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#and they want to hit the crap outta me in return
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How about (for the one shot), reader is overwhelmed and disassociating a bit and we got a Bucky (AU your pick) trying to help her?
Knowing you, if you did this - it will hit the feels and the spot.
I tend to disassociate so I wanna know what he’d do.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word count: 950
Warnings: overwhelmed feelings, disassociating
a/n: I made this a little drabble, I hope that's okay! Thank you for waking me up with this request :))
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Everything was too much.
The noises and the lights and the talking; you’d been in the throes of battle more times than you could count, but still, nothing seemed to shake you as much as media conferences. 
You weren’t even talking at this one, but the questions thrown at Pepper were enough to get your head spinning. Most of the team was there with you, sitting in the background while more eloquent speakers took the lead, but their presence did little to placate your anxious thoughts. 
How will this be better dealt with next time? 
Whose fault was it, exactly? 
A team full of superheroes and the casualty count is still this high?
Guilt gnawed at your insides and then continued its path along your skin. Maybe if you’d been faster, thought harder, done better, these questions wouldn’t be necessary. Your muscles still ached from the exertion that had spanned unrelenting days, but surely there was more you could have done. 
A camera flashed when Steve took the podium. Your head started to hurt. 
More questions—they were endless and ruthless and coming all at once. The reporters spoke over each other and more pictures were taken. Topics were being debated that you had never even considered. Did the avengers have insurance? Were you personally liable for workplace disruptions? 
There was a pressure in your lungs that began seeping along your ribs. Your breaths came out in short, heavy pants, and then your throat felt tight. Everything was closing in. You were alone on that stage and nothing was going to save you from the overwhelming sensations taking over your body. 
But you couldn’t panic on live TV; you couldn’t embarrass the team like that. 
So you shifted, eyes focusing on the back wall until a low hum rumbled in your ears instead of the questions and the shouting. It all went blurry, and in the blurriness there was peace. It was dangerous to get stuck like this in such a public place—to allow yourself to fall—but it felt safer. 
You weren’t sure how long it had been when you felt your body shake. It was a light movement, a shake of your shoulder and warmth circling your arm. It was tempting to return the call of that touch, but it was even more tempting to completely ignore it and stay in the place where everything stood still. 
Your body shook a little harder, enough to make you blink and bring some noise back into the present. But as quickly as the harshness came, it left. 
“Don’t do that,” you heard, like a whisper thrown down a tunnel. “You’re gonna scare the crap outta her.” 
“She’s out of it, Barnes.” 
“You think I don’t know that? Stop trying to knock her brain loose and move.” 
You were teetering between two planes now—the blurry and the sharp. The jostling from before never returned, but something else replaced it and made you want to strain your ears to find it. 
There was a low, deep voice accompanied by a comfortable pressure on your face. It spoke consistently and calmly, never tripping over words you couldn’t understand or raising its voice in the way a person did when they were retelling a story. Softness brushed your cheeks, and each time it passed over your skin you seemed to understand that you weren’t fully aware of your surroundings. 
An awareness of being unaware. You almost laughed at the sentiment but you felt your face twitch instead. 
“There she is. Almost back with me?” 
You blinked. He sounded nice… and very familiar despite your mind drawing a blank. The ringing in your ears dulled to a low buzz and you began to feel the air on your skin. An air conditioner was probably on. Where were you again?
“Come on, honey. Few more blinks and I’ll be right in front of ya.” 
You did as he said, and he was right. Bucky was there, tilting his head down to find your eyes, his back to an empty press room and his smile soft. You sucked a deep breath in through your nose and reoriented yourself to the lights—that were now dimmer, somehow—cringing at the slight headache brewing across your temple. 
“It’s over?” you croaked, reaching up to wrap your fingers around Bucky’s wrists. You really didn’t want him to pull his hands away. 
“It’s over, pretty girl. Sorry I couldn't help you out sooner. Stark had me ten miles away on the other side of this stupid stage.” 
“S’okay.” 
Bucky slid his hands along your jaw until his touch rested at the back of your neck. He turned your face up to meet his gaze and pressed a featherlight kiss to the high point of your cheek. In the silence of the room, a small burst of embarrassment found a home in the pit of your stomach. 
You bit into your bottom lip. “Sorry I checked out. There was just… a lot going on.” 
Bucky shook his head, gently shushing you before the apology had left your lips. “Don’t be sorry. Those reporters are a bunch of vultures. Saw you getting nervous about ten minutes in and I was about to make a scene. I’m pretty sure they would’ve shut up if I punched a hole in the wall or something.” 
“No punching holes in walls, Bucky,” you giggled. “We aren’t moody teenagers.” 
“I will become a moody teenager for you.” 
“Can we get lunch before you do that? I’m hungry.” 
Bucky huffed out a laugh, kissing your forehead for a long moment. You felt his next words on your skin. They wiped away all evidence of your bad day. 
“I’ll take you anywhere in the city.” 
467 notes · View notes
connorswhisk · 9 days
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simmer (nick x luke)
for @jessieluvsoranges sorry this took so long i hope you like it!! perhaps not as fluffy as you might have had in mind haha but apparently i'm allergic to writing fluff so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
also on my ao3
Footsteps sound behind Nick in the dark, and his mouth twists down into an angry scowl. “I told you to leave me the hell alone, Uncle Pete.”
“I know,” Luke’s voice says softly, and Nick turns in surprise, shoulders de-tensing just a little at the realization. “But I figured maybe you were hungry.”
“Sorry,” Nick apologizes. “Thought you were…” He trails off, staring at the dry heel of brown bread and the mushy apple in Luke’s hands. “What the hell’s all this?”
Luke grimaces. “All I could manage to filch from dinner. Got somethin' for Diane, too. She’s eating it now.”
Nick ignores the offered food and returns to gazing moodily out of his and Luke’s cell bedroom window. “I’m gonna kill him.”
He hears Luke sink down on the creaky bottom bunk behind him. “You can’t kill him,” says Luke, ever the minuscule angel perched atop Nick’s shoulder, a little nagging sometimes. “You know that.”
“Well, I wish I could do something, ” says Nick angrily. He can still hear the sharp smack of Carver’s backhand across his mother’s face. He can barely feel his own swelling eye and stinging cheekbone, not through all the rage bubbling up inside him. Of course it wouldn’t be enough to just hit them, of course the fucker had to take away his mom’s dinner, too.
And Nick’s own meal, as well, but that doesn’t seem to matter as much.
“Carlos and Alvin think soon,” Luke tells him, voice rising to barely above a whisper. “Pete, Reggie, and Rebecca agree. Not that much longer, buddy, then we’ll get out of here. Just - Just keep holdin’ on. Just a little bit longer.”
Nick screws his eyes shut, frustrated. “I know,” he grumbles. “I know. God, this whole thing is just - it’s just so fucked! ”
“ Sssh! ” Luke hisses. His eyes dart fervently to their door’s open window. “Keep your voice down, man! Don’t be an idiot.”
“Sorry,” mutters Nick after a moment, shaking his head. He can barely keep the angry tremors out of his voice. “Don’t need him coming back here and blacking your eyes up, too.” His blood simmers steadily with hate. “What an asshole. ”
“We’re so close, ” Luke reminds him, voice sounding kinda desperate. “So close, Nick. And once we’re outta here, no one’s gonna lay a finger on you or Diane ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
Every time he hears Luke say his name, Nick feels chills rippling up and down his fool’s backbone. He swallows, hard, and whispers, “You don’t know that, man.”
“Well, I’m gonna try to make it that way,” says Luke with conviction. He nods at the measly dinner set out on the rickety bedside table before him. “Go on then.”
Nick turns. Luke’s eyes are boring into his own, fervent and convincing (he’s so certain ), and Nick’s cheekbone throbs and he fists his hand into the collar of Luke’s shirt, white-knuckled, and kisses him.
Luke starts to return the sentiment, lips moving against lips, but just as quickly he pulls away. “We - We said we weren’t gonna do this anymore. You said we couldn’t do this no more.”
“Forget what I said,” Nick mutters back to him, aching to feel Luke’s tongue press into his own. “Just forget it, Luke, kiss me…”
“This is a bad idea,” Luke whispers, but he kisses him all the same. “Dammit…”
He never knew he wanted this, not really, not ‘til now. Nick’s not good with feelings and all that lovey-dovey crap. The stuff before, that had been stress relief. A way to find some little moment of somethin’ nice in the middle of all the shit. Eventually, he’d put a stop to it because Pete was startin’ to look at them funny. But now Nick realizes that maybe the real reason he tried to end it’s because he was getting more invested in what he and Luke were doing than he knew how to be comfortable with. 
Is he even comfortable now? No…and yes, definitely at the same time. He can’t really tell. This is what he’s always wanted - this is what was never supposed to happen - and, Lord help him, Nick can’t fucking stop, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. He’s been looking and looking at Luke his whole life long and it’s only just now he’s picking up on what all those looks have really meant.
Uncle Pete would probably roll his eyes and say Told ya so, like he always has when Nick inevitably fucks up for the millionth time, even though he didn’t tell Nick nothing about this. Where the hell was the warning for any of it?
Life don't come with warnings anymore. Not these days.
Luke pulls away. He tips his head down to bury his nose at the junction of Nick’s shoulder and his neck. His lips flutter there, breathy, in and back out again.
I love you, Nick feels him mouth into his skin.
And Nick swallows, stomach growling with hunger as he glances over at his dinner, and he says to Luke, 
“I know.”
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yukiwrites · 7 months
Text
Unlikely Friends
Thanks for the support as usual, @authordgaster!
This is a Support chain C-B between Hubert and Percy (OC) from Fire Emblem Three Houses! If you need any more info about Percy, I have written about him here~
Commission info HERE and HERE!
__________________________
C SUPPORT
Hubert, offscreen: …
Percy, alone: Hah! Haap!
Percy: … Take that!
Hubert: …!
(sound of fireball exploding)
Hubert: I see you discovered me.
Percy: You didn’t even flinch at that, nice.
Hubert: …
Hubert: I could tell there was no bloodlust in that hit. It was, as it were, a ‘warning shot’.
Percy: Glad you noticed it. So?
Hubert: ‘So’?
Percy: So, what’s your business with me is what I’m asking. I don’t think I signed up for any sneaking classes or anything, so fess up.
Hubert: I am merely here to observe you. If you prove yourself to be a threat to Lady Edelgard and what she has planned, I will be forced to… dispose of you, if necessary.
Percy: I see. Alright, cool.
(Percy leaves)
Hubert: A moment.
(Percy returns)
Percy: Yeah?
Hubert: I must confess that was not the reaction I expected. People don’t usually react well to being told to their faces that they’re being watched. I would know.
Percy: As said, it’s cool. You were honest with me instead of spewing some weird crap, which, props for you. Also, I know you’re doing whatever you can to protect your master, and I respect that, as someone who also has someone else to protect.
Hubert: Hah. Is that ‘someone’ the Ashen Demon, A.K.A. our dear, dear Professor?
Percy: Yup. Wonder how you figured that out.
Hubert: She hardly seems like someone who needs any protection.
Percy: Could say the same about your princess, right? I bet she can bench press you into the next Tuesday before breakfast.
Hubert: … I suppose you have a point. On her being able to hold her own, of course.
Percy: Riiight. Sure. So, can I go back to training now? You can stay and watch it if you want.
Hubert: Be my guest.
Percy: ‘Kay.
(Percy leaves)
Hubert: What a strange creature.
B SUPPORT (Unlockable after Chapter 7 and after attaining Bernadetta and Ingrid’s C-Support)
Percy: Hubert, buddy!
Hubert: Percy.
Percy: Hahaha! (deeper voice) Percy. 
Percy: Nailed that.
Hubert, smiling: That hardly sounded like me.
Percy: Got a smile outta you, at least! That’s nice, I like makin’ my friends laugh.
Hubert: So, we are ‘friends’, then? Despite my constant vigilance?
Percy: Yeah, why not? We’re all in the same class and you’re honest about it all. Just don’t lie to me and we’re good, buddy.
Hubert: ‘All in the same class’, I see. Yet, you weren’t so welcoming of Ingrid.
Percy: Hah? I treated her the same way I treated everyone else after she joined. Not my problem she decided that breaking people’s doors was something normal to do. I had to reply in kind.
Hubert: So, breaking doors is unacceptable, but surveillance is not?
Percy: *sighs* Look, I told you already. I respect you for doing whatever you can to protect the one you care about. It doesn’t matter that I’m the target of surveillance or shit. Because it is you and the reason why you’re doing it, it’s fine. You might not think the same, but I actually do consider you as a friend.
Hubert: Hm. Then, allow me to propose a hypothetical situation.
Percy: Go on.
Hubert: Say that Lady Edelgard and the Professor — and, by extension, us — end up becoming enemies in the future. Would your opinion of me still remain? Would this so-called friendship exist at all?
Percy, thinking: Hmmm…
Percy: Yeah, I don’t think anything would change. I’d think you’re still a cool guy and we’d still be friends, even if we’re on opposing sides of the battlefield.
Hubert: … I fail to comprehend this.
Percy: When you’re in the merc business, you meet a lot of other merc bands around. Sometimes, you’re both hired to do the same job as allies. Other times, opposing lords hire us to teach the other a lesson. At the end of the day, we can all meet in the tavern and talk about the job, no hard feelings. It’s just fighting, you know? Doesn’t mean I’d hate the guts of the guy I had been just sharing a cold one with the previous night.
Hubert: I would wager Shez holds a different view of this, but I see your point.
Percy: Yeah, he does him, I do me. So, did that answer satisfy you, my lord?
Hubert, smiling: It did, for the moment. I can’t say I’m entirely convinced, but I’ll play the part, for now.
Percy: That’s good enough for me!
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beyond-abyss · 1 year
Text
Arkham Nights (2-16-21)
Jason Todd during D2 (Dick & Damian) time as Batman & Robin.
Darkness is not what I fear lurks under my skin. No, everybody’s got a little darkness, and in my line of work, it helps keep you alive. Bruce wears his darkness with a matching cape, and it’s done wonders for him. But me? I fear all those bright, warm feelings swirling around inside. They make me soft. They make me weak. They make me vulnerable. Feeling positive, warm things is why I trusted the wrong person, my birth mother, and she walked me into a trap with the Joker. He beat me, broke me, and left me for dead. Her too. And still, those bright feelings wouldn’t let me be. I had to try and save her. Sheila. She was my mother, after all. I had to try. So I threw myself between her and the bomb, with the very last of my strength. I remember the impact, like ten thousand crowbars at once. I remember the heat, and tumbling through the air. I barely felt the pain, but I watched the building come down around me, and then everything was darkness.
It was quiet in the dark. In the nothing. I was beyond the pain, beyond the betrayal and the disappointment. But again, there was light. More than anything else, that scared the crap outta me. Another second chance that I could screw up somehow. Heh, boy have I screwed it up. I mean, how many people really come back to life? How many dead kids get the chance to return and grow up? 
In the short term, I was trying to set some things right. I wanted what any ghost wants: for my killer to be punished. But that’s all I was anymore...a ghost haunting the lives they’d all gotten on with. Deep down, I knew that my death meant something to them, that everything echoed with that emptiness, but it only reminded me of the emptiness I felt. That kid in the goofy costume was dead. Whatever remained of him, I left behind when I crawled out of my own coffin. In my absence, there was a new Robin. I was just a shadow, a ghost. Who was I supposed to be?
If I was haunting them, why not really haunt them? I put on a red hood to become the personification of both of Batman’s greatest mistakes. After all, it was his failure that shaped me.
…Yeah, I know that’s just bullshit I told myself to be able to sleep at night. Truth is, I didn’t know what I was doing. The plans, the killing… I needed something to focus on, someone to hit, to direct the burning within me. It was worse than before, so much stronger than when I was a kid. The rage. The pain. I’m terrified that there’s nothing of me left under all the hurt and anger.
…Again, bullshit. I’m afraid that I am still here under all this misery. If that stupid, scared, hopeful, little brat is still part of me, then why am I doing such awful things? I’m not afraid of the darkness that drives me. Still being that weak, soft, vulnerable kid deep down is what I fear.
***
Waking up in Arkham Asylum is awful for reasons I never expected. Honestly, the food and the company’s not as horrible as I’d always imagined when Batman and I dragged those sorry lunatics back here. The awful part is all the time alone with my mind. 
I don’t blame Dick for locking me in here. I was getting a bit carried away with all that, “Let the punishment fit the crime!” slogan-making and grandstanding. It’s just that after Bruce died…(which I don’t buy 100%)...it was like I lost part of myself. At that point, I was already slipping, wondering who I was. I’ve tried on too many masks. I’m not ready to look underneath. Fuck. But here I am, all this time on my cuffed hands. Maybe I am a bit pissed that Dick put me in here.
Days go by. Shrinks try to tell me how I feel, and I tell them I’m not crazy. I take their tests again and again. I’m simply homicidal. They keep me on meds anyway. Meds that slow me down. Meds that take the edge off the rage. However, the loneliness is magnified. And the company here is no good. Literally. I’m surrounded by the villains I grew up wailing on.
These freaks don’t know that though. Between these walls, I’m the Red Hood. I’m just another local badass who fought the Bat. So some of them are friendly. Nygma brags about his “clever” death traps, and I snort. As a kid, Riddler was only ever an inconvenience. So...I give Nygma some pointers on how to really challenge Batman, and suddenly Nygma gives me his ice cream on Fridays. 
No one really bothers me. But again, no one knows that some of their scars were delivered by my fists, back when I wore more green and yellow. They ask, though. Who is the Red Hood? Smirking is usually my answer, but the truth is that I don’t know. Am I even Jason Todd anymore? Jason was Bruce’s son...and he’s gone.
***
    Sonovabitch, Bruce isn’t dead! He comes to visit me. I know I should shut up, I’m talking too much, but I can’t help it. It’s been so lonely in Arkham. And I bet he thinks I’m just trying to distract him. Maybe I am. Maybe I want him listening instead of looking. Bags under my eyes: the nightmares keep me from dreamland. I slump in the chair, letting him think it’s confidence, that I’m relaxed, but really I’m drained. I need out, I need something to focus on. Finally, I’m being transferred to a regular prison. I can start to plan when I’m there.
My visit from Batman hits like a bullet to the heart. I want to hate him for leaving me...leaving me in Arkham that is. But I was so relieved he was alive. And he came to see me! Bruce came to check on me and show me that he’s alive. 
Then that rage creeps its way back in. No more meds to dull me, and I’m sent to prison. Bruce came to see me, but he left me! Once again, he’s getting on with his life without me in it. All the mushy, soft, weak feelings are rearing their ugly heads since Batman visited me. Warm like blood from an exit wound.
So I distract myself. I kill. Surrounded by scum, it’s a buffet of death I can gorge myself on, drown myself in, as long as it keeps me from thinking about the feelings.
~
In the halls of the All-Caste, the ancient boy prompts me to reclaim my most cherished memory. I know what it is. Another spot of light inside of me that makes me soft, and warm… Warm like that night when we weren’t Batman and Robin. We were just a father and his son, curled up watching some bad movie together. I leaned into Bruce’s side and fell asleep, safe and happy. The warmth of that memory radiates at me, but I walk on by. “Keep it,” I tell the confused guru. 
{Last scene from Red Hood and the Outlaws (N52) #3}
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drakenology · 3 years
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the yakuza wife - yakuzaboss!bakugo x housewife reader - inspired by @hanji-is-life ‘s sexy ass. 
yakuza au
tw: violence, sadism, mentions of blood, smut, cum, cussing, daddy/ddlg kinks undertones, mentions of guns, very much harley quinn and joker only joker actually loves harley in this ya know?
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“where the fuck is my money?” bakugo asks this bludgeoned man tied up to a metal chair in some god forsaken warehouse god only knows where. 
“please sir, i’ll get it to you as soon as I can! please stop!” the man pleads, flinching when bakugo raises his fist to land a mean left hook into his jaw with a dark chuckle. 
“you know you shouldn’t borrow from people if you have no intentions in payin’ em back. it’s fuckin’..” he pauses before taking a crowbar and bashing the man in both his knees, blood curdling screams filling the empty space. “rude!”
bakugo smirks as the man begs for mercy, pulling a set of pliers of his pocket and holding them up to the man’s face to tease him, grabbing by his neck to make him meet his intimidating gaze. 
“shoulda thought of that before trying to playing me for a fuckin’ fool.. hey, I wonder how many teeth I can pull outta ya before your weak ass passes out.” he grunts, waving the plier in his face until the sound of his phone ringing stops him from doing anything.
“you’re lucky I gotta take this.” he mumbles, taking a piece of dirty cloth and shoving it into his mouth to keep him quiet.
bakugo turns away and rolls up his sleeve, setting up his tools for torture as he answers the phone. 
“hi baby!” you chime, at the mall having the time of your life with his credit card. 
“hey. ‘m workin’ whaddaya want?” he says, holding up his pliers and sitting them down on the table as his hostage screams in the background. 
“just checking on you, dummy! whatcha want for dinner, hm? i know you haven’t eaten yet.” you say, holding up different dresses to your frame to imagine yourself in them. “hey, pink or powder blue?”
“pink. and ‘m not hungry. you’ve got security with you, right baby?” he asks, kicking the man onto the floor with a loud thud. 
“of course. you won’t let me leave the house without them.” you respond, not even paying attention to the muffled screams you hear in the background. you’ve learned not to ask too many questions when it comes to being a yakuza wife. 
“gotta keep my baby safe, right? listen, princess I gotta go. i’ll be home before 9 okay?” 
you suck your teeth and roll your eyes, “fine. be careful okay?”
“always am. love you baby.” as he hangs up and returns to his task. 
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the difference between you and katsuki was night and day. everyone knew you to be so sweet and kind; unbeknownst to them all how you ended up with a cretin like Bakugo. even though Katsuki was immoral in many ways, he knew marrying you was the right thing to do. who else would want to dress his wounds and pick out his suits for the day?
katsuki demanded you quit your job. in fact he came with you to put in your two weeks notice, tough scowl staining his features as your boss signed the approval with shaking hands.
from that day on he ensured you were well taken care of and that marrying him and becoming his housewife came with many perks.
for starters, your husband was loaded. all those years of extorting and money laundering paid off every time you come home with a couple shopping bags from the mall.
katsuki loved lavishing you in the finest of everything, adoring how you look in designer. so much so, he fucks you by the bay window of your luxury penthouse, the Chanel dress he just bought you hiked up over your ass as his calloused fingers make way into your mouth. you’re pinned to the glass, bare breasts pressed against the window as he railed you from behind. and he wonders why you turned out to be a spoiled brat.
your gifts always made you stand out above the rest. many men fawn over you and he knows this. just a small price to pay for having a fine ass wife. but if anyone ever forgot their place, if anyone ever got to close. well. that’d be the last time you’d ever see them. course you have no idea why. but even though katsuki loved you with all his heart, you could be a real pain in the ass. you were so bratty, especially when he was busy. 
one day you came trotting into his office in the middle of some business deal. whatever. your jimmy choos popped and you needed a new pair before the yacht party you were attending started. 
“daddy’s taking care of business right now, okay? go wait outside.”
“no! you promised we’d go shopping! I need new shoes what the fuck am I supposed to do with these?” you whine, pouting like usual to get your way. bakugo’s brow raised, walking towards you and gesturing for the meeting to continue without him. his hand rested on your lower back as he escorted you out.  
he fucked your brains in in the next room for disobeying him, panties around your ankles, your charm anklet jingling as he picked up your legs. 
“spoiled fuckin’ brat. told you to wait didn’t I? hm? or did you make a scene ‘cause you wanted my dick?” your head hangs back as your hips are held down by him, thrusts brutal as you cry for him to slow down, face turned away from his. he grabs your chin and turns you around harshly with his scarred and calloused hands, bruised knuckles turning white with a tight grip. 
“look at me when i’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you.” 
he came inside you when he was done, pulling your panties up for you as it dripped down your leg. 
“now.. back to what I was doin’. tell the driver to take your ass home.” he huffs with a zip of his pants and a shake in his sleeves to fix them. bakugo leaves you on the desk, leaving the door cracked for you to leave when you got yourself together. and when you did you could hardly hold yourself up, holding your high heels in your hand as you limp to the car waiting outside for you. 
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having a yakuza boss as a husband was always exciting. something in you liked the danger; the thrill.
you tell this tale to your other socialite girlfriends and they almost never believe you.
you were out with bakugo on a date when work called. to your dismay, he had to get up and leave. you insisted on being brought along, hating being left alone in that big house that was often empty without him. he agreed but only if you promised to be quiet like a good little girl. 
when you arrive at some warehouse (the same one mentioned earlier), a man was already hog tied on the ground, muffled screams behind a piece of duck tape as bakugo ripped it off. you sat by a table, legs folded in annoyance. this interrupted date night? you scoff and fold your arms. 
“ah. good seeing you old friend. remember me?” he asks, taunting him a little with a gun in his hand pressing it against his jaw as the man let out muffled pleas for him not to shoot. 
“you tried stealing from me. fuckin’ idiot. my boys caught you in some hotel with your little girlfriend. did you think you were gonna have a victory fuck after you made off with my money, hm?” bakugo asks, hitting him upside the head with the butt of his pistol.
you jump at the sound of the blow, a small part of you turned on watching your husband beat the crap out of a complete stranger. your pussy starts to ache when you peer over at bakugo’s strong tattooed arms as he flung his jacket aside, rolling his white sleeves up to ensure his expensive suit doesn’t get soiled. 
“oh fuck, where are my manners? this is my lovely wife, y/n. say hi baby.” he coos at you, a switch from rough to gentle when he spoke to you. you smile and wave, the hostage sobbing out a weak greeting when bakugo demands him to. 
“anyways. what’d you do with the money, asswipe? gonna tell me or are you gonna make me fuck you up in front of my pretty wife. god, look at ‘er, ain’t she gorgeous? you know I was about 30 minutes from railing her before you had to go along and ruin our night. I should kill you right here.” bakugo turns his head towards you with a sick look in his eye. 
“whaddaya think, princess? what should I do to this motherfucker, huh?” he asks. 
“smack him again. he ruined date night.” you grumble, folding your arms. 
“he sure did, baby.” bakugo says, punching the hostage in his jaw. he gestured for his men to crowd around him, all of them taking turns kicking and beating him with metal bars. katsuki walks towards you and pulls you into a passionate kiss, a bit of blood on his knuckles as he pulled your hair. god, this whole situation was sick. but why was it so hot?
bakugo carries you away to the car, tells the driver to fuck off somewhere while he rails you in the back seat, knowing his men will take care of the rest of what he started inside the warehouse. you straddle his lap, bouncing up and down on his stiff cock as the car rocked back and forth. the car windows fog up as your body heat commingled throughout the space, your hands pressing against the glass to gain to balance as you rode his fat cock. 
“fuck, daddy. you’re so hot when you’re handling business. ooh, you’re dick’s so hard.” you purr, bakugo’s hand pinching and playing with your breast as his hips thrust upwards. He smirks at you, almost a bit shocked you got as turned on as he did from the pain he inflicted.
“hmm, I know baby. god, you’re sick. getting this wet from watching me beat up some punk. dirty fuckin’ girl.” he huffed into your hair, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck followed by harsh nibbles.
truth is even though you were so sweet and caring, you had a dark side no one knew about. I mean why else would you marry into the yakuza? 
you were both fucking insane. 
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osakunt · 3 years
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➬ 𝗧𝗮𝗶𝗷𝘂 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 [𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗽]
➬ 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗔 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁
➬ 𝗠𝘆 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗧𝗮𝗶𝗷𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗻 !!!! 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘄𝗲 ?! 🦟🦗🦟🦗
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The sun smacks the crap out of Taiju when you yank the curtains open. The sun rays hit him right in the eyes, interrupting his sleep. Pulling the blankets over his head he tries to continue his deep slumber but you had other plans
Opening up the window you let the cold air come into the room, instantly making the buff man stir under the covers to find a warm spot. Feeling around for you in his sleep, he gives up, feeling that your side of the bed was completely cold. Grunting he turns back to his side while wrapping the warm covers around him tightly so no cold air could reach him.
Going another step further, you flop on the bulk of a man, uncovering his face to wake him up with ghost kisses to his face. You start at is forehead - move to his left cheek then his right. Lastly his lips. “C’mon Tai. It’s late” you whisper. In return you get a grunt and light shove.
Laying chest down on him you start to poke him and run your hand through his blue locks. Booping his nose and opening up his eyes, he finally peaks his eyes open giving you a straight but calm look. “Why are you like this ?” he smile unraveling himself from the covers to expose his naked upper body to trap you in his hold. Tattoos glistening under the rays of the sun and skin starting to perk with goosebumps from the cold air.
“I let you sleep in long enough. The business ain’t gonna run itself , ya know ?”
“I have workers for that, sweetheart. There’s no need for me to go in”
“I got a call from there just now. Your little worker bitches got in a fight over who admires you the most. You need to go deal with that” you get out his hold and get out of bed to fully slide the window open and let the cold - cold air wonder fully in. “Ohhhh - A special someone called saying they wanted to meet with you. So imma need you to get up and at least get dressed”.
“Someone ? Who the hell would want to see me ? Except for you of course” you can feel the sly smirk sliding across his lips.
“Shut the fuck up” you throw a shirt at him before walking out “the special person it Hakkai !!” You yell out making your way downstairs.
“Hakkai ?…that’s not new. He’s been wanting to hang out more….” Taiju whispers to himself. His heart warms up as he repeats your words over and over. He was happy to know that his younger siblings were reaching out. He was also happy because if it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have met you.
“This is (y/n), don’t try to hit her” Yuzuha glared at him when you two walk into the house with Hakkai close behind.
“I don’t care. Just don’t piss me off” he glanced over his shoulder and quickly goes back to what he was doing. Only thing was that on that one little glance, you caught his attention and he had to double take what he had just seen. Turning his whole body around his eyes fall in contact with your and you roll your eyes at his way of being then going back to talk to with his siblings.
Your stops at their house became more frequent when you saw Hakkai with a swollen cheek and Yuzuha with a purple mark on her neck, with signs of choking.
You bust through the doors of their house and walk right up to the Black Dragons leader who was lounging on the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. “The hell did you !?”. Taiju didn’t even blink and yet didn’t know how he had a gun to his chin and you on top of him.
He didn’t feel rage. It was more of a flustered feeling . Him avoiding eye contact was what gave it away. He sat there still not knowing how to react - he sat there waiting for you to pull the trigger.
“(Y/n) please don’t”
Hakkai grabs your arm making you pull the trigger and missing your aim. Next thing y’all know - Taiju is laughing at you having guts to even threaten him. “Not bad. You didn’t completely miss” he point to his tattooed - grazed shoulder.
After the confrontation at the church, Taiju left but found a way to get to you. He remembers picking up the phone anxiously to dial the number he was provided. When your voice was heard from the other side of the line - he froze.
It took some good convincing to get you to go out with him but at the end you noticed his character change. You saw that he wasn’t the same. He was more calm. Less annoyed and with no animosity circling him. It was like being in a presence of a whole different person.
From there things came to be to what they are now. You still being friends with Hakkai and Yuzuha, you let them take all the time they needed to ease into the idea of having an actually bond with their older brother. A sibling bond where there was no physical nor mental violence.
“-pa”
“Helloooo ?! Papa !!!!”
A young boy with blue hair and the same eyes as him looks up at Taiju - calling for his attention.
“Hm ? What’s wrong, shorty ?” Taiju looks down at the boy, bringing him up in his arms
“ ‘M not short” the child pouts
“Of course you aren’t….For a three year old” he laughs bouncing the young boy in his arms. The laughter erupting from the child was what made Taiju feel complete. He was the missing puzzle that completed the agonizing puzzle Taiju used to be. He had you, his siblings and last but most important his three year old son who had his looks but your personality - a sprinkle of Yuzuha’s spunk with a dash of Hakkai’s shyness.
“Uncle Kai is here…mommy said hurry or she’ll drag you down” his son smiles not having a clue of what he just said. He was asked to deliver a message not to understand it after all.
Knowing that you were capable of doing exactly what you said, Taiju sat his son in the middle of the bed and pulled out clothes - showing the child the options to choose from. “Help me pick, buddy”
Once finally dressed the father-son duo make their way downstairs to be received with laughter coming from you and his siblings. Hakkai looking up - he smiles seeing his brother and nephew approaching. He gets up to greet his brother along with his sister. Small hugs with cherished hello’s are exchanged.
“Just came by to see how things are, ya know ? Heard that something happened at your place of work. Bet being the boss scares the hell outta those employees” Hakkai jokes
“I’ve been wanting to punch a few of them” Taiju adds a chuckle to his statement but everyone knew that he was being serious.
“I can punch them !!” The blue haired boy exclaims with pride, showing how he’d punch one of the hosts that once flirted with you.
“No,baby - Let’s put ketchup in his pocket” Taiju’s smirk appears once again.
“C’mon Tai, do better. ” You grab your beloved son from him
“Don’t be a pussy, Taiju. Pour hot sauce into his drink” Yuzuha adds in
“Yeaa. We can watch him try to calm the heat in his mouth but we’ll add hot sauce to any other beverage” Hakkai instigates smiling
“We can even eat while watching him” you wiggle your eyebrows adding into the ‘plan’.
“Wow …..We aren’t a normal family…..” Yuzuha states states the obvious.
“Far from it” You say grabbing your coat
“I like it 🤷🏻‍♀️” Hakkai shrugs opening the door to greet the ice cold wind.
“Same here” you all agree that normal wasn’t the best word to describe the family. Even if the family wasn’t normal; to all of you it was normal and didn’t mind having it that way.
“Let’s not get arrested though”
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I just know that this man became a softy after the timeskip. I mean look at him. He showed that he cared for his brother on that time line where Hakkai dies. Not only that but I truly feel like he always cared but he just didn’t know how to show it so he resorted to violence to show that he did.
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harksness · 3 years
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Midnight
Gwen Stacy x Reader
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A/N: Okay so I promised to write this/wrote it before I went mia from this blog for the fattest of minutes and I have no clue why I didn't just post it. I think it's bc I didn't like it at the time, but now that I reread it I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. So I hope you enjoy this dusty Gwen x Reader I dug out of the pit of hell that is my drafts!! Also, I'm working on chapter 3 of No Longer Yours and it'll be out soon I promise!!! I've just been so busy!!
Summary: Gwen had a rough night out on patrol and she needs her girlfriend to ground her.
Masterlist
Word Count: 1,320
Warnings: None
You've always been a light sleeper. So, when you felt your bed dipping next to you, it startled you awake. Initially, you freeze. Waiting for the stranger to do something, your heart is pounding in your chest. With your brain still foggy from sleep, you roll over quickly, the sheets tangling around your waist. You don't know what you were hoping to accomplish with that. 
“It’s alright, it’s just me.”
Immediately you recognize your girlfriend's voice, and you feel yourself let out a breath that you had been holding, the tension leaving your body. You blindly reach out as you blink the remnants of sleep from your eyes until you feel her arm, then proceed to give it a soft, lighthearted smack.
“Jesus, Gwen! You scared the ever loving crap outta me!”
You exclaimed, your voice still slurred from sleep. You suddenly sense the tense air surrounding her. She stays silent, staring out the window and into the night sky. That’s when you notice your apartment window is still cracked open from her entry. The cool night air drifts into the warm room, and it feels nice against your overheating skin. That’s when you remembered- Gwen only comes in through the window like this after a bad night. Like, a really bad night. Like, someone died or got seriously injured sorta night. You feel your heart tighten at the realization.
You sat up, scooting a bit closer to her. You slowly raised your hand and rested it on her shoulder. Her suit is still on, her hood bunched up at the base of her neck. You squeeze her shoulder comfortingly. When she didn’t protest, and she never does, you brought up your hand and began combing your fingers through her soft, blonde locks. Gwen only continued to look out the open window, and at that moment a gentle breeze came through and danced with her hair. 
“What do you need, baby?”
You asked softly, gently. Once again you moved your hand to her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. You wanted to remind her that you’re here, that you’ll always be here for her. Gwen’s gaze shifted to her lap where her hands rest and you follow her eyes, finding her mask clutched tightly between her gloved fingers.
“I just need you.”
She finally spoke. Your heart aches at how broken she sounds. She turns her head to look at you, those stunning blue eyes of her finally meeting yours. Concern etched across your features at the ruined look in her eyes. Your heart aches again. All you want to do is hold her and protect her from the world- let someone else be Spider-Woman. Let someone else save the day. All you want is for Gwen to be okay, and she can't be okay with the weight of the world on her shoulders. 
“You have me, Gwen. I’m right here.”
She shifted so that she was facing you, one hand bracing herself on the bed, and the other coming up to cradle your cheek. Gwen pulled you towards her, and you didn’t resist. You didn’t want to. Her lips met your own, desperate and needy. It knocked the wind right out of you. You did your best to return the kiss, but still, drowsiness slowed your thoughts and your movements. You leaned forward, tangling your hand in her hair as she slipped her tongue into your mouth. 
She pulled back abruptly, and you took a moment to catch your breath.
“God, I’m sorry. I come in here in the middle of the night and wake you up, then just grab your face and just shove my tongue down your throat? I’m so stupid.. I should’ve asked you if it was okay. I shouldn’t have woken you up, you need your sleep. I’m sorry.”
She sighed, dragging her hands down her face in embarrassment. You grab one of her still gloved hands and shake your head.
“Never apologize, Gwen. I’m here when you need me. I’ll always be here... And I could never turn down a makeout session with my extremely hot girlfriend. I love your kisses, Spider-Woman.”
You smile playfully at her, with your fist still tangled in her hair, you bring her face closer to yours and simply rub your nose against hers lovingly. She smiles softly in return, a quiet laugh falling from her lips.
“What would I do without you?”
Gwen smiled, and you smiled back.
“You would be so lost."
"I would be."
She says quietly, her smile turning soft as she looks at you with eyes full of love. You lean in and leave a kiss on her forehead. 
"Even though you look really good in that suit, it's time for bed. And I'd prefer that you don't sleep in that thing."
Gwen hums approvingly as you get up from the bed and make your way to your closet, the moonlight illuminating the room in grays and whites, only tints of color. Giving you just enough light to clearly search through your closet. 
"I love wearing your shirts more than this thing, anyways. I love wearing your shirts more than anything, actually."
You grin at her words as you find a ratty old grey t-shirt. Hopefully this one will do.
You turn around just as she’s bending over to shimmy the suit off of her feet. You can’t help but admire how good she looks- the moonlight hitting her back makes her look radiant. She's so beautiful and stunning, in moments like these you can't help but be in awe that she's even real. 
“My eyes are up here.”
She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you feel your face flush. You clear your throat and laugh it off. 
“You’re too observant, I never get to secretly oggle you.”
You pout and she laughs as she folds her suit and stuffs it into her backpack. Her laugh makes you relax a bit, happy that she’s starting to become a little more normal.
“Here, catch.”
You interrupt before she can say anything else. You throw the shirt at her, and she catches it with her amazing reflexes. She holds it out in front of her and studies it for a moment, a slight pout now making its way onto her lips. She’s so cute.
“I want to wear your Fall Out Boy shirt, it’s my favorite.”
You throw yourself back into bed, bouncing slightly as you do so before getting under the blankets. 
“It’s dirty, gorgeous. You’ll have to make do with this one.”
Now you’re the observant one, because you notice a hint of red on her cheeks as she slips the shirt over her head. You smile to yourself, happy to have been able to successfully fluster her. 
She slips under the covers next to you, and you open your arms. Gwen scoots in closer, and she rests her head on your shoulder, bringing up her hand to rest on your chest. You bury your nose in her hair and kiss the top of her head as you wrap your arms around her. You feel her relax in your embrace, a soft sigh leaving her lips. 
She’s safe here, in your bed, in your arms. She can drop all of the stress of being a superhero at the door and pick it up again in the morning. Moments like these are her only bits of peace amongst the chaos, the only thing that keeps her sane and grounded. She really doesn’t know what she would do without you. You’re an angel, and she doesn’t understand how she got so lucky. 
After a moment of silence, Gwen says your name softly.
“Yes, dear?”
You whisper into the roots of her hair.
“Thank you for always being here for me.”
She says, even softer than before. You smile, running your thumbs against her skin.
“Of course. I’ll always be here when you need me.”
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sleepwalkersqueen · 4 years
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(Ignore this post, it’s just fucking... headcanon fluff.)
- Let’s just imagine... what it’d be like, if Enji had been a wholesome dad!
[Calculating 16 years back in the canon: Enji was 30, Toya was 9, Keigo was 7 (Rumi was 11) ]
- Enji saved Keigo from an abusive home, but when the HPSC notices Keigo’s bloody potential and wants to buy him... Enji just - adopts Keigo.
- Rei was angry about his sudden desicion: Because they already had huge responsibility with their other children! - But then she saw the tiny malnourished child who just escaped the abuse, without a home or anyone to turn to- and her heart just snapped. 
- Tiny Keigo knew he wasn’t wanted, so he made himself smaller and bowed to her. - But Rei just fell to her knees and hugged him really, really close.
- Toya next to them was like: “Yeah... actually, I wanted a dog - but a bird’s fine too.”
- The whole family went shopping to buy a bunch of wing-fitted kid-clothes. Kei’s just happy to have clothes and’s still too shy to ask for anything specific so fucking Toya ends up deciding what he tries on. Fuyumi next to them is like: “Tou, That’s just black. There’s no color- Wait- I think thats a mini-skirt, what the- What do you want with the lipstick!?” - Enji has to bring half of the clothes back.
- Enji starts to read guidebooks about therapheutic parenting for Keigo, but ends up overwhelming all of his kids with love and attenttion. He talks with Keigo that its okay to cry when he feels like it, but Keigo still just swallows everything down and is scared to make noise.
- Rei and Enji made sure Keigo’d eat and sleep enough, helped him preening his wings and constantly reasurred him that his accidental lil chirps are nothing to be ashamed of.
- But in the first month, instead of playing with his new siblings, Keigo constantly helps with hard work in the house and gardens without getting asked and doesn’t stop until they tell him to. Toya asks him about it at night. Keigo admits that he loves this place more than anything and is horrified of being tossed out again, so he tries to be worth their money.
- Toya punches him (softly, with love) in the face and tells him that he’s part of the family, even if he’d burn down down their house.
- Keigo feels like a stone falling from his chest, but the fear just doesn’t go away. One day he helps Enji do the dishes and he breaks a plate. And his whole world just cracks with that plate. He’s starts trembling and is like- “You can hit me and all, but please don’t toss me out!”
- Toya heared that and he’s like :O And Enji’s like >:O
- And then Toya stares at his father, grabs a plate and smashes it to the floor so it breaks. He grabs Keigo’s hand and screams: “If you wanna punish Kei, you gotta punish me too!”.
- Enji just hugs both of them, holds them really close: “Kei, we won’t ever toss you out, we love you and you’re a Todoroki now. That was just an accident. And Tou- I’d never hurt one of you!” - Touya’s like: “I know, I just wanted to smash a plate”
- After that Enji takes a day off and they all just play in the gardens. And one moment, Keigo just stops and looks at them laughing about a really bad joke he just made and he thinks: “Woa, I’ve a family now!” And he’s so happy, he starts crying. It’s the first time he cried since a long time, and it’s because of joy.
- Enji isn’t the no. 2 hero, since he spends more time with Rei and his kids. So he moves between 2nd and 4th place in the rankings, but he really doesn’t care. 
- He is still a kinda-dick to the public, but he actually talks about his family, when you ask him about them. (”Yes, my family is way better than yours. Are you blind?” *Pulls a picture out of his wallet* “Just look at my amazing sons and this pure-hearted angle of a daughter. Now out of the way, my wife said I should grab milk on my way home.”) And when he comes home can’t but smile when he sees Rei and his kids. He is really proud of them.
- Enji helps Natsuo with his homework and he makes soba with Fuyumi, plays referee for a sparring-match between Keigo and Touya. But neither of them accepts their limits or defeat, escalateing their fight until it get’s so heated, that Enji has to put a end to it, because he can’t see his kids hurting each other like this. So he let’s them fight him instead, forcing them to team up, and even though he just fakes defeat, he sees their potential.
- The kids are super scared sometimes that he doesn’t make it home after a huge fight, but Enji always returns to read the bed-time story before giving good-night-hugs, So they don’t have nightmares.
- Shoto is born and he’s allowed to sleep in his parents bed. So the other siblings want the same and they fall asleep in a puppy-family-pile. Enji sleeps half on the floor that night.
- Natsuo sees in a TV documentary that male baby-chickens get often killed instandly after they hatch... And so he freaks out, cries and hugs Keigo, like wanting to protect him. - They need the whole night to reassure him, that Keigo is in fact, not a chicken.
- One day the kids should help move some boxes up the staircase to Enji’s study. - And Keigo’s is like: “We can do that later, right guys? Let’s go see what’s inside first, play with it and then try if we can make it look like we never opened it. That’ll be fun!”; And Toya’s like: “Fucking finally” - Inside were reports about unsolved crime cases in the city. Toya and Keigo talk about it the whole month. They decide that they wanna become heroes together. 
- Enji “trains” with Fuyumi, Natsuo, Toya and Keigo - But it’s actually just goofing around and playing villan-attack. (So they know what to do if someone tries to harm them, but he always watches so noone gets hurt.) Toya and Keigo are the only ones to take the play seriously, since they want to become heros for real.
- Enji tells Toya that there’s no need for him to become a hero, if he isn’t fitted for using his quirk. Toya thinks about this, but works out extremly reffined techniques where he uses his fire more defined to avoid burns.
- Toya and Keigo constantly fight about who’s the strongest. (But they are careful not to seriously hurt each other and instandly stop when the other is down. They also teamed up, when a guy in Natsu’s class stalked and tried to bully him. There isn’t much stronger in this world than their big-bro-insticts.)
- Natsuo always cares for their injuries and then Rei gives the two household chores as punishemt.... - And then they fight about who should do the dirtier work.
- Later they met Rumi hanging around in the dangerous parts of the playground and started a fight about a last soda-can. Rumi just obliterated both of them. (since she is 3/6 years older.)
- Toya and Keigo go to UA and both win the sportsfestival first place in their year. They sparr and work-out together with Rumi. They go to different agencies during their internship and try to out-do each other in solved cases.
- They were supposed to babysit Shoto once. The kitched burned.
- Toya becomes a top ranked hero and the todorokis have a big family dinner twice a week. They always cook together and everything is chaotic but in the good way. 
- Toya pierces Keigos ears, because Keigo lost a bet. They start a big fight about it on the stage of the Hero-billboard-charts, live on TV. (- But they do team ups on every big mission to keep their backs safe. They’d litterally die giving the other cover.)
- Enji always tries to get team-ups with Toya, but Toya always dodges. (Because it’s kinda fucking embrassing to work with your dad, who has your baby-pictures in his wallet.)
- They are super fucking happy and nothing will ever change that.
EDIT: If anyone feels like writing this into a fic or something... I’d kiss ya feet and read the crap outta that!
EDIT 2: Like, really man. I need that fluff.
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mammonshuman92 · 3 years
Text
- Watched - Pt.3
(Mammon x GN!MC)
**TW: cussing, stalking, kidnapping, religion, 
Note: C/N (coworker name)
-
“Man, I’m starvin’. What’s takin’ so long anyway?” He grumbled, remembering the whole ‘first name basis’ thing with the delivery driver. 
He was laid on his back across your bed scrolling through social media, impatiently waiting for you to return. His stomach started to growl.
“Maybe I should go check? But, MC said to stay here so no one could see me.” He said to himself, a slight pout on his lips.
He heard a small shuffling noise come from the living room, it sounded like a paper bag crinkling.
Ok, ya got the food, now don’t be tryin’ to chit chat MC, I know how ya are. I’m dyin’ in here!
The bedroom was a straight shot down the hall from the door, making it impossible to sneak a quick peek without fully exposing himself.
He could hear you talking back and forth with...Alex. He huffed to himself remembering your chumminess with the take out guy. Something just seemed weird to him about the whole thing. 
Somethin’ is fishy about him always havin’ MC’s route or whatever. Does nobody else deliver for that place? I bet he’s got a crush on MC or somethin’. 
“I’ll kick his ass.” He said out loud, his own thoughts making him sour.
He listened again, trying to hear what was being said. He couldn’t hear any actual words, but he could hear Alex’s voice. Barely, though.
Wait a minute.. Is he whisperin’? What’s he gotta say to MC that requires whisperin’?! I gotta get outta here.
Mammon was getting himself worked up, assuming this delivery guy was confessing his love to you. He’d nearly convinced himself to march out there and confront the creep. To hell with staying hidden!
Before he could blow his cover, he heard something hit the front door followed by more shuffling movement. He calmed down a bit, thinking the noises he heard were of you getting the food inside and trying to kick the door shut.
He impatiently waited for you to call out, telling him the coast was clear and that he could finally come eat. But, you didn’t.
After a couple minutes passed with no new noise, he grew slightly anxious.
He stood up and started pacing beside the bed, feeling antsy.
C’mon, MC. What’re ya doin’? I’m witherin’ away! Before long I’m gonna shrink up and turn into a Little D or somethin’..
Suddenly, he heard voices again. Well, just the delivery guy’s voice, still a hushed tone. He groaned to himself.
“If he don’t hurry up and go away, I’m gonna eat him instead.” He grumbled quietly to himself.
Something didn’t feel right though. Why was Alex’s voice the only one he heard? It had been at least five minutes since he heard you say something. It’s not like he just missed what you said because you were too quiet for him to hear, or you just chose not to contribute to the guy’s conversation.
You always talk, to basically anyone you come in contact with, never really knowing a stranger. He’s pretty sure you haven’t gone five minutes without talking since he met you. That’s why it seemed so weird to him. 
That alone wasn’t really enough to expose himself though, was it? 
To say you’ve been through a lot lately is an understatement. You’re sleep deprived and your nerves are shot. With everything that’s been going on, it would be more weird if you didn’t act a little different. He didn’t blame you for not being your usual self.
He still couldn’t shake this feeling though.
A sudden, loud noise outside got his attention.
Was that a car door?
He moved quickly, putting his back against the wall, scooting over to the doorway.
“MC? Is he gone?” He whispered.
No answer.
Screw it.
Very slowly, he peeked his head around the corner, careful not to be seen.
“MC?” He whispered again, louder this time. 
Still nothing.
Somethin’ is definitely wrong..
He fully emerged in the doorway, eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. As he quickly made his way up the hall, he noticed the door standing wide open. He could see that an older model car was parked in front of the house and you were no where in sight.
Hand still on the door knob, he turned around to call out into the house, “MC, where ya at? Ya know ya left the door-”
Before he could finish, the car outside suddenly accelerated, kicking up dirt and rocks as they sped off.
What the..?
“Guess he didn’t like his tip..?” He whispered to himself.
He shut the door and turned around slowly, only taking a couple steps before he came to a stop. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had.
“Oi, MC! D-don’t ya know you’re supposed to answer when THE Great Mammon calls for ya?” He waited, but the house was still. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears.
He walked further into the house, quickly looking around the kitchen before heading back down the hall.
Why ain’t they answerin’.. c-could it..? Nah..
“This ain’t funny ya know..” He called through the house, hoping that you’d somehow slipped past him. 
Again, he was met with bone chilling silence.
Slowly, he started piecing all the little weird things that didn’t make sense together like a puzzle. The silent house and wide open door, abandoned food, the car speeding away.. 
The same delivery guy somehow always having this route...
His heart sank.
No, no, no, no!
He ran from room to room in a panic, desperately calling out to you, begging you to answer him.
This ain’t happenin’.. They gotta be hidin’ or something. Yeah, that’s it!
“MC! Where are ya? Talk to me, please!” He screamed, voice breaking around the hard lump forming in his throat, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.
No, it can’t be.. It can’t be..
With trembling hands, he dug his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing your number.
“C’mon, pick up. Please, please pick up.” He pleaded as he paced the floor.
His stomach dropped when he heard it ringing within the house, quickly following the sound until he found it on the coffee table where you had left it earlier. He stood there unmoving, staring at his picture and contact name with hearts on the screen, tears streaking down his face.
The weight of it all came crashing down like a tsunami, forcing him to his knees. With his face in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.
I shoulda listened to my gut when I thought somethin’ was wrong! Why did I wait so long to look for ‘em?! He took MC, he took MC! Dammit!
How did he let this happen? He was right here, right here, and he didn’t sense the danger. He couldn't protect you again, letting you fall right into the hands of the psycho creep who had been relentlessly harassing you, who was planning to do who knows what.
He had to do something. Anything. 
Get the hell up! Ya gotta go find MC NOW! There’s no tellin’ what this creep is gonna try.
He stood up and wiped his face, trying to compose himself as he switched into demon form.
“I can still catch ‘em!” He made a beeline for the door, stopping abruptly as he reached the thresh hold.
“Wait, it’s the middle of the day and this ain’t the Devildom. A demon flyin’ around on a man hunt would be real bad.” He thought aloud.
People would most likely panic and if history proves anything, nothing good ever comes from humans when they panic.
He had to try and think rationally, as hard as it was. He wanted to rush in and save you as quick as he could, but going in blind without a decent plan could get you hurt...or possibly worse.
He switched out of demon form and moved back into the living room, trying to come up with an idea.
Your phone was here so he couldn’t have you tracked by GPS and he didn’t remember much about the car except that it was older. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like since he’d had to hide. All he knew about him was his first name and that he worked at a restaurant. 
“The take out place would for sure have everything about him on file!” He quickly punched in the name of the place into his phone’s search engine, then suddenly paused.
“Wait a minute..I can’t just waltz in there and ask for someone’s personal info. They’d call the cops or somethin’. Damn!”
He was beginning to feel hysterical. He didn’t have much to go on and every idea he came up with was crap. A few ‘ding’ sounds from the coffee table tore him from his thoughts. It was your phone.
Someone named C/N had sent you a couple texts about work and judging by the text log, you talked to them often.
“Man, I hope this C/N knows somethin’ cause I’ve got nothin’ else to go on..” 
Luckily, he remembered the name of the coffee shop, having heard you talk about work often. A quick internet search and he had the directions. He was out the door like a shot.
With his newfound breadcrumb, he was one step closer to finding you.
-
A bell chimed above the door when he entered the shop, alerting the worker behind the counter of his presence.
“Hi, how can I help you?” They greeted him as he walked up to the counter.
“Hey, is there a C/N here by any chance?”
“Oh, uh, yeah just a sec.” They went through a doorway behind the counter, returning moments later with another person in tow.
“Hello..? I’m sorry, do I know you?” They asked, approaching Mammon, visibly confused.
“No, but you know MC, right?” He asked, uninterested in beating around the bush.
“I’m not sure I can answer that.” They said cautiously, visibly tense.
They do know somethin’.
“Here, look.” He said, pulling up the gallery on his phone, showing them multiple pictures of you and MC together.
“Oh, so you’re the boyfriend. MC has told me about you. Uh, anyway, is there something I can help you with? I need to get back to work..”
“Yeah, has MC ever mentioned anythin’ about a guy named Alex before?” He asked.
Please, please, please
“Alex..Alex..” They repeated, tapping a finger on their chin as they thought it over. “They did, actually. We went to the movies about two months ago, and ran into a guy they knew. It was their usual deliver guy I think? Said his name was Alex. He gave me the creeps.” They explained.
“Why is that?”
Yes! We’re gettin’ somewhere.
“He just seemed..I don’t know, off? And when I met him, I actually remembered seeing him a few days earlier on my way to work. There was another A.T.A. protest and I saw him in the group demonstrators. He denied being there when I brought it up, saying it had to be his doppelganger or something, but I know it was him. When we ran into him at the movies he said he had just got off work, and he was wearing the exact same shirt and hat as the day of the protest.” They informed him.
“Wait, A.T.A.? What’s that?” He asked curiously.
“Anti-Treaty Association. They’re exactly what the name suggests. Everyone involved in the exchange program is public knowledge. Names, pictures, updates on how the program was going, etc. All easily found on any search engine. If he is part of the A.T.A., why would he be friendly with MC? There’s no way he didn’t know who they were.” They said.
This Alex guy is definitely the stalker. I bet if I dig into this A.T.A. I can find him..
“Alright. Thanks for your help.” He said as he turned to leave, C/N took a few steps after him.
“Hey, uh, is MC okay? I know they haven’t been themselves lately, but uh, you coming here and asking all these questions kinda scares me..” They admitted, fear for their friend written on their face.
“MC is uh, goin’ through some stuff. I’m gonna put an end to it though.” His voice was rough, angry. His face however, was full of desperation and sadness.
Mammon thanked C/N again for their information and left the coffee shop on a new mission. He uncovered another piece of the puzzle, new information that could lead him to you.
No one knew exactly what this guy was capable of, but he had the most important piece of Mammon's existence with him. There wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to do, in any realm, to bring you back safely. He would breach the Celestial Gates without thinking twice if it would bring you back to him.
He was going to show them exactly why he's the second strongest of the seven rulers of the underworld.
I’m comin’ MC. I will find ya, I promise.
-
“Get out.”
The scorching heat inside the trunk made you nauseous, and severely thirsty. You felt weak and disoriented, unable to move much. You weren’t sure how long you had been stuck in there before you finally felt the car come to a stop. The lid opened, blazing sunshine poured inside the dark space, making your eyes water and squint reflexively.
“I said, get out!” He screamed.
He wrapped his hand around your wrist hard and yanked you from the trunk, letting you drop to the ground. You were much to weak to try and brace yourself so you fell pretty hard, getting small scrapes and dirt on your elbows and forearms.
You tried to open your eyes to try and get an idea of where he had taken you, but before they could adjust to the blinding sunlight, he tied something around your eyes.
“Can’t have you trying to escape.” He said to himself, as he finished tying up your hands. The restraints were very tight, already starting to hurt your wrists.
“I’m not going to.” You said weakly, your words making him laugh.
“Well, at least your a smart demon slut. Somewhat, anyway.”
Honestly, you weren’t planning to escape. If the opportunity presented itself, you would make a run for it, but you weren’t actively looking for an escape route. However, you had no intention of giving this creep what he wanted, or giving up without one hell of a fight.
Pulling you by the restraint around your wrists, he began to drag you across the ground. He let go of you a minute or so later. He didn’t drag you very far, ending up in some kind of building judging by the change in temperature and the rough feeling of concrete beneath you. It felt a little cooler in here as if you were out of direct sunlight, but the air was still fairly hot and sticky.
You did your best to pay attention to the things around you. The sounds, smells, what little you could feel. Outside you could hear cows in the distance and some kind of humming noise. It was definitely hot, but more like that humid feeling before it storms. You could also smell it too, the incoming rain. That warm earthy smell.
You could hear Alex nearby messing with something metal, there was also the sound of running water somewhere close.
I can’t believe Alex was actually the stalker this entire time... Explains how pictures taken of me from outside my house though.. I wonder what he plans to do..
You promptly chased away those thoughts in order to keep yourself calm, replacing them with thoughts of him, the time you’d spent together along with all the memories that came with it.
How soft and fluffy his hair felt when ran your fingers through it. The way he smelled; not the Devilish No.5, although you did love it, it’s smell closely related to the famous human world version, but his smell. Crisp and clean like fresh laundry or new clothes, slightly smoky like leather because of his favorite jacket and small undertones of warm cinnamon and vanilla.
The always groaned about your selection for movie night but was the first one to get really into it. Having a concert while cooking when you had kitchen duty together, getting in trouble for talking and laughing in class and later being scolded by Lucifer for it. How he always used to complain how bad humans smell, only to find out he started buying your brand of body wash for himself and would also try to casually smell his hoodie after you’d worn it.
The thought of never seeing him again, never experiencing anymore memories like these or the chance to make new ones, kept haunting you. A hard lump was forming in your throat, tears beginning to prick your eyes.
“Aw, what’s the matter darlin’? The abomination you chose as a lover isn’t rushing in to save you like Prince Charming? Imagine that.” He spat. 
You ignored his sarcastic comments, wanting answers of you own, “Why are you doing this?” You could hear him walking toward you, his footsteps getting louder as he approached. The sound stopped abruptly, then he crouched down next to your head.
“I told you, you need to be cleansed.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.
He grabbed your wrist restraint again and drug you another ten feet or so. Easily picking you up and hoisting you into the air until the rope around your wrists caught on something. He let go, your full weight coming down on your restraint. You were suspended in the air, feet barely skimming the floor. 
He checked your ropes to make sure it was still secure with the added weight and gravity, then he removed your blindfold. The sudden change causing you to blink several times.
Your previous assumptions had been right, you appeared to be in a warehouse that had been abandoned for quite some time. Most of the windows were broken, big vines and other foliage creeping into the building. The rusted remnants of machinery scattered around the large, open room. You looked above you to see that you were hanging from a large hook that was suspended by thick chain from a metal beam up above. Far to your left you could see what looked like a large pool or even one of those big basins you usually use to water cattle, with a hose draped over the side. There’s the source of the running water you heard.  
Wait...a stock tank with water, ’cleansed’...is he going to..baptize me?
“Cleansed? That’s been mentioned quite a bit in the dozens of letters I’ve been getting. Well, you would know, huh? Since you’re the one behind it all. What I don’t understand is why?” 
It came off as more sarcastic than you intended, but you didn’t really care. You had been terrified for weeks about the stalker. What would they do when they finally got to you? You haven’t truly felt alone in over a month, as if someone was always hiding in the shadows watching, waiting. Your anxiety has been through the roof and you’re in a nearly constant state of paranoia and fear. 
But, now that he was in front of you, you didn’t feel scared. You wanted answers.
“Because they don’t belong with our kind. Uniting our realms is blasphemy and will throw the human world into chaos.”
‘Don’t belong with our kind’..? Whoa, what the hell..
“Blasphemy? But, the Celestial Realm is on board with it. The angels in the exchange progr-” He cut you off before you could finish, his sudden booming voice echoed through the spacious warehouse, startling you.
He stood with his back to you, facing a long metal table that looked as if it used to be a conveyor or some other piece that once belonged to one of the old machines inside the long forgotten building.
“The exchange program was a joke! Those devils just needed a good cover to get their claws on our realm so they could take it over! Using their dirty tricks and magic to bring corruption and pollute us with sin.” He stared you down like a mad man while he yelled.
This was so bizarre, he sounded insane. Like, one of those people that wore tin foil hats. This version of Alex, the real one, was scary. You would’ve never guessed in a million years that this guy was the same one that you talked about the weather and current events with a few times a week.
“None of that is even remotely true! They just want to bring peace among the realms, to prove that they are not what all the harmful, hateful rhetoric claims they are. So we can all just co-exist! That was the entire point of the exchange program! To learn about the Devildom; it’s people and culture.” You fought back.
His face twisted up in disgust, visibly becoming more and more agitated every time you spoke. He stalked closer, stopping maybe six feet in front of you, staring at you intently.
“That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to be cleansed. You’re a human, or has being a demon whore and becoming the embodiment of sin made you forget that? You are nothing but a weak, powerless human to them. A pawn in their bigger plan, collateral damage if things went wrong.” 
You never cared what assumptions people made or the rumors they started regarding your stay in the Devildom. However, when the very demons you loved and cared about became the subject of people’s whispering, you were willing to fight with no intentions of backing down.
You, out of everyone, who had to live in the House of Lamentation for a year, escaped death from a couple of the brothers, helped them mend familial bonds, and held pacts with all of them, should know better than anyone, exactly who they are.
“You don’t know anything about them!” You yelled lurching forward as you filled with anger, lightly swinging back and forth where you were suspended, the thick chains above you clanking, “The things they’ve been through, they things they’ve seen. The sacrifices they had to make..” You heart ached for them. What happened during the Great Celestial War, their fall.. They’ve been through a great deal and they, along with the rest of the Devildom, are undeserving of such prejudiced hatred. 
“Being demons doesn’t automatically mean they are bad people, just like being human doesn’t make you good.” You stared him down, lacing venom in your words. He squinted his eyes at you, unhappy with your implications. “That fact was thoroughly proven during my time there. Some of kindest people I have ever met, as well as the people I love and cherish the most, are demons.”
You would forever stand behind the program, your now second home, and all the friends and loved ones you made along the way. No matter what this psycho could come up with, you would not be swayed. You knew them for who they are, all Alex knew was hatred.
He scoffed at your words, walking toward you as he shook his head in disgust, eyes boring into yours. He stopped just inches in front of your face. You held onto your resolve, staring back at him intently, not letting him see that you were completely terrified. It’s what he wanted; to feel superior and pass judgement on those he deemed unworthy.
You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction though; to feed his ego, his delusions. You refused to bow to fear, instead giving it all you had to make sure that if this was how it would end for you, you would fight against his prejudice and hatred until your final moments.
“We will start with the normal cleansing.” He backed away from you, confirming your suspicions as he gestured to the stock tank. “Although I think your soul might be too far gone for it to be completely effective.” He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.
“This may call for a more extensive purification.” 
PART FOUR COMING SOON!
95 notes · View notes
onfreckledwings · 3 years
Text
follow up to this ❤️💚
When he wakes in the deepest recess of the night, Cas is not asleep at his side.
He rubs the sleep from his eyes and glances around the room. He doesn’t need to turn on the light on the bedside table to know. The space next to him in the bed is cold, the room is empty.
He’s alone.
His stomach drops to the space between his knees as he pushes himself upright. His heart is a pitter-patter in his chest; the blood rushing in his ears a deafening roar.
“Cas?” Dean calls out uselessly. He swings his legs gingerly over the side of the bed and walks slowly to his door, turning the knob and stepping into the hall.
“Cas?!” He calls out again, louder this time, glancing down both sides of the corridor and listening for movement. He sees nothing, hears nothing.
His heart begins to hammer against his ribs, and his mind starts to race.
Shit.
He walks a little too quickly throughout the bunker, ignoring the pain that slams from his back through his chest at the movement, and checks the kitchen, then the library. When it’s empty too, he heads into the war room.
He spots Cas’s phone on the map table, and when he walks over to tap the screen, the time glares back at him.
2:32
Dean takes a deep breath. He thinks for a moment, and when an idea comes to him, he tosses on his jacket hanging on the back of one of the chairs.
He heads for the garage.
When Dean opens the side garage door, it creaks and groans loudly in protest. A quick scan of the woodlands behind the bunker finds Cas standing in the middle of a small clearing, wrapped in a thick, oversized blanket that trails at his feet in the frozen dirt.
Relief floods through him like waves on the ocean. His shoulders drop, tension ebbing from his muscles, and he shuts the door gently behind him instead of letting it clang against the frame.
Cas is looking up at the diamond-studded sky, and Dean smiles as he watches.
He zippers up his coat against the mid-winter chill as the breeze hits against him, swaying against the rustling branches high above. He inhales deeply, the scent of the cold air mixing with the towering bald cypress trees cleansing his lungs. He approaches Cas silently, hand reaching out to caress his back, palm gripping his shoulder gently as he stands next to him.
Cas sighs and lets his eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments.
“Hello, Dean.”
A huff of breath escapes his nose in a chuckle.
“Hey,” he smiles, letting his hand squeeze Cas’s neck affectionately. “Leave a note next time, huh? Scared the crap outta me.” He keeps his voice gentle, teasing, and Cas turns his chin to meet Dean’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he says solemnly, eyes drifting to the ground before meeting his again. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
Dean smiles, rubbing soothing circles against Castiel’s shoulder blade. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m just sayin’,” he murmurs, and they both turn their faces towards the sky.
It’s a cloudless night. There are stars everywhere. The moon is high and full and shining. It’s beautiful.
“All things bein’ equal?” he continues, watching Cas’s reaction in his periphery, “I’d rather you wake me up than just wakin’ without you next to me.”
Cas thins his lips into a sad smile that doesn’t reach his eyes as he casts them to the ground. Dean tries again.
“I dunno if you’ve noticed, but...I don’t need to sleep with a gun under my pillow these days. So it’s not like I’ll accidentally shoot ya.”
Cas’s eyes close then, a rueful chuckle escaping his lips as his chin drops a little to his chest. Dean can tell he’s holding something back.
The former angel is crestfallen.
Dean’s brow furrows in concern, and he wraps his hands around Cas’s wrists to tug him towards him so that they’re face to face. He lets his hands travel to frame his cheeks.
When Cas’s eyes open, they glisten with tears.
“Hey,” he whispers, crowding closer into Cas’s space. “What’s goin’ on?”
Cas makes an attempt to shake his head, to try to dismiss Dean’s worry.
“No no—” Dean says gently. “Talk to me.”
Cas screws his eyes shut, tears falling in moon-bathed streams down his cheeks before he meets Dean’s gaze.
“I’m not an angel anymore,” he murmurs quietly.
Dean’s chest aches at the pain in Cas’s voice as he tilts his head in sympathy. He sounds so small and vulnerable, but there’s something else there, too.
Dean’s thumbs stroke against Cas’s cheekbones, feather-light. “I know,” he whispers, tears of his own sneaking into his throat.
But he has to be strong.
“I can’t imagine—”
“How can I ever be enough for you like this?”
Dean freezes mid-sentence. His heart sinks before it shatters, bleeding in the space between his feet. The crease between his eyes deepens as he frowns, eyes widening in disbelief.
“What?”
Cas steps out of Dean’s hold, and the fallen leaves crunch beneath his feet. He wraps the blanket tighter around him as he turns to face the sky again.
The roaring in Dean’s ears return, and he stares at Cas’s profile. Nausea starts to spread and twist like ribbons in his stomach.
“I don’t have the ability to heal. I can’t teleport. I can’t...do any of the things I used to,” Cas breathes, voice firm as stone. He’s not looking for pity, not looking for anything to challenge his thoughts.
He’s just being.
Dean’s head is spinning, and he’s so flabbergasted he can’t formulate words in his mouth.
Cas turns his head to meet him again. “How could I make up for that now?” As just a human goes unspoken; but Dean hears it all the same.
In that moment, he feels the rebar ripping through his gut all over again. He steels himself against the urge to double over.
“I don’t know how to be worthy enough,” he continues, voice solemn and jaded and numb all at once. “I don’t know how to be enough—for you—as just...this.” he finishes then, glancing himself up and down, hands stretched out in a shrug before crossing his arms with the blanket again. Cas sighs heavily as he rotates on his heel to stare up at the moon, his back to Dean.
All of the air leaves his lungs. His heart speeds up a little in a panic. He stares unblinkingly at Cas’s silhouette, and the wind gusts in the woods around them. He can hear the branches rustling above, and he can see Castiel’s thick hair swaying against the wind, sticking up every which way.
His stomach rolls. His mouth goes dry.
“Enough?” Dean mumbles in a hoarse whisper, more to himself than anything else. He strides forward, grabbing onto one of Castiel’s shoulders as he walks to stand in front of him.
Cas won’t meet his eyes. He just keeps staring at the world far beyond, hidden and cloaked in darkness.
Maybe he’s looking at Heaven.
Dean sniffles and reaches both hands on Cas’s shoulders.
“How could you ever think that you ain’t enough for me?”
But if Dean’s honest with himself, he knows. He knows he’s done a pretty shit job over the years of making Cas feel valued and wanted and loved —regardless of the status of his grace.
Cas closes his eyes and sighs heavily. When he opens them, he keeps them canted to the ground between their feet. The look Dean finds on his face scares him; it’s defeated, empty.
Broken.
His shoulders sag underneath Dean’s fingers.
Castiel looks exhausted.
“Okay, look…” Dean begins, shaking Cas gently to force their eyes to meet.
“I know...I know I’ve said things, an-and done things over the years that’ve hurt you. I know we’ve had our moments. But man…”
He trails off for only a moment, letting one hand slide down Cas’s chest to fist it into his shirt, the other reaching to grasp one side of his neck.
“‘M a wreck without you,” he grits out, green eyes boring into blue. “Losin’ you...an’ every time I’ve ever lost you it just—it always almost finished me.” He pulls Cas in closer by his shirt, and Castiel’s hands fall to grip Dean’s sides to prevent himself from stumbling.
“It was never about your mojo, Cas. Ever. ‘N I’m so sorry you ever thought it was.” Dean’s eyes are watering now, and he purses his lips as he lightly punches Cas’s chest.
“It’s just always been you.”
And maybe he’s not making any sense. But Dean’s never been good with words, and his chin is trembling, and Cas’s eyes are spilling over without a blink.
They’re so fucking blue.
And Dean’s heart is tattered in pieces on the floor of his ribcage.
“You’ve always been enough.” Dean whimpers, and he lets his own tears break free through the dam of his eyelids, falling in rivulets down his stubbled cheeks.
“Just you. I need you to see that.”
He rests his cheek against Cas’s temple and wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him into his chest as he chokes back a sob. Cas’s arms come to wrap around Dean’s middle as he nuzzles his nose into the crook of Dean’s neck.
“Please, Cas. Please believe that.” Dean chokes out, and he knows he’s babbling now. But Cas squeezes him tighter, and Dean lets his mouth fall into the swath of skin where Cas’s neck slopes into his shoulder. He crushes Cas into him.
They cry together until there are no more tears to shed; they hold each other, mending their broken pieces and bones and marrow and flesh.
The cracks in their hearts begin to heal.
Dean doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Cas’s lips are against his ear, shushing him and murmuring sweetly against the shell, hands rubbing up and down his back.
They begin to sway in each other’s arms.
“You’re it for me, Cas,” Dean sniffles. “Just you.” Not your grace, not your wings.
He pulls away to rest their foreheads together. “You hear me?”
I love you.
Castiel nods, closing his eyes before meeting green. Dean watches as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and they meet in the middle in a chaste, open-mouthed kiss. Cas’s hands come up to frame Dean’s face.
“I hear you,” Cas whispers hoarsely as they part, and he runs a hand through Dean’s hair. Dean can’t help it when his eyes flutter at the touch.
A small, cold wet sensation stuns his nose then; Dean opens his eyes and tilts his head back to see thick, fluffy snowflakes beginning to fall around them. A small chuckle escapes his throat, and Cas follows his gaze. When another snowflake lands on the bridge of Dean’s nose, Cas’s index finger comes to catch it.
Dean’s eyes fall back to his. What he finds there is marveling.
“I dunno how y’do that,” he mumbles. “Make your eyes so friggin’ blue.”
Cas just smiles through those wonderfully thick lashes. He reaches to grab one of Dean’s hands, cupping it between his own as he brings it to his lips. “It’s a gift,” he quips.
Dean chuckles with a nod, and taking advantage of their height difference, he tugs Cas forward so he can press a kiss to the muss of velvet black hair. He inhales the scent of his own shampoo that mixes with the natural essence of Castiel: earth and rain and lightning. Dean grins as Cas snuggles into his neck, pressing a kiss to the skin there.
“Wanna go back in?” he mumbles against the thick strands. Cas lets out a yawn.
“Mm-hmm.”
Dean snorts as he reaches an arm around Cas’s neck, walking them both back towards the bunker. Cas must notice him wince slightly in pain at the angle, because then he’s reaching up a hand to cover his, and there’s an arm snaking around his waist.
“Lean on me,” he commands. And it leaves no room for argument. So Dean smiles, and lets his weight sink against the man against him, who accepts it all willingly.
Just like he always has.
They’re almost at the door when Dean stills, grasping the fabric of the blanket.
“Hey,” he says. Cas stops to look at him, letting Dean turn slightly in his hold.
“Merry Christmas, Cas.”
The smile Cas gives him is like the Star of Bethlehem. Cas leans in, mouth ghosting his as their foreheads connect.
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”
271 notes · View notes
calif0rnia-lovers · 4 years
Text
i want you around.
song link incase you didn’t catch the vibe from the title. 
Pairing: Frank Castle x Reader
Warnings: None. Just the return of soft Frank doing coupley shit when he’s not even in a “relationship”
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Request: You convince to Frank to take a bath with you to help him relax.
Words: 2.3K
“I don’t see what the fuss is all about.”
Frank may not be as wound tight as he is on an average day, but he knows coming over here hopped up on sleep deprivation and mediocre diner food was not the smartest course of action. Even on a rare eight hours of sleep keeping up with you, when you’re in one of your moods, is a challenge. 
In the time he’s known you, Frank has learned you have more than just one. Mood that is. For someone who’s favorite mantra is “I don’t wanna get your hopes up when I’m not the man you’re looking for” Frank is good at remembering the type of things a boyfriend should. 
Strangely enough, he hasn’t quite figured out how to approach this situation. Each attempt he’s taken in the past has failed, miserably. 
His least favorite of your moods is the one you’re in now. This is the one that leaves Frank Castle powerless. It can knock him on his ass quicker than any bullet slung his way.
Frank can take the ‘angry as fucking shit’ mood any day. He can take you laying into him for doing something stupid like showing up to the dinner to meet your friends, for the first time ever, with a fresh black eye and busted lip. He can take the “leave me alone but don’t leave me alone” mood. Comfortable silence is a favorite of Frank’s. On the flip, he can even handle your “my co-worker annoyed the living shit out of me today, so I need you to listen to my rant even if you’re watching the game” mood. He know its best to keep your wine rack stocked with your favorite de-stressor. 
As he thinks about it, trying his best to read the room in your cramped apartment bathroom, Frank realizes his favorite is when you've missed him enough to allow him to latch onto you without protest. 
If he’s being honest, that was the one he was hoping to find you in after a few days apart.
But...he didn’t, and Frank can’t stand the mood you’re in now. 
His fingers comb through his hair, mind racing on a quick solution of getting you out of the “I worry he's giving in again" mood. When he stopped by your apartment this evening, way earlier than his usual 3 a.m. shuffling, Frank wasn’t expecting...this.
The problem with this mood is that you don’t actually say that you’re worried about him. 
Frank can count on his hand the number of times you’ve physically used the word "worried" when speaking about him, at least to his face. 
The "I worry he's giving in again" mood may be his least favorite, but Frank knows he deserves it. He knew you had every right to worry. You were there the last time he let Frank Castle take the back burner while the Punisher went on a rampage. It wasn't pretty.
It also took a lot longer for Frank Castle to return. 
When you’re in this mood, you won't tell Frank what you're thinking. It's not that he won't listen. He will. Frank always listens to you. It's just that his seemingly dormant partner will only let him hear half of what you're saying. 
Instead of long drawn out lectures, your eyes and movements do all the talking. 
But honestly, Frank knew it was bound to happen soon. 
The last time you’d seen him his knuckles were split open, the skin bloody and bruised. A walk in the park compared to the injuries you’ve seen on him before, but you knew the less damage to Frank the worse the result of his actions. 
Frank’s eyes pass over the label on the purple bottle he’s retrieved from the sink, his hand rubbing against the back of his neck.
“...would it kill you to take a night off and relax like a normal person...” Your voice comes back into focus as he glances your way. “....this city is going to kill you, if you let it, Frank.”
“Lucky for you I’m not going down without a fight, sweetheart.” 
The teasing smile on his lips earns Frank a pair of rolling eyes.
“Yeah, well...you should let me do this for you.” You huff as you readjust the knob. “Make up for all the hell you put me through.” 
Frank studies the bottle in his hands before glancing back to you where you sit on the edge of the slowly filling tub.
He softly shakes his head, his chest rising and falling with a huff. 
“Fine,” he murmurs, his brow furrowing as he attempts to make out the label before him. “The things I do for you.” 
You shoot him a wink before dipping your hand in to test the water.
“Lavande de Haute-” His eyes roll as he lifts the bottle. “This crap probably wasn’t even made in France.”
“Whatever. It has lavender which is proven to have aromatherapy benefits such as relaxation.” 
“Uh-huh,” Frank mumbles as he turns the bottle around and begins scanning the back. “Just let me have a beer I’ll relax just fine.”
You stick your hand out, your fingers wagging for his attention.
“Frank, give me the bottle.”
Shrugging off the sink, Frank passes the bottle over, his arms crossing over his chest. 
Turning the bottle upside down, you give it a squeeze smiling as a generous amount of the contents slip into the water. The aroma hits Frank instantly, his now scrunching in distaste at the overpowering scent.
“Nah, I don’t need all that,” he says, the corner of his lips turning up as you glare at him before squeezing in more for good measure adding to the quickly forming bubbles. 
“It’ll be fine,” you wave as you stand. Frank catches your hips the moment you’re upright. He guides your body forward until your hips press against his. The kiss he brushes against your lips drags your fingers through the locks at the nape of his neck. His nose brushes against yours, his brow arching as you lean back to meet his gaze. “I promise your superhuman powers will not dwindle. I might even be able to guarantee your survival because it is one bubble bath. You can make it, I have faith in you, Frank Castle.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles as you stand on your toes to place a quick kiss against his cheek. “Let’s get this over with.”
The triumphant smile on your lips pulls a grin to his.
“I love it when you give me what I want.”
Moving to tug his shirt over his head, Frank begins to undress as you sit the bottle back under the sink. He drops it into your outstretched hand.
“What’s next?” He chuckles as he watches you quickly fold the shirt. “Candles?”
“Of course, what am I? An amateur? Come on.”
“I was kidding,” Frank groans as your fingers interlaced with his.
Frank drags his feet as you lead him into the hallway, his hands finding your waist. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he makes it nearly impossible for you to walk. He presses a soft kiss against your neck, his chin resting against your shoulder as you pause outside of the hallway closet.
Opening the door, you take a moment to study the options listing them off as Frank concentrates on leaving kiss against your skin.
“Pink sands…Mahogany Teakwood...Sandalwood...Amber and Vanilla...Eucalyptus and Siberian Pine....”
When he doesn’t respond, you glance over your shoulder at him expectantly.
His deadpan expression cracks just a little before he huffs.
“Let’s try the Pine one.”
“Eucalyptus and Siberian Pine it is.”
Retrieving the candle, you push it into his hands before shutting the closet and turning down the hall.
Frank’s eyes widen as you disappear around the corner.
“There’s more?”
When you don’t respond, he follows you into the kitchen. His shoulder rests against the wall as you stand on your toes.
“The night is not perfect without.” Rifling through the cabinet, you turn to reveal two wine glasses. “A glass of wine.”
“I’d prefer something a little stronger than that, sweetheart,” he admits as you study the wine rack on your left. “What about that single malt from last time-”
“I thought you were doing this for me.”
You lift the bottle of Pinot Noir. Frank’s eyes roll, but the smile on his lips says it all.
“Trust the process, Frank.”
Frank begins to “trust the process” by focusing on lighting the candle while you cut off the water.
Sitting the candle aside, Frank lets his eyes pass over the ridiculous amount of bubbles on the surface of the steaming water.
“All we need are the rose petals,” you smile as you take in your masterpiece.
Frank chuckles, but the smile on your face makes him wonder if you’re serious.
“Okay, that’s taking it-”
“Kidding,” you smile as your hand finds his waistband. “Now. Get outta these pants, and get your butt in the tub.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Frank concentrates on undressing as you riffle through the contents under your sink. Leaving his clothes in a pile, he steps into the tub before lowering himself into the steaming water.
A sigh of approval escapes his lips as the heat engulfs him.
Even if he doesn’t admit it. The mixture of the heat and the scents swirling in the air force his muscles to relax.
You concentrate on uncorking the wine as he sinks deeper into the water. He rests against the back of the tub, his arms coming up to rest on the sides.
“Your wine,” you smile as you pause by the tub.
Frank accepts the glass, indulging you with a sip. His brow arches as he lets the flavor sink in. Taking another sip, he gives you a nod of approval before nodding towards the sink.
“Find what you were looking for?” He asks as you fill your own glass.
“I did, actually.” The mischievous grin that spread across your face causes Frank to shake his head with a chuckle.
“At this point, I’m fully trusting the process.”
“Good,” you smile as you retrieve a jar from the sink.
Taking a seat on the edge of the tub, you hold up the jar for Frank to read.
“Wild Berry & Honey Yogurt Recovery Mask.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should stop using your face as a punching bag.”
“Trust me, I try and avoid it,” Frank chuckles as you concentrating on applying the mask to his face.
“I’ll put one on too if it’ll make you feel better,” you tease as your fingers brush along the bridge of his nose.
“You could get in here with me,” he speaks quietly, his eyes remaining closed as you apply the remainder of the face mask. “That’ll make me feel better than any of this stuff.” 
“Not yet,” you smile as he releases a huff. “Give me 10 minutes, and I’ll take this off for you.”
Frank settles in.
You’re pretty sure he nearly nods off with each passing minute. If you’d told earlier, Frank wouldn’t have believed that this would work, but the blue loofah you drag along his chest and shoulders lock him in a bubble of comfort. By the time you've removed the excess mask from his skin, Frank's glass is empty and he has a satisfied smile on his face.
“You gonna join me, sweetheart?”
"Depends...if you remember this is your time to relax."
Frank's brow furrow as you remain seated.
"The second you start trying to feel me up I'm getting out." You warn.
"That's the best way to relax," he chuckles as you begin to undress.
"I'm serious, Frank-"
"Yeah, yeah," Frank mumbles, his teasing coming out muffled as he leans over press a kiss against your thigh. A pout sets in as he watches you climb in the tub before moving to rest against the opposite end. Before you can get settled, the water threateningly sloshes as Frank sits up his hands grabbing yours.
"Come here," he adds a "please" when you resist.
You groan as he tightens his grip around your hands, gently pulling you forward. Giggles mask the sound of the sloshing water as Frank’s grip easily lifts you onto his lap. His hand finds the small of your back, his eyes watching as you take a sip of your wine. He leans forward bringing his mouth to your shoulder.
"There," he sighs as your arm wraps around his shoulders. Burrowing his face against the warmth of your skin, he smiles as your fingers toy with his hair. "Much better."
"Glad I could be of service."
Your giggles fill the air as your weight shifts forward. Frank drags your body with him as he rests back against the tub.
"You know,” he starts. He pauses as you take another sip of wine, your brow arching in anticipation. “This...Lavande de Haute stuff ain’t that bad.”
"I hate to say I told you so," you giggle as you set your glass aside. "But-"
"We both know you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles, placing a kiss against your lips.
You lean forward chasing his lips as he pulls away. Stealing a final kiss you allow your lips to press against the bridge of his nose. His eyes drift shut, his body relaxing beneath yours. Your lips travel along the bridge of his nose, passing beneath his eyes. He hums a groan of approval as your kisses move to his cheeks. You repeat the process before allowing your lips to press against the corner of his mouth.
"See what happens when you trust the process?"
A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest as his hand reaches up to catch the back of your neck. Nodding, he smiles softly as he guides your lips to his.
Your body relaxes against his as you grant him access to the one thing he's been wanting since his arrival. His grip remains firm. One hand pressed against the nape of your neck, his other massaging the curve of your hip. He kisses you softly, his tongue teasing yours until your fingers are knotted in his hair.
"Anything else left in this process?" Frank mumbles against your lips. "Because I'm ready to get you to bed."
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Text
Badass || Bill Denbrough x Reader
Day 2 of Fictober
Pairing: Bill Denbrough x [gn] Reader
Requested: how about you do a bill x reader where the reader is a badass but still in the losers club???? just came up with it!!! btw love ya work and love ya!!!!
A//n: Aw thank you so much! That’s so sweet of you. Love you too darling, hope you like it 💛💛💛 and thanks for being so patient like the rest y'all 😘 [also i am in no way a badass so I’m sorry, I tried lol] edit: OKAY IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS, HOLY CRAP?? And again, i finished and pressed saved draft 30 SECONDS before midnight, so fight me this counts lol i just had to set up the title and tags and stuff on my computer before posting. anyways, thanks for waiting for this request, i hope you enjoy this, like i said, im actually surprised at how proud of this one i am!
Fictober Prompt: “that’s the easy part”
Warnings: Blood
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“ROCK WAR~!”
The next thing you knew, rocks were soaring across the stream straight for your head. Luckily for your skull, your reflexes were faster than you remembered and you managed to duck before a giant stone could knock you out.
And yet you still heard a thump?
You peek out from behind your arms, looking behind you to see Richie laying flat on his ass, his glasses askew. You winced before you caught sight of a giant rock near his foot and quickly made a grab for it.
Your glare stretches across the stream, settling on the leader of the bigoted pack. You kissed the rock as you met his eye, a devilish smirk stretching across your face as you wound up. Bowers was scrambling for ammo but you had already released. The rock found its target with a satisfying ‘thunk’ leaving Bowers on his ass clutching his bleeding nose. He pulls his hand away, gaping at the overwhelming amount of blood that had already painted his hand before locking eyes with you.
“KISS MY ASS, HENRY!” You hollered with a triumphant smile. “YOU TWISTED FUCK!”
“What the fuck?” Belch and Victor began scrambling back, looking around desperately for rocks of their own.
The Losers spared wide eyed glances your direction as they unleashed a storm of rocks on the now deeply unsettled Bowers gang. Bill was the only one who hesitated, his wide blue eyes frozen on you when you turned to give him a smirk. You had been looking for ammo and it seemed he had the perfect one. You cocked a brow, your devilish smirk still dominating your face as you gestured to the stone in his hand.
“You gonna use that, Billy Boy?”
You threw a few quick glances across the barrens making sure your weren’t gonna get hit. Luckily morale seemed to be growing scarce over there.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t completely gone.
“Ow,” Bill hissed, right hand clutching his left shoulder. “F-f-uck.”
Your head whipped around on your shoulders again to see Victor Criss’s upper lip twitching into a satisfied smile as he looked at Bill. You returned your attention to your boyfriend and the rock he held out for you.
“Let me,” you seethed.
You snatched the rock up, stomping forward with a wild glare in your eyes that was enough to intimidate the bleach blonde. Victor was already on his heels and running, but you weren’t letting him get away that easy. You threw with all your might and watched with pride as it soared through the air and hit him directly on the spine that was poking through his back. He cried out in pain as he fell to the ground, his chin meeting the very rock bed that fueled the fight.
“EAT SHIT,” You spit. “YOU LACKEY ASS FUCK!”
~~~~
“Turn it off!” Beverly cried. “TURN IT OFF!”
The projector in Bill’s garage had quickly turned into It’s stage as It put on a horrific display for you and the rest of your friends. What was just once pictures of Derry, suddenly turned into pictures of Bill’s family - you missed Georgie terribly, having grown so close with him the year before he died when you and Bill first got together. And now you were all staring death in the eyes as It manipulated the very air in the room around you. Every click of the projector put you on edge, the stroking effect and of course the child eating clown tormenting you all.
It was hard to process your own thoughts as they were quickly drowning in everyone’s screams and your own fears. You clutched Bill tightly to your side, your arms linked and your fingers stitched together. Everything was moving so incredibly fast it was near impossible to process until you realized you weren’t holding Bill’s hand anymore.
“Y-Y/n!” He cried, tugging at the back of your shirt before it slips from his grip. “Y/N!”
Mike had already unplugged the projector, that much you knew. But you were fucking desperate. You lunged for the projector, gripping it tightly as you held it high above your head. With a guttural scream, you threw it as hard as you possibly could into the cement floor. It broke instantly into several unidentifiable pieces, the room now completely dark and eerily silent.
Heaving, you finally look up to meet your friends faces. Each of them were gaping at you, an expression they seemed to always be wearing around you.
“Well,” you say finally. “I think it’s safe to say we found It.”
~~~~
“How hard is it,” you seethed, your voice growing in volume. “to NOT wander off? In a FUCKING HAUNTED HOUSE?!”
You took all your anger and fear out on the door Richie was being held in. Your elbows were practically glued to the surface while your fists and forearms repeatedly pounded on the door. First Eddie, now Richie. You swear, these idiots had to me smarter than this.
“Richie!” Bill joined your side, pounding on the door that had closed all on its own.
“RICHARD!” You pounded on the door again, your anger turning to pure fear that was now stinging your throat and eyes as tears began to well. “This is not fucking funny, open the goddamn door asshole!”
Your hand wraps around the doorknob again, and you shake the handle, jostling it around in hopes something will cave. When the door flew open, you didn’t know whether to chalk it up to luck, skill, or it was all still part of It’s torment but you didn’t care. Richie was alive, and tumbled into your and Bill’s grip.
“Richie!” You hugged the boy tightly, then pulled away with your signature glare. “WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!?”
“N-n-no t-time,” Bill says, looking between you and Richie with determination in his eyes. “L-let’s get outta here.”
A muted thump answered before you could. You, Richie and Bill all looked to the source of the noise to see the moth-eaten mattress from earlier was now shifting by itself. It looked as if it was filled with jumping beans. A melon sized lump grew in the center before the fabric split to reveal the disheveled and muddied up head of your friend.
He smiles at your twisted expressions. “Wanna play loogie?”
Your reflexes are faster than your thought process and you run forward. Just as a strange black goo starts to spill from fake Eddie’s mouth, your leg was swinging through the air. Your left foot connected with the left side of his jaw, narrowly missing the sizzling black ink and Eddie’s head popped off his body as you put it across the room.
It sails through the air, his greasy hair catching several cobwebs as it spins. Specks of the goo go flying landing on the walls and ceiling before the small head collides with a disturbing ‘thunk’.
“What the fuck?!”
“Holy shit,”
Eddie’s head lands in the far corner of the room where it rolls back and forth on his right ear before settling. He was groaning as if all the spinning had made him dizzy. The ooze of black goo came out even faster as if he were ralphing, and it was now pooling across the floor and inching towards their feed.
“Oh, that’s fucking GROSS!” Richie looks quickly to you. “And now you made him angry!”
“At least I did something!”
“Guys,” Bill pleads. “C-come on,”
The pool of black tar is spreading fast and you and Richie don’t have to think twice to listen to Bill. You all turn on your heel, only to find three doors instead of one.
Very Scary, Scary, and Not Scary At All.
Not Scary At All was the winner, Bill and Richie quickly decide. And despite your protest that it was all clearly a trick and the doors were misnomers, they opened the Not Scary At All.
“Where’s My Shoe?”
The light was turned on to reveal the severed body of Betty Ripsom and you had promptly decided you had had more than enough.
“WHERE THE FUCK WERE HER LEGS?!” Richie cried.
“I’ve got a guess but I’m not sticking around to find out.” You growled.
You cast a glance behind you to see the tar had eaten up most of the floor, giving you little room to do what you wanted. Luckily, you didn’t need much. You took a few steps back and looked at the door in the center, your eyes settling deep into the crimson letters spelling “scary.” You were certainly glad you realized when you did that unlike the door that held Richie hostage, this one could easily be broken down from where you stood.
You sighed. “I have to do everything.”
~~~~
“WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!”
Richie’s bat swung through the air and knocked the clown back. Pennywise quickly recovered and lunged for the nearest target with a disgusting growl. You quickly scrambled for a weapon as Mike stepped up to bat. He threw the fence iron rod at the monster but it was stopped midair when It’s jaw unhinged and out came several charred arms holding it in place. More and more reached out from inside It’s throat and made a grab at Mike who was fighting back the force of all the arms.
You never happier to have been too slow to save your friend when you saw Stanley pick up one of several spare iron rods off the ground. With a brave determination, he launched forward with a fierce battle cry as his torch came down on the branch of arms that now recoiled, saving Mike. It stumbled back, the charred arms slinking back into its mouth and disappearing and Pennywise stumbles again when Richie kicks It forward and away from him. Unfortunately that brought It right to Stanley.
“Stan, watch out!” Bill cries from your side.
But it’s too late, It’s head had already changed to the same horribly contorted lady that had you had already found attacking your friend. Only this time it was still wearing It’s clown suit, and it was racing straight for Stan.
“Stan!” You cried, already running forward after him only to stop second later.
Yet again Stanley roared, striking the clown across the face with the most furious look you had ever seen on him. Despite the horrifying circumstances, you were quite proud. You quickly fell back into line, ready to fight with the others and you smiled yet again when Mike followed up Stan’s strike with a devastating blow of his own.
The small moment of victory was soon cut short - a pattern you were currently getting used to - when a pair of red tentacles-turned-crab-claws pulled Mike to the ground.
“Mike!” Eddie shrieked.
Mike was able to barrel roll to safety as as It advanced on him. The end of each gigantic claw striking the earth and narrowly missing him and you and your friends quickly followed not knowing what to do. You couldn’t watch it anymore, and you hated yourself for what you were about to do but you knew you would simply never forgive yourself if you lost Mike, or any of your friends.
For what Bill wished was the first time of the summer, he felt you leave his side as you charged headlong into danger. Another guttural scream left you as you hurled yourself onto It’s back, your iron spike in front of It’s neck, both hands on either side of the rod and you pulled as hard as you could.
Pennywise’s disturbing, maniacal laughter grew even scarier, something you didn’t think was possible as he began to suffocate. You let yourself drop back down to the ground, your grip still tight on your weapon as you used your position to pull It down to the ground. It was still laughing through chocked breathes but it had done what you hoped, and stopped, Mike had gotten to safety with the Losers.
And for one glorious moment you felt indestructible. Until you saw it shift before you’re very eyes and your eyes widened, as did the eyes of your friends and Bill. It’s complete figure changed, starting with It’s head. You and the Losers no longer saw a painted lady, a mummy, a horrible memory, an abusive father, or even a late little brother. But they saw you, their friend Y/n, cowering and crying under the iron rod that pinned you to the ground by the neck.
“Please,” It whimpered, bottom lip quivering horribly. “Please don’t. I don’t wanna die.”
The real you was staring at the sight of yourself, the real fake you that you always tried so hard to push down. You knew it was Pennywise, but it was enough to make you choke completely. You were always so confident, and you were good at sticking up for yourself and the rest of the Losers. At least that’s all they ever saw, that’s all you ever let them see. Deep down you were terrified, and much more than that you were terrified that your own fear would get in the way of protecting your loved ones.
Like now.
“Y/n?” Bill’s soft voice called out to you, breaking you from your spell.
You look down at your blubbering face, tears streaking down your cheeks as you begged yourself for mercy. Several pleas leaving your lips when finally you pulled the rod back. Your eyelids flicker open, gazing back up at you and watch your every move cowering.
“Y/n?” Ben asks.
You don’t answer, you just straighten, your demon double cowering beneath you and it only angers you more to know none of this is It’s own fear. It was yours. It was mocking you.
Which was pretty stupid, considering you still had the spike.
You bare your teeth as you summon your strength, throwing the end of the spike into the ground, going right through your throat.
~~~~
You watched with head on Bill’s shoulder as another drop of blood from your palm fell onto the grass. You were trying to think about anything but the pain, and with everything you had faced this summer, you certainly had the pick of the litter.
“It feels different now,” you say, voice quiet. “And not just cause It’s gone, ya know?”
You even hate to let yourself believe that, but for the sake of your sanity and the chance of every getting another night’s sleep you’d have to believe it. And knowing Bill as long as you did, you know he felt it too.
You pick your head up off his shoulder and look to his gaze break away from the hills in the distance to meet your eyes. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, and you know for sure he’s thinking it too. Beverly was leaving for Portland, Stan said he heard whispers from his parents that they might be moving and that was all on top of the heavy weight of your guys’ trauma that had already begun to drain everyone.
“A-a-at least we-we’ve got each o-other,”
You smiled, nudging his shoulder with your own.
“Big sap,” you chuckled.
He smiled a little, enjoying the small moment between the two of you. But it disappears when his mind returns to image that had been replaying in his mind nonstop since Neibolt. The image of your cowering form that bothered you so much. He had never seen you - the real you, that was being confronted, that is - so distraught. He gulps, gathering his strength.
“W-what made you s-see that?” He asks.
You don’t answer for a long moment, and Bill fears he’s upset you. Or confused you, but he doubts that is the case. Finally, you look up at him, and lick your lips nervously.
“I’m scared Bill,” you croaked, heart pounding wildly at the admission. “I’m always worrying about you, I’m always worrying about Richie, Mike, Eddie, Stanley, Bev, and Ben. I’m always worried something is going to happen. I’m always scared something’s gonna happen to the ones I love, and I get scared that I’m not gonna be enough to protect them.”
You take a deep breath, swallowing all the air you lost in your unintentional rant. Somewhere during your confession, your gaze broke away from Bill’s gaze and now here you were afraid to even look him in the eye.
There’s another silence that Bill finally ends after a small thoughtful moment.
“It’s okay to be scared, Y/n,” he says, pulling your eyes to him. “I-I-It’s part of being h-human.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying your best to banish the image of your cowardly form from your mind. Suddenly the sting of your cut didn’t hurt so bad.
You looked back into Bill’s soft eyes, and shrugged.
“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”
He nudged you again with a charming smile.
“Well, y-you’re still a badass. Y-You’re always s-standing up for us,”
You chuckled weakly, sending him a smirk.
“That’s the easy part,” you say. “It’s looking out for myself that’s harder.”
“T-t-tell ya what?” You raise a brow at his sudden demeanor. “I’ll be t-the b-b-badass lookin out for you,”
You laughed, leaning in and giving him a lingering kiss that turned his cheeks absolutely scarlet.
You smiled when you saw this. “Thanks Billy Boy. Appreciate it. But I’d still like to work on myself a bit, ya know?”
He smiles again, this time triumphantly. “Deal.”
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idnek83 · 3 years
Text
By Your Side - chapter 2/3
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham
Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, No Game Spoilers, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Verbal and Physical Abuse, Homophobia, Other Tags To Be Added
Summary: The epilogue of Aid, in which Soda finally comes out to those around him, and accomplishes a goal he’s had ever since that fateful day in the beach house.
Chapter: 1, 2
Read on Ao3
This Chapter: Soda comes out to his father and things go about as poorly as one would expect. But maybe he hasn't lost nearly as much as he thinks.
Please mind the tags. This chapter contains non-graphic depictions of verbal and physical abuse. If you don’t want to read it but would like to know what happened, please read the summary in the ending notes on AO3
_____________________
Coming out to his friends had been so easy that he had almost convinced himself that coming out to his dad could be easy too.
It wasn’t that bad really, he only hit him a few times, he’d been beaten worse for breaking things in the garage.
He was glad he told Gundham not to come though.
“You’re already such a useless fuckin’ disappointment-”
Really, watching how Gundham would react to his father’s abuse would probably have been way harder to take.
“Now you ain’t even gonna have a kid and continue the family? Too busy suckin’ dick like a disgusting-”
At this point his dad was pretty much just repeating himself. Earlier, Soda had tried to appease his father by pointing out that he was actually still interested in women, so technically he might still have a kid someday.
But his father wasn’t listening, so he gave up.
He didn’t really want kids anyways.
He was too scared he’d end up like his dad.
“-outta my house before I throw you out!”
Oh, that was new. He probably should have been listening better. He really was useless.
“What?”
“I said you best get your ass outta my house real quick, or I’m gonna throw ya out, and don’t even think ‘bout coming back unless you’re ready to put this gay shit behind you.”
His father’s entire face was red, a few ugly veins stood out on his forehead, and he looked cartoonishly angry.
Soda couldn’t help but think it was almost funny.
“Can I, um, can I grab some of my stuff first?”
Soda wasn’t really sure how he was acting so calm, it always happened when things with his dad got really bad. Calm didn’t stop his father from hitting him, but it usually stopped him from hitting harder.
His father’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed in a way Soda had learned meant he should start preparing to be hit again, but to his surprise his father just turned and stormed away after mumbling “Ya got 15 fucking minutes,” followed by a string of insults Soda knew were supposed to be hurtful, but hardly affected him anymore.
It’s hard to feel rain drops when you’re already soaked.
He walked to his room an sat on the bed.
He just stared.
What was he supposed to do? Pack? Most his stuff was already in his dorm at Hope’s Peak. Why had he asked to get his stuff when there wasn’t even anything important here?
He looked vacantly around his room.
It was pretty sparse. Just some dirty clothes thrown around on old worn-out furniture. There was a picture of him and his dad on the nightstand.
Maybe he should take that? People always take photos with them in movies and shit, so that’s probably what he’s supposed to do, right?
He threw it out the window instead.
It probably should have made him feel something, but he just felt numb.
He grabbed a pillowcase and stared filling it with his clothes and some of the random junk he had sitting around, not really paying attention to what he was doing.
Was this the last time he would ever be in this room? In this house?
The thought made him freeze.
He was about to lose the only home he’d ever had.
He swallowed a lump in his throat and laid down on his bed, tried to remember the feeling of it and the image of his ceiling.
It was stupid, but he felt like he would miss staring at that ceiling, suddenly every little bump and scratch felt like an important part of who he was. He had stared at it his whole life and now he just… wouldn’t be able to ever again.
He felt like he was upset about the wrong thing, but he couldn’t stop the tears from coming to his eyes anyway.
He was definitely going to miss that ceiling.
There was a knock at the door.
Shit, had it been 15 minutes already?
He stood and grabbed his sack of stuff, wiped his face, and opened the door to his room for what was probably the last time.
No one was there.
He checked his phone to see if his time was actually up, maybe he was just hearing things.
He had 12 missed calls from Gundham and twice as many unanswered texts.
There was another knock at the door.
Not his room door.
The front door.
Oh god, no.
He ran to the front door and pulled it open. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Gundham standing there looking both incredibly concerned and incredibly angry.
He was surprised when he didn’t immediately shove both himself and his boyfriend out the door like he had been planning to though.
Something about seeing Gundham just then, seeing the man he felt so safe around right as he was losing his home broke him, and instead of pushing Gundham back and away from the building like he should, he wrapped his arms around him and choked a sob into his chest.
Gundham held him tightly, and for a moment Soda didn’t feel so lost.
And then his dad found them.
“And this is the fucking guy? Really went with the fruitiest fucker you could, huh? Couldn’t pick one that at least looks like a girl could ya, ya little-”
He couldn’t take it if his father and Gundham started fighting. He needed to leave. Now.
He tried to nudge Gundham back, but Gundham just held him tighter.
“Cease your barking, foul beast.”
No.
Gundham shifted, partially shielding Soda from his father. He was definitely getting ready to fight.
No no no.
“I will not allow you to-”
The venom in Gundham’s raised voice sent a chill down Soda’s spine that he wished wasn’t so familiar.
He needed to stop this before it got bad, before he started fearing Gundham’s voice the same way he feared his father’s.
“Gundham, please, don’t.”
It was quiet, pathetic, and mumbled into Gundham’s chest. If his father had heard it he would have laughed and mocked him more, there’s not way it would have stopped him.
But it stopped Gundham.
He felt Gundham tense for a moment, before stroking Soda’s hair and muttering an apology against his temple. It was the exact kind of tender comfort Soda had never dared dream of receiving during one of his father’s episodes.
It made him cling to Gundham harder.
Yeah, his dad really didn’t appreciate that.
Soda was pretty sure Gundham was literally biting his tongue as the two of them walked away from the house, trailed by every insult and threat his father could think to utter. Only once they made it to the sidewalk did Gundham pause and look back. Soda could see him seething, knew Gundham needed to say something, and just pressed his head against Gundham’s shoulder, allowing him to finally speak up.
He didn’t have the energy to stop him anyways.
Gundham locked eyes with Soda’s father and tightened his arm protectively around Soda’s back.
He just hoped Gundham wouldn’t yell again.
“May you one day find enough love to know your actions were wrong.”
It was hardly any louder than Gundham’s usual speaking voice, but the moment of silence that followed it told Soda that his father had indeed heard it.
The renewed vigor of his threats after, however, told him his father didn’t care for the words.
Soda wasn’t 100% sure how they got back to campus.
He vaguely remembers being on a bus and hiding his face against Gundham’s neck, doing his best not to cry in public.
He didn’t need more people seeing how pathetic he was.
He remembers the warmth of Gundham’s hand on his back and the soothing sound of his voice, though he can’t really remember anything he said.
He was so useless he couldn’t even pay attention when someone was trying to comfort him.
It wasn’t until they were walking through the doors of their dorm building that he really felt like he was able to focus again. Something about being in a familiar place just made his mind come back from… wherever it had been.
The first thing he noticed was that he didn’t have the pillowcase he had shoved all his shit in.
He didn’t have the pillowcase.
His heartbeat picked up.
He didn’t have his stuff.
He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
He didn’t have a house,
His knees buckled.
He didn’t have a home.
He fell. He felt sick. He felt like he was dying.
Gundham was saying something. He couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything but his own too loud heartbeat and his brain’s assurance that he had lost everything and that he might as well just die.
Suddenly he was being carried. He wanted to protest but he couldn’t catch his breath, so he just gasped and choked pathetically in Gundham’s arms until he was slowly lowered onto a bed.
His bed.
His bed in his dorm room, covered in his dirty clothes and his unwashed blankets.
Soda gripped the sheets, his sheets, and something about it made the knot in his chest loosen.
He could breathe again.
He opened his eyes, unsure when he had closed them, and looked down at Gundham, who was crouched down before him holding his limp hands in his own.
A small smile graced Gundham’s face when Soda met his eyes.
“Have you returned to me, my love?”
Soda’s mouth felt dry, so he just nodded.
Gundham stood, slowly, the same way Soda knew he would around a frightened animal, and lifted one of Soda’s hands to gently press his lips to his knuckles.
“Do you keep ice in your fridge, dear consort?”
The question felt bizarre. Ice? Was this an overlord thing? He really wasn’t in the mood for that crap…
He managed to choke out a confused “Huh?”
“Ice, my dearest, is there any in your fridge? We must treat your wounds.”
Soda blinked slowly, waiting for his mind to process what was happening.
His wounds?
Oh.
He must have a blackeye.
“Oh, yeah, I’ll get it.”
When he stood Gundham moved as if to stop him, and he felt anger bubble up in his stomach.
“I said I’ll fucking get it! I’m not that fucking useless!”
He regretted it the second he finished speaking. Gundham’s shocked face hurt him more than anything else that night had.
In his mind his raised voice echoed and distorted until he couldn’t tell it from his father’s.
He was on his knees again, sobbing an apology, as gentle arms slowly wrapped around him and a deep voice offered forgiveness he didn’t deserve.
They must have been close enough to his minifridge for Gundham to reach it, as he suddenly felt something cold being lightly pressed into his hands.
It was an icepack he nearly forgot he owned, Mikan had handed them out to everyone in class on a particularly hot day that summer.
He pressed it to his eye, only then did he notice the dull throbbing pain of it.
He let himself fall forward into Gundham’s chest again.
“‘m sorry.” He mumbled again.
“My beloved consort, I can hardly imagine the pain you are feeling at this moment.” A soft kiss to his forehead. “I will remain by your side as you fight the demons which plague you, however unpleasant they may be.”
The words struck fear in Soda’s heart.
“No.”
“My dear?”
“I don’t want that, Gundham.” He took a shaky breath “I don’t want you to be with me if I’m treating you like shit. I don’t care if I’m hurt or whatever, if I treat you like shit you leave, okay?”
“It’s understandable that-”
“No. Gundham, please, I just-” another shaky breath as he pulled far enough away from Gundham that he could meet his eyes “- I don’t want to end up like him, okay? So you can’t… you can’t just let me get away with this shit. E-even when I’m upset.”
Gundham took a moment to consider his words, looking unconvinced.
“Please Gundham. I couldn’t… I couldn’t take it if I hurt you.”
Gundham stroked his cheek and finally nodded.
“Then I will do my best to keep your behavior in check, and in return I will ask only one thing.”
Soda smiled and cocked his head.
“Yeah?”
“You must be kind to yourself as well, dearest.”
It caught him off-guard.
“You have made a habit of speaking of yourself in a depreciating manner. I will not allow you to speak to me in such a way, and I will not allow you to speak to yourself in such a way either.” Gundham smiled and cupped Soda’s chin. “You are the consort of the great Overlord of Ice, my love, all must treat you with respect.”
Soda couldn’t help but laugh a little. It made his face hurt even worse, but it was worth it.
Gundham pulled him close again and quietly chuckled along with him.
Eventually they stood, and Soda looked around his room until he found a mostly clean face cloth to wrap the icepack in, before pressing it back to his swollen eye.
Gundham simply stood in the middle of the room, seemingly uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
“Um, Gundham? What’s, uh, what’s up?” Gundham looking nervous made Soda feel nervous, it was just too unlike him.
“I am… simply unsure if I should stay.”
“Huh?”
Gundham hadn’t once hesitated to spend the night in Soda’s room since they had returned from their vacation.
“I would be happy to stay with you this night, my dear consort, but…you have gone through so much so quickly, I would understand if you wished to have some time alone, or simply some time away from me, as I am .”
Soda was about to protest, of course he wanted Gundham around right now, having the person you love around in a crisis was like the number one thing you were supposed to want, right?
But the more he thought about it the more he realized Gundham had a point. Maybe he felt calm for the moment, but he was sure he’d have another outburst soon, and as much as he appreciated Gundham’s comfort and reassurance, sometimes a guy really just needs to let himself have a good long ugly cry in private, just to get it all out.
“Actually, yeah… I think, um, I think maybe I’ll sleep alone tonight? If that’s alright?”
“Of course it is alright, dearest.”
Gundham smiled for a second before it faltered.
“But please, do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything, my love. Truly anything, big or small, I will do my best to accommodate you.”
Soda smiled a little but could already feel his emotions welling up again at Gundham’s hesitance.
“I will, Gundham. Or? I won’t I guess? Uh, I mean, I’ll text you if I need anything, okay? Just, uh, try not to worry about me to much for now, alright? I’ll… be okay.”
He’d probably be okay, right?
“Of course, I’ll do my best.” Gundham moved to the door as Soda opened it, turning back as he walked through it. “I love you, my dear Soda.”
Soda felt his throat tightening again.
“L-love you too, Gundham.” Maybe it was a little choked, maybe he closed the door a little too fast, but maybe he just didn’t want Gundham to have to deal with any more of his crying that night.
He waited a moment for Gundham’s shadow to disappear from below the door, before once again sliding to his knees.
He expected to sob, the way he had before, but to his surprise he just breathed out a few more shaky breaths.
Maybe he had had enough of his own crying for one night too.
Maybe he just needed another minute.
He decided he might as well get ready for bed. He looked around his room for some cleanish pajamas and found a shirt Gundham had forgotten at some point. It passed the sniff test, smelling only mildly like BO but mostly like Gundham, so he threw it on along with some loose shorts he was mostly certain he had only slept in a few times that week.
He still didn’t feel like crying.
Soda sat on his bed and pulled out his phone, maybe he should just ask Gundham to come back if he wasn’t going to have another breakdown…
He felt guilty when he saw all the still unread messages from Gundham, but he’d deal with those later. For now, he was more interested in some of the other texts he had.
He had told most his friends that he was planning to come out to his father today, so there were a decent number of texts asking how things went.
As he scrolled through his various messages he began to feel guilty, many of his classmates had not only asked how things went but had followed up a while later with concerned messages. Fuyuhiko had even threatened to send some of “his guys” to Soda’s house - to Soda’s Father’s house -  if he didn’t respond soon.
Luckily it seemed like Gundham had done some damage control while Soda had been out of it, as there were also a few messages saying things like “Gundham says you’re safe, but I’m here to talk if you need it!” and offering various words of support and love.
So, turns out he wasn’t done crying.
What had he done to deserve such good friends? He was just a stupid fuck-up and yet there were so many people ruining their nights by worrying about him. The worst part was he couldn’t even find the energy to respond to them. These people were making the effort to try to reach out to him and he couldn’t even do them the courtesy of responding.
His dad was right, he was useless.
He opened the rest of his messages without reading them, just to clear the notifications, then fell face first onto his pillow and tried not to sob. His throat was starting to feel sore, and all the crying really wasn’t helping.
His phone vibrated and he ignored it.
It vibrated again.
And again.
And again.
He grabbed it to put it on silent, but the most recent message caught his eye.
I swear dude if you don’t respond in the next five minute I’m coming back and kicking your ass.
It was Hajime. He and Nagito had decided to go camping for the weekend, and he had been pretty upset when Soda had told him he was going to talk to his dad while Hajime was out of town. Soda had insisted it would be fine and that Hajime should still go, and Hajime had only agreed on the condition that Soda would keep him updated with how things went.
Something he very much did not do.
He shot off a quick “I’m fine,” and almost immediately after he hit send his phone began ringing.
The bastard had tricked him, he couldn’t say he hadn’t noticed Hajime calling now.
He sighed and answered his phone.
“Yeah?” His voice was kind of scratchy, but he didn’t think he sounded like he was crying at least.
To his surprise, instead of the snarky response he had been expecting, he simply heard a relieved sigh and a slightly distant sounding “He’s okay,” before a louder “You had me really worried man.”
Soda choked back another sob. Hajime sounded so genuinely relieved, he could only imagine how worried he must have been.
And he had been planning on just letting him worry…
God he was an asshole.
“I…” Soda really didn’t know what to say.
“It’s okay, I heard from Gundham so I know I should have just dropped it but… I dunno, man, I just really needed to hear your voice I guess? Like to be sure you’re alive?”
Soda let out a deep, shaky breath. He knew Hajime would be able to hear it over the phone, but he needed to calm himself down.
“S-sorry Haj. I shoulda just texted you. It’s my fault for being such a fuck up.”
“Soda, shut the fuck up right now or I actually am going to come back there and kick your ass. You’re not a fuck up, your dad’s a piece of shit, and you 100% are not allowed to feel shitty about not responding to people while you’re in the middle of a fucking crisis, got it?”
Soda froze before laughing at Hajime’s outburst.
“Weren’t you the one g-getting mad at me for not responding, d-dude?” He did his best to keep his voice light, but he couldn’t quite manage it.
“Yeah I know, I shouldn’t have. I probably just made you feel worse, huh?”
Soda paused for a moment.
“Yes and no?”
“What’s that supposed to mean, dude?”
“L-like… yeah seeing your messages and shit made me feel… really shitty, but… now that we’re talking I feel… I dunno, man, just... less shitty?”
There was a quick burst of static that Soda assumed must have been an amused huff from Hajime.
“Soda?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you, man, okay? Don’t forget that.”
Tears welled up in his eyes and he had to swallow around a lump in his throat before responding.
“I love you too, Haj…”
There was a brief pause, both of them feeling a little awkward about being so open, but enjoying the feeling none the less, then-
“No homo.”
They said it at the same time.
Soda’s body shook with laughter, he could hear Hajime howling on the other end of the call and could just barely make out Nagito asking what was so funny in the background. His face hurt so bad, but he couldn’t really make himself care just then.
When their laughter died down Soda sighed.
“Thanks for this, Haj. I… I think I really needed to hear some of that shit…”
“Anytime, Soda.”
There was a brief pause and Soda knew Hajime was debating whether he should end the call or not.
He didn’t want to cut into Hajime’s camping date for too long, so he made the choice for him.
“Anyways, I’m feeling pretty tired, so I’m gonna head to bed now.”
“Okay, man, just… call me if you need to talk more, okay?”
“And risk catching you while you’re in the bone zone? No thanks, dude.”
“First off, never call it that again, second, I’m serious, Soda, call me.”
“Yeah, yeah, dude.”
“Soda.”
“I will. I promise! If I need to talk I’ll call you, even if I think you’re probably fucking, okay? Happy?”
“Yes. Now get some sleep.”
“Okay, mom. Good night.”
Soda heard Hajime’s faint chuckle as he hung-up, and found himself genuinely smiling for what felt like the first time that night.
Sure, maybe him and Hajime weren’t great at actually talking about heavy shit with each other without making it all into some kind of joke, but maybe jokes were the exact kind of thing he needed right then.
Jokes and something to fucking drink.
All the crying he had done that night had really killed his throat, and while the laughing had felt better, it had still just made him that much more aware of how dry his mouth was.
His phone buzzed as he stood to look for a drink. He picked it up expecting to find some snarky message from Hajime, only to see Sonia’s name on his screen instead.
Hello Soda, I do not mean to bother you, but I have made too much tea, and was wondering if you would like some.
Soda smiled at the message. ‘Made too much tea,’ as if Sonia wasn’t a master when it came to all things tea related.
I can leave some at your door if you are not in the mood to chat! I don’t mind!
Was he in the mood to chat? Talking with Hajime had been great, exactly what he needed probably, but would talking with Sonia be the same?
Their relationship had significantly improved over the past few months, the two of them would even sometimes hangout without Gundham around now, but they had never really talked about serious stuff before, they always just kept things light.
But he could really go for some tea, and maybe letting someone other than Gundham see that he was alive and in one piece would help him stop feeling so guilty about ignoring his friends.
Tea sounds good, thanks. I wouldn’t mind a quick chat either.
Great! I’ll be right over! ヾ(^▽^*)
Less than a minute passed before Soda heard light footsteps coming down the hall. He did his best to throw most of the dirty clothes scattered around into the laundry basket and hide some of the clutter before Sonia made it to his door.
“Soda? It’s me, I’d knock but my hands are full.”
“Be right there.” He lanced around his room and deemed it acceptable before pressing his icepack back against his eye and opening the door.
Sonia smiled brightly at him, and he pretended not to notice the way her smile faltered when she first registered the icepack as he invited her in.
There was a small, low table in the middle of the room and Soda gestured for Sonia to set the tea down there. They both sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, maybe this had been a bad idea after all, Soda wasn’t really in the mood to stumble through an awkward conversation right now.
Sonia reached for a cup at the same moment Soda did, and the strange mirrored movement caused them both to giggle a little, breaking some of the tension.
“I am sorry for coming over like this, I admit I simply wanted to check that you were okay and didn’t prepare a topic for conversations.”
“It’s alright, Sonia. I mean, I kind of knew, you never mess up tea.” Soda smiled at her as best he could while holding the icepack to his eye.
“I apologize for being deceitful.” She smiled back. “I simply couldn’t think of-”
Soda shifted the icepack in his hand, pulling it back from his face to readjust the cloth wrapped around it, only for Sonia to abruptly stop talking and cover her mouth.
Oh right, his eye probably looked pretty messed up right now.
He covered it back up quickly.
“Sorry Sonia, it’s-”
Sonia stood, and Soda assumed she was about to excuse herself, but instead she stepped around the table, knelt beside him, and pulled him into one of the tightest hugs he had ever experienced.
“I’m so sorry Soda. You d-don’t deserve any of this.” Was she… crying? “Your… the man who did this doesn’t deserve you as a son.” He could hear it for sure now, she was definitely crying. The lump in his throat came back in full force, and he had to fight not to sob along with her.
“S-Sonia, it’s alright, d-don’t cry…” God now he was crying.
“It’s not alright!” She yelled and pulled him further against her. Soda hid his face against her shoulder. “It’s really not alright, Soda…”
Sonia rubbed Soda’s back gently with one hand, while stroking his hair and keeping him close with the other, while he sobbed against her and did his best not to get any snot on her clothes.
She was soft and warm and comforting, and he couldn’t help but remember being held in much the same way by his mother, years ago before she had passed.
It made him sob harder, but Sonia just kept holding him.
They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other and crying together while their tea got cold.
Eventually, after they had both calmed down a little, Sonia released him, shifting her hand from Soda’s head and back to hold his free hand instead.
“Soda, I…” she looked up, into his good eye, “I think you’re very brave.”
He couldn’t help but blush.
“N-not really, I mean I was pretty scared…”
“But you are!” Sonia lifted his hand and clasped it between her own, holding it between her chest and his. “I don’t believe I would ever have been able to speak to my parents of my preferences had I not know before hand that they would be supportive! But you did! I think that makes you extremely brave!”
He didn’t feel brave, but maybe she had a point…
Wait.
“Your preferences?”
Sonia blinked and tilted her head.
“Gundham didn’t tell you?”
“N-no?” Wait, was the girl he had spent so long being creepily obsessed with not even into guys to begin with? “Sonia, are you, uh, not into dudes?”
“Oh, no I am, but I like women as well.” She blushed a little, but smiled. “I believe we are the same in that regard, correct?”
He just nodded.
Damn, first Hajime and now Sonia? He really needed to stop assuming all his friends were straight.
“But, uh, doesn’t that get complicated? Like with you being a princess and all?”
Why the fuck had he said that. That was like the opposite of the right thing to say.
He was definitely 2 for 2 with fucking up when his friends came out to him.
“Oh, a little. I am expected to produce an heir one day, but there are ways to do that even if my partner and I are not able to do so on our own.”
“Ah, right, that makes sense.”
Soda nodded and decided to chug his cold tea to stop himself from saying anything else dumb.
Sonia visibly cringed as he drank but didn’t stop him.
“You know I don’t mind making you some more, Soda.” She spoke as he lowered his now empty cup.
“N-no thanks, it’s good. Even cold it tastes fine.” He did his best to smile convincingly.
Sonia quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, instead smoothing out her skirt and giving her own cold cup of tea a disdainful look.
There was another slightly awkward silence before she stood once more.
“Then I think… If you would not like any more tea, I shall leave and allow you to rest for the night.”
“Ah, yeah. Thank you… for the tea and… thank you.” Soda stood as he spoke, and Sonia reached out to squeeze his hand once more before gathering her things and heading for the door.
“Good night Soda, sleep well!”
“You too, Sonia.”
“Oh, and…” Sonia smiled and paused for a moment, flicking he eyes down to Soda’s chest. “You look very good in that shirt. It’s cute on you.”
With that she left, letting Soda close the door behind her.
His shirt is cute? What shirt was he even wearing?
He looked down.
He felt his whole face heat with embarrassment as he remembered he had thrown on one of Gundham’s shirts earlier.
Oh.
“It looks cute on you.”
So Sonia had definitely recognized it.
He covered his face with both hands and laughed at himself. Why was he even this embarrassed? Sonia had been one of the first people to know him and Gundham were dating. He was just being dumb.
He pulled the shirt up to his nose and inhaled, smiling.
He was pretty sure he knew the exact night the shirt had ended up in his room. They had both been a little drunk and giggly, happy in each other’s arms as they had collapsed onto Soda’s bed.
Soda’s heart throbbed at the memory.
He wanted to see Gundham.
It had gotten pretty late though, maybe sending a text first would be a good idea.
Soda picked up his phone and clicked on Gundham’s name to open the messaging tab, pausing once he did.
Three little dots appeared at the bottom of the conversation, then disappeared, then appeared again.
Soda waited, but a message never came through.
Was Gundham… unsure? Soda watched the dots and imagined his boyfriend typing and erasing messages, unsure what to say or even if he should say anything, and the thought made him smile.
He decided to put Gundham out of his misery.
I’m coming over. Let’s watch a movie
He grabbed a random movie off his shelf, he didn’t really care what they watched. His phone buzzed, then buzzed again.
Dearest, I know you need space right now, but I just wanted to remind you that I love you and that you may call on me for anyt
Ignore that! I did not mean to send it!
I am happy to hear you are coming to my abode, my consort, I will ensure it is ready for you.
So he really had been sitting there trying to come up with the perfect message to send Soda, huh?
God, Gundham was such a dork.
Soda loved him for it.
He wasn’t really sure what time it was. Movie credits were scrolling across the little TV screen on the other side of the room, playing gentle music over Gundham’s quiet snores.
Soda rolled himself over, leaving his head on Gundham’s chest but shifting from his side to his back, and stared at the ceiling.
He had spent a good many nights in this room over the past few months, but the ceiling wasn’t familiar the way the one back in his father’s house had been. He didn’t think he’d cry if he never saw this one again.
Gundham grunted in his sleep and wrapped an arm around Soda’s back.
But he’d cry if he never got to see Gundham again. Or Sonia, or Hajime, or any of his friends. Even Nagito.
He’d cry if he lost them, he’d cry if they got hurt, and he’d cry if they cried.
Because he loved them.
Because they loved him.
Because even if he had lost the home he had known all his life, many of his own possessions, and even the man he had called father, he realized he hadn’t lost everything.
His home was with Hajime, while they laughed and made jokes at each other’s expense.
His home was with Sonia, making polite conversation and sipping tea so good he could hardly believe it was store bought.
His home was here, in Gundham’s arms late at night, feeling safe and secure even as his whole world was being turned on its head.
His home was with the people he loved.
All he had lost that night was a house.
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impalas-r-important · 3 years
Text
Love of my Life - (6) How it all started
Summary: This is the story of how Dean and Y/N met.
Warnings: Some show level violence. Dean being a sap.
A/N: Okay, we're hitting rewind to delve into some back story before we continue on any further. I loved writing these next few chapters about how Dean and Y/N met. This is set just weeks after Dean returns from hell in S4. The italics are Dean's thoughts. Let me know if you'd like a tag for the rest of the series. Thanks for all the love!
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DEAN'S POV
Sam and I were in over our heads and we knew it. What was supposed to be a small nest of vamps ended up being a whole house full. The first few we took care of easily, then they started coming out of the woodwork. Left and right, up and down, they were everywhere. So, we did what we always did; we went to work. Heads were rolling, blood was spattering, fangs were flying, but I was backed into a corner with 3 of them closing in on me and Sam had his own problems. He was on the floor, trying desperately to back away from two onrushing blood suckers. Both of us weaponless, we exchanged looks as if to say goodbye, and I prepared myself to fight for my life.
I raised my bloodied fists, staring straight into the eyes of the monster who would surely kill me. He took half a step forward before stopping dead in his tracks as a quick flash of a blade sliced through his neck so smoothly that his head stayed balanced for a moment before slipping off to the ground with his body following suit. I didn’t have even have enough time to feel shocked when the remaining two vamps who were cornering me met the same fate. What the hell? I thought to myself. I looked up to gauge the situation when I saw her. Long Y/H/C hair danced through the room, swiftly flowing as she expertly beheaded pests left and right, a machete in each hand.
“You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?” She yelled as she slid one of her blades over to me. I picked it up and joined back in the fight. She had already taken care of the vampires after Sam and he was by her side, picking them off quickly. I took care of another three, leaving just two left who were quickly retreating and too far away for us to catch them on foot. The strays had almost made it to the door when I saw the mystery hunter throw her machete, nailing one square in the back. She then grabbed my knife from my hand, flinging it at the other, leaving both of them lying on the ground. Two bullseyes. Damn.
Sam and I jogged over to them, pulled the blades from their backs and, in unison, sliced their heads off. Chests heaving, we looked up at each other, then over to the new girl who was wiping blood from her machete on the jacket of one of the victims.
“Bleh.” I heard her mutter to herself as she casually kicked a severed head from her path and walked over to us.
“Sam and Dean, right?” She asked.
Sam and I, both still shaking off the shock, hesitated to answer. Sam cut the silence. “Uhm, not to sound ungrateful, but who are you?”
“Your new favorite person.” She gave a teasing side smile. “I’m Y/N. Bobby Singer called me and asked if I could check in on you boys. He said something about you having your heads too far up your asses to ask for help.”
I got lost in her eyes when she looked at me and my heart was beating so heavily that I felt my legs shake with every thump. I could only hope she and Sam couldn’t hear it beating. Sam noticed my dreamy state and hit my side, pulling me from the trance. I cleared my throat and desperately searched for the words to invite her to stick around for the rest of the night. I had to get to know her. A million phrases ran thought my mind, but all that managed to slip from my mouth was, “We have a shower.”
Sam dramatically turned his head and looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out my ears. Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded a little. “Okay. Good for you?” She replied, clearly confused.
“Oh, no, I just…. I, uh…” I stammered. Sam quickly interrupted me. Thank goodness.
“I think what my brother is trying to say is that you are welcome to come back to our motel and clean up if you want.”
“I actually have a room not too far off from here, but I appreciate the offer.”
Crap. Say something, Dean! Don’t just let her go.
“Well can we at least meet up with you and buy you dinner? We owe you that.” I, too eagerly, counter-offered, just relieved that I spoke in full sentences.
“Okay, yeah that sounds good. Let me go get this blood washed off first though.” Y/N agreed.
“Great, meet us at that old timey diner on main street at five.” Sam added.
“See you then, boys.” Y/N looked between the two of us and smiled.
“It’s a date!” The words flew out of my mouth before I even thought about them twice. “Well, not an actual date, but you know…” I rubbed the back of my neck and grimaced at my own stupid self. Y/N gave a small laugh and sent a wink my way before leaving.
Sam waited until the door was closing behind Y/N before he turned to me. “Dude... We have a shower?” He mocked, clearly trying to suppress his laughter, which escaped in a snort anyway. “You’ve got it bad!”
“I do not!” I tried to fight, but I knew I was lying to myself. Right now, I should be feeling lucky that we didn’t die a horrible death, but all I could think of were Y/N’s deep eyes, brilliant smile and that wink she sent my way. Damn, that wink. “Shut up. Let’s get outta here.”
Sam’s laughter continued all the way back to the motel. He was having way too much fun reenacting the “lost puppy” look on my face.
Sam was in the shower and I walked over to the mirror hanging above the desk and gave myself an internal pep talk.
You are Dean freaking Winchester. Girls don’t scare you and you will not be an idiot tonight!
I gave myself a reassuring nod then reminded Sam to hurry so I could wash all the vampire gunk off of me.
We pulled into the diner just before five and the waitress seated us. The minutes seemed to drag on and I couldn’t help but check my watch every few seconds.
“Dude, relax. I can feel your anxiety from across the table.” Sam said, not picking his eyes up from his menu. I sent him a glare and began to read down the list of food they had here. The bell at the door dinged, signaling someone had entered and my eyes shot up. There was Y/N, dressed in blue jeans and a plain white shirt. How could she be so beautiful in something so casual? She looked around and I waved my hand at her, my heart singing the second she saw me. I was mesmerized by her doing something so simple as just walking over to us at the table.
“You two clean up nice.” She greeted. Sam had purposely sat in the middle of his side of the booth with our coats on either side of him so she wouldn’t have any choice but to sit by me. You would have thought I had just finished running a marathon with how fast my heart was beating.
“So,” she picked up her menu and glanced over it, “you guys been here before? What’s good?”
Sam answered first. “We got some take out last night. The grilled chicken salad is pretty good.”
“Nah, come on. We’re celebrating! I don’t know about you guys, but seventeen vamps inside an hour is a personal record. You can’t celebrate properly with salad.”
I tried my best to hide my smile at her comment.
“My go to is always a cheeseburger of some kind. Preferably with bacon.” I added.
“Mmm, you know what? Bacon does sound good. I’ll go for the BLT.” She smiled and shut her menu, placing it on the edge of the table. Man, this girl just keeps getting better. “So, I’ve gotta admit, I never thought that the first time I’d be meeting the famous Winchesters would be me saving your asses.”
“You’ve heard of us?” I ask, trying my hardest not to stare too much.
“Are you kidding? Everyone in the hunting community knows who you two are. Plus, Bobby loves you boys more than he’d ever admit.”
“I remember Bobby talking about you, too.” Sam joined in. “He said he loved you like a daughter, but he never sent us out on cases with you because he didn’t want us to ruin you.”
“Hah! Yeah, that sounds like Bobby.” Her smile absolutely lit up the small diner. “He told me he didn’t want me ever getting involved with you boys because you were bad influences. Well, mostly just Dean actually.” She looked at me and added, “Bobby said you’re too much of a womanizer for me to be around.”
I didn’t want her to think that I was interested in her just to use her. My soul wanted to get to know hers.
“I used to be.” I admitted. “Not so much anymore.”
“What changed?” Y/N asked.
“I guess going to hell and coming back really changes a guy.” I laughed.
“Fair enough.” Every time Y/N looks at me, I get a rush of adrenaline. I’m trying my hardest not to blush when the waitress comes over to take our orders.
Dinner was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. We exchanged hunting stories and talked about our lives a lot. Y/N’s family had died when she was little, and she bounced around between Bobby and a few other hunters who helped raise her. She seems to be the most put together person for having a past like that.
Y/N excused herself to use the bathroom and Sam made his move. “Alright, Dean, I’m going to head back to the motel. You good to walk?”
“What? Why?”
“I’m going to give you two some time to yourselves. Tell her I was just tired from the hunt and wanted to head back.”
I give him a suspicious look, but I’m actually more than happy I get some one-on-one time with Y/N.
“Oh, and don’t sleep with her. Bobby will send you straight back to hell.” Sam added with a hard pat on the back as he takes the keys from me and heads out the door.
Y/N comes back and asks where Sam went.
“Oh, he’s kind of a party pooper. He went back to the motel for some shut eye. You don’t mind if I keep you company, do you?”
“I’d like that.” A shy smile crept up on her face.
“So, we’re celebrating. How about some dessert?”
“Hell yes. You are speaking my language. I have the world’s biggest sweet tooth.”
“What are you in the mood for? I guess you get to pick since you saved my ass.” I was obviously hoping she’d choose pie.
“Anything chocolate.”
“Hmmm,” I look over the small menu off to the side of the table, “chocolate cream pie? I love me some pie.”
“Perfect!” She waived the waitress over and order a whole pie. A girl after my own heart.
A few minutes later, a beautiful, massive pie is set down on our table with two forks and we dive in. I ate my fair share, but Y/N polished most of that thing off.
“I’m impressed.” I sit back and rub my full stomach as I look at her finishing the last few bites of the pie. “I’ve never seen any girl eat that much.”
She shrugged. “I love chocolate. Plus, hunting makes me hungry.”
I can’t help but admire her every movement. She’s so kind and graceful, and her hair falls so perfectly around her shoulders. I can’t find one flaw and I know I’m in trouble. She catches me staring at her a few moments too long, but I shake off the embarrassment and keep the conversation flowing, not wanting this night to end. We talked for hours about anything and everything. Dreams, hopes, fears, music, food, family, and before I know it, the waitress is telling us that we have to leave because they are closing. My heart drops because I just can’t get enough of this girl. Everything in me was so drawn to her.
I open the door for her, and the slight breeze is just cold enough to give her goosebumps. Immediately I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, holding it up enough to let her arms slide in.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
“Don’t thank me, I’m only standing here right now because you saved my life.” We stand silent for a few seconds just looking at each other before she breaks the stare and reaches into her pocket, pulling out her car keys.
“Well, let me at least give you a ride back to your motel. It’s too cold out here for you to be walking.”
It wasn’t too cold, but I wouldn’t turn down that offer in a million years.
“You mind driving? I’m pretty sleepy.” She held her keys out to me. Something about the way she said “sleepy” and looked up at me while drowning in my jacket made me go crazy. I hadn’t known this girl for even 12 hours, and she owed my entire heart already.
“Of course.” I gladly took her keys from her and subconsciously placed my hand on her lower back like we were some cheesy-ass couple, but she didn’t stop me, so I left it there as I lead her to the only car left in the parking lot, which I assumed to be hers.
“Where are you staying?” I asked.
“At the Red Rock motel, about ten minutes that way.” She pointed north. I couldn’t help but laugh as I moved her arm to the right.
“Sam and I are holed up there too, but it’s actually east.”
We both laughed as I started up the engine.
“Don’t judge me. I drove twenty hours straight to save your asses and I’m tired.” She joked. “Plus, I’ve never been that good with directions.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’ve got your own personal compass now.” I sent her a wink, and she bit her bottom lip, trying to fight the blush that was creeping up on her cheeks, which, in turn, made me blush. Dammit, am I a freaking teenager again?
We pulled into the motel and I walked her to her room. She shrugged off my jacket and thanked me as she gave it back and told me goodnight.
I couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off of my face the entire walk back to my room, and upon entering, Sam noticed.
“Aww, Dean’s in love.” Sam half mocked from the bed he was sitting on, with his computer in his lap.
“Whatever.” I brushed him off. “You got a new case?” I nodded to the computer and newspapers that he had been studying.
“Yeah, I think so. Some missing people in Montana have shown up with their hearts ripped out.”
“Sounds wolfy to me.” I added as I began to get ready for bed. “Maybe Y/N wants to come with us. You good if I invite her?”
Sam raised his eyebrows at me. “No, I don’t mind. But be straight with me for a minute here. Dean, how much do you really like this girl?”
I didn’t even feel the need to lie. “I really, really like her. Like I’m already in way too deep for not knowing her for a full day.”
“Wow. The great Dean Winchester is whipped. Never thought I’d see that day.” Sam closed his laptop and began to gather up all his papers. “Be honest, was it when she threw the machetes?”
“The freaking machetes, man. That was the most badass thing I’ve ever seen…” I trailed off. “But no, I mean, that’s part of it, but it’s just everything about her. I can’t say it’s one specific thing, because it’s just every single detail about her draws me in.”
“Alright Nicholas Sparks, well I’m getting some shut eye and you should too. We have a long drive tomorrow.” Sam turned off the lamp by his bed and turned away from me, snoring almost instantly. I slid under the covers, knowing that I should be exhausted after a long day that involved almost dying, but all I could think about was talking to Y/N tomorrow.
Chapter 7
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thevoilinauttheory · 3 years
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Laughter Lines
[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 5: Extra Credit ]
The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}
[ HEAVY, HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS: drug use, detailed suffocation, detailed drowning, suicidal ideation, heavy guilt mentions ]
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To dream that you are drowning indicates that you are feeling overwhelmed by emotions. Repressed issues may be coming back to haunt you. If you drown to death, then it refers to an emotional rebirth.
==
“That job was somethin’ else, yeah?” “Can say that ‘gain.” Ashley turned his eyes to the stars in the sky, fingers dug into the sand as he sat back against one hand, the other steadying a pipe in mouth. The stench of whatever he was smoking usually had Hunter rile up his nose in disgust… but this one was rather pleasant. Or maybe he had just grown so used to it, that it became a comfort. His eyes turned up as well, only to close to listen to the sound of the ocean gently washing the shore. “Ruta said you’re from ‘round here.” “Mm. Yeah. Limsa.” “...The ocean’s nice. I think I could stay out here a while.” “Yeah? I think so too. Can’t imagine growin’ up in a desert like ya’.” “It… Yeah, it ain’t much.” Ashley laughed, sitting up to look over his friend - then held out his pipe to him. “Want a hit?”
“Not really. But sure.” Ashley never pressured anyone to join him in his habits, and Hunter never took to it. But after their most recent job, it seemed best to get his mind off the entire thing, so he took the offer - inhaling a bit too much for someone not used to doing so. Before he knew it, he was choking on the smoke like he swallowed water wrong, waving his hand at Ashley as he laughed at him. “Got greedy!” “Like-- like hells--” He coughed between words, trying to laugh through the pain in the back of his throat. “Oh, gods… that’s strong.” “Usin’ this one for th’same reason yer wantin’ it.” “Can’t get it outta yer head?” “Mm.” Ashley shook his head. “Well, s’bit easier to ignore it when yer head’s floaty.” “Floaty? More like cloudy. Ooch.” There was silence between them again - but it was comfortable. It usually was, whenever they were in each others’ company. If it wasn’t prodding, it was some form of understanding through silence. “Ash?” “Yeah?” “...What d’ya’ think yer gonna do when yer done with all this work, in th’end.” “I dunno… haven’t thought o’ it. I… hm. Maybe I’ll settle down by the ocean.” “Maybe I’ll join ya’.” Ashley snorted. “Join me in settlin’ down?” Hunter returned it with that dorky smile he had whenever he had a dumb thought and was waiting for someone to catch just how dumb it was. Except this time, Ashley didn’t think it so dumb - no, he blinked at him, as if saying that were the highest form of honor; he wasn’t sure how to respond. He scooted over closer to him, taking his pipe back from him to take another - more impressive - long drag from it; just to show off how he swallowed it down into his lungs without much of an issue at all. In one motion, startling Hunter, Ashley flipped his knee over his lap so that he straddled him; now mimicking that.
“Helluva way t’propose, I’d say.” As he spoke; the smoke kept in, now pouring out in clouds; but a murmur as he closed the distance between them with a surprisingly passionate kiss - the rest of that cloud sucked down Hunter’s throat as he made a noise of bewilderment. He made no move to turn him away, however, now pushing into him until both needed to breathe. “Ash.” “Mhm.” They stared at each other - it was a moment that would have been engrained there forever. This one moment. “Ash, I-... I think I lo--” “Sh, no… don’t say nothin’. Nothin’ at all.” Ashley inhaled sharply, then smiled brightly. “...Not ‘til we get that chance t’settle down.”
==
“Ah, Ashley, right?” “Again? Don’t people have other people they can bother with this crap?” “I-... I apologize, sir. Our company, we were looking for more of your caliber.” “Caliber? You wantin’ me to kill off your people too? Look, kid, you obviously haven’t heard-” “We have, yes. But one mistake doesn’t mean all of the successes were mistakes as well.” “One mistake cost me my family, and it’ll cost you yours.” “Everyone who chooses this profession… goes into it knowing the risks, sir.” “...” The man was right, they knew that every mission had a chance of failure - yet they put themselves up on a pedestal, made themselves and thought themselves the best. Ashley let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right. But no, I can’t join ya’. I’m not ready yet.” “I see… thank you for your honesty, sir. Hopefully… you’ll think of us in the future, should you ever be ready.”
==
The ocean was something of a bittersweet notion, whether it was the memories or the way it was portrayed. The memories - gods, he held tight to them, maybe too tightly. They brought a wash of guilt and pain over him, regardless of how fond they were. Just as the ocean was both the clearest water, gentle and caressing in one moment - then the night would come and turn sapphire waves into bleak emptiness. Full of bounty, full of death, of sunshine, of storms - everything about it fit the description.
The ocean was bittersweet.
Ashley dug his bare feet into the sand, wiggling his toes into the soft grains as he watched the waves drag them further under. “Bet y’d never think t’see me in shorts, huh?” He spoke to no one, but his eyes were on the clouds. “I actually prefer ‘em. I wonder… what kinda clothes y’would’ve preferred outside o’ the armor?” The wonders were met with silence, only the sound of waves filled his ears. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere today. I told ya’ I could sit here with ya’, settle down here. I--” He hung his head, gritting his teeth as he held back tears, to no avail. “I wish y’were here. T’join me. We coulda been lazin’ out here… *I* coulda been, then y’d scold me fer bein’ too lazy. Then we’d laugh. I’d ask ya’ if ya’ wanted t’smoke with me - n’ you’d deny me ‘til y’didn’t. Gods, I miss ya’. I hope Llymlaen’s takin’ good care o’ ya’.” He trudged back to the dry shoreline, flopping into the sand and stared at the sky, listening to the waves until the sun started to set.
“*That’s* what y’d wear if y’could wear anythin’? Yikes.” A familiar voice struck his ears and he clamoured to his feet to greet it. “Hunter?!” He rushed at that lumbering body, filled with so many emotions - relief, anger, sadness. “Hunter, gods be! You- you’re… Hunter, I--” There was that flash again, his head raging a headache as he relieved that moment; that smile, the thumbs up, the last moments spent with him were in danger. And he. He was the one that lived. Why? For what?
He felt his breath taken from him when his eyes opened again. They stung with salt water as he sank deeper under the waves; they cast a hazy glimpse at the clear and reflective surface of waves above him, his hair waving about with the currents. This was the final straw, wasn’t it? This is the one that would take him - he… started to wish it, at this point. He hoped this was true. The sound of the waves and currents in his ears, water soaking his skin and clothes, pulling him further in. He did try to swim away, swim for air, but the water tugged him back in - what he felt was like a lover holding onto him, begging him not to leave.
He gave in when he couldn’t hold the air in his lungs anymore. This was no gentle smoke, no clouds nor fog poured from his lips to spew jests or to give kisses; yet the water still took his mouth with a passion he had only felt once. When he tried to cough, feeling the searing pain in his chest, the tides laughed at him - laughed with him. The corners of his vision were fading, blackening as he struggled to stay awake.
Who would miss him? Who would *he* miss? There was nothing and no one for him. He was so filled with images of war, of abuse, of fires, and murders. Why would he want to keep this? No, he could let go, he could join them; start this whole life-thing over again. Try again. Try for a better end. A storybook just as bittersweet as the sea that swallowed him. As he felt the last of his consciousness fade, he could only smile.
Maybe this wasn’t so bad, after all.
==
He woke up with another start, the tides licked his legs and the stars stared down at him. He coughed, as if the water truly reached his lungs, trying to rid itself of the salt that coated them. But there was nothing. He awoke in tears. Not today, that dream told him. Not today, his love told him. He slowly stood up, searching the shore for his pipe and matches - thankful when he found them dry. He sat back down further away from the water, covered himself in a coating of sand, and looked at the stars.
“This one’s fer you, buddy.”
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thekinghazzastyles · 3 years
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One More Thing // Fred Weasley
Parings: Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: underage drinking, angst, fluff Word Count: 1525 Time Period: Golden Era Request: Hi! I discovered your block and I am in love! Love your stories!!! Keep the good work😊 (your series with Oliver Wood are the BEST🥺❤️).   Anyways i saw your requests are open🙈 can i request slytherin reader x Fred? And the reader can like get anything (answers for tests, some rare herbs etc.) She is famous for getting anything for her friends. And like the twins will befriend her first for the herbs/something for their pranks but Fred will fall for her??   If you don't want to you don't have to i just got the idea😊 anyways thank you for reading this, stay awesome ✨😊 -Lenny❤️ Summary: You can get anything for anyone, as long as they ask. George convinces you to take a deal in which he and Fred only pay three Galleons for something instead of five and you go on a date with Fred.  Authors Note: I was listening to Billie Eilish while writing some of this so I used lyrics (italics) from ‘Therefore I Am’. I’m planning on using them again in another imagine but just not with Fred so stay tuned. :) xx
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Being the student at Hogwarts who knew how to get almost anything meant having anyone from any house in any year come up to you asking for things. Which was a bit interesting considering you were a Slytherin and according to the rest of the houses you ‘Weren’t to be trusted’.
“What can I do for you, Weasley?” George and Fred were two of your biggest customers. They asked you to get pretty much anything. At first they were wary of you since you, of course, are in Slytherin. It wasn’t like you trusted them either, since they were both notorious for pranking, and more specifically pranking almost everyone in the house of Slytherin. And the first time you did business with them somehow you had convinced them to tell you what they were going to do with red paint and gold glitter. They promised they would never prank you in return for providing them with the products they needed.
“We need Firewhiskey,” Fred easily stated. You never had any trouble acquiring any of the products that were requested but you always wanted to know what they were going to use it for. If they didn’t want to tell you then you didn’t push them, but they usually ended up telling you anyways; sometimes without even having to ask. “We are celebrating, love.”
One thing about Fred was that he almost never called you by your name. And he was always flirting with you. Sometimes you flirted right back and other times, you rolled your eyes in complete and utter annoyance but you would for a fact miss it if he ever stopped, but you would never tell anyone that.  
“Celebrating what if I may ask?” You didn't know what they had to celebrate at a time like this. With Umbridge trying to overthrow Dumbledore, with her inhumane ways of handing out detention, and most importantly her lack of intelligence there was nothing good going on this year.
“Life,” George spoke. He was a lot more quiet compared to Fred who had always seemed to be screaming for Salazar knows what.
“Well then,” you started, “ I will get it to you tomorrow; enjoy your celebration of life and I will enjoy the six Galleons you two will pay me.”
“How about five Galleons and we invite you to our celebration,” Fred bargained. You turned to George to see if he was going to try anything. He stood there standing and looking back and forth between you and Fred.
“How about four Galleons, you come to the celebration of Life and Fred takes you for Butterbeer, his treat,” he added, smirking at the both of us.
Before Fred could finish what he was going to say you cut him off, “his treat?” you asked George, leaving Fred completely out of the conversation. He nodded and Fred hit him on his shoulder. “Okay then, why not,” you finished walking off not wanting either of them —mainly Fred— to see your growing smile.
***
George and Fred’s celebration was the night before you and Fred would be going on your ‘date’. George told you to come 15 minutes earlier than everyone else to deliver the  and remove the wards on the boys dormitory, because for some reason you knew how.
You left the Slytherin common room and started making your way towards Gryffindor tower when you were pulled by the arm into some hidden pathway.
“It’s alright,” the voice spoke and you still weren’t able to figure out who it was. “It’s Fred.” You let down your composure and released a breath of relief. “Merlin's beard you scared the bloody crap out of me,” you said, you could feel your heart that was previously racing starting to slow down. “What is this place?” you asked and looked down the dark pathway, but you weren’t able to see far due to the light from Fred’s wand not reaching very far.
“It’s a secret passage, and leads basically right outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room,” he explained.
You didn’t care to ask any other questions, like how he knew this existed so you changed the subject, “who else is gonna be at your celebration of life, as George called it?”
“Just you, Katie, Angelina, Alicia, Lee, George, and I. You know the usual,” he finished shrugging his shoulders.
You had never formally spoken to them anywhere outside of class or if they were asking you for something. You were nervous to be in a room full of Gryffindors but you wouldn’t let it show. The walk to Fred’s house seemed like it was the longest walk ever but the shortest thing at the same time. Just like Fred said, the passage opened right outside the Gryffindor portrait of the Fat Lady.
The common room, compared to Slytherin, was a lot warmer and welcoming as you expected. George was waiting for the both of you on a couch. He stood up and walked over to you with a large grin across his face.
“Welcome!” he exclaimed. You handed him the three bottles of Firewhiskey and he took them from you, his smile growing even more if that was possible. He led you to the boys dorm stair entrance to remove the charm and at the same time, Angelina, Katie, and Alicia, were walking down the stairs of the girls dormitories.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Angelina giving you a dirty look. You decided not to say anything about and not end up being the ‘Problematic Slytherin’. Taking your wand out and pointing at the boys' dorms, you whispered the incantation to remove the ward. “It’s off,” you stated, turning around to face everyone else.
George automatically led the way to his dorm and everyone followed. You went up second-to-last with Fred walking behind you. The Gryffindor dorm looks just like the Slytherin one’s other than the colors and the fact that it’s not underwater so it was already a lot less cold.
Jordan was already in the dorm laying down on the floor. He stood up and sat on his bed when he heard people entering the room.
“What’s up with you?” Katie asked laughing at Lee, taking a seat next to him.  
You took a seat next to Fred, on what you guessed to be his bed. Angelina, Alicia, and George were sitting on the bed across from you and Fred and next to Lee and Katie. George stood up to open the three bottles of Firewhiskey and passed them around.  
“So what are we going to do?” Alicia asked, after taking a swig from the bottle then passing it off to Lee.
“How about we play truth or drink?” Lee suggested, drinking from the bottle. “It could be fun.”
“It's a muggle game if you didn’t know,” Angelina interrupted. “Unless you have a problem with muggles, Y/L/N?” she asked, quite rudely.
“Stop, what the hell are you talking about?,” you asked, confused by what she meant.
“I mean,” she started, “I wouldn’t expect you to be fond of anything muggle related, Y/N.”
“Get my pretty name outta your mouth. And don’t talk about me like how you might know how I feel. I really couldn’t care less. I don’t have a single problem with muggles or anything that they do, I think they’re the coolest,” you finished, standing up. “I think I’m gonna go now. Thanks for the invitation, George. Have a good time and drink wisely,” you said leaving the room. 
You could hear another pair of footsteps follow after you. You turned around after you reached the bottom of the stair and you ran into Fred’s chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking down/up at you. “Yeah, “ you said while nodding. “I’m just tired of people always thinking that all Slytherins are blood purists and that we hate muggles.”
“I’m sorry about her,” he started but you cut him off.
“It’s not your fault, Fred. But I really think I should just go back to my common room, goodnight,” you said, giving him a small smile.
But Fred had insisted on walking you all the way to your dormitory. You both stood facing one another, not saying a word. The corridor was dimly lit and drafty but it was like you couldn’t feel it when the boy with the fiery red hair was around you.
“Goodnight, Fred,” you spoke softly. He stood, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed staring down/up at you. He uncrossed his arms and reached for your hand. He gave it a squeeze, “goodnight, love,” he said, then turning around to head back to his dorm. But he stopped in the middle of the corridor before turning around and walking back to you. “One more thing,” and before you could ask what, his lips were on yours. You kissed him back before he pulled away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at 8,” he said before walking away again, but not before giving you another peck on the lips.
“Tomorrow at 8,” you whispered to yourself.
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