#its not gonna be an easy watch but i NEED to watch it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thestarkinternship · 3 days

Text

10 Minutes

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader: One Shot (Smut)

Summary: Bucky is a little desperate for some alone time during one of Stark's parties, and ten minutes is all he needs.

Word Count: 2.2k (no mention of Y/N)

Warnings: Profanity, drinking, unprotected sex, praise, oral (male receiving), slight exhibitionism (bathroom at a party), MINORS DNI!

A/N: I kinda took a break from writing because I had a lot of unfinished fics, but I'm slowly starting to get back into it. And thank you for 300 followers on here! I can't believe there's that many people of you who actually like my writing :)

Masterlist

“That’s gotta be what, your sixth drink?” You giggled, watching as Bucky polished off another glass, “don’t you wanna slow it down a little?”

With a smirk, he set the empty crystal on the countertop. “Worried I’ll have too much and do something to embarrass you, sweetheart?”

“You could never embarrass me, James,” you rolled your eyes, “and you also can’t get drunk.”

“S’not gonna stop me from trying,” he grinned, “now come here..”

Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pulled you into his side before you could give an answer. Not that you minded – you didn’t need an excuse to be as close to him as possible. You nestled your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the heavy aftershave that he wore. It was your favourite scent. The musk from it mixed with the spice of the whiskey on his breath as it fanned across your cheeks. It was intoxication in the best way possible, superseding the several glasses of liquor that you’d consumed yourself.

“There is something else, if you think you can handle it.”

In your own little bubble, it was easy to forget that the two of you weren’t alone. Breaking your gaze away from Bucky, you saw one of your teammates making his way over to you with a delicately engraved bottle in his large hand.

“Hi Thor,” you smiled politely, “what is that?”

He held the bottle up proudly. “Asgardian liquor, the finest brewed there. It puts everything here on Midgard to shame.”

“I bet.” You chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Bucky grinned, stepping away from you momentarily to join Thor and some of the others in a round.

You folded your arms across your chest as you shook your head. The super soldier serum might stop his body from reacting to alcohol in the typical way, but it did have a particular effect on Bucky. You couldn’t help but notice how he always seemed to get that little bit more handsy with you. Maybe it was a placebo effect, or maybe that was just an excuse to keep you close to his wandering hands.

Either way, barely twenty minutes had passed before your observation was proven true.

Your shoulder leaned against the back wall as you watched Steve and Tony play pool when Bucky joined you.

“Where’ve you been?” he murmured, “I was looking for you.”

His metal hand drifted up your side, tracing the hem of your shirt and slipping underneath to graze your hip. The metal raised goosebumps on your warm skin, and you shivered further back into his arms.

“Bucky, stop… what if someone sees?” You whispered.

Bucky didn’t ease up, rubbing soft circles on your hip as he drew you in closer. “It’s okay, nobody’s looking at us.”

You glanced around. The loud music masked your hushed whispers, and the addition of Thor’s Asgardian liquor had worked wonders on the team of superheroes. With all of their defences down, no one had noticed the way the pair of you had sidled off to the side.

“We shouldn’t risk it.” You whispered, reaching for his hand and stopping it in its tracks.

“Let’s get out of here, just for a little bit,” he leaned in, pressing his lips to your jaw. The gentle ghost of his breathy murmurs in your ear sent your heart racing, “ten minutes, that’s all I need.”

“Are you really suggesting that we hook up in the middle of the party?” Your head tilted in a mixture of curiosity and surprise.

“Why not?” Bucky pouted. His lips looked so damn kissable when he did that. The thought of giving in, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in a frantic need to satisfy the urge that you were starting to feel right now was starting to not seem like such a bad idea.

“Because…” Your voice trailed off in search of a compelling reason. Even the slightly hint of doubt would signal a dead giveaway to Bucky that you were more than willing to give in. And the worst part of it was the stupid grin on his face that told you he knew this too.

“Because?” He taunted, his smirk growing wider.

“Because…” The agitation in your voice grew as you struggled.

Bucky chuckled darkly, letting his right hand meet his other at your waist. He turned you slightly, until your back was against his chest. Grip tightening, he pulled your hips back into his. Pressed flush against him, you became all too aware of the way his tight, muscular body felt against yours. And that wasn’t the only thing.

“Bucky, are you-“

“Painfully.” He whispered, leaving another soft kiss just below your ear. Your head fell back to rest against his shoulder. Lips parting, a quiet whimper escaped from them. Bucky tucked a curl behind your ear to lean in better, “What was that that I just heard, hm? You can resist all you like, doll. But your body’s betraying you.”

He was right of course, but you bit your bottom lip anyway in an attempt to prevent yourself from letting another sound slip. The more you tried to hide your growing desires, the more Bucky persisted. His hand slid down your hip to the hem of your skirt. He played with the material, gently grazing his fingers across the back of your thigh that was now exposed to him. Instinctively, your legs clenched as he dared to venture higher.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. “Bite your lip all you want. But what are you gonna do when you start to soak through your underwear and all over that pretty outfit of yours?”

Your face burned red as your gaze immediately fell downwards. Searching the front of your dress as discreetly as you could, your shoulders relaxed when you found that you hadn’t. But your reaction alone was enough to let Bucky know that you considered it a real possibility.

“Did I have you worried there for a second?” he mocked, “You know I’m right. Come on… ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Yes ma’am.” He smirked, gripping your hand and pulling you out of the room.

It was a wonder that you made it to the bathroom at all. His hands were everywhere. Running through your hair, on your waist, cupping your cheek. But yours were the same, only pulling away just long enough to fumble with the bathroom door. It pushed open, and you both crashed through.

With a hand on his chest, you pushed him back to lean on the door. His eyes widened in at your sudden control, but who was he to stop you? Ripping the hand towel down off the rail by the sink, he dropped it to the floor to cushion you as you sank to your knees in front of him. You toyed with the zipper of his jeans, slowly pulling them and his boxers down in one as you pressed soft kisses to each inch of his bare skin that you exposed.

Bucky let out a tormented groan from the back of his throat as your tongue teased up to the head of his cock. He looked down at you and nearly buckled at the sight. Your hand gripping his thigh, hair messy and lipstick smudged. He watched your wet lips twist into a soft smirk that was so close to wrapping around him.

“When you said painfully, I had no idea this is what I’d done to you.” You cooed, innocently sliding your palm up and down his length.

Bucky hissed at the sensation and reached out to tilt your face up to look at him. His fingers were firm on your cheeks. “We’re down to nine minutes. You gonna keep talking with that sweet mouth, doll, or do you want to put it to good use?”

He didn’t have to ask twice. His tip grazed the back of your throat in one smooth motion. But you didn’t let it rest. You moved your head back and forth, letting your tongue trace over every vein. Bucky’s hand slid up from your jaw to cup your cheek, pulling you further around him as he met your movements with shallow thrusts. His view of you faded as his eyes squeezed shut, revelling in the overwhelming pleasure you were bringing him. The two of you might’ve set a time limit on this brief rendezvous but fuck he could let you go on like this forever.

Head falling back against the door with a soft thud, he growled. The animalistic sound ripped through his gritted teeth as he tugged your head back and off him. Pre cum lingered on your lips as you licked them clean.

Reaching for your hands he helped you to your feet and wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours. He walked you backwards until your bumped into the sink. Reaching for your thighs, he lifted you up to rest on the countertop. Your skirt slipped and bunched up around your waist as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He leaned in, nudging himself between your legs. Gentle whines slipped out from your trembling lips as he brushed over your wetness.

“Bucky…” You begged softly.

“I know, baby, I know,” he murmured, sliding your underwear over to one side, “seven minutes.”

Bucky pushed his hips forward to meet yours, burying himself completely in you. His head dropped to the crook of your shoulder and his lips met your neck. Your arms curled around his broad back, scrunching up the material of his shirt as you clung desperately to him. Soft grunts from him reverberated up into your ear as he pulled out of you only to get sucked right back in by your tight cunt. With one hand on your hip and the other on the edge of the sink, he kept you in position to take it all. Every stroke inside of you had you clenching down around him. His knuckles turned white as his fingertips pressed harder into your skin with each sharp thrust.

“Such a good girl, letting me fuck you with all our friends in the next room,” he muttered between delicate nips at the skin just below your ear, “and you had the nerve to act like you didn’t want this just as much as I did.”

Your hands moved up through his hair and down to the sides of his face as you leaned in, lips met his in a needy fashion. The kiss that followed was all-consuming, swallowing any quiet moans that might give the pair of you away. But shallow breaths slipped out here and there as Bucky rolled his tongue over yours in passionate frenzy.

He pulled on your hip until your body slipped closer to the edge of the sink, and you let out a small gasp. As Bucky’s lips parted from yours, he smirked at the fucked-out haze that glazed over your eyes as his cock rutted up deeper inside of you. As he quickened the twitch of his hips, your thighs tightened around his waist.

“Keep that up, and I won’t be able to pull out, doll.” He grunted softly.

Your brows furrowed as your head leaned back in a wave of pleasure. You weren’t listening to a damn word he was saying right now. Bucky’s hand left your hip briefly to tilt your head back to him.

“Is that what you want? Want me to fill you up and fuck it back into you hard enough that it doesn’t leak out for everyone to see?”

Too out of it to verbally respond, your thighs gave him a light squeeze and answered for you. Bucky’s hand let go of your face and reaffirmed its position on your hip as he then set a ruthless pace. Your head slipped forwards to rest on his shoulder. Burying your face in the crook of his collarbone, your moans vibrated against his throat, driving him crazy. You let your body go limp in his hands as he worked to bring you both a release that the pair of you desperately craved.

Two more thrusts was all it took to bring you both over that delicious edge. His metal hand nearly snapped a porcelain chunk out of the counter with how hard he was gripping it when he came. But you were only the same, with your thighs shaking and breathing heavy. You fluttered around him with every beat of your heart, squeezing every drop of come out of his cock that he had to give you. He lazily rocked his hips a couple more times, coating every inch inside of you.

Bucky’s hands released your body from his tight grip as he gently brushed strand of messy hair out of your face, but he kept himself seated.

“You can’t tell me that wasn’t worth it.” He breathed.

Your pink cheeks pinched into a soft smile. “Maybe it was.”

“Maybe, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, not hesitating to lean into your neck.

“What are you doing?” You giggled as you felt his gentle kisses.

“What? I’ve still got one minute left.” He grinned playfully, trailing kisses up your cheek now as well.

“Bucky.” You whined, feeling his cock teasingly plunge deeper inside of you. Your sensitive body could barely handle any more.

“Fine,” he smirked, and slowly eased himself out of you, “but when this party’s over, I’m done holding back.”

#bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky barnes au

1K notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 1 day

Text

The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe

Word Count: 4.9K A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•) This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!! -

Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.

You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.

“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere.

You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.

A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.

You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.

“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.

“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip.

“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”

With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”

“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”

“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”

There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you.

You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”

“A Goetia?”

“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”

“I don’t get out a lot.”

“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside.

You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”

“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.

You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”

“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”

You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”

“Rough night,” he answers

You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”

When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty.

“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares.

Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess.

There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been.

You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.

The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back.

It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do.

You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.

“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.

“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”

“You don’t got any?”

“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”

He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”

“Were you good at the guitar?”

He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”

“What songs would you perform?”

“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”

“You’d perform in heaven?”

He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”

You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”

“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.”

You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,

He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”

“Are you thinking about buying it?”

“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”

You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.”

He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves.

“Quit judging,” he snips.

You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you.

You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.

“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”

“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”

“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”

“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.

“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”

“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”

“Maybe,” you answer.

“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”

“And horns,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.

You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.” Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”

“So why’d you leave then?”

Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.

With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”

There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity.

There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.

You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits. It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.

“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”

“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.

You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”

Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line.

“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”

“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”

“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.

“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”

“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended.

“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke. “You’re easy on the eyes.”

“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”

“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”

“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”

The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”

“Meaning?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.

You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin.

But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand.

“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”

His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.

“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”

“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.

“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”

“Hell is supposed to suck.”

“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”

“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”

“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.

121 notes · View notes

mammonsrockstargf · 2 days

Note

Hey, i was wondering if you took angsty fluff requests. If so, i was wondering if you could do obey me lucifer with a teen reader who got diagnosed with degenerative arthritis in the back. I recently got diagnosed with it and wanted to request something while im stuck in bed for the next couple days lol. Its oke if you cant tho.

Hi, love, hope you're doing alright <3 Here's some soft Lucy for you. Obviously, I do not know what it's like for you but I did some research and I hope you like it! :D

It's evening when you knock on Lucifer's door. "Come in," he says and you gingerly do, looking at him from the door.

"My back hurts and I can't sleep," you say and Lucifer beckons you closer. "I have some painkillers somewhere around here," he says, shuffling around in his desk drawer. "Why do you have painkillers?" you mumble, sitting down at the edge of his desk. "For you, of course," he says as you get comfortable, your feet no longer touching the ground. He says a small "aha" as he finds what he's looking for and hands you the painkillers. Before you can even ask, he hands you a water bottle and watches as you swallow the pills. "Better?" he asks and you nod. "Yeah, thanks," you say while fiddling with your hands in your lap.

"What's wrong?" he asks and you sigh. "Nothing," you say and Lucifer frowns. You look up and purse your lips, crossing your arms. "Fineeee," you say. "I'm just scared I'll be like this forever," you say. "What if I never get better?" you murmur. Lucifer takes your hand in his own and gives it a soft squeeze.

"You're going through something very tough right now," he says softly. "It will not be easy, but you will get through it all right? You are not alone in this. Lean on me, lean on my brothers," he says and you sniffle. He stands up from his chair and pulls you into a hug, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. "We'll take it one day at a time, yeah?"

—

You stop when you drop your pen, looking down at it. "You gonna pick that up?" Lucifer asks standing next to you, looking at the pen as well. You nod slowly, unable to tear your eyes from the pen. "Yeah, I'll pick it up right in a second or two," you say, but you wince when you feel a sharp sting in your back. "Or maybe I'll just leave it there, who needs a pen anyways," you say and laugh bitterly. Lucifer scoffs and picks up the pen for you, handing it to you. "Don't be silly, you can't just leave a perfectly good pen behind," he jokes and you give him a pointed look, taking the pen. "Thanks," you say and he smiles at you, before heading out of the room.

The next time you open your pencil case in class, there are at least twenty pencils in there, that you're certain come from Lucifer. You're definitely not running out of pens at this rate.

—

You whine when your blanket is pulled at and cling to it like a cat. "Leave me alone!" you say and Lucifer grumbles, letting go of your precious blanket. He says your name in a sharp tone and you open your eyes, glaring at him.

"You have school,"

"I. don't. care."

You have a staring contest for a while, which you essentially lose because demons barely blink.

"Why won't you go?" Lucifer finally asks but his tone is stern and mean. You frown at him some more, for good measure. "Everything hurts, I hate it here," you say and turn to your side, before immediately making a noise of pain and turning back. "If I could I would turn my back to you, but this is the only comfortable position for me to lay in," you say and the corners of Lucifer's lips turn slightly upwards.

"What can I do for you?" he asks and you roll your eyes. "Well, for starters you can let me skip school," you say.

"Okay,"

"And some painkillers would be nice,"

"Got it,"

"Also a heating pad,"

"I can get that for you,"

"..."

You look at Lucifer. He looks back.

"And some chocolate,"

"Deal."

—

"Everything hurts, Lucy, I can't walk," you complain, stopping in the middle of the street and crossing your arms. Lucifer stops and his eyes narrow at you. "You were walking perfectly fine a few minutes ago," he states and you roll your eyes. "Yes and now I'm telling you, my joints hurt," you say and a deep sigh leaves Lucifer. He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again.

"All right," he says. "I guess it can't be helped."

Lucifer kneels in front of you, with his back turned towards you. You stare at the back of his head for a while, before he turns to look at you over his shoulder, his hands motioning for you to come near.

"Don't make me wait, get on," he says and your mouth opens then closes again. You're completely speechless. The avatar of pride is literally kneeling in front of you. "O-okay, yeah, whatever," you eventually say, getting on Lucifer's back. You wrap your arms around his neck and his hands hook under your knees, keeping you in place. "There we go," he says and stands up, beginning to walk down the path to The House of Lamentation.

You walk in silence for a while, (or well, Lucifer walks) as you rest your head on his shoulder. "Thank you," you murmur and you catch the corner of Lucifer's lips turning slightly upwards. "Gotta keep my little human comfortable, right?"

#perse fics #perse fluff #perse requests #perse inbox #lucifer #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x you #obey me lucifer fluff #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer angst #obey me angst

52 notes · View notes

lillybearrie · 2 days

Text

Guys- guys! I need to talk about this because omfg arararara

Ok so I was watching sherb's most recent hardcore stream, or more accurately got not even a minute in and ran to Tumblr because I have thoughts, and maybe it's because I just binged Icarus's pov post-centross death but the first like 30 seconds or so of the hardcore stream made me realize the difference between someone like hardcore!Sherbert and Icarus.

Icarus is in a deep state of self loathing and needing to grief so so many things so many people they need to process so so much but their own father has convinced them that it's pointless that it's not worth it that they should just focus on other things like helping him in his endeavors and so they don't and instead they bear the weight of this feeling of guilt and dread that they carry it around all day every day and they use it like armor because they don't have much else anymore. They pour all of the doubt they used to have into blind faith in fable's cause because they will not process and they will not grief over the fact that in only the past 4 months they have either indirectly or directly been at fault for 2 of their friends deaths and that their very existence prompted the destruction of so many peoples lives fable caused the resets for them to save their life fable destroyed reality over and over and over until the universe was delt what is likely irreparable damage all for them and honesty we really don't talk enough about the guilt they must carry for that. Icarus wakes up and even if it's been a few weeks is immediately so so tired the weight of everything going on in their life waking up with them waking up with the voices that constantly tell them what they already know the voices the yell and scream that their wrong that their hurting people again that their acting corrupted The voices that never shut up day in and day out. And they stretch because sometimes keeping a routine in times like this is key to keeping sane and yk stretching is just generally a good habit. Their alone except for the emotionally distant basterd of a previously immortal man that dares call himself a father ( we're not gonna talk about how the stuff he instilled in ick when they were little influenced a large part of how the corruption presented itself in them during season 1 because this is not that post but if it was I would have so many words you don't even know) life right now is one big distraction and when it's not they either have a break down or they're chasing the next distraction and you can see that when they wake up because you get 2 kinds of Icarus in the morning angry Icarus who will take it out on quixis or us because they need that emotional release and we're easy targets or planning Icarus who is only thinking about what they need to do today they do mindless chores or talk with co-workers or are figuring out how to complete task fable asks of them.

Hardcore!Sherbert on the other hand is for better or worse alone completely and utterly aside from the things their's not a single actual person in their life. they farm they build they vibe and weird shit happens around them sometimes and they hear voices, they wake up and look forward to the next day even when they've been asleep for months they look in the bright side "not a bad thing tho it's important to get your sleep" they are so... free in comparison with Icarus and you can hear it in the way they talk its lighter you can see it in they way they move it made me realize how little Icarus actually truly smiles nowadays hardcore!sherbert has their fair share of struggles don't get me wrong but at they end of the day they're happy they enjoy life for the most part.

And Sherb does such a good Job acting out this fundamental difference between these two variations of the same guy. I go ababababa it think it's neattt anyway go appreciate Sherbertquake56's phenomenal acting after this long ass post psychoanalizing they way their minecraft characters wake up which is a total sane and normal thing to make a Tumblr post about at 4 am mhm

#i just think they're neat #thank you for coming to my ted talk #i go abababababa #i hold them #i has so many think thoughts #so many #the psychology of Icarus Morningstar consumes my brain #send halp #icarus morningstar #hardcore minecraft #sherbertquake56 #sherbverse

30 notes · View notes

meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 3 days

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 28

>:D

mastapost

The Panama Canal was one of the greatest feats of 20th Century engineering. Originally, ships that wished to cross from the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific Ocean, or vice versa, were forced to make the long and arduous journey around South America, a trip that would take 20,000 kilometres, which would also mean our story would be much, much longer (or at least require more time skips).

It was not as simple as digging a ditch. Panama is a beautiful, but very rugged country, with hilly and mountainous terrain that halted the French in their tracks. That, and the copious mosquitoes. Landslides and rain beat back attempts to dig the canal in the 19th Century. But the dream did not end.

How did the Americans do it? All they needed was a bit of lateral thinking. Instead of digging the entire canal and attempting to conquer the mountains and hills, engineers built a dam to flood an artificial lake, leaving a 15km stretch of unflooded land. This is where they built the remaining canal. In order to raise ships into the canal’s lever, they build a system of locks. Each lock would funnel water into the one behind it, raising the ship until the water level was even on both sides, and so on.

The Canal was vital in the war effort in World War 2, and it was a target of the Japanese I-400 programme, until Okinawa fell, and it was decided that destroying the locks would have had no effect on the war.

This is where the story takes Danny and Damian.

“Land ho!” Danny cried out at the first patch of land. At last, after however many thousands of miles travelling (Danny had lost count) they were here.

“We are not sailors.” Damian grumbled. Maybe he was getting excited too. Danny could feel the way the kid’s fin’s thumped on Danny’s scales, like a puppy wagging its tail.

“Right, we’re just borrowing one of man kind’s most impressive engineering accomplishments for sailing.”

Damian huffed. “As sea creatures infamous for attacking sailors. Be glad we are not in the olden days, or our presence would have caused national, or international panic.”

Danny felt the urge to riff on the kid’s comment, but he remembered the stinging silence from yesterday. He decided not to push boundaries this early back into their kind-of make-up. “As it is I’m sure the authorities don’t mind that much. Probably don’t even believe in sirens. I think they’d just be angry that we didn’t pay the fee.”

With the canal in sight, Danny zoomed into the bay in minutes. The bay narrowed into a waterway leading inland underneath a huge bridge. Danny gasped at the size and scale of the thing. The boys continued up the bay. They dodged ship propellers, dove underneath hulking hulls. The water tinged with the smell of barnacles and metal. Nobody was out on the shoreline looking for sirens, which was a big plus, but Danny still kept a tight handle on his invisibility whenever they got close to the surface.

Soon, they reached the first lock.

“We gonna jump over or what?”

Damian trilled. “That would be an easy way to get spotted.”

“I can make us invisible, duh.”

“They would notice the splashes. We have not seen the GiW in some time, but I would prefer not to give them any ideas. We do not know who could be watching.”

With that, Danny found himself icing his body to the hull of some random cargo freighter. The ship approached the locks. They waited for painstaking minutes, watching the water level rise inch by inch. Once it reached the midway point up the next lock, the gates opened. Then the ship slowly inched forward. Then the water level inched upward again.

“This is gonna take for-freaking-ever.”

“Swimming around South America would have taken forever.”

“Uuggghhh.”

It would’ve been nice if there were some pretty landscapes to stare at for the next however many hours this would take. Sadly, their surroundings were all smooth concrete underwater, void of life and energy. Above water, it was the same, save for some small patches of grass and dirt lined the edges of the locks. Workers and vehicles milled about with their tasks on barren grey roads. The shipyard buzzed like persistent mosquitoes. Whirring machinery, shouted orders and gasping engines filled the air. He even felt a literal mosquito land on his nose when he surfaced to check. He was invisible! What the fuck!

So Danny dipped back underwater, hopefully drowning the little blood sucker. He didn’t want to know what a mosquito could do with his blood.

“What is the situation?” Damian asked.

“Boring. And normal, I guess. The stench is killing me though. God damn.”

Damian’s ear fins quirked. “Do sirens worship Christ?”.

“Uhh, not sure. I’m totally atheist though. Must be why the Fentons call me godless sometimes.”

The next lock finally finished opening. The ship continued inching painfully forward. The hum of its engine echoed back and forth in the ditch.

“Gahhh! Please. Move. Faster!” He banged the hull.

“Please stop complaining. You are contributing to the noise.”

Danny went to make another complaint, only for Damian to nip him in the ear.

“Yowch! What was that for!”

Damian went for the other ear.

That was when Danny sniffed a familiar scent. He slapped his hand over Damian’s mouth. “Wait. Something’s up.”

Damian froze. “What?”

The boys scanned the lock. They were alone in there, without a doubt. Danny’s lateral line only sensed Damian with him, and the scent of another sea creature would have been a beacon in the stale water.

Danny broke off from the ship. He melted his ice, just to be safe. The boy carried Damian above the surface invisibly.

“You see anything?”

“Just employees. And equipment.”

“Let’s look behind us.”

The water level had just about filled the up to the top of the gate behind them. There was little risk of being left behind by the next, seeing as Danny’s swimming speed would let them catch up with the boat in seconds. It took little effort for the boy to scale up the walls and peek overhead.

He was treated to a vast overhead view of the waterway. Danny hummed. All he could see was more machines dotting the side of the canal underneath tree cover, and beyond, the vast blue sea.

Damian squeezed his arm like a vice. “We have potential trouble.”

The older boy scrambled. “What? Where?”

“Down there.” Damian pushed the back of his head down.

Danny’s heartrate spiked. Just approaching the lock system was a familiar white boat. Nerves buzzed underneath his skin, like insects crawling into his scales. “I don’t understand. They have no reason to think we’d be here.”

“Perhaps they are just passing by. It could be a coincidence. Will they detect us?”

“Probably not. Radars to detect are expensive as hell, and only the Fentons know how to make them. They’d have to use sonar, and that can only happen if they’re in the same water as us.”

The boys dipped back into the water. Damian clenched his white shoulder. “We will be past these locks by the time they open for that boat.”

Danny nodded quickly. “Yeah. We’ll be fine.”

They returned to waiting.

His fins flipped back and forth in place. Back and forth. He counted the inches. He cheered every new inch the water level took. Why did it take so long just to move some freaking water?! His fins sped up, becoming a blur. They stirred up eddy currents and swirls. At some point he even felt eddies from Damian’s fins too.

Danny took a deep breath. Fear was the mind killer, or whatever they said. Even if his back scales felt like knives were raking over them, the rational part of his mind tried to insist it was all fine. They were probably just moving some assets to the Atlantic. A million and one different ships used this passage.

But it wasn’t right. His nose was good in this form, but not that good. That boat was over fifty meters away in a completely different body of water.

“Damian. There’s more to this. There’s gotta be.”

“Your nerves are contagious. Keep a handle on them.” Damian grumbled.

“I’m serious. I couldn’t have smelled that boat. It’s like a football field away on a different lock. It’s impossible.”

The swirls of water from the small siren’s fins ceased. Danny couldn’t see him, but he felt the weight distribution change a little, like Damian had just lifted his head. “This warrants further investigation.”

The boys resurfaced again. Danny climbed his way up the walls of the lock on the side. They peered over the edge, keeping their noses open. “I don’t see anything.”

Maybe he was overthinking it from stress…

Just then, Damian tugged his sail. “The other side!” He hissed.

Danny turned around. At the edge of the shipyard, his vision clipped onto two distinct white suits talking to some important look guy in a black suit and hard hat. The black suit guy pulled out a walkie talkie. Suddenly, Danny realised the water level had been still for some time.

His voice lowered to a whisper. “Damian, I don’t think they’re just passing by.”

“It cannot be. What reason would they have to suspect we would be here?”

“I don’t know.” Danny clenched his fists around the concrete wall they had been sticking to. “But this is getting bad.”

More men appeared on both sides now, carrying harpoons, hydroplasm guns, and water testing equipment. Quiet adrenaline fired into his fins. A warbling growl rumbled in his throat.

“What if we can swim ahead? You have the speed to outrun them.” Damian’s voice trembled unevenly. His hands shook.

“Damian, the water’s stopped raising. They’ve locked down the lock. If I jump, they’ll be on me in a second.”

“We cannot sit here and wait for them.”

“I know.”

Danny wasn’t doing much better. If he were in human form, his hands would be soaked in sweat by now. His head whirled. The agents seemed to be in every direction. The water still wasn’t moving. The gate was still shut tight. Danny could probably squeeze his body through some kind of gap, but Damian? He didn’t want to grind the kid’s bones into pulp.

“What if we fight them?”

“You don’t have any of your weapons, and I’ve barely had anything to eat.” No food meant no healing, and little energy to toss ice beams willy-nilly.

“Do we have no other option?”

He cursed the stupid freaking GiW. At least his parents had their moments. Nothing good ever happened when the goons in wetsuits showed up. The last time he and Damian saw them was in freaking Amity Bay! His head spun trying to figure out what had given them away. What could get them out of this situation?

There was one other option. The option Danny had desperately hoped would never have to be considered. But it wasn’t just Danny’s safety now. At least his parents had the decency not to dissect Damian (at least during their stay on the SAV). The GiW would be much less merciful.

Danny’s heart rate spiked. Do or die, then. Sink or swim. He gathered up every ounce of courage that still survived his parents.

“We do.”

“Do it now.”

Danny squared up his shoulders, acutely aware of how the scales on his arms touched those on his armpits. How the water touched his back with no clothes in the way. “Do you trust me?”

Damian hesitated. He could smell the kid’s reservation in the water. He counted the steps the GiW agents took, as if in slow motion. “I have no other person to rely on.”

“We won’t be able to cross Panama. We’ll have to go back the direction we came.” Guilt jumped into the party of stressors stomping on his nervous system.

Damian warbled, like a wounded animal. “I know.”

They were so fucking close. They’d just barely gotten into Panama, and it’s all been ruined and he didn’t even know why.

“Hang on to me. And whatever you do, be quiet.”

Danny placed one arm on the top surface of the lock. He used it to pull himself up and over the edge, pushing with his second arm. Slowly he pulled his entire body over the edge of the wall. Danny began wiping drops of water off his body. He could do it while still being completely wet, but it hurt like a bitch and took ages.

Slowly, invisibly, his scales receded into skin. His tail split open. Its bones reshaped into legs. His tailfin hardened into feet. Danny stood up, still clutching Damian to his chest. The boy gasped at the sudden increase in elevation. And despite being invisible, he could practically feel the boy’s judgement baring down on him.

The GiW agents were closing in.

Danny stuck to the dirt and grass. The asphalt would have fried his bare feet off. Not a pleasant sensation. A pair of agents approached the canal, guns in hand. Danny crept along the side, tiptoeing carefully so as to avoid making a sound and drawing attention.

As Danny slipped away, the pair of agents came up to where he’d just been standing. Thank god.

There was an issue though. The locks were obviously built uphill. That meant going along the canal would bring him through the treacherously steep terrain. Not a good look for a scrawny boy with no shoes who needed to be silent. One slip and the entire force would come down upon him.

Damian squeezed his hand. There had to be a way somehow.

Danny swallowed a thick lump. He formed a layer of ice. Despite it only being a few millimetres, it felt clunky and horrible to walk in, and would definitely make a sound, but it would have to do.

Just carefully. One foot over the other. Let the foot come down gently, like a bee’s landing. Danny walked out into the asphalt, just within earshot of the agents at the edge of the canal.

“Got anything?” The one crouching over it said. He was so tempted to shoot an ice beam and knock him into the water.

“Not yet. It could be hiding from the sensor. We’ll give it another five minutes.”

“It better be close. Sun’s killing me out here.”

One of the nice things about sirens is that they were quite sensitive to heat. Thanks to some nifty evolution, it meant that Danny’s invisibility extended into the infrared and ultraviolet range. That was the only reason he wasn’t getting sunburned out the wazoo, and the only reason Damian hadn’t dried out yet. The air was still very, very warm, but he didn’t need to worry about the radiation from the sun itself.

Danny managed to get out of earshot of those agents. His concentration was split between keeping this ice on his feet solid, and on keeping Damian from dying of heatstroke. The boy remained silent, as requested. Danny’s eyes snapped from one side of his vision to the other, hyper aware of his space, and of the dozen or so agents scattered around the perimeter.

Let it be known that he was no ninja. Probably the only saving grace he had was the fact that they were expecting an invisible fish in the water, and not a kid walking on land. One of the agents barked an order. The agents split into groups of two. The pairs scattered, probably making for the other parts of the canal. That meant two of them were coming his way. Danny’s breath hitched. Sweat dripped down his brow. He iced it over.

Damian’s fins hung low too. Their sharp tips brushed against his belly. He couldn’t stay out here long. He needed water and quick. The boy chirped quietly underneath Danny’s hand.

He ambled to the right of the matching pair. Best to get out of their way. For a bunch of guys in fancy suits, they walked quickly. But Danny couldn’t. His makeshift shoes would be too loud.

He was barely able to get out of their way, barely able to avoid brushing shoulders with the men who wanted him a lab rat. Relief cooled his system like his ice.

Then one of them stopped.

“Wait, G.” He turned around. Turned toward Danny. Hairs stood on end. Knees rattled. “Agent H!”

Danny was seconds away from bolting. Only Damian’s tight grip was able to ground him from doing something stupid.

The man pulled a bottle of sunscreen from his suit. “Agent H! You forgot your mandated sunblock!”

With the GiW agent breaking into a light jog, Danny had seconds to react. He threw his body to the side just as the agent rushed through. The motion pushed his upper body just an inch too far off base. Danny’s eyes widened. He flung his arms wildly, but he could not stop the descent.

He shifted gears. The boy twisted his body so it faced the ground. Damian clung tighter, his claws digging into Danny’s chest. He shoved his hands forward. No time to ice them over. Danny planted his fingers on the ground. Sunbaked pebbles seared his fingers. His tongue bled as he bit down the urge to cry out.

His scream was only muffled into a groan. The footsteps of the agent stopped.

“What?” The man whispered.

Danny became a statue. The man’s gaze crawled over his back like an ant colony. Danny’s pulse stomped around in his ears. In his burning fingers. Each millisecond a war between the urge to cry out, the emergency signals of heat and pain, and the adrenaline that he could not let out. Just hunched over, still.

“Agent F! I’m turning into sun-dried tomatoes here!”

At last, at long last, the aforementioned Agent F took off. “Sorry! Just got distracted by some mosquito buzzing.”

Fuck. That was close. Too close.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

Panama Canal.

What was that menace doing, heading for Panama Canal?

Maddie Fenton’s phone lay off to the side of the console. The new stream chattered. She paused from her work (really just staring at the radar) to refresh the news sites in English. Then whatever Spanish sites, translated by her browser. Nothing. A week ago she would have gone in guns blazing, ready to take out the pelagic punks and stop them from carrying out their dastardly plot.

With their engines busted, that plan wasn’t looking very good. After six hours of repairs, she and Jack had only managed to achieve a fraction of their original top speed. Enough to get them to Panama eventually, but not any time soon. They still had more repairs scheduled. It was only due to Jazz’s intervention that they sat down and took a break.

She wanted to work. She wanted to throw herself into metal and nuts and bolts. Anything to keep her mind from that face.

For years she had made it her mission to bring the sirens to justice for all they had done to her family and others. The few times she got up close to a siren they were vicious, snarling predators. She expected the same stubborn defiance from Phantom.

His resistance was token, at best. She could tell how scared he was even as he put up a tough face. Then he broke down, sobbing and incoherent. It was fake. It was all an act. It had to be. Phantom was stalling for time. He was manipulating her from the start. It had to be. It had to be.

How could it be?

She pulled off her gloves. She stared at the quivering hands, the hands that were a moment away from pulling the trigger. She was so sure she would have done it. He had to have known. He was an awful liar. Tried to misdirect and feign ignorance, and gave himself away every time. Who did he think he was fooling? And yet she could not steady her hands.

Maybe that was his con all along. Not even try to be convincing. Just babble whatever nonsense to lead them along like a string of helpless ducklings until help arrived.

Phantom had never worked with anyone else before. Not from his own kind, at least.

Maddie sipped a cold cup of tea. Maybe he had been migrating, and these were his original pod? If he were with his original pod, then there would be a lot more noise in Panama. The canals were narrow. Phantom was on the smaller side, but even two adults would have been noticed, right?

Did they even exist at all?! She had rebooted and reconfigured the radar, spending hours only for it to fail to detect any of Phantom’s pod. It was like they showed up for one moment, then vanished into thin water the next.

It wasn’t enough. The scientist in her demanded more evidence. Her hypotheses felt flimsy even to her, like there was something that was glaringly missing.

It all went back to that expression. That haunted anguish. Those streaming tears. The face that tore her vision away and replaced it with years of comfort. Years of holding Danny close. To that day when Danny showed up back home six months ago, the day a miracle came to her.

His face was the same back then. Maddie had rushed to hug the son she’d thought she’d lost. However, her baby boy flinched back, like she was going to strike him.

It broke her heart then.

“Mom?” Her daughter leaned into the door way.

“Jazz, I told you to take it easy.”

Jazz came inside, and sat down on the chair beside her. “I am taking it easy. Just getting some fresh air.”

She leaned to the side, her eyes discerning like they’d always been.

“Mom, are you ok?”

Dammit. Was it that obvious? Maddie shook her head. “You know me too well, Jazz.”

She pulled her daughter in. She held her and let herself be grateful that at least she was still here. That there was still hope, somehow. But that hope now clouded over with uncertainty.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

It shouldn’t be that way. Maddie was the mother here. It was her who was supposed to be comforting Jazz, but it was the other way around again.

“I just don’t know. Jazz. I thought I knew everything I needed to get the job done, but…”

But now she didn’t. Jazz nodded silently, letting her continue.

Maddie held her tighter. Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Sweetie, I’m not sure anymore. Jazz, I can’t get it of my head. The way he looked at us. The way he didn’t. And I’ve been thinking about it for hours and I can’t make heads or tails on it. None of my theories can make up any kind of framework that could explain what happened.”

“Maybe it’s time to find a new framework?”

Maddie pulled back in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“Find new evidence. If the current evidence contradicts established theories, then hunt for new evidence that could explain the discrepancies. And then establish a new more comprehensive theory.”

That… made a lot of sense. It was at times like these she marvelled at the brilliance of her daughter. But there was just one issue.

“But your father and I still haven’t finished repairs yet.”

“That’s ok, Mads!”

Her husband and Bruce leaned in to the bridge as well. Bruce Wayne’s head still sported a large bandage around it, but the man was looking much better for wear.

Jack continued. “It was obvious we weren’t as prepared as we could be. Otherwise the fishie little fiend wouldn’t have given us the slip. With the SAV busted, I say we take Jazzie’s advice and go on recon mode.”

Determination shined from Bruce’s squared shoulders. “Jack’s right. We can take the jet skis and catch up to Phantom easily. Then we can observe him ourselves or deploy a drone or two.”

That was surprisingly sensible. They needed more information. Then they could cross out the possibilities and the what ifs, and narrow down the truth.

More than anything, Maddie needed the truth.

Damian was beginning to get uncomfortable. The mucus coating his scales meant that they remained moist. However, he still lost water due to respiration. Not to mention the sweltering heat. Although he did not suffer the burning sunlight due to Danny’s invisibility, the humid air also contributed to his discomfort. As a fish out of water, Damian could tell he could not last much longer.

But his physical discomfort could only distract from the real questions in his mind for so long. Why did Danny hide this ability from him for so long? What was he so scared of? In hindsight it was logical that a siren with the ability to turn humans into their species could also turn themselves into humans. Damian felt the soft, human skin of Danny’s chest against his own scales. His cheeks just so happened to be laying where the teenager’s gills used to be. Now they were smooth. Damian numbly counted Danny’s ribs, which jutted out.

Why did he expect Damian to trust him when he still continued to hide things from him?

Danny walked into a clearing. He carried Damian far past the shipping yard that they had crawled out of, and into a building. It appeared to be some kind of administrative building. Damian nudged him with his chin. Where was he taking them? He walked through the glass sliding doors behind a member of staff. Cool air conditioning chilled Damian’s scales. Danny bee lined for the bathroom, finding it empty. He iced the door shut.

Damian found himself placed into the (thankfully clean) sink. Cool running water washed over his body, bringing much needed relief. Damian purred quietly underneath the cool tap. For a moment, the room contained only the sound of running water, and Danny’s heavy breathing.

Danny’s invisibility deactivated. Damian watched pallid skin appear out of thin air. Stickly legs shivering. The newly human teenager leaned against the war, panting. His chest had no gills, as he’d expected, and his skin was completely opaque. Black hair appeared where there was white. Eerie aquamarine was replaced with dull blue. A familiar face rendered bare of scales or fins was revealed. A very, very familiar face.

And instantly, everything clicked into place for Damian.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merman #merboy #mermaid au #angst #bruce wayne #good parents jack and maddie fenton #good sibling jazz fenton #good friend damian wayne #mer!danny fenton #mer!damian wayne #internal reveal

29 notes · View notes