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raineydays411 · 4 years ago

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Steve Harrington sucks.

Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

A/N: Yay! My first request done!🎉✨ Please don’t hesitate to request anything, and I hope you enjoy. Sorry it tooks so long, I just started school.

Summary: (Y/n) Henderson has been through some shit in her 17 years. Her father leaving, an overprotective mother, bullies, interdimensional monsters, government conspiracies, etc. Needless to say her life was constantly changing. There was one thing that will always remain the same though. And that was the hatred she has for the one and only Steve Harrington.

Request from anon.

Masterlist

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You and Steve have never seen eye to eye. You haven’t for a very long time. You two used to be best friends, but that was a long time ago. Before high school and cliques mattered, and before Steve was known as “King Steve.” But once you two entered freshman year, Steves popularity rose and you were left behind.

Even though you and Steve no longer associated with each other, that didn’t stop you two from fighting any chance you got.

You two argued about everything. If you said the sky is blue, Steve would argue that its actually purple. No kidding, he actually made the argument that the sky was purple. Needless to say, you two hated each other.

“Steve, I swear if you don’t move your feet I’ll--”

“You’ll what Y/n, please tell me what you’ll do?

“ I’ll take your feet and shove it up you---”

“Can you guys not...”

It was always like this. Ever since Steve started dating Nancy it was like he was always there. And because Nancy was your best friend, you got reacquainted with the King of Hawkins High.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After everything Will with through with the Upside down and El, you were relieved that it was over. You could go back to your normal life of being a big sister and being top of the class. But then your brother started acting weird.

It started on Halloween, he came home and was holding his ghost trap thing from Ghostbusters weirdly. You thought it was a rat or something at first but something seemed off.

Then Mews went missing. Mews was given to you on your thirteenth birthday, so loosing her was devastating to you. You still had faith that she just ran out and was lost somewhere in the woods. You spent hours looking for her but no dice so far. You were in your room when your mom called you from the kitchen.

“Yeah?!” you shouted, finishing up some missing flyers for Mews.

“Can you go find Dusty for me? It’s getting dark outside.” After the incident with Will and Barb, the parents became a lot more wary when it came to being out after dark.

Rolling your eyes, you get up from your small desk and walk out to the kitchen where your mom is. As you get closer, you smell the weird concoction your mother is making on the stove. Your mom wasn’t the best cook.

“Did he mention where he was going?” you ask, scrunching up your face at the sight of the...stew??

“He mentioned something about Lucas and a code red?? Whatever that means.”

“Code red?” you ask, you weren’t too nervous because code red could mean anything. and Dustin tends to be over dramatic. But still, a small voice in the back of your head is warning you.

“I’m not too sure dear. Would you like to have a taste before you leave?” aaand that was your cue to leave. You start rushing to the door

“Sorry mom! I better go find Dustin before it gets to late.”

You start to make your way down the road when a flash of red catches your eye, you walk towards it . You realize its just some pieces of meat. Then you see what looks like a trail. Leading from your basement to the woods. A bad feeling settles in your stomach, and before you go in the woods, you get a hockey stick that you wrapped with barb wire a few months ago just incase.

Then you follow the trail of meat into the woods.

You follow the trail till it leads you to the junkyard. By the time you got there it was already dark and surprisingly foggy.

“Dustin?!!” You shout, seeing the pile of meat stopping. You step over it as you walk around shouting for your brother.

“Hello!!? Dustin this isn’t funny, moms worried about you.”

And that's when you heard it. A low growling sound. Right behind you.

“Y/N!! WATCH OUT”

You spin around to see what looked like a demogorgon, but on all fours like a dog. And it was slowly walking towards you. Growling as it stepped closer and closer. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you tighten your grip on the hockey stick. Adrenaline rushing through your body. Your senses heightened as you focused on the creature in front of you. You lowered your body into a crouch to prepare for an attack. You slowly backed away slowly as it stalked toward you. You heard what sounded like Lucas or Dustin tell you to run but you knew if you turned around, that thing would pounce on you and you’d be dead. And if you died, what would happen to your brother? To Lucas?

Then the demodog lunged at you. The muscles in its leg tightened as it jumped toward you. You held your breath as you swung the stick with all your might, hitting the monster in mid air. It yelped as its body was flung sideways. It layed there for a moment them leaped up on all fours again, You backed away but never took your eyes off it.

“Holy shit what is she doing” a girl??

“YEAH THATS MY SISTER!” Dustin

“Y/N THREE O’CLOCK! THREE O’CLOCK!” shit.

You can see another figure moving in your peripheral vison. Another one. You position your body so your able to see both dogs at the same time, but then you hear chirping and growling from all ends. You were being surrounded.

“STEVE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Then, Steve Harrington runs out of a broke down bus, bat in hand as he settles up behind you.

“What the hell are you doing here Harrington?”

“Saving your ass Henderson, what does it look like?”

“I had this under control”

“Oh yeah, being surrounded definitely screams under control.”

You aren’t given a chance to respond as another demodog leaps at you and Steve, forcing you to swing out and hit it again straight in the head. Another dog leaps at Steve, and he manages to hit it with the bat.

“We’re going to die if we stay here” you say assessing the situation.

“ No shit sherlock.”

“Shut up and listen” You shout. “you run back to the bus. You need to protect the kids. I’m going to distract these fuckers. When I say the word, you open the bus door and let me in. These things hunt in packs, so they won’t chase both of us if I run first.”

“Henderson thats--” You don’t hear the rest as you dash from the spot. As predicted the dogs chase you and don’t pay no mind to Steve. You can see Steve reluctantly run back to the bus as you take a lap around the junkyard. You have to hit some more dogs but you manage to get back where you were.

Then you were tackled. Dropping your stick you scream in pain as the demodog digs it claws in your shoulder. You struggled to get your stick as the other dogs get closer and the one on top of you is lowering its flower mouth to your throat.

“Y/N” you hear your brother scream desperately. You find the strength to kick the dog off of you and launch yourself off the ground. You scoop up the hockey stick and swat the other dog that was in your way as you sprint towards the bus.

“NOW STEVE LET ME IN” You screech as you near the bus. The doors slide open as hands wrap around your arms and pull you in.

You lay there for a few seconds breathless. Muscles burning and ears ringing. You ignore the kids talking over each other and Dutsin fretting over you. You just breath, feeling a bit safer than you did outside. Then something rams into the side of the bus. The kids start screaming and Steve shouts something. You gather your strength once more and stand up, your body screaming at you. You see those demon dogs are trying to get in through the roof. You watch Steve start fighting them as you push the kids behind you. You step forward to help when suddenly they stop. Then they all run away and its quiet. After a few moments you feel weak and slump to the floor.

“Woah woah, Henderson” Steve surges forward and grabs you by the shoulders, you hiss in pain as he grabs the wound, “Shit, this is bad”

“Bad? What do you mean bad? How bad??” Dustin questions, his eyes watering at the thought of loosing his sister.

“I’m fine Dusty.” You say standing up. “ It probably just needs a cleaning and some stitches that all.”

‘You look like you should be an extra in a WW2 documentary.” Steve deadpans. “You should go home.”

You roll your eyes “ Oh like YOU would know what that would look like, you don’t even show up to history class.”

“ That's not the point Henderson, your arm is about to fall off.”

“I am not leaving these kids here defenseless.” you say crossing your arms, but wince as you do.

“First of all they have me, and second of all, you can’t even move your arm! You’d be in the way.”

“ I’m sorry but who was the one that distracted those things? Who came up with that plan to get you back in the bus??” you say, annoyed at the accusation of being useless.

“she has a point” muttered Lucas, earning him a smack in the arm by Max and a glare from Steve.

“Listen Harrington” You say poking him in the chest. “ I’m fine, im not going anywhere, and I can kick your ass even with my arm fucked up. Now we’re going to get out of this FUCKING bus and figure out what the fuck is going on. AM I CLEAR?”

A shocked silence settles in the bus. Lucas and Dustin chuckled and Max smirked in admiration. Steve glared at you, simply saying “Crystal” and turned around marching off the bus. You roll your eyes as Lucas and Max get off as well, leaving only you and your brother.

“That was really badass. The way you fought those demodogs back there.” Dustin said looking up at you.

You smile and ruffle his hair.

“ I wasn’t going to let them get my Dusty Bun” You say in a baby tone pulling him in for a hug. He groans at the name but hugs you back.

“HENDERSONS MOVE YOUR ASSES” Steve shouts. You roll your eyes and nudge Dustin towards the door.

“Come on, before King Steve blows a gasket”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You find out that Dart killed Mews and are absolutely devastated. Dustin felt guilty as he was basically the reason why your beloved cat died.

“It’s fine Dustin, now I have even more of a reason to kick their doggy ass.”

You walk ahead of the group seething in anger and fear. Your arm was still sluggishly bleeding and throbbing in pain.

“You really should do something about that shoulder” Steve said as he walks up next to you.

“Sure, let me just stop at the hospital while my brother and his friends chase flesh eating dogs from another dimension.” you reply in an sarcastic tone.

“I’m just trying to help.” Steve says in a soft tione

You roll your eyes and mutter a fine. You then rip a strip of fabric from the bottom of your shirt and wrap it around your shoulder.

‘There are you happy now?”you ask

Steve is stunned, he never realized how...tough you are.In fact this whole experience has made him realize how smart and resilient you’ve become. Far different from the shy quiet girl you used to be when the two of you were friends. He never wanted to stop being your friend, in fact he even harbored a little crush on you but he just got caught up in the popularity and attention. Then he got with Nancy and started seeing you constantly again, only now you hated him. It hurt him in ways he didn’t understand. And while he’ll always love Nancy, he’s starting to realize that maybe he’s starting to fall in love with you too.

You look at him weird, as he just stared at you with this weird look on his face. You walked past him as the entrance to the lab becomes clear.

“Hey guys” You shout. “We’re here.”

Then you hear it. Bone chilling roars fill the air. The lights are out inside the lab and you can hear the screams of the people inside. and then rustling comes from the woods. You push the kids behind you and Steve as you tighten the grip on your weapons.

“Steve?” “Y/n?’

“Nancy?’” “Jonathan?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After finding out El was actually alive and Will’s interrogation, you officially have seen it all. You, Steve, and the rest of the kids stayed in the Byers house while the “A team” went back to the lab. You finally were cleaning your shoulder when you heard the rumble of an engine.

Great Billy Hargrove.

“It’s my brother! If he catches me here he’ll kill me” Max says, he tone laced in fear. You and Steve look at each other, and then Steve walks out to deal with Billy.

“Quick hide and don’t let him see you” you say moving toward the door. You open it in time to see Billy knock Steve down and kick him. You flinch and are just glad that it wasn’t you.

“Oh” Billy coos, “ Are you gonna let me in Princess or am I gonna have to move you?”

“Moving me sounds fun, how about we try that” you flirt back, hey anything to get him to calm down.

He chuckles. “Nice try toots but I got a bone to pick with my step sister.” And with that she shoves you out of the way. You realize that you can’t fight Billy off alone, so you run to help Steve.

“Come on Harrington, up you go” You try and help him up. You hear the kids shouting and some stuff smashing. “Come on Steve, he’s on there with the kids.” You say urgently.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Steve says, finally getting up. You and Steve rush into the house to see Billy holding Lucas up against a shelf. Steve then rushes to the two, as you go to the kids making sure they’re behind you.

“YOU’RE DEAD SINCLAIR, SO DEAD”

“No, you are” and with that Steve punches Billy in the face. You pull Lucas away, checking him over to make sure he’s alright. The kids are cheering Steve on as he beats Billy.

“KICK HIS ASS STEVE”

Then the tables turn. Billy smashes a plate over Steves head, knocking him down and punching him in the face. They get into the living room and Billy isn’t stopping. He’s punching Steve in the face continuously.

“STOP YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM” Dustin screams

“BILLY NO”

You rush forward and try to pull him off. “Billy thats enough, he’s already down!” he just pushes you to the ground and resumes his beating. You get up, desperate to help Steve.

“Y/n!” You hear Max yell. You look at her and she hands you something.

Will’s morphine.

Without a second thought you ripped the cap off the needle and injected the drug in Billy’s neck. He flinched and stood up, giving poor Steve a break from his brutal beating.

“youbitchwhatdidyoudo” He slurred as he pulled the needle from his neck. He then fell on his back, half unconscious. Max, surprising you all, took Steves bat and yelled.

“From now on you leave me and my friends alone, you understand?!”

“Screw you.”

She brought down the bat between his legs. Your eyes widened as she slammed the nail covered bat on the floor between them.

“SAY YOU UNDERSTAND. SAY IT! SAY IT!”

“I understand” Billy finally whispered as the drugs took over. After watching that you ran over to Steve. You checked his pulse just to make sure he was alright.

“Alright Harrington, get up” You said. “Come on Steve.”

“Y/n, we don’t have time.” Mike said. “We have to help El.”

“How are you even going to the tunnels Mike? It’s too far to walk.” You say as you put Steve's head on your lap.

Max then walks up to Billy and pulls his keys out of his jacket. “Y/n can drive us.” she says. Then the whole party laughs. “What? What's so funny?”

“Y/n can’t drive us” Dustin said laughing. You glare at him from your spot.

“Why not?” Max asks.

“Because” Mike replies, “ She failed like three of her drivings tests”

“Yeah, unless you want to hit every mail box on the way and get whiplash, y/n is out” Lucas chimed in.

“Hey! I was not that bad” you yelled incredulously. “ Besides what would we do with Steve?”

“Leave him here?” Mike said

“With Billy?” You asked

“Yeah we could just tie Billy up or something”

“We are not leaving Steve” Dustin said. “He’ll be chill when he wakes up, I promise.”

“We still can’t go” you say. The group groans

“Why not” Mike says

“Because, I can’t drive you.” You reply. Then Max ‘s face brightens

“I can drive.” She says

Suddenly, you’re in the backseat of Billy's stolen car, Steve sprawled across yours, Mikes, and Dustin's lap as Max drives erratically to the field.

And then Steve wakes up.

“y/n??” He mutters looking at Mike, Mike gives him the side eye as Dustin starts talking.

“Hey buddy” Dustin says “ He kicked your ass but you put up a good fight”

“Dustin!” you shout

“What?”

‘Oh god” Steve says realizing what was happening “ Oh my god stop the car!!”

“Steve I promised them you’d be cool if we brought you”

“oh god

“Make a left here” “you’re okay”

“Steve relax she’s driven before”

“yeah in a parking lot””That counts!”

“Stop yelling!”

“Stop the car, stop the car” Max takes a sharp turn

“WOAHH” “STOPTHE CAR”

“Steve calm down” “I told you we should have left him!’“

“AHH SLOW DOWN” “CALM DOWN”

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP! I’M TRYING TO FOCUS”

Max hits the breaks as she makes to to the field. You all stumble out of the car and head to the trunk, getting ready to head into the tunnels. As you’re putting on your mask and goggles Steve stumbles to the back of the car yelling,

“HELLO! Do you guys hear me, we are not going down there!”

“Y/n how could you let them talk you into his” “ARE YOU DEAF? HELLO?

“WE ARE NOT---”

“STEVE!” Dustin shouted, “The fact of the matter is that a party member needs our assistance. We can’t just abandon her.”

“...fine” Steve says, and he puts on the bandana and goggles. You walk up to him and hand him his bat. “ Wow Harrington, you’ve never looked better”

“Ha ha, get in the hole”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After struggling to get into the hole, you finally made it into the tunnels. It was dark and damp in there. Cold as you and the party walked further and further into what could be your doom. Specks of...something floated in the air and the walls were covered in what looked like vines. Steve was at the from of the line while you were at the end.Making sure both ends were covered and there wasn’t any chance at a sneak attack.

You stood at the back with Dustin as he kneeled down to tie his shoe and then a flurry of that white shit sprayed in his face. He started freaking out immediatly, screming and spitting

“SHIIT! ITS IN MY MOUTH!”

Steve ran over to him and started asking whats wrong. Seeing Steve so worried about your brother warmed your heart, especially because it’s been so long that Dustin had a male figure who cared about him in his life. Now that you think about it, Steve has been really protective over Dustin these past few days, in fact he--

“Hey Y/n, are you okay” Steve says, interrupting your thought.

You look at him and nod, “We should keep going”

He nods and take his place back in the front. The group only had to walk a few more steps till they reached the hub,

“Let’s torch it” Steve said as he stepped forward. The kids spread out, pouring gasoline on every inch of the cavern. After you were done, Steve pulled out his lighter and flicked it on.

“You ready?” He said. You all nodded and prepared to run for your life. Steve threw the lighter and the whole hub was lit. The everyone ran. Mike got caught as a vine wrapped around his leg. Steve struggled to it get off when you came around.

“Stand back!” you yelled and swung you hockey stick down on the vine a couple times. This cut it in half as you heard it..squeal?? You then helped Mike up and urged him to start running. You were almost back to the hole when you were stopped.

A demodog stood in the way of your freedom. Hunched low and growling as it wait for you to make your move. Thats when Dustin spoke up.

“Dart” “Shh Dustin get behind me” You shushed him, trying to pull him away from the creature but with no luck. He slowly walked toward iy.

“Dustin what are you doing?””Get away from it” the rest of the group whispered as he pulled a candy bar from his pocket.

“yumm nougat” He said, breaking the candy bar into pieces and fed them to the demon dog. ‘There you go buddy, eat up” He then waved to you.

“hurry up go” He said still crouched down. Carefully, each member of the party passed by. Creeping passed the demodog who paid no attention.

“Bye buddy” Dustin whispered as you and Steve pulled him away.

You finally got to the hole. You and Steve helped each of the kids up the rope. Rushing as you heard the rest of the demodogs running to find you. You finally got Dustin up the rope when you saw them. The pack of demodogs running full speed toward you and Steve. There was no time for either of you to get up the rope. Steve pulled you into his chest as the pack drew nearer. You tensed up, waiting to get torn apart by these creatures.

“Y/N! STEVE” Dustin cried, being held back by Mike and Lucas.

The closer they got the harder it was for you to breath. You closed your eyes and dug your face into Steves chest.

They ran past you. The demodogs run right passed you and Steve as if you weren’t there. You feel them run past your legs, bumping into you as they are called somewhere else.

You sigh in relief . You look around the cavern, realizing you’re not dead. Steve laughs a breathless laugh as you smile, the threat of death gone. You realize that you’re still pressed up against him, and look up. Staring into the brown eyes of the one and only Steve Harrington. His goggles pulled up against his forehead and his bandana around his neck.

You don’t know if the adrenaline or you not giving a fuck, but you fling off your safety glasses, pull down your bandana ans surge up.

Capturing Steve’s lips in a kiss.

He makes a little ‘oomph” sound in surprise as he realizes what's happening. But then he relaxes and kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your hands go into his hair as you wrap your arms around his neck, prompting him to lean closer. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you begin to let it in when--

“OH GOD, REALLY?”

Dustin. “GUYS THEY'RE MAKING OUT’”

“Ewww, come on do you really gotta do that here” Lucas complains.

“Yeah! we don’t wanna see that” Mike says, frowning in disgust.

“Come on’ Max says, pulling Dustin and Lucas by the collar of their shirts. Mike following behind them.

You pull away from Steve, giggling as you see the awe struck face he's making.

“Come on King Steve” You say, starting to crawl up the rope. “Before Max starts joy riding and leaves us here. He shakes his head as he watches you get to the top and starts climbing.

“Hold your horses Henderson, I’m coming.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #reader insert #stranger things x reader #fanfic #steve headcanon #netflix #enemies to friends to lovers #adventure #d&d campaign

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bangtan-gal · 5 years ago

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Stray Kids Reaction to First Kiss

Requested hihihi! i don’t know if your requests are open, but if they are or when they are, can I request a reaction to first kiss with stray kids? thank you!

Bang Chan

Your laugh was loud and probably extremely obnoxious to the people around you, but you didn’t care. Chan smiled at you and shook his head.

“It’s really not that funny,” he whined, leaning against you and burying his face in your shoulder. You raised your eyebrow.

“You ran into a pole because you got distracted by a bird,” you squeaked out and the sentence only made you start laughing again.

“Y/N!”

You smirked at him. “Ahhh, are you embarrassed?”

Your faces were inches apart as you stared down at him. His eyebrows raised as the two of you continued to have a stare-off. Then Chan quickly pressed his lips to you and pulled back with a soft laugh at your expression. That was the first time he ever kissed you.

“What?” He teased, “are you embarrassed?”

Kim Woojin

Woojin’s hand was warm in yours as the two of you raced through the rain. It was freezing cold and soaked into your clothes. Water collected in your hair and streamed down your face. Your whole body was freezing and you desperately wanted to be indoors, curled under a million blankets. The two of you slid last second onto the late bus and relief-filled laughter filled the air between you.

Woojin wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. Water droplets hung from his hair and clung to his eyelashes. This close, he looked gorgeous. Your lips curled upwards, thinking of one specific thing that could possibly warm you up. The two of you had almost dated for a month and so far you’d only held hands. Woojin was scared of rushing you and ruining things.

“Hey, Woojin?” “Hmmm?”

You grinned. “Can you kiss me already?”

So he did and it definitely warmed you up.

Lee Minho

“Wait so you’re scared of goats?” Minho asked, eyes wide in disbelief as he stared at you. You huffed, playing with the ends of your sweater.

“Is it really that hard to believe?” You pouted, crossing your arms. He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you.

“But look at how cute they are!”

You couldn’t argue that the goats weren’t cute, it was just nervewracking to be standing this close to them. As a child, you’d gotten stuck in a pen with goats and they’d ended up eating your hair. It had scarred you for the rest of your life. It didn’t matter that they were on the other side of the fence and you were now a couple feet taller, they were still monsters.

“Holy shit, you’re shaking,” Minho murmured.

“Y-yeah, no shit Sherlock,” you squeaked out. He pulled you tighter against you, hugging you tightly. You glanced at him and you momentarily forgot about the demons two feet away from you when you saw just how close he was to you. Your gaze flickered to his lips and then back up to his face, a nervous smile breaking out on your lips.

You felt stupid standing there with hundreds of people milling about, both of your gazes fixed on each other’s lips. It forced you to lean forward and quickly press your lips to his before pulling back with a squeaky giggle. Minho grinned and kissed you again, managing to pull you even closer.

Seo Changbin

Honestly, you hadn’t wanted your first kiss with Changbin to be when you were crying because you dropped your ice cream cone but that seemed to be how it played out.

You weren’t a five-year-old, just more of an unstable young adult. Changbin had promised you an ice cream date and you’d been looking forward to it. Now your ice cream sat in a quickly melting puddle at your feet and you were already ugly crying.

“Hey.” You could tell he was trying really hard to not laugh. “It’s gonna be okay, you can have mine.”

“B-bu--”

That was when he kissed you, hard and quick before he pulled back with a snort. You forgot what you were complaining about and instead just stared at him with your mouth hanging open.

“No need to whine, Y/N,” he sighed, handing you his and then dragging you away from your ice cream puddle.

Hwang Hyunjin

You weren’t even ashamed to admit you were screaming your ass off the second the roller coaster started. Your chin was uncomfortably tucked against your chest and your eyes were pinched shut. You had never been so relieved in your life as when the roller coaster stopped and you stumbled off.

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Hyunjin laughed, fingers intertwining with yours as he dragged you through the amusement park.

“It was like I went to fucking hell and came back,” you grumbled, leaning against him.

“That was literally a ride for five-year-olds though?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Your cheeks burned and you tried to pretend that you didn’t see the wave of kindergarteners that ran past you. Hyunjin shook his head and laughed again.

“I think I’m gonna die,” you huffed. As you continued to fall against him, the boy gave up on dragging you onto another ride and instead picked you up bridal style. You didn’t complain as you dramatically lay limp in his arms.

“Anything I can do to help, princess?” He snorted.

“Fo~oood,” you mumbled. You just had lunch but food always solved your problems. Hyunjin gave you a dead stare and you rolled your eyes. “I mean... I guess a kiss could suffice.”

Even you were surprised by your bold antics. You and Hyunjin weren’t technically dating, you were just friends going on dates to see if you liked each other. You opened your mouth, ready to take back what you said, but Hyunjin beat you to it. His lips were soft and he tasted like cotton candy. When he pulled back his cheeks were bright red and you were sure yours looked very similar.

“Now can we go on the Ferris Wheel?”

Han Jisung

It was late as Jisung pushed you back and forth on the swing. Your hands clutched the cold metal links, eyes focused on the ground swaying below you. You felt stupid every time Jisung’s hands pressed against your back to push you forward. He said it would make you feel better, but it only filled you with a bitter nostalgia.

“I miss you a lot,” you whispered. Jisung sighed, moving away from behind you. He moved into your line of vision, settling in the swing beside you.

“I miss you too,” he murmured. You stared at him, biting your lip sadly. The blue that was once in his hair—the color you’d picked out for him and helped him dye—was now mostly faded to black. It was longer than before and now overshadowed his eyes.

He’d moved away a year ago and your world had crumbled afterwards. School became harder and life became lonelier. Jisung had changed so much, with new contacts in his phone, new prioritiess, and a new girlfriend. That was the part that hurt the most.

“You won’t be able to come back for a while after this?” You asked.

“Probably not for another year... who knows—.”

“You might never come back,” you muttered. Jisung stared at you and then bit his lip.

“Yeah.” He stood up and hugged you. Your head fell against his chest and you let your eyes flutter shut. “Don’t cry.”

You knew you shouldn’t, but you did. You knew that it was cruel to him and yet the tears kept coming. He had to leave in the morning and who knew when you’d see him next. You stood up, pulling your head back so you could meet his eyes.

“I love you,” you said softly.

“I love you y/n,” he said with a bitter smile. Then you told yourself that you only live once and kissed him quickly. You stepped out of his grasp and then backed away.

“Goodbye Jisung.”

Lee Felix

The coffee was a warm contrast to the snow twirling outside your window. Felix sat beside you, earbuds in and eyes closed. You couldn’t stop the smile that came to your face as you watched him.

You looked away, shaking your head and chuckling. “Always tired.”

He cracked one eye open and then closed it again.

“I have reason to be,” he mumbled. You smiled and cuddled into him. Felix wrapped his arm around your shoulder and sighed. You let your eyes close as you focused on the sound of his beating heart and you didn’t notice his gaze trained on you.

“Y/N.”

“Hmmm?”

“I kinda wanna kiss you,” he whispered. You raised your head, staring at him.

“Only kinda?”

He blushed. “I really want to.”

You raised your eyebrows, leaning towards him. Felix’s cheeks were bright red as his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips. You giggled as his indecision continued and then he smiled nervously.

His lips were softer than you anticipated and his movements were gentle. One hand cupped your cheek and the other held the back of your head. Felix pulled back, leaving barely centimeters between you. He grinned and a breathy laugh escaped him.

“That only made me want to kiss you more.”

Felix’s teeth are brighter than my future...

Kim Seungmin

Puppies. A whole room full of fluffy, squirmy, and adorable puppies ran around you. You didn’t even have to turn around to see Seungmin’s big smile. His hands still hovered by your eyes.

“This is...” you started giggling slightly, “an oddly satisfying birthday present.”

One little black fluff ball ran towards you, it’s tail wagging vigorously as it sat at your feet. You smiled at it, scooping it up. Seungmin came to stand beside you, his eyes focused on your face.

“You like it?” He murmured.

The puppy kissed you and you laughed.

“Yeah. I fucking love it.” You confirmed. You tore your gaze away from the puppy and grinned at Seungmin. “Thank you.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“Really,” you said, laughing at his expression.

Yang Jeongin

“It’s gonna rain.”

You glanced up at the sky and let out a sigh. Jeongin was right; dark clouds were slowly collecting over the sun. You pulled your jacket tighter around you and ducked your head.

“I wanna go home,” you huffed. Jeongin rolled his eyes at you, pinching your forearm.

“You’re the one who dragged me out here. We’re not just gonna leave,” he muttered, “look, we’re almost there.”

You actually weren’t. You were nowhere near the front of the line and you were sure by the time you got there, it would be pouring. All you had wanted to was go to the meet n greet and at least get in two feet of your idol and breathe the same air for just a solid second. Instead, you were freezing your ass off and it was about to start pouring.

“Please, you wanted to meet him just as much as me,” you muttered.

“No, I just drag myself around for you because I—.”

Jeongin cut himself off and glanced at you. Your stare was skeptical and he huffed. He pulled off his hoodie and handed it to you.

“We’re gonna see the love of your life and maybe you can get a kiss from that weirdo,” he grumbled.

You snorted. “What, are you jealous?”

He didn’t respond. You laughed, leaning against him.

“You are!”

His cheeks turned red and he frowned at you.

“You so are!” You laughed.

“Shut up.”

Jeongin looked away, tucking his hands into his sweatpants. You tried to muffle your laughter but it was impossible. You slapped his shoulder.

“You’re by boyfriend, not him,” you said, raising an eyebrow, “no need to be a little bitch about it.”

He glanced at you. “Then how come I haven’t gotten a kiss yet?”

You threw your arms around his neck, over dramatically leaning towards him. You pressed your lips to his and smiled against him. When you pulled back, Jeongin was staring at you in wide eyes.

“I wanted you to initiate it idiot, but you never did so I just figured...”

“I thought you didn’t want to!” He exclaimed.

You smacked his chest. “Don’t blame me for this!”

“But it’s not my fault either!”

1K notes · View notes

well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now · 4 years ago

Note

I have a question for you! As it is the lovely Mammoney's birthday coming up, what would your MC give the boys for their birthday?

This actually became a lot longer than I expected because I couldn't help writing minifics whoops and ahh asks about my MC make me happy cause I rarely get to talk about them specifically

Note; despite the typical idea you'd get from their name Eliza is neither white or western or a girl. All the relationships except the one with Mammon are just platonic✌ lemme know what you think cause feedback (either good or bad) is my only fuel

Lucifer

Lucifer gets a #1 MOM mug but also the day after his bday he gets Eliza asking Diavolo if he could let Lucifer off work for the day and dragging the rest of the brothers out of the house while making Lucifer promise he'll take a nap.

"Are you ordering me?"

"Well I mean...yeah? Not - not in a," they wiggled their fingers in front of them "pacty way. Just in a concerned friend way."

"And if I don't?"

"Well Diavolo went through all the trouble of taking on your work load... He'd be terribly disappointed if nothing came of it."

Lucifer had to stamp down the twitch of fond amusement that threatened to show on his face, "Are you trying to manipulate me?"

"No, I am manipulating you. Because it's working."

He gave them a dubious look.

"It is working. Right?"

With a sigh he said, "It's working."

"Great!" They pressed forward to give him a tight brief hug whispering "Happy Birthday Lucifer" before they were moving away, running off to presumably gather his brothers. "Remember," Eliza yelled over their shoulder, "Sleep!"

Mammon

The day of Mammon's birthday he gets a scavenger hunt. He grumbles at first but the lure of the prize at each location has him solving the riddles in seconds. Eliza trots after him to each location. The gifts, though there are a lot of them aren't anything big or overly expensive, a keychain with a little crow at the end of it, a bright gold cover for his D.D.D., A tote bag just so he could put the rest of his gift in it, that one choker/collar he had been eyeing a few days ago, a few of the old Disney princess movies because he got really into Cinderella, a warm scarf and set of mittens for the colder months because they know he prefers the warmth, a new pair of sunglasses, a new pair of earrings/studs, nail polish. But it's the little notes attached to them that's killing him.

"It's cute like you!" "Ik your eyes aren't gold but I always think of shining gold when I think of them. Maybe because they are so precious?" "I love you" "I saw you staring at it. You probably thought you'd look hot in it. You're right." "Did you know meeting you made me believe in happily ever afters?" "This one's pretty selfish because seeing you happy and comfortable makes me happy" "This one's a joint gift. I'll need to borrow them because you light up the room" "You deserve the best things because you're the best" "Have I told you I love you" "Stop solving these riddles so fast! I spent a lot of time trying to find the hard ones and now you're making me look dumb! Plus my legs are hurting."

The words of the last note blurred a bit as he tried to discreetly sniff. He'd been holding back tears since the second note, not that he'd ever let the human know (they knew). He wasn't sure why this was the one that broke him.

"Mammon?"

He turns to Eliza slowly. Making sure he doesn't crush the note.

They're panting slightly, from having to run up and down the whole house after him, but they smile brightly when he meets their eyes. "Seriously man, slow down for us weaker beings yeah?"

Then Mammon does something he rarely does. He makes the first move. He shoots forward to envelope them in a hug. They yelp at the sudden movement but immediately fold their arms around him.

They're almost the same height, something Eliza loves to hold over him, so it's easy for them to shift back and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "I love you."

That just makes him sniff harder and burrow further into their shoulder, "Said that twice already," he mumbles between hiccuping little sobs.

"Dunno what to tell you, Mammon but I love you a whole lot. Just once won't work"

"... l - love ya too dummy..."

"There's one more riddle."

The last one simply says "Happy Birthday, Mammon."

"What's the gift?" He asks, looking around his room where the last riddle had led them.

The click of the lock and the wicked look on their face says it all.

*If you think the notes were cheesy Eliza absolutely cringed while writing them and had to take breaks to go scream in their pillow because of how sappy they were, but Mammon liked this kind of cheesy and it doesn't mean they weren't 100% sincere.*

Levi

For Levi they hunt down Simeon, trailing after him begging, negotiating and making deals.

"I-is this - this isn't - h-how - there isn't any - ELIZAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" He launches himself at them, still holding the little book. "I LOVE YOU!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ELIZA! I - " He pauses, seeming to finally register his words and jumping away, hand flying to cover his flaming face "I! That doesn't mean! I didn't mean it like -"

"Love you too," they say easily.

And that has Levi blushing even more and trying to hide his face while mumbling something about 'normies'.

"Do you like it?"

"LIKE IT!? How'd you get it! This! This isn't even supposed to exist!"

"Ah I spoke to Simeon, he wrote it just for your birthday. They're only a collection of short stories though."

"FOR MY BIRTHDAY!? A LIMITED EDITION!? NO! NOT EVEN A LIMITED EDITION, AN IMPOSSIBLE ONE THAT SHOULDN'T EVEN EXIST!"

"...happy birthday Levi?"

"I LOVE YOU!"

"Love you too."

Satan

For Satan Eliza follows both Diavolo and Lucifer around, once again begging, pleading and bargaining. Diavolo agrees pretty quickly, it's Lucifer they take a week to convince

"Where are we going exactly?"

"You'll see."

"And how exactly did you manage to convince them to let us into the human world?"

"Uhm.."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

He chuckles softly, gently bumping them with his elbow he asks, "At least tell me where we are."

"Well this is where my mother was from. She was the one who was Lilith's descendant."

"It's not the same as where you lived?"

Eliza flushes at his use of the past tense. "Nope. It's funny though... "

"What is?"

"The first people who lived, the natives, the name of their clan translated to 'Demon'. They even had a Demon King. Ah, not sure how much of that is actual history and how much has been twisted through time but. It's an odd little coincidence don't you think?"

"Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre..."

"Don't quote your detective at me."

Satan laughs. "What happened to them? In your history?"

"Well it's a bit of a long story, it's not exactly a fair one either."

"History so rarely is. It's always told through the mouths of the survivors, the winners, it rarely gets a chance to be fair, to be anything more than fiction peppered with fact." His eyes are fixed firmly on the sky.

Eliza looks up with him, staring at the cloudless blue sky.

He shakes himself out of it with a chuckle, "That doesn't mean I'm not interested in hearing it. Quite the opposite actually." He smiles sweetly at them.

Eliza grins back. "I actually managed to get us a few days here. There are lots of ruins all around the country, they're not from that original clan but they're still really old and kind of amazing. We won't be able to visit all of them but it's still something."

"It is. Thank you, Eliza. It means a lot that I'd be able to learn something new and that you're sharing this with me."

Still grinning they hug him gently.

He wraps his arms around them

"Is this the part where you wish me?"

"It is. Happy Birthday, Satan."

*Anyway this is part of our actual history and even though I haven't really decided where Eliza is from this felt fitting? The detective quote is taken straight from Sherlock Holmes*

Asmo

"Elizaaa~ This is so sweet! Ahh, I love it! I love you!!"

Eliza couldn't help the soft laugh as Asmo clung on to them, rubbing their cheeks together and enveloping them in the sweet scent of his perfume.

"How did you know I needed this?"

"Well, living with six brothers anyone would need a weekend spa retreat away from them."

"You're right, Eliza! You're so right! They're the worst and it's even started to affect my skin! I needed some me time."

"Well... It's actually a coupon for two..."

Asmo blinked at them looking down at it and yes it was a coupon for two.

"You know, just in case you wanna..." they did a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle that had him giggling.

"Well then, Dear. How about a weekend spa treatment with me? Hmm?"

Eliza blushed, stumbling back and stuttering, "That's not - I - you know - I'm just - I - "

He watches them stutter, with an amused smile before he mercifully cuts in "I know you're set on that idiot brother of mine. Lord knows why, he's such a mess and I'm much prettier. You know I love you Eliza but you really do have terrible taste."

At their scowl he giggles, "But you love him, and you look out for him and you make him happy and he does all that for you too. And, well that's all that matters, isn't it?"

They're a bit red again, but they're smiling at him softly and looking at him with such love in their eyes, it makes a gentle sort of warmth spread through him.

"No, what I meant was not everyone in my family has been driving me crazy recently and you look like you could use a weekend off too. I can tell you embarrassing stories about Mammon from back in the Celestial Realm, if that sweetens the deal? Unless," now that he thought about it, "that makes you uncomfortable!? Ah! Eliza, I'm so sorry I didn't even think! I know you don't like this kind of thing, that's okay I'll ask So-"

"No, wait Asmo it's fine. I don't mind it, if it's with you."

Asmo blinked. The warmth spread. Then he flung himself at them again, "Elizaaaaa, don't say things like that and expect me not to react!"

They laughed, easily catching him in their arms, "Happy Birthday, Asmo."

Beel & Belphie

With Beel & Belphie Eliza leads them into the attic and locks the door behind them.

"Are you going to kill us here?"

"Haha. Funny."

Belphie laughed lightly, and Eliza could almost hear Beel's frown as commonplace as it was when the topic was brought up. Not wanting to keep Beel in any type of discomfort they reached out with that flicker of magic in them and a muttered spell and lit the fairy light like little lamps that hung across the room.

"You're getting better at that." Belphie said, eyes on them and looking impressed.

Beel hummed and agreed, looking proud.

"I know." Their chest puffed out a bit and the twins laughed.

Letting the moment fade they swept their hands, gesturing at the rest of the room. "So what do you think?"

The furniture had all been moved to the sides, the blankets and pillows from the room along with many, many additional ones were all piled strategically on the floor, making a large nest like structure. The outer structure of the nest was lined with various boxes and packets of different kinds of snacks and drinks. On the wooden floor in front of the nest was a large cake decorated in warm oranges and cool purples.

"I made it!" They said, proudly before deflating a second later "Well Luke made it, he wanted to do something nice for Beel's birthday but I stood around and licked the raw batter so that counts?... There's also a handheld vacuum for crumbs." They gestured at the side.

"It looks good," Beel said with a nod. "Smells good. I'm hungry."

Belphie tilted his head, "So your present for us is our sins?"

Eliza bristled, "No. That's just the setting, next is the accessories."

"Accessories?" Beel asked softly, still eyeing the cake, only held back by the firm grip that both Eliza and Belphie had on his hands.

"Accessories." Eliza moved away to a corner, returning while juggling two wrapped gift.

"It's that manga of Levi's that you like, it's the full published series so you don't need to keep borrowing it." Turning to Beel, "pyjamas. Large oversized thick and comfy pyjamas. I washed them too so that they would smell nice and wouldn't be scratchy. So this is your present: A sleepover, cuddled together under the blankets, in large comfortable clothes, eating junk food and reading manga where none of your brothers can interrupt." Eliza stopped for a breath, their proud smile dimming a bit, "I guess your presents are your sins..."

"No. They're not." Beel said firmly. Hands already unbuckling his pants and sliding them down. He changed his clothes quickly with no care for either of his audience who, to his credit, failed to react. He folded the old ones and placed them in a corner while Belphie removed his boots.

"They're not," Beel said again looking straight at Eliza, "They're quality time doing things we love with the people we love, without having to worry about anything else." He walks up to them, enfolding them in a warm, soft hug. "Thank you, Eliza."

"Right, right. Our sins are part of it because those are things we enjoy. But they're not the actual gift. Like you said it's the settings and accessories that make the actual gift. And that's spending time together without any of those idiots interrupting us for once."

"It's a good gift." Beel said, as Belphie slid into the hug. Beel lifted them both off their feet as they clung to him.

"Happy Birthday guys," Eliza said through their laughter.

"Love you," they both said in unison.

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imlovethomassanders · 5 years ago

Text

Destined - Chapter 1

You can also read on ao3

This work is complete, and new chapters will be added everday until completion:

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (FINAL)

Summary: Damien never wanted soulmates. When his fifteenth birthday came, he prayed he wouldn't receive a "hint" - a way soulmates are connected to help find each other. And to Damien's horror, the universe gives him multiple soulmates. He's determined to not let them find out about them. He wants to let them live in ignorant bliss and not force them to deal with him. As Damien grows older, he moves away and goes to college - He even manages to find a boyfriend that he chose himself, and Damien tells himself that he's happy. But on Damien's twentieth birthday, the universe gives him and his soulmates another hint - and this one is not one Damien can avoid.

Pairing: DLAMP

Warnings:Abusive romantic relationship (physically, sexually, and verbally), past physical parental abuse, sex and alcohol mentions, general angst (but happy ending)

Words: 4136

Tag list:

@touchstarvedvirgil

@lamp-calm-sanders

@ninjago2020

@confinesofpersonalknowledge

@secret-novelisthost18

@phander-sides

@sherlock-lives-on-bakerstreet

Damien woke up and slowly sat up, wincing when he put pressure on his wrist. He looked down and frowned at the dark bruises forming. He looked over at the perpetrator who was lying right next to him.

What was more unsettling than the bruises was the writing underneath them. God, what Damien wouldn't give to be rid of the writing.

Damien smiled at his boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully as Damien brushed a strand of hair from his face. Damien then stretched his arms before standing to show before classes.

The writing was from his soulmates. And no, his boyfriend wasn't one of them. It should have made him feel guilty, dating someone who wasn't his soulmate. But it didn't.

The writing was his first hint to for finding his soulmates. One received their first hint at fifteen, and being able to see what one's soulmate wrote on their skin was the most common hint. It allowed them to communicate with their soulmate, but there were limits. To encourage them meeting more naturally, information like location or full names wouldn't show up for the other person.

As Damien turned on the hot water, he thought back to the night before his fifteenth birthday and how terrified he had been.

He had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours - trying to fall asleep but sleep refusing to come.

He didn't want a soulmate. He wanted nothing to do with whoever the universe decided to pair him up with. He was fine in his solitude and preferred it stayed that way.

Painfully, time slowly crawled on. Damien eventually admitted he wasn't going to sleep. He glanced at the clock and winced when he read it was two minutes till twelve. So for two agonizing minutes, Damien watched the clock.

The clock struck twelve, and Damien held his breath and waited.

Nothing.

But that didn't help calm Damien's nerves. His soulmate could be asleep. Or maybe he was older than his soulmate and he would have to wait months or years until his soulmate could write back.

He couldn't be certain about his soulmate or lack thereof for a long time.

But with nothing he could do now, exhaustion finally washed over him and he fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning, Damien grimaced as his alarm blared for school. He hit the snooze button and promised himself "only five more minutes" (it was never just five minutes).

But that's when he noticed an unfamiliar tingling sensation on his arm. He held up his right arm and opened his eyes, and he swore his heart stopped.

Damien had been hoping he was part of the small percentage that didn't have a soulmate, but it turns out he was part of the even smaller percentage to have more than one.

He stared in horror as he watched large, bubbly, light blue handwriting converse with a small, precise, navy handwriting on his right arm.

He didn't go to school that day. He faked sick, and the paleness of his face was enough to trick his foster parents into believing him.

As he watched the writing travel farther down his arm, he almost felt that he was intruding. But he couldn't tear his eyes away. The light blue writing, who referred to themself as P, seemed so kind while L, the navy, seemed so grounded and secure.

Damien hated it.

He didn't want this. He didn't want to be forced into a life with these strangers. He didn't want to force anyone else to deal with him. But he was scared he didn't have a choice.

The thought made him so upset he barely made it to the bathroom before actually getting sick. After it passed, he sat against the wall for a moment before breaking down in tears.

This was too much. Why would the universe make him endure something so painful?

Then and there was when he Damien decided he would do his best to make sure his soulmates never knew he existed. Let them live in ignorant bliss. They'd be better off without him. And the fact that he had two soulmates made the decision easier. They had each other, so he wouldn't be forcing someone to live without a soulmate. They could live their lives happily together.

Damien was extra careful to never mark on his skin. He even went so far as to no longer put on makeup or nail polish. That part was painful. Makeup was his passion, and he been wanting to go to school to practice it. So he convinced his foster sister to let him practice on her sometimes, though those times were few and far between. But beggers couldn't be choosers.

Damien snapped back into the present by his boyfriend banging on the bathroom door and yelling at him to hurry up. Damien yelled back that he'd be out soon.

Jackson was a first. It was a miracle Jackson even tolerated him.

Jackson had approached Damien in one of their classes, and Damien was immediately smitten. No one had taken interest in him before.

Jackson took Damien out that night and Damien swore there was an instant connection.

Jackson didn't have a soulmate and he had assumed Damien didn't either when he accepted Jackson's invitation to go out. Damien hesitantly told him he did, but he wanted nothing to do with them. Jackson was angry at first, but eventually calmed down.

It was generally frowned upon to date someone else when you had a soulmate, but Damien liked Jackson. He got to choose Jackson.

As Damien continued to get ready for classes, he tried to push the thoughts of his soulmates aside. But with his twentieth birthday tomorrow, he couldn't stop worrying. As time goes on without one meeting their soulmate, they will sometimes receive another hint on one of their birthdays. The amount of hints one gets and the time between receiving them depends on the people and when they are destined to meet. Hints will get more and more drastic as the universe grows more and more desparate for them to meet. Once they meet, however, all but the first hint they received will disappear.

Damien didn't know his soulmate's birthdays, but he wasn't worried about getting a hint on their birthdays. They had actually been communicating with each other, so they probably weren't the unviverse's concern.

He was.

Since Damien refused to even acknowledge his soulmates, he was at high risk for a new hint.

Damien knew this. Jackson knew this. They both ignored it.

Damien kissed Jackson goodbye before leaving for school. They didn't leave too far from campus, so Damien usually didn't bother spending money on bus fare.

Damien felt the familiar tingle on his wrist and he pulled his sleeve further down his arm. He always wore long sleeves and pants, even when the heat was unbearable. He didn't want to look at the writing. He didn't want anyone else to see.

But before he covered his wrist, Damien got a glimpse of red handwriting.

Around seven months after Damien's fifteenth birthday, he woke up to the familiar tingling on his arm. P had found out when L woke up and was adamant to wake up before them to write a good morning message everyday. Damien rarely ever read what L and P said to each other, but that morning something caught his eye.

There on his wrist was 'Hello! Am I lucky enough to be able to talk to my soulmate?' in large, messy, red cursive.

"No," Damien had thought. "This can't be happening."

He had three???

'Hello!' P wrote back.

'It's so wonderful to finally be able to talk to you.' the red ink wrote. 'I've been waiting for this for so long.'

'Oh my gosh this is incredible!! L, we have another soulmate!!!'

'I see that.' L wrote. 'This is most unexpected.'

'Am I really so lucky to have two soulmates?' the red ink wrote.

‘It seems so.’ L replied.

'Since we can't say our names, we refer to each other by the first letter. I'm P and the other is L!'

'I'm R, then. I can't express how ecstatic I am to meet you both.'

Damien yanked his pajama sleeve back down. WHile he could still feel the tingling go further down his arm, it was easier to ignore when he couldn't see it.

He fell back onto his bed, stared at the ceiling, pushed his pillow into his face, and screamed.

Since then it had been even harder tohide the markings on his body. P would doodle on the palms of their hand and R would write out long monologues on one arm while L solved math problems on the other.

The worst was when R and L would start debating and writing would cover every inch of skin they could find until P made them find a middle ground.

Damien snapped himself back to the present as he walked into his biology class. He already hated bio, so no need to make it worse by sulking over his soulmates.

The morning went by slowly and regularly. Afternoon came and Damien texted Jackson to see if he wanted to meet for lunch. Jackson texted back saying he was out with friends but he'd see him tonight.

That was fine. Damien was glad Jackson had such good friends. He just wished this didn't happen so often.

As Damien ate his lunch he noticed that P and the purple writing were drawing on their hands again. Damien rolled his eyes and quickly finished eating before fishing his gloves out of his backpack.

Damien had to buy gloves after the purple handwriting showed up as they loved to doodle on their hands, and P would often join in and make Damien's hands a mess of purple and light blue.

A little more than four months after R made their first appearance, Damien was awake taking off layers and layers of makeup. He had stayed up late (again) to practice.

A couple of weeks ago R said they had to put on a lot of theatrical makeup for a play, and was wondering if it showed up on the others. When L and P confirmed that none did, Damien was ecstatic. He immediately pushed himself away from the dinner table and went up to his bedroom (he was lucky this foster family didn't make him share a room with his foster siblings) to experiment with his makeup again.

Damien glanced at the clock and saw it was almost one in the morning. He wasn't too concerned, though, since it was summer and he could sleep in as long as he wanted.

Once the clock hit one he felt tingling on his arm again. The others were rarely awake this late, so curiousity got the better of him and he glanced down to see what on earth they had to say.

'Hello?'

Damien stopped breathing. That wasn't P. Or L. Or R. This was new handwriting. Tiny but tall letters in purple ink.

Two soulmates was a rarity. Three was unheard of. So what the fuck was he doing with four???

Damien's eyes bored into the mirror as he removed the remaining makeup off his face. He quickly brushed his teeth and changed into pajamas before falling into a dreamless sleep.

Damien woke up late the next morning, but he still felt exhausted. He glanced down at his arms and found them both covered in writing. Damien just knew the rest of his body was covered, and to confirm it felt tingling on his left shin.

He showed with his eyes closed, desperate to avoid looking anymore at the cacophony of foreign handwriting on his skin. But when he opened his eyes to get out, he couldn't ignore the text just covering his body. Smothering him. Yelling at him.

Damien ran into the bedroom and threw clothes on while still soaking wet.

He didn't want to see anything from the purple handwriting. He knew too much about the other strangers already. He didn't want to know anything about this new person. He didn't even want a letter to refer to them by.

Though ignoring the text got harder with four people writing, Damien got good at it, just as the others had gotten good at fitting blocks of text together like tetris pieces.

Back in the present, Damien was getting sick of flashbacks.

When Damien's school day had ended and he was back at the apartment, he sent Jackson a selfie to let him know he was home. Jackson was so protective, he didn't like Damien going anywhere without his permission. One of the ways Jackson proved he loved him.

Not that Damien had any real reference, though.

His mother was abusive and neglectful and his father was never around. He was barraged everyday by words telling him how much of a burden he was. How everything would be easier if he wasn't around. After his mother beat him she'd scream how weak and worthless he was.

School was never any better. He was immediately an outcast. Having very visible vitiligo on his face weirded out the younger kids who didn't know better.

As they got older and his classmates understood what vitiligo was, the damage had already been done. Any second changes his classmates would give him quickly disappeared. He was too mean, too vicious. He was quick to start fights and slow to forgive.

Attempts were made to counsel him and try to find the root of his behavioral problems, but his mother promised him that if he dared snitch about his homelife, he wouldn't see tomorrow.

So counseling attempts were made in vain. He was labelled a problem child and that day forward his teachers were given warnings whenever they were stuck with him in their class.

Child protective services finally took him away in middle school when Damien went to school with bruises around his neck after his mom tried to strangle him in a drunken rage. He was passed from foster family to foster family, never lasting long in one house. He wouldn't get along with his foster siblings. He disobeyed his caretakers. His foster parents didn't knw what to do when he'd wake up screaming, begging for his mom to let go of him. He was too mean. Too troubled. Too distrusting.

By high school he had finally mellowed out, but the damage was irreversible. He understood that he was on his own and it was detrimental to trust anyone too easily. But since he calmed down, he was finally left alone from counselors and teachers. And to everyone's surprise, he managed to excel in his classes, even managing to get a scholarship to a school that let him study theatrical makeup. Even better was that it was out of state, meaning he would never have to see any of the people he grew up with again.

Damien hadn't expected to fall in love, but then he met Jackson. Jackson was the first person to love him. And with him, Damien thought he couldn't be happier.

Damien started to feel a bit anxious as he waited for Jackson to get home. He wanted to ask about his birthday, and either Jackson would agree to spend the weekend with him, or he'd go and get boozed up with friends, leaving Damien to deal with the fallout.

But it was his birthday. Surely Jackson wouldn't leave him alone.

Jackson came home later than expected. He was doing that a lot these days.

"Hi, babe," Damien said as he greeted him at the door. He smiled as Jackson pulled him into a kiss.

"Hey yourself," Jackson muttered against Damien's lips.

They separated for a moment but Jackson pulled Damien right back. Damien's mouth twitched in a small smile.

"Do you have plans this weekend?" Damien asked as Jackson led him back to their shared bedroom.

"Yeah," Jackson replied. "Me and a couple guys are going out of town."

Damien's heart cracked in his chest as he tried to figure out what to say.

"Well, my birthday is this Sunday," Damien said slowly. "I was hoping we could spend it together."

Damien knew that Jackson would usually get angry when he tried to contradict his plans, but he took this chance since there was no way Jackson could get angry about Damien's birthday without coming off as a huge jerk.

"Shit, Damien," Jackson sighed. "I completely forgot."

That didn't bother Damien. Not at all.

"I can't cancel on the guys, but I promise I'll make it up to you," Jackson said as he pulled Damien in for a kiss. "I'll make it up to you every night," he muttered as he moved his lips to Damien's neck.

Damien shuttered. Sex with Damien was rough. Jackson took what he wanted without making sure Damien was okay and that he wanted it as well. He focused on pleasuring only himself, sometimes leaving Damien to finish himself off.

While Damien had a slight sense that this wasn't okay, he ignored it. What did he know? He didn't have experience with this. And he liked feeling needed. He liked feeling wanted.

He ignored the small voice that told him he was just being used.

"Okay," Damien said as Jackson let go of him.

When Damien woke up the next morning, Jackson was gone. He briefly entertained the idea of going out himself, but he knew that Jackson would want regular upates from him along with photos of him by the clock.

So Damien tried to have a lazy day. He made breakfast then watched beauty guru drama on YouTube. He ordered takeout for lunch and ordered extra so he wouldn't have to cook dinner. He practiced makeup again and gave himself a manicure. He went through these tasks trying to act like everything was fine, but inside he was panicking. His panic only grew throughout the day as the hours crawled closer to midnight.

Come eleven that night, Damien was a mess. He paced around his bedroom, trying not to pick at his newly manicured nails. He wanted to call Jackson but knew he would just be mad if he interrupted his night out.

His mind raced about what hints he could get. Ideally he wouldn't get one, but the chances of him not getting hints grew smaller as the years went on. If he had to get one, he hoped it was something similar to the one he had now. One that would be easy to avoid, though he doubed the universe would be so merciful.

Over the last five years, Damien had read up on as many hints as he could find. Feeling each other’s pain would be hard, but not completely undoable. Occasionally feeling each other’s emotions is one he couldn’t avoid. Initials on your wrist, or any tattoo hint, would be dead giveaways. Being able to see and talk to each other in dreams would be the worst, but that’s a last resort one. Surely that wouldn’t happen to him (yet).

The hour before midnight went by too slowly and too quickly at the same time. When midnight finally came he froze and waited. He waited until it was ten past twelve. While there was nothing immediate, that didn’t mean he was off the hook. The hint could still be there, they just hadn’t triggered it yet.

Damien sighed as he turned onto his stomach. He was about to go to sleep when suddenly he knew what his new hint was.

Oh, god, no! He shouldn't be getting this drastic of a hint so soon!

Damien had read about this hint, but it was so rare he didn't even consider it a possibility. This hint allows one to see through their soulmate's eyes for a few moments up to a few minutes. But the universe was always careful, only letting people see moments it thought they needed to see, so they didn't have to worry about their soulmate seeing something embarrassing or pointless.

One was always alerted before the hint was triggered, allowing them to sit down and prepare themself. But it also alerted the person they would be observing, meaning whoever Damien was about to see through was going to know they had another soulmate.

Damien grit his teeth as the world went white. Suddenly he wasn't in his room anymore. He was lying in a bed that wasn't his bed. It was dark, and whoever he was looking through had someone asleep on their right with an arm wrapped around their waist.

The person took a shaky breath.

"Hello," the stranger whispered. There was a moment of silence as someone next to them shifted. They looked over and Damien could see that there was not just on person in bed with them, but three.

The stranger made sure the others were still asleep before carefully getting out of bed. They made their way out the door and quietly shut it behind them. They stumbled in the dark towards the living rom and sat down on the end of the couch, flipping on the table lamp to bask the room in a faint yellow glow.

"My name is Patton," the person whispered as they pulled their legs up onto the couch. "I'm one of your soulmates. It must be your birthday. Happy birthday."

Patton looked down at his lap and started tracing the pattern on his pajama pants.

"I never would have thought I'd have a fourth soulmate," Patton whispered. "But I'm happy."

"You've never written to us. We had no idea you existed."

"That was the point," Damien thought.

"But that's okay. I know about you now."

Damien grit his teeth. Patton shouldn't be so nice about this. Patton needed to be angry! Patton needed to hate him! It would make this whole thing easier if he did.

"I don't understand why you've never written back," Patton whispered as his finger moved down his pants leg. "But I want you to know I'm not angry. I'm confused, and admittedly a bit overwhelmed, but I'm not angry. I want you to know you're safe with us. I don't know what situation you're in, or what you're thinking right now, but you're safe here."

Damien gripped the sheets as he tried to fight back the tears welling in his eyes.

"I wish I knew your name. Do you think after this you could try to write it to me? Maybe since we have a second hint it will let me see your name. You don't have to, but it'd be nice."

Damien knew he woudn't.

"I hope you're not in trouble," Patton sniffled. That's when tears fell and Patton went to wipe his eyes. "I wish I knew how to help you."

Patton took another shaky breath before continuing. "This might sound crazy to you, but I already really care about you. I cared about the others as soon as they first wrote to me. And now I care about you, too."

They both were alerted in their minds that their time "together" would soon be over. Patton sighed.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm going to tell them. I think it's important they know. But don't worry. I'm sure they'll be as excited as I am. I hope you decide to write to us soon, and I'm looking forward to the next time we get to talk."

Then Damien was back in his bedroom.

He immediately started crying. He grabbed Jackson's pillow and pulled it to his face as his crying turned into messy sobs.

They know. After years of carefully making sure they didn't know about him, he was outed not even by his own choice.

He couldn't breath. He pushed Jackson's pillow away from him and forced himself to sit up. He knew he was having a panic attack. He'd had them before. He just didn't know how to stop it.

He gripped the sheets and tried to force himself to breathe normally, but between the tears still falling down his face and his rapid heartbeat he couldn't get himself to do so.

After a few agonizing minutes, he was finally able to take in a fairly deep breath. After that, breathing just got easier and easier. He squeezed his eyes shut and let the tears fall freely as he got his breathing back to normal.

Once his crying devolved into silent tears, Damien laid back down. Exhaustion hit him as he settled under the blankets, desperate for sleep.

He felt tingling on the back of his hand and looked to see that Patton had drawn a heart in his familiar light blue ink.

Damien didn't take his eyes off it until he fell asleep.

(That was chapter 1! Thanks for reading! Chapter 2 is scheduled to be posted tomorrow, Jan 8 2020)

227 notes · View notes

ragnarachael · 5 years ago

Text

I Love You. So Much.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Sister!Reader, Tony Stark x Parker!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k (5,528 to be exact)

Summary: The Parker's were well acquainted with loss and grief. First with their parents, then their Uncle Ben, and now Tony Stark.

Peter doesn't take into account how long he's actually gone until he comes back from The Blip and learns you, his sister, and Tony Stark had a whole life together. It's then he thinks, yeah, he deserves another five year nap. (request)

Author’s Ramblings: this took a hot minute. i’m sorry about that. but you asked for angst.. thou shalt receive it. this fic is actually one of my favorites, after pouring a lot into it, as well as it being very cathartic in some ways to write. it’s weirdly.. personal to me? i’m not going to sit and ramble about my grief i’ve been dealing with for the past year, but this fic kinda wraps it all up in a neat little bow in some weird ass ways. anywho. enjoy!

Warnings: ANGST! ENDGAME ANGST! DEATH! SADNESS! FUNERALS! LOTSA TALK ABOUT AND DESCRIPTIONS OF GRIEF! IF YOU CAN’T STOMACH THIS KINDA STUFF, I RECOMMEND SKIPPING OVER IT!

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK ! AO3 LINK !

Coming back to life from the dead at the age of 16. Peter didn’t know if that was cool or traumatizing.

First he was dust, and now? Now he’s in the middle of a fight—that he arrived in through a sparkling ring of some kind of magic—five years later, walking around like he’s a newborn baby deer in his Iron Spider suit.

Were you okay? Was May okay? What the hell was going on, and why the hell was everything destroyed?

“My favorite young adult!” Tony exclaimed tiredly after blasting a few aliens.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter exclaimed happily, falling right into Tony’s open arms for a tight hug. He allowed himself to take a breather from the fighting he was thrown into once he felt Tony’s arms around him.

The hug was short, but held what felt like all the love in the world Tony had to give.

“Did I miss anything cool?” Peter questioned quickly, jolting when he saw who he could only assume was Pepper in a blue version of the Iron Man suit. Peter at that moment wondered if he could get a potential upgrade from his Spider suit to something more... Iron Man-esque.

Not -- Not that the Iron Spider suit wasn’t Iron Man-y enough for him, he just wanted a bit more of a consistent color scheme. Maybe even a set of colors that could be his own brand—

“You’re back,” Tony started as they pulled apart from the hug quickly, clapping his hands on Peter’s shoulders. “That’s the cool part.”

Peter cooed in thanks, talking for a few more moments with Tony before he threw himself back into the battle.

He didn’t see much of Tony after that. He met with a few other teammates that he hadn’t seen before. He even got to hold the gauntlet for a minute until he was curled up behind a bunch of rubble, hiding from gunfire before meeting Captain Marvel.

That was cool as shit.

However, what was not cool as shit was watching Tony sacrifice himself.

His whole right side was singed from the gauntlet. Completely. His breathing was shallow, and Peter was hyperventilating as Pepper helped him get to Tony to say his goodbyes.

His goodbyes. He didn’t want that. Peter wanted everything but that.

Tony Stark was not dead. He wasn’t dying.

But as Pepper helped him trudge to his mentor in the rubble of the battlefield, not even his mind could trick him into thinking everything was okay.

Peter was sure that this wouldn’t be happening right now if Tony didn’t end up with the gauntlet.

Tony would still be alive, and he’d be able to catch him up on what he missed after five years of being dead. He was supposed to live and be fine.

Yet, Tony Stark had to be the hero and wear the gauntlet before snapping.

Peter was crying over Tony’s barely breathing body. He hadn’t cried like this since Ben’s birthday rolled around who knows how long ago now. It was convulsing, heaving sobs that pained him to even inhale. He’s shocked he even spoke.

Pepper started to gently coax him away into Rhodey’s arms, and that’s when Peter realized he didn't want to leave. He didn’t want to leave his mentor like this. Just... alone. In the rubble while he barely fights for his life. He wanted to rewind the past hour of fighting just to change the outcome of today. He wanted to pull himself from Rhodey’s arms while Pepper was the last person to talk with him. He wanted to talk with Tony. Joke with him one last time. Not have a conversation about the fight, not even think about what all happened.

Peter Parker just wanted one last meaningful conversation with Tony Stark.

And now? He’ll never get that.

The rest of the day was a blur after that. Peter was quiet, kept to himself as he curled into the neon orange blanket someone gave him. It reminded him of some show you forced him to watch a few years back, but he couldn’t be bothered to think about the title. Peter couldn’t be bothered to think about anything period. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t care.

Tony Stark was dead. And there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

Someone was nice enough to bring him home to May in a nice cabin upstate. He assumed that someone was Pepper, from the gentle conversation she was trying to have with him when May flung the door open and pulled Peter into her arms the second she saw him.

The tension that slipped off his shoulders when he got into her arms made all the difference. He could feel his eyes start to sting with tears again, pressing his face into May’s cardigan that his head was rested on.

He couldn’t focus on anything but the low hum of Pepper’s voice and the ringing in his ears.

Peter’s head moved a little when he heard Pepper speak your name. He breathed out a shaky sigh of relief.

You were okay. You were safe.

May’s hands were comforting as she rubbed Peter’s back through the blanket. That’s when he noticed that someone was kind enough to peel him out of the Iron-Spider suit.

“I just have to pass the news on to her,” Pepper reasoned softly after pressing a quick kiss to Peter’s head. “She deserves to know.”

May was quick to direct Pepper to where you were located in the cabin, sniffling as she spoke and gestured to somewhere on her right.

Peter said your name softly. Almost tearfully, asking for you like he did when he was a bit younger and had bad nightmares. Before Tony Stark’s death. Before he was burdened with being Spider-Man.

Before he had to grow up.

“Pepper’s talking with her right now, sweetheart,” May reassured softly, looking down at Peter’s bruised and scraped face. “Do you want to lay down?”

Peter didn’t hesitate to nod into May’s chest. He heard her coo before they took their time going up the nice wooden steps, hearing Pepper’s voice travel once they were on the landing of the second level.

“No, no. Pep, you’re lying to me,” you demanded, successfully cutting her off as your hands flew to grab the back of the office chair you must have gotten out of. Your nervous laughter was followed by creaking of the floorboards.

Peter made May stop so he could listen, trying to get a peek in again.

“I wish I was—“

“You don’t need to wish,” you spat. Your knuckles were white from your tight grip before you moved to push the chair under the desk a little too rough for it to be considered normal, “because you are. You are lying to me, Pepper. My husband is still out there. He’s still alive. Tony’s just being overdramatic again and he’s going to walk through the front door—”

Pepper was quick to place her hands on your shoulders to calm your angry rambling substantially in that moment. She spoke your name gently, her own voice starting to shake from emotion before continuing.

“Tony didn’t make it.”

It wasn’t rocket science to know that every bit of you shattered then when you fell into Pepper’s arms, her words finally starting to set in. You had put up a good fight trying to ignore the truth. But in the end, you accepted it. Peter could hear you shaking with sobs much like he had just a mere handful of hours ago, just over Tony’s body.

Peter was starting to panic. His mind completely skipped over the title you had used for Tony, glancing up at May with bloodshot eyes. She didn’t need to have Peter speak before guiding him into the office you and Pepper were in, clearing her throat softly to get Pepper’s attention.

Her gaze fixed on Peter as he started to pull from May’s arms, trying to carefully walk over to where you stood.

“C-Can I—“

“Pete, I don’t think—“

The words in Pepper’s throat died when your head moved from her chest, the instance when you heard his name. Seeing your baby brother all beaten and bruised from the battle Tony had warned you about nights ago was almost as painful as the news you were trying to process.

It was supposed to end better than this. It was supposed to end happier, your mind screamed. You were supposed to be hugging Tony right now. Crying tears of joy with the small family you’d made together.

And it’s all been blown to shit.

After a few beats of silence, you left Pepper’s arms immediately to hug Peter into your chest, still shaking from your onslaught of tears.

Your baby brother. Your stupid, stupid baby brother who dragged himself into this mess willingly was okay. Well, for the most part. He was a victim of The Blip, after all.

Peter didn’t mind his face being crushed against your shoulder for the first time in his 16 years of living. He clung to you as tight as he humanly could, starting to bawl again himself.

You were just relieved to see Peter in one piece.

Pepper and May had talked for a few moments while you held Peter’s face in your hands. You let out a wet chuckle at the neon blanket wrapped around him as you let your thumbs swipe just under his eyes to catch the tears that were pouring out.

“Y-You.. You look like Sherlock.”

Peter couldn’t stop the hoarse laughter that left his throat when his mind made the connection from earlier thoughts. “I thought the s-same thing.”

You scanned his face. Once you were pleased with what you saw, you didn’t hesitate to press a long kiss to a clean part of his forehead before squeezing the life out of him again. More tears continued coming from your closed eyes before you started rocking the two of you back and forth, feeling Peter’s breathing hitch like a hiccup against your shirt.

You felt another pair of arms around you then, another head laying on your free shoulder. You cracked an eye open only to see May trying to keep it together as she hugged the both of you at once.

The three of you stayed like this for what felt like a while. At least until the sobbing was contained and you could actually see past all of your tears.

Numb. That’s a feeling you and Peter shared. However, you weren’t numb enough to avoid your sudden urge to give Peter a little chewing out. You were quick to pull him from your chest and held him at arm’s distance.

“You’re.. You’re so goddamn stupid, Peter—”

“I know.”

“You should have just gone to MOMA—”

“I know,” Peter stressed, whining slightly to cut you off. “Can I please get chewed out later? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you.”

You felt your face contort into a mixture of emotions from his words before pulling him into your chest one last time. May had finally let you go after you pulled Peter back in, planting a kiss to the back of your head.

“We’re talking about this later, Peter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled loudly against your tear stained shirt before he pulled away from you.

You did one last once over on him, seeing Peter in his messy glory and neon blanket in one piece. You breathed out a sigh of relief before taking a moment to put yourself together, thankful for your equally tearful reunion with May to have already been done.

“Well, uh,” you started, waving around the office, “make yourself at home. I’ve--I’ve got to track down Pepper—”

“She’s with Morgan,” May butted in softly, causing you to look over your shoulder at her. “Go. We’ll be in the guest room.”

You couldn’t help the small smile fighting it’s way to your lips before giving May a quick hug, leaving after kissing them both on the cheek.

“Morgan?” Peter questioned quietly as he wracked his brain to think of a mutual friend with the same name. May let out a soft sigh and shook her head, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders to guide him out of the office.

“She’ll explain it later, sweetheart.”

Later came two days after Pepper brought Peter to the cabin’s doorstep.

The morning of Tony’s funeral.

Peter was thankful for the 48 hours everyone was given to try and process what’s happened. During those 48 hours, he’s done nothing but sleeping. It was a wonderful coping mechanism for the time being.

While he was awake, he came across Morgan several times. Sometimes she was playing with a bunch of toys in the den with you or May. Other times she’s sitting on the couch and happily watching a Pixar film.

Morgan was the cutest little girl he’s ever seen. She reminded him of Tony in so many ways, but he also saw bits of someone else in her. He was too tired to try and place who.

Peter didn’t catch the time, but he caught you starting a pot of coffee in what looked like a Black Sabbath shirt and leggings in the kitchen.

“Hey,” he called out gently so you weren’t startled, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You didn’t jump and continued wrestling with the coffee pot.

“Morning to you too,” you grumble quietly, gently smacking the filter compartment and making a mental note to get a new coffee maker. Peter slid his hands into his flannel pajama pockets, padding into the large kitchen.

While you let out a long sigh, pressing the start button on the side of the coffee machine and running your hands over your tired face, Peter took the time to take in the open concept kitchen.

It looked.. Amazing. Almost exactly like you described when you talked about the kind of kitchen you wanted years ago.

“Why are you up at five in the morning, Peter?” You questioned gently, turning around to face your brother. Peter looked like a deer in headlights, squinting at the numbers on the stove only to see that yes, it was five in the morning.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Makes sense,” you replied, moving to the fridge, “usually you’re up around 1. Are you hungry now or can you wait until Morgan and May or up?”

“I can wait,” Peter said. His brain was shouting at him to say yes, since he’d been asleep for what felt like years, but he pushed his hunger aside. “I tried asking May how you ended up here, and uh—”

“It wasn’t because of The Blip, if that’s what she told you,” you said, now standing in an awkward position between the kitchen’s island and the fridge. “I came willingly.”

You let out a chuckle at that, Peter barely cracking a smile.

“She told me to ask you what happened. That it wasn’t her place,” he continued, moving to pull out one of the stools on the opposite end of the counter before eyeing the fruit basket. You sighed and finished the short journey to the fridge, grabbing two sticks of string cheese from the crisper, shutting the door with your hip.

Without any hesitation, you tossed one stick at him once you stood across from him at the island. “What else did you try to get her to say?”

Peter was quick to catch the stick before it hit his face, sputtering on his words for a moment. “What? What do you mean?”

“You and I know how you get, Pete,” you started, peeling the plastic from your cheese stick as you spoke, “when you want to find something out you go poking.”

Peter scoffed nervously, starting to open his cheese stick.

“No I don’t—”

“Yes, you do.” You pinched some of the cheese on the edge of your stick and slowly peeled it off into a single string before opening your mouth. Peter pouted down at his occupied hands. He hated when you’re right.

You carried on elaborating while he zoned out, starting to make a sudden connection after he watched you speak, eyes drifting to the hefty ring on your finger.

“You married him?”

If you weren’t in the middle of pulling more cheese into string, you would have choked.

Well, you did choke. On your own spit, actually. You shimmied the half eaten cheese stick back into it’s plastic to place it on the counter top. After taking a few moments to try and keep your breathing even and not burst into tears, you spoke up.

“Yes.”

“You.. You finally married Tony?” Peter rephrased slowly. “When?”

“In the fall,” you recounted easily, now looking down at your ring as you felt your eyes tear up. “A while after your birthday. August 24th.”

“Just like you always talked about,” Peter said with a bit of a smile now, tearing his cheese in half. You cleared your throat and turned to check on the coffee pot that started to sputter.

“Y-Yeah. You would have loved the ceremony—”

“How many years?”

“Three. I found out I was pregnant with Morgan after we.. we lost.” Your throat was tightening and you hated that feeling. So in turn, you decided to busy yourself making your usual cup of coffee.

While you were shuffling around, Peter’s head was reeling as he took in those words. He could easily place some of Morgan’s mannerisms in you after playing with her for the first time, he just blocked it out. Was it because part of him didn’t want to believe that his mentor was his brother-in-law?

Most probably, yes. His mind made the memory of when he found out the two of you were officially dating flash before his eyes. He shook it off casually and realized that meant he’s also an uncle. Uncle Peter.

His heart swelled.

“Do you want coffee or anything, Peter?” You asked kindly, trying to focus on your coffee ratio in the mug you had picked out from the drying rack.

“I’ll take chocolate milk?”

You cracked a smile. “Check the bottom shelf.”

Peter all but flew out of his seat, rushing to the fridge and grabbing the half gallon jug of chocolate milk that had yet to be opened. He let out a far too happy groan and moved to open the jug officially.

“If you’re drinking Morgan’s chocolate milk, you gotta get a cup. You’re not drinking straight from the jug,” you said sternly, already shoving a glass Peter’s way with a stern look. “She will kick you.”

Peter’s glee didn’t diminish like you thought it would when you told him that before you both got your drinks and sat back at the counter top, starting to converse until the sun was hung up in the sky properly and you had to get cooking breakfast.

May didn’t hesitate to pop in and help you cook while Peter decided to entertain Morgan. You were thankful they weren’t trying to find a new apartment to live in yet. You don’t think you could handle the house with just you and Morgan. Not yet.

It didn’t really hit you that today was the funeral until you went to answer the door and was greeted with Pepper, who had a bag on her shoulder, and Happy.

Needless to say, once you guided them to the kitchen and told them what you’d made for breakfast, you needed a moment to yourself and excused yourself to your room.

You knew what was in that bag. And you didn’t want to see what was recorded. Seeing pictures of Tony only made you want to curl into a tight ball in your bed and just sob for the rest of the day. But you needed to stay strong. For Morgan.

After the cry break you had in your room, you had started to get your breathing back under control when you heard a gentle knock on the door. You didn’t do anything but stare at the hardwood.

Your heart wished it was Tony, who was coming in to take the pain away. You hated the fact that you only wanted to cry more when you saw May enter and shut the door behind her. It’s almost like she knew something was wrong when she walked in. You started to cry again and she was quick to gather you into her arms so you could cry a bit more before having to do the unimaginable.

When your crying was subdued to sniffles, May informed you that Pepper was happy to clean up breakfast, and Happy and Peter kept Morgan company.

You let yourself stay in pieces for a while longer in May’s arms before hyping yourself up to face the day. When the others started to all arrive for the day, you kept your cool for the most part. You greeted everyone with a small, kind smile, occasionally sharing some tears after some hugs with certain guests.

The plan for the day was to properly say goodbye to Tony before having a small shindig of some kind. Tony wouldn’t want everyone to be a sobbing mess due to his death. You know that for a fact thanks to a late night conversation before trying to do this stupid time traveling idea. He wanted people to be sad, yes, but not let them dwell on that feeling and celebrate him without all the tears.

You felt like you weren’t keeping his promise with how much you’d been crying for the past three days straight since you’ve been told about his passing, but you pushed past that to try and focus on what you needed to get done.

The video he left was heartbreaking to watch. You held Morgan tight to your side as you listened and watched the recording of your late husband with tears threatening to spill the entire time. You, Rhodey, Pepper, Steve, and Happy were in the den, watching the hologram speak.

After that, it actually felt like he was with you the whole time. From the moment the recording was over to the second you and Morgan eased the wreath Pepper made into the water of the lake around on the back end of the cabin. It was reassuring in ways you hadn’t expected it to be.

All in all, it was really a beautiful ceremony with all of Tony’s friends and colleagues. You couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to attend.

Eventually, everyone filed back inside while Pepper, May, and Clint’s wife, Laura, insisted on handling the rest of the day for you to just relax. You tried to ignore their shooing when you started to help, letting out some laughter when May started to usher you out of your own kitchen.

You really had no choice but to relax, and to you that felt like a dangerous option you were given.

The first thing you did was try to look for Morgan and spend more time with her, but she was conversing with Happy on one of the benches in the back porch. She seemed so enthralled with the conversation. You assumed she was talking to him about her adventures in her tent, since they hadn’t seen each other in a few months. You decided she could be with Happy for the day, not wanting to disturb the sense of peace it gave you, seeing your daughter so happy.

A smile was settled on your face when you turned back around from the window you looked through to find Morgan, only to come face to face with Stephen and a glass of what looked like iced tea. You gasped before laughing at your sudden shock, before taking the glass.

“Thanks, Strange.”

“Anytime,” he replied evenly before standing next to you. You assumed it was for company, which you were thankful for. However, you’ve only talked to the man once and that was when he swooped in and took Tony when you were trying to have a walk around Central Park years ago.

Your hand slowly brought the glass to your lips as you looked at all of the people your husband knew, letting out a soft sigh. You noticed Peter talking with Harley and couldn’t help but crack a smile. They both seemed a bit melancholic as they conversed, but you could tell they were getting along great. That’s all you could ask for.

Finally, you took a sip of the tea and masked your surprise when you realized that it was spiked. Spiked iced tea. Honestly, you didn’t mind. You turned your head after you swallowed, eyeing Stephen cautiously.

“How much did you add to this?”

“Pepper only put in a splash. She said it was to get you to relax, and I agreed,” Stephen explained as he lifted his drink for a sip before sending a teasing wink your way, “doctor’s orders.”

You snorted probably too hard from that joke. You admired Stephen for his previous profession, even if he was like Tony. Stubborn, an occasional egomaniac, and charming. Thankfully, you knew your way around that type of person. Shaking your head, you moved to place the glass on the window sill, not wanting to take in too much “iced tea” just yet.

“Last time you and I talked you needed Tony for something.”

“Yes.”

“What do you need from me now?”

Stephen let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Nothing.”

You give him a skeptical look then, crossing your arms high on your chest to know you weren’t messing around. Stephen gave you a sincere look.

“I’m serious. I’m here to give you my condolences, as well as some company,” Stephen explained, “we both know that we’re not good at this kind of.. thing. And I’m also here to say that if you ever need any help, I can be of service. And Wong, if need be.”

Shock was displayed on your face as he just casually called you out on you not wanting to mingle. Your arms stayed crossed as your eyes scanned and tried to see if you could detect anything in his body language that could mean he’s just lying straight to your face. You found none. Nothing. Zip. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Stephen responded, placing his glass next to yours now. “Tony.. Tony was an integral piece of the puzzle to make all this happen. I’m indebted to him, in a way.”

“So you’re blaming yourself for his death?” You hated how blunt you put it. It made the both of you wince. Regardless, Stephen seemed to hesitate before nodding, grabbing his glass to take a big sip. You finally let your arms fall back to your sides, smoothing out some of your dress.

You stood in silence with Stephen, trying to digest this whole conversation.

You supposed it would be helpful to befriend a sorcerer.

“Would you be willing to watch Morgan some time? I.. I might need to take a few extra hours at work with Pepper to get things sorted.” It wasn’t totally a lie. You did want to take up extra hours at Stark Industries so you could sort out any messes before they became known, but you wanted to see what he’d say.

Stephen took a long sip again before pulling his glass away to smack his lips momentarily to think.

“I don’t see why not.”

“If she was over, she wouldn’t be taught how to make balloon animals or learn magic tricks, would she?”

You could feel your smirk growing as Stephen closed his eyes with a hiss, trying to conceal his laughter.

“Mrs. Stark—”

“You gotta admit it’s kinda funny,” you mused. “I take it I can contact you by one of your agencies? Bark? Thumbtack?”

“Ha, ha,” Stephen bit out, unable to hide his smile from his concealed laughter. “Keep this up and I’m taking the tea back.”

After rolling your eyes, you grabbed your iced tea glass that was starting to sweat. “I’m done. Promise. Get my number from Pepper and we’ll actually talk about arrangements sometime.”

Without waiting for a reply, you stepped around Clint’s kids to actually try to talk to others that weren’t in the magician profession.

Ironically enough, you spoke around with almost everyone after that. You felt considerably looser and made a mental note to try and run into Pepper when she wasn’t part of the Kitchen Patrol to thank her.

Thankfully, everyone had moved into the den, starting to pick at some of the food Pepper, May, and Laura had brought out. You decided to finally slip away and sit on the dock you had stood on a handful of minutes, maybe even a few hours ago, placing a wreath that was dedicated to your dead husband on the very water it was built on top of.

That caused you to sigh and take another sip from your tea.

“I should have seen this one coming, shouldn’t I?” You questioned aloud as you looked off into the distance where you saw the wreath still afloat. “I knew you were joking when you said something about the “Parker Curse”, but I didn’t assume it would come true.”

You let out a bitter laugh, carefully shifting to let your legs hang over the edge of the wood. Your drink was placed next to your shoes you wore with your dress. You even traced the small circle of water that was forming around your glass from the condensation.

What do you say now? Should you say anything now? Hell, could Tony even hear you? You wouldn’t know. Over the past three days, you didn’t know anything anymore.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it without you, y’know. Morgan’s going to miss you. She doesn’t quite get it, I think,” you started before taking a deep breath while trying to ignore your throat contracting in pain while your eyes stung with fresh tears, “then again she might. She’s your daughter, after all.”

You paused again, still at a loss for words as your fingers started to twist at your wedding ring, trying to fight back some of the tears while your mind ran wild. Eventually, the tears did start coming. Not too hard, but they were definitely rocking through your body to make you press a hand into the dock to steady yourself.

“You--You just had to sacrifice yourself, didn’t you? I told you—I told you that you should’ve stayed out of it and.. and just let them handle it themselves,” you heaved, trying to take a deep breath. “But you just couldn’t sit there and do nothing once you got a taste of what they were doing.”

The fact that anger was surging through you made you even more irritated. You pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes as you kept sobbing, trying to think this all out logically. You weren’t mad at Tony. You never could be. This was the grief talking and you hated how well you knew that about yourself by now.

You wished you could just get past the grieving stage and go right to accepting what’s happened. But you know that’s not going to happen. That’s just your luck.

The wind started to blow slightly around you. It was warm and inviting, almost like some form of a hug. It made you pull your hands from your eyes to look around your backyard, not seeing anyone out with you.

You were thankful for some moments of peace.

You kept chatting out into the air for a while, as if you and Tony were catching up on what he missed while he was out battling to win. There were tears, there was laughter, and there was undoubtedly some anger that came through and caused you to almost drain the last of your tea in the glass.

Once your tea was drained and your eyes felt a bit drier than they had for the whole conversation, you called it quits.

“I really hope you heard all of this, Tony,” you started easily, shifting to pop up onto your bare feet and grabbing your shoes as well as your empty glass in the process. “If not.. This was super awkward and whoever ended up hearing it probably didn’t enjoy it.”

Taking one final look out into the landscape of the lake where the wreath once was, you took in a shaky breath before speaking the last thing Tony ever spoke to you: “I love you. So much.”

The wind blew one last time like it had earlier, and you couldn’t hide a smile that time before you heard the back door to the cabin slam open, Peter’s laughter to be heard as Morgan shouted. You whipped your head around in panic at first before smiling at the sight, already making your way back to the cabin.

“Mommy! Aunt Pepper made Goji berry pancakes!”

“Morgan, take it easy!”

“Hey!” You called out, unable to help your own laugh, “you better have saved some for me, Little Miss! If not you’re in big trouble!”

#peter parker x sister!reader #tony stark x parker!reader #tony stark imagine #marvel drabble #marvel imagine #marvel writer #marvel writing #tony stark #peter parker #tw death mention #tw death #tw grieving #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark angst #rachael writes #pttshah

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angelkurenai · 5 years ago

Text

Hurricane - Dean Winchester x Reader (Detective AU) - Part 10

Title: Hurricane

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 5,074

Warnings: None

Summary: With one of the most dangerous serial killers on the loose and in your tracks you have no choice but to rely on the help of the police to ansure your safety. It doesn’t hurt that the detective in charge is the one of the most skilled there is and probably, well, definitely the most charming one you have ever seen. Or that his flirting with you takes your mind off the danger waiting for you right around the corner. & Based on: Imagine detective Dean Winchester flirting with you while working on your case.

Read Part 1 here! l Read Part 2 here! l Read Part 3 here! l Read Part 4 here! l Read Part 5 here! l Read Part 6 here! l Read Part 7 here! l Read Part 8 here! l Read Part 9 here!

“Why... what is it, Dean?” you looked at him with a frown.

“Maybe...” he blinked, clenching his jaw before he looked at you with slightly wide and certainly “The connection I needed all along.”

“Connection? But how could-”

“And the solution, (Y/n). The solution to all of your problems... to all of our problems.” he breathed almost in shock at the realization that downed on him. A realization you couldn't fully comprehend yet.

“Solution? What kind of solution are you talking about, Dean?” you blinked but he didn't answer as he kept thinking to himself.

“Dean?” you question without an answer “Dean answer me! Dean? Dean!” but he didn't seem to listen much to you as he set his glass aside, got up and walked around the coffee table making his way out of the living room you were just dining in.

“Dean wait! Where are you-” you groaned as you accidentally pressed on your injured leg. You limped your way towards his office, assuming it was the most plausible option judging by his direction.

“Dean? What's all of this?” you asked with wide eyes, seeing the mess of papers he had managed to make already.

“It was here, I swear I'd put somewhere here.” he grumbled “Son of a bitch, where did I put it?!” he growled, opening book after book.

“What are you looking for? Dean please calm down and explain to me.”

“I can't, I fucking can't! I need to find it, I need to find-” he stopped when he finally found the book he wanted, slipping through the pages a file fell on his desk. And as that silence filled the room as well.

“D” you whispered when you saw how he paled the moment he held the file open in his hands “What is it?” you whispered, getting closer to him.

“It was him.” he breathed out before looking at you “The reason why she's after you. It's him.”

“Him- who? I don't understand you Dean. What are you talking about?” you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Chuck” he breathed out and you took a step back at the seriousness in his voice “It is Chuck that I've been looking for, the connection, right there from the very beginning but I couldn't see it. She's after you because of Chuck!”

“D-Dean wh-” you shook your head “W- what are you talking about?” you blinked, taking another step back and he looked at you in sympathy.

“(Y/n), I mean-”

“No, Dean!” you felt your head hammer in your chest and all the blood rush to your ears “What are you talking about?! Chuck is- he's my friend, he's a cop, a good one, he wouldn't lead her to- to me. How could Chuck be involved in any of this but-”

“They're siblings!” he cut you off “They're... siblings, (Y/n).” he whispered, when he saw all kinds of emotions flash in front of your wide eyes. Your wide glossy eyes he noticed as you gasped in utter shock, the betrayal obvious on your face, as you stumbled backwards. His entire body screamed for him to take a step forward and gather you in his arms, hug you close like there was no tomorrow and tell you that everything was going to be alright. But you raised a hand, stopping him before he could do anything. It broke his heart to watch you like this and even more hear your weak, little broken voice whisper to him.

“What?”

He took a deep breath, opting to look at the file and papers in front of him rather than you because then he knew he would break “He... obviously didn't want to tell you to protect you. That's what my best guess would be.”

“Guess? Guess? Dean do you hear what you're even saying?! You're- You're implying my- my friends, my closest people, the ones I considered like family from you, to Sam, Cas, and now Chuck have all just been lying to me from the beginning a-and keeping secrets?!” you ended up yelling, tears pooling in your eyes and the man winced, closing his eyes for a moment. Your words felt like a stab to his heart, because although he had started pretending as if everything was alright between you – he was desperate to convince himself of that – he knew very well that they weren't. And they would end up getting even worse when he told you the whole truth.

“(Y/n), I know it's hard-”

“No Dean, it's not hard! It's impossible! This- this can't be- it can't be true! Please tell me it's not true. Please tell me you-you're wrong. Please.” and he made the mistake too look you in the eyes.

A sob left his own lips as all of his strength faded away and without a second thought he actually grabbed you by the shoulders and enveloped you in his arms, despite any protests, whimpers or weak pushes “Please” you begged and he clenched his jaw, shutting his eyes tightly.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. But I'm not.” it pained him to say it but he had to.

“H-how-” you choked out, clenching the fabric of his flannel in your fists “How do you know that? How can you be so sure?”

“Come sit first please.”

“Dean” you growled, glaring at him harshly, his flannel still fisted in your hands “Tell. Me. Everything.”

His eyes widened, understanding fully well what you meant “(Y/n) this is not the time or that, you can't hear what-”

“You promised me, Dean, you-” you clenched your jaw and then whispered hoarsely “You promised.”

“Alright, God, fine.” he tried to swallow the lump in his throat “Please, just sit. I know what I'm telling you, your foot's not alright either.”

“O-Ok” you whispered weakly in defeat but mostly fear and he instantly grabbed a chair to help you sit, doing the same himself. He took hold of your hands and let himself smile for a split second when you squeezed them gently.

“She was held far away from here, before all of these began.” he breathed out, locking eyes with you “Before even the police station was created here, she was locked somewhere where she couldn't do any harm. Somewhere where almost nobody could find her. A prison made only for the worst of the worst and she had a special place there two.”

“One of those places that officially doesn't exist?” you whispered and he gave you a small nod.

“Yes, there.” he cleared his throat “Her skills are something out of this world. She can manipulate people to do things she wants, it's like she... reprogramms their brains by using a few words. She can break them, make them do things they never even thought of, it's almost like she turns them into different persons... as if they don't have a soul at all.”

“Is that... possible?” you blinked.

“If people like Sherlock Holmes are possible to exist then everything is.” he shrugged “People can achieve just so much if they use their brains correctly. Anyway-” he sighed “Her family, well the only family member she had, began to see it from the very beginning that they were equally dangerous. There has been a report that said she was caught with a knife in her hand and when asked she only answered “I wanted to know what happens to a soul after death.” she- she was only six years old and she-” he clenched his jaw, looking down at your hands for a moment in total terror, and you didn't blame him. It was one thing kids killing people but when it was all so meticulous and well-thought it made you shake with fear of what they could really do now.

“The body was never found, nobody knows where she hid it. She's always hinted it, she's said, but all she did was sing a stupid song about it.” he shook his head.

“And how did she end up in her... prison?” you whispered and he licked his lips.

“As I said she only had one relative, we now know it's... Chuck. She loved him but could get jealous very easily. They didn't live alone, of course, they had both been adopted and raised by a lonely man whose wife died early. There was this one time...” he trailed off for a moment “The borther, the files say, Chuck we now know was having a party for his birthday and he had many friends over. Only thing it was when the time for the cake came... the candles weren't the only thing on fire. Neighbors had claimed that she was the reason why their house burned down, and reports did confirm it was arson. Nobody but the two siblings survived. They were soon lead to an orphanage where her... disturbing behavior didn't stop.”

“Anyway-” he cleared his throat “Those files you saw me holding were... confidential. Some of us try to keep ties with not just the US government. When it comes to people like Amara, and trust me there are others equally as bad or worse, it requires us to keep contact with people outside this country and even outside this continent. People like the ones in the UK government, some of them specialise in getting monsters like her down. So, someone actually let me in on some reports that had been kept hidden when she was put in her prison... Turns out her brother was the one that did it. Mycroft Holmes, uh the guy I told you about, had dealt with a similar situation of his own and he let me know that the person who put Amara in her prison was actually someone of great power, involved in Federal business he supposed, but the only evidence he had pointed to great power and access to said prison.”

“So who'd be better than the director of the FBI himself.” you muttered.

“Exactly. And when you told me you were... that close in the past-” he pursed his lips for a second and you raised an eyebrow at how clearly bothered by it he looked “Then it doesn't take a genius to figure out he's the missing piece in this puzzle. She is after you because you two were close, because she's trying to lure him out. She wants revenge for putting her in that prison.”

“Of course she does.” you pursed your lips, letting go of his hand “Gosh, I can't believe how naive I've been.” you buried your face in your hands, letting out a shaky breath.

“You're not, look at me here-” he growled and you obeyed “You are not naive. You are the best thing that has happened in my entire life.” he ended up whispering, taking hold of your hands again “You are a ray of sunshine, that's what you are. You have faith in people, you believe they can be good but not everyone is, sadly. Just because there are... assholes out there, doesn't mean something is wrong with you. They-” he clenched his jaw “We all think we are doing it for the best but in the end-”

“How did you meet her?” you whispered and his eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening slightly “Tell me, Dean. You can tell me, I won't be mad I promise you. I don't have any emotional strength for that anymore, anyway.”

He held your gaze for a few second before he took in a trembling breath “I was working on a case.” his voice was barely above a whisper and you leaned, giving his hand a squeeze “Serial killer, uh Abaddon was her name. She was... one of the most lethal ones, I'll tell you. I thought I got her once but she escaped. I uhm was going through a hard time then with Sammy and I... I was in a dark place.” he clenched his jaw, taking a long pause that made you worry for him.

He sighed tiredly, shaking his head “I wanted to get it over with by any means so I worked with Crowley. I'm sure that doesn't surprise you, now, but he was actually just my way to something bigger. He got me to meet a man, Cain was his name. He had the means to help me get to Abaddon, kill her and all, but it would come at a great cost.There would be consequences that would affect me greatly. I was reckless, as usual-” he gave you a half smile “And I agreed, without a second thought. I needed to get Abaddon and I didn't care even if I died in the process.”

He was quick to notice the scowl that set on your face and he gave you a reassuring smile “Don't worry, I'm alive and kicking, and you are definitely not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“I hope not.” you whispered hoarsely “So-” you licked your lips “This means to find Abaddon was...”

“A person.” he completed your sentence “Amara. She... she was the means to finding Abaddon. I was given the accords to where I would find her and I visited her, talked to her about the case and all. She could within an hour predict her every move if we showed her where she'd been before or who she'd killed. We've had many close calls with Abaddon, each time finding her only thanks to Amara's help until in the very end I got her and I was able to kill her, putting an end to all of it.”

“But?” you whispered with a frown, fearing to hear what he could have to say next. The thought of what those consequences were making your heart ache for the green-eyed man.

“But it was far from the end.” he chewed on his lower lip “She wasn't going to help me just for my charming smile...” he trailed off, a deep frown on his face as he rubbed his temple with a frustrated sigh. For a moment you felt bad for him, sure he might have kept secrets from you but you saw it now, it was to protect you and maybe protect himself as well. This had been troubling him as well, obviously for much longer than you, and it only made you want to drop the subject altogether. He wasn't ready to talk about it, not yet at least, about the part that involved his role in this story because it was actually painful for him.

“Well, I know I would do a lot of things for that charming smile.” you said with a casual shrug, smiling softly to cheer him up and maybe drop the subject. It wasn't time yet and for a moment it worked because he breathed out a chuckle.

“Don't flirt with me, it's distracting.” he looked at you through his lashes, and whether you wanted it or not you felt your chest feel lighter and your smile get bigger.

“As if you don't distract me enough, yourself.” you scoffed with a smirk and soon a boyish grin broke on his lips.

“Do I, now?” he raised an eyebrow, biting his lower lip “Interesting information, then, just what I need to use to my advantage.”

“Oh please don't, it's not like I can get you out of my mind as it is.” you breathed out with a shake of your head and a wonderful laugh left his lips. A kind of laugh you had not hear in actually a while and that warmed your chest more than you realized was possible.

“I...” you blinked before closing your eyes in embarrassment when he laughed wholeheartedly “Probably shouldn't have said that out loud.”

“Man, I should get more bottles of that wine!” he grinned and you scoffed, kicking his legs with your good one.

“Whatever you say, not like I'm gonna drink it.” you scoffed, playing with your fingers “Dean-” you were ready to tell him to not insist on the matter, not now at least, but he beat you at speaking.

“I know- I understand that you want to talk about it, I'm sorry, I'm getting out track, I should-”

“No” you were the one to cut him off this time “No, I want to talk about it but... not like this. Not if you're not ready, I can understand now that things are bigger than me, bigger than the both of us. I- I mean, someone I thought was my family turned out is involved in all of this worse than any of you all together so I... I should probably wait before I can know everything.”

“But you asked for-”

“It was a term. But I didn't state when. Besides, I don't think I will be able to take more.” but deep down it was a lie, because you weren't protecting yourself, you knew you were only protecting him. It came naturally and it was all because of your feelings for him that, quite honestly, you could never fight.

His lips parted before he closed his mouth again, giving you a weak nod “Alright.” he whispered hesitantly “Alright, and I... promise you from now on there will be no more secrets to add to that.

“Sounds perfect to me.” you whispered, leaning in to peck his cheek before you could stop yourself.

~*~

“You know, if I didn't know how awesome the water pressure in there is I would seriously question the sounds you were making.” you could practically hear the smirk in his voice but at that moment, and in that very situation, you were too busy jumping like a scared cat with a loud squeak when you saw the doorhandle move to care.

“No, Dean, don't-”

“I brought some new... blankets.” he ended up whispering with wide eyes, blinking as you scurried to grab the towl and cover yourself up. Or at least as much as you could of your bare upper half, thankful for at least the blue panties covering your lower half.

“Son of a bitch, Dean!” you squealed, closing your eyes as your entire face burned in embarrassment “Do you really have no idea what knocking means?!”

“I- I-” his eyes trailed up and down your body, his lips parted as he gave you that subtle and suggestive smile “Apparently not.”

“Dean” you groaned “This is not the right time.” you grumbled, eyes casted down in shyness.

“Is it not?” he nodded his head, licking his lips and humming “Hm and here I was being hopeful we'd go back to ur kind of normal.”

“We are, we really are, but that doesn't mean you can be so casual staring at me nearly naked!” you protested, your voice slightly high pitched as he grinned at you “Damn it! Stop staring!” you squeaked out, cradling the towel close to your chest but it didn't deter him. If anything, not only did he not remove his eyes from you but also took a couple steps closer you, letting the blankets fall on the bed.

“Why?” he asked in a low husky voice “I don't think there is a reason to. If anything-” he approached you until your back was pressed against the wall “All beautiful things must be admired, right?”

“Yeah. Right.” you scoffed, looking down at your hands bitterly.

“Hey” he placed two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so that you could meet his eyes “Don't you dare defy a Federal agent, I have the means to prove you wrong and oh-” he bit his lower lip “I'd love to.”

“I'm not that special, anyway.”

It was his turn to scoff as he placed a hand over yours “Sweetheart, if only you could see what I do.” he whispered and you let him take a full hold of both your hands in his, bring them up to his lips for a soft kiss on the knuckles. His eyes held such intensity that you didn't care that the towel fell down on your feet, which made a soft smile form on his lips. His eyes trailed down and despite how your face was bright red you made no move to hide yourself from his intense gaze.

“Gorgeous” he whispered, looking up in your eyes again with a tender smile and you chewed on your lower lip, shaking your head; making him give you a firm look “Don't make me do it.”

“You wouldn't want to-”

“God, you have no idea how bad I just really want to kiss you right now.” he breathed out in a hoarse voice and your eyebrows raised softly in innocence.

“Then... why won't you? You-” you bit your lower lip “You pulled away too soon this morning, I really wished you would do it again. Despite what I said.”

A boyish grin formed on his lips “Damn” he breathed out in awe “You're amazing.” and with that, he cupped your face and pressed his lips hard against yours and eliciting a soft trembling breath from you. You hesitated at first but your arms trailed up his chest and wrapped around his neck, letting your bodies press close together and when he wrapped a hand around your bare waist you shivered under his touch.

You took the courage to start kissing back harder, licking his lower lip and he gladly granted you access. His tongue toyed with yours as his full lips moved against yours. You were temped to bit them and you realized you actually did when you heard him moan softly. Dean's hand moved to your thigh and as he pressed you against the wall he brought it up to wrap around his waist, his hips pushing yours back as a response to you grinding on him.

Dean licked your lips, savoring the sweet taste that he didn't have the mind to savor the first time. He moaned in pleasure when threaded your fingers through his hair and tugged at it. He held both your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting you off the ground and carrying you on the bed, all the while your lips not pulling apart for a second. He layed you on the mattress, his body pressing softly on top of you as his hands held your hips.

“I've dreamed about you.” he whispered roughly in between the kisses “Wanted you. Ever since we first met, I was a gonner. Don't know how you did it but damn you got me sweetheart.” he mumbled against your skin as he licked and sucked on your neck now, he chuckled softly “I couldn't stop thinking about you.”

“It's easy to understand-” the voice was a low whisper “You simply cannot resist me.” but with those words it was crystal clear... it wasn't yours. No just by the words that would actually never leave your beautiful lips but also because the voice was 100% not yours.

As if electricity shot right through him, Dean's eyes snapped wide open and he pulled away faster than he ever had in his life. He stared with wide eyes as she casually rested her weight on the bed on her elbows, tilting her head softly and raising an eyebrow softly. Dean shook his head furiously, his breath having caught in his lungs and his eyes wide.

“No, no it's impossible.” he said in a gruff voice “No! (Y/n)-”

“Is it?” she breathed out “It doesn't seem like it to me. After all-” she shrugged “No matter how much you want to...” she got serious, dangerously so “You can't escape me. And neither will she.”

Dean awoke with a jolt, his eyes wide and his chest heaving as he tried to get as much air as possible in his lungs. His heart hammered inside his chest, painfully so, as if it wanted to break out of his ribcage and he clenched the blankets firmly in his fists. His eyes roamed around the room, trying to convince himself it was only a dream but it just had been far too real. Trembling he fell back on the bed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes before dragging a hand down his face.

He clenched his jaw as the fear started creeping up his chest because he was fully aware that it sadly wasn't just a nightmare but a promise. Directly said by her or not, it was the bitter and very scary truth. And Dean knew he had to do something about it, before you got hurt beyond repair.

~The following morning~

“No, Cas, I can't just fucking wait!” Dean growled, pacing around in his room “He can't have just disappeared like that, we're a small town for fuck's sake.” he grumbled, listening to his friend on the other end “Tell your brother to get his shit together or so help me! I-” he took a deep breath, lowering his voice when he realized he could wake you up “I want him to have news on him by the end of the day, got it?” he ended the call with a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand down his face.

He turned around to make his way to the door but stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you resting your weight against the doorframe “So... disappeared huh?” you whispered in a hoarse voice.

“Did I wake you up?” he whispered with a frown but you shook your head.

“No, I couldn't sleep much anyway. I just heard you talking and I- I got a little worried... No luck huh?”

Trying to swallow the lump in his throat he tore his eyes away from your form and nodded his head “I texted him last night but got no reply and when I tried to track his phone it didn't lead anywhere. I called Cas just in case but... nobody's seen Chuck ever since last morning.”

“Of course.” you pursed your lips, nodding your head sadly as you looked down at your feet “Figures. Every man sooner or later leaves me anyway.” you laugh humorlessly and he clenched his jaw, glaring at you.

“Don't say that.” he was completely serious.

You shook your head with a smile “It's alright, Dean, honest. I'm just- Worried we are not going to get an end to this, that's all.”

“Sweetheart” he sighed, striding to you and placing two hands on your shoulders “I'm going to end this, I promise you, no matter what it takes I am going to save you. Even if I have to go through hell, I don't care what it takes, I won't let her close to you again.”

You gave him a weak smile “I know you will, I don't doubt that anymore.”

“Good and-” he took a deep breath “Just so you know... I never would.”

You frowned at him for a second before realization down on you and you looked at your feet with a sheepish smile “I suppose.” you mumbled, missing the hurt look that flashed through his eyes at your disbelief “But something else, more important, take your time. Just- take your time, ok? Don't... lose your sleep over this, my knight in shining armor needs the rest after all.”

He wanted to smile but his heart felt too heavy inside his chest “You heard me, didn't you?”

You sighed, looking down at your feet “I had gone for a glass of water and I- I accidentally heard you, yeah. I know that nightmares can be really tough sometimes and I- I just-” you pursed your lips, shrugging “How bad was it?”

“Nothing I can't handle. You don't have to do this to yourself.”

“But it still doesn't change the fact that I am the reason behind it. Dean-” you sighed “I can understand that you want to help me, and I'm... really happy about it. I've had my doubts and I won't lie I still do up to some point, but you gotta take care of yourself as well. If you don't then, as much as the feminist in me hates it, we're both screwed.”

“Alright.” he nodded his head “Alright, I hear you... I'll try my best.”

“Not what I wanted to hear but I guess I'll take that.” you nodded your head “Ok detective, let's put that aside for now and focus on more important topics. After all, when it doubt. Eat!”

A chuckle inevitably left his lips, as he shook his head with a fond smile “Woman of my heart.”

“If you have anything in mind, we could cook and-”

“Yeah about that.” he cut you off, his smile falling “I need to be at the station in less than 30 minutes, so I'm afraid there won't be any time for that. But on the bright side-” he smirked “You'll get to see me in action.”

“That... can have a double meaning.”

~8 hours later~

“All I asked for was some safety, some security, have you close again to feel alright.” you huffed, closing your eyes and wanting to rub your temple but it was actually impossible in your current position “This is not what I bargained for.”

“Sweetheart-” his voice came slightly restrained as well, and the movement of his hips against yours got a groan from you “Trust me, if I could have it any other way I would gladly take the option.”

“Would you now?” your said slightly out of breath, the smirk evident in your voice and Dean grinned on his own.

“Hmh” he licked his lips “No, no actually I wouldn't.” and him shifting made you bite your lip.

“Detective” your voice came out equally strained “Not that I don't like the position we're in right now, cause oh trust me I do.”

“Really huh?” the smugness in his voice made you glare at him.

“Dean” you hissed his name but couldn't fight a moan when his hands squeezed your hips.

“Sorry, just kinda got distracted. Tryin' to realize this is not a dream is kinda hard.” he gave you a chuckle that died out too soon but you actually laughed, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

“There better be no pun intended, detective. And speaking of which-” you bit your lower lip “Please tell me that is your gun.”

A small pause followed and Dean didn't give you even a small laugh before he whispered in a husky voice that made shivers run down your spine “And... what if it's not?”

~~~

A/N: Chapter 10 is here and there are only fie parts left! This is probably half the truth that Dean kept from the Reader and the rest will be revealed just as soon! For the moment I hope you enjoy this! Feedback is welcomed and tags are still very much open in case you want to be added! Just let me know.

@getlostinthedark @cap-just-said-language @catwithyellowwings @word-scribbless @carryon-doctor-lock @nightriver99 @timelady1140 @spideyxstan @agentstarkid @all-will-be-well-love @simpleboox @jaylarkson @cookiechipdough @alltimekp @a-dorky-book-keeper @givemebooksorgivemedeath @skeletoresinthebasement @sammy201d @akshi8278 @amandamdiehl @hobby27 @deans-baby-momma @musiclover1263 @feelmyroarrrr @sofreddie @skymoonandstardust @babygabrielle-blog @woodworthti666 @gunpowder-and-smoke-inofficial @erule @lizwinchester16 @itslunabitches @itsquies @justkending @fiftyshadesofrebel @love-my-not-natural-babies @outsider-underwater @deanmonandnegansbitch @kaylinfayezink @x-waywardaf-x @keshaia @moonlight-on-her-skin @happy-little-marvel

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot #series #au #detectives

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kawaiikichi · 5 years ago

Text

The Body Swapping Hijinks of Shuichi and Kokichi (Saiouma)

(Yes, this is literally the title. Aren’t I creative XD)

Saiouma #3 (Roommates) and #22 (College AU) from the “Two Tropes + Pairing” list for @sunshine12340! First, I would like to apologize for the long wait. I feel bad for not having this out earlier ;^;

This one was pretty fun to write and just some of the things that they said and did in each other’s bodies was just so downright hilarious that I would have to take a small break from it because I was laughing too hard XD

I hope you like it and let me know if you would like anything changed/edited! :D

*Based off of this request (here’s the second part of it)*

Title: The Body Swapping Hijinks of Shuichi and Kokichi

Tropes Used: #3 (Body Swap) and #22 (College AU)

Summary: After colliding with each other, Shuichi and Kokichi wind up swapping bodies. Chaos ensues as they try to get through the day as each other.

One-Shot Notes: Shuichi and Kokichi are roommates with Kaito and Gonta being their suitemates; Green zone: At my university, we have sections of the library labeled the green zone, yellow, zone, and red zone (or as I remember it being called during my campus tour, “green light, yellow light, red light”), where you can talk as loud as you want in the green zone, only whisper quietly in the yellow zone and complete silence in the red zone

One-shot is under the cut!

“Eh? You’re going to a mixer tonight?”

Shuichi blinked at Kokichi in surprise as he threw on a cream-colored cardigan over his blue and white plaid button-up shirt.

“Yeah. Honestly, I had no intention of going because I’m not really looking for anyone to date because I already have someone I like, but Amami-chan insisted because he didn’t want to go alone. So, in the end, I’m going.” Kokichi explained.

“I see...” Shuichi trailed off.

He bit his bottom lip. The idea of Kokichi going to a mixer and getting friendly with someone there unsettled him.

He started developing a crush on him two months after they met at Rantaro’s birthday party last year. When they first met, they surprisingly hit it off quite well and decided to room with each other this year. Maki and Kaito weren’t happy about the fact that Kokichi, who was well-known for his troublemaker antics, was pretty close with Shuichi, but they chose to keep those feelings bottled up for Shuichi’s sake.

These feelings for Kokichi went from being just a simple crush to being head over heels for him. However, he felt that Kokichi didn’t feel the same way. So, he kept quiet about it.

“Hm?” Kokichi tilted his head to the side. “Saihara-chan, you look like you oppose the idea of me going to a mixer.” he commented.

“Huh?!” Shuichi stared at Kokichi in surprise. “No, I—“

“Now, now, there’s no need to lie about it. I can see it in your eyes.” Kokichi grinned. “Could it be that you have a crush on me? Is that why you’re so against it?” he asked.

“Huh?!” Shuichi’s cheeks flushed red.

He hit the nail right on the head, he thought to himself.

“Nishishi, I’m just kidding with you. I like seeing you get all flustered.” Kokichi leaned against the door to the bathroom. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to come back early enough so I can keep you company.” he teased.

“It’s fine! You don’t need to do that, Ouma-kun!” Shuichi exclaimed.

Just then, the bathroom door flew open, knocking Kokichi over in the process.

“Yo, bro! Do you have any toothpaste I can borrow—“

“Ouma-kun!”

Kaito watched in surprise as Shuichi caught Kokichi, the two falling to the floor in a messy heap of tangled limbs as their heads hit against the footboard of Kokichi’s bed.

“Holy shit! Are you two okay?!” Kaito paled. “I had no idea you two were so close to the door...” he trailed off.

As Kaito continued to panic, Shuichi reached up to rub his head.

“Ouch, that hurt...” he mumbled.

That was when he noticed something.

Wait a minute. Why do I sound like Ouma-kun, he asked himself.

He looked down and realized that instead of the button-up shirt, cardigan, skinny jeans, and dark brown oxfords that he chose to wear for today, he had on a pastel rainbow striped sweater with a white tank top under it, white skinny jeans that had tears by the knees, and white slip-on Vans. His eyes widened in surprise.

It couldn’t be...

He reached up and pulled at a lock of hair, seeing that it was purple rather than black. He paled as realization hit him.

What the fu—

“I got taller!” a loud scream reached his ears.

Shuichi turned in surprise only to come face to face with his own body. Horror flashed through their eyes as Kaito spoke.

“U-Um, you guys? Are you sure you’re okay? You’re starting to frighten me...” he trailed off.

“There’s no need to worry, Momota-kun. We’re both fine. At least...” Shuichi looked at Kokichi (rather, at himself). “I think we are.” he commented.

“Momota...kun? Oi, Ouma, you never say that. Are you really sure you’re okay?” Kaito asked.

“No, we’re not okay!” Kokichi glared at Kaito. “We are not okay at all, Mister Grey Matter for Brains!” he snapped.

“Shuichi?” Kaito questioned.

“Um, Momota-kun, let me explain...”

“What is there to explain?! You’re acting way too polite, Ouma, and Shuichi is acting really rude! You guys are acting as if you’ve swapped bodies or something!”

“That’s exactly what it is, though, Momota-kun! I think we did swap bodies!”

Shuichi and Kokichi untangled themselves and stood as they looked at Kaito, whose face resembled a sheet of paper.

“You...what?” Kaito asked.

Shuichi sighed, reaching up to rub his temple (or Kokichi’s temple, in this case).

“I think we swapped bodies when you swung open the door, hit Ouma-kun, and the two of us went falling to the ground.” Shuichi explained.

“Oi, oi, oi, don’t mess around with me, bro. There’s no way that’s possible!” Kaito shouted.

“It is, though.” Shuichi pointed at himself. “Right now, I’m in Ouma-kun’s body and he’s in mine.” Shuichi explained.

“Oh my god...this whole situation is like it came straight out of a novel. It’s like...the supernatural...” Kaito yelped. “The supernatural! Ghosts! You two have been possessed by ghosts!” he screamed at the top of his lungs before passing out.

“Momota-kun!” Shuichi exclaimed in horror.

Kokichi cackled from behind him.

“Man, he’s such a wuss, passing out after hearing that we swapped bodies!” he exclaimed as he continued to laugh.

Shuichi turned to watch Kokichi in shock as he continued to double over in laughter. It felt weird hearing Kokichi say things like that in his voice.

Just then, Gonta poked his head inside.

“Gonta heard loud noise! Is everything okay?” he then saw Kaito passed out on the floor. “Ah! What happened to Momota-kun?!” he exclaimed.

“Hey, Gonta-chan!” Kokichi waved. “Mister Space Freak passed out.” he stated.

“Eh?! No way! Saihara-kun, is that true?!” Gonta asked, looking at Kokichi in shock.

“Actually, I’m over here, Gonta-kun...” Shuichi trailed off, raising his hand.

“Eh? Saihara-kun is Ouma-kun? Gonta is confused.” Gonta said.

“Yeah, it’s a little hard to understand. What happened was that when Momota-kun opened the door not too long ago, he hit Ouma-kun with it. I caught him in order to cushion his fall and the two of us fell and hit our heads against the footboard of his bed, which I think caused us to swap bodies. So now, he’s in my body and I’m in his.” Shuichi explained.

“Eh?! Saihara-kun and Ouma-kun swap bodies?! No way!” Gonta said.

“Welp, it’s the truth, Gonta-chan! I’m now veeeeeery tall and Saihara-chan is now a total shortie!” Kokichi jeered.

“You just called yourself a shortie, though, Ouma-kun...” Shuichi mumbled.

“Watch that smart mouth of yours, Saihara-chan!” Kokichi snapped angrily, hands flying onto his hips as Gonta spoke.

“Oh...Ouma-kun and Saihara-kun swap bodies...Gonta suggests that you two go see doctor!” he suggested.

“That sounds like a good idea, but...” Shuichi looked at the clock on the wall. “We have to go to class soon.” he said.

“Oh...Okay! Maybe Saihara-kun and Ouma-kun can go after classes!” he chirped.

“Yeah, we can do that.” Shuichi said.

He watched how Kokichi furrowed his brows at that statement as Gonta spoke.

“Gonta bring Momota-kun back to room now!” he said as he picked Kaito’s body up from the floor and he left, closing the door behind him.

Shuichi sighed, reaching up to rub his fingers through his hair.

“Ugh, what do we do now...?” he asked.

“I’ve seen this happen before in a lot of the mangas I’ve read. All we have to do is headbutt each other in order to turn back!” Kokichi replied cheerfully.

“Okay, let’s do that.” Shuichi looked at Kokichi. “Also, why are you twirling my hair around your finger?!” he exclaimed.

“It’s a habit of mine, okay?!” Kokichi whined.

“Well, cut it out!”

“I don’t wanna!”

Shuichi groaned as he reached up to grab Kokichi’s cheeks and yank him down, their heads slamming together. They both staggered backward, holding their pounding heads.

“Ugh, dammit...that hurt a lot more than I thought it would...” Shuichi mumbled.

He looked at himself, noting that his line of vision was still pretty low.

“Well, that did nothing. I’m still in your body.” Shuichi commented.

“Congratulations on pointing out the obvious, Sherlock.” Kokichi shot back.

He then looked at the watch on his wrist.

“Shit, I’m supposed to meet up with Amami-chan soon so that we can walk to class together...” he trailed off.

“You mean I’m supposed to go meet with Amami-kun. I’m in your body, remember?” Shuichi reminded him.

Kokichi facepalmed.

“Oh, damn it all.” he stated.

“Okay, it looks like we’re going to have to wait for this to wear off. Akamatsu-san was telling me about a manga that she read where two girls swapped bodies with each other and the effect didn’t wear off until the next morning. So, maybe we just need to wait.” Shuichi looked at Kokichi. “You need to get going, as well. My class starts in seven minutes.” he suggested.

“Your class is in the forensics building, right?” Kokichi asked, reaching to grab his backpack.

“Yeah. I’ll send you my full schedule so that you can reference it throughout the day.” Shuichi looked at the bag that Kokichi had grabbed. “Also, I need to take that bag. Your bag is over there.” he said, nodding to the navy blue messenger bag that was on his bed.

Kokichi looked over at the messenger bag.

“Ugh, for real?” he complained.

“Yes, for real.” Shuichi took the checkered backpack out of Kokichi’s hands. “Geez, why do you have so many pins on your bag? Aren’t you afraid that you might lose some of them or get scratches on them?” he asked as he put his arms through the straps.

“It’s my bag, I do what I want!” Kokichi stomped over the messenger bag. “Also, why is your bag so plain-looking? It’s plainer than Mugi-chan’s appearance.” he commented.

“Like you said, it’s my bag.” Shuichi shot back.

Kokichi narrowed his eyes at Shuichi as he slung the messenger bag over his shoulder.

“Whatever.” Kokichi breezed past Shuichi. “I need to hurry and get to your class. I’ll also text you my schedule, so for now, just go down to the dining hall’s entrance and meet up with Amami-chan.” he said.

“Okay...” Shuichi trailed off.

He then turned to look at Kokichi.

“Make sure you don’t slip up! You need to act like me or else people will get suspicious, okay?!” Shuichi called out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Kokichi responded with a nonchalant wave of his hand before heading out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Shuichi released a loud sigh.

“I hope he doesn’t mess up anything...” he grumbled before heading out into the hall, as well.

💜💜💜💜

Kokichi sat in the classroom for Shuichi’s first class, staring blankly at the words written on the board.

“Get into your groups and discuss how you plan on giving your report to the class on your investigation...?” he wondered out loud.

What the heck is this report even on? Does he have a sheet or something that has the information about this assignment in his binder or something? Also, who is part of my group, he asked himself.

He flipped through the pages in Shuichi’s binder, finally finding what he was looking for. At least, he hoped it was what he was looking for.

“This looks like something relating to an investigation report...” he mumbled under his breath.

He opened the rings of the binder and took the papers out, snapping the rings back together as two guys came up to him.

“Hey, Saihara-kun! You managed to finish up the report, right?” the guy to his left asked.

Kokichi furrowed his brows at him.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Huh? I’m your group member for this assignment.” the guy replied, blinking his eyes twice in confusion.

“Really now?” Kokichi said as he looked down at the sheet of paper, seeing two other names besides Shuichi’s at the top.

“Amano Shigeru-chan? Or Taguchi Takato-chan?” he asked.

“It’s Amano...” Shigeru trailed off.

“More importantly, are you okay, Saihara-kun? You’re not usually this forgetful. Also, you never refer to anyone by -chan.” Takato commented.

“Hm?” Kokichi hummed in response.

Just then, he recalled Shuichi’s words to him as he was leaving their dorm room.

“Make sure you don’t slip up! You need to act like me or else people will get suspicious, okay?!” Kokichi immediately turned pale.

Oh god, he did say that! Goddammit it all, he thought to himself.

He forced out a chuckle.

“Did I really say -chan? Ah, sorry about that.” he apologized.

“It’s fine, Saihara-kun! We all have off days, so it’s fine!” Shigeru said as he waved his hands wildly.

Takato sighed.

“So, is the report finished?” he asked.

“Yup, it’s done!” Kokichi chirped in response.

Shigeru and Takato eyed Kokichi curiously as he flipped through the papers.

I hope this is what they mean when they ask if it’s done because I got no clue, he thought to himself.

“So, Saihara-kun, we’ll have you go over the list of suspects and who the culprit of the crime is while we go over everything else. Sound good?” Takato asked.

“Yeah, sounds good to me.” Kokichi replied.

As he began to read through the report, his eyes grew wide.

My god, they were working on such a complicated case?! There’s a lot of terms here that I don’t really understand, he thought to himself.

He began to sweat.

Oh god, I really have my work cut out for me, he thought to himself.

💜💜💜💜

As the professor continued to go through the lecture on complex characters in fiction works, Shuichi jotted down the notes in Kokichi’s sparkly purple spiral notebook.

Rantaro eyed Shuichi curiously as he flipped to the next page. Then, he poked his arm with the eraser end of his mechanical pencil.

“Hm?” Shuichi said as he shot a glance at Rantaro.

“This is the first time I’m seeing you actually take down notes in class. I’m shocked.” he commented.

“Really?” Shuichi questioned, his eyes growing wide in surprise.

“Yeah, really.” Rantaro took a look at the examples that Shuichi had jotted down. “They’re even color-coded and neat. Compared to your swirly and cursive-like writing, these are more easy to read. It reminds me a lot of Saihara-kun’s notes.” he commented.

“Is that so...” Shuichi trailed off.

I can’t believe this...does Ouma-kun not take notes in his classes or something? Amami-kun sounded like the world had ended when he saw that I was taking notes, he thought to himself.

He then looked at what he had written down, observing his handwriting.

As much as I wanted to replicate Ouma-kun’s writing, it’s too swirly for my taste. Just how is he able to understand what he’s written down, he wondered to himself.

He continued writing as the professor told them to start sketching out a complex character of their own. As he began to brainstorm, Rantaro slipped a note in his direction. Shuichi arched a brow at this as he read what the piece of paper said.

We’re still on for the mixer later tonight, right?

Shuichi had to resist the urge to release an annoyed sigh.

Gosh, I almost forgot that he’s going to that mixer, he thought to himself.

He was nearly tempted to write down that he wasn’t going to go after all, but he stopped himself. He turned the piece of paper over and wrote his response.

I guess? Why are you asking?

Rantaro took the piece of paper and wrote something down under his response.

Just checking.

Shuichi frowned at this as Rantaro wrote something else.

It’s just funny that you’re deciding to come after all, seeing as you were so adamant about not going before. Does it have something to do with Saihara-kun?

Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing his name on the paper.

Wait, what, he asked himself.

He took the piece of paper and wrote down his response.

What do you mean?

Rantaro chose not to respond to the question, going back to working on the exercise. Shuichi wanted to nudge Rantaro and ask him to explain what he meant, but something told him that he wouldn’t say anything more, so he decided against it.

However, even as he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander.

💜💜💜💜

Kokichi looked at the schedule that Shuichi sent him over text, sighing deeply.

“Ugh, now it’s a break for an hour and a half before going to the abnormal psychology lecture hall from three thirty until ten minutes to six...this is so ridiculous! How in the world is Saihara-chan able to go to all of these difficult classes without dropping dead?” he wondered out loud.

He glanced over at the nearby dining hall.

I should at least go and get something to eat, he thought to himself.

He began to make his way over there as a voice called out to him.

“Oh! Saihara-kun!”

Kokichi immediately stiffened.

Oh, hell no.

This could not be happening to him.

He slowly turned, watching as Kaede began to make his way over to him.

Goddammit it all. It’s Miss Piano Nerd, the last person I wanted to run into, he thought to himself.

He forced a smile onto his lips.

“Hey there, Kayay—I mean, Akamatsu-san!” he greeted.

Kaede smiled as she approached him, ignoring the way he covered up his mistake.

“What a coincidence, running into you here! Harukawa-san and I were just thinking about going to grab lunch before we head to the gym!” she chirped.

“Wait, who’s with you?” Kokichi asked, hoping he heard her wrong.

“Harukawa-san!” Kaede replied.

Kokichi felt his blood slowly turn cold as Maki poked her head out from behind Kaede.

Oh, god no.

No.

No, no, no, no—

Okay, scratch what I said about Kayayday earlier. She’s the second to last person I wanted to run into. It’s Harukawa-chan! She’s the last person I wanted to run into today, he thought to himself.

“Yo.” Maki greeted.

“Y-Yo.” Kokichi replied lamely.

Oh my god, I want to die. Please let the ground swallow me whole, please, he silently pleaded.

“Are you going for lunch, too?” Kaede asked.

“Yeah, seeing as I have some time before I go to my last class for the day.” Kokichi replied.

“Wow! It truly is a coincidence!” Kaede beamed at him. “Let’s get lunch together, then!” she chirped.

Kokichi could only stare as Kaede looped her arms around his own and she began pulling him in the direction of the dining hall with Maki following close behind.

Ugh, I can’t believe this! I can’t believe I have to eat lunch with Kayayday and Annoying Harukawa-chan, he thought to himself.

He then stared down at Kaede’s arms, which were wrapped around his own tightly.

Also, does she always hold him like this?! Gosh, ever her boobs are pressing against his arm...he actually lets her do this?! Ugh, now I’m really angry, he thought to himself.

They headed to the dining hall and after getting their food, they sat down at a table and began to eat. Kokichi poked his chopsticks at the bowl of white rice in front of him as Maki and Kaede conversed.

I can’t even eat what I usually have for lunch or else they’ll find out the truth, he thought to himself.

He sighed as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, proceeding to type out a text to Shuichi.

Shuichi S: Saihara-chan, I know that you’re in class rn, but I need help!!! I’m being forced to eat with Akamatsu-chan and Harukawa-chan and I’m 99.9% sure that I’m going to screw this up

“Who are you texting, Saihara-kun?”

Kokichi looked up mid-text and saw Kaede watching him inquisitively.

“Uh...I’m texting Saihara-chan.” he replied.

“Saihara...chan?” Maki questioned.

Kokichi grew pale upon realizing that he slipped up.

Shit, shit, shit, shiiiiiiiiiiit! I was not supposed to say that, he thought to himself.

“But...you’re right here, Saihara-kun...” Kaede trailed off.

“Ahahaha! I was just kidding with you two! I mean, I’m texting Ouma-kun.” Kokichi said, putting emphasis on -kun.

He quickly finished his text and sent it, silently hoping that Shuichi would respond to it soon.

“Are you now?” Maki asked.

“Of course I am.” Kokichi replied.

Stop asking questions if you know what’s good for you, Harukawa-chan, he thought to himself as he shot a pointed glare in her direction.

He reached for his cup of water and began sipping on it as Kaede spoke.

“Speaking of Ouma-kun, have you told him yet?” she asked.

“Hm? Told him what?” Kokichi inquired.

“That you like him, obviously.” Kaede replied.

Kokichi sputtered, water spilling all over the counter.

“Ah! Saihara-kun, you spilled your water!” Kaede exclaimed as she scrambled to pull napkins out of the holder and wipe up the mess he made.

Wait, wait, hold on a minute! Did I hear her right, he asked himself.

“Wait, Saihara-cha—I mean, I like Ouma-kun?” he asked.

“Yeah? You said you liked him since December of last year.” Maki stated bluntly.

“I did, huh...” Kokichi trailed off.

He leaned back in his seat, staring up at the modern light fixture above the table they were seated at. On the inside, he was freaking out.

Saihara-chan likes me?! He actually likes me?! Oh my god, is this for real?! Are my feeling requited after all, he asked himself.

He chuckled to himself.

“Holy shit...”

💜💜💜💜

Shuichi looked down at the text that Kokichi sent him of his schedule earlier today.

Shuichi S: After school, you need to meet with Keeboy in the library! He should be on the second floor. We usually spend Fridays after class in the library for a little while before returning to our dorms~

Okay, so now I need to head to the library and meet up with Keebo-kun, he thought to himself.

He sighed as he made the trek across campus to the library.

I really don’t want to poke fun and tease Keebo-kun like Ouma-kun usually does because that’s just mean, but I’m going to have to in order to keep up appearances, he thought to himself.

He arrived at the library a few minutes later and he stepped inside, making his way up to the second floor. He weaved through the shelves of books before spotting Keebo sitting at one of the tables near the window.

There he is. Now, how does Ouma-kun usually approach him again? Doesn’t he tackle him while shouting some rude nickname or something, he asked himself.

He shrugged.

I’ll just wing it, he thought to himself.

“Hiya, Keeboy!” Shuichi shouted as he tackled Keebo.

Keebo let out a startled shout, AirPods flying out of his ears at the force. Some people gave them looks, but turned back to what they were doing soon after.

Shuichi let out a relieved sigh.

Thank god we’re in the green zone. I can be as loud as I need to be, he thought to himself.

“Ou-Ouma-kun!” Keebo exclaimed.

“Nishishi! Spooked you, didn’t I? Did your heart leap out of your chest when I did that?” he asked.

“Of course it did! Who wouldn’t be terrified by that?!”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Shuichi moved to sit down across from him as Keebo bent down and picked up his AirPods from the floor.

I’m so sorry, Keebo-kun. Once this whole situation is over, I’ll come and apologize to you myself, he thought to himself as he placed Kokichi’s backpack on top of the table.

Keebo sighed as he placed his AirPods on the table and paused his music.

“Well? How were classes today?” he asked.

“Just dandy!” Shuichi chirped.

“That’s good.” Keebo replied.

Shuichi pulled out the materials he needed to work on and got to work. Keebo did the same, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence. As he worked, he couldn’t help but think about Kokichi.

I hope he’s doing alright...I mean, I told him what he needed to do in order to survive having lunch with Akamatsu-san and Harukawa-san, but I can’t help worrying over him, he thought to himself.

He sighed, setting his pencil down as Keebo spoke.

“So, are you still going to that mixer?” he asked.

“The mixer?” Shuichi questioned.

Great, even Keebo-kun’s asking...I am so tempted to say no, but at the same time, I shouldn’t let my emotions get the better of me, he told himself.

“Yeah. Are you still going with Amami-kun?” Keebo asked.

“Well...” Shuichi reached up to twirl some hair around his finger. “Yeah, I still am.” he replied.

Keebo stared at him with an incredulous look on his face.

“I still can’t believe you’re going, let alone actually agreeing to it.” he stated.

This made Shuichi arch a brow.

Keebo-kun’s acting like he’s against it...come to think of it, Amami-kun also seemed surprised when I confirmed that he was still going to the mixer...he even mentioned something about me...I wonder why that is, he wondered to himself.

“Hm? How come?” he asked.

“I mean, I don’t see why you would go if you have feelings for Saihara-kun...” Keebo trailed off.

The world screeched to a sudden halt. Shuichi’s eyes widened as he stared at Keebo in shock.

He...what?

“...Huh?” he asked.

“What do you mean, huh? You like Saihara-kun and you’ve liked him from the very moment you saw him! How come you’re acting so surprised about this? You’re always gushing over him and telling me everything from how he helped you with your homework to how you like it when he’s shirtless because he has such a ‘killer body.’” Keebo explained.

Shuichi felt his cheeks turn red.

I had no idea he felt this way about me...he’s thought of me the same way I thought of him, but he’s liked me from the very beginning, he thought to himself.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he failed to hear Keebo call out his name. The snapping of fingers was what pulled him out of his trance, eyes blinking rapidly as Keebo gazed at him in concern.

“Ouma-kun?” he asked.

“Ah! Sorry, it’s just...” he resumed twirling some hair around his finger, doing it faster than last time. “You brought it up so suddenly that I couldn’t help but react that way...” he trailed off.

“I see...well, I guess that’s normal.” Keebo pulled away (Shuichi has no idea of how close Keebo leaned in towards his face until he withdrew) and propped his elbows up on the table, resting his face in his hands. “Also, didn’t you say you were going to confess to him? What happened to that?” he asked.

“Huh?! C-Confess to Saihara-chan?!” Shuichi exclaimed in shock.

At that point, the blush on his cheeks had spread to his ears. He bit his lip, twirling his hair around his finger even faster as Keebo watched him in surprise.

“You’re acting like a flustered schoolgirl, which is so not like you. Are you okay?” he asked.

“Y-Yeah! No need to worry about me! I’m okay, Keeboy!” Shuichi replied.

He tried to calm the quick racing of his heart as he stared down at the open notebook before him.

Oh my god, he even planned on confessing to me soon?! This is crazy, totally crazy, he thought to himself.

Then, another thought hit him.

Wait a minute...if Ouma-kun has feelings for me—

“Then why...?” he trailed off.

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Keebo said with an exasperated sigh.

Shuichi bit his lip as he looked back down at the open notebook, thinking about this sudden revelation.

This is all so weird...

Shuichi sighed.

I’m going to need to get to the bottom of this.

💜💜💜💜

Shuichi arrived back at the dorm room he shared with Kokichi after being at the library with Keebo. Upon stepping inside, he saw Kokichi digging through his closet before pulling a set of clothes out.

It was a loose, white cardigan with gold stars all over it, a light blue button-up shirt, and dark denim skinny jeans.

He laid them out on the bed as he looked over and locked eyes with Shuichi.

“Oh... you’re back.” he said.

As soon as Kokichi spoke, he was immediately reminded of what Keebo told him in the library.

Oh god, now that I know Ouma-kun likes me back, this feels so awkward, he thought to himself.

“Hm? Saihara-chan, your face is red. Are you alright?” Kokichi called out.

“H-Huh? Uh, yeah, I’m alright.” Shuichi replied.

“Mmmm, you sure about that? Because your face says otherwise.” Kokichi commented.

Shuichi swallowed as Kokichi made his way over to him. He backed up until his back was pressed against the door, Kokichi trapping him against it. Shuichi’s mind was going haywire.

Oh god, oh god, oh god, he’s so close! Very close! He’s completely towering over me! I wonder if this is how feels each time he’s beside me, he told himself.

Kokichi peered at him before reaching out and pressing the palm of his hand against Shuichi’s forehead.

“Hmm...it doesn’t seem like you have a fever...” he mused.

Shuichi’s cheeks turned redder as Kokichi flipped his hand over so that the back of it was against his forehead. He withdrew his hand soon after and a smirk crossed his lips.

“My, your cheeks got even redder. Maybe it’s because I’m close to you like this?” he asked.

“That’s...!” Shuichi squeaked out.

“Oh my god, were you thinking something dirty?! Man, Saihara-chan’s not as pure as I thought he was!” Kokichi exclaimed.

“That’s not what it is, Ouma-kun! Also, don’t say those kinds of things with my face!” Shuichi shouted.

Kokichi laughed as he pulled away from Shuichi and made his way back over to the bed.

“So, I took out the clothes that I’m going to be wearing to the mixer.” Kokichi pulled out a pair of black boots and placed them at the foot of the bed. “You have to meet up with Amami-chan in front of the dorms for seven fifteen and then you guys will go to the mixer from there. Put that on and then I’ll help you with makeup and stuff.” he explained.

“I see...” Shuichi trailed off.

He stared at Kokichi as he began to think.

I need to tell him now. There is no way I can keep quiet about this forever, now that I know how he feels about me, he thought to himself.

He balled his hands into fists as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Actually, Ouma-kun...before I go and get changed, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” he said.

He let the backpack fall to the ground beside his feet as Kokichi turned to look at him.

“Yeah? What’s up?” he answered.

“Well...” Shuichi’s tongue darted out to lick at his lips. “I just want to know, why are you going to that mixer, anyway?” he asked.

“Why? It’s because Amami-chan didn’t want to go alone, so I decided to go with him.” Kokichi replied.

“But, you said you had no intentions of going before because you already have someone you like, didn’t you?”

“Yeah? But now I’m going. I don’t understand what you’re trying to imply, Saihara-chan.”

“It’s just...it doesn’t make sense!” Shuichi stared at him. “Why would you still go to the mixer despite the fact that you’re in love with me?!” he asked.

Kokichi grew still, his eyes wide in shock.

“Wait...what did you say?” he asked.

“I heard from Keebo-kun while I was at the library. You had feelings for me from day one and you even planned on confessing to me soon.” Shuichi said.

Kokichi’s hand flew over his mouth.

“Oh, dammit...” he mumbled.

“Why is it, despite the fact that you like me, you’re going to a mixer?!” Shuichi asked.

“Why should it matter to you? Are you also in love with me? Is that why?” Kokichi shot back.

Shuichi’s eyes widened.

“How did you find that out?” he asked.

“Akamatsu-chan said it! She was asking if you told me yet that you—wait. When I teased you about having a crush on me because you were acting like me going to this mixer was such a bad idea...that was true? You actually do have a crush on me?” Kokichi asked.

“Yes, it’s true. I like you too, Ouma-kun.” Shuichi made his way over to Kokichi. “So, you better not go to that damn mixer or else you’ll really regret it.” he said.

“Saihara-cha—“ he was cut off by Shuichi grabbing his wrist and yanking him down, their lips colliding in a kiss.

Kokichi stiffened at first but kissed back soon after. His arms went to wrap around Shuichi as they moved toward’s Shuichi’s bed, Kokichi climbing on top of him. Shuichi wrapped his arms around Kokichi’s neck.

This is definitely not how I was imagining my first kiss with him to go...oh, whatever. That means nothing compared to the fact that I’m actually kissing him right now, Shuichi thought to himself.

Shuichi pulled away, eyes slowly opening as he looked to see that Kokichi was under him rather than above him.

“Wait...what are you doing below me?” he asked.

That was when he noticed that he was speaking with his own voice rather than Kokichi’s. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait...could it be...?” he asked.

“We changed back.” Kokichi commented.

It was silent between them for a few minutes before Kokichi burst into loud laughter.

“Oh my god, we’re back in our bodies! I’m me again!” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shuichi said with a laugh of his own.

“I can’t believe all we had to do was kiss.”

“I know, right? That was interesting.”

Just then, Kokichi’s phone dinged. He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone, reading the message that flashed across the screen.

“Ouma-kun? Who is it from?” Shuichi asked.

“Amami-chan. He’s asking for confirmation on the meeting place.” Kokichi replied.

“Oh...” Shuichi trailed off.

“Let me respond to him, one minute.” Kokichi said.

Shuichi’s lips pulled into a frown as he watched Kokichi type away on his phone.

Don’t tell me that after all this, he’s still going to go, he asked himself.

He felt his heart sink at the thought as Kokichi locked his phone and tossed it into a random corner of the bed.

“There, all done.” Kokichi stared up at Shuichi. “What’s wrong? You look like a kicked puppy.” he commented.

“I do not look like a kicked puppy!” Shuichi complained.

“Yeah, you do.” Kokichi replied.

Shuichi pouted.

“It’s just...what did you say to him?” he asked.

“Oh, that. I just told him that I’m not going to go to the mixer after all because I have something else to do.” Kokichi reached up to touch Shuichi’s cheek. “I need to spend some time with my beloved boyfriend, don’t you think?” he said.

Shuichi felt his heart soar at the words “beloved boyfriend.”

Oh my god.

I feel so giddy.

Holy shit.

He completely ignored the fact that Kokichi told Rantaro he wasn’t going to the mixer anymore. He just felt incredibly happy that his feelings were requited. He got off of Kokichi and laid down on the bed beside him. Kokichi curled up against his side as Shuichi spoke.

“So? Why were you going to go to the mixer in the first place?” Shuichi asked.

“Well...I started thinking that maybe you didn’t like me back, so I decided that maybe it would be better to go.” Kokichi smiled up at him. “But now that I know you like me back, I have no reason to go.” he explained.

“I see...I’m happy.”

“I can tell.”

Shuichi turned to lay on his side, staring at Kokichi as he stroked his hair.

“I love you.” he said.

Kokichi giggled.

“I love you too.” he replied as their lips came together in another kiss.

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boulbilehibot · 5 years ago

Text

Accomplices once more.

Sorry again about my bad english!Sorry for conjunction and vocabulary:D writing with dyslexia in an other language is not easy! ( Yeah no shit Sherlock, but I like it anyway!! :D)

It was bad. Really Really bad

They was trying to get out of the conglomerate of tunnels that formed "Big Villain" Base. By the natural light he was beginning to see, they were close to the exit. Finally.

They had been held captive without even knowing why. Since... They didn't known when!

The hero and the villain forced to be roommates between torture sessions.

Well, it's not like there never shared a lodgement before. But in this time, they weren't even twenty years olds. And they're room had a bed! Well, even two beds actually! Big luxury in the present time.

Villain had a hard time speaking to hero during the first week of their detention.

Since the night of the accident where they had loose their friend; Each one had take a very different pace. Only sending a birthday and a new year text twice in a year. " Only remnants of such long complicity since childhood. Villain couldn't take the goodness that Hero shows to the evil kind of human who can kill a teenager out to see a movie.

It wasn't there fault. But seeing their best friend get brutally murdered for no reason ,gived them a purpose in life. Stopping they're med school. One to kill every killer he would have knowledge off . The other one arresting them and calling the police.

-"so it's that kind of garbage that you're so proud to let alive? " Had shout Villain, going back from a really severe session. Bloody and sweaty, turning down the proposal of help from Hero.

-" If we play Gods, why would we consider ourselves better? " Hero had respond, putting some water next to him. "We wanted to save life when we were little the three of us. I just can't kill an other human myself... "

They

Torture had decrease for Villain. "Big Villain" Probably had what he wanted (whatever it was...). Or had deducted that he didn't interested him after all.

But for Hero, it had increased in double pain.

Communication finally coming back after Hero had once been thrown up in the cell. Face pale as a ghost, lips blue, choking in his bile. White foam forming on his lips in abundance. Convulsing a bit before falling inanimate. He had been heavily drugged. Wrong dosage maybe? 'Cause he was clearly overdosing.

Villain was then forced to interact with Hero. Clearing is airways. Putting him in recovery position. Assuring his breathing. Moving him when he puked. Putting whatever tissue he could find under his head. Trying to soothing him, reassure him when he was sobbing, groaning or ranting in his delirium. Forcing him to drink a little to stay hydrated.

Hero was better after two days and then, tortures retook. Harder than ever.

But while their relation had greatly improved, their was more capable to observe the guardsmen, thinking of a plan. Villain was a mess. Malnourished since weeks, showered with ice cold. And Hero was unrecognizable. An hamas of bruises, cuts, crusts... Way much thinner than usual. His face loosing his usual bright and large smile.

They had been fed the day before. Generally, it wasn't a good sign for Hero . It was often a way to make him stay conscious more time.

Their feelings wasn't wrong. This time, he had returned covered in blood and soft as a rag doll.

-I imagine that you prefer him alive to? Had said a bastard sidekick of "Big Villain". Throwing to villain the necessary to treat the gap way to deep and large that Hero had on his hip. Letting Hero fall of his arms freely and closing the door.

Villain had felt his guts twist and the urge to puke. He wasn't even sure that Hero was still alive... Pressed himself to kneel beside him.

-Fuck!

Taking his pulse, pressing his ears to Hero's chest to check his breathing. The two, way too fast. Way to shallow. Blood flows abundantly, hero being unconscious.

-Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

Villain says while he takes the material to wash his wound, sew it up, bandage it.

He go as fast as he can. By the greatest luck, Hero is still breathing as he finish.

He is shocked. Blood all over is hands and he doesn't even realize that he is doing himself a war paint on the face with it as he cover his face to scream in frustration.

-"Vi-Vill~t's ok." Manage to blow Hero, poking villain knees with the back of his fingers. " 'll be ok... "

-"Shut up! Scream villain. It's not ok! Your dying! Shut up and breath!"

Hero cough, moan and bit his lips from the pain coughing produced. Then crack a weak, trembling smile.

-" 'Ways so so-soft... Really goo-goodd car~r choice..."

-"shhh I'm serious. Don't talk. Breathe. Try to stay awake... Please Hero"

His eyes were blinking more and more longer. Villain trying to stimulate him by gently scrubbing the top of his naked chest.

-"holli-hollidays~'can sl-sleep...carry 'n my bed?"

-"What? "Asked Villain, putting his palm on Hero forehead. He was ice cold. And completely delirious.

- "Fuck... "

-" 'at? "

- "nothing, nothing okay? Come here. " He says as he cover him from their thin blanket and lay down behind him, trying to keep him warm by every means at his disposal.

- " If you go too sleep, who's going to debate with me? " He asked with an anxiety still verry audible"

-"mmm not long, tired"

The twenty minutes he had to wait to try to knock the guard with their key felt like an eternity.

Trying to keep is retrieved friend awake. Talking to him, gently shaking him as soon as he sinking into darkness. Caressing his hair.

But eventually it was time. Villain stand at the angle of the cell. He wait, wait, wait... And right when he passed to his scoop; he violently take him by the collar and slammed him against the cell's bars.

Quickly, he took the keys and try to find the gone one. He opened the door, taking the keys in the pocket of his pants.

Villain kneel again beside Hero.

-"I'm taking us out of here. "

-"where? " hero mumbles

-"Ush, just listen, need you to focus". He shook Hero's cheek.

"We have to be quick and silent. I'm going to carry you on my back, run and get us out of here. It's going to hurt like hell. And you need to shut up please. Know it's unfair. But if you scream, they will spot us and back to starting point. Just... Please, please try to be silent. Do you get it? "

-" Yeah... No scream noise... "

-"Good." Villain squats, tied Hero frail wrists and passed them on is shoulder. Before grabbing the two legs of his pants.

Hero's face twist weirdly.

-" Don't puke on me neither... And up we go. " Villain whisper as he stand and grab Hero's thighs.

-"Arg! Vi-Ugh~ unn " Hero groan while his head falls on Villain Shoulder. His shallow breath on Villain's neck. Head lolling limply as Villain begin to walk.

Villain knows that his friends his now completely passed out. Worrisome... But at least he while not make a sound...

#hero whump #villain whump #blood #whump #caretaker #drugged #overdose

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catsafarithewriter · 5 years ago

Text

Day 1: Outer Space

A/N: It’s started! Welcome to the TCR Birthday Bash 2019 - and day one begins with Outer Space. I’m taking a sort of anachronistic amalgamation of sci-fi (a few places from Star Trek, a species from Star Wars, a little actual space science from my meagre knowledge) and smushing them together. None of this fits either series, it’s just an easy little head-nod. (And saves me having to make up names.)

There was hair in Haru��s eyes.

There was hair in Haru’s eyes and there was nothing she could do about it.

She tilted her head back, her breath echoing back to her in the confines of the EVA helmet, but that just achieved another loose strand falling across her face . Typical. She squinted between her hair and lowered her gold visor down against the glare of Darmok II’s sun that was beaming blindingly through the hole where her ship’s bow had once been.

At her lowered visor, the sun’s beams became tolerable. It did not, however, stop the flashing red warning lights.

Something trickled along the back of her neck and into the specially-designed absorption pad at the nape of her helmet. It felt sticky. Sweat, possibly. Another droplet ran down her nose and onto her lips. She tasted metal.

Blood.

“Fine rescue mission this turned out to be,” she mumbled to no one.

It wasn’t even her job. She was just a mechanic by trade, shuttled over to Tanagra Space Station to replace their last expert in Quadex power cores.

(Quite how they had misplaced the previous mechanic, Haru hadn’t been told, but weird things tended to happen when you worked on a space station on the edge of the Neutral Zone - the expanse of impartial space between Federation and Cathar territory.)

(She was pretty sure she didn’t want to know the answer anyway.)

So, long story short, there was really no reason why she should have detoured off course to respond to the weak distress call emanating from Darmok II, except that no one else was close enough to hear it and her mother didn’t raise a quitter. (She had, however, raised a fool, and Haru was quickly learning the two were a potent mix for stupidly rash decisions.)

Haru pulled herself over to the shattered console, trying to find an explanation for why her ship’s electronics had suddenly cut out halfway through the planet’s meagre atmosphere. The solar panels were still in one piece though, and the backup generator had kicked in and was devoting most of its power to warning its sole occupant that there was a breach in pressure.

Haru glanced back up to the giant tear in the ship’s hull. “No shit, Sherlock,” she muttered before proceeding to switch off the alarms. The red lights dimmed and were replaced with an unsteady glow. She began to appraise the situation.

The communication console was shattered beyond repair. A shard of the hull embedded into the panel had seen to that. Well, better the console than Haru, although if she couldn't get a signal up to Tanagra, then she was probably as good as dead anyway. The shuttle had an oxygen reclaimer that would work indefinitely, but that required water and power and not being open to the vacuum of space.

Her suit, on the other hand, was still intact, but it only had about six hours before the carbon dioxide scrubbers ran out. She shifted across the wrecked shuttle and felt the stronger gravity of Darmok II weigh her down. Five hours, she amended. Her suit readouts confirmed her heart rate was already rising, along with her oxygen intake. Not fatal. Not worrying, short-term anyway. She wouldn’t be on this planet long enough to test the long-term effects - one way or another.

The scanner was still working though. Great. So she could be extra sure she was dying alone while the life support system in her suit ran dry. Typical.

A single dot onscreen beeped to the ship’s starboard.

Or... not so alone, she amended.

She fumbled with the display until it informed her that, yes, there was another life form on this planet. Faint, but alive. And close. Two kilometres, as improbable as that was.

The SOS call. It had to be.

So, option one: Attempt to revive her ship to send out a distress call to reach Tanagra. Hope she could get it up and working in under five hours.

Option two: locate the SOS ship and modulate their communications system to Tanagra’s signal. Hope it was possible. Hope their console was in better state than hers. Hope their ship wasn’t running out of oxygen.

If she had any common sense, she would side with option one.

The little dot continued to beep and Haru muttered a curse.

Common sense had never been her forte.

The SOS ship was, ironically, in a better shape than Haru’s.

She clambered onto the rocky outcrop it had crash-landed on, and leant heavily against the hull. Geez, the extra gravity was taking its toll. Her suit informed her that it was 1.2g - just a little over Earth’s usual gravity, but she wasn’t accustomed to Earth. She was accustomed to space and floating and not having to carry her own weight.

She leant there for a few moments longer. The carbon dioxide scrubbers levels sank a little lower. Time was marching on.

She rolled her head to one side and eyed the ship. It was damaged and dented and dull, but there was no insignia on it. She located the exterior hatch and, after some prodding and poking and muttered curses, navigated her way inside and through the airlock.

She froze at the hatch.

The source of the life signs sat in the cockpit of the shuttle. Unconscious. No blood. They wore an EVA suit - similar in function to Haru’s, but altered in design - with helmet removed. Haru tried to focus on those details and not the fact that she was staring at a Cathar.

His face was feline - although Haru had been told that there was no actual feline ancestry in the Cathar race, just a coincidence of the universe - but it was quite one thing to know, another thing to see. Ginger fur ran across his face, cream markings resting beneath his eyes. His mouth was ajar. Haru could see sharp canine teeth.

A Cathar. She inhaled sharply. The pure oxygen intake made her momentarily dizzy. What was a Cathar even doing on this side of the Neutral Zone? The Federation and the Cathar weren’t exactly enemies but... there was a reason for the Neutral Zone. Relations were taut. History was fraught. And she was standing in a Cathar shuttle.

She exhaled and made herself approach. Enemy or no, she had responded to his distress signal. And she was here now.

She gently set the helmet onto his head, clicking it into place and trying to avoid catching his whiskers. His suit’s readout confirmed he wasn’t dead. Somehow. There was a heartbeat - slow, almost impossibly slow - his body in complete shut-down. A form of hibernation, perhaps? Torpor? A way to survive the killing environment he was stuck in? The suit looked undamaged. Power still running. His oxygen tanks were empty.

She shouldn’t do it. Time was tight enough against her even as it was, let alone halving her remaining air to save - to try to save - someone who could turn against her.

She replaced one of his used oxygen tanks with one of her full ones. It probably wouldn’t be enough to revive him, but perhaps it would be enough to stop him dying. The hibernation would only sustain him for so long, after all.

She collapsed down into the seat beside him and located something resembling an update of the ship’s functions. It was airtight, but unbreathable. The oxygen reclaimer - or the equivalent on the ship - looked to have been damaged in the crash. The power was low, but only because the solar panels had been misaligned. The communications console was working - and still sending out the SOS - but the system was unrecognisable. She’d need to be a Cathar to understand it.

Maybe if she could get the oxygen reclaimer from her ship, she could buy a little more time...

Movement flickered in the corner of her visor and she turned just in time to see the Cathar lung at her. She screamed, jolted back, and smacked against the side of the ship, the Cathar pinning her into place and his visor inches away from her own.

He growled something in a language Haru didn’t understand.

“I’m not here to hurt you!” Haru yelped back. She tried to shift away, but the Cathar’s grip was strong. “I’m just trying to help!”

The Cathar didn’t release her. He said something else, something Haru again didn’t recognise.

“I... I don’t understand,” Haru faltered. Dammit. Naturally the universal translator would be broken too. On both their ends, it would seem. “But I was trying to help.” She held up her hands in what she hoped was a universal sign for placating. “I’m just,” she repeated, calmly, “trying to help.”

The Cathar’s gaze flickered over the rest of his ship, over the console Haru had manhandled to bring up the ship’s readouts, and then back to Haru herself. His eyes were bright green, almost gemlike. Slitted and feline. Definitely not human. He started to say something else and then those gemlike eyes unfocused and his legs buckled.

Haru caught him, to the surprise of them both.

“You’re welcome,” she grunted. She set him back in his seat and, against all her survival instincts, clattered down into the chair beside him. “That’s what you get for trying a stunt like that so soon after waking up.” She groaned and watched her air tick ever lower. “Look, I know you can’t understand me, but we don’t have much time and we need to do something otherwise we’re both going to die in...” She did the calculations, “two hours.”

The Cathar didn’t say anything.

“Honestly, I came here to help. Check your oxygen levels if you don’t believe me.” She motioned weakly to the tanks attached to his back and hoped it was self-explanatory enough.

He gave her a long, baleful stare, but eventually cast his attention to his suit. She could tell he had found the oxygen readout when he went very still. He uttered a single, questioning word.

She tapped the communication console, where the distress call was just about still working, and then tapped the side of her helmet. “I heard you. I didn’t realise it was a Cathar ship at the time,” she muttered to herself, “but I still heard you.”

From the confusion in his eyes, her answer didn’t seem adequate.

She moved onto other matters, pulling herself out of her seat and towards the back of the small craft. She ignored the way the Cathar leant away from her as she passed. She tapped the defunct oxygen reclaimer. “I have a working one in my ship,” she said, motioning her words as best she could. “We could bring it here and survive a little longer. But I need your help to move it. Do you understand?”

The Cathar rose to his feet, and now it was Haru’s turn to lean away. He was tall. Not beyond human height, but still... tall enough for her to step back. He eyed the oxygen reclaimer, his gaze no longer aggressive, but still wary. He nodded.

Moving the oxygen reclaimer alone would have been completely impossible.

Between two, it was just nearly impossible.

Haru collapsed down into the small craft, alarms beeping inside her suit and red warning signs on the life system readouts.

Stupid, really. She’d accounted for collecting the oxygen reclaimer, but not for the extra oxygen intake/carbon dioxide outtake while dragging it across Darmok II, or for the hour it would take to refill the Cathar’s ship to a breathable atmosphere.

She was going to asphyxiate by an error of sixty minutes.

The world swan before her eyes, the headache she’d been ignoring for the last hour now pulsing through her brain. The Cathar had his back to her, fiddling with some panelling in the wall and barely sparing her a glance. Charming.

“See if I save your life next time,” she wheezed. Typical. If she’d known Cathars had a lower respiration rate, she would have saved a little more air for herself.

He turned to her, tubing and mask in one hand, and detached his oxygen tank. Haru inhaled sharply - or tried to, anyway. Her head just span some more. The world momentarily flickered. “What...?”

He approached. Haru couldn’t have scooted away even if she’d wanted to. She was concentrating on not blacking out. She couldn’t even spare the energy to flinch as he placed his gloved hands around her helmet. After a long moment, he found what he was looking for and removed it. He attached the mask to the lower half of her face and motioned for her to breath.

She gasped and oxygen - wonderful oxygen - rushed into her lungs. She didn’t even realise she was leaning against the Cathar until he tapped the mask and she looked up.

Satisfied she wasn’t still inhaling, he removed his own helmet and took a breath from the oxygen mask himself.

“Thank you,” she mumbled the next time it was her turn.

The Cathar tilted his head.

She motioned to the makeshift oxygen mask, and then between the two of them. “For, you know, not leaving me to die.”

She wasn’t sure he understood, but he almost seemed to smile. Maybe that would be enough.

She leant away, straightening and patting her chest. “Haru.” If they were going to be stuck together until they figured a way off this planet - or until death came for them - she would at least know the name of her companion. “Haru,” she repeated, and then gestured to him.

There was definitely a smile this time.

“Baron.”

#tcr birthday bash 2019 #tcr birthday bash #the cat returns #day 1 outer space #the actual premise i'm borrowing from a next gen star trek ep #called darmok #i've also been flipping through a book called ask an astronaut #for uh actually wolf 359 purposes #but there's been some fun things I learnt #oh and also inspiration taken from the martian and artemis #concept haru and baron stuck on a planet together and have to work together to get off #god that got long

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tunesscribbles · 6 years ago

Text

Monkey D. Luffy x Reader

AN:(implied female reader)

Luffy Is Romantic?

Today was the day! Your birthday! And this was the first time you celebrated it together with the funniest and weirdest Pirate-Crew in the world, The Strawhats. The evening before you've been as excited as Sanji when he heard Nami and Robin would take a sunbath in their bikinis...well maybe not that kind of excited... However, the main fact is: It was the Best Birthday ever! And of course there was a big party in the evening with a gigantic birthday cake, made from the one and only Sanji. After the gifts were opened and the cake was eaten there was only one person who has given you no gift. Your Captain Monkey D. Luffy. It disappointed you a bit, but you thought he might had baught you something to eat and accidently ate it himself or something like that, or he didn't even knew what his crew was celebrating. It would fit him to go celebrate without knowing why. But it was pretty obvious that it was your birthday today even...anything that is sillier than Luffy should have noticed that. He even sang „Happy Birthday“ along with the others,so he really should know it, right? Right?? A mixture of a chuckle and a sigh left your lips as you stared into your glass. Suddenly two hands covered your eyes and you heard a very familiar laughter behind you. “Luffy?“ you could hear his “Shishishishi~“ again. "I haven't given you a gift, have I?“,he asked with his usual playful voice. “...No...but it's okay.“,you mumbled as you felt your face heat up under his hands. “No, it's not!“,he suddenly said rather harsh, which causes you to jump slightly. “I'm the Captain,it's my job to give every of my nakama a birthday gift!“,he explained. You haven't heard of such a duty before but, if he says so? After all, he's the Captain and who were you to argue with your captain's logic? “If you say so,what's my gift then?“,you asked curiously. “Follow me,but keep your eyes shut!“ “But how am I supposed to follow you if I can't see where you're going?“ “Hm...Ah,I'll carry you then! Now Let's go!“,he picked you up and ran out of the kitchen. After a short time ,which can feel like forever if you're curious and you were, you arrived and he sat you down on something. You felt the fresh sea wind play with your hair and heard the sound waves. “You can open your eyes now!“,he said and you did. What you saw was an horizon that seemed endless and a sky full of stars. But the important thing was not what you saw in front of you, it's what you sat on! “L-Luffy!“, you gasped. „You let me sit on Sunny's head?! I thought only you are allowed to sit here?“ The raven haired male was silent for a few seconds and eventually answered: “I am the only one who's allowed to sit here! But I'm also the only one who can allow others to sit here, too! I spent a week thinking of what I could get you for your birthday...“ You were shocked about the fact that Luffy actually did think! “Eventually I decided to allow you to sit here, because I like you!“ Your cheeks flushed a bit, but you were pretty sure he means „liking you“ as nakama-stuff. “Thanks Luffy, that's the best gift I got today and I like you, too!“, you replied without thinking about it much and gave him the cutest smile you could make. “Shishishi~ I knew I've chosen the right one!“,he said and put his precious straw hat on your head and placed his on your lap. You blinked in confusion and looked into his smiling face. “The right one ...for what?“,you asked after you got your voice back. He let out a yawn and closed his eyes before he answered drowsy. “Being my Queen of Pirates of course!“ It took you longer to realize what he just said than him to fall asleep on your lap. His Queen of Pirates? Did that mean he-he just- Your face blushed a thousend times and you let out a still confused „E-Eh??“ But then you calmed down and smiled. “And I've chosen the right one to fall in love with!“, you whispered, placed a peck on his forehead and started humming his favourite song for him. Extended Ending: “Nami-chwan, Robin-chwan, have you seen [Name]-chwan?“,Sanji asked. “Or Luffy?“,the reindeer added. “You're searching them, too?“, the Navigator asked back. “Yep, they must've disappeared when we weren't watching.“, Zorro said. “Oh, no shit Sherlock!“, the cook hissed. “What'cha sayin,you shitty ero-cook?“ “WE FOUND THEM!“, shouted Usoop and Brook together. “They are on Sunny's head and-“,Usoop said but Brook decided to finish that sentence. “It seems like Luffy's sleeping on [Name]-san's lap. Yohohohohoho~“ “HE'S DOING WHAT EXACTLY???“ Sanji was about to run over and kick his captain into the ocean but got stopped by the girls. “YOU'RE NOT DOING ANYTHING!“, screamed Nami and hit him. “It seems like these two are having a special moment.“ Robin supposed causing all the guys to stare for a second, well exept Sanji who was still knocked out. “They're having a what?“, they all asked in unison. “You guys are so unromantic!“,Nami said and walked off with Robin leaving the boys behind. Dumbfounded. “Does that mean Luffy is romantic?“,Chopper asks. “Who knows?“,Usoop said. “All I know is that I'm surrounded by idiots!“ “OII,ZORRO!“, they yelled after the swordsman. Extended Extended Ending: “COULD YOU SHUT THE HELL UP?? YOU'RE WAKING LUFFY UP!!“ a very angry scream was heard, which made all the boys jump, even Zorro. „Gomen Nasai!~“

#god this is...so old...and so dumb #but people like it so whatever #up it goes #monkey d. luffy #mugiwara no luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #fluff #reader insert #straw hat crew #kind of strawhats x reader as well #I could tag all the crewmembers but I'm too lazy for that #the scribbles

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darling-i-read-it · 6 years ago

Text

Murder Mystery

Sherlock Holmes x reader

Word Count: 1255

Warnings: murder, blood

Author’s Note: I really really loved this one! I really hope you like it! Also, HAPPY HALLOWEEN DEAR!

Request: made loosley by @swanky-batman

Summary: Sherlock and the reader go on a murder mystery run on Halloween.

Genre: mystery? Fluff? horror?

(not my gif)

“No murder mysteries on Halloween I don’t care if you want one if one doesn’t come then don’t seek one out,” you yelled at Sherlock. He was reloading his crossbow in the living room and you were making tea. “And please don’t shoot the wall I’m tired of having to clean the wall.”

“You just call Mrs. Hudson you never clean it up yourself,” he pointed out gravley and you heard the sound of an arrow hitting the wall, sighing. You poured the tea and walked into the living room, placing one on the table beside him. You brushed a hand through his black locks and forced him to look at you and not at the wallpaper which was going to need to be patched up again.

“You’re going to get a case aren’t you?” you whispered. Sherlock nodded but let you keep holding his cheek as you watched him. He stood up quickly, his pajama pants dragging on the floor. He looked like he was ready to collapse and you laughed as he walked into the bedroom, throwing clothes on the floor.

You waited as he dressed and drank your tea at your chair by the fireplace. You watched as the flames licked at the wood hungraily and waited patiently.

“Darling?! Can you bring me my tea?” he called from the bedroom. You sighed and got up, leaving your own cup for his to bring over. You handed it to him and noticed his regular work attire, the long black trench coat and scarf.

“Don’t you look nice! Here’s your tea. Who’s the unlucky brit this time around?” you asked. Sherlock smiled lightly, watching as you fixed his scarf a little more. Typically he would swat your hand away and say something about the fact he could do it alone but today was Halloween, careful and true, your day.

It had been as specially you, more so than your birthday and so today he was extra nice, extra loving but also extra hard on the case. You smiled at him and slipped on your own jacket.

“His name is Luke Kin,” he told you, putting on his shoes.

“Oh? I think you’re talking about the suicide. It’s been all over the papers my dear,” you told him truthfully. You waited for him to correct you. It was your favorite part.

“Murder actually. Wrong hand, bullet punctures etc etc. You know it all by now my darling,” he told you leaving. You grinned.

“You’re right I do. I can also guess his killer but we’ll play our game tonight,” you told him, trailing a finger along his defined cheekbone as you passed. You two played a game sometimes on murder mysteries. It depended on the sensitivity of the topic but today being Halloween you couldn’t not. You would both make answers on who the killer was and see who was correct without sharing any evidence.

Your motto for this game was, as requested, ‘Finders Keepers Love’.

The game was currently tied at 7-7. Tonight was the winning factor.

Sherlock gave you a smile and you walked briskly to the door, entering the outside world and grinning at how cold it was. The chill was bad but with your both heavy jackets it was hard to notice as you waved down a cab. You both got inside and went straight to the phones, reading all you can about the case in the short 15 minutes it took you to get to the crime scene.

You had quite the notes in the notes app by the time you got there.

“Male, 23, college student, lived alone, one living family member, death by pain meds, constant doctor's appointment, no therapy, only person there is the neighbors, joggers and dog, lonely person but active in work, hard worker, architect” and so on and so forth. You got out just as it began to rain. There was a woman there, sitting on the edge of the road, sobbing.

You got to her just a second before Sherlock did.

“What’s wrong sweetie?” you asked softly and she hugged you, sobbing into your shoulder. You looked up to see Sherlock talking to Greg.

“It was a ghost!” she screamed. A clap of thunder hit your ears and she started crying again.

“What do you mean?” you asked carefully. She was blubbering.

“I mean i saw him. I saw him but he was already dead! He was just standing there, over the body of him. Oh miss it was so scary!” she screamed and you nodded.

“It’s alright. I’ll take a look.” You let her go and walked to the house, passing Greg and Sherlock who eyed you as you walked under the caution tape. Anderson tried to stop you but you shook your head and ran up the stairs. You came across a body, laying there unattended to, a little 5 marker by the head. You saw no ghosts although you were hoping a little that you would. You examined the body over a little and then ran to Greg. Sherlock was passing you as you did and you blew him a kiss as you walked by.

“Watch for ghosts my dear!” you called.

“Ghost’s aren’t real!” he told you back. You approached Greg.

“Alright who’s the suspect?” you asked. He laughed.

“You and Sherlock. The same person sometimes. The victim's boyfriend,” Greg explained and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Domestic abuse? Fighting? Accident?” Greg shook his head.

“He died a week ago.” You laughed.

“Ghosts aren’t real Lestrade,” you explained. Greg shrugged.

“It’s halloween. You never know.” You walked away and talked to witnesses and other police officers. Once you pulled your evidence you understood. It was so simple you couldn’t understand how the police didn’t just get it.

Once you saw Sherlock you showed him your answer and he laughed.

“Same thing.” You approached Greg.

“It was the jogger,” you started.

“She came inside. There’s track prints on the floor are wet and fresh.”

“The dog barked at noonish yeah? So it should be fresh. It’s the time in which he should have been at therapy so when he didn’t show up the doctor called you and the police and you..”

“Called you yeah,” Greg said. “It can’t just be shoes though. We need more than that.”

“Fingerprints and hair. I interviewed the jogger. She had hair in her fake nails. Not hers not the dogs. I’d test it. Along with the-”

“Obvious. She has the pills in her bag,” Sherlock finished your sentence. Greg sighed.

“Thanks again Holmes.”

“Of course.”

“Fix it yourself next time.”

And with that you and Sherlock walked away, back home back to the flat, watching as little trick or treaters passed.

You settled in later, fresh tea and warm pj’s. The lights were almost out when Sherlock said something that alarmed you.

“The ghost upstairs almost threw me. Nice one,” he whispered, putting down his book. You snapped your eyes open.

“I’m sorry?” you asked. He chuckled.

“The ghost you set up in the corpse room. Iridescent lights and projector although nice try.” You sat up.

“Sherlock I didn’t set up any ghost.”

“Of course you did.”

“I didn’t!”

And you froze.

“Then who did?”

#sherlock holmes imagines #sherlock imagines #sherlock x reader #halloween #halloween imagines

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the-sapphiresky · 6 years ago

Text

A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words

After a visit to see Mummy and Daddy Holmes, Molly leaves with some blackmail material.

"Oh, he was just the cutest baby!" Molly cooed as she leaned over to look at the photo album.

Mrs Holmes laughed and turned the page. "He took after his father, all smiles and chubby cheeks. But those cheekbones made themselves known shortly."

Molly covered her mouth when she saw the photo of Sherlock as a toddler, gaped-tooth and down to his nappy, clearly having plotted a nap-escape and gotten caught, his lips pursed in a very familiar pout.

"Found it!"

They both looked up as Mr Holmes walked in, holding another album triumphantly. Mrs Holmes eagerly took it and giggled like a woman half her age.

"This is our backup," she said in a stage-whisper to Molly. "Sherlock burned the original in a rather dramatic pyrotechnic display when he was in Uni."

"But being the Original Holmes Genius, you anticipated the possibility and had a duplicate made," Molly wondered at the older woman. "Brilliant!"

"Triplicate, actually," Mr Holmes supplied with a wink. "The third is locked away in an undisclosed location that I am afraid even you will never find."

Molly laughed and took a sip of tea before turning her attention to the album. The first few pages were of Sherlock as a young teen, a miniature version of the man he would grow up to become, complete with surly scowl.

But then the next page made her choke on her tea.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed. "Is that....oh my god!"

Mrs Holmes tsked. "Yes, this was a photo he has been desperately trying to erase from existence for decades. Mycroft took particular pleasure in keeping it safe, even has a portrait of it hanging in his home, behind bulletproof glass. For all his high and mighty ways, he is very much an older brother."

Molly fumbled for her phone. "Would it be okay, can I take a snap of it? I need something to laugh at every time he calls asking me to stay after my shift is over."

Mrs Holmes grinned cheekily and handed her the album. While Molly tried to get just the right angle, she missed the look the older Holmes' exchanged.

He calls? Mrs Holmes mouthed.

Mr Holmes just shrugged, his eyes twinkling with a secret.

oOo

Four Weeks Later

Rosie giggled in delight as Molly bopped around, singing nonsense, swooping Rosie down every once in a while to make the little girl shriek excitedly.

“Tea, Molly?" John called from the kitchen.

"Would be great, thanks. How about for little miss here?" She propped Rosie on her hip and joined John in the kicthen.

"Tya, tya!" Rosie declared, making grabby hands at the sippy cup John had ready on the counter.

John gave it to her and she latched on, guzzling it down greedily. He winked at Molly. "Milk with a dash of tea, makes her happy to be drinking a big girl drink."

Molly laughed and hugged her goddaughter closer, the little girl leaning her head against her sweetly.

From her bag, her phone started ringing. "That's probably Sherlock, begging off dinner." She started to reach for it, but John waved her off.

"I'll get it."

"Thanks," Molly said and walked over to the table. Rosie was getting heavier by the day.

"Oh my god!" John burst out into laughter, staring at her buzzing phone, dropping it and fumbling to catch it.

Rosie popped the cup out of her mouth and pointed at him. "Daddy, silly!"

John shook his head in disbelief and held out the screen for Rosie to see.

Molly bit her lip to hide her smile. She truly hadn't meant for anyone else to see it, but too late now. The photo of Sherlock appeared dead centre, unmistakably him. But instead of the styled curls they all knew, the sides of his head had been shaved down and the remaining hair on top had brushed straight and gelled into a mohawk.

A mohawk.

Tack on the nose and eyebrow piercings, he looked like someone out of an 90s cult film.

The phone rang out as Rosie giggled and reached for it, recognizing her uncle in all his dated glory.

"Where did you find that?" John managed to spit out between breaths of laughter.

Molly just smiled and redialled Sherlock. "I have my ways."

"Can you send it to me? Consider it my Christmas and Birthday gifts for the rest of my life," he begged, eyes wide.

She rolled her eyes just as the phone connected. "Hi Sherlock... No, nothing's wrong, just couldn't get to my phone in time...Yes, we are all here and waiting for you... Oh, extra egg rolls would be nice... Okay, see you soon." She paused and glanced at John nervously. "Sherlock, John is here and...okay okay," she turned her head away, a blush staining her cheeks, "I love you, too. Bye."

John raised his eyebrows. "So... things are going well?"

Molly smiled softly and nudged Rosie to drinking the last of her milk. "Very."

"I'm happy for you. Both of you," he said, his smile bittersweet. Then he clapped his hands, rubbing them together gleefully. "Now, about that photo."

****

For months, Sherlock couldn't figure out for the life of him why his friends were bursting into laughter whenever he called.

Even Sally Donovan had lost it in the background when he phoned Lestrade to get into a crime scene.

It all came together, though, when they received an early engagement gift from Mycroft.

To Molly, the tag read. To complement the photograph in your mobile.

She ripped the paper off and nearly screamed in delight. From behind a thick plate of plexi-glass, a full body version of the Mohawk Sherlock stared back at her, complete with Hammer pants and shirtless chest but for a gold chain around his neck.

"It was for a case!" Sherlock shouted, his face flaming red in embarrassment. He suddenly realised why everyone had been laughing at his calls lately and he stormed out of the room.

It took Molly several hours to convince him to forgive her (not that she was complaining at all). But the photo stayed, she declared, breathless and sated, curled up against his side in their bed. At least, the one Mycroft had given them. Just for her eyes only, she promised.

Sherlock conceded, kissing her deeply. But as she drifted off to sleep, he began plotting the demise of all of his friends....er, his friends' phones.

#sherlolly #this is just trash yall #sunday shtuff

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consultingsister-aa · 6 years ago

Note

❤ [ love, Sebastian ]

FOUR AND ONE // @asteriananthologies

❤ five four times my muse says they don’t love yours, and the one time they admit it.

I. Cecelia’s life has improved greatly the day she realised it didn’t need to be anyones birthday to buy cake. During the awkward ten minutes between her getting out of work and Charlotte getting out of school she had picked out a three layer chocolate cake, grin on her face from tesco. Of course, Charlie had chastised her for the decision, although it didn’t stop her digging in when they got home. Probably because she knew this was the closest thing Celia got to making dinner. Perched against the breakfast bar in the kitchen, while Charlie sat in one of the spinning chairs, they each attacked the cake with forks, enjoying the almost rebellious feel of not cutting it up into slices. “Do you think you and daddy would ever get back together?” Innocent eyes look up at Celia, as if she was just asking if she had a nice day at work. She knew what she was doing, Cee was sure of it.

As she chews on her mouthful of cake, she pretends to consider. She can understand her daughter’s desire. It would be nice to have a settled home life. “No. We’re very different people now. Does that make you sad?”

To her mother’s surprise, Charlie shakes her head rather vigorously, swallowing her cake before admitting, “I like having two christmases.” Celia points her fork towards her with a lazy flick of her wrist, as if to say, that’s my girl. “I know why you don’t want to be with James though. It’s because you love Sebastian now. That’s okay by the way, I know I should be sad about it but I like Seb too.” She gets it all out in one breath, obviously it’s been on her mind for a while. Now Cecelia really does choke on her cake; coughing and spluttering as she meets the younger girls look, shock etched into her own watering eyes. “Charlotte, I do not love Moran. What the hell?”

II. “You do know that if- when this all goes to plan, your boyfriend shall be going to prison as well, Cece?”

221b Baker Street was a mess of files, papers, documents, crime scene photos and half drunk cups of tea. No seat, surface or inch of wallpaper was free from some sort of proof that James Moriarty was, in fact, the world’s most evil man alive. Or at least, in the opinion of the rooms occupants. Sherlock lent against the mantelpiece, looking tired but satisfied while Mycroft and John had managed to clear enough space on the dining room chairs to sit. Celia, on the other hand, stood in the middle of the room, looking around their compiled evidence with barely hidden glee, only for her smile to fall at Sherlock’s words. “And who exactly is my boyfriend today?”

But it was John who offered up an answered, muffled slightly by the hand covering his face. “Sebastian Moran is my first guess.” He peaks through his fingers to see Celia’s look of shock mingled fury and grins at her. “Cee, we’ve been following Moriarty’s staff for weeks. You think we didn’t know you met up with him? We actually considered you might be working for Moriarty at one point. They Sherlock noticed you were twirling your hair around your finger whenever you talked to him. Classic Cecelia in love move. Mary confirmed it for us.” All three of the men seemed to get more and more satisfaction from her, as Cecelia stared about, open mouthed. She actually hadn’t known they were following Sebastian. They had considered that as risky as following Moriarty himself, but obviously they had worked around that. Without telling her! Maybe this was back when they thought she might have been a double agent. She’s actually sort of pleased with that vote of confidence from them all, but the idea that she was in love with Sebastian Moran? Fucking ridiculous. She stutters over her words. “I don’t– I’m not– for fuck sake!” They’re all grining now. “I do not love Sebastian fucking Moran!”

III. Celia has never been good with blood. The fact she only gets vaguely nauseous these days is actually a grande improvement. Having completed one year of medicine at university though seems to have given people this idea that she’s practically a doctor. What most people don’t seem to realise is she spent every second class outside the lab breathing deeply in an attempt to get the corrider to stop spinning. She’s half convinced that this ‘turning up on her doorstep bleeding to death’ thing is her friends idea of exposure therapy. She also doesn’t totally buy that she was the closest safe house to Sebastian when he got stabbed; surely Moriarty has better places for his staff, and his second in command no less, to get stitched up than her house. Still, apart from all the blood, she’s pleased to see him. It gives her a little rush to know that he would come to her when in need. She’s always liked to be needed. “I want you to know,” Cee begins, breathing through her mouth as she pokes him with her needle, wincing herself, “that I’m not doing this out of love or compassion or anything, I’m doing it so you don’t bleed all over my carpet. Medical care is free in England, ya know? I’m charging you.”

IV. What might be for the first time in her life, Celia looks awful. Her whole face is completely drained of blood and dark bags underline her eyes; a mess of lack of sleep and waterproof mascara not coming off. She can’t exactly sit up to greet him, three broken ribs will do that to you, but she does offer Moran a grin. Maybe it’s the fluorescent hospital lights, but even this small amount of effort seems to flush her cheeks and sickly green.

She knows what he did. Moriarty would have likely gone the full hog and killed her the night previous if it wasn’t for him. Cee would have liked to say she didn’t give the criminal mastermind what he wanted but her threshold for pain is very low and she’ll cry at the drop of a hat these days. She’s not sure how long Moriarty got alone with her. It felt like hours but it could have been minutes for all she knows. He had sweetly explained to her that he was going to hurt her with the intention of causing the most pain he could, without allowing her to pass out or become unconscious from lack of blood. You can imagine the mess Cecelia was in then when Mycroft finally showed up with an army of policemen and ambulance crew, no Moriarty in sight. But she knew, she knew who had talked Moriarty out of his plan, and she knew who had called her brothers. He had appeared above her last night, in a haze of tears and pain like a guardian angel, willing her to stay awake. It was so hazy now she could not have been sure it was even him, but his visit to her sick bed confirmed it for her. He can’t stay long, she knows that before her says it. The only thing worse that Mycroft finding out would be Moriarty finding out about his visit. She’s starting to understand now. “It wasn’t just because of our case against him,” she whispers, her throat dry and scratchy from all the screaming and begging the night before. “He thinks you–” tears are rolling down her cheeks already. “He thinks we love each other.” She forced a smile. “I assured him we did not.”

V. It had been months of rain. She knew that was impossible, if the rain didn’t let up for months they would probably all drown or something, but that’s what it felt like. New York City was as grey as London was when she left it. The whole world was grey without Charlie in it. Pointless people leading pointless lives, going about their business like the world didn’t end when Charlotte Holmes did. Cecelia’s world ended. She’ll carry on for the sake of carrying on but her hearts not really in it anymore. She tries to find passions in other things; persuading herself that Charlie wouldn’t have wanted her to just give up. In truth she doesn’t know what Charlotte would have wanted. It probably doesn’t even occur to a nine year old what she would want for her mother after she died. Parents shouldn’t have to bury their children; it was one of life’s sickest jokes. In a shallow attempt to remove herself from her own grief, Cecelia had uprooted her life in London and gone across the pond. New York had always held a sort of fantastic distraction for her before, but the grey cloud had followed her over to the States and hung above her head as a permanent fixture. Everyone was getting bored of her depression, she could feel them judging her silently, it’s been a couple months now, she should be over it.

She’s been so numb to everything lately she isn’t even worried her door is unlocked, even though she is sure she did leave it locked this morning. It’s not like her to be so forgetful, although she’s not been herself of late. But the light on the living room… that is wrong. The man on the chair in the corner? Definitely out of place. She didn’t leave that here this morning. “Oh my god, what do you want?” She throws her purse to the sofa, heading directly to the drinks cabinet. He’s already got there before her; doors open; glass missing. “I have nothing–” her voice breaks and presses her hand to her mouth to cover a sob. “I have nothing else to give you Sebastian!”

It’s sick how much she’s missed him. She’s wanted to hate him, tried to with all her heart. But, as hard as she tries, she can’t. She can’t even blame him. He didn’t want her dead, she’s vaguely aware he’s as cut up about it as anyone. Maybe not her, but surely she gets some sort of mothers-privilege. She gets to be the most sad.

“What happened? Did she go with you with willingly? That’s how much that little girl trusted you. She left her own home with you because– because I said she would always be safe with you. I did. I promised her.” This has been bubbling for weeks. The grief has given way to anger, finally. It makes her even more mad that he’s going to just sit there and take it like a wounded puppy. That’s all he is, he’s a dog on a leash, Moriarty giving commands. Sit boy, come, fetch Charlotte Holmes and lead her to her death! It makes her sick.

“I trusted you.” Her voice is thick with tears. “I did more than that, I loved you. I loved you so much.”

#me? crying? probably #blood --#torture --#child death --#asteriananthologies #( ᴏᴏᴄ ┊ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴀɪʟ! ) ⤿ message #( ᴏᴛᴘ ┊ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ) ⤿ cee & sebastian

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baker-street-tenants · 6 years ago

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The Baker Street Tenants: Granada!Holmes/Doctor Who Crossover Fanfiction

The time has come. We thought we would post chapter 1 in lieu of Jeremy’s birthday. If anyone prefers to read on fanfiction.net, I’ll provide the link here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13111874/1/The-Baker-Street-Tenants

This is a Sherlock Holmes/Doctor Who crossover. It is more Holmes than Who, and you don’t really need any previous knowledge to get what’s happening. It is a slow burn romance featuring an OC. Updates may be sporadic depending on our schedules, but we wanted to get Chapter 1 out there to see how everyone feels. We hope you enjoy!

Rated M for Mature.

Chapter 1

St. John Weaver, tattered hat in hand, strode merrily down the quiet street. One says merrily, as he was quite cheerful after a successful night at the pub, yet his gait was sloppy as he stumbled, nearly avoiding falling off the curb. As his name confirmed, St. John came from a good Christian family. One o’ the finest in Eng-a-land, he’d say. His father was a porter who had worked hard for his family, especially after the premature passing of Mrs. Weaver. St. John was quite proud, but even on a bad day he would not admit that the bottle found greater significance in his life than the appreciation for hard work his poor father tried to instill in him. Nevertheless, St. John believed he faired quite well with a warm belly and a woman to bed. Frequent unemployment be damned! Which was never his fault, of course.

Chortling, St. John leaned against a building, squinting up at the glow of a nearby street lamp. He watched the flame dance for a moment, grinning lazily. He wasn’t quite sure where he was, which was fine, everything was fine after several drinks. The night was quiet. Even the smallest creature had scuttled off to bed, which was sounding quite nice to St. John at that moment.

He sat down heavily on the sidewalk, squinting into the gas lit street. He briefly registered St. Mary’s looming above him, and idly realized that he was quite out of his way. Twin leaves blew into his vision, and he watched as they swam through the murky air. St. John looked up at the sky and lifted a hand. It was not windy. Several more leaves and an old newspaper followed its friends. St. John slapped his hat on his head and shakily stood up, using the wall as support.

“’Ow queer,” he said.

A huge gust of wind knocked him off his feet. He cried out in shock, arms high in the air as if to fight off an unknown assailant. His hat flew from his head, sliding across the concrete to whack against the base of the street lamp before disappearing into the darkness.

Emma Grey stared down at what could only be described as horse dung. She had just avoided stepping in it, and sighed in disgust as she backed away, noting the dampness of the cobbles. It must have rained recently. She glanced up at the night sky and the peak of a church, trying to rack her brain for its name. As if there weren’t a hundred churches in London. And of course, it was London, it was always London.

The last few moments were a blur. Emma felt like a toddler trying to put a square block in a spherical opening, becoming frustrated when their small world didn’t turn out like expected. But Emma’s world was actually very big. And her frustration was quickly turning into fear. She remembered saying something funny to – The Doctor! Where was the Doctor?

Emma stared down the long empty street, distantly registering that it was called York. Yes, she recalled clearly now the mournful clanging of the Cloister Bell and the awful expression on the Doctor’s face. Something bad had happened, but she hadn’t stuck around long enough to gain an explanation. Emma had felt terribly dizzy, and feeling the TARDIS had landed, took a step outside to clear her head, and nearly stepped in horse dung. Now here she was. The only question remained was when?

A frantic scraping sounded behind her, and Emma turned, surprised to see a short, balding man running wildly around the corner of the church. A tattered hat blew gently into the side of her shoe.

“Damn,” she muttered. “One appears out of thin air, and suddenly it’s an issue.”

The one thing Emma couldn’t understand is how the blue box wasn’t parked directly beside her. She had only stepped out for a moment and would have clearly heard the groaning of the brakes as the TARDIS dematerialized. It was like it had never been there at all. Joking aside, it was if she had actuallyappeared out of thin air.

Realistically, strange things of this nature happened all the time. It was certainly never a dull moment traveling with the Doctor. Emma fully expected to be returned by his side soon enough and was determined to make the most out of her own little adventure. It was possibly close to morning, a dense fog beginning to roll into the streets. Everything around her seemed so familiar, yet so foreign, as it was most of the time she time travelled. The gas lamps were a tell-tale sign she was far from her own time, and Emma was suspicious she was perhaps sometime in the nineteenth century. Or possibly the early twentieth? Nothing was ever half as simple as it was in movies. One could replicate the aesthetic, but the nature of a people and culture long past isn’t laid bare until one is standing in the middle of it. Emma moved from the street to the sidewalk, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her. There was a chill in the air. She passed beneath a candlelit window. Yes, those from her time will never truly grasp what happened behind that flame.

The fog was tightening around her. Emma felt like she was swimming through pea-soup, but a dark shape materialized in front of her. It was a waste bin. Peering inside, she saw several copies of the evening post. How wasteful, but to her delight, the date stared back at her. It was September of 1894. She was in the latter end of the Victorian period, and to her luck, Emma had some friends here. Namely a lizard woman from the dawn of time, her wife, and a potato.

“If I’m on York, then Paternoster Row,” Emma paused and scrunched her nose as she tried to picture a map of London in her head. As much as she’s run all over the bloody place, it shouldn’t be this difficult. “That’s 3 miles away!”

She groaned and leaned against the brick of a home. She could just see a small window leading into the lower area of the house. Bending down slightly, she watched as two maids puttered around a kitchen. It was close to morning, as she had thought. The maids giggled over something, and Emma imagined a scandalous affair, something dramatic like in Downton Abbey. I should take my own advice, she thought with a laugh of her own. If it is rarely like the movies, then it is surely not a television show.

Screaming. The sound started low at first, increasing in pitch. There was not simply fear in that scream, but pain. Although her heart seized in her chest at the noise, Emma forced her legs to move, running toward the sound. She didn’t know if she could help. Didn’t know if she would even survive whatever terrible ordeal was occurring, but this is what she did with the Doctor. What he taught her. She saved people. It was ingrained in her – perhaps a desperate attempt to save herself even.

Emma rounded the corner into any alley between the rows of houses. It was nearly pitch black, difficult to make out the undulating presence toward the end of the alley. When faced with unimaginable horror, it is very difficult to remember precise details later. This is why in criminal cases and traumatic events; the victim often cannot recall in detail the wrongdoing. They can only too clearly remember the feeling. Emma felt like her deepest nightmares had come to life. A floating mass of black, seemingly without form, surrounded what looked to be a young woman. The woman’s skin, eyes, very being was sucked inward, stretched thinly across her bones. Her mouth was comically open in a perfect “O”, her scream long cut off. Emma watched as the woman seemed to shrink further, and Emma realized that the black mass was consuming her.

Emma had seen terrible things. She’s run from monsters, watched as friends died for their bravery. The image before her, although terrifying, was not so startling than the plague that seemed to infest the alley. It was a vile combination of despair, fear, pain, and something deeply unspoken. Something so ancient. Emma’s voice cried out in the darkness, for what else could she do? Even in her darkest moments, she had never felt so incredibly without hope. There was no Doctor to save her.

The creature had completed its feast. Slowly, a form began to take shape. She watched as the mass settled toward the ground, human characteristics overtaking the swirling blackness. Emma could suddenly breathe a little better, although the terrible feeling hadn’t left her. She tested out her legs, taking a step forward.

“What are you?” She whispered.

Eyes opened in the creature’s black face. Emma had imagined the eyes of a demon, but they were a serene blue. She stared in confusion, until the situation became clear. The more the beast took shape, the more Emma realized that the shape was beginning to resemble the woman it had just killed.

The creature suddenly lashed out, and Emma tried one last attempt, a push in her mind for help, imagining someone cleverer, faster, stronger than her swooping in to save the day. But there was no one.

[CHAPTERS: 1]

#Sherlock Holmes #Granada Holmes #Doctor Who #fanfiction #crossover fan fiction #wholock #Emma Grey #Sherlock Holmes fanfiction #Jeremy Brett #Edward Hardwicke

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