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burnedbyshoto · 4 years ago

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good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose.

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas.

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones.

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him.

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too.

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him.

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders.

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation.

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement.

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped.

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be.

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits.

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!”

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined.

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you.

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet.

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees.

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see.

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you.

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room.

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars.

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal.

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas.

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more.

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you.

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips.

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you.

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

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lovefivehargreeves · 3 years ago

Text

Ex- Five Hargreeves x Female Reader

Description: Six months after Five breaks up with Y/N, he finally finds her. (Also Y/N is Number Eight. She has body manipulation powers)

A/N: I wrote this for Wattpad, but I really want to post it right now! But I might start and imagine book on Wattpad soon. I just have to finish a few more stories. I love this so much and I hope you do too!!!♥️♥️♥️

Warnings: swearing (I think that’s it)

Today felt like every other day. I woke up, I got ready for the day, and I'm on my way to go get coffee.

I just got my coffee and sat down when the bell on the door dinged, indicating that someone was here. Normally, I don't pay attention to it, but for some reason, I looked up. And I regretted it immediately.

Five Hargreeves.

My ex.

The love of my life who shattered my heart.

He seemed to notice me staring and looked over. As soon as his eyes met mine, he smirked.

I quickly looked at the coffee sitting in front of me.

Why is he here?

"Hello, Y/N."

That voice.

I lo-hate that voice.

I looked up to see him sitting on the other side of the booth with his cup of black coffee.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Having coffee with an old friend," he said.

"We're not friends," I said, "you made that very clear six months ago."

The smirk never left his beau- face.

I picked up my to-go cup and got up from the booth.

"Where are you going? I just got here."

"Getting away from you," I said. And with that, I walked outside.

I need to get home. I'm not going to let him ruin my day.

I walked up the stairs to my apartment. I unlocked the door and walked in.

"Bout time you showed up."

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Five, what the hell!?" I yelled.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," I said setting my keys on the table, "so please leave."

"Not until you let me talk to you," he said.

"I thought you said everything you had to say when you broke up with me."

He sighed and stood up, "You know as well as I do that we needed to break up. We fought all the time and neither of us was happy."

No, he wasn't happy. He caused all the fights.

‘We have to stop the apocalypse.'

'The apocalypse is more important.'

'I would, but I really need to focus on the apocalypse.'

Flashback

"Five, please just relax for a few minutes," I said as I laid on his bed and watched him write equations all around his room.

"I'll relax when I have this figured out, all right?"

I sighed and walked out of the room. I get it. We have to save the world. Make sure that billions of people don't die, but he seriously can't pay attention to me for just a few minutes!?

He acts like if he stops for even a second the world is going to end right then and there.

I haven't cuddled, hugged, or kissed him at all these last few days. I'm getting desperate. All I want is a minute of his time. I don’t think that it's too much to ask.

***

A few months go by and we successfully stopped the apocalypse. I used my body manipulation powers to calm Vanya down, so she didn't end the world.

She's fine now and she's learned to control her powers. She felt really bad about everything.

We rebuilt the academy and decorated it the way we all wanted. While we're figuring out how to put Grace back together, I volunteered to cook for everyone.

And that's what I'm doing now, cooking dinner for everyone.

"Smells good, love," Five said wrapping his arms around my waist.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. Between stopping the apocalypse and rebuilding the academy, we still haven't really hugged, kissed, cuddled, or even really talked to each other.

Now that it's all done, he's acting like he didn't ignore me for three months.

"What's the matter?" He asked taking his arms away from my waist.

I put the burner on low and turned to face him, "what's the matter is that you basically ignore me for months and then act like we're okay!"

"We're not okay?" He asked.

I groaned, "No, Five. We're not okay!"

"Then talk to me!" He yelled.

"I tried like a billion times! And it was always the apocalypse, you working on the new academy, or you being too tired from working on the new academy."

"Those are pretty good excuses, Y/N!"

"I'm not saying they aren't!" I yelled, "I'm saying that you could've taken a break to hang out with me. Do you even know the last time we actually spent time together or had a loving moment together?"

"Last night," he said blandly.

"Last night? Oh, you mean when you got back late and climbed into bed when I was half asleep and gave me a kiss on the cheek?"

"Yeah."

"No, Five! That was a very nice gesture, but not at all what I'm talking about!"

"What are you talking about then?" He asked

Oh my God. Is he for real?

I groaned, "do you even love me anymore?"

"Of course, I love you! I just don't understand why you're so upset with me!"

"Are you fucking kidding me!?" I yelled.

"No, I'm not. What's your problem?"

"My problem is that my boyfriend can't seem to find a balance for me and for work. Work is always more important than me!"

"That's so not true!" He yelled.

"Oh really? Remember when I asked if you take a break from the equations for just a few minutes to hang out with me?"

"We're talking about the end of the world Y/N!"

"But you totally could've spared a minute for me! And a month ago when I wanted to spend time with you, but you had to help Luther and Diego get supplies for the academy."

"God, you're so needy!" He yelled.

"I'm sorry that I just wanted some attention from my boyfriend!" At this point, I'm in tears.

"Well, I'm trying to give it to you now and you keep pushing me away!"

"You pushed me away first!"

"I didn't push you away. You did that yourself!"

I scoffed, "FUCK YOU, FIVE!"

I stormed out of the kitchen and past our family (who was eavesdropping) and went upstairs to my room.

Is he seriously that ignorant?

I slammed the door and fell onto my bed crying.

***

Five and I haven't been the same since that day. We can't be in the same room as each other or else we argue.

Our relationship is falling apart. If he would've realized that he's the reason we're in this mess, we wouldn't be here.

"Y/N?" I looked up from my book to see Five.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of fighting," he said.

"Me too," I said.

Is he finally going to apologize? Take the blame? Or at least some of it?

"I'm done," he said, "we're done."

What?

H-he's breaking up with me?

"What?"

"I'm. Breaking. Up. With. You." He said slowly.

He spatial jumped out of my room.

I sat there in shock. I never expected that we would break up.

I stood up and started packing my things. I don't know where I'm going, but I can't stay in the same house as him.

End of flashback

I moved into my apartment the next day. I hoped that me being out of the academy would make him see that he needed me. But he never looked for me. So, I gave up.

"Five, seriously. Leave," I said.

"No," he walked over to me.

"I don't want anything to do with you," I said.

He raised his eyebrow and walked towards me. I backed up until I hit the wall.

He smirked.

"Five-"

He cut me off by kissing me. He placed his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him.

I admit it, I missed him. A lot. But he can't just show up and hope things can go back to the way they were before.

I carefully pushed him away from me, "you can't just show up here months after breaking up with me and kiss me."

"I miss you. A lot!"

"I miss you too, but you can't expect me to take you back that easy."

He sighed, "you're right and you don't have to take me back. Just please hear me out and then I'll leave."

"Fine," I caved.

"Everything was my fault. I put work before you and I pushed you away. I was stupid and I should've spent more time with you. And worst of all, I hurt the love of my life. I broke your heart and I'm so so sorry," he said, "I'll leave you be now. Just know, I love you more than anything and I really am sorry."

He kissed my head and spatial jumped out of the apartment.

I walked over to the couch and sat down.

Should I give him another chance?

I want to.

I love him and he was really sorry.

Screw it.

I grabbed my keys and walked out. I locked the door and ran down the stairs.

I knocked on the academy door and Klaus answered it.

"Oh. My. God. Y/N! You're back! Come here!" He pulled me into a hug.

"Hi, Klaus. As much as I would love to catch up with you, I need to talk to Five," I said.

"He's in his room. He's been so lost without you. He actually just got home not that long ago. He seemed upset."

I sighed, "we'll catch up later."

"I'll hold you to that," he said.

"Later Klaus," I said walking past him and running up the stairs.

I knocked on Five's door.

"Klaus, go away. I told you that I don't want to talk!"

"It's not Klaus," I said.

The door flew opened revealing Five. His eyes were red and bloodshot.

Awe.

"You left before I could say anything," I said.

He stepped aside to let me in. I walked inside and he shut the door.

I turned to him.

"What do you want to say?" He asked.

I walked over to him and took his hands in mine, "you're not the only one at fault for our break up. I should've been more understanding. You wanted to save the world and help rebuild the academy. While I just wanted you to pay attention to me. So, I'm sorry too."

He smiled, "So, will you take me back?"

I leaned in and kissed him.

"I take it that it's a yes."

I nodded and he leaned down to kiss me again. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he placed his hands on my waist.

He pulled away and rested his head on mine, "I love you."

"I love you too," I said.

"Does this mean you're moving back in!?" Klaus called from the hall.

Five opened the door to reveal all our siblings.

"Yeah, I'm moving back in," I said.

They all practically tackled me in a hug.

"Don't break her. I just got her back!" Five yelled.

#the umbrella academy #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #tua #tua five #five hargreeves #aidan gallagher #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves x you #Y/N Hargreeves #hargreeves siblings #Hargreeves #sloane hargreeves

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wheezyandchesterwrite · 4 years ago

Text

"Please don't leave me" ~ Peter Parker

Summary: When you are injured in battle Peter begs you to stay

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Speedster!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of violence, death, injuries, and blood. Just overall sad. (If we missed something that you feel should be tagged and/or mentioned let us now and we'll include it)

A/N: Hey, so as you can see we are not dead! :) (I don't know why I did that it hurt me too ok?) Since there was no post in March we are going to try our best to post two other one shots this month, but we'll see how that goes. Hope you all enjoy this and have a great morning/afternoon/night! -W&C :)

Also major thanks to @apotatoinabigfield and @too-attached-to-fiction for proofreading and beta-reading this!

*GIF IS NOT OURS* (We got it off of Google, but if anyone knows who the credits for it belong to let us know so we can rightfully tag them)

5 years ago:

“Something’s happening,” said the girl with the antennae, Mantis. At least, that’s what she had said her name was. Suddenly after, she turned to dust. She just disappeared. In shock, you got closer to Peter, looking for some kind of safety or comfort. Everyone was shocked; no one could understand what had just occurred before your very eyes. Before anyone could say something or even gather their thoughts, it happened again.

“Quill?” was the last thing Drax said before suffering the same fate as Mantis. We lost. That was the only explanation you could fathom. The Avengers had lost and Thanos won. You tightened your grip around Peter, fully embracing him now. You were all desperately trying to decipher who would be next, fearing it being yourselves or your loved ones, but it was pointless. Whatever was causing this came and left without a warning.

“Steady, Quill,” said Tony, but it was to no avail.

“Oh, man,” sighed the man who had introduced himself as Starlord, dusting away defeatedly. You looked up at Peter, who had wrapped his arms around you in a protective manner. He was scared, that much you could tell, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes, determined to conceal the unsettling fear of not being able to hold you for much longer. You tried to convince yourself it was done—that no one else would be taken—but it was pointless. Deep down, you knew this was far from over.

“Tony,” the man turned to look at Strange, “there was no other way.” Stephen Strange took a couple more breaths before dusting away like the others had. Although Strange had said he saw over sixty-three billion outcomes, you couldn’t see how this could be the one you won in. It definitely didn’t feel like it.

Suddenly, breathing became hard. You saw dust particles floating from your hand and the reality of what was going to happen hit you. “No,” you whispered anguishly.

“(Y/N)?” Peter brought your attention to him instead of the particles which declared your fate.

“Pete, I—” you started as you reached up to stroke his cheek, but before you could come in contact with his skin or finish your declaration, you faded away in his arms.

“I know,” the boy said softly as he watched the wind carry what was once his lover.

Tony was at loss for words. He felt like the universe was playing a sick, twisted prank on him. As Tony sulked, Peter felt it. He felt his spidey sense warn him that something was going to happen. He could feel his body struggle to keep him in one piece, to keep him together, to keep him alive. No matter how quickly his body fought, it was destined to lose. “Mr. Stark,” the boy called out to the man who was more than his mentor, the man who had become like a father to him.. “I don’t feel so good,” he painfully admitted. Peter started stumbling around, his legs struggling to keep him up.

“You’re alright,” defied Stark. More than an attempt to console the boy, Tony Stark was trying to reassure himself that the universe, as cruel as it had always been to him, wouldn't do this—that it would not take his boy away. But alas, the genius man was to be proven wrong.

“I— I don’t know what’s happening. I— I don’t understand,” countered the Spiderboy hurriedly. His feet gave out, and he would’ve fallen forward if it hadn’t been for Tony catching him and holding him up. More and more particles could be seen emerging from the boy, and in that moment, the only thing Tony could do was hold on to Peter for as long as he had left.

“I don’t wanna go,” Peter pleaded. “I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please.” His voice was cracking and his legs couldn’t support him any longer as more particles escaped him. Peter’s pleas wouldn’t cease much like the cracks in his voice every time he spoke. Tony lowered him to the ground not daring to say a word. Peter, with teary, bloodshot eyes, looked at the man and whispered an apology before finally letting his body dissipate.

Tony couldn’t speak; he couldn’t even think. “He did it,” said Nebula. Yet the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist didn’t respond. He just looked at his hand, which was covered in dirt—dirt that had once been Peter Parker. Tony let himself cry, allowing grief and shock to take over him. After all there was nothing else he could do.

***

Present day:

“Love you—wait, what happened?” You find yourself reaching up, but the person you had been trying to touch no longer stood in front of you. Your body was slowly regaining feeling, but your mind felt as numb as ever. You had so many thoughts running through your brain at such a speed that you couldn’t focus on any of them.

“I love you too, Speedy.” You heard a voice answer from behind you. You felt some of the anxiety subside once you put a name to the voice, which was easy since only one person in the entire world called you Speedy.

“Peter,” you exhaled in relief. Turning around in an instant, you ran into the arms you had chosen to call home. Peter embraced you tightly, not wanting to release the other in fear of permanently losing one another this time. You didn’t know how much time had passed from when you lost your consciousness, but that didn’t matter for Peter. Seeing the person he had deemed to be his soulmate dissipate in front him had been more than enough for him to feel like the amount of time that had passed between then and now had been an eternity. Suddenly, Strange spoke up, answering the question plaguing everyone’s minds.

“It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.” He stated commandingly. You all shared looks of dumbfoundment and bewilderment. Five years? How could that have been possible? The only one on the planet you stood on who looked at ease was Stephen, his calm demeanor never faltering. You looked up at Peter confused, but he simply shrugged, not wanting to believe such time had passed yet knowing better than to contradict Dr. Strange.

“Okay, everyone, this is it. Activate your badass stances!” exclaimed Quill.

“What did you say about my ass, Quill?” Drax started charging towards him, visibly offended. You raced to wedge yourself between the two men, struggling to keep them apart.

“Hey, no time for that. Look!” You called over their attention to the portal Strange was opening in front of you. Peter swung his way to the front, landing elegantly. After making sure Quill and Drax would not try to go at each other's throats, you swiftly made your way to the front and stood beside Peter.

Glancing around what was going to serve as your battlefield for today, you grimly recognized the location. What was once known as the Avenger’s Headquarters was now no more than a field of scattered debris. Clouds of dust littered the air, the remains of mass destruction visible wherever you looked. You gave yourself a chase to take in the sight of Thanos’ army, and as you did so, fear and worry tried to etch their way into your brain as you realized what you were facing. This was an enemy that had already defeated you once, and when you had fought him, he hadn't even had an army backing him up. Your determination and will to fight and live to tell the tale overpowered those negative feelings. The sight of the spaceship filled you with spitefulness instead of dread, and you knew in that moment that you would do whatever it took to win. The Avengers would not lose again; you were going to make sure of that, even if you had to lay down your life for it to become a reality.

“Is that everyone?” Strange asked Wong.

“What, you wanted more?” Wong yelled back in disbelief, and Strange shrugged nonchalantly in response.

As everyone settled into position, Cap’s voice was loudly heard, like thunder rumbling through the field, “AVENGERS.” This was the moment of truth—your last chance to save humanity. You could feel the seconds pass before Steve gave the signal, “Assemble.” And with that, everyone was off.

A beautiful and empowering mess of battle cries could be heard around you. You, on the other hand, were silent as you ran, calculating your every move. Using all the knowledge you’d gained over the years about hand-in-hand combat, you started to hastily assassinate those monsters. You would jump at one, taking them down, and godspeed to your next target, sending each one you came in contact with on a one way trip to meet their maker. Near you, Peter was also taking out some of the Chitauri, at times propelling you onto your next target or eliminating some of them when you got surrounded. After clearing out most of the aliens near you, Peter tapped you on the shoulder and pointed to Tony. Understanding his intentions, you nodded and made your way towards the infamous Iron Man.

As you slid into the crater where Tony lay, Peter landed from his swinging. Tony stared at the two of you in disbelief, doubting whether or not to believe you were actually there. When his expression softened, and tender affection spread across his factions, Peter began rambling, and you shook off some of the concrete dust from your suit. “Hey, holy cow! You will not believe what’s going on,” Peter exclaimed as he helped Tony stand up.

“No?” Tony asked sarcastically, but it only encouraged you.

“Do you remember when we were in space? And we got all dusty? I guess we must’ve passed out because when we woke up, you were gone.” You now stood beside Peter as you spoke, your hands increasing their pace as you rambled on, making them impossible to follow with the human eye.

“But Doctor Strange was there right? He was like ‘It’s been five years. Come on they need us,’” Peter said as he tried to make an impression of Strange, mimicking the way the man had moved his hands when opening the portals.

“Yeah, and then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing he does all the time.” You took over from Pete when he gave you the chance.

“He did? Oh, God!” Tony exclaimed with feigned incredulity. He started walking toward you and grabbed you both by the shoulder, pushing you into him.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked, bewildered.

“Huh, what’s this?” You questioned, confused as Tony engulfed you both simultaneously. He held you tightly, and when the shock passed, you and Peter hugged the man back even tighter.

“Oh, this is nice.” Peter sighed, earning a light chuckle from Stark.

“Listen, kids, we don’t have a lot of time right now, but I’ll catch you up on the latest trends once we take this bitch down. Okay?” Tony assured as he released you, holding on to your forearm to look the both of you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Yes, sir.” Peter saluted.

“See you on the other side of the war.” You smirked, knowing Tony and Peter must have caught that reference. Tony shook his head as he took off, the ghost of a grin barely noticeable on his lips.

Peter nudged you. “Be careful, okay?” His eyes showed genuine concern.

“Alright, I solemnly swear—” Peter gave you a warning look. “Okay, fine. I’ll try my best to be as careful as possible in the middle of a battle.” You finished, your tone a weird mixture between sarcasm and affection.

“Good.” He pressed a quick kiss to your temple before taking off.

“Alright, Chitauri, give me your best shot.” You smirked at the unsuspecting figure that was currently fighting off T’challa. Having speed and regeneration to your advantage, you zig-zagged around Thanos’ army, ducking and killing as you went. You moved with precision, only stopping when you were sure to have a clear shot at the enemy you were targeting.

You went on that way until you weren’t able to dodge a body that dropped in front of you, making you trip over it. The collision made you roll down a mountain of debris, hitting your head dangerously hard several times, as well as getting a couple of cuts along the way from the exposed, sharp metal.

“That’s sure to give me a concussion,” you grunted to yourself. The throbbing of your head distracted you from the burn of the cuts that now littered your abdomen, some deeper than others. It wasn’t until you brought a hand to your head, that you noticed the crimson liquid that coated it. “Oh, shit,” you exhaled. The pain was starting to catch up to you as the adrenaline subsided. You tried to use your powers to find yourself a safe spot until you recovered, but your attempts were futile seeing as the pain coursing through your body rendered you immobile.

“Is that Peter falling?” The figure you saw was indeed Peter and the sharp spiderlegs of his suits were still out for blood. You managed to move just enough that you were barely graced, another gash prompting blood out of your system. Peter tumbled in the opposite direction, clutching what you assumed to be the gauntlet you were supposed to keep out of Thanos’ hands. The sudden movements to dodge Peter hadn’t come without consequences. You felt like your surroundings were spiralling around you, dizziness overtaking you as you started to cough up blood. You managed to stubbornly sit up and when you looked to your side, you saw Peter giving the gauntlet to a glowing woman.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that,” you heard him admit to her out of breath.

“Don’t worry,” Wanda stepped in.

“She’s got help,” Okoye finished, her hands wrapped tightly around her spear. Soon the rest of the women joined and took off together. It was a powerful moment to witness and one you would’ve loved to be a part of, if it weren’t for your current situation. You closed your eyes in a somewhat successful effort to ease off the pain pulsating in your head.

“Man, those are some badass women,” Peter muttered as he sat down. “Wait—” He quickly looked around, but missed you completely. “Where’s my badass woman?” Peter frantically shuffled to his feet, hoping to see a flash of yellow zoom by, but no such luck. You tried to call out to him, wanting to let him know you were there, but your voice got caught in your throat, replaced by a cough that was followed by blood. The sound caught Peter’s attention, his gaze trying to find where it came from. His heart constricted in his chest when he finally caught sight of you and the state you were in.

In a flash, he was hovering over you, putting your own abilities to shame given the speed at which he got to you. Your eyes were still closed, as you relished the relief it gave you, but you were drifting off at this point and didn’t have the energy nor strength to open them again. That was until Peter started shaking you awake. “(Y/N)? Oh God, come on, please be okay.” You could hear the panic and desperation in his voice. Your eyes felt so heavy, it was almost impossible to open them, but you managed to do so, just enough to see Peter exhale in relief after seeing you respond.

Tucked away behind blood and dryness, you managed to find your voice and you raspily told him, “I’m okay, Peter. It’ll heal. Go help the others.” You took ragged breaths between each sentence, your lungs struggling to keep up. Peter could very much tell you weren’t okay and knew that with the amount of injuries you had suffered it was almost impossible for your regenerative abilities to save you.

“(Y/N), we both know that’s not happening; it’s too much. I mean, it might heal, but there are too many things to heal for you to survive waiting and—” He abruptly stopped his own rambling after he noticed you had closed your eyes again. “(Y/N)? (Y/N), please, stay with me.”

His voice was breaking and his eyes were starting to swell up with tears. It broke your heart to hear him like this. You fought to stay conscious, for his sake, but the blood loss and pain was becoming too great to bear and you felt yourself falling into a deep slumber once more.

Peter was getting desperate, tears freely flowing down his cheeks now. “Please, (Y/N/N), please don’t leave me.” He held your body close to his, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Sobs rocked his body as he kept begging for you to stay. His voice and your tear stained neck was the last thing you registered before you let go and fell into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

***

“Everybody wants a happy ending, right? But it doesn’t always roll that way. Maybe this time, I’m hoping if you play this back, it’s in celebration. I hope families are reunited, I hope we get it back, and something like a normal version of the planet has been restored. If there was ever such a thing. God, what a world! Universe, now. If you told me ten years ago that we weren’t alone, let alone, you know, to this extent, I mean I wouldn’t have been surprised. But come on, you know? The epic forces of darkness and light that have come into play. And for better or for worse, that’s the reality Morgan’s gonna have to find a way to grow up in. So, I thought I’d probably better record a little greeting... In case of an untimely death on my part. I mean, not that death at any time isn’t untimely. This time travel thing that we’re gonna try and pull off tomorrow, it’s—it's got me scratching my head about the survivability of it all—that’s the thing. Then again, that’s the hero gig. Part of the journey is the end. What am I even trippin’ for? Everything’s gonna work out exactly the way it’s supposed to. I love you 3,000.”

Pepper walked out of the cabin she and Tony had called home, holding a wreath that in its middle held Tony’s first arc reactor. Everyone stood out in front of the lake, waiting as she gently placed it on the water. She took her place beside Peter, who was silently crying as he held your emotionally devastated self in his arms. Having passed out when you did had ultimately saved your life, your body using its remaining energy in healing you rather than keeping you awake, but that meant you missed the events that led up to your victory and were therefore unable to say a proper farewell to the man who served as your mentor for years.

Waking up to the news that the man who had taken better care of you and had looked out for you more than your own parents was dead didn’t settle in easily. It took a while before you were able to accept he was gone.

Peter had been there for you every step of the way, holding you during all the sleepless nights you had spent crying and shaking you awake when your dreams became plagued with nightmares from the battle. Guilt had made a home in your heart, the feeling never leaving as you thought of ways you could have avoided getting injured, ways you could have fought better, ways that could have resulted in being able to say goodbye to Tony Stark, the man who sacrificed himself for the universe.

Everyone stood silently as you all watched the wreath float out of sight, before turning to share your condolences with each other. You held on to Peter tightly, as if he too were to slip from your fingers at any moment. You stood there mindlessly listening in on the nostalgic conversations between the people who cared for Tony. Looking around at everyone gathered, it became clear that the arc reactor which was now floating off in the lake was not the only proof that Tony Stark had a heart. All his friends, colleagues, family and adopted students were walking proof that not only did Tony Stark have a heart, but that he had the biggest heart a human could possibly have.

Taglist: @steveisherdaddy @apotatoinabigfield @xlostinobsessionsx @izjustafaze @yourlocalwhitemanwhore

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poptod · 3 years ago

Text

The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them. also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

#jack kline x reader #supernatural #spn #jack kline

43 notes · View notes

ladyeliot · 4 years ago

Photo

I’ll fix it

Pairing: Tony Stark x Avenger Female Reader.

Summary: Everything changed the day Tony Stark felt your body fall apart in his hands, from then on a struggle to try to bring you back to him began.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death. Time travel.

Word count: 6283

A/N: Avengers Endgame. Some of the dialogue is taken from the film. Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Reader’s abilities: Master Martial Artist, experienced in espionage, talented Hacker.

There was a turning point in Tony Stark’s life, that moment when everything changed, when like ashes you scattered through space, when your body disappeared leaving motes of your essence in his hands.

The battle to save humanity was lost the moment the time stone, protected by Doctor Strange, found its way into Thanos’ Gauntlet, leaving only a single chance to deal with a successful end to the final battle. All of you present had led the fight with acuity, but there was little you could do, you knew that as you fell one by one. Your bodies lay in the ruins of the once superpowered planet, waiting for someone with the will to continue fighting death, Tony was the last one standing until Thanos managed to strip him of his own Iron Man suit, stabbing him in the side with the sword Tony had created with his nanonites. Something snapped inside you, causing the relentless pain in your joints to fade and you managed to get up, before the wizard offered him the last stone and Quill unsuccessfully tried to stop him before Thanos vanished.

“Tony,” you whispered awkwardly reaching out to him, wrapping your arms around his body.

The exhaustion was such that you both let yourselves fall and ended up sitting in the ashes of that place. You brought your faces close together, facing each other, letting them rest, feeling your connection again. The bruises showed what you had suffered, open wounds that allowed blood to spread freely over every part of your face. You had just lost too much, it was a break between before and after, but the one thing you couldn’t bear to lose was him. Tony covered his cut with the last of his remaining nanonites, expressing an inward groan of relief, allowing himself to think again about what had happened.

“Why would you do that?” he muttered pleadingly, looking at Strange, who stood a few feet away from you.

“We are in the endgame now.”

That had a meaning, only Vision’s name came to mind, he was the only one who could stop that, the one who possessed the last stone, the mind stone.

Little by little, the reunion of those present was the only thing that eased the pain, you were all there, none of you had suffered worse consequences. The silence of the planet made your skin crawl, warning that this could happen to the earth if the snapping were to happen. You and Tony stumbled to your feet, watching as Peter came to you.

“Something’s happening,” your gaze connected with Mantis who had just said those words.

You had never felt so much fear inside you, until you saw how his body seemed to extrapolate and turn into ashes that disappeared moments later. The mental and bodily blockade came over everyone present, the terror professing itself through their features. Tony’s fingers clung to your right arm, barely moving from where Mantis was before he vanished.

You all looked around anxiously, hoping to find some answer to the event that had just occurred, but you only saw Drax turning to ashes, joint by joint disappearing.

“Quill?” Drax looked at him as little by little his friend’s body parts dissolved.

“Steady, Quill,” with those words Tony increased the pressure of his fingers on your arm, showing his own insecurity.

“Aw, man,” Quill whispered before melting into the wind.

It had happened, no one could have stopped him, Thanos had gotten the five infinity stones and had done the snap. No one present had any idea how it had happened, but it was clear, your worst fears had been realised.

“Tony,” Strange muttered, causing the few of you present to focus your gaze on him. “There was no other way.”

And so it was that another one turned to ashes. But it wasn’t over yet.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony and you noticed that Peter was starting to wobble, your gazes were horrified at him. “I don’t feel so good…”

“You are all right,” Tony’s words sounded confident, but hid the fear he felt inside.

“I don’t know what’s – I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t–” Peter managed to reach you, falling into Tony’s arms, who wrapped his arms around him and pinned him to the ground. “I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna go, Mr. Stark, please. Please, I don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna go…” his voice was broken with sobs. “I’m sorry.”

You walked away from the scene, holding your hands to your face as you watched your partner’s body disappear, leaving a void in its place. So, in that moment you realised that your terror was based on the loss of your loved ones, of your family that they had become, you were not afraid of disappearing, you were afraid of them disappearing. You staggered a few steps away, unable to come to terms with what you were witnessing at that very moment, although you didn’t have time either, as a faint tingling sensation appeared in your lower extremities.

“Tony…” a faint tone came from within you, but his reaction was immediate.

“No,” he said, standing up.

You’d never seen him look at you like that before, it broke you to contemplate his watery eyes and fully dilated pupils, expressing desperation, being unable to do anything about it to stop it.

“I…” your voice trailed off.

“I got you, I got you,” his voice was broken, but rigid. “I- I promise I’ll fix this, I’ll fix this.”

You could feel his arms around your body with intensity, the warmth of his body reaching yours, but it was only an instant before you stopped feeling everything and disintegrated into ashes in his hands.

The secular emptiness came a few seconds later to Tony, it was the moment when he understood what had happened and what it meant. He belonged to that 50% of the population that had a second chance, but you were that 50% that had turned to dust from one instant to the next. A feeling indescribable to his mind invaded every inch of his body, he was lost, looking around him, hoping that it was all a nightmare from which he could wake up, but it was clear that he was living in real life, because you were not the only one who disappeared. Completely shattered, he walked through the ruins looking for an answer, some sign to hold on to, to tell him what to do, but it never came.

Time became his enemy, what happened made him realise that every step without you is a moment of his life lost. First it was days, then weeks, then months, then years, he spent a long period of time working against the clock, looking for a way to solve what happened, to come back to you. Thousands of ideas were discarded without coming to a definitive conclusion that could counteract the effects of the snap. Tony knew that if he gave up it would mean losing you forever, the life you had imagined so many times, which you never got to because of the countless missions and obstacles along the way. You were almost on the verge of touching it with your fingers once, after all that happened in Sokovia and the signing of agreements you opted to embrace the simple life, but Thanos and the stones came along and shattered your lives.

Tony had converted the cabin he built for you and didn’t have time to show you, into his own lair. He spent the hours locked away, barely sleeping, at least for the first four years, then he declined, until one day, the light seemed to brighten and his old companions appeared, offering him one last chance to get what he was looking for.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott was leaning against the wooden porch.

“Tony, after everything you’ve seen, is anything really impossible?” Steve looked at him with concern, Tony’s appearance had deteriorated over the years. He looked exhausted and full of unresolved doubts.

“I must say I sometimes miss this foolish optimism,” he grimaced, a grimace resembling a smile. “Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” his tone rose. “In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” he paused. “What do you think I’ve been doing for these five years? Do you think I haven’t thought about it already?”

“I came back,” Scott interjected.

“No, you accidentally survived,” Tony cut him off. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a…. What do you call it?”

“A time heist?” said Scott smiling nonchalantly.

“Yeah, a time heist. Of course,” Tony frowned putting his index finger to his lips. “Why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipedream?”

“When did you give up?” cut Steve off with rudeness in his tone of voice. “When did you give up? When did you give her up?”

Those were the words that made Tony rise from his seat, tilt his face to one side and force his facial expression.

“You have no idea,” she approached him, pointing her index finger at him. “Where have you been for these five years? Creating an armada of joint therapy groups? Has that helped?”

“Tony…” Natasha interjected, but he barely paid attention.

“While you were out here with your army of crybabies I was out here, day after night trying to find a solution to undo this mess we’ve created,” Tony paused, clenched his jaw and sighed deeply. “So don’t come to me now and say I’ve given it all up for lost.”

It was clear that Steve knew how to set Tony’s mind in motion, he knew where it hurt and how he could reignite their old friendship, it only took him naming you for him when the group left to pick up on every loose end he had created over those last few years.

It was hours of thought processes, of proposing to himself the quantum possibilities that could work, but more importantly the consequences, what could happen and what number of percentages existed to bring you all back. It didn’t take him long to come up with a way out, completely illogical to anyone except those who were as crazy as he was. So it was that after all this time he arrived at the New Avengers facility.

“Why the long face?” the car stopped in front of Steve. “Let me guess, it turned him into a baby.”

“Among other things,” Steve shoved his hands into his trousers pockets and looked straight ahead. “What are you doing here?”

“Not giving her up,” Tony shrugged and got out of the car, introducing himself to Steve, who smiled. “Mind you, I don’t plan to participate in any of your open tears.”

That opened a process of slow reconstruction of the events of the past years. It opened wounds, showed the aftermath, but also reunited all the Avengers who had managed to survive Thanos’ snap. The important thing is that there were enough Pym particles for a round trip for everyone present. But the important thing was to find out where the stones were located depending on the time.

They were fortunate, or rather lucky, that three of the stones met at one point in their own history in New York City, precisely during the Chitauri invasion. That was bound to cause a bitter memory for Tony, but it suddenly changed when he found out what it meant, he would go back there, he would do that mission, and you would be there. You were there when in 2012 the Avengers faced the invasion in New York, it was your first mission, when you were all recruited, when you met for the first time.

“Okay, we have a plan,” Steve reported after he had organised the teams. All eyes were focused on a screen showing the stones and their location. “Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

It was clear that what they were about to face was something completely new, none of them had had time to perhaps acquire the necessary skills to tackle this new job, new mission. It was back to the past, at least they had the advantage of knowing what the future held, of knowing what would be in store for them if they failed to succeed in their tasks.

“Five years ago, we lost.” Steve began a speech to his colleagues positioned in circles on the starting platform. “All of us. We lost friends… We lost family… We lost a part of ourselves,” Steve and Tony’s eyes met. “Today, we have a chance to take it all back.” he paused slightly. “You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each. No mistakes. No do-overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know. But it doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives. And we’re gonna win,” silence filled the room.“Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

After those words, which were encouraging for all the events that were to follow, a space loop embraced each of them, transporting them through time and space, rendering their matter insignificant. Their bodies separated between space cavities transporting them to the right time.

Tony, along with Bruce, Steve and Scott, appeared in an alleyway in New York City in 2012. The smell of dust and molten iron wafted into their nasal cavities. Everything around him was in ruins, the great skyscrapers looked like they were part of a film of the earth’s extinction, it reminded him of some of his worst fears, but it didn’t distract him because he knew how it was going to end.

“We all have our tasks,” Steve informed them, looking around at an overturned car. “Two stones on the outskirts, one in the centre. Keep a low profile,” he shifted his gaze to Tony, who nodded, raising his hands. “Keep an eye on the time.”

Given the orders the group made a point of dispersing, but Steve held Tony’s arm for a second, focusing his gaze on him.

“Are you going to be all right?” His blue eyes showed concern, including his voice as well.

“Of course,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve been through this once, I can do it again.”

With that said, Tony attached the Iron Man suit to his body and disappeared from the scene. Although his statement exuded self-assurance, he seemed to crumble a little when he reached the top of the Chrysler Building, finding himself in front of Stark Tower. His android vision allowed him to take in the scene taking place on the top floor of his old Tower. There stood the group of Avengers, surrounding Loki, holding him back, he knew that moment as if he had lived it only yesterday, but what almost made his heart stop was to find your figure there. The thrusters of his suit brought him closer to the Tower, accessing the interior through one of the open windows and keeping himself hidden behind some sculptures.

The suit disappeared from his body, becoming Tony Stark again, it was almost unheard of for him, there you were, as if time had never passed. His steps were slow, but he seemed to be completely lost, watching your every move, as if he had no job to do, and his only mission was to watch you. He could not escape the hundreds of memories that came back to him, he even felt guilty about numerous things he had said, done, or not said and done.

“Alright, who gets the wand?” you said holding up Loki’s sceptre.

Your words at that moment came to 2023 Tony with a wide smile, to hear your voice so close to him again and not through any electronic device made a lump form in his throat.

“Are you all right, dude?” Scott cut the moment short.

Tony realised at that very moment that Scott had been on his right shoulder the entire time, a fact that brought all his senses back into focus on the scene he was reliving. The lift opened, ushering in the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, who were actually Hydra, but none of you knew it at the time.

“All right, you’re up, little buddy. There’s our stone,” Tony whispered to Scott.

“All right,” Scott took up position on his partner’s shoulder. “Flick me.”

There Scott’s mission began, and he made his way to the Tony of the past to join him. The scene on the top floor of Stark Tower continued as if nothing strange was going on.

“You got it?” you asked the past Tony, watching as he put the tesseract into the briefcase.

“Yep,” he replied, closing the case and looking at you with a half smile.

“By the way, how about that drink afterwards Miss Y/L/N?”

“Interesting that you can think of a drink Mr. Stark,” you said crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, when I buy someone a drink I’m not just thinking about drinking,” he winked at you to which you narrowed your eyes and headed towards the lift with the other companions. “Is that a yes?”

“Well I try,” muttered the Tony of the present to himself, who inevitably couldn’t hold back a smile as he saw with his own eyes that moment and your way of rejecting it, for it was the beginning of too many things. So, as you all disappeared down the lift he too made his way to his new assigned position.

“ Okay, Cap, I got our scepter in the elevator just passing the 80th floor,” he informed Steve over the intercom. “I’ll head down the hall.”

Steve had his mission, to get the sceptre by pretending to be a Hydra agent in front of those who really were and were now guarding the briefcase. Meanwhile, Tony took over one of the security uniforms of the Shield agents, to impersonate one of them and get the briefcase that had the tesseract inside that was now in the possession of the former Tony.

The avengers arrived at the lobby, Scott in thumb size’, that’s what Tony liked to call him, had to get inside the reactor of his victim to produce a small shock, and so everyone would focus their gaze on the old Tony, while the one from 2023 got hold of the briefcase, but things didn’t go as planned.

“I’m looking forward to going to Shawarma Palace,” Tony was standing next to you, “We could take it as our first date, what do you think?”

“Interesting,” you said, barely looking at him but with a slight smile on your face, “It’ll be great to say that genius billionaire Tony Stark asked me out for shawarma on our first date.”

“You forgot about philanthropist and Playboy,” he added, raising an eyebrow.“So that’s… Oh, Mr. Secretary!”

The conversation with Shield’s superior began, it was the ideal time where Scott had the opportunity to carry out his mission, for the tesseract was disappearing at that moment, and it would be tricky to access it again.

“All right, move it, Stuart Little. Things are getting dicey up here. Let’s go,” Tony informed Scott over the intercom.

It looked like everything was going down the drain, as Scott was in trouble for giving him a cardiac arrhythmia, however, everyone was stunned when at that moment Tony’s body stopped, and then began to convulse and fall to the ground. Your expression suddenly changed, as did the others.

“Tony?” you asked, dropping down beside Tony, worried about what was happening to him.

“Medics!” exclaimed the Tony Stark of 2023, taking in the scene. “You guys, some help!”

“Talk to me,” you said grabbing his face, which was completely flushed since he couldn’t breathe.

“Aw, she’s worried,” the present Tony muttered to himself.

“Is that the machine in your chest?” Thor, who was standing next to him, asked.

Meanwhile Scott, who had emerged from the reactor in the chest of the Tony of the past, pushed hard on the briefcase so that the Tony of the future could take it in his hands and go in search of a way out, but in that instant the Hulk suddenly appeared knocking Tony down, opening the briefcase, making the tesseract fly out and land at the feet of Loki who took it in his hands and disappeared.

“Come on Tony breathe,” you said looking at Thor hoping he would do something about it.

“I’ll try something, but I don’t know if it will work,” Thor brought his hammer to Tony’s chest, specifically the reactor and offered him a small shock, bringing the air back into his lungs. “Yes!”

“Whew, that worked a treat,” he said between gasps, looking at both of us. “Dude, that was crazy,” he thought. “The case.”

“Uhh, the case is…” Thor looked around.

“Where is the case?” you asked getting up trying to intercept him with your gaze.

“Where is Loki?” exclaimed Thor. “Loki!”

Meanwhile, ten meters away from the scene, the Tony from the future was completely knocked to the ground, after the Hulk knocked him down.

“Oh, we blew it,” Tony said without barely getting up, listening to all the conversation you had a few feet away.

The Tony of the future got up and opted to walk through the door leading to the stairs before anyone noticed him, for due to the Hulk’s untimely and shocking appearance, there were hardly any people left in the hall, apart from the Avengers and the Shield agents, of which he was undercover. However, as he was walking down a long corridor on the third floor, something stopped him.

“Excuse me agent,” your voice appeared as if it were an apparition behind him, causing him to stop his steps. “I must ask you to stay in the hall, we need to question everyone present in case we find evidence of what just happened.”

This was completely new, Tony hadn’t experienced it, he didn’t know what was going to happen or how he would best act on this occasion, but he knew that if he turned around you would most likely recognise him, as the black helmet and goggles barely covered his face, leaving the lower part of his face uncovered. At the same time, you kept a SIG Sauer P226 in your hand just at hip level, waiting at all times to watch the reactions of the man in front of you.

“Of course,” said Tony, changing his tone of voice slightly, making it deeper than usual, but still he just kept his position, his back to you.

“Could you turn around and come with me?” you asked with a frown, brushing your fingers over the gun and feeling a bad feeling inside you, for there was something that didn’t sit right with you.

Tony took a deep breath and lowered his face, there were a thousand ideas running through his mind right now, he didn’t know which one was worse than the last, so he connected several pieces and took one that would produce some personal gain, for worse than they were already, perhaps, things couldn’t get any worse.

“Are you sure?”

Slowly Tony’s body turned 180 degrees to face you. His features were obvious, his brown eyes accompanied by honey-coloured flecks, his beard so neatly trimmed, and those full lips, all 100% Tony Stark. But it was obvious to you that this was a trap, Loki had disappeared and you were aware of his every ability to deceive, after all he was the master of mischief. You didn’t stop for a moment to take the gun in your hands and point it firmly in his face, you had a clean shot.

“Loki…” you whispered frowning and squinting one eye to improve your aim.

“Not exactly,” Tony held up his hands retreating back a step, but showing no nervousness at all at the situation. “God, how I resent you mistaking me for him.”

It was at that precise moment, when he had you two metres away pointing a gun to his head, that he realised how long those five years had been, five years without being able to look at your face, without hearing your voice, without your caresses, without your kisses… for which he would die in those moments of your gunshot. He found himself with his hands raised, his body totally paralysed and his lips half-open, in love with you. You were not really the woman he had left behind, it was 2012 and many of your features were changed, but it was you.

“Where is the tesseract?” you asked, bringing him back to his senses. “What have you done with it?”

“That’s what I want to know,” he replied casually and slowly lowered his hands, knowing that bullet wasn’t going to be fired at him.

Tony’s mind worked fast, he was quick in his thoughts and in his actions, although sometimes that could get him into serious trouble because of the consequences of his actions, so he had no idea what he was doing at that moment, because his whole body was begging him to have a meeting with you and so he did. Now it was time to figure out where to go with the situation, but Tony was not a great planner, he flowed with time.

“By the way, did you get rid of that damn FBI agent yet? What was his name?” Tony knew how to test you to make you realise he wasn’t Loki. “Ah yes, Agent Chatter, god, how I hated him. I would have loved to see you spill champagne all over his scalp.”

“How do you… How do you know that?” your voice sounded gruff, but quizzical at the same time, even though you had no intention of conversing with him you were curious as to how the hell he had found out that information, as Tony was the only one who called Matthew ‘Agent Chatter’.

“You told me,” he said taking a step towards you, closing the distance, causing you to back away. “I told you, I’m not Loki.”

“I’ve never told anyone what happened with Matthew,” your breath hitched as you realised you didn’t understand what was going on.

“Well, you haven’t really told me yet,” he narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side.

You remained thoughtful for a couple of seconds. “I know exactly what you’re doing,” you tightened your grip on the gun, your hands beginning to sweat. “Your mind games aren’t going to work on me.

The moment was complex to explain, Tony had hundreds of possibilities to offer you in that moment and for you to discover that it wasn’t Loki in front of you, he knew how he could deal with the situation, but he wanted you to be the one to figure it out for yourself. He was playing with fire, he knew better than anyone how space-time worked, but he had an ace up his sleeve, an ace that Steve was carrying at that moment and he would use it later.

Tony slowly brought his hands to his face, causing you to fix your aim again with his moments, you feared what he might do next, for anything was to be expected with Loki, but Tony merely removed his helmet and goggles, dropping them to the ground exposing his full face to you.

A strange feeling came over your body, it was obviously a familiar face, you had spent numerous hours with Tony Stark in the previous weeks, but it wasn’t really your Tony standing before you. The features looked aged, more wrinkles were in the key parts of his face, grey hair was showing through his hair and also in his beard. Concentrating on analysing each of his features made you soften your grip on the gun.

"It’s me,” he murmured, making another attempt to move towards you, and succeeded, bringing the barrel of the gun down on his chest, clattering against his reactor. He gingerly reached out his arm, reaching up to your face and brushing aside a lock of your hair. “I can’t explain too much, but…”

“Tony?” a new voice joined your encounter, snapping you out of your abstraction. “What are you doing?”

Again you put distance between you and Tony, wary of what had just happened and rather guilty for letting yourself be bamboozled by Loki. You looked at the Captain who was coming from the far end of that long hallway and was just now standing metres away from you.

“It’s not Tony, Captain, it’s one of Loki’s tricks,” you explained without looking away from Tony who was looking at Steve a little guilty about the situation that had been created. “Captain, warn the others, inform them that we have Loki on the third floor of the west wing.”

“I. Am. Not. Loki,” Tony qualified each of his words somewhat irritated that you still believed it was Loki. “Can you tell her Cap?”

“Tony, what the hell are you doing?” Steve used a gruff tone, now the one who sounded irritated was him, as he was unaware of where Tony’s plans were headed.

“Shit,” Tony whispered turning his gaze towards him.“When they put that serum in your veins they offered you the gift of inopportunity, didn’t they?”

For you everything was much more confusing, your quick analysis of the situation and the two figures that stood before you had many gaps of information. You knew those guys, you had spent more hours of your life with them than with your family, you had studied them, you had analysed them and really that Steve and Tony that were before you were not the same guys, and there was only one Loki, both could not be Loki, at least within your logic, although with Loki anything goes. But what you realised was that the captain was holding the sceptre, why was the captain holding the sceptre right now?

“I’m sorry Tony, but we have to go,” he repeated firmly, which brought you back to reality.

“I don’t think either of you are going anywhere,” you quickly pulled a new pistol from the back of your suit, two guns for two people standing in front of you.

That elicited a sigh of disgust from Steve, who raised his hands, raising the sceptre in one hand and the shield in the other, halting his stride in his tracks.

“What was your bright idea Tony?” he asked seriously.

“I don’t know Cap, you know I like to improvise,” he shrugged his shoulders without taking his eyes off you, raising his hands and giving you a wide and warm smile, which didn’t affect you at all.

“Great, so improvise if you don’t want me to,” Steve sentenced him without moving from his position.

“She’s mine,” Tony slowly brought his hand to his chest, where he offered himself a couple of taps and the armour ran over every millimetre of him, covering his limbs.

Was Loki really capable of that? Confusion engulfed you, it had all your senses alert, your mind asking a hundred questions you couldn’t answer. But if it’s not any of them Loki who are they?

Tony looked at Steve’s sceptre, that was the only key way out he could think of, but since he had laid all his cards on the table, he wasn’t going to leave without doing one thing first, so he started to close the gap with you.

“If you take one more step…” you began to say, backing down the long corridor of Stark Tower.

“Honey, surely my 2012 self would punch me if he knew his 2023 self was going to do what I’m about to do,” he started to approach you which made you stand on guard, “since I’d take all the credit away from him, because he won’t do it for another two years or so, but…” between the words and his approach you blocked and pulled the trigger of the gun pointed at him, causing the bullet to hit and fall to the ground. “Hey! That hurt, well, not physically, but you just hurt my feelings.”

“Don’t come any closer…” you muttered, aiming both pistols at Iron Man’s armour.

Your gesture was profoundly in vain, as your footsteps stopped and Tony was close enough to grab the pistols tightly and wrestle them out of your hands, throwing them into the distance, unable for you to avoid. At that exact moment, Iron Man’s suit disappeared, allowing you to look at him again, much closer than the first time. You didn’t know if it was a mind game, but you could almost feel a strange connection between your gazes, the way he looked at you as if he wanted to tell you something, as if he was hiding a long way in them.

“God, I’d almost forgotten what your face…” Tony’s words were inconclusive, but he voiced a smile at the end of them.

What? you wanted to ask out loud, it was so strange, so incomprehensible to you that you were almost terrified at that moment. His eyes looked at you as if they had known you all your life, as if you had lived too many moments together to remember them all, and you just wanted to ask him about it, but you did not. Tony’s arm was around your waist before you could even react and he pulled you close to him, his lips firmly against yours. For Tony it was one of the best sensations of his life, every limb seemed to fill with energy, his skin bristled, he placed his other hand on your back preventing you from fleeing if you had any intention of doing so. He felt your body scent envelop him again after so many years away from you and it brought a lump to his throat. He didn’t want to separate from you, he couldn’t separate from you, he was terrified inside, he could hardly move his lips, for he feared you would run away if he did.

On your part it was something completely unexpected that you didn’t know how to carry out, it seemed that your common sense was lost somewhere, as if it had extrapolated from your body and didn’t act. Your eyes remained open for the first few seconds, observing the nothingness, but when you felt his second hand on your back to bring you closer to him, they closed very slowly, as if you expected to receive an answer from this act to your numerous doubts. You held still, with no intention of separating yourself from him. You wouldn’t deny that you hadn’t thought about what it would be like to kiss Tony Stark, but that wasn’t the Tony Stark you knew.

It was time that decided when to end it, Tony’s face was the one that put distance, but his minus was still glued to your back. He leaned his forehead against yours, exposing his ragged breath against your face.

“Who are you?” you whispered against his lips without opening your eyes yet.

Tony pulled back a few inches, opened his eyes and brought his hands to your face analysing every facial feature before him, running his thumb over your cheeks and lips.

“I promise I’ll fix it,” he whispered feeling himself. “It’ll be all right.”

“What… What will be alright?” your hesitation felt present in your words, it was incomprehensible what he was saying.

“I…” began Tony.

As if the breath stopped in your lungs, you took one last exhale before everything went dark and you hips surrendered in Tony’s arms. The tip of the sceptre had grazed your body causing you to enter a deep sleep from which when you awoke you would possibly think that everything you had experienced was a dream, or that it was really Loki who was playing with you.

“It would have been rather more gentlemanly of you to let me do it,” Tony looked at Steve spitefully as he held your body in his hands.

A fearful sigh escaped Tony’s lips as he carefully laid your body on the floor and ran his palm over his face, facing a voice that told him he couldn’t leave.

“Tony, we can’t leave any loose ends,” Steve whispered as he watched Tony continue to hold you in his arms. “I know how much you want to get back to her. So the sooner we get this over with, the sooner you’ll be reunited,” Steve rested his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “By the way, where do you have the tesseract?”

“Interesting question…”

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nitrochiralfan · 3 years ago

Text

The Day is Dawning [Tokiakari]

All credit to the transualtion of the novel chapter belongs to memera and their hard work don’t repost without crediting them.

That day it had rained since morning. That’s why for the entire day, the sky had been so dark you could not tell if it was noon or night. Right now the time was 2am. Akira breathed out a sigh as he gazed out the window. Occasionally, a straight line of light from the east flashed through the rain.

Isn’t he kind of late?

As Motomi worked as a journalist, it wasn’t surprising that he often came home after midnight, but today’s case was supposed to be a simple one.

Akira’s eyes darted over and over to the clock hanging on the wall.

So slow.

In this room lighted by only a small lamp, Akira had lost count of how many times he had sighed as he looked at the empty road outside through his own reflection on the window. They had moved here for only a month, but it wouldn’t be long before they moved again.

What’s the next case? Your work seems to be going smoothly.

At first Akira had simply been cluelessly following along, but he had quickly become a proper assistant. It had been years since the happenings in Toshima. It wasn’t always peaceful, but their life had never had any serious problems.

Travelling around with Motomi had been quite exciting and fun.At one point he even thought he could do this forever.However, sometimes the little flickers of doubt would cross his mind.

There’s no such thing as forever. Surely someday, something bad would happen.

Usually Akira could erase those thoughts quickly, but today, he couldn’t even push them away. The thoughts were quickly piling up instead.

I hate this feeling, but what if something bad had really happened?

Unable to suppress the bad feelings, Akira clenched his teeth as he stood in the dark watching the rain fall outside.

It was then that it happened. A faint sound came from the front door. Was it the sound of footsteps? It seemed too uneven and irregular for that. Just as Akira was cautiously approaching the door, an unnatural sound thumped against the door.

“….!”

Akira tensed up. He pinned his eyes at the door instinctively. The door stood in the dimly lit hall way, as the sound of someone shaking the door repeatedly could be heard.

Is it a robber or a thug?

Akira held his breath and watched silently as the door unlocked and slowly opened. Akira concentrated hard, his body ready to pounce.

The silhouette that the dim lights were showing was——

Akira breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that face.

It was Motomi.

Was that unsteady gait because he’s drunk?

Motomi’s brows were furrowed as he tried to call out Akira’s name.

Motomi did not seem to enter the room. His posture was unnatural, and he leaned heavily against the door. A droplet dripped down from his right side. At first Akira had thought it was a raindrop, but as soon as the light in the room hit Motomi, Akira knew he was wrong.

——It was blood.

“Old man…!?”

“Akira… sorry but… could you lend me a hand?”

Motomi’s voice was slow and unconcerned, a tone completely opposite to the severity of the situation. Akira immediately went up and put Motomi’s outstretched arm around his shoulder. The dark orange shirt he wore under his coat had a huge black stain on it. Just that alone drew Akira’s attention to the blood.

Motomi leaned against Akira and they moved slowly, his face frowning and his one eye squeezed shut in pain. Motomi gave a bitter laugh.

“Ow…ouch ouch. They really did me in this time.”

“What in the world happened?”

“Mm, well, you know…”

The talk can wait. Right now the important thing was to tend to these wounds. Carefully supporting this body so much bigger than his, Akira led Motomi to the bedroom.

“Man, I’m beat.”

Motomi breathed out a large puff of smoke from the cigarette he had taken a deep puff from, and fell onto the bed he was leaning on. Akira took out some bandages from the first aid kit and sighed as he closed the lid. They had prepared this kit in case of any injuries on their travels.

The hospital was closed at this hour of night, but thankfully his injuries were not too serious.

Rest for now, we can go see a doctor tomorrow.

Motomi’s right torso had been slashed with a knife.

Akira had since wrapped it in bandages cleanly. Motomi had been bleeding so bad before the bandages, yet now after it was so nicely wrapped up in white, it almost looked like there hadn’t been a wound at all. But one look at the blood-soaked towel used to clean the wounds, and you would know that wasn’t true.

“So?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’ me.”

Akira glared at Motomi, who was lying on the bed acting like there wasn’t a problem. Even without using words, it was obvious Akira had a billion questions he was demanding answers to. Akira haphazardly left the first aid kit on the side table and sat down lightly on the bed.

“Mmm? Well yeah…” Motomi scratched his nose with the hand holding his cigarette and replied lazily, “Maybe it was just a random attacker or somethin’. I dunno.”

——Something must’ve definitely happened, Akira thought.

If Motomi was brushing it off like that, it must’ve been something he found hard to talk about. But that was also why the silence that Akira returned was filled with serious anger. He wasn’t mad that Motomi was pretending to make light of the situation, he was mad that it was something so bad that would make Motomi clamp up in silence. Motomi peaked at Akira, saw his glare, and quickly looked away.

Silence.

Akira held his glare steady, never looking away. The smoke from Motomi’s cigarette filled the space between them.

Motomi emptied his cigarette ashes into an empty can on the side table. Even a movement as light as this, sounded extremely loud in their silence. It was a brief minute, but it felt like an endless moment of tension and nerves.

“Geez, I just don’t know what to do with you.”

Motomi let out a laugh of defeat as he put out his cigarette on the brim of the empty can. His brows were furrowed as he tried to get up.

“Does it hurt?”

“…Sort of. But I’m fine.”

Motomi supported himself up with an elbow on the edge of the bed, and leaned against the wall. He looked straight into Akira’s eyes. “Well, the situation was like this. I was attacked suddenly. There was a back alley, away from the main road. It was dark and narrow. They hit me from the back when I was passing through.”

“Did you see their face?”

“It was too dark and too sudden. I didn’t. …But well my guess is…”

Motomi stopped there, rubbing his chin like he was thinking of something.

“Your guess is…?”

“Nah, it just feels like it was a face I had seen before somewhere. …My guess is it’s someone from Rabbit, maybe.”

“Rabbit…”

——The pharmaceutical company, Rabbit. A big-named company that everyone knew. In reality, it was a coverup for the research institute ENED, that was the cause of all the tragedies in Toshima.

“But why would they do that to you, old man?”

“Well, I can think of a million reasons why. After all, I am a journalist of the truth, ya know?”

Saying that, Motomi shrugged his shoulders in a joking way.

I want to bring to light the truths that were twisted or silenced —— That motto of his was what led Motomi to do this line of work even to this day. Of course, he had also tried to reveal as much as he could about what had happened in Toshima, even though that had put his life at risk. It was also the reason why they never stayed put in one place too long. But because they had never actually gotten seriously injured before, Akira had grown complacent and ignored all the occasional little worries that would appear in his head.

If only we could just keep on living like this peacefully and carefree, he had thought.

But of course…

“Well, this could also be considered a scoop! ‘Employee of a seemingly-good company, attacks a civilian!’ or something like that.”

“Is it really the time to be joking?”

“Mm?”

The words that escaped Akira’s lips sounded calm, but inside he was mad at how Motomi always acted like everything was a joke and nothing was serious to him. Like his wound just now. Even though it wasn’t a deep injury, he had lost a lot of blood.

So much blood.

…Blood…

“…Hey. Akira?”

The sight of Motomi’s bandages was wavering in Akira’s vision.

Motomi was frowning as he peaked at Akira’s face.

Under all that white bandage, was all red. The white hides the red; the color of emptiness. Suddenly, Akira’s anger evaporated and he felt absolutely nothing. He felt separated from his vision and from his consciousness, as if he had gone into someone else’s body. An image appeared, overlapping with what his eyes were actually seeing before him. A world covered in red. A reality that felt so far away. The scene that was flashing before his eyes was not that of the room he was in.

It was dark, and dirty; a scene of Toshima.

“Oi! What’s wrong?!”

Motomi’s voice was far, far away. Akira felt like his consciousness was being swallowed up. A nausea started to bubble up in him. It felt intolerable.

“Akira? Akira!”

When Akira’s eyes opened, the first thing he saw was the beige ceiling, dimly lit by the room lamp.

—— This isn’t Toshima.

When Akira realized this, he slowly let out the breath he had been holding.

Akira had covered his eyes with an arm. When he blocked his sight this way, he could feel his heartbeat was pounding faster than usual. On that same arm, Akira felt something dry and warm touch him.

“…Are you alright?”

When Akira uncovered his eyes, he was looking right into Motomi’s gentle eyes above him.

“…Old man, what about your wound?”

“Idiot. Worry about yourself right now, not me.”

Even though Motomi’s words sounded surprised, it was dipped with concern. Motomi lifted the hand he was holding Akira’s arm with, and touched his forehead.

“You don’t seem to have a fever. How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok.”

“Do you want to eat something?”

“No.”

“But let me guess, you haven’t eaten a thing since morning right? The contents of the fridge and the food stocked up haven’t changed since I left.” Motomi looked so brusque, yet because of his work he had a surprising eye for detail.

Weirdly touched by this thought, Akira shook his head.

Although Akira had always been this way, always having little to no appetite, it was especially so when he was left alone. He just simply did not feel like eating when he was alone, and he often went the whole day without food.

Although he was usually alright without food, today he just felt rather out of it. He was starting to feel like he might have a fever.

“Even if it’s just a bite, you have to eat something. Hang on.”

This time Motomi really sounded teasing. He got up as if to go to the kitchen, but he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned around, looking surprised.

Confused, Akira followed Motomi’s eyes right down to…

Akira quickly let go of his hand.

Instinctively, he had grabbed Motomi’s shirt. Maybe it was the fever frying his brain, but he himself had not realized what he had done.

——He’s going to tease me…

Although Akira had braced himself, Motomi said nothing, but instead cracked a small smile. He lowered his big hand and patted Akira’s head.

“What’s wrong? Are you worried?”

“…….”

“Well we did have a smooth trip so far.”

Even though Akira did not say a word, Motomi probably knew what he was thinking. Motomi sat back down on the bed. The bed springs bounced lightly. Because he was wearing a shirt, the badges on his torso were not visible.

“Well, anyway, I kinda figured something like that would happen one day. …But really, relax! It’s nothing for you worry about at all!”

His rugged fingertips brushed against Akira’s cheek.

“I said I would bring you with me, even to my grave, right? A man never goes back on his words. Anyway you’re the dangerous one.”

“What the heck does that mean?”

“It means I can’t leave you alone. You’re always so freaking stubborn, yet also surprisingly frail.”

Akira opened his mouth to argue, but he could not find the words, so he averted his eyes instead. He could not disagree. After all, he had just passed out for no reason.

“I won’t die that easily even if I’m killed.” Motomi laughed.

Akira glared at him. “Stop that.”

“Hm?”

“Don’t talk about dying and stuff.”

Motomi might have been trying to be funny, but Akira thought it was extremely unpleasant. It was not something Akira thought one should be joking about. Motomi looked surprised for one second, then he quickly resumed his smile.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Two thick arms slid around Akira, and carefully pulled him into a huge hug.

Akira instinctively wanted to struggle against it, but his body went limp as it was engulfed in Motomi’s.

I almost forgot he was injured. Better not struggle.

But even if Motomi had not been injured, Akira somehow guessed that he would probably not have struggled either. Akira rested his chin on the strong shoulders before him. Usually at this point, Motomi would be teasing Akira, but instead of doing that, he was quietly and gently patting Akira’s back.

“Ok, how about this. I won’t die. You won’t die either. Until the day you tell us to go and die, we will keep living on for a hundred, no, a thousand years. Yeah?”

“I don’t want to live for that long.”

“Haha, I see.”

Akira could feel Motomi’s warmth from the arm he was resting his cheek on. He was wrapped in Motomi’s smell.

To be honest, Akira was surprised at himself. Despite that bad memory that had flooded his head just as he was about to pass out, Akira suddenly felt like everything was ok now. He felt like he could “exist together” with this memory. But it was just too vivid to think that way. Without losing its color, the pain would slowly but gradually overflow.

But was that alright? Akira thought. No, more like, it is alright. These wounds embedded deeply in him from all that he had lost, Akira had decided to accept and live with them from the day he left Toshima.

And thus, this pain and this fear, they were necessary. He must never forget them. They were the undeniable proof that right now, he was breathing and living.

And right now, he had someone who could share his pain and support him. Just this alone filled Akira with joy.

If Motomi said he was ok, then Akira wanted to accept that and wanted to believe in him.

Akira found it funny and a little strange that he was now able to to think this way. The large hand that was patting Akira’s back, moved up to caress his cheek. The distance between them shortened.

Akira waited for Motomi’s gentle eyes to close, then he too, did the same.

“…nn…”

They touched. Their lips met again and again. Slowly Akira got used to the prodding tongue that carefully pushed into his mouth. Motomi’s rugged fingers treated Akira like he was glass, occasionally a bit rough, but always gentle. These fingers ran through Akira’s hair, clasping. The occasional wet sounds made Akira feel embarrassed, but their intertwining, fluttering tongues quickly made that embarrassment disappear.

“…I can’t get enough of you, seriously.”

The words that Motomi had blurted out in the heat of their kiss lit a fire in the pits of Akira’s belly.

He’s always like that. He always says things that he knew would embarrass Akira. And worse, he always knew the worst time to do it.

“…That’s enough.”

Akira had pushed his arms out, trying to get away, but even his entire resistance was swallowed up in an embrace.

“Let go.”

“Sure, sure.”

“I’m telling you to let go.”

“Well that’s going to be a problem. ‘Cause I’m mad…”

“…Mad about what?”

“This old man. Is mad. About you.”

“…….”

Clearly Akira’s words were not getting into Motomi’s head. He was starting to feel super annoyed, and he let out a loud sigh. As if to scoop up all of Akira’s sighs, Motomi broke into a small smile as he pressed their lips together again.

As Akira slowly gave in, he thought, I don’t exactly hate this.

When did I start to feel comfortable with this feeling of excitement?

When did I start to feel relief whenever Motomi’s hands touched me?

This is how two people shared their feelings and accepted one another.

Since when did I start to realize this?

After a long kiss, Akira felt the springs of the bed on his back. He took in a deep breath.

———

“You know, I’ve always thought this.”

“Thought what?”

“That your cooking is really bad, you know….?”

“……”

Akira pouted and muttered unhappily to himself.

“Well fine, then don’t eat it.” Akira said, as he slammed the table with one hand and stood up.

Who was it that said they were busy so they wanted me to cook?

When they had just come back from the hospital, a work call had come in. Akira had tried to tell Motomi he should rest instead, but it was a major client so Motomi could not refuse. Akira narrowed his eyes at the gentle sunshine coming in from the window. The sky was so clear today that the dark rain from yesterday felt like a lie. Ever since he started living with Motomi, he had tried to do housework. Maybe it was because Akira never had a homely lifestyle before, but no matter how he tried he just could not get better at it.

Especially when it came to food.

Akira had always felt he was ok even if he didn’t eat. Needless to say, he did not care about the taste either.

Motomi raised a brow and seemed to want to say something but he couldn’t decide how to put it.

“Well I mean……, the person who marries you is gonna suffer.”

“Not really. It’s not confirmed that I’ll be the one doing the cooking.”

“Hey you never know. Housework and child raising is too hard for only one party. It’s important to share the workload, you know?”

After swallowing the ‘thing’ on his spoon, Motomi made a weird face. He then pressed his index finger to his wrinkled brow in a deliberate manner. It got on Akira’s nerves the way Motomi was talking him to like he was arguing with a child.

“In the first place, who would I even marry?”

“Hmm, who knows?”

“……”

Hearing that answer, Akira grew increasingly irritated.

When he said they would be together to the grave, didn’t he mean they’d be together till death do us part? Wasn’t it Motomi who said that?

But despite that, it’s not like Akira had ever gave any thought about their relationship or anything like that. It’s not like Akira had ever expected ‘Forever’ or other words like that. He just thought he wanted them to be together, for as long as possible. That was all. However, hearing such words and their vague meaning wasn’t pleasant at all.

Was it ok for the two of them to be together? Or was it actually not ok, but they just kind of ended up together? Such thoughts started to flood Akira’s head. Leaning with one elbow on the table, Motomi looked up at Akira, grinning.

“Ohh what a poor thing! I feel so sorry for the poor person who has to marry you.”

Listening to what was Motomi’s obvious teasing, Akira’s irritation turned into anger.

I was an idiot to think about our relationship so seriously!

“Old man.”

“Hm?”

“Are you done?”

“With what?”

“…Are you DONE—“

With a swoop, Motomi had suddenly stood up and slipped his arm under Akira’s thigh and arm. Akira was so shocked he forgot what he was about to say, letting his guard down. In a scoop, Motomi picked Akira right up.

“……oof, you’re really heavy.”

“Yeah no shit. PUT ME DOWN!”

Motomi grimaced and gave a bitter laugh.

He was injured just yesterday. It wouldn’t be a surprise if doing this was painful. “Ow ow ow. Don’t struggle, it makes my wound hurt more. Well anyway, don’t you think there’s at least one of these poor sobs in the world who would? Huh Akira?”

“…What?”

“I mean if it was me I’d even cook delicious food.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Akira was so busy trying to figure out how to get down that he was not really getting what Motomi was talking about. In fact, Motomi’s words were going in his right ear and exiting right out the left.

Motomi happily squinted at Akira struggling in his arms and the corners of his mouth raised into a grin.

“In fact, how about we get married right now?”

“!?”

The words were so shocking that it snapped Akira right back into attention. He stared at Motomi’s face.

What the heck was this old man talking about?

…Was my cooking that bad that it had made him go strange?

While these thoughts were racing through Akira’s mind, Motomi’s grin got wider and wider. Akira suddenly got really mad, and ignoring Motomi’s injuries he struggled wildly to get out of Motomi’s grip.

Motomi watched Akira’s reaction but continue going on about how painful his wound was, as he quietly adjusted his balance and tightened his grip so that Akira could not get away.

“Idiot! Let go!”

“Hahaha!”

Motomi’s joyful laughter reverberated from the rampaging Akira under his chin, all the way out the open window, into the bright blue sky.

END

First Publication: Cool-B 2005 vol. 3 / 2005 August 4th

——

The Day is Dawning Explanation

This was a short story published in Cool-B. The theme was Motomi and Akira.

I was trying to write that Akira, who was completely indifferent to the warmth and connection to other people, gradually beginning to realize that it was ‘good thing” after being near Motomi. And once he slowly began to accept it, he would start to try approaching people on his own accord. Akira would also start to worry about how vague the future is, and I think this shows a change in how he thinks now.

I also did not plan for Motomi to say “Let’s get married” at all, but somehow Motomi just ended up saying it (LOL). When it comes to Motomi, he seems to write himself often, just like his “Bring you with me to the grave” words.

I chose this title (Tokiakari) after seeing the dictionary explanation: “As dawn breaks, the eastern sky becomes slightly brighter, or, when it’s raining, the clouds occasionally part, and the sky become brighter”.

—Fuchii Kabura

#togainu no chi #togainu no chi gaiden #togainu no chi novel #motomi tnc #akira tnc

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evilzoldyck · 4 years ago

Note

plz do more phinks 😿

What I have learned about myself since starting this blog is that when people suggest what I should write it always makes me want to do the opposite- but yooo... sometimes... I just can’t not write for Phinks when there’s a chance 😼

“Ungrateful bitch,” Phinks tossed you harshly sending you to the floor with a heavy audible thud. His scowl deepened when you casted those menacing glare at him as you held yourself up from the floor, intent on getting back up to fight him again.

Phinks had caught you trying to sneak out from under his nose when a power outage occurred in the middle of the night, making the house turned uncomfortably cold. Your months of practice to guilefully trick him that you were asleep didn’t pay off much for when you grabbed ahold of the door knob that he carelessly left unlocked as he went out to check the fuse box, Phinks was already standing before you. His face pinched tightly and his fists curled up into a firm ball. At that point you knew you were in for a hell of a night.

“How could you?” He spat venomously, grabbing your arms and pining you to the wall. You desperately tried to escape from his tenacious hold but he just dug his nails further into you with the slightest moves.

You didn’t answer his question, instead you struggled and clamoured against him clawing and beating at his unyielding form above you. Your short breaths turned into a sudden halt when one of his forceful hand wrapped itself easily around your throat and squeezing it with an iron grip. You gasped and wheezed out at the lack of oxygen flowing from your lungs, choking out a gasp as your mouth opened helplessly like a fish out of water.

“And here I was thinking we actually made some progress,” his bloodshot eyes pierced into your quivering form. Phinks manoeuvred around the room dragging you along with as if you were a mere rag doll. “You’d taken me as a fool. I bet you laughed at me behind my back after all these times.”

Just as when you were about to lose consciousness from his tight asphyxiation, Phinks unlocked the door leading to the outside and threw you to the hard icy ground. “If you’d rather the cold than me,” he sneered. “Then so be it.” After that he slid the door closed with a resolute click of the lock.

You wheezed out loudly once the frigid air reached your system once again. Placing your palm out to the ground you barely lifted your head to find that your vision, albeit blurry, was not deceiving you. After these countless months being trapped in the isolated house with him were you now finally outside. You could feel the snow numbing your fingers, you can actually feel the biting cold wind breeze through your hair.

‘This has got to be a trick,’ you thought, but when you glanced over your shoulder you saw that Phinks wasn’t even by the door anymore; and with that you took your rare opportunity and took off.

You didn’t know how far you ran but you were well aware that nobody came after you, making you press further out into the deep snowy woods. It was when your lungs singed despite the wintry air and your throat stung as if you hadn’t had a taste of water in years did you start slowing down. To add to your plight, the thick snow that you raked through with strenuous effort had reached up to your knees.

Gasping you suddenly fell down into the pillow of billions of snowflakes biting sharply at your exposed skin. You could see your breath in front of you and you could barely feel your shaking hands now. Knowing that you barely made it out of the woods and into civilisation, you started to lose all hope of escaping. All you could see under the night sky was white, there wasn’t even the slightest of noise from a living creature for the only sound you heard was the howling through the air.

Even the animals knew better and burrowed themselves into the comfort of their own home, safe from the cruel raging cold outside. You were going to die here, alone, your corpse buried in the snow until spring comes only for your body to be finally decomposed. Maybe you could finally be at peace and truly escape from his possessive vice...

But self-preservation doesn’t work like that.

Unfortunately death didn’t come fast enough. The more you persuaded yourself, the more of the torturous pain you felt lying underneath the blanket of snow. With the vestige of your very last energy, you spent it on crawling and stumbling your way back to the house.

In the midst of your effort to get back, you scorned at him, hating how Phinks never came after you like he did before. Chasing you down a myriad of times as if you were a loose pet. The anger that fueled your survival until you could finally see the light from the house had all dissipated. You clambered to the porch and knocked on the glass with urgency, hoping to catch his attention.

Phinks finally came into view as he watched your vulnerable self pleading for him to let you in. The amount of apologies that left your lips never stopped once he gratefully opened the lock and slid the glass door back open. Phinks picked up your trembling form as you clung onto him tightly, relishing in the heat that he offered in which warmed your terribly numb body.

You still stuttered out sycophantic apologies through your clattering teeth as Phinks sighed wilfully. He knew you needed to do far more than give him a few pleas of regret, but he figured that for now this was a start.

#tw: suicidal thoughts #tw: death #yandere phinks x reader #phinks x reader #yandere x reader #tw: yandere #yandere hxh #yandere phantom troupe #Phantom Troupe #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere phinks magcub x reader #reader insert #yandere

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lillotte17 · 3 years ago

Text

Blossoms on a Bough

Fix-it/filler for the end of episode 36!!!

The first thing Wen Kexing notices, once his mind has floated up towards any sense of consciousness, is a bright cool light shining on his face. His brows twitch downwards in irritation, the intensity of it stinging his eyes even while they are still closed. His body feels like lead, and his thoughts are thick and muddy. He just wants to ignore the light and drift back off to sleep.

Wherever he is, he seems to have landed on something relatively soft and warm. It is surprising, since his general ideas about the netherworld involve darkness and cold, but he is certainly not going to complain. Perhaps, given the long list of his transgressions, his soul flew right past the Yellow River and dropped straight into hell, and now he is being fried in a pot just like that chicken that had chased Chengling around the Four Seasons Manor. The thought makes him want to laugh, but there is an odd tightness in his chest, so the best he can manage is an incredibly weak cough.

A faint rustling of cloth sounds by his ear as whatever he is reclining on shifts slightly. There is a vague sense of presence nearby, but he cannot tell more than that. Almost against his will, he cracks his eyes open to see who might be trapped in the stew pot with him, but there is only a dark looming blur surrounded by pale watery light. It makes him think of Zhou Zishu; his face bathed in sunshine, in moonshine, in starlight. He always seemed to glow with something intangible and dream-like. And Wen Kexing -helpless little month- could do nothing else but follow after it.

“Ah Xu,” he exhales in the barest of whispers.

A scent lingers in the air around him, crisp and lightly musky. It reminds him of burying his fingers in long dark tresses. Of the tenderness and care taken combing the tangles out of them afterwards. Of sliding his own hair pin into the carefully twisted knot at the crown of Zhou Zishu’s head. He should have brought him a different one to replace it, he thinks blearily. The key was most likely lost or broken in all of that snow, and now he will have nothing to remember him by.

This place is strange, wherever it is. Soothing and disorientating all at once. Is it some sort of hallucination? Did his soul get lost somewhere between life and death? Is he a true ghost now, doomed to wander the world in hopeless despair, witnessing joys he can no longer take part in? Thoughts spin around in his head in a billion tiny fragments. He cannot quite seem to catch hold of any of them, or arrange them in a pattern that makes sense.

“Am I dead?” he wonders aloud, his voice thin and raspy, not expecting an answer.

“You fucking better not be,” a cross reply rumbles out from somewhere above him.

Wen Kexing blinks. The sun still burns his eyes, but after a few moments of intense squinting, the dark blur leaning over him reconfigures itself into a familiar and beloved face. Zhou Zishu, leaning back against a dusty wall with Wen Kexing pulled more than half way into his lap.

“What…happened?” Wen Kexing wonders, head positively spinning in bafflement. Now that he is waking up a bit more, he is becoming more aware of his body’s aches and pains. It feels like a horse kicked him in the chest and then he fell into a river and drowned. Even wincing hurts.

“Something went wrong with the ritual,” Zishu tells him. His voice is raw and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks as haggard as Wen Kexing feels. “You collapsed. Your heart meridians were severely damaged, and your hair turned white. You must have used too much of your internal force. It has been more than three days since you lost consciousness and…I thought…”

His voice splinters and he trails off, looking away from him for a moment.

“But…it worked?” Wen Kexing presses, trying to feebly grip at Zhou Zishu’s sleeve, “You can hear me talking again now, so that means that it worked, right? The rest is fine, so long as it saved you.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Zhou Zishu answers, the first traces of a smile pulling at his lips.

“Yes. You are here.” Wen Kexing echoes, as though he still cannot quite believe it, “And…I am here, too.”

“You are.” Zishu confirms, his arms tightening around him, carefully tugging him up until he is all but leaning into his chest. “It was a near thing, though. My medical knowledge is limited, and even with the Yin Yang book, I was not certain that I could heal you.”

“Rong Xuan’s wife allegedly used the teachings in the book to heal his heart meridians and other serious injuries when he was near death several times over,” Wen Kexing hums thoughtfully, casually tilting his head against Zishu’s shoulder, “But she was an experienced physician. You have had no training, and yet you saved me on the first try. You must possess some kind of natural affinity for it. Ah Xu, you have so many talents, I am having a hard time keeping track of them all.”

“It had nothing to do with affinity,” Zhou Zishu huffs, sounding exasperated and perhaps even the tiniest bit embarrassed, “It was pure dumb luck.”

“Eh?”

“The Four Seasons Sect has a special technique that cripples someone’s heart meridians,” he explains somberly, a humorless smirk on his face, “I used it against Prince Jin to keep him alive, but bedridden. My master taught it to me, and as far as I know, I am the only one left alive who knows how to perform it.”

“That is very interesting, Ah Xu, but I am not certain I understand what it has to do with dumb luck,” Wen Kexing says smilingly.

“My master…he also told me how to counter the technique, so that the person’s heart meridians could be healed again and their qi could flow properly,” Zhou Zishu continues, turning his head slightly to directly meet Wen Kexing’s gaze. “I did not have much hope when I opened the Yin Yang book. You were slipping away, and there was no time for in-depth research. But…when I found the section detailing how someone with damaged meridians might be cured, it was obvious that…the techniques I learned from my master were based on this knowledge.”

“So…that means…my parents…?” Wen Kexing looks a bit lost at the revelation.

Zhou Zishu nods.

“It is likely that Lady Yue Feng’Er and your parents shared this precious knowledge with their friends, and possibly even helped my master develop this skill. I was only able to save you because of this.”

Wen Kexing furrows is brows, his thoughts whirling and his emotions complex. He seemingly stares at the dark blue of Zhou Zishu’s lapels for what feels like ages, looking but not seeing, pensive and moody. Finally, he lets out a very tired-sounding sigh.

“And I only managed to save you because that dumb bastard Rong Xuan stole the manual for the Six Cultivation Techniques,” he says, sounding bitter, “But maybe no one would have needed all this saving in the first place if that old monster had never let his idiot disciple leave the mountain to begin with.”

Zhou Zishu frowns down at him.

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, a bit sulky, “The past is past. Zhao Jing was punished and the rest are dead. There is no point stewing on it now. I have just…been angry about it for so long, sometimes I forget that I don’t have to be anymore. Be patient with me, Ah Xu.”

“Hm?” Zishu blinks, as though suddenly coming back to himself. “Oh, it wasn’t about that.”

“Then what?”

“I was just thinking that…it really could not have been anyone else,” Zhou Zishu tells him slowly, intensity burning in his dark eyes. “I said it was only dumb luck, because I never believed in destiny all that much before. If you want to achieve something in this world, you have to be willing to create it for yourself. But…for things to end up this way… It had to be you, and it had to be me, didn’t it?”

Wen Kexing bursts out laughing, utterly delighted.

“I always knew you had a soft heart beneath that tough exterior,” he grins, slightly breathless, with an almost pleasant ache in his ribs, “But Ah Xu, I never imagined that you were secretly a romantic.”

“Shut up,” Zishu grunts, pinching his arm until he yelps, “Who is romantic?”

“Ai, there is no need to be shy about it now, is there?” Wen Kexing says pleadingly, giggling to himself all the while, “There is no one here except us.”

“That’s right,” Zhou Zishu agrees blithely, a truly terrifying expression stealing across his face, “There is no one on this entire mountain except for you and me.”

“Ah Xu, don’t do anything rash,” Wen Kexing cajoles with a hint of genuine nervousness, “I only teased you a little bit, and I am still in such a delicate state of health. If you throw me out in the snow and beat me, I really won’t be-”

Zhou Zishu kisses him then, and whatever he won’t be promptly flies out of his head like a startled flock of birds.

The kiss is softer than he would have guessed, if he had gotten a moment to anticipate it. Clumsy, but tender. Hasty, but sincere. The mouth pressed so suddenly against his own trembles just slightly right before it pulls away. A thousand years too soon.

It is nowhere near the first time they have kissed each other, but Wen Kexing is almost always the instigator. It suits his own preferences to take the lead in most physical forms of intimacy anyway, so he would never complain about it. However, it does make the times Zhou Zishu reaches for him first feel more…something. Something that makes his heart full, and his eyes itch.

It makes him feel as though he is not only being accepted by this man, but chosen by him, too. As his partner. As his equal. As his friend. Lovers and soulmates and all the rest.

Wen Kexing is not certain that anyone else has ever chosen him before.

Not when there were other, better, options on hand, at any rate.

He swallows thickly, gazing up at Zhou Zishu with wide, startled eyes. Little flecks of cold mountain sunlight catch in the dark sweep of the other man’s hair almost like snowflakes. His grin is wide and fierce. Buoyant and hopeful in a way he has never been in all the time they have known each other. He looks impossibly beautiful, and horribly pleased with himself for managing to derail Wen Kexing’s usual babbling. There might be the slightest touch of pink to his ears, though.

“Ah Xu,” Wen Kexing chokes out.

I love you.

But the words get stuck in his throat.

“What?” Zishu laughs, “Do you ever get tired of calling me?”

“No.” Wen Kexing offers him a weak smile in return, shifting out of his hold a little so they can sit facing one another.

Zhou Zishu heaves an exasperated sigh, but his eyes remain bright, his expression one of incalculable fondness.

“Is that all you were saying during the ritual?” he wonders, half joking, “You just sat there calling my name?”

“Huh?”

“You said earlier that you had tried speaking to me, but my hearing had gone,” Zhou Zishu reminds him, “What did you say?”

“Oh, yes, it was mostly just your name over and over,” Wen Kexing nods, “Plus a few embarrassing personal anecdotes I felt like sharing. Once I knew you had no way to stop me, I really couldn’t help myself.”

“Lao Wen.”

“Yes, Ah Xu?”

“After all we have been through together, what could you possibly still have to tell me that you think I would be unwilling to hear?”

Wen Kexing makes a face, caught outright.

“It…is not so much a matter of thinking you would not hear me out,” he admits carefully, “It is more that there are just things that are difficult to say to someone. The more important they are to you, the harder it gets, so between you and me… But when a man feels his end has come, all sorts of things seem to tumble out unwillingly.”

Zhou Zishu looks positively stricken.

“You could tell that the cultivation technique was backfiring?” he hisses out, gasping Wen Kexing by the shoulders, “And you still kept going?”

“What else could I do?” Wen Kexing asks helplessly, “If I had stopped wouldn’t we both die? Would it be better if I had starved to death with your corpse in my arms? Besides, that old monster promised me that this technique could save you, so no matter what the cost was going to be, of course I-”

“So, you knew there would be a cost already?” Zhou Zishu cuts him off, expression like a brewing storm cloud, “You knew this was likely going to injure you, and you did not even think to warn me first? We could have prepared beforehand! You could have looked through the Yin Yang book and point out things that I could use to help you in an emergency! Dammit, Lao Wen, I thought you were supposed to be smarter than this!”

“Was there really time for things like that?” Wen Kexing argues back, “Your senses were already dying out one by one, if we did not try the technique as soon as possible, you might not have been able to complete it! If I told you how risky it is, would you agree to it? Would you still let me try to save you?”

“I deserve the right to make that choice!” Zhou Zishu shouts hoarsely.

“You do!” Wen Kexing agrees just as hotly, “But I owe it to Chengling to save his family. And I owe it to our master to save his teachings. And I owe it to you most of all. I ruined your chance at happiness. To rebuild the Four Seasons with Chengling and the other new disciples. You threw it all away to try and avenge me… The number of people in this world who have been good to me are few enough to count on one hand. I would do anything for them, and you most of all. How could I live without repaying this debt?”

“And what if I hadn’t been able to save you?!” Zhou Zishu demands thunderously.

“I didn’t expect you to save me!”

For a few moments, the words seem to echo of the cold walls of the armory, bouncing back at them over and over. The silence that follows after them is deafening. Zishu’s eyes are red, and his hands are trembling on Wen Kexing’s biceps, but he looks as though he is about to breathe fire.

“Good,” he says finally, his voice low and deadly, “Very good. You feel like you owe me so much, but all you want to do is torture me.”

“What?” Wen Kexing baulks, “No! Ah Xu, that’s not what I-”

But before he can finish the thought Zhou Zishu has already pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace, his breathing erratic, and his face buried in the side of his neck. Wen Kexing makes a pained grunt, his ribs still tender from previous injury. It only makes Zishu’s grip on him tighten, however, holding onto him with a furious desperation.

“In such a short stretch of time, I have had to see you dead or dying before my eyes over and over again,” he mumbles thickly into the silk of Wen Kexing’s robes, “You spent all this time chasing me down, pestering me to let you stay by my side, begging me not to die, and telling me to find things to feel hopeful about. But now it seems as though you are set on leaving me behind.”

“I never wanted to leave you,” Wen Kexing protests, but his voice seems to have lost all of its strength, “I just wanted to keep you safe. Even if I died, and you had to be sad for a while, you have so much left to live for, and I wanted you to have it. I just wanted you to be…happy.”

“Bastard,” Zhou Zishu laughs wetly, “Wen Kexing, you really are…the absolute worst sort of person.”

Wen Kexing sags in his embrace, his heart plummeting down into the pit of his stomach. His head droops, white hair falling across his eyes. Utterly defeated.

“I know.”

Zhou Zishu finally pulls back from him. There are obvious tear tracks down his cheeks, but he still looks fierce, regardless. He takes Wen Kexing roughly by the chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“You are also…my happiness.”

Wen Kexing gapes at him, for once in his life completely at a loss for words. Seeing an opening, Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to kiss him again. Harsher this time. Brief and chaste and biting. It does not seem to help the other man’s sense of bafflement in the slightest. Indeed, Lao Wen looks as though his soul might have just flown straight out of his body.

Zishu smiles at him again, but there is still something sharp and wounded at its edges.

“Eternity would be an empty place without you,” he says quietly, “How could you leave me to bear it alone?”

“I…I’m…sorry,” Wen Kexing sputters, as though he does not know what else to say. He finally reaches back for Zhou Zishu, cautiously taking hold of his wrists. The ache in his chest seems to have spread outward, and he is shaking so badly that he fears he might not be able to sit up straight much longer. “I’m sorry. I just did not… I did not know how else to save you.”

“Mn,” Zhou Zishu nods in understanding, “I suppose I can forgive you for it this time, although some part of me still would like nothing so much as to throw you outside and beat some sense into that thick skull of yours.”

“I will accept any punishment you want to give me,” Wen Kexing tells him earnestly.

“Alright,” Zhou Zishu grins, “Then pay me back with your whole life. Stay alive, and stay with me. Always.”

Wen Kexing blinks in surprise, but the next moment he is laughing. Dizzy with relief and unexpected joy. Marveling at the gifts that fate has blessed him with after so many years of hatred and heartache.

“I can do that.”

When Zhou Zishu wakes up later that night Wen Kexing is sitting at the opposite end of their makeshift bed in nothing but his under robe. His back is facing him, and he takes a moment to stare at the snowy cascade of his hair. The living proof of what Lao Wen would sacrifice for him. It looks beautiful on him, as everything else seems to, but Zishu thinks he prefers the rich dark brown that he was born with. This new color comes with a twinge of guilt.

Not that he would ever say so.

“Lao Wen,” he calls softly, “What are you doing?”

Wen Kexing’s shoulders stiffen in surprise.

“Don’t come over,” he replies, “I’m not finished yet.”

“Ai,” Zishu grins, scooting close enough to lightly tug at a few strands of that bone white hair, “But that just makes me want to come over even more.”

“I have a knife,” Lao Wen says coolly, “I will use it if I have to.”

“You left our bed in the middle of the night to play with a knife?” Zishu laughs, not intimidated in the least. “Why?”

“If you stop pestering me for a few minutes maybe you’ll find out,” Wen Kexing snaps. Zhou Zishu is not fooled, though. He had caught the sharp inhale of breath when he had said the words ‘our bed’, and he is all but certain that Lao Wen’s threats are empty.

“But you’ll catch cold,” he coaxes, slipping his arms about his waist and pressing a kiss into his shoulder. He obligingly resists the urge to peek at whatever secret Wen Kexing is fiddling with, though. The other man sighs, but does nothing to discourage him, as expected.

“The next time you accuse me of being insufferable, I want you to remember this conversation,” Wen Kexing says wryly.

“It must be your bad influence,” Zhou Zishu chuckles.

Wen Kexing hums noncommittally, going back to whatever he had been working on before. Zhou Zishu sits patiently behind him, leaning into the warm curve of his back, listening to the steady beating of his heart and the faint scraping sound of a blade chipping away at something. The proximity is comfortable, and the quiet almost meditative, and before long Zishu is already half way back to being asleep.

“Alright,” Lao Wen says finally, carefully pulling himself free of Zhou Zishu’s arms and turning to face him, “You can look now.”

Zishu has to shake himself a little to wake up again, but once he does, he finds that Lao Wen is holding out what appears to be an oddly shaped icicle.

“…What is it?” he asks after a few moments of trying to puzzle it out for himself.

Wen Kexing frowns.

“It’s a hair pin,” he tells him, as though it should be obvious.

“Ah.”

“What do you mean, saying ‘ah’ with such a doubting face?” Wen Kexing huffs in annoyance, “Of course it is a hair pin, what else would it be? You lost the one I gave you before, so now I have to give you a new one to replace it.”

“I lost the one you gave me before?” Zhou Zishu laughs.

“That’s right,” Wen Kexing nods seriously, “But I promise not to be mad about it.”

“Philanthropist Wen is too kind.”

“It’s true,” Lao Wen sighs dramatically, “People are always taking advantage of my generous nature.”

He firmly places the hair pin in Zhou Zishu’s hands. Upon closer inspection, it looks to be roughly shaped like a tree branch. There are two lumpy circles that might be meant to be flowers attempting to bloom from it. The finished product is crude, but the ice is clear and crystalline. Pretty, even despite the skill level of the craftsman.

“It is meant to be plum blossoms,” Wen Kexing admits somewhat sheepishly, “One bloom for each of us. There was meant to be a bud for Chengling, too, but I accidentally broke it off. Hopefully, that is not an inauspicious sign for him.”

“I see,” Zhou Zishu says, because he does see, and just like the morning he had woken up to find the Four Seasons Manor cleaned and Wen Kexing diligently repairing his master’s old painting, he feels very much like he wants nothing more than to pull the other man into his arms again.

“Ah Xu, will you accept it?” Wen Kexing asks, slightly trepidatious at his lack of reaction.

“Of course,” Zishu smiles easily, “But it’s made of ice, after all. If I wear it, it will likely melt or break in a day or so.”

“If it breaks, I will just make you a new one,” Wen Kexing says, his eyes soft. He plucks the hair pin from Zhou Zishu’s fingers, reaching up and carefully sliding it into the loose knot at the base of his ponytail. “I can make you a new one every day, if I have to. With any luck, they will eventually look less ugly.”

He takes Zhou Zishu’s hands in his own.

“There are still things I am not good at saying,” he tells him, “Things that I want to share with you. Things that you deserve to hear. Right now, my skills are not enough, but just like with the hair pin, if I keep working at it every day, eventually I can give you something worth having.”

Zhou Zishu tugs him down into his embrace. He thinks about kissing him. About pushing him down and pulling his robe open and showing him, again, how very much he is wanted. But Lao Wen is still recovering from injuries, and it would be a shame to snap his new hair pin tussling around in the sheets. So, he makes do with holding him close, for now. Tangling his fingers in hair the color of starlight.

“Say them, or don’t say them,” he says quietly against the shell of Wen Kexing’s ear, “Whatever they are, they have no bearing on your worth to me.”

“Doesn’t that seem like my current value is lower than mud?” Wen Kexing laughs nervously.

“It means you are treasured,” Zishu corrects him firmly, “There is no price that I would sell you for.”

“I suppose that means I can stop living in fear that you would truly try and sell me to a brothel.”

“You really are a brat.”

“Ah Xu?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

#word of honor #faraway wanderers #word of honor spoilers #wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #fic #this story did not listen to me AT ALL #these two NEVER listen to me!!!#I wanted to write domestic fluff about hair brushing #but noooo

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vi-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

All I've Ever Known (Ethan x f!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Audrey Lee)

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+ (NSFW content)

Premise: A spontaneous date night leaves Audrey questioning the future of their relationship. Set between Book 2 and 3.

Author's Note: It's been a year since I joined Choices, so I thought I'd try my hand at posting a fic. Title from Hadestown. Big thanks to @queencarb and @imaneditorthankyouverymuch for betareading!

I was alone so long

I didn't even know that I was lonely

Out in the cold so long

I didn't even know that I was cold

Turned my collar to the wind

This is how it's always been

All I've ever known is how to hold my own

__________________________________

Doctor Audrey Lee was not used to the sluggishness that once again occupied most of her days. It was not the caffeine-fueled crash she experienced after a long 16 hour shift, nor was it the unpredictable episodes of insomnia that occasionally plagued her.

Leland Bloom had opened up Edenbrook for a few weeks, before shutting it down to finish the major renovations.

As the sun hit her eyes, she felt the warm body pressed against her back tighten its grasp around her waist. For a brief moment, she relished in the warmth surrounding her. She even allowed herself to believe that she could get used to the feeling of waking up in Ethan's arms.

‘If there even is a future for us…’ Doubt whispers into her ear, poisoning the comfort she found in his embrace.

In the weeks before Edenbrook’s inevitable closing, Audrey, like many of her fellow residents, was looking for somewhere to finish her residency. She had been considering a position back home in New York. When she brought it up with Ethan, he acknowledged her response, but there was no following discussion about what that would have meant for their relationship.

Pushing the thoughts away, she settled back into his embrace. She let herself relax as the muffled sounds of the city below filled the quiet space of the bedroom.

The peace lasted all of five minutes before she began feeling restless again. Uneasiness washed over her as the image of her ripping Bloom's billion dollar check flashed in her mind. In the moment, watching the little shreds of paper sprinkling across the expensive hardwood floor of his mansion had been satisfying. Despite that, she couldn't help but wonder if it was the right move.

If she had accepted the check and handed it to Naveen, Leland would have been convinced that she was on his side. In reality, Audrey trusted him as far as she could throw the old man. Her preference was that he landed into the depths of the icy Atlantic Ocean.

Ripping the check was the right move, but it left her in the dark when it came to Leland's intentions.

Sighing to herself, she turned around in Ethan's arms and buried her face into his neck. She felt the reverberations of his pleased hum. There was no use in overthinking things now. They would deal with the repercussions soon enough.

Pressing a gentle kiss against Ethan's neck, she smiled as his eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," she whispered.

"It is when I wake up beside you," he mumbled back, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Careful, that sounds awfully sentimental. Wouldn't want my favourite grumpy old man going soft."

Opening his eyes, he sent Audrey a half-hearted glare. The sight of Ethan Ramsey bathed in soft sunlight and his hair mussed up by her hands made her melt.

God, she could look into his eyes forever.

"I contain multitudes," he replied. "Speaking of which, this sentimental and grumpy old man wants to ask if you had plans today."

"No plans." A smirk curled across Audrey's lips as she swept some loose hairs from his face. "But if you had plans that involve us spending more time together in bed, I wouldn’t object."

"You're insatiable."

"Are you complaining?"

He grinned at her. "Not at all."

Leaning in to kiss her, Audrey's hands slid up from his shoulders into his hair. Giving the strands a short and sharp tug, Ethan groaned and bit her lower lip. Leaving a trail of kisses down the column of her neck, he lightly nibbled the skin, eliciting a soft moan from her.

He pulled the sheets away from her body and continued his path downwards. Audrey bit back another moan. Almost immediately, Ethan stopped around her navel and lifted his gaze to look into her eyes.

"I want to hear you, Rookie. Don't hold back."

As a warm hand cupped one of her breasts, his tongue lathered the other bringing her nipples to stiff peaks. This time, Audrey let the moan escape her mouth as she felt herself growing wetter. Lifting his head to lavish her other breast, he shot her a coy smile.

"Much better," he panted. Pinning her wrists against the mattress with a single hand, he slowly made his way down her body as his other hand caressed her soft skin. Swiping a finger across her folds, he groaned. "God, you're so wet for me."

The lust that filled his eyes as his face rested by the apex of her thighs made her shiver.

"Ethan, please," she whined.

When his tongue finally met her soaking cunt, Audrey let out a shaky gasp and an incoherent mumble that sounded vaguely like his name. Her hands threaded into his hair again as he let go of her wrists. Using a hand, Ethan lifted a leg over his shoulder, allowing his tongue to delve deeper. As he sucked her clit, Audrey felt herself tense up as an orgasm rippled through her body.

Once Audrey's breathing slowed, Ethan gently lowered her leg. Through her hazy vision, she noticed his lips and beard glistened in the morning light.

"Please," Audrey begged. "I need you inside of me."

"Gladly."

Pressing a deep kiss against her, she tasted herself on his lips and confirmed her earlier observation. Thankfully, his boxers had been removed last night and he hadn't bothered with putting them back on. The wetness of her first orgasm allowed the blunt head of his cock to easily slip into her throbbing cunt. Gripping onto his shoulders, Audrey panted as Ethan set a steady rhythm, his cock rubbing against her already sensitive clit. As his pace quickened, his thrusts became rougher and he bottomed out causing Audrey to gasp.

She trembled as another wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Ethan followed moments later and groaned into Audrey's neck, the reverberations of the sound causing a delicious tingle across her skin. The couple lounged in bed a little longer as they caught their breaths. Pressing a gentle kiss across her temple, Ethan cupped her face with his hands.

"I wanted to say something before we got sidetracked..." His gaze was impossibly soft as his thumb swept across her swollen bottom lip. "I'd like to take you out on a date. A proper one."

Audrey couldn't help the smile that blossomed across her face. "Really?"

He nodded. "I want the world to know the gorgeous woman beside me is taken. So, what do you say?"

"Yes," she answered. "I'd love to go on a date with you."

__________________________________

Several hours later, Audrey was back in the apartment she shared with her friends. Ethan had dropped her off in the early afternoon with a promise to pick her up at six for their date.

She was looking through her closet, searching for a particular dress she had in mind. Ethan had been tight-lipped about his plans. He had only stated it would be a black-tie event.

"Ah ha! Finally found you." She pulled the shimmering gold dress from her closet. Looking into the mirror in her room, she held the dress up to her body and smiled.

With an hour until six, Audrey jumped into the shower to freshen up. Once she finished styling her hair and applying some make-up, she slipped into the dress. Arranging the slit over her leg, she slipped into a matching pair of heels, a black shawl and grabbed the purse holding her phone.

She entered the living room to see her friends sitting on the couch arguing about what movie to watch. Sienna came from the kitchen carrying a plate of her homemade cookies and smiled at the sight of her friend dressed up.

"Audrey, you look amazing! Isn't that the dress you wore when we did our Boston bucket list?"

She grinned at the memory of what was supposed to be their last hurrah in the city. "It is, but I thought it'd be nice to wear it again for my date tonight."

"Ramsey asked you out on a date? Tonight?" Jackie asked from her spot on the couch.

Various groans filled the room as Audrey nodded.

"Finally!" Jackie exclaimed. "Everyone, pay up. You each owe me a twenty. "

Bryce sighed, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. "God damn it, Lee. Why couldn't he have waited just one more week before he asked you out?"

"Quit complaining," Aurora said, tossing a kernel of popcorn from the bowl in her lap at Bryce's head. "At least you were close, my guess was way off."

Rafael shook his head as Elijah and Aurora both handed a twenty dollar bill over to Jackie. "How did you get it down to the day?"

Jackie smiled. "I'm a psychic, obviously."

"Hold up... Just how long has this bet about Ethan and I been going on?"

"Since everyone saw you kiss at The Hopeful Hearts Gala," Elijah replied.

"And thanks to you, I'm a hundred dollars richer." Jackie pocketed the small wad of cash and leaned back against the couch.

“Thank you, Sienna,” Audrey sighed as she wrapped the black shawl around her shoulders. “My only true friend for having the decency to not partake in this bet.”

Sienna smiled sheepishly as she placed her plate of cookies on the coffee table. Before sitting down on the couch, she pulled a folded twenty dollar bill from her pocket and handed it over to Jackie.

“I’m sorry, Audrey. Raf was the only one who didn’t bet,” Sienna said. “ Dr. Ramsey and I had an interesting talk on the car ride to…” Sienna’s voice wavered slightly and she trailed off before falling silent.

On the car ride to interrogate Travis Perry about the mystery substance he had released in the hospital.

Audrey immediately crossed the room to hug Sienna. It had been months since the incident had happened, but her best friend was still grieving the loss of Danny. Sienna wrapped her arms around Audrey before she pulled back and hastily rubbed at her eyes.

“I’m okay,” Sienna reassured. “Go and enjoy your date.”

Audrey squeezed her friend’s hand in her own before she let go. “Sienna is forgiven,” Audrey declared to the others. “Thank you, Raf. My true ride-or-die.”

Rafael, who was seated beside Bryce, spoke up. “I didn’t want to make any assumptions about your personal life.”

With the most dramatic stare she could muster, she glared and pointed at the others. “The rest of you. Thin ice.”

Several knocks at the door cut off any reply that followed. Opening the door, she found Ethan standing in the doorway, dressed in his suit. His eyes lit up as he looked up at Audrey.

“You look radiant,” Ethan said.

Audrey felt herself grin. “You’re looking pretty good yourself,” she replied.

“Ready?”

“Definitely.”

“Yo, Lee!” Bryce called from the couch before she could step forward. “Just a heads up, I’m crashing on your bed tonight once movie night runs late since you won’t be using yours.”

“OKAY! We are leaving before I strangle Bryce,” Audrey announced, taking the arm Ethan offered.

Bryce laughed as she shut the door behind them. “Anyone wanna bet if she’s coming home tonight?”

__________________________________

Twenty minutes later, the pair were seated inside an elegant Italian restaurant by the waterfront. Looking out the window, Audrey watched the bright lights of the city refract against the dark surface of the water.

“I’m a city girl, but I don’t think I could live anywhere that isn’t close to the water.”

Ethan raised a brow. “Why is that?”

Audrey glanced at the gentle waves before she turned to face him. “I find it calming. It reminds me that the world is big. Bigger than any problem I might be facing. Whenever I felt stressed, I would take the subway to Manhattan and just sit in Battery Park for hours to watch the boats in the harbour or watch the people pass by.”

“I believe you called it ‘people-watching’?”

Audrey was surprised. “You still remember that conversation at Derry Roasters?”

He nodded. “I do,” he said. He reached across the table and instinctively, she placed a hand in his palm. “You said I was lost. You didn’t even know about Naveen’s condition at the time, but somehow you knew something wasn’t right.”

Unable to resist teasing him, Audrey smirked. “If I remember correctly, you said I was only half-right.”

“I stand by that assessment.” His thumb traced the ridge of her knuckles. “What baffled me was how this infuriatingly stubborn intern with the potential to be an excellent doctor kept on surprising me.”

“Speaking of surprises…” she said. “Why a date? Why now?”

The thoughts about the uncertainty of their relationship that morning came crawling to the forefront of her mind again, but she held them back. The night had only begun and as much as their undefined status worried her, she was determined to start the night on the right foot. If there truly was no future for them, she at least wanted to enjoy the time they spent together.

“Well…”

His response was cut off as a waiter came to stop at their table. “Good evening. Can I start you two off with something to drink?”

“We’re catching a show after, would you like a drink?”

“We are? I guess I’ll just have some water.”

“Two waters, please,” Ethan ordered.

The waiter nodded and laid two menus on the table. “I’ll be back in a moment to take your orders then.”

“A show?” Audrey asked. “I thought we were just getting dinner.”

The genuine enthusiasm on Audrey’s face made Ethan grin. “I promised you a proper date. That entails dinner and a show. And if you’re not too tired, perhaps a walk along the esplanade?”

“I could be persuaded. What’s the show we’re seeing?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Audrey pouted before an idea struck her. Slowly taking the black shawl off her shoulders which revealed the plunging neckline of the dress, she traced a finger down her neck to her collarbone. “Are you sure there’s no way I could convince you to tell me?” As her finger passed her collarbone, she slowed as she began to trail her finger down the exposed skin.

She felt him squeeze the hand that was still wrapped in his. “You are trying to kill me,” he replied as his gaze followed the path she traced. Gently, he lifted the hand in his and pressed a kiss to it. “As tempting as that offer is, I do believe you will appreciate the surprise.”

Sighing, she dropped the hand he wasn’t holding into her lap. “You win this time, Ramsey.”

__________________________________

As they got closer, Audrey could see the bright white marquee of the Opera House in the distance: L’Orfeo.

“The darkness of night,” Ethan translates for her. “It’s also the Italian and Spanish form of the name Orpheus.”

“As in Orpheus and Eurydice?” Audrey asked, immediately delighted.

“The very same.”

“When I had my Roman Mythology phase as a kid, I used to check out the same big book filled with various myths for months on end.” She had spent countless hours admiring the detailed illustrations and committing the words that filled the pages to her memory, carefully tracing every swooping letter with a finger. “It actually starts somewhat similarly to the first show we saw together.”

“Then tonight, I’ll rely on your expertise.” Entering the theatre, the pair made their way to his private box. They were seated for ten minutes before the house lights around them slowly dimmed and the curtain opened. On the stage, a woman dressed in red held a lyre.

“That’s the Spirit of Music. She’s saying through the power of music, she can calm any troubled heart. She introduces Orpheus of Thrace, who has the same ability as well. He’s the son of Apollo, the god of sunlight and music, and the muse Calliope, ” Audrey whispered to Ethan, their hands interlaced. As the opera progressed, Audrey explained the events of the story unfolding before them. The marriage of Orpheus and Eurydice and the tragic death of the young bride by snake bite that shortly followed. Orpheus, driven by his grief, embarking on a treacherous journey to the Underworld to bring back his lost love.

“Moved by his singing, Prosperina asks her husband, Pluto, to let Eurydice return to the living world with Orpheus. He agrees upon the condition that Orpheus has to lead Eurydice out of the Underworld, but he cannot look back to see if she is following. Orpheus begins the journey, confident that he will be reunited with Eurydice the moment they leave the Underworld, but…”

Audrey swallowed past the lump that suddenly formed in her throat.

“But then doubt comes in. He thinks Pluto is envious of his love. Maybe Pluto is tricking him.” As a sudden noise sounds from off-stage, the actor playing Orpheus turned around to face his Eurydice. His face morphed from happiness to regret in a flash as Eurydice smiled back at him sadly. “Orpheus sees Eurydice. She was behind him the whole time. She begins to fade away and Orpheus is forced out of the Underworld alone.

“This final act deviates from the myth. Apollo comes from the heavens and tells him not to fall victim to his anger and grief. He invites Orpheus to join him. Eurydice won’t be there, but beauty like hers can be found in the stars. Orpheus accepts.”

As the chorus gathered on the stage for the finale, Audrey looked away. Staring into the dark sea of audience members, she took a moment to collect her thoughts.

Building up her courage, she turned to the man beside her, but before she could say a word Ethan’s hand slipped out of her grasp. Audrey jumped slightly in her seat as the audience around them started clapping for the performance.

By the time the house lights turned on, she had lost her nerve.

__________________________________

Although autumn was right around the corner, the weather had been lovely for the past week. Despite the lack of chilly weather, Audrey held the black shawl tightly around herself as she and Ethan walked along the Charles River Esplanade.

Her eyes were drawn to the shining lights of a boat further in the distance. Audrey didn’t even notice that her steps had slowed to a stop as Ethan paused to look at her.

“Are you all right?” he asked. “You haven’t said a word since we left the theatre.”

Shaking herself out of a trance, Audrey nodded and laughed, but even she could hear that it was far too hollow sounding. “I’m fine. I must be more tired than I thought.”

“I can drive you back to your apartment, but that doesn’t explain why you’ve been staring at the river for so long.”

She sighed, a wry grin twisting her lips. “I shouldn’t have told you what my tell was.”

Stepping in front of her, Ethan tilted her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I-it’s just…” Audrey had to close her eyes for a moment. One breath in, one breath out. The same blue eyes she had seen that morning— the ones she thought she could spend an eternity staring into—suddenly felt like a tsunami that threatened to swallow her. “Ethan, what are we doing?”

The moment she saw Ethan’s eyebrows furrow and the hurt look cross his face, Audrey groaned internally. Barely a second in and she had already stuck her foot in her own mouth. “I phrased that horribly,” she said. Placing a hand by his clenched jaw, her thumb grazed his cheek until she felt the tension he held there ease. “What I meant was, what are we? These last few weeks have been amazing. I can’t describe the happiness I feel when I wake up in your arms, but I also love those moments we just spend together whether we’re making dinner or just having a quiet night in. I don’t think I need to explain how much I enjoy the physical aspects of our relationship…”

She swallowed a shaky breath. “But if that’s all this relationship is-”

“You know it isn’t.” he immediately replied, placing his warm hand on top of hers.

Audrey shook her head. “Do I?”

“I meant every word I said. I don’t want to hide and I’m done pretending.”

“When I was considering a residency in New York, you didn’t say a word.”

“I didn’t want to influence you. I wanted you to make the best decision for your career.”

“And what would we have done? A long-distance whatever-we-are? You're Ethan Ramsey. You’re a world renowned diagnostician for Christ’s sake. You wouldn’t have any trouble finding another position in Boston,” she huffed.

Looking into her eyes, he said, “It’s simple. I would have gone with you.”

She froze. She was certain she had misheard him. “What?”

“As much as I despise idolatry among physicians,” he said. “I wouldn’t be above using my reputation to get a position in the same city.”

“But your whole life is here in Boston.”

“But you wouldn’t have been here.” Ethan cupped her face in his hands, pressing a gentle kiss against her temple and then to a tear-stained cheek. “I need you, Audrey. I know I’m not the most articulate when it comes to my emotions, but know that you’re important to me.”

The sincerity of his voice caused the tears she had been holding back to fall. Wrapped in his embrace, she let the last of her doubts drift away from the recesses of her heart.

__________________________________

All I've ever known is how to hold my own

But now I wanna hold you, too.

__________________________________

Author's Note: Originally this fic was called "Good as Gold" (also based on song lyrics) and was gonna have more smut content, but I might write that and make it a sequel to this instead. 😏

#open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfiction #oph fanfiction #choices fanfiction #my writing #ethan ramsey x f!mc #audrey lee

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static-fanatic-1 · 4 years ago

Text

Tattooed-Uvogin

(Tattoo Soulmate AU- Where tattoos are shared by soulmates, if a soulmate dies then the other looses their ability to have nen and the tattoo disappears. I love soulmate AU's, they're fun. Also when Uvogin gets the spider tattoo he will be 24.)

(Female Reader)

College is usually portrayed in two ways, absolutely fantastic where breaking into song is the norm, or a horrid experience akin to horny Lovecraftian creatures. In this case the song song type of college is the norm.

Most individuals in college receive a tattoo, whether it be their own or their soulmates. Usually it is a happy occasion when that happens. Most would flaunt their new mark and spit out how much they wanted to meet their soulmate, but (y/n) was an exception.

Junior year, the hope of a new age of adulthood quickly coming up. The twenty-two old started to strip. Why strip? Well because she had decided to wait her junior year to get her athletic credit, and because she wanted to see a tattoo if she were to get one. But the first reason is what people think. Practically tearing off the jacket she wore and tossing it onto a bench, (y/n) jumped at the sudden shrieks and hollers from across the room.

"Lilith! Holy shit look!" Deciding to see what the commotion was about, (y/n) leaned over to watch the event unfold. On her lower back, almost covered by her shoulder length blonde hair, was a beautiful koi tattoo. As if swimming the splash of blue, orange and cream colors contrasted beautifully with her deep skin tone.

"What?! Oh my god show me!" Lilith squealed, pushing away girls to get to the nearest mirror. The brightest smile decorated her pink lips and when she finally saw the new mark on her shoulder, she waved around her hands and jumped with unrivaled joy. "I can't fucking believe it!"

"Do you think he just turned 21? Like today's his birthday or something?" Another girl exclaimed, staring at the inked shin with awe.

"Probably! Most people get them when they turn 21. God I'm so excited! I'm posting this everywhere to see if someone answers."

More girls crowded around Lilith, the light tapping of gentle fingers bringing (y/n) back to her senses. Turning around the female met with her dearest friend. "What?"

"Ms. Venal will snap at us if we aren't ready, best not to get on her bad side again. She might make us do push-ups for a warm up again." The soft voice and her light brown hair and eyes pairing nicely with her shy personality.

"Oh shit you're right." Swiftly (y/n) moved back to the back of the locker room, pulling off her pants at the same time. Replacing them with gym shorts with the school logo she quickly followed by her favorite shirt.

Grabbing the school shirt she jumped when someone grabbed her shoulders from behind. "(Y/n)! Your back!"

Before (y/n) could protest she was pulled to her friends locker with a hand mirror shoved in her face. Hesitantly she grabbed it and moved it around her face, trying to see what Jessy was talking about. Finally, a large dark tattoo revealed itself on her lower back, spider legs and a white eleven in the center.

"Looks like a spider, but with twelve legs? Weird." Jessy replied, lightly tracing the many legs now inked into her friend's skin. "You seem... disappointed? (Y/n) you good?"

(Y/n) shrugged, surprisingly it was underwhelming compared to what she thought it would be like. I mean the weird spider on her back was the key to finding her soulmate right? Yet it still felt like a normal school day. "Kinda underwhelming I guess."

"Hey (y/n), you got one too? I honestly thought you wouldn't get one." The snarky voice of Lilith echoed in the locker room, a new hand placing itself on (y/n)'s shoulder. "A spider, really?"

(Y/n) gritted her teeth, Jessy moving to put on the last of her clothes. "They probably just like spiders, so what?"

"Looks like they don't know how to count, that's sad." Lilith remarked, poking at the inked flesh. "Didn't you get a tattoo not too long ago, what was it again?"

"A (favorite animal)." (Y/n) mumbled grabbing her school shirt and putting it on.

"Wow, classic."

(Y/n) pretty much had enough of this and turned to the blonde with vigor. Placing a figure on the new koi fish tattoo. "Wow, classic cunt."

The blonde scoffed, but was quickly interrupted when the teacher called out. "Girls, hurry up or you all are going to do more push-ups!"

Lilith mumbles underneath her breath, venomous words that didn't pass (y/n). "Go fuck yourself." She had said.

In a last ditch effort to get some satisfaction, the (h/c) haired girl turned to the blonde and smiled. "After you."

Man school was just dandy.

~~~

For some reason the drive home felt longer than usual, the songs uninteresting and slow. But that didn't stop the sigh of relief when entering her home. Maybe telling her parents about the tattoo would bring up her spirits? They always wanted to see what it would end up being.

"Momma! I'm home!" (Y/n) yelled, letting the fact sink in to any occupants.

She walked into the kitchen, grabbed a snack, and paused. Her dad, usually sitting with his back straight and glasses on, now held his lenses with his face in his hand. "Hey dad, you're home early. Everything alright?"

Swiftly his head shot up, (h/c) hair messy unlike usual. "Huh? Oh, yeah yeah I'm fine, just a lot of work is all. We're still trying to find who stole Ruby Red, that jewel is worth a few billion Jenny."

The man's daughter pulled a chair and sat down across from him, opening her snack to start eating it. "I still can't believe someone was able to take it, isn't the security pretty high?"

"Yup, and Ruby Red wasn't the only thing they took. They took a few other gems too." Her mother butted in, placing a kiss upon her husband's cheek. "Whoever did it defiantly had help, you're dad placed too many security guards for it to have been one guy."

(Y/n) furrowed her brows, the fact it was more than one person sans all too surprising, but how did they get past the armed guards in the first place? "So what exactly happened? Like to the guards I mean."

"Well... that's just it. We don't know." The dad rubbed the back of his neck, trying to relieve the tension that had built. "They just vanished... poof, gone. No sign of a struggle, no blood, all of it gone."

The mother removed her hand and pulled up a chair, sitting down and taking a sip of whatever is in her mug. "Yeah, pretty crazy stuff. I've been looking through the cameras and I think they have been tampered with. Whoever took the merchandise wasn't a rookie. They knew what they were doing."

"Who do you guys think did it? The mafia?" The daughter asked, looking at both her parents.

"A new group has been floating around, something called the Phantom Troupe. They are pretty much the worst of the worst." The brunette mother replied, placing her cup down and getting more comfortable.

"Worse than the mafia?" (Y/n) questioned.

"Pretty much, this gang took out the entire Kurta clan just a few months ago. They took their eyes and everything." There was a pause, easily taken up by the gravity of the situation her parents were in.

Her father butted in. "Anyway, anything happened at school? How's Jessy doing, she can come over for dinner tonight too. Martha said she was making lobster claws and steak."

"Ah, well, Jessy's doing fine and I'm sure she'd love to come over again. I'll go ahead and text her." (Y/n) pulled out her phone and did just that, asking if her friend wanted to come over again.

"What else, I feel like your hiding something." Martha asked, leaning closer to her daughter with a sly smile.

Small bits of sweat started to form on her brow, right now didn't exactly seem like a good time to talk about an odd tattoo. "Well I cursed someone out, that was fun."

Her dad groaned and rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh my god was it that Lilith bitch again?"

"Edgar!" Martha snapped, slapping the man on his shoulder and she lightly scolded him. The both of them knew their daughters relationship with that girl. All they had to say is if the coward ever threw a punch, to lay her ass on that ground. (Y/n) was still waiting for her to throw it.

A small ping from a phone ringed, the daughter pulling hers out and slightly smiling. At least when Jessy comes over she would have emotional support over the weird tattoo. "Yeah, it was her again. Anyway, mom do you want any help, Jessy said she would come over."

"Sure, honey. I'd like that."

~~~

The air was tense, sweat slowly forming on (y/n)'s brows as her dearest friend babbled on and on about her early day bravery. "Lilith couldn't say a word to us for the rest of the day! It was hilarious." Jessy boasted, laughing at the sense painted in her head.

Though Martha and Edgar looked at their daughter dumbfounded. "Sooo, is there a reason why you didn't tell us about your new tattoo?" The mother asked, leaning on her elbow with her head in her hand.

"Ah, well you know, it's kinda embarrassing."

"Seriously, you didn't tell them?!"

"I said it's embarrassing!" (Y/n) reinstated, moving her hands in front of her face to attempt stopping the forming blush.

"So! Show us!" Martha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

(Y/n) grumbled a bit and stood up from her chair, lightly pulling up the back of her shirt. On her lower back the sideways spider laid, twelve legs spread out for the world to see.

Silence followed, the air thicker than it once was. "Yeah, it's a little weird. Honestly it was underwhelming getting it." (Y/n) tried to release the growing tension with a light laugh, though it didn't do much.

"Y-Yeah, it is a little weird isn't it?" Edgar had replied, moving to lightly trace his fingers on the inked skin. "Well I don't think most people have twelve-legged spiders on their backs so it shouldn't be too difficult to find out who this guy is."

~~~

Those words meant so much now, after seeing the news talk about Ruby Red's disappearance and how it was linked to a group of mass murderers, the words felt heavy.

Changing to homeschooling was the first thing to happen, as having people see such a dangerous tattoo could endanger your family. Hunters would travel far and wide to catch the soulmate of a Phantom Troupe member, to sell or kill them for the highest price tag. So being around other reckless students was a big no-no.

Next was their home, moving to the outskirts of York New city to start fresh, where no one would know who they were. Getting a new job wasn't too difficult for Martha and Edgar, as security personnel was important everywhere.

Though (y/n) herself wasn't allowed a job, too risky they would say. And Jessy, well at least she was still there. The friend would visit every so often to catch up, and texting each other became an everyday occurrence.

It had been five years since that dinner, and now fear and anxiety ruled over (y/n)'s life. Walking on the streets it seemed every passerby was a possible hunter, just waiting to catch her and slit her throat.

(Y/n) could only trust Jessy and her parents.

The ringing of a phone smacked the female from her train of thoughts, papers she was once working on discarded. Picking up the device and placing it on her ear, a sweet voice rang with an excited undertone. "Yo, (y/n). Whatcha up to?"

A delicate smile pulled at the (h/c) haired lips. "Fine, just doing mom and dads paperwork. Kinda the only job they'll let me have."

There a was a light hearted laugh on the other side of the phone. "Well I'm going to have a few days off of work it you want to meet up and have a few drinks. I'll be coming in sometime tomorrow evening if you want to meet up then?"

"I'd love to, I'll just have to ask mom and dad, you know how they are."

"Yeah, can't blame them though. I mean it's scary."

"Yeah... I'll call you a little later with an answer okay? See you later Jessy, tell me when you get here and I'll pick you up from the airport."

"Alright, sounds good to me! Bye-bye!"

"Bye." Her smile faded when the phone call ended, at least it wouldn't be too bad. Now she just had to get on her knees and beg her parents.

Searching through the apps on the phone she ended up on the calling one, but paused. 'I'll just ask them when they get home, I'll drive over there soon.' Tossing the electronic on her bed (y/n) sighed and leaned back in her seat.

~~~

After plenty of begging and a semi-long drive to the airport, the now ecstatic girls drove around the city to wherever this bar was.

"Okay okay, (y/n), don't get mad at me but I invited a few other friends." Jessy timidly said, scrunching her body as close as possible to her seat.

"Who?" Was all said, making the other girl all the more afraid of an anxious outburst.

"Just a girl I met the bar once, her name is Shizuku. She said she's bringing another friend over, another girl. Don't worry though she's a bit of an airhead, an absolute sweetheart once you get to know her." Jessy relaxed, not noticing any changes with her friend's behavior. "Sorry I wanted to tell you but if you told Edgar and Martha they probably wouldn't have let you go! I just really wanted to hang out with you."

"Don't worry, mom and dad don't have to know." (Y/n) turned and gave a small wink before turning back to the road.

Jessy sighed, relieved to finally have some fun without much worry. "Oh oh! Right here!" The car slowly drove into the parking lot, the two searching for a spot to park. "Oh! They're over there." The two girls exited and quickly made their way to another pair.

The first girl Jessy walked to and hugged had shoulder length black hair and large round glasses. Large, plum doe like eyes gazed at (y/n) with innocent intrigue. Her casual wear consisting of a long black sleeved shirt and black shorts complimented her hourglass body type. She honestly looked adorable.

The other was a blonde clearly taller than her ravenette friend. Calculating eyes, short hair in a bob and a hooked nose gave her a demanding audience. The woman wore a red, low cut baby doll dress that ended on her mid thigh, and black heels making her even taller.

"Okay guys, this is (y/n), she's been my friend ever since middle school." Jessy placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, (y/n) shyly waving and saying hello. "And (y/n) this is Shizuku and her number two, Pakunoda." They too did the same thing.

"Alrighty! Now that we have all the introductions out of the way!" Exclaimed Jessy, grabbing (y/n)'s hand and waving for the other two to follow. "Let's get absolutely trashed!"

Pakunoda snorted and followed, all four of them entering the not-so-much-a-bar-as-it-is-a-club building.

Jessy grabbed a table, putting some of her things down to mark it as her own. "I'll go ahead and get something to get this party started! Anything in particular you guys want?"

Shizuku places a finger on her chin, deep in thought. Pakunoda wrapped an arm around the ravenette and shook her head. "Surprise us."

(Y/n) quickly waved her hands. "Don't get me something strong, I'll be the designated driver." She laughed, Shizuku finally making up her mind.

"Something fruity!"

She did somewhat seem like an airhead.

After plenty of drinks for the four, and pleasant conversation between the girls, Jessy was finally breaking under the alcohol. Her slim build swaying even when she sat in the booth's chair. "Y'all wanna hear a funny story? Or at least its funny to me." She slurred.

Pakunoda, sitting on the outside of the curved booth, leaned in. "Sure." Elbow now on the table and head in her hand. A delicate smile etched onto her lips, her eyes calculating as an extra hand served her drink.

(Y/n) listened to her start talking about Lilith, the old school bully having many stories about her. "I'm going to go to the restroom." She tapped Jessy's shoulders and moved over and out of the conversation.

Shizuku listened carefully to the slurring female, Pakunoda doing the same. Slowly the story became interesting, talking about receiving tattoos and snapping at the girl named Lilith.

But more importantly, a tattoo received on a lower back. (Y/n)'s lower back.

By the time said female returned all had paused, both Shizuku and Pakunoda silent but attentive. Jessy moved over to let her friend back in the booth they had claimed, Pakunoda placing a slender arm across her shoulders. "You have quite the temper don't you?"

Remembering what they had been talking about, the comment didn't surprise (y/n) all that much. "Lilith? Haha, yeah I hated her. She was difficult to deal with, always trying to one up everyone." (Y/n) waved her hand around to dismiss her temper, truly she couldn't stand people like Lilith. "Don't worry I'm much better now." Again she lightly laughed.

"You seem like it, you're so shy. I honestly didn't expect a story like that." Paku replied, leaning in a little closer.

"Which one was it? I've kinda snapped at her a lot."

"The one where ya' finally got yer tattoo~!" Jessy replied, sandwiching the poor girl between the two.

(Y/n)'s entire body went rigid, her breathing slightly labored by her hammering heartbeat. 'No, no, no Jessy couldn't have told that story, she wouldn't. She knows how dangerous it is for me already, telling people would make it worse!'

She would be hunted by hunters and the Phantom Troupe alike if the wrong people were to find out.

Doing her best to relax, her shoulders not so tense anymore. "Ye-Yeah, it's a bit of a strange one but I don't mind it too much. What time is it?"

Shizuku looked at her phone, her mouth wishing to yap about how Uvogin would love the girl. Or how Uvogin is just a call away from finding his soulmate. OR ANYTHING RELATED! But alas, the bone crushing grip placed on her thigh along with straight up saying it earlier, told her to shut it.

Now with a pouting face she checked the time. "It's 12:48."

Mumbling a short 'shit', (y/n) grabbed her purse and stood up. "Sorry! I was supposed to go home an hour ago!" She examined her phone with a pale face, not just from her tattoo being revealed, but the endless messages from her parents. "Does anyone need a ride?"

Jessy leaned in more, her lips ghosting (y/n)'s ear. "I would love to ride."

Pushing her drunk friend off, (y/n) made her way out of the booth, Jessy wrapped in her arms as the girl stumbled. "You two?"

Shizuku lifted her finger, her mouth opening to speak, but was quickly stopped when a hand smacked itself on her lips. "Don't worry about us." Paku replied, waving a dismissive hand.

"Al-alright. Well we'll be off then, take care!" Quickly grabbing her things, and Jessy, the two slipped out of the club.

Shizuku smacked Paku's hand away and pushed up her glasses. "What was that for?!"

Pakunoda shifted out of her seat, looking around at the other inhabitants of the establishment. "You were going to say something about Uvo, weren't you?"

The ravenette pursed her lips and turned away, scooting out of the booth as well. "So what if I was? It wouldn't stop us from getting her anyway." Whined the girl.

"It would have made getting her harder, she's already cautious of everyone." The two girls exited the bar, stopping to watch (y/n)'s car drive away. "Besides it won't be too difficult for Shalnark to find her."

"Didn't you touch her?" Shizuku pushed her glasses up once more, turning to wonder off to home base.

"Of course, she was very anxious the entire time, and she was weary of us from the beginning."

The ravenette hummed, both wondering through the lit up city. Smoke polluted the air of the alleyways they traveled through, the moonlight basking the criminals in an ethereal glow. The alleyway became too quiet, the once light sounds of buzzing insects feasting on the dumpsters silenced.

The girls stopped, looking at the empty sidewalk in front of them. They could sense two individuals, on in front of them and the other behind. Were the stalkers going to try and jump them? Did they know who they are? Well it doesn't matter, the stalkers will be dead soon.

"Well well well," A gruff voice echoed from behind. "Looks like the butterflies flew into the spider's web. How about you two be sweethearts and tell me about that friend of yours? The one with the (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes."

Shizuku turned around to face the man, noting the switch blade open and poised in his hands. "He has a knife, Paku."

The man 'tsk'ed slowly walking closer to the girls. Paku stared straight ahead, the other stalker finally revealing himself, a scrawny man with a baggy shirt and large knife.

Pakunoda sighed and pulled out her revolver, aiming straight between the scrawny man's eyes. "Never bring a knife to a gun fight." A quick pull of the trigger and a loud bang caused the man to fall over, a small hole oozing blood and smoke between his glossy orbs.

Shizuku summoned Blinky and with a quick bonk on his head, the gruff voiced man collapsed to the ground.

"Shizuku, is he dead?"

"I didn't hit him that hard." With a hum and a finger on his neck. "Nope, he's alive."

"Good." She swayed over to the man and placed a hand upon his cheek. A rush of memories and emotions entered her mind, like the ripples in water. "They weren't alone, they called others before following us. We should hurry before they find her first."

"They'll kill her won't they?"

"Probably."

"Uvogin would loose his nen if that happened, hmm, we can't let that happen."

Nothing new happened after their encounter, the dark streets now baron by the late night and the rundown buildings. Turning the corner to enter the hideout, a face revealed itself, young and distressed, their thin black brows furrowed.

No words were exchanged, the girls entering without a care. A sigh left the short man's lips as he walked with them into the church. "Machi had a feeling again. What happened?"

Shizuku hopped her way onto a pile of rubble and sat down with an impassive expression. "We were attacked by some thugs on our way back. Though, it was more like a one-way-massacre."

The entire Troupe was in the broken down office building, there were preparing to infiltrate a museum filled with priceless artifacts, but it might have to be postponed.

Feitan didn't look at Shizuku, already knowing her information may very well be useless. "Paku?"

"Shizuku's friend brought a number two as well, she just so happened to be a soulmate." Pakunoda teased, crossing her arms.

The small group playing cards stopped, even Chrollo averted his eyes from his book of interest. Feitan's brows lifted slightly, probably in surprise.

"Ah! That happened too."

Franklin snorted, placing down his cards and shifting to face Paku. Shalnark, Nodunaga, Machi, Kortopi, Bonolenov, and Franklin were huddled up in a small circle playing cards, though the game was now paused. Uvogin, the secret star of the show, was rooting for Nodu to finally win a game. "Who?"

A delicate smirk etched itself on her features, a slender finger pointing to the bear-like man sitting behind Nobunaga.

With that action taken, the bear-like man grabbed Nobunaga and wrapped his arm around his head. The other hand pulling out the ponytail and messing up his hair as a boisterous laughs echoed throughout the building.

Franklin smacked a hand on Uvogin's shoulder and congratulated them, Nobu yelling for Uvo to let go. Once he finally let him go, the shorter man smacked Uvo.

Uvogin didn't exactly care, all he knew is that his soulmate was found and that she was his next target. "Keep talking Paku." Uvo kindly ordered, curiosity taking hold.

"Well she's pretty cute, (h/l) (h/c) hair, bright (e/c) eyes. She's pretty attentive." Pakunoda waved her hands around, finding a seat on the opposite side of the large room.

Another hearty laugh escaped the bellows of his chest. "Finally! Took her long enough." He exclaimed, clapping and rubbing hands together. "Where is she?"

Pakunoda shrugged. "Her name is (y/n) (l/n), Shal will have to figure that out."

Chrollo hummed, grabbing the attention of the room. "Uvo, once you find out where she lives I want you to get her, it would be a shame if you lost your nen." He paused and placed a bookmark in his spot. "Paku does anyone else know?"

The blonde nodded her head. "Yes, the thugs overheard and called a few of their friends. I don't know how many."

Chrollo hummed once more, leaning in a bit closer to the group. "Once Shal figures out her whereabouts I want you and Nabu to go with Uvo. And be cautious, we don't know how strong the hunters will be."

Uvogin laughed, hands on his hips as he threw his head back. "I will."

"Found her!" Shalnark yelped, a bright smile stretched across his cheeks. "(Y/n) (l/n), lives in the New Found Apartment Complex about three blocks from her parents. Oh! Edgar and Martha (l/n), they work as security managers for the museum we were targeting." Shalnark excitedly exclaimed, waving his phone around in the air. "I'll send you the address, Uvo."

Feitan quirked an eyebrow. "She might know which hunters were hired to protect the exhibit."

Chrollo hummed once more, returning to his book with a calm expression. "That might be the case, if so then there we could be better prepared." The sultry voice of the boss explained further her use, not just for Uvogin but the entire team.

Uvogin cracked his knuckles, waving to Nobunaga and Pakunoda to follow. "Consider it done."

~~~

(Thats it everyone! Sadly Wattpad allows for larger chapters so this will be put into two parts to accomadate.)

#yandere uvogin #uvogin x reader #uvogin #yandere phantom troupe #yandere uvogin x reader #tattooed part one #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh

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julemmaes · 4 years ago

Note

One of the kids and their first crush.

First Crush

A/N: Set in the same universe as this and this (I’m gonna make a masterlist soon I swear), Cal (18) finds himself in a weird situation and doesn’t know how to handle things. I introduced Elucien babies in this one, everyone else will come by later on and very slowly I’m gonna introduce every other child.

If you’re new, this is a next gen collection of one shots, for now only about Nessian kids specifically. In this one, Ezra is 22, Cal is 18 and even tho they don’t appear, Nora is 13, Celia is 12 and Andra is 10. Nate and Theo are 17.

Send prompts about whoever you’d like to read more about and also very slowly I’m gonna give yall every single one of those:)

Enjoy!

Word count: 3,432

Cal brought his hands to his hair, "Oh my god, what's wrong with me?"

Theo, leaning against the car next to him, chuckled, "In my opinion the correct question would be what isn't wrong with me- Ouch." the boy turned to his twin, "Why did you hit me?"

"Because you're being a dick," Nate replied, glaring at him, "Stop talking shit."

"Why did I agree to this?" asked Cal shocked, looking up from the road and shifting his gaze from one cousin to the other. Two pairs of brown eyes locked onto him and then, in a synchronized motion that never failed to make Cal cringe, the twins shrugged.

Theodore and Nathaniel Vanserra were two of the most handsome boys in all of VHS. They both had the natural grace of the Archeron sisters that all cousins in the family shared, but their father's beauty that they had acquired over the years was one that made it easy to hate them with just one look. It was humanly impossible that such beautiful people could exist.

"Because you like her and want to date her, maybe?" asked Nate sarcastically.

Theo threw him a look, "Who's being an asshole now?"

Nate huffed then turned back to Cal, "Listen to me," he took him by the shoulders, getting so close to his face that for a second he was afraid he was going to kiss him, "You've been drooling over Rania for months. Months, Cal. And she finally made the first move because you were too chicken to step up."

"Chicken?" laughed Theo beside them.

Nate closed his eyes taking a deep breath, deciding to ignore his brother, "She asked you out. You accepted. You're going on a date." he shook his head confused, leaning even more towards him, "What's wrong with that?"

Cal looked at him wide-eyed, imagining Rania's crystal eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of going to dinner with him, so different from the rust brown, almost red ones that were staring back at him. "Nothing, it all adds up," then he cleared his throat, "Shouldn't you be home by now?"

"What time is it?" asked Nate taking two steps back. Cal felt the air return to his lungs and he sagged against the door of his car. Well, his and Ezra's car.

Theo cursed checking the time on his phone, "Shit it's almost three."

Nate nearly broke his neck as he lunged to grab his backpack on the ground and then started running in the direction of their house, yelling a simple hello to Cal and for his brother to hurry up. Theo's eyes went wide, snorting with an amused grimace on his face.

Cal huffed out a laugh, "It's not three o'clock is it?"

Theo shook his head, with a lopsided smile too similar to his father's, "Not even close." then turned to his cousin and threw him a flying kiss, starting to walk after Nate. "Call me if you need any advice on what to wear."

Cal gave a thumbs up and then slipped into the car.

It didn't take him more than ten minutes before he arrived home, but once he parked his car next to his mom's, he sighed.

He needed to talk to his dad.

Cassian would certainly know how to handle this situation better than he was doing.

The front door burst open and a distraught Ezra, visibly in a hurry, opened the driver's door, grabbing his brother by the shoulder and pulling him out of the car.

"Ezra!" shrieked Cal with wide eyes, "What the fuck!"

"You're late." the eldest pointed out to him, then tossed him his backpack with a stern look, "Here."

"Sorry." Cal murmured, then pushed his hair out of his face, "I got stuck with Theo and Nate, I didn't notice the time."

Ezra stopped the frantic movements, looking at him worriedly all of a sudden, "Are you okay?"

Cal nodded, licking his lower lip, "Just Raina."

"Oh." murmured Ezra, "We can talk about her tonight when I get back if you want." he smiled at him, then seemed to remember that he was running late and Cal didn't have time to correct him and tell him that the problem was the exact opposite of what he thought that Ezra was already backing up.

The silence that greeted him in the house was unsettling.

"Hello?" he asked loudly enough for anyone to hear.

"In the kitchen!"

Cal smiled and kicked off his shoes before following the smell of lunch.

"Hi Mom."

Nesta was perched on one of the island stools as she munched on a cereal bar. "Hi dear." she looked up from her book to smile at her son, but turned serious, "What happened?"

Cal dropped his head back, huffing, "Am I a fucking open book?"

Nesta frowned, "No swearing."

"I don't see Andra here." he glanced around him opening his arms.

"I don't care, I don't want you to say them." and before he could retort, "And in this case you could have just as easily said I'm an open book without the need to shove fucking in it." she pointed out to him.

Cal nodded, knowing full well how pointless it was to engage in this conversation again. He pointed to the table set just for him, "You're not eating?" then arched an eyebrow, "Where is everyone?"

"I ate with Nora and Celia and then took them to practice. Andra is at school like she is every Wednesday." she got up too and sat down across from him at the table, closing her book and resting her chin on one hand, she asked, "So, what do you have?"

Cal took a bite, "Dad?" he asked with a full mouth, avoiding his mom's gaze.

"At work." then she huffed, "You failed a test?" guessed the woman.

Cal laughed, "Like that's even possible."

"Did you get in a fight with Theo and Nate?"

"I don't think that's possible either," he replied in a small voice.

"Cal," his mother's hand rested on his. He was forced to look at her and sighed, seeing the concern in Nesta's eyes, "Are you okay?"

He nodded. Evidently with not enough conviction because the woman in front of him bit her lip down thoughtfully.

"If you want I can call Dad and ask him to come home early," she offered, "If you want to talk to him, I mean," then continued, "You know he'd be here in three seconds."

Cal nodded again, knowing full well that his father would rush home even risking an accident if he knew one of his children was feeling down. Setting his fork down next to his plate he brought his hands to his face. He hated his mother when she did that.

He looked her straight in the eye as he told her so.

Nesta looked even more concerned, "I'm sorry," she told him, probably feeling guilty for pushing him too hard to talk, "if you want I'll leave."

"Nono," the boy replied promptly, then grimaced, closing his eyes. He grunted before muttering, "Raina asked me out."

He doubted his mother knew who he was talking about, but it didn't take a genius to figure out it was the girl he liked.

The room filled with an awkward silence.

"Ah." was Nesta's only response.

Cal resumed eating, his head down, "And I don't know what to do."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never really liked anyone before," he said, "and Raina is...she's special."

He smiled, thinking of the billions of braids she so proudly wore every day in a different hairstyle.

"Did you say no?" asked Nesta. Cal felt her curiosity even without the need to look at her.

He shook his head, "I said yes," he confessed, "but I need dad to tell me how to act. I don't have a clue what to do. Where to take her, how to dress, whether I should text her first. All that shit there- sorry." he smiled mischievously when Nesta bounced him again and hoped he'd taken her mind off the real problem.

"And how come," she began, "I can't be the one helping you?"

Cal looked at her at that point, "Because you're not a people person." he pointed out, "Dad managed to win your heart, it won't be that hard for him to give me advice on how to win Raina's." he took a sip of water, "When I think about it, dad and Raina have a very similar personality. " he shrugged, "So he can tell me what he likes and I can do it for her." he nodded as if he had discovered the Holy Grail, but that sly grimace disappeared from his face when he saw his mother's expression.

She sighed, her eyebrows so high they almost touched her hairline, "Dear, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said in your entire life." she told him in amazement.

Cal opened his mouth wide, offended, "Mom-"

Nesta raised a hand to stop him, "Let me talk."

He nodded once.

"First, answer these simple questions," she began, "What were you going to do about it this afternoon?"

"Ask her if she was okay with Friday night to go out." he said without hesitation.

"Good." she smiled at him for half a second, quickly becoming serious again, "And where would you like to take her?"

Cal tilted his head to the side, not understanding where this was going, "Why are you-"

"Just answer."

"I was thinking of taking her to the diner, to Ben's," he replied, unsure of his choice, as a faint blush made its way across his cheeks.

"Perfect." she gave him the thumbs up, "And since it's a diner, you'll just need to wear simple jeans and a t-shirt, or am I wrong? Nothing too fancy or flamboyant."

The boy huffed, irritated that his mother was giving him all logical answers to his senseless and fake concerns. "Okay, and your point?" he asked, scratching his forehead.

Nesta smiled at that, "My point is that these aren't your real problems and you're scared of all kinds of other stuff."

"I really don't like talking to you about this stuff." he muttered, folding his arms across his chest. They both knew that wasn't entirely true. They both knew that if either of them were really uncomfortable, they wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise.

"Yeah I didn't either." scoffed his mother, "But I would have liked someone to tell me that it was normal for me to feel all those emotions the first time I met your father."

Cal frowned.

"You don't have a problem with setting up a fancy date," she told him, "I raised you teaching you what respect and kindness is and if I failed, then dad took care of it. Because both you and your brother are golden boys and you'll never have to worry about not being offering enough." Nesta looked away, "But while your brother can... handle?" she asked no one in particular, searching for the right term, "His emotions relatively well, you're like me." then she giggled and Cal knew they were navigating waters his mother didn't particularly like to touch, "And I'm a mess when figuring out how I feel."

Cal knew what she meant, so he nodded.

She was right.

Talking to the twins about what was really bothering him had never even been an option. The idea of having to tell them how much he actually liked Raina had been more terrifying than the emotions themselves. He knew they wouldn't understand and would wait until it was socially acceptable for him to tell Raina directly how he felt without scaring her off.

"How about you finish eating and then we'll go for a walk along the river?" his mom suggested, "Or do you have to study?"

Cal shook his head, smiling shyly at her, "I'll finish eating and we'll go." then he took to gorging himself.

Nesta chuckled as she went to get ready to go out.

***

"When Dad asked me out the second time, right after our first date, I said no," Nesta said, looking across the river to the other side, where a couple of older poeple were walking slowly arm in arm.

They had paced for a half hour, in which Cal had told her about how they had met in the coffee shop in front of the school almost four months earlier and how she had offered him hot chocolate. How they had spent a whole day talking about everything and nothing, and how they now had an ongoing obligation to meet at least once a week in the same cafeteria, even though they ate at the same table every day with all their other friends.

Nesta had asked to see a picture of her, and Cal had been surprised to find out that he wanted his mother to like Raina more than anything else at that moment. Luckily, Nesta had been speechless and commented on the girl's silvery eyes, blinking a couple of times before giving him the phone back and commenting with a simple, "She's beautiful."

Now, sitting on a bench along the bank of the Sidra, Nesta was telling him about the days when Cassian had had to struggle to make her his.

"How come?" he asked genuinely curious.

Nesta smiled, lowering her gaze to the wedding band around her ring finger, "Because I liked the first date too much."

Cal furrowed his brow, "Were you afraid the second one wouldn't measure up?"

"No," she murmured, casting him a glance, "I knew perfectly well it would be better than the first."

"So why did you say no?" the boy asked impatiently.

"I knew that the second one would be better than the first one and that the third one would be better than the second one and so on and I was already so overwhelmed with my feelings that I was afraid it might become too much." she explained, "Your father was the first one to get close after so many years of me having my bad friendships and relationships." she frowned.

"If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to," he made a point of reminding her. He wanted to be helped and would have liked to know more about his parents' lives before them, but he didn't want his mother to feel compelled to share things with him that still bothered her.

Nesta squeezed his hand lovingly, "Don't worry, those things are in the past and I have nothing to be ashamed of." she smiled at him, "I was with someone else before your dad and that man kinda ruined my life. I thought I would never be able to trust anyone in the future again. That I would never again feel the love and affection I had felt for him." she huffed out a laugh. She brought both hands to her lap and Cal shoved them into his pocket. "Then your father came along and it was all so sudden and I fell in love right away, hard. Completely lost for a boy I barely knew. And it scared the hell out of me."

"Why?" Cal already knew the answer, it was what he felt every time he saw Raina walking down the halls of the school. Every time she bit into a piece of bread in the lunch room and then made a disgusted face at how awful the food tasted.

"Because I could only imagine how much it would hurt if it ended suddenly. If I felt everything so strong in the good, it would be just as strong in the bad, you know?" she turned to him, more serious than ever.

Cal just nodded.

"Your father was hurt by it," she confessed. She began to play with her wedding ring, "He was so hurt, god." she giggled, probably thinking about the night she had rejected him, "He stood in silence for minutes on the front porch of my house gasping, thinking about all the possible things he had done wrong during dinner and the aftermath and we looked at each other and looked at each other until he asked me why and I couldn't tell him. He wouldn't have understood. Or he would have thought I was crazy."

The boy chuckled as he stared out at the glistening water under Velaris' winter sun, imagining his parents as kids, dressed up for a date. "How come you finally agreed to it?" he asked, later specifying, "To go on a second date I mean."

Nesta seemed to ponder how to phrase it, "Because I loved him."

Cal gave her time to process the words. If it was even half as difficult for her as it was for him, he needed to let her speak for herself.

"Because I realized that such a strong emotion, even if it was sudden and all at once, could only be a good thing. That even if it ended badly, I would have the memory of those happy, carefree moments." she nodded thoughtlessly. "I realized that something like that had to be reciprocal. A connection with a person like I had never felt before, not even with Tomas - who I believed to be the love of my life for years."

"I'm glad he wasn't," Cal murmured, chuckling.

Nesta gave him a light shrug, "Me too." then continued. "I knew your father wouldn't give up on me as easily as I was giving up on him. So after the thousandth time he asked me why I couldn't go out with him, I agreed and every time, every damn time, my heart gave out a little more.

"And I got to a point where I had nothing left to give, because he had everything about me. And I was okay with that. I was risking losing myself in what could easily have been a summer fling, but I knew it was worth it.

"Thankfully, it wasn't. Thankfully I trusted my feelings and kept fighting for what I wanted and even though sometimes your dad and I hit bumps along the way, it's still worth it. Every day."

Cal was watching her carefully.

Nesta often told her children that she loved them. He had heard her say I love you to their father many times, but never, never had he heard her speak in that open way, that vulnerable. She must have realized it too, because she took a deep breath, as if she had forgotten to breathe until that moment. Then she turned to him and put a hand on his face. Cal leaned into that touch.

"I just want you to know that you're not alone. That I feel that way too, right away. And I can assure you that if Raina is the right person for you, then she'll understand that too. Maybe it won't be the same for her, maybe it will take her longer to get to where you think you are now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you the same way." her eyes grew watery. "And never, ever be afraid that you're giving too much. There's no such thing as too much when it comes to love. Not in these cases."

Cal nodded, not sure he would be able to speak if he tried, but he knew his mother could see the gratitude in his eyes.

He couldn't imagine how his father must have felt when Nesta had confessed his true feelings to him. Cal was sure that the love she reserved for her children was different from the love she reserved for her husband, but certainly not weaker, not in smaller amounts. Just different.

"I know it's scary dear, but trust me when I tell you that feeling emotions so hard will bring you the best memories you'll ever make," she finally whispered.

Cal cleared his throat, not quite sure whether to be calmer or more agitated than before, but he said anyway, "Thanks mom."

Nesta turned to the snow-capped mountains that were visible above the town, "No problem."

They stood watching the river sparkle for too many minutes, but when they got up, Cal hugged his mother so tightly that Nesta was stunned.

They were used to exchanging kisses and hugs in their family, but she felt this was different.

She wrapped her arms around her son, despite the fact that he was much taller than her, and they rocked each other as the boy tried to bring order to the mess that was his head.

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petersasteria · 3 years ago

Text

Michael Jackson (III) - Haz Osterfield

Osterfield || Main || Taglist

Requested? Nah.

1,497 words

Based on Michael Jackson quotes. The one in bold is the quote.

RIP Michael 🤍

* * * *

“I honestly don't know why I agreed to do this.” You chuckled awkwardly as you sat across from Harrison. You haven’t seen him in a while, actually. Sure, you’ve known about his success, but you haven’t seen him in nearly four years. You really didn’t expect to be making a video with him during CoVID season. Safety precautions were taken, of course.

He gave you a small smile and you waved at him. Harry decided to create a small series on his YouTube channel called “Things I Never Asked You” and you and Harrison were the stars of his first episode. Harry lied to you and said that he wanted you to star in a short film and you felt betrayed when you got there. Harrison knew about the project and he was the one who suggested that you and him could do the first episode.

You didn't have the heart to say no to Harry because you knew he worked hard. It was only fair to be a team player and do your part. That's why you're here now.

When you arrived, Harry made you and Harrison go into separate rooms and write down questions you never got to ask on index cards. So when you sat down, you had your index cards on your lap as he was reading his.

“Ready?” Harry asked from behind the camera and both of you gave him a thumbs up. Tom was also there, watching.

Harry signalled that the camera was rolling and both of you introduced yourselves and said the name of the series.

“Who’ll go first?” You asked with a shy chuckle. “I know nothing.”

“I’ll go first.” Harrison volunteered and you nodded. Your hands were sweating and your heart was beating fast. You were really nervous.

“I’ll start off easy, don’t worry.” Harrison chuckled. “How’s life?”

You smiled, “Life is great, actually. I’ve been writing songs and I’m writing a picture book for children which is one of my dreams and I’m really glad it’s happening.”

“I’m happy for you.” He said genuinely and you said a small ‘thank you’. You looked at him and said, “My turn: how’s your love life?”

“My love life is great! She’s amazing and she’s sweet.” He answered and you nodded. “I know you well enough to know that there’s a follow up question.” He chuckled lightly and you smiled.

“You’re right, Osterfield.” You said softly with a small smile. “Follow up question: Is she the one you’ve been looking for?”

You stared at each other for a while knowing that, that was his reason for breaking up with you. He said that he realized you weren’t the one he’s been looking for. You just wanted to ask him if he finally found it.

He nodded, “Yes, I think so. We haven’t been together that long, but I can see our relationship progressing.”

You didn’t say anything else. He cleared his throat, “How do you feel whenever you see my face on social media knowing that we had history together?”

“Oof, wow. Um, I’m happy because I’m proud of you. I’m immensely proud of you. But at the same time, I’m also really sad because I end up reminiscing.” You told him.

“And because I got to ask two questions a while ago, you can ask another one.” You added. “It’s only fair.”

“Alright. Have you been able to move on properly?” He asked and you didn’t trust your voice to speak. You just shook your head and he nodded. That was enough for him.

“Did you ever miss me after our breakup?” You asked.

“I did. We were together for a long time and I can’t really forget about you after being with you for so long. But as days went by, I didn’t miss you anymore. You were just a memory, a good memory.” He said in honesty.

“I’m the one who’s heartbroken because of all these questions.” Tom whispered to Harry.

“Same.” Harry whispered back.

“Did you ever write a song about me?” Harrison asked and you nodded.

“My first album is all for you and so is my second album. All my past albums are all about you. The songs in each album are my love letters to you. The last album I wrote about you is my breakup album.” You told him.

“Yeah, I know that album. That album’s design had ‘us’ written all over it. I love the songs, though.” Harrison said.

“Thank you.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Did you ever really love me?”

“How could you ask me that question? Of course, I loved you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

“You loved me, but you didn't love me enough to work it out. Okay, so when did you decide that I wasn’t enough?” Tears were threatening to stream down your face as you desperately tried not to cry.

“Y/N-” He said sadly, but you were waiting for him to answer. “I guess I just didn’t feel it anymore. It’s like everything that happened between us was a dream and then I finally woke up. I woke up and realized that you weren’t meant for me.”

You nodded and sighed.

“Am I the reason why you’re not seeing anyone?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said, your voice cracking.

“Am I the reason why you’re crying?” He asked again.

“Yeah.” You sniffed. “Was there something wrong with me that made you leave?”

“No. You’re fine just as you are. Don’t change for anyone, alright?” He said and you nodded, crying.

“We made it work, right? At some point?” You asked and he nodded.

“We did.” He nodded. It was silent between the two of you before he said, “You know that I’ve always wanted you to be happy. Are you happy?”

You stared at him and bit your lip to keep yourself from sobbing. You shook your head and said, "I'm not, but I will be at some point. That point isn't now."

"Did you meet her when we were together? If so, is that why you really left?" You couldn't help, but ask. "When you said your last 'I love you' to me, did you mean it?"

"Yes, I met her when we were together. That's not the rea— I guess that's part of why I left. And," He looked at you with sad eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it anymore."

The whole point was to take turns in answering questions back and forth, but you wanted so many questions answered that you just kept going. Harrison let you, though. He broke your heart and you deserved to be heard.

"Then why did you keep telling me you love me, when you liked someone else?" You asked sadly.

"I don't know. I'm sorry." Harrison sighed as he looked at you. It was then that he realized that he broke you. "If it makes you feel better, we didn't get together quickly. In fact, we got together a few months ago."

You gave him a look and so did Harry and Tom from behind the camera. It sounded insensitive and Harrison mouthed 'sorry' and you wiped your tears.

"What will I do to make you forgive me?" He asked.

You thought about it for a while and said, "Whatever you do won't benefit me anymore. I guess just— just love her the way you didn't love me. Give her all the love you failed to give me and make sure you mean every 'I love you'. I'll be the happiest."

Harrison gave you a small smile. He admired that you still wished the best for him despite the fact that he left you out in the cold.

"I know that giving all my love to her will make you the happiest, but what will make you happy again? The permanent kind of happiness."

"When I finally get over you and when I meet someone who isn't you; someone better than you." You answered and he nodded.

"That's all I have to ask. Thank you for doing this, Y/N." Harrison said softly.

"You're welcome. Thank you too." You gave him a tight-lipped smile as you wiped the tears on your cheeks.

Harry decided it was time to end it, so he did. He can just make up an outro when he edits. "That's a wrap." Harry said.

You turned to him and nodded. You got up from your seat and removed the mic from yourself before giving it to Harry. "Thank you for having me." You shook his hand and waved at Tom.

You left the place and never looked back. It hurt too much.

A month later, you got a bouquet of flowers on your birthday and a basket of cookies. It was from Harrison and it had a note that said:

Hi, Y/N! Happy Birthday!

I would never forget your special day. Consider this a peace offering and I truly am sorry. Have fun today. You deserve it x

-Haz

* * * *

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐀𝐙 𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @blueleatherbag @cocoamoonmalfoy @thatforgottenangel @parkerpeter24 @turtoix @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hotforharrison @chewymoustachio @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @yourstrulyamour @pearce14 @juliediggory @lharrietg @thevelvetseries @buckymylove @moonlight-onyx @angelsgrxzer @more-like-reyna @caitsymichelle13 @aayaissaa @wannabemobwife @sunwardsss @hollandbroz-n-haz

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @holland-styles @trustfundparker @alinastarkrovs @felicityparkers @hufflepuffprincess24 @tommysparker @justasmisunderstoodasloki @quaksonhehe @call-me-baby-gir1 @itstaskeen @theonly1outof-a-billion @lost-in-the-stars03 @justafangirlduh @piscesparker @speedymaximoff @miraclesoflove @lexirv @blairscott @getbywithasmile @pqrkerr @lavender-writer @blackbat2020 @hoodpankow @bi-lmg @emmastarz @moonchild-s-blog @itszulli

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield one shots #haz osterfield #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x y/n #haz osterfield one shots #petersasteria #k says merci beauqueue

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effymaybe · 4 years ago

Note

hello, author! deathbyjenlisa on wattpad has this prompt: future post-disbandment au where they live in a tiny little apartment in the middle of nowhere in Paris together with their cats and dogs, and they own like a flower shop or something. and finally, FINALLY doing a vlive together where they announce their relationship to the world. (may we have this piece from u? u r one of the best rpf writers i know. thank u in advance!)

deathbyjenlisa on wattpad I love you and I’m SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I KNOW SUCK also here it goes!

Warnings: Fluffy fluffity fluff

Jennie closes her eyes as the faint afternoon sun caresses her glowing skin throughout the window.

She breathes slowly, content. Inside the just-conveniently-sized apartment, the atmosphere is still nice and warm despite the first bites of winter cooling down the air of the city.

The brunette is enjoying of a pleasant break after a few hours of frankly successful designing, and her previous artistic buzz has left place to a nice, tickly feeling still twitching in the pad of her fingers.

She sighs just as a fluffy warmth gazes against her legs earnestly.

“Hello, Lily. Miss mommy already?”

The cat looks up at her almost as if in agreement. Jennie leans down to pet her behind her ears, just as she likes it the most.

“I miss her, too. Maybe Jisoo is right. We might be a little bit needy”.

Lily keeps purring under Jennie’s soft hand, clearly happy with the attention she is given. The brunette smiles to herself. She figures that the kitten would actually hesitate if she had to choose between her two moms.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to.

“Okay, baby. Let’s get you an afternoon treat, yeah? Don’t tell the others”.

Lily’s silent vow of trust is pointless, really. As soon as Jennie shakes the so-secret pack of treats hidden at the very bottom of the kitchen counter, the whole feline family plus an equally excited Kuma enter the room with bright eyes and a grumbling stomach.

The brunette is unfazed. She’s been dealing with this routine for almost three years already, and despite she likes to complain to her girlfriend about her unmeasured need for adopting cats, she wouldn’t change the daily, often overcrowded cuddles for anything in the word.

“There”, she mumbles, filling her pets’ plates with practiced patience, “so that you know that I can be the cool mom, too”.

She stands straight again, glancing at the different furs engaging in their eating. A giddy feeling starts to bloom in her heart suddenly, a sense of happiness mixed with a now unfamiliar pang of uncertainty that weakens her limbs.

They are definitely taking a gigantic step today.

A very much needed, absolutely wanted step.

She runs her fingers through her rich chocolate hair, glancing around with a critical, designer eye as she moves to the living room. It’s small, really, like the rest of the place, but so fantastically decorated –according to a proud Lisa staring at a flattered but shy Jennie- that it often features a big bunch of house décor Instagram accounts.

The brunette puts her hands on her hips.

It’s beautiful. She loves her house. She loves the size, the shape, the colors, the fact that she can have a modest yet quite impressive sight of the Eiffel tower only by opening the French door to the balcony. She loves the city, the accent, the passion. She loves the people, who have taken her and her family wholeheartedly, without questions. She loves her sons and her daughter and she loves, loves, loves her girlfriend with every beat buzzing in her chest.

What she does not love so much right now are those yellowish pillows, that-

“Hello, love”.

An instant smile plasters itself in Jennie’s expression. Steady arms circle her waist tenderly, and plump lips kiss the column of her neck in a tender motion.

“Mmm, hi”.

God, she really behaves like a teenager whenever her girlfriend is around.

“Brought you flowers, baby”, she hears against her ear, and just then she glances down to catch the sight of daisies and red tulips contrasting against each other in a big, gorgeous bouquet.

“Thank you”, she mumbles back, taking the gift with pointed care, “but you are going to empty our shop if you keep taking flowers”.

Lisa chuckles lowly, pure affection dancing in her eyes.

“You know I always order extra just for you”.

The tallest girl lets her girlfriend spin around in her arms. Her expression softens even further at the sight of sharp, stunning features. Lisa’s right hand naturally drifts up to grasp Jennie’s nape in an unconscious attempt to keep her close.

It’s not that Jennie would like to leave, anyway. The shortest girl leans up, gleeful, and her girlfriend meets her in the middle to wrap her up in a soft, welcoming kiss. They spend a few delightful seconds just like that, enjoying each other. It’s unlikely, Jennie thinks sometimes, to adore someone with such strength month after month, year after year. And their love has changed, actually.

It has gotten better. Stronger.

So it’s time to take the next big step.

“I’m ready”, Jennie murmurs against Lisa’s lips, and feels a smile shaping against her own mouth.

“Okay”. The tallest brunette takes a step back to take in her girlfriend’s figure, feeling a soft warmth spreading in her chest. “You look amazing. I love the shirt. It’s a pity they’ll only get to see a half of you”.

Jennie chuckles a breathless thank you, pulling fully away from her lover to look for a standee where to place her phone. In the meantime, Lisa takes her time to greet the rest of her wide family, already full and half-asleep on their respective beds. When she comes back to the living room, her girlfriend is already sitting cross-legged on the wide, greyish couch, figuring out the best angle to gather the afternoon light. On top of the coffee table lies the bouquet she got from the small flower shop they decided to put up mainly as a hobby after their successful careers as Blackpink members.

Lisa can’t help the grin that stretches across her face.

She’s just so, so happy.

“Baby”, she murmurs, moving slowly to sit beside the brunette.

Jennie looks at her and tilts her head in a sign of attention.

“I love you so much”.

Lisa’s unprompted sincerity is rewarded with a gummy smile and a soft peck.

“I love you, too, beautiful”.

A message travels across their joined gazes. A renewed vow of loyalty, love, and support. It’s their way to letting each other know that they are ready, no stepping back. The time and their own effort have prompted the building of a bond that lasts beyond obstacles, beyond fear.

When Jennie presses the screen to start the live, they are both leaning comfortably against each other.

“Hi”, the shortest brunette mumbles after a few seconds. Against her skin, the soft vibration of Lisa’s muffled laughter makes her blush in a rush of shy joy. “This is Jennie”.

The tallest girl grins at her girlfriend’s soft tone. “And Lisa”, she adds cheerfully. “We are here… to talk…”

Jennie’s right hand moves unconsciously to caress her lover’s arm up and down, just as she does each time a bitter hint of anxiety threatens to deprive her from fresh air. In exchange, as a caring reflex, Lisa embraces her narrow shoulders with her arm, keeping the brunette’s body flushed against her own.

“…to talk about us… We’ve seen some theories on the internet since… well, even before Blackpink stopped making… official music”, Jennie adds, eyeing the rising number of viewers at the corner of the screen.

It’s amazing. It’s been years already, and their fans are as many and as supportive as they were before.

“By the way, we might have a surprise coming soon!”, Lisa intervenes, and watches with silent amusement as her girlfriend crunches her nose just slightly besides her.

“Lili, no spoilers!”, Jennie complains only half-heartedly, melting inwards as the tallest brunette pouts just slightly.

“Mmh, sorry, babe”, she hears against her ear then, and all her fake annoyance disappears as soon as it started.

She turns around, keeping up with her admonishing from just to see her girlfriend pouting deeper, and her wish is immediately granted. They look at each other for a moment, their expressions turning into soft, dizzy smiles dripping pure adoration, and it takes both of them a moment to realize that there are about a million people watching them interact at the moment.

“So, huh, us!”, Jennie states, turning towards the camera once again. “Us… so… where do we even start”, she giggles, somehow lost. There is so much to tell. So many tears, so many victories.

“Well… to answer the basics… yes, we are girlfriends”, Lisa speaks then, loud and clear, smiling brightly, almost as if illuminated by her own love.

Jennie feels a burst of pride striking against her heart. She knows that her lover is being so, so brave.

“Girlfriends”, the shortest brunette affirms, and her sharp stare meets Lisa’s open doe eyes. “As in dating, hand-holding, kissing girlfriends, not the best-friends-forever type”.

The tallest girl chuckles brightly, both because rambling Jennie is funny and adorable and also because the tension of the moment makes her chest feel tickly.

Well, it’s there now.

The world knows that Jennie is her girlfriend.

The sudden, pleasing thought of their truth being outwardly spoken makes her feel lighter, elevated as she stares at Jennie with an expression that even herself knows that screams whipped.

It doesn’t matter, really, because her lover’s eyes distillates a feeling of the same fashion.

They tear their gazes apart from each other only when the enrapturing sensation starts to die down in a soft giddiness. They glance at the appearing messages almost with fear, but sunned smiles bright up their features when they read –mostly- comments both congratulating them and asking a billion questions about their relationship.

“’Oh my god this is so shocking… who would say that two rich, adult women choosing to live together raising each other’s’ pets would be dating!’. Well, thanks for the sarcasm, Lisa’shoe… also, careful with that username”, Jennie murmurs. She rolls her eyes in feign annoyance, but her dopey grin stays in place. At her side, still embracing her shoulders in a protective side-hug, Lisa chuckles again, so visibly content, shining, that the shortest girl has to make an effort not to stare at her throughout the mirrored screen.

“Oh, ‘when did you start dating?’ I don’t think we can say exactly when, but...” Jennie begins, her eyes falling on her girlfriend as if searching for help.

“Some years after all the… shipping started, actually. It took us some time…”

“It took you some time if I remember correctly...”, Jennie plays, her sharp expression both softening and growing more electric.

Lisa smiles, all teeth and happiness, and gives in the need of squeezing her girlfriend against her just a little bit tighter.

“But I’ve always liked you! You know it!”, she complains, a slight whine tangling in her voice.

“Of course! I’m amazing!”, Jennie bites back, brushing her long hair past her shoulders in a mocking gesture.

“You are”, Lisa murmurs, staring deep into chocolate without a care in the world, and the sincerity in her words makes Jennie’s pulse speed up crazily.

She leans in for a soft, quick peck, unable to stop herself, and is greeted by such an elated expression when she pulls away that she has to kiss her girlfriend once more, just to steady her soaring heart.

She’s so, so ridiculously in love.

“Charmer”, she mumbles, blushing deeply, and turns around to read another thousands of totally-freaking-out-because-of-their-cuteness messages. “Thank you guys. Really. This truly means a lot for us... The girls know, of course”, she chuckles, “They knew before us, probably. Yes, we are working on something. Nope, no spoilers!”, she winks.

Lisa reads the comments as well, absent-mindedly tangling her long fingers in her girlfriend’s soft chocolate locks, perfectly warm in the familiarity of their home.

“Yes, we are still in Paris. We love it here. The flower business is going well”, she grins, “Yes, I am the best girlfriend ever, right, babe?”

Jennie raises a single eyebrow, but gives in anyways.

“Maybe. You are the only one I’ve ever had”, she teases, gifting her girlfriend a slight shrug.

“And the only you will have!”, Lisa answers back, a playful growl playing with her deep voice in a way that makes Jennie’s stomach tingle in a quite particular way.

“Likewise, Manoban. Ah, yes, our parents know. Lisa’s parents were supportive since day one. My mom… well, it took her some time. Now she calls her whenever she needs anything. Can you believe it?”

They continue the late afternoon like that, leaning against the comfort of each other, answering some of the million questions people over the world have about their relationship.

They knew it will be like that. The sheer support, however, left them truly stunned. They were told so many times that what they were doing was wrong, immoral, dangerous, that the almost absolute acceptance of the people that surrounds them hit them like a soft, fluffy pillow in a dizzy night.

When Jennie finally turns off the live –promising to make another one soon, and yes, to give away more details, and maybe to talk about the possibility of a wedding-, the hint of the pale moonlight is already creeping past their open windows.

Jennie and Lisa stare at each other with twinning grins playing in their lips.

“So, we just did that”, the brunette mumbles.

The apartment is almost silent. Their pets are still sleeping. Only the faint sound of the never-asleep city tangles with the mute electricity of the aftermath of their bravery.

Lisa’s bright eyes darken suddenly, urged by a rush of passionate love.

“We did that. And it went really, really well”.

Jennie smiles openly, her gums nicely on display. The tallest girl feels her heart growing three sizes against her chest. Her hands lock on her girlfriend’s waist, tugging, begging her to find a way to be even closer to her body, downing in affection.

The shortest girl does not disappoint. She moves to sit down on her lap.

“Baby, we did it”, she murmurs again, in a happy awe.

Lisa starts to giggle, and the soft sounds are mirrored by her lover.

“You were incredible”, she mumbles, then, locking her stare with her girlfriend’s once again. A strong feeling, an unspoken declaration moves through them, sparkling. With the corner of her eyes, unfocused as she favors the marvelous sight of her girlfriend’s face, Lisa can see the lights of their phones going off –probably some messages from their friends and family- but the girls stay put in their delightful bubble, nevertheless.

“So did you, love. Can you believe it?”, Jennie begins, letting her feelings pour out, both soft and heavy in her words, “Now they know that you are mine and I’m yours.”

Lisa swoons.

That’s something they’ve talked about. The need to be with each other freely, to shout out their hidden love at the top of their lungs, proud, shattering.

Lisa leans up for a deep, toe-curling kiss. When Jennie pulls out to draw in a happy breath, the tallest girl turns both their phones off.

The rest of their lives can wait. Right then, however, Jennie and Lisa are set to celebrate their thorough love in the way they like it the most.

#jenlisa #jenlisa scenarios #blackpink scenarios #blackpink fanfic

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3mmafr0st · 4 years ago

Text

Remember Me Pt 4

Previous <------

Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, incarceration? and my shitty writing

A/N: Please comment or reblog, any feedback is amazing!

The room was small, with an interrogation table in front of me, everything the same shade of muted grey I woke up here earlier, and had been waiting for someone, anyone to come in and give me some information. Tugging at the cuffs that pinned me down to the table, I struggled to break free.

“Sorry, you’re not gonna be able to get out of those. They’re made for enhanced people.�� My eyes immediately darted to find the sound, settling on a man walking through the door.

“It’s you, from the lab. Who are you, how do you know my name? Where’s Bucky?” The questions began spilling out of my mouth, desperate for some sort of answers as to what the hell is going on. The man pulled out the chair that sat across from me, a file of papers in his hands.

“My name is Bruce, and let’s start with how much you remember,” He said. The name felt familiar, and although I was fighting him off before, I knew that I could trust him for some reason. His face was kind, and his voice was low and calming.

“It’s bits and pieces, nothing before Hydra, although I wish I did know, how do you know me?”

“Your name is Y/N Banner, a young scientific prodigy in quantum physics. According to records, you were the only one who was able to crack the secret of the Pym particle. You disappeared when you were nineteen years old after a college party, and no one had seen you since until now.” Banner, that was my last name, Banner. It had a nice ring to it, it felt powerful, strong.

“How long has it been since then?” He takes a deep breath, contemplating whether he should tell me or not.

“It’s been thirty-seven years.” It felt like a punch to the gut, they stole that much time from me. They stole thirty seven years from my life. Rage began coarsing through my veins, I needed to expel this, now. I smashed my hands into the table, before letting out an annoyed “fuck” from the pain. My hands left a small dent in the metal table.

“I’m sorry about the table, it's just, when you find out 37 years have been stolen from you, its hard to control your anger.”

“I know the feeling, believe me.” His hand fell over mine, and his eyes met mine, and although it was cloudy, something bubbled to the surface.

“Hey Stats, do you think I could get a hand with this?” Bruce’s voice called through the house. I rounded out of my own room to the room next door, where Bruce sat on his bed, books spread across the sheets and papers in every direction. His eyes looked up to me, pleading for help.

“Okay kid, what’s going on?”

“It’s this parabola problem, I’ve tried it like a billion times!” I laughed a little at his remark

“Bud, you and I both know that a billion is a bit of an overstatement. Let me see what we can do.” I saw the mistake immediately, a small computing error that he had been doing every single time. I circled the small mistake that had been throwing the whole problem off. He groaned loudly, letting out an annoyed “Really?”

“It’s gonna be okay, it was just a little computing error is all, there’s nothing to worry about.”

The two of us just sat, talking about school and stuff, how we were excited for the new school year. Bruce’s face fell, halfway through my sentence about the dorms.

“Bruce, what’s wrong?” He held his tongue for a moment, eyes beginning to get glassy.

“Why do you have to go away this year? Why can’t you just stay here, like regular?” I sighed. I knew he would react like this. I was finally 18, which meant legally, I could move out. Although I had completed most of my time in college at home already, I was going for my second doctorate and I wanted to finally have the chance to have the normal college experience, or at least as close to it as I could get. I needed to be an adult for once, be seen as an adult and not the child prodigy that I had always been seen as.

“Buddy, you know I want to be with you, hell, I’d bring you with me if I could, but they don’t allow 8 year olds in college dorms. I need to be an adult now, and I can’t do that staying home.” His eyes began to water, and I opened my arms out to him. “Come here, buddy.”

Bruce cried like that for a half an hour, as I held the small boy in his sadness, until he began to drift off to sleep.

“You’re the boy?” I said, looking at him. He definitely looked like the boy from my memory, but much older, with more lines on his face and a small scraggly bit of stubble, as if he had forgotten to shave, with a floppy curly mess on top, just like the boy had.

“What boy?” He asked tentatively, his eyes telling the story of hesitation and hurt, like he was holding back hope in fear of his heart breaking another time.

“There was a boy. I helped him with his math homework. He cried and I held him, his name was Bruce.”

“You remember?”

“Im starting.”

“You ok?” Steve asked me, nudging my arm. His eyes looked down at me in concern but I reassured him.

“I’m okay, Steve, I’ll be okay.”

“Tony couldn’t get us rooms next to each other, you’re on the fifth floor, I’m on the second.”

“Sounds good.”

Steve and I had grown to become pretty great friends since I got back. Steve and Bruce were the only ones that I felt safe enough around to talk to at the compound even from the beginning. I spent most of my time in the past few months either spending time with Bruce, and recovering my memories, or working with Steve to find Bucky. Spending my days going through mounds of papers and mission reports, to lunch dates working in the lab to help me regain that one and a half PhDs of information had been a daily occurrence and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Well, I would have it one other way. The only thing that would have made it better would be if Bucky was here with me. That’s why we were here, to find him and bring him home. We found a lead that told us he had been in Nevada for a while, specifically Vegas. We had booked a room at the hotel that he had been seen at.

As the elevator doors opened, Steve held the door open for me. “Get a good night’s sleep, we’ll get to work in the morning.”

“See ya in the morning, Steve.” I told him, as the doors began to close, leaving me in the hallway of the fifth floor. It was nice of him to go with me all the way up the elevator. I walked the long and winding halls until I found the right number, room 2603. Swiping the small key card against the scanner, the door clicked open and I walked inside. The room was clean, and out of complete habit, I began scanning the room for bugs, checking around the room to make sure nothing was listening in. Once I sweeped the place, the bed began to call to me, and I abandoned my clothing, before getting myself into bed, only a comfy shirt and panties left clinging to my body. With all the work that we had been doing to find Bucky, it was nice to have a chance to at least try and get some rest.

Bucky’s POV

I had hoped that she would come. There wasn’t much that I remembered, not yet at least, but she was coming back to me. I didn’t know how I knew here, but she was important, I could feel it. I knew the other guy was there two, Steve, the one I knew a long time ago, but for some reason, I knew I needed to see her. The two of them were important to me, I just knew it. There was an abandoned building to the side of the hotel that they were staying at, and I could see into the window of her room. The lights were dark, as she slept comfortably in her bed. I knew I shouldn’t, but I had to get closer, to see her. The clear, glassless window that I sat at was a clear shot from the balcony of her room.

Backing up from the edge, I took in a deep breath, calming my heart rate as I began running towards the opening. Pushing off the cement framing, I launched myself into the air, pushing myself forward even more until I felt my feet hit the cement of the balcony.

I could see her in there, sleeping. Somewhere inside of my head I knew this whole thing was wrong, but I couldn’t seem to stay away from her. It was creepy, wrong, but she looked so peaceful and innocent. It was a familiar feeling, not being in control, but this was different.

My head screamed out about how wrong this was, how disgusting I was being, while the rest of me was breaking the lock off of the door, walking into the room. The sound of the lock breaking and the door opening must have been too much sound, her body shot up in her bed, looking straight at me.

Reader POV

This has to be a dream, it couldn’t be anything else, a lucid dream that my brain had created to cope with the nightmares. There he stood, in the same room as me, dirty jacket and a baseball cap. His hair had gotten longer, like he hadnt been able to get it cut.

“Bucky?” My voice wavered with nerves and emotion, so scared that the man would disappear if I acknowledged that he’s here.

“You know me.” His voice was low and gruff, like he hadn’t had to use it in a while. I could feel my heart break. Although it was a statement and not a question. I could tell that he wasn’t all there, he didn’t remember me. Was this what Bruce felt like? Was this what it was like for him to see me, to know me, but the memory unreciprocated? A tear began to fall down my face, unable to control it.

“Yes, Buck, I know you.”

“Who are -“ he struggled to speak. “Who are you to me?” The knife that was already gutting me twisted into my stomach even more.

“Do you want to come closer?” I tried to keep calm as I spoke, not wanting to scare the man off. He was reluctant to come near me. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“In all fairness, that's not what I’m worried about, doll.” There was a flash of him, of my Bucky pushing through the fog to find me. I must have taken too long. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that, I-“

“Come here, please.” Hesitantly, he walked closer, but not close enough. Pulling the covers off of myself, I rose from the bed, walking to meet him in the middle.

“Who are you?” He was close, his breath fanning my face as I looked up at him.

“Can I show you?” He nodded, almost desperately, and I closed the gap between us, pushing myself into him and meeting my lips with his. At first he was shocked, not moving his lips against my own, but after a moment, it was as if pure instinct took over, as his mouth roughly kissed mine, pushing me back into the bed.

My back hit the covers, and I gasped out in surprise, giving Bucky the chance to deepen the kiss. Our tongues battled for dominance for a short while, but he won out in the end. I wrapped my fingers in his hair, tugging slightly. The man groaned out into my mouth, sending the feeling straight to my core.

Fuck, it had been too long. His hands were on me, holding my waist down on the bed. I gasped out, feeling as his metal hand had found its way under my shirt, playing with the flesh, twisting and pinching at my nipple; My hips bucked up, rolling over his clothed dick, and he let out a louder moan. I tested, rolling my hips over a few more times, before Bucky got impatient.

Bucky’s hand immediately trailed downward, slipping his hand past my panties. Two fingers pressed at my clit, and I cried out, hypersensitive after being away from him for so long. He was oddly silent, no clever quips or comments that I had been used to. I still couldn’t tell how much he really remembered.

His fingers began to make rough and harsh circles on my clit, making my back curl up into his chest.

“Fuck, Bucky, please!” I cried out, absolutely wrecked just by his touch after so long away from him. Quickly, fingers moved downwards, circling my entrance before easing them into me. Eyes rolled into the back of my head as he found that spongy spot inside of me, curling his fingers over it. I could feel the tightened knot in my stomach threatening to snap.

“Buck-“ I cried out as he suddenly sped up, pushing his fingers in and out of me as fast as he could. Screaming out, the knot snapped, my vision going white as the tsunami like wave passed through my body. Bucky slowed down his fingers, working me through my orgasm until the feeling had passed.

The sound of his belt unbuckling was music to my ears, knowing what was coming. The anticipation was absolutely killing me, as I heard fabric shift, feeling the rough fabric of his jeans slide away, along with his boxers. My head threw back as he began to tease, running the tip of his dick up and down me, never getting quite near where I needed him most.

“Bucky please, fuck me,” I breathed out, barely able to catch my own breath. He began to line himself up with me, and then suddenly without warning, slammed his hips into me. “Holy fuck, Bucky!”

His fingers dug into my hips harshly, I hoped that it would leave bruises after. His hips pistoned into me fast and harsh, the man knew what he wanted and he was going to get it, and goddamn it felt fucking good. His lips claimed mine, swallowing the sounds coming from my throat. It was like he was everywhere, I could only feel him.

It was all too overwhelming, and with little warning, my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I cried out for him, as his hips began to falter from his pace, getting closer and closer to his release. His dick twitched inside of me, and I felt as he spilled inside me, filling me up.

The sun began to creep through the window, waking me up. Confused, I got up from the hotel bed, I could have sworn that I had left the blinds shut when I fell asleep last night. I was pleasantly surprised with my own head last night. Normally, when my head hit the pillow, all I would see were the faces of the people I killed, reliving the awful memories that I have to deal with, but last night was different. I got to see Bucky. It was so real, his hands on my skin, his fingers and dick inside me.

I examined the door, looking for a moment, and noticing the lock that had been crushed, pulled out, and sat on the balcony. I couldnt understand what happened, until I looked at my own body. Lifting up my shirt slightly, I could see the purple indentations of his fingertips, Bucky’s fingertips.

It hadn’t been a dream after all.

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