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casspurrjoybell-33 · 5 months

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Taming Arrogance - Chapter 30

*Warning Adult Content*

Blake trails his knuckles down my cheek, the soft and intimate touch is enough to heighten my senses in the dark bedroom of the hotel suite.

He shifts in bed, getting closer to me, close enough that his warm breath fans across my face.

"Are you still awake?" he whispers into the silence.

I open my eyes, surprised at how much the city lights illuminate the room.

Blake's chiseled jaw is shadowed behind a light stubble and I have the urge to brush my fingertips against it.

The synthetic lights are doing wonders to his pointed features, giving him the appearance of a dark angel.

He smirks and allows the knuckle of his index finger to continue its path down my jawline.

"I had fun with you on our date," he says, still whispering.

"Me too. Despite the start of it. Well, that and the shitty wine."

Blake's smile slips and his finger stills.

"I'm sorry, Callum. It was an asinine move on my part."

"Choosing a restaurant that served shitty wine?"

His remains unflinching, keeping a serious expression in tow.

"For writing that note."

'Yeah. It was. I want to tell him that a piece of me is still fuming over it.'

It wasn't so much all the shit that happened at the restaurant but more so the time spent at the hotel, well crying, that fuckin' sucks to admit.

It's the fact that he knew I was so upset and waited hours before relieving my worry.

"Callum," Blake whispers, leaning his head in until his forehead touches mine.

"Jealousy isn't an emotion I'm used to feeling. Yet when it comes to you, it's like it's always tethered to an exceptionally short leash."

My stomach quivers hearing about his jealousy, is it wrong to find it attractive, hot even?

"But because I'm not used to experiencing it," Blake continues.

"I don't really know how to handle it," his voice is deep and has a slight rasp to it and fuck does he sound sexy.

His comment is riddled with vulnerability but there is still a masculinity to him that is unshakable.

He slides his index finger along my jaw, stopping at my chin to urge my gaze up to his.

"Forgive me?"

I roll my eyes.

"I mean. Is it part of my job description?"

"No but it could fall under your 'other duties as assigned,'" he answers with a wistful smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever."

There's a beat of silence and Blake's gaze slowly rakes down my face.

It's as if his eyes are lapping up every detail of me for the first time.

Then his gaze lands on my lips and my prior stomach quiver is put to shame by a full-on body shudder.

"I have to be honest, Callum. I have been staring at these all night long without being able to kiss them."

His thumb grazes my bottom lip and my dick twitches at the action.

I try to slow my breathing and act as unaffected as possible.

"It's been far too long since I've had them against mine," Blake murmurs.

It's an invitation, I can almost feel his lips inching closer, ready to claim mine in another heated embrace.

Out of sheer disobedience I jerk my head back and frown.

"Yeah, well. Those lips will have to suffer through one more night of loneliness and after that little stunt you pulled today, you're lucky it isn't longer," my words come out in a biting tone but with just enough of a playful edge to have their intended effect.

Blake drops his hand away from my chin.

The softness in his eyes ignites with a dark passion, his smirk returns.

"Is that how you want to play it?"

I scoff and shake my head.

"You're an idiot. Go to bed."

Delving out a condescending pat on his shoulder, I roll over and make obnoxious snoring noises.

Blake doesn't move from his spot, I expect him to make another comment but he doesn't.

Instead, a challenging hand curls around my wrist, tugging on my arm until I'm forced onto my back.

Blake uses his other hand to pin me down, he throws his leg over my hips and straddles me, the action quick and dominating.

The warmth of his thighs radiate against mine and my heart beats wildly in my chest.

He's never been on top of me like this before.

His erection is visible beneath his sport shorts and it takes every ounce of self-control not to grind against him.

"Callum," he says, and his voice takes on the same tone he used this morning with me in the bathroom.

"I am going to kiss you because I want to and I know you want to. Do you understand?"

His words turn my insides to jell-o, my erection throbs beneath my shorts.

All I want him to do is touch me, dare I say even fuck me?

My asshole clenches just thinking about it, no, no I'm not ready for that yet but a kiss yeah, a kiss and some touching I can handle.

"Yes," I respond weakly.

Blake dips his head down and his fingers tighten against my wrist.

He brushes his lips against mine with a whisper of the faintest kiss.

"Yes what?" I swallow hard.

"Yes, Sir."

********

The sound of water pelting against the window coerces me awake.

I pry my eyes open, appreciating the smatter of rain hazing the view of the city.

I roll onto my side, noting Blake's absence from the other side of the bed.

The bathroom door is cracked open though and a billow of steam slowly spills out, creeping its way into the bedroom.

I'm not sure what time it is but from the looks of it, I'm waking up just in time to keep on schedule for whatever plans Blake has on the agenda today.

My shoulders sag with disappointment when my boss walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed and clean-shaven.

His eyes seek me out and he grins.

The smile doesn't reach his eyes, though.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"How'd you sleep?" he asks, buttoning the sleeve of his dress shirt.

"Great, after receiving that awesome blow job."

Blake frowns.

"I didn't give you a blow job last night."

I scoff and kick my way out of bed.

"Yeah. I know, asshole. What gives?"

He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Be careful with your teasing, Callum."

A blush trickles up my neck and spills onto my cheeks, I can feel Blake's eyes on me, studying my every movement as I bend down to get some clean clothes from my suitcase.

Truth be told, I can't get enough of the guy and if it wasn't for fuckin' Todd surprising us with a late night phone-call, frantically informing us that one of Blake's many cars had been towed, I would have gotten more too.

'Damnit Todd.'

"So what's on the agenda today, boss?" I ask, shouldering past him to get to the bathroom.

"I have a meeting in about an hour."

I swipe up my toothbrush and slide the cap off my toothpaste.

Blake leans against the bathroom doorway, casually stuffing his hands into his pockets.

He doesn't hide the look of desire lurking beneath his dark eyes, their focus so intent that every inch of my skin feels like it's being devoured by his gaze.

"Cool. I'll be ready in ten," I say and jut my foot out to kick the bathroom door closed.

Blake catches it before it latches into place and gives me a small smile.

The expression he wore last night settles across his features again, it's a look I now realize is a combination of both fear and guilt.

"What?" I ask, trying to ignore the sudden knot forming in my stomach.

"Don't tell me you have another date planned with Phil?"

Blake grimaces and shakes his head.

"Callum, you are more than welcome to join me today but I am also giving you the option to take the day off."

I raise a brow.

"Why?"

He blanches and starts fiddling with his cufflinks.

"Because. There's another gentleman that I know must be itching for your time and attention and I won't lie and say I'm not thrilled about the fact that I'll be the man sharing a bed with you this evening but I realize you still need time with him. To do whatever it is you need to do."

I pull the toothbrush out of my mouth and spit in the sink, Cade's face pops into my head, his carefree smile and twinkling eyes.

It makes my shoulders tighten with dread, I need to tell him that it's over, even if it really never started to begin with, how will he take it?

On some level, I think he knows this is coming, e has to, then again, I didn't exactly go out of my way to enlighten him on just how much deep my feelings went for Blake.

I scoop up a handful of water and splash it on my face, each water droplet feels like a small, separate slap on the face, well-deserved ones at that.

I've had plenty of practice of dumping chicks before but I've never had to turn down a dude.

"Alright," I agree, grabbing up a towel and scraping it down my face.

"I'll text you later?"

Blake stiffens and nods, a flash of jealousy crosses his features but he quickly conceals it, forcing a tight-lipped smile across his lips.

"I can pick you up whenever and wherever you need," he says, though his offer sounds more like a plea.

"Just text me and I'll be there."

This time it's me chuckling and shaking my head, I take the few, needed steps to reach the door, leaning in to give him a playful punch on the arm.

"You're hot when you're jealous."

Blake catches my hand before I have a chance to drop it back to my side, tugging me into his chest and wrapping his arms around me, then he hugs me, hard.

When he pulls away, he clears his throat and places a single, chaste kiss on the center of my forehead.

"I'll wait until I hear from you," he says.

Without looking back, he slips out of the master bedroom.

I watch him grab for his suitcase in the living room and adjust his tie once in the mirror before walking out the door.

The silence following his exit is deafening, a myriad of emotions runs through me, so powerful that it makes my stomach hurt.

Then I swallow hard and glance at my phone resting quietly on the nightstand.

I move towards it with hesitant steps, hoping that by some small chance Cade already knows I want Blake instead of him but when I unlock it and see I have three new texts waiting for me, all from Cad, I know it is wishful thinking.

My fingers hover over the keypad, and with stiff movements I type out my message.

Callum Greene: Hey man. Any chance we can meet today? We need to talk.

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astrolionking · 2 years

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Proof That Lightning and Mater are In Love (part 2 bc I have issues💕)

“I love Mater” AHA!!!!!! HE ADMITS IT!!

Fellas is it gay to have a dream abt saving your guy best friend from dinosaurs

THE WAY LIGHTNING IMMEDIATELY GOES TO SNUGGLE MATER WHEN HES SCARED

The way Mater gently asks if Lightning is okay the next morning

“There’s nobody else out here. Wanna race?” He’s a little too happy about being completely alone with him👀

The way Lightning worries about Mater constantly

THE WIIIIINK

“You was worried about me, wasn’t ya?” “Of course I was, you big lug nut!” I lowkey predicted those lines /j

“I thought this was our time. We were going to hang out together. Make our own plans together, right?” HOW CAN PIXAR TELL ME THEY AREN’T DATING WHEN LIGHTNING WANTS TO SPEND THE NIGHT ALONE WITH MATER????

“A perfectly innocent trip with a friend?” “What’s going on here?” They’re on to your gay asses, McQueen, that’s what.

Just two guys with their monster truck daughter you gotta love it

Lighting hyping Mater up while he’s dancing😭💕

“Can’t mess with perfection!” BOY I STG /pos

“I celebrate life’s simple pleasures” I’m sure you do, Twink On Wheels (this isn’t proof I just wanted to make that awful joke)

“Look who’s finally coming around about the circus” *Lightning scoffs* THE TEASING

“No, this is good, it’ll be like one of them exposure therapy things!” Mater trying to be a good partner :,)

“Your tow hook is second to none. You are 100% a truck.” When your bf is feeling dysphoric and you tell him what you love abt him :,)

The way Mater immediately makes Lightning laugh when he’s feeling upset😭💕

Lightning’s little “rawr~” towards Mater EXCUSE ME

The way Lightning looks at Mater and has his full undivided attention on him as he says his speech😭

FINALLY! Married Couple Fighting. They’re both petty idiots that can’t stay mad at each other :,)

Lightning realizing that spending time with Mater means a lot to him😭

And the way the scene is shot makes it seem like Lightning and Mater locked eyes, causing Mater to forget whatever else we wanted to say. ITS THE GAY PANIC FOR ME.

And that’s all!! I love these idiots so much.

#pixar cars on the road #Pixar cars

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aurorablue22 · 3 years

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Scarface - Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: Somebody decides to mess with Moony.

(A/N): This can be interpreted as a platonic or romantic relationship between Remus and the reader, it hasn’t been specified! Also, as far as I know, I have created the names and characters of Michael Bershire and his crowd.

Warnings: violence, blood, mention of scars, heavy swearing. If you are sensitive to these things, please do not continue below the “keep reading” line.

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It was a typical Sunday night for Remus Lupin. As per usual, he had picked up prefect duties for this evening, and wandered throughout the corridors of the castle.

Midnight was fast approaching, and Remus paused for a moment. Due to him being a werewolf, his senses were amplified, meaning that one of his abilities was superb hearing.

Lupin cocked his head towards the dungeon staircase, where he heard a bit of commotion. He didn’t even have a moment to approach the noise before the cause was revealed.

Michael Bershire and his Slytherin gang.

Remus forced himself not to roll his eyes. Of course, they just had to be out while he was on prefect rounds.

It seemed that the five lads didn’t notice Remus until he cleared his throat. They quickly snapped their heads in his direction.

“Lupin, ol’ chap! What’re you doing out so late? Haven’t you got a book to read?” Michael Bershire held his head up high, an annoyingly perfect grin plastered on his face. His gelled auburn hair reflected so strongly the candlelight in the halls.

Remus had to refrain from rolling his eyes as Bershire took a few steps forward. “Gentlemen, it’s approaching midnight. I’ll have to ask you to return to your dormitories.”

“Oh and that we will do! It’s just, we’re a bit preoccupied at the moment. Isn’t that right, lads?” Bershire looked back at his companions, who nodded fervently.

Remus was taller than Bershire, but because of his horrible posture, they seemed to be on the same level. He bit back a grimace when Bershire’s painfully minty breath stung his eyes.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” Bershire dramatically turned, his house robes swishing behind him.

“Well then,” Remus says, “I’m afraid I’ll have to report you to your head of house, and I don’t believe you’d want that to happen. So if you don’t mind-”

And just as dramatically, the Slytherin boy whipped around again.

“What was that, Scarface?”

Before Remus could even form words, Bershire was stalking towards him.

“How dare you speak to me in such an authoritative tone? After all, you’re... well you’ve got mud in your veins!”

“And blood on his face.” one of the boys behind him added. Remus recognized him to be Adam Percival, the greasiest boy he knew.

“You’re right Perce, he does have blood on his face. What, was ol’ Minnie upset you didn’t grade her papers for her? Or was it-”

“Shut it, Bershire.” Remus tried his best to compose himself, but couldn’t seem to look away from his shuffling feet. The full moon was only a few days ago, and he’d been left with a couple scrapes around his jaw and cheeks.

Michael Bershire was baffled. That is, until he came up with another one of his clever ideas.

“Boys, I’d say we teach Lupin a little lesson. After all, he should know - given his crowd - that snitches are frowned upon.” The 5 Slytherins slowly stalked towards Remus. “And you know what they say-”

“Snitches get stitches.”

It was then that Remus was swiftly grabbed by two of the boys, and his arms were held behind him as Bershire swung at his stomach. Once they’d decided he’d had enough, Remus’ arms were dropped and his knees buckled under their forceful kicks.

They pushed him onto the ground where they continued to harm him; kicking and hitting with all their might. It seemed like ages before they let up.

Slowly, they backed away, but not before Michael could kneel before Remus’ shaking form.

“Remember what I said, Lupin.”

And with that, he stood up and hurried away, while Remus was left alone in the dark corridor.

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

Sirius’ head perked up as Remus entered the common room portrait hole.

“Moony you’re back! Merlin we thought you got lost-”

“Where ya been, mate?” James cut him off. “We had to play three extra rounds of exploding snap waitin’ for you!”

Peter sat up from his position in front of the fireplace. “Alright Moony? You seem kinda quiet-”

“Good Godric Remus, you look awful!” Sirius shouted when Lupin faced them.

“Yeah, and I feel just as great.” he said, taking a seat on the worn out couch.

James came to sit on the armrest beside him. “What happened Moons?”

After Remus came to explain the series of events, the rest of the Marauders were fuming.

“Oh I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him!” Sirius shouted as he kicked over a coffee table.

“Sirius please, not now!” Remus groaned, covering his ears. “All I want right now, is to go to my room, and get a good night’s rest. Alright? I’ll deal with this bullshit in the morning.”

“Here, we’ll help you up.” James offered his arm, to which Remus took politely. Just as they were lifting the lycanthrope off the couch, they heard giggles coming from the staircase leading to the girls dormitories.

“Who’s there?” Peter whisper shouted, receiving a “You bloody idiot!” and a slap from Sirius.

“It’s just us!” Marlene whisper shouted back, as she, followed by you and Lily, entered the common room.

“What the hell are you doing up?”

“Nice to see you too, Black.” Marlene raised an eyebrow.

“If you really wanted to know, we were hungry, and figured the house elves might have some snacks for us. What’s your excuse?” Lily said, crossing her arms over her pajama top.

“Remus just got back from prefect duties, figured we would-”

“Sweet Merlin Remus, what happened to you?” you suddenly exclaimed, making Peter jump.

You rushed over to him, taking hold of his face, forcing him to look at you.

“It’s nothing (Y/N), really. My transformation was a little rough, that’s all-”

“Remus, your transformation was three days ago. What the bloody hell is all this?!”

“Bershire beat him up.” James confessed.

Remus turned to face Potter, shooting imaginary daggers at him.

“She was bound to find out anyway! Besides, look what he’s bloody done!”

“Michael Bershire did this to you? That bastard-”

Remus gently removed your hands from his face. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, but I really don’t want to deal with this right now. Can somebody please just help me to my room?”

The boys swooped in and half carried Remus to their dormitories, while you and your girls quietly said goodnight.

“Can you fucking believe that?!”

“Marlene, hush.”

“That fucking twat. Oh, I can’t wait to see what the boys have in store for him. I bet-”

“Marlene, please! Remus said he didn’t want to deal with this right now, so we’re dropping the subject. I say we go back to our rooms and get some rest.”

“But I’m hungry!”

“Swallow your spit. Now c’mon.” Lily ushered Marlene back up the stairs, before turning back and taking your hand.

“You alright, (Y/N/N)?” she gave you a knowing look.

“I’m with Marlene. I can’t wait to see what’s in store for him.”

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Lily was the earliest riser in your dorm. That being said, she took it upon herself to wake the rest of you up in the morning. You’d had a half decent sleep, and as you rubbed your eyes awake, you heard the playful banter of Marlene and Alice.

“Marls, get a move on!! You know what we said about those Hollywood showers!”

“It’s Americano, Ally!”

“I don’t give a damn what it is! Get out!”

You and Lily were ready before the rest of the girls, so you walked arm in arm down to the Great Hall. It wasn’t until the Marauders sat at your table you recalled everything that happened last night.

“Alright (Y/N/N)? That vein in your forehead looks like its’ bout to burst.” Sirius said while grabbing a stack of pancakes.

“Do you have an bloody clue what you’re going to do about this?! Remus, you can’t let Bershire off this easy.” you turned your head towards your favorite (and slightly bruised) lycanthrope.

“I swear, I’m fine. And besides, the boys will work up something eventually.”

“Yea, eventually.” James exclaimed through forkfuls of food. “Moony made us promise to not even look at Bershire for a week!”

“A week?!”

James nodded enthusiastically, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

“Since when do you defend bullies, Remus?!” you practically yelled, clenching the cutlery you were holding.

“It’s not that (Y/N), it’s just-”

“It’s because he’s afraid of him.” Peter blurted out, making everyone’s heads turn. His hands shot over his mouth in realization.

“Why is it the only time you open your mouth it’s to say something stupid?” Sirius said, hanging onto a glare.

“You’re afraid of Michael Bershire?! Remus that’s not healthy! That’s- that’s horrible! Sweet Merlin Rem, I’ll show him what to be afraid of-” Remus cut you off.

“I’ve told you already, please don’t make me repeat myself again.” Remus placed his hand over yours. “The boys will handle this eventually. If you really love me, stay out of it.”

You settled down then, but still scanned the Hall for any signs of Remus’ attacker. The rest of breakfast carried on as usual, the rest of your friends joining you for the meal.

Sirius walked you and Mary to class, giving you each a courteous bow.

“Shall I pick you up after your lesson, my fair ladies?” he said in a deep bow, with a rigid posh accent. “The gentlemen and I were planning on.. err.. skipping our courses.”

You giggled at Sirius’ poor attempt of finding a replacement word for “skip”.

“Yeah, why not. See ya then, Black!” Mary turned towards the door.

“I bid you farewell my lovelies!” he then proceeded to bound down the hallway to Astronomy, which was on the complete opposite side of the castle.

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Your class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, passed fairly quickly. And just as he had promised, Sirius came to pick you up, now with James and Marlene in tow.

Marlene beamed at the sight of you and Mary.

“Thank Godric you’re here! I was getting tired of these two.”

James gave her a light shove. “We’ll be meeting Moony and Wormtail towards the east end.”

“Couldn’t convince Lily to come along?”

James looked like he was about to protest, but sighed in defeat. You and your friends continued down the corridor, eventually meeting Remus and Peter after their rigorous Astronomy note-taking. You soon found yourself squished between James and Remus, marching down the main hallway.

“Hey, I thought we were sticking to the east end?”

“Silly (Y/N), we were meeting in the east end.” Sirius explained, as if he were speaking to a child. “Now, we’re on our way to the west end.”

“Ah right, and it makes perfect sense to take the busiest corridor in the school.” Mary quipped, and Marlene giggled.

The walk was pleasant, and filled with greetings from fellow classmates. Every now and then, James and Sirius would snicker about something, or mutter jokes to the group. It was then, that you saw him.

Michael Bershire, proud and tall, lead his pack of nuisances opposite you down the bright hallway. Most students ducked out of the way to avoid him, and a few first years were visibly shaking at the sight of him.

Your vision went red as you locked eyes on your target. It was time.

“James,” you slipped your bag off and passed it to your left, “mind holding this f’me?”

“Uh, yeah su- (Y/N)!!”

In the blink of an eye, you had left your friends’ sides and found yourself hurtling towards Bershire. Although you were smaller than him, the sheer impact of your collision with him knocked the two of you off your feet. You landed on top on him.

He knocked his head off the stone floor, and for a moment you thought he’d lost consciousness. But the bewildered look in his eyes told you otherwise. It was now or never.

“YOU BLOODY BASTARD!” you screamed, letting hell rain down on Michael Bershire. You swung left and right, pummeling his once perfectly sculpted face. You could feel the bruises forming on your knuckles already. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH REMUS LUPIN?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU BLITHERING FUCK!”

Somehow, Bershire had managed to wrap his legs around your waist, pulling you towards him and flipping your bodies so that you were beneath him. He pinned your wrists beside your head, and you felt the concrete sting your hands.

‘No, how dare you, you muddy little bitch?!”

And that’s what set you off. You produced a sound that could only be described as a battle cry, and flung your forehead up and into his. Distracted by the headbutt, Bershire’s tense core loosened the slightest bit. It was enough for you crunch up and bring your knees into his groin, causing him to cry out in pain.

Using his own momentum against him, you successfully flipped around again, resuming your position above his quivering form. Your hands found themselves around his throat, and without realizing it, you were bashing his head in the ground.

thunk, thunk, thunk.

It was only Professor McGonagall’s shrill cry of fear that brought you back to reality.

“MISS (L/N), GET OFF OF THAT BOY!”

You felt strong hands wrap around your arms and shoulders, whipping around to see that it was the four Marauders pulling you away from Bershire. The Slytherin gang was dragging said boy’s writhing and groaning form onto a cot from the hospital wing.

You only stopped your kicking and resistance when McGonagall approached you, pointing her finger in your face, looking more angry than you’d ever seen her.

“My office. Now.” she spoke, in such a tone that visible shivers went down your spine. The boys had yet to let go of your arms, and half carried you down the hallway of gawking and goggling students.

Once arriving to her office, McGonagall stood in the doorway. She looked expectant and impatient all wrapped into one. You were finally let go of, and slowly turned to the four boys behind you.

James and Peter still looked a bit shocked, and you found little comfort in the proud look Sirius was trying to hide. But Remus’ face is what hurt you the most.

“Rem, I-” you croaked. He wouldn’t even look at you. “I’m so sorry, I don’t-”

McGonagall cleared her throat bitterly behind you, cutting you off. You whispered another, barely audible “I’m sorry”, before following the Professor into her office.

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Hello my lovelies!! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Let me know if I should follow up with this fic!

Also, a reminder that requests are open!! <3

~Aurora

#Remus Lupin #Young!Remus Lupin #Young!Marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #young remus x reader #young remus x y/n #young remus imagine #marauders x reader #marauders era

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wandering-travesty · 3 years

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Call Me By Your Name

You weren’t sleezy. That was just a word idiots used to try and pull you down to their level. Yes, your hair was slicked back. Yes, your eyeshadow was dark as the night. Yes, your suit jacket barely covered your chest. Yes, your nails were painted black and sharp as daggers. But, no, you weren’t sleezy. You were dressed for your job. What was your job? Well, that was a bit more complicated….

“I need you to get close to him.” Erwin said coolly, stubble covered chin resting on his strong hands.

“I’m sorry?” You asked, genuinely hoping you had too much wax lodged in your ear canals.

“You heard him.” You met the glare of the midget standing behind your boss.

“Okay, smartass, I did. But you can’t be serious, boss! He’s beyond dangerous. Shouldn’t someone like,” you gestured in Levi’s direction, “one of the Ackermans take care of this? I’m not discounting myself or anything, but fucking with a Yeager is basically a suicide mission.” You were actually shocked Erwin asked you to do something so important. More so, dangerous. You weren’t exaggerating when you said it was a death sentence. You’d lost enough comrades to know that.

“Listen, he’s the key to taking down the Marlian Syndicate.” You knew that, but still, this seemed out of left field. “The Ackermans are strong, yes, but they lack a certain…”

“They’re not ready to whore themselves out. Just say that, Smith.” You understood now. The Ackermans were cold blooded killers ready to strike at any moment. However, they were awkward and completely inept at things like lust and heated and frankly revolting rendezvous. That was how he wanted you to get information for him.

Erwin wanted you to fuck the leader of the Marlian Syndicate.

“I wouldn’t use that wording exactly, but your assumption is correct.” Levi couldn’t seem to meet your gaze, but Erwin continued to stare straight into your soul. He was the leader of La Peste Eldienne (The Eldian Plague) for a reason. Strong, debonair, charming, and slightly insane. He could down a beer in one swig, sip a martini all night long, or abstain from alcohol completely. Whatever he needed to do, he did. He murdered, sent the idiotic young and the hopeless old to their deaths just the same, and could absolutely wine and dine a stranger until their clothes practically flew off their body if it was for the cause. You needed to be like that. Especially at a time like this.

“I’ll do it. And I’ll do it well.” You assured your boss and his partner. Yeah, this would be easy. You could go low as the scum you were about to completely fuck over. You had been climbing up the ranks as of late, so this would be easy as pie.

Before going on your little date: you made a mental note of the main players you would have to deal with. The list you had went something like this:

Porco Galliard: Complete idiot. All brawn, no brain. Basically a bouncer with a fancier jacket and a higher salary. No worries about him doing anything funny.

Pieck Finger: The sweet little thing they kept around for good reason. Part of you wished you had to deal with her instead. She was witty and had a surprising amount of control over the shipments of cocaine and ammunition that went on about the city. Her pretty face and calm demeanor hid her true genius. She was one of the more concerning figures at tonight’s gig, but also one of the one’s more willing to hear you out before killing you.

Colt Grice: Basically a smarter but weaker version of Galliard. He was really only part of the Syndicate to learn from the best and become a great mafioso one day. You had high hopes for him, despite yourself.

Bertholdt Hoover: A freakishly tall mix of the last three members of the gang. So sweaty and shaky he wasn’t allowed to handle guns under any circumstance. That told you all you needed to know about his threat level.

Annie Leonhardt: Tiny, quiet ball of rage and skill. Could murder you in an instant, but would only do so if ordered. Not a concern unless someone else found you out, or you didn’t like being glared at all night.

Reiner Braun: His personality changed with the passing minutes. Could be calm and almost kind, or could snap your neck like a twig in his giant ass hand. He was a wildcard, and a dangerous one. Though he was obsessed with following orders and being the perfect little soldier boy, so you didn’t need to worry about him if no one told him to start shooting.

Yelena: Even more freakishly tall than Hoover. Also freakishly obsessed with the gang leader and his “master plan”, whatever the hell that was. Maybe you would find out tonight. Anyways, she would only do anything if you threatened the boss in any way. If you did your job right, that wouldn’t be an issue.

Eren Yeager: Easily the most brash and idiotic member of the gang. His problem was that he was trigger happy. In this business, trigger happy meant dozens of dead innocents piled up on the club floor in an instant. You had to be careful around him. Unlike most of the others, he would kill you without thinking.

And the top dog. The man of the hour. The man you had to seduce:

Zeke Yeager: Think Erwin but with more wit and charm. Not to mention more of a sadistic mindset. His favorite game was cat and mouse, seeing how long it took before he had a good excuse to have someone drawn and quartered. His expertise was slow torture that the victim didn’t even really know was happening before the barrel of the gun was already pointed to their temple. And you had to fuck him so stupid he leaked confidential information.

The only other issue with Zeke was his habit of sleeping around. Yes, he was a tramp by most standards. A harlot with exotic tastes. You had heard stories of him seducing women and men alike, and god only knew what they did once he succeeded. What that meant for you was he would be hard to impress.

So, you were here to beat him at his own game. And if you were found out, his younger brother would most likely shoot you on the spot. That was, if one of the others did it first. Or even worse, Zeke decided to be a tried and true asshole and torture you to death. The options were endless, and you hated them all.

So there you sat, ass perched on a bar stool, sipping on a gin rickey and waiting for your opportunity. The room smelled strongly of tobacco, rum, and cinnamon. At least you would die surrounded by what you loved, you thought, laughing grimly to yourself. Men and women danced to slow songs you faintly recognized. The air buzzed with haughty laughter and upper class small talk. You barely had any idea how to interact with high society shitheads as high and mighty as the ones Yeager surrounded himself with. You weren’t often sent out to jobs like this. You were like Levi, born in the slums and never taught how to properly behave. You knew what you had to, much like your knowledge of the goings on of La Peste Eldienne. You knew your gang traded drugs, ammunition, and whatever else was a hot commodity at the time, but nothing other than that. You were actually quite glad to know nothing, since that made you a pretty unimportant person to rival gangs. Not as many death threats and kidnapping attempts came your way, unlike the ones Erwin, Hange, and Levi got every day. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts on the gang hierarchy.

“Excuse me, miss. The boss wants to chat with ya’ real quick.” A man with greasy hair and green, catlike eyes softly gripped your shoulder. Considering what you knew of Galliard, you figured that grip wouldn’t be soft for much longer if you didn’t do as he suggested.

“Oh, alright. Did he happen to mention why?” You were genuinely curious. Porco didn’t offer you any solid answer, but there was a reasonable explanation.

Zeke wanted to get his rocks off. Parties could be interesting, with the right people, of course. The right people hadn’t happened to show up that night. You, on the other hand, seemed interesting. To be frank, you were gorgeous. Even from a distance, he could tell there was something behind your eyes that spelled trouble. He loved people like you. Vicious, cunning, witty, all hidden behind an uninterested and bored demeanor. Those were the people he wanted around him. The best examples were Pieck, and surprisingly, Levi. They seemed to be completely different people than the ones hiding behind their eyes, and Zeke loved to see how long it took to break them down. Well, he was a bit kinder to Pieck, but you and Ackerman got the rough treatment.

“Zeke, what the hell’re you doin’?” Eren pulled him out of his rather disgusting thoughts of…things better left unsaid.

“I’m going to talk to a woman, Eren. What does it seem like I’m doing?” Zeke had a sharp tongue and quick wit, which he didn’t spare even his brother from.

“I get that, but why that one? She seems…shady t’me. I wouldn’t let ‘er get too close, y’know?”

“Eren, please be rational.” Zeke held a palm out in front of Eren, as if to physically stop his train of thought. “You and Yelena will shoot at the first sign of danger, so inviting this lovely woman to join us for a harmless chat isn’t a danger in the slightest.” Zeke reassured his brother, neglecting to tell him his true intentions. He was sure that would just make him more upset and skittish, which was dangerous for everyone there.

“’Kay, boss. Got the dame ya’ asked for.” Porco trudged to the brothers’ secluded table with you in tow. He had kept one hand on your shoulder and the other right above your ass. The two main reasons being: one, he didn’t want someone so seemingly important to escape his grip, and two, you had a nice ass.

“Ah, thank you Galliard…you can let her go now.” He gave Porco a knowing smirk. He let you go immediately and walked away, cheeks slightly reddened. Zeke didn’t want someone else touching his new toy.

“I’m sorry if this comes off as rude, but did you need something from me? That man made me leave my gin at the bar and I would like to finish it at some point.” Oh, Zeke was going to love you. You weren’t flighty or scared in the slightest. He knew you had seen some serious shit. Not to mention how you cared more about your alcohol than a dangerous mafia boss and his younger brother ordering you over to their table. You were attractive and relatable. What a catch.

“My apologies, Galliard tends to be a bit, how do you say, brutish. Feel free to order something new and sit down with us.” He gave you a smile that told you it wasn’t a suggestion. This guy was already just as bad as everyone had told you. He hailed a waiter over to the table. You knew that wasn’t some kind gesture, rather a show of how much power he had over everyone there. His long, thick fingers and suave smile also showed you how easily swayed you could be by dashing looks and raw power.

He held himself like a king but talked like a philosopher. At the same time, he was down to earth yet still slightly condescending. You never knew where you stood with him, and he liked it that way. His flaxen hair was parted down the middle, and unlike most of the men there along with yourself with their hair hardened with pomade, it was fluffy and moved as he gestured wildly when he spoke. He tended to talk with his hands, once again drawing attention to just how attractive they were. His face was indescribably beautiful. His eyes were like stormy oceans cascading with passion and intrigue. His lips looked soft and plush with a wonderful roseate hue. His beard was well groomed and framed his sharp jaw perfectly. His gold rimmed glasses had a habit of hiding his eyes when thrown into direct light, which often happened with how he talked with his whole body. The way he constantly made direct eye contact with you had you lost in a daze of desire and fear. Was this all some sick ploy to get you to slip up and get everyone you loved killed along with yourself? Or was he seriously that interested in you?

Eren was quiet most of the time, unless Zeke spoke to him. He didn’t like you. You were too similar to Zeke for his tastes.

“Say, Eren, could you pass me a smoke?”

“Oh, so you do have vices. See, you never ordered a drink for yourself, so I assumed you were a man above pleasures of the flesh.” You flashed a toothy grin at him, signaling that it was just playful banter. You two were both rather good at that.

“My dear, the more you get to know me, the better you will understand just how enthralled with earthly pleasures I am.” He winked, and it sent you to the moon with want. How could a man be so gorgeous, charming, dangerous, and sadistic all at the same time? And why did you have to deal with it? You needed him out of his right mind, but it seemed like that could never happen. Whether it came from alcohol, drugs, or sex. You planned to use a mixture of all three. As you continued your playful jabs and taunts at each other, you found your opportunity to seal the deal. One sniff of the white stuff and he was putty in your hands.

“Now you know, Mr. Yeager, gin isn’t my only vice.” You kept your usual sly tone.

“Oh really? That is quite the interesting thing to say.” He matched your energy perfectly. This was too good.

“Have you ever happened to try, well, what do they call it these days? Well, I tend to call it blow. Snow, stardust, snort, sugar, crack, whichever you prefer, I suppose.” Oh, how brave of you to mention your own trade to your top competitor.

“Why, yes, I have indeed partook in snorting blow. Is there any reason as to why you’re asking me that right now, darling?” You wished he would stop with the pet names. Or rather, you wished you would stop loving them so much. It felt dirty to enjoy your enemy’s company to this extent.

“Well, I was wondering if you might like to sneak off and try some of my personal mix.” You leaned in close, covering the side of you mouth with your hand. Eren wasn’t a bad kid or anything, but he’d mess with your plan, and you couldn’t have that. Especially not with his slippery ass trigger finger.

“Your own personal mix, eh? Don’t tell me you’re involved in the trade, now.” He leaned in just shy of touching your lips. “That wouldn’t be very good for either of us, sweetheart.” That’s it, you were fucking this man if it was part of your plan or not. The entire thing could go south, and you’d still want this man’s dick in your mouth. You didn’t really care anymore. He was too hot to handle, and you were this close to cracking under the pressure. Zeke was right, you were fun to play with.

“Not at all, I just happen to know the right people.” You grinned at him, knowing you technically weren’t lying. It was your own little inside joke, or so you thought.

The next thing you knew you were in Zeke’s penthouse, smashed up against the wall with a hand around your neck. By all accounts, this is what you wanted, but it was also quite the opposite.

“Dearest, I find it insulting that you think I would fall for that pitiful act.” He had you figured out from the moment you walked in. Zeke Yeager never forgot a pretty face. He’d wanted to have you naked in his bed for months, and here you were, all helpless and needy. You were adorable, thinking you could get whatever you wanted from him.

“Smith was a fool to send anyone, let alone a little minx like you.” You hated how good being insulted by this bitch felt. How did he make it so that your panties got wetter every time he called you a different synonym for whore? It was so awful and so amazing.

“I’m the slut, yet you’re the one actively trying to fuck me? Do I have that right?” You quipped the best you could from under the pressure of his strong hand.

“Alright then, we’re both sluts. But the difference between us is that I admit it, yet you pretend to be this perfect little princess in order to fuck powerful men like me.” His grip on your neck tightened as if to add injury to insult.

“Don’t insult me,” you had to catch your breath between each word, “I fuck men ten times more powerful than you.” But, god was it worth it. You figured he might slap you or otherwise reprimand you, but no, the bastard just smiled wide. What a fucking asshole.

“Maybe to you.” He widened his cheshire grin. “Maybe you think Erwin’s more powerful. That he has a bigger cock and sucking it will get you further in life.” He pushed you further into the wall. “Or maybe letting Ackerman smack your ass will earn you some cash. Or having Zacharius sniff around your cunt instead of your neck will rise you up the ranks, hmm?” You just grimaced at him, knowing none of it was true. “Or maybe,” he let out a chuckle, “letting Zoe do whatever the hell they’re into will get you more coke and gin.” He was mocking you, ruthlessly, with no signs of stopping, and without letting you get a word in. You were starting to see black spots in your line of vision.

“Well, fucking with me will get you much more, angel.” He finally let your neck go, letting you fall to the ground, left to look up at the devil in front of you.

“You fucking suck.” You glared at him, not necessarily trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. As it happened, you weren’t some innocent angel. No, you weren’t a sadistic maniac like Zeke, but you knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t necessarily vanilla. As if reading your earlier thoughts, he bent down to your place on the floor.

He slapped you, and it wasn’t gentle.

“You’re a sloppy whore on your best days, now get up and strip.” Well if worst came to worst, you could say that you got him where you wanted him…just not exactly how you wanted him, or with a guarantee you would get what you wanted out of him. Honestly, you felt kind of flattered by his attention and apparent need to fuck you.

“God, do I have to do everything for you, sweetheart?” Apparently you had been standing around catching your breath too long for his liking. He had made quick work of his own jacket, shirt, and dress pants, leaving him in a black pair of boxers. You hated admitting how magnificent he looked. He was muscular, but not in the same way someone like Reiner or Erwin was. Every single limb on him was lengthy and wiry, thus the bruise marks forming on your neck. While on the subject of length, from what you could see, it applied to his cock as much as it did his other appendages. If it looked that good through the black fabric, you couldn’t even dream of what it would look like out in the open, slapping against his defined v-line and abs.

You hadn’t even noticed him getting closer to you, completely forgetting about his earlier demand turned complaint.

“Not only are you a harlot, you’re a useless one, as well.” He came close enough for you to smell the hints of smoke, pine, and black tea that wafted off of him. He started playing with the collar of your shirt. “But damn if you aren’t a pretty one…” He said that more to himself than you, clearly not being comfortable complimenting you. He saw you as a toy, a pawn in his game of chess he was playing with the rest of the world.

You decided that would be your last deep thought as he began to undress you. Nimbly moving his fingers down each button of your dress shirt, until it came completely undone and bore your chest to him. You were by no means flat, which seemed to entertain the man in front of you.

“I knew you’d be the perfect slut for me.” He groped your breasts through your bra, hands greedy with the clear goal of making you yearn for him. “Perfect tits, soft skin, pretty face, nice ass, strong will. Yeah, you’ll be fun to break.” He gave you one of his signature smirks, making you want to crush his windpipe and deepthroat his dick at the same time.

You shrugged your top off your shoulders and let him snake his arms around your chest to undo your bra and expose your tits to the cool air of the room. He didn’t waste time kissing your filthy mouth, and instead skipped straight to your sensitive neck. He slowly dragged his soft lips down your throat, kissing his way over to both sides and under your jaw. He licked and sucked at any area that made you gasp or let out some embarrassing little noise you tried to desperately to hide. He hated how you hid, he needed you to need him, to want him at a level beyond human comprehension. He wanted to destroy you, do break you down to your most animalistic and pitiful form. You were strong, that was for damn sure, but he wanted to fix that.

He took all this into account as he began nipping at the tops of your breasts. He moved from one to the other with no clear pattern. He dragged his tongue down to your right nipple, only touching the tip of his tongue to it, making you shiver in anticipation and let out a small whine. Yes, that was the progress he wanted to see from you. He swirled his tongue around it, slowly making his way to the center, harshly sucking it into his mouth. He pulled his sinful mouth away from you, leaving a trail of saliva connecting him to you. He quickly made his way to your other nipple, doing the same and driving you just as wild.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to make more noise, darling.” He teased, sounding genuinely annoyed with you.

“Well, maybe if you did a better job, I would be louder.” You had discovered your talent of keeping up with his smart mouth, and you used it to your advantage. You wanted to rile him up; to get a rise out of him. As previously stated, you didn’t want a vanilla little love making session, you wanted to fuck.

“Alright then, if you’re so keen on keeping quiet,” he put his rough hands on your bare shoulders, pushing you back onto the ground, this time on your knees, “how about I stuff that mouth?” You hated how good he was at turning you on.

He pulled his dick out right in front of your face, letting it lay on his toned abs, just as you had envisioned it. It was easily 10 inches long, 5 inches thick, with a slight upturn that could drive you insane if it hit the right spots, which it would. It was flushed pink and dripping pre-cum; it was pretty.

“Well, are you just going to gawk at it or are you going to make yourself useful, slut?” The sweet pet names were out the window, swiftly replaced with the most debasing insults he could think of. To avoid any more of his smart ass remarks, you took his thick cock in your hands. You slowly stroked it, taking in exactly how big it was. You moved your plush lips closer, giving it a few small kitten licks to test the waters. You kissed the head and gave longer licks up the side, earning a grunt or two from the man above you. As you began to swirl your tongue around his tip, his strong hand came down and pushed on the back of your head. It wasn’t gentle, forcing you to take him down your throat. Considering his size, it was no shock that you choked on it at first, but he kept his hand on your hair, forcing you to stay on him.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep that dirty mouth on fat cock.” Tears starting pooling in your eyes as you struggled to breath around his length. “Aww, are you actually crying?” He cooed, taking sick pleasure in mocking you. “How pathetic of you, darling.” His words send shockwaves of shame and pleasure down to your core. You abhorred how badly you needed him inside of you. As he let out a low moan, he pulled you off his cock, tugging your hair just enough to make you even wetter.

“Alright, angel. I’m not a big fan of blowjobs, so we’ll leave it at that.” You coughed a little as he bent down to your heaving form.

“Really? That’s a shock.” That was your genuine reaction. You were far too fucked out to be a smart ass at this point.

“Yeah, you’re not the first to make that observation.” Much to your surprise, he picked you up bridal style, barely breaking a sweat in the process of getting you to his bedroom. Though the lights were on, you couldn’t take in many details, your cock drunk state making it difficult to process anything other than the warm, bare skin of the monster you tried so hard to vanquish.

“Now, lets get these cute little panties off, hmm?” You had forgotten him taking off your pants in the heat of the moment. His menacing figure loomed overtop of you, slowly sinking down to your thighs. He placed licks and kisses all over them, leaving a few bite marks along with them. You moaned louder than before, feeling too blissed out to care about your pride. You felt large, tepid fingers hooking themselves between your legs and into your panties. He pulled them to the side, wanting to really take you in. Despite his lust for power and dominance, he much preferred giving head to receiving it, especially when it came to women and their soft, tender pussies. You were no exception to this rule.

“Goddamn you’re fucking wet.” You looked up at you, making you lean your head back to avoid his gaze. “You must like me more than you care to admit, sweetie.” Just after saying this, he ran one long finger up your dripping slit, coating his fingertip in your slick. He looked at it shimmering in the low light of the room, grinning before taking it into his mouth and tasting what your cunt had to offer.

“You taste like heaven. Surprising, considering what a nasty girl you are.” Unlike you, he could keep that smartass act up for hours on end, no matter how lost in your sex he was. He landed a chaste kiss to your throbbing heat before flattening his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the middle. He began to devour you, making the lewdest noises you had ever heard in the process. You felt amazing, and disgusting, and just about every other emotion you had ever felt in your life. He was a god at eating your pussy, feeling no remorse in having his lips and beard dripping with your juices. To hell with the burn marks he left on your thighs and the burning sense of guilt you had for moaning so loud and creaming all over the face of your greatest enemy. Shame and guilt were for foolish children with no place in the world, Zeke wanted to enjoy every last second of destroying you.

As he continued to lick and suck at your most sensitive spots, you began to feel your stomach tighten, signaling your closeness. Zeke noticed as well, taking note of your erupting moans and groans and tugs at his silky hair. He moaned on your clit, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his face, arching your back of the soft sheets and making you scream his name. He kept his lips attached to your clit as you came down from your high, keeping you ensnared in his trap of bliss.

“God, you moan like a fucking whore, you know that?” The way he insulted you felt disgustingly good, especially coming from such a obnoxiously handsome man.

“And you eat pussy like a god.” The veil of hatred came off in one foul swoop. You couldn’t hold back how you truly felt about Zeke Yeager. You were in love with the way he treated you, and spoke to you, and ate you, and soon enough, fucked you. He was so damn good, and you just hated to love and loved to hate him.

“Oh, do I now?” He let out a low chuckle, taking pride in how helpless and stupid he had made you. “Does that make me your god, pet?” It wasn’t a real question. He knew the answer, and he loved that answer: yes.

“Now, how about I partake in some earthly pleasures and fuck your brains out, sweetheart?” He questioned, moving his arms up to rest on both sides of your head. His face was right above yours, lips hovering over your breathless, panting ones.

“Yes, please.” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you grew impatient and needy as all hell. Zeke had a sinister idea. God was a nice term, but he could think of a better one.

“How about you beg daddy for it?” He was such a disgusting pervert, and he relished in it. You mustered all the strength you could in order to speak.

“Please fuck my pussy, daddy.” That was all he needed to push himself inside your tight heat. Your walls clenched as he thrusted balls deep inside of you, not caring if you needed to adjust or not. Luckily, you didn’t, despite his size.

“Fuck yes, angel. You’re so goddamn tight.” He thrusted into you with reckless abandon, using you more than making love to you, which is exactly what you both wanted. Your walls clenched and throbbed as he brought you to orgasm once again.

“Cumming all over my cock, sweetheart? Such a dirty whore.” He teased, continuing his motions, hitting your g-spot over and over again without much issue. His dick was perfect, reaching every inch of you that made you scream out in pleasure and overstimulated bliss. All of this for a few bags of cocaine and bullets. You weren’t even thinking of that as he pounded into you, getting rougher and sloppier than before. He was getting close to his own high just as you were about to reach your third. No one had ever made you feel like this. You never wanted to let him go. Fuck everyone you cared about, this was too damn good to throw away.

“Where do you want my cum, slut?” He asked seconds before climaxing.

“Wherever you want it, daddy.” That was exactly what he wanted to hear. You had been molded into the perfect toy for him, even if it was just for the moment. He had debased and perverted you, like putty in his hands. You thought you could just waltz in there and take what you wanted from him. But no, instead you were writhing around on his bed with his fat cock filling up your pussy while you screamed for your daddy. You were filthy, slutty perfection. He quickly pulled out of you and shot his cum on your stomach and chest. Noticing you were still squirming around, he pushed his thumb to your clit and rubbed circles as two of his fingers entered you and hit your sweet spot.

“Come on, slutty girl, cum for daddy.” This time felt different than the others. You were completely out of your mind with pleasure and lust, and he was hitting just the right spots. You came around his fingers, squirting your juices and ruining his sheets. As if he could sense it, he had moved his face down just in time for it to reach his mouth, coating yet another layer of your cum on his beard. He licked his lips, savoring you taste and the blissed out, fuck drunk look on your face. He wished he could keep you like this forever. No, he would make sure to keep you like this forever. You were going to be his for the rest of time, no matter what it took. Even if he had to play the long game and pretend you had a choice in the matter.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m afraid you have to go home empty handed. I’m sure those tarts will just pat you on the head and congratulate you for trying your best. That’s why they’ll never surpass me, and that’s why you will come crawling back to me.” You couldn’t respond, too disappointed and drained to say a word.

“I have a shower that I recommend you use.” He looked down at you, your eyes hazy and barely focused on him. You were completely exposed to him. You looked beautiful. “In an act of civility, I’ll let you sleep here tonight. On a different bed, of course, considering the damage you’ve done.” You laughed at that, and he followed suite.

“You know Zeke, for a monster, you’re not too bad.” You looked at him, admiration clear in your eyes.

“You’re not too unbearable either.”

#aot smut #snk smut #zeke yeager smut #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager x reader #zeke jeager smut #tw: drug use #tw: alcohol

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monocaelia · 4 years

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oblivious [zhongli modern au]

[Zhongli x Reader] - Modern AU

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Being the secretary of Zhongli was… a new experience, that’s for sure. If you had known you’d be doing the most random things for the CEO of Rex Lapis Co., maybe you wouldn’t have applied for the job here. You’ve had to do many, many, different things that no other ordinary secretaries have done before; such as going personally to Zhongli’s apartment to wake him up in time for his next scheduled meeting or even tagging along with him when he had to fly out to the United States for a business trip (although it felt more like a vacation more than anything). You’ve even had to attend the wedding of an acquaintance with Zhongli as his plus one, which was a pretty weird experience in your opinion. Some people approached you then and asked if you were a couple, to which you vehemently denied.

You and your boss? Now, that’s a funny story.

Though… it’s not like you haven’t thought about the possibility of your boss and you being together. He was handsome, both personality wise and physically. He was tall and built, which surprised you considering you’ve never seen or heard of him working out as a hobby. Maybe it was a rich person thing to be built at all times. He was kind, extremely intelligent about a multitude of topics while at the same time being a clueless idiot when it came to social interaction. You found it endearing when he would come to you and asked questions about things that were common sense to you but foreign to him.

He always listened to you when you guys took your breaks together and you talked about your day, what was bothering you, or what you were excited about. Which was… surprising to say the least. You didn’t expect Zhongli to pay attention to your little life when he was literally living the lavish dream that anyone wanted. He always sent your stomach cartwheeling when he laughed at one of the stories you told or when he smiled when you talked about the video game you were currently into.

There was a moment when someone called you to help them during your break with Zhongli. They had knocked on his office door, completely interrupting the amiable atmosphere between the two of you, and politely requested your assistance, to which you agreed and bid your farewell to him. You could’ve sworn you saw him frown when you left him alone but as soon as it was there it was gone.

The thing that truly captivated you, though, were his eyes made of pure, molten gold. Although they’ve always been kind to you, you’ve seen them pierce those who talked against Zhongli or broke their promises to pay his company back. He was a stickler for promises and rules and he never took them lightly. They gleamed with danger and power when he was upset, but with you they were warm pools of honey that you could get lost in.

The multitude of random events that occurred because you were Zhongli’s secretary included the current errand you were running with your boss. The new year was coming by and Zhongli had decided that he wanted to go out and go shopping.

What for? He wouldn’t tell you.

You trailed slightly behind the taller man, making sure to not lose sight of him. You would have walked beside him so it was easier to converse but walking around with your boss was kind of intimidating and the crowd was heavier than usual. Did he really want to go shopping now of all times? You wished you were back in the safety of your own bed and not in the crowd of hundreds of people as they did last minute shopping for the New Year celebration.

“May I hold your hand?” The question almost slipped past you had Zhongli not peered down at you, expecting an answer from you. It was so nonchalant… did he understand the implications of that between two adults? You stared at him, wide eyed and mouth open in shock.

“U-um… Mr. Zhongli, why would we need to hold hands?” you questioned, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“I saw it in a drama I was watching. The main characters were holding hands whilst in a crowd so the two wouldn’t get separated.” Innocence danced behind his eyes. Oh Archons above, you have to stop finding this man endearing. “I thought it would be appropriate for this situation considering the amount of people around us.”

His reasoning was simple enough. It was just about not losing each other in the crowd, right? So, holding his hand shouldn’t be too bad. There was nothing behind his words and actions anyways, at least you hoped so.

Your hand slipped into his with ease, much to your surprise. Despite convincing yourself that this was just so the two of you wouldn’t get separated while on this trip together, you couldn’t help your heart thumping against your chest. His hands were gloved, but the heat still radiated off of him and warmed you up. His grip on your hand tightened when someone bumped into you and your heart nearly leapt through your chest.

The multitude of shops you two passed went by like a blur of flashing lights and the glow of city lamps. Well... that was until you got to a certain pastry shop. You paused in your step and stared into the window displaying the desserts and felt your mouth water at the sight of them.

“Ah, so this is what you’re into,” Zhongli spoke from beside you. Ah, you forgot he was there.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for sweet treats and this so happens to be my favorite bakery!” Your smile slowly fell. “But it’s pretty expensive so I can’t get any pastries often.”

Zhongli examined your fallen expression and furrowed his brows. He squeezed your hand once more. “Is that so…?”

And with that Zhongli walked into the shop with you in tow. You sputtered in surprise. He wasn’t going to do anything rash like buying you a dessert right? You tried to stop him, telling him that it’s okay and that he shouldn’t spend any money on you. But your attempts were futile against the brick wall that was Zhongli.

A cute, blue box of pastries was placed into your hands as Zhongli’s gentle smile grew on his lips. Archons… he had to stop smiling like that otherwise he could get away with anything if it involved you. You sighed and gave him a concerning look.

“Mr. Zhongli-”

“Zhongli, please. We’re not in the office, [Name],” he corrected you.

“...Zhongli, why did you buy me this? I could have done so in the next paycheck,” you queried. You held your head in your hands. “Actually… why did you pull me out today to do this? It almost feels like we’re…” You paused in your words.

“...It feels like we’re on a date, Zhongli.”

“Oh, I thought I made that clear, [Name].”

Huh? Did you hear that correctly? Is he telling you that this entire day at the shopping center was a scheme to pull you on a date? Your head snapped up to look into his amber eyes, only to be met with his curious and earnest visage.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Zhongli I thought I was doing this for work.”

A look of surprise ran across his face as his eyes widened at your revelation. He cleared his throat and brought a hand to his mouth. “Apologies. I thought it was clear but I see that it wasn’t.” Zhongli met your eyes. “I will make it up to you. How about we have a proper date next week?”

Your voice got stuck in your throat at his question, but shakily nodded your head. Zhongli smiled and moved to bring your hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss on your knuckles.

“Perfect. Now, shall we enjoy the rest of this evening together?”

#zhongli scenarios #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #zhongli fluff #genshin modern au #zhongli modern au #happy birthday geo daddy #and happy new year #i swear i'm not a zhongli stannie #didi writes

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robinrequiems · 3 years

Note

mmm more clishes.... Idk reverse background or personality kind of au? :/

ill do you one better 1 of my favorite mutual, reverse & personality au, they’re the same age bc I have a tiny idea *shy hands*

this is uh. a really long one thay started to lag my phone too

• oh god guys I got vivid memories of ra’s being a good grandfather and I can’t get it out of my head

• i hate it ur honor

• but ok. krypton didn’t get blown up, instead, they all migrated to earth, more specifically kansas.

• the kryptonians are angry and enraged, they are treated as if they are monsters when they arrived peacefully. they tried to kill them.

• so in return, the aliens killed the humans.

• they created a secret underground. that secret underground is to help aliens or meta humans and kill humans.

• all of them hated aliens and sought to destroy them. until kal el found a reporter trying to help aliens who were injured due to an explosion the government did to take out one of their bases.

• kal el.. fell in love with her. lois lane, she is an reporter fighting for alien rights.

• he met with her. in secret. and they.. had formed a connection. an amazing one.

• and then they had a baby.

• at the alien base, but.. she was human and people did not like that. so they wiped her mind and made her believe that they never had a kid. like the last few months.. wasnt real. she had gone missing those months since the aliens didn’t want her trying to hide the baby, they made her believe the last few months was spent in a coma and kal had found her and taken her to a hospital.

• he couldn’t see her anymore. he mourned for her lost presence, but they would have killed her if she stayed.

• but now they had precious jon el. he would be the highlight of their cause.

• they noticed his powers came in faster than kal’s, so they perfected his powers.

• he was going to bring humanity down on order of his grandfather, jor el

• kal saw his son break slowly. loses that childhood innocence that kal tried to maintain.

• his sons amazing bright blue eyes dulling, loses the spark that he cherished.

• kal was going to get him out of there, try to refuge the remaining childhood he had. even if it killed him.

—

• damian wayne! the bright bubbly and prodigal son of bruce and talia wayne ( b & t are married, suck my— ). the press loved him, he was just.. him. he was the baby and was cute, the cutest ever

• he was an expert in martial arts due to the training his grandfather, father, mother, & so much more gave him

• ra’s owns a farm. he’s.. sorry all i get is farm ra’s vibes due to.. something:) think endgame thanos, yk?

• he was the baby robin, one that you never messed with due to the herd of heroes who would come save him

—

• kalel left jon with Lois, a brief note explaining the current situation

• it was weird, jon was ten and was meeting lois for the first time

“Hi, honey.. I’m lois.”

“I know.. Dad told me about you.”

“Oh.. right. What do you want for dinner?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat.”

“No! I’m not hungry!”

• an explosive, superpower alien. Lois is way out of her head.

• he had outbursts, a lot of them. it was hard, really hard for Lois; she took some time off from the planet and focused on jon

• he broke a lot of stuff. he sometimes could not control his strength, but she was working with him

• but then one night he ran away, or flew away. he felt remorse for making Lois cry. she saw this as a win, but she lost her kid

• but then a little robin found him

“Um. Are you okay?”

“Huh-what- what do you want? Why are you talking to me?”

“Because you look sad? Yknow - hugs make people feel better. My ahki ( brother ) hugs me when I’m upset and it makes me feel better.”

“Don’t touch me.”

*Damian walked to him, smiling softly* “cmon, i won’t hurt you, silly. I’m robin.”

“A bird?”

“Haha- no, a vigilante- i sorta snuck out. My family can be a bit overbearing- and I sorta embarrassed myself at this theater thing.. some person—“

“Did I ask?”

“No.. sorry.”

“Hey— what are you doing - !”

“Hugging you.”

Jon won’t admit that he likes it, it’s different and weird, like this traffic cone in front of him. Jon pushed him off though, making himself stumble and fall on his ass.

“Ow..”

“Don’t touch me.” With rhat, Jon flew off into the night. Damian didn’t know who this boy was. But he intended on finding out. Even if it killed him. ( maybe not that extreme, but- )

• look damian was smart, right? smarter than average, and smarter than everyone in his school. teachers included ( ha ha )

• so he had to find this boy! so he started looking into aliens. until his family put an end to it

“Damian, this is dangerous.”

“But baba ( dad )”

“No. Go to your room.”

“Ugh!”

• he did slam his door shut if you were wondering

• he will find the mysterious alien boy, okay? he will!

• his brothers teased him and said he had a crush

• no he didn’t! the boy was really mean, he pushed damian- why would he do that? whatta jerk!

• but damian did find him again when he ventured off to metropolis to visit an old friend, colin.

“Alien boy!”

“That’s not my name, bird boy.”

“And that’s not mine. You didn’t tell me yours!”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s safer for you.”

“I can defend myself. You sound so silly, please tell me your name?”

“No.”

“‘Least the first initial?”

“Fine. J.”

“J it is.”

“Yours?”

“Wha- what? I told you my code named.”

“It’s only fair.”

“.. Okay. D.”

“D. Okay.”

• damian talked to him for a bit before jon did fly off when damian was talking about the stars, damian knew he was getting closer to him

• but he got grounded. whoops. he wasn’t supposed to go out

“Give me your phone, Damian.”

“What if I go out? I need a phone, baba.”

“I.. Your computer”

“School work.”

“Switch.”

“What! No- but-!”

“Damian.”

• yeah damian was very mad, but what made him madder was that apparently, his family was listening to the secret conversations between J and him. but d didn’t know that yet..

• his family needed to track down J, they didn’t care if people were aliens, the JL had aliens.. but they had no idea who this boy was, and the way damian was looking into the underground alien sanctuary, that worried rhem. Damian was smart and cunning, but he is able to portray an innocent persona, they all had the habit of undermining his intellect, so if damian began looking into this, it was for a reason

—

• jon found that D rambled. A lot. Even when jon didn’t respond. Jon doesn’t even know how D always found where he was. It’s so weird.

• but Lois noticed a change in jon.. he was. calmer. she didn’t know how, but when he went out, he came back calmer.

“I have to go to Gotham for a gala hosted by Bruce Wayne, would you.. like to come?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I’d like you to, but you don’t have to.”

“.. Fine.”

—

• lois walked to bruce with Jon in tow.

• “bruce.” “Lois, looking lovely as always.. who is this?” “Jon, my son. Say hi, Jon.” “Hi..” “He can hang around one of my sons— Damian, if you want? I’m sure him and his friends would love to have Jon around.” “What do you say Jon? Would you like that?” “Not really..” “I assume you, Damian doesn’t bite. Not anymore. And he’s pretty accepting.” “.. Fine.”

• damian was called over by his father and he did a double take. J. Was here. In front of him. Damian just internally shrugged and held a hand out, “Hi! I’m Damian! Wanna go play with my friends! there’s a game room so we don’t have to be with the gross adults.. you can also just.. sit there. My friends are pretty.. Loud?” “Okay.”

• jon had to take his hand back from damian since damian began eagerly tugging him.

“Damian seems to be accepting him pretty easily.” “I hope they can be friends, Jon.. doesn’t have any. I have only recently got him from his.. father.” “Odd, does he go to school?” “No, not yet, I’m still trying to get him adjusted.” “Ah.. Damian goes to West-Reeves. Maybe he could go there?” “That private school? Bruce.. I cannot afford that- not all of us are millionaires.” “Mhm.. I could pay.” “I can’t let you do that.” “He could get a scholarship.” “In what?” “Academics or athletics.” “Ill.. Talk to him about it. “ “well, ms lane, I just go talk with potential partners, I’ll see you later.”

—

• j got accepted into west reeves under a athletic thingy.

• that was cool. they became best friends!

• sorta

• flashforward 5 years to 15, their dynamic only grew. Damian told Jon his identity, jon didn’t become a hero, but did learn how to stitch damian up because tje idiot showed up bleeding a lot.

• everything was going great

On the phone, Damian: J! J! Guess what’

J: you’re so loud, D, what?

D: I got the lead! In the play!

J: no fucking way?

D: way!

J: Good j—— *crash*

D: J-?

D: J- Jonathan?

D: oh no.

• the call was ended abruptly. Jon always finished his sentences. Something was wrong. Something was really wrong.

• so damian called Lois quickly and ran downstairs to the batcave, lois wasn’t picking up either, she normally always picked up or at least sent a text. She did neither

“Baba!”

“Damian? You should be asleep.”

“Something’s wrong! Somethings really wrong!”

“Jon and Lois- Jon- I heard a crash- and- and”

“Habibi.”

“Mama?”

“Breathe; tell me what’s wrong.”

“I was on a call with Jon.. I told him about the play since I wanted him to go and stuff. Then I heard a crash. And then the line went dead. I’m scared— what if something happened!”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, what happened with Lois?”

“She didn’t pick up the phone— she normally does! Or she texts me and says she will call back!”

“Maybe she is asleep.”

“No! You need to believe me!”

“Damian, calm down, I do, we will go to see if they’re okay, you get back to bed.”

“No. I’m coming with.”

“No you arent.”

“But!”

“Listen to your father.”

• okay fine. He’ll listen, damian went back up to his room for half an hour before calling his friends to do a rescue mission. He had an extra suit in his room, he can do this.

• with his team, it consisted of shazam, abuse, nobody, and green lantern, himself too, of course.

• captain marvel picked him up once he was ready and they met up with the other 3.

Maya: you said he’s in trouble?

Dami: Yes.

Colin: than let’s go save him!

• they went and saved the bestie, nearly got killed too

• oh and now damians sorta probably grounded when batman shows up 🤡

J:You came for me..?

D:We all did.. why are you so surprised?

J: * wraps his arms around damian * thank you

D: i- yeah.. anytime. what’re friends for?

• friends. Jon liked that. Jon also liked the way Damian’s cheeks went red when jon hugged him

• jon knew he chuckled before Damian’s arms wrapped around him. hard. Damian was a hard hugger

• jon became a superhero at 16. Damian had even more of a reason to sneak into his window every night now! Lois had began thinking the two were dating

D: Us? Dating? Please! He is way too good for me!

L: awwww, gosh, how haven’t you been swept off your feet yet?

J: he has, but he has rejected them all

D: what can I say? I’m a gay theater kid ( this is a /j i promise a big big joke ) so they gotta be dramatic enough to put up with me, AND they need to do something big and bold to actually catch my eye

L: *laughs* take notes, jon

J: mom!

• jon has gone to a few of Damian’s plays and to dress rehearsals

• he was also there to watch damian wreck a car during his drivers test

D: there was a fricking squirrel there, J!

J: are you sure? maybe you’re just a shitty driver?

D: you’re a shitty driver!

J: cmon don’t pout

D: ‘m not!

• he was pouting. oopsie. jon did get him ice cream after

• jon goes by abnormal, because he’s an alien and because I don’t have any other ideas

J: this girl asked me out

M: oh? who! tell us!

D: ..what?

J: yeah, in my physics class

T: ooh! get it, jonno

M: give us a name, coward!

J: her name is Charlotte— but she goes by charlie. she’s.. different. red head. pretty freckles—

M: pretty freckles? does Jonny have a crush?! Oh my gosh, our sons growing up, Tai!

T: im about to start sobbing

J: fuck offff— D?

D: huh?

J: you’re being quiet, you plotting??

D: uh. yeah! duh- *he nudged jons shoulder with his, forcing a grin* figuring out ways to embarrass you in front of your girlfriend.

J: sucha brat- * jon ended up putting Damian into a playfully chokehold *

• damian just played along. he just smiled and watched as jon began walking with her instead of their friend group

M: hey- kid- you alright?

D: I’m onto a year younger than you Maya.

M: tou didn’t answer the question

D: I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be? You’re silly.

• tai ended up pulling him aside

T: when are you going to tell him?

D: how am I supposed to when he basically has a girlfriend now?

T: are you just gonna sit there and pine all day??

D: yes, thank you for understanding

• he’s a stubborn little shit and will absolutely not confess, his best friend is happy, who is he to ruin that?

T: he’s totally jealous.

J: so- do you- do you think it’ll work? That he’ll be surprised?

T: totally

J: thank you for lending me your girlfriend, Maya

M: anytime- not literally- you aren’t having her again

• this was all a trick, sorry, d.. jon does like you

• ( hope you all saw that foreshadowing earlier :) )

• damian needed big and dramatic. jon was gonna do that. even if he was uh. sorta aloof and shy.

• he learned how to sing and play the guitar for Damian. maya and tai were gonna scatter flower petals onto the floor for Damian to follow ( they will tell him too too )

• the whole school will probably watch as Damian finally gets a big dramatic proposal

• damian will love it

M: just follow the petals!

D: I’m confused

M: trust us

• damian did and followed the petals and low and behold, jon kent with a guitar and small smile

D: j-jon?

J: hey. I wrote you a song

D: no you didn’t

J: shut up and listen dumbass

*after that amazing song of how Jon asked damian out to homecoming*

D: that was amazing

J: dramatic enough for you?

D: YES! ( damian went and sprinted to jon, hugging him so tightly before leaning in to kiss him ) we are boyfriends now right

J: yeah, idiot

D: ur the idiot

• I can’t add anymore because myphones really laggy, I hope you enjot

#cliche asks #jondami #damijon #personality swap #Damian wayne #Jon kent #background swap

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miss-storytime · 3 years

Text

Trial by Time: Chapter 1

Summary:

When a Sludge villain attacks Bakugo on his way home from school he finds himself in a fight for his life. During his struggle against his assailant, the young teen discovers something new about himself that may be extremely useful in his hero career. However, something else interesting happens during his encounter with the villain, the actions of his Quirkless classmate Midoriya, who rushes to his aid.

What new secrets will be discovered in this chapter, and how does Bakugo really feel about the courageous idiotic intervention of his childhood friend?

*This is an Alpha! Katsuki x Omega! OC A/B/O fic, so if that is not something that you are interested in reading or something you don’t like feel free to keep scrolling. No hard feelings on my end. Hope you all who do read, enjoy the chapter!

Have a Fantastical Day,

~ Miss. Storytime, & The Librarian

!DISCLAIMER!

I do not own any of these characters except my OC, and parts of the storyline. Most of the characters and plot belong to the amazing Kōhei Horikoshi! I give him all of the credit of which he is due.

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

11 months ago… …

“Here’s the sad truth: All men are not created equal....”

“Is it possible to become a hero, even if I don’t have a Quirk!? I’m a normal

kid without any powers. Could I ever hope to be someone like you?”

“Can you be a Hero? Not without a Quirk.”

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

‘Damn it...Someone get this freak off me!’ Bakugo thought as he struggled against the binds of the Sludge villain holding him captive. His head was still spinning from how exactly he had gotten into this situation. All he knew was that he was walking home from school with his idiot friends in tow, and then he was being attacked by literal sewage.

‘This guy fucking reeks, I’m gonna smell like this for hours’, the heckles on Katsuki’s neck bristled as he let off another barrage of explosions. Looking around the ruined open-air shopping center Bakugo couldn’t find or think of anything that could help him escape. All he could see were the burning kiosks and storefronts, as well as the group of shoppers careening past him to avoid all the damage. The burning smell of smoke and fire filled the air and made breathing painful for the struggling teen. However, that wasn’t what was truly stressing Bakugo out, what really got under his skin was the crowd. They just stood there watching him like it was some sort of street performance; far enough away to keep themselves safe, but close enough to get a good view. It really pissed him off.

The scent of anxiety, fear, and concern radiating from the crowd was almost drowning out the smell of his burning surroundings, making it hard to focus. The mixture of alphas and omegas in the crowd alone was upsetting enough, all those competitors and potential mates watching him struggle like this was humiliating. Add on the irritating scent of the alphas, the distressed chirping and anxious smell of the omegas, and his instincts were bouncing off the walls. Ignoring them as best he could, Katsuki continued to pull and thrash against the slimy restraints of his captor. Using his quirk when he could in an attempt to escape Bakugo grew increasingly more frustrated, nothing seemed to be working. Every time he made a dent in the creep more goop took its place.

Slowly, Bakugo's vision began to tunnel down to a pinpoint, and he was becoming acutely aware of the rapid pounding in his chest. He was used to his alpha making himself known in less than ideal circumstances, but something about this was different. He could hear more than he thought he normally could, the sound of his own blood pumping through his veins thundered in his ears. The distant voices of the crowd gradually grew more clear, enough for Bakugo to make out what some were whispering to one another.

“It’s a monster…”

“This looks bad, maybe we should run?”

As if that wasn’t weird enough his sense of smell was getting increasingly more sensitive allowing him to pick up every note in the air. He was certain that if he focused he could pinpoint which scent belonged to which person; that is if the suffocating stench of his capture wasn’t all over him. ‘Where the hell are the heroes!? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up for...God whose smell is that, it’s really pissing me off!!’. Finally, the voice of a hero approaching stole Katsuki’s attention away from the frustrating smell.

“How dare you prey on a child!!”

Forcing himself to focus through his narrowed vision Bakugo saw the hero Death Arms charging at his attacker, and for a brief moment he felt some relief. However, whatever hope he had built up in those few seconds were quickly dashed when the hero made impact. Immediately it was clear that Death Arms was no more equipped to handle this freak anymore than he was, maybe even less so.

“What the hell is this? Some kind of goo?”

The hero wrestled his arm from the body of the slime and jumped back out of reach, careful to avoid further contact with the villain., while more pro heroes started arriving. Backdraft stood back away from him and the villain, putting out what fires he could while fencing off the onlookers with his quirk.

“Stay back, or I’ll snap his neck!”, the Villain laughed out tightening his hold on the blonde.

Something about hearing that triggered something deep within Katsuki, and all the accumulating panic was flushed from his system. A heavy lump started forming in Bakugo’s throat making it harder to breathe as it grew, and for a moment he felt that he was going to pass out. His vision broadened once again and his surroundings were overlaid in a reddish tint. The pounding in his ears overtook all other sounds as the weight in his throat burst forth from him in a roar.

“You picked the wrong guy to mess with!! I’m gonna send you back to whatever sewer you crawled out of!”

A feeling he had never known before crept up from his chest and filled his lungs and throat with a prickly heat as he surged forward against his restraints. Then he shouted at the Villain.

“Let me go!”

As he spoke he felt for a brief moment that he was in complete control of the situation. The pounding in his head quieted to a gently thrumming and he could swear the crowd watching fell into collective silence. For a second the binds holding him loosened enough for him to surge forward freeing one of his arms in the process. Almost as soon as he made progress the sludge returned with a vengeance, pulling his arm back in and wrapping around his mouth and nose. Bakugo continued to fight and thrash against the villain holding him as more heroes arrived on scene. His inner alpha creeping over his consciousness, pushing his instincts to the forefront of his mind. ‘Survive, even if you have to kill him’. And he tried.

Letting off the strongest explosions he could make, Katsuki pulled against the mess of slime surrounding him, occasionally pulling against his restraints hard enough to hurt his limbs. By the time Mount Lady and Kamui Woods arrived the young blonde was growing desperate, his skull throbbing painfully and his lungs were burning for air. ‘Damn it, am I gonna die on tv...what bullshit.’ Just as his vision dimmed to near-nothingness, Bakugo heard someone in the crowd cry out and he became aware of the irritating smell from earlier getting much closer. In fact, it seemed like it was right in front of him.

“No! You idiot! You're gonna get yourself killed!”

With the remaining strength he had Bakugo turned his head as best he could to see what was happening, and to his disbelief he saw his quirkless classmate, Izuku Midoriya, barreling towards him and the villain. Eyes wide and looking like he was on the verge of tears Midoriya spun and threw his backpack at the creature. Whatever happened after that must have done something, because the sludge surrounding his mouth dropped and Katsuki sucked in greedy gulps of air before speaking to the boy who was now digging, bare-handed, into the person holding him.

“What the hell?! Why are you here?!”

“I dunno, my legs they just started… moving. Kacchan! I couldn’t just stand there and watch you die!”

Midoriya continued to dig into the slime as Bakugo started fighting with renewed strength. As he fought, the now familiar heat filled his lungs and throat once again as he raged against his attacker with everything he had.

“Get the hell off me!!”

Feeling his attacker go stiff, and the restraints holding him relaxed once more Katsuki pushed forward just as before, except this time he felt he wasn’t pushing, so much as being pulled. A deafening BOOM rattled around in his head and made his teeth hurt. Temporarily disoriented, Bakugo wondered if he had in fact died. That is until the gentle feeling of a cool rain misted down on his head and now exposed limbs. Looking up he saw that the sky had clouded over and it had begun to rain, which he thought was odd. ‘I could have sworn it was just sunny...maybe I really am dead.’

As his head cleared and his hearing returned to normal he became aware of cheering. Looking around his surroundings he saw that him and his classmate were dangling a little ways off the ground, and the crowd that was standing behind the arms of Mount Lady were cheering. Finally regaining the sense to see why he was not standing on his own two feet Katsuki looked back from the crowd and saw the one person he never expected. ‘All Might....’ With the Sludge villain nowhere to be seen, and his idol standing before him, he knew it was finally over.

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

Or so he thought. Camera after camera and microphones brandished by overzealous reporters were shoved in his face, and Katsuki was at the end of his rope. If he didn’t get away from these people he was going to explode. Literally. Listening to anchors prattle on about what had just happened to him over and over again had him bristling. He was tired, hurting, and smelled like absolute shit. It was either his scent or his scowl that finally tipped them off, he didn’t care to know which, but he was finally able to get a ride home from one of the police officers that had arrived on the scene.

After the relatively short ride to his home, Katsuki stood outside the front door for a moment. ‘Deku…’ He thought, turning abruptly from his door and stomping down the street in the direction of his childhood friend’s house. ‘I really don’t want to have to thank him for anything, but he did… well he did something today that’s for sure.’ He continued to walk until his classmate came into view, however, the closer he got the more irritated he became. His mind fogged over and before he knew what he was doing his mouth was moving.

“Deku!”

“Kacchan w-”

“Listen I would never ask for a weakling like you to help me. Don’t think you can look down on me! Got that? I was fine by myself! You're just a Quirkless failure who won’t even cut it as a rent-a-cop. You didn’t help me, you did nothing. And don’t you forget it!”

After thoroughly ranting Katsuki turned and started back towards his house as fast as he could, and like usual the further he got from Deku the clearer his head became and the calmer he felt. ‘Shit...that’s not what I meant to say at all. What the hell is wrong with me. I’m always doing dumb shit like that with him...fuck.’ Sighing, Bakugo stomped up the stairs to his house and opened the door, slipping his shoes off before walking inside. The first thing he noticed was the smell. The scent in the house was off, and it really irritated him. He just wanted to come home and have as normal an evening as he could, after a shower or five of course. His dad smelled like a nervous wreck, all chirping and anxious in the main room, so when the door closed behind him Katsuki wasn’t surprised to see his dad already starting towards him.

“Katsuki! Oh, Katsuki, your home! Your mother and I were worried sick! Are you ok, do you need anything? We saw what happened on the news, tell me can I get you anything. Like maybe food or or-” stopping to sniff the air his father wrinkled his nose and brought Bakugo in for a hug. “How about a bath? I bet that sounds good right now hu?”

At the best of times, hugs like this upset the teen, but the tightness of his fathers embrace got under his skin and he wiggled away as fast as he could.

“Oi! Get off of me old man, I’m fine! I can get my own bath!!”

It was then Katsuki noticed his mother approaching him, arms crossed as she stopped just in front of her young son. With her eyes narrowed Mitsuki took a deep breath before lifting her son's chin and turning his head from side to side. Brushing through his hair down both of his shoulders with her hands before closing her eyes and kissing him gently on the head. She lingered a moment before stepping back, red-faced and avoiding eye contact.

“He’s fine Masaru… I bet he’s hungry though, why don’t you go get us something to eat? We missed dinner watching the news.”

His father glanced between the two before nodding and starting down the hallway towards the kitchen. Bakugo sighed, knowing something was coming if she wanted to be alone with him.

“Look if your gonna yell at me I’m really not in the mood I’m tired and I want to go to b-”

“Go take a bath and then meet me out here. We need to have a talk.”

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

After taking a rather long soak and scrubbing himself a little too hard with scent-free soap, Bakugo felt clean enough to change and return to the living room. He was tired and grumpy, but something about the way his mother had treated him earlier made it a little easier to move. Although, if he was honest with himself, it also scared the shit out of him. ‘Wonder what’s going on now.’

Rounding the corner into the living room the smell of food hit his nose and his stomach replied eagerly. His father had set up one of the tables in the living room and on it sat a large dinner. All Katsuki’s favorites. Bakugo kneeled next to his father, across from his mother and mumbled his thanks before he began filling up his bowl when his mother spoke.

“All Might was here earlier.”

Bakugo froze, his head shooting up to meet his mothers eyes. “All Might wa-!” Mitsuki gave him a pointed look and he huffed, sitting back on his heels

“All Might was here earlier today, and he told us a little bit about what went on today. He said some rather interesting things happened between you and that villain. Did you know that he was an Alpha Katsuki?”

“Of course I did, anyone can smell that shit.”

“Language Katsuki.” His father interjected quietly, filling up his son's bowl with an outrageous amount of food. Chirping happily as he did the same for his wife.

Watching her husband for a moment Mitsuki continued, “Well according to All Might, your voice seemed to work on him a little bit, the villain I mean Enough that you were able to almost get away on a few occasions.”

Bakugo was silent for a moment, letting his mother’s words roll over in his head. As far as he knew he didn’t have a voice yet, unless…

“Was that what that heat was? In my throat I mean, it felt all prickly and heavy.” Mitsuki closed her eyes and sighed before responding.

“Yes, just my luck you’d come into it now. It’ll only feel like that for a little bit though, after a while it’ll be as easy as talking. Anyways, I saw the news Katsuki, your voice did have an effect on that villain today. The news has seen it, they won’t shut up about it. It was so obvious that All Might came down to ask us if we knew that you were an Apex.”

“Seriously I can’t believe All Might came here to talk to you two losers while I was out to thank D-... an Apex? All Might thinks I’m an Apex.”

“We know you are. At least we know now anyway, your father and I have tossed around the idea for a while. I was hoping not though, you’ve got a big enough ego as is-”

“Ego!! What the hell does that mean old hag! Just cause I know I’m amazing doesn’t mean I have an ego!!”

They bickered back and forth with one another for a while until Masuru huffed loudly and looked between the two.

“No more fighting, not after today.” His father looked over at his mom, “We said we weren’t going to do this tonight, Mitsuki. You promised.” His mother took a deep breath and nodded while maintaining eye contact with her son.

“Fine, fine. The brat gets a pass tonight, but let me be very clear.” She leaned forward and took her bowl, giving Katsuki a pointed look as she spoke. “You may think you're all tough shit now that you're an Apex, but pull that voice on me and I’ll beat your ass. I’m still the alpha of this house and your mother. Got it?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes and grunted his agreement, taking a deep breath through his nose as he brought the bowl up to his lips to hide his smile. ‘The house smells right now’, placing the bowl back down Bakugo sighed and settled in to dinner with his family.

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

Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, I had a lot of help from my close friend on this one. If you liked it please leave a heart, and maybe leave a comment? I’d love to hear from you guys. As I always I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I hope you all have a great life.

Remember,

Keep Dreaming,

~ Miss. Storytime, & The Librarian

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pearl-blue-musings · 4 years

Note

Hi, yes, um..

May I please have a steak mediun well with some fries and broccoli? I know this is odd but can you douse my steak in some Soy Sauce? (Sero?)

Oh yes yes yes I can in this house we love soy sauce on our steak

I’m sorry it’s not as long as some of the other requests

Pairing: Sero Hanta x fem!reader let’s smoke and forget our feelings unless??

Warnings: drug use, fluff, angst, mentions of blood, mentions of death, some bad use of Spanish endearment (my sky, my sweetheart, my love, my heart)

Enjoy your meal~

~~~~~~~~~

The last few years of your life seemed to pass by quickly. You hadn’t thought that college would have the major impact on your way of being until it was almost over and you were thinking of your future. Rather, who would potentially be there with you in your future.

Shutting down your laptop, you stretch your arms above your head and pick up your phone. Your senior thesis was finally done and you had emailed it to your professor, and you grunt at the task being done. A project that had taken you months was finally completed and you’reone step closer to graduating. You spot a text message from your best friend and one person you figured would be in your future. Sero Hanta has been in your life for as long as you could remember, but you didn’t become close with him until you began university. The lanky boy, no man, had weaved his way in and out of your life for years and now it seems that he might be tying up the strings.

His text, as per usual on Sundays, asked if you were free to chill and light up. You smiled and responded eagerly, knowing that this is for sure the thing you need to relax after all your hard work. The phone buzzes with a confirmation from Sero and you begin to get ready to leave. Most of the time, you end up staying the night so you pack an overnight bag and your laptop, incase you have to do any correspondence.

The drive to Sero’s apartment is short but enjoyable. The weather outside starts to shift from winter to spring, flowers blooming and the sound of buzzing insects has returned. You really do love U.A. university in the spring, you’re upset you graduate in a few weeks so you’ll have to enjoy it as much as you can while you’re here. Although certain parts of your future are set, you can’t help if you’ll be lonely in your post college endeavors.

Once you’ve parked your car, you walk up to the already unlocked apartment, up two flights of stairs and the third one to your left. You know everything about his space and his roommates, but it seems to be just him in the apartment as his friends all have other plans.

You don’t have to make yourself known as you enter, already slipping on your special house slippers. With your bag in tow, you head straight for Sero’s room. Upon opening the door, you see he’s spread and rearranged things to accommodate his three-person hammock. He usually does this when it’s just the two of you smoking, making it more intimate. The setting sun outside lights the room with a special glow, adding to the ambiance of the young man’s room.

“Mi dulzara, how are you? Finished your thesis right?”

You fight the heat coming to your cheeks at the term of endearment and slowly nod. Sero cheekily smiles at you and finishes rolling the joint you’re no doubt going to share. “I got this from Shinsou and Denki, so you know it’s the good shit, bebe.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his expression. You also do your best to ignore the way his hands look working the drug into the paper and how his fingers flit with the collar of his shirt. You slap your cheeks in attempt to stop your mind from wandering. He’s your friend, your best friend and you shouldn’t think of him in any other capacity. And besides, he for sure doesn’t have feelings for you. Nope, not at all.

You don’t realize that his eyes never left your visage, doing his best to keep his giggles to himself as he notices you slap yourself. He shakes his head and slides into the hammock. Arms open wide, he waits for you to catch him in his impatient pose.

“Stop overthinking and come here, that’s what you’re here for, mi cielito.” You turn yourself toward him and grin at him and his childish antics. Sero always knew how to take you out of your mind. You make your way to the hammock and sit yourself down, adjusting to the weight distribution of it. Once comfortable, you inch closer to Sero’s body and lean into his chest. His arms secure themselves around you possessively. You feel him breathe deeply and that action itself is almost enough to lull you to sleep.

His arms adjust slightly so he can reach the lighter on the window sill to light the joint in his teeth. For better access he lets the lighter fall near his lap so he doesn’t have to reach too far and disturb you too much. The way you fit so well in his arms, how comfortable he is around you to be himself, to truly be himself is a feeling he isn’t willing to give up any time soon. Sero is aware you have job offers lined up after you two graduate and he doesn’t want to hold you back but… He’d be an idiot to at least not try to make things work out. And now that your life has calmed down slightly, he thinks he’ll finally tell you.

Sero passes you the joint after he feels the smoke enter his lungs, good feelings happening all over. Once you take it, you inhale deeply wanting to feel the immediate effects in order to really relax. When you exhale, you hand the joint back to the man you’re cuddling and play with his fingers hovering near your face. His fingers always felt nice, and so did his palms. Sometimes you two would hold hands but it never went beyond that. Is that what you wanted? Is that what he wanted?

“(Y/n), cielo, what’s on your mind?”

You feel his breathe skate across your nose, almost forgetting how close you two were. The hand you’re holding grabs yours and rubs comforting circles on the back of it. You sigh and ease more into his touch. “The future.”

“A scary place.”

“But does it have to be?” You turn up to face him and the way the sun is hitting him makes the man in front of you look ethereal. Almost like he doesn’t belong to this plane of being. You’re struck dumb for a couple seconds as you’re caught in his gaze. You hadn’t realized your breath had gotten shallower until his face is inches from yours in concern.

“Are you okay? Anything I can help with, well other than sharing my hard earned weed with you?” That makes you laugh. Just being able to make you laugh with your mind full is rewarding. Knowing that he’s the one making you feel better increases his heartbeat. The way your eyes look right now, the lights in his room, the soft music playing, he’s starting to realize that this is the moment, his moment. He scavenges for the lighter, and goes for another hit.

When he releases the smoke away from you he pulls you close. You start to clear your throat to formulate the right words. “Hanta, I’m scared.” You see his gaze shift to one of confusion. “I’m scared, of this ending.”

He passes you the still lit joint and waits for you the breathe in before responding. “You mean our friendship? I’ll always be your friend, (Y/n). You know that.”

You shake your head. “No, not that…” you trail off, feeling more and more embarrassed, “I mean, when we leave here we won’t be near each other.” You want to hide your face but since you’re in a hammock, you bury your face in his chest.

“Mi amor.” His voice is low as he puts the lighter and joint on the window sill. He takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

The tip of his thumb barely traces your bottom lip. Maybe it’s the drugs but you want to blurt out what’s on your mind right now.

“I love you, don’t you know? You’re the only one I can and want to do this with.”

You weren’t expecting him to cut you off. “What?” you breathe out. There’s no way he does, right? This has to be a mistake. It’s the drugs, yeah that’s it. “Hanta, it’s the drugs you don’t mean that.”

Sero leans in slowly, his lips grazing yours and the feel of his breath across your lips sends shivers up your spine. “Yes I do, corazon. I’ve loved you for so long.” He closes the distance and kisses you, tongue exploring yours. You kiss him back in earnest, reveling in the feeling of his lips on yours. You breakaway to breathe and all you can see and feel is Hanta.

His hand rests on your hip comfortably as you two just stare at each other. Finding your voice, you declare, “I love you too Hanta. I’m not sure how long though.”

He chuckles and kisses the edge of your mouth, “the amount of time doesn’t matter, mi amor. I just know that I want to be around you all the time. Wherever you go, I go.” He tangles your legs together as you snuggle back into him, his head on top of yours.

“You’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Those words repeated like a mantra in your head as you lay on the ground. The spring rain and bellowing of sirens blares around you, making your thoughts and head more clouded. What had happened? What was going on? Why can’t your body move? Your eyes drag to the puddle next to you mixed with rain water and something else. Blood?

Oh right.

You’re dying.

That’s right.

Suddenly it hurts to breathe as you cough up blood. Words of people around you blur as you look for anything, anyone, familiar in this cloud of strangeness. What had you been doing?

Oh right.

Picking up food for you and Hanta for the week.

You had been promoted and he had a surprise in store for you on your way back home. Has he texted you or called? You’re not sure as you can’t feel much of anything. That car had come out of nowhere, ignoring the rules of the road. You were so happy to find a place that was within walking distance of your job and necessities. But it all seems pointless now.

Tears begin to fall from your eyes as paramedics just now get to your body, asking you questions but nothing registers. A crowd forms and you wonder if Hanta is warm in your apartment. Is Hanta aware? Is he okay? Will he be able to eat for the week? How will he survive without you?

Oh god you’re dying.

And now the tears fall faster as your heartbeat slows. The nurses try to help you, but you do manage to hear “too much blood loss” and “broken bones”. Will Hanta be okay? Will Hanta be okay? Will Hanta be okay?

“(Y/n)!!”

His voice, clear as day breaks through. You wonder if it’s all a dream, is he the light they tell you to avoid? You want to go to it. You see him clearly, fighting the police lines and medics barring him from entering the crime scene. You’ve never seen him cry and you never want to see it again. You want to comfort him, tell him it’s all okay. Where’s his umbrella? He’s going to get sick. You raise your arm toward him, but that takes the last bit of strength you had keeping you in this realm.

The last thing you hear are his wails of pain as he feels the strings connecting you both being aggressively pulled apart, as the medics on scene cover your body.

~~~~~~~

I’m sorry

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #my writing #i did the thing #sero hanta #sero x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hanta sero #hanta sero x y/n #sero hanta x reader #sero hanta x you

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Note

Hi Nutty. I span the random whump generator and this is what I got. Character = Alan please 😁

I dunno if there was much whump in this, but there was something :D I hope you enjoy it :D

Spin the wheel and send me a prompt :D

-o-o-o-

Well, this just sucked.

Alan fiddled with the restraints holding him to a bulkhead. Nope, not a thing he could do about it.

Other than him, the room, more a cargo hold than anything else, was empty except for an airlock door on the far side.

Why couldn’t he be kidnapped by an idiot? These ones had actually removed his baldric and his helmet, effectively cutting him off from Thunderbird Five.

Except for the tracker in his wrist, but they didn’t need to know about that.

The nerve, though. He was out here to help. He had thought he was saving a private space yacht that had engine trouble and was making a good attempt at colliding with a satellite or two.

But no, it had all been a trap. Probably to get a hold of his ‘bird.

Why couldn’t the bad guys make their own Thunderbirds and stop messing with theirs.

Oh, yeah, technology and all.

Then go invent your own technology, you assholes, and leave us alone.

Alan gave his restraints another tug and grunted as they bit through his uniform.

Of course, the astronaut in him was having a mild fit. He was stuck in an unknown craft of unknown safety specs with people who undoubtedly did not have his best health in mind, and he had no helmet.

He might as well be naked.

No, don’t give them ideas, you idiot.

Okay, focus. He had his training.

And he had his brothers.

While he had no wish to worry said brothers it was kind of reassuring to think exactly what those brothers might do to the persons responsible for this. If there was one thing he could say, it was that he was ever so proud of his family.

Scott would be pissed. That had both its positives and its negatives. There would likely be tactical scenarios in the future to prevent this from happening again. Scott was all about prepared and strategic readiness.

Couldn’t blame him really. The list of incidents in his brother’s resume was extensive. No doubt, Scott had learnt the hard way.

Now Virgil, Virgil was the softy. He smiled to himself. His tank of a brother was almost as much a worry wart as their eldest brother. He was less likely to get angry, but when he did, the whole house knew about it and avoided him. Only Scott and occasionally John would weather a Virgil snit, simply because it was terrifying. Add the list of equipment the engineer had at hand and buildings had the potential to be reduced to rubble. Nah, you didn’t want to piss off Virg.

But then there was John. No one, just no one dared rankle his middle brother. Alan snorted. John was the quiet one, and that fooled a lot of people. To their detriment. Gordon...it was always Gordon...had once taken a step too far and his music streaming still hadn’t recovered...six years after the incident. There was still whining. John just raised an eyebrow and smiled that gentle smile of his and flickered out.

Bit hard to chase a brother down who was literally thousands of miles away, yet had access to every personal detail, ever digital print, every part of your life.

Not that he didn’t trust John. No, he trusted him with his life, but hell, you did not want to piss him off.

The ship around him suddenly shook and Alan found himself thrown against the bulkhead. A grunt as his suit armour took the brunt, along with his shoulder guards.

These guys were really starting to piss Alan off, much less his brothers.

The ship stilled again and he was left wondering what the hell was going on. What did they want?

He pictured his next eldest brother beside him and the smart ass grin that came with the image. Gordon. Alan couldn’t help but smile. Gordon could be an ass, but he was an ass who was always on your side. The two of them had done so much...often to the ire of the above three brothers, but that just made it more fun.

Alan found himself grinning and he wondered if the assholes had a camera on him. Good luck to them if they did, because Gords was always going to make him smile.

His fish brother was amazing. Alan had seen him go through absolute hell, but his spirit was ever so strong. Alan admired Gordon. He was a role model.

That had him snickering. Scott’s frown at that thought was hilarious.

But it wasn’t the pranks - though they were hilarious - it was Gordy’s view on life. His ability to keep smiling, stay in the positive, even when everything was absolute shit.

That was a thought for right now. Chained to a bulkhead in a strange ship, possibly abandoned, possibly kidnapped. What would Gords do?

A snort. Put jello in their knickers before kicking their asses out into space.

But Gords wasn’t a fan of space, was he? But his bro was brave and would kick ass anyway.

That was Gords.

Alan swallowed. Would Gords be as scared as he was at the moment?

Possibly.

But he would kick ass anyway.

Like Kayo.

Kayo.

You never pissed off Kayo and lived. Again it was Gordon who had tried exactly that. At the time, Alan had thought his brother was upset. That could be the only reason for tempting death.

He’d been partly right.

The dye in Kayo’s shower rose had prompted her focussed attention. She had cornered Gordon and the next thing Alan knew she had thrown his brother so hard around the spar mat he had bruises.

Which led to a Scott lecture of epic proportions. The smile on Gordon’s face had said so much more.

Alan still questioned his fish brother’s sanity.

And admired him for his bravery.

The whole ship shook around him and Alan startled.

The door on the far side of the bay stayed closed.

Scott, where are you?

And there was the truth of the matter. Scott had been his go to for so long, he was the default he yelled for when he needed help.

He would love to see him walk through that door.

Hell, he would love to see any and all of his brothers and his sister put a fist in these assholes’ faces and set him free.

Honestly, it wasn’t a matter of if, more of when. You don’t piss off a Tracy.

Any of them.

Because they would all kick your ass.

Even the littlest.

Alan straightened where he floated. Yes, he would kick necessary ass anytime. He may be the littlest, but he was a damned astronaut, he knew stuff.

The restraints were still too damned tight.

The door on the other side of the room suddenly hissed and cracked open.

Alan spun and readied himself. He was not going down without a fight.

A familiar blue helmet peered through the door. “Alan?”

“Scott!”

And his big brother was there. A laser cutter and he was free and enveloped in a strong hug. “Hey, Allie.”

Before he knew it, he was being towed towards the door.

“How? Who?” He swallowed as Scott shoved the door wider and pushed him through. “What?”

But the answer was there before him.

Virgil was hovering in the space version of his exosuit, monitoring a forcefield over a massive hole in the side of the spacecraft’s cockpit.

Gordon and Kayo had three men hanging upside down from the ceiling wrapped in so many restraints, breathing appeared optional.

And John was muttering to Eos as he hovered over the controls of the craft. There was snarling.

Oh, dear.

“Here, we found these.” Scott’s hand hadn’t left his shoulder, but his other hand suddenly had Alan’s baldric and helmet hovering in front of him.

“I...”

There was a hum as a scanner was whisked over him from the direction of Virgil.

Scott’s eyes questioned the engineer, but he must have received the info he needed because a second later those eyes were once again trained on Alan.

As Alan took his baldric and snapped on his helmet, both of Scott’s hands landed on his shoulders. “You okay?”

There were so many eyes trained on him at the moment.

Alan straightened. “Yeah, I’m good.”

One of the bad guys whimpered and Gordon prodded him.

Blue eyes flickered but didn’t leave Alan. “Three is secured, though John is not happy.”

Another snarl issued from his red-haired brother.

Alan arched an eyebrow.

Those hands squeezed his shoulders. “Let’s get you home.”

Alan stared at his four brothers and his sister and smiled.

“I’m driving.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #alan tracy

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keytomythoughts · 3 years

Text

Perfection Imperfections | Chapter 1

Chapter Index

»»—————————————-　

Finally, summer break. It’s been a while since I was able to go home. Having to attend high school rather far from my home in Seoul, I never thought that I’d adjust to the new environment. Fortunately, I wasn’t entirely alone, since I stayed with my aunt for the four years of my high school life. School wasn’t so bad, but the homesickness is what killed it for me. Even though it was my parents' idea to send me a rather vast distance—me not being too excited about it, but I knew I wouldn’t get my way in the end—there was some good that came from it. The two only good things, actually.

I glance outside the train window, the buildings of Busan zooming past me. Sure, it may not be my home, but I won’t lie. I’m really going to miss this place. My phone suddenly vibrates in my lap, glancing down to see a text from my group chat, smiling as I respond.

(Binnie)

R u still on the train?

Yeah have been for the past like 30 mins

(Eunuwu)

Going back to ur parents? Or r u moving out?

Funny

Yk I can’t move out, at least not on my own. My parents won’t allow it

(Binnie)

What about Jaehyun?

Idk, they rlly dc what he does tbh

They’re just hell-bent on me getting into the top schools and shit

(Eunuwu)

Damn, rough

Mhm

(Binnie)

Try talking to them, u never know

They might change their minds?

Nah, I already know how it’s gonna end

Me crying and stuffing myself with pints of ice cream

(Eunuwu)

Doesn't sound so bad

(Binnie)

¬_¬

(Eunuwu)

Except for the crying part ofc

But c’mon it cant really be THAT bad

I’ve been over plenty of times, they seem nice

(Binnie)

U’ve been to her house??

Yeah him and oppa are friends too

(Binnie)

Righttt forgot lol

And that’s bc you were there dumbass and half of the time ur either in oppa’s room or out somewhere

Interaction with my parents = minimal

(Binnie)

That sounds awful ngl :( sorry Hyuna

But hey we should all hang soon!

(Eunuwu)

I’ll be in Seoul for the summer too so y not?

I miss y’all :’(

Ok I should be there around like 5 ish so I’ll text then

(Binnie)

Aww I miss u toooo

(Eunuwu)

*puke*

Shut up, ur just jealous

(Eunuwu)

Me? Jealous?? Of what, ur face?

Yea no thx, Ive got a great face already

And personality 0:)

Gr8, explains why ur still single

(Binnie)

LOLL

She got u there bro

(Eunuwu)

Shut up

Ur talking as if u’ve got a gf

Idiot

(Binnie)

At least I didnt reject them as coldly as u did lol

See? My point exactly

Your fAcE scared off every girl in sight bc of tht pErSoNaLiTy

I almost feel bad for them, u little heart breaker

(Binnie)

He made a couple of em cry I heard

Rlly?!?

YAH

U MORON

(Eunuwu)

Bin wtf

(Binnie)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

U JERK HOW COULD U??

Those poor girls omg

Im so kicking ur ass when I c u

(Binnie)

Me 2

(Eunuwu)

Wtf?? Y???

(Binnie)

No reason lol, just feel like it

And this is why ily Binnie

(Binnie)

:D <3

(Eunuwu)

GROSS

Can it u demon

Read 4:02 PM

I snort, turning off my phone and placing it back down on my lap as I go back to staring outside my left-hand window again. Meet Cha Eunwoo and Moon Bin, my two best friends. The only reason I got through high school how I did without major setbacks. Sure, there was the occasional homesickness and all, but had I not met these two, I probably wouldn’t have even attended and graduated.

Being so far away from the place I grew up never really suited me, and they saw it right away from day one how lonely and upset I looked. I didn't seem to fit in, especially since I skipped a grade and was placed in classes that were very advanced for me. Not that I minded the vigor, but it was hard for me to socialize, let alone make friends.

That’s when I met them. Freshman year in homeroom before my first literature class. Moon Bin, a boy with parted, coppery-golden hair accompanied by his shy, puppy-eye smile and sweet nature, offered me an empty seat next to him in class, even going as far as to share his textbook and asking how I found the school. No doubt, I was embarrassed and immensely shy, stuttering over my words and failing to meet his soft gaze. However, he didn’t make fun of me nor find me odd. All he did was smile, laughing lightly at my slightly flustered state. He stuck his hand out, introducing himself (most people just call him Moonbin or Bin) with that smile of his, thus the start of our new friendship. Since then, he became someone who always knew how to cheer me up when I was feeling down. No moment was ever dull with him by my side.

Eunwoo, the tall, brooding black-haired and charismatic student almost everyone knew (and crushed on) of, was usually with Moonbin when we hung out together, but he normally kept to himself. Though quiet and sometimes reserved with his intimidating looks, it didn’t take long for him to break the ice with us, the three of us becoming close friends. Promising to stay like this until we went to college and beyond. Regardless if we all diverge and tread different paths, we would always converge and come back to one another.

Four years flew by and graduation was upon us. Just like that, the two became like family to me, my ride-or-die duo. The two who were able to turn my world upside down, finding solace in a time where I thought it was nearly impossible for me to.

My thoughts are interrupted by my “Move” ringtone—yes, I’m a huge Lee Taemin fan—looking down at my phone again to see it’s my brother calling. I sigh, picking up the call.

“What?”

He gasps dramatically. “Is that any way to address your loving older brother after being away for so long?”

I snort, shaking my head. “Loving my ass, oppa. How are mom and dad?”

“They’re fine, living. Didn’t you tell them you’re coming home?”

“Nope, I don’t even text them that often. You already know this..”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured.”

There’s a slight pause on his end, but he continues. “You took the three-thirty train, right? So you’ll be here around five or so?”

“Yeah, give or take.”

I look out the window again to see the endless stretch of greenery and flowing springs, sometimes even children playing in the fields. I grin mischievously, deciding to poke fun at my brother when he doesn’t respond right away.

“What, you miss me?”

He makes a sound similar to throwing up. “As if. I got so used to the peace and quiet. I’m not ready for it to go away.”

“Yah!” I realize that I had yelled a bit too loudly and eyes were now trained on me, and I bow my head in apology. I lower my voice, “You’re such an asshole.”

“Oh, I know, but you still love me anyway.”

“Shut up.”

I can hear his laugh resonate through the phone and a smile unknowingly tugs at my lips. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but it’s true. When I lived with my aunt in Busan for the duration of high school, I missed Jaehyun a lot. Though two years older than me, he didn’t seem to alienate me the way my parents do. While I hate the notion that they spoil Jaehyun endlessly and let him do as he wishes, I won’t lie and say that he was a prick about it. He could’ve been, but he never came off as selfish. I’m really close with my brother, shocking as it may be. Sibling relationships are like that—one minute you want to strangle them with their intestines and the next you’re singing duets together. Crazy, but that’s how it is for us. My parents don’t really pay me any attention, so Jaehyun decides to do that instead. Not complaining though. I’d rather take his pranking and teasing over my parents’ demands and reprimands any day.

“Aight, I’m heading out for a bit. Text me when you arrive.”

I smile again. “Will do, but make sure to get me food!”

“Let me think…” He hums, and I can practically sense the smirk on his end. “Nope. Get your own.”

“Oppa!”

Jaehyun laughs. “See you in a bit, Hyuna. Get here safely. Bye!”

He hangs up the call before I get a chance to retort, and I scoff. Typical of my brother. He knows how much I enjoy street food, and every time he goes out, it’s almost certain that most of the time he stops somewhere to eat. Did he ever bring food back? Sure, but by the time I’d get to it, most of it was gone anyways. That only lasted a little while before I had gone upstate anyways, so he had more food for himself, I guess.

As the train barrels down the tracks, I feel my heart racing in excitement, but there’s also a slight ounce of dread. I really don’t know why. I want to believe it’s because I’ve been away for too long, but part of me knows it’s the fact that I’ll have to face my parents again. Knowing that I only have two months to decide where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, I know the bitter truth is that those decisions won’t be left up to me. Last time, I was sent to Busan.

God knows where I’d be sent to now.

***

“Final destination of the KTX Busan-Seoul train at Seoul Station is approaching and will arrive at 05:30 PM. The doors to alight are on the right hand side. All passengers are requested to dismount the train upon arrival. Thank you.”

That’s my stop.

Gathering my bag and hand luggage, I patiently wait for the train to pull up at the station. Seeing the familiar shops and buildings around me makes my legs bounce up and down in both excitement and anticipation.

Four long years away from Seoul...

Before getting off, I quickly text the group chat and then my brother, letting them all know that I’ve reached safely. Side-stepping the other passengers exiting the subway doors, I carefully land onto the platform with my luggage in tow. I breathe in the air around as I stretch my arms up into the sky, the grin widening on my face.

It sure as hell feels good to be back home.

I try my best to maneuver through the crowds, but it doesn’t stop the rush of people knocking into me. At times like these, I curse my genetics for favoring my older brother instead of me in terms of height. Eventually, I come to a clearing and when my eyes glance upwards, I spot a rather familiar dark brown-haired six-foot-tall male amongst the small crowd waving me over.

“Hyuna, over here!”

I gasp, my eyes widening. “Oppa!”

He smiles as I begin walking towards him, my feet hurriedly moving across the concrete. The distance between us shortens and I abandon my luggage as he opens his arms wide.

Only for me to sucker punch him in the stomach.

He yelps in pain, grimacing as he holds his abdomen. “Shit, that hurt. What has Aunt Sua been feeding you up there? Rocks?”

I smack his shoulder, my blood slightly boiling in anger. “Yah, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?! Do you know how much money I blew off for the bus fare?”

He straightens his back before going to rub his shoulder, then behind his neck.

“Fine, fine. My bad. I wanted to surprise you, but I guess that didn’t work, did it?”

I cross my arms over my chest, huffing in annoyance. He sighs, nodding.

“Okay, okay, I’ll compensate you. Dinner’s on me.”

At this I grin, blinking excitedly. I grab onto his arm and shake it vigorously. “Really? You mean it? You’re the best, oppa!”

“Look at this brat..” he taunts, shaking his head. In a flash, he headlocks me and rubs the top of my head harshly with his knuckles, upsetting the neatly-tied auburn ponytail.

“Yah! Quit it!” I smack his arms and flail in protest, but he chuckles, saying this is what I get for cunningly finding a way to exploit him the minute I stepped back into Seoul.

What can I say? It’s a talent.

He lets go eventually, and I try to smooth down my already-tangled hair. I grumble incoherently but Jaehyun pulls me into his embrace, wrapping his arms around me. His free hand gently pats the side of my head in comfort.

“Welcome home, sis.”

I stand there stiff for a second before hugging back. He squeezes me tighter and I find myself smiling into his shoulder.

“Good to be back,” I whisper.

We stand like that for a moment before he pats my back a couple of times, us pulling away from each other soon after. He reaches behind me to grab my hand luggage as he shoulders my bag. I tell him that I can carry them just fine, but he starts walking away from the platform to the parking lot. I call out after him as I run to catch up, and I can see the corners of his mouth twitch. Jaehyun leads me to his car, a sleek matte-silver convertible Mustang. My mouth drops open in shock at its stunning beauty, my body forcing itself to remain composed for the sake of avoiding public self-embarrassment.

He throws my luggage in the back seat before he turns to me, smirking at my expression. “You like it?”

“Shit, do I like it? I love it!” I run my fingers over its metallic surface, the silver exterior gleaming in the evening glow. Grinning, I stare up at my brother who catches my gaze as I stand next to the driver’s seat, my fingers already curled on the handle.

“Can I—”

“No.”

“Please—”

“Nope.”

I pout as I pull my hand away and step to the side. Jaehyun chuckles, rubbing my head playfully before getting into the driver’s seat and starting the car. The engine purrs to life as my brother pulls out his shades and wears them. He looks at me and cocks his head to the passenger seat.

“Don’t just stand there. Get in.”

Smiling, I quickly make my way over to the other side and slip into the passenger seat. I barely have time to buckle in before Jaehyun speeds off. I scream in fright, but he laughs heartily, telling me to let loose.

With the wind harshly whipping around us, I close my eyes and tilt my head upwards, absorbing the remnants of my childhood in a place I’ll always call home. A place where my heart always feels at ease.

My name is Jung Hyuna. I’m eighteen years old, and this is my story.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

#moonbin x oc #moonbin ff #moonbin fic #moon bin #cha eunwoo #jung jaehyun #astro #nct #fanfiction #my writings #mine

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fantasticstoryteller · 3 years

Text

New Amsterdam Chapter 18

[I have to point out, once again, how very strange it is that he is not running from us, not making an excuse to leave us, and feels safer with us than with the unarmed, clearly sane man.]

{Shut up! Petey-Pie is amazing!}

[I didn’t say I don’t like him, I said he’s strange.]

Wade hummed as Peter put groceries in his cart. When the boy had asked him to go shopping with him, he didn’t think it would be for groceries.

[And medical supplies. He could support an ambulance with what he’s got in there.]

{What does he need those for? Is working for Stark that dangerous?}

“Peter,” said Wade slowly, “I notice that you’ve got a lot of fruit.”

“Ah, well,” said Peter as he pushed up his glasses (he’d put them on before going into the store saying he had eyestrain), “fruit is good. It has vitamins and nutrients, and most fruits also have juice.”

[That’s—oddly specific.]

Wade watched as Peter put some crackers in the cart. “Do you ever—cook food, Petey?” he asked.

“I can,” Peter said defensively. “I just—don’t have a lot of time,” he admitted. Peter slouched over, as if ashamed of himself.

{You FIEND! Fix it! Fix it NOW!!!}

“All righty Petey-Pie,” said Wade decisively as he started grabbing stuff on his own. “Tonight, I’ll cook.”

An adorable flush crossed Peter’s cheeks. “I can’t ask you to do that,” he protested.

[Buy it with our money Wade. Author knows we have more than enough.]

“True. You’re not asking,” Wade assured Peter. “I’m telling. And I’m a good cook.”

{Remember that chef that taught us how to cook in exchange for not killing him?}

[We still killed him though.]

{Only because he tried to poison us.}

The flush deepened. “Th—thanks Wade,” he said.

Wade looked at him, reached and towards his face, and “Boop!” bopped his nose with a gloved finger. The nose, predictably, twitched in response.

“Stop that,’ protested Peter with no heat from the words.

“You are just too cute. I can’t wait to see you melt over dinner.”

“That sounded wrong,” Peter complained as he followed Wade to the next aisle.

“No, no!” protested Wade as he turned Peter around. “you’re going to be surprised!”

[We’re not. It’s tacos again, isn’t it?]

{Tacos have all the food groups because tomatoes are a fruit!}

“Hey, are the food groups still a pyramid, or did they change again?” asked Wade as he picked ingredients.

{Hate to break it to ya buddy, but rice doesn’t go in tacos.}

“I don’t know. I don’t really keep up with that stuff.” Wade turned to see that Peter was still looking away. He couldn't help but grin under the mask; the boy really did believe in the concept of fair play.

“Kay. Hmm. I’ll Google it later. Oh—fun fact!” Wade announced as they continued to shop. “Did you know the first person to survive going over Niagara Falls in a barrel died after slipping on an orange peel?”

“Did you mention that because I have oranges in the cart?” asked Peter trailing after Wade, still not looking. Wade reached out and gently grabbed his elbow to prevent him from running into a display.

“Nah. It just popped into my head. I think the author was reading Fun Facts of the Day again.”

“Author?”

“Not important, Baby Boy,” said Wade with a dismissive wave of his hand. He looked at the contents of the cart and a thought took hold.

{I saw that! Do it! Do it!}

[An actual good idea. The second one so far.]

Wade hummed. “Okay Pete,” he said with a grin hidden (mostly, partly, okay—not at all since his mask was so emotive) behind his mask. “This next bit’s the secret to a perfect dinner, so I want you to close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes?”

Peter didn’t sound thrilled at the idea. “Don’t worry,” Wade said as reassuring as possible. “I’ll keep a hand on you and make sure you don’t run into anything.”

[Are you insane? Like he’s really going to trust a sword-wielding—he’s doing it. I can’t believe he’s doing it.]

{I want to keep him! Hold him tight and never let go!}

Peter had closed his eyes and was trustingly holding out a hand to Wade. A hand that Wade gently, reverently took. It wasn’t often anyone gave him trust.

[Or ever.]

{Spidey trusts us!}

[And how are you going to manage this next part, genius?]

Wade kept up a stream of babble that was just loud enough to cover the beeping at the checkout. He had no idea what the clerk thought—

[Probably that he doesn’t get paid enough to care.]

—but the young man didn’t say anything to ruin the deception until he gave the total. Peter’s eyes snapped open and his mouth dropped as Wade quickly paid for the food. All of the food. And the first aid supplies.

{Seriously; what does he need those for?}

“Wade!” spluttered Peter, face flushed, and staring in shock.

“Aw,” crooned Wade. “Boop.” He gently bopped Peter’s nose and, like always, it twitched like a little rabbit.

“Wade, this is serious!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you!” Wade quickly gathered the bags on and in his arms.

“Wade!”

“CAN’T HEAR YOU!” The mercenary danced out of the door.

Peter quickly caught up. “Wait—at least let me carry some of them!”

“Well—since I’m cooking,” admitted Wade. He paused and let Peter shift about half the weight of the bags to himself.

[Did you notice he took the heavy half?]

“I can carry it all,” Wade said.

“No,” said Peter firmly. His glasses began to slide down his nose. He used his forearm to push them back up again. “You paid for the groceries. You said you’d be cooking dinner. The least I can do is carry them.”

{Aw! He’s such a sweetie}

[I’m taking this moment to point out that he’s not even breathing hard.]

Wade ignored the voices in his head for the moment. “Well,” he said salaciously, “you are just going to—”

“Peter!” The two of them turned to see two beautiful redheads, one male and one female, coming up to them.

Peter’s face lit up. “Harry! MJ!” he called back as the two approached them. Wade watched them warily, not sure how to respond to the two new people. Especially not two people that Peter actually seemed happy to see.

[Doesn’t it strike you odd? All day long he’s only been happy to see three people, and we’re one of them.]

“Peter,” the young man said warily as he regarded Wade. “Who’s this?”

“Oh!” said Peter. “I’m sorry. Wade, this is Harry,” the male nodded, “and MJ,” the female waved. “They’ve been my best friends since—well, almost forever. Harry, MJ, this is Wade. He’s—um, a friend.”

“Oh.” The girl’s vibrant green eyes looked the costumed man up and down. “An ‘um friend.’ When did you get one of those? Huh?” she nudged Peter in the side with an elbow while wearing a smirk.

Peter squirmed. “MJ!” he protested.

The guy simply grinned and stuck his hands in his pockets. “So, Wade, was it? Has Peter shown you his scrapbooks yet?”

Wade hadn’t thought it was possible for Peter to get any redder. He’d been wrong. “Harry!” protested Peter in a voice that was half yelp, half yell.

MJ simply giggled before absconding with half the bags in Peter’s arms. “Let’s get your groceries put up Peter,” she said. “It’s been forever.”

[Why aren’t they screaming, running away, or telling us to leave?]

{Who cares?}

“You know,” said Harry, “I can help with—”

Both MJ and Peter whirled, identical expressions of anger on their faces. “NO!” they said firmly, in unison.

“Wow,” said Wade looking at Harry. “They agree! It must be important.”

“They’re just overprotective,” said Harry fondly. “On another note; you should really look at Peter’s scrapbooks. There’s at least one picture I know you’ll be thrilled with.” He smirked.

Wade wanted to punch him in the nose. He wasn’t sure why. “Peter doesn’t seem okay with it,” he said slowly.

Harry frowned. “That’s Dad’s fault,” he said viciously. “And the world doesn’t bow to Dad, no matter what the bastard thinks.”

{That’s a lot of anger.}

“There’s nothing wrong with scrapbooking.”

“Nothing at all,” agreed Wade. He wasn’t sure why, except that seeing Harry upset might upset Peter and he didn’t want to upset Peter.

“And Peter took all the pictures himself,” Harry added. There was an odd note of pride in his voice.

“I’ve seen his pictures in the Bugle,” Wade admitted.

[You mean, you’ve cut out pictures he’s taken of Spiderman and glued them to the wall of the bathroom.]

As the four of them made their way to Peter’s apartment, Wade noticed something. There was always someone touching Peter—MJ his arm, Harry his shoulder, or Wade just leaning against him randomly as they walked. Peter took it all in stride.

[Maybe it’s not so strange that he likes us. Maybe he’s just one of those people that needs to be touched.]

{In that case—we’re perfect for each other!}

[We are not, you idiot.]

Once they’re in the apartment all four of them help put up groceries. To Wade’s slight surprise, the redheads know where everything is supposed to go. When they were done MJ slung an arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Come on, Tiger,” she told him. “Time to get the scrapbook.”

“But—” Peter didn’t have a chance as MJ towed him towards a room.

“So,” said Harry amiably as the two of them waited on the couch. “You and Peter, huh? How did that happen?”

“I launched a sword into the alarm in his lab and his only comment was to ask if he could borrow the blade to finish cutting something.”

Harry chuckled. “Sounds like Peter,” he said fondly.

[He should sound more worried.]

“You don’t sound surprised,” Wade admitted.

Harry looked at Wade with a half smile and a raised eyebrow. “When we were five a guy in a dirty white van came up to the school. He said he’d hit a puppy and begged us to get the teacher for help.”

Sounded like a stranger danger scenario, the kind used to frighten small children. “What happened?” he asked.

“Peter climbed into the van. Turns out, there really was an injured puppy in the thing. The man had been telling the truth.” Harry was silent for a moment. “I asked Peter how he knew and he said he just did. So, if Peter feels comfortable around you, that means you’re a good person for him.”

Wade scoffed. “I’m not a good person,” he argued.

“Good,” said Harry, sounding satisfied.

Before Wade could interrogate Harry on that odd comment, MJ came out with a frantic Peter trailing behind her. “Got it,” said MJ smugly.

Peter was flushed, and looked a little panicked. “It—it’s not that great,” he said hurriedly as MJ smugly handed Wade a three-ring binder.

Wade looked at Peter. “I won’t open if it you’re not okay with that.” He noticed MJ and Harry exchange smiles, but kept his eyes on Peter.

Who slumped, defeated. “You can look,” he said. “They’re just—just not that great,” he continued lamely.

{He looks sad. We need to hug him!}

[We need to find out why this is so important.]

Wade opened the book and stared. It wasn’t a scrapbook so much as it was a photo album—and the photos were amazing. They were nothing the Bugle, borderline tabloid that it was, would ever print, but amazing nonetheless. They showed the city of New Amsterdam, and its heroes, in a way that Wade had never seen before. There was a picture of Captain America, clearly helping a cat down out of a tree, getting scratched in the face by said cat. There was a picture of a blue balloon among the pink petals of the cherry trees in the park. A group of girls in prom dresses eating pizza and laughing while one of them tried to scoop the pizza off her dress.

The one that made his breath catch, though, was the picture of him. Standing at the edge of a rooftop, katanas in each hand, a light shining on him highlighting features of the costume even as the rising sun behind him outlined the mercenary in view.

{We look amazing! That should be a poster!}

[There’s something odd about that picture…]

“These are wonderful,” said Wade in awe as he turned the page. He looked up at Peter. “Did you take all these?”

Peter flushed and shuffled his feet. “Well, yes,” he admitted.

“You should share them,” Wade said. They were way too good to be condemned to life merely in a notebook.

“No one wants them,” muttered Peter.

{LIES!!}

“Have you tried putting them up on Instagram?” asked Wade. “You know, showing people what you have?”

“I—I never really thought about it much,” admitted Peter as he pushed his glasses back into place with the heel of his hand.

“We’ll have to do that. After dinner. Or while it’s cooking.” He turned to MJ and Harry. “You want to join us?” he asked, politely. “I’m making a lot of food.”

MJ just chuckled. “The two of you are made for each other—he can eat a lot of food.”

Harry pushed himself up off the couch. “You two have fun,” he said gently. “We’ve got to go.” He walked up to Peter and tousled the smaller man’s hair. “Don’t let Dad run you ragged,” he advised.

Peter instantly looked troubled. “Harry—” he said worriedly.

“After all,” continued Harry, “he won’t always be in control.”

The worried look vanished and Peter grinned. “That’s right!” he said happily.

[What’s that about?]

{Eh, he’ll tell us when he’s ready.}

#Spider-Man #Deadpool #Spideypool

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vveridtime · 4 years

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ethan cutkosky, cis man + he/him | you know arin roque, right? they’re twenty-one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, fifteen years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to do you want me (dead?) by all time low like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole broken skateboards, idly flipping a zippo lighter & toy dinosaurs left in strange places thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 3rd, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( axel, 24, est, they/them )

henlo, meet my idiot son who’s nothing more than a mishmash of like 4 different indie muses of mine <3

spent the first few years of his life living in his mom cadence’s hometown of albany, new york; where the two of them lived with her cousin. he’d been an unexpected baby, and his dad took off before he was even born. her parents were/are supportive, but had just had their last child leave home so they’d downsized to a smaller house and didn’t quite have the room to take them in. but living with his uncle derek had it’s perks, and arin got to spend a lot of time hanging out with him playing video games and sports in the yard and going to hockey games on the weekends.

they spent 5 years there, his mom working and saving up money to go after a dream of hers. as a kid she’d spent summers in irving and the place had kept a special place in her heart all those years. they moved the year before he started kindergarten, into a little two-story shop near the pier with an apartment taking up the upstairs that his mom would slowly turn into a bakery. (i’ve been watching bob’s burgers again, leave me alone.)

his mom is a good baker. it’s no surprise that the place turned into one of those hidden gem places that any good town has.

when he was 10, one customer started coming around pretty much every day. always asking for the same thing until eventually getting up the courage to ask the owner out on a date. one thing led to another, and a year later she married one carson roque in a tiny ceremony. until then, arin had his mother’s maiden name for a last name, but when she had hers changed he asked if he could change his too so they would all match. his parents went on to have two more kids: nolan, who’s 6, and wren, who’s just shy of a year old now.

right now, he’s working in the bakery. taking a “gap year” that’s currently on it’s 4th year. still living at home. no intention to enroll in even community college any time soon. but he’s helping the family and working at the family business, so nobody’s too upset. if he’s not at the bakery, he’s probably off ignoring the “no skateboards” signs on the boardwalk or otherwise causing trouble. sometimes with nolan in tow, occasionally with baby wren.

misc. fun facts:

a textbook chaos bi

peaked in elementary school when everyone wanted to be his friend for the free cookies and cupcakes kjsbfdkjdsfb

babysits his siblings a lot despite maybe not being the best influence ? his siblings are his soft spot, but say anything about it and you get punched

his mom is also a soft spot, he’s just a big momma’s boy. you know the gag where the guy is yelling and telling his friends he’s gonna kick their asses then answers his ringing phone like “hi momma :)” ? that’s him.

has 2 guinea pigs who are technically family pets, but he takes care of them most. their names are beef and ravioli. nolan named beef, so he thought ravioli would be a complimentary name to go with it.

owns more hi my name is mark octopus tshirts than he probably should, mark hoppus does not need his money

#irvingintro #╰ * arin : prose ⧽#╰ * arin : isms ⧽#╰ * arin : aes ⧽#╰ * arin : meta ⧽

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capsironunderoos · 4 years

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The Four Times Buck Asks to Help and the One Time She Lets Him

Evan Buckley X Reader

Summary: Buck gets new neighbors, and he’s not used to having someone refuse his help.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: ABUSE!!! Physical abuse!!! Also death. If these things bother you please don’t read this!

Author’s Note: I got this idea after watching season two and seeing Maddie’s story. The reader is involved in a very physically abusive relationship, so again, if that bothers you please don’t read this. I plan on writing many more Buck stories soon, so don’t worry about missing out on content for our sweet boy. Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me or those around you if you need help!

Masterlist

The First Time

Buck hasn’t really left his apartment since the tsunami.

He can’t bring himself to do anything besides move from his couch to the bar in his kitchen.

To him, life without fighting fires, saving lives, isn’t a life at all.

Everything seems empty to him, a shell that holds him down and reminds him of everything he is not. His apartment may as well have come straight from an open house showing. There is nothing of him here, he hasn’t had time to make it his and so it sits empty, hollow, mocking the spot in the middle of his chest that has been vacant for awhile now.

There was a time when it was full, and it was when he was seated at the table in Station 118, eating whatever Bobby had cooked up, joking with Hen and Chimney about whatever mess was going on in their lives.

He had even gotten so lucky as to have met Eddie, who brought Christopher into his life, and their presence filled him so that he was sure to overflow with the love he had for them.

He shakes his head at the thought, sitting quietly on a stool at the bar in his kitchen.

The sun lets itself in, seeping into his apartment without warrant and landing on his skin.

He hears a siren in the background and laughs, but it’s bitter and laced with hate, both for himself and for the world going on outside without him.

He takes another swig of the beer in his hands and starts to begin his journey back to the couch when he hears a knock at the door. He’s hesitant to answer, not wanting to see Maddie today, or any of his friends. He loves them, but he doesn’t want their pity, not today, not right now.

He walks over and slowly opens the door, surprised to see Eddie waltzing past him with Christopher in tow.

“I’ve got a morning snack, an afternoon snack, and twenty bucks for pizza for lunch,” Eddie chirps as he sits Christopher’s bag down on the counter.

Christopher has already found his spot on the coffee table in front of the tv. Buck stands in disbelief.

“Eddie… what…”

Eddie smiles at him before walking over and resting his hand on his shoulder.

“Look brother I know you’ve got it rough right now, but you not being able to work is probably the best thing that could be happening to me. You’re really helping me out.”

“Eddie I lost him. How am I gonna take care of him?” Buck asks, tears pricking his eyes as he thinks back to the tsunami.

“What? You think because you failed him one time you aren’t capable? Buck, I fail him everyday and I’m his father. You know there’s no one I trust more than you to leave him with right now.”

Buck searches Eddie’s eyes as he stands across from him in his kitchen, soul bared and heart open. Buck sees no sign of lying, or anger.

A smile works it’s way onto his face and he pulls Eddie into a tight hug. Eddie squeezes him just as hard and pulls away, glancing over at Christopher before making his way to the door.

“Oh hey, before I go, I think you’re getting a new neighbor.”

And with that, Eddie is gone, running off to his shift at the station. Buck wants to chase after him, go running into danger with his family again, but Eddie takes that dream out of the door with him.

Buck pauses for a minute and decides to see if Eddie was just fooling him into stepping out of his apartment or if he’s really getting neighbors.

He clears his throat and opens the door, hand holding the handle as he leans into the hallway, feet still lingering in his apartment.

Eddie wasn’t joking, boxes marked with sharpie are sitting in the hallway, and the door is propped open to allow warm light to seep into the flourescent-lit hallway. He hears footsteps and starts to retreat back into his comfort zone, but he stops when he sees you.

Your hair frames your face just right, and the sun does wonders for the soft smile lacing your lips. A white sweater rests against your skin, and it makes you glow. Buck thinks to himself that he’s seeing an angel, here in Los Angeles, living next door to him, existing in order to remind him that not all things are terrible all the time.

You feel him staring and look his way, a polite smile of acknowledgement is sent his way and before ehe can stop himself he’s walking over to you.

“New here?” He asks and wants to slap himself across the face.

How did you figure that one out, he thinks to himself, the millions of moving boxes in the hallway?

You laugh at his question and nod.

“Sort of. Just relocating, looking for a fresh start.”

He nods, understanding the feeling of needing something new.

He watches you struggle to lift a box labeled “work things” and he jumps into action.

“Here, let me help you with that.”

You glance at the door to your apartment and back to him, grasping onto the box with white knuckles.

“I-“

“She’s got it covered, bud.”

Buck shoots up straight at the sudden voice.

A man has stepped out of your apartment and the mood in the hallway has shifted. You won’t look in his direction, nor in the direction of the man standing beside you now, arm draped across your waist.

Buck’s blood boils at the sight, this man not even offering to help you move into your shared apartment.

“You could offer to help and I wouldn’t have to.” Buck snaps in retaliation.

Your head shoots up then, your eyes wide as they stare at Buck. It catches him off guard.

“No, please baby I’ve got this. You go back to your work call. I told you I’d get us all moved in.”

You speak quickly, hoping to smooth Buck’s words before they can reach your significant other’s ears. Your response does nothing for Buck, in fact it makes him more upset, but he watches it hit the man standing beside you as if it were a stack of bricks.

He slowly nods, lips pursed as he sizes up Buck.

“Listen man, if she needs help, that’s what I’m here for. We don’t need any help from the likes of you.”

Buck glances at you, but he’s met with your eyes fixed on your shoelaces.

He nods slowly and watches your boyfriend retreat into your apartment. You let out a shaky breath and look back up at Buck, offering a sad smile.

“It was nice to meet you.” You say, and Buck nods.

“Name’s Buck, and I’m right here if you need anything.” He says quietly and gestures over his shoulder.

You nod and mouth thank you before disappearing into your apartment.

The Second Time

It’s been a week since Buck has seen you and that hasn’t stopped him from thinking about you.

It also hasn’t stopped him from leaving his apartment like clockwork, hoping to at least pass you in the hallway.

He heard screaming and yelling the night he first met you, but he’s still unsure if it came from your apartment or the crazy neighbors upstairs. He thinks of Maddie when he thinks of you, but he quickly pushes that aside. He would not assume the worst, not yet.

He’s tying his sneakers, getting ready to go for a run and clear his mind, get him out of his apartment, and hopefully out of his head. He’s cueing up his playlist as he makes his way outside, and as soon as he places his earbuds in his ears and looks up, he sees you.

You’re unloading a small SUV, arms full of papers and a bag slung over your shoulder. You’re dressed up, professional clothes that sport colors he never thought a human being could pull off. Although here you are, beautiful.

The thought makes him recoil for a second.

You were not his and he couldn’t allow himself to think such things about you. Although, that doesn’t stop him from jogging over to where you struggle with another bag in the back of your car.

You don’t hear him come up behind you, and when he says hey you jump, almost dropping everything you hold.

“Oh my god I am so sorry. I should have approached that a lot differently. I should have approached you a lot differently. I’m so sorry.”

You turn back away from him, shaking your head.

“It’s fine.” You say softly, grabbing the bag you were reaching for and throwing it over your free shoulder, closing your car door and walking past him.

Before you can get too far, and before he can register what a terrible idea it is, he grabs your shoulder, softly, but enough to stop you. You wince and shrug away from him, causing his eyebrows to furrow.

“Will you please let go of me.” You whisper, eyes downcast and watery.

The tremble in your voice snaps him into focus, and he feels like an idiot for thinking he could just grab you like that.

“Listen I’m sorry. About that, about the other day. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble-“ Your head shoots up at that.

“Trouble? You didn’t cause any trouble.” He nods and smiles softly.

“Okay… Well the least I can do is help you carry this stuff up.” He glances to the stuff in your arms and sees your badge hanging on your shirt.

“You’re a teacher?” He asks, and you nod.

“I am, which means that I’ve handled thirty second graders today and I can handle carrying my bags up to my apartment.” Your cold tone catches him off guard, and he finds himself nodding as he watches you recede and enter the building.

The Third Time

Buck finds himself at the 118 today.

Not for work, he still hasn’t gotten his job back yet, but to see his friends, his family. Bobby invited him over for lunch with the promise of cooking whatever Buck picked out, and who could say no to that?

So he finds himself now standing beside one of the trucks, talking to Chimney when he sees you entering the house. He’s surprised, and he can tell you are too when your eyes land on him and widen.

You smile politely and he and Chimney walk over to you.

“Hi, um, I’m (Y/N),” finally, a name. It suits you, pretty and soft.

Chimney smiles and introduces himself.

“Hey Buck,” you add after Chimney is done, and he glances between the two of you before quickly leaving. This is the first time you’ve said his name, and he can’t help the change in pace his heart makes at the sound of it rolling off your tongue.

“Everything okay?” He asks, eyes searching yours.

He notices the slightest trace of purple on the right side of your face, beside your eye, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’d done a pretty good job of covering up a split lip with cherry red lipstick. It matches the long sleeve you wear, which is coincidentally covered with small cherries and is tucked into jeans.

“Yeah everything is fine. I’m here to respond to a want ad?” Buck is confused now.

“I thought you were a teacher?” This elicits a small laugh from you and his heart is beating so fast he knows you can see it through his button up shirt.

“I am. Someone here is looking for after school help.”

“That would be me,” Buck hears over his shoulder and looks to see Eddie walking towards the both of you. His smile is huge, genuine. He’s excited to see you, and Buck can’t blame him, he is too.

“Buck here told me about you being a teacher and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to reach out.” He starts and you blush, cueing a wide smile to take over Buck’s face.

“Oh, thank you. I love to teach, and I can’t wait to meet your son. Plus, I can really use an extra distraction right now.”

“Tell me about it.” Eddie laughs your comment off, but Buck hangs on to every word leaving your lips.

“Well, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t see a need for an interview and if you’ve passed the Buck-ground check then you’re good enough for me.”

“Oh ha ha very funny,” Buck retaliates and you and Eddie laugh. Eddie shakes your hand and gives you details for your first meeting with Christopher before retreating back upstairs.

“You good to get home? I can help you get a ride?” Buck asks after a beat of silence and you open your mouth to answer but someone else’s voice comes out.

“Hey what’s taking so long?”

Buck looks over your shoulder to see your boyfriend waltzing into the station, hands in his pockets and shoulders rolled back as if he owns the place. He sees you standing with Buck and a grimace etches itself onto his lips.

“Buck. Thought I’d made myself clear, we don’t need your help.” He’s beside you now, hand wrapped around your arm at the crook of your elbow. Buck spares a glance there and he can tell you’re uncomfortable. His blood starts to boil and he starts to mouth of at him when he’s interrupted.

“Actually I’m hiring her to tutor my son.”

The three of you look up to see Eddie, Chim, Hen, and Bobby watching from upstairs. Your boyfriend nods, grip still tight on your arm.

“Well thank you. We’ll be in touch.” At that, he turns around, pulling you with him.

You risk a glance over your shoulder at Buck and your boyfriend quickly pulls you into his side, whispering in your ear as you leave the same way you came.

The Fourth Time

The sound of shattering glass wakes Buck up so suddenly that he has to catch himself in order to not fall off the couch.

He’s disoriented for a minute, not remembering falling asleep there, but when he catches his bearings he hears screaming. He sits in the dark, listening to try and see where the sound is coming from. When another unidentified object hits the wall near his bed his heart sinks.

The sound is coming from your apartment.

He glances over at his clock and notes that it’s five in the morning. Another minute passes and everything has gone quiet again.

Buck is conflicted, he doesn’t know if he should intervene and risk making things worse, or leave you to suffer in the hopes that he won’t make anything worse than it already is. He sits on his thoughts for a moment, collecting them, before he reaches a consensus. He thinks of Maddie, and how upset he would have been if her neighbors had known what Doug was doing to her and had done nothing to help.

He jumps from his bed then, not even bothering to put on a shirt or shoes, walking down the stairs when he hears your door slam shut. He picks up his pace, but stops when he gets to his door. He listens, making sure that when he leaves he isn’t going to come face to face with your monster of a boyfriend.

When he is at least relatively positive the coast is clear, he opens his door, slowly and as quietly as possible. He looks up and down the hallway before walking out of his apartment and closing the door behind him.

When he reaches your door, he grows quiet again, listening. All he can hear is the sound of you crying. His heart breaks and he knocks quietly on the door.

Your crying stops, and he hears shuffling and objects moving before your footsteps make their way to the door.

When you fall silent on the other side of the door he isn’t sure if you’ll open the door. Honestly, he isn’t sure what he’ll do if you do open the door to him.

Another moment passes by and he begins to retreat back to his bed when he hears the handle turning. He anxiously rocks on the balls of his feet as you crack open the door just enough for him to see the gash on your forehead and your tear-stained cheeks.

“Buck please, now is not the time. I messed up and didn’t make breakfast right. Now please, go back to bed. I need to have this cleaned up before he gets back.” You whisper quickly, harshly and you move to close the door but he stops it, putting his hand in-between it and the door frame.

“Please,” he aims to plead with you now, “let me help you. I can help get you out of this.”

You shake your head as he talks and he sees that you’ve started crying again.

“You can’t, you can’t possibly help me. I created this, this is my fault.” You whisper as you look up at him, eyes wide and vulnerable.

He wants nothing more in the world than to throw open your door and pull you into his chest, shielding you from the world and protecting you from everything.

“Please, (Y/N), I can help. I know people and-“

“No, no Buck, no one can know. He would lose his job and everything would be worse. Please, just leave me alone.”

The fear and panic written across your face, or at least the parts of it he can see, cue him to drop his hands by his side.

He stands in the hallway long after you’ve clicked the door to your apartment shut, the past minutes replaying in his head over and over.

When he finally makes it back into his bed, sleep has eluded him. All he can see is the fear in your eyes and the only thing he can think about is the blinding rage that has overcome him.

The Fifth Time

Buck had heard your boyfriend storm into your apartment just a few moments ago, knocking his train of thought completely off the rails.

He’d been trying to figure out a way to tell the 118 that he was the new fire marshal, but he’d been sitting on his couch all afternoon, TV mumbling in the background, and he still had nothing.

When he hears a loud thump from your apartment he shifts uncomfortably on his couch.

He had talked to Chimney and Maddie a few days ago about you, not sure what else he could do and knowing that he couldn’t keep it to himself.

Maddie had cried for you, begging Buck to introduce the two of you so she could try and be of some assistance, could maybe be the person she needed all those months ago.

Buck tells her that you wouldn’t accept her help even if she got down on her knees and begged, and Maddie shakes her head. She understands, she’s been there.

Chimney tells Buck he had felt uneasy when your boyfriend had walked into the station.

“Yeah, try living next to him,” Buck responds to that and Chimney sighs.

“That’s not helping right now Buck.”

Buck asks Chimney if he noticed anything about you the day you came into the station, and he nods.

“Yeah, she did a real good job of covering up that split lip but forgot about the purple bruise.”

Buck nods this time, his suspicions having been confirmed.

Maddie tells him he can’t call the cops and report their fighting, because it’ll only make things worse for you. As much as it pains him, Buck agrees. The last thing he wants to do is make things worse for you.

“But, you could ask Athena to look into him, maybe he has something in his past that will make things easier for her to end it.”

“Yeah but I don’t know his name. Neither of them have ever given it to me.”

“Give Athena her name then, and see what she can dig up.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s a good idea Maddie.”

And he had given Athena your name, which had enabled her to find your boyfriend, and had also revealed a dead end.

He didn’t have so much as a misdemeanor tainting his record, and neither did you.

Another thump against the wall brings Buck out of his head and back into his apartment.

There was truly nothing he could do, and even if, by some miracle, there was, he had a feeling you wouldn’t let him anyways.

He turns up the TV, trying to focus on the news, deciding it’s best for the both of you if he just tunes you out.

His heart pounds heavy against his chest, it’s not used to turning in the opposite direction when someone is in trouble. He has to ignore it, for now at least, until he can find another way to help before it’s too late.

He stands then, shaking his head and making his way over to the fridge, grabbing a drink and opening it, starting to take a swig when he hears a scream. It’s blood curdling, and he wonders if any of his other neighbors hear it too.

He sets his opened drink on the bar, moving to his door, opening it, and looking into the hallway.

He doesn’t see anything, and he starts to think that his mind is just playing tricks on him now, replaying the past few times he’d heard you scream, mocking him.

He goes to move and retrieve his drink, almost closing the door when he hears a loud sob and muffled scream.

That’s it, he thinks. He doesn’t care that he might be making things worse, he’s getting you out of there.

He storms over to your apartment, surprised that the door is unlocked. He opens it slowly and as quietly as possible, nervous as to what he may discover.

Once he’s in, he sees an apartment that mirrors his. No personal touches, no decorations. The only thing he sees that even tells him someone lives there is your stack of papers, waiting to be graded, sitting on the kitchen table.

He walks further into the apartment, over to the couch and still hasn’t found neither you nor your boyfriend.

He hears shuffling upstairs and turns, making his way to the first step but stops when he hears labored breathing and soft crying. He looks up and his heart stops.

You’re leaned against the wall at the top of the stairs, and you look like you’ve walked out of a horror movie.

Your hands are covered in blood, and the right one holding you up is leaving angry red handprints on the white paint there. Your hair is loose and frizzy around your shoulders, and he sees the gash from last week has opened back up.

You’re still in your work clothes, the honey yellow sweater and striped pants you wear ruined. You haven’t even taken your name tag off yet, and the picture of the smiling woman he sees there splits his heart in two.

You’re still crying, taking shallow breaths and wobbling slightly on uneasy feet.

He doesn’t know what to do. Are you covered in your blood? Your boyfriend’s? Should he run to you, or wait for you to move?

His head is racing, each thought passing by him in a blur.

“Buck?” You ask, looking at him in disbelief. He nods.

“I’m- I’m sorry I had to. I had to.” You break down again and Buck throws caution to the wind, taking the steps two at a time to reach you.

You won’t look at him, eyes overflowing with tears and staring at your red hands.

He gently grabs your face, both of his large hands resting on either side of it and moving you to look up at him.

“Hey listen, you have to tell me what happened. I can help you, if you want, but only if you tell me everything.”

Your eyes are so clear as they search his face, and he can tell you’re trying to decide whether you should trust him or not. He thinks back then.\, to Maddie, finding her in the forest in a similar state.

“I- I killed him, Buck.” You whisper finally, and Buck’s heart constricts.

“Oh, oh god Buck I killed him!” You yell in realization and your knees give way, almost bringing you to the floor but Buck stops you before that happens.

He sits down then, pulling you into his lap as you cling onto his shirt, red hands staining it. He holds your head to his chest and rests his chin on top of it.

“Hey, I need to call 9-1-1 okay?” You nod, still sniffling into his chest.

He pulls his phone from his pocket and types in the numbers, glancing over his shoulder to where you stepped out from. He sees him then, face first in the carpet, still bleeding out. A large kitchen knife has been thrown beside him and a trail of blood leads to where he now sits with you.

He almost smiles at his luck when Maddie is the dispatcher on the other end of the phone, and he describes the situation to her. She dispatches Athena and the 118 to Buck’s location and they arrive on record time, Hen and Chimney making their way to you and your boyfriend.

“Yeah he’s dead,” he hears Hen whisper to Chimney, who’s knelt beside where you and Buck sit. Buck moves you to sit up, and Chimney smiles warmly at you.

“Hey sweetheart,” he starts, “I need to get a good look at you, okay?”

You nod and try to stand up, but fall back into Buck’s lap, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Buck starts yelling your name and Chimney finds that you’d been stabbed in the leg and had been slowly bleeding. Buck curses at himself for not noticing it, and he hands you over to Hen and Chimney without hesitation. They work diligently to stop the bleeding until they can get you to the hospital. When they roll you out on the gurney Buck turns to Athena and Bobby, who watch him warily.

“He was like that when I came in,” Buck states and Athena nods, making her way over to him and resting a hand on his shoulder.

“This hits a little too close to home, doesn’t it?” Buck is hesitant when he nods. Athena pats his shoulder.

“Take care of yourself.” She warns and he can’t help but smile in agreement.

“Buck.” Bobby calls his name and he makes his way over to the Captain.

“Go change your clothes and head to the hospital. It’ll be good for her to see a familiar face when she wakes up.”

Buck nods and thanks Bobby, who shakes his head and ushers him out of the door.

---

Buck is sat in a chair beside your bed when you come to, and you frantically scramble as you try to sit up, panic stricken. Buck leans over and grabs your hand, making you look in his direction.

“You’re okay. You lost a lot of blood back there but you’re gonna be okay.”

You search his eyes, probably to determine if he’s lying or telling you the truth, and when you slowly sink back into the pillows on the hospital bed Buck knows you’ve decided he was telling the truth.

You look up at the ceiling, eyes unblinking for a moment before speaking.

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” You ask in a whisper and Buck notes you squeezing his hand as you wait for his answer.

“Yeah, he is.” He responds and he watches as you begin to cry.

“Hey, hey,” Buck coos, moving his chair closer to you and leaning over the hospital bed. His right hand moves to cup your face as his left hand still grasps yours.

You look at him, eyes bloodshot and face red from crying.

“He can’t hurt you anymore, got that? You did what you had to do.”

You nod, slowly, accepting his words.

“I know, I know it’s just-“

Buck nods. You don’t have to finish that sentence for him to know what you’re feeling. Even if he had been your abuser, you’d just ended someone’s life.��

“Hey,” he says, and you look at him again.

“Thank you for letting me help.”

You smile softly, this time your left hand moves to run your fingers across his cheek and he can’t help himself from leaning into your touch.

“Thank you for asking. Thank you for asking more than once. I wish I had let you help sooner.” You add, and Buck shakes his head.

“You were protecting yourself. All that matters now is that he’s gone, and you have my help for as long as you need it.”

#911 fox #911 #buck #evan buckley #buck x reader #Evan Buckley x reader #evan buckley x reader #911 x reader

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casmoments · 4 years

Text

Marriage of Convenience; part 6

Prompt: “Arranged Marriage” - Certain factions of heaven are on your tail, the consequence of your death a trigger to greater destruction. In order to protect your life and others, you agree to an old custom that prevents any heavenly agent from harming you. The basic ritual? You have to marry an angel. Sixth part in a series. (second to last chapter) Reader Gender: female Word Count: 7400 Warnings: reader has nightmares about her angel attack, mild violence in a confrontation later. some wing!kink in the smutty part.

part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five

That awful, extended hunt eventually drew to a close. There were always other cases, though. If it wasn’t a hunt then it was heaven. You had to share your husband with the world and though goodbyes were never easy, you allowed his departure. You treasured your time together all the more. And you knew that if you truly needed him for some reason, he would come if you called.

Not that you took advantage of this. At least, your conscious mind did not.

There was a split second between sleep and consciousness in which nightmares bled into reality. You woke with a panicked start, Castiel’s name falling from your lips before you realized you were dreaming. Wings fluttered nonetheless, Castiel appearing at your bedside almost immediately.

“What is it?” he asked, concerned. You swallowed and looked at him, a bit embarrassed.

“Sorry,” you said, “I shouldn’t have called. It was just a nightmare.”

You didn’t have nightmares often. The grotesque and supernatural had integrated itself so thoroughly in your life that very little truly startled you. That being said, these thoughts sat dormant in your mind. The only group interested in your harm was an angel faction, the one set on sacrificing you for that long-ago vanquished ritual. You didn’t serve a real purpose to anyone else so you were left alone, thus quite safe so long as your marriage shielded you from the aforementioned baddies. But despite your security, you knew it was a dangerous world. You had seen things, endured things firsthand, things that most people could not imagine.

And so, while nightmares were rare, and while they had not bothered you in a very, very, very long time, one occasionally surfaced with memory of darker places.

“A nightmare,” Castiel said. Though it was dark in your room, you could still make out his silhouette. Details came into view when your bedside lamp suddenly flicked on, your eyes closing against the sudden light. “Are you okay?” Castiel asked, stepping closer to the bed.

You pushed yourself upright, rubbing your eyes. Though you felt comfortable calling on Castiel for any number of reasons, this seemed a bit superfluous. If he was not at your side then it was because he was doing something important. You pulled him from that task for a ridiculous reason. Still embarrassed, you found it difficult to meet his eye. Your reservation upset him.

“Y/N,” he said, knees bumping the mattress, he stood so close. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing,” you said, finally looking at him. His brow was creased with worry, eyes set on you. You smiled weakly. “I’m sorry. I called you for no good reason. You were probably busy with something important.”

He frowned at that. You looked away, pulling hair in front of your face. You peered at him through the unkempt locks, watching as he shrugged off his coats. You looked away when he sat on the bed, loosening his tie. His shoes and socks were gone but he was still mostly dressed. It was a little more casual, though, and spoke of the promise to stay. When he reached for you, you immediately moved into his embrace. You shoved your face into his chest.

“You are important,” he said, pushing your hair back, tucking it behind your ears. “I’ve been a very bad husband if I have not made that clear.”

“You are not a bad husband,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened. You’re the one who saved me.” He kissed the top of your head, arms settling around you.

“What was your nightmare?” he asked. He rubbed soothing circles on your lower back. You hummed a bit, lifting your face. You placed your head against his chest, gentler.

“It was, uh, just the… just the angel thing. From way back.”

Castiel had found you all that time ago, the Winchesters in tow. The angels who sought your demise had captured you—you who understood nothing of heaven or angels or prophets. They had trapped you in some warehouse and accosted you, tying you up as they prepared the beginnings of a ritual. You endured so much, the in-between moments were blurry. But Castiel eventually interrupted, taking them out one at a time. Though the latter half of this story delighted, the former did not. You were captive for some time and angels weren’t exactly gentle. They were soldiers on a mission and, because their efforts were already dark, they went a bit beyond their assignment.

You shuddered. Castiel’s arms tightened around you.

“You’re safe,” he said firmly, kissing your forehead. You tightened your own hold.

“I know,” you said. “I know.” You tipped your head back, looking up at him. He met your gaze, his dark expression softening as he looked at you. “Will you, uh, will you stay with me until I fall asleep again?”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. You smiled gently, making a surprised noise when he kissed you. He smiled in return, pulling back, lifting a hand to caress your cheek. Even after all this time, you still blushed beneath his attentive stare.

“The best husband,” you murmured, nudging his chin with your nose. He swept down, kissing you deeply. You looked at him fondly as the kiss ended. “You like it when I call you that,” you said, pressing a hand to his chest, idly tracing the shirt buttons. You undid the first few, opening his collar. “Why do you like it so much?” you asked curiously, looking at him again.

“It’s not a title I ever thought I would possess,” he said, his fingers running over your shoulder and curving down your arm. “Marriage is reserved for humans, with few exceptions and rituals. Ours included.” He looked at you, his eyes roving your face. His hand slid to your hip and drew you close. “It was an unexpected development,” he said, “but one I treasure. It… you… are very important to me.” He kissed your forehead, then your eyelid as you closed your eyes. “Earth is… messy. Life is troublesome and the burdens are endless.” He kissed your cheek, the tip of your nose. “Being your husband, hearing you say it, gives me joy. Something that seems to be a rare commodity. But it’s mine.” He didn’t kiss you, ridiculous tease that he was, so you had to kiss him instead. He smiled when you parted, touching his thumb to your bottom lip as he stared down at you. “My wife,” he said.

“Husband,” you grumbled, a bit sheepishly, embarrassed by his sentimentalities and sweetness. You buried your face in his chest again. He held no such embarrassment, happy to prolong the moment.

“Wife,” he said once more. You giggled, lifting your head.

“We’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled. “You should sleep now.” The lamp faded gradually, the room darkening. “I’ll stay with you.”

“Thank you,” you said, yawning soon after. You cuddled against him, sighing, closing your eyes.

He kissed your forehead again, wrapping his arm around you.

It was Dean who suggested date night. Well, he suggested get the hell out of the bunker, you lovesick idiots night, but it was the same thing.

There was really only one problem with a formal date night: neither you or Castiel had ever been on a date. Your perpetual singlehood prior to an arranged marriage was no secret. And Castiel wasn’t even human.

You were strolling along a boulevard, your hand in the crook of his elbow, but neither of you spoke nor did you have a very clear destination. Your knowledge of dating habits were mostly limited to Hollywood incarnations. There seemed to be an awful lot of restaurants and bowling alleys involved. Nothing sounded appealing.

So you were just walking in silence.

“This is weird,” you said after a bit. Castiel looked at you.

“What is?” he asked.

“We’re just… we’re not doing anything,” you said. “I feel kinda stressed which is weird. It’s just you.” You blushed and looked at him. He smiled, drawing to a halt so you could face each other.

“What would make you less ‘stressed’?” he asked, genuinely wanting to know. You shrugged.

“I dunno,” you said. “The activity doesn’t really matter, I guess. Dates are just… I don’t know… supposed to be talking about yourself, I guess. Isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Right. Well. We’ll talk then,” you said. You started walking again, once more hooking your hand around his proffered arm. “About… something. That we haven’t talked about before.”

Forced conversation was odd. With you and Castiel, every discussion and moment unfurled naturally. You recalled your wedding night—all hesitant touch and stiff posture. It wasn’t until he eased you into comfort and allowed a natural moment to grow that any connection was made. The same proved true here.

Castiel already knew your life story. As for his own, you knew as much as could be told. Heavenly affairs could be abstract to mortal understanding. Beyond his time on earth, his stories were a bit nonsensical. You did like when he related his observations of mankind. Watching had been a duty for very long and he saw interesting things. It was even more interesting to watch him reanalyze these things in light of his newfound revelations; he was not the same angel he was all those years ago.

Your story unfolded on a less cosmic scale, but you could claim a similar truth: you were not the same person you once were, but you were glad. You were even more glad because you could still claim your individuality. Romance had not stifled you but let you grow in new ways. The rest of you remained intact. You still enjoyed your hobbies, still took pleasure in little things, your walks and journeys, details like flowers and ice cream and—

“Have you ever had ice cream before?” you suddenly asked, clasping both hands around his arm. He shook his head, looking thoughtful.

“No,” he said. “You know food is an indulgence for me. I haven’t had much of it.”

“We should have ice cream,” you said, grinning. He looked at you and then around.

“I don’t think there’s any ice cream here,” he said, looking a bit confused, wondering where your idea came from.

“Then let’s go find some,” you said. “No husband of mine will exist without having tried ice cream.”

His glance was so incredibly fond. He gently broke your hold, your hands releasing his arm. You squeaked with surprise as he put his hand on your lower back, tugging you towards him. No sooner did your hands clasp the lapels of his trenchcoat did you feel the world flip. When you opened your eyes and looked around, your surroundings baffled you.

“Uh, where are we?” you asked.

“A small town, in the middle of nowhere, as I believe you say.” He looked incredibly proud of himself. You laughed a bit, shaking your head as you stepped back. As he said, it was a small town. The road was a bit dusty but there was something quaint about the surrounding environment. Your eyes immediately fell to an ice cream shop across the street. You looked at him for verification.

“My abandoned search for God once led me here,” he said. His devastatingly failed search was a story you knew well. You touched his arm but he looked at you contently, placing his hand over yours. “I was told their ice cream was ‘to die for’. I think it must be decent to warrant murderous ideation.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said, giggling at his comment. He smiled, leading you across the street.

A while later, you found yourself on a boardwalk in a different city. You sat side-by-side on a bench, looking over the sea wall. It was the edge of sunset here, the air a little cool but manageable. You ate your ice cream cone, your favourite flavour, glancing at him as you licked the top. He had no real preference so you ordered him the same flavour. You told him to order a bowl but he insisted on the same as you.

But your worries were rightly assumed. He might have been a celestial force but the ice cream outdid him. He was trying to lick it before it melted but little trails of ice cream ran down the cone and over his hand. He looked at it, brow creased, a frown on his face.

“This is not enjoyable,” he said, then simply tried to bite into the ice cream. He ripped away a chunk then made a face, swallowing it quickly. “Nor was that.”

“You savage, you can’t just bite ice cream,” you teased. He attempted to lick it again, ignoring the sticky trail running down his knuckles. You smiled to yourself, tucking a leg beneath you as you turned to face him. “Here, hold this,” you said, holding out your own cone.

“Why does yours co-operate?” he asked, still frowning as he took your ice cream with his free hand.

“Because I eat it properly,” you said, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. “Here, like this.” You brought his hand closer, touching your tongue to his skin and drawing a line upward, cleaning the ice cream mark. He watched you, frustrated glance turning to something else as you lifted your lips. You placed your mouth against the ice cream and scooped a bit with your tongue. You swallowed and leaned back with a satisfying sigh, licking your lips.

“Delicious,” you said, looking at him again. He smiled a bit.

“I enjoy it now,” he said. You laughed, taking your cone back.

“Glad to hear it.”

You managed to eat your ice cream without further fuss. He still made a bit of a mess, though you wondered how much was accidental when he held out his hand again. Your own ice cream finished, you clasped his wrist, quirking an eyebrow. He passed the cone to his other hand. His returned expression was perfectly innocent, looking at you over his half-finished ice cream.

“You’re lucky this is my favourite flavour,” you teased, turning his hand over. You kissed his palm, turning his hand again and teasingly flicking your tongue against the dip between thumb and forefinger. He lowered the ice cream, watching you run your tongue along his finger before you kissed the tip. You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes with exaggerated innocence. He stared with something headier, less innocent, finger pressing against your bottom lip until you lowered it. You opened your mouth just enough for his finger to press forward, his body squaring to you as you licked his fingertip, slowly taking it further in your mouth. You upped the performance a bit, closing your eyes and moaning once his knuckle passed your lips, your tongue rubbing against the digit.

“Y/N,” he said, voice husky with familiar promise. You pulled back, kissing his fingertip before diving forward again. You moved your mouth down, gently nipping his skin, running your tongue back and forth. He made a low sound, watching you without care for anything else. You eventually pulled back, looking up at him as you did so.

“You need to finish your ice cream,” you said, leaning back. You licked your lips and he looked at you, glance dry and frustrated at once. You threw him a smile, far too saccharine sweet.

He ate some of the cone, watching you as he did so. He then held out what remained and you shrugged, leaning forward to take a bit as well. As you moved, his hand snaked into your hair, drawing you towards him as you swallowed the ice cream. Fingers tangling in your locks, he tipped your head and leaned down to kiss you, lips cool from the evening and ice cream. The initial chill gave way to warmth, however, the kiss opening to something hotter, his tongue dipping past your lips to swipe the inside of your mouth. You gently rubbed your tongue against his, breathing a bit shakily as you drew back.

“You’re not done your ice cream,” you said.

“I have different tastes,” he said, cheeky tease, starting to draw you back. You smiled, turning your face so he kissed your cheek. He groaned a bit, pulling his fingers from your hair, running them over your shoulder.

“Finish your ice cream,” you said. “I don’t fool around on the first date.”

He gave you a look and you laughed, settling against him. He put his arm around you and though silence fell again, it was comfortable and easy.

It was peaceful—which should have been an indication of oncoming chaos. You had been so long sheltered in the security of this marriage, the protection it offered, that you almost forgot what parties could still threaten you. Heaven was no hazard, nor was any party under heaven’s command, but as you and Castiel began to walk away, he bristled, and you knew something was unfolding nearby.

“Stay here,” he said, slowly pulling away. You grabbed his arm, looking at him with worry.

“Where are you going?” you asked.

“Down the street,” he replied, “something is there.”

You knew he was better off alone. You wouldn’t be any help in confrontation. All the same, it was hard releasing his hand. He disappeared with a flutter of invisible wings, leaving you on the boardwalk with a pit in your stomach. You waited. And waited. And waited. Anxiety eventually overcame you. You slowly made your way down the street, in the direction he had indicated. You took out your cellphone, preparing to call the boys as you inched towards the end of the block.

An evening lamp flicked on. No sooner than that did someone grab you, throwing you up against the wall.

“So you’re what all the fuss is about,” a human snarled, hand clasped around your throat. You could not tell if it housed an angel or demon. In the time it took you to panic and kick your leg, Castiel appeared behind your assailant and slammed his hand onto their head. A burst of white light flamed before you. You turned your head and let the moment pass, then the body—emptied of a demon, you now knew—crumpled to the ground. You followed, knees buckling as your feet hit the ground. You started to fall forward but Castiel caught you, hoisting you upright.

“I told you to wait,” he said, tone sharp, angry and upset.

“You were gone a long time,” you replied shakily, looking at the dead body and then him. “I was worried.”

The wrath in his gaze faded, replaced with deeper grief.

“Are you all right?” he asked. You noticed his heavy breathing, an action that only occurred when his consciousness fell second to his body. He was running on instinct and adrenaline, trying to slow down for your sake, but brimming with concern because of you, making it harder. You fell against him, nonetheless craving the comfort of his presence, and he enveloped you tightly in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, definitely not wanting to fight, not about this, not right now.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, clearly of the same opinion. He held you tighter, cradling you against him as he lifted one hand to your hair. He pushed some of it back, out of your face, his thumb smoothing lines by your ear. “They couldn’t harm you,” he said, “they were employed by a faction of heaven—meaning they were bound to the same rules.”

“Heaven is hiring demons now?” you asked, crinkling his jacket beneath your firm grip.

“There are corrupt circles,” he said, “they’ve fallen to desperation but they won’t be a concern much longer.” He tipped your head back and looked at you, his gaze roaming your face like he was studying every feature. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

You nodded but that pit in your stomach spoke differently. It wasn’t so much the physical assault which paralyzed you, rather the realization behind it. You spent your time with idle occupations while the boys hunted, while your husband engaged in heavenly confrontations. Civilian life versus hunter life was a difference you could live with; you were not built to cope with the trials of huntership and you could deal with that.

But despite every gentle caress and seemingly human moment shared with Castiel, your husband was not human. There were a thousand moments spent elsewhere, a thousand histories you would never know, depths to him which you could not fathom, and though you could love the parts of him you knew, you suddenly doubted all possibility of true reciprocation.

You felt human, naïve, young. That physical slam was second to the emotional one, the realization of how big the world was beyond your safe little pocket.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until Castiel started wiping your tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking you over, something miserable in his gaze. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” you said, sniffling, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I just—I forget sometimes. What you… and how… and I’m just…”

“Stop,” he said, a bit gruffly, hooking his arm around your waist. “We should talk somewhere else.”

You grabbed onto him, shoving your face into his shoulder and gripping his coat so tightly, your knuckles whitened beneath the strain. You hiccupped, closing your eyes tight as a brush of wind whipped around you. You found yourself in an unfamiliar room. For a moment you just looked around in confusion, distracted with the scenery.

“Where are we?” you asked.

“Dean’s orchestrations realized,” Castiel said, looking around the room, himself. You looked at him curiously. “He and Sam rented us a hotel room so we’d stay out.”

“Ah.”

His hands gently fell around your face, thumbs brushing your cheeks. You blinked up at him.

“Will you tell me why you were crying?” he asked.

The same problems you always had returned, this inability to communicate everything you felt and thought. You now knew evasion was futile; he inevitably broke past your walls and those confessions always tumbled in a haphazard way. You didn’t want that to happen this time so you gathered your thoughts, redirecting them into one plain question:

“What do you look like?”

“I don’t understand,” he replied, brow furrowing. You gave him a look, hoping it spoke the obvious. He seemed to understand more than he admitted, and your glance confirmed his suspicions. His hands dropped to your waist but his grip was loose, his shoulders tense. “My true form is…”

“Hard to explain,” you said, voice breaking. The reply was familiar. You looked away from him, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

“You can perceive it,” he said, something you did not know. You lifted both eyebrows. He nodded, looking contemplative. “I would not recommend direct contact while you live, but you can. As a prophet, that ability should be inherent, but our marriage guarantees it so that…”

“…so that?” you asked, prompting him to finish. His grip tightened and he pulled you closer, his distracted gaze meeting yours.

“So that I may find you and be with you when you are no longer on earth.”

“Oh,” you said, gripping the lapels of his trenchcoat. “So… eternity is really eternity, huh?”

“Does that… displease you…?” He looked more confused than distraught, clearly wondering where all these contradictory feelings were coming from. You shook your head quickly, easing any menial concern.

“No!” you exclaimed. “No, of course not!”

“Y/N,” he said, a little sternly, “please tell me what’s wrong. Why are you asking me these things?”

“Because,” you groaned, sufficing to press your face into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around you, effectively locking you in place. You sighed, turning your head. “I’m just me. I’ve always been just me. Sometimes I remember that and… and I feel like the girl who used to stand around doing Sam and Dean’s laundry, thinking about some guy she wanted that she could never have. And I know I’ve got… your grace inside me and stuff… and I like that you’re an angel but… I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m not—that I can’t ever be—”

“My time on earth has not been easy, Y/N,” Castiel said, nudging you backward. He rolled your jack down your shoulders while moving. You allowed him to peel it down and toss it away. Suddenly the back of your legs hit something and you fell, toppling onto the bed behind you. “Life here is complicated. Despair, pain, fear… I learned and felt them all in a short time.”

He removed his trenchcoat and suit jacket simultaneously, laying them on the ground. You breathed shakily, watching as he moved onto his knees in front of you. His hands pressed into the mattress, caging your legs. Your heart beat a little faster though he made no promise of action. He just knelt, staring at you.

“For all that darkness,” he said, “there were better things. Hope, friendship, joy. But your presence has given me more than my share. How could you think yourself less than that? Your humanity is everything I cherish, and I cherish it very much. I am far more undeserving of you than you are of me.”

“That’s a bit far-fetched,” you said, though admitted to feeling much better. Castiel’s expression did not change even though your tone jested.

“It’s not,” he said firmly. “And you have given me everything. Your secrets, your stories,” there was a faint smile here and you returned it softly, “your body.” Said body reacted as if it was unaware until then, tickling heat throughout. “Your heart, I like to think.”

“Ah,” you looked away from his face, “you think right.”

“I don’t have a heart,” he said. You looked at him strangely. “A physical one, at least. There’s one in this body but… that isn’t the point.” His hands moved onto your knees and he looked at you imploringly. “I fear my true form may actually frighten you more than anything else, but that is not an issue for today. If you would have me, though, then I will…” He trailed off again. You went to encourage him once more but the flutter of wings interrupted you. You leaned back, the breath knocked from your body as he revealed his wings—or at least part of them.

There was no perfect description, not in human terms, but their composition was something chaotic. They unfolded like bird’s wings but they glimmered with fire and light, little tendrils of his grace fluttering and hooking in the air, blue and white and something so vivid that you can’t stare for long. They looked wild and abrasive but smooth at once.

“Holy…” You couldn’t manage an expletive. Castiel smiled a bit.

“Yes,” he said. You snapped from your trance, snorting at his jest. You then bit your lip, staring at him for a long moment.

“Can I… uh… can I…?”

“Touch them?” he asked. You jumped when one dipped toward you. The fire receded slightly, revealing ivory feathers beneath bluish flame. “Yes.”

Your heart definitely raced now. You reached out very slowly, avoiding the thickest swirl of fire and touching a softer patch. You gasped as your hand moved right through the flames, their whisper cool, soft, rolling around your hand. It tickled your palm and you laughed, brushing your knuckles over a feather. A few of them ruffled beneath your touch, twitching as your hand moved along their length.

“I’m not hurting you, right?” you asked, looking at his face. Your hand paused where it was, your expression concerned and curious. Castiel looked a bit flushed, his eyes locked on your hand. He swallowed hard, shaking his head in answer to your question. Your gaze wandered to his other wing. It slowly wrapped around you, not touching but promising. You looked at the first again, your fingers still curled. “They’re beautiful,” you said, opening your hand to smooth your palm over a few feathers. You almost swore they made noise, though not so literally. It wasn’t an emission of sound, rather an aspect of being. He was made of light, chaos, and sound, and something a little corporeal for your human touch.

“They’re me,” he simply said. “Though much smaller in this form.”

“How big are they usually?”

“Very,” was all he said. You smiled, throwing him a teasing look.

“Sounds sexy.”

He smiled at that, hands moving up your legs and settling on your waist. He drew you closer, his free wing wrapped around you completely. You shivered, fists instinctively clenching, closing around feather and flame. He grunted, thumbs pressing into your hips.

“This is as intimate as you can truly be,” he said, voice falling into a dark, husky scrape. It slithered from head to toe, warming you all over. “You understand, I would not share this with you if I felt anything less than love for you.” You couldn’t even speak, overwhelmed by every word and touch. His bruising thumbs stroked softly now, his eyes on your face while yours roamed his wing. “It is something to feel,” he said thoughtfully, quietly. You looked at him again, heart melting.

“I love you too, Cas. I mean,” you laughed, “that’s probably obvious. And I don’t have wings to show you, but I’ve never said that to anyone before so…”

“…so?” he prompted. You smiled.

“So you’re special, you loser.”

“That’s unkind.” He smiled nonetheless, then looked serious. “Never doubt me in this matter,” he said. “You should not feel less important than you are. I am your husband before anything else. That was my promise.”

“Promise,” you muttered. Most of the wedding ceremony had escaped you. You researched it later but you weren’t entirely sure of the vows sworn, at least beyond the obvious I will marry you and not cheat on you. “What were our promises?” you asked, more curious than anything. He looked surprise at this question.

“You understand Enochian fluently,” he said. “Do you not remember?”

“I understand normal Enochian,” you replied, a bit dryly. “It was a bit too twisted and flowery for me to follow along.”

“I see.” His wings suddenly spread behind him and you snatched your hand back, startled. His hands covered yours, bringing them to his mouth to kiss lightly. He placed them back in your lap, keeping his hands atop them. His wings lowered, folding almost demurely. You tipped your head, watching in wonder. “An angel bound in matrimony to a human… is a significant thing,” he said. “My Father made you in His image. From their conception, humans have been our mission. When I swore myself to be your husband, and you my wife, it was intended to be an unprecedented. And because humans are inherently favoured…” So much trailing off tonight. You tipped your head. His hands moved up your arms, towards your elbows, then fell to your hips again. “Y/N, I am yours.”

Those words were heavy, carrying promise beyond their simple recitation. You heart skipped a beat, your eyes roaming this incredible being who knelt in front of you and called himself yours.

“Oh,” you said weakly, reaching for him. You touched the side of his face, gently stroking your thumb over his cheek. He leaned towards your touch, his heated gaze never leaving your face. “I hope that’s a nice thing to be,” you said, at a loss for decent replies. He smiled nonetheless.

“It is,” he said. His hand covered yours, lifting it from his face as he turned his head. It was his turn to kiss your palm. He closed your fist, pressing his lips to your knuckles before lowering your hand to your own lap. “If you will permit it, wife,” he said, straightening, “I would very much like to demonstrate that worship.”

“Cas,” you said with a small giggle, laughter replaced with a surprised squeak when he suddenly stood, practically shoving you up the bed. You gasped, the breath scarcely past your lips before he moved over you, catching your mouth in another warm kiss. He pressed you into the mattress, his hands high at your sides, one of your legs between his. His wings disappeared but you were distracted anyway. He reached down, hands sliding beneath your body, then he repositioned himself to kneel between your legs. He sat upright, leaving you breathless, blinking up at him as you tried to process the past few seconds.

“Oh,” was all you managed, a simple syllable that kept returning. Castiel smiled, much too knowingly. You smiled as well, biting your bottom lip. Your hands sat beside your head, turning to grip the sheets as his hands went his shirt. He unknotted the tie, sliding it from his collar and dropping it to the floor. You watched its descent then looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and removed that next. You made a small, content sound, touching your tongue to your lip to soothe it from your bite.

He bent over you, gaze darkening. One hand landed beside your head while the other went to your face, his thumb smoothing over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, nipping at his thumb, smiling when he did. He replaced his hand with his mouth, kissing you slowly. You tried to deepen it but he refused, catching your hands in his and pressing them into the mattress. You shifted beneath him, needing so much more. His kiss was hot, wet, gradually deepening, but torturously slow. He turned his head a bit, licking your bottom lip, but then he went right back to his leisurely kiss.

“Cas,” you groaned, breaking from him long enough to say that. He kissed you again, a short peck, once, twice, three times. Then he moved down your body, gathering the hem of your shirt as he did so. He pushed it up and you helped remove it, not particularly caring where he threw it. You unhooked your bra and he drew it off, tossing it wherever he did the shirt. Then he was in your arms, chests pressed together, kissing you deeply, with greater fervour than before. He bit your lip before pulling away, once more moving lower.

“I have said it many times before,” he murmured into your skin, kissing along your collarbone and down between your breasts, “but you will have what you want.”

“You,” was your reply, breathing the word, “always just you.” Your words became a nonsensical sound, hands moving into his hair as he closed his lips around a nipple, lavishing attention to your breasts with soft kisses, licks, and bites, his rougher hand filling the spaces between. He moved down your stomach to the waistband of your pants, making short of work of the button and zipper. Your pants were halfway down your thighs when you thought of something, grabbing him by his hair and lifting his head.

“Cas, you didn’t check us into the hotel,” you said, fighting laughter. He frowned.

“is that entirely necessary?”

“You know it is. Oh my god, go! Really quick! We can’t just take the room!”

“But Dean confirmed it was this room number—”

“They need to know we’re here! What if they send up a cleaner or try to give the room away when we don’t show up?”

“Y/N,” he groaned unhappily. You laughed, pushing him up.

“Doesn’t always pay to use your wings and make shortcuts, huh?” you teased. He glared in good humour, kissing you quickly on the mouth before climbing off you. He picked up his shirt and with a flick of his wrist, it was back on his body. It wasn’t so easy to erase the bulge in his pants. You tried not to giggle, leaning on your elbows and watching him adjust himself. He threw you an exasperated look and you flopped back, covering your mouth to stifle laughter.

“I’ll be back,” he said gruffly. He disappeared with a flap of his wings, likely manifesting in the lobby downstairs. Still grinning, you climbed off the bed and removed your remaining clothes. You spent a moment gathering some of the scattered clothes, placing his trenchcoat and suit jacket on the back of a chair. Your own were placed on the desk, his tie atop them. You then went to the door, opening it enough to hook the do not disturb sign on the handle. You closed the door, locking it again. Your hand was still on the knob when you heard the flutter of wings. It was followed by the quick thump of his shoes as he kicked them off, bare feet padding towards you.

“That was fast,” you said, turning around to face a very impatient husband.

“Not fast enough,” he replied, grabbing you before another word was spoken. His mouth silenced any surprised word. He lifted you off your feet, all but slamming you into the door. You made a sound into the kiss and he leaned back momentarily. “I’m sorry,” he said, one hand moving behind your head.

“Don’t be,” you said with a smile. He returned it, pressing your head down so you kissed him. Both his hands went to your waist while yours went to his pants, opening them and shoving them down. Once his boxers and pants hung low enough to free his cock, you started unbuttoning his shirt. He wasted no time, hands beneath your thighs as he slid inside you. You gasped into his kiss, fingers pausing halfway down his shirt as he started fucking you right there against the door.

“Ugh, I love you so much,” you muttered, speaking against his mouth. He kissed you then moved his mouth along your jaw, flicking his tongue against your earlobe before speaking low.

“I assure you,” he said, “the feeling is very much mutual.”

You somehow managed to pry open his shirt, shoving at it until he held you differently, changing the angle of his thrusts slightly, enough that your head fell against the door and a cry left your lips. You spoke his name, his shirt halfway down his arms, his hands under your knees and your bodies pressed together. You couldn’t move yourself in this position but he managed just fine, one hand sliding under your thigh and curving around your rear. You groaned, shoving your hands into his hair. He looked positively wrecked, clothes hanging in disarray, hair frenzied from your fingers and lips swollen from kisses.

You could only focus on that so long, however. His wings slowly formed behind him, then wrapped around both of you. You cried out as they brushed your naked body, absolute ecstasy washing from head to toe at the intimate caress. Then they supported you, enough that his hand was put to better use. He lowered it between you, touching you where you needed and bringing you over the edge with a few well-timed circles on your throbbing clit. You moaned raggedly, eyes closing, tips of his wings whistling through your hair and over your skin. You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly, clenching around his cock and drawing him right over that same precipice. He pressed his face into your shoulder, suddenly biting down while pitching his hips.

You swore your ear were ringing by the time things slowed down. He lowered your legs, placing you back on your feet. Your stance was a bit shaky but his wings held your shoulders, keeping you upright. You sighed, slumping against the door. You expected him to relocate to the bed, giving you a breath before anything else happened.

Instead he dropped to his knees in front of you, kissing his way up your thigh.

“Castiel…” you gasped, your hand finding his hair. You looked down at him, panting. “What are you doing?”

“You know what I’m doing,” was his cheeky response, his mouth so close—

You made a high-pitched sound, breaking into a whimper when he grabbed your leg and hooked it over his shoulder. His mouth settled over you, clever tongue working you with familiar skill. You bucked against him, everything sensitive and achy. The thought of another orgasm was almost agonizing, but tantalizing. And Castiel always knew how to bring you there, no matter how your sensitive sex protested. You were close again in moments, sliding down the door.

It was then his hands moved under you, wings fluttering. You were on your back in a moment, laying on the bed with Castiel between your legs. You tipped your head into the mattress, groaning when his quick actions slowed considerably.

“Castiel,” you groaned, tugging at his hair. It didn’t deter him. He licked upward, looking at you as he did so.

“I want to enjoy my wife,” he said and god, you could have come from that alone. He ensured you did not, drawing out every motion until you were an untethered mess. Only then did he allow you to come, definite stars in the black as you closed your eyes and rode his face through your orgasm. You lay there afterward, blinking up at the ceiling, breathing hard. “So beautiful when you come for me,” he murmured, kissing your inner thigh before sitting up.

You lay there, just watching as he removed his shirt again. You looked down and groaned when you saw he was hard again, having had ample time during that last session. He removed his remaining clothes then ran his hand along your leg, up your hip, over your breast. You shivered, watching as a wing lowered around you, following the same path. Your faint tremor became a full-bodied shudder, heavy-lidded eyes turning up to his wings.

“You feel so beautiful,” you murmured, sighing when a tendril of blue flame danced over your cheek, feeling like the soft kiss of cool wind.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” he said, head of his cock pressing at your entrance. The caress of his wings had eased the fire in your body, but you still made a noise of tortured pleasure.

“Cas—” You couldn’t even finish his name, breaking into a wordless breath as he filled you again. He bent over you, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“Y/N,” he spoke your name around a faint moan. You opened your mouth beneath his, letting him kiss you again. You pressed your knees against his sides, breathing raggedly against his lips as he rolled his hips against yours, thrusting into you. The light of his wings seemed to slide all around you, kissing your skin, warming you and cooling you at once. There were so many sensations, you could only passively receive everything for a moment. Then you summoned your own senses and began to meet his thrusts, not so delirious but certainly caught in the moment.

You both collapsed with a moan when he came inside you, his body weighing heavy on yours for a time. He eventually moved over, drawing you into his arms and holding you there. His wing wrapped around you, light and sound running over you with no clear pattern.

“This is me,” Castiel said, his eyes on a wing. You followed his gaze, watching the amazing sight. “That is clear desire,” he continued, “for you. Only you… and always you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment. You remembered a time when you believed all hope of this was impossible. You doubted the realization of an epic romance, but here you were in the throes of one. And it wasn’t epic as you once thought it defined; great whirling stories of horrible pain, tears, anguish, filled with broad declarations of love that redeemed the dark moments. Those things existed, but in smaller portions. So it wasn’t so epic, after all.

But you realized this was much better.

His wings wrapped around you, his arms thrown over you, his lips against your forehead—that was all you needed. A soft assurance, no great declaration, a quiet promise of eternity, his grace wound to your soul, and happiness.

“Thank you for saving me,” you mumbled, “all that time ago.” Thinking about beginnings could frighten, but not tonight. Nightmares were far from mind as you fell asleep.

He muttered something into your hair. All you heard was my wife, the rest of the sentence foggy, but you supposed it could wait for when you could listen. You fell asleep tucked against him, his wings closing around you and holding you near.

part seven

castiel x reader masterpost

#castiel x reader #castiel imagine #castiel x y/n #casreader #castiel

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