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whumperscorner · 3 years

Note

"Chained to bed" for the bthb please

Here you go anon! Enjoy this lil one-shot in which Prompto has a bad time!

BTHB#3- Chained to Bed

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV

Characters: Prompto Argentum, Cor Leonis

Whumpee: Prompto Argentum

Word count: 3260

Warnings: Stalker, Intimate whumper, creepy touching (though nothing sexual or nsfw)

Prompto groans and stirs awake. His room is still pretty dark, so it must still be night, and sure enough when Prompto reaches over to his nightstand and checks his phone it lights up with the time, 03:24. Slightly confused about what woke him up in the first place, Prompto switches the phone off and turns over to go back to sleep. He's meeting up with Noct and Gladio tomorrow for some training and should probably get all the sleep he can to really blow them away with his awesome moves. By habit he lets his eyes scan briefly over the room before laying down, and then his heart jumps. He thought he'd seen something. A shadow by the door. That's weird, Prompto thinks, he's kind of jumpy sometimes sure, but that's usually not when he's home. He knows the layout and shadows of his room well enough not to be scared, even when he's home alone like now, with Cor away on a days-long mission. That's why it takes him a second to notice why exactly his brain had lit up with warnings like that. That shadow was not one of the old well-known ones, it wasn't supposed to be there.

The realization sends eerie shivers up his spine and he bolts upright in the bed again to double check, expecting to find maybe a jacket or hoodie hanging weirdly and making the shadow. Then he freezes. That's not what he sees. What Prompto sees is the unmistakeable silhouette of a tall, broad shouldered man, now standing in the middle of his room facing him. Prompto's eyes widen, and he thinks he should scream, he wants to scream, but he doesn't. Instead, he sucks in a sharp breath, and freezes. Fear grips his chest tight. The kind of paralyzing fear that makes him feel like even breathing too suddenly will break the fragile standstill in the room and allow something terrifying to happen.

Prompto doesn't know how long the two of them stay like that. Tension rises and hangs heavy in the air between them until it's almost unbearable. Then the man takes a few steps forward, slow and calm in his movements, and the spell is seemingly broken. Prompto can move again. The breath he'd been holding in comes out in the form of a choked gasp, and without thinking he scrambles off of the bed. He needs to get away from this man. So it's purely on instinct and fear-fuelled adrenaline that he then moves forward, ducking around the man and making a dash towards the hallway. Prompto is nearly by the door when the man catches up with him and tackles him hard to the floor. The impact knocks the wind out of him. Strong arms twist him around, so he lays on his back looking directly up at the face leering over him. There's something weirdly familiar about it, but Prompto can't put his finger on exactly what and there's no time to wonder about it now. A wordless scuffle ensues on the floor. Prompto flails and pushes against the man, hoping to regain some semblance of control over the situation. The man is muttering to himself through it all, and his face twists angrily the more Prompto squirms. Coming to a head when he in a stroke of good luck manages to connect a hit to the man's chin.

The man looks taken back for one short moment, then he gathers himself and lashes out with an enraged snarl. Grabbing the front of Prompto's t-shirt and hoisting him up from the floor, then slamming him back down. The back of Prompto's head hits the floor and he cries out as stars explode in front of his eyes. Using the time as Prompto struggles to recover from the blow to his advantage, the man yanks him up from the floor and walks him back to the bed. Prompto is dropped down, and just barely manages to brace himself against the covers before the man is on him again and something cold snaps around his right wrist. He jerks the hand back on instinct, but the man holds it tight, and he gets nowhere. The handcuffs glint in the dim light from the window in his room, and a new wave of panic washes over Prompto when the man snaps them shut around the far-right bedpost. He strains against the cuffs, using his left hand to try to push against the man when he leans over him again. "Nono, WAIT-" he begins, but the man clamps a big hand over his mouth, silencing him.

"I didn't want to do this. I wasn't going to hurt you. But you keep struggling." He mumbles. Whether it's more to himself or more to Prompto is unclear, but he leans in closer and keeps going. "The Marshal is finally gone, and I have you all to myself and you keep fighting it. Don't! Don't ruin this." Prompto closes his eyes tight, wincing in pain when the man tightens the grip over his mouth. His body is tense, and every inch of his being wants him to fight back, to grab the arm covering his mouth and get it away. But there's no telling what the man would do then, and with his right hand restrained Prompto doesn't want to risk being lashed out at again. In a position where he can't properly defend himself. "You'll stay quiet now, won't you love?" The man's voice is calmer now, but no less intense or pressing and Prompto shivers. He does not like this new pet name. "You won't cause problems anymore, and I won't have to hurt you. Cause I don't want that, and I know you don't want that either." He lets his thumb slide gently over Prompto's freckled cheek, and an involuntary whimper escapes into the hand. "I'll take my hand away if you promise to behave, love. Can you do that?"

For a second Prompto weighs his options, albeit there not being a whole lot of them in this situation, and then he nods. He's hoping that by playing along he can placate the man long enough for some other solution to eventually reveal itself. In any case something has to happen in the morning, he reasons with himself in an attempt to calm down, if he doesn't show then Noct and Gladio have to notice something's up. Upon his agreeing, the man flashes a wide smile that stands in stark contrast to the chilling horror Prompto is feeling. The hand covering his mouth is pulled back, and the tension in his body eases slightly, though it rockets back up again when the man then grabs a firm hold of his free left hand. The man's eyes hold Prompto's in a cold stare, warning him against resisting as he lifts the hand and places a soft kiss on it. Warm breath against his skin is enough to send shivers up Prompto's spine, and his breath hitches uncomfortably. Seemingly pleased with this, the man hums as he pulls out a second pair of handcuffs and snaps one part around Prompto's left wrist. Prompto's breathing picks up pace at the sight and the feeling of the cold metal, he only has time to vaguely wonder through the fear where the man has gotten these cuffs before they are snapped shut around the far-left bedpost. Now forcibly sprawled out on the bed, Prompto feels more open and vulnerable than ever before.

"Good boy." The man says, extending his hand towards Prompto and pushing a few strands of blond hair carefully to the side and out of his face. He's smiling, but Prompto wishes intently that he could be anywhere other than here. The man is still running his hand through Prompto's hair, and his touch makes Prompto's skin crawl. His eyes intently scan Prompto's face, like an artist admiring his work, and then he fishes out an old, worn phone from his pocket. Prompto wonders at first what he's planning to do with that, but not for long, as the sudden flash of a photo being taken makes him wince and shut his eyes. When he opens them back up again and they readjust to the dark he sees the man standing a few steps back, looking at his phone, presumably the picture just taken. "This one might be my favourite." he mutters, and the words make Prompto's stomach churn.

Against his better judgement Prompto opens his mouth to ask about it, but finds it and his throat too dry for any sound to come out and swallows hard before trying again. He just has to know, needs to find out why this man is doing what he's doing. "I- I think I've seen you before?" He poses it like a question, and his voice is shaky. Prompto wishes it wasn't, wishes that he could at least feign confidence despite how astronomically not okay the situation is. The man laughs in response.

"Oh, you have? Happy to hear it love, but you probably haven't seen me nearly as much as I've seen you." There's that pet name again, and Prompto squirms uncomfortably. The word stalker lights up in bright letters in his brain, but he's not going to be saying that out loud.

"But-" Prompto tries, voice meek enough to barely be more than a whisper, so he tries again. "Why all this then? Why not just approach?" he asks. To which the man's expression drops. He approaches and sits down on the bed next to Prompto. The mattress shifts and creaks from his weight.

"They wouldn't let me if I tried, so I watched from afar." He says nonchalantly, but there's something cold in his eyes now that wasn't there before. It scares Prompto, this change in demeanor. He seems somehow angrier now that he leans in closer to Prompto, again bringing his hands up to play with his hair. Prompto squirms under the touch, wishing the cuffs would allow even just a little more leeway to get away from the man. "Someone like me would never be let close to the Prince, and since you're always with him- ah, that reminds me actually." The man interrupts himself and sits back up. First and foremost, Prompto is relieved not to have his hands on him anymore, and then his brain starts chewing on what was just said. Someone like him, does he have a record then maybe? Prompto knows there are strict rules for who are and who aren't allowed near Noct, and known offenders are definitely not. Then he's distracted from his thoughts by what exactly the man is doing now that his focus isn't on Prompto. He has a phone in hand, and with a slight jolt of surprise Prompto realizes that it is his own, having been taken from the nightstand.

"Can't have your charming friends interrupting tomorrow when you don't show up for training, can we love?" He unlocks the phone and Prompto's heart sinks. How did the man know the code for his phone? But there isn't really any time to worry about it, as the man types something quick on his phone, and then turns to face Prompto. "You have now told both the Prince and his Shield not to worry that you're not coming tomorrow, as you regrettably have to leave for a bit to do an errand for the Marshal before he returns." Prompto's heart sinks further, if that is even possible. The sudden show of just how much of Prompto's life the man knows about leaves a sour taste in his mouth, but that isn't the worst part. This whole time Prompto has been counting on Noctis and Gladio to check up on him tomorrow and figure out that something's wrong, without that there is nothing he can think of that could help him.

"No!" Prompto exclaims, slightly louder than he had intended to. It just burst out of him, and he's already regretting it, with the way the man's brows are now furrowing angrily. His face twists and he surges forward. Prompto gasps, straining the cuffs in an instinctual attempt to brace himself.

"Didn't I say not to yell?" The man hisses, his right hand curls around Prompto's throat threateningly. "Why are you protesting now? This if for you, love. For us." Prompto whimpers and attempts to shake his head, but the man tightens the grip and he gasps, eyes going wide with fear. "I won't kill you, love," the man says, and he lets up the pressure, though he doesn't remove the hand. "But if someone hears you and comes running, I can't promise the same for them. They can't get in our way. And you don't want that do you?" Prompto whimpers out a tiny 'no' and the man nods intently. He opens his mouth to say something more, but a sound from downstairs catches both his and Prompto's attention. It's the sound of the front door being opened and then closed again as someone enters the house.

In the next few seconds, Prompto's mind races. Cor isn't supposed to be home for another few days. Could it be a neighbour? No, they wouldn't just let themselves in, they'd ring the doorbell first. Is it possible he could have gotten lucky, and his dad really is home early? Regardless of how small the chance of that actually is, Prompto has to try.

"Dad!" He yells, it's a weird, choked sound that comes out and he hopes to the gods that Cor really is there to respond to it. The man over him curses under his breath and slams his free hand over Prompto's mouth.

"Prom? You up?" It's Cor's voice from downstairs, Prompto has never before been so happy to hear his dad's voice. The man curses again, and Prompto's newfound relief from hearing Cor's voice is lessened somewhat. The hand still around his throat tightens, and then tightens further, so Prompto's vision blurs and he arches his back desperate to get some air.

"Shouldn't have done that, love." The man says, in a low and breathy voice. He removes the hand covering Prompto's mouth, but before Prompto can regain his breath enough to yell again, something soft is roughly stuffed into his mouth. It's something made of leather, Prompto finds, and it tastes really bad. Gloves maybe? He doesn't know. "It wasn't supposed to come to this, but I promise you," the man presses on. "I will get rid of Cor the fucking Immortal if I have to." Then he stands up, finally releasing the grip around Prompto's throat, and begins rummaging for something one the floor just out of Prompto's line of sight. Downstairs, Cor yells for Prompto again, confusion and worry laced in his voice and the man gets up. He walks towards the door, and light from the window glints in a blade in the man's hand.

Prompto's eyes widen and he yells, but it's muffled by the gag. He has to warn Cor in some way. Prompto knows his dad is a good fighter, one of the very best in fact, but worry still clenches his chest hard. What if the man catches him off guard and he ends up hurt? He can hear yelling form downstairs now, both the stalker's enraged voice and Cor's own. Something breaks, and the sounds of the fight continue, getting more and more distant as the two presumably move to a different room. Wanting nothing more than to go check on his dad, Prompto struggles against the handcuffs. He twists and squirms and strains until his wrists are rubbed raw, but gets nowhere. Then he stops. It's gotten quiet downstairs. No sounds of a fight, nothing. He yells again for Cor, not caring about the gag muffling his yells, Cor has to hear them. Then the staircase starts creaking as someone walks up to the second floor, and Prompto's heart beats faster. He can already envision the man from before coming up the stairs, having done something horrible to Cor and coming to take him away. Tears are prickling in his eyes, and when a silhouetted man finally enters his field of vision, he chokes out a terrified sob.

"Prompto!"

It's Cor. It's his dad running through the hall towards him, yelling his name, and relief floods through him. The first few tears start to fall just as Cor reaches the bed and kneels down next to it. The gag goes first, Cor removes it carefully and tosses it on the floor while Prompto coughs involuntarily in the absence of it. "Are you hurt?" Is the first question he has, eyes scanning over Prompto intently, searching for any pressingly dangerous injuries. Prompto shakes his head. He doesn't try to speak, knowing he would probably just cry. Cor's brows furrow worriedly, but he moves on to the handcuffs without further questions. The one around Prompto's right wrist first, and he curses under his breath at how the metal has rubbed his son's skin raw, and at certain places drawn blood. He makes swift work of the first pair of cuffs, and moves on to the ones chaining Prompto's left wrist.

When both his hands are properly released Prompto moves to sit upright on the bed, and winces when the movement jostles sore joints and muscles. Cor is quick to help, placing a secure hand on his shoulder and supporting him as he sits up. And suddenly it's all too much for Prompto, it's like a breath of tension leaving his body and everything comes crashing down. Cor seems to have seen it coming just ahead of time and drags Prompto against his chest for a tight hug as the rest of the tears run unhindered down freckled cheeks. "Shh, shh, you're okay kid. You're okay now." Cor whispers in a soft tone of voice uncharacteristic of the man, rubbing soothing circles on Prompto's back.

Gradually, the trembling stops and the tears slow down. Prompto's breath hitches as he looks back up at Cor. His expression, previously one of worry and tension, has softened considerably as well. Cor poses the idea of going to the bathroom for something to treat his wrists with, and Prompto agrees, sniffling and drying the remaining tears on the way through the hallway. Seated on the toilet as Cor finds a potion to use, Prom asks about the man. His throat is stuffy and tight from crying, so it takes him a few tries to get the words properly out. Cor smiles bitterly, breaking the potion over Prompto's extended hands, and tells him he doesn't need to worry about it.

"He's out cold downstairs, I've called Monica to come get him and lock him up. We'll deal with the rest tomorrow." He explains, and Prompto nods, it sounds like a reasonable plan. However, when the doorbell rings, signalling Monica's arrival, Prompto hesitates. He doesn't want to go downstairs. Doesn't want to have to see the man any more times than necessary. Cor gets it, Prompto doesn't even need to say anything, his dad just gets it. Prompto waits upstairs until the man has been taken away, and knowing he's out of the house helps, admittedly not a lot, but it helps. Then Cor yawns, and suggests for them to go to bed, but truth be told Prompto isn't exactly keen on going back to his room tonight. Cor gets that too, and they both end up sleeping on the couch in the living room.

#Whump #bthb #bad things happen bingo #rasko's bthb #chained to bed #final fantasy xv #ffxv whump #prompto argentum #cor leonis #Prompto Argentum whump #stalker #creepy whumper #papa cor

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echo-hiraeth · 4 years

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Chapter 9: Misdemeanour

Part of the “Ilicit Limerence” series

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Summary: A slow Sunday is ruined by a certain someone. The next morning reader returns to the embassy, receiving some rather good news.

Warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, nudity, mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of unrighteous law

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The envelope felt like lead in your hands. You’d opened the door, barely dressed as you rolled out of bed, wrapped in a robe as you freed yourself from your lover’s embrace. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you were handed the big envelope. A lawyer’s name. You just got fucking asked to drop charges. Not really able to move much you gently pushed against the door, listening to the dull noise as it shut on its own.

Opening this envelope would tell you exactly how bad it was. But you were too scared to find out, anxiously picking at your lip as you just stood there, seemingly paralyzed. You knew this was a bad idea, you knew you should’ve just let it be, you fucking knew there was no winning, ever. A heartbroken sob racked through your chest and you clutched a hand over your mouth, not wanting Javier to hear.

Quiet or not, it didn’t matter, he walked out of the bedroom, still nude, stretching his toned arms over his head as he let out a yawn. “Come back to bed, hermosa, it’s still early”, he rasped, voice hoarse with sleep.

You looked at him with tear-stained cheeks, palm practically glued to your mouth. He blinked, not sure of what he was seeing, but as he noticed to brown envelope dangling from your other hand he woke up instantly. You met each other halfway, weeping as he engulfed you in his warmth. His fingers weaved themselves through you hair, chin resting atop of your head as he rocked you back and forth.

It was shock more than anything that had triggered a response like this, a pure panic. He’d seen it before, the night you came back and he wasn’t prepared to have to ever see it again. “I’m here, baby, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere”, he whispered over and over, repeating it like a mantra so that maybe you might just pick up on it.

“I just want it to stop”, you cried out, balling your fists against his chest as you let go of the cursed papers.

The envelope fell to the floor with a soft rustling and in that moment you just wished you could disappear, fall through the wooden floorboards yourself. “I know baby, I know”, he soothed, pulling you in closer.

Your head started hurting from the extensive crying, corners of your eyes stinging as the skin felt raw due to all the rubbing and wiping away of tears. But when the tears stilled, the anger settled in. He could feel it in the way you tensed up, muscles seemingly rejecting his caring touches as he held onto you.

“Let’s sit down, okay? Have something to drink and then we’ll read over it, together”, he promised, kissing your temple.

You sat down at the kitchen counter, splaying your palms against the cold surface, trying to breathe through the sheer blood-boiling rage you felt coursing through your entire body. He picked the envelope off of the floor, throwing it down in front of you as he grabbed a set of glasses from the cupboard. “The case will take place in the states”, you muttered, not daring to look up.

“I know, we can rent an apartment”, he replied, pouring you some water.

“Javi.. this is my mess, you are not-“

He laid his hands over yours, clearing his throat. “I’m your partner now, whatever you’re going through, I’m right there with you.”

His words made you feel the slightest bit better, lip starting to tremble again as you looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”

He dragged your chair closer to his, cupping your face in both his hands. “None of this is on you, preciosa. Whatever that says, it does not define you.”

“You’re so good to me”, you choked out, burying your face in his neck.

Javier struggled with that, his heartstrings tugging on his restraint and self-control. He was just as pissed off as you were, if not more. That scumbag had the guts to threaten a case himself, thinking he could fucking win despite the hard evidence against him. He’d wanted it to happen at a different time – any other time but now, you were finally back on your feet. The entire week at his apartment had been amazing, you’d been on top of the world, as if nothing ever happened. And you’d genuinely deserved that, both of you did.

This wasn’t at all how you’d envisioned your weekend together. The thought of having to go back to work after all of that tomorrow stressful enough on its own. You and Javier had spent a week in pure bliss, tangled up in each other’s limbs and depths, getting closer, both physically and emotionally. The two of you had a dynamic now, a routine together and the domesticity of it was all the stability you’d ever want and need.

“We’ll get a good lawyer, you don’t need to worry about that”, he said before pressing another short kiss to your lips.

You nodded, sliding your fingernail under the hem of the paper, ripping the glue apart. With another shaky breath you pulled the papers out, hands damp with sweat. You looked over at Javier, who gave you an encouraging nod. Your eyes skimmed over the paper, pausing when you read the words “misdemeanour” and “battery”.

“What the fuck”, you gasped, rereading the sentences over and over again.

Javier sat upright, trying to read along with you. “Misde- are they fucking blind? Insufficient evidence? Oh you have got to be kidding me. That is low, even for him”, he spat, kicking his chair back as he went to stand.

“Javi, please sit down”, you sighed, closing your eyes as you felt the room start to spin.

He kicked against the chair, the wood clattering onto the tiles due to the impact. “Man, fuck this!”, he screamed, giving it another punt.

You flinched, keeping your head low as he took some of his frustrations out. “Please stop”, you pleaded, fingers gripping the counter.

He looked at the way you sat and took a step back. “I-I’m going for a drive.”

Before you could so much as look at him he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You’d gone from a serious case to a negotiation regarding “first-degree battery”, with a thousand dollar fine as a suggestion. You knew how sexist the courts could be at times, often ruling in the favour of perpetrators solemnly because of their sex. It was disgusting, several supplied pictures of your bruised and mishandled body deemed as “insufficient evidence”. The added detail of “assault of a pregnant woman” overruled as well. There was a written out response and report, they’d handled it behind your back, putting an end to it before it even started. Insufficient evidence, no witnesses. The response even alluded to self-defence, explaining that in a crazed, hysteric episode you attacked him first, statement backed up by eye-witnesses.

Were you supposed to be happy? Happy that he didn’t charge you? Happy he’d give you a thousand bucks? A thousand bucks could not even begin to make up for the damages, let alone the loss of an entire family.

It was still a proposal though, so you could either accept or fight back. But if even now your sisters and mother were unwilling to side with you, you surely wouldn’t win them on your side under any other circumstances, it was a lost cause and you knew it. This is where it ended, this is where they stopped being family to you, for good. Javier and Steve would egg you on to take it to court, let it drag on, risk losing it all, but if you were completely honest with yourself you knew that all you wanted was for it all to stop. You just wanted to be left alone and forget, supress what had happened, supress years and years of what had been happening. Your father was too far gone, there was no redeeming himself, you’d known this since you were in your teens and yet there was always that small bit of hope that you held onto. But looking at these papers, his name signed neatly at the bottom, you felt it perish. You grabbed the nearest pen, hands trembling with sheer hatred and resent. Fuck him, fuck all of them, is this is what they wanted, they could have it their way. You signed your name on the same line, consenting to the settlement and leaving it at just that.

He’d exerted his control over you way too long and had always won, no matter what you did. The amount of holidays you’d spent on your own, amount of birthdays you celebrated with a bottle of gin or vodka, they’d always won. You were allowed a family of your own and you’d have exactly that, you’d win this time and they would never take it away from you again.

Let them have the case, you had other things here, important things; a real family.

When Javier came back, somewhat cooled off, he found you in the bathroom, on your hands and knees scrubbing along the edges of the tub. You had the radio playing, some man announcing the weather forecast in Spanish. He leaned against the doorframe, the shadow of his towering figure making you look over. You both smiled at each other, though it wasn’t sincere.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper.. I just.. it ticks me off – a lot”, he confessed, crossing his arms in front of him.

You nodded, averting your gaze to focus on the porcelain once again. “I signed.”

“You did what?”, he asked in a monotone voice, standing up straight now.

“I signed”, you repeated, getting up off the ground and walking up to him. “I’m done with the games. He can have it his way if that means I’ll never have to see any of them again.”

He didn’t like that, but a part of him actually understood. “Are you sure this is what you want?”, he asked, no sly or ironic undertone, he was genuine.

“I want to be happy and a lengthy and expensive court case that I probably won’t even win just isn’t that”, you explained, pushing past him with the bucket of cleaning supplies.

He trailed after you, eyes glued to your form as you moved around the kitchen. “I know it won’t be easy, but you’ve got a good case, you could make a difference.”

“Listen, I made my decision and I’m not really in the mood to go back and forth about it. So you can either shut up about or go bitch to someone else”, you snarled, finger pointing towards the door.

His face faltered a bit at your words, taken aback by your brashness. “I just think it would be better for you to think about it some more.”

“Javier. Quit”, you sighed, turning your back towards him. “I don’t expect you to understand but I really don’t want this to drag on. Whether I win or lose against him in front of a judge, it’ll never actually fix anything. So instead of wasting my time away being miserable and anxious all the time, I’d rather spend it here, with you and Connie and Steve, Olivia.”

He came up behind you, spinning you around to face him. “You know I’ll support you no matter what. And if this is what you really want, then I’ll let it go, but I need you to look me in the eyes when you tell me.”

You put a hand on his cheek, looking into his brown eyes as you said exactly what you’d told him before: you were putting an end to it. “I want to start anew. I want a clean sheet with you, with this”, you whispered, bringing his hand to your swollen stomach.

He hadn’t ever touched you there since finding out you were pregnant and something about it felt surprisingly soothing, grounding, unreal. He could tell there was somewhat of a curve going on, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards as he kept his fingers there, lips colliding with yours.

“A new start”, he repeated, leaning back in.

The next morning was pure chaos, the two of you struggling to get ready in time. Today was important, your first day back and your first day with the new ambassador, who knew nothing about you, your condition or your relation to Javier. You took your breakfast into the car, your heated time in the shower having you run late. You handed Javier a sandwich as you quickly buttoned up your blouse.

“That is really distracting”, Javier tutted, stopping at the red light, a hand comfortable resting on your thigh.

You threw him a glare, stealing his sandwich to sneak a bite. “Your fault! You wanted to have sex, now we’re running late.”

“From what I remember”, he started, stuffing the rest of the sandwich in his mouth “you were the one begging me not to stop.”

“Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I won’t dropkick you”, you jested, fully buttoned-up.

He turned his head, flashing you an irresistibly handsome smirk. “Oh honey, keep it up and I might just have to bend you over your own desk.”

“Javier! Keep it in your fucking pants, will you”, you scolded, chuckling slightly.

He parked the car, taking his hand of your thigh in the process. “I like driving you to work, hermosa”, he mumbled, jerking the handbrake.

“Hmm, why’s that?”, you asked, fixing your hair and make-up in the rear view mirror.

“Beeecaauuse I get to do”, he leaned over the console, resting a hand on the back of your neck, “this.”

His lips moved against yours in a slow, passionate pace, tongue slightly pressing up against you, asking for permission. You allowed him the entrance, grabbing a hold of his shirt as he deepened the kiss, stroking your tongue with his. He squeezed the inside of your thigh as he leaned back, biting his lip as you let out a whimper.

“You’re the worst”, you sighed, the heat between your legs incredibly prominent as he dragged his fingertips over your throat.

Another embrace, lips grazing your neck. “C’mon let’s head inside.”

There was bouquet of flowers, courtesy of the office lads, displayed on your desk. You felt a blush creep up as you walked over, reaching out for the card. It read <We missed you! Glad to have you back!>. You grinned from ear to ear, bending down to smell the freshly cut blooms.

“Oh wow”, you gasped, closing your eyes as the sweet smell filled your lungs. “I-I don’t know what to say..”, you stuttered, looking down at the array of coloured petals.

“Thank you, for a start”, somebody spoke.

You whipped your head around. “Lopez! Of course!”, you giggled, returning his hug.

Javier watched from the side, rolling his eyes and scoffing as Steve just laughed away. He knew the office was up to something, but a fucking bundle of flowers? That crossed a line for him. Flowers were a boyfriend thing in his mind, for Valentine’s and birthdays or when there was something to make up.

But it was when he watched the other man’s hand slide down you lower back that he really got annoyed. “We have work to do, if you don’t mind.”

The man let go of you, giving a polite nod before walking off once again. “Hoo-hoo, I’d pay to see that face of yours again”, Steve pestered him.

You engulfed the blonde in a bone-crushing hug. “How’re the girls?”

“Loud and proud. How’s the little troublemaker?”, he asked, watching as Javier sat down at his desk, lighting a cigarette.

“Still kicking my ass. Getting real tired of the nausea and vertigo”, you sighed, absentmindedly trailing a finger over the button of your jeans.

Steve nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder to convey his sympathy. “Any triggers? Connie told me some women react very strongly to certain foods.”

“Oh, just try to keep your coffee and cigarettes out of my face for now. Thank you for asking though”, you said, bumping your shoulder with his.

The morning was slow, despite Javier filling you in at night the past week, you were still expected to attend a briefing. It became rather clear that there was a lot of pressure going around, Pablo closing in on his deal, his surrender. On paper it was nice, the biggest threat locked away behind bars, but that didn’t take care of anything. It was a stunt more than anything, something to appease to the public and feign peace.

It was just like what you’d gone through that weekend, there was no winning in this. “Imprisoned” or not, Escobar’s empire would still stand, whether he directed his men behind bars or not. At this point the decision was out of the DEA’s hands, to everyone’s greatest annoyance and it wasn’t looking good. It was within the government’s best interest to agree to the ridiculous terms, trying to rebuild their image. So a different decision was made, if the DEA couldn’t get Pablo, they’d get all the other sicarios and intel they could get their hands on.

Throughout the day you found out that ambassador Noonan was still there. She called you into her office, wanting to have a chat with you. The conversation came down to your current position and limitations and she informed you that so long as you were comfortable doing so, you were perfectly fine to go into the field. You both agreed that your sudden disappearance from stake outs might come off as suspicious, and that any possible corrupted fellow agents might catch word of what was truly happening. You agreed to work alongside Peña and Murphy until you were visibly showing or too exhausted, sick, restricted – whatever to keep doing so. You wouldn’t be chasing anyone, just show up and tag along to keep up appearances.

Javier was not on board with this and had to resits the urge to storm into that office and knock some sense into his superior. It wasn’t until you’d sat him down after dinner and explained the entire philosophy behind it that he actually listened.

“You’re telling me the best way to keep you safe if to put you directly in harm’s way?”, he asks, reaching for a cigarette.

You grasp the packet before he can reach it, tossing it aside. “Yes. Not attending raids will raise questions, questions too dangerous to answer. We do this for a couple of months and go from there.”

“I don’t know hermosa”, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Specify attending raids.”

“Sit back, stay close to the armoured car and look pretty in a bulletproof vest”, you chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

He let out an exaggerated sigh, bumping his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna be the death of me, baby.”

You captured his pouty lips in a kiss, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you. “I have laundry to do”, you breathed, closing your eyes as he held you against his chest.

“Did you really have to bring those fucking flowers into our apartment?”

You let out a laugh in the crook of his neck. “Last time I checked I’m the one paying rent, you freeloader.”

“Two places is gonna be costly in a couple of months and we practically already live together”, he explained, pushing some of your hair behind your left ear.

“You asking me to move in with you?”, you questioned, trying to keep yourself from grinning.

“Well, I’m more asking if I can move in with you”, he replied, leaning down to peck your nose.

You hummed in response, freeing yourself from his embrace to lean on the counter. “Won’t you miss your apartment? It’s quite a bit closer to the embassy.”

“Which is exactly why yours is better. And I won’t have to listen to Steve and Connie going at it every once a month”, he admitted, slowly shaking his head.

“Once a month? Ooh, that’s rough”, you joked.

He tilted his head in amusement, smirking as he looked back up at you. “Didn’t you have some laundry to get to?”

“Keep that up and you’ll get once a month too Peña”, you quipped, throwing the wet kitchen towel at his face. “Buuuut if you help me, I can give it to you tonight.”

“Oh baby, please. I’ll have you begging for me by the end of it.”

And beg you did. Legs wrapped around his waist, the vibrations of the washing machine sending waves of pleasure through you. You’d started by emptying the dryer while Javi filled the washing machine. And as soon as it turned on, he grabbed a hold of your waist and put your right on top of it. You were writing underneath him, moaning with every roll of his hips. His mouth was on your neck, rightfully marking what was his as he sped up his movements.

“J-Javi please”, you pleaded “more.”

He jerked you forward, having you balance on the edge, angling his thrusts even more upward. You surged forward as he hit deeper, reaching something inside that had you clinging onto him. His hands gripped onto your ass, keeping you in place as the machine rumbled beneath you.

“Gonna need you to cum, hermosa”, he ordered, out of breath as he dipped a hand between the front of your legs, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit.

You were a whimpering mess now, choking out his name as his hips started to stammer, desperately chasing his oncoming orgasm. He let out a series of low, husky, guttural groans as he bit down on your shoulder, coating your heat with his release. You followed soon after, the sharp pain in your shoulder sending you over the edge. Your toes curled behind his back, legs squeezing his sides as you let out a loud and melodical moan.

He stumbled forward a bit, caging you in as he regained his balance. “Shit – that was intense”, he exhaled, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah.. that one’s gonna hurt tomorrow”, you panted, running your hands through his damp hair. “Hand me that towel, please?”

He leaned over, grabbing the towel off the drying rack, making some other stuff fall in the process. “No chasing, just showing up?”, he checked again.

“Just showing up, bulletproof vest on at all times”, you reassured him, throwing the dirty towel into the hamper.

He helped you off of the washer, giving your butt a smack as you stood in front of him again. “You ride with me, always. I need to be able to see you, understood?”

“I’m your girlfriend, not your liability”, you joked, playfully hitting him in the chest. “What’s that?”, you questioned, bending down to pick something up off the floor.

Javier hesitated, putting his hands over yours as he gave you a sheepish grin. “It’s just something I got at the market last time we went. I-it’s stupid really.”

You opened your hands, looking down to get a closer look. They’re little socks, striped-socks. “Javi.. when did you get this?”, you asked, voice rising in pitch as you started feeling a little emotional.

“You were talking to some vendor and I just – I thought they looked cute and-“

He was shut up as you smashed your lips into his. “I love them.”

Taglist: @pedritomando @peterhollandkait @ophelia-ingenue @radiowallet @phoenixhalliwell @diogodxlot @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @asta-lily @the-bottom-of-the-abyss

#illicit limerence #javier peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #imagine #pedro pascal #javier pena

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petertingle-yipyip · 4 years

Text

Selfish - Peter Parker

//Absolutely not requested. This idea came to me SO randomly but I really liked it so. first two anons are what i sent her, and the last one is what someone else sent her regarding my concept.//

//Tags: @stuckonspidey // Warnings: Language, violence //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader; Spiderman x Villain!Reader)

Word Count: 9,935

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N never cared for her father, Tony Stark. After growing up without him in her life, she grew to despise him and the Avengers. She finds solace in causing chaos, including (but not limited to) constantly ruining a certain webbed-hero’s night. The thing is Y/N and Peter are dating, and neither of them know each other’s secret.

You never liked the sound of Y/N Stark. It felt fabricated, like a person you were never meant to be. If you had been raised by the billionaire, your life would be exceptionally different. You wouldn’t be enrolled at Midtown with your friends. You wouldn’t have met Peter the way you had, wouldn’t have fallen in love with him. You didn’t feel bad about not liking the sound of your father’s last name paired with yours. And from what you could tell, Tony Stark didn’t like the sound of it either.

Your mom was the one who made the decision to raise you away from Tony. She explained it to you when you were still in elementary school, when Iron Man first started gaining traction with the public. You had thought she was kidding. There was no way your absentee father was Iron Man. It seemed too convenient, but she even showed you your birth certificate. Sure enough, his name was on it where the father’s name usually goes.

So, you grew up knowing you were Tony Stark’s daughter. It always made you wonder how many other estranged Stark children were there. But you also knew Tony Stark didn’t care about you or your mother. He sent birthday cards, a credit card with the note “Go nuts. -TS” was included when you turned fifteen. Your mom said he paid a year’s rent for you at the beginning of every year. She swore your father was a good person, but all you saw was a joke.

Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. But never known to the public as a father. He was everyone’s hero, everyone’s savior. Where would New York be without Iron Man? You always thought it’d be about the same. You grew up great without Tony Stark. New York would be fine.

You thought it was ironic that he could put himself on the line time after time to protect the world, a place full of people he’d never meet, from threats, but he couldn’t meet his own child. It made you feel unwanted, ignored, rejected, and forgotten. Spiteful even as you grew older and understood things for what they really were. You had even started to wonder if his secretary was sending the cards and he was just signing them. But that feeling, that gnawing bitterness that lived in your chest, it grew into actions. But being Stark’s kid had one upside. You were a genius.

You were able to develop multiple pieces of tech, ones that were just dangerous enough that you could make some trouble. You created a vocal manipulator, able to manipulate your voice across different frequencies and toy with people’s sense of hearing. You were able to create a neurotransmitter that you could embed in a knife’s handle so you could direct it once it left your hand. You were also able to use some of those deep Stark pockets to get professional level martial arts, knife-throwing, and singing classes.

You found a way to develop highly responsive shoe inserts, able to add 18 inches to your vertical jump and absorb most if not all of the sound of you walking. You were able to create a number of highly potent, easily absorbed solutions with a variety of functions. A paralyzing agent. A temporary bronchiole restrictor. Another that forces one to tell the truth. Five variations of sensory deprivation, one for each human sense. And your newest, a neurotoxin that activates pain receptors across the body. All of your concoctions were temporary, that much you made sure of. You didn’t want to kill anyone or cause any long term damage. More often than not, you just wanted to ruin their night.

Since your dad was a hero, you wondered if it was your path in life to be a hero as well. A local hero, like Spiderman. You had thought about it when you first started toying with chemicals, using your new solutions for good. Maybe even help people. But the thought of being in the same column as your father, being part of the superhero world, it made you sick to your stomach.

You were disgusted with the whole concept of heros. A group of people with martyr complexes who wanted glitz, glam, and glory in exchange for “risking their lives” to save the world. It was ridiculous. No sane person would stand against aliens, high tech monsters, and god knew what else because it was the “right thing to do”. You didn’t even believe Captain America really meant that.

So, you decided to be a troublemaker. Use your brain and your anger to wreak havoc. You never had any intent of keeping it up long term, more of a temporary deal to blow off steam when you were especially pent up. But that was before you met Spiderman.

“Little late to be out, isn’t it?” He said casually, leaning on the wall in front of you.

“Piss off, dude.” You smiled sweetly. Your mask hid your eyes, the reflective fabric showing only a gray screen. “Don’t you have an old lady to help across the street?”

“You know, you seem a little young to be out right now.” He countered. “Don’t kids have a curfew?”

“Coming from the boy who sounds like he hasn’t even hit puberty?” You laughed. Your hand subtly slid to the high collar of your suit, adjusting the sewn in meter to the deeper end of the vocal scale. “Mind your business.” Your voice came out deeper, more threatening and with an added bass that wasn’t auditorily picked up.

“Woah.” Spiderman said in amazement. “Your voice changed!”

“What?” You said after sliding the meter to normal, shock obvious in your voice. “You heard the difference?”

“Well, yeah.” He shrugged, his voice cracking. “I kind of have, like, super senses.”

“Huh.” You nodded slowly, formulating a new plan. You carefully crossed your arms over your chest and activated one of your neuro-linked blades. “Are all of your senses heightened?”

“Yeah.” He began explaining. “Even my brain works different.”

“Your brain was changed?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda like- I don’t know. It's hard to explain.”

“Hmm.. Tell me, how does this feel?”

Before Spiderman could say another word, you sent a knife, soaked in your new pain serum, into his side. You smiled wickedly as he fell against the wall, obviously in pain all over but not knowing why. You called your blade back as you walked away, proud of the outcome.

You texted your boyfriend as you walked home. You figured he’d be asleep or working on his stupid Stark Industries internship so you didn’t expect an answer right away.

Peter’s phone went off as he was left leaning against the bricks for support. He felt like he had been slammed against a building, worse than when he left the airport in Germany. Whatever was on that blade had his entire body in pain, as if every place where he could feel pain, he did.

It didn’t wear off for what felt like hours. Peter couldn’t even focus to swing home. He had to walk the 12 blocks and clumsily climb the fire escape to get to his bedroom. Once there, he was able to slide out of the suit and lay curled in a ball on his own bed. He finally was able to check his phone, and a message from his girlfriend was there to make him smile.

pretty girl🤩💛: hey petey. heading to bed. that chem work had me physically in pain lmaoo. meet in the morning to go over it?

pretty girl🤩💛: i love youuuu. good night bby xx 🥰🤍💓

He managed to send his replies before giving in to the now dulling pain and falling asleep.

As you were tucking your own suit and weapons away, you received a text from Peter.

lover boy🥵❤️: okay same :( come over when youre ready and we’ll walk to school.

lover boy🥵❤️: i love you more

lover boy🥵❤️: 😘😘🖤🖤

The next morning he stood in front of his mirror, examining his side. There was no scar from the blade, only a deep purple bruise from the healing. Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from last night. He was amazed that she could manipulate her voice the way that she did and he didn't even remember seeing her hand move to throw the knife. The biggest thing that stuck out to him was how familiar she seemed. He could almost swear that he knew her, that he knew her voice. He felt it in his bones, in his sixth sense.

You got ready quickly for school, greeting your mom on the way out of the apartment.

“There’s mail for you.” Your mom nodded to the two envelopes on your kitchen counter. When you stopped to examine them, she slid a plate of food towards you. “Since I know you didn’t eat much last night.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You smiled, picking up a pancake in one hand and an envelope in the other. “It’s a Stark Industries letter. Throw this one out.” You tossed it to the side.

“Sweetheart, maybe Tony is trying to be in your life.” She said softly. “You should give him a chance. I think you’d like him.”

“I don’t think I would.” You shook your head with a mouth full of pancake. “He can’t go around trying to save the world and then try to do things for us in the shadows. I’m not gonna be here as a piece to his redemption.”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry.” You said honestly, knowing you shouldn’t have cut her off. “If you still have love for him, that’s great. Hold on to that. But I just can’t feel love for someone who hasn’t interacted with me through more than a birthday card.”

“Just open the letter, please.” She said sweetly, pushing the Stark Industries letter towards you. “Maybe it’s not about Tony.”

You sighed gently, putting down your breakfast to open the letter. You dropped the torn envelope on the table and unfolded the paper. “Miss Y/N Y/L/N, we hope this letter finds you well.” You began reading out loud. You offered your mom a look that said you didn’t want to continue reading, that you didn’t feel like it would mean anything. She nodded eagerly, telling you to continue. “Everyone at Stark Industries is highly impressed with the grades that you received from Midtown School of Science and Technology. Mr. Tony Stark would like to personally offer you a summer opp-” You laughed and threw the letter in the trash, heading to your room for your backpack.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you get back here.” Your mother said firmly.

“Mom, that letter is a joke.” You replied, throwing your backpack over your shoulder. “Tony wants to ‘personally offer me a summer opportunity’? That’s bullshit.”

“Don’t cuss at me.”

“Sorry!”

“Tony and I just thought-”

“You knew about this!?” You said loudly. “Why would you do that? You know how I feel about him and Stark Industries and the Avengers. It’s bad enough that Peter has that stupid Stark Industries internship. Why would I want one?”

“Will you at least talk to him?” She tried. You could see the sadness in her eyes, the pain from the broken family. She still loved Tony, that much was clear. And you knew it was valid for her to still love him. You just couldn’t forgive a man who didn’t want to be forgiven. But it was for your mother, the woman who raised you. The woman who left the man she loved so you could grow up normal. You knew it wasn’t fair to put her in the middle of your one-sided feud with your father, so you gave in.

“Yeah.” You sighed in defeat. “I guess I can have one conversation with the man. But I won’t go to him… If he wants to talk, he can come to us. And I won’t talk to him through a phone call.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this for you.” You added, holding your arms out for a hug. “I’m heading out a little early. Peter’s gonna go over the chem work from last night with me.”

“You finished it, right?” She asked as you headed towards the door.

“Yes, ma’am.” You nodded, offering a salute as your goodbye. “Love ya.”

“Are you coming home or going to Peter’s?” She called as the door was shutting behind you.

“I’ll call you and let you know.” You answered quickly before heading to Peter’s apartment.

You reached his apartment with about fifteen minutes left before you two would have to start heading to school. You knocked twice before May ushered you in. She gestured to Peter’s room, saying he was still getting dressed. You smiled, hugged her quickly, and headed into his room.

“Petey?” You knocked quickly before entering. “You decent?” You covered your eyes until the door was shut behind you.

“Y/N! Hi!” He said quickly. When you put your hand down, you saw him shirtless. You had only caught a glimpse of the deep purple bruise on his side but that was enough to draw your attention. He noticed your eyes on his tender injury but quickly tried to brush it off. “I went to help May with dinner last night and I fell into the edge of the counter.”

“You fell? In the kitchen?” You asked carefully, watching his face for his reaction.

“Yeah!” His voice cracked. “Yeah, I slipped in my socks.” He laughed nervously.

“Hmm.” You nodded slowly, not believing his story but not thinking of any other way he’d get a bruise that deep. Unless he took up a contact sport without telling you. “Want me to kiss it better?” You teased.

“Well, if you’re offering.” He smirked.

You skipped over to him and went up on your toes to kiss him quickly. When you pulled away, he pouted. “That’s it?” He whined.

“Aw. Does it still hurt, baby?” You joked.

“Mhmm.” He nodded, hitting you with his big puppy dog eyes and pursed bottom lip.

You chuckled lightly as he kissed you again, one of his hands finding your hair to hold you in place for a few moments longer.

“Anyways…” You smiled when you pulled away. “Can I see the chem work from last night?”

“It’s on the desk.” He nodded towards his cluttered workspace before rummaging through his closet for a shirt.

Everything else that day was normal. School went quick and you went to Peter’s afterwards. You two got food from Delmar’s on the way to his place. You struggled through your calculus work as Peter breezed through his. He talked you through some of the problems and you helped him with his English writing assignment. You two laughed and joked and teased each other until it was time for you to go home.

That night, you suited up and wandered the streets. You had no real intentions as you walked the familiar streets you grew up on. You simply wanted to be alone with your thoughts for the night. Sure, it was easy to lock yourself in your room and muddle in your messy thoughts, but you weren’t truly alone. Your mom would be home, checking on you or coming in to show you something funny she found on Facebook. So once she was asleep, you took off.

You wanted to do something big that night, something that could distract your mind until the next morning. You had ended up in front of Peter’s apartment building when you looked around to make up a plan. With no ideas, you climbed the fire escape until you reached the top of the building. You kicked your feet over the edge, flicking a knife into the distance and calling it back.

“This is an oddly specific spot for you to be.” Spiderman’s voice came from behind you. You dropped your hand, letting the knife fly past you towards the spandex-clad figure behind you. You stopped it about an inch in front of his face. You stood slowly, taking a deep breath to gather your composure before turning to face him.

“Are you stalking me?” You teased, walking slow circles around the bug-themed hero. “I’m a little creeped out, not gonna lie.”

“I- I wasn’t- I just-” Spiderman stammered.

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged, bringing your knife back to your hand. You tucked it away and looked back to Spiderman. “I’ve had a rough day and I’m gonna take it out on you.”

“What? Why-” He began, but before he could finish his sentence, your fist had connected with his jaw.

“Why?” You laughed, aiming another punch that he ducked. “Because all you heroes are the same. You think-” Another well-aimed punch. “-you can swoop in-” A swift kick to the ribs. “-uninvited-” He swung a fist back but you ducked under, twisting his arm over your shoulder and flipping him onto his back. “-and expect everyone to thank you.”

He jumped up quickly before speaking again. “What did I do to you?” He exclaimed, yelping as you aimed a kick for his head that he barely ducked.

Peter didn’t understand why he was taking so long to react. Usually his mind could process and guess where his opponent would strike before they made a move. But when he was fighting this new girl, he had no idea how to fight back. All he could do was defend. “I don’t even know you.”

“No, but I know you.” You laughed, pushing your gloved fingers through your hair. The sentence sent a wave of panic through Peter’s body, bracing for you to expose him but it never came.You hadn’t planned on any fighting, so you didn’t make a point to put it up before you left the house. You now regretted that choice, a thin layer of sweat making your baby hairs stick to your face. “You’re all the same. You think you’re doing your part to make the world better but all you do is abandon your family.”

“Abandon…” Spiderman repeated, his mind racing to put it all together. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” You shrugged. “I’ll come face to face with him soon enough. For now, you need to worry about who’s hurting you.” You quickly flicked a knife at him, one dipped in a sensory deprivator. You were pretty sure it was the sight, but you couldn’t quite remember.

“What the-” He exclaimed, reaching his hands out in front of him. “How did- What did you do?”

“Sensory deprivation.” You said smoothly, walking to pull the knife out. “It was hard to perfect these ones without testing them on myself, if I’m being honest… It’d be too obvious to the people around me what I was up to.”

“I can’t- I can’t see! I can’t see.” He repeated, panic rising in his voice. You almost felt bad for him, like you had taken it too far. Something about the octave of his voice, the speech pattern, it felt familiar and that made the regret that much worse. Not only that, but it made you realize something. He was young, maybe as young as you were. “H- How- How long- How long is this gonna last?”

“About an hour.” You said slowly. You sighed gently, adjusting the pitch of your voice a bit higher. You knelt beside him, carefully putting your hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be alright.” You said with a slight tune to your voice.

You had picked up the singing lessons as a hobby, but you had quickly learned how easy a man would fall for a song. Using your tech and skills, you were like a modern day siren, manipulating men with a simple tune. Only when you used it on Spiderman, you didn’t use it to hurt him.

Peter was in a state of pure panic. He had never been without his sight before, and being on top of his apartment building, with an expert knife thrower that had a vendetta against heroes only made his nerves worse. He had no idea what her plans for him were. He wasn’t even completely sure of what she was capable of. Everytime he encountered her, she had something new to throw at him. As far as he could tell, she wanted him dead. She could throw him off the roof right now and he’d be as good as dead.

He was already on his knees, having collapsed from the knife landing in his thigh. He felt her hand on his shoulder and he flinched, raising his hands in a quick defense. But instead, a soft tune found his ears, a gentle promise that he’d be okay. He didn’t know why it made him feel a bit calmer, but it seemed to slow his mind. It reminded him that it was only temporary.

So, he gave in to the loss of sight. He gave in to the new nothing and allowed his sixth sense to take over. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to fight anymore, but he was ready for it.

“You’re young, aren’t you?” You asked when you saw some of the tension leave his body. “Everyone says you could be any age, but I don’t think you’re that much older than I am.”

“Now you care?” Spiderman scoffed.

“Wow, sorry.” You rolled your eyes.

“You literally just blinded me and I’m supposed to be nice to you?”

“Just forget I asked, damn.” You pushed yourself up and turned to face him. “It’d be so easy to end all of this right now. You’re blind, defenseless really. You’d never see my attacks coming… And maybe it’d make me feel better to take one hero out of this world.”

“Take your best shot.” Spiderman challenged.

You lifted an eyebrow, wondering if it had worn off already. But there was a slight falter in his movements, confirming that he was still blinded. So, you went for it. You threw punches and kicks, some connecting while some were dodged. He had landed a few good shots on you, one causing you to bite your own cheek. You spit the blood out, nodding in respect to him, before attacking again.

You used one blade, gripped tightly in reverse so your swings had a bit of an edge to them. You opted against any puncturing or any coated blades, deciding to hurt him by brute force this time around. He was able to block a decent amount of swipes, hitting your forearm with his. Spiderman was a tough opponent, eventually pinning you near the edge of the building.

“Go on then.” You breathed heavily. Spiderman had the hand with the blade pinned under one knee while he had his foot against your chest. He was careful not to put too much on his weight against you, but he made sure you couldn’t escape. “Throw me over and be done with it.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He exclaimed breathlessly in shock. “I’m not gonna throw you off a building!”

Despite the slices, throbbing bruises, and fuzzy vision, Peter still didn’t want to hurt whoever she was. She obviously wasn’t grown, had no real intent on hurting people. She was just… troubled.

“That’s where you and I-” You managed to get your knees between your bodies. “-are not the same.” You shoved roughly, flipping him over and off the building.

His scream echoed through the alley, until a harsh thud against the fire escape silenced it. You waited, catching your breath and steadying your racing heart and mind. You soon realized that you just threw Spiderman off the roof of an apartment complex… You rolled over quickly, sliding off the building and down a few of the fire escapes until you saw where he had landed, on his back but moving.

“I’m okay.” He groaned, trying to push himself up but failing. “I’m just gonna lay here for a while. Do you- Ah. Do you have a name?”

“Yeah, uh.” She said carefully as she got closer. “They call me Heretic.”

Peter laid on the cold metal in pain. Pain all over. His vision had returned thanks to his advanced healing, but was made blurry by the hit to his head. His spine ached, his lungs trying to refill after having everything knocked out of them. He watched as the girl’s figure slid down the side of the building via the fire escapes until she had past him. She was careful not to step on him, and he was grateful for that. Glancing over, he realized that he was outside his apartment so he rolled inside and laid on the floor.

“Heretic.” He repeated her name. “Cool.”

You made your way home quickly, practically running from your latest mistake. You had almost killed Spiderman. Throwing him off the roof was one thing. You knew he had the reflexes to save himself, but throwing him off while he was blinded was too dangerous. You had taken things too far, and that kid almost paid for it.

“Heretic, what the hell was I thinking?” You mumbled as you walked. “Fucking Heretic. I mean, it’s not terrible but giving yourself a name commits you to this character.” You nagged yourself. “Now, you have to keep this up. At least till Spiderman gets bored and leaves you alone.”

The next day, you woke for school and found yourself greeted with a black eye. You sighed, knowing you’d need to explain it to your mom and Peter. You covered it up as best you could but the deep purple leaked through your best cover up.

“What happened to your eye?” Peter asked when he saw you that morning.

He had noticed more than that. He just didn’t want to say anything about it, not yet at least. He noticed you looked tired, progressively getting worse as the week played out. He had started to wonder if you had been sleeping. Maybe you had too much on your plate and it was catching up to you. He was hoping it was nothing too bad, maybe a few nights of sleep and a date night could fix.

“I had softball practice last night” You began explaining the lie you thought of on your way to school. The team wasn’t a lie, Peter had been to plenty of your games. Only the practice last night would be the lie. “Well, I was pitching last night and Missa hit a liner right back at me. I barely got my glove up in time so it didn’t break my nose.”

“Nice black eye.” Flash mocked as he passed.

“You want one to match?” You threatened with a smile.

Peter took you by your hand, pulling you down the hall. He led you around the corner to a less crowded hall and looked at you in concern. You crossed your arms once his grip on you was gone, chewing the inside of your cheek. His eyes were soft, eyebrows furrowed. He scanned your face for some hint as to what was wrong, but he came up empty.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” He asked carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You snapped.

“Y/N.” He tried.

“Peter.” You replied in the same tone.

“I’m serious!” He urged, his hands tugging his backpack straps. “You usually ignore Flash or just flip him off. You look like you haven’t slept in days. What’s going on?”

“My dad.” You gave in, offering half of a truth. “He reached out the other day. Him and my mom got together and thought it’d be good for me to get to know him. He offered me a summer job.”

“Is that what has you freaked out?” He sighed in relief. “Jeez, Y/N. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Cause I don’t wanna do it.” You shrugged. “I’m only doing it for my mom. She still loves the jerk.”

“You’ve never told me anything about your dad.” He tried, seeing if he could get you to talk through it. As you opened your mouth to speak, the bell rang.

“That’s our cue to go.” You gestured to the intercoms above you. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Promise you won’t dodge it?” Peter said accusingly, pointing a finger at you.

“I do not dodge.” You defended, but Peter’s stare convinced you otherwise. “Okay, maybe I dodge a little.”

“Pinky promise.” He held out his pinky. “Pinky promise me right now that you’re not gonna avoid this and we’re gonna talk about it?”

“Seriously?” You smiled.

“Yes, seriously.” He chuckled. “Pinky promises are sacred!”

“I pinky promise.” You hooked your pinky around his. “You know, if you don’t kiss to seal a pinky promise, it doesn’t count.”

“Really?” He furrowed his brows, releasing your pinky to tug you forward by your belt loops. “Never heard that one before.”

“Mhmm.” You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his backpack straps and gently pulling his lips to yours. “It’s a new thing that started like five seconds ago.” You smiled before placing your lips against his.

“I love you.” He mumbled against your lips.

“I love you too.” You replied gently when he pulled away.

“Parker! Y/L/N!” You heard Mr. Dell yelling from down the hall. “If you two don’t get to class right now, I swear you will be in detention for a month!”

You screamed softly, grabbing Peter’s hand and running off to class. The first half of your day was easy enough. Your classes were simply going over projects or introducing new topics. You took easy notes, trying to ignore Peter’s concerned stares. You noticed bruises along your knuckles as you wrote, feeling pain every time you gripped your pen. You hoped Peter didn’t see the flex of your hand, but you had a feeling he did. Peter seemed to notice everything.

During lunch, Peter pulled you to the bleachers by the football field. You resisted, telling him you didn’t want to talk about it at the time. He ignored you. Peter refused to allow you to avoid it, gripping your wrist tight enough so you couldn’t slip out but not tight enough to hurt you.

“Peter, will you stop?” You sighed, uselessly trying to tug your arm out his grip.

“No, cause you’re gonna bail!” He countered, leading you to the top of the bleachers. “Sit down.”

You glared at him as you crossed your arms defiantly.

“Please.” He said softly, his eyes pleading.

You sighed slightly, caving to his soft expression. You dropped into a seat beside him, dramatically dropping your hands into your lap. You tilted your head to look at him as you waited for his questions.

“What happened to your hands?” He started with.

“What about them?” You asked, lifting your now makeup covered hands. You used a bathroom break during the only class between morning and lunch you had without Peter to quickly cover the bruises.

“In Physics when you were taking notes, you kept making a noise when you held your pen. Like it hurt.” He pressed.

“I shut my finger in my window last night…” You said quietly, as if you were embarrassed.

Peter was growing more and more suspicious of your sudden injuries. He knew you had been playing softball for years and wore a facemask when you pitched. He knew you didn’t open your window at night because you didn’t like moths getting into your room. He was starting to wonder if something else was going on, something you couldn’t tell him.

“What about your dad?” He changed the subject, deciding he’d hang around your apartment later that night on patrol.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you who he was.” You laughed in annoyance. “Everybody knows my dad.”

“Your dad is a celebrity?” Peter teased with half a smile.

“Oh, ha ha.” You mocked with a smile. “I’m serious!”

“I know, I know.” He chuckled. “Okay. Who is he?”

“See, you know him.” You argued, trying to find a way to tell Peter without telling Peter. “I mean, I never made it obvious that you knew him but you do… You met him kinda recently…”

“The only celebrity I’ve met recently is Mr. Stark.” Peter answered in confusion. You cringed slightly, covering your eyes and shaking your head. “Mr. Stark is you d-”

“Shut up!” You hurried to cover his mouth. “Why do you think I never told anyone!? Tony never cared about me before so I don’t acknowledge that we’re family.”

“Y/N, that is awesome!” He geeked.

“No, it fucking sucks.” You countered. “Pete, my mom left him when I was born because she didn’t want to be part of what Stark Industries does. Did. And then he went and made the Iron Man suit and became a hero.” You rolled your eyes. “He was the biggest weapons supplier in the country and suddenly he’s the good guy? It’s bullshit.”

“Mr. Stark is a good guy.” Peter defended gently, a slight shrug in his shoulders.

“I’m glad you like him.” You said honestly. “My mom still likes him too… I just can’t. You know how I feel about that whole superhero stuff.”

“I mean..” Peter casually shrugged. “Not all superheros are bad… Y’know, like Spiderman.”

“Yeah, Spiderman.” You scoffed, remembering the reason behind your lingering black eye and bruised knuckles. “I’m sure he’s great.”

“You don’t like Spiderman either?” Peter asked sadly.

“It’s nothing personal!” You argued quickly. “I mean, he’s probably some random guy pushing his mid-20’s that thought he could make it big time with Captain America and Iron Man. But from someone who has seen it, Tony Stark doesn’t care about the little guy.” You covered.

“I- I wouldn’t say Mr. Stark doesn’t care.”

“I would.” You confirmed. “Peter, you and I obviously know two different Tony Starks. And that’s fine. You met one who actually wants to mentor and care about a kid. I’ve never even met the one I know so... I guess we’ll see how it goes when he comes to town in a few days.”

“Right…” Peter trailed off, turning his attention to his food.

Pete had always known how you felt about heroes. He knew you were never their biggest fan, but you never really explained why. Peter never pressed the issue because he figured that you would tell him when you wanted, and he didn’t want to risk exposing his alter ego. But knowing that you hated heroes because your dad was Iron Man only made things more complicated. He started to wonder if Mr. Stark knew he was dating you. He wondered if Mr. Stark was purposefully absent in your life. Peter felt like he was in the middle of a war, being urged to pick a side. Peter wanted to be Switzerland, to remain neutral.

Later that night, you left your apartment building in your costume. You wandered aimlessly, not knowing what you were even doing on the streets anymore. You felt like your alter ego was a chore now, something you had to keep up for Spiderman’s sake and less of your own. You blew out a defeated sigh, realizing another idealized figure in a mask had swallowed an aspect of your life.

With no other outlets, you turned and slammed your fist through the glass of a nearby bus stop. The remaining fragments showed an etched image of Spiderman. The shards dripped, the yellow glow of a nearby streetlight giving the blood an unnatural hue. You shook your hand, a stinging sensation shooting through.

“Son of a bitch.” You mumbled, knocking out the rest of the glass. You held your hand close to your chest, pressing hard with the other to slow the bleeding.

“We’ve really gotta stop meeting like this.” A familiar voice came from above you. Looking up, you saw Spiderman perched on the roof of the bus stop. “Did you break that picture of me?”

“A well deserved breaking, I think.” You smiled tightly. Sliding your meter to a higher pitch, you softened your expression to mimic a plea. “Please Spiderman, I need help. My hand is bleeding and it- it hurts.” You feigned fear, sniffling to add effect.

Spiderman jumped off and landed softly in front of you. He cautiously held his hand out for you to take so he could examine the injury. Once he was close enough, you reached out to grab him by the forearm. You twisted his arm outward, driving your knee up into his ribs. When he doubled over, you slammed an elbow against his spine to lay him out.

Peter groaned slightly, rolling onto his back. All he wanted was to go to your apartment building and see what you were up to. He just wanted to check on his girlfriend, but no. Nothing was ever simple for Spiderman. He didn’t even know if Heretic had a goal when she started fights with him. He was starting to think she just wanted to annoy him.

“Y’know, Heretic.” Spiderman mumbled from the ground, causing you to freeze. “It’s not nice to trick people.”

With an eye roll, you reset your vocal meter and turned to face the spandex suited boy. “You think I care what you have to say?” You laughed. “I couldn’t care less what you think about me, Spiderman. Did you ever stop to think that people like me pop up because of people like you?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Spiderman asked, carefully pushing himself up to a crouching position. You stood fully, gesturing to yourself as you spoke again.

“Everything I can do is because of tech I developed.” You explained. “My mask has a neurotransmitter that’s linked to my knives that are coated in different chemical compounds that trigger different bodily responses. My vocal range is due to a soundwave manipulator that can change my pitch. My shoes are completely sound-proof. Nothing about what I do is natural.”

“But what does that have to do with me?”

“Villains arise to challenge heros.” You clarified. “If this wasn’t a world of superheros, I wouldn’t be doing this. I’d be a different person.”

“What if you could still be a different person?” Spiderman offered, standing to be eye level with you.

You scoffed slightly, crossing your arms. “How? Pulling a Tony Stark and suddenly deciding I’m going to be the good guy? Suddenly realizing that what I do hurts people so I need to make amends? Oh, but I won’t make amends to the people I’ve hurt. No, I’ll hide behind a suit and be a vigilante. That’ll be my redemption, right?”

Peter stood there in shock, dumbfounded for a moment. He was starting to connect the dots, but he was hoping he was wrong. He was praying that he was wrong. Peter was starting to wonder if Y/N and Heretic were the same person. He realized how many things were lining up. Every night he fought Heretic, Y/N came to school with an injury. Every night that he talked to Heretic, she brought up superheros and how she hated the thought. But something about the Tony Stark speech, the deep rooted pain that was conveyed in her words, it was painfully familiar. But Peter knew better than to speak on it.

In a split second decision, Peter bailed.

“Gotta go!” He said quickly before swinging away.

You watched Spiderman leave in surprise. Spiderman never ran from fights between you two. It was seemingly out of character for him, but you shrugged it off. You didn’t care enough to follow him nor did you care enough to really think about it. You simply headed home, trying to figure out how you’d explain your busted knuckles to your mom and Peter.

What you didn’t see was where Spiderman went. Peter decided to test his theory, to do a little investigating of his own. He swung to the building across from yours. He could see the fire escape outside your window. He always knew which one was yours because you kept Christmas lights shaped like snowflakes around the bars. You had explained your reasoning for keeping them up to him one night, saying you kept them up so you would have cute lighting for night pictures and so you would have light when you two sat on the fire escape at night.

Peter waited for what felt like forever. He had almost given up his suspicions when he saw Heretic climbing the ladders. He was pleading for her to keep climbing, to keep going past your window and he could put the whole idea to bed.

His heart dropped when he saw you enter your window.

“She’s Heretic…” He said sadly, defeated almost. “I can’t tell her now… Maybe I can’t tell her at all.” He reasoned with himself as he headed home. “She hates Spiderman. She’ll hate me. What she finds out and breaks up with me? Oh my god.”

The next day was Saturday. You woke up to a throbbing pain in your hand. Looking over, you saw your knuckles swollen and red, covered in dried blood. Sighing in annoyance mixed with regret, you dipped a nearby shirt in a glass of water on your nightstand. You gently scrubbed some of the dried blood, wincing when you pressed too hard.

“Honey!” Your mom called from down the hall.

“Yeah, Ma?” You yelled in response, quickly dropping the shirt before her head popped in.

“Get ready.” She said simply. “Tony is coming today.”

“He’s actually coming?”

“Yes!” She said happily. “God, I haven’t seen him in years.” She sighed dreamily.

“Can Peter come over too?” You asked, leaning to the other end of your bed where your phone was charging.

“You want Peter to know?”

“He already knows.” You shrugged in defeat. “He pried it out of me at lunch yesterday.”

“If you’d be more comfortable, sure.” She smiled softly. “Now at least shower and put on real clothes.”

“Alright, alright.” You laughed, pushing yourself out of bed.

“What happened to your hand?”

“I was on the fire escape last night and one of the-” You tried to explain.

“Stop.” Your mom cut you off. “I don’t want you to keep lying to me, Y/N. Are you doing this to yourself?”

“What?” You asked in shock. “No! No, Mom. I’m not doing this to myself. I’ve just been distracted lately with this whole Tony thing that I haven’t been paying attention that much. The truth is I spilled some chemicals on my hand yesterday in Chemistry and I was embarrassed about it so I didn’t say anything…”

“Oh, honey.” She sighed, coming into your room to sit next to you on your bed. “I know this is a lot to process, but I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“I’m only doing this cause you asked me to. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know. Thank you, by the way.”

“Thank me when it’s over.” You smiled slightly.

While you got ready, you messaged Peter that you wanted him to come over. He told you he had to do some paperwork for his Stark internship first and then he’d come over. Instead, Peter had called Mr. Stark who was stopping at Peter’s apartment before he made his way to your home.

“What do you need, Kid?” Tony asked Peter. “I have somewhere else to be today.”

“Yeah, Y/N’s place.” Peter filled in, keeping his eyes on his busy fingers.

“She told you?”

“Yeah…” Peter nodded carefully. “But there’s something else I need your advice on.”

“Spit it out then.” Tony said, waving his hand to coax Peter. “Her mom is gonna kill me if I’m late.”

“Well, you know how I’ve been fighting this new villain…”

“Heretic, yeah. What about her?”

“I know who she is… And the problem is that I know her.” Peter explained. He didn’t want to say Y/N’s name when he was talking to Mr. Stark because he didn’t know how Mr. Stark would react. After all, he still loved Y/N. That much didn’t change.

Peter was only bringing it up because he was scared. He knew from the start that telling Y/N he was Spiderman was going to be hard since she didn’t like heroes to begin with. But now that he knew she was Heretic, knew that she was doing what she was doing because of him, it scared him. He was scared of how his relationship with her would change. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. She meant so much to him, more than he could ever put into words, but now there was an even bigger elephant in the room.

“What do you mean, you know her?” Tony asked carefully.

“I go to school with her. I have classes with her. I hang out with her!” Peter’s voice began rising, panic lifting the octaves in his voice. “Me and her get along! But she hates superheroes. A- and she doesn’t know that I’m Spiderman. But if I told her now, what if she stops talking to me? She’s already thrown me off a building so if she knows, I don’t know what it’s gonna do to-”

“Back up.” Tony interjected. “She threw you off a building?”

“Yeah, but I was fine.” Peter shrugged it off. “The point is, Mr. Stark, I don’t know what to do.”

Tony paused, thinking about what he wanted to say next. He could tell that Peter was upset and scared. Tony was wondering how important could this girl be to him, especially if he’s already dating Y/N. Tony shrugged it off as being a childhood friend, but he still chose his next words carefully.

“You got two options.” Tony said, holding out both hands. He lifted his right slightly higher. “First option, call her out on it. It’d probably expose you since she interacts mostly with Spiderman.” He leveled his right and lifted his left. “Second option, you tell her who you are and see if she exposes herself. Either way, you have to tell her who you are.”

“What if she hates me for it?” Peter asked softly.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a lot of faith in her.” Tony questioned.

“I do!” Peter corrected quickly. “But… I can’t lose her, Mr. Stark.”

“Who is she to you anyway?” Tony pressed. “You break up with Y/N or something?”

“No, no, we’re still together. She’s just someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“You’re not cheating on my daughter, are you, Parker?”

“It’s so weird hearing you call her your daughter.” Peter laughed nervously. “But I’m not cheating on her. I would never.”

With a satisfied nod, Tony motioned for Peter to follow him. Together they went to your place. You sat in the living room with your mom. You had covered up the lingering black eye and bruises along your knuckles. You couldn’t do anything about the cuts so those were left in the open. You were dressed decently, a simple white t-shirt with a blue flannel and jeans. Your mom was a bit more dressed up, and while normally you’d tease her, you knew why she was doing that. So you let it be.

Peter entered first, knocking three quick taps before letting himself in. He placed himself next to you, saying he finished his internship stuff sooner than he thought so he headed over. You leaned against him, his arm wrapping around you. A few minutes later, someone else knocked on the door. Your mom jumped up, hurrying to open the door.

“I’m gonna throw up.” You muttered, rolling your eyes.

“You’ll be fine.” Peter chuckled, placing a kiss on your forehead. “If it goes well, want to go get ice cream after?”

“What if you spend the night instead?” You countered, turning to look at him with a gentle pout. “Please, Pete. We can make sundaes and binge Star Wars.”

“Don’t give me that look.” He groaned, pushing your face away with a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

“Love you.” You said in triumph.

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too.”

“Y/N, I’d like you to meet your father.” Your mom said as she came back into the living room with Tony Stark following behind her.

Suddenly, you were at a loss for words.You never thought the man would actually show, but there he was in your living room. He was dressed nice, as expected. A sharp suit with slightly tinted glasses. He smiled softly, and it seemed to be real. All of the snarky comments you had planned to use were suddenly forgotten. You were just a lonely kid again, wondering why her dad was gone.

“Hmm.” You managed through closed lips, nodding in acknowledgment. You saw the look your mother flashed you, one reminding you that you had promised to try. Peter nudged you slightly, urging you to say something more. “Glad I got to actually meet you before I turned eighteen. Here I was thinking you forgot I existed.”

You had intended for it to come out sharp, to inflict damage to his ego if nothing else. But hearing your own voice, it felt strange. Your words had no edge, no venom. Only pain. Loneliness. But your resentment wouldn’t show in your voice, no matter how badly you wanted it to.

“Peter and your mom have told me a lot about you.” Tony opened with, sitting on the loveseat with your mom. “Did you get the letter I sent?”

“The Stark Industries letter?” You laughed. “Yeah, trashed it.”

“What letter?” Peter asked carefully. “Y/N…”

“It was a joke.” You said flatly, not looking at Peter.

“I offered her a summer job.” Tony explained. “With the opportunity for something more permanent if she wanted it after summer.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me?” Peter asked you.

“Can we talk about this later?” You urged quietly.

Peter nodded slightly, muttering a response before losing himself in his own thoughts. He knew you’d rant to him about how the conversation went anyways, so he wasn’t missing anything by zoning out. He was more concerned with how to explain that he knew you were Heretic. He didn’t want to lose you because he was Spiderman, but he couldn’t keep fighting you.

“You never called.” You said to Tony, trying to maintain the level in your voice. “You sent a birthday card and that was it…”

“I thought it’d be best if-”

“If you pretended I didn’t exist.” You cut in. “I get it.”

“It’s not like that, kid.” Tony sighed.

“Then what is it like? You ran the most successful weapons corporation in the country but stopped production because you saw the pain you were causing. So you changed Stark Industries to something that was better. You created your Iron Man suit to be a vigilante that protected the nation. Until your old coworker got ideas. Then it was the son of one of Grandpa’s old friends, one that helped create your Arc Reactor. Oh, and then the Mandarin, right? Fast forward a bit and now you’re running the Avengers. You can do all of this to try to make the world a better place but you can’t be a family man?” You pressed. Once you started speaking your mind, the words wouldn’t stop. The words flowed like water from a broken faucet, unable to be stopped. “How you gonna fix this? You can’t even fix yourself!”

“Y/N, honey, let’s calm down a bit.” Your mom tried to settle you.

Your hands were now trembling, your eyes were burning with tears that wanted to be released. You wanted to cry out of sadness, out of anger. You were finally getting the chance to take the weight off your chest, to stop blaming yourself for why Tony was never in your life. You were able to get the answers you wanted since you were a child. But something about that chance was scarier than when you took up your alter ego.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” You shook your head. “But I can’t. It’s not fair for him to put the world as a priority when he can’t even put his family in the top ten. You still love him even though you know he doesn’t care about us. He cares about you, if that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Tony tried calmly. “You want me to ask to move in with me at the Tower? Cause you’re both more than welcome to. Your boy Peter is there all the time for internship stuff. You can still go to Midtown.”

“You think trying to be in my life now is going to fix what you did?” You laughed as you shook your head. “Tony, I don’t want your money! I don’t want you to suddenly pretend like you want to be a father to me. What I want is the truth.”

“You want the truth?” Tony pressed.

“Yes.”

“Because it’s what your mom wanted!” Tony answered quickly. “When she left, she asked for me to keep my lifestyle away from you guys… She just wanted you to have a normal childhood, Y/N.”

“What?” You asked carefully, turning your attention to your mom. “You asked him to stay out of my life?”

“I didn’t want you to be in danger.” She said softly, sadly almost. “I know I made a mistake, but I’m trying to fix it. Why do you think I reached out after all these years?”

“Don’t try to make it sound like you did this for me, Mom.” You stood suddenly. “I’m not responsible for your self-made obstacles.”

With that final line, you went to your room and shut the door. You couldn’t control your tears anymore, covering your face with your hands to muffle your sobs. Your heart felt heavy, shattered deep in your chest. The pain felt like you couldn’t breathe. You grew up hating your father, superheroes, and everything they stood for. You created an alter ego to let out that hatred, to focus all of your pain on one source. On Spiderman. But now, now it all felt misplaced.

A light tap at your door sounded before it opened. You were on your floor, arms crossed over your bed under your head. Your chest was rising and falling heavily, your breaths shallow and broken. The bed dipped with the weight of a body and a different hand landed on your back.

Peaking up, you saw Tony sitting on the edge of your bed. Glancing to the side, you saw Peter on the floor next to you. You sat up with a sigh, wiping your face with your blanket. You laughed nervously, casually using your foot to kick your duffle full of Heretic gear deeper under your bed.

“I guess I owe you an apology, Tony.” You said, your voice raspy and sad. “I guess I just needed someone to blame...”

“You didn’t know.” Tony reassured you. “You were right to be angry, Y/N. I should’ve done more, even if your mom asked me not to. See, I was always worried that I was going to end up like my old man so I used that as an excuse to stay away. But! I was wrong. My offer still stands for you to come stay at the Tower.”

“I can’t leave my mom.” You shook your head. “She’s all I’ve ever had… Other than Peter.”

“Y/N, I- I kinda have to tell you something.” Peter said carefully.

“This is the girl!?” Tony cut in suddenly. “Now might not be the best time.” Tony said with a quick shake of his head.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, since people are being honest, I um- I have a secret… A pretty big secret.” Peter continued.

“Peter.” Tony said. “Don’t do it.”

“Wait, Dad. Hold on.” You waved Tony off, focusing on Peter. “What kind of secret?”

“Aw, you called him Dad.” Peter smiled before focusing back on his reveal. “Okay, so you know my internship? Well, it’s not qui-”

“Quite an internship anymore.” Tony cut in, throwing his hands to the side in a grand reveal. “Congrats, kid. You’re officially part of the team.”

“Wait, what?” Peter questioned. “No, that’s not-”

“That’s really great, Peter.” You hugged him tightly. “Although, I wish you didn’t make it sound so bad. I thought you were going to say you had a secret life or something.”

“Yeah… Sorry.” Peter chuckled nervously. “Guess I could’ve worded it better, huh?”

“I’m happy for you, baby.” You smiled as you pulled away, kissing his cheek quickly. You stood, turning your attention to Tony. “As for you, we can’t change the past… And I get that you were just doing what my mom asked, but there’s a lot of built up resentment towards you and superheroes.”

“Well, you have a superhero family whenever you want it.” Tony offered you his hand to shake. “Go on. Shake my hand.”

“Why?”

“Shake it first.”

“No, tell me first. I’m not going to agree to something without knowing the facts.”

“Fair enough.” Tony nodded. “We agree to spend time with each other once a week, alternating in who picks the activities. You’re my daughter, Y/N. And contrary to what you may think of me, I do want you in my life.”

“I can agree to that.” You smiled slightly, shaking his hand.

“And we tell each other something new everytime we meet up.” Tony added. “I’ll go first. I know you use the credit card I gave you for knife-throwing lessons, martial arts, throwing knives, and a lot of biochemicals. Now you go.”

“What?”

You were dumbstruck. You hadn’t even thought about the fact that all of your purchases were on the bill that was sent to Tony. You felt like an idiot, not even thinking about whether or not Tony would read the bill. Let alone that he would call you out on it in front of Peter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You tried.

“Yes, you do.” Peter sighed. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about… We know that you’re Heretic.”

“How do you know about Heretic?” You turned on Peter, eyes squinting in suspicion.

“The black eye. The busted and bruised knuckles. The fact that you come to school more and more tired every day. Y/N, I know something is up. The other night I saw Heretic climbing through your window and-”

“Your apartment is five blocks away, Peter.” You cut in. “There’s no way you could’ve seen anything from your apartment. Were you spying on me?”

“No, I-”

“Did you have someone else spy on me?”

“No, I just-”

“Then how did you see anything?”

“Because he’s Spiderman.” Tony said plainly. “Sorry, Peter, but you weren’t getting anywhere.”

“You’re…” You spoke carefully, processing the sentence. “You both need to leave. Now.”

“Y/N, baby, please don’t do this.” Peter tried.

“Leave!”

In silence, both of the boys walked out of your room and out of your apartment. You locked your door, ignoring your mother’s knocks and conversation attempts. You laid in bed until the next morning, simply staring at the ceiling. Your mind was racing, looping back to the conversation in your bedroom. You wanted to scream, to cry, to curse the universe. But all you could do was stare numbly at your popcorned ceiling. You felt empty, like you had truly lost everything. You had nothing. You were nothing, a hollow shell of who you had been mere hours ago.

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not-so-mundane-after-all · 3 years

Note

You are my favorite Dick&Rachel author, and I absolutely love love love every single one of your fics with them. Do you think you could do something with “feeling for each other in the dark”? They get trapped somewhere together, Dick’s first thought is of her, like the worried protective dad that he is. They comfort each other after reuniting. Bonus points if Dick is injured.

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Reach For My Hand, Let My Voice Guide You Through The Darkness

Pairings/Relationships: Dick Grayson & Rachel Roth

Summary: The space around him was pitch black. He couldn't see a thing, not even the outline of his fingers when he carefully lifted his hand in front of his face. It was time to figure out how he got here.

But that's the thing - he didn't remember much, the only thing his memory could reach was the feeling of the ground shaking beneath his feet and his own voice, hoarse and croaky, shouting at Rachel to run.

Oh God.

What happened to Rachel?

Touching | 28. feeling for each other in the dark, Dick & Rachel - for @supersilversleuth

✨ Thank you so much @supersilversleuth !!! It means the world to me! I still can't believe I can be someone's favorite writer, mind blown! I hope you enjoy this story! ✨

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Water.

It was the first thing his mind registered. Drops of water were falling on his face, sliding down his forehead and the sides of his cheeks, one after the other. And the water was freezing cold. Every time it made contact with his skin felt like sharp needles being stuck in his flesh. Dick flinched, turning his head away from it, but then another drop hit his neck and that somehow felt a lot worse.

The second thing was the smell.

Heavy and suffocating, it bit into his lungs as if to leave a residue. It brought to mind the musty, damp earth, a place fresh air hadn't reached in ages. His first deep breath almost made the contents of his stomach travel back up his throat.

The third thing, the one that fully awakened his sluggish and clouded mind was pain.

A sharp, burning sensation gnawing at his left side. Dick could feel that whatever it was, it was no small wound, it stretched from his ribs down to the edge of his hip. He tried to move, noting that he was lying on something hard and cold, but his body screamed and he immediately stilled, breathing deeply through his nose, no matter how hard it was to keep that bile caused by the stench down in his throat.

After what felt like eternity the pain faded a little.

His mind still felt a bit fuzzy and it took a lot of effort for Dick to force his eyelids to open and lift his heavy head. Not that it helped him, not in the slightest, because the space around him was pitch black. He couldn't see a thing, not even the outline of his fingers when he carefully lifted his hand in front of his face.

"Fuck." he groaned into the abyss, letting his head fall back and hit the hard concrete with a thud. Because now he could recognize it as concrete - wet, cold and covered with moss. His hushed voice surprisingly carried out in what seemed like a vast, empty space, coming back to him as an echo.

Struck by this discovery Dick moved carefully, mindful of his apparent injury, and stretched his arms to the sides, trying to feel the space around him. The skin around his wound pulled, shooting another jolt of intense pain through his body, but that didn't stop him and he managed to straighten his left arm in full, yet found nothing but more concrete, moss and water. His other hand however found a surface perpendicular to the one he's been lying on, also wet and ice cold but grooved with an even net of lines.

A brick wall.

He needed to somehow move up that wall and get to his feet. Gritting his teeth Dick propped himself up. Little pebbles dug into the heels of his gloved hands and the injury stung like it's been burned with heated iron, but he pushed through the pain and dragged himself slowly under the wall. He dug his fingers into it, pulled himself up with a loud groan until finally, finally his back hit the cold bricks, pushing the air out of his lungs.

Now that he was at least sitting up, it was time to understand the situation he found himself in. First up - his injury.

He brought his hand to his side but pulled it back immediately, a loud curse slipping from his mouth. The skin in that place was really sensitive, definitely burned and upon further inspection he also found out that his suit around it had been destroyed, fabric melted into the flesh. That's why it hurt so fucking bad. But he didn't remember any fire. Acid then? He couldn't be sure, though the smell he noticed earlier had that kind of flavor to it.

Being stuck in the dark was a major disadvantage so he had to rely on his other senses. That's why he had the kids train blindfolded - just like he told them, in battle anything could be taken from you, your hands, your feet or, like right now, your eyes.

Now it was time to figure out how he got here.

Oh God.

What happened to Rachel?

A bubble of panic started growing inside his chest. She was right there with him! He could still feel the steel grip of her fingers around his.

"Rachel?!" he called out, his rough voice echoing in the dark space. "Are you here?!"

No one answered him.

Deep breaths helped to ease the throbbing in his side and when it became bearable enough to talk Dick lifted his hand and activated his earpiece.

"Raven, you hear me?" he gasped out but heard back only static. "Starfire, do you copy? Beast Boy? Hawk? Anyone?"

Nothing. The comms were dead. He huffed, frustrated but fought the urge to throw the useless device away. Instead he leaned back, resting his head against the wall. And instantly flinched when the contact caused a hellish throbbing in his skull. Dick quickly touched the spot and felt a swollen bump on the back of his head. Great - he must have hit his head pretty bad. Add that to the list of problems he needed to take care of later.

Sweat was dripping down his brow, damp hair sticking to his forehead and yet his body was shivering from the cold. Probably because of his wounds but it was also freezing in here. He needed to do something, to move. Rachel was out there somewhere, he had to get to her, fast.

Using his arms to steady himself against the wall Dick pushed himself off the ground with a roar tearing out from his mouth. Leaning on the cold bricks he brought his hand to the side and this time felt something stick to his gloves. Blood, he realized when he lifted it up to his nose. The flesh must have teared open when he moved.

"It's fine." he mumbled to himself. His breathing didn't sound good even to his own ears. "Just a little blood."

He can take care of it later, first he has to find Rachel and get the hell out of here.

The wall worked as his guide in the dark as he slowly started walking ahead. His movements were sluggish, legs a little wobbly, but step by step he moved forward. Bricks under his fingers, the lack of fresh air and darkness surrounding him meant he must have ended up underground, in a basement or a tunnel judging from the echo. There was no way to tell what was going on above him and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember what the hell happened.

Most importantly, he needed to know if Rachel was okay. She's been by his side the moment it all went down and now Dick could only pray she got out unharmed. But his mind was already reeling, the darkness around him feeding into the worst case scenarios playing on loop in his head. Something separated them and he ended up in a clearing but what if she wasn't this lucky? What if she's stuck somewhere under the rubble, calling out to him, to others, to anyone that could help her? That is, if she's even conscious. An image of her small body crushed under a pile of rocks and concrete surfaced to the forefront of his mind, a puddle of blood growing larger underneath her, a sharp piece of metal piercing her ribs, her eyes staring aimlessly at him but not seeing…

Stop it, Dick ordered himself, pressing his forehead to the wall for a moment. His heart was hammering in his chest, his fingers curled into fists on the wall. She's not dead. She can't be dead, he would know, right? He's not sure how but he would have felt it. He would.

Knowing this didn't change the fact that he was absolutely terrified. The risk of something going wrong, of losing a team member is a constant in this kind of life, an inherent element of this job, Dick had known that for years. But even when Donna was lying in front of him bleeding out on the floor, even when he watched Dawn being pushed off a building, he never felt like this. It was a completely different experience whenever it came to Rachel - never has the cold, paralyzing terror wrapped around his insides so tight, almost immobilizing him in a steel grip. His throat became dry, that lump even harder to swallow down now. His breath quickened suddenly, suffocating him and Dick had to stop again. This was definitely the beginning of a panic attack and that couldn't happen right now. He needed to get himself together so he could find her. Because he will find her even if it's the last thing he does.

So he squeezed his eyes shut, leaned on the brick wall and focused on the things around him.

Cold, damp bricks.

Wet concrete under his boots.

The smell of acid in the air.

Drops of water hitting the floor in a slow, constant rhythm.

And the burning pain in his side.

It was getting worse, he knew it. Blood was still oozing from the wound, he could feel it pouring down and soaking through the pant leg of his suit. But he couldn't care about it now, Rachel was all that mattered. He wasn't going to lose her just because he was too weak to move. He kept pushing through, put one foot in front of the other even though his legs were unsteady. His body grew heavier by the second but his mind was driven by only one thought: find her.

***

Darkness never really scared Rachel. Not when she carried around the real horrors within her soul in the light of day. The lack of light always felt somehow comforting, it kept her hidden from the world and from herself.

This time however she was afraid.

Everything that happened after the ground started shaking was playing on loop in her head like a broken record. She saw everything in agonizing slow motion and couldn't do anything to look away, there was nothing she could hang her eyes on in the dark. So she watched, over and over again, how the cracks started spreading across the field like a spider's web, how everyone, even the goons in creepy masks stopped whatever they were doing when the first explosion sent a load of dirt and rocks in the air. She felt the ground tremble under her feet the same moment when Dick grabbed her hand, his fingers tightening around hers so hard she felt her knuckles grinding, and pulled her with him, trying to escape. He shouted to Conner to find the rest of the team and they both dashed forward as fast as they could.

Then something hit his side, sending him to his knees - the memory of that moment caused a lump forming in her throat, tears stung her eyes. She helped him to his feet, trying not to stare in horror at the foul, corrosive liquid melting through his impenetrable suit and burning his skin. Dick howled in pain, but only leaned his weight on her and pushed onward, determined to get them both out of there. He could be so stubborn sometimes, she hated it. She tried to convince him to stop for a moment so she could heal him, but Dick just gritted his teeth and groaned that there was no time for that. He was bleeding and he could barely walk, but she could see in his eyes hidden behind the mask that he would not rest until he got her out of that place, no matter what happened to him.

This time Rachel could no longer suppress it and leaned her back against the cool brick wall as a violent sob shook through her body. Her cries echoed through the dark tunnel. She couldn't help but think it was somehow her fault, that she could have done more to stop it. That maybe if she wasn't as stubborn as him for once, if she didn't force him to stop and argue with him, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

She could only watch as another explosion opened a wide gash in the ground just below their feet. She remembered Dick's gaze when the cracks cut through the surface between their feet, full of fear, though not for himself but for her. Their eyes met for a split second before the ground opened its mouth and the darkness within swallowed him whole. He knew what was going to happen. He only managed to push her away from him before it did, shouting her name, begging her to run.

And she hated that she did.

She almost reached the edge of the field when another explosion hit right under her feet. Donna was already running to her but she didn't make it in time and Rachel fell in the rain of dirt and debris. She woke up in the dark, having no idea where she was or how much time had passed. At least she didn't hear or felt any more explosions.

Something wet and warm were trickling down from the side of her forehead, she could smell the iron of blood in the air and when she tried to move her right arm screamed in protest. She couldn't see the surface, no one answered her when she called for help and the comms were dead. So she struggled up to her feet and, clutching the injured arm to her chest, Rachel started walking down what appeared to be a tunnel.

She was forced to take a few turns and maneuver between fallen debris, which wasn't easy in the dark. At some point she thought she might have heard the hum of water but she couldn't be sure. Finding an exit from this place was her second most important task.

But first she needed to find Dick.

He couldn't be far, right? But those tunnels turned and twisted like a maze and Rachel lost count of how many times she already rounded a corner. What if she was pointlessly going in circles? What if she passed by him and missed him? And he was lying there somewhere, bleeding out, maybe even crushed by the stones that had fallen down with him. What if he was already-

No, she couldn't think like that. She had to force those dark thoughts out of her head, otherwise she'd go mad. Dick is alive, maybe bruised and bleeding, but he's alive, Rachel was sure of it.

"DICK!!!" she shouted into the darkness, her voice carried forward by the echo. "DICK, CAN YOU HEAR ME?!"

She was greeted by deafening silence when her voice faded out. Tears were burning behind her eyes, her lower lip quivered but she gulped down a sob forming in her throat. She couldn't cry, she couldn't be scared. Sometimes there was no time to be scared.

"Rachel?"

She froze. She could swear she just heard her own name. The sound was faint, like a whisper carried by the wind from far away. She strained her ears, trying to catch something else, but as the seconds passed, the darkness grew gravely quiet.

Rachel almost started to believe her mind was playing tricks on her when she heard it again.

"Rach, are you there?"

It was him. There was no doubt, she knew that deep, soft voice like no other. Relief flooded her heart like a tidal wave and she started running, not giving a damn about the intense pain in her arm.

***

Time lost all meaning to him, he had no idea if he'd been walking like this for minutes or hours. No door appeared in the wall, he didn't reach any corner either, for all he knew he was going in circles.

"Rachel?" Dick tried again, but the only thing that came back to him was the echo of his own voice repeating her name. "Rach, are you there?"

Then he heard it - a sound faint at first and distant. It rang out once, distorted and shaky, but the second time he heard it, it was definitely closer.

"Dick, can you hear me?"

He would recognize that voice anywhere. She was here. Somewhere out there right in front of him. If he could only reach her.

"Rach! I'm here!" he shouted as loud as he could but that made the wound in his side scream in harmony with him and Dick stumbled, out of breath and shaking. He fell to his knees, stunned by the sensation, but there was no way he was giving up. "RACHEL!"

"Dick, where are you?!"

He tried to pull himself up again but this time his body disobeyed him. He fell back with a grunt, spots dancing in his vision. The pain was excruciating now, it drilled him to the ground and kept him there. He managed to turn and stumbled on the wall, pressing his back to it again. His breathing was growing shallow and rapid while his heart tried to desperately break out of his chest.

"Ra-Rachel…" he gasped out but his voice became barely a whisper. He was too weak.

She must have been getting closer, he could now hear the loud thud of her combat boots against the concrete and a wave of relief spread over his chest. She was okay. Thank God, she was okay.

"Dick, where are you?" she called out again and the strain in her voice made his heart clench. "Say something!"

"Over… here…"

Hopefully she heard him. He couldn't muster more than that, his head was growing heavy, he could barely keep his eyes open. He definitely lost too much blood. Her steps filled the silence again, she was getting much closer. If it wasn't so dark he would be able to see her already.

She stopped a few feet away from him, trying to catch her breath. He heard her groan and his heartbeat sped up, because that was a definite sign she was hurt. But how bad was it? He needed to know.

A soft thud - her knees hit the ground and a strangled sob escaped her lips.

"I… I can't see you…" she choked out, helpless. "Dick, I can't-"

Gathering up the rest of his strength Dick reached out in the direction of her voice.

"I'm here, Rach." He whispered softly. She gasped when she heard him. "Follow my voice. Reach… Reach for my hand."

Rachel shuffled on her knees, trying to find her way to him and the sound of her whimpering made him want to drag himself to her and gather her in his arms. Something was definitely wrong, but she was still in better shape than he was.

"You're almost there, Rach."

Finally her trembling fingers brushed over his and he instantly grabbed her hand to pull her closer. Rachel let out a surprised yelp but then he felt her next to him, her warmth and the strawberry scent of her hair. She touched his arm, then slid her hand up to his shoulder and finally to his face, resting it on his cheek. He did the same, feeling her in the dark since he couldn't see her and when his hand reached her back Dick pulled her closer, bringing her to his chest.

Her painful scream pierced the silence and she flinched, making him take his hand away.

"Rach? Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I think my arm is broken," she grunted through gritted teeth, her words sending a shiver down his spine. Breathing deeply through her nose she pushed through the pain and scooted closer to him. "But it's fine, I'll be fine."

"Rachel-"

"I'll be okay." she insisted, laying her hand flat on his chest. "You on the other hand…"

A soft, purple glow slowly illuminated from her fingers, pulsing like a beating heart. It was the first light they both saw since they got here and, using the chance they got, they lifted their eyes to take a look at each other's faces. The side of Rachel's head was covered in blood. Her round eyes were glistening in the warm glow and tear streaks marked her pale cheeks, drawing white lines in the layer of dust covering her skin. Dick probably didn't look much better but she smiled at him nonetheless, one second away from crying and as he felt his strength coming back to him thanks to her healing touch, his wounds closing and pain disappearing, Dick lifted his hand to cradle the back of her head and pulled her back to him, pressing his forehead to hers. Rachel let out another sob and closed her eyes, brushing her nose against his. He felt her trembling, she was clutching her injured arm protectively to her chest. Another wave of tears rolled down her cheeks and he brought his other hand to brush them away.

"Oh, honey…" he whispered, feeling his own tears welling up and wishing for nothing more than to be able to fully embrace her and hold her tight.

"I was so scared about you," she whispered, her voice so small and brittle his heart almost broke. "When you fell…"

"I know," he said and carefully wrapped his arm around her, letting her lean on him. She tucked her head under his chin and took a shaky breath, her hand on his chest still glowing softly in the dark. Dick curled his fingers around hers as he dropped a tender kiss on her forehead. "I was scared about you too." That couldn't even begin to describe how terrified he really was. "But we're together now. And we're getting out of here, okay? I promise."

"You're not healed yet." she mumbled as she cuddled closer to him, the purple light from her hand intensifying. Dick chuckled quietly and started slowly brushing his fingers through her tangled head to help her calm down a bit. She was still pretty shaken.

"Y'know, it kinda sucks that you can't heal yourself."

Her melodic laugh will always be the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

"Yeah, tell me about it."

Neither of them said anything else for the next few minutes, comfortable in the silence now that they found each other. Dick felt all the energy coming back to him, the wound on his side almost disappeared right now. When he brushed his fingers over the spot, all he felt was smooth skin and a little bit of tingling. He smiled into her hair.

"I think it's done."

The purple light faded into nothing and darkness enveloped them again, but neither of them wanted to move. The relief he felt was almost overwhelming, having her back in his arms, alive and breathing, he considered a miracle. Rachel must have felt similar about him because she only buried her face under his chin and let out a long, deep sigh.

He rubbed her back comfortingly.

"You good?"

She nodded against his neck. "Yeah, just tired."

"How about we get out of here?"

"Good idea."

Dick got up to his feet then grabbed her hand and pulled her up as well. He couldn't see her anymore but heard her quiet whimpering crystal clear. She must be in a lot of pain but was trying to keep it down.

He kept his hand on her shoulder. "How's your arm?"

"Hurts like hell but I'll survive." he heard her reply.

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay." he breathed out and took her hand. His fingers laced through hers and she squeezed it tightly in return, then shuffled closer to him. "We're gonna just walk ahead, the team should track us down eventually. Don't let go of my hand. We can't lose each other again."

She bumped his shoulder, making him smile.

"Nope, not gonna happen."

Dick was about to reply when suddenly he flinched at the crackling sound in his ear.

"Night- ing, are you- there?"

He instantly reached to activate his comm.

"Kory? You hear me?"

"Loud and clear," came the response and Dick felt all the tension leave his body at once. "We managed to finally track your position. You okay? I saw you get hit with an acid bullet."

"It wasn't good but Rachel healed me."

"She's with you? I can't reach her through the comms."

"Yeah, she's with me."

He could clearly hear Kory breathe out a deep relieved sigh.

"Good. She alright?"

"Her arm might be broken but she's determined she's gonna survive. Stubborn as hell about it, too."

He didn't need to see to know Rachel was snickering now.

"Okay," Kory responded. "Stay where you are, we can't lose the signal or we lose you. We're gonna dig you a way out."

Dick repeated her words to Rachel.

"Oh, thank God." she murmured quietly and leaned her head on his shoulder. He could feel her exhaustion, not just from using her powers to heal him but also from the pain. He dropped another kiss on the top of her head. Taking care of that arm is gonna be the first thing he does when they finally get out of here.

"Please, hurry." he said to the commling. Kory replied instantly.

"Copy that. Sit tight."

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cutelittlestar · 4 years

Text

Maniac: Chapter 4 || Peter Parker x Detective!Reader

Summary: As you and Peter investigate an abandoned warehouse, you come to find something shocking and terrifying, paralyzing you with fear.

Note: Hello lovelies! I am so sorry this took FOREVER to post - I’ve been extremely busy with college and never had the time to write - but here it is :) Also, I know the image above is of Taskmaster, but this is how I pictured the villain to look like!

Warning(s): topics of death and murder, prostitution, violence, stalking, blood, angst, cursing. MATURE CONTENT, 18+

Word Count: 6.1k

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

You sat in front of your desk, rubbing your eyes as you tried your best to remain awake. Your eyes scanned over the various sheets of paper scattered around your desk, and you let out a sigh of frustration. There was no resourceful information discovered on Elizabeth’s devices.

Despite the setback, you thought it would be a good idea to search the streets. Since Elizabeth was committing the same activities as the previous victims, you went to the same location Glimmer and Amanda were usually at. You knew that it was a big stretch, but you hoped that the other workers would tell you what they knew. However, once you arrived, none of the workers were willing to talk to you. You could see in their eyes how much they wanted to speak, but just as they were about to open their mouths, they remained silent. They knew of something but decided it was better to not involve themselves. You were disappointed, but you couldn’t blame them; they were terrified of becoming the next victim.

It’s almost been a week since Elizabeth was murdered, and you have yet to find any new information about the killer. You started to become convinced that the killer was never going to be caught.

No, you think to yourself. I can’t think like this, not when so many people are counting on me.

You stand up and walk away. Maybe you weren’t looking hard enough. Maybe you missed a crucial detail in the files, so you decided to check once more, hoping you would discover something new. You head towards the evidence room and scavenge through various boxes. As you grab the files and walk out of the room, you begin to read. Your eyes scanned over the paper, but everything that was written down was information you already knew. Just as you’re about to close the file, your fingers stop moving as you come across a photo.

You sharply inhale as you stare at the photo of Glimmer, her bright smile causing immense pain to course throughout your body. Your fingers lightly trace her face, and you began to remember the memories you shared with her. A soft smile makes its way onto your face, but then it quickly disappears as you notice another photo attached to the file.

The autopsy photo of Glimmer.

“I’m sorry,” you softly whisper, hoping no one heard your voice.

It felt as if you stood in the middle of the room for an eternity, but you’re immediately pulled out of your thoughts as you hear a loud cough come from behind. You rapidly close the file, holding them to your side before turning around to greet the citizen. Instead, you’re met with Peter, who awkwardly stands a few feet away from you.

“Oh. Peter,” you say, surprised to see him. “Is everything alright?”

You expect him to respond, but he doesn’t. Then, you notice how his lips form a firm, straight line like he’s distraught on what to say. You furrow your eyebrows, worried about Peter’s silence, but before you could say anything else, your eyes land on the clock behind Peter. Your shift ended two hours ago.

“Shit,” you said, thinking that Peter was upset you didn’t come home when you were supposed to. “Peter,” you began to explain, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I was just-”

“It’s alright, Y/N,” Peter confesses, offering you a genuine smile. You close your mouth, a bit puzzled that he was so calm, but then you nod your head, happy that he wasn’t angry. However, Peter’s smile is immediately gone and is now replaced with a serious expression.

“Can we talk? In private?” Peter whispers, stepping closer to you. Peter’s hand delicately rests on your forearm, and he softly squeezes it.

You stare at where his hand lays, ignoring how your heart accelerated, but then you looked into his eyes, nodding your head. “Sure.”

You placed the files on your desk, giving Michael a short response when he asked where you were going. As you head towards Peter, you didn’t realize how Michael eyed you until you were out of his sight. He was a bit jealous - jealous because when Peter arrived, you immediately dropped everything.

Peter directed you towards the supply closest, to which you were a bit confused about, but you decided to not question it. Instead, you grab the doorknob and open the door, flicking on the light switch. You watch Peter linger behind, making sure no one was watching nor following before he entered and locked the door.

“Pete, you’re kinda freaking me out.” You stare at his cold expression, wondering what was on his mind. If he had to come all the way to your work, it had to be something important.

“I’ve been searching every possible location with high levels of vibranium,” Peter finally manages to reveal, gaining your fully devoted attention. “But there were no traces of anyone recently there.”

Peter watches your face contort to disappointment, but no words come out of your mouth.

“There’s only one more place left that I need to check out, and I wanted to come to you and let you know of my plan before I go tonight,” Peter adds.

There’s a short moment of silence, and you place your arms across your chest. Peter waits for your response, but you merely take in a big, deep breath before releasing it.

“Okay,” you say a few seconds later, nodding your head. “But I’m coming with you.”

“What?” Peter said, not liking what you suggested. “There’s no way you’re coming with me. It’s too dangerous.”

A scowl appears on your face and you felt your blood boil as you listened to Peter’s words. Of course you knew that it was dangerous, but you’re a fucking detective. You knew of the risks, but that wasn’t going to deter you away from danger.

“Peter,” you loudly exasperate. Peter could see your anger, it was apparent, and just as you’re about to scold him, you bite your tongue. You needed to go. After everything that the person has done to you, you felt it was only right if you came along. It was your case.

“I’ve been chasing this prick for weeks,” you reveal to Peter, your voice as smooth as silk. “I need to come. I need to catch him. Please, Peter,” you beg, hoping that he would understand your request.

Peter stayed quiet, a bit conflicted about what to do. But, after a while, Peter let out a sigh, nodding his head. “Alright, but we need to leave now.”

“I’ll go grab my jacket.”

- - - - - - - - -

The abandoned warehouse was tightly nestled between other desolated buildings. The stillness of the area was ominous, causing you to become a bit worried, but you brushed your fear aside and raised your head high- ready to investigate the area.

“The frequency of the vibranium is a lot stronger than the other places I’ve been to,” Peter confesses, standing right beside you. Both of you stared at the tall, wrecked, and stretched-out warehouse but neither of you move; if you wanted to cover the whole building, you would have to split up, so you needed to come up with a plan. Before you could suggest your idea, Peter interrupts you.

“Stay here,” Peter declared. You whip your head to face him, giving him a disbelief expression.

“What? There’s no way I’m staying put. I’m coming with you,” you argued, once again, becoming bothered that Peter wasn’t giving you the chance to speak for yourself. You weren’t some damsel in distress, you were perfectly capable of investigating with him.

“I thought we were supposed to be partners, Peter. I’m not you’re fucking sidekick,” you spat. Your patience was running thin, and Peter’s comment was making you more aggravated by the second.

“Damnit Y/N!” Peter yelled, causing you to take one step back. Peter’s breathing was more noticeable than before, and you knew that he was angry with you, but you didn’t give up. You continued to stare him down, despite being unable to look into his eyes. It looked as if Peter wanted to argue, but he remained quiet. Instead, Peter steps back.

“You don’t get it,” Peter whispered, thinking you were unable to hear him, but you heard him perfectly clear.

Within a mere second, your fury returned. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m a cop, Peter. I risk my life just as many times as you do.” Peter rubs his hands over his face, feeling his body turn hot from irritation.

Suddenly, Peter drops his hands and furiously walks over to you until he’s only a few centimeters away from your face. You expect Peter to continue yelling, but instead, Peter reaches down, tightly grasping your hand. You take a sharp inhale.

“What if something horrible happens and I’m not there to protect you?” Peter weakly states, his voice slightly cracking as he begins to imagine the worst. “What if -god forbid- you die? I can’t have that on my conscious, Y/N. I can’t lose you, not like-”

Peter bites his lip, unable to continue speaking; he hangs his head low as if he’s ashamed of mentioning his name. The frustration you once felt was completely gone as you watched Peter stand still. Although Peter’s face was covered by his mask, you recognized that he was trying his hardest to hold back the tears. You knew who he was speaking of, but you were also scared to mention his name out loud.

At that moment, you understood Peter’s behavior. He wasn’t holding you back because he doesn’t think you’re strong enough.

He was holding you back because he’s afraid he’s going to lose you.

You never thought that anyone cared about you, but as you continued to stare at Peter, you learned that you were wrong. A heavy load sits on your chest, making it hard for you to properly breathe.

Peter cares.

By instinct, you reach your hands out until they rested on Peter’s cheeks; you hoped he had the strength to look into your eyes, but he continued to stare at the ground. He was petrified, and so were you, but you needed to remain strong.

“I know you’re scared, but I can take care of myself,” you remarked, gingerly rubbing his face with your thumbs. “You have nothing to worry about, Pete, but you have to trust me.”

Peter slightly moves his body from side to side, and you feel your hands turn clammy as you were met with silence.

“Do you?” you asked.

You stared into his suit goggles, hoping he would say something, but Peter simply nods his head before stepping back. A sharp pain settles itself in your chest as your hands fall to your sides, but you swallow your emotions and put on a poker face, hoping he didn’t detect your slight change of behavior.

Peter digs his hand into his pocket. “C-can you just wear this? Please?” Peter said, extending his arm out and grabbing your hand, placing something in your palm.

“It’s an earpiece, so we can communicate. Press the center if you’re in danger; I’ll be there as fast as I can.” Peter remarked. You twirled the device laying on your hand before placing it in your ear. Soon after that, you and Peter began to form ideas until you were both satisfied with the plan.

“Be safe,” you tell Peter as you now stand in the middle of the main floor. You barely entered the abandoned warehouse, but you were already entirely swallowed by the darkness.

Peter strides forward, ready to part ways, and just as you’re about to think that Peter isn’t going to say anything else, he stops walking. There’s a long pause, but then he speaks.

“You too.” He was gone in an instant.

The sounds of the wind brought you back to reality, and you now diverted your attention back to your environment. You tightly clutched your gun as you stared into the darkness before walking down the hallway.

The wallpaper was utterly decaying, moss was beginning to grow from the cracks of the cement, and the items left behind were being covered by nature. The flashlight you held in your other hand provided some assistance, but as you walked down the hallway, you felt your stomach twist. You turned the corner, softly stepping, hoping you remained undetected, but as you look further down the path, nothing appears to look out of place. The hallway stretched itself for so long, it felt as if you were going down an endless path. You continued to tightly grip your gun, still uncertain if the area was completely abandoned.

“Everything alright?” Peter’s voice echoed through the coms. You’re a bit startled by his unexpected voice, but you quickly recover, responding to his question.

“All good. You?”

Despite Peter’s attempts on being discreet, you could hear Peter’s footsteps through the ear device. “Everything is clear. Looks like no one’s been here in a long time,” Peter said.

“I doubt that,” you responded. “In fact, it feels as if something is pulling me towards the gloom.”

You wait for Peter to reply, but then you’re swallowed by the silence once again. There’s a burning sensation brewing in the center of your chest, yearning to hear Peter’s voice again, but you don’t even hear the faintness of noise.

“Peter?” you anxiously whispered. “Hello, can you hear me?” Suddenly your ears perked up in delight as you hear a noise, but then it’s immediately covered by static.

You let out a cry as a loud siren powerfully burns your ear. You take off the earpiece and whimper in pain; there’s a long ringing echoing itself into your head, and it won’t go away. You glance down, staring at the earpiece on the floor, and bend down to pick it up. Peter guaranteed it was new tech, so why did it malfunction so quickly? Your mind formulated reasonable explanations as to why it didn’t work, but it seemed very unlikely given the fact that Peter ran various tests beforehand.

Unless...

Was there something interfering with the signal?

As you stand pondering, you immediately hear a noise come from a distance. You whip your head towards the direction of the sound, quickly disregarding the earpiece you were so focused on seconds ago. The noise sounded as if something had fallen, so you hastily head down the path, determined to know where the sound was coming from. You raised your flashlight, scanning your radius until your eyes landed on something that seemed strange.

A pile of boxes hidden by worn-out and moldy sheets caught your attention, and you began to examine the cardboard. The damage done to the cardboard was horrible, but it stood out from the rest of the boxes. It didn’t look old enough to be there. You moved the boxes out of the way, hoping to find a piece of evidence, but then you begin to see an outline of a basement door. You stopped moving, staring at the now visible entrance, uncertain on what to do. Your first instinct was to inform Peter, but since the earpiece was no longer working, you were on your own. Without a second thought, you reached the handle and opened the door.

Once you reached the lower level, you lifted your hand out in front of you. With the flashlight, you were able to see how narrow and uneven the hallway was; there were more boxes scattered down the hallway, but you managed to push them out of your path with ease. As you began to walk further down, your flashlight began to flicker, causing you to stop moving.

“Shit, shit,” you whispered to yourself as the light eventually gave out. You tapped the flashlight, hoping it was just a slight malfunction, but that couldn’t be it. You put new batteries not too long ago. As you stood in the darkness, your breathing began to grow heavier; you didn’t feel like you were alone. Then, something catches your attention as you stare off into the void.

A faint light at the end of the hallway.

It was warm and soft, projecting the same amount of light a candle would, and if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you could make out a door at the end of the hallway. You slowly placed the flashlight on the floor, now using both of your hands to hold your gun.

Once you arrived at the end of the hallway, you leaned against the wall, taking a sharp inhale before raising your foot and kicking the door down. The hinges of the door immediately came off, and within a second, you entered the tiny room, scanning the premise. Noticing that no one was no one there waiting for you, you lowered your gun. Rather, there was a candle on a table which was situated in the middle of the room. You came closer to the table, noticing an envelope was there, waiting for you to open it.

You felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach as you realized the handwriting looked familiar.

To Detective Y/L/N

The killer was here.

Your eyes flickered back to the light, watching the wax slowly drip onto the candle holder. Your blood began to boil as it dawned on you that you were so close to catching them, but now they’re gone. Ignoring the shivers running down your body, you moved closer, grabbing the envelope and tearing it open. You pulled a paper out, tightly clutching it as you read the words over and over again until your hands began to shake.

So close yet so far away. Better luck next time, Detective.

You slammed the paper and envelope on the desk, your chest rapidly heaving as you took a step back. The wrath you were feeling was more powerful than you’ve ever undergone before—but instead of kicking the table, crumpling up the paper, or storming out of the room—you began to sob. An uncontrollable wail took over your body, making it harder for you to breathe. Every emotion you suppressed since the death of Amanda began to crawl its way out of you, and you didn’t know how to stop it. Your legs felt like jello, and the tears streaming down your face made it harder for you to see.

You failed them.

Amanda.

Glimmer.

Elizabeth.

All of them dead, all because of you.

You roughly wiped the tears away, biting your lip in hopes that your sobs would crumble, but it was hopeless; there was nothing you could do. Numbness was what you felt after—a feeling too familiar—but despite your desire to be with Peter again, your feet remained planted on the ground. Your red-sunken eyes landed on the letter once again, but before you could reach down to grab the paper, you felt an unsettling presence stand behind you.

Within an instance, you grabbed your gun from the side grip and spun around. As your finger was about to pull the trigger, the dark figure grabs your wrist, twisting it in the process, causing you to lose your grip. You panted in distress, and within a mere second, the figure ripped the gun away, leaving you vulnerable. You step back in fear, your eyes glued to the figure as it walks out of the darkness.

“If you make a sound, I’ll fucking kill you.” The figure morbidly muttered, powerfully standing over your shriveled body. Your breathing became jagged, but you try your hardest to remain quiet, fearfully complying. Your body shook from terror, and you break eye-contact with the assailant, feeling that if you stared any longer, he would violently react.

Man, roughly around six feet tall, slender yet well-built, voice dark and raspy, race and age still unknown. Has a black skull mask, where the prominent features of the face are outlined with stainless, grey metal. Wearing a black cowl and a well-armored suit. You constantly repeated this to yourself, hoping you would remember every detail of their appearance, but a part of you felt like you weren’t going to make it out alive.

Peter, where are you? you said to yourself. Your mind twisted horrific scenarios, and your eyes started to water as you imagined the worst.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings, Y/N,” the dark voice spoke again, twirling the gun in his hand. The calmness of his voice brought instant rage, and you narrowed your eyes.

“What the hell do you want?” you angrily asked, gripping the frame of the table with such intensity.

He swiftly took a bullet out of the chamber and tossed it to the floor. Then, he detached the magazine body from the gun and crumbled the body in his hand as if he was crumpling up a piece of paper. He has superstrength abilities, just like Peter.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” he replied. “As usual.” The killer stepped closer until he stood inches away from you, but you remained frozen.

“What you should be asking is if that little boyfriend of yours is still alive.” Your breathing came to a sudden halt as you processed his words.

“What did you do to him?!” you yelled, tears gushing down your face. Your fear and anger got the best of you, but you didn’t care if your voice disobeyed his threat. Peter can’t be dead, he can’t...

He didn’t move an inch as he continued to stare. “Still breathing, but if he lives or not, that’s on you.” You bit your lip to muffle your cries, but they easily slipped out; there was nothing you could do. You were useless. Defenseless. Weak.

The immensely cold silence brought anguish and sorrow, and no matter how much you wanted to hurt him, you needed to stay alive. “Why did you kill those women?” you softly questioned.

“For you, of course,” he deadpanned.

Your hands began to tremble. “Wh-”

The killer slightly leaned backward, as if he was surprised you didn’t understand what he was saying. He shook his head from side to side, clearly disappointed that you were so far behind. “Oh, Y/N. You still have so much to learn.”

“If you’re doing this for me, then stop!” you snapped. “Stop killing innocent people, they had nothing to do with this!”

“But Y/N, they have everything to do this with.” He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, slowly rubbing circles on your jacket. Your skin turned cold as he continued to massage your shoulder, and you felt sick to your stomach. You heard him take a deep breath before speaking, “I won’t stop, not until you learn the truth, but don’t worry, I have something in store for you.”

His grip loosened, and you watched as he created a significant amount of distance between you and him; you quickly looked at the door, but you knew it would be impossible to try and escape. Something in store for me? you pondered to yourself, but then everything immediately clicked.

You shift your direction back to the masked assailant, shaking of rage. “I swear, if you kill another person, I’ll-”

“Your threats are meaningless to me, Y/N.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

As you’re about to respond, a piercing scream echoes throughout the abandoned warehouse. You whip your heads towards the door, immediate relief washing over you.

“Y/N!” Peter frantically yelled. “Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?! PLEASE! ANSWER ME!”

“If you want to save him and Luna, then I suggest you leave.” His voice was faint and dark, and if your senses hadn’t been dialed to eleven, you would’ve missed what he said. You glance at the door once more before looking at the killer, unable to register his words. Luna? You didn’t move an inch, uncertain if you could believe his words. There was no way he would let you go, just like that.

“Go,” the killer hummed, “run as fast as you can.” Without a second hesitation, you bolt towards the door, using all the strength you could muster to sprint to Peter. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you began to assume you were safe, but then the killer’s words flooded your mind. Save them from what? Various ideas immediately came to mind, and your fear of not finding Peter in time began to grow stronger. You needed to find him before it was too late.

“Y/N!” you overheard Peter’s voice echo throughout the warehouse. You stopped in your tracks, hoping you could pinpoint his location, and when you heard another shriek, you immediately ran towards the sound of his voice. I’m coming, Peter. Please be okay, please be okay...

Peter’s eyes began to cloud with tears as the silence grew stronger. His heart started to frantically pound, and if he didn’t find you soon, he was certain his heart was going to stop. He knew it was a horrible idea to split up, and he should’ve fought harder—but you were so stubborn you didn’t want to listen—God, if you would’ve just listened to him, none of this would’ve happened. As he continued to scream your name, Peter was unable to focus due to a constant noise echoing around him; the beeping grew stronger and stronger, causing Peter to become more anxious and fearful.

“Peter!” you shouted, but you regretted screaming, notwithstanding how much your throat burned.

Peter’s feet stopped moving and turned his head towards your angelic voice, immediate relief engulfing him as he sees your face. Without hesitation, Peter picks up his feet until he’s sprinting down the hallway. You roughly collide with one another, but you ignore the pain as you tightly hold onto him; Peter takes a deep breath in, inhaling your scent, already feeling safer. You briefly close your eyes, glad that he was alright, but the moment had to over. You pull away from the hug, and Peter instantly noticed something was wrong; your clothes were disheveled, and the fright settled in your eyes caused Peter to panic.

“We have to go,” was all you could muster out.

“Are you alright? What happened?” Peter worriedly inquired, but you shook your head, ignoring his questions.

“He’s here, Peter. We have to go now.” His spider senses hit him like a truck the moment you finished your sentence, and Peter stared into your eyes once again before nodding his head. Suddenly, the beeping noise gets louder and faster, and Peter’s eyes widened, knowing what was about to come. He grabbed you by the arms, pulling you into his chest before ducking to the ground.

A loud explosion erupts throughout the east side of the building, causing the whole floor to shake. You scream in shock and horror, but you feel Peter’s grip get tighter. Before Peter could run, another explosion erupted fifteen feet away; you open your mouth to scream again, but no words are able to come out as the entire ceiling collapses on you and Peter.

Within a blink of an eye, everything went dark and silent.

- - - - - - - - -

When Peter opened his eyes, it felt like he slept for eternity; his head achingly throbbed but when he tried to shake the pain away, he came to realize that he couldn’t move freely. With every slight movement, his body contorted and Peter let out distressed groans and grunts, trying his hardest to remain calm. Peter began to loudly cough, and he was having a difficult time properly breathing. Slowly, he began to raise his arm, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain coursing throughout his body. Luckily, he was able to take off his mask, but the debris was still dense. For a short moment, Peter’s memory was a bit foggy, but then everything came surging back. He remembered the reason why he was surrounded by rubble and darkness.

The explosion.

Y/N....

Peter’s eyes widened once he thought of your name. Oh god, Peter thought to himself, what have I done? Just as Peter was about to start losing his mind—wondering where you could’ve been—he felt something move underneath him.

His eyes dart down, his breath making contact with your skin. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” he softly called out, hoping you would respond. Moments of silence pass by, but before the panic can settle in, he hears a tiny groan depart your lips. Peter slowly moved his hand upwards until he touched your cheek. The air was becoming more crowded, and Peter was taking shorter breaths.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of here,” Peter promised, leaning his forehead against yours for a brief second before forcing himself to sit up as much as he can.

While Peter was being crushed by the heavy concrete, there was still enough space for him to move. Sweat, blood, and dirt trickled down his forehead, and Peter took a deep breath before raising his arms up. The pain was intolerable but he continued to persist; he had to make sure you were okay, that was his first priority. His hands landed on the concrete—and before taking another deep breath—Peter mustered up all of his strength and pushed as hard as he could. As the distance between you and the concrete started to get further, Peter was able to rise up to his knees before quickly standing up and pushing the rubble off of his body; the concrete fell a few feet away from where Peter stood. He was no longer surrounded by the darkness; rather, he felt the slight coolness of the moonlight settle upon his skin, causing chills to run down his spine. Peter felt comfort in knowing that he successfully managed to pull the rubble off him, but as he shifted his attention to you, he noticed you weren’t moving.

Peter’s legs shook with such intensity that he dropped to the floor; his knees made a rough impact with the ground, but he ignored the burning sensation—instead, his eyes were settled on your lifeless body.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice cracked, “wake up. We’re okay.” Peter leaned forward, his shaky hands reaching out for you. He gingerly held your head with one hand and wrapped his other around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. Peter was unable to register how your skin was colder than his or how you remained unresponsive to his voice—he didn’t want to belive. No, this couldn’t be happening.

He pushed your hair away from your face, and as he delicately rested his hand on the side of your head, he felt something drench his suit. Peter slowly pulled his hand back and stared at his trembling hand. It took him a while to notice the crimson liquid running down his fingers.

“No, no,” Peter whispered, “please wake up.” Peter’s world began to shatter as his worst fear unraveled into a real nightmare.

Tears began to slide down his face, and Peter cried out, pleading for anybody to hear him. It was futile; he was all alone. Peter couldn’t stop himself from shaking. “You’re going to be fine,” Peter said out loud, wiping his tears with his shoulder. Peter didn’t know if he was lying to you or himself. A sob rippled through his body, and an excruciating scream broke out of him.

“Don’t go...” Peter wailed, tightly clutching your body, “don’t leave me.”

Peter began to hyperventilate; his body uncontrollably heaved and his eyes remained shut, unable to accept reality, but Peter was so lost in his mind that he failed to see how your eyes slowly opened.

The sound of cries was the first thing you heard; it was faint, at first, but as you continued to concentrate on the noise, it grew louder and louder, causing you to open your eyes. The thought of even moving your body brought such immense pain, so you decided to remain still; however, you quickly forgot about your own injuries once your eyes landed on Peter. His face was filled with bloody cuts, dark bruises, and moist dirt; a smile appeared on your face—knowing fully well that he was safe, but then your smile disappeared as you realized tears were pouring down his face. Your hands found it way to his face, but Peter continued to cry; he thought his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Peter,” you weakly murmured, causing Peter to stop breathing.

At first, Peter was unable to believe he heard your voice, but once he opened his eyes and looked down, Peter let out a cry of relief as he stared into your beautiful eyes. They were so soft, and he loved how they melted in the moonlight. Peter brought you closer to his body, carefully resting his forehead on yours, fearing that if he let you go, you would be gone again. You instantly melted into his touch, feeling immediate warmth. You didn’t care that he was bloody, dirty, or sweaty; you didn’t mind at all.

Peter slowly moved his head back, and you stared into his sweet, chocolate eyes.

“I thought you were gone.” Peter softly whispered, his voice uneven.

“I would never leave you,” you heartedly confessed as you rubbed his beaten cheek with your thumb. “I’m right here.”

“Y/N,” Peter breathed out. You smiled once you heard your name roll off his tongue, and your heart fluttered. You never thought your name could sound so beautiful, but you were wrong. Before you could register what was happening, you felt Peter delicately place his lips on yours. Your breathing came to a sudden stop, but as Peter cradled your face with his smooth hands, you breathed once again. This was real, you said to yourself; you never would’ve imagined this was how your first kiss would’ve gone. Nevertheless, it was just as wonderful. Your hands worked their way around his face, and you felt every line along with his beautiful physique. It felt right, and you didn’t want this moment to end. A strange feeling began to brew in the pit of your stomach, but then you remembered what this feeling was.

Love.

You love Peter so much—so much that you would do anything to save his life.

Meanwhile, Peter felt his body shake from excitement; he was afraid—afraid you were going to pull away, but once he felt your hands travel down his chest and tug at his suit, he was no longer terrified. Peter pulled apart and took shallow, shaky breaths, still unable to process that you returned the kiss. You deeply stared into each other’s eyes—eyes filled with hope and love; neither of you said a word, but there was no need to. He knew, and you knew, and it was enough for you. Peter could feel the beating of your heart against his chest, and it brought so much happiness.

Before Peter could press his lips on yours once again, he paused. The sounds of sirens came closer, and a frown settled on his face, knowing he couldn’t kiss you anymore.

“You need to leave.” Peter turns his head to look at you, furrowing his eyebrows. You gave him a reassuring smile, knowing it was best if he left before the cops arrived, but Peter shook his head in protest; he wasn’t fond of leaving you alone—not after what just happened.

“No, I’m not leaving,” Peter sternly stated.

Your heart fluttered once again; you didn’t like the idea either, you wanted him to stay, but he had a responsibility. No one can know he’s Spider-Man. Without hesitation, you lift your hand up and touch his bruised skin, hoping he would understand. His heartbeat slowed down as your skin touched his, and he instinctively nestled his face into your palm.

“I’ll be fine, Peter. You need to keep your identity a secret.”

Peter let out a sigh, knowing you were right. “Okay.” Peter reluctantly agreed.

Peter gently helped you stand up, and as he led you down the path of rubble, he noticed the blue and red lights were coming closer. After a few minutes, they would be here. Once he made sure you were in a safe location, he knew he had to go, yet his body didn’t move. You stared at Peter, wondering what was on his mind, but before you could ask, Peter grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer. He rested his forehead on yours, and for a few seconds, he closed his eyes, sulking that the moment was coming to an end.

You closed your eyes as well, a genuine smile resting on your face. “I’ll see you soon, don’t worry,” you reassured him. Peter slowly opened his eyes, blissfully staring at your face before leaning down and softly kissing your forehead. Your body went rigid with surprise, but then you ultimately relaxed.

“See you soon, Angel,” Peter said; you slowly opened your eyes and gazed into his once more before he drew away and left without a trace.

- - - - - - - - -

yay :)

Taglist: @whatthefuckimbisexual @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @caitsymichelle13 @averyfosterthoughts @lukesbabylon @spideylovin @juliebean247 @fangirling12566

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houndin-around · 4 years

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Author notes: So I got bored and wanted to write about Rex! Hope you guys like it! Just some angst and fluff because Rex deserves all the love🥺

Summary: Being a medic was tough work, but once your missions were over you couldn’t help but appreciate being on coruscant more every time. Though after a completed mission, you and the 501st went out to celebrate a victory at 79s. One thing led to another and a certain captain ended up placing a kiss on your lips.

Rex x medic!reader

“Kriff!” you mutter under your breath harshly.

Just as you were about to turn down the hallway of the base, Captain Rex, Commander Cody, Fives, Waxer, and few shinies were heading toward you. It’s been a little over a week since you’ve actually spoke to Captain Rex as the last outing you had with the 501st, ended with a kiss. It’s not that you didn’t like it, no that was definitely not it, it was the fact that it was displayed in front of everyone. Men you’ve healed and cared for, especially some that follow orders to no end. You weren’t ready to even express how you felt, still unsure how it would all work out.

It scared you, NO it down right paralyzed you knowing the possible outcomes. Especially if anyone dare to speak up about it, something could very well happen to the man you cherish so much. Although, with a night out at 79s, half the crew was shit-faced, barely able to make coherent sentences, yet you didn’t want to risk it. Rex worked to hard for everything to be taken away from him.

Unfortunately for you, being lost in thought meant you had run out of time. The boisterous group, colliding with you as you stood so lost, afraid to even look up as you knew what was coming. Feeling his eyes scorching right through you made you sick to your stomach, if looks could kill, you’d definitely be disintegrated. It was quite unlike Rex to flash such dirty looks but alas, this tension between the two of you was not common either, so much so the other boys took glances at one another.

“Uh right. Well I’m headed to the mess. I forgot Waxer an I told Boil we’d meet ‘em there.” Cody spoke quickly, hoping to escape from this weird tension in the air, but definitely played it off cooly a per usual.

“We did?” A swift elbow, landed into Waxer’s chest, making him grunt. “OH! Right, yes, he’s probably sitting there waiting…” Waxer grinned before turning to Cody.

Swiftly the two turned toward the direction of the mess, encouraging the shinies to follow as well. You couldn’t help but giggle slightly at Waxer’s comment, though it disappeared as quick as it came when your eyes met with Rex’s. A lot more than anger rested within his gorgeous honey eyes, you caused the hurt, confusion and everything else in between.

“I’m actually quite hungry myself..I’m going to join the others in the mess. You coming Rex?” Fives asked cautiously, uncertain of what was happening. Even though Fives was present for the events, he mentally wasn’t as he consumed a large amount of alcohol.

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a minute Fives. Just need to have a few words with our medic here regarding the upcoming mission.” Rex’s voice came out aggressive, hinting for Fives to leave.

Swallowing thickly, you eye the arc trooper as if begging not to leave, unfortunately a “yes sir” left his mouth and he quickly high tailed it out of there. Without any realization, your right arm crosses your body, gripping your left wrist tightly. You didn’t dare to look up at Rex now since everyone else had left, but it wasn’t helping the situation whatsoever. Eyeing the ground was safe, at least for the few seconds while you think of something to say.

“Ya know (Y/N). It’s funny. All week I’ve been trying to catch up with you. Stopped by the medbay where you always are, and it just so happened that Kix said you weren’t around. Odd really, considering you never leave the medbay even if there’s no men in there.” Rex’s arms cross his body, a frown emerging on his face. His words stung though, you asked Kix yourself to not let anyone visit you but it seems like Rex already knew this.

“I-I-..uh had a lot going on after the last mission…it really took a toll on me. With so many men..injured, and a couple loses..I don’t know…” your words were all over the place along with quick glances at Rex, only to shift your gaze around the empty hallway you were in.

Lips pressing together, Rex really wasn’t in the mood to play these mind games. You could tell by how rigid his stance is that he was growing more impatient by the second. Knowing Rex so well, he had quite a lot of patience, for maker’s sake he put up with Hardcase and Fives, and yet the unknown between you and him got under his skin.

“You an I both know that isn’t the full truth. Ever since..” Trailing off, Rex slowly unfolds his arms, hand reaching for yours. “Ever since 79s..it’s like you’re avoiding me. If you don’t…feel anything..just tell me. I can take it.” Sucking a breath in, his eyes studying your face for any indication of your feelings for him. “I just need you to tell me.”

Flinching, his words snap you back into the moment, the one that needs to be dealt with. Quickly you shift your eyes to ensure no one is around before accepting his hand. With enough courage, your eyes meet his only to see the pain in them. This was never your intention, for you would do absolutely anything for this man. Your feelings for him began so long ago and here you are given the chance to act on them.

“Rex…” your heart was thumping so hard you swore the whole base could hear it. “It’s not that..it’s just..” The Captain quickly raises his hand, stopping you mid sentence, clearly changing his mind about hearing the truth.

“I get it.” In an instant he pulled his hand away from your grasp, turning away from you. “I’m sorry (Y/N)..” He muttered, straightening his stance more even if your words dug into him like a vibroblade.

“Rex please. I don’t want you to regret what you did..”

“How am I suppose to feel (Y/N)?” His tone dry, a slight burst of laughter coming from him to smother the rage fueling inside him. “You don’t even want to be around me anymore? Barely even look at me when I speak to you! Do you think it’s easy for me to just pretend everything is okay when I know for a fact it’s not?”

Your eyes soon start to water, you never thought about how this could be affecting your captain. Lips parting, but no words come out, the only thing you can do is reach out and place your hand on his shoulder. Stopping in his tracks, Rex turns to face you this time avoiding eye contact. It pained you that this chaos was caused purely from your anxieties. As hard as it is you shove them aside long enough to get your message through to him. Heat rising from your stomach into your chest, you felt yourself getting closer to him. The smell of him was hypnotic, causing your heart to skip a beat. This was the moment you waited for, the true moment for you both to show how you feel for one another. You feel Rex’s lips crash into yours, hungry and fierce but the taste of him was something you’d never forget. This kiss was produced from raw emotion, not some wild night with booze and other clones staring, it was private and perfect.

Pulling away briefly, eyes hooded, a smile washing over your face. “I hope that sort of explains my feelings..” words a whisper before giving your captain a chaste kiss. “We’ll talk more about this later, okay?”

Breaking away, your cheeks hot and visibly red you flash Rex one last smile before walking off toward the medbay. Rex watches you with his chin lifted and a grin planted across his handsome face. Even if he didn’t get all the answers yet, he was going to and that satisfied him for now.

#clone wars #clone wars fanfic #star wars #star wars clone wars #captain rex #ct 7567 #clone captain rex

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feirnwehr · 4 years

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𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐈: sentence memes.

( feel free to change whatever you want. )

❛ We will learn from each other. ❜ ❛ We will start something new. ❜ ❛ There is so much to tell you. ❜ ❛ What a privilege to love you ❜ ❛ You are grace, you are light. ❜ ❛ Show me who I am and who I could be ❜ ❛ And I will try, try, try to breathe ❜ ❛ Is this what being vulnerable feels like? ❜ ❛ I'm only steady on my knees one day I'll stand on my own two feet ❜ ❛ I'll run the risk of being intimate with brokenness ❜ ❛ Show me how to struggle gracefully ❜ ❛Let the scaffolding inside of me be strong enough to hold this tired body up ❜ ❛ I was given a gift of hope ❜ ❛ I want to see your happily ever after ❜ ❛ This is your moment, don’t look down. ❜

❛ Fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much? ❜ ❛ All I want is to flip a switch before something breaks that cannot be fixed. ❜ ❛ When will I feel this as vivid as it truly is ❜ ❛ Rain or shine, I don’t feel a thing, just some information upon my skin. ❜ ❛ I miss the subtle aches when the weather changed ❜ ❛ God I want to feel again ❜ ❛ It's bittersweet, it's poetry. ❜ ❛ I’m well aware of the shadows in my heart. ❜ ❛ To breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. ❜ ❛ We’re raising our glass, ’til we’re fixed from the inside. ❜ ❛ Let's make a map of what matters most ❜ ❛ Like remembering the ashes before we burn ❜ ❛ So hold my breath for as long as I can ❜ ❛ The light goes out, my heart goes still ❜ ❛ And just like that, I believe in ghosts ❜ ❛ Love is an echo... ❜ ❛ You see God in ways I wish I could ❜ ❛ I let go and in this moment, I can breathe. ❜ ❛ A fire in the deepest part of me. ❜ ❛ The countless stars we're sleeping under, it's the brightest sparks that we remember. ❜ ❛ It once was so easy; breathe in, breathe out. ❜ ❛ I feel out of focus ❜ ❛ Each brave step forward,I take three steps behind ❜ ❛ A single loose thread and it all comes undone ❜ ❛ For in our great sorrow we learn what joy means ❜ ❛ I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it. ❜ ❛ The dark clouds depart, and the damage is done ❜ ❛ With a broken heart, transformation begins ❜ ❛ Like wildfire, it starts in my chest ❜ ❛ I feel the pressure building until I can't breathe and it takes everything ❜ ❛ It all spills out reckless but honest words leave my mouth ❜ ❛ I couldn't make it right ❜ ❛ It's fight or flight buried in my mind ❜ ❛ A feather is a ton of bricks or maybe I'm too sensitive... ❜ ❛ From now on I'll try to listen to intuition ❜ ❛ There's magic in our bones ❜ ❛ I just need more time. ❜ ❛ it's easy to forget there's magic in all of this. ❜ ❛ I'm short of breath standing next to you ❜ ❛ You are beautiful like I've never seen ❜ ❛ Go ahead and laugh even if it hurts ❜ ❛ What if we could risk everything we have and just let our walls cave in ❜ ❛ Hold on for a minute, 'cause I believe that we can fix this over time ❜ ❛ I'm not saying perfect exists in this life ❜ ❛ I hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly ❜ ❛ Sweetheart, you look a little tired when did you last eat? ❜ ❛ Tell me, is something wrong? if something's wrong you can count on me ❜ ❛ You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat ❜ ❛ It's okay if you can't find the words ❜ ❛ Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders ❜ ❛ Like a force to be reckoned with, a mighty ocean or a gentle kiss, I will love you with every single thing I have ❜ ❛ Like a tidal wave I'll make a mess or calm waters if that serves you best, I will love you without any strings attached ❜ ❛ It's okay if you can't catch your breath you can take the oxygen straight out of my own chest ❜ ❛ No, I don't want to talk about myself ❜ ❛ I just want to build you up, build you up ’til you're good as new ❜ ❛ maybe one day, I will get around to fixing myself, too ❜ ❛ I don't even know where to start ❜ ❛ I just want to love you ❜ ❛ I just want to learn how somehow to be loved myself ❜ ❛ Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart ❜ ❛ with or without it, I'm good enough. ❜ ❛ For the first time, I see an image of my brokenness utterly worthy of love. ❜ ❛ It's so exhausting on this silver screen where I play the role of anyone but me. ❜ ❛ I finally see myself, unabridged and overwhelmed, a mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell, but I'm slowly learning how to break this spell. ❜ ❛ I finally see myself. ❜ ❛ Now I only want what's real, to let my heart feel what it feels. ❜ ❛ leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk; worthy of love anyway. ❜ ❛ Maybe I'm hiding behind metaphor ❜ ❛ Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure ❜ ❛ One day I'll wear it all on my sleeve the insignificant with the sacred unique ❜ ❛ But I've fallen in love with a ghost ❜ ❛ I lost my balance when I needed it most ❜ ❛ I'm stuck swimming in shadows down here it's been forever since I came up for air ❜ ❛ A reflection of magnificence hidden in you maybe even in me ❜ ❛ I want to watch the universe expand ❜ ❛ I want to break it into pieces small enough to understand ❜ ❛ It feels like an out of body experience ❜ ❛ And now I can't put my mind to rest and I can't help but second guess ❜ ❛ I was already brave enough to let go ❜ ❛ And now I want to generously lose this energy that I've been hanging onto so desperately ❜ ❛ I finally feel the universe expand it's hidden in heartbeats, exhales ❜ ❛ I had the most vivid dream my feet had left the ground i was floating to heaven but I could only look down ❜ ❛ Oh God I'm so tired of being afraid ❜ ❛ My mind was heavy running ragged with worst-case scenarios ❜ ❛ what would it feel like to put this baggage down? ❜ ❛ somewhere in the middle, I feel a little paralyzed but maybe I'm stronger than I realize ❜ ❛ I wanna believe no, I choose to believe ❜ ❛ Fear won't go away but I can keep it at bay and these invisible walls just might keep us safe ❜ ❛ And I'll learn to breathe deep and make peace with the stars ❜ ❛ And no matter what somehow we'll be okay don't be afraid ❜ ❛ How nice it'd be if we could try everything i’m serious, let's make a list and just begin ❜ ❛ "What about danger?" So what. "What about risk?" ❜ ❛ How wonderful to see a smile on your face ❜ ❛ I'm restless for whatever comes next ❜ ❛ I'm hungry for whatever comes next ❜ ❛ It feels like sinking when I'm standing in one place ❜ ❛ When everything feels heavy, I've learned to travel light ❜ ❛ But I want to be here truly be here ❜ ❛ I feel hope deep in my bones that tomorrow will be beautiful ❜ ❛ I'm ready restless and hungry ❜ ❛ I was just a kid who grew up strong enough to pick this armor up and suddenly it fit ❜ ❛ God, that was so long ago, I was little, I was weak, perfectly naive and I grew up too quick ❜ ❛ Now you won't see all that I have to lose and all I've lost in the fight to protect it ❜ ❛ I won't let you in. I swore never again- I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected ❜ ❛ I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive ❜ ❛ You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong- my healing needed more than time ❜ ❛ When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect too, now I'm a broken mirror ❜ ❛ I can't afford to let myself be blindsided ❜ ❛ I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart and all I want is to trust you ❜ ❛ Show me how to lay my sword down for long enough to let you through ❜ ❛ Here I am, pry me open what do you want to know? ❜ ❛ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut and bury my innocence but here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my achilles' heel ❜ ❛ I’m all in, palms out, I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in ❜ ❛ I'll shake the ground with all my might I will pull my whole heart up to the surface ❜ ❛ For the innocent, for the vulnerable, I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose ❜ ❛ I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, I'll give my sweat- an ocean of tears will spill for what is broken ❜ ❛ I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again invincible like I've never been ❜ ❛ Who am I to say what any of this means- I have been sleepwalking since I was fourteen ❜ ❛ Honestly, it's easier to let myself forget ❜ ❛ I've been less than half myself for more than half my life ❜ ❛ Wake up fall in love again ❜ ❛ There's so much worth fighting for you'll see ❜ ❛ It looks like empathy to understand all sides ❜ ❛ I'm just trying to find myself through someone else's eyes ❜ ❛ So show me what to do to restart this heart of mine how do I forgive myself for losing so much time? ❜ ❛ A little at a time I feel more alive ❜

#meme #rp meme #long post #sentence meme #Lyric Meme #lyric starters #lyric sentence starters

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yougottalovekyloren · 5 years

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Until Death Do Us Part (Part 5)

A/N: Ah, at last... the grand finale! I had such a fun ride creating this little series and can’t wait to come up with more little gems like it! Thank you all for reading and leaving such supportive comments! It means the world to me. I’m so glad to have so many new friends to read my stories. :) And, I know I say this incredibly often, but if you’d like to be on the taglist for future updates, please let me know. I will gladly add you to it. :))

-Megs <3

WARNINGS: Angst, Hux being a fucking creep, etc.

TAGLIST:

@angelias134

@treblebeth

-----

Kylo Ren couldn’t even remember how it had all happened.

One moment, he was staring at the end of General Hux’s gun, and the next, he was out like a light.

His eyelids slowly fluttered open, an dull throbbing pain igniting from his head. Kylo reached up and touched his head, pulling his hand away to find it speckled with scarlet drops of blood.

The rest of his body, however, remained unharmed. The traitorous red-haired weasel had only hit him over the head with the gun, nothing more. But it was too early to celebrate.

Kylo’s heart nearly stopped as his gaze fell onto the bed that his wife had just been in, seeing only empty sheets and the number of wires that had been connected to her.

Machines had been pushed over, wires tangled, and trays spewed across the normally organized floor of the room. Y/N hadn’t left here without a fight. For a moment, a surge of pride filled Kylo’s veins, but it was quickly replaced with a icy cold wave of fear at what Hux could’ve possibly done to her in the moments that Kylo had been unconscious.

Ignoring the increased throbbing of his head as he began to move, Kylo rose to his feet and walked towards the door of the med bay. Two Stormtroopers were walking down the hallway and froze when they saw their Supreme Leader standing there without his helmet, blood slowly trickling down the side of his head.

“You two.” Kylo barked, and without hesitation, they came to stand in front of him. “Sound the alarm. Start looking for General Hux, and make sure he’s still on board. He has a hostage with him.”

“Who is the hostage, Supreme Leader?”

“My wife.”

----

“Let me go.”

“You’re not in the position here to give me orders, My Lady.” Hux’s grip tightened on my arm as I struggled to move away from him within the small confines of the closet we were hiding in. “At least, not in your condition”

I whimpered slightly as I feel his hand move closer to my bandaged wound, almost in warning of what he would do if I acted in any way other than what pleased him. He had done it once, resulting in a yelp from me. I didn’t dare challenge it again. I remained silent, and could only watch through the small window as Stormtroopers marched past, oblivious to what was happening in the closet only feet from them.

After a few moments of waiting, the Stormtroopers had finally marched away, and the hallway was silent once more.

“Open the door.” his hand returned to my arm, gripping it tightly.

With shaky fingers, I forced the door open and stepped in the hallway, my gaze moving back and forth, silently praying that someone, anyone, would walk down the hallway.

“Start walking, girl.” Hux’s lips brushed against my ear, and I shifted uncomfortably at the feeling, quickly beginning to walk forward and away from him.

“You won’t get away with this. “ I muttered, as he began to practically yank me down different passages, searching for Force knows what. “Kylo will find you... and once he does-”

“If Ren ever catches our trail, it’ll be too late for him.” Hux reached a door and began to type into a keypad. “By then, we’ll-”

An alarm cut off whatever sentence was bound to follow, and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips, knowing that Ben was already searching for us. And once he found us... Hux would wish that he had never been born.

I turned and gave the red-haired man a snarky smile.

“You were saying?”

The sharp, painful force of a slap caused my head to whip to the side, a small curse leaving my lips at the pain.

“I suggest you learn to silence your tongue... if you are to ever be my Empress.” He snarled before the door opened and he yanked me through forcefully.

I nearly recoiled at his words, nothing but negative thoughts running through my mind at his words. “I will never be your Empress. And you will never be the Supreme Leader. “

I watched, in slight amusement, as his face began to change shades, from a pasty white to a burnt pink and finally to a furious purple. He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of Stormtroopers running down the hall caused his mouth to fall closed.

We continued our way down the halls, and my heart dropped as I realized we were approaching the Escape Pods. He had finally found his escape route.

As we entered the room, Hux shut and locked it securely, keeping whoever was rapidly approaching from entering.

Hux furiously began to type into the keypad to one of the pods, his handless arm wrapped tightly around my waist to keep me in place, despite my struggle. My eyes lit up with hope as I heard voices speaking rapidly outside, quickly trying to figure out how to open the door.

Hux’s eyes widened with panic and quickly typed faster, his grip growing even tighter and pressing against my wound.

Eventually, the door that separated Hux and I from whoever waited outside finally opened, and we both whirled around to see three Stormtroopers enter, their guns raised with their fingers on the trigger. My heart nearly leapt from my chest as I saw the tall, dark figure of my husband enter behind them.

His head was bleeding slightly, coming from the nasty hit that Hux gave him with his gun. But the rest of him was unscathed. Kylo’s eyes were burning with anger, but deep in them, I could see the finger that lingered within.

“Ben...” my voice cracked, and his eyes softened as they met mine.

Hux pulled me against his body tightly, and I yelped as the pressure increased once more against my bandages. Kylo’s eyes darkened once more as they focused on my captor.

“Let her go, and I’ll consider giving you a quick death. “

“You are in no position to demand things of me, Ren.” A bitter laugh left the red-haired man’s lips, and a few moments later, I heard the familiar buzz of my husband’s lightsaber.

My breathing grew increasingly faster, and my eyes began to well with tears as Hux raised the lightsaber, the blade only inches from my throat. I watched as the look on Kylo’s face turned into one of uncertainty and panic, knowing that one wrong word would end your life right in front of his eyes.

“I love you.” I whispered, as the tears slowly began to fall from my eyes and my fear beginning to paralyze my body.

“So... here’s what’s going to happen.” Hux smirked, feeling a wave of pride at seeing how distraught Kylo had become. “I’m going to take this escape pod... I’m going to take your wife.... and we are going to go on a little trip together. If you try to follow us, the next time that you see her, she will be in pieces. With the work of this very fine lightsaber of yours.”

My bottom lip began to tremble as I saw Kylo try his hardest to hold back his tears, knowing that the threat that Hux was making was indeed very real. I felt myself repeat the same three words that I had spoken before, knowing that this may be the last time I ever get to speak them to his face.

“I thought that taking both of your lives would be the ending that I needed.” Hux smiled cruel at Kylo. “But it turns out, keeping your wife for myself, and making you suffer is much better than giving you both a quick-”

His words were cut off as a blaster shot went directly through his head, his body immediately slumping towards the ground, the lightsaber falling to the floor with him.

I stood, paralyzed in shock, as I watched Hux collapse, his body eventually coated in his own blood. Two hands grabbed my shoulders and my gaze moved to rest on my husbands face.

“Oh God.”

His arms gently wrapped around me, and I did the same, hugging him as if I would never see him again.

My tears began to seep into the material of his shirt, as I felt his own begin to soak my own. Eventually, I pulled away and kissed him gently on the lips, which he returned passionately.

We broke away and turned to see Captain Phasma standing at the entrance of the Escape Pod, her blaster in hand.

“How did-”

“Hux wasn’t stupid enough to use the fighter ships. I knew he’d come here first.” Her voice was clipped and she shook her head as she stared at his body. “What a monster he was.”

Kylo turned back to me, his eyebrows furrowing as he saw the blood beginning to soak through my bandages. “Did he hurt you?”

“Hit me in the side a few times... and in the face.” I winced lightly as he wrapped his arm around me, beginning to lead me towards the door. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Let’s get you to the med bay.” without another word, I felt him sweep me off my feet and into his arms.

“Ben, I’m fine. I can walk.”

“I’m not risking it.... I’m not risking anything with you again. That was far too close.” His voice was small, almost afraid to show anymore vulnerability than he had so far.

I gently cupped his face, and his gaze focused on me.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I smiled softly, and his own smile began to form on his face.

“Good. Because I’m not either.”

-----

A/N 2: Okay, the ending was kinda mehhh, but what did you guys think? :))Have a good day!

#kylo ren #kyloren #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfiction #Kylo #kylo ren x reader #kylorenxyou #kylo ren x you #bensolo #ben #ben solo imagine #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfiction #ben solo x you

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bodytoflame-ao3 · 5 years

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the world keeps turning – part 5

aka the ‘oh my god they were roommates’ fem!percy fic prompted from @percyyoulittleshit and turned into a disaster by me

subtitle: the thrilling conclusion of my week-long mental breakdown

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

AO3 Link

five // july

“Thanks, by the way. I needed this.” Annabeth says, gathering the playing cards back into a stack and dropping them into the case, which she tosses into the drawer of her bedside table.

“Anything for the birthday girl.”

“You remembered.”

“Yeah, I uh... I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to get you anything.” Birthdays were never a big affair for Annabeth, so she's not offended. She'd actually almost forgotten today was her birthday.

She vaguely gestures to the scene around them, “This is enough.” She really means it. She would take a quiet day with Percy over the chaos Camp could be any day.

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” It wasn’t like Annabeth to skip out on archery, let alone be the one to suggest it. Percy had managed to convince her to play hooky with her once or twice, but it had never been out of Annabeth’s own volition. She wasn't the type.

Annabeth weighs her options. It's irrational, she knows, but the fear of losing Percy is too much to bear; she made a promise to herself that she would never be left behind again. The other half of her wants to tell Percy how her smile makes her stomach turn and her heart beat out of her chest; how she wants to kiss her until she forgets her own name. “Do you remember when... in the Labyrinth. Mount St. Helens.” She treads carefully, not wanting to be too direct.

Percy’s internal monologue runs about a million words a minute: She can’t be talking about that, can she? “I— uh.” she stutters.

Annabeth takes another steady, deep breath. She needs to know, and that means she's about to either have the best or worst birthday ever. “Right before I left. I—”

Despite her misgivings, Percy thought about that moment a lot. More than she should, really. “You kissed me.” She lets the words hang in the air for a second, “Why did you do that?”

It’s something she’s struggled with since it happened. She initially had no clue why Annabeth did it, because she thought she was straight, so she justified it as some heat-of-the-moment instinct that she'd never really understand, but ever since she told Percy otherwise... she wondered — hoped — that maybe, she liked her too. No matter how unrealistic that was; Percy hadn’t exactly been subtle with her attraction to her. If Annabeth felt the same way, she would’ve said something by now, right? Unfortunately for Percy, Annabeth's mind worked a lot different than hers did.

“Well,” she looks down into her lap, “I didn’t know, and that’s what I’ve been thinking about. For a while.”

Percy doesn’t respond, letting the silence hang in the air for a moment before Annabeth breaks it: “Thinking about... what that meant for me.” She hates this tension. The idea of just... leaving crosses her mind briefly. She could just run out of the cabin. Act like it never happened. She pushes the thought away (1. because she's stronger than that, and 2. she doesn't ever want to leave anyone feeling like she's felt half her life), quickly blurting out, “Did you think about it? About me?”

“Annabeth I...” Is she asking what Percy thinks she's asking? She’s too stunned to answer, and she considers pinching herself to make sure it's real. She’s thought and over-thought that kiss more times than she can count. “I mean, I have thought about... us.”

“Us?” Annabeth inquires, pushing the topic (she hopes not too far). As desperate as she is to talk about this — them — with Percy, she can't bring herself to be the one to say it. If she does, then it's her fault if something goes wrong.

After a moment of contemplation, Percy seemingly changes direction: “Annabeth, I scare myself sometimes. Some of the things that I can do? They scare me. Someday I’m going to hurt someone, and I don’t want that to be you.” For Percy, the thought of this actually being real is terrifying. It was one thing to daydream and pine over Annabeth, to imagine how soft her skin would feel against hers; what kissing her would be like; how she might lace her fingers into Percy's; wondering if holding her in her arms would be like home. The real thing? It makes her sick to her stomach, because that means she has to face the reality of herself — the things that eat away at her confidence and tell her she's dangerous; the things she's starting to believe. Annabeth thinks about what Sally said to her at the end of the school year, and it’s never been as evident as it is now. Percy's state is delicate, and she can't risk upsetting her right now, so she lets her talk. “When I was up on Olympus... when they wanted to make me a god,” she starts, “I thought about it. I really did.” She feels horrible saying it out loud. “Because I wondered if everyone would be better off without me putting them in danger all the time.”

“Percy.” It’s not like Annabeth didn’t know this was how Percy felt. She could see it in her eyes at times, just how tired she was. It was different hearing it from directly from her, and it sunk deep into the pit of her stomach.

If it was possible to hear pain, Percy was sure that’s what it would sound like. She doubles back, fighting off tears, “But I couldn’t do that to—“ She breathes deeply, trying to regain composure. Without thinking, Annabeth takes her hand, tracing small circles around her knuckles with her thumb. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here.

“And at the River Styx,” Percy pivots again, “Nico said I had to focus on something that kept me tethered to the mortal world.” She tries to continue, tries to tell Annabeth that she’s the one person she can’t leave behind, but her voice is paralyzed. Percy practically prays that Annabeth saves her from this embarrassment and takes the reins of the conversation. She doesn't, mostly because she has no clue what to say; doesn't know how to process the fact that she's Percy's anchor — but also because she’s holding Percy’s hand and wow, she could just kiss her right now.

“You know, you’re not making this easy for me,” Percy forces a laugh through her now-scratchy voice.

Annabeth smiles, some of her confidence returning, though her stomach continues doing flips. She tilts her head towards Percy, “Did you think I would ever make things easy for you?” Her voice, soft and light, flows through Percy’s ears like a song she knows every single word to.

It’s then that her eyes meet Percy’s for the first time in a few minutes, their avoidance becoming clear. The smile falls from Annabeth’s face; letting go of her hand, she tentatively reaches out to sweep Percy’s hair behind her ear, lingering on her chin as she traces down her freckled face. Percy desperately wants to — despite Annabeth’s insistence she not mess with it — run her fingers through her hair and close the gap between them but she’s frozen in place with the new, intimate way her fingers are trailing along her jaw. She studies Annabeth's parted lips and curious gaze; she's looking at Percy like she would one of her architecture books: wonder, and infinite thought.

And she is — thinking, that is, but the only thing she seems to be able to think about is kissing Percy. Screw it. Her lips meet Percy’s, slowly, but only briefly, before she pulls away, not sure if it's okay. She soon realizes it is, and mentally scolds herself for not doing this sooner, when Percy kisses her again, like it’s all she’s ever wanted (it is); like she could kiss her forever and never stop (she could). Percy threads her fingers through her curls, and for once, she doesn't mind.

Her lips are soft, and salty like the sea; Annabeth almost laughs, because she feels like she should’ve expected that from the daughter of Poseidon. Percy, hesitating for only a moment, takes a hold of Annabeth’s waist and easily pulls her into her lap. For once, Annabeth isn't irked with their size difference, because they fit perfectly together. She drapes her arms over Percy’s shoulders without breaking away. Annabeth kisses her, softly, not quite sure of herself or what to do, only confident in the fact that she doesn’t want it to end anytime soon. Her mind races; because gods, she’s kissing Percy Jackson — and Percy Jackson is kissing her. With that thought, her body betrays her; and she mentally berates the smile involuntarily spreading across her face.

“What?” Percy laughs, leaning back to get a clearer picture of her. She's never been more beautiful, she thinks, than she looks right now.

Annabeth, at the sight of Percy's disheveled bangs and flushed face, feels a blush rising to her cheeks. Instead of answering her question, she takes her thumb to wipe off her tinted lip balm, now smeared on the side of Percy’s mouth. “Sorry.”

“Do I look like I’m complaining?” To be perfectly clear, she's absolutely not; if a little bit of lip gloss is the price she has to pay for kissing Annabeth, so be it.

“I don’t think so.”

“So can I kiss you again?”

Annabeth nods. Percy’s eyes, all crystalline seafoam, look into hers, and she swears she can see the entire ocean in them.

“Jackson! Chase! You two better be in here, ‘cause I did not just haul ass halfway across camp to—” Clarisse’s booming voice comes from around the corner into Cabin 6. Annabeth tries to pull herself off of Percy’s lap; she's only half-successful, bumping her head on the bunk bed and falling back into her pillow, because her legs are entwined with Percy's. Judging by the smirk now plastered on Clarisse’s face, it’s clear she managed a pretty good picture of what was going on. “About time,” she mutters, crossing her arms and turning on her heels to leave the cabin. “If you're not at dueling, I’m telling Mr. D! One hour!”

“Did that really just...” Annabeth untangles herself from Percy, and buries her head in her palms.

“That happened.”

Clarisse will never let them live this down, that much is evident, but Percy figures she better get used to it, because she knows they're going to be one of those couples. Mostly because Percy never wants to stop kissing her — and she doesn't think Annabeth has any objections to that, because she responds to the silence by practically flinging herself into her arms (and Percy feels so lucky for it).

“Why didn't you tell me?” Annabeth asks as soon as their collective laughter dies down, even though she knows the answer.

“We’ve been through so much together, and you’re one of the most important people in my life... I couldn’t mess that up.”

“Seaweed Brain, you’re never getting rid of me.” Maybe falling, Annabeth thinks, is okay, as long as she can get back up at the end.

She kisses Percy again. Because she can.

#percabeth #prompt fill #fic #~2k words #multi #*theworldkeepsturning #fem!percy jackson #fem!percy #wlw percabeth #made

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sad-af1121 · 6 years

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To Spice Things Up (One-shot)

Summary: You and Chris decide to spice things up in the bedroom but will Chris enjoy it as much as you? Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, toy usage (female receiving), light bondage, restriction, kinda rough sex, language, fluff A/N: I tried so hard not to make this just porn but oh well! Enjoy 😂 Feedback is welcomed 💜 thank you @one-big-dreamer ! *gif from google*

“You sure about this?” Chris cocked his head to the side, a smirk threatening to appear on his face as he lifted the bondage rope that rested in the palm of his hands.

You shift, so you sit on your knees, humming in answer to his question. “I’m way too excited to back out of this now.” You playfully bit your lip, suppressing a giggle when you hear Chris growl at your words.

Ever since you told him you wanted to get fucked with your favorite dildo while tied up, Chris had been going crazy for weeks, asking where this thrill of an idea came from and if you were being serious.

You definitely were.

Your sex life was anything but plain or boring, frankly, it was filled with passion and love. Curiosity and the fact that you were horny had gotten the best of you one night when the idea randomly had emerged in your head. Well, not randomly- you wanted to be a little minx and see how Chris would react about it. He was lost for words, nonchalantly saying a small “ok” however, you knew he was going berserk.

You usually didn’t share crazy sex fantasies, but the idea and constant daydreaming of ‘what could’ refused to leave you alone, causing a warm tingly feeling in your stomach and weakness between the legs at night. You knew Chris was okay with you using a toy whenever you needed a quick release but he’d prefer you used him rather than something made out of silicone.

Today was the night that your fantasy will become a reality and the two of you were filled with excitement, nervousness, and anxiety, not knowing if this will turn out for the best. Or worst.

“Lie down for me, baby,” Chris said in a husky tone, licking his lips to the sight of your black lace panties and matching bra. You obliged, slowly lowering yourself on the mattress as the blood in your veins rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin at what was to come. Chris stood in front of you, shirtless and in his grey sweatpants, giving you the perfect sight of the outline of his cock. You bit the inside of your cheek from moaning, the anticipation killing you.

“Did you watch a video on how to do this?” You breathlessly said, yanking your thoughts away from the distraction. Chris simply chuckled, continuing to wrap the ropes around your thighs and legs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps, making your nipples hard and pressing against the flimsy fabric of your bra.

Chris tore his eyes away from his work to look up at you. “Yeah, I did. Had to make sure I’m doing this right or I’d be in risk of hurting you and I don’t want that happening.”

Your eyes went soft to Chris’ efforts of making sure you were safe regardless of your fantasy and you admired that. You went to lift your hand to cup his jaw but then you remembered you were restricted. “Oops,” you laughed to yourself, shaking your head as you felt a pinch of embarrassment. Chris huffed out a laugh with you, leaning close by you to peck your lips.

“There, does that work?” He mocked, grabbing another rope and wrapping your arms with it.

“Wow,” Chris swallowed, stepping back as his eyes scanned your body. You were in a frog tie while laying on your back, your calves touching the back of your thighs and your hands and forearms tied together to restrict you from doing anything.

Inhaling deeply, you look down at yourself and the heat returned to your cheeks. But your brows furrowed, noticing you had forgotten to take off your undergarments because now they were impossible to take off unless Chris untied you. “Chris, I forgot to take off my panties…”

Chris was standing in front of the dresser with the dildo in hand as he turned around and walked back towards the bed. “Nah, I didn’t forget.” He toyed with a smirk, crawling on the bed until he faced your clothed cunt.

Your eyes widened at his demeanor, “Hold up Chr- ah fuck,” You moaned, throwing your head back whilst arching your back when you felt the pad of his middle finger rub your bundle of nerves, shooting electrifying pulses through your body. You were already sensitive from the build-up so the friction was the cherry on top, leaving you writhing and needy.

Chris groaned at the scent of your arousal, cupping his dick with his other hand to release some of the pressure, sensing his blood rushing to the head of his member. Your obscene sounds were driving him nuts already and he barely started. He could see your slick seeping through your panties, coating his fingers as he continued to rub your clit.

“Jesus babygirl. You’re already wet. I guess we won’t be needing the lube.” His toned dropped a few levels, sending a shiver down your spine as you rolled your hips, craving for more.

“K-keep doing that,” you incited, your mouth dropping open, the pleasure building and progressing. Desperate to play with your breasts, you tugged at the restraints but it didn’t budge, leaving you defeated and whimpering to get loose.

Chris chuckled darkly at your pathetic attempts, “Isn’t this what you wanted, huh? Of course it is, look how wet you are Y/N.” He grinned, licking his lips as he pulled your panties to the side, growling to the sight of your drenched cunt. Chris clenched his jaw, the hunger to eat your pussy surfaced and it only made matters worse. You happened to look down and gasped, noting how dark Chris’ eyes looked, not a tinge of green or blue but black. They were as dark as a room with no light, sinister and free of his gentle side.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, in fear that you were going to be paralyzed with sincere pleasure.

You cautiously watched as he took the purple dildo in hand and spread the lips of your cunt, slowly pushing in the tip. He wanted you to feel every second of the stretch, observing your jaw going slack and a moan following after. You tried pushing your hips closer to get more but Chris placed his hand on your thigh, stopping you from doing so.

“Please Chris,” You whimpered in a sultry tone, pouting your lips in hopes Chris would take it easy on you, however it was the opposite of that.

He wanted to enjoy, no, savor his time tormenting you, knowing you were loving every moment of it or else he wouldn’t see you come undone like this, a complete mess. Deciding not to waste any time, Chris pushed the entire dildo in your cunt till its base was flush against your pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You hissed, clenching your walls around the toy as your breathing became labored, your lungs struggling for oxygen but the lack of it was intoxicating to say the least, and you couldn’t be more thrilled and satisfied.

Chris pulled the toy out then carefully slammed it back in, continuing this motion as he listened to how wet you were. If only it were his cock instead of the toy, then he’d have his real fun with you. He can practically feel the pre-come on the tip of his cock, his balls pulsating to every moan and whimper that spills out your mouth.

“Look at you… didn’t know you’d look so pretty stuffed like this,” Chris whispered before sucking on his bottom lip. It was the only thing helping him from fucking you himself.

The restriction you were in prevented you from doing anything, especially from moving away from the violation your pussy was enduring. You took what Chris was giving you and you were drugged by it- overwhelmed with its immense pleasure that it left you light headed and yearning for more. You were digging the side of your cheek into a pillow as you tried to hold back your orgasm, not wanting the euphoria to go away.

Chris roughly grabbed your jaw, making you look at him as he growled, “Tell me when you’re about to come.” The command enough pushed you to your limits as you felt the familiar tingle sensation in your abdomen as it tightens, your walls starting to pulsate around the toy. And before you knew it, you reached your climax.

“Chris!” You screamed, releasing yourself around the toy but it was quickly pulled out for you to notice and replaced with Chris’ cock. He pumped his member animalistically, grabbing the ropes around your forearms as leverage to fuck you nice and hard. He allowed his hips to rhythmically move in a pace that had you gasping for air, forgetting that you just orgasmed.

“Fuck, baby. That feels so good. So damn good,” you cried with a groan, biting your lower lip as the sensitivity worsened by the second.

Moan after moan was music to Chris’ ears, but his cock had been getting the bad end of it, desiring for some kind of release so he couldn’t help himself. Not when you were like this in front of him. How could he not enjoy this like you were. “That's it babygirl. Tell me how much you love my cock in your pussy. I think it’s a perfect fit, wouldn’t you say?” He mocked, gritting his teeth as he could feel you clench around him, causing his jaw to go slack. “I love it when I can feel you squeeze around me,” he admitted, thrusting.

You were beginning to see stars and weren’t sure if you’d be able to hold on for much longer. You knew what he was trying to get you to say, but you refused to say it, not wanting to give in that easily. “At least the toy made me come quicker,” you sassed, earning a glare from Chris.

But he let those words fly over his head as he leaned down and kissed you hard. It was heated and messy yet empowering. The friction from his beard added to how his touches left you needing for more- unable to pull away because it left a fire deep inside you, a fire of passion and love.

You pulled away for air as Chris continued to kiss your jaw then down your neck, greedy to get every inch of you. And with a few more thrusts, Chris aimed for your g spot repeatedly which threw you over the edge. Chris quickly followed behind, not being able to handle how tight your pussy wrapped around his cock- white ribbons of semen spilling and coating your walls.

In all your years of having sex, you hadn’t come so hard and you assume you could say the same for Chris. He groaned as the last jerks of come spill out before he went slack against you, making sure not to put all his weight on top of you.

Once your orgasm subsided, you softly kissed the side of Chris’ sweaty head to see if he was alright in which he hummed as a sign he was good. You whimpered when he tried to move, your pussy quivering due to its severe sensitivity. Chris carefully leaned up on his forearms on either side of you as he looked down with a smirk. “I never thought a toy would lead me to have the most amazing sex ever.” He chuckled, pushing the strands of hair that were glued to your forehead away from your face.

You watched him with hooded eyes, a smirk spreading across your face, “I’m glad you’re turning sides now,” you hummed.

“Baby, you’re forgetting who was doing the real work now,” he reminded, quirking a brow before leaning down to place a gentle, sweet kiss on your head. You playfully rolled your eyes and giggled.

“Get me out of these ropes so I can love you properly.”

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#chris evans #chris evans fic #chris evans smut #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans x reader fic #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans imagine #fluff #smut

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lloronista · 5 years

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chrysanthemum in the mirror, moon on the water

(鏡菊水月)

Shisui/Itachi | Samurai AU Rated M (violence & eventual smut) | 1690 words Chapter 1/13 --- Prologue ---

鏡花水月 (Kyōka Suigetsu) - ‘mirror flower, moon water,’ meaning something that can be seen but not touched, like an illusion, a mirage.

The whole world was dyed red.

Red sky stained by a red sunset, the sun itself bleeding out into darkened clouds in the west as it sank into the earth, into its mirror image in the puddles left in the rainstorm’s wake. Puddles long as small lakes and shimmering red, the way only water takes in light when it hemorrhages so deep a shade as this and magnifies it. Makes the world liquid as an open artery.

At four years old, Itachi had watched a man die in such a way.

He’d watched as the boy carrying him on his back took up a sword and slashed a grown man’s throat. What frightened Itachi wasn’t the act of killing itself, nor the sudden hollowness in the man’s stare as his hands flew up uselessly to press at the wound. Eyes like a ghost’s, as if he could already see a landscape beyond this one. He’d hardly registered that a second later such a fate could have been his own; samurai children are not afraid of dying.

Water sloshed around the older boy’s calves as he trudged through one of these deeper puddles, slowly so as not to stumble over any limbs. Off in the trees farther away, cicadas droned on.

Death surrounded them on all sides, as inescapable as air. Mere hours ago, in the onslaught of battle and storm, the marshy field had been transformed to resemble a gash in the earth. He’d wanted to see it, not even knowing what it was. Wandering the wooded and rice-paddied area past his home’s borders was not unusual for Itachi; curiosity had guided him further that day. It was as if every living creature, the crows in the trees and insects in the grass, could sense something about to erupt. The impending storm, the pounding of hooves into confrontation. Itachi had underestimated the scope of the plain and ventured too close, ensnared once the clans’ skirmish blew into a full battle. Thunder roaring in the skies, from the feet of hundreds, inside of his chest.

None were as deafening as the silence that followed.

Itachi had never heard such a silence, like the air was paralyzed. All around them, the dead piling up, their faces rendered unrecognizable yet united in the same expression of lifelessness at the end.

Bodies are such fragile things.

The slosh of water crowded Itachi’s ears, growing more unbearable by the minute. Yet his voice would not materialize and beg the sound to ease. He could only continue to stare transfixed at the crimson sky’s reflection in the water, rippling with every step. Imagining that even the heavens were trembling.

I am in shock, Itachi thought, testing the word out, like a foreign material between his fingertips. Like the farmer last week in the village, who’d only been able to sit paralyzed after cutting off his thumb and losing so much blood without dying. His father had relayed the story to him. How the man hadn’t been able to speak when someone finally stumbled upon him in the field, though his eyes had stayed open the whole time. Still witnessing everything around him. This is what it feels like.

Palm-sweat dampening the cotton under his hands where he clung to bony shoulders. Stiff and quiet as he held on. Just gazing out at the macabre scenery colored by a dying sun.

Itachi hated this color. This intense, unforgiving shade of red.

He hated this helpless feeling, the stench of corpses festering in the stagnant puddles and humidity. He couldn’t even feel grateful to this boy who’d shown up and saved his life, annoyed at how his messy hair kept tickling his nose.

“Hey.” The owner of the messy hair turned to peer over his shoulder—there that nest of curls went again, brushing Itachi’s cheek this time—his human voice dragging Itachi out of the depths of his thoughts. “You falling asleep back there? You’ve been awfully quiet this whole time.”

Asleep?

As if this place wasn’t a nightmare anyone would hope to wake from, reality waiting somewhere else?

Could he crane his neck more, the boy would’ve met quite a pointed stare from Itachi, brows knit in an unfittingly adult way for such young, round features. The muteness plaguing him finally cracked.

“Why would I be asleep?” he demanded, instantly regretting how sullen it came out.

The boy let out a mirthful huff. “Just wondering. You can go ahead, you know, if you want to.”

“No thank you,” Itachi mumbled. “Anyways, you should be quiet, too. Someone will find us.”

“There’s no one but us here. Us and the crows.”

The remaining warriors had retreated, groups from the winning side of the bloodbath chasing after them. Surely they’d return soon, to retrieve the fallen—those who were important, at least. Itachi watched the last of the sun’s ember glow cooling down, the color no longer so severe once it congealed. Shadows draped over the hills would soon expand fully into night. In the dark, figures moving among the battlefield had such a way of racing through the imagination.

“If they see us, they’ll think we’re looting.”

“We better reach the woods soon, then. It’ll be easier to hide there.”

Itachi nodded, conscious the older boy wouldn’t see.

“I’ll be able to find my way alone from there.”

“And risk having the Uchiha heir’s blood on my hands, if something happens afterwards?” The older boy chortled. “I don’t think so. Maybe next time don’t run away from home and find yourself in such a messy situation, huh?”

Itachi’s eyes flashed at that, unable to pinpoint if what dug under his skin more was the idea that he was pampered back at home, or if it was this boy’s know-it-all attitude when he was hardly more than a child himself. “What about you, you followed me here, didn’t you?”

His shoulders shook under Itachi’s hands as he let out a small laugh—the first pleasant sound to fall on Itachi’s ears that day. “What can I say, I couldn’t help but notice you.” He craned his head again, this time catching Itachi with the full weight of his glance. “You’re glad, though, right?”

Embarrassment flooded him. Dazed still, hollowed out by every awful thing he’d taken in that day, Itachi’s exhaustion was no match for the mortifying ordeal of being tended to by another radiating through him. The hands hooked under his knees had splotches of dried blood crusted on them; had held a sword when Itachi couldn’t.

Maybe that’s what it was that had frozen Itachi in that moment of fate—that he could not even fight for himself.

Hands too small to grip a sword-hilt, little limbs too weak.

“I can walk now.”

The boy made no move to let him down, soldiering on with careful steps up the slippery incline they’d reached. But his tone was gentle as he told him, “It’s alright. We still have a ways to go once we get to the forest. I won’t get tired.”

�� *

Voices called for the lanterns to be lit as soon as sentries picked out two small figures approaching the gate. All at once, the Uchiha compound stirred from its uneasy slumber with lights flickering to life throughout homes and at every guard post. In a matter of moments people were emerging from their houses, tired faces illuminated by candles and oil lamps, their lights together speckling the darkness in a way Itachi couldn’t help but find reminiscent of a festival scene, only the whimsy had been overtaken by a somber and frantic tone. A commotion bloomed in the courtyard as his brethren rushed to surround them, ushering the two boys past the gates and into their swarm of questions and care.

“Lord Fugaku’s son is alive, go and tell him at once!”

“Thank the goddess Kannon he’s safe!”

“Look, they have blood on their kimono!” one woman cried upon seeing the dark stains on the fronts of both boys’ clothing. “Where are you injured, child?”

Throughout the fuss, Itachi stood numbly with his hand in the other boy’s, shaking his head, ‘no, I’m not hurt,’ or nodding ‘yes, I’m okay.’ Beside him, the other boy seemed overwhelmed, unused to the amount of attention. A muscle in his finger twitched, tightening its hold on Itachi’s.

Just then a rough voice, though no louder than those around it, boomed above the din. “Where have you been, Itachi?”

The worried aunts and other elders parted to let Fugaku through, their clan leader’s face a mask of fury. All eyes fell on them as parent and child reunited.

Itachi looked up into his father’s eyes, limned red and shining with relief despite the harshness in his stare. Recognized the fear and concern behind his anger, and felt ashamed. His own gaze dropped to the ground. “Forgive me.”

The tension seemed to thaw then.

“Come.” His father placed a hand at his back and urged him toward their house. “You owe your mother an explanation. Get inside.”

Before Itachi could open his mouth to speak, he felt himself pushed along, wrenched so swiftly apart from the other boy.

“Thank you, everyone, for helping to find my son,” his father addressed their kin, bowing his head forward. “On his behalf, I ask your forgiveness in causing such trouble.”

As they started toward the steps on the verandah, Itachi turned back toward the boy he’d spent the entire day close by, and their gazes caught one last time. What kind of look was that on his face, he wondered, that expression neither fully relieved nor sad? He thought about it while his mother helped him out of his dirty clothes and inspected him for cuts and bruises, the bathwater beside them pleasantly steaming. She didn’t cry when she laid eyes on him, but took his small body into her arms and just held him there, suffusing him with warmth more wholly than the hot water ever could. Yet still, Itachi couldn’t help but feel the ghost of heat in his palm from where that strange boy had been holding his hand.

#mywriting #posting just the prologue for now since i'm still getting kinks worked out in the overall outline #(also maybe gauging interest for this au 👀)#also not putting this in any characters/ship tags yet xD #but i'm really excited about this project so i want to get it started ;v;

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nibsthebravelostboy · 4 years

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Visiting Level E Camp [nisty]

@itslostgirlmisty @thezacharywinters

[Misty]

Misty watched Nibs walk away and waited until he was gone before she rushed into the bathroom and vomited violently. Her eyes turned bright blue as the guilt of her lie hit her like a truck. She sat on the bathroom floor crying as she didn’t know what to do at that point. She heard Waddles come in and even though she was so mad at him, she let him comfort her as she pulled herself together.

Waddles didn’t leave her alone as she headed back to the cove. She noticed Hope sleeping on the couch and went into the room to back her things before seeing the note on the dresser. She read it and picked up the number as she looked over it. She set the note down and the number before grabbing her phone and texting Nibs.

I’m sorry Nibs, I know what you did to make this baby possible and it is everything I want and more. But I am tired of losing baby after baby. Ombra is right...and I refuse to let it put me through that pain anymore. I can’t go to them...I don’t want it done right. I never want to get pregnant again. I never want to watch our baby die in our arms again or see your face when blood is covering my legs...I can’t do that.

She sent it to him and left her phone in the room before she told Waddles to stay with Hope as she went to the level E camp.

[Nibs]

Seeing the message from Misty, Nibs was quick to text her back.

You can’t lose the baby. I would have to go to Pan and have everything undone again. The deal I made with him...it prevents anything from harming you in a way that could prohibit you from getting pregnant again. I know what Ombra and Jack did and I made sure that our child would be untouchable for both of them. Ombra doesn’t know what it is talking about. The only way that you could lose the baby is naturally, it can’t forcefully take them from you. The baby was enchanted the moment you got pregnant. Any children we have from this point forward are safe from the monster. So if that was the reason you wanted to go through with it, you don’t have to. I know you are scared but you know that I wouldn’t lie to you about something as serious as this. The monster was saying it to get under your skin, it’s not after us, not anymore.

He typed out before shifting and heading to where she was going just by following her scent.

[Misty]

Misty went to the camp and tried to find the person that gave her the number and when she did they were quick to tell her they wouldn’t give it to her again. “Please come on, he will never know. I won’t tell him you told me...or if you don’t want to tell me just take me there.” She begged before they told her no. She looked at what she had and took off one of her gold rings one of the royals gave to her, “Here. That’s all I have. Will you please just take me?” She asked before they finally agreed and she followed them into the darker side of the level E camp.

Misty didn’t really care about the other jewelry she had on her besides her wedding ring and the necklace from her sisters so she held her hand closely to her before walking into the house. The person left her alone as she walked the dark house and came upon a room. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of the dirty utensils and the red lit room. “Um...” Her eyes turned purple as she headed into the room and the door was closed and locked.

[Nibs]

Nibs arrived at the camp and saw the gold ring on one of their fingers. “Where is she?” He growled before they were quick to lead him to her. The male broke down the rusty door before walking through the hallways. “Misty...did you read my messages? If you are scared of the monster taking our children away, it can’t anymore. The deal I made...it protects you and any children we have ever since the deal was made. You would be going through a lot of pain for no reason, I know you are scared but I promise you that everything will be okay.” He says before seeing a door that was locked. “Misty…?”

[Misty]

Misty was told to sit in the chair and did as she was told before her legs were opened. She gripped the side of the chair tightly as she looked down. “Wait...just...I need Nibs.” She said before hearing his voice in the hallway. “I’m going crazy.” She said to herself before the voice got louder. “Nibs?” She asked before her eyes turned blue when he said everything would be okay. He never knew that. He was making a promise he wouldn’t know if he could keep, but Misty loved how much he wanted to take care of her. She loved that he was so willing to make that promise for her.

When he called her name she opened her mouth to say something but felt a needle going through her arm causing her to look over and see her blood being drawn. “Fuck...” She said softly before feeling lightheaded.

[Nibs]

He could sense something was happening and when he saw the door was locked he shifted and smashed through it. Venom dripped from his teeth when he saw the siren drawing blood from her arm and he ran over and tackled them, causing them to drop the vile of blood. Take your hands off my wife. He snapped before taking out the needle and licking over the wound so it would heal. When the doctor made another effort to save the blood, he knew what this was about.

He snarled making the doctor take another step back. Nibs licked up the blood from the floor until there was nothing left. Feeling something hitting his back, he growled before turning around and snapping at the nearest siren trying to sneak around Misty.

[Misty]

“Nibs...” She said softly as she watched someone hitting his back. She was still really lightheaded but moved to sit up and grab one of the items on the table and stabbed the siren behind her in the eye before watching them drop on the ground. She got off the table and stumbled over to Nibs, “I’m so sorry Nibs. I didn’t...I shouldn’t have lied...I...I’m so sorry.” She said before seeing someone behind him and reaching around as she shoved her hand into their chest and pulled their heart out.

[Nibs]

Nibs stood protectively over Misty before seeing her reaching into someone’s chest and pulling out their heart. When the doctor lunged for Misty, Nibs moved her so that it hit himself instead. He yelped before growling as he bit and ripped the doctors head off with his teeth. I know princess, we need to get out of here though, I know there will be more coming. He tells her before getting down so that she could get on his back. Get on. He tells her.

[Misty]

Misty felt Nibs moving her out of the way before seeing him get hit. “No you’re hurt you can’t carry me Nibs. Just go okay, get the guards and come back. I can handle it.” She told him as she quickly wrapped his wound. “You have to go.”

[Nibs]

I can heal. I will be fine. Push the button on your necklace. It will alert the guards of our location. He tells her before seeing more people filing into the room but that didn’t stop him from standing in front of her and protecting her.

[Misty]

“You put something in the necklace from my sisters? When did you do that? How do you get jewelry off of me without me noticing?” She asked before seeing more people filling the room. She decided to just ask him about it later as she stayed behind him as she pressed the button on her necklace.

[Nibs]

He snarled at the people as they came into the room and if they tried to attack he was able to rip into them and throw them into the others. His ears perked up when he heard the thud on the ground outside. Just in time.

[Zach]

Zach was alerted that the queen and king were in danger and he told the kids that daddy was going to be right back. He went to the level E camp after shifting and he landed with a loud thud in front of the house. He shifted back before commanding the guards to stay outside and take care of the E's that had snapped that were guarding the building.

He made his way inside and started wiping out person after person without so much of a second thought until he found his way to the room where Misty and Nibs were. Once he wiped out the sirens that were in the room that left only Misty and Nibs remaining Zach felt a cold chill come over his body.

[Ombra]

His eyes voided as it smirked, "Look who I see...I thought you weren't afraid of me Misty?" It smiled before shooting Nibs with something that would temporarily blind him and paralyze him. It then approached Misty with an unsettling smile. "If you wanted to gift your child to me, you didn't have to go through all this trouble, I could have just simply ripped it out of your stomach, like so." The monster smiled before trying to push its hand into her abdomen to rip out her child but finding that it was protected by some type of green shield. "Are you shitting me? What the fuck..." It tried again but was stopped again from doing so.

[Misty]

Misty watched Zach walk in the room and saw his eyes turn black before watching it walk closer to her. She moved back until she was pressed against the wall. Her head was throbbing as she grabbed it’s arm, “Would you fucking stop doing that?” She asked before looking at it. “I am really sorry Zach I will heal you later.” She said before crushing it’s hand.

[Nibs]

Nibs could instantly feel something was wrong with Zach when he noticed the male's eyes voiding over. But Nibs was confident with his deal with Pan that his wife and child would be safe. When he felt his vision being taken and his body being unable to move, he was worried but when he heard Ombra's words, Nibs couldn't help but to laugh. The magic is protecting you and the child. That monster can’t hurt you. He tells Misty.

[Ombra]

It was confused when it was unable to get through the shield. It could touch everything except anything that Pan protected with it’s magic while Ombra was absent. It was a risk that Ombra severely over calculated. It felt nothing as she crushed it’s hand. It growled, “Fine, I will admit it, you got me this time. But don’t let this one win get to your head princess.” It snarled before disappearing.

[Zach]

Zach could feel his consciousness coming back as he was confused how he ended up in front of Misty. “Misty?” He asks before feeling a slight pain in his hand. “Oh...well that's unfortunate.” Zach sighed before letting his eyes glow bright red as he healed and snapped his arm back into the proper place with a grunt. “There much better. Are you two okay?” He asks before looking over at Nibs who was walking over to Misty already.

[Misty]

Misty watched Zach pop his arm back into place and let her hand rest on her head as she just nodded. “I feel fantastic.” She smiled before she looked at Nibs. “It’s over right? Because I’m...I’m going to pass out and I need to know it’s over.” She said to him before fainting.

[Nibs]

Nibs went over to Misty the moment the monster left. He caught her in his arms before she could faint and he sat them both down. Nibs bit his wrist before holding it to her mouth hoping the smell would wake her up enough for her to eat. “Yeah we are fine. Help the guards outside and then tell me when it is clear.” He told the other and watched as Zach left the room.

[Misty]

She felt Nibs’ arms around her and felt his blood dripping onto her lips as she let her tongue run over his wrist before she bit down onto it. When she finished she licked the wound clean before looking up at him. “Are you mad at me?”

[Nibs]

When she looked at him, he just kissed her. “I wish you would answer my text messages sometimes.” He teases lightly. “I know you were scared princess, I can’t be mad at you for being scared. You and our baby are protected, you saw it for yourself just now, it can’t hurt you. Not anymore.” He nuzzled against her before giving her another kiss. “I am just glad that you are safe.”

[Misty]

She kissed him back before smiling softly, “I left my phone at the cove, I knew you would keep texting me.” She smiled before kissing him again. “I am glad you are safe. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I love you so much.”

[Nibs]

“I know you did. Sometimes I do have good things to say you know.” He teases before nodding his head, “I am not going anywhere princess you know that. I love you so much too.” Nibs smiles before kissing her deeply for a few seconds. “How about we go home now?”

[Misty]

Misty smiled as she kissed him back just as deeply. “I would like that a lot.” She smiled. “Actually...no, I don’t want to go home. I want to go to your tent and just lie in your arms...can we do that?”

[Nibs]

Nibs nodded his head, “Of course we can.” He says before hearing Zach say that the coast is all clear. He picked up Misty in his arms and carried her out of the house and took them to his tent. “You sure you don’t want us to get cleaned up?” Nibs teases.

[Misty]

She didn’t even try to convince him to let her walk and just stayed in his arms until they arrived at the tent. “I guess we should. That place was really dirty.” She teased back. “Do we still have clothes here?”

[Nibs]

“Of course we still have clothes here, but I can always snap ourselves clean so we can hop right into bed if you rather we do that instead of showering.” He offers up with a smile.

[Misty]

“Mhm no we can shower. I think that might be the only time you will let me walk.” She smiled up at him before kissing him. “And we don’t use magic for things we can do ourselves. That is the rule, remember.”

[Nibs]

“That is very true, that is one of the rules I made a while ago but I think we can have an exception to this rule just this once don’t you think?” He teases, “I will let you walk you know, I just like to carry you around.” He smiles.

[Misty]

“I know.” She smiled. “Okay just this once, but don’t get used to it mister.” She teased him. “But please make sure it’s your shirt you put on me.”

[Nibs]

The male lets out a small laugh before nodding his head, “Of course princess.” He smiles before snapping them clean and so that Misty could have one of his shirts on. “There we go.” Nibs brings her to the bed before setting her down so that they could get comfortable in the bed.

[Misty]

“Thank you.” She smiled as he set her down on the bed. She moved over to take his phone and text Hope, not knowing if Zach had told her what happened. She set his phone back down before cuddling up to Nibs. “Everything will be okay?”

[Nibs]

“Everything will be okay.” He reassures her as he pulls her closer and lets his fingers run through her hair soothingly as he holds her in his arms.

#misty #misty178 #zach

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abripikuunah · 5 years

Text

Thalassophile

Pairing: Odazai (Oda Sakunosuke x Dazai Osamu) || Word Count: 5201 || Rating: Teen and Up (Imply Suicide, Light Angst, Fluff)

A/N: My first submission for Odazai Week! Day 3 ( Gakuen Au ) !!!!This has illustations so I hope you would like this gift of mine! Comments and Criticism is very much appreciated and I want to here your thoughts! I hope you have enjoyed this fic <3.

Summary:

The footprints in the sand carries the existence of our adored past, but the waves full of painful memories has swept it all away...

Only the moon and the starless sky was present that time.

It was cold, so cold that the temperature feel like it was squeezing him, from his flesh reaching through his nerves and bones, leaving him breathless, but it felt right.

Water fills his insides as he let himself drown in the salty water. His hazy eyes watched the light of the moonlight reflect on the sea, imitating a barrier between his pathetic life and the afterlife he desired. He's so close to it, as he could feel the corner of his sight blurring. His insides are screaming in the burning sensation as they're about to be filled with ice prickling water.

So cold, very cold.

Just how it should be.

He closes his eyes, and let the flash of white overcome him and his senses.

But before that happens, a certain red stained all of it.

“Oh…”

THUD!

That’s the last thing he heard before his vision was turned into complete darkness. He didn't know what happened after that. There's nothing to see, nothing to hear, just blankness. Had death finally consumed him whole, and threw him away from his miserable life?

No… that felt too cheap.

He isn’t sure where he is today, but the next thing he knew, he was staring upward at a white ceiling with a fan rotating to circulate fresh air.

‘I’m not dead.’

“Hey.” A voice calls from behind him.

He looks at the corner of his eye to see his company, just to make sure his guess was right. Red eyes that resembled the warm hues of the sunset in some sky; it felt so warm and comforting. Its radiance was soft, as if those eyes could relax Dazai just by looking at him. The two kept staring at each other, as Dazai smiles while turning his head, twisting his body for a bit before greeting back, “Hey-” Only to feel a sharp pain pricked somewhere in his brain “Ow, ow it hurts…” The brunet mumbled, massaging his temples.

“Careful. What happened almost caused you to get paralyzed.” The other man sighs as he inserts a bookmark in the book and scooted closer to inspect the injured man. Dazai gave out a chuckle and was about to retort to assure the man he's alright, but his breath was caught in the air when he felt a thumb caressing his unbandaged cheek. He bit his lower lip before they hesitantly turned upward into a faint smile. “I'm fine, Odasaku. Of all people, you should be the one who knows that a mere slip wouldn't kill me.”

The red head looks at him with disbelief, “You never know Dazai.“ he says, his voice bold and strict. The younger man frowned at him, much like a toddler whose toy was taken. But can you blame Oda? Dazai might have survived all the punishments of his past mishaps or attempts, but in the end Dazai is still a human, born with flesh and bones just like the rest of them. Not immortal nor a being that could regenerate his wounds quickly. Granted, his body does have an impressive remark on healing himself for such a surprising speed but there would always be the time Dazai won't be so lucky.

“Geez Odasaku, I told you, I’m fine and as you can see, I'm well.” he opened his arms widely for emphasis, but was only given a raise of a brow in reply. “Though my heads hurts a little- but my body can manage.” A grin was etched on his face to assure his companion, and Dazai quickly changed the subject. “Getting gloomy when I just woke up, no? Let talk about something else shall we?” He then points at the hardcover book Oda was holding, “All those books that you've been reading, are they for your upcoming program?” He inspects the title as the red head nods. “My, you seemed excited to become a teacher~”

“Student teacher.” He corrects the brunet who sits up, “It'll just last two months. Starting from the second half of the semester until the last week of your third quarter. After that I'll go back to college and finish my degree.” Oda adds.

“Wahh!” Dazai immediately twisted away to raise his arm to cover his eyelids and make a dramatic fuss, ”Odasaku will leave me alone and rot at campus all by myself. So heartless and cruel of you, leaving your dear friend and lover like this.This pain is much worse than being tortured to sweet, blissful death-”

And he let out another exaggerated cry when a throb pulsed through his head.

The older could only watch the younger complain about his concussion without giving any help - until he decided to hold on Dazai's chin so he could reprimand him with a stern glare, “Maybe if you didn't keep yourself getting injured. We’re both college students attending the same campus now.”

Dazai opened his mouth, ready to protest, but when no words are able to form to escape his mouth, he immediately closes it before puffing his cheeks and shot back, “So mean, Odasaku-sensei.”

That phrase causes butterflies in Oda’s stomach, but he doesn't want to cater to those thoughts for now. He gently pinches Dazai's cheek, who whines in protest. “Don't call me like that when we're both alone.” Despite the warning, Dazai gripped Oda's hand and smirked mischievously, “What was that, Odasaku- sen~sei~?”

Oda pinches a bit harder and Dazai yelps, “What am I gonna do with you?” the older sighs.

When he stops pinching, they stare into each other’s eyes. Dazai's pupils traced every feature of his partners face looking for slightest bits of changes other than the heavy eyebags that took toll on his skin - probably for staying up to check on him, Dazai deducts. But that mere thought gave a fluttering feeling in Dazai's chest.

At the same time, Oda just gazed at him tenderly, but noticed a little bit of redness in younger man’s cheek. Oda takes the initiative and leans towards Dazai's face to give a chaste peck on his crimson skin as an apology. When he pulls away, Dazai sits up properly and snakes his arms around Oda's neck while the latter placed the book on the nearest coffee table and lets the brunet take the initiative. Dazai then tries to catch his lips and soon after, their lips connect and share a innocent kiss, hopefully to express the words ‘I miss you’ and ‘I'm so worried’ through the contact. Dazai tilts his head to coax himself closer -

That is, until another pulse from his migraine hit him. He quickly pulled away, yelping a little while massaging the sides of his temples to relieve the pressure a little. “Rest for a bit, Dazai.” Oda instructs as he let out a deep exhale, “I'll let the doctor know you're awake.” He stands up, only for a hand to grab his wrist.

“Stay for a bit will you? “ the brunet pouts. “I don't know how long I was unconscious and I don't want to see the doctors immediately after I just woke up from that cold, soundless sleep.” He gently adjusted himself to the side, careful not to trigger anymore pain and extended his arm out, “Come here and snuggle with me, Sensei!”

“Stop that.”

“Never~” Dazai continued to tease.

Then Oda gave another glare down at the floor and was silent, but Dazai shyly looked up at him like a stray kitten.

“Please?”

Oda huffs in amusement as he shook his head. Honestly speaking, Oda doesn't have the will to refuse his lover, even if he didn't have to put up that adorable act. “Fine.” he declares as he walks back towards the brunet who smiles in victory.

“Okay but after ten minutes, I'll call the doctor.”

“An hour!”

“Dazai… Twenty minutes or I won’t make curry for you.” Oda argues.

“Ehhhh?! Fine.” He scoffs childishly.

When he walked towards the brunet, Dazai asks “That look on your face… Did I worry you too much?” he smiled as he watched Oda sit on the bed, the bedframe underneath squeaking in protest. When Oda’s weight sinks in the mattress, he helped Dazai settle in next to him, careful not to bump the syringes and pads connecting Dazai to the heart monitor and IV tube. Lanky arms wrap around Oda’s chest while the redhead gripped Dazai’s hips and pulled his body closer. Dazai sighed with bliss as he let his head rest on Oda’s chest. “See? I'm still warm Odasaku. I'm still breathing, alive. You don't have to worry.”

“Well you did fell on the stairs four steps away from the ground.” His companion says in defense, resting his cheek on Dazai's hair. “That alone is concerning and you can risk yourself bumping your head pretty hard and having an internal hemorrhage. Thankfully you didn’t break your spine either, since-”

“Odasaku,” the brunet stops him, “How many times do I need to tell you that I won't die that easily? Geez, a mere trip down the stairs is an embarrassing death after all. I don't want the neighbors to brand me, Dazai Osamu, the bandaged man that died because he fell of the stairs. I would be the laughing stock of the century if that happens!” He huffs, grimacing at the thought. “I would rather have a sweet romantic suicide with a beautiful lady. That alone is poetic.”

Dazai really likes to slip words in his tounge like water without thinking any consideration, Oda thought with a grimace on his face. Despite Oda getting used to hear his whims about suicide and tantalized about death accepting him from this ‘miserable cruel’ world, Oda can't shake off the thought of seeing Dazai in his deathbed. Even with spending much of his time lecturing the young man, the words coming from the third year’s mouth stings painfully in Oda’s chest.

But despite it all, he still continues to be with him, willingly to check up on him and make sure he's not alone because-

Because he loves Dazai.

“I'm just scared to lose you…” he finally admits under his breath.

“Not like last time...”

None of them uttered out a word after, Oda was only waiting for Dazai's reply, wanting to know how he would react, but knowing Dazai, he won't show anything at all. Dazai's breath was stuck in the air, unable to reply to his confession. He's glad that Oda cannot see his expression at this angle or he would probably jerk away from him if this man had witnessed the redness of his ashamed face. When he felt the grip on his waist tighten, he scooted closer and hid his face in Oda’s chest. “Heh, silly Odasaku…”

They continued to stay like that for minutes, Oda keeps stroking the fringes of his hair, Dazai keep listening to Oda's heartbeats pounding, thump thumping in his ears. They chatted about him being unconscious for two days, then onto the news that's happening in their neighborhood. The middle school graduates, including Nakajima and Tanizaki, were becoming first years and they would soon be Dazai's schoolmates. The other piece of news they discussed is that Kunikida, one of Dazai's ex-classmates, was offered a student teacher position at Dazai’s school by none other than Fukuzawa himself. But the big news they talked about was-

“What?!” Dazai exclaimed.

Oda had to live at his university for a whole semester - and to make matters worse, he was going to be leaving tomorrow. “Just how? The semester doesn’t start for another week or so, right? I thought you're okay with commuting?”

“It was sudden, but Natsume-sensei offered me to stay at his place for the time being since he thinks it'll be more practical and I would lose a lot of opportunities just by traveling everyday for a long period of time.” he kissed Dazai's cheek to lighten up his mood and assure him. “I'll be back next month. Don't worry.”

“Hmph, fine. But you better bring me something when you return back home.”

Home…

Those words make Oda chuckle as adoration bubbled up his chest, “Will do, Dazai.” As his lips pressed against his forehead.

This continued on until Dazai looks out the window and sees the view of the ocean from afar. A thought came into his mind, but Dazai hesitates if he should even mention it. But then again, this would be the last day the two of them would see each other until three whole months passed.

“Odasaku.”

So it doesn't hurt to try.

“You know, I made you worry for no good reason.” He starts, shifting from his position to meet his lover’s gaze. Oda looks at him with a brow raised. He smirks, “As an apology, I'll be doing you the favor of going to the beach with me. I think I’ll get discharged today anyway, since I think I'm a good shape now. It's been a while since we visited there together, what do you think?”

The older blinks at his partner’s invitation and looks at the ceiling to ponder. “Well…”

“Beside, I won't see you in months.” He adds, hoping to finally be able to convince the man besides him.

The redhead took a deep breath. He seems to be contemplating with his thoughts while Dazai waited for a reply, but then he felt Oda pulling away from his grasp. Oda stands up and fixes the collar of his shirt, “I'll go fetch the doctor then. I'll be back quick.” he turns around and gave a small tilt to check on Dazai, who just smiles.

“Hurry up then, while the sun is still up.”

----

Only the moon and the starless sky was present that time.

It was cold, so cold that the temperature feel like it was squeezing him, from his flesh reaching through his nerves and bones, leaving him breathless, but it felt right.

So cold, very cold.

Just how it should be.

He closes his eyes, and let the flash of white overcome him and his senses.

But before that happens, a certain red stained all of it.

---

Scarlet eyes worriedly trailed behind the lean figure as Oda watched the boy excitedly take of his shoes while examining the beach. Fortunately, the doctor said Dazai was free to leave, but has to be cautious, not move his head so much, and not perform any heavy activities for quite awhile. “Be careful.“ he reminded the exuberant Dazai.

But his words seems to be ignored in the playful breeze as Dazai turns around, waving at Oda and shouting “Odasakuuuu!” before running back to him and yanking his arm to invite themselves closer to the sea. “Come on! You can't have me just enjoying the sea by myself! I would look stupid.”

“But the doctors said that you're not allowed to move your head too much-” he was interrupted when a finger was pressed against his lips.

“Oh hush and do me a favor by not reminding me about those cruel instructions by that doctor, and let me enjoy this last day of summer with you for a bit, okay?” Dazai fumed, but when he notice the darkness of Oda’s expression, his face shifted into worry.

Oda… Oda wanted to say no, the anxiety that's pounding inside his chest was demanding for him to decline and be strict. He wished to say he's already being considerate, escorting him to the beach despite these disturbing emotions that crawling up his spine. Yet he doesn't want Dazai to be upset, but in the end, he was afraid of both outcomes. He thought of himself as nothing but a coward.

A coward that let those horrible memories of the two of them being wrapped by the ocean’s deadly embrace be the sole reason behind why he’s scared to visit the place they used to favor so dearly.

Dazai, the genius that he is, seems to read the toll on his mind. So his expression softened, “Hey.” He calls out to Oda, who blinks and then stares toward him in acknowledgement. “I told you, this is my apology for falling down the stairs, so I promise I won't do anything stupid or do things that will make you even more worried, alright?” He smiles, brown eyes softly gazing at his partner.

The older man studies Dazai before he finally tilts his head down in defeat just by seeing those big eyes, as stubborn as they were soft. “Fine.” He saids before adding, “But if I see any small signs that you’re getting worse, we'll go home immediately.”

Dazai's mouth forms a grin of agreement and continues to drag his boyfriend along the shore. Oda watched Dazai - his face beams in delight, so bright and cheerful, but is he feeling happiness in his heart right now? Is he truly happy? He doesn't want to ask, but he wants to believe it. And if it was reality, then Oda wishes for him to hold unto those emotions till the very end.

The shore is where they're free, like the birds that flew away from the depressing earth and bathed in the warm glow of the radiant sun. This feeling of warmth and freedom is what he missed years ago.

Until that tale of a boy whose blood spilled over the shore would never leave his mind, no matter how hard he tried. In the end, those tales would only lead him to break.

But he wants to throw it all over the edge of the horizon and let him forget the uneasiness in his chest. The echoing reverie to see Dazai smiling again caused determination to well up inside him. If he could treasure and let that smile last, where his skin radiates brighter than the sun, those chocolate eyes that twinkled like the liquid gems of the sea, then Oda would do his damndest to suppress the dark memories and his overall agitation that has been mocking him.

A quiet smile etched up in Oda's usual expressionless face as he cherished the moment.

When they're close to the ocean water, the brunet lets go of Oda's arm, scoops a handful of water and throws it towards his companion.

“H-hey!”

Dazai lets out a childish giggle from seeing Oda glare at him. Rolling his eyes, he starts to take off his shoes and decides to play along with the younger’s antics. “So you want to play it that way, huh?” He lets his voice sound murky and dark, like an overly dramatic villain.

“Uh oh. Sensei’s getting mad.” Dazai teased as he moved away urgently from Oda’s impending wrath. When Oda finally placed his shoes and socks on the beach, along with Dazai’s necessities, away from the ocean’s reach, he followed his partner with a smirk on his face. “Are you testing me?”

“And what if I am?” Dazai grinned, “Bring me your best shot Odasaku!”

Then Oda rushed towards Dazai, pulling him close in a tight embrace as their laughs echoed across the neverending sea.

------

His throat hurt, desperate as he gasped for air…

It feels so hard to breathe, his lungs are burning, it all felt dry.

He hears someone screaming, shouting, calling, its voice clawing deep in the night, but he doesn't realize who and why.

But when scarlet red was stained in his palm that has slowly been seeping away towards the water, a sign of a promising fate that would end in tragedy, he knew why.

It was his own bruised throat and no one else but himself who has been screaming underneath the dark night.

And the whole village were able hear the mournful screams of Oda Sakunosuke as he desperately tried to save Dazai Osamu, the boy whose blood was spilled in the never ending sea.

------

Eventually, darkness came and the moon has replaced the sun, soft light reflecting off the sparkling water of the ocean. The breeze was chilly as it softly caressed their skin that was still damp with the ocean water. Their fingers are laced while their bare feet sink into the sand as they walked around the shore.

They quietly talked about small things, between hushed voices and whispers, their fingers playing with each other as their conversation leads them nowhere in particular. They let themselves be steered away from the cruel reminder of time’s existence, away from reality, just away from everything to forget the burden in their outside worlds. They revelled in the normalcy as young adults who just wanted to be together, and enjoy each other’s presence.

But now that it's dark, it feels like they're slowly breaking away from their own illusions.

So they talked and talked as if tomorrow would never come.

Until they finally have nothing to say to each other anymore, and only the rushing water singing a soft melody to accompany the evening air could be heard. Their arms are close as if they could feel each other's pulse, both are alive and well. Dazai watches the waves reaching towards them, occasionally kicking the salty liquid half-heartedly for amusement, while Oda's eyes travels at him. Both men are buried their own thoughts.

If Oda wants to guess what's going inside Dazai's mind, it would probably be about his fascination about suicide.

Drowning is the method he always favored, Oda know this, it pains him to say it but he has witnessed it many times before. Dazai told him that whenever he sees the beach, it feels like an open gate for him to escape his way to escape reality. The place where he looks upon to to let his thoughts be free within the wind and a place where he can enjoy himself.

A place where he would marry death.

Oda blinks for a moment as they halt their movements, none of them utter a single word but Oda stared at Dazai expectantly. The brunet eyes however, despite uninterested, traveled towards the cliff making Oda followed his direction of sight.

Oda would admit that there was something that always worried him about Dazai. Dazai’s mind was so sharp and intelligent, far more than was good for his sake, and it reminded him of a cliff towering over the sea, enticing humans to explore it but like a promising death and despair should they make one false move, even if it was to turn back and flee. Breaking the wild silence, Dazai finally mutters, "It's been eight years since we both visited here, no?" Oda was only able to hum in reply. "Eight years..." He repeats, as if he trying to properly taste of those words in his mouth. Before the older has the chance to interrupt, the other continues to speak, "Since then, everyone treated me differently. People started to be distant. They're always worried, they think that I could blame them. Though I'm not sorry, either. After all, even I wanted to be distant away from myself." 'Away from this world...' It was unspoken but nevertheless, Oda can hear it out loud in the heavy air. "Dazai-"

He interjects with a small voice, "But you..." He pauses, biting his lip until he was able to form the proper words , "You treated me the same. You always gave me normalcy, no matter what." “Despite this disturbing tendencies of mine, you still accept me as who I am.” But then, Dazai turned his head and faced him as he gave an unpleasant stare, almost starring past Oda. "If I wanted to be honest Odasaku, I want to read all the pages of your book to understand." Oda felt his fingers were gripped tightly as if they would slip in mere seconds away in his grasp the moment it loosens.

“What don't you understand?” He asked, rubbing his calloused thumb at Dazai's to provide comfort, gesturing him to tell his thoughts out and not to be afraid to speak the truth.

“I…” His voice trails off. Eyes watching their laced fingers for an encouragement.

“You still kept seeing it right? That moment where I almost died.” he breathed out.

Oda will always remember, he will never forget how terrified he is to see Dazai in the bed, heart weakly beating, skin colder and whiter than the snow of winter. How everyday it pains him to see that time, when his life was held by a single thread, ready to snap both Dazai's life and Oda's sanity.

Dazai's eyes looked deeply into his, searching for a sign if he should stop or not. Oda doesn't speak but he nod to beckon the younger to continue.

“Since then, you hated going here because you always remembered, and despite knowing that, I was still selfish and asked you to go with the beach with me. And you made an effort to grant this wish of mine and went along.” He breathed out as he finally asks.

“How do you do it?”

He was gazing so deep into Oda's eyes, that he flinched for a bit when he felt a warm hand stroke his cheek and brush the hair on his face. He really doesn't understand why; it was so foreign, so new no matter how many time he did that. Regardless, it was still comforting and serene.

Oda glances down before he looks back at him again and gave out a small smile. “We are all humans. All born with our own flaws and our selfishness. I don't want to sound like a hypocrite, but whatever selfishness and flaws you have, it still adds the fact that it made you the Dazai Osamu I fell in love with.” He admits.

Dazai pretended not to be flustered but the redness of his cheeks betrayed him until Oda casually added, “For me, one of my selfish desires is to see you smile and grant the promise I made.”

His eyes widen, mouth hanging, If the brunet's face was dusted with red before, then his face right now is almost at a tint of a tomato.

“Seeing you happy today is enough for me.” Oda continues, leaving Dazai breathless. It wasn’t the first not going to be the last, but...

Never once can a person leave the garrulous Dazai hanging wordless. He cannot think of any befitting words to shoot back at his lover. But he still felt obligated to continue the conversation. In the end, after what felt like an eternity, he was only able to say

“Thank you.”

The voice was low and faint but the wind managed to carry it to Oda’s ears.

“I had fun today.” Dazai murmured, after having the courage met those scarlet eyes once more with his, a sincere smile etched in his face as the dimples pops out of his cheek to signify how genuine his expression is. “And I'm glad you have as well.”

Oda can can feel the tip of his ears burning and was only able to pat Dazai in the head. “I'm glad. After all, anything we do together is fun.”

Dazai huffed out a breath and forged a knowing smirk, “Not as fun as yourself.” He reciprocated.

Oda was only able to raise a brow out of confusion, not knowing what he meant as the other could only laugh in delight. Dazai pinched Oda's nose while the latter grunted in protest.

After rubbing his nose, Oda noticed the full moon staring up at the sky. Dazai followed his gaze and mumbled, “Time really flies fast, huh. It feels like yesterday we were just kids playing here with Ango, and I just woke up a minute ago from being unconscious. But the reality is, many years have already passed since then.”

Oda can only hums in concordance. “It's getting late.” He finally reminds Dazai and himself about the unfortunate reality of the world they live in. “It's time to go home.” He sighs as he watched Dazai groaning in disapproval.

“I don't wannaaa.” He whined, eyes begging for consideration from Oda. He clings on the Oda’s arm and continues protesting. “Besides, where Oda is is my home.” He declares but after a few seconds of a starting match with his boyfriend, he finally, reluctantly, agrees.

“Come on. Let's go at your place and get you showered.” Oda then walks, escorting Dazai towards the exit where the main street is. The prodigy walks in tow, a mischievous smile on his face. “Aww, then why not we shower together so you can warm me up?” His voice tingles with a certain promise.

Oda, however, chuckles at the sly suggestion, “That is nice, but I have something else in mind”

“Oh?” Dazai eyes glistened with curiosity. He leans toward Oda's shoulder and pressed his cheek against it affectionately, “This better be interesting since you're able to turn down such an offer. Tell me about it then.”

“Well.“ he paused, and looked around the beach so he could let the revelation of the surprise be dragged on longer. The brunet still saw through his own antics and kept nudging him to go on. Finally, Oda said, “While you're taking a shower, I would prepare a dish I just learned how to make a while ago.”

Dazai tilts his head for emphasis, “Oda will cook something for me! Does it have crab?”

“Crabmeat and Zucchini with Kofuki and homemade mochi.” He announced.

Excitement flashes on Dazai's face as he then took the lead, dragging Oda hurriedly behind him like a child, “Let's hurry then, I’m hungry - and snuggling can come after!”

Those words sowed warmth in Oda's chest.

To see Dazai's heart right now set in the right place, his mind not hidden away in the shadows where his demons kept whispering to him. To be able to witness his genuine smile and hold his now warm hand. It's enough to Oda. Even though he rarely, if ever, displays this sincerity to anyone else, if he kept holding his hand and let him know his presence will always remain there, to encourage him and support him, then maybe he would finally fully open up to them.

They might be back to reality now, where the complicated system of life and all its problems would never change. But there would be a time where they have nowhere else to go but wander aimlessly. Regardless of what life brought them, they will face it nonetheless and survive through the cruel seasons. They will hold each other close and take each other's hand and never let go.

After all, that's their oath towards each other.

‘Even if you will drown in your own abyss that will consume you alive… take my hand’

In a small little ward, a young boy vowed a pledge to a dear friend of his, who looks at him with hollow eyes.

‘But what if I don't take it? What if it's all too late?’ He asked, studying his redhead companion carefully. The redhead suddenly grabs his hands, and without hesitation he declared-

‘Then I'll catch you in my arms and won't let you go.’

…

It was a memory that they would forever hold.

For once, light was evident to the young patient’s eyes. For once, he didn't feel alone. For once, he had seen the faint ray of the light . For once, the boy who accepted that he would never be loved believed a promise.

A promise to hold him .

And Oda will stay true to his words, and he will never let go.

Not now...

Not ever.

Sadly though, their paths followed the unpredictable ebb and flow of the stormy waves of life.

And the only certain things within life is the bittersweet endings and broken promises.

-THE END-

#odazai #My writing #my art #odazaiweek2k19 #odazaiweek #bsd #bungo stray dogs #Oda Sakunosuke #Dazai Osamu #fanfic

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