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ggsworldstory · 1 year

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Chapter 1 Act 6: Captive audience

(July 29, 9 days until launch)

It was a crappy day outside, rain was pouring, wind was howling and unfortunately, the delinquent duo were caught right in the middle of it all, scrambling to find any form of shelter

“Of course it had to storm when we’re in the middle of nowhere!” Terry yelped, expressing his frustration at how barren the landscape was

“Over there!” GG exclaimed as he pointed to a large figure in the distance, upon further inspection it appeared to be a house, under normal circumstances, entering a random house in the middle of nowhere would be a bad idea on par with breaking pasta in italy, but in that moment the two were desperate and pushed onward. Oddly enough, the door was unlocked

For a moment the two stood in darkness

“Alright, we’ll just stay here until the rain dies down” Terry said

“Sounds good to me!” another voice called out

“Uhh, did you catch a cold, kid?”

“That wasn’t me…” GG spoke, scared and confused

Suddenly the lights came on and in front of the duo was a familiar yellow and purple jester

“Well if it ain't my number one fan!” K.lown exclaimed

“Oh hell no! Not you again!” GG retorted

“Is this the clown you told me about?” Terry inquired

“Y-yeah, and I ain't falling for his crap again!” GG replied

“Ah, take it easy, I’m off the clock!” K.lown responded as he pointed to the purple beanie resting atop his head in the place of his typical jester hat

“Hmm ok, counterpoint” Terry said, nonchalantly shooting his gun right at the jester, but K.lown was quick to react, catching the bullet and chomping it as if it were a kernel of popcorn. “Hmm needs salt,” he quipped.

Terry could only stare in terror, flabbergasted as to how such a feat was humanly possible

“...yep we’re outta here” GG stated in equal fear, immediately heading for the door, only for the wind to blast his face until he inevitably closed it again.

“I’m more than welcoming to some good houseguests!” the clown somewhat snarkily remarked

“Look kid, we clearly can’t trust this guy but we also don’t have any other choice the second the rain’s gone, so are we” Terry whispered to GG

“Fine.” the boy said with a sigh

And so, they were stuck, they remained ever-vigilant, refusing whatever offers the clown made as part of his obvious facade.

But no matter how long they waited, it kept raining, raining and raining some more. Eventually night fell and it was still storming hard as ever.

“Say, you two look tired, how about ya hit the hay?" K.lown offered

"No, we're FINE." GG snapped back, remaining adamant about not wanting to fall for the jester's tricks again

"Yeah…" Terry replied with an obvious tiredness present in his voice

"Eh, I'm used to tough crowds" the Jester spoke back, "at least let me show ya your room?"

"If we do, will you shut your clown mouth?" GG irritatedly responded

"Sure as the grass is green!"

"Alright then" Terry pitched in, still noticeably sleepy as the clown led the Duo to the guest bedroom

And what a bedroom it was, there were beds of all kinds! Soft beds, firm beds, bunk beds and even race car beds! All laid out across a long corridor

The Delinquent duo were in absolute awe at what they were seeing "heh, working for that casino really has its benefits" k.lown boasted, "welp, I'll leave ya to it!" He continued as he exited the room and shut the door behind him

Immediately, Terry went to lie down in one of the fluffy, king sized beds, "ahh, like a cloud…" he said in his overwhelming relaxation

However, at this moment, GG snapped out his feeling of amazement and ran up to his lounging teammate, "hey! Mentally unstable bullet-eating clown, remember?!" He panickedly berated

"Kid, I know, but can't I just lie down without you throwing a pissyfit-"

Terry interrupted himself by abruptly falling asleep

"Hey, hey!" GG frantically spoke as he rubbed his hands together like a pair of defibrillators and shocked the cowboy awake

"OW, WHAT THE HELL!" Terry screamed in pain, somehow still being earth-shatteringly tired

"look, I get it, you're tired, I'm tired, we just need to wait it out a little more, so we can skedaddle on outta here!" GG explained with bloodshot eyes

He then navigated him and Terry to the kitchen "so what's your plan?" Terry questioned

"Simple" GG replied, "whenever me and Jess tried staying up all night, we just had some coffee!" He continued as he grabbed a load of random items scattered about the kitchen cabinets "course, Jess was the one who actually made the coffee,but how hard can it be?"

GG then proceed to toss pills, juices, and all sorts of things that are definitely coffee into his pot, somehow believing he was in fact, making coffee

Terry was absolutely horrified seeing the boy create such a concoction, especially as he proceeded to pour it into a pair of mugs

"Well, bottoms up!" GG remarked as he readied to take a big gulp of his brew, before Terry snapped out if his disbelief and slapped the mug outta his hand

"Hey, I worked hard to make that!"

"Kid, that was NOT coffee, I don't even think that was legally allowed to exist"

"Since when did either of us care about the law?"

". . .let's just try something else… please" Terry suggested

The duo groggily meandered about the house in search of some way of staying awake, soon stumbling into the TV room

"just w-what we need, r-right?" GG remarked, struggling to stifle his yawns and fighting to keep his heavy eyelids peeled "r-right?" He repeated as he got no response, turning to find Terry nodding off, standing next him

"Hey!" GG panickedly yelped as he slapped Terry to wake him yet again, the cowboy could only mutter a small "ugh…" in his sleep deprived state

Wasting no time, the duo seated themselves onto the couch, as GG grabbed the remote and eagerly pressed the button to see whatever high quality cable the clown had access to

And what he found was… static, just static. GG was befuddled for a second but immediately received an explanation in the form of the sound of thunder from the ever-ongoing storm

In response GG could only scream into the couch cushion next to him, only stopping right before it could put him to sleep

"Kid, look" Terry tried to reassure GG,"if we keep staring this, we should be more awake soon enough from blue light or some shit" He explained, despite retaining little energy in his voice

With this new information in mind, there seemed to be more hope Than what GG initially thought as he replied "I guess you're right-"

Only for the TV and all the other lights to abruptly turn off in the middle of his sentence, once more the duo were plunged into pitch black darkness

Not even being surprised at this extremely unfortunate turn of events, GG simply facepalmed, until hearing Terry’s audible snoring “oh for crying out loud with this running gag…” GG weakly groaned as he once more tried to slap his friend awake

But this time it didn’t work, GG let out a “huh?” before trying again, still nothing, He tried electrocuting him like he did before, still nothing

Worried as ever, GG lit a small fire at his fingertips to see what exactly was going on and he noticed something… A syringe with “K.O” written in a comical font stabbed into Terry’s arm!

And at the same time he saw this, GG heard the floorboards creak, prompting him to terrifiedly turn around to see… K.lown, holding another identical syringe, “Ya need your eight hours…” He sinisterly whispered Before leaping into the air and attempting to dive at GG with the syringe!

Reacting quickly in his blind panic, GG grabbed Terry and ran out of the house as fast as his green booted feet could take him!

Unfortunately, given GG was still sleep deprived, he was far less fast than usual and soon enough, K.lown was hot on his tail, driving a car small enough to be a toy, “With a job this fun, who needs a day off?!” he quipped as he cackled with vigorous insanity

Knowing he needed to somehow go faster, GG began to panickedly press many of the buttons on Terry’s jetpack, hoping to ignite the thrusters, eventually, this would end up in him triggering the pack’s cart mode, GG was thrown off at first as he wrestled with the swerving vehicle with its momentum on the slippery terrain, all whilst trying to keep both himself and Terry on the cart and away from the clown.

Eventually, he managed to get the cart going fast and stable,the chances of escape became higher, but the chase was far from over as K.lown’s car steadily began to catch up

Frenziedly searching for something to stop the deranged jester with, GG noticed one of Terry’s pistols protruding from his pockets

He grabbed it before struggling to grasp it in the pouring rain, “How do you use this thing!?” GG yelped before eventually managing a firm grasp! . . . before accidentally dropping the ammo clip

K.lown wasted no time to take advantage of this blunder, grabbing the clip and after a few seconds, he stuck his head out the window and spat the bullets back at high speeds as if they were but green peas!

All GG could do was duck for cover, eventually peeking his head after the sound of bullets flying stopped, and he saw K.lown’s car was closer than ever and the jester began to climb out of it before jumping into the jet cart, syringe in hand!

GG couldn’t produce a fire strong enough to not get snuffed out in the rain and he struggled to make significant use of his electricity either, he could only dodge and dodge some more as K.lown continually tried to swing the syringe into him

Eventually, K.lown became noticeably tired of this cat-n-mouse game as the two were standing on opposite sides of the speeding cart, until K.lown noticed Terry’s unconscious body lying on the cart’s floor before looking back to GG with a most devious glare

“Welp, one’s better than none!” he remarked as he tried to grab Terry by his legs and jump out of the cart

But GG was once again quick to react, Grabbing Terry by his head and trying to pull him back with all the might he had left!

This intense, tug-o-war went on for some time

“I… won’t let 'em down! Not again!” GG yelled, even while soaked from the rain, the tears rolling from his eyes were all too apparent

“Open your eyes! You already have!” K.lown retorted

GG’s grip slowly began to dissipate, and with it, K.lown’s deranged smile grew bigger, for a moment, it all seemed hopeless

But in a last minute, adrenaline fueled effort, GG managed to muster a spark, then another, growing bigger with each spark until he built up enough charge within to unleash one large surge of electricity, Letting out an exalted roar as he did, it traveled through the rain and gave K.lown a truly massive shock that quickly made him lose his grip and fall right off the cart!

GG reeled Terry back onto the cart before gazing at the jester tumble off far away, looking with equal feelings of triumph and extreme exhaustion only being able to slightly wheeze in celebration

He turned back to the path ahead and immediately after…

Clonk

He crashed into a tree

He was out cold

(July 30, 8 days until launch)

GG awoke, the rain had finally stopped, after recovering from his initial drowsiness, he looked to his surroundings in panic as to what happened

To GG’s relief, Terry was in one piece, albeit face planted on the ground

More concerningly however, the Jetpack was crashed into a rock in the distance, “oh, that’s not good” GG said

At this moment, Terry finally woke up, “ough, my head… WHAT THE!?” he hollered with rage, seeing his jetpack crashed, immediately rushing to check up on it

“Good morning to you too” GG remarked attempting to make light of the predicament

After completing his inspection, Terry turned to GG, “HOW THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN!?”

“Say-”

“WILL YOU SHUT IT WITH YOUR WISECRACKS!?”

“Hey! I’m sorry I crashed the pack but-”

“So it WAS your fault! AGAIN!”

“I saved you from that clown!”

“It doesn’t matter! I don’t have my tools,a chunk of the map is ripped out, I can’t get the pack fixed in time for us to get to the dogobogo jungle AND IT’S ALL. YOUR. FAULT!”

At this moment, GG snapped,

“ALRIGHT, I GET IT! IT’S MY FAULT, IT’S ALWAYS BEEN MY FAULT!” GG yelled, his voice breaking

He continued, “IT WAS MY FAULT WE GOT CHASED BY THOSE ARCHERS, IT’S MY FAULT WE GOT CHASED BY THOSE BIKERS, THE DIRECTOR, THE CLOWN, ALL OF IT MY USELESS, WORTHLESS, FUCKING FAULT!” he screamed as tears poured from his eyes and he began punching the ground in frustration, “It doesn’t matter how ‘good’ I get with my powers, it doesn’t matter how many shitty one-liners I try to hide it behind, Jess, my parents, the toppats, even you… I LET YOU ALL DOWN!”

GG was in complete distraught, bawling his eyes out on the ground, even Terry couldn’t help but have second thoughts as to the blind rage he had just expressed, as he watched GG crumble to pieces before his eyes.

“Kid…”

“Just go without me...”

“What? What about everyone you just mentioned, you’re just giving up on them?”

“OPEN YOUR DAMN EYES! AS LONG AS YOU’RE AROUND ME, YOU’RE BOUND TO GET HURT OR KILLED! You said it yourself, they’re better off without me…”

“…”

“JUST GO!” GG shouted as he began run off

“Kid, wait!” Terry shouted back, as he tried to chase him

GG tried to get a lightning run started, but to no avail, “oh come on, now!?” Terry came closer to catching up, but GG was persistent, exerting himself more and more, desperately trying to force something through, eventually, it seemed to work and his running became faster, but the electricity wasn’t flowing naturally as it usually was soon, it became physically painful for GG, nevertheless, he kept going

Eventually, a thick blockade of trees could be seen, GG tried to force a fire knot his hands to punch them out of the way, causing him even more anguish, but he still kept going, the electricity shocking his soul and the flames burning his brain, but he refused to stop, as did Terry who continued to give chase

Eventually however, it became too much, GG tried to fire punch one last tree…

And he collapsed, passed out onto the ground

“Kid!” Terry called out, rushing to see if GG was ok, ultimately he still had a pulse and was still breathing but showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

Terry loaded GG onto the pack’s storage, which was still in good condition through everything, taking extra care to make sure GG’s head was sticking out so he could breathe

“I’m not letting you quit, kid. We’re getting to the jungle, with or without you being like this”

And he walked off into the horizon, Marching towards their goal once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Act 6~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#thsc oc #thsc fandom #toppat oc

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anxiousnerdwritings · 3 years

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Yandere Scarecrow/Jonathan Crane w/ Horror Author!Reader (platonic)

A part 2 to something I did awhile ago that you can find here.

Jonathan is well aware of you and your books. Hell, he would go as far as saying he was your original #1 fan before that clown ever knew you existed. He, unlike Joker, couldn’t care less about the blood and gore in your works. No, Jonathan was more enamored with the terror and fear you were so good at portraying in your material. He’ll proudly tell you how some of your works were able to cause him some form of anxiety or distress.

His favorite books of yours to read were the psychological thriller/horror ones. Anything that had to do with the fear of the mind was golden for him. He liked seeing how you went about mentally and or emotionally scarring your characters. Jonathan would really get immersed in whatever you came up with. He was eager to see what you’d throw at him next.

Jonathan is very much under the impression that you write your books solely for him. He’s delusional enough to believe he’s the only one who knows about you and your writing. Jonathan fees like he knows you on a personal level not only from reading your books but also from stalking following your social media and whatever else he can find in regards to you.

He studies your books, every single one. Taking notes, annotating and highlighting specific things that could either use more research and detail or that inspired him. He was honestly surprised by how accurately you portrayed and described certain aspects in your stories. You really went out of your way to research and find whatever you could on whatever subject you wanted to introduce.

Your books may have even encourage him into becoming the Scarecrow. If that’s the case then he’d owe a lot to you and your works. You’ve helped him into discovering his purpose and that purpose is to spread the fear. He wants to do good by you and what better way to do that then to spread the terror and anxiety that you try to induce into your books.

Jonathan writes to you religiously. He sends you fan-mail after fan-mail, you don’t even have to respond but he would be so euphoric if you did. It started off with him just writing to you about your books and whatever ideas he thought you might be interested in. Then he started writing to you like one would write to an old friend. Jonathan will write about his day to day, his whole week before sending it to you. Whenever something comes up the first thing he does is write it down to send to you later.

Jonathan also takes to keeping journals; both about his own ideas for your books and about his progress with whatever fear toxin he’s working on at that time/his overall discoveries of fear. Once he fills every page in the journal he’s working on them he’ll send it along with his weekly stack of letters.

It would take Jonathan some time before he felt comfortable enough to personally visit you. That goes for your book signings and any other events you may take part in. The first time he did ever go to a book signing of yours and made through the entire line to meet you was the best day of his life. Sure, he was nervous as all hell but he was on cloud 9 by the time he left. He’d beat himself up over all the times he stood in line only to puss out and leave before he could meet you.

The first time he ever visited you at your home was as Scarecrow. The whole time he had to keep himself from fainting, not to mention fanboying. It was a dream come true really, not only to meet someone he highly regarded but also to be in the presence of where you come up with the most thrilling and terrifying of your works. To say Jonathan was inspired was an understatement. He was completely and utterly enthralled.

Much like Joker, Jonathan will become a constant presence. You’ll find him in your home in the dead of night more often then not. You can’t count all the times you’ve woken up to the Scarecrow looming over you, just watching. It was definitely a frightening surprise the first time it happened but it did leave you inspired. And Jonathan couldn’t be more happy to be of help towards your creative endeavors.

When Jonathan does inevitably end up back in Arkham your works become his solace. He may even try to start a book club dedicated to you and your books only but it wouldn’t last long. Jonathan can’t handle any negative criticism towards your books. Or any criticism for that matter. He would end up killing or at least maiming anyone else involved in his book club. At least now he knows that it’s better off with him being your only fan. That is until he finds out Joker has been raving on and on about you and your books as well.

As much as Jonathan commends Joker for his taste in literature he can’t accept Joker’s connection to you. He hates it really. He doesn’t believe a single word out of Joker’s mouth regarding how close he says he is to you. Or when Joker talks about all the books he’s both inspired and helped with. A deep seeded rivalry would surely ensue. And it gets pretty petty.

If you have written to or are writing to Jonathan while he’s incarcerated he will most definitely use that as ammo when he and Joker inevitably get into their daily argument about who is your biggest fan. Jonathan’s argument being that at least you write to him or that you’ve been in correspondence with him longer than Joker. Either way Jonathan and Joker couldn’t ever be friends not even for you. That doesn’t mean they don’t at some level respect each other’s dedication to you but that’s not going to keep them from fight and trying to one up each other.

One thing that is for sure though is that all of Arkham will not only know who you are but they’ll know all about your books too. You may even end up with some new fans. Or they may just decide to stay away from anything that has to do with you if Scarecrow and Joker are involved.

Jonathan and Joker have both pulled up at your book signings, both wearing questionable disguises (Jonathan’s at least look less flashy compared to Joker’s). This especially happens more often then not after they’ve gotten out of Arkham. It’s a fight on sight with these two. They’re shoving and pushing each other getting only more intense and downright unfair as they get closer to you. It gets to a point when Joker pulls out a gun and Jonathan has his fear toxin at the ready. Everyone else around scurries to get the hell out of dodge and then Batman pulls up to stop it, grabbing a signed copy of your book while he’s at it. When Jonathan and Joker are together it always ends the same; with them back in Arkham.

If you thought that was bad then just wait until they both end up at your home at the same time. With a house at least they’ll have more room to tussle and you can go somewhere else to work and leave them be. But in an apartment you’re stuck trying to work around them as they tear your place apart. And of course Batman is a constant presence as well, coming to take your biggest fans away giving you some much needed peace and quiet. Only for the cycle to start again in a few days.

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hamburgergod · 3 years

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to defeat a clown, one must simply clown harder.

a 15x20 fic, destiel, ~800 words.

thanks to @hearthmistress for the help and esp with the suggestions!!!

(tagging @a-healthy-dm-trying-her-best bcuz i saw your tags)

[AO3]

“This is Heaven?”

“Yep,” Bobby says with a swig of his beer. “Your boy Jack fixed things up around here.”

Dean feels a tickle of pride. “Huh.”

“Cas helped.”

Cas.

“Time,” Bobby is saying with another swig of his beer, “it works differently here.”

Is that why?

Dean takes one last sip of the shitty beer in hand, and smacks his lips. The car door opens with a pleasant creak, and Miracle is there, waiting for him.

“Since when were you a dog person?” Bobby asks.

Dean throws a grin at Bobby, and gives Miracle a big fat kiss on the forehead. He ruffles her face between his palms and gives her another big fat kiss. He’s so glad she’s here.

“I’m gonna go for a drive,” Dean says.

He looks up expectantly, and waits one more second.

Nothing.

Dean frowns, and rubs his cheek.

Bobby smiles knowingly.

“See you soon,” Bobby says as he drives away.

They did a great job renovating this place.

Miracle is panting happily in the back seat with her head sticking out the window, and the sky above him is a clear blue with peppers of clouds. Dean taps to the rhythm of the song blasting from the radio as he hums along with the road stretched out before him.

This could be perfect.

It would be perfect, if just—

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean slams on the brakes.

The radio continues to croon in the background as Dean stares at the figure clad in beige sitting beside him. The wind blows through the forest of pines, rustling the leaves in its wake. He looks at peace with himself as he meets Dean’s eyes with fondness that always had Dean wondering if—but Dean never dared to hope that he—

“Hey, Cas,” Dean breathes.

Cas smiles with a tilt of his head.

“Cas,” Dean says again; wraps the word around his tongue. He’s here. He’s here. “Cas. Cas, fuck—”

Cas gravitates towards him like Dean is the centre of his pull, and Dean squeezes him into his arms until he feels like the dam that burst in his chest has flooded his lungs and he can’t breathe anymore.

Dean buries his face into the crook of Cas’s neck and lets the tears soak into Cas’s stupid dumb trench coat because this bastard—he just—

“How long?” Dean asks harshly. “How long have you been back?”

“Dean—”

“You fucking bastard,” Dean spits with another squeeze. “How can you just—You’re just so—”

Cas lets Dean cling onto him until Dean’s had his fill of clinging, and only when Dean stops leaking tears everywhere does Dean gently pry himself off. His muscles ache as he moves away, but he doesn’t care, because Cas still has that look on his face that used to make Dean want to jump out of the car and scream from being overwhelmed by what it is.

He knows what it is, now.

“I—lost track of time,” Cas explains, looking down almost sheepishly. “Catching up with Jack on what happened, renovating Heaven with him, I…” Cas slumps. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Damn right, you better be fucking sorry.” Dean is not crying. “I can’t believe you let me believe you were just dead.”

“I was.”

“Not helping, Cas.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas murmurs again. He quietens, and Dean waits because they have all the time in the world now, and isn’t that crazy, that they have all the time in the world to figure this out now? Cas is looking at Dean like he hung the moon, and Dean has all the time to figure out what that means for them now. “I’m glad to see you again, Dean, even if it seems too soon.”

“You son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, and leans over to crush their lips together.

Cas stiffens only for a second before he eagerly responds, and Dean feels Cas’s hand on his shoulder where he last left a bloody handprint. Cas takes all of Dean’s anger at him—he didn’t come to him sooner, he should’ve come to him sooner—and still he keeps their kiss soft, gentle as they finally navigate this between them.

They part with a shared breath, but only just far enough apart for Dean to look at Cas in the eyes.

“Cas,” Dean breathes, “don’t ever do that again.”

Cas makes an inquisitive sound against his lips.

“Stop dying for me,” Dean continues, as Cas leans in for another kiss— “I’m serious, Cas.”

“Dean,” Cas murmurs back, “when did you get a dog?”

Dean blinks. He huffs, kisses him because he can, and says, “Her name’s Miracle.”

Cas dubiously raises his eyebrows at the name, but doesn’t comment on it.

“I love you,” Dean continues quietly. “Cas, you know that, right?”

Cas wordlessly kisses him again, slots their mouths together like Cas has been thinking about this for as long as Dean has, and Dean silently takes note at the back of his mind to tell Cas again later, just in case Cas doesn’t know. He’ll just have to tell him as many times as he wants.

They have time.

#spn #15.20 #destiel #my writing

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hotchscvm · 3 years

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i do

Warning: language, major character death, violence, angst

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Soulmate AU where the last words you will ever hear from your soulmate is written on your wrist so you won't know it's them until you've lost them.

Staring at the words on your wrist, you held back another sigh, tracing the black ink with your finger, dread and sadness washing over you. You shuddered at the words, unable to rid of the lump in your throat.

I do.

Born with the words on your wrist, no one knew when they would meet their soulmates, unknown to who your other half was until they died. It was cruel, knowing the last thing they'll say to you would cause you immense pain. Horror stories stemmed from the agonies of other's pain, movies made out of the tales that would become famous.

Some, those who were protective of their hearts, buried themselves away from others, but fate always led them to their soulmate. No matter how short the time would be stretching from the duration of your life to a single second before you'd lose them. The best outcome to happen was when two lovers let go, and spend their lives together, to die at when they were to, finding out they had spent their lives with their one and only. That possibility was becoming more and more realistic with modern technology and wishful thinking.

Yet, there was some tragedies. The unfortunate ones would have their sentences written on their wrist, knowing they'd only know their soulmate for a short time, or not at all. “It's nice to meet you.” "What's your name?" "Can I get your number?" "Sounds like a date." Not knowing them at all was, to most, was worse than to know them at all.

A few rare situations when your soulmate would die young. Parents told horror stories, reading the words off their kid's wrist. "We're playing dodgeball in gym!" "I didn't do my math homework." "You can come to my birthday party. I'm turning seven next week!"

Then there were the most terrifying stories. They were the ones turned into thrillers, a real life story turned into a disrespectful horror movie. They'd lose each other, aware there was nothing they could do. "I thought you locked the door." "I don't think we're alone." "Behind you!" "Someone's in the house."

Thankful none of the situations applied to you, you still couldn't get the words branded in your wrist out of your head. It lingered, whispering the last words before your heart would be torn, only healed when death came for you. Some looked on the positive side, knowing meeting their soulmate was inevitable.

Natasha broke you out of your reverie as she tackled you down on the mat, leaving you breathless at the sudden attack, confused to how you've become acquaintances with the ground. You spit your hair out, grimacing in disgust as a few strays stuck to your lips. With your hands tied behind your back, and crushed against the former assassin's body, you turned your attention on her smug smile, glaring daggers.

"Okay, get off before Tony pictures us scissoring again." you grunted, too tired to push her off of you. Natasha laughed, letting your wrists go as she shifted her weight off of you, sitting next to you on the thick mat. You rolled onto your back, closing your eyes in exhaustion. "That was unnecessary, Nat."

Spending the day at the gym with Natasha seemed like a good idea after being beaten by Clint the day before. You knew you were getting rusty, without all the life threatening missions and people to save, your skills wasn't needed. Besides, you loved yourself too much for Steve to convince you to join him on his suicide runs. He woke up before the sun rose, and it only took a few runs to realize that even you couldn't keep up with his fast pace. ("Although, I would love to see his fast pace in the bedroom. Ow, Sam!")

After tying the score—despite the lack of training, you and Natasha still tied when it came to hand to hand combat—you had sat down on the bench, which was now sweaty, and sulked, sighing over the words written on your wrist.

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning on her elbows as she eyed your expression, eyes narrowing when you didn't return her smile. "What's with the sad face? Are you thinking about your soulmate mark again?"

"You know I only allow myself to think about it once every other month." you replied. Natasha made a noise in respond but you ignored it. "Shut up, I know I'm pathetic. No need to voice your opinions."

"You're not pathetic, just compassionate." she whispered, her eyes sparkling with remembrance. Natasha had lost her soulmate on a mission a few years before the Avengers were formed, but it didn't stop her from living her life. You hoped you could follow her path when the horrid time came. "Out of curiosity, if you had to guess, do you think you've met your soulmate by now?"

You've given it much thought, coming up with a good theory that even Tony Stark would be impressed by. Of course, you didn't share it with anyone, giving Nat the simplified version of it. "With the amount of people I've met, I like to think so."

The playful smirk returned to her lips, a wiggle of her eyebrows as she digested your words. "And do you think a certain blond, big-hearted, super soldier might be it?"

You reached for the nearest water bottle, throwing it at her only to have it hit the wall behind her as she dodged it. Natasha laughed, putting distance between you, sensing an attack. You scowled at her but it lacked real annoyance. "Oh my, God. I have, like, the smallest crush on him and you're already planning our children's proms."

"I'm thinking: under the sea." Natasha joked, grinning when the corner of your lips curled up. The both of you burst out laughing, thinking about Natasha in a ridiculous kid-friendly dress as she chaperoned yours and Steve's future offsprings.

As if summoned, Steve chose that moment to enter the training room, freezing in his tracks when he saw you and Natasha cackling. His expression made Natasha double back into another round of laughter while yours subsided in giggles. Steve cleared his throat, looking down as a slight blush decorated his face.

He murmured your name, walking up towards you, his blue eyes eyeing the ground with too much interest. "Did you hear about the party Tony is making all of us go to?"

Natasha stopped laughing immediately, jaw clenching at Tony's betrayal. They had a truce where Natasha would stop hacking into his system to play Spice Girls—with the help of Bruce, of course—and Tony was to stop throwing parties every month. It's been three months since the last party, the one where Natasha has almost killed the billionaire. Tony couldn't hold off any longer. She stood. "I'm going to kill him."

Before either of you could get a word in, Natasha was already out the door, her stance deadly as Tony Stark awaited his death. The door slammed close behind her as Steve sat down beside you on the mat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

You admired his ruffled hair, blond strands hanging down on his forehead. You had mentioned to him that he looked sexier with his long hair, and it seemed like he was following your advice. Dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Steve Rogers was every girl's waking fantasy. It truly was unfair how good he could look in sweats.

"Hey." you greeted, smiling sweetly at him. Being happy around Steve was as easy as giving Pepper Potts presents. He returned the smile, grinning from ear to ear as he looked away, his cheeks reddening even more. "What can I do for you, Stevie?"

"Thor wanted to have some kind of Asgardian contest that may or may not level the top floor. I thought you might want to do something else, have a peaceful night instead of risking our lives to one of Thor's games?" he asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Not letting excitement cloud your senses, you grew cautious, eyes narrowing as you looked around the room, trying to search for a hidden camera that would allow Tony to get you back from ruining his thousand-dollar crocs. Steve Rogers was not asking you out in no way.

Steve saw your expression, quickly backing off. "Only if you want to. I'm sure you missed Thor and all. It's okay, I can suffer a few third degree burns—"

"No!" you shouted, making Steve flinch at the suddenness. You cleared your throat, cheeks heating up. "Uh, I mean, yeah. I wouldn't mind missing the party. Where did you plan on going?"

Slightly surprised, a smile crept on his lips. He ran a hand across his face to hide the cheeky grin. "Wherever you want to go."

You threw him a smile, unhealthily giddy. If Clint were here to comment, he'd compare you to a happy school girl with a massive crush. "Oh. Okay."

A voice interrupted the short silence, scaring both you and Steve. You suspected the AI, Friday, had been invested in your conversation. "If I may make a suggestion, I advise you both to leave sometime in the next hour before Mr. Stark ropes you in. I'm inclined to think Mr. Stark won't be above blackmail."

"Thank you, Friday." you murmured. The AI said it's goodbye, far too amused for your liking.

Steve got up, offering his hand for you. Both of you were smiling like idiots, cheeks hurting from the too-big smiles that adorned your faces. You had a suspicion you somewhat embodied a clown. The super-solider kept his hand wrapped around yours. "Would you like to leave at this moment, or get changed?"

You shook your head, liking the warmth of his touch. "I'm good. Let's leave."

Steve Rogers was a gentleman, that was confirmed by his acts and the influence of being raised right. Despite that fact, he was a savage in the bedroom. Or half the time, out of the bedroom. You had been surprised, yet pleased, when you fell into his bed halfway through the second unofficial date. After that night, Steve finally built the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend—a term he found silly but otherwise a happy milestone.

After years of being friends, Steve was ready to begin the rest of your lives together. No one was surprised, besides you, that he had proposed three months after the first official date. Being head over heels, you excitedly agreed, only to blanch when Tony started a petition to let him plan the wedding with you. Pepper had stopped him.

No one knew what happened the night of Thor's and Tony's party. Though, Steve made a smart choice to ditch it when you both found a floor of the tower littered with blackened metals and slightly burnt walls. The team wouldn't speak of the incident, not that neither you or Steve cared. You had both been too jubilant to interrogate them.

The wedding day came. Steve had been stopped by Thor, failing to sneak into the room you were in. No matter how strong he was, Thor wouldn't allow any bad luck to happen especially after you had lied to him about naming your firstborn after him. Steve tried, and failed, to tell him you weren't going to name his son after the God of Thunder. Bucky was too busy arguing with Sam about the flower decoration to help out Thor.

Dressed in the lavender bridesmaid dress, Natasha burst into the room, a smile adorning her face. She had thanked you multiple times for not dressing her in those ugly dresses she had seen on Pinterest. "You getting cold feet yet?"

"Mine are toasty warm." you mumbled, hands trembling at the thought of declaring your love in front of a crowd. You wondered if it was too late to get ear plugs so no one would hear all the gooey, cheesy vows you would utter to Steve.

"Very convincing." Natasha teased, taking a shot of the wine laid out on the table. Placing the flute down, she eyed the door, prepared to attack Steve if he managed to get away from Thor. "Alright, what're you worried about?"

You bit your lip, messing up the fresh layer of lip gloss Pepper had put on. Glancing out the window, you saw the crowd settling down in there chairs. The anxiety built up inside you. "Um, falling down the aisle. Accidentally saying the wrong name. Messing up in my vows. Dying of embarrassment."

"You'll be great, I promise. No one's going to die. You won't trip because Tony wouldn't let you. You won't say the wrong name because Steve's is practically implanted in your brain and you'll be too busy staring into his ocean blue eyes that you won't mess up. Now, are you still worried?" she asked, laughing when you managed to trip over your wedding dress.

"If anything, Tony's going to purposely trip me." you muttered, tempted to take a swig of some liquid courage, but the fetus in you held you back. The ceremony would start soon, and being too nervous, you hadn't eaten any breakfast. It was probably a good thing considering the nausea you were feeling. Why call it morning sickness when it didn't happen in the morning?

"You're being paranoid, everything will be great." she sighed, turning to the window, staring directly at the green hybrid. The Bruce and Natasha thing was unsurprising but kind of weird, especially with the whole sex thing. You had gagged at the thought of Bruce trying to fit inside of Natasha, and stopped altogether. "I'll be right back, I gotta do something."

She left the room before you could address her, groaning when she left a tiny crack in the door. Natasha knew how much it annoyed you when people left the door open when you originally had it closed. Heaving a sigh, you went to close the door, only to be met by a small force. Steve stuck his head through opening, his worried frown turning into a dazzling grin as he spotted you.

Without a word, he took you in his arms, his hand cupping your cheek as he pressed a quick kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, closing the door behind him as your arms wrapped around his neck.

You pulled away, wiping the lip gloss smeared across his lips. Steve did the same, smirking at his handy work. "Hello, Mrs. Rogers. How do you feel?"

"Like I want to tangle myself around you in every way possible." you whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. Steve chuckled, his thumb drawing small circles on your back. "How about you, Husband?"

"I've been waiting for this day for a very long time. You can't imagine how jovial I am." said Steve. He gave your nose a quick peck, and you giggled. "I know it's suppose to be bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony but I couldn't bear it."

Giggling, you pulled him closer, your lips meeting his neck as you sucked softly at the sensitive skin. "Hmm, I can't wait until I'm officially yours. Do you think we have time for a quickie? It'd really help with my wedding nerves."

Steve laughed, but the sound came out a little breathless. Even with the thickness of the wedding gown, you could feel him on your hip, smirking when he shifted. "While that's a very tempting offer, both Natasha and Pepper would kill me for ripping apart this beautiful dress."

"But Steve—" your whine was cut off by Natasha pulling Steve out of your arms.

The redhead glared at him, pushing him towards the opened door. "You, out, now."

"I'll see you—" Steve began to say, only to be cut off when the door slammed in his face. Natasha turned to turn her death stare on you.

"Look at your makeup. I can't believe he snuck in here with Thor on his ass." Natasha complained, pushing you towards the vanity, quickly applying the tube of lip gloss on your lips. You blinked back the tears as she practically poke your eye with the mascara wand, trying to fix Steve's touch on your slightly smeared mascara. "You look like you're going to puke."

You shook your head, taking a deep breath. "I'm good. Where's Tony?"

"Right here." he answered, entering with a velvet box in his hand. The billionaire set it down on the vanity before eyeing your stance. "Wow, you look ..."

"Like I'm gonna throw up all over Steve's suit?" you finished, panic rising.

"I was going to say gorgeous but now that you mention it, you do look a little green." he teased, earning himself a nudge from Natasha. Tony rubbed his ribs. "If you want to ditch, I have the car running in case you want to make a quick getaway."

You rolled your eyes, wishing you hadn't let him talk you into such a big wedding. All you wished at the moment was to take Steve with you and elope. "Thanks for the offer but I'm good. Let's get this over with."

"And here I thought you weren't romantic." Tony joked, handing you the bouquet of flowers.

Natasha checked her watch, the music audible. Morgan, the flower girl was already walking down the aisle along with Pepper's nephew on her heels. The former assassin opened the door, grinning. "Wait a few seconds before you follow me."

And with that, she walked down the short hall before stepping outside, the aisle was cleared by flowers adorning the sides. Weeping willow branches hung down from the huge tree, creating an illusion of fantasy, the little arch at the end of the aisle was created of leaves and even more colorful flowers. You were surprised no one was sneezing with the amount of pollen.

You took Tony's arm, taking another deep breath. Looking at him, you swore he was a bit proud. He smiled at you. "I hope you know I take full credit for the union of your two souls."

Ignoring his mini jab, you raised an eyebrow. "And how so?"

"There was never a party." he informed, grinning cheekily. He pulled you towards the opened door, walking down the hall. "I made it all up so Rogers would get the balls to finally ask you out."

"Then what the hell happened to the tower?" you asked, confused. People were beginning to stand but your curiosity became more important than your nerves.

Tony winked. "That's for me to know, and for you to dot dot dot."

"God, you're such a nerd." you mumbled, turning your attention ahead as your feet hit the white carpet that moonlighted as the aisle. The nerves began to bubble, and you gripped his arm tighter in fear of falling face first.

The ceremony was a blur, Steve just as nervous as you had been, becoming more and more braver as he spoke his vows. By the end of it, you could barely see him through the tears brimming your eyes. If it wasn't for the waterproof makeup, you were sure you would've cried your face off.

You had just finished your vows when the priest had asked if you would gladly wed the man in front of you for the rest of forever. You whispered a soft "I do."

The priest turned to Steve, the super-soldier happy beyond belief. He asked him the previous question he had asked you. Yet, Steve, being eager, had almost cut him off near the end.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with love and warmth. "I do."

Then everything turned black.

You awoke in the Medbay, needles puncturing your arm, a tube tied to your nose. Every single inch of your skin hurt, your eyelids heavy as you opened your eyes, only to close them once again when the bright fluorescents shone. You felt someone squeeze your hand, a finger brushing along your wrist.

Turning your head, you glance at the person, finding out it was Tony. While he was relieved you were awake, something in his eyes made you believe he wished he had more time to prepare you for the worst. At the moment he uttered those words, you wished your ears had been damaged in whatever hell Hydra had dropped on your wedding.

"Steve's dead."

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes #marvel #captain america #chris evans x reader #chris evans #tony stark #natasha romanov #chris evans imagine #soulmate #soulmate au #ansgt #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #thor #steve rogers fanfiction

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c-e-d-dreamer · 3 years

Note

since you asked for prompts: modern Nessian going to a haunted house?

Thank you for taking pity on my boredom. This was fun to write! When I was in high school, the local haunted house was put on by the community and all the theatre kids worked it, so I decided the same would be true here. Hope you enjoy! :)

Nesta stares down at the bright orange flyer in her hand, the tape from where it was pressed to their front door causing the top to droop slightly under the weight. A pumpkin pattern flows around the edges of the page, and someone has drawn ghosts with a sharpie before the flyer was copied. The lettering is big and bold, clearly trying to give off some sort of spooky vibe. It declares there will be a community haunted house this weekend. How cliche.

“What’s that?” Cassian’s voice interrupts before Nesta can crumble up the flyer to throw away.

“The community is doing some haunted house this year,” she explains.

“Oh, when is it?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“What?”

“Are we in eighth grade? Who goes to a haunted house in their twenties?”

“Scared, sweetheart?”

The smirk tugging up the left side of Cassian’s lips has an unimpressed scowl settling on Nesta’s own face. She knows he’s doing it on purpose, getting under her skin in the way only he can. The only one to worm his way into the gaps between her ribs, to sink into the grooves of her bones. He did it with that same cocky smirk he’s wearing now when they met their freshman year of college. He burrowed deep and decided to never leave.

“Fine. We’ll go Friday.”

~ * * * ~

Friday rolls around, and it’s a near perfect fall evening. The air is cool and a gentle breeze rustles the red and golden leaves that still cling to their home on the tree branches. The sky is a soft indigo awashed with violet clouds as the sun continues to sink below the horizon. Cassian has his arm slung around Nesta’s shoulders, and she presses in close to seep some of his warmth as they make their way through their neighborhood and around the corner to the local park.

Fairy lights have been strung about, and a painted sign with an arrow declares the direction of the entrance. They follow the jack-o-lantern lit path to the ticketing table, paying the five dollars each before waiting for the hay-ride that will apparently be taking them to the haunted house. Nesta recognizes a few of the other people waiting, having seen them when she’s gone to get the mail or when bringing in groceries.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Nesta mutters, as they settle onto the blanket covered hay.

“Technically, I didn’t have to,” Cassian points out, his tone dripping with smugness that leaves Nesta rolling her eyes.

“Next time, I’ll be sure to fight a little harder just to knock your ego down a few pegs.”

Cassian doesn’t respond, but Nesta feels him tense beside her. She turns her head to look at him, eyebrows pinched in confusion, but Cassian’s eyes are glued over the shoulder of the couple sitting opposite them.

“Cassian…” Nesta starts, reaching out a hand to his knee, causing Cassian to jump slightly before snapping his head in her direction.

“Did you see that clown running between the trees?” Cassian whispers.

Nesta has to press her lips together firmly, to keep the huff of laughter buried in her throat, as she takes in Cassian’s wide eyes and the way color seems to have bled away from his cheeks. Something must show in her eyes, though, because an unimpressed frown pulls across Cassian’s face.

“Clowns are terrifying,” Cassian insists.

“Whatever you say,” Nesta offers, patting his knee consolingly.

Cassian opens his mouth like he’s about to say more, but then the hay-ride is pulling to a stop, eerie music from some hidden speaker cutting through the night air. Nesta uses Cassian’s hand for balance as she steps down from the bed of the truck, and then they’re walking up the short front walkway to the haunted house.

“Welcome ladies and gents,” a gangly teenager with zombie makeup greets them at the entrance with a maniacal laugh. He pushes the front door behind him open. “Enter if you dare.”

Nesta can’t help but snort at the over dramatics, but she follows the small crowd inside. The front room is bedecked in fake cobwebs, fake bloodied clothes thrown over the furniture, and spooky pictures with automated eyes that move back and forth hanging on the walls. Cassian’s hand finds hers, calluses sliding against her palm as their fingers tangle together.

They follow the arrows taped onto the floor through a hallway with fake hands sticking out of the walls and knocking against them as they walk. They’re about to turn a corner when another teenager, this time dressed in a raggedly looking doctor’s coat and with fake blood all over him, jumps out and gets in their faces. Cassian practically jumps out of his skin, his arm shooting out reflexively and shoving Nesta back behind him. Nesta swats at his arm at the action and pushes past both him and the teenage doctor. It takes a moment, but then Cassian is falling back into step beside her, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“So now doctors are terrifying too?” Nesta teases.

“I was just startled, not actually scared,” Cassian defends.

The next room has a hole in one of the walls, two more teenagers inside making some sort of ghostly moaning sounds and reaching out toward them. They keep a wide berth of their outstretched arms, heading into the next hallway that’s awashed in a sickly green light. They’re halfway through when a fake spider drops down from the ceiling. Cassian jumps again at the scare, causing them both to stumble back a step, as he throws his free hand up to swat at the fake spider.

“You’re going to break it,” Nesta says with a shake of her head, grabbing Cassian’s hand and pulling him the rest of the way through the hallway.

The next room has a giant cauldron in the middle of it, dry ice rising out of it and onto the floor. Nesta already knows what’s going to happen before the teen jumps out of the cauldron with a screech. Apparently, it’s not as obvious to Cassian, a loud shout tearing from his throat and his grip on Nesta’s hand tightening. Nesta can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of her this time. Who knew she’d be spending her Friday night being the one to comfort her boyfriend through a haunted house. Last time she checked, it’s meant to be the other way around.

The room exits at a set of stairs, and they follow it down into some sort of basement. There’s no lights, just darkness blanketing them from all sides. It leaves Nesta feeling unsettled for the first time all night, and that, paired with the sound of rattling chains that starts to echo around them, has her pressing closer to Cassian. Suddenly, the sound of a chainsaw starts up, causing Nesta to jump. The door behind them flies open, casting light into the basement and on the man in overalls and a mask holding the chainsaw in front of them. Neither Nesta nor Cassian needs any further motivation, and they both scramble out the door and into the fresh night air.

“So,” Cassian starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Next time, we just order takeout and watch a Halloween movie instead, yeah?”

#my fic #acotar #nessian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron #cassian #my local haunted house also did the dark room chainsaw bit #and it truly is terrifying

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chunhua-s · 3 years

Note

Tendou in an enemies to lovers situation 🥺

wew chile, eye— this was longer than i originally planned and that’s due in part to me switching from writing on mobile and my bad word vomit tendencies said ✨start the cameras✨ i originally had a bit of trouble coming up with the solid plot itself while i was losing myself on concepts (nothing new :D just my regular clown shit y’know?) and my sweet goddess @bootylikepeachy was there to tickle my braincells with this “got paired together with your enemy for a class assignment” idea!! bb thank you for brainrotting with me on this, honestly 🥺💖 i dunno if i could have made a final decision if it weren’t for you and your sexy ass brain. i decided leave the ending a bit open?? one to prevent myself from going over 5k words (cause wow, i really hit the slow burn on this one) and two because i kinda like the ambiguity of their relationship after the reader comes to her turning point. since it’s an enemies to lovers type of scenario, i figured it would be better to let things kind of trickle off instead of having it all happen on the same day?? or so it doesn’t feel too rushed or force and i really hope i was successful in doing it justice. i hope you guys will have as much fun reading this as i did writing it!! let me know your thoughts, okay? and as always, thank you for reading!!

SUNSET AND MIDNIGNT ➽ SATORI TENDOU x READER

genre: fluff, slowburn

au: enemies to lovers

warnings: uhhh slowburn? word vomit, ramblings..... that’s about it

tendou is the fall from an ocean cliff. he’s the feeling of the wind sweeping past your body, of your breath disappearing from your lungs and vanishing on the whisps of a blue sky. he’s the dread that wraps around your heart like a vine, the heavy rock that drags you closer and closer to a dive you can’t remember taking. and you, with your heart racing against your ribs so hard that it scars itself with blue and purple bruises, you’re terrified. you’re terrified of heights, of blue waters that run to the deepest parts of the earth and what they don’t show to you. you’re afraid of the heat that comes from a blazing fire and the embers that fly from it on red hazes. it’s the fear of that unpredictability that keeps you away, the fear of being burned and left for dead that leaves you feeling as if you’re walking on egg shells around him.

to you, he’s a variable that you can’t ever be prepared for. a step added to a dance you’d already learned by heart, he messes up your rhythm and throws off your tempo until the melody becomes something you can’t recognize anymore. he leaves you guessing about what comes next — it’s like a game of roulette that he’d dragged you into by a thin chord, wrapped so tightly around your throat that it makes it hard for you to breathe. you hate the feeling of it, hate the way he so easily turned your world on its head and cast the familiarity of monochrome into a scenery of blinding colour.

you’re pouting, a frown etched across your lips as you methodically stir over your pot, head cocked to the side and one hand resting akimbo on your hip. it’d been well over 30 minutes since you’d started boiling the ingredients over a low flame, and you were beginning to tire from stirring constantly; your arm ached and your shoulders were beginning to feel stiff as you tried rolling them to relieve some of the tension. frustration makes a loud groan slip from your lips as you throw your head back. normally, you’d consider yourself a patient person, yet that very same patience was beginning to run as thin as the liquid that should have been thickening by now. you couldn’t understand why it was taking so long, however. you’d done everything by the book! mixed each ingredient in the order that it’d said to, set the flame on the right level, measured everything correctly, so what was wrong?

you hear a snort come from somewhere behind you, but you don’t turn yourself to look at the red-headed male who sits comfortably atop the other side of your counter, well intent to ignoring him. you had neither the time nor the energy to entertain him right now, but your companion didn’t seem to understand that from the cold shoulder you’d been giving him ever since you two began working on your project together.

“you know you don’t have to keep stirring it, right?” tendou hums between bites of chocolate that slightly muffle his words. you don’t see the way his eyes close and his smile widens on delight for the sweet flavour that melts on his tongue. “you can leave it for about a minute before you have to check up on it again.”

you stubbornly roll your eyes, a huff coming from under your breath that disturbs the strand of hair dangling in front of your face. “that’s not what the book says.” your voice comes out evenly, though there’s nothing you do to cut the edge from your tone as you sigh immediately after. the frown on your lips only deepens with the next few seconds that pass you by.

“and that book was released in 2015.”

it’s invasive in its arrival, the question of why that spits on bitterness and undiluted anger. why were you so unlucky to have been paired up with the one person you couldn’t bear to be around? he was everything that dug under your skin, the symbol of chaos in a place where you’d rather solace and routine. he stands on the opposite end of the colour spectrum; where your life molds with deep purples and blues of a dark midnight, he’s the flaming oranges and reds of a burning sunset. your worlds meet on a collision, a burst of light that would consume entire dimensions and leave nothing but bones and ashes in its wake.

there’s a pettiness in your hatred for him, a one-sided scorn that bears its fangs on dark poisons that trip like ink. it tells its tale of irrationality in your law of reason, and, you consider, perhaps that was why you hated tendou. perhaps it was the way his voice could so easily insight the burning taste of anger and annoyance on the back of your tongue, where it forms on a large ball that stops inside your throat and makes it hard to breathe without feeling as if you would implode. it’s something you can’t understand, but you despise the feeling it leaves you with when your eyes meet his.

hot, as if you’d been cast into the open arms of hell.

“well,” you force behind gritted teeth, hearing the noise of them grinding in the back of your head. “i’m gonna stick to what the book says until it gets revised.”

there’s absolutely no reason for you to be so insistent on something that’s clearly not working, you know that. you’re sure tendou is thinking the same, if the long, drawn out sigh he lets out is anything to go by. it isn’t difficult to imagine his expression, lips pursed together, brows furrowed as his narrowed eyes burn holes into your skin. you’re not sure what exactly is pushing you to be so stubborn, but you blindly let it control your thoughts; you run on impulse and immature decisions that have no place in your life.

a silence blends with the sounds of your bubbling pot when he doesn’t respond, insighting an urge to glance around and see why he’d suddenly stopped talking that you force away from your mind. the quiet would give you some semblance of peace, you consider decisively: if he’s decided he would no longer disturb you with pointless musings, then what reason would you have to complain?

there’s a touch on your shoulder that causes your heart to latch inside your throat and rushes on uneven beats of a two-second fright that has you freezing on yourself. on instinct, your body turns to meet red eyes and a bemused grin as tendou’s fingers wrap around your wrist, catching the hand that held the mixing spatula you’d been using in your pot. “relax, will you?” he murmurs, a chuckle on his breath — the taste of his mint breath clouds your mind like a ghostly fragrance — as he pries the instrument from between your clenched fist. with narrowed eyes and your guard put up on a weak barrier, you watch closely as he gently sets the spatula against the counter before he finally releases your arm; it falls lifelessly to your side while the feeling of being burned slowly spreads across your skin. “just trust me on this.”

there’s a hidden promise on his voice, a teasing grin that pulls at his lips and leaves your curiosity ignited on hesitance and uncertainty. you glance at your still bubbling pot, though your gaze isn’t allowed to linger for long as tendou shoves his face into your line of sight with a light chime of “ah-ah-ah.” it was as if he was scolding a child, the thought quickly comes and goes before you can dwell on it — there’s not much chance for you to think about it when tendou’s steering you to your island counter by your shoulders. “sit down for a sec, alright?”

a scowl forms on your lips as he shoves you down into a seat, and you open your mouth to protest when you’re suddenly pacified by the sweet taste on your tongue. slowly, you begin chewing, letting the confusion you feel be washed away by the quickly melting chocolate that fills you with a sense of appreciation.

“better?”

it’s reluctant, but you give the red haired boy a nod and a small smile, all which he returns with his familiar grin. “i set a timer for one minute,” he informs you, lifting his phone screen to show the seconds counting down from 50. his actions are carefree and relaxed, with his arm resting on the edge of the chair and one of his legs folded beneath him, red hair tousled and flopping over his forehead just like he wears it on campus. he’s attractive, you won’t deny, though you wouldn’t let yourself ever say it out loud. helplessly, you sigh, your shoulders dropping to release the tension from standing for so long and you lift a hand to sheepishly run over your neck as you avoid his gaze.

“fine…”

tendou’s smile widens as soon as you relent, a pleased hum leaves him as he further leans back into the chair. “so,” he begins on a cheerful tone, and your eyes curiously watch him as he opens conversation. “what’re your plans after you finish the course?”

a short moment passes you by where you glance away from him, eyes drifting to the pot on your worry. was it really okay to leave it alone? “uh,” you mutter out on your distracted tone before you center yourself. you take a deep breath and let it out on a soft puff that has your cheeks pushing out slightly before you give your answer. “i wanna open up a coffeeshop.”

“oh?” when you meet tendou’s gaze, there’s a spark of interest in them, a sheen of gold that lights vermillion red on the afternoon sun. it causes you to become self-conscious suddenly, your hands tangle together in your lap as you avert your eyes almost as quickly as they’d met his.

“yeah,” you affirm softly. “i’ve always thought that it’d be nice, you know? and i’d be able to relax in a place like that.”

another hum comes from the man next to you, a low sound that dwells on pondering as he takes in your response. “you do seem like the kind of person who would work in a coffeeshop.” he muses, and his word leaves your mind on pause as the alarm goes off, the soft ringing of a song you don’t know disrupting your thoughts and prompting you to stand up. however, there’s a hand on your shoulder that hurriedly pushes you down before you’re at your full height. “no,no—” tendou urges you, “i’ll do it, you just sit there and rest.”

you’re not given the chance to argue as he breezily saunters over to your stove, reaching for the spatula while humming that same song from his alarm. it’s not one you’ve heard before, and it’s another thing that leaves you curious as you watch him stir over the bubbling liquid. you notice the way he holds his hand at a weird angle that leaves his elbow jutting out, the way his tall frame has to hunch as if to see the contents better. doesn’t he wear glasses? you’re lost on the thought as you try and recall whether or not you’d seen him wear a pair before. when he turns back to you, his smile is wide and triumphant, a show of all teeth as he moves himself to the side and just barely tilts the pot with his free hand. “would’ja look at that?” he sings, a telling smugness to his tone as he looks at you. you have to lean over the island counter to see the white liquid has thickened considerably more than when you’d been stirring it. “told you to just let it sit for a while and it’d do it’s own thing!”

unable to help the smile that spreads across your lips, you huff and wave a hand across your face in dismissal, harmlessly rolling your eyes at him. “alright, no need to rub it in now,” you chide as he replaces the pot and skips over to your side, large steps that have him swinging his arms back and forth like an excited child. there’s no hiding the glee in his expression when he sits down again and immediately turns to face you, as if he was waiting for you to admit something. and maybe that’s what he was waiting for, but you’re still stubborn when it comes to him, so you only turn your eyes away from him and cross your arms with a false pout. “just set the timer again, will you?” you grumble, and you’re rewarded with laughter that rang as pure and innocent as the sound of trickling water. it leaves you stunned for a moment, echoes in your mind and finds a home inside your chest so that it plays back for you to hear. it’s a beautiful sound, you think; there’s a part of you that wants to hear more. it horrifies you.

“what about you?” you shake your head as you lean your elbows on top of the counter top, eyes focused on your fingers wrapping around one another rather than to meet vermillion red. the cool feeling of the marble does very little to ease the warmth coursing beneath your skin. “what’re your plans after finishing the course?”

tendou’s laughter dies down like the wind comes to a pause, where the leaves stop rustling on an easy rest as he sighs long and full, his chest rising with the action as he leans backward ever so slightly. “i was thinking of making chocolate,” he tells, tilting his head and lending his gaze to the scenery outside your window. it gives you the courage to look back at him, at the sight of his figure bathed in sunlight where the gold bounces off his skin like a gem. with his expression set on pensive and his eyes bearing a wandering glint, he looks nearly ethereal inside your kitchen, a picture of immortality that you’ve never bothered to look at before now. he glows under a melting light, the picture of him robs you of air and leaves you gasping, desperate for your blood to start flowing the way it had before.

it’s when his eyes find yours that you relearn how to breathe.

his gaze is half-lidded, touched by a visual of content that makes him look at peace, nearly drowsy as his hand supports the weight of his head. the smile on his lips is slight, the kind that quirks the corners of your lips and tells you a story of effortless charm.

“is there any particular reason?” you hate that your voice comes out weak, that it breaks on it’s departure and tumbles out of your lips like white feathers flutter from the sky. the onslaught of emotion leaves you reeling, your center of gravity cast from your body and you struggle to find your footing over uneven ground, all while he watches you, red eyes picking you apart and leaving bear to him the parts of yourself you’ve never seen. a boyish smile settles over his lips as he turns his head to fully face you, leaning forward ever so slightly, but it’s enough so that you’re once again able to taste peppermint on his breath. it washes over your skin like an autumn wind, leaves a chill that reminds you of the first signs of snow on the throws of a mid-summer’s heat.

“not really,” he confesses with a shrug, carefree and unbothered while he leaves you as the perfect image of flustered. his voice is low, like a whisper. it’s hushed, and you’re able to hear something of a sigh on his words that leaves you to wonder about the way the sunlight reflects off of pools of red, how the golden hue makes them appear like the butterscotch candies you’d snack on between classes. “i just… like sweet things.”

“oh.”

you’re reminded of the taste of caramel when you think of tendou. it comes as a surprise when you take the first bite into a chocolate bar, an unexpected drop of golden sweetness that makes you pause for, if only, just a second to properly let its flavour spread across your tongue. he’s the warmth of sunset that embraces your body, the feeling of the waves that brush against your toes, the sand that fills with water and wraps around your feet. you’re left on the shoreline to watch in awe as flames of orange and red dance on the ocean’s surface, where the blazes and embers of a passion unimaginable to your midnight moon leave traces of ethereal gold in its wake.

there’s a sudden thought that invades your mind, slow like molasses and just as bittersweet; you want to sink beneath those burning waters, to let them cover you from head to toe and consume all that you are. until your heart learns his melody and your body falls to his tune.

there’s a part of you that yearns after satori tendou, and the realization if it scares you.

you’re the first to look away when the timer sounds once more, your face burns and you purse your lips together while your hands tangle together on your lap. beside you, tendou arises wordlessly to saunter over to the pot, humming once more to the tune that continues to play from his phone. it doesn’t sound like a typical alarm, and it leaves you intrigued by it’s upbeat melody. “what song is that?” you curse the way your voice breaks, clearing your throat and hoping that he didn’t pick up on it. why were you suddenly becoming such a mess?

tendou answers you a bit distractedly while he tilts the pot from side to side, his head cocked in contemplation and his expression pensive. “it’s called circus,” he glances at you from over his shoulder and uses his free hand to gesture you forward before reaching for the pair of yellow, sunflower-themed muffins you left to sit close-by. “bring the chocolate for me, would’ja?” you meet him just as he’s moving your pot to sit on your counter, the plate of chopped up chocolate bits in your hand while he moves to the side to let you dump them into the mixture. “i found it on this playlist from youtube and i kinda got obsessed with it.”

you take in his words over the light-hearted melody that plays from his phone, enjoying the sound of it before it cuts off and sets to snooze since tendou hadn’t turned it off. it leaves you wanting to hear more, and you wish it would have played on for a little bit longer as you set the plate to the side. “can i look it up?” you ask; the thought that it was silly to ask for his permission rings in your head before you can stop it, and you feel your face heating up when he looks up from mixing the chocolate to you, his eyes alight with amusement and his smile teasing.

“go ahead,” he chuckles, giving his attention back to the pot after casually waving a hand in the air. “mind bringing me the setting tray?”

it doesn’t take you too long to open up the youtube app, your fingers typing in the name of the song before you pause and glance over to your partner. “is it the one by showmore?”

“yup!”

soon, the familiar intro bleeds into your kitchen space, filling up the absence of conversation between you and tendou as he bobs his head along to its sound. you’re left to lean against the counter, your hands folded beneath you while he pours out your chocolate mixture into the little cube shapes in the tray. what you feel is a comfort, a type of quiet happiness that calms your breath on the sound of drums and the piano that blends with the singer’s voice. “it sounds nice,” you mutter quietly, unable to help the way your head nods in time to the melody.

tendou shoots you an excited smile. “it does, right?? i’ve been listening to it nonstop ever since i found it.” his enthusiasm draws a laugh from you, a grin stretches across your face as you watch him sway side to side. it’s an adorable picture of him dancing and smiling so brightly, and when he looks up at you with excitement in his eyes, you feel your heart skip a beat.

“wanna dance?”

“huh?”

the question catches you off guard, leaves you to stare wide-eyed at his back as he pops the tray into the freezer before turning back to face you. his grin widens and becomes almost teasing when he sees your stunned expression. “c’mere!” he urges you with an eagerness, his hand waving you over.

“tendou, i—” you avert your gaze, feeling your skin warm up once more as you murmur your answer. “i can’t dance…”

he makes his way over to you in a sequence of movements you can’t hope to describe — it’s almost like a prance, where his steps are exaggerated and his shoulders lift up in a kind of rocking motion while he’s snapping his fingers to the beat. “that’s fine!” he grins at you just as he reaches out for your hand, pulls you to your feet and coaxes you from behind your island counter. “i can’t either!”

for a moment, you’re caught between amused and hopelessly confused while the man before you lifts your arms like wet spaghetti, letting him swing them between your bodies as if you were a puppet, and he the puppeteer. he’s beaming at you so widely that it’s almost ridiculous, but he seems so vivid and joyous while he maneuvers your limbs, and it causes broad laughter to bubble up from your chest as your body doubles over. it’s a pure, weightless type of laughter that leaves you, like the chiming of bells on the summer wind. it echoes over the music, and when tendou joins in with you, there arises between you both a new kind of song, whose story is found at the evening time when the world holds her breath. it’s a harmony that’s carefree, like the fall from an ocean cliff, like the breath that vanishes from your lungs and cries on laughter beneath the blue sky. it’s the feeling of your fears melting, and when your body finally plunges between those fireset waves, you’re wondering why you were scared in the first place.

“that’s it!!” the excitement in tendou’s voice is infectious, his smile as bright as the sun itself when your fingers intertwine with his and your body finally moves on its own. here begins a dance between you two where he pulls you in closer, and when you pull away, your hands remain intertwined. an irresistible force that you can’t help being drawn to, that spins you around his fingers and wraps you in his arms, all while eyes of the sweetest sunset promise you gold on your midnight sky. the feeling inside your chest is warm, sets through your body like a quiet buzz and it leaves you wanting more, so that the yearning you feel would only ever be satisfied by him.

your hand in his feels like a slow burning flame, and as the both of you are laughing with a song you create with each other, you realize that you’re no longer afraid of its heat.

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @bootylikepeachy @tsumue @waitforitillwritemywayout @mixxfi @shnnn

send an ask to be added or removed!! (also pls lemme know if i’m forgetting anyone? i think i got you all but just in case)

#tendou satori x reader #tendou x reader #tendou x reader fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! spoilers #haikyuu!! au event 💫

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ambiguousdisorderken · 3 years

Text

spn could've given us a haunted theme park/traveling carnival episode;

sam being all icked out about clowns and ringing the bell at the strongman game on his 2nd attempt only to be instantly crushed by eileen who wins with a single strike! sam trying to fit into a bumper car and getting stuck in a corner of the floor for most of the round, which eileen will, for obvious reasons, never let him forget.

and jack oh jack! eating cotton candy and being fascinated but perplexed at the changing texture and the overwhelming sweetness and then he goes and rides the swing ride because 'dad, it looks like they're flying!' but when he's back on the ground he's shook up a little so no one teases him when cas offers the two of them ride the wacky worm while dean goes to buy some food he prays was cooked in a sanitized enough kitchen.

and then it's time for fireworks or something, and dean and cas... they hold hands because the night is chilly and because they can and because they want to. in the middle of the spectacle dean sits up, mutters a 'we'll be back' and drags cas along with him, and it's fresh and riveting, they walk clumsily and stumble, and their steps are light, like walking on air or on bursting bubbles or on evanescent clouds. the kisses are rushed and hungry and they end too quickly but they start just as soon, like jump-starting an overcharged battery.

somehow they manage to make it to the ferris wheel, and the night hangs above them like a satiny curtain splattered with harlequin shimmers, and somewhere below them, amidst the ant-sized crowd there are three people who they'd die for in a heartbeat, one of them being their very own kid, but right now, huddled in the battered red plastic seat it's just the two of them.

'hey there, handsome' dean says, a satisfied grin pulling at the corner of his mouth, as he throws an arm around cas.

'hello dean' cas responds as he always does, as if he knew dean will never tire of hearing it, a lifetime contained in two words, a testimony of cas' love, cas' determination to return to his side despite all the crap dean's put him through.

it makes him a little sick, to remember how he's not always been kind to cas. not even a good friend, or the type of friend cas deserved. dean has loved cas in so many wrong ways for so long, good intentions be damned.

the lump in his throat has an acrid taste.

'dean' the grave pitch of cas' voice fills his ears and wraps around the sudden cavity that his chest has become, but when their gazes meet it's no longer emptiness dean feels within, it's the static of an old record unfurling and playing a sappy tune.

he's here, floating in the kansas night sky inside a huge metallic hazard built half a century ago –with cas.

dean feels a warm pressure against his cheek, then a trickle of gentle kisses that travel to the juncture of his neck. when cas speaks again his head is tucked beneath dean's chin, arms secured around his softened middle.

'it's okay, dean. we're okay'

they've been working on this thing together, on them –coordinating their steps to make it into a steady rhythm, listening to the silence and daring to speak feelings that for too many years were strictly confined to thoughts and longings and stares.

they've both got some bagagge, and dean isn't sure the guilt he feels will ever subside, but it's not about deserving, cas taught him that. it's a choice, and it's one they make every day. what sweet pledge to wake up entangled in love and go to bed unraveled by it.

somehow they've got it right, and cas is right too: they are okay.

jack on the other hand, may have consumed enough cotton candy to warrant a mild case of indigestion. but he'll be okay too, kid's freaking god now.

#someday I'll get back in the saddle and write like a human who attended a formal education #but this was supposed to be a 5line concept #destiel #godddd WE WERE ROBBED #spn #fanfic #my fanfic #destiel fanfic #idk idk guys this could've been something #happynest

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jjoutermaybanks · 4 years

Text

Electric Love || JJ Maybank x Reader

part one part two part three

summary: you’re the newest member of the pogues, a girl living with one foot in the rich life and one foot in the risky life. you fit right in with the crew, especially the charismatic, annoyingly attractive JJ. how will a drunken night of deep conversation and a dreaded summer party change your friendship forever?

word count: 6k

warnings: time to get ~smutty~

(also rubber up kids no glove no love don’t do it like Y/N and JJ)

*not my gif, credit to owner*

PART THREE

The end of the party finally came, after what felt like an eternity of waiting and avoiding JJ. Sarah had to go home with her dad and Rose to celebrate whatever award he’d received, but she swore to meet up with you all tomorrow. Pope claimed the same thing; his dad had wanted him to work the event, not attend, so he felt obligated to spend the night at his own house. Kiara didn’t mind doing whatever, and John B. looked to me to see what I wanted.

“Want to come back to the Chateau with us?” he asked softly, and Kiara nodded in support.

“We can watch a movie and raid John. B’s snack stash.” Her brown eyes were warm and hopeful, and you knew what they were trying to do. By now everyone had heard--or seen, more likely--what JJ had done. He’d flaunted the brunette all night, at one point blatantly making out with her in the middle of the party. Kie had tried to make you feel better by calling him an asshole and swearing she’d kick his ass, but this didn’t really help. You didn’t hate JJ; quite the opposite, in fact. Calling him an asshole didn’t soften the pain, because it only made you remember all the times he wasn’t an asshole. Like when he carried you home after you split your foot open on a rock, or the time when you were miserable after a fight with your mom and he stayed up half the night at the Chateau cracking jokes just to make you smile.

“That sounds amazing,” you conceded, taking a deep breath before adding, “but I can’t. My mom is gonna want to hear all about my night, and more importantly gossip about hers, so...I’ll see you guys later.” Your smile was forced, but after John B. gave you a hug it became more natural. No matter how rocky your relationship was with JJ right now, you knew you had true friends in the other Pogues.

As you made your way through the dwindling crowd, a familiar blonde appeared in front of you. At first JJ didn’t see you, looking around for someone else. And then his eyes landed on you, taking in your broken expression and sagging shoulders. You noticed his undone bow tie, hanging limply by his neck despite the expert job you’d done on it earlier. His hair was messy, and his shirt was almost entirely untucked. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he looked like this, and your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

His jaw set, eyes steeling as they met yours. “Going to find Rafe?” His tone was clipped, a slight smirk twisting his pink lips that dug into your heart like a knife.

You attempted to appear unaffected by him, raising your chin with a blank look. “No, I’m not, actually. Not that you’d believe me either way.” Your fists clenched by your sides as you stood your ground. JJ raised his eyebrows, disguising his reaction with a smirk.

For a second, his lips parted as if to say something. Whatever he was going to say was interrupted by a slender hand snaking around his waist, belonging to the brunette. She was even prettier up close, in a fake tan, perfect teeth kind of way. She gave you a calculating look, causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

JJ cleared his throat, throwing an arm loosely around her shoulder as they breezed right by you. Just as he passed, you caught JJ’s eye; the look he gave you was chilling, his eyes icy and distant. Goosebumps raised on your skin at the sheer frigidity of his demeanor, but you had to push this aside. It didn’t matter, you shouldn’t care so much.

You repeated this mantra all the way home, until you closed the front door behind you and collapsed against the wall. You could hear your mother bustling in the kitchen, surely on cloud nine after tonight. Working up all the energy you had to talk to her, you trudged into the kitchen.

“Y/N! Finally! Wasn’t that just splendid?” Your mother had taken off her gaudy dress and was now in a robe, but still had her hair and makeup done. She looked like a clown, and you knew if JJ were here you two would be laughing about it.

“It was...fine,” you said simply. Honestly, you didn’t even pay attention to the party itself, your thoughts too preoccupied by something else. This didn’t please your mother, however, who then launched into a lecture about how ungrateful you were and that you should show more appreciation for her hard work.

“Look, Mom,” you interrupted after letting her rant and rave for five minutes. “I’m exhausted. Can we fight about this later?” It was no point trying to end the argument; you two were always in a constant combative state. If it wasn’t about the party, it would be about your reckless friends, or your laziness, or the fact that you were never home.

Your mother scoffed. “Fine, avoid confrontation, take the easy way out like you always do. One day you’ll have to take responsibility, you know!” she called after you, but you’d stopped paying attention and slammed the door to your room before she even finished.

The next day you reconvened with the Pogues as planned. Almost all of the Pogues, that is. JJ didn’t show up to your usual meeting place at the dock, and no one had heard from him.

“I wonder where he could be,” Sarah fretted. It wasn’t like JJ to just ghost on you.

Pope rubbed his arm uncomfortably, avoiding your eyes. You could sense he had something to say, and sighed. “Spit it out, Pope.”

He nodded. “It’s just...I think he’s probably with that girl from the party. If I had to take a guess, that is. I could be totally wrong--” He rambled on, trying to soften the blow of an idea you’d already thought of. You knew Pope was probably right. JJ had most likely spent the night with the girl, and he wasn’t the type of guy to just skip out on someone the next morning. You were almost irritated at how chivalrous he was.

“It’s fine, you guys,” you stated, hating how your stupid feelings were affecting the group. “Let’s just move on, alright? What do we have planned for today?”

And it actually was fine, for the most part. Pope needed help fixing his dad’s boat, and so the day was spent working out mechanics and laying around in the sun. Sarah relayed all of the Kook gossip to you and Kie, and it was pretty entertaining hearing about the problems of Outer Banks princesses. Even when the day was winding to a close with no word from JJ, you already felt slightly better. The pain always subsided, it just took a little time. And with the added distance JJ had apparently decided to put between you two, the process would be even easier.

However, after a third day without seeing JJ, you started to worry. Even the other Pogues had started to wonder what had happened to him. It wasn’t like JJ to skip out on all of you, and you knew he valued friendship over everything else. No girl could have changed him this much, no matter how pretty she was.

“At what point do we file a missing person’s report?” you questioned on the fourth afternoon, sitting on the dock beside Pope as he worked on the finishing touches of his dad’s boat. It was just the two of you, so you felt comfortable enough to voice your fears.

Adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes, Pope cast you a doubtful glance. “I don’t think the cops around here would care too much if we said he was missing,” Pope admitted. “I mean, it’s JJ. He’s gotten in so much trouble before they might even be happy he’s AWOL.”

Hearing the harsh words stung your heart, but you knew they were true. Sensing your grimace, Pope sighed, setting down his tools to sit beside you. “I’m sorry, that was mean.”

“Not mean,” you murmured. “Just true.”

Pope was quiet for a while, and you both watched your hazy reflections in the water before you. Your feet swished in the murky depths as thoughts swam around your mind. After a few minutes, he spoke up again. “What exactly went down between you and JJ? Other than the kiss thing with Rafe.” Pope’s question was innocent, and you knew you owed him an explanation. The only problem was you didn’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

Inhaling deeply, you shrugged. “With JJ it’s always been...different. We’re best friends, of course, but sometimes it felt like more. The way he talked to me, the way he looked at me...I knew he wanted something else, but I was too scared to give it to him.”

“Why?” Pope asked you. “This is just me guessing, but I feel like you maybe liked him too.”

You smiled. “It was that obvious, huh?” Your thoughts drifted to JJ, and for the first time in a while you let your true emotions speak. You remembered his bright blue eyes, how you felt when they connected with your gaze. You remembered his charming smile, how it always managed to banish the darkness. Frowning slightly, you responded, “I don’t know why I was scared...maybe because I’ve never had anything serious with anyone before? Maybe I was too worried about ruining our friendship. I had a lot of excuses, but none of them were good enough to ever get rid of the feelings fully.”

Pope nodded along as you spoke, understanding as ever. “That’s how I feel about Kiara,” he told you, surprising you with his honesty. “I’m crazy about her, but I’d hate to ruin what we have now.”

You nudged his shoulder. “You can’t live in fear, Pope. You have to make a move or you’ll never know.” You also knew Kiara would be thrilled if he actually confessed his feelings.

He smiled at you, eyes full of amusement. “Exactly, and that’s what you should do too.” Rolling your eyes at his reverse logic, you chuckled and shook your head.

“You’re right, obviously. I just need to get over myself.” You knew this was the answer all along, but talking with Pope made it that much clearer. The next time you saw JJ, you would confront him, and whatever happened would be worth it because at least you tried.

But you didn’t know when you’d see him next. He’d been gone for so long, it was anybody’s guess when he’d be back. You didn’t know how long you could wait before all of this newfound bravery was gone.

Getting to your feet quickly, you grinned at Pope. “You know what? That’s just what I’m going to do. I’m going to find JJ.”

Standing up as well, Pope furrowed his brows. “Uh, how? No one’s seen him for days.”

Waving your car keys in the air, you said, “I’ll drive around the whole damn island before I give up. He has to be somewhere around here, right?” You let this brief optimism fuel you as you climbed into your car, firing up the engine and rolling down the window to hear Pope.

He leaned his forearms on the door, peering into the car with a skeptical glance. “Look, Y/N, I’m all for you shooting your shot and following your heart. But...if it leads you nowhere, try not to be too devastated, okay?”

You nodded, hoping your smile was convincing enough to soothe Pope’s worries. You heard what he was saying and took it to heart; for all you knew JJ would laugh in your face when you told him how you felt. But you had to try, or you’d live the rest of your life regretting it.

For the next few hours, you drove around the whole island, searching all the usual spots for JJ. He wasn’t anywhere near the docks, he wasn’t hanging out in The Wreck. You drove through The Cut to no avail, even getting out to ask a few locals if they’d seen him. Refusing to give up, you tried Figure 8 next, thinking that maybe he’d been spending his days terrorizing Kooks. But he wasn’t there either, and once you’d searched everywhere imaginable you slowed to a stop on the side of the road, smacking the wheel out of frustration.

Where the hell are you, JJ? Biting your lip and peering out at the empty street, you wracked your brain for any place you’d overlooked. After a minute of thinking, only one place came to mind. It was so obvious you’d figured he would never go there. You also didn’t think he’d want to set foot anywhere near it.

His house.

You’d only been there once, but with all the Pogues there with you. JJ had needed to get something from inside, and the tension in the air when John B. pulled the van up to the run-down shack was suffocating. Your heart had never beat harder than when you were waiting for JJ to reemerge, hopefully unscathed. After a painful twenty minutes, he’d finally come out, but with a few bruises and scratches to show for it.

When he’d slid into the seat beside you, he said nothing about what had happened inside. And you hadn’t asked, either, knowing that wasn’t what he wanted. So you simply leaned your head against his shoulder, praying that he knew you were there for him. His only reaction to this had been to kiss the top of your head, and that was all you needed to know he understood.

Now, the thought of going back there terrified you. It was truly the last possible option, and you knew you had to check it before giving up on your mission. But the thought of going to that place where so much hurt had occurred...you almost prayed not to find JJ, because that meant he was safe from his father.

Hands shaking as you drove, you tried to compose your breathing. It was a short drive, too short for the amount of mental preparation needed. You parked the car and turned it off, staring out at the seemingly quiet exterior of the house. Appearances were deceiving, though; you knew the horrors that took place behind those walls.

Sucking in a breath, you forced the door open and began to walk towards the house. No point in dawdling, you had a job to do. But as you came closer and closer, you began to hear something. It was a sound you’d seldom heard before, but one that haunted your sleep for weeks on end.

It was the sound of JJ screaming.

Automatically you froze, your entire body immobilized by his voice. Along with his voice was another, a man’s, yelling just as loud. There was a harsh crack, followed by a deep thump that made you flinch. Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, and terror overtook your body.

All of a sudden the front door flung open. The shouts were clearer now, and you glimpsed JJ wrestling out of someone’s grip. His blonde hair was stained with something, his ripped tank top smeared as well. Your heart sank when you realized it was fresh red blood.

JJ’s grunts echoed in your ears as he fought, and the sound of a fist cracking against someone’s face made your eyes shut tight. But they quickly reopened when his father hollered angrily, and you saw JJ rushing towards you.

“Y/N?!” he cried, completely stupefied that you were here. Struggling to form words, you felt your eyes well with tears. But JJ didn’t stop to console you, instead grabbed your arm and ripped you back. It was then you saw his father barreling out the door as well, pure malice in his black eyes.

Slamming into your car, you fumbled with the door and held your breath as JJ collapsed into the passenger seat. “Fucking drive!” he snapped, and you didn’t hesitate before flooring the gas and sending the car jerking into motion. JJ’s father stumbled to the ground, and you watched his figure recede in the rearview mirror.

Gripping the wheel so tight your knuckles were white, you swallowed hard before risking a glance at JJ. If you were stunned before, this was a whole new level of shock. Not only was his shirt and hair stained with blood, but it was dripping from a deep gash in his forehead and cut in his lip. Purple bruises dotted his face, and one of his eyes was a gruesome black color.

You took a shaky breath, swerving accidentally as your shell shock distracted you. JJ immediately lunged to grab the wheel, and the car lurched violently as you hit the brakes.

“What the fuck?” he demanded, eyes hooded with anger as he glared at you. “Can you drive?”

You couldn’t speak, your heart hammering too loudly to think straight. JJ saw the pure fear in your eyes, and instantly softened, his tense shoulders slackening as he pushed his matted hair off his face.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring out at the road in front of you. “What the fuck were you doing at my house?” His tone was a mixture of anger and genuine concern, and it took everything in you not to cry.

“I-I was looking for you,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “You disappeared, and I...I missed you.”

JJ’s face flashed with anguish for a brief second, before he heaved a sigh. “You know the shit that happens at my house,” he said quietly. “What if you’d...what if you got hurt?”

Sniffling, you twisted in the seat to face him. “I don’t care, I had to see you--”

“I care, dammit! I fucking care if you get hurt or not,” he retorted angrily. You shrank back at the hostility in his tone, and when he saw your reaction JJ pressed a hand to his face. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to yell, it’s just...” His glazed over, as if with tears. “If anything had happened to you back there, if my dad had even laid a hand on you--”

Reaching out to touch his shoulder, you shook your head quickly. “But he didn’t, I’m fine.” When he didn’t look at you, you leaned closer and tried to meet his gaze. Finally he conceded, and watery blue eyes met yours. “Let me take you somewhere,” you begged. “You need to be cleaned up, see if you should go to the hospital.”

JJ tensed. “I’m not going to any damn hospital, Y/N.”

Worried he’d get angry again, you rubbed his arm soothingly and smiled. “Okay, no hospital. Just please let me take care of you?” JJ leaned back against the seat, struggling to breathe normally. After a second, he finally nodded, and you started up the car.

Thankfully your mother had chosen this week to go out of town. It had been nice having the house to yourself, and now especially you were grateful to be alone when you walked through the front door. Holding JJ’s hand, you led him upstairs into the bathroom and had him lean against the counter.

Finding what little first-aid materials you had, you joined him in the bathroom and shut the door. Rifling through the box you found only a couple band-aids and some disinfectant. Biting your lip, you grabbed a washcloth and wet it in the sink. JJ watched your actions closely, arms folded in a guarded position to protect himself. Your heart ached at the thought of him in pain, and you had to force tears out of your eyes a few times.

“Look at me,” you instructed softly, trying to compose yourself when his blue eyes turned to you. You focused on his cuts, gently touching the wet washcloth to the wounds. JJ winced when you made contact, and you placed a hand on his thigh to calm him down. Working slowly and methodically, you cleared off most of the blood from his face, still horrified by the purple bruises that remained on the skin.

A particularly deep cut on his eyebrow refused to stop bleeding, and you moved to press the washcloth to the wound. But JJ resisted, ducking away from you.

“You don’t need to clean me up like a child, Y/N,” he growled, making you press your lips together in a thin line.

“I’m not,” you answered plainly. “Please, just hold still.” He complied, and you pressed the cloth to his eyebrow. JJ hissed at the pain, and you held back a grimace. The thought of you hurting him devastated you, but you also knew he needed to be cleaned up.

JJ was refusing to meet your eyes at this point, anger practically rolling off of him. It was hard to breathe in such a small space, and you found yourself getting lightheaded after a while. When JJ’s eyebrow stopped bleeding, you decided it was time to move on.

“Okay, take your shirt off.” You needed to inspect the bruises there to make sure he didn’t have a broken rib or internal bleed.

But JJ wasn’t having it, and he jumped off the counter. “No way, we’re done here. I’ve got shit to do.” He went to leave, but you grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Wait, please!” He stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Please, JJ. Let me help you. I just...I want to know what happened, and what I can do to make it better.”

Finally he faced you again. A thousand emotions sparked behind his eyes, and he clenched his teeth to fight off emotion. “Why? Why do you care?”

Parting your lips, you said, “Because you’re my best friend.”

He winced, and panic flared in your chest. “Best friends,” he echoed, sounding hollow and uncaring.

Panic flared in your chest, and you grabbed his hands. “More than best friends, JJ. I--” You didn’t know how to finish that statement. You knew how you felt, but you didn’t know if you could handle rejection right now. JJ’s expression changed when he heard you start speaking, but when you stuttered his brow lowered over his eyes.

“You kissed Rafe, Y/N,” he reminded you, causing you to sigh.

“I didn’t,” you forced, hoping he actually understood. “I know what it looked like, but I promise you, I did not want to kiss him.”

A few seconds passed, his expression still furious. “You mean that bastard kissed you without permission?” At your slight nod, he huffed. “I’m gonna kill him with my bare hands--”

“No, no, JJ!” you quickly interrupted, stepping closer so you could press your hands to his chest. “Don’t kill anyone, not for me.”

Gazing down at you, he lifted a hand to rest on the side of your neck, igniting sparks where his fingers fell. “For you, I’d do anything,” he whispered, and your heart flipped.

But then you frowned. “What about the girl from the party? The Kook?” It hurt just to mention her, and the guilt that flashed across JJ’s face only hurt you more.

“She was...nothing. She meant nothing,” he explained, willing you to understand with his eyes. “I don’t even know what I was thinking.” His hand on your neck moved up to wipe a stray tear off your cheek. “The whole time I was with her I was...thinking of someone else.”

Your heart stopped beating. “S-someone else?” There was no oxygen left in the room at this point.

JJ brought another hand over so he was cradling your face, looking deeper into your eyes than he ever had before.

“You.”

Once the word left his mouth that was it. You grabbed his neck and pulled him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the fervor you’d had stored up in you for weeks.

After imagining this very moment for so long, you couldn’t believe how good it felt. JJ’s lips fit yours like a glove, and the taste was something you would never get over. He was warm and firm in all the right places, and his body reacted to yours like you’d been in sync for your whole life.

You were careful to avoid his injuries, your hands gentle on his chest and your mouth light by his busted lip. Despite how delicate he was in this moment, JJ didn’t let this inhibit his passion as he kissed you with a wild vigor.

His fingers wound through your hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a moan from your throat. The sound must have turned him on, because JJ exhaled deeply. His teeth grazed your lower lip, biting down gently as his hands pulled at your hair again. His back was up against the door, and your hand slithered out to grab the handle.

A smirk played across his mouth as you stumbled into the hallway. “Going somewhere?” he murmured into your ear, breath washing over the shell causing you to shiver.

“Trying to find a bed,” you purred, and his eyes darkened at the words. You pushed him towards your bedroom, closing the door behind you as he fell back onto the bed. You wasted no time in straddling his hips, legs on either side of his thighs as you kissed his lips fervently.

Disconnecting your mouths for a brief second, you pulled your shit over your head, tossing it onto the floor and gazing down at JJ as he took in your bare chest. His hands slowly slid up your torso, igniting fire where his fingers touched, until he reached your breasts and you sucked in a breath. He kneaded your breasts, thumb swiping over your hardening nipples. JJ leaned up to press his lips to your skin, swirling his tongue around your nipple and making more moans of pleasure echo through the room.

“JJ,” you whined as you felt his teeth on your sensitive bud, hands wrapped in his blond locks. As he focused on your chest you expertly slid off your shorts, panties going along with them, and settled with your exposed core on his thigh. He felt your heat there and growled, the sound low and sexy in his throat. You kissed up his neck until you found a sweet spot that had his hips bucking, and as you nibbled at his sensitive skin you began to grind against his thigh.

“Holy shit--” he stuttered, hand skimming down your naked back to guide your hips. You giggled into his collarbone, swiping your tongue across his glistening skin.

Tired of the layers still shielding his body from you, you sat back and started lifting his shirt. Once the fabric was tossed onto the floor, you glanced down and gasped at what you saw.

If the bruises on his face were bad, the ones on his body were a hundred times worse. They were huge and the deepest purple color you’d ever seen, littering his ribcage and abdomen. You could practically feel them aching just by looking at them, and suddenly you were afraid to touch him.

JJ sensed the horror you felt, and shifted so he was leaning back on his elbows. “Y/N,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m fine, please don’t cry.” But you couldn’t help the tears flowing in your eyes. You couldn’t imagine how someone--how his own father--could do this. How could one person inflict so much damage, and on someone so pure and good? Your entire body ached for JJ, and for the little boy who never knew love from his own dad.

You felt his hand on your cheek, and you melted into his touch. Sniffling, your lower lip trembled as you slowly came forward, hovering above his torso. And then, with the lightest of touches, you kissed his bruises. Your lips were feather-light against his damaged skin, careful not to hurt him as you moved across his ribs. JJ’s breathing was shaky as your fingers ghosted across the bruises, trying to heal him with your loving touch.

Once you’d finished kissing each one, you brought your lips to his. This kiss was different than the one before; it was soft, and full of so much emotion you could barely contain it. JJ held you close to him despite the bruises, and you craved his touch just the same.

Foreheads tilting together, your eyes met in the darkness. “Y/N,” he began, threading through your hair and stroking down your neck. Anticipation for his next words nearly killed you as you held his gaze.

“I love you.”

A tearful smile breaking out across your face, you chuckled and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I love you too, JJ.”

That was all it took to reignite the heated passion from before. All gentleness from your moment with his bruises was gone, replaced by an intense desire for one another. JJ flipped you over so he was on top of you, and you bit your lip as you watched him slide off his shorts. His cock sprang free from the restrictions of his boxers, hard and stiff as it slid against your thigh.

Reaching a hand out, you gripped his shaft and earned a hiss from JJ. When your hand started moving up and down, his breathing all but stopped, eyes shutting as he let the pleasure take over. Your hand worked slowly but expertly, fingers working his swollen tip and collecting the precum there. Your thumb circled his slit, and this caused JJ to jerk in your hand.

“Ah, fuck,” he groaned, giving you a sloppy kiss. “You better stop doing that or this is gonna be over real quick.” Smiling devilishly, you met his lips in a feverish kiss and let go off his cock. Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and surely leaving marks.

JJ’s hand drifted down your abdomen, nearing the place you were desperately aching for him. When his index finger dragged up your core, you suppressed a moan and rolled your eyes back, feeling bliss explode in your stomach. He traced your entrance carefully, teasing your folds in a way that made your thighs shake.

Sensing you were holding back, JJ kissed your neck and instructed, “Moan for me, baby.” His seductive tone was too much for you, and a string of moans left your lips. His finger finally dipped into you, curling against your walls and spreading heat through your body. JJ’s movements were intoxicating, and he knew just where to touch you and how to do it. His thumb pressed against your clit, making you cry out, and then he circled the bundle of nerves. The stimulation was overwhelming, and your hands fisted the sheets to try to hold you to reality.

JJ added another finger inside of you, pumping faster now. In combination with his thumb on your clit, you knew you were done for when the tight ball in your abdomen exploded into a million sparks. Your orgasm fizzled through your nerves, and your cries became louder as they pierced the quiet air.

“God, JJ,” you breathed, gripping his shoulder for support. He grinned above you, shifting his hips so they aligned with yours. You felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance, sliding through the slick folds and running over your clit.

“Are you ready?” he asked you quietly, hand affectionately running through your hair before resting on your cheek. You leaned into him, nodding with the smallest of smiles on your face.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t hesitate. With one swift motion, JJ pushed inside of you. The initial stretch nearly took your breath away, and it took a minute to adjust to his size. He filled you up entirely, hitting every sensitive spot you had. The stretch was deliciously searing, and as he began to move inside of you the feeling only intensified.

“You’re so tight,” JJ moaned, his thrusts slow and controlled. His hair fell over his eyes, lips parted in concentration. He looked strikingly beautiful in this moment, and you couldn’t believe he was actually yours.

You rested your hands above your head, and felt JJ wrap his fingers between yours. It was an intimate gesture that made your heart swoon, and you molded your lips against his with every emotion flooding between you.

His thrusts eventually picked up, and he hit even deeper inside of you. “JJ,” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He grunted, using one hand to massage your breast. “Say my name again, Y/N,” he ordered, and you were glad to comply.

“JJ,” you moaned, arching your back while his hips rolled into you. “You feel so good, baby.”

“Fuck,” JJ swore, falling on top of you a little. He only had one arm to support his weight, and he used all of his energy to quicken his pace. His cock slammed deeper and deeper until you felt his balls slap against your skin, and when he hit a particularly good spot you saw stars dance across your vision.

“I’m close,” you panted, bringing a hand down to rub your clit. JJ let out a series of curses at this, clearly frenzied by your self-pleasuring. Your finger played with your clit as he pushed into you, lips brushing yours in a lazy kiss as the euphoria began to take over.

Your second orgasm was building to the breaking point, and with one last stroke you were done for. A second round of fireworks went off inside of you, and your walls instinctively clenched around JJ’s cock. He let out a loud groan at this, clearly close to finishing as well. He thrust a few more times before finally pulling out, a spurt of white liquid flying out onto your stomach.

Senses blurred by pleasure, you reached out to grab his cock and work him down from his high. JJ’s moans echoed in your ears, his voice like a beautiful symphony you’d replay over and over. When you could finally breathe steadily again, you placed your hands above your head, just soaking in the euphoric after-effects of the orgasm.

JJ reached out onto the floor and grabbed his shirt, using it to clean up your skin. He smiled down at you, blue eyes sparkling with residual lust and something else. Love.

Collapsing beside you, JJ pulled the blankets up to cover your naked bodies, cocooning you in warmth and privacy. In this moment, you were the only two people on earth. When he looked at you, it was like nothing else in the universe existed. You shifted forward until your foreheads were pressed together, breathing in each other’s scent.

JJ’s fingers lazily brushed across your cheek, and you pursed your lips to kiss the tip of his nose. He smiled at this, throwing a hand over your waist to haul your body into his. Now you were pressed together in every way, chest to chest and heart to heart.

He studied your eyes, looking straight into your soul. “I love you,” he said again, almost like a reminder. As if you could ever forget he said those amazing words.

“I love you,” you answered, grinning softly. JJ chuckled, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He said it again, making you laugh. So you said it again, and again and again. You would never stop telling him you loved him, and neither would he.

He was yours and you were his; finally.

#outer banks #obx #pope outer banks #pope obx #john b #john b outer banks #john b obx #kiara outer banks #kiara obx #sarah outer banks #sarah obx #jj maybank #jj outer banks #jj obx #jj one shot #jj mayback x reader #jj smut #obx smut #outer banks smut

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bubbletimestories · 3 years

Text

Bosom bonus chapter (Destiel fic I guess)

Hello !

This fic is a bonus chapter of Bosom that you can find here if you want ^^

I lost the chapter long ago and had to write it again so it's not very polished but it's cute <3 I hope you're gonna like it.

Themes : pregnancy, hypnosis, mention of blood, Destiel, love, family, desire, fatherhood, Dean and Castiel becoming a real non-platonic family

Little summary of Bosom : Sam and Dean went into a village where men fell pregnant of little girls growing fast, parasites that provoke a huge love and protective instinct in the father and everybody around. The brothers have left the town but Dean is possibly pregnant.

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(On the road again)

The two brothers set off again on the roads, as they always did, without a specific destination except for adventure. This sentence was very cliché, but I keep it. This little break had been most enjoyable, but now it was time to go back in search of new monsters to kill, new threats to contain. Except that a new case doesn't appear every day.

Sat in the passenger seat, Sam was bored like a dead rat. He watched the landscape go by, a perpetual succession of trees, while thinking that by dint of being stuck with the same person and the same old rock tapes, he was going to go mad eventually. It was probably the nicest option available to him, anyway. It was always better than "dead in excruciating pain", "tortured by Lucifer" or "employed in a fast food restaurant whose mascot is a clown". All in these gloomy thoughts, however, the hunter noticed an incongruous detail: since the time they had been running on the roads, Dean had not yet been speeding. He who was so inclined to make the Impala's engine roar had been very reasonable since leaving the small town. It was both surprising and ... appreciable. But the young man didn't really have time to think about it, because one of the many cellphones started ringing, a sign that they were about to resume service. A few sentences later, they were on their way to a new investigation, such as Scooby-Doo and his faithful companion in the green t-shirt.

- Pee break!

Dean braked hard without warning, his brother almost crashing into the dashboard and choking off a slew of curses as he straightened up. The driver had already gone into the thickets, holding back from laughing, for he had, of course, been looting on purpose. He wouldn't really be him if he didn't play pranks on his dear Sammy. So it was very proud of himself that he settled down behind a bush to… relieve more than his conscience. Knowing full well that his brother would look away in embarrassment, the young man began to hiss pointedly while slowly lifting the edge of his t-shirt. Knowing that he was out of sight, the Winchester finally took the time to examine the slight bulge in his abdomen, smiling as he saw a small glow appear on the surface.

- You are the weirdest food poisoning I've ever seen.

It had been two days since he realized something was wrong and it was already very late compared to other fathers. But come to think of it, Dean's body had gone through so many states (human, vampire, demon) that it took so much more for his body to panic. And then he'd come back from the dead so many times that he wasn't sure he was quite human anymore. Regardless, the hunter wasn't overly worried about not being alone, but he made sure Sam didn't know. It was his little secret.

After putting his belt back on, the young man got back into the car and turned to his brother with a big smile before throwing himself on him, putting his hands on his cheeks.

- A little hug Sammy? - DEAN! You're disgusting, you haven't even washed your hands! - We share everything, brother.

The younger man's insults responded to the older laughter, and a few hours later they arrived in front of an old, dark wooden building as night fell on the horizon. A hunter was waiting for them, anonymous since he will likely die in the fight, and quickly informed them that he had wanted to face the bloodthirsty ghost lurking in the house alone, but had not succeeded. The ghost's body was hidden in one of the walls so they were going to have to play with mace to be able to burn that bastard. As usual, Sam let the other two chat while he got the materials ready, did the final research needed, before jumping into the mouth of the wolf. Ammunition loaded with salt, lighter, iron bar, it was necessary to prepare for all eventualities. Finally, they made their way inside the dark building, their heavy boots cracking the blackish floor.

- We'll take care of the first floor. Sammy, go and inspect the second, we'll go faster.

With a nod, the hunters agreed and parted, soon rattling their hammers against the walls, tearing the silence of the night. They only had a short time before the entity that haunted these places manifested itself, which is why they busied themselves as best they could, sweat soon running down their backs. As Dean wiggled his arms made hard by the effort, he noticed a gaunt form appearing a few feet away from him, that of a black-toothed man staring at him, stroking the handle of a long razor. That's it, the hunt could begin in earnest. Without waiting, the Winchester raised his weapon and fired without taking the time to aim, showing absolutely no fear at the grimacing specter. The first bullet missed its mark, but the second hit the apparition in the head and he disappeared with a furious cry, alas for a short time. It was necessary to move faster, to search every corner in search of the corpse. Sam must have been alerted by the gunshots, his brother raised his voice to tell him that everything was fine, but the movement needed to be speeded up.

One by one, the partitions were gutted, revealing themselves empty as time went on. Fatigue began to win over the hunters who hit with less regularity. Through his plaid shirt, the eldest Winchester brushed his stomach for a brief moment, time to catch his breath. He did not notice until too late the drop in temperature which formed a thick mist as it left his lips and when he turned, it was to meet the perverse gaze of the phantom who was advancing quietly, his long blade outstretched towards the young man.

- And shit ...

Far from being paralyzed with fear, Dean raised his weapon and tried to shoot the murderous specter again, but the latter was faster, the razor cutting through the air to bite into the shirt and especially the young man's hand who stepped back, hitting the bulkhead. A mad laugh rose in the throat of the dead man whose dark eyes sparkled with bloodthirsty madness. Disarmed, his adversary now appeared to him as a prey, a superb victim to be cut up. The latter knew he was cornered and could not think of anything other than his imminent death. What was going to become of his baby? The young man suddenly felt his insides twist and he fell to his knees uncomprehendingly, his mind brutally clouded with pain as the ghost's blade left a deep mark in the wall where the Winchester was.

His partner, whose name doesn't matter, had witnessed the whole scene without really deciding what to do. But the moment Dean narrowly dodged, the anonymous felt a fierce conviction set his brain ablaze, permeating his bones with unheard-of strength that screamed "save him." Save him ”. He knew then exactly what to do, the solution was now crystal clear and he walked up to the specter without a hint of fear. There was no room for fear in his head, only the deep, overwhelming desire to protect the kneeling man and what he was wearing. He rushed at the ghost, an iron bar wielded in his clenched fist like a modern version of Braveheart.

Blood splashed on Dean's shoes as the pain in his guts disappeared, which finally brought him back to reality. He had time to make out the specter before it vanished and a body collapsed heavily on the rotten floor. From the slit throat a scarlet stream escaped, but the hunter's face expressed a proud serenity, as if he had accomplished his mission and died fulfilled. Called upon by screams, Sam ran down the stairs to find the gruesome spectacle. Fortunately, his brother was unharmed, though deeply shocked. He helped him up, being careful not to slip into the pool of blood, two bodies were expected to be burned that night, but they had no time to feel sorry for themselves.

- I couldn't find anything up there and neither can you, it must be in the cellar. - A corpse stashed in the basement, it's so obvious that I wonder why we didn't think about it earlier.

It was with these common sense words that the Winchesters descended into the foundations of the old building to find the corpse and end the grueling night. Turning their backs, they resumed their masses to shatter the plaster of the walls, raising clouds of dust making them cough, stinging their eyes. In the opaque atmosphere soon looms the murderous specter, his livid face completely distorted with hatred and thirst for blood. Rather than stealthily approach to slaughter the hunters, the ghost let out a hoarse cry that caught the attention of its attackers.

"Keep looking, I'll take care of him," Sam cried, brandishing his hammer with one hand, the other firmly grasping a gun loaded with salt.

The iron end of the sledgehammer sliced through the air, but did not touch the apparition, which encouraged the younger hunter to increase his efforts. Although he didn’t yet know where his desire to protect his brother really came from, Sam already had enough of the motivation between brotherly love and the survival instinct. In his back, the beatings had resumed, made more frequent by the situation of ambient stress. The specter's attention kept returning to Dean for some obscure reason, and the other hunter took the opportunity to empty his magazine, causing the attacker to disappear until he was without ammunition.

- Dean! - I'm almost there !

The mass slammed down into yet another wall which revealed a piece of yellowish skull, they were finally nearing their mark. Without bothering to dig out the bones any more, Dean sprinkled them with oil and salt before setting them on fire. The ghost let out a final angry howl before being consumed, calm falling abruptly as the cry of rage still echoed in the ears of the Winchesters. They had won. Yet good humor did not light up their dust-blackened features, for they had yet another body to remove. So it wasn't until early morning that they were able to lean against the Impala to catch their breath, their faces drawn with fatigue.

- Let's go back to sleep, I'm exhausted. - Who are you saying that to…

As always, they had to wash their faces, find a motel to be able to collapse on one of the shabby beds smelling musty but since the time they walked the roads, the boys would probably have had more trouble sleeping. in sheets scented with lavender. Exhausted, Dean sat down to remove his shoes without thinking about the condition of his clothes, a precaution that wouldn't have been wasted judging by his brother's surprised look. Without him explaining it yet, it seemed to the tallest of the Winchesters that a faint glow emanated from the torn shirt. Driven by curiosity, he walked over and parted the fabric to reveal the terrible secret of his elder brother who put his hands on his abdomen, reflexively.

- I can explain everything, Sammy, you see ... - How long have you known?

Instead of his usual disapproving look, Sam's face lit up in surprise as he brushed the slight bump where a unique treasure lurked. Embarrassed, the father-to-be whispered half-heartedly that he must have been pregnant for five days. Five days ... and he hadn't realized it! To say that his brother received such a gift ... it was more luck than they had had in the past ten years and yet they had experienced miracles. The long-haired giant looked up at Dean jokingly.

- Hopefully not all of your children are bloodthirsty monsters.

Somewhat reassured by the reaction of his younger brother, the young man softened and they went to bed in a good mood after this perilous mission. Once rested, they decided to go for something to eat, on the one hand because eating is a vital need, on the other hand to celebrate Dean's pregnancy. Sitting on a tired bench, the latter consulted the menu with the utmost seriousness until a waitress came to take the order.

- The daily special for me, please. Dean, a big burger? - Yes, I'm ravenously hungry ... Although no, the salad. Or the burger? I crave a burger badly, I could devour eight of them, with big fries, but I still have to take care of my body and my health and the salad seems like a much healthier choice, especially now. But I really want meat and cheese, something fatty. I do not know what to choose !

With disconcerting rapidity, the hunter sank into a deep anguish to burst into tears under the stunned gaze of the waitress who did not know at all what to do or what to say. Even Sam, who was always quick to invent an excuse to get them out of any situation, was dumbfounded by such a spectacle. He eventually recovered and mumbled that his brother would have a burger with green salad, giving the waitress the opportunity to run away without asking for her rest. Dean calmed down as quickly as he had panicked and the rest of the meal went off normally, if we omit the curious looks around.

In the days that followed, the two boys decided it was best for the future dad to rest in the bunker until the end of his pregnancy, the life he usually led was not at all suitable. Even if that meant that Sam was going on a mission alone, it didn't bother the giant who kept giving news regularly. Eight or ten days after their departure from the village, the eldest brother received a visit from his dearest friend, the angel Castiel, who was obviously not up to date with the latest news. Knowing the angel's anxious nature, Dean preferred to remain silent and chat as if nothing had happened, not without admiring the shy but sincere face of the brunette. Castiel spoke with his usual seriousness about Heaven, about what was going on in the supernatural world and then, shyly dodging the hunter's gaze, he pulled a box out of a large plastic bag.

- I brought some pie, I thought you'd like it.

Indeed, the sight of the delicious pastry covered with shiny cherries was enough to make your mouth water, the young man had not eaten pie for weeks and he had to contain himself with great difficulty not to swallow it up. Still, he wasn't the only one who enjoyed the dessert and after a few bites, the little being in his belly began to express its enthusiasm by stirring. Nothing to do with the delicate brushing of human fetuses, it bounces with the force of a rubber ball, snatching an exclamation from his father. He couldn't deny it, either for appetite or discretion, Dean laughed helplessly, all the more so when he saw his friend's incomprehension.

- The baby is a big pie lover, too, and she thanks you, I think.

Illustrating his words, he lifted his shirt to reveal his rounded and shiny stomach, still all smiles as if after a good joke. Castiel, on the other hand, wasn't laughing at all. Instead, he jumped up, staring at the bump as if it were the Devil himself. He had never heard of such a phenomenon, and his default mechanism was fear. Coming into something he didn't know was new enough that the angel panicked.

- Dean, what happened to you? What's in your stomach? - It's called a baby, Gabriel must have mentioned it to you in passing.

The joke had no effect on the divine being who continued to stare at the stomach with fear and anger, too powerful to be subjected to the influence exerted by these creatures around. Obviously, Dean was not in his normal state, he harbored a dangerous parasite and it would inevitably end in chaos and death. Feverish, Castiel explained his point of view, encountering the jovial relaxation of the hunter who suspected that the news would be difficult to swallow. He let the angel pour holy water on his abdomen, squeeze a silver blade there, recite a few words in strange languages. Then, he took advantage that his friend was kneeling in front of him to take his face in his hands.

- You think too much, you didn't even congratulate me. - Now is not the time to laugh, Dean, this thing is growing, probably at full speed, we don't have time to ...

Castiel's warning was cut short, muffled under a teasing kiss that stirred the celestial entity to his depths, annihilating his thoughts in a breath, a squeeze. The shock paralyzed him and the hunter took the opportunity to prolong the embrace of their lips as long as possible before pulling back as if nothing had happened, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. The poor angel was completely confused, unable to continue to be worried or angry. So he vowed to watch Dean to monitor the progress of this pregnancy and find out whether or not he was right to take a dim view of it. As he left the bunker that day, he couldn't help but bring his hand to his lips, still feeling the heat on his mouth, the heady sensation of the kiss. He was to learn later that the new condition of Winchester made him very… affectionate. The hugs, the teasing looks sure made the angel blush from ear to ear, but it was nothing compared to the fit of madness when the belly started to draw more strongly. Grateful to his mate for bringing him fries, Dean threw himself on his neck without warning, a move to which the prudish and delicate Castiel did not know how to respond other than by awkwardly pulling away. The hunter concluded that he was undesirable, too bloated for the angel to look at him, and sulked in his room for long hours.

That put aside, Dean enjoyed the quietness of the bunker to go about his business and marveled more and more every day at the evolution of his body and of what was inside. He who had taken so long to realize the treasure he was carrying could only think of that, walking barefoot through the silent halls talking to his child. Besides, he was far from being a carrier father like the others, he was much stronger, much richer than ordinary humans and the entity at the center of his life could only be special too. Imperceptibly, the two beings changed, sublimated with each heartbeat, to achieve a degree of perfection that the first goddess would never have hoped for for her kind.

One day like any other, Castiel arrived for a visit and the hunter almost ran up to jump into the arms of his friend who was still very surprised (and moved) by this sign of affection so spontaneous. Hris blue pupils rested on the body with shapes hardly concealed by a loose shirt buttoned up to the collar, the radiant face, the sparkling eyes, the smiling and sublime mouth... There emanated from all his being a warm joy which finished disturbing the angel with a too human heart. Although what he felt did not depend on the fetal pheromones, he harbored a deep desire to stay with the Winchester, for all eternity.

- If you only knew how happy I am to see you ...

Dean approached his friend and put a hand on his cheek before capturing his lips in a kiss that softened to hot, catching the breath of the young man who felt himself respond to the hug, his own hand sliding behind the masculine back so as not to let him slip away. When he felt the tip of a tongue tickle his mouth, Castiel was electrified, but just as he was about to indulge himself a little more, the tasty lips parted from his. A stifled protest escaped him and he remained petrified, still vibrating from this intimate and far too short exchange. The infamous tempter smirked innocently, looking down at the bump under his shirt.

- She is happy too, we missed you. Very much.

With slow movements, he took the angel's hand and rested it on the outstretched flannel, appreciating to feel him caress his belly, greet the little being it contained. Even if it was not the first time that Castiel had the opportunity to visit his friend and see his fulfillment, it was always a great moment to have this intimacy, without fearing the interested gaze of a Sammy who did not had no illusions about the duo. His hand resting on the brunette's, Dean watched him staring at his swollen abdomen with that shyness all his own. He put words to his own emotion.

- To think that it's been two weeks already… it's happening at full speed. You will see, she has become very restless.

The brunette quickly looked up at the young father, worried about losing himself in their intense green and blushed. He waited only a few seconds, his palm resting against the warm fabric, before feeling a jerk against his fingers, followed by another as if the baby wanted to rest her hand against his. He whispered to himself:

- I would like to see her grow up...

The tender tone of his voice made Dean want to kiss him again, but instead he took his hand and laughed.

- You better be there to help me! On the other hand, I am a little tired, it bothers you if we continue to chat in my room, I will lie down a bit.

Maybe Dean had an ulterior motive, at least the cherub had none and he nodded as he followed the hunter down the halls, their hands still entwined even when the future father stretched out on his mattress with a sigh of relief: without being painful, the belly began to weigh heavily. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Castiel watched his friend slowly undo the buttons of his collar, descending along his finely chiseled chest ... Finally, the young man parted the flannel to proudly expose his more than rounded belly radiating lightly in the quiet of the room. It might sound strange, but the angel found his companion magnificent in gentleness and fragility, a million miles from his usual manly and confident demeanor. He immediately liked both sides, but for the first time he was not ashamed of such a thought. In the half-light an intimate atmosphere created that put the angel at ease, as if inside a soothing cocoon. Dean's pregnancy had allowed the two men to find themselves far from the violence and danger that constituted their daily life, without threat to eliminate, without a deadly shadow to hover over their heads. In the calm of the bunker, they had then been able to meet again, to simply be together and that was enough for the happiness of the divine being. Obviously, he knew things wouldn't last (they never lasted) and that they would soon return to their dark and tense daily lives. But he had decided to worry about it later.

The father-to-be eyed his friend fondly, detailing the locks falling on his forehead, the line of his jaw and his cheekbones that would soon turn pink. Embarrassing Castiel had always been one of the hunter's favorite pastimes, but he had never yet admitted how much he loved to see the blush rising to the young man's cheeks, that candor that then stood out on his face as if he had not been a millennial and heavenly being, but a shy teenager. Dean lifted the angelic hand and brought it to his lips before resting it on his blossoming lap with an encouraging smile.

- Talk to her. She recognizes your voice ...

Dean knew full well that his friend would refuse at first, there was only to see his blue eyes rounded with a mixture of joy and worry, his hand trembling slightly at the contact of the plump belly that fascinated him. But the hunter also knew that he could get anything from the angel and that he would not refuse him for such a tiny request. Shy and embarrassed as he was, the young man wanted to bond with this child, it showed on his face. Castiel finally nodded and took off his overcoat to be more comfortable, then resting his hand between the hunter's and the bulging surface. Through the thin skin, a delicate form curled up against the offered palm as if to say hello, a bewitching glow emanating from the fetus.

- Uh ... hello, little girl?

If the two friends could have heard the baby, they would have heard a crystal clear sound expressing simple and pure joy. Fortunately, the little being had other ways of making herself understood and she began to radiate a bright orange, imprinting her shape on one place of the belly and then appearing at the other end of the rounded abdomen, bouncing all over the place. with an enthusiasm that took her father's breath away. Fearing that she would hurt the hunter, Castiel put his two hands on either side of his stomach to calm the overly restless little angel.

- Be good and don't hurt your father.

Immediately the shaking ceased, to the delight of Dean who took a deep breath and laughed, amused by the baby's overreaction, but also by how quickly the latter had obeyed the angel. The certainty that he had the two dearest beings near him (sorry Sam) moved the young man who slipped green eyes filled with sweetness towards Castiel. He rested his rough palm against the beloved cheek, enjoying the touch as he glided lightly up the warm neck to stroke the jawline with the tip of his thumb.

- You see ! A child always recognizes the voice of their parents. - Oh Dean…

The time that flowed like a long trickle of honey came to a standstill as they looked at each other, losing themselves in pale eyes imagining an idyllic, slightly cliched, but incredibly alluring future. The small heat ball continued to form a bump against the hand of the angel, this tiny creature that gathered humans and legendary beings around them. By her mere presence, she had transfigured Dean, given him back a peace and happiness he never thought he would ever achieve and just for that, the angel loved this child. To think that he had wanted to destroy it, to make it disappear from the body of the hunter when he discovered it… Then he had fallen under the spell of this innocent, indistinct form, which made the Winchester smile. He had fallen under the spell of this quiet, simple life, where the man he loved embraced him without embarrassment or reason, where he no longer felt ashamed to feel for his companion more than a brotherly friendship.

- I… I'm sorry I misjudged you. Stay warm for a while longer to be able to grow taller. I'm looking forward to meet you.

Without really realizing it, the young man had leaned down to rest his cheek against the taut skin, the tips of his fingers moving back and forth in imprecise shapes on the thin, sensitive flesh that shivered slightly. Touched by so much tenderness, Dean closed his eyes and began to stroke the mass of dark hair, concentrating on his sensations, on the angel's gestures against his deliciously numb body. This was what he had dreamed of without ever perceiving it clearly, what he no longer believed he deserved after all this time hunting, torturing and killing. Castiel observed the treasure buried in his friend, studied its almost translucent chest, the magical light which moved on its surface in a fragile and bewitching ballet. The young man straightened up and put his lips on the bulge, kissing this unborn child to whom he already owed so much. He began to deposit cuddly kisses along the dark line crossing the belly and the creature began to radiate with joy, changing from amber to a soft pink, from a delicate red to a sparkling gold, extending its light and its warmth even in the bones of its wearer who was at the height of joy, his limbs subtly illuminated from within. The whole thing was so beautiful that Castiel felt a bubble burst inside him, a flood of feelings that fear could no longer hold back. Suddenly straightening up, he spoke without thinking, but did not regret his words, for they came from the heart and had long waited to be released.

- I want that with you, I want to have a child who would be ours. I want… I want… I want to be with you, Dean.

The man opened his eyes again and was silent for several seconds, staring silently at the angel who, if he realized what he had just confessed, couldn't manage to look away or feel embarrassed. Finally, the hunter's face relaxed into a beaming smile and he pulled the cherub close to him with a burst of laughter.

- Cas... Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas... it took a long time!

Even as he spoke quietly, his hoarse voice reflected his emotion and he thought of Sammy, his comments and knowing looks, from the time he had been expecting this. But deep down, he didn't care about his brother, being a pregnant man, or having denied the obvious for so long: he was happy. He hugged the angel tighter against his heart and the angel let it go, putting a possessive arm across the muscular chest without being able to believe his luck. Of course, there were all those kisses, those special moments for several days, but Castiel only saw it as a game, a way for the father-to-be to have fun. But in his arms, he couldn't doubt anymore, not when he felt the tender kiss Dean placed on his forehead, whispering:

- Me too, I want you and forever. I can't think of a better father for this child. We're going to be a family and we'll have another, and another. I love you, Cas.

It was a promise of the future and there needed no sign for the two lovers to decide to sign this pact with a kiss, their lips joining with a timid tenderness to quickly become pressing and feverish. Strangely, it was Castiel who proved to be the greediest, propping himself up on one elbow to extend the carnal embrace, leaning over the hunter until they had to catch their breath. Eyes sparkling with love and mischief, they hugged and when the angel's shirt fell to the floor, his fiery mouth descending down Dean's throat, it was time for the other Winchester to return to the bunker with as much noise as possible.

The day of deliverance finally arrived, life couldn't be reduced to hanging out in the bunker, eating whipped cream with Castiel or laughing stupidly because he couldn't see his feet, Dean was impatient for his child to come out of this big belly to be able to really meet her. He realized how lucky he was, not only to carry life, but to be able to do so without a problem. Unlike previous dads, his features weren't emaciated, he didn't feel particularly tired or weak. However, when the first contractions arrived, he found himself like all the others, on his back breathing hard. The pain was bearable but for how long? Sam had just been warned but it would take him several hours to get back, his brother didn't have that much time ahead of him. Already, the surface of his swollen stomach was moving frantically, lighting up in shades of warm tones to express the urgency of the expulsion. With his hand tightly wrapped around a large knife, the Winchester was ready to do his Caesarean himself but couldn't help the fear surface. Could he survive to meet his daughter?

- Dean, I heard you praying and I made it as fast as I could ...

Castiel suddenly appeared at his side, prayed for his hand and rounded his eyes, feeling his tremble. The great hunter who had faced Death in person, the Devil and the whole of Heaven was afraid. Gently, he wiped his forehead already soaked in sweat, that simple gesture sufficient to appease Dean who gave him a teasing look. Before screaming when the thing that was hiding inside him began to tear his insides to see the light of day. The time for uncertainty was over, the child had to be brought out quickly, without instruments or care, on the carpet of an old bunker. His blue eyes suddenly serious, the angel caught the distraught and pained gaze of his lover, speaking in a surprisingly calm voice.

- I won't let you die, Dean. Neither you nor our child.

They concluded this promise with a silent nod before the young man's world was darkened with blood and pain like he had never felt before.

***

The clock struck the hour but no one bothered to count the strokes, it didn't matter at all. Lying in a pool of blood, Dean stroked his daughter's little head, feeling her warmth against his bare chest. He felt great, which was not the case with Castiel who was catching his breath, still nauseous after all the efforts to keep the man he loved alive and then heal his wounds. Now they could enjoy a well-deserved rest, their fingers intertwined and hearts in unison, a real family.

#destiel #bosom #spn fic #pregnancy #love #hypnosis

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thefantasygirl3 · 3 years

Text

Negaverse stories: You're gonna have a bed time

Genre/warnings: Comedy, Slice of life, Action.

Word count: 5 287

Summary: The Darkwing Ducks are having a bit of a family dispute, with half of the team refusing to sleep at a proper time. An argument breaks out but is quickly interrupted by a villain attack. Now they will have to fight crime with only two heroes on top of their game.

Notes: I decided to continue writing some fun little adventures for my negaverse boys, because I refuse to let this hyper fixation go. I hope it’s a fun little read for you all. Edit: Gonna link my fanfiction.net as well, which might make it easier for some to find my stories.

Night was falling over all of st. Canard as people were already tucked in tight to sleep. Midnight was getting closer and closer. Quackerjack was fast asleep on the couch, snoring and drooling as he laid sprawled out cartoonishly. But as he was snoring loudly, a loud noise suddenly woke him up and he rolled off the couch and face planted on the floor. He let out a low groan and pushed himself up off the ground, his attention directed towards where the noise was heard, which happened to be the workshop. The duck headed over to the door and peeked inside. He saw Megavolt, sitting by the workshop table with the dismantled stereo he had started working on getting fixed earlier that day. Quacks gave away a soft yawn as he entered the room, walking up to the distracted man and stood beside him. "Hey, Sparky. How long have you been working on this?" He asked as he tilted forward to get a peek at his work. Megavolt gave his wrist watch a quick glance before he answered with "since 6 I think". "What?! You've been working for 6 hours?! When were you planning to go to bed?!" He huffed angrily and leaned in close to the rat, making him move away so he could see what he was doing again. He got angry that the stubborn rat just ignored him and kept working. "Sparkyyyy! You can't keep doing this! You need to go to bed at a reasonable hour and actually SLEEP!" He scolded him while he took the tools out of his hands and put them back into his tool box. "Hey! I'm busy, ok!? If I get into the zone, I can't just break my concentration! I need to finish it before I can stop!" He responded frustrated as he tried to take the tool box back, but Quacks moved it out of the way. "No! You need to go to bed! Now!" He demanded and put the tool box on top of his work shelf. "I'm not a kid! You can't make me!" He growled as he walked over and took it back down. "Wanna bet?" Quacks said with an annoyed squint, grabbing a hold of the box as well.

Meanwhile Bushroot was laying in his bed, sleeping soundly. Until he woke up, muttering under his breath "... I'm thirsty". He pushed himself up from his bed and wandered out into the hallway so he could grab a glass of water. That was until he noticed some light escaping the bottom of Liquidator's door. He cocked his head a bit and decided to take a peek inside to see what was going on. Liquidator was sitting by his computer, editing some ad he was tasked to make. Bushroot slipped inside and walked up beside him. "Hey. Bud. What… um… are you doing there?" He asked him softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. The dog turned his head around and gave him a tired smile. "Ah. Hey Reginald. I'm just finishing this ad before I call it a day" He explained as he looked back at the screen to continue his work. "You know it's almost midnight, right?" The plant asked and looked at him curiously. "... oh. Oops" He muttered as he saw the time in the corner of the screen.

Bushroot sighed and crossed his arms, shaking his head and muttering "Oh bud. We've discussed this!". "It was a mistake! I swear!" Liquidator tried to excuse himself as he turned around to the other man. "Liste bud. I know how you feel. You want to make sure it's perfect. You want to impress the rest of the guys so they will respect you. It's a totally legit feeling to have. But overworking yourself and tiring yourself out isn't going to solve anything" he told him as he put his hands on the other's shoulders reassuringly. "But… it needs to be good. I can't send in something bad" the water man replied with a frown. "You won't! You're too self critical. It was good the way it was, doesn't need 10 reworks" Bushroot sighed and gave his shoulder a light pat. Liquidator gave a small smile and muttered "you're right. Maybe I should get some rest". "There we go. Now, save your work and get to bed" the other man said with a grin and watched as his friend started turning off the computer, before he quickly added on "Oh! And I'll be taking the power cord". "WHAT?! YOU CAN'T DO THAT!" He suddenly yelled as he turned around to face the still calm plant. "It's just to ensure you don't turn it back on in the middle of the night. And don't use the 'what if I need to start early' excuse. You're the only one who's putting that stress on yourself" he told him off with a stern voice, as if speaking to a kid. But they were then interrupted by a loud sound from downstairs.

The two rushed over to the stairs and saw the other half of the Darkwing Ducks pulling and tugging at a screwdriver. "LET GO OF IT! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME SLEEP!" Megavolt yelled as he struggled to pull the tool loose. "Oh yes I can, if I knock you out cold!" Quackerjack replied as he tightened his grip on it. Then the two noticed the other men by the end of the stairs, staring surprised. "... workaholic refuses to sleep?" Bushroot asked with one raised eyebrow. "Overgrown baby throwing a tantrum" The other duck answered as he got distracted enough for Megavolt to take the screwdriver back, making him give the rat a hard glare. "Alright guys. This is getting ridiculous! You two need to get a hold of yourselves and get working on a proper sleep schedule! These sleeping problems are going to affect our work!" He groaned and put a hand to his face, letting out a big sigh. "Yeah. I agree. You guys can't pull more all-nighters. You need-" before Bushroot could finish, a small alarm went off, signalling that something bad was happening in town. The dog and rat grinned and ran over to the couch that would get them to their secret hideout, taking the opportunity to escape the discussion. "Sorry! No time to discuss this! Justice awaits, chuckles!" Megavolt said with a satisfied grin, plopping himself down onto the couch beside Liquidator. The other two just sighed and walked over to sit down with them, pulling the lever that was disguised as a statue which spun the couch and transported the four to their base.

They emerged from a secret entrance, already dawning their hero outfits as they landed stylishly. Megavolt rushed over to the computer and started to tap away at it. "According to the drones, there is a big collection of police around the tool shop. Though on closer inspection, most of the officers have been knocked out cold. And there appears to be some sort of white smoke coming out of the entrance and windows" he informed the others as he tapped away at the keyboard. "I think those are clouds" Bushroot added as he walked over to get a better look. "Aha! That's it! This must be the work of King Dreamland! He's putting all those cops and security to sleep so he can rob the store undisturbed!" Quackerjack announced as he pointed at the light, soft looking clouds, already rushing towards the van so they could get going to stop the crazed criminal. Liquidator let out a yawn and dragged himself over to the van and hopped into the back, muttering "right. Then let's get dangerous!". Bushroot groaned as he stepped inside it as well, grumbling annoyed about how neither he or the rodent should be doing anything dangerous in their state. Megavolt sat down in the passenger seat beside the clown, glancing over as he got the car started. "You know I can still drive. You don't gotta-" as he tried to convince him he was perfectly fine to drive, the duck gripped the wheel tightly and hissed like an angry cat, shutting up any further argument. He then hit the gas and they drove off downtown.

They soon reached the store, parking right behind the cluster of police cars and unconscious cops, floating around on soft, fluffy clouds. "Definitely the work of King Dreamland" Megavolt remarked as he watched a sleeping officer drift by the car. "And it seems his work is almost done!" Bushroot exclaimed as he pointed at the figure inside with a big bulky bag of things in his hands. This caused the Darkwing Ducks to hop out of the van and rush the building while pushing clouds out of the way.

As they got inside, they spotted the hazmat suit wearing villain with cute cartoon stickers of clouds and stars on it, still loading up the bag with wire cutters and a sledge hammer. "We are the terrors that flap in the night! We are the alarm clock that wakes you up one hour late!" Liquidator started talking as purple smoke began to fill the store, causing him to swing around and stared at the cloud of smoke. "Ah! Darkwing Ducks!" King Dreamland yelled in surprise as he backed up from the voice. "Aw come on! At least let us finish our intro!" He groaned frustrated as he reeled back and launched his fist towards the villain, knocking him back into a shelf of nuts and bolts. Quackerjack quickly grabbed a hold of his toy wind-up teeth and threw them at him, causing them to bite down onto the suit sleeve and pinning it to the shelf. He started tugging harshly at the captured sleeve, grunting as he couldn't get it loose. "How dare you?! I'll have your heads for this!" He yelled while using his other hand to pull as hard as he could. "Zip It, snore fest!" Megavolt mumbled as he aimed his finger at him. His view suddenly got a little blurry and he let out a soft groan, feeling a bit of tiredness take over for a short moment until he shook himself back to reality and fired a bolt of lightning. Dreamland gasped and covered his face, but took a peek after he heard the bolt miss him, bounce off of a circle saw and shoot right back at the group and knock Bushroot to the floor. "GHA!" He yelled as he hurt his back upon landing. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry, leafy!" The rat exclaimed in shock as he ran over to help him up.

King Dreamland took this opportunity, while the hero team was distracted and reached back to his backpack tank and grabbed the hose nozzle on the side. He pointed it at the befuddled green man and whispered "night night" before he fired a white puff of cloud at him. Megavolt heard the noise behind him and suddenly shouted "Watch out!" And pushed his friend out of the way. The cloud then completely engulfed him, making him disappear within it. Quackerjack gasped and covered his beak in disbelief, shouting a weak "No! Megsy!". He soon came back out from the cloud, lying lazily on top of it with a big, relaxed smile. "Hey… this is… pretty nice" He mumbled with a soft yawn. "You terrible tired tyrant! Hope you enjoy the prison beds!" Liquidator growled and ran at the suited man, hardening his hand so it would give him a hard smash. But the villain noticed how slow he was seemingly going and swiftly redirected the punch towards the teeth holding him stuck. As soon as he was freed from the shelf, he hopped back and pointed the nozzle at him. "You seem tired, doggy! Isn't it past your bedtime?" He said in a cocky voice before he fired another cloud at Liquidator, capturing him as well. "Well this has been fun, but I gotta get going. The night is still young!" The villain yelled back as he ran out the door and left the remaining two heroes with their friends now out of commission.

Bushroot ran over to Liquidator and gave him a light shake. While laying on his stomach on the cloud, he curled up into a ball and murmured "just five more minutes please, Reginald". "No! Liquidator! We need to catch that guy! Don't give in to your sleepiness!" The duck yelled while trying to shake him awake. Quackerjack, on the other hand, gave the rat a curious look. "... how are you feeling, smart guy?" He asked with a twist of satisfaction to his voice. "Sooooo… good… I think I'll take a little power nap" he answered his friend as he closed his tired eyes and let his leg dangle lazily over the edge of the cloud.

"Quackerjack! We have to get them off of these clouds! Come on! You've got to have something in your pockets that will help!" Bushroot ran over and shook the jester's shoulders violently. "Oooor! We don't do that! Think about it for a sec, spuds! These two finally WANT to go to sleep! We just got our little domestic issue solved for us! King Dreamland just did us a favour!" He said with a smug grin on his face, removing the leaf hands off of him.

Bushroot lit up from that realization and glanced between the two sleeping heroes. "You're right! They're sleeping like babies! But… what now? How are we going to stop King Dreamland?" He asked with a worried expression. "Pfffff! We've taken down villains separately before! The two of us can take on this one weirdo!" Quackerjack said confidently and put an arm around his fellow duck. "Yeah! You're right! Let the sleepyheads rest while we handle the hard work!" The plant nodded and chuckled, grabbing his friend's arm and pulling him out of the shop, in the general direction of the villain.

King Dreamland was walking down the street, cackling to himself as he flung the bag of tools over his shoulder. "Wow! Those guys were having an off night!" He mused to himself while speeding up his pace. But he was soon caught off guard by a tree branch suddenly appearing in his way and knocking him over. "Good job, tree friend! Now, you better stop whatever you're planning to do with those tools right now!" Bushroot yelled as he and Quackerjack were rounding the corner, starting to approach him. The villain pushed himself up from the ground and rubbed his head, quickly reaching for his nozzle and firing it at the two. The clown duck pushed his friend back and pulled out a gun from his endless supply of toys, firing it at the cloud. It caused an umbrella to pop out of the barrel, blocking the white puff from consuming them whole. "Darn!" Dreamland yelled as he turned right around and escaped the two while they were distracted. "He's getting away! After him!" Jacky said as soon as the umbrella was closed, pulling his co-hero along to give chase.

King Dreamland ran as fast as he could from the heroes, making a sharp turn into the mall. The two chasing him were slowly catching up, spotting him as he dashed into the mall and quickly following after. As they got inside, they scanned the area to determine where he went. "... There!" Quackerjack yelled and pointed at the bad guy, just entering into a sports shop. They ran inside and started looking around for him. They didn't spot him immediately, so they searched around the place. After a second of looking, Bushroot bumped into him. He screamed in fear and began to run. The plant man yelped surprised and started to run after him. "What are you planning to do with those things, you fellon?!" he yelled after him as he was right on his heels. "You'll see! Once my scheme is put into action! Ahahaha!" he laughed diabolically and held up the bag triumphantly. "OOOH! When I catch up, you'll pay for what you did to my friends!" Bushroot growled angrily as he just kept running, starting to pant a bit as he was getting exhausted from running. Quackerjack just stood beside them both, giving a quizzical glance between them. "What are you doing?" he asked as the other two looked at him confused. They then glanced down and saw that they were just running on a treadmill. "Oh. Well that's embarrassing. Anyways, I'm off!" King Dreamland jumped off the treadmill and ran out the shop again. "We got to catch him!" Jacky said and pointed towards the door. "Get me off of this thing first!" his friend yelled as he was still running and panting. "Oh. Right" he muttered and reached over to push the first button he saw, hoping it would turn it off. It just sped the treadmill up and shot Bushroot back into a wall of jump ropes. He was dizzy for a second, until the other duck pulled him up off the ground and dragged him along.

They ran into the next store, which was a music store, and saw the villain trying to sneak out the back door. Bushroot extended his arms and grabbed a hold of an electric guitar, slamming it into the hazard suited man and launching him into a drum set. He emerged with a big, broken drum around himself. Quackerjack started laughing and pointing at him, finding the slapstick hilarious. Dreamland growled angrily at being humiliated. It was then he spotted where the hero was standing, right underneath a hanging piano. How cliché, but perfect. While bushroot approached to apprehend him, he wriggled his arm loose and sprinted over to the violins, grabbing one of the bows and using it to cut the rope holding the piano and sending it plummeting down onto the jester's head. Bushroot gasped in horror and stared at the broken mess of a musical instrument. The suited man took this opportunity to bolt out the front door with his bag and ran as fast as he could. "Quackerjack?! Are you ok?!" the duck ran over to the piano and asked worriedly, rummaging through the debris until he found him. He sat up straight and swayed slightly, spitting out some piano keys before he could crawl out of the wreck. "Just fine" he muttered before heading out with his friend and pursuing the villain again.

They were soon walking through a hobby store, looking through the isles to find the bad guy. They headed down an isle with different types of paint lining the shelves while darting their eyes all around them. They kept completely quiet as to be able to hear him. It made the entire place eerily silent, like a ghost house. King Dreamland was spying on them from the other side of the shelf, watching them draw closer and closer to his position. As soon as they were near, he gave the shelf a hard shove and made it topple over towards the two. Bushroot looked up at the falling shelf and gasped in shock, giving Quackerjack a push out of the way before he was buried in pain bottles. The other duck yelped surprised before he gave away a growl and looked up at the villain, who ran away and started climbing a shelf. He bolted after him, pulling out a yo-yo from his pants and swinging it around as he got ready to attack. As soon as he reached the bottom of the shelf, Dreamland had already made it up there and picked up a big jug of pink paint, dropping it right down on top of his head. It made a painful indent into his noggin and he fell back onto the floor, getting a thunk on his beak by his own yo-yo, just for some salt in the wounds. "Ha ha ha! Wow! You guys suck! Guess you're nothing without all your team! You better just give up, I can see the bags under your eyes from here! I'm off to blow off some steam… all over town! See ya!" He taunted the two, blowing a raspberry at them, which stained his visor with spit before he hopped down and rushed out the back.

Bushroot managed to wriggle himself out from under the shelf, being completely covered in different splashes of color. He rushed over to Quacks and helped him up off the ground concernedly, looking at the jug that was still lodged into his head. The jester pulled it off of himself and straightened himself out with a proper tug on his hat tails. He then looked over at the plant man, starting to giggle quietly. "Wow. You're looking even more colorful than Megavolt during June!" He joked and snorted into his hands at the rainbow colored duck, who just rolled his eyes and pulled his friend off the floor. "Come on, Quackerjack! We gotta go and find where he went!" He grumbled and rushed both of them out the mall. "But where would he go to "blow of steam", huh?" The other asked as he got no chance to even put back the jug of paint before they were off. "Blow of steam… hmm… all over town! He's going to release his clouds all over town! Probably from a wind turbine! We got to hurry!" Bushroot realized quickly as he pointed towards the nearest wind turbine and headed towards it at top speed.

They arrived at their destination after a bit, immediately noticing that the lock on the door had been cut. "So that's why he got tools!" Bushroot growled angrily and stared at the wide open door, thinking over what their plan of attack was. His head was a little cluttered at that moment, having received a real beating earlier and been running around a lot, so he just shook his head and tried his best to focus. Quacks, on the other hand, just walked right inside. But he then saw the long stairwell leading up to the top and stopped right in his tracks. "... UUUUUUGH! Why STAIRS!? I'm tireeeeed!" He whined and leaned back in defeat. "Come on. We'll make it up there. We need to. For our friends!" The other duck sighed exhausted and began climbing up the stairs, determined to get the bad guy.

A few minutes later, they had reached the top. They were both huffing and puffing heavily, eyes bulging out of their heads as they stopped to catch their breaths. "After this… I'm removing the top floor… of our house!" Jacky groaned and hunched over while leaning on his knees. Bushroot leaned back against the door behind him to rest his tired legs, but was surprised as it started to slowly slide open and make him fall backwards out of the doorway. He looked up with a surprised look until he saw their target a bit away, carrying and setting up a smoke machine. "Hey! Stop right there!" The jester yelled and hopped out beside his friend, pointing at their enemy with a pissed look, mostly because of the pain he had caused them.

King Dreamland turned around and looked at the two weary heroes, grumbling a flippant "geez, do you guys ever give up?". He then set down the smoke machine and pulled the nozzle from his backpack, aiming it at them both. "Alright. You found out my plan. So now what? What are you planning to do to stop me? I mean look at yourselves! You're going to pass out any second" he spoke casually to them as he lightly waved his weapon around, showing how nonchalant he was about all of it, clearly not taking the whole situation seriously. "Don't underestimate my stubbornness-" "determination" "DETERMINATION! We'll put a stop to you right now!" Quackerjack yelled at him and pointed a firm finger while glaring irritated. "Alright. Put a stop to this" he shrugged and shot a big cloud at them. The jester gave away a shriek and covered his face, preparing for the collision. Bushroot shot up from the floor and extended his arms, wrapping them around the other's waist and janking him out of the way.

King Dreamland growled in rage and stomped his foot. "Why won't you lay down and die?!" He shouted as he glared at the two with absolute fury. Quackerjack looked down at his pockets and started rummaging through them to find something he could use to stop the villain on a rampage. He then felt something in his pockets that he didn't expect to have. It gave him an idea and he looked over at the plant holding onto him. "You have to toss me!" he told him hurriedly. "Huh?" he just responded to the cooky duck's request, not sure he heard him right. "THROW MY BODY AT HIM!!!" he then shouted, startling his friend into just doing as told and throwing him as hard as he could. Quackerjack flew straight at the villain and before he could fire another cloud, he was tackled and had a crazy clown climbing and scuttling all over his body, like a racoon who was also an expert climber. He stumbled around while he was being jerked left and right from the whirlwind of a hero. "Get… OFF ME YOU TIRED LOON!!!" He shouted as he finally managed to rip him off and toss him towards his co-hero, knocking him to the ground.

Bushroot quickly pushed Quacks off and got up to rush at the king, ready to whoop his butt. He picked up a sledgehammer from the ground that his enemy brought and swung it at him. But he dodged out of the way and backed out of yet another swing at him, avoiding every attempt at knocking him down. "Man. You guys really suck at this! Can't even land a punch!" He chuckled and grabbed a hold of the hammer, janking it out of his hands and aiming the hose in his face. "Time to visit dreamland."

He shot him right in the face. But he was not greeted by a soft, fluffy, sleep inviting cloud. He was instead splattered in the face by a load of pink. "H-HUH!?!" Dreamland exclaimed, bewildered as he looked into the nozzle and only saw pink. He then looked towards his back to see what went wrong, to discover that his usual tank had been replaced by a jug of pink paint. He then looked up at the other hero and saw him holding up the actual container, giving them both a thumbs up. Dreamland stared at him in shock, unable to believe he was outsmarted by two extremely exhausted dummies. This was unbelievable! He couldn't accept this! But as he was starting to have a breakdown of rage, bushroot looked over at Jacky and yelled "Rubber band!", Which he was tossed quickly and snapped it around the villain, finally capturing him. They both walked up to each other and jumped up and down in joy, cheering about their victory until the tiredness finally started to set in and they fell over onto the ground. "... Let's just get the other two." "Yeah. Let's go" they concluded while laying limply on the ground.

They had finally made it back to where they first had fought King Dreamland and helped the cops wake up before they handed him over to them. They then went inside and spotted their friends, peacefully floating around and sleeping soundly still. They looked so much better than they did earlier, well rested and happy, having these relaxed smiles spread out on their faces. "Ha… They must have had a nice nap" Quackerjack muttered with a fatigued smile as he stared at the sleeping Megavolt, then made the cloud disappear with this tool he took from Dreamland, causing the rat to fall down onto the floor with a thud. "Huh?! Whu?!" he suddenly woke up and looked all around him confused, not sure what had just happened. Quacks handed over the tool to Bushroot, who used it to get rid of the cloud from under Liquidator. But unlike the other duck, he gently caught the dog before he fell onto the floor. "Huh? Hey! How dare you?! I- Uh… Wait. Where did he go?!" he asked puzzled as he looked around, helped back onto his feet by the guy holding him. Megavolt got back up again and rubbed his neck a bit. "Hey… I'm feeling pretty refreshed! Huh!" he pointed out and stretched his arms, letting out a small groan. "Glad to hear it, sparks" Quackerjack grumbled and patted his shoulder. As the rat turned around to him to say something, he immediately stopped himself and looked shocked at his friend. He looked HORRIBLE! Baggy eyes, tired expression, slouchier posture than usual. He was looking absolutely EXHAUSTED! Liquidator thought the same as he got a good look at Bushroot. "Uh… hey… Reginald… Feeling ok?" he asked nervously and put a hand on his shoulder. "You two look like trash!" Megavolt just said, pointing at them both. "Well I was trying to be nice about it, Elmo" he grumbled at the straight forward remark.

"It's ok! We're fine! We captured King Dreamland and everything is good now!" Bushroot told them while trying to look like he wasn't currently dying. "Yeah! We are totally fine!" Quacks added on and grinned at their friends. "... Clearly you're not. You're zombies!" Megavolt sighed and walked over to them, starting to lead them outside towards the van. "Yeah. You two need to go to bed immediately!" Liquidator added in and opened the back of the van for his friend to hop in. Quackerjack opened the driver side door to get inside, but was pushed to the side by the rat, who sat down in the seat. "No. You are not driving like that. Get in the passenger side!" he demanded, pointing to the other side of the car. The duck grumbled angrily and walked around to the other side. He got in and sat down while glaring at his friend. Bushroot looked at Liquidator and muttered "It seems the sun is starting to rise… I'm worried I won't be able to go back to sleep." "Yeah! I don't even feel that tired! It's so early anyways now, so I probably won't be able to fall asleep anyways!" the jester noted to Megavolt, but was completely ignored by him so he could drive.

As they made it back home, Quackerjack was fast asleep in the passenger seat, snoring and drooling onto his shoulder. Liquidator looked over at Bushroot, who looked like he was about to faint as well. "Hey. We're home. Let me help you inside" he spoke softly as he gently put his arm around his shoulders, helping him out into the garage. Megavolt walked around to the passenger side and opened it up, picking the sleeping duck up and just carrying him inside without complaint or snarky comment. Gosalyn was just walking down the stairs, hearing someone coming home. She was in her pyjamas, holding onto Mr. Banana Brain and rubbing her eyes. "Another mission?" she mumbled sleepily, then noticed her two dads, one half asleep and one completely knocked out. The dog hushed her softly, nodding a little towards Quacks. He let out another gentle snore and leaned his head into Megavolt's chest. She nodded and smiled, walking over to him and laying the doll into his lap. "Night daddy" she whispered to him before she turned around to Bushroot and whispered "Night papa" to him. "Good night, my little apple seed" he murmured sleepily. Liquidator and Megavolt both grinned and started heading upstairs to put both the dorks to bed, finally.

#Megavolt #quackerjack #bushroot #liquidator #darkwing duck #negaverse #Gosalyn Mallard #nega megavolt #nega quackerjack #nega bushroot #nega liquidator #nega gosalyn #fanfiction #fanfic #friendly four #dwd fanfic

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spicysoftsweet · 4 years

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HisoIllu at the Amusement Park

Or the one where they put Bungee World out of business.

For @lonelyinvisibly‘s ask A/N: Hastily written, probably would have been better as a set of headcanons.

“Sure, I’ll go.”

Hisoka looked at the raven-haired beauty seated beside him on his living room cough in a mixture of confusion and shock. Why was it this easy? What trick did Illumi have up his sleeve?

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Illumi responded now, matching Hisoka’s widened amber eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to actually agree to coming to the amusement park,” he responded in a smaller voice, turning his attention back to watching Noutube videos of roller coaster rides on his laptop. He leaned back into the couch, raising his arms above his head as if practicing being on the actual ride, a grin on his face.

Illumi went back to picking at his nails.

“It’s excellent training.”

“For what?!”

“Suppressing emotional release. Suspension of fear. Patience. Blending into a crowd. Finding your way with poor directions. Traveling in suboptimal conditions. Money management..,” the list went on and on, and Hisoka regretted having even asked. When Illumi started talking, sometimes it was like a switch that couldn’t be turned off. He flipped to another video, reviewing the food and desserts at the amusement park. This was going to be simply marvelous, he thought, mouth-watering already as he envisioned the mountains of funnel cake, cotton candy and candied apples he would be able to gorge on the entire day.

---

After a long drive in Illumi’s Mercedes-Benz minivan, they finally made it to the immense park attraction known as Bungee World. Renowned the world over for its colorful mascots, addictive bubblegum pink confectionery (not just gum!), and catchy tunes, Bungee World was the ultimate attraction for children of all ages, the most excited of all being Hisoka.

Hisoka let out a high-pitched cry that pierced through Illumi’s very soul, if he had one, as he ran towards the gates. Illumi, intentionally taking an excruciatingly long time to catch up to him, rummaged through his Rouis Buitton fanny pack for their tickets… and their Fast Passes, their Unlimited Drinks and Dinner passes, Show Passes, Backstage Passes - every pass available, Illumi had bought for the two of them. This was going to be the best day of Hisoka’s life, whether he liked it or not.

Hisoka made it on the very park attraction he had coveted from the internet the day before, cutting in front of a group of likely middle schoolers in order to get to the front of the line.

“You stupid clown bitch! Didn’t you see we were standing here?” One particularly bold kid yelled from the small crowd.

“Ronald McDonald looking ass, get to the back of the line, old man!!!”

Old man. That struck a nerve. Before Hisoka could react and clear the park - which meant no one would be running the machines - Illumi ran up and presented the fast pass both to the kids and the ride operator. He didn’t realize the dead, voidless look in his eyes was probably enough already to defuse the situation.

Strapped in, Hisoka was on cloud nine, until the ride started… and then ended.

“That’s it?!”

“Yes.” Illumi responded, flatly.

“Lame.” Hisoka went off to drown his sorrows in enough cotton candy to wear as an outfit. Then again, that was an excellent idea. He would incorporate that into his next look.

Illumi went off to test his throwing skills at the carnival games and to the dismay of every worker there, was entirely too good at it.

“Take your pick, Hisoka,” Illumi said, with a small swell of pride. As Hisoka left with the entire set of prizes, the teenagers manning the kiosks prepared for their eventual dismissal. No one would believe this story.

A few rides and a picture with the Bungee Gum mascot himself, with whom Hisoka forced a picture with Illumi sandwiched in between, Hisoka and Illumi were ready to leave. It was an overall satisfying day.

It was a good thing they both decided they had outgrown the attraction. A Do Not Admit sign was posted with their faces, the second they decided to leave.

#hisoillu #hisoka #illumi #amusement park shenanigans

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writingblock101 · 4 years

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Won’t Go Down Slow (Jason Todd x Reader)

Wow, I am shocked at the positive response I’ve gotten from this! I’m so happy you guys enjoyed it! The title also comes from White Flag by Bishop Brigs. Enjoy

Tags: @sarcasmismyfirstlove @demiwitchavenger7 @because-icanhide

Summary: One night, while staking out the Joker who’s making moves in Gotham, you get captured.

Word count: 3,000

Warnings: Violence

Part 1

Jason perches next to his favorite gargoyle in Gotham, looking at the streets below. He checks the ammo in his handgun and wonders where you are, given he hasn’t seen you all night. Although you work separately, on slow nights, such as this one, you two often sit together on a building or at least see each other in passing.

He cocks his gun, staring down the sites at a car parked in front of an apartment complex. Jason lines the barrel with the rearview mirror, then his phone rings.

During patrol, his phone is on silent, but it allows calls from four different people: You, Mia, Dick, and Roy. He frowns, returns his gun to its holster and digs his phone out of his pocket, his face draining of color at the sight of the caller ID. Mia only calls when shit hits the fan. Jason rips his helmet off.

“What happened?” He demands, not greeting Mia.

“Y/N was staking out the Joker’s warehouse but then they brought in a hostage,” Mia quickly explains, also skipping pleasantries. “And she went in to rescue the hostage, but it was a setup and she got ambushed! Her comm cut out but the Joker has her!”

“What?!” Jason growls.

“The Joker has Y/N!”

“Send me that address, now!” Jason roars, jumping to his feet.

“Just sent it,” Mia confirms then Jason hangs up and looks at the address.

He shoves his helmet back on and takes off sprinting toward in the alleyway where he parked his motorcycle then leaps to the next roof. Rolling to his feet, Jason continues sprinting, his mind only on you. Hang on, Y/N. I’m coming.

His mind flashes to the Joker standing over him and beating him with a crowbar, causing Json to grit his teeth and run harder. As he’s running, a figure steps out of the shadows, into Jason’s path.

“Hey, Red!” A familiar voice greets, but Jason is running too fast to dodge him and slams into him.

Red Hood and Nightwing go tumbling to the ground before Jason is back on his feet, about to take off again. Dick jumps to his feet and catches Jason’s shoulder.

“Woah, Hood. Where’s the fire?”

“I don’t have time for this, Wing!” Jason smacks Dick’s hand off his shoulder and takes off running.

Dick frowns, but chases after Jason, keeping pace with him.

“What happened?” He asks.

“Fuck off!”

“No, what happened?” Dick rolls his eyes at his brother’s stubborn attitude. “Let me help!”

Jason grits his teeth and pauses on a roof corner to grapple across the street.

“Joker’s got Lightning,” He answers gruffly then swings to the next roof.

“What?!” Dick exclaimed then grapples to the same roof to catch up with Jason again. “What do you mean Joker has Lightning?!”

Jason jumps down a fire escape, skipping the stairs to reach the ground faster where his motorcycle is.

“She’s been staking him out and apparently he took a hostage but it was a trap and she got ambushed,” Jason explains as he jumps down another set of stairs.

“I didn’t even know he was out of Arkham!” Dick responds, dumbfounded.

“He hasn’t been making moves which was why Lightning was watching him. She was trying to figure out what he was up to,” Jason mounts his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life.

“I’m coming with you,” Dick jumps on the back.

Jason grumbles something but is secretly grateful for the backup. He rips out of the alley, driving faster than he ever has. Hang on, Y/N.

. . .

You wake up via a slap to the face. You groan, the Joker’s laugh ringing around you while you hung in the middle of the room by your wrists, your toes barely brushing the ground. Your heavy boots, jacket, holsters, and armor are gone, leaving you in the long sleeve compression shirt you wear under her armor, your pants, your mask and a strange collar around your neck. Joker never really cared about secret identities You suppose.

Four armed men are posted in each corner and the little girl’s body is long gone. Your head is still ringing, your knee and hand are throbbing, and your face numb with pain. Your shoulders pop from the unnatural angle.

“Look who’s up!” Joker squeals with delight then waves the crowbar. “Look familiar?” He starts cackling then points the crowbar at you while walking around you in a slow circle. “You know, I didn’t know that superheroes dated each other, but look at you! Racking it up with ole boy wonder,” He pauses to run the crowbar over a hickey just barely visible over your high neck shirt.

You move quickly, trapping the Joker in a chokehold between your thighs, your knee screaming in pain. He chokes, wildly swinging the crowbar around, but he’s unable to hit you due to the angle. You clench your legs harder, cutting off his airway, then one of the men shoots, hitting your hurt knee. You cry out, but grit your teeth and keep your hold on the Joker.

You pull him tighter and try to blind the men, but the heat builds up in your chest, only to be snuffed out by a heavy dose of electricity raking through your body. You scream, your body convulsing and forcing you to release the Joker then it stops, leaving you sagging heavily on the chains.

You panted, trying to get your bearings as your head spins, dizzy with pain from your knee and the sudden electrocution.

“Well, that was rude,” The Joker huffs, straightening his suit, then swings the crowbar, smacking you across the face. “Kids these days have no manners! But, it let me show off my new toy,” He giggles, waving a remote at you. “It blocks those pesky powers of yours so we can have some real fun. After I get rid of this storm cloud hanging over my head, then it’ll be a party.”

It takes a moment for you to process his words then realization dawns on you. He’s going to kill me. The Joker smacks the crowbar against the palm of his hand with a demented grin.

“Normally, I think repeating things is so boring, but how can I not just bring things full circle?” He laughs maniacally then swings the crowbar, hitting you in the stomach.

You jolt forward, pain exploding in your stomach then he swings the bar up, hitting you in the face and tearing more skin off your already cut cheekbone. The Joker wastes no time swinging the bar again to nail you in the ribs then swings down and hits your hurt knee, knocking your feet out from under you.

You scream in pain, your full weight suddenly yanking down against your wrists then there’s a loud SNAP! Your wrists explode with pain, fire traveling up your arms.

“Isn’t this fun?” Joker cackles then hits you in the ribs again, knocking the wind out of you.

You gasp for air then he swings again, hitting the same spot. Another crack rings out as your side explodes with pain, tears freely flowing down your face.

Jason, please help you think hopelessly as the Joker winds up again.

. . .

Jason leaps off his motorcycle, two guns already drawn and sprints toward the warehouse, only to be tackled by Dick.

“Hood, wait!”

“Get the fuck off me!” Jason throws Dick over his shoulder but Dick rolls back to his feet and sweeps Jason’s feet out from under him. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“We can’t go in there guns blazing!” Dick argues.

“Fucking watch me!” Jason hisses, pushing himself back to his feet. “That sick bastard has Lightning!”

“Yeah, and who knows how many more armed men?!” Dick snaps back.

“I’ll murder them all!”

“Hood, just think for one second! Joker had enough men to successful ambush Lightning! The Lightning Strike! You’ve seen her fight her when she’s bleeding, outnumbered, and her back is against the wall then still win!”

“He killed me, Wing!” Jason roars. “And I’m not about to let him do the same to her.”

“He won’t but we need a plan.”

Jason clenches his jaw, his grip tight around his guns.

“Fine. What’s your brilliant plan?”

Dick looks up at the warehouse then points to the windows.

“Let’s see what we’re about to run into.”

Once reaching the windows, they look down into the warehouse and see a sight worse than either of them anticipated.

You are hanging from the ceiling by your wrist, head slumped forward and toes dragging in a large puddle of blood. Your shoulders are hanging at an unnatural angle and a piece of bone shines through your knee. Your body is completely battered, covered in blood and bruises. There seems to be no part of you untouched.

The Joker circles you with a crowbar then swings it, hitting your side. You jolt from the force but barely reacts. Joker seems unsatisfied by your lack of reaction because he pulls out a remote and hits a button.

Your body convulses as you scream in pain. Joker laughs with a cynical grin as you slump forward again. Dick has to use his full body weight to keep Jason from busting through the window.

“Hood, wait!” He hisses.

“For what?!” Jason demands. “Y/N to bleed out?! There’s four guards, I’ll take the two the right, you get the two on the left, then I’ve got the fucking clown,” He looks back down into the warehouse to see you yelling at the Joker.

Joker seems shocked, but grins and swings at you, hitting you in the stomach. You rock back, doubled over but straightened up and yell again. The Joker laughs loudly and repeatedly hits you. You bow over coughing but pull yourself up and yell again.

“What the hell is she doing?!” Jason demands.

“Look,” Dick points at the top of the chain holding you up, the top links cracking. “I think she’s trying to break the chain.”

“By getting hit?”

“If she flies up far enough, her body weight will do the trick,” Then as Dick says the words, the Joker hits you harder than Jason has seen him hit you all night, but Dick’s right.

You go flying, just high enough to grab some of the chain above your then you drop all your body weight. The chain snaps and you plummet to the ground, landing with a crash. You groan but push yourself to your feet into fighting stance.

The Joker laughs gleefully and one of the men tries to shoot you but you roll out of the way and sweeps his feet out from under him.

“Move!” Dick yells, then the two burst through the window, rolling to the ground.

Jason shoots one of the guards while Dick knocks the other out with his Escrima sticks and a well-placed roundhouse to the face. You get dragged to the ground by your ankle by the guard you previously knocked to the floor. You land with a crash but kick him in the face and scramble for his abandoned gun. You manage to snag it off the floor and shoot the guard in the shoulder.

Jason dives for the Joker, kicking him as hard as he can in the face. The Joker hits the ground, his nose bleeding and laughs.

“Now, here’s a real fight!” He swings the crowbar up to hit Jason, but Jason catches it and breaks the Joker’s elbow then begins repeatedly punching him in the face.

“You fucking bastard!” He screams, continuing to beat the Joker’s face, each punch somehow harder than the last.

Dick catches his arm as he winds back for another punch, the Joker bleeding and woozy.

“Red! Enough!”

Jason shoves him off.

“This bastard deserves to fucking die!”

He punches the Joker again, but Dick catches his arm once more, yanking it back with more force.

“Lightning is bleeding out on the floor and will die unless you get her back to the Batcave!”

Jason falters then stumbles off the Joker to where you are lying on the ground, still holding the guard’s gun, your breathing shallow. He rips his helmet off, at an absolute loss about where to begin.

“God, Y/N, what were you thinking?!” Jason demands, falling to his knees next to you.

He yanks his belt off and fashions a makeshift tourniquet around your lower thigh to stop the bleeding from your gunshot wound and destroyed knee. You groan, barely able to even convey your pain.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” Jason’s chest tightens when you whimper.

He pushes your hair off your face in an attempt to comfort you, but in the state you’re in, Jason knows he can’t do anything. He frowns at the strange collar around your neck and prods around for a button or release, but finds nothing.

He moves to your shoulders, dread building in his stomach. Both of your shoulders are dislocated. In their current state, you’ll never be able to hold onto Jason if he tries to get you back to the Manor. While he would be holding onto you, he’d also have to drive the motorcycle, meaning you would need to be holding onto him as well.

“Fuck,” He mumbles under his breath then reaches for your head, cradling your face. “Y/N?”

Tears flow from under your ripped mask.

“Jay,” You murmur. “Fuck, it hurts so bad.”

Jason feels his chest clench.

“I know, baby, but I’ve got to relocate your shoulders or we’re not going to be able to get you to the Cave,” He wipes away some of the blood and tears from under your eyes. “I’m sorry,” He murmurs to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead then as gently as he can, he picks up one of your arms.

You whimper for a moment then Jason pulls your arm forward and straight, guiding the ball back into the socket. You gasp in pain when the bone goes back in place, gritting your teeth together.

“You ready for the other?” Jason asks, eyebrows furrowing together in worry.

You nod tightly and Jason repeats his movements with your other arm. This time, you cry out, your fingers weakly curling around Jason’s jacket.

“You’re done, you did so good,” Jason kisses your forehead again then carefully picks you up, dark spots clouding your vision.

Despite his caution, you still moan in pain, pressing your head against his armored chest.

“I know,” Jason frowns. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Dick looks up from tying up the Joker and hustles over to them.

“How is she?” He asked, carefully running his fingers through your blood matted hair.

“Not good. I’m taking her to the Batcave.”

Going to the Batcave isn’t ideal, but with you, it’s, unfortunately, the only option Jason has. Although your superhuman DNA will accelerate your healing time, it also means your DNA is alien enough to raise suspicion at a hospital. Besides, two vigilantes, especially one as controversial as Red Hood showing up at a Gotham hospital would not be warmly welcomed and your identities would be compromised.

“What’s the collar?” Dick asks.

“I don’t know,” Jason frowns. “I couldn’t get it off.”

“We’ll get it off at the Cave. I’ll be there soon,” He jabs his finger over his shoulder at the Joker, passed out and tied up. “Babs is meeting me here to deal with him.”

“Don’t you dare leave him alone,” Jason growls, his blood boiling at the thought of the Joker getting away with hurting you.

“I won’t,” Dick reassures him. “I’m not leaving until Babs is here, which—” He pauses, at the audible roar of a motorcycle. “That’s probably her now. Go.”

Jason nods then rushes out to his own motorcycle. He doesn’t acknowledge Babs and instead wraps an arm tightly around your back, holding you close to his chest while his other arm holds the motorcycle. You curl one arm around Jason’s waist, weakly balling your fingers into the back of his jacket. He starts the motorcycle then tears off down the street.

“Hold on, Y/N,” He murmurs.

By the time Jason reaches the Manor, Alfred and Bruce are waiting outside for them. Dick must’ve called them.

“We have everything prepped, Master Jason,” Alfred greets, opening the door for Jason.

Jason vaguely nods, rushing toward the Batcave, closely followed by Bruce.

“What happened?” Bruce demands.

“The Joker,” Jason tells him shortly.

“What?” Bruce questions. “She went after him alone?!”

“You really think I would’ve let her go after him alone?!” Jason snaps. “She got ambushed.”

“Is Joker dead?”

“Seriously?!” Jason demands. “Y/N is dying and you’re asking if that deranged asshole is dead?!”

“Answer the question, Jason,” Bruce says sternly.

“I made a promise to you.”

“Answer the question.”

“Why? Because you don’t trust me?!”

“No, because you made that promise before he went after someone you love.”

Jason grits his teeth but answers.

“No,” He says shortly. “He’s not fucking dead, but he should be.”

Once in the Batcave, Alfred directs Jason to lay you on one of the medical tables then snaps on a pair of gloves and begins working, just as he’s done for the rest of them at various points of their vigilante careers.

“This may be strange to hear, given the recent events,” Bruce gestures to you. “But I’m proud of you for not killing Joker.”

“Yeah, well, it was rather let Y/N bleed out or beat his brains in,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“Still. In a situation like this, I know how tempting it is. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” He lays a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “You did good, but you should go change and take a shower, maybe get something to eat. It’s going to be a while.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jason mutters.

“Jas—”

“Save it,” Jason growls out.

“Come on, man,” Dick’s voice interrupts. “You’ve done what you can.”

“Did I?” Jason questions, turning to face Dick. “Did I really do all that I can?!”

“What are you talking about?”

“She’s bleeding out on that table because I wasn’t there, Dick!” Jason yells, seizing the front of Dick’s Nightwing suit, but Dick doesn’t push him off, knowing Jason’s aggression isn’t targeted toward him. “She got tortured tonight because I wasn’t there! I couldn’t protect the one good thing in my life!”

He shoves Dick away from him and stares at his hands, stained with your blood.

“I almost let that bastard take her from me,” Jason curled his hands into shaking fists. “He almost took the only good thing in my life! Because I wasn’t fucking there! I knew she was watching the Joker! I should’ve gone, but I didn’t want to smoother her because I know I can’t fuck this up,” His voice got quieter and vulnerable, his hands knotting themselves into his hair. “I can’t fuck up the one good thing in my life. She makes me feel okay with being me. I don’t hate myself quite so much because she loves me so how can I hate something that someone like her loves?”

His hands drop to his side for a moment, then Jason’s anger builds again. He turns and punches a wall.

“I know better than anyone what he’s capable of! I know how far he will go! Why the fuck did I let her anywhere near him without back up?!” Then the mighty Red Hood crumbled. “Why did she go after the Joker alone?” He whispers, tears streaming down his face.

Dick frowns then guides Jason up and pulls him into a hug. Jason knots his fingers into the back of Dick’s suit, silently sobbing into his shoulder.

“I can’t lose her.”

Dick rubs his back, knowing all the reckless anger Jason projected tonight was to hide the underlying fear, but unfortunately, fear never leaves. It curls up and makes its home inside, demanding to be felt.

“Come on, Jay,” He whispers to him. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

. . .

You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar bedroom, most likely in the Manor. Your body feels pleasantly numb, but given the amount of bandages, you know the numbness is the work of the pain medicine. You glance over to see Jason sitting in a plush chair next to your bed, arms crossed, but head slumped over, asleep.

Thankfully, he’s not in his armor and appears to have showered. You know he’s going to be angry with you for not calling him before you entered the warehouse and last night was not easy for him, especially given his own history with the Joker.

Jason stirs, blinking awake then he sees you looking at him. His eyes widened in disbelief.

“Hey,” You greet quietly, your throat sore.

“Hey,” He breathes back then relief floods his face as he rushes forward and pulls you as close to him as possible.

You loop an arm around loosely around his back as best as you can, relieved that you're still alive. You feel Jason press a kiss to the top of your head, then he pulls back to hold your face in his hands. He sighs, dropping his head in relief and pulls you close to him again.

“I was so fucking scared,” He admits, kissing the top of your head again.

“Yeah,” You feel your eyes well up. “I fucked up pretty bad, didn’t I?”

Jason slowly releases you and sits back in his chair.

“Y/N, what were you thinking?”

“He had a kid,” Your voice grew thick.

“The hostage,” Jason connects the dots, his shoulders slumping with the realization. “The hostage was a kid.”

You nod tearfully, staring up at the ceiling.

“He injected her with Joker Toxin and gave her a gun. I gave her the antidote, but right as I did, they shot her,” You squeeze your eyes shut, tears running down the side of your face. “She couldn’t have been any older than five.”

He leans forward and kisses your forehead, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“He knew I was watching him so he set a trap to kill me,” You clench your jaw for a moment, tears continuing to flow. “He kept saying how it would be so great to bring it all full circle because he knew we were together.”

Jason’s face goes slack and he pulls you close to him again, feeling the weight of how close he came to losing you.

“I know I should’ve called you and I’m sorry but right as I saw them bring the little girl in and I knew I had to help her—”

“Shh,” Jason comforts you, stroking your hair. “It doesn’t matter now. It’s okay. You did your best.”

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” He kisses your forehead again and sits down.

“What was the total damage done?” You ask.

“Both shoulders dislocated, both wrists broken, six broken fingers, shattered knee, seven broke ribs, a punctured lung, a black eye, a broken nose, busted lip, broken ankle, a total of thirty-one stitches, almost full-body bruising including your trachea, and one of the worst concussions of your life. It’s a miracle you didn’t have more internal bleeding,” Jason rattles off with a frown.

Damn.

“So… No sex for a while, huh?”

Jason stares at you for a long moment then starts chuckling. His chuckling quickly dissolves into full-blown laughter as he covers his face with his hand, shocked that you just said that. You start giggling herself, but it turns to a wince due to your broken ribs. You watch as Jason wipes away a tear from laughing so hard.

“God, you’re worse than I am.”

You grin as much as your busted lip and bruised face will allow you but your smile falls as your mind drifts.

“Did you kill the Joker?”

Jason’s face hardens.

“You know, B asked me the same question,” He sighs, his jaw tightening. “No. I wanted to, after what he did to you. I should’ve,” Jason looks away, his jaw popping slightly from how hard he is clenching it.

You reach for him as best as you can. Your fingertips barely brush his face, but he looks up and scoots his chair closer, allowing your hand to fully cradle his face. He covers your bandaged hand with his own.

“Thank you for saving me,” You whisper to him.

Jason presses a kiss to the small section of your palm not encased in a cast.

“I will always save you,” He promises.

The end! I really loved writing this and I’ve been shocked by the success of it! I’ve got a few ideas for future fics with Jason that I’ll definitely post on here. I do take request, although, for the DC universe, I definitely know the most about Batman/Robins.

#Jason Todd x reader #Red Hood x reader #jason todd #red hood #nightwing #batman #DC #DC comics #Jason Todd Imagine #Red Hood imagine #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanons #dick grayson #bless up for dick grayson being jason's impulse control #joker

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litwitlady · 4 years

Text

Cosmic Clowns, Part 8

For the Tumblr crowd! A little transition chapter, but we’re headed toward some big story moments soon!!

Read on AO3.

Michael drops Alex off at his house. Kisses him breathless against his front door, pulling away just before they are unable to stop. Says goodnight and heads out to Foster’s Ranch to spend the rest of the night beneath the stars. Eyes scanning the sky for home, heart whispering that home spent all night kissing his lips sweet and swollen.

As the stars wink down at him, he replays the evening over and over in his head. Wondering at the grin that won’t leave his face – cheek muscles tight and sore with joy. The way his heartbeat hasn’t slowed in hours. The way every miserable day of his life to this point suddenly feels worth something. If he were stupid, he’d call that love.

He falls asleep sometime near sunrise. Deep and dreamless.

A car horn wakes him a few hours later. Old man Foster waves at him from his own beat up truck, turning onto the highway and disappearing. Michael squints into the morning sun and pulls out his phone.

‘Good morning, Michael. Sleep well?’ Isobel asks, voice laced with her own happiness.

That grin finds the corners of his mouth again and he laughs when he hears Maria in the background. ‘Not as good as you.’ He hops over the tailgate and climbs into the cab. ‘Have lunch with me today. Crashdown – noon.’ He cranks his engine and glances at the dashboard clock. ‘And Maria is very, very late for work. She should probably bring her boss an apology donut.’

‘Well, a little birdy named Liz Ortecho told me that the boss man himself was thirty minutes late this morning. Guess none of us did much sleeping last night. See you at noon.’ She giggles and hangs up.

Michael considers calling Alex but decides not to distract him any further. He does send a kissy face emoji along with a good morning. And yes, he almost gags at himself.

What remains of the morning flies by. Michael helps Arturo replace the menu sign behind the counter, spending an inappropriate amount of time texting back and forth with Alex.

Right on time, Isobel glides through the double doors and motions him towards a booth in the back. She removes her sunglasses, eyes tired but shining. ‘All the gory details, Michael. Leave nothing out.’

‘Nothing to share. I was a perfect gentleman unlike yourself. Dropped him off at his door and said goodnight. Some of us have manners.’

‘Oh, fuck your manners.’ She pours the tiniest splash of cream into her coffee. ‘I got laid.’ She smiles wickedly as she sips at her mug.

Michael smirks and throws a sugar packet at her face. It splashes into her coffee and she slaps at his arm in protest. ‘Alex and I are taking our time. We’ll get there. And when we do, I’m not telling you jack shit.’

Isobel gives him an appraising look, then quirks an eyebrow. ‘You’re different with him. Softer.’ She crosses her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes. ‘You love him.’

He doesn’t say anything. Just holds her gaze which is all the answer she needs.

‘I’m going to tell him, Isobel.’ Michael’s voice has turned serious. His eyes clouded with a new worry. ‘I have to.’

She bites her lip and her forehead creases. Takes a long time to respond as she drinks her coffee. ‘You can’t, Michael. We all promised.’ She flicks her eyes at him accusingly. ‘You’ve sat across from me and given this same speech. With every single relationship I’ve ever been in.’

She’s right. He’s always been annoyingly self-righteous when it comes to keeping their secret. And now he realizes that’s because he’s never been in love before. Which makes him a colossal asshole and the worst kind of hypocrite. Both Isobel and Max have ruined relationships keeping their secret. He doesn’t get to be any different.

And yet.

‘I’m going to tell him. Tonight. About me only. Your secret will be safe.’ He glances out the window, avoiding her gaze.

‘Michael,’ she hisses, leaning across the table. ‘He knows we were all found together – you told him. He’s not an idiot.’

He leans back at her, crowding into her space. ‘He’d never hurt us. And you’re right. I do love him, Isobel. And I’ve never loved anyone. Ever. You and Max have always had each other. Please don’t take this from me.’

She scoffs. ‘You have us, Michael. You’ve always had us.’

But he shakes his head. ‘Max is your person. Isn’t that what you’re always saying?’ Anger begins to seep into his words. ‘That twin bond you two have? I don’t fucking have that with either of you. But maybe I could have something close. With Alex.’

Isobel knows she can’t argue with him. She’s always known how lonely Michael’s life has been. Even with the three of them finally together the shape of that loneliness still lingers, permanently lining his eyes with sadness. ‘Are you going to tell Max?’

‘I was hoping you’d help me with that.’

She groans. ‘Of course. This is why you wanted to have lunch.’

‘Please, Iz? Max and I would just end up coming to blows with you having to intervene anyway. This way we skip the violence.’ He puts his hand on hers and squeezes.

‘Fine. But Max is going to have his say, Michael. You know that.’ Isobel rolls her eyes. ‘Can we eat now?’

Michael smiles and waves towards Arturo.

Later that night, he heads back to his trailer to shower. Alex is cooking him dinner and he doesn’t want to be late. He’s spent all day muttering to himself – practicing the very difficult conversation ahead of him. Besides Max and Isobel, no one’s ever known the truth about him – about them. It’s a conversation none of them ever thought they’d have. So, the words are hard to find. Tricky and twisted up in his tongue.

How do you tell someone that you’re an alien from another planet? And that you have superpowers? It’s beyond absurd.

How will Alex react? The best-case scenario he allows himself to imagine is Alex being stunned speechless – never talking to him again. The worst case is, well, much worse.

Because there’s no way he just accepts it. No fucking way.

The drive to Alex’s house goes by way too quickly. And suddenly, he’s knocking on the door and the right words are still beyond him. A slow build up seems ideal. Perhaps on a full stomach the reveal will hit easier. Once they are happy and cuddled together on the couch. Maybe. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But all that goes out the window when Alex opens the front door and Michael’s nerves get the best of him. He opens his mouth to say hello but what comes out instead is, ‘I have a secret. And you need to sit down.’

#malex #malex fic #cosmic clowns cpa

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

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Married at first sight part three

summary: Eddie and Richie’s first dinnerparty, meeting the other couples

A/N: this is a part three, I hope you enjoy it. Again this was based on mafs Australia, so I don’t know if this is how it goes in all the variants of the show. Please let me know what you think!

@impalagurl67

The night of the first dinner party , it’s surprisingly Richie that’s more stressed. Eddie had expected him to be the voice of reasons, as he usually was, but no, It’s Eddie’s turn to keep his head cool.

This time though, Richie was working himself up badly, even having resorted to asking Eddie more than a few times if his outfits were alright.

Eddie was nervous too, but he was trying to hide it, so it wouldn’t become a cycle and cause Richie to obsess even more.

when he reentered the living room for a fifth time, wearing yet again something else then before, Eddie rolled his eyes in annoyance. ‘You look great Richie, don’t fret so much.’

Richie looked up at Eddie in surprise, as if he was expecting Eddie to lie and say that he looked hideous. Eddie knew that Richie wasn’t too comfortable with the way he looked, even though he had no idea how he was unable to see himself the way Eddie saw him.

Still, little things like this reminded Eddie that no matter how irrational, Richie felt that way, and Eddie would spend every day he could to help change his mind.

‘I don’t lie to you now do I? You told me yourself. I’m like a prissy old woman who will complain to your manager regardless of any excuses, I will not hold back’, Eddie tries his best to imitate Richie’s voice, but he fails flat. Impressions are mostly Richie’s thing, not his.

After a few weeks of living together however, they started to rub off on each other. Eddie was less aware of the camera pointed at his face at all times and was more prone to step out of his comfort zone. Excpet the parts where he had to look straight into the camera and give his commentary about an event that happened, that was not his thing at all. While Richie in turn had developed a habit of cleaning up after himself, purely because he knew it annoyed Eddie.

Sometimes it felt like Eddie’s heart would burst out of his chest with emotion. The, dare he use the word, love that consumed him from top to bottom when he thought of his husband, was something he had never felt before. He hadn’t even been aware that such a feeling could exist.

If you had asked Eddie a year before the whole experiment and meeting Richie how he would respond to such an intents emotion, he would have responded with panic.

Something changed though, and the fact that he was in love with a man didn’t make him feel like he would throw up anymore. and it was not just any man, it was Richie, and Eddie was starting to get the idea that by only hearing his name, whatever negative emotion still lingered, ebbed away like the sea did at night.

His only request was that he find a way to explain that all to Richie himself. Eddie is not good with words, he knows that and thanks to his friends and Richie it’s something he’s working on, yet it’s still so difficult to open his mount and vocalize the feelings their close proximity was providing, even after having spend a long time period cooped up in a small hotel room.

That and the fact that Eddie was still unsure about their relationship. He was desperate not to get his heart broken, even with the brave face he was putting on, and the endless stream of insults Richie laughed away every single time, he was a sensitive man by heart.

They had a lot of things in common, that was for sure, from the way the both of them were stubborn as hell, to the place they grew up, but there were also a lot of differences, Eddie couldn’t help but take notice off. Richie was loud and unbothered by the amount of space he took up. In fact, he seemed to thrive under the attention from others, whilst Eddie tended to shy away from the focus of others. It made sense that Richie liked that sort of thing, seeing as he was famous for capturing people’s attention during shows, but Eddie didn’t think it would be that present in their everyday lives.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, he understands Richie more than Richie himself might peg him for, and he remembers what he said on their first night together, about how he was scared that people would forget about him. And Eddie understands that, a little, for he was also really scared that he would be left with nobody if he didn’t stick around by his mother, they just handle their fears differently.

The outgoing personality of Richie, versus the wanting-to-be-invisible in public personality from Eddie caused enough reasonable doubt in Eddie that they might not match with one another.

Eddie wondered if any of the other couples had the same problems. Although it was mostly Richie who was fearing the dinner party, Eddie wasn’t completely reassured either. He knew that he would compare himself to the others, as soon as he laid eyes on them. It had always been that way for him, even since he was a child. His diseases his mother claimed he had, already resulted in him being different from everyone else, and so he did whatever he could to make sure he mirrored his peers for everything else.

But This was a different situation, one where there were no standard responses, no right way of doing things, no guides to gently angle them in the right direction. So far, Eddie and Richie had been in their own bubble, in which they did everything in their own pace, but Eddie was certain that as soon as he saw the others, he would try to mold his relationship to appear like theirs.

At least, that was how he would normally act. The determination clogging every vein is his body was trying very hard to keep stealthy, to not follow his mother for the so manieth time.

He didn’t tell Richie any of his worries, as he was always venting about how hard it was for him to be on the show, and he refused to give Richie any doubts about them. Even when Richie had never been anything but kind and patient with him.

‘Yeah yeah you’re right Spaghetti. If you think I’m hot, then I’m sure your mom will feel the same, and if she feels the same, then I feel the same too.’

The glare Eddie shot Richie did nothing to stop the thunderous laugh that Richie let free, but Eddie cared less about that than he would ever admit. When Richie laughed, the dark clouds that clouded Eddie’s vision would evaporate for a few moments, making it the highlights of his day.

Not that there were many downs in the first place.

‘Come om Rich, if we don’t leave now, we might be late. I cannot, I repeat cannot be late on the first day of meeting these people. If we were to leave now, we would definitely not be the first, which is great because I am not prepared to having to sit there and wait and pretend to be comfortable and like the both of us haven’t been worrying about this for days, even though this fucking dress shirt is cutting of my air supply and that’s going to be really tricky.’ Eddie sucked in a huge breath of air, another Kaspbrak rant coming to end.

‘But if we’re the last, then everyone will already have met each other and stare at us like we’re fucking clowns in a circus when we go in.’ After a pause where there is no response, Eddie hastily adds, ‘so I’d like to leave now please.’

Okay so maybe it’s not just Richie that’s a little bit stressed.

His eyes flung up to meet Richie’s, the position making Richie appear bigger and larger than he already was compared to him when standing up. Richie was sporting a smile on his face, a real one, not the fake obnoxiously large one he used when a fan came up to him to try out a joke and it fell flat, and he wasn’t heartless enough to not laugh. The real smiles caused Eddie’s heart to stop for a moment, a beat where every atom in his body was purely focused on Richie, before realizing, oh hey we can look at this gorgeous man whenever we want, let’s get back keeping Eddie alive so he can.

‘I’m so glad they matched me with you’, is what Richie said after a few moments. Eddie can’t help but throwing a smile shyly his way, accepting the hand extended to him to slot their hand together.

‘Sap’ Eddie murmured under his breath, but inconspicuously inching closer to Richie’s side as they left their apartment, and entered the car.

As always, Richie opened the car door, letting Eddie slide in first. When he walked across the car, getting in on the other side, Eddie allowed himself a moment to check Richie out. He ended up wearing a yellow Hawaiian shirt with jeans, which wasn’t anything fancy but it was Richie, and that was more than enough.

Looking down the inspect his own clothing, Eddie figured he was a bit overdressed. He had decided on wearing a cardigan that was just on the side of too tight, with cufflinks, he also wore a dress pants, in a warm beige.

Now he was starting to feel self-conscious. However, Richie told him that he looked good, and Eddie convinced himself that that was all that mattered.

The car ride itself didn’t last very long, which Eddie lucked out in, for car rides seamed to increase his anxiety levels. Luckily Richie held his hand the entire way there, not even thinking of letting go. No words were able to describe how much Eddie loved him for it.

‘Do you think there will be other gay couples?’ Eddie asks after he sees Richie squirm in his seat for the third time in ten minutes. It’s not a thought he had spend much time thinking about, but it was an important one. He did not want to deal with a homophobe at all.

Patients wasn’t something Eddie accumulated with Richie at first, everything about Richie screamed inpatient, but when it came to dealing with Eddie, Richie never pressured him into anything. Which meant that they had only started holding hands only a two days prior, and the both of them were still searching how and when hand holding was appreciated and when not.

Richie shrugged. ‘I don’t know, but if there aren’t, I’ll turn all those hetero’s gay when they look at me.’

Eddie laughed, despite his best efforts not too. ‘Besides, even if they suck, they can’t be worse than the bullies from my hometown.’

A scowl formed on Eddie’s forehead, thinking back to the story’s Richie had trusted upon him about his childhood. Part of him hoped that those assholes were dead in a ditch somewhere.

‘I wouldn’t let them do anything to you Rich.’ Eddie promised with his whole heart, however wanted to hurt Richie now, was going to have to go through him.

He completely missed the look of pure adoration Richie shot him, too busy thinking of ways to respond should anyone feel the need to comment on the fact that they were gay.

Eddie, as usual, was right. They were not the first, but thankfully, they were not the last either. Two couples were seated side by side and a large sofa in the middle of the room, all of them sporting a drink in their hands.

The table were the drinks were presented on, was placed in the right corner behind the couch, and Richie had already decided what drink he would be ingesting later, before he even took a good look at the contestants.

Eddie shouldn’t have worried, since there were three men, and only one woman, meaning that there were at least two other gay lovers. He walked towards the woman first, as she had already stood up, her arms opened in a loving gesture, and enveloped him as soon as he was within reach. It was then that Eddie noticed that he still had Richie’s hand clasped in his, and disappointment made it’s presence when Eddie was forced to let go in order to hug her.

‘I’m Beverly, but you can me Bev.’

Her voice sounded like honey felt; warm and mushy, and Eddie liked her before he even got a change to truly get to know her. A flash of excitement washed over him. He had been so worried, but he hadn’t considered the possibility that it could be fun to meet people who maybe had the same problems as him.

He moved over to what he assumed was her husband, a strong ridiculously good looking man, wo also gave him a hug, and told him his name was Ben. If Richie didn’t have the entirety of Eddie’s heart, and Ben would be gay, damn straight Eddie would go for him.

When Eddie turned to greet the other two man, he overheard the conversation between Richie and Beverly.

‘Aren’t you that famous comedian, Trasmount Tozier?’

‘Why yes I am my fair lady, hey Eds you hear that, somebody recognizes me.’

Eddie ignored him, though the urge to roll his eyes was very persistent. The other man gniffled, introducing himself as William, Bill Denbrough. Then the man lovingly gestured at his partner while stepping back into his side as soon as he could, letting the other man introduce himself as Mike Hanlon.

They seemed right for each other, their general aura and vibe shining through in just the way they wordlessly followed the others lead. When they glanced at one another, they both inconspicuously tried to pretend that they were not looking, and it was awful for Eddie to feel relieved by that, but he did. It showed that it wasn’t just him and Richie that were a bit timid.

Ben and Beverly seemed like the sweetest pair of people anyone could ever meet. Especially Ben. He was good looking sure, but his biggest attribute was the kindness he showed, to Beverly but also to everyone else. He seemed like the type of person who could never hate anyone, despite what they may have done to him. Bev appeared to be sweet as well, but Eddie could tell that she was also fiery, and that you shouldn’t try to double cross her, or you might end up in trouble. He suspected that he would get along with her great.

They offered them a drink, a glass of champagne which they insisted that they drank, and because Eddie didn’t want to seem stuck up, he took it and sipped little bits of it. Richie and him sat together on a different sofa, as close as humanly possible. They had just plopped down when the door opened again, and another man and woman made an appearance.

They both looked as cool and collected as any person could be, in particular the man, but they seemed kindhearted too.

They came up to Richie first, Eddie cringed when Richie pulled the man close into an embrace, he was however pleasantly surprised when man caustically returned the hug. ‘My name is Stanley’, he said while moving over to Eddie.

A chorus of ‘hey Stanley’ was heard throughout the room, followed by a ‘hi Patty’, when the woman introduced herself. They too were given a glass of champagne, right after they chose the seat next to Eddie and Richie.

To everyone’s surprise, Richie and Stan hit it off straight away. Richie would do whatever he could to provoke Stan, as he always did with Eddie, and Stan would give deadpan answers, causing the whole group to burst out in laughter.

The jealousy Eddie figured he would experience never made an appearance, for Richie kept his hand on Eddie’s thigh the entirety of the evening, and all it made Eddie feel was supported.

They discovered they all grew up in Derry Maine, which was odd, since they were all around the same age yet they had never seen each other around at school. They wrote it off as a weird coincidence, and Eddie tried to occupy his mind from overthinking it. A nagging feeling in the back of his head seemed to tauntingly tell him something. Yet he couldn’t figure it out.

Al in all the night went amazing. By the end of the event, Eddie was sure he had 7 new friends, and that no matter what happened, they would remain that way after the experience.

With these people, he was not the odd one out, everyone of them was different, but everyone also fit in. They all had experiences that differed from the other, but they also all fit in perfectly.

Each one of them had their own crosses to bare, in their relationship but also in their personal life. Eddie trusted them enough to tell them about his mom, or he would have if the camera’s weren’t there.

Ben was insecure because he had been a bit chubbier as a kid, and he constantly felt like his partners deserved better than him.

Beverly had a horrifying experience with her dad, even though she was hesitant and didn’t say what, only revealing that she had trust issues.

Stanley dealt with some mental health issues, that were still lingering through in his every day life.

Patty had family members who were going through the same things as Stan, so she was very protective.

The death of his little brother had been a traumatic event that defined most of Bill’s young and adult life, but he was trying hard to move past it.

Mike’s parents were killed during a fire, and loneliness was his best friend because of it for years.

Eddie’s breathing got a bit easier with the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one who was a little out of the ordinary.

When Richie and Eddie made their way back home, holding hands like they had been doing throughout the event, Eddie’s view on their future, got a little lighter. The conversation he had helped him put things into perspective, and with newfound courage, Eddie couldn’t wait to continue their journey.

#reddie #reddie fluff #married at first sight #adult reddie #reddie imagine #it chapter two imagine #it chapter 2 #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack

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