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#knock on wood I’ll finish the part I’m working on soon-ish.
siblingshuffle · 4 months
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Sibling Shuffle Lore Facts
Heyyy
Sorry it’s been a little while longer than usual
I haven’t had a lot of time to work on The Darkman Problem (it IS still coming) but I feel a little bad that it’s taking so long when it’s ultimately like 3 panels that I just haven’t had much time to work on. I’ve got time right now, so it should be coming really soon, but, uh… yeah.
Anyway, have some lore in the meanwhile!
Rock has a room at Light Labs. He doesn’t stay often or for very long, but it means something to Rock that they have it at all. 
Roll knows how to roller-skate. Kalinka has been trying to teach her how to ice skate any time one of them visits the other. (They’re also ((kinda)) pen-pals for most of the year! And by that I mean they send frequent emails to one another.)
Tango has done that thing that cats do where they lay across your computer keys. To literally everyone at Light Labs. On many occasions. 
Bass is barred entry from every arcade and bowling alley in the city , following The Incident™️. He’s actually pretty proud, seeing this as an accomplishment.
Tempo lets Rhythm do her hair sometimes while she reads off memes or Reddit stories she thinks Rhythm would find funny.
Time Keeps Slipping still happens in this universe. Here, Blues was sent back to the lab after realizing he was running at like 12% battery (since he got that "weird/sometimes-painful sensation" in his left arm, and he usually gets that more often when he’s at a lower charge). That’s when he was stopped and taken by Oil Man, though, meaning Blues was exhausted and honestly not feeling too great for that arc.
Piano has a theory that Wily might have gotten her and Bass's IC chips mixed up while making them, but has too big of an ego to admit this mistake. She has one of those cork boards with pictures and red string all over about it. (Bass doesn’t really care.)
Beat can be carried like a basketball under one arm. This is usually when he’s in recharge mode (in which he can slide his wings inside of his body, thus letting him be carried like that more easily).
Power-saving mode will gradually disable non-essential functions in a Robot Master the closer they are to 0%, such as the ability to speak or eye-screens lighting up. They might move a bit slower than if they were functioning at 100% charge, and behave as though tired. Power-saving mode activates automatically in Robot Masters that find themselves at 20% charge or below.
Dr. Light and Dr. Wily both have “worlds best dad” mugs. The difference is, Light’s mug was a Father’s Day gift, and Wily bought the mug for himself.
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deluluass · 4 years
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misericordia
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It's finally here T^T Here's to reaching 100+ followers! Thank you so much everyone!!
Content Warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; somnophilia; description of dead bodies; includes some elements of cosmic horror; dystopian-ish au; biblical references/imagery; angel! Ushijima
To name is a barren tree: fruitless and, ultimately, the workings of this kind.
  The earth will soon be without form, and void; and darkness shall remain the face of the deep. 
  The Spirit of God no longer moves in the face of the waters. 
  Names are for nothing.
  But, for any cause done here, to name is essential. As it was in the beginning, when there was still a beginning (but it has not ended yet, so the beginning shall still stay), to name had been the first task.
  So when asked for a name, the mouth was able to conjure:
  “Ushijima Wakatoshi,” the body said. 
  And as it is the way of the Created, the body became he.
  And as it is the way of the Created, proof was immediately demanded for the name. 
  And as it is the way of the Created, once found on the chest, Ushijima Wakatoshi was then welcomed. 
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  You weren’t there when the world ended. 
  In fact, so, too, was your father's father. The sky had cracked open and the oceans had already split up the old lands for as long as anyone could remember. 
  Before the city became a city in truth, the people had just been strangers, seeking shelter after everything fell apart, only to be abandoned by those who’d promised protection.
  That didn't mean, however, that things got better for your lot once someone swept in and established order and peace and stability and whatever it is those at the top had to say to justify them being there. 
  If your father were to be believed, you had been sleeping in your mother’s womb, still a tiny beating heart, when the longest winter happened ("winter"; they still called it that when there had been minute differences between hot and cold).
  Supplies were short; food was scarce; so when you finally clawed your way into a world breathing its last, your mother couldn't help but bleed into the sheets until your cry outlived hers. 
  But your father barely recognized you  during his final days. That’s why when your neighbors call you a liar for saying “I was born on a Spring,” you shrug it off and think you might as well have been born on a Spring. 
  There’s no way of knowing. The story had always changed every time you asked him. 
  Sometimes he blamed you, sometimes he told you it’s not your fault. Nothing you could do about it. Spring it is, then; you told yourself. 
  Spring always looked so... different, in the drawings Granny made, anyway.
  No one here actually knows her age. Granny had always been Granny; as permanent to this place as the walls enclosing the city.
  She rarely left her quarters, that crone, and could barely stand on her own without your help. Worse, she could no longer see. What use is a blind artist, the others would laugh. 
  It’s their loss, you’d retort, mocking her like that. Because then they’d miss the way her gnarled and knobby hands would glide with unwavering purpose if you asked her to, strokes bold and not a space wasted.
  “You never learn,” she croaked once finished, jostling the wrinkled piece of paper to your lap. “Why throw away your rations for this piece of junk?”
  Granny retched, “Incurable fool.”
  At this point, she would grumble about suffering in the old pig’s (her words, not yours) kitchens for nothing, and always, without fail, you’d feel a smile break on your face. It hurt, honestly, but after an entire day of frowning over the dishes you had to wash and the floors that needed scrubbing and all the other orders yelled your way, it was worth it, anyway.
  “I know you’re laughing. My ears still work, mind you.”
  You felt your belly shake as you giggled, brushing the paper with worn fingers, staring open-mouthed at the piece before you.
  “This is amazing, Granny,” you sighed.
  “Idiot,” she repeated. “It’s the same thing as the one before. And the one before that.”
  And for good measure, Granny added, “Idiot. Not like you hadn’t seen that one.”
  When all you’d done was take her hand in yours and place a pack of food along with a thin roll of paper in her feeble grasp, Granny finally asked, “Why do you keep coming back here, girl? Asking for the same thing.”
  There wasn’t any of that surly frown now. 
  And looking at her like that, without the crabbiness that sharpens her features, that oddly makes her look younger and in control of herself, you find that you don’t have an answer this time. Arrested by the realization that her shoulders slumped lower than you’d thought. And that she’s getting thinner. 
  “Why?” you whispered back, feeling traces of charcoal stick to your palm.
  Maybe it’s because there’s no other way that she’d accept food, unless she does something in return. She kicked you out the first time you intended to give her the ration you’d earned.
  (Or maybe it's because you know what they'd do, once they find out she's no longer making trades.)
  Why, indeed. 
  Maybe it’s because you hadn’t really seen things grow before. 
  You might work at the Governor’s place, at the heart of the city and everything else that matters, but grunt workers like you are prohibited to get anywhere near the farm, let alone actually enter it. So, really, there's no other way of seeing what growth looks like.
  Maybe it’s because you can only do that when you witness her in her craft. You really don’t have anything to compare it with, but you’re sure life from soil works the same way. 
  Everything must come from something.  And that something must be quite the artist, if they're anything like Granny. 
  Birthing roots from the ground of what was once a blank piece of paper with a flick of the wrist; growing into large trunks, strong branches, then into an abundance of leaves and blossoms. 
  Trees drawn on both sides of the paper, always with a smattering of grass and flowers in the middle. She said they used to grow here, when she was just a girl. And if you begged hard enough, she’d add a stray butterfly fluttering around the corner. 
  You hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I just love seeing you, Granny,” you grinned.
  “Crock of shit.”
  “Really!” You grabbed your knapsack as you stood from your seat, folding the paper with care. “Hey, Granny, guess what? Don’t give me that face— I’ve already saved just enough and you know what that means?”
  She snorted. 
  “Listen,” you pouted. “I’ll finally be able to get those pigments! I heard they don't cost that much and if I trade next-”
  “Don’t.”
  She tilted her head and faced your way, misty eyes pinning you. "How much does paper cost you?"
  You gulped. 
  Then, with a swiftness that surprised you, she grabbed you by your tattered sleeve and gritted, “I may be the blind one here, but I think I see a lot more clearly than you do. You can sweat and bleed for those pigments, but I will never paint.”
  You felt a sting in your eyes as she continued, “I know what you’re doing. And I’d be the greater fool if I let you work yourself to the bone for some pipe dream."
  "Content yourself with coal, girl. That’s all you’re gonna get from this place. Dirt and rust and smoke. Go sneak into that damned farm. Go steal some of those fuckers’ riches. In fact, while you’re at it,” she laughed dryly. “Steal them all and run away from here. If you really want to live.”
  “Only,” she said, too soft that you had to sit back down to hear her, “Only, stop hoping, my child.”
  Her chest wheezed as she breathed, like air passing through the holes of a rundown machine. 
  You kissed the back of her hand before you left. 
  The wind howled and threatened to topple you as you walked back to your building, hard rain slapping you across the face when you picked up into a run. They didn’t descend in small drops anymore. As you get older, thunderstorms are to be expected once evening falls, lingering for weeks only to suddenly bring about an irritatingly humid day. 
  But tonight, the large cavern above that parts the dark, heavy clouds into opposite streams seem to yawn wider, closing itself lower and lower into the earth that you swore someday it’ll devour the city whole.
  Mud water in your boots, you grabbed onto your soaked coat and climbed the steps of the decaying piece of slab you call home, mindful that you won’t slip and break your skull against the thick beams, twisted metal jutting out of the corners.
  A solitary lamp flickered through the window of the room next to yours. Little Soo-jin must be having nightmares again, you thought with a frown. 
  You were about to knock on their door when the sirens blared, echoing louder across the city than the boom of lightning, followed by a grating squeal that could only be an opening gate. 
  Your knuckle froze over the chipped wood.
  The last time the alarm rang, the people were greeted by the body of a young council member, brought by a small and wounded troop who’d accompanied him outside the city. 
  Soo-jin’s mom peered through the murky window, meeting your eyes after both of you stared into the direction of the gate closest to your zone, as if seeking you for an explanation. You only gave her a shrug.
  “Someone must have died,” you said.
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    “No, he’s not dead. That’s why you’re bringing food to his room, aren’t you?”
  You stared at the girl stubbornly shaking her head. 
  “I- I know, but! Didn’t you hear? They said they found him full of bullet holes and I—”
  “Even if you’re serving a rotting corpse, as long as Cook orders it, you follow.”
  It was admirable that she’s refused for this long. If it were you, you’d have been sacked the moment you opened your mouth to say no. You wiped your hand with the towel next to the sink, having finished the work assigned to you, and watched the ongoing bout in the kitchen.
  “Why can’t you just ask the others? Marga’s not doing anything!”
  “Marga,” the older woman hissed, “is with the others. Almost everyone is in the meeting room. So if you don’t take your butt up there, I’m gonna have no other choice but to tell Cook.”
  You winced. This can’t be good.
  You cleared your throat. “I can do it,” you said.
  The tray was shoved to you faster than you can drop your raised hand. You would have found it amusing, considering that you’re sure they couldn’t even recognize you, but the idea of being in the same room with a half-alive man does make you feel uneasy. 
  Not that it’s anything new for you; you nursed your father until the fever took him, after all. You just haven’t lived long enough to get used to it yet. But you steeled yourself and did your job, because it’s not as if you had any choice. 
  You prepared yourself for anything as you entered one of the many guest chambers. Bullet holes, rotting corpse, entrails held together by stitches. 
  And when you announced your presence and gripped the tray tighter so as to not spill the soup on the sprawling carpet, it’s not really surprise that caused you to stumble upon your words when you saw the man sitting on the bed.
  It’s more of an embarrassment, of sorts. 
  You must’ve entered the wrong room, you thought. You immediately checked around  to make sure no one saw you talk and almost grovel to an actual sculpture. 
  Because that’s what he was. 
  The Governor’s estate houses floors and floors of rooms that you hadn't explored yet. But there was one that, if no one would bother to keep track of the workers, you had the habit of sneaking into. 
  Thinking about what it took for this family to have all those sculptures there hurt your head, so you stopped a long time ago. You chose, instead, to just admire the marble wonders in all their beauty, always looking back down at you with majesty and pride. 
  Just as he's doing right now. 
  Chiseled torso wrapped in bandages; sharp jaw that could cut; eyes the color of olives, gazing deep.
  "That is for me."
  You snapped your head down. 
  "Huh- uh, yes? Yes!" 
  His deep voice still rumbled through you. 
  "Yes, I'm sorry," you muttered, heat rushing to your face as you placed the tray on the table next to him, inflaming when you realized he didn't mean it as a question.
  That is for me. 
  Not a question. A question means you can answer. His words brooked no other response but obedience, reminding you of your place.
  Much like those sculptures, every time  you'd spent too much time inside the room and you'd get the feeling that you're not supposed to be there, too filthy to be anywhere near what you think is the closest thing to perfection. 
  And the truth would settle on you like a heavy weight: that no amount of beauty can ever breathe warmth if it cannot live and grow. 
  The same way that despite the sunshine filtering through the floor to ceiling windows, surrounding him in blinding light as he sat on the bed, you can't shake the impression that this is the coldest this room has ever been, with him here. 
  So you anticipated his orders; a single word or maybe a glance that would tell you he wants you gone. Just either one of those and you'd run out of this room in a heartbeat. 
  But neither came. The man (you still didn't know his name) remained silent, staring at the food like they've insulted him specifically, and now he's questioning the collective audacity of the soup, bread, and bowl of fruits laid before him. 
  Maybe they don't serve those where he came from. He's from the North, after all, made evident by the small eagle etched on his chest, just above a pectoral. The last visiting Northerner you served who also bore that mark threw a rag at you (she missed) for "mixing the bathing oils incorrectly."
  You stayed in your position and asked, "Is the food not to your liking?"
  He didn't say anything, but he did shift his attention to you.
  And what a mistake that was. How does this man go about life with such a severe presence?
  "Er..is something..wrong?" you sweated, suddenly fascinated by the vases behind him. 
  Glaring back at the food, he answered with a deep "no" and breathed out. His large arms rose and fell along with it, straining the bandages around the muscles.
  Oh, right. Right.
  You perked up. "Do you need help?"
  Stepping closer to the table, you gave him a tightlipped smile and a sheepish "excuse me" before taking the spoon in your hand. 
  You scooped a thick serving of soup, your palm hanging under it, and waited.
  And waited. 
  The man looked at you the same way he looked at the bowl of fruits earlier.
  "What are you doing?" he said,  gravel-voiced. 
  You're gonna lose this job.
  Why did you think you could feed him like he's an ailing, decrepit old man? Or a literal child? He's built like he commands an army (and he probably does).
  You are definitely gonna lose this job.
  "I- I'm sorry!" 
  You jerked away, your hip hitting the table, the impact shaking it and causing the plates and silverware to clatter against each other.
  "O-oh no, I'm-" The spoon in your hand fell as you attempted to set things properly, soup spilling to the carpet along with the utensils.
  You're gonna lose this job and you're gonna starve to death.
  "I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" 
  Dropping to your knee like your life depended on it, you picked up the myriad of similar looking spoons and forks and placed them back on the tray. 
  You kept your head downwards, bowing as you'd been repeatedly taught, and shut your eyes tightly. 
  "I thought that you hadn't healed yet and needed help and- and-" you huffed.
  "And I thought that I should feed you but- no-no!" You looked at him and flailed your hands in front of you. "No! I didn't mean feed- I meant- I meant no disrespect please forgive me!"
  Not a word was spoken in that second that spanned an entire year. But just as you'd accepted that the worst has come, he said:
  "Then, feed me."
  Wait.
  Wait, what?
  "I don't.. understand..?"
  "Then, feed me," was what he told you. And so matter-of-factly, at that. 
  So you did, desperate to keep the only thing keeping you alive. 
  Though your hand trembled and you wished to be anywhere but here— even the wasteland waiting outside the gates, with all its unimaginable threats, seemed like paradise —you took a loaf of bread from the basket and brought it closer to his mouth.
  Lines marred his forehead as he chewed. You were about to ask, self-destructive that you are, whether you should get the sweetened roll instead, thinking he found the one in your hand too bland. But you don't have the luxury to risk digging your grave any deeper. 
  You kept quiet and pointedly removed him from your line of sight, choosing to count the tassels hanging off the canopy instead.
  Once he's eaten all that's left of the pastries, you dipped your hand into the bowl of fruits and took a grape in-between your fingers and, as much as you can, you steadied your hand to avoid touching his lips.
  It didn't work. 
  You shuddered at the contact, curling your toes in your boots to avoid squirming. 
  This has got to be the weirdest day of your entire life.
  Not a hint of unease was shown. He continued to close his plump lips around the tip of your fingers and crushed the fruits with pointed canines, making the hair on your body stand on end. What if he bites you? Would you bleed?
  The man seemed to like them more than bread. A sense of urgency rose within you as he went through the berries and sliced mangoes like this is the first time he's had them.
  Can't say you blame him. The last time you ate something that resembled a fruit, a real fruit, was when Granny persuaded (coerced) a young boy in her complex to steal one from his employer. That boy has a child of his own now. 
  You felt your mouth water, your stomach growl and command that you take the bowl from him and shovel its contents to your mouth, as you watched him devour the sweet and tangy meat, the smell of it sickening as it is strangely compelling.
  He raised his head and met your eyes.
  Shit. 
  The apples, you thought as you looked back down to the tray. They're the only ones left soaking in the bowl, those apples. After this you'd be out of this stuffy room and you'd laugh about this later with Soo-jin and her mom and Granny too if she's not cranky.
  You could still feel him staring at you as you fed him a slice, the apple crisp when he took a bite. 
  Juice trickled down your hand, the sticky extract tickling your arm as it slid to the crook of your elbow, and you were about to wipe it with your other hand, when you felt a wet tongue probe the gap between your fingers.
  You gasped. "Sir..!" 
  You stepped away. Tried to, anyway, but with a firm hand, a hand that's not injured, after all, he gripped your wrist and continued to suck a digit. 
  "This is- sir!" struggling out of his hold, you pleaded with him to let go, please sir let me go, even as he only looked at you, his eyes dimming when he grabbed your waist to bring you closer. 
  He licked your hand, lapping at the trail the juice left behind, and when you thought he would release you, he took your hand to pluck another slice from the bowl. 
  Your legs gave up beneath you, forcing you to sit on his stretched lap, his hard body scorching you through the sheets, as he ate the apple from your palm, slurping the leftovers dripping from it. 
  "Don't cry," Granny told you once.
  "Especially when you feel like crying," she said. "Don't cry."
  You'd never really been good at listening, but now, you decided to suck in your breath and keep those tears at bay. You can cry and laugh about all this later.
  Because you might be jobless after this, but you will certainly have a damn good story to tell over the fire once you finished kneeing him in the nuts.
  So: one.
  Breathe.
  His teeth scraped your soaked hand.
  Two.
  You rested your hand on his shoulder.
  Three.
  You braced your leg, moving it between his thick thighs, and then, as you clutched his bandages, you—
  "Ushijima-sama."
  The door swung open.
  "Pardon the intrusion, but the Council members requested-”
  It was Secretary Hara.
  “Oh."
  Secretary Hara: a lanky, dark haired man with glasses who's always at the Governor's beck and call. He was here, carrying a small stack of papers, and gaping at the scene before him.
  You and the esteemed guest. Who's still suckling at your skin. On the bed. 
  He grinned, full of humor and disgusting. “Well,” he said. 
  At least you weren't crying.
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  A question, shared only by the Heavens, began when the Lord fashioned the flesh out of the dust of the ground and said,"You are made in My image and likeness."
  It was not their way, before that: to question. (One of them did, once, but that is a different story). 
  They have no need for questions.
  They hold the highest seat, below only to the Creator, unencumbered by the trappings of the earth.
  They have no need for questions.
  So it remained unasked, lingering in fragments in the House of the Lord.
  The question comes to him now.
  For the flesh is a cage. It is ephemeral and prone to decay.
  It is fitting for this kind to have it, with all their qualities bound to the material world.
  You are the very epitome of these.
  Graceless. Stumbling like a newborn foal. Too many apologies. Too many questions.
  God is not here, he thinks as you insist on asking what does not matter.
  “Is the food not to your liking?” and “Is something wrong?” and “Do you need help?”
  Indecisive, too. Reneging on your promises. You said you’d feed him and then you said you wouldn’t.
  Ushijima Wakatoshi is a mere flesh, locking inside divinity your kind would never understand. Yet he felt its tedious demands gnaw at him when he saw you. Something so impermanent should have no right for constant sustenance. 
  But he knows, just for this time, that he needs it. That’s why he tells you to feed him, as you said you would. After all, it is your way to serve. And, for all your many inadequacies, God has granted you bread and water and fruit to sate your appetites. 
  Thus, for as long as he is flesh, he will do as it tells him to. 
  When it urged for the taste of fruit, for the cloying sweetness of its juice, it is only right that he heeded its call and had his fill. 
  How dare you object. His light is brighter than yours; God has granted it so (and yet you were given the will that they never had). And even in flesh you are beneath him. You are easily held and defeated.
  The ache in his belly did not cease, each gulp he took heightening his senses, shouting for more, more, more as he took you with his tongue. And he realizes that this is what the first of your kind may have felt like when they disobeyed. The first act of betrayal.
  (For what is the wrath of God to the cries of the flesh?)
  And with that, Ushijima Wakatoshi finds, since donning this useless flesh, that it is not at all easy to gratify. 
  Not in the least.
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    There are so many rules in this mansion that even Cook’s effort to batter them on your head could sometimes be futile, given that their number is just as big as this place. But, there is one, among all the convoluted and at times nonsensical decrees, that you are not allowed to forget: 
  Unless you’re among the core staff, you can never enter the East Wing. 
  The East Wing is where all the important things happen, see. It goes without saying that someone as lowly as you cannot pollute that hallowed ground.
  Today seems to be an exception.
  When Cook barked that Secretary Hara wanted you in the East Wing first thing in the morning, you had a feeling that you just might not live to see the next day.
  You didn't speak unless spoken to. You didn't look unless told to. The things you should've done much earlier.
  "How are you liking the work here so far?" 
  Secretary Hara pushed the pen to the side and leaned back against the leather swivel chair. 
  "It's a job," you mumbled, to which he only replied with a breathless chuckle. You didn't see the point in bootlicking any further. Besides, Granny hated that the most; so you avoided doing it as much as you can.
  There's only one conclusion for you here, anyway. No matter how severe the punishment. And it's back in your room, with a uniform that needs sewing for a job that you no longer have.
  He tapped his fingers against the lacquered table. "You're right," he said. "Work is work. Despite your place in this society."
  You wanted to roll your eyes. Secretary Hara has never been any of the workers' favorites (not that any of you had your "favorites," but if you could, you avoided this guy). He had this astonishing effect, too, in which he can actually bring people together. All because everyone hated him.
  He's a slimeball, is what he is. If one needed lessons in kissing ass, he was your man. 
  "Do you know why you're here?"
  You're getting fired. End of story. Now can I please just go? is what you want to say. But losing your job doesn't usually take this much time and attention. Normally, it was Cook who'd grunt "You're out" and that was it.
  So you shake your head.
  "I'm promoting you," he said. "Congratulations."
  Somewhere, beneath that condescending smile of his, is a punchline that you're sure he's deliberately keeping from you. Just so he can be the only one who gets to laugh.
  "I-" You balled your hand to a fist. "Why?"
  He scoffed. "What are they teaching you in that rathole? Honestly."
  They taught me not to be rude to people I don't know, you little bitch.
  "Drop the coy act, it's okay," he sneered. "It's cheap and it won't work on me."
  Oh, now you really want to get fired. If only to kick his teeth in. "That man," Secretary Hara continued. "Ushijima Wakatoshi. You were all over him and you seriously don't know who he is?"
  You gritted. "Secretary Hara, what happened- it wasn't- I didn't want it."
  But he only gave you that look. As if to say, "Sure. Let's go with that." When it'd pass and the need to pummel him became stronger, he stood up and stepped towards the tapestry draped against the wall.
  It was a map, the city a pinprick on the corner. Secretary Hara faced it, dusting the spotless surface, his back to you.
  "Ever wonder what keeps us here?" he started, hand still on the map. "This city of ours?"
  "The," you licked your lips. Where was he going with this? "The river..?"
  Secretary Hara clapped his hands, his voice lilting like he's talking to a toddler as he said, "That's right. That's good. Excellent."
  "So you do know some things, after all." His fingers crawled towards the long line of blue stitched beside the city. "And do you wonder what would happen if, say, that river begins to dry?"
  You felt your eyes widen. You covered your mouth with a palm. 
  You're not supposed to know this. Why is he telling you this?
  He scratched the thick clump of blue thread and continued, "These great cities. They have their energy; their military." 
  Your eyes followed his hand, moving farther and farther away from the pallid brown surrounding your city, towards the bright yellow West, stopping at the bright green East. "Some of them are blessed enough to not be surrounded by a literal desert."
  Then, with a careful hand, he moved to the very top and said, "And the North…the North has it all."
  The North was a sprawling, intricate web of threads, eating away the entire tapestry. 
  "The Ushijima clan rules the North. Much longer than this city has existed. And they’re so engrossed in their wars that they’d never glance our way if we don't give them at least half of what we make,” he spat. “These great people haven’t had contact with us in years."
  Secretary Hara finally turned around, grin still in place. "But now one of them owes his life to us." He walked back to his desk, sitting on its edge. "Perhaps the heavens sent him here."
  When you remained silent and looked at him with eyes that you wished had the ability to kill, because you know now what they wanted from you, Secretary Hara only shrugged.
  "He asked for your name, actually," he said, tilting his head. "Lucky you. He didn't bother to learn ours."
  You stood your ground. "No, sir," you said. "I won't."
  He pulled a thin piece of paper from a pile sitting next to him. "You're not gonna do much," he said as he began to read. "Just show him around the city. Be his friend."
  Friend. 
  "But I- No. I can't." You stepped forward. "Please." 
  He looked away from the paper. "Zone 42. Room 0312."
  "What.."
  "Granny," he said. "That's what you call her, isn't it?"
  No.
  "They say that for a blind old lady she's still somehow miraculously trading to keep a roof over her head."
  Phantom touches crept to your arm, slick and nauseating like cold sweat.
  "You must take it from her. Though you're not related," he said.  "Apparently, you're so hardworking, you even work the night shift. When you don't have to."
  You released a shaky breath. "I'll..I'll start," you croaked. "I'll start right away, sir." 
  Secretary Hara folded his arms, victory plastered all over his gaunt face.
  "Thank you," he chimed. "I'm glad you understand. It's for your own good too, y'know." 
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  The uniform they gave you chafed against your skin. Tugging at the sleeves did not help, the pristine fabric too coarse and stiff to budge. Your only comfort was the folded paper hidden in your pocket, fading at the edges every time you touched it.
  You have to admit, however, that you did look...well, you did look clean. Not as much as him, though. And not just in the sense that he's out of the bandages now. Last you checked, and that had been a few minutes ago, he was still sporting a couple of scars on his forehead.
  Despite that, you don't have to look behind you to know what's captured the people's attention as you strolled the capital. Or, who, to be exact.
  Some were outright ogling; some happened to glance once and then immediately looked away with a blush; some made the laudable effort to not look. 
  A mirror of what you're doing right now. 
  They gilded him with gold, which is a redundancy if you ever see one. He was wearing the most expensive pigment, something that only the Governor's family could own: a deep violet tunic emblazoned with golden vines, swirling from the middle to the collar; paired with dress pants that you could probably trade for a whole month's worth of food. 
  You kept your distance as you walked in front of him. "Just show him around the city," was what Secretary Hara told you. That didn't mean you had to talk.
  And it's not as if he had any complaints, either. He followed you through the rows of glass houses that adorned Governor's lane, not a word spoken about the sights. 
  Even when you'd attempted to speed through the dizzying streets, he kept his pace, long legs allowing him to stride close to you. By time you'd reached the plaza, you were already out of breath and in need of rest. 
  But you didn’t. 
  You remained standing a few feet away from him, the paper in your hand opened to reveal those great trees and thriving field, as he sat under the gazebo overlooking the square; a place reserved only for council members. 
  The smell of the sweetmeats and oranges in front of him reached your nose (Secretary Hara has a cruel sense of humor, you belatedly realized, when you were handed a bag of food that had a note saying “treat him well”). You fought the itch to cast out what little you’ve had for breakfast.
  Children were playing around the sandbox, the staff of whatever family they belonged to guarding them. In a way, their job wasn’t that different from what you have now. 
  Except, it’s not a child you were threatened to accompany. With the feeling of his gaze burning your nape, it seems like you’re not the one doing the guarding as well. 
  And you didn’t feel every bit like the adult you are when he called your name.
  You felt frighteningly small, as you yielded with a pathetic, “Ushijima-sama.”
  He only looked at you. Those green eyes telling you exactly what he wanted. 
  People are watching. You can’t mess this up.
  “Sir,” you said, hand still in your pocket, that frayed paper your anchor. “It is improper.”
  Irritation swept through him, his sharp features harsher when dissatisfied. But you can’t give up, even though it’s sending a chill down your spine and he seems like he’s about to throttle in broad daylight. (And he doesn’t have to do much, you know. He can crush you with one hand.)
  “Why- why are you here?” you hissed. “R-really?”
  You don’t shut your trap when you have to, girl. That’s your problem.
  “Because- because I’m not gonna be your..thing.” The paper was dampening in your grip. “While you do whatever it is you do, Ushijima,” you huffed. “...sama”
  Ushijima did not blink, his stare unwavering as he turned towards the small crowd strolling below. There’s a part of you that wishes to put yourself in his place, like a king on his throne. What does the view look like from up there? Are the people beneath just multicolored ants moving from afar? 
  “A few of my kind have suddenly sided with yours,” he said. Then, briefly returning his gaze to you, “I had to see what draws them here.” 
  He linked his fingers together. “Before I do what must be done.”
  You stifled a chortle. “Do what must be done” your ass. Does that include harassing people, too? “God only knows,” you whispered.
  “You believe in God.”
  You were the subject of his relentless attention again. You groaned, averting your eyes to a small girl, probably around Soo-jin’s age, who plopped down to create a heap of sand, much to the consternation of her nanny. 
  “No,” you replied in a thin voice. 
  “Why?”
  “I don’t know.” Where is this question coming from? “Always seemed like a lot of work,” you said. 
  The little girl was making a castle. It’s apparent to you now that she has little pail by her side, shovel in her grubby hand. The frill of her dress caught most of the sand as she stacked them atop each other.
  “And I’m pretty sure God has more fun things to do than worry about me,” you added, just because.
  The castle reached her knees when the girl stood up. 
  "God has left," Ushijima said. "A long time ago."
  And then she kicked it. The thing crumbled to a mound, the breeze scattering it back to the sand. 
  You did chuckle this time. The Northerners sure are strange. "Really? Where’d God go?" you hummed, looking up to the sky.
  The sun was blanketed by waves of clouds, as usual. "Somewhere nicer, I hope," you sighed. 
  You closed your eyes and thought of that nicer place. It would have to be far, far away from here. Maybe it would even have those trees that Granny loved.
  "Cherry trees."
  You opened your eyes and gawked at him. 
  He was still gazing at you. 
  "You are attached to it," he told you, like it's nothing; like your heart's not wreaking havoc against your ribs with each word he utters. "On that paper."
  Pulling it out of your pocket, you stumbled to him and unfolded it for him to see. "You-  you know what this is? A 'cherry tree.' That’s what you call it?"
  "Yes." Ushijima's eyes did not leave yours. "That is the name you people have bestowed upon them."
  "Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?"
  You didn't let him answer that because, just like the fool that Granny accused you to be, you took his hand in your trembling one and laughed, somehow managing to drag him out of the gazebo.
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  It took a while before you finally let go.
  Much has changed along the way, he felt this as the air grew hotter; the sound of bustling people louder and less constrained with inutile mortal etiquette. You seemed less wary of him here. 
  The hand that held his tightly was still brushing against him, as you talked incessantly about the pieces of paper plastered across the wall. They all looked the same, yellowed and infested with mold at the edges, but you insisted otherwise.
  “See here?” You pointed to the one on the bottom. “Granny drew the leaves differently. They look like flowers don’t they? They are, aren’t they? I knew it! So they are flowers.” 
  There was a cot in the corner of the room. He sees you there in slumber, surrounded by rocks and scraps of metal and bits of gemstones held together by strings, each strand hanging on the crevices of the roof, gleaming every time they move. 
  You tapped his arm repeatedly. “Oh, oh. I put these two beside each other. Notice that the shades are different? This one is lighter while this one has more shadows to it.”
  "Do you get it now?" you asked him, expectant. 
  Humans are baffling creatures, Wakatoshi thought. Because when he said nothing, you only laughed (you seem to like doing that) and told him to “follow me; hurry.” You didn’t hold his hand this time (you should’ve, he preferred it when you did).
  “My bad. I hadn’t shown you yet,” you huffed as you grabbed a rag and set aside buckets of rainwater that obstructed his path. 
  Behind a curtain of sackcloth and ashes, draped at the furthest side of the wall, was a crack big enough to let a person through, corroding steel bars protruding along the broken concrete. 
  Wakatoshi ducked to enter the room next to yours. It was hollow, save for bits of gravel and a window obscured by dust. You paced to it then wiped the thick glass with the rag you brought with you.
  “That hill is always there in Granny’s drawings,” you said, taking the paper in your pocket and setting it parallel to the scene revealed by the window. 
  Your smile was wide, as if you were admiring a land lush with vegetation, or wildflowers at least. When it was far from that. It was a vast desolation, beyond the gates and the brown earth fractured. But, just as you said, there is a solitary hill sitting along the horizon.
  “Those trees- cherry trees,” you started, face radiating with mirth. “It’s the same but.. different each time.” Your breathless laugh makes him feel just as winded. “How is that even possible?”
  “I know they can’t be just...green.” A finger traced the outline of the leaves. “Because these are real and they actually grow and- and they change.” And, as if it’s a secret, “Unlike the ones at the capital.”.
  “If only Granny would paint them for me,” you whispered, the smile on those lips waning. 
  Wakatoshi couldn’t stand it. So, he grunted, “You are wrong. This one is green.”
  He took the paper from your hand. “They only change colors once they bloom. White, first. Then, pink.” 
  This knowledge is trivial; if it can be considered knowledge at all. It is a speck in the infinite matters that simply exist— have existed, in this world. Yet such a thing has put that look in your eyes. 
  Perhaps it is not inconsequential at all.
  “Pink?” you breathed, grinning incredulously at him. 
  You turned away and closed your eyes, your voice cracking as you murmured, “I see.”
  There's a blood pumping organ within his chest. A vital piece that keeps you humans alive. It beats constantly, never ceasing. If it does then it means you are dead. He is flesh, for now; it follows that if it halts, then he is fodder for the earth.
  How is it, then, that he is still here? He’s sure he felt it stop, the air knocked out of his lungs, as you looked back at him, eyes welling with tears when you said, “Thank you.”
  Thank you, you told him, smiling.
  Ah. 
  Wakatoshi gets it now.
  This is what God must have seen, when your kind looked up and sang, “I love you, my God; I love you; I love you.” And when you knelt and dared to turn those eyes for others that are not God, he suddenly understands why they were ordered to rain fire and brimstone upon your great kingdoms. 
  Because he, too, would smite anything, burn it to the ground and salt what is left, if it would so much as receive a whit of your sweet, soft words. 
  “They used to grow here,” you sniveled. “Granny said so.”
  “And I thought, maybe if Granny added a bit more color- maybe they'd feel more…I don't know..real..?” Laughter rings in his ears once again, pealing like bells. “Yeah..They'd feel more real...Though, she did get mad at me,” you winced.
  “I just thought,” you sighed, your shoulders touching him. “Wouldn't it be nice if I can wake up one day and find them growing again? Right here.”
  God created a garden for your kind once. It is gone now, but Wakatoshi wonders what you’d say, how you’d look at him, if he shows it to you. Your head against the grass, fingers laced with the lilies of the field, the taste of fruit on your lips, your thighs dripping with honey and dew—
  Wakatoshi felt his loins stir, but he didn't say anything, except, “The soil here is poisoned.”
  You snapped towards him, brows drawn together. “I know,” you said.
  “A sapling cannot grow on this wasteland.” 
  “Yes, I’m not stupid.”
  “That could have been any hill.”
  “I know.”
  His throat is parched; his hands a pair of useless things. He can hold galaxies in them, sink ships and level seas by the order of God had this body not trapped him. (He can free himself, but then you’d die). Now he doesn’t even know what to do with them as he rushes out a hoarse, “I have upset you.”
  He refused to let you take the paper from him. You didn’t seem to mind.
  “No,” you sighed. “No, of course not. Forgive me, Ushijima-sama.”
  You bowed again. An act of servitude.
  “Please, let me escort you back to the capital.”
  He does not understand. He only told you the truth. 
  But you turned your back to him and the light in your eyes has gone and he wants to chase it back the same way he wanted to run after God when the parting happened, leaving the Heavens mourning until their wails split the firmament open. 
  Wakatoshi yearns to have you closer. He yearns for that smile and laughter back on your face. 
  Wakatoshi yearns. 
  But, that cannot be. 
  After all, that is just much too human, is it not?
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    The rain drenched Wakatoshi to the bone, droplets falling from his lashes to his cheeks, when he walked through the nighttime storm.
  He didn't bother to dry himself. 
  After he'd reached your room and shoved the door open, the clap of thunder covering the noise, Wakatoshi decided to undress himself, shedding all articles of clothing until he was naked as the day God created your kind.
  Wakatoshi felt the chill bite his skin. But that had nothing on the way you easily dismissed him earlier, by the time you'd reached the abode of this city's leader. 
  You left him and he could no longer see your face and yet that fierce longing in his chest stayed, creeping to every part of him, making a home in his belly.
  Until he recognized the feeling for what it was.
  Hunger. 
  Hunger, he could fathom. And when one feels it gnaw at one's flesh, what does one do, but eat?
  You were sleeping on the cot, just as he'd imagined you to be. It's enough to keep him warm: the sight of you, at peace under the glimmer of the trinkets dancing above as a lamp burned lowly. 
  The mattress sank under his weight when he sat next to you. His much larger hand took yours, locking your fingers together to rest his cheek against it, bringing it beneath his nose, and feeling his heart race as he breathed in your scent. 
  He remembers the first time he did this so vividly. You tasted like apples and sin; and though there's none of that now, his mouth still waters as he savors your skin, his tongue traveling to your arm, just as he did then, leaving bites along the way.
  You barely stirred when he lifted your shirt to reveal your tits, the sheen of sweat along the valley forcing a growl out of him.
  Do you feel it, too? When you drag him further down to earth, debasing him and bringing him so low that now he is nothing but a hungry flesh and a mouth made of obscenities. 
  "Fuck," he grunts, as he took his cock, heavy and hard to touch, and rubbed the head with his fingers.
  Perhaps he is lower than human now. Perhaps it does not matter. What is God to this hunger, anyway?
  (This hunger is bigger than God.)
  The cot was pitifully small as he straddled over your chest, breathing still shallow, and spat on his hand before wrapping it around the thick shaft. The tip of his cock touched your nipple as he fondled with the other one, thumb and forefinger pinching and pulling until you let out a tiny mewl.
  Hearing it had him falling to his knees. 
  Wakatoshi moved off the cot to kneel on the floor, the better to suckle on your tits, to lick and nibble on the skin below it, on your stomach, until he's seeing red and ripping your loose pants down to your thighs.
  He pumped his cock harder as he caressed the folds of your cunt. You groaned, arching your back and offering yourself to his mouth, when he started to lap on your clit, sticky liquid coating the swollen bud as he swirled his tongue to  spread the juices dripping from your hole.
  Your entire body was singing for him, even when all you'd managed were squirms and muted whimpers. He felt your skin twitch beneath his lips, as he cupped his balls and drove his hand faster around his throbbing cock, gripping his fist tighter.  
  Oh, he sees you on that garden, clinging onto him as he drives himself into you, pounding your cunt as you beg please, just as you did before, please, please, fuck me harder I am yours I am all yours.
  But, for now, he settles himself with the violent shudders of your body, flooding his mouth with cream, as he releases his seed on his palm. 
  Wakatoshi rubbed it against your leaking cunt, quivering still in his hand. 
  There is something that must be finished, first, before he takes you, in truth. He cannot have you conscious (for now.)
  He covered you back in your clothes, after. Then, Wakatoshi lingered on your face.
  "Fearfully and wonderfully made," he whispered, a mere guttural sound amidst the rain pouring outside. 
  Here lies salvation, he thought, as his fingers brushed your closed eyes. 
  And here, Wakatoshi thought as he brought his lips down to kiss you, here lies damnation. 
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  He wiped his blood on the doorposts and lintel before he left.
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    You woke up to silence.
  Your nether regions ached and, really, the temptation to not go to work today was insanely strong. But the sun was already bleeding through the window and there's a heavy feeling on your chest.
  And like wearing a shirt on backwards, you immediately knew that something was not right. 
  The sound of the door slamming open echoed through the building as you ran outside. 
  There was nothing. 
  Not the sound of people going about their day nor of children risking the wrath of their mothers with their games. The only thing you could hear was the buzzing noise of a fly circling around your ear.
  You didn't bother knocking on your neighbor's room, rushing inside to shout for Soo-jin and her mom, stopping only when you found them sitting around a small table.
  They didn't turn around to greet you.
  "There you are," you panted, putting your hands on your knees. "I'm so sorry for barging in like this."
  Even little Soo-jin, who never failed to jump into your arms given the opportunity, kept her back to you.  
  You stepped towards her. "Soo-jin," you whispered, placing a hand on her thin shoulder. 
  "Soo-jin, hey," you chuckled, your trembling fingers shaking her bit. "H-hey, what's wrong?"
  Her head nodded down, like a doll grabbed all too suddenly, then it lolled to the side, rolling until she bared her neck, until you saw her face.
  Her mouth hung open. 
  Inside the cavern were tiny black lumps that took you a second to realize were flies feasting on her molars. And when you lurched and sank to the floor, it was only then that you saw her staring back at you.
  Bleached eyes, wide and whitened to the core and pupils like spoiled milk. 
  "N-no." Your vision was cloudy, freezing dread settling at the pit of your stomach when you saw that the same happened to her mother. "Who- who did this?"
  Your voice strained out as you stood, mind moving faster than your legs.
  Granny. Go to Granny. 
  Though you already know, don't you? You don't have to see her to know her fate. Because as you sprinted out of the room, leaping down across the steps, out of the building and into sand and concrete, the smell of sulfur followed you, choking you along with the sight of bodies sprawled on the ground.
  Insects creeping out of nostrils and every other orifice, faces that you'll never have the chance of knowing and faces that you'd grown up with, hands reaching to the heaven as if at prayer.
  You are alone. You are alone in a city filled with rotting corpses. 
  There was an uncontrolled animal inside your body, fighting out of its cage in a fit of rage as you craned to look up, further up.
  The sky was on fire, the fissure in the middle gaping wider and wider and sucking in a mass of swirling clouds dipped with blood and orange.
  And there. There, look. Standing atop the towering walls.
  Beyond the heat wave was a figure, burning bright that you had to squint and you wanted to look away, you had to look away, but you can't go out like this, not without a scream and a curse at your lips.
  What did you do, you were shouting, Who are you, you were screeching, feeling the veins in your neck stretch and pop as you walked closer and closer. 
  Wings as far as the eye could see stood atop the fallen city.
  Spread out to span the horizon and folded at the middle to conceal whatever it is pointing a flaming sword towards the sun. 
  You tasted iron at the back of your mouth, but you did not stop. The earth beneath you swallowed your feet as it turned to mud with each step you took.
  And with the flap of its wings, the sound of metal banging against each other reverberated louder.
  There were children howling in pain, somewhere, behind you, in front of you, beside you. You staggered forward and for the life of you, you do not understand why you keep trying, because the ground below wasn't even soil anymore.
  It took another step before you fell.
  And it was like one of those dreams. 
  But this time you don't wake up. 
  You bawled out and thrashed your legs as water rose above you, slamming against your chest and filling up your mouth and burning your nose until it's all you could see, until you're floating in darkness and water is rushing to your lungs and you were flailing upwards, catching that spot of sunlight, but the more you kicked your feet and swung your arms, the more it tugged at your heavy legs and the less you could breathe and the further it got—  
You were sinking, the clanging of a giant bell everywhere still, as the water pulled you down, and in the deep, below the nothingness, was a massive cleft illuminated by the barest of light, slowly opening to reveal an eye, and no sound came out though you know, though you felt your throat release a shriek, horrifyingly small, so, so small compared to that glass green pupil that illuminated the darkness, rapidly contracting and dilating and then blinking as  salt and fire streamed deep in your skin, but they were looking at you from all sides, a thousand eyes flanking you and judging the weight of your soul with their unforgiving gaze as you tossed and turned in the waters. 
  I am going to die here, you thought. I will die here, you cried.
  But something was pulling at your waist and despite clawing and jabbing at it, desperate to keep it away from you as you wailed get off me get off me, it gripped you tight, hauling you upwards until you were gulping and breathing in cold air.
Through tears and the piercing cry that ripped out your throat, you felt strong, warm arms cradle you close.
  Along with a deep voice, familiar and conjuring a long lost memory. 
It lulled you into hiccups and dry sobs, gentle as it whispered. 
“Do not be afraid,” he said. “Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.”
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thediamondgirl17 · 4 years
Text
Kitsune! Miya Twins x Reader: Sly Foxes (SFW-ish) Part 1
Okie dokie! So here we are! First Miya twins fic! I’m super excited! I read a fic called The Fox Witch by @haikyuufairy and it was SO FREAKING GOOD! It inspired me to write this! Now- I am NOT familiar with Kitsunes or authentic Japanese culture and things like that- so PLEASE bear with me! I’m trying my best. I’m literally going to do research for this fic because I love the concept of it so much! Kitsune Inarizaki was AMAZING and I genuinely loved it! So I hope I am doing this author justice by writing something (hopefully) as good as they wrote! 
Like I said earlier I am a Kitsune/Authentic Japanese virgin and basically have no idea what I’m doing with this but...I’m gonna try anyway! So without further ado, lets get on with the story!! As always if you would like a Part 2, feel free to suggest and I will be happy to provide! 
Warnings: PG-13 
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    For as long as you could remember, you had grown up hearing stories of Kitsunes, the gods, demons, and all sorts of things that you had thought only belonged in the dreams of those older than you. You would leave offerings to the gods and the deities right outside their homes to try and keep the ‘bad’ demons away and have the good ones on their side if things were to turn bad. However, you never really believed any of it. They were myths. Fairy tales. Things adults would say to children to get them to behave. Right? 
    You had never expected any of it to be real. You had never expected that demons actually roamed the earth out of sight from human eyes. And you sure as hell did not expect to be passed out inside the temple on shrine grounds of the goddess Inari. 
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    “There...done...,” You said looking down at the pile of boxes you had just hauled into your new house. Finally you were away from your family and had just started working in the area. Your house was one floor, one bathroom, one bedroom cottage-like house that you were able to afford each month in rent. It was nice, quiet, and you had a nice big front and backyard. 
    You stretched out and sat down on a chair in the dinning room, crossing your legs and pulling out your phone to check it. You scrolled through for a while as a reward for hauling in boxes upon boxes of your stuff. However, when you had finally noticed you needed to unpack your clothes or else you would have nothing to wear, you did so. You grabbed a pair of scissors and started to cut open the boxes with your clothes, and clothing hangers in them. Silently you thanked the gods that the movers were able to already have helped you set up your bed and move heavy furniture so that you wouldn’t have to do it yourself. About a half hour had passed until you heard a knock on your front door. You placed down the clothes you were currently folding and walked over. Once you opened it, you saw an older man and woman standing there with a smile. 
    “Hello...My name is Aikio Tanjiro, and this is my husband, Eiji Tanjiro. And we came over to welcome you to the neighboorhood.” The old woman said and gave a small bow, along with her husband. 
    “Well it’s nice to meet you Tanjiro-san.” You said softly and bowed a bit as well. “Please, come in, I can make you both some tea.” You offered. The two had agreed and you gave them each a pair of guest slippers to wear. They sat down on the tatami on the floor as you boiled the water for tea. 
    “Oh please just Aikio and Eiji are fine.” Eiji said while sitting down. 
    “Oh...alright!” You smiled and once the water was ready, brought it over to the old couple. You sat down with them and started to pour the water into each of their cups. 
    “Have you been to the shrine yet since you have moved in?” Aikio said while blowing softly on her tea before taking a small sip. You smiled nervously. 
    “N-no actually, I’ve been busy unpacking.” You admitted with a small nervous chuckle. 
    “Oh well you must!” The old woman said with her eyes widening a bit. “There are Kitsune around this town that keep us protected from demons and Yako. Bringing them and the Goddess Inari an offering is an absolute must if you plan on staying here.” She warned and took another sip of her tea. You turned to her husband to see if he would say anything about her just having one or two screws loose, but all you got was a small smile. 
    “Don’t look at me...,” He trailed off. “She sounds a little crazy but she is right. There are Kitsune that have protected this area for generations. It’s best to appease them now when you first arrive so they don’t harbor bad feelings toward you.” He said and also sipped his tea. You just nodded slowly in agreement with them. 
    ‘I don’t need to...,’ You thought to yourself as the three of you sipped on your teas. ‘But if they ask again, I wouldn’t want to lie to them, or disappoint them.’ You sighed internally. ‘I’ll do it anyway, besides it will help feed the wildlife.’ You thought as you sipped on your cup. 
    “Don’t mind the foxes in the area as well.” The old woman said. “This area is known for them. Some may be Kitsune who just haven’t reached 100 yet, so treat all of them with respect.” She nodded in agreement with herself. And for the rest of the evening the three of you talked about whatever else came to mind about your moving in. 
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    After spending the rest of the evening with the Tanjiro couple, you had finished a bit more of unpacking before crashing down onto the bed you had just made and groaned. You rolled over to look at the clock on your nightstand. You didn’t have work tomorrow so you would be able to sleep in. ‘I have to go to the shrine though,’ You internally groaned to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in things like this, it was just that you thought it was childish, almost like Santa Claus or the old folk tales you heard as a kid. Oh how wrong you were. 
    The next morning rolled around, and you had only known this due to the fact that the sun was shining right in your eyes when you woke up. You groaned and rolled over to look at the clock. ‘11:30′ it read. You sighed and threw the covers off of yourself before rolling out of bed and trudging downstairs to make breakfast for yourself. ‘I’ll make breakfast, get dressed, do my hygienic rounds, unpack a little more, and then I’ll visit the shrine.’ You thought as you gently pushed around the ingredients inside the frying pan.  
    And you had followed that plan through. However when you had finished unpacking what you wanted for the day it was actually about on the verge of sunset. You sighed and shook your head. You stood up, stretched out, and went into the kitchen to whip up some food very quickly for the offering. After cooking what you wanted, you put it in two bowls. One for the goddess and the other for the Kitsune, covered them with tin foil, and then placed them in a bag to make it easier to carry up to the shrine. 
    Considering that now it was dark outside you grabbed your coat, and a flashlight. The shrine was not too far away from your house at all. It was about a half a mile away including the stairs to get to the shrine. So a trip there and back would be a full mile, which wouldn’t be bad at all. The stairs to the shrine were surrounded by wilderness, and the only thing you were really worried about were wild boars, but you knew that if you didn’t mess with them, they usually wouldn’t mess with you, so you didn’t worry. 
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    Slowly your legs carried you up the stairs to the shrine through the woods. Your flashlight pointed at the ground in front of you to insure that you wouldn’t fall. Every now and again you would hear the sound of something in the bushes beside you, but wouldn’t pay any mind to it. ‘It was probably just a bird or squirrel.’ You would think as you continued to climb. 
    You had gotten about halfway up the stairs when something had suddenly jumped out in front of your light. You jumped a bit and stared directly at it. It was a fox. The fox standing in front of your light had a basic grey body with completely black legs, a white tipped tail, and a patch of white under it’s chin. It’s tail was down but waved back and forth. The two of you stood there for a while just looking at each other. 
    “...Can you move please?” You asked softly. “I need to get to the shrine...I brought offerings...,” Your voice was quiet but to you it felt like it was echoing through the woods. Almost a moment afterwards, the fox looked away from you and jumped back into the woods where you wouldn’t be able to see it, even if you had tried. 
    However, after the fox had left, you heard a rumble in the sky and you groaned. ‘Please don’t start raining.’ You thought. And soon, almost as if the gods heard you and decided to laugh in your face, you heard the sound of light pitter patter on the steps to the shrine. At this point you were closer to the shrine than you were to your house, so you silently made a plan to go into the building once you got up there to keep dry until the rain would stop falling. 
    You didn’t think you were moving that fast along the steps to the shrine. Your legs didn’t feel like you were moving that fast. It was more like time slowed down, and you felt like you were moving slower. But no matter what the case, you felt the undeniably feeling of your foot missing a step on the rock/concrete steps. And you felt yourself fall forward a little to far for your liking. The next thing you remember was everything going black.  
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
    “Why is she here?” A stern voice asked.
    “Kita is gonna be so pissed off at you-” A playful voice teased. 
    “Watch your language! Remember where you are!” A deep voice scolded. 
    You groaned softly, from the noise, your head hurting, and being woken up. You felt yourself roll over on what felt like a futon. Your eyes opened for a moment and everything was blurry. Soon you closed them and re-opened them to asses the situation you were in. You sat up slowly and put your hand on your head. Under your fingers you felt bandages around your head. You let out a soft sigh and looked up. There were four people surrounding you. 
    The first one looked to be fairly younger than the rest of them. His black hair was pointed straight up in a spikey kind of way. He had grey eyes, and thick eyebrows that framed his face in an intimidating way. 
    The second one had greyish brownish muddies short hair and eyes that matched the color of it. He looked to be a bit older than the first one, but younger than the last one, and the same age as the third one. 
    The third one had blondish yellowish hair with an undercut that was brown. His eyes were also brown and he held this mischievous smirk on his face as he looked at you. He looked to be older than the first one, the same age as the second one, and younger than the third one. 
    Finally, the fourth one had very short brown hair, blueish greyish eyes, and darker skin than the other three. Out of all of them he looked the oldest. This was the one that kneeled down and let his eyes wander along the top of your head. 
    “How are you feeling?” He asked. You recognized his voice as the third one you heard. “Do you feel dizzy? Nauseous? Do you remember your name?” 
    “Chill with the questions Aran...She can’t answer all of them at once.” The one with the yellow hair said as if he were the smartest man in the world. 
    “Shut it Atsumu.” He scolded. Aran then looked back at you. 
    “No. No. And (F/n) (L/n)...Where am I?” You asked looking around you. “Am I in the shrine?” 
    “Wow...Good job...Someone get her a gold star.” Atsumu snickered. 
    “Leave her alone.” The second one said crossing his arms. 
    “Ginjima is right.” Aran replied. 
    “...I-is Kita gonna be mad at me Aran? I didn’t know what to do with her...I crossed her path and then there was thunder...a-and then she fell...there was so much blood...I got scared...,” The first one said pacing nervously back and forth. You sat there silently.
    “Chill Riseki...Kita won’t be mad.” Aran responded. 
    “No you didn’t.” You replied and looked up at him. “I didn’t see anybody when I came up the steps.” Riseki furrowed his eyebrows when he heard this. 
    “Yeah you did! We even made eye contact...You asked me to move...,” He said looking confused. 
    “I said that to an animal...Where you further up the steps? If so I didn’t see you.” You replied. 
    “I-,” Riseki was about to say before he heard someone walking to the room you all were in. There were two sets of footsteps that could be heard. Two people walked into the room. One of them looked like a carbon copy of the yellowish blondish haired boy. And the other had very noticeable white hair with black tips. 
    “Is she doing well?” The man with the white and black hair said to Aran. 
    “Yes...She is up and about and asking questions.” He replied and everyone looked back at you. 
    “Did she bring an offering?” He asked. 
    “W-well...Yeah she was on her way up with two when she fell.” Riseki said gently rubbing his arm, a nervous tendency for the young looking boy. 
    “I guess it can be forgiven.” The white and black haired man spoke again. “Just as long ad you bring another one....What a waste of food..,” He said softly. While his voice held no emotion, it cut through you like a blade. 
    “So...Are you like the monk that runs this place?” You asked looking up at him. Almost everyone in the room looked at you as if you were stupid. 
    “I guess you could say that.” He replied. 
    “Ya aren’t gonna scold him for bringin’ her here?! What the hell Kita!” Atsumu said in a rude tone. 
    “No..., And watch your tone Miya. Remember where you are.” Kita said and crossed his arms. “He’s young...,” He trailed off. 
    “Okay but-,” You paused. “Riseki was it? Where you stalking me on my way up?” You questioned. 
    “N-no!” He shot back at you. “I literally walked in front of you!” He said not raising his voice but just making his words more stern. 
    “The only thing that walked in front of me on my way up here was a fox.” You said. Then the room went silent. 
    “Shit!” Riseki cried. The cussing and the sudden yell earned him a wack on the back of the head by Aran. 
    “It’s okay...We all messed up our first few times...,” The boy with the silver hair that looked like Atsumu said. 
    “However that still doesn’t excuse it...I know your getting used to this but if you can’t remember what form your in, you’re staying here.” Kita said putting his food down. You were silent until you stood up off the futon on the ground. 
    “I hit my head harder than I thought...,” You mumbled. 
    “What?” Atsumu teased. “Don’t believe in Kitsune?” 
    “Never seen one...or met one...so I couldn’t tell you.” You admitted and looked around. “But I think I’m dreaming at this point so...I’m gonna head home now.” You stretched a bit, eager to get out of whatever kind of a dream this was. 
    “You aren’t dreaming.” Kita said in his usual monotoned voice that sounded cold and strong. “And you should believe what your elders tell you.” You blinked for a moment and looked around you, at everyone. 
    “...Prove it...,” You said softly.
    “We don’t have to prove anything to you.” Aran chimed in. 
    “Awe why not~!” Atsumu said playfully. “She’s already seen one of us...no point in hiding it anymore.” And soon his body had morphed. Not too much. But a tail and a pair of ears were visible. The ears were red, and that same fur had adorned the tail, however instead of red fur on the tip, it was black. You blinked then rubbed your eyes.  
    “Well since now you know. I expect offerings here tomorrow afternoon.” Kita said turning away from you. He started walking out of the room before pausing. “Inari along with all of us expect it now that we have shown you kindness.” And with that he left the room, leaving you in a confused state and looking around at the Kitsune in the room. 
    “...I don’t believe this...,” You whispered softly. 
83 notes · View notes
btsqualityy · 4 years
Text
Scripted: Part 11
Namjoon x Reader; Jimin x Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff, President!Namjoon, Head of Security!Jimin
Warnings: (Reluctant) open relationship, mentions of cheating, oral sex, technically public oral because someone else comes in the room lol
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Three weeks later, things around the Blue House had gone back to being about as normal as it was possible for them to. You and Namjoon were still keeping to the agreement and faking the persona of a happily married couple, but the two of you definitely were not on speaking terms. 
In fact, you had barely been seeing Namjoon lately, as the multiple things going on in your country had taken him away and made him focus on his responsibilities as President. You couldn’t lie and say that you weren’t happy that he was busier these days, because you were. Ever since you’d caught him with Hyejin again, you could barley stand being in the same vicinity as the man if you didn’t have to be. Luckily though, you had Jimin to keep you company. 
The two of you, along with Momo, had been busying yourselves with putting the finishing touches on the plans for the Children’s Benefit, which was in about two weeks. Seeing as though you had told Momo about the new developments between Jimin and yourself, she always happened to come up with an excuse as to why she couldn’t join you two when you had to go and do things such as picking dinner menus, performers, and other things, and you knew that she was doing it so that you and Jimin could spend more time together and it not be suspicious; which is something you were insanely thankful for. 
Ever since you and Jimin kissed and confessed to liking each other, things had been different between the two of you, which you loved. He was more open with you now, talking to you about everything under the sun without the hesitation or shyness that he had previously. He was also more touchy now and you quickly found out that he was a stage 5 clinger, which surprised you seeing as though he was a big Navy man. Most of all, though, the thing that you loved the most was how often Jimin made it clear just how much he cared for you. He never hesitated to check on you, from bringing you food if you just so happened to mention being hungry to things as simple as asking you how your day was. He was the bright spot in your day, and you loved being around him.
Which is why you were currently walking down the long hallway on the West Wing of the Blue House, where Namjoon’s office, as well as the offices of several other top employees of the Blue House were. Once you got to the door that you were looking for, you knocked on the heavy wood and waited for a few seconds before the door opened and you were greeted with what was quickly becoming your favorite smile to see.
“Y/N-ah,” Jimin grinned.
“Hey,” you replied with a smile. Jimin reached out and grabbed your hand, all but pulling you into his office and shutting the door behind you. You let out a sudden squeak when he pushed you up against the door, smiling down at you as he looked you up and down. 
“Baby bird,” he whispered again and you reached up, setting your hands on the sides of his neck.
“Hi,” you giggled, leaning forward and kissing him firmly. 
“Missed you,” he mumbled against your lips and you pulled away in order to laugh.
“We saw each other two days ago.”
“Two days too long,” he teased and you just rolled your eyes playfully as he let go of your waist. You followed behind him as he walked over to sit back behind his desk and you hopped up on top of it, crossing one of your legs over the other. 
“What are you up to?” You wondered as you watched him type some things onto the document that was pulled up on the monitor of his computer.
“Just outlining some new security procedures,” Jimin told you as he looked up at you and you raised an eyebrow. 
“New security procedures?” You repeated. “Everything ok?”
“Yeah, just trying to see what works best and what doesn’t,” he shrugged. 
“We’re not gonna have a JFK and Jackie O. situation on our hands, are we?” You asked and Jimin instantly shook his head.
“No, not if I have anything to do with it,” he chuckled. “Everything’s fine, though.”
“Alright,” you said, letting the topic drop.
“How was your day?” Jimin questioned as he looked back to his computer.
“It was good. I found my dress for the benefit,” you announced and Jimin looked back to you with renewed interest.
“Oh yeah? Is it sexy?” He wondered and you laughed as you shook your head.
“It’s a children’s benefit Jimin,” you replied. “I have to play the part of the respectable First Lady in order to get money for the kids.”
“It’ll be their loss then,” he smirked, standing up out of his chair and moving to stand in front of you, and you parted your legs to allow him to stand in between them. “I’m sure that whatever you chose, you’ll look absolutely gorgeous.”
“Yeah?” You murmured and Jimin nodded as you looped your arms around his neck. “I chose it with you in mind.”
“You’re killing me Y/N-ah,” he grumbled and you smiled, knowing the affect that you were having on him. 
“Oh and by the way, I missed you too,” you confessed, which made him grin widely. Instead of saying anything, he just moved forward and kissed you. The kiss quickly became passionate, your lips parting in order to accommodate Jimin’s tongue as it pushed its’ way into your mouth. His hands gripped your waist tightly, dragging your butt closer to the edge of the desk so that he was able to push his pelvis against yours. 
“Jimin,” you whispered, pulling away from the kiss to speak. “Not here.”
“When then, baby bird?” Jimin replied huskily as he trailed his lips downwards, suckling kisses against the skin of your neck. While the two of you had messed around a few times, you hadn’t actually had sex yet. There was no actual reason, though; it was all just a matter of finding a time where the both of you were absolutely free, which seemed damn near impossible. 
“I don’t know. Definitely soon though,” you giggled as Jimin began licking wide stripes from the base of your neck up to your jaw. “I want to, I just think it’s too risky to do it here at 2:00 in the afternoon.”
“I hear you,” Jimin sighed as he lifted his head from your neck and looked at you. “Him though? Not so much.” You raised an eyebrow in confusion and Jimin motioned down with his head. When you looked down, you saw a bulge forming in Jimin’s slack.
“I could take care of that for you,” you offered and it was Jimin’s turn to raise his eyebrow at you. 
“Here?”
“It’s less riskier than full blown sex,” you reasoned as you let your fingers stroke the hairs on the nape of Jimin’s neck. “You always take care of me, let me take care of you.”
“Ok. Fuck, ok,” Jimin nodded and he stepped back to give you some room as you hopped down off of the desk. Placing your palms on his chest, you gently pushed him back until he collapsed into his desk chair. You then got on your knees, wasting no time in putting your hands on the bulge in his pants. You undid his belt buckle and the button on his slacks, pulling them open afterwards and coming face to face with Jimin’s boxers.
“Wanna help me out a little here?” You requested innocently and Jimin numbly nodded as he lifted himself up, pulling down the band of the boxers and pulling them down just enough so that his cock had room to spring free before settling himself back down in the chair. You reached out and took ahold of him in both hands, almost marveling at how pretty his dick was, as crazy as that sounds. He was long enough that he fit with both of your hands stacked on top of each other, but he wasn’t so thick that you couldn’t wrap a hand around him. 
“You’ve been hiding this from me,” you accused lightly, making Jimin smile down at you.
“Not hiding, just being respectful,” he corrected you and you rolled your eyes plafully as you lowered your head, moving your hands before licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, taking him into your mouth after. He groaned deeply and you looked up at him, shooting him a light glare and he held his hands up in apology.
“Sorry, it felt good,” he defended himself. Shaking your head, you began to slowly move your mouth up and down on him, loving how heavy he felt on your tongue. 
“God, that’s good,” Jimin murmured, looking down at you and cupping one of your cheeks in his hand. You brought your hand up, using it to stroke him as you also sucked him off.  You could tell that he was getting pretty into it and you were too, which is why you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the door to his office open as well as a familiar voice. 
“Hi Jimin-ssi,” Taehyung greeted him and you glanced up at Jimin to see him straightening himself up as he turned the chair slightly to look at Taehyung. Since you still had his cock in your mouth, you had no choice but to shuffle with him. 
“Hey Taehyung-ssi,” Jimin replied and you were surprised by how unaffected he sounded. “What’s up?”
“I just came to give you a copy of Namjoon’s upcoming schedule,” he said and you could hear the rustling of papers. “Also, he wanted to talk to you about security measures for the Children’s benefit, just to make sure everything’s in order.”
“I’ve been working on them so I’ll be ready,” Jimin said, clearing his throat in order to hide the groan that wanted him as you continued to slowly suck him off. “Do you know when he was gonna come in?”
“He’s having a meeting with the Prime Minister right now, but he should be done in about 10-ish minutes,” Taehyung replied. “Is it alright if I send him in once he’s ready?”
“Yeah, sure,” Jimin nodded and you were hoping and praying that Taehyung would just hurry up and leave. Instead, you heard him speak up again.
“If you don’t mind my asking Jimin-ssi, are you single?” Taehyung wondered. 
“Uh, yeah I am,” Jimin responded.
“Great! I have this friend, Lee Taemin, and I think the two of you would be a good fit,” Taehyung smiled. “He’s a professional dancer so he doesn’t have the chance to get out much, but I think the two of you would mesh well.”
“Sorry Taehyung-ssi, but I’m not gay,” Jimin chuckled.
“You sure? Because you’re way too pretty to be completely straight,” Taehyung shot back and you had to do your best not to choke on Jimin’s cock from how much you wanted to laugh. 
“I’m sure, but thanks for the compliment,” Jimin laughed. “And besides, I kind of already have my eyes on someone.”
“Well, I’ve bothered you enough so I’ll let you get back to your work,” Taehyung said and you listened intently as the door to Jimin’s office opened and then closed again. Jimin then let out a breath that you hadn’t realized that he was holding, sitting up and setting his hands on your cheeks as you popped him out of your mouth and used your hands to stroke him firmly.
“You’re a fucking minx, you know that?” He practically growled and you felt your lower half clench around nothing from the tone of his voice. 
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” You questioned, looking up at him innocently. “I couldn’t just stand up.”
“You didn’t have to keep sucking me off either,” he countered and you just gave him a shy smile. “That turned you on, didn’t it?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged noncommittally.  
“Fuck, if we had time, I’d lay you out on this desk,” he threatened and you just smirked before taking him into your mouth once again. You put extra vigor into it this time, Taehyung saying that Namjoon would be done with his meeting soon and coming to see Jimin ringing in the back of your mind. You quickly ran your hands up and down the length of his cock, sucking earnestly on the tip. 
“God, where can I come?” He asked and you took him out of your mouth in order to answer.
“My mouth,” you replied before sucking him in again. He grumbled roughly and with a few more pumps of your hands and mouth, you felt ropes of cum land onto your tongue. You did your best to swallow it all as you took your mouth off of him, using your hands to still gently coax him through his orgasm. He opened his eyes and lifted his head from where it had fallen back against the chair, and he looked down at you with a lazy smile.
“Come here,” he whispered and you leaned up off your knees, meeting him for a passionate kiss. 
“I just had your cum in my mouth,” you pointed out with a giggle. 
“That’s not all you would have in you if I had the time,” he teased and you responded by smacking his thigh. You helped stuff him by inside his pants and you stood up and leaned against his desk as he buttoned and buckled his pants again, making sure that he looked put together. 
“Do I look alright?” You wondered and Jimin nodded as he looked you over.
“Beautiful as always, baby bird,” he smiled and you felt yourself blush lightly. Just then, there was another knock on the door. 
“Come in,” Jimin said and the door opened, Namjoon stepping inside.
“Hello Jimin-ssi, I just came to talk to you about-,” Namjoon started to say but his eyes widened when he saw you. “Y/N-ah, what are you doing here?”
“Jimin wanted to talk to me about some last minute details concerning the benefit,” you lied easily. 
“Ah,” Namjoon nodded slowly. “Well, I came to talk to him about the security measures for the benefit as well.”
“I have them right here Sir,” Jimin said as he moved to grab some files that were sitting on his desk. You could see, out of the corner of your eye, that Namjoon was looking at you quizzically but you purposefully ignored him. 
“I think I’m gonna head back to the other side of the House,” you announced after Jimin had gotten the files he needed and had handed them off to Namjoon. “Jimin, you can just call me if you have anymore questions about the benefit, ok?”
“Will do,” Jimin nodded and you gave him a smile. 
“I’ll see you later,” you told him before turning to look at Namjoon. “Bye Joon,” you said coldly as you stepped around him and opened the door to Jimin’s office, stepping out into the hallway before shutting the door behind you. Both men watched you as you walked out, and Namjoon turned back to face Jimin once you were gone.
“So, do you have any more questions about the security?” Jimin asked Namjoon. “I’ve been working on some new procedures that I think will work well.”
“I see that’s not the only thing you’ve been working on,” Namjoon accused and Jimin rose an eyebrow in confusion.
“Excuse me Sir?”
“Keep your eyes to yourself, Park,” Namjoon demanded. 
“Sir, I think you’re mistaken-.” Jimin tried to say but Namjoon cut him off.
“I’m no fool Park,” he snapped. “I saw the way that you were looking at her and I suggest you don’t let it happen again. Understood?”
“Yes Sir,” Jimin replied after hesitating for a few seconds. “Perfectly understood.”
“Good,” Namjoon. “I’ll get back to you on these plans later.” Namjoon then turned around and walked out the office, making sure to slam the door behind him, while Jimin stood there and started to think about what the hell he might’ve gotten himself into. 
.........................................
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334 notes · View notes
lonelyandlovelorn · 5 years
Text
Loved
A/N: This is so freaking long. I was going to make it a couple parts but I decided to just post the whole thing. I would also just like to preface this by saying that if you ever find yourself in this kind of situation, you deserve better. Also, I specifically labeled the reader as bisexual, I’m sorry if that isn’t you. 
Genre: Hurt/comfort, angst?, fluff-ish
Warning: mentions of abuse (not detailed), probably a swear word
Word count: 4800
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader
Summary: Natasha finds out something you’ve been hiding and just wants you to know that you are loved.
Masterlist
You tugged on the sleeves of your sweater, nervous that they would come up. You knew that you weren’t a skilled enough liar to talk yourself out of it if someone saw, so you were trying to avoid that possibility. Thankfully, it wasn’t too hot out, so the sweater wasn’t out of place. As the elevator doors opened, you plastered on your best poker face.
When you stepped out of the elevator, you walked towards the meeting room, waving at teammates on your way by. There was a mission this coming weekend that only needed you, Natasha, and Sam. Your job was, as Ned had called it when he high-fived you, the guy in the chair. Your job was generally to take care of surveillance, alarms, and anything else you could reach with tech. While Natasha was pretty good at doing that stuff on her own on missions, you were better. You knew how to handle yourself if need be, but you were better off not on the front lines. As you entered the conference room, you were grateful for that. You weren’t useless, but you felt in your current state you would only be a hindrance if it came to a fight. 
You sat down next to Natasha, who smiled at you, and across from Sam. Natasha ran you both through the operation, which was pretty simple. You would be nearby, highjacking their internet and watching for guards. Nat would infiltrate the base with your help, and Sam would wait on the sidelines in case he was needed. After going over the details, you all stood up to head your separate ways, you back home to your boyfriend. Natasha invited you to stay for dinner, but you had to refuse. 
“I don’t think Keith would want me to stay too long here.” Nat raised a brow at that, but didn’t question you. You were grateful that she didn’t think you could lie or hide anything so she was rarely suspicious of you.
You smiled at her and turned around, heading out as quickly as you can. Unfortunately, she didn’t make it quite that easy. “Are you alright, Y/N?” You nodded, hoping she would be reassured. She didn’t seem content, but she let you leave after letting you know, “You can come to me if you ever need me.” You nodded again, finally walking out of the room and back towards the elevator. 
--
When you got home that night, Keith wasn’t there. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling like you could finally relax. You knew you were weak for staying around, but you also felt like you didn’t have another option. This was your home, where else would you go?
You took off your sweater, grateful to no longer need it, and slipped into a T-shirt and shorts. You started preparing dinner, knowing that he wanted food ready when he got home. With one final sigh, you slipped back into a familiar routine, keeping an ear attentive to the front door or the key in the lock. 
--
It was Friday morning and you were looking in the mirror at the bruising around your ribs and arms. You were glad to be going somewhere that you could wear your usual long sleeve black shirt and pants. It would cover everything you needed to. Besides, these bruises would fade soon enough. 
You pulled your shirt over your head and finished packing necessities for the mission. Once you were packed, you headed out the door, leaving a note for your boyfriend and quietly locking it behind you. You were leaving your apartment earlier than you needed, just before dawn, hoping to take a calming walk to Avengers tower. It wasn’t often that you got peaceful time to yourself simply dedicated to thinking. It was usually dedicated to worrying about being careful. Keeping him happy. 
You finally arrived at the tower two hours later, feeling refreshed. You were meant to meet Sam and Nat in 30 minutes, so you wandered into the kitchen to see if you could find your two favorite super soldiers up. You were happy to see that they were both at the table, drinking coffees and reading. When they heard you enter, they both looked up, smiling at you. You waved at them both as Steve got up to greet you. 
“It’s been so long, Y/N,” Steve said as he hugged you tightly. You turned your face away from Bucky as you winced when you felt pressure on your bruises. You hoped he didn’t notice your reaction, and were grateful to see that neither of them reacted. You were, however, startled to see that Natasha was in the doorway of the kitchen when you pulled out of Steve’s arms. She eyed you suspiciously before carefully masking her face and looking towards the soldiers. 
“Sorry boys, I need to steal her.” She gave them a bland smile before pulling you out of the room with her. When she was a good distance away, she pulled you around to look at her. You were nervous she had figured it out. “What happened? Why did it hurt when Steve hugged you? He has better control than that.”
“It didn’t hurt, I just really missed him, that’s all.” You knew you were a horrible liar, but you hoped that she wouldn’t see through you. She narrowed her eyes at you, trying to intimidate you. You didn’t like lying to her, considering how much you cared about her, but you were too ashamed to admit that you couldn’t handle yourself. That you were so weak. 
When you didn’t break under her scrutiny, she sighed before nodding, letting you off the hook. You sighed in relief and followed her to the quinjet where Sam was waiting. Every movement you made, though, you could feel her eyes on you. While you didn't mind that any other time, you were scared she might actually see something if she kept watching you. You were careful not to do anything too obvious, because when you tugged on your sleeve for the first time, her eyes immediately caught the motion. After that, you didn’t fidget too much, knowing it could only incriminate you in her eyes. 
The flight was about 3 hours, none of you incredibly talkative, but comfortable enough to keep up a quiet conversation. Nat was flying and Sam sat next to you in the back. You had your laptop out, reviewing what you would need to do to break through their security. You were also trying to figure out how best to get the security guard not to realize what was happening, and decided that looping the footage would be best. Sam spent most of the flight messing with his suit, checking it over constantly to make sure that it was in peak condition. 
As the jet touched down, Natasha once more went over the mission plans. As you listened to her, you began to set up your computer and tablet to access the base that was less than a mile away. Nat had landed in a small clearing in the woods, but you all knew that you couldn’t automatically assume you were safe. You kept quiet and Sam sent out his drone for surveillance. When it came back with nothing of interest to report, you each nodded at each other, knowing your assigned tasks. You sat with your computer, beginning to record the security footage to loop back when Natasha entered a hall. Natasha and Sam quickly headed in the direction of the base, Sam holding back in the treeline. When Sam told you that Natasha was near the back door, you began working. You played the footage for each screen that you had recorded on the security guard’s monitor, linking the live feed back to you so you could keep track of where she was. 
“Widow, two men approaching around the next corner. Both armed with pistols.” She didn’t respond, but you could see her react on the camera, pressing up against the wall and sneaking towards the corner, waiting to jump the men. She quickly managed to knock them both out without letting them make any noise, and you couldn’t help but admire her skills. Of course you knew she was attractive; even if you were completely straight, you would have to be aware of that. The thing was, you weren’t straight, and you knew that you had been attracted to her in the beginning. You also knew that you had no shot with her, so you moved on, got a boyfriend. You were simply glad to call her a friend.
Natasha continued through the base efficiently, taking your directions when they were given. Natasha’s goal was to find information that they didn’t have on any digital files. They had been running human experiments for Hydra, and you were all trying to find out more, if there were others like the Maximoffs. You figured that the information would be stored on paper files, since they were easy to destroy and not that easy to hack. 
Nat finally made it to a room full of filing cabinets, efficiently rifling through drawers until she held up a folder in the direction of the camera in triumph. 
You smiled in triumph and began congratulating her. “Great job, Nat, now I’ll just-” You felt a sharp pain in the back of your head as your vision blacked out and the world fell away. 
--
You woke up in a dark and musty room, to the sound of rustling papers. You tried to move slowly to look around, but let out an involuntary gasp at the pain in your skull. Hearing you, a man walked into your field of view, smiling. It was one of those smiles that you could tell belonged to someone cruel and heartless, who would laugh as he watched someone burn. He bent down in front of you to talk to you.
“Ah, our special guest is awake. I must say, for an Avenger, you sure weren’t much of a challenge. They probably should have given you a babysitter.” As you examined the man, you noticed he was wearing a lab coat, and that worried you more than a gun in his hand would have. There was no telling what he had done to you or what he was planning to do to you. He stood up from his crouched position, but continued to speak to you. “I’m impressed no one came for you yet. Are you really so disposable?”
You struggled to a sitting position, keeping your eyes on him. He was a little blurry, but you could tell he was dangerous. He turned his back to you and walked back towards a desk cluttered with papers. You tried to covertly free your hands from where they were tied behind your back, but you could do no more than strain your arms and hurt your wrists. Hearing you struggle, he turned back towards you, looking like he wanted to laugh at you. He continued talking to you. “You’re going to be a fascinating subject. You’re not even an important member of the Avengers, you’re just a lackey. I’m going to make you regret ever working with those freaks.” Two years ago, just after you joined, his words may have gotten to you. Thankfully, you were confident in your place on the team. Your goal was simply to keep him talking as long as possible. Calling on any acting skills, you tried to tear up, which wasn’t that hard considering how much your head hurt. 
He smirked triumphantly and roughly grabbed your face. When he put his face too close to yours, you used what Nat had taught you, swinging your head forward, banging it into his. He stumbled back, holding his forehead. 
“You bitch!” he yelled as he pulled his hand back and slapped you. You fell to the floor at the impact and took a moment to recover before sitting back up. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something that nearly made you weep in relief, but you were careful not to respond.
As Natasha crept up behind the man, you kept him distracted. “Are you so weak that all you can do is slap me? I thought you were a scientist, where’s the tact?” You knew that if you pushed him too far, he would hit you again, but you also knew that it was your best bet of keeping his attention focused on you. You could see the anger on his face as a smirk appeared on yours. 
“What are you smiling about?” he asked, irritated.
“She’s behind you.” He turned quickly, only to be met with a knife to the neck and a widow bite to the side. After looking into the fear in his eyes, Natasha smiled before zapping him, causing him to go limp. You could see that she wanted to do worse, but she rushed over to you instead, helping you free your hands. As she helped you stand, you nearly fell back down at the dizziness that overcame you. She caught you and felt around your head to find where he hit you. When she pulled her hand away, she assured you, “Any blood is dried, we just need to get you back to a doctor at home.” 
You would find a way out of that when you got that far, and simply let her half-carry you out of the room you had been hidden in and back to the jet. She helped you settle into a chair before instructing Sam to begin flying home. When you were off the ground, she turned towards you and gently held your face as she inspected the bruise beginning to form on your cheek. When she decided there was nothing to do about it, she asked “Did he hurt you anywhere else?” You quickly shook your head. Truth be told, you had no idea if he had hurt you while you were unconscious, but you didn’t want her to see any of the other bruises. She narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion and glanced down at your torso. “Are you sure?” This time, you hesitated before answering. She took that as enough evidence to not believe you. She leaned towards you, reaching for the hem of your shirt. You panicked, holding the material down while also scooting away from her. 
Hurt washed over her face as she watched you move away from her. You were immediately filled with guilt and got closer to her once again. You took a deep breath and let go of your shirt. While one part of you wanted desperately to hide it from her and anyone else, another part of you was just so tired and wanted someone to know. Looking you in the eye, Natasha once again reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it. You looked away from her, not wanting to see her reaction. You didn't think she would hold it against you, but you also didn't think that anything like this could happen to you, so who were you to talk. You could hear her small intake of break as the colorful array across your rib cage came into view. She was silent for a while, just staring, and you hated it so much.
Finally, she spoke. “These are at least two days old.” You kept your eyes focused on the wall across from you and away from her. Her voice softened as she gently placed her other hand on your cheek. “I don’t think I need to tell you that no one deserves that.” You let out a shaky breath as you finally looked at her only too see understanding, which just made it worse. She let go of your shirt and put her arms around you, one behind your head and one behind your back as she embraced you. You nearly broke then and there, but didn’t feel like crying and then being stuck on a jet for two and a half more hours. Instead, you simply tucked your face into the curve of her shoulder and breathed her in. She didn’t say anything else, simply held you. Finally, you pulled away. 
“We are going to talk about this when we get back.” With that promise that felt like a threat, she left you to your own devices. Your mind moved at a million miles a minute the entire rest of the flight, worrying about the conversation more than was healthy. You knew you couldn’t do anything about it, but you didn’t know what she wanted to know, what she would say, what she would do. 
You finally returned back to the tower, and before you could try to sneak away, Natasha grabbed your arm and pulled you towards her room. You didn’t bother putting up a fight, knowing it wouldn’t help. When she got back to her room, she pulled you inside and told FRIDAY not to let anyone in unless it was an emergency. She tugged you towards the bed and sat you down, sitting across from you before simply staring at you. 
Natasha was intimidating, but you weren’t planning to spill your guts without prompting at the very least, so you kept your lips sealed. She watched you for a moment before finally deciding to speak.
“He hits you.” You didn’t respond, but you knew that it wasn’t a question anyway. “He’s been hitting your for a while.” Once again, no response from you, since she wasn’t asking. “How long?” You looked away from her.
“Two months.” She kept her face impassive, but you saw her fist tighten. 
“What started it?” 
This was just getting more difficult. You didn’t think she would care, but it was scary to open up about yourself. “I came out as bisexual to him,” you quietly responded. “He yelled at me and walked out after backhanding me. He came back that night and apologized.”
“Then what?” She didn’t say anything about what you had said, she just asked for more information. 
“After he pretended to accept that, he wanted to have a threesome. I told him no.”
“What did he do?” Her voice was empty, and you knew how dangerous that was. 
“He knocked me down and kicked me in the ribs.”
“What else?” You could hear the thinly veiled anger that no one else would likely notice. 
“He sometimes accuses me of cheating.” 
“And then he hits you.” You could do nothing but nod in shame. She let out a huff from her nose, closing her eyes momentarily. When she opened them and looked back at you, all you saw was determination
“No matter what happens, no one deserves that. You don’t deserve it for being who you are. There is nothing wrong with you, and you are perfect the way you are. That man deserves to suffer for putting you through that.” Your eyes fell to the floor, shame washing over you once more. You felt embarrassed and weak. “I just need to know why you think you have to deal with that.”
“No one else wants me and keeps me around.” You felt pathetic for admitting how much you depended on being liked by other people.
“I need you to believe me that you are wanted and you are loved.” You let out a humorless laugh, full of disbelief. 
“Oh, for the love of-” You were startled as she grabbed your face gently and pulled you towards her. Making eye contact with you to be sure you weren’t completely against it, she slanted her mouth against yours. It was short and sweet, and you had no idea what was happening until she pulled away. 
“You are not alone, in anything.” She held her hand out and you grabbed it like a lifeline. 
“What do I do?” You didn’t know where to start.
“First of all, you’re going to move in here. We’ll bring Steve and Bucky to scare him and we’ll grab your stuff tomorrow. You’ll break up with him. You will spend tonight in my room.” You nodded along with her. Then, you saw something you didn’t think anyone else had ever seen before. Natasha looked nervous and hesitated before finishing her list. “If you’re interested, you’ll go out to dinner with me on Sunday.” You could tell that she would be fine to let you say no. 
You had been practically in love with Natasha since you watched her tell the government to screw themselves. Instead of answering her, you wrapped your arms around her. You decided to actually answer her to avoid confusion and whispered, “I would love to,” into her shoulder. 
She sent a rare genuine smile your way before placing a kiss on your cheek and backing away. “First, we have to deal with this. But tonight, we’re just gonna relax here, okay?” You nodded in agreement. She began to scrounge around her room to find you pajamas. She handed you a pair of shorts and a shirt that looked like it was stolen from one of the boys on the team. You took them and she led you into the bathroom to take a shower. You savored the warmth and the feeling of being clean. You felt renewed, and you knew it was the hope for the future that made you feel so good. When you finally stepped out of the bathroom, Nat was sitting back on her bed in similar pajamas to yours, though you knew they looked a million times better on her. She had a laptop with her and was so entrenched in it that she didn’t notice you leaving the bathroom until you sat on the bed next to her. She looked up at you as you looked at her screen and weren’t shocked to see a file on Keith pulled up. You raised an eyebrow at her and she shrugged innocently at you.
“You can’t do anything harmful to him.” She squinted at you, and you were ready to plead before she gave in. It felt too easy, but you were too tired to ask more.
You laid down next to her and settled into the covers, breathing in deeply the scent she seemed to leave on the blankets. You were so exhausted, you barely stayed awake long enough to feel her grab ahold of your hand and hold It close.
--
The next morning you woke up to an empty bed. You tensed for a moment before recognizing the room you were in. You sat up and stretched before getting out of bed and wandering down to the kitchen. You were met with the smell of coffee and three pairs of eyes turning towards you. Natasha, Steve, and Bucky were sat at the table. Natasha stood up and came towards you, leading you a little ways away from them. “You don’t have to tell them anything if you don’t want to, they’ll help either way.”
You took a breath as you thought it over. “Can I get a coffee and leave, and you can tell them?” You didn’t think you could tell another person right now. 
“Of course, as long as it’s what you want.” You nodded, and she handed you a coffee, just the way you like it. You walked back to Natasha’s room to wait it out. You sat on her bed and pulled out your phone, browsing the internet and killing time. She finally came back in 10 minutes later. 
“How did it go?” You asked, worried about how they took it. Those chivalrous bastards were probably ready to fight. 
“Let’s just say I’m not the only one you have to worry about if he’s there.” You couldn’t help but hear the hint of cruel satisfaction in her voice, but you didn’t mind. You laughed a little before getting up, intending to get dressed to go before realizing that you didn’t have anything to change into.
Somehow sensing what you needed, Nat handed you a pair of leggings and a t-shirt that had been sitting on her dresser.You smiled at her before heading towards the bathroom to get dressed. You didn’t think you would be able to change in front of her, at least until those bruises faded. 
You joined Steve and Bucky waiting for the elevator, and without saying anything, Steve gently wrapped his arms around you. You relaxed against his chest and felt Bucky grab your hand to provide his own kind of support. You couldn’t deny that you felt loved in that moment. The elevator arrived and you all stepped inside. Natasha grabbed your hand discretely and smiled over at you. You weren’t sure if she had told the boys about… that. But you didn’t ask. You just returned the smile and took a deep breath. 
You all piled into one of Tony’s SUVs that he had probably never driven. When you pulled up outside of the building, you were frozen. The only thing that got you moving was the support flooding into you from your teammates, your family. They all followed you up the stairs to your apartment door, which you unlocked. You peaked inside, and didn’t see anything that would indicate that he was home, so you opened it a little wider. You headed towards the bedroom to pack up your things. You didn’t honestly have that much stuff here, mostly clothes. You put everything in your duffle bag and laundry basket, Natasha helping you and carrying them out to the living room with you. You were just in the bathroom grabbing your toiletries before you heard voices. You headed back out to the main room to see Steve and Bucky standing in the way of Keith. You could see them both from behind, their arms crossed and their muscles intimidating. Keith saw you come into the room and started to move towards you before he was stopped by the wall of muscle. 
“Y/N! Baby, what’s going on?” Your face scrunched up in distaste. Steve and Bucky glared at him and he backed up. Natasha walked around from behind you, a hand gently brushing your arm before her face hardened and she headed towards him. Steve and Bucky parted to let her slip between them. If you didn’t know her lethality, it would have looked comical. Keith seemed to think it was, a mocking smile slipping onto his face before she grabbed the front of his shirt. 
You could barely hear her low whisper, but you felt chills run down your spine and it wasn’t even directed at you. “If you ever touch her again, you will only live so that you can regret it. If you come near her, talk to her, look at her, you will know what pain feels like.” Even Steve and Bucky looked unsettled, but Keith looked ready to piss himself. You couldn’t stop the chuckle that slipped from your lips. Natasha’s lips twitched up in response. 
Without saying anything else, your ex-boyfriend, ran away with his tail between his legs as fast as he could. After a beat of silence, you all began laughing. There were tears in your eyes at the look on his face, and you had never been more grateful for Natasha Romanoff. 
After calming down, you each grabbed something and left the apartment for good. You left the key on the kitchen counter and didn’t look back. 
--
Tony gave you the room across from Nat’s. You had moved in yesterday, and today was the day of the date. You couldn’t remember being more nervous. You had picked out a flowy navy dress, not sure what Natasha had planned. You curled your hair lightly and decided you were presentable, heading out of the room to meet her in the living room. She was already there and stood up when you walked in. Her eyes scanned you up and down appreciatively. She walked towards you and said, “You look lovely.”
You smiled back at her and scanned her tight red dress. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 
Steve walked in and looked you both over. “You guys look great.” 
Natasha smiled at him. “Thanks, I’ve got a hot date tonight.” A blush lit up your face, but he just smiled at you.
“Have fun, kids.” You rolled your eyes at him before grabbing your date’s handing and walking towards the elevator. 
When the doors closed, she placed a sweet kiss on your cheek and squeezed your hand, and you couldn’t remember being happier. 
397 notes · View notes
captainillogical · 5 years
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Devil’s Ballroom Ch.6
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A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.
Spinel/Reader
collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants
(have some tooth rotting fluff ya sluts)
You spend your weekend lazing about the house and playing games with Alex, trying your best to not obsess and overthink everything that happened with Spinel. The both of you agreed to hang out in another 3 days, and you’re really eager for the next couple of days to pass. She didn’t tell you what she wanted to do, so you’ve been waiting on a response for nearly a full day by now. She wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t use her phone much. You try to spend your time concentrating on building your tower in your minecraft server with your friends, when you hear a rustling noise from your headset, indicating Alex was back from grabbing food. You hear him set a bowl down on the desk and he picks his headset back up.
“Ugggghhhhhh.” He starts. “I was gone for like, 5 minutes and some creepers blew out the side wall of my fucking chicken coop..” You hear him chew whatever the fuck he was eating.
“That’s what that was? I thought I heard something in the distance but ignored it. I’m too far away anyway.” You reply. “I’m adding more floors to my tower. Wanna go get me more wood soon? Because I’m starting to run out.” You hear him scoff.
“Why do you always make ME go and get more wood? I wish Harper was here so she could be your supply bitch instead. Do I not look fucking busy here? First of all. I’m eating, Y/N, you brat. Second of all, I’m trying to repair my STUPID CHICKEN COOP. There’s like 60 chickens all LOOSE here and homeless!” He cries. “I have some acacia if you want it, but that’s all I’ve got to spare.”
“Yes, I’d totally love some ugly orange wood to break up all the NICE colors I have going on in here. Fuck off with your acacia.” You say, checking your inventory to see if you even have an axe. You hear your phone chime 2 times, and quickly grab it off your desk to see what it is. It’s just 2 texts from your dad asking you to pick up his prescription from the store. You sigh audibly.
“Whoooooo was that?” You hear Alex say. Nosy bitch.
“Just my dad.” You roll your eyes and say. “Wants me to pick up his prescriptions tomorrow.”
“Why’d you sound so disappointed, then?” He asks, and you can tell he’s up to something. Bastard.
“I’m not disappointed, stop trying to read my emotions.” You say. “You always do this when you think you’re onto something.” “I am onto something!!” He whines. “I can tell you’re hiding something from me, Y/N. You know what happens when you hide things from me? I find out, one way or another.”
“You’ll get nothing out of me, and you won’t find anything.” You say, deadpan.
“HA!!! So there is something.” He says, smug. 
“Okay you little shit,” You sigh into the mic. “It’s literally nothing. Drop it.”
“I bet I can guessssssssss.” He giggles, and you’re considering blowing up the rest of his chicken coop.
“I doubt it.” “Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…” He says into the mic, obnoxiously.
“Nope.” You say. Desperately trying to steer this elsewhere.
“Isssss it….” He continues, “Maaaaybeeeeeeee…. Spinel?” He asks, his voice pitching in that certain way when he knows he’s fucking right.
God fucking dammit, do you hate your friends. You can’t even hide anything for 2 days.
“No.” You argue.
“You’re a fucking liar Y/N, and I know you’re being difficult on purpose.” 
“Nooooo. Fuck you.” You give up. He’s going to be annoying until you give him what he wants.
“That’s my girl.” He says smugly, and you can hear him chewing again. 
“When you come home, I’m punching you in the face, I swear to god.” You threaten.
“Don’t be cute,” He says. “Side note, by the way, I’m actually coming home this week instead of the end of next week. Some of mom’s clients had to move their appointment forward due to some other things, so we get to go home early this year. I am SO FUCKING READY to be home at this point. Being able to only hang out with my brother blows.”
“Yesss,” You answer. “Now if only Harper got her ass home.”
“For real,” He burps. “Anyway. Back to what I was saying.” You were hoping he’d drop it. “Spinel. The gem. What's the deal with her?"
"Nothing." 
"Really? Because the other night you said otherwise. Did you even get her number?" He asks, accusingly.
"Of course I got her number, I'm not an idiot," You retort, mildly insulted. "She just hasn't texted me since our initial text last night. We made plans to hang out, since she hasn't done much around here, but hasn't given me an update on what she wants to do."
"It's been less than a day. Why does this have your panties in a bunch?" He prys.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Do you liiiiiike her?" He sings obnoxiously into the mic. You consider hanging up the call for a brief moment, but you know that he'd absolutely call that one a defeat, so you yield. You just sigh, again.
"I don't know. Kind of. She's funny, and sweet, and really easy to talk to. Also she's really pretty." You admit. “I don’t think I’ve got on with anyone that quickly, like ever.”
“Do you seriously have the hots for an alien?” Alex asks, amused. “You can’t judge me!” You yell, slightly miffed. “You think xenomorphs are sexy!”
“THEY’RE JUST SO CURVY, OKAY. AND THOSE TONGUES!!” He wails in reply as you laugh at him.
“I’m just saying! At least she’s fairly normal looking.”
“You mean, humanoid. She’s a gem. Don’t they have weird powers or something?” He ponders out loud.
“Not the point, and besides,” You interject, “I’m not too sure she’s even interested in anything like that, anyway.”
“Like what?” he responds, taking another bite of food.
“You know like.. dating, humans, girls..” You mumble, checking your phone absentmindedly.
“Well, ask her?” He says casually.
“Are you shitting me? No.”
“Pussy. Want me to ask her?” He asks, teasingly.
“Don’t even fucking talk to her.” You scoff. “You will fuck up everything, I’m sure.” Your phone buzzes, and you open the notification to see that it’s a text from Spinel. Oh my god finally.
    Spinel: Sooo, I’ve decided it’s gonna be a surprise. 
    Y/N: That’s unfair!
    Spinel: ;)
“What does that even mean!?” You accidentally say out loud.
“What does what now?” asks Alex immediately.
“Hold on,” You say, and take a screenshot of the text. “Sent you it. This is all I get, apparently. Cryptic. She gives me absolutely no signs.” You hear Alex’s phone ping on the other side, and then him chuckling.
“Yeah, you know what? You can figure this one out yourself, Y/N. You’re smart.”
“I hate you so much right now.” You sigh in frustration.
“And you’re gonna hate me even more, because I just remembered I promised my mother I’d help her with something. Bye!!!” He says and hangs up the call, leaving you sitting there. Ughh, this guy. Whatever, you think to yourself. You have other things to do anyway. 
But not before you blow up his chicken coop.
~
You spend the next two days at work letting the days pass painfully slow, with only the occasional text from Spinel. You’re not exactly overwhelming her with texts as is, as you also don’t want to seem too eager or desperate. So far, you only know that what the two of you are doing is casual, so to dress normal. You don’t even know when, or where the two of you are meeting.
You’re near the end of your shift that went from 6 hours to 10, thanks to Mr. Smiley leaving early and having you close up Funland by yourself. Tomorrow is the day you agreed on with Spinel, and with no answer still, you shoot her another text.
    Y/N: So when and where tomorrow?
You wait for an answer for a few minutes, double checking all the tills you closed in the meantime and wiping a few surfaces down. You hear your phone ping, and you check it.
    Spinel: Is noon good for you? Don’t worry about the where part yet.
    Y/N: You're driving me nuts. Just tell me where we're going.
    Spinel: Nope! ;)
Frustrated and amused, you finish the rest of your closing duties and clock out for the night. You grab your things, lock up, and head home. You spend the rest of the evening playing games with Alex, and have a hard time falling asleep, when you finally get around to it.
You wake up around 11:30 in a panic, completely aware you slept through your alarm. You check your phone, and Spinel's left a message about half an hour ago. You open it.
    Spinel: I'll meet you at your place around 12 ish. Okay?
You quickly type out a reply.
    Y/N: You got it.
You turn your phone's ringer on, and toss it on your bed to go and take a quick shower. You haven't even figured out what to wear. You finish your shower in like 5 minutes flat, towel yourself dry, and blow dry your hair. She said casual, you do casual best anyway, but why does this have you nervous? The fuck is she planning? Why is this secret? You're trying to keep yourself together while sorting through your clean clothes, attempting to find anything that works together. You have pants, and you're deciding between a sweater and some shirt when Jellybean jumps into the laundry pile, and you sigh out loud. 
Get it together, self. You grab the shirt. 
You put on a small bit of makeup - just eyeliner for the most part, and you walk downstairs to lounge on the couch and wait. You’re replying to a couple texts your father has sent you when you hear a knock on your door. You lay there for a moment, nervously, before getting up and heading over to the door. You check the peephole just in case - yep, it’s Spinel. You open the door to greet her.
“Hey,” You say, feigned casualness.
“Hey yourself. Ya ready to go?” She asks, leaning against the doorway. 
“Can I put my shoes on?” You step away from the door for a moment, and grab your sneakers.
“If you think they’re necessary.” She jokes, watching you.
“I could walk around barefoot, but it’s not really in the forecast today.” You lace up your shoes, and look over to Spinel. She’s got her hair up in a ponytail again today, and she’s wearing a light sweater and jeans. The collar is a bit wide, so you have full view of her neck and collarbone. She’s so fucking soft looking that you have to force yourself to stop staring. You also notice that she has a medium sized bag with her, contents completely obscured. She notices you looking at her bag, and moves it behind her shoulder. You think you see her hand shaking, but when you look a little closer it isn’t, so you dismiss it.
“No looking. That’s still a surprise.” She smirks. 
“You’ll have to tell me eventually.” You say, deadpan. You grab your bag from the table next to you, pocket your cell phone, and lock the front door. You turn to look her in the face. “Alright captain, where to?”
“Just follow me. We’re walking today.” She swivels around to face the street, her hair swishing from shoulder to shoulder. Ugh, she’s cute. You hate how easy it is for you to like her. You push down your feelings, and catch up to her side so you’re walking with her.  You pass by a couple houses, the air warm and slightly breezy. 
“So what have you been up to the last couple of days?” You inquire, looking around at the cars passing the two of you by, heat rising off the pavement.
“I fixed the wall that I ruined the other night, but only because Lapis was sending me increasingly threatening texts about it.” She replies, angling her face towards you. You catch her eyeing your hands for some reason, before quickly looking away.
“Yeah she seemed really miffed about it, almost like you committed a personal offense.” You say, laughing. You turn right at a street corner, and notice that you’re heading towards the beach. Hm.
“She can’t complain about it anymore, though, since I did such a nice job on it.” She adjusts the bag on her shoulder, and you hear a few items move against each other, but you can’t discern what exactly. “The diamonds have also been bothering me on my helping them with some homeworld event, but I’m not sure I’m keen on assisting them with it. They have the pearls for that.” 
“What did they want you to do, anyway? Don’t they have like, thousands of gems under their reign to help them with whatever they want?” You feel your hand accidentally brush against Spinel’s twice, and mumble an apology before putting your hand in your pocket. You catch her eyebrows furrowing for a second before she smoothes out her expression. 
“I honestly think they just want me there just to have me there. I don’t think they’re coping well with the fact that I actually want some space.”
“Well, they can calm down. Tell them to fuck off.” You say, joking, for the most part.
“Why don’t YOU tell the diamonds to fuck off, and see how well that works out for you.” She replies to you, grinning. The two of you are walking on the boardwalk now, by the beach. It’s pretty nice out, sun high up in the sky, a couple of fluffy white clouds around.
“I like being alive.” Spinel snorts at that, and you can’t help smiling. You feel like just being around her in general makes a permanent smile take residence on your face. “So. We’re at the beach. Are we having a beach day? I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”
“No, we’re not going to the beach,” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “We’re not even done walking, sheesh. Impatient.” You continue to follow her, and soon the two of you are walking the path that leads to the lighthouse by Steven’s house. You have no idea what she wants to do up there, but you shut your mouth and continue to follow. You’re both pretty quiet on the way up, concentrating more on the steep walk than on talking, but it isn’t uncomfortable. It’s easy, even. 
Once you and Spinel reach the top of the hill, she sets her bag down, and turns to you.
“We’re here.” She’s grinning and looking proud that she made it all the way up here.
“At the lighthouse. You’ve never been here?” You ask, confused. Her face falls, slightly, and you panic. “I’m not saying I didn’t want to come here, it’s nice! I just figured you’d like, I don’t know, want to go bowling?” 
“Steven said I should create better memories for the places I have bad memories attached to.” She says, looking at the ground and not meeting your eyes.
“You have bad memories with the lighthouse? But wh- oh.” The injector. Her arrival. You’re an idiot. “I’m sorry, I’m dense sometimes.” She meets your eyes and gives you a /look/ like somehow, she knows this already. Okay, ow. She bends down and opens her bag, and pulls out a little knit blanket, large enough for two people to sit on.
“So, maybe I’ve wanted to do this since seeing it in a movie I watched 2 weeks ago with Steven and Amethyst..” She trails off while unfolding the blanket and putting it down. She grabs her bag and sets it down on one of the corners, and starts to pull out what looks like 6 containers of food, and a thermos. After setting everything down, she looks up at you just standing there, a bit nervously. “Are you gonna sit down?”
“We’re having a picnic?” You look at her, breaking out into a slow grin. She flushes immediately.
“Don’t make fun of me.” She pouts, crossing her arms over her chest, and purposely turns her face away from you. You kneel down next to her.
"How can I not, when you always react so cutely." You tease her, feeling bold. You grab the thermos and examine it, but the contents aren't discernable from the outside.
"Remind me why I chose to do this, willingly?” She turns back to face you, glaring. “Because you liiiiiiike me.” You grin, wiggling your eyebrows at her. She sputters and her entire face reddens, and you laugh. 
“A-anyway,” She grabs two of the food containers, clearly trying to change the subject. “I made some food for the both of us. Steven taught me how to make a couple of basic things, but I didn’t taste test any of them.” 
“Oh, so you can poison us both at the same time?” You grab the container, and it has what looks like potato salad in it. “This looks fine, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.” She leans closer to you and peers into the container, shrugging. 
“I don’t know much about human food so I wasn’t sure if it looked okay. I don’t have a whole lot to go off of.” She grabs two forks and sticks them into the container. “Let me at least open the rest of these before you try that.” She unstacks the others and opens them, setting down sandwiches, pasta, some cut up fruit, some cheese and cured meat, and some cookies. Damn, she outdid herself. You weren’t expecting all of this, or.. any of this, at all really. This was actually pretty well thought-out.
“Spinel. This all looks so good, the hell.” You say, going for one of the sandwiches and taking a bite. Ham, cheese, spinach, tomato, and some mustard? It tastes just fine. “Tastes good, too.”
“Thanks.” She sheepishly pulls out the other sandwich and takes a bite, shrugging. “Kind of hard to ruin a sandwich, though.”
“You know what? I’ll let you find the truth about that on your own. Believe me when I say, you can ruin ANY kind of easy food.” You say, taking another bite.
The two of you eat in silence for a couple minutes, while you gaze out at the sea. This was a good idea. The warm breeze makes your hair tickle your face, and you push some of it behind your ear. You see Spinel staring at you, and turn to make eye contact. She turns away swiftly. Hm.
“So,” You say abruptly, startling her a bit. “I’ve never asked. What’s your favorite color?” She laughs out loud at the sheer banality of the question.
“Hmm, you know,” She pauses and sets her fingers on her chin, thinking. “It used to be pink. Now.. not so much.” 
“Your new favorite color could be like..” You trail off while looking around you, and you spot a couple of small wildflowers nearby. You point them out to her. “Yellow, like that.” She scrunches her nose.
“No, too bright. Maybe I should go for something more cool-toned.” “Don’t you already have a few other colors you like? You know, you can’t just choose a favorite color. You gotta actually like it.” You say to her, eyebrow raised. 
“I like plenty of other colors! I just don’t know yet, I guess. Ask me again in a week.” She replies. “Anyway, you never answered, so.” 
“It’s pink.” You say.
“What?” She says in disbelief.
“Yeah, you know. Like your gem.” You take a couple bites of some pasta. It’s nice and zesty. She’s staring at you like you’ve grown another head. “What?” You say with a mouthful of food. “It’s always been my favorite. Dad used to get me everything in that color.” You think you see her cheeks redden, but you’re too busy eating to really notice. After a few moments, you hear a ringing noise coming from Spinel.
“Huh.” She says, and pulls her phone out of her pocket. You glance at the screen, and it’s Blue Diamond. Spinel stares at the screen for a few brief seconds, and swipes the call away. She pockets her phone again. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to deal with that.”
“You think she’s calling about needing you over at Homeworld?” You ask her, poking at a few pieces of pineapple. She shakes her head.
“Probably.. maybe. I have no idea, actually. But I’m in a good mood and I don’t want her to ruin it.” “Yeah.. that’s fair.” You chew your food thoughtfully, and stretch your legs out in front of you on the blanket. With the sun above you, and the food settling in your stomach, you honestly just want to lay down and take a nap. “I could call her back if you wanted, and like, I don’t know, tell her off?” You offer, and she laughs.
“I don’t think Blue would take it very well, especially coming from a human, and one she doesn’t know.”
“Offer still stands.” You say. “And besides. She's never met me, so."
"I think it's in your best interest to maybe steer clear from their bad side." 
"You don't think I could take on a couple of aliens!?" You say in mock offense.
"Do you have any special powers I don't know about?" She smirks, and uncaps the thermos. It looks like some sort of soup inside. 
"I have this uncanny ability to make people fall in love with me." You reply as she's taking in a mouthful of soup, and she nearly chokes on it, sputtering. 
"You have got to be the most ridiculous human I have ever met." She says while wiping her mouth, and sets the thermos down in front of her.
“I’d say the same to you, but I’ve spent enough time around Peridot.” At that she laughs super hard, and you grab the thermos and take a small sniff. It’s a homemade chicken soup with some vegetables, which is pretty safe by all means, so you take a sip. It’s probably the best you’ve tasted in a while, honestly. “You know, this is actually really good. Most of the people I know can’t even cook at a basic level like this. And they’re human and need to EAT to survive, which is pretty ironic,” You pause to take another sip. “That a gem is more wife material than most of the humans around here.” You kind of realize what you just said after it came out of your mouth, so you quickly shove some potato salad into your face to hide your embarrassment. You hope she didn’t pay too much attention to that bit at the end.
    You chew your food nervously for a moment, before looking up to meet Spinel’s gaze. Her face is comically blank, like she forced any expression off it, and she’s staring in the general direction of your mouth.
“You’ve got something on your cheek.” She states, and points to the corner of your mouth. You wipe off your face, and give her another look. “It’s still there.” You wipe again and raise your eyebrow at her. ��It’s, ugh, let me,” She says in frustration and leans right over into your personal space, swiping the corner of your mouth with her thumb. You feel your face heating up immediately, and mutter a thanks to her. She only leans back slightly, very much still in your personal space, and smirks at you.
“W- what?” You stammer, like a complete fool.
“Nuthin’. You’re just cute when you’re all flustered.” She replies, grinning at you.
“Cute!?” You all but yell in response, and give her a small shove to the side playfully. You guess you caught her completely off-balance, because you just managed to tip her over, and she’s howling in laughter much to your distress. You’re watching her fit of giggles die down as she’s holding her sides, half of her face pressed into the grass. 
    Something deep down kind of clicks in place that you’ve been trying and failing to itch at for months now. Watching Spinel’s gem sparkle in the sunlight as she lays there, catching her breath, you think that maybe, it would be so easy to fall in love with her. And maybe you have already, just a little.
    The two of you spend the next hour or so making various amounts of small talk with the occasional bout of teasing each other, before you agree that it was time to head home. 
    The walk back is nice, and you find yourself cherishing your time with her quite a lot. You don’t really want it to end, but you do have to run a couple errands after this. You turn to Spinel walking beside you.
“Do you wanna hang out again soon?” You ask her. She looks a bit surprised that you asked again, but pleased nonetheless.
“I’d love to.” She smiles. “Do you want me to be the one who chooses what we do again?”
“No, let me choose this time.” “Mmm, yeah, okay.” She bumps your shoulder with hers on purpose, her ponytail swinging lightly.
“Also, you should text me more. I’m going to spam you with pictures of Jellybean, and you’ve got to look at all of them. Otherwise, we’re not friends.” You bump her shoulder back, and she snorts.
“I think I’m getting the hang of human tech, so.. I’ll try my best.” She replies as the two of you pass by a couple of houses leading up to yours. “Today was fun, by the way. So.. thanks for spending time with me.” The both of you walk up to your front door, and you turn to face her.
“Don’t thank me. It was all my idea anyway, and you just went along with it. I’m just happy you agreed to try something new.” You say to her, reaching for your keys. 
“You’ll keep in touch, yeah?” She nervously fiddles with the hem of her shirt, not meeting your eyes.
“I’m gonna text you in twenty minutes. Count on it.” You move to unlock the door, struggling to get the key in the deadbolt. Once you wiggle it enough it unlocks pretty easily. You turn to say goodbye to Spinel, and you feel something soft and warm on your cheek. She pulls away so quickly you barely catch it.
“I’ll see ya soon!” She shouts, already at the end of your driveway, and keeps walking until you can no longer see her.
You stand there with your door open, completely frozen on your porch. You get your shit together after a few moments so the neighbors don’t stare, and head inside. You close the door and lean against it, unable to comprehend what just happened. You pull out your phone to text your friends.
    Y/N: Can one of ya’ll bastards call life alert.
145 notes · View notes
leahxx129 · 4 years
Text
The Last Descendant (Sam Winchester x Reader) pt.5/Final Chapter
Disclaimer: Tumblr is being weird again so if you’re using the app, the ‘Keep Reading’ cut off line may not be visible inspite of the fact that I always insert one.
Hi everyone! I originally planned on posting this on Friday but your girl is a busy bee and had some personal stuff to take care of. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy the final part to this story, I had lots of fun writing it.
Summary to pt.5: You’ve managed to win a battle against Michael in the woods, but the war is not over just yet. He’s powerful - more than anyone you’ve ever encountered - but you also have some aces up your sleeve.  
Warnings: slight cursing, character death
Word count: 2.140-ish
PART 1.  PART 2.  PART 3.  PART 4.
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As the angels have disappeared, the force holding you flat against the trees dissipates, causing you all to fall to your knees. The first thing you realize when you get up is that there’s only three of you left – Kaia’s taken off without prior notice. Your blood runs cold for a minute but then you find the spear in the tall grass where you threw it. Sam makes sure everyone is well enough to travel and following Jody’s suggestion, you drive to her place.
It’s already dark when you pull up in her driveway. Neither you nor Sam have said a single word throughout the ride and as the engine dies, you feel an urge to change this.
“Sam...” you put a hand on his thigh “I’m gonna do everything I can in order to replicate the spear and we’ll get him back, okay? I promise.”
He puts his large one over yours and squeezes it.
“I know, Y/N. Now, let’s get inside and take a look at your wound.”
The interior of Jody’s house reminds you of your childhood home, and a sense of nostalgia washes over you, mixed with hope that one day even you can have something like this. Maybe with Sam. Who knows?
“Alright, the guest room is ready.” Jody informs you, pulling you out of your thoughts. “A bathroom opens directly from it, clean towels can be found in the cabinet. And if you’re hungry there’s food in the fridge, knock yourself out.”
“Thanks, Jody.”
“As for you, Sam, I’m sorry, but I don’t have any more guest rooms, so you’re stuck with the couch.” she pouts.
“It’s okay, uhm, we’re kind of used to sleeping together.” Sam flashes an awkward smile.
Jody appears startled for a second but soon regaines composure.
“In that case, excuse me for a second. I need to prepare another set of pillows in the guest room.”
When everything’s all set you decide to scrub off the combination of dirt, blood and sweat that’s defiling your body. Usually you shower with an almost boiling hot water, but this time you must settle for medium temperature as the scars and bruises don’t really appreciate the heat. You nearly punch Sam in the face when he pulls the floral shower curtain open, but realizing it’s him, you’re able to stop yourself in time.
“God, Sam, do not do that again! I ain’t the screaming kind of scared, I’m the might-break-your-nose kind of scared.”
“Noted!” he smiles, stepping into the bathtub.
You don’t question what he’s doing in there with you. Maybe for the first time ever in your life, you let someone else take control of a situation, and to much of your surprise, you discover it’s not that bad. He gently cleanses every inch of your body, with special attention to the scars.
“You know, I really think your shoulder could use a couple of stitches.” he whispers. You can hear a little worry in his tone.
“Nah, I’ve had worse I didn’t patch up and I’m still around.” you reply, swiping aside a wet strand of hair that was sticking to his forehead and you kiss him softly.
When you’re all finished, you dress up in the clothes Jody left you on the foot of the bed and pick up the spear from the corner of the room.
“Whoah, what are you doing?” Sam asks incredulously.
“Well, what does it look like I’m doing?” he opens his mouth to speak but you continue “You know what, don’t answer that. I’m gonna go to the garage and try to replicate this.”
“No, you’re not. Look, sweetheart, let’s be sensible here. You haven’t slept in a long time and I can assure you that the world’s not gonna end in those few hours when you do. I talked to Cas and he was able to track down Michael in Missouri. If anything happens, we’ll know firsthand. You need to be strong both mentally and phyisically to do what you’re about to… you know I’m right, so don’t fight it!” he delivers a lecture while taking the weapon out of your hand.
You pull a face but give in to his reasoning anyway. This time you manage to get three full hours of sleep before the nightmares start tainting your subconscious. Terrifying images you haven’t seen in a long time flood your mind, and you successfully wake the whole house up with your screams. You can hear Sam’s soothing vocie and Jody’s nervous inquiries about your well-being before you fully come around.
“I’m…I’m alright. I’m fine, really.” you stutter unconvincingly while running a hand through your hair. “Uhm, Jody?”
“Yeah?”
“Could you please show me your garage? I’ll collect the tools from Sam’s car and get right down to work.”
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The weapon contains an ancient magic you’ve never encountered before, or even anything similar to it. The runes carved into the shaft belong to a language uknown to you, making your job all the more difficult.  Nevertheless, you try your best, as always. First, you recreate the shape of the spear and its head, then join the two together. Replicating the runes requires the most time – you only realize just how much when the first lights of morning illuminate the garage and Sam brings you breakfast. You take a few bites of your toast and drink your coffee in one gulp.
“Okay, so here goes everything…” you mutter as you begin performing a spell, which should transfer some of the magic from the original weapon into the replica. The incantation you recite next supposedly enhances the transferred magic.
“It looks like the same to me.” Sam states when you show them your work.
“Yeah, and it also possesses that creepy vibe the original one does.” Jody nods in agreement.
“Good. Hopefully, it’ll work just as well, too. Let’s visit Missouri and kick some archangel ass, shall we?” you propose.
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You must give it to Michael – he has exceptionally good taste. Both the exterior and interior of the building he chose as temporary residence radiates elegance. You meet up with Cas and a boy in the underground parking lot. You furrow your brows.
“Who’s the kid?” you glance between Sam and the angel, the latter moving infront of the boy as you speak.
“Uhm, his name is Jack. Also, he happens to be the son of satan.” Cas replies.
Out of reflex, you touch the side of your overknee boots looking for your knife but ease off almost immediately and extend an arm towards the boy. Cas eyes you with suspicion.
“Don’t worry, Castiel, I’m not gonna attcak him.”
He seems hesitant but eventually steps aside, allowing you to shake Jack’s hand.
“I’m Y/N. Y/N Colt.”
His eyes widen.
“Colt? Are you related to Samuel Colt?” your nod sends him over the edge “Oh, wow! This is soo cool! I’m Jack! You must have some awesome stories to tell! When this is over, could you tell me all of them?”
“I’d absolutely love to, Jack!” you smile at his child-like enthusiasm, doubting that a sweet kid like him could be related to the Devil himself.
“Alright, I think we should go over the plan one more time.” Sam changes the subject.
You talk everything over one last time - including the intel on the monsters Sam got from a friend named Garth - and enter the elevator that takes you to the top floor. You feel like the tension could be cut with a knife.
An empty, silent hall welcomes you as you exit.
“Michael is the only one I can sense.” Cas whispers.
“I’m not sure if that’s a good thing.” you whisper back.
You all take feather light steps until you reach a double-winged door and Cas nods, confirming the archangel’s location. Sam kicks in the door in a blink of an eye. A well-dressed Michael is staring out the window, holding a glass of some probably expensive booze.
“Welcome!” he greets, turning to your direction. “Well, well, well… what do we have here? The Three Muskateers? If so, I have to admit, Y/N, you are the loveliest d’Artagnan I have ever laid my eyes upon.”
“Oh my God, just cut the crap or else I’m gonna vomit!” the words slip out before you could think them through.
As a result, Michael’s face hardens even more and he extends an arm in the height where your neck would be, casting an invisible force that pulls you straight into his grip.
Sam yells out your name in desperation.
“Oh, don’t worry, Samuel. I am not going to snap her pretty little neck. Although, my fingers may leave a bruise.” Michael exclaims innocently then averts his gaze back to you.
You find it hard not to try stripping his fingers from your neck with both hands, but there’s no other way. One hand is on his but with the other one you sign three behind your back – the catcher singal for a slider in baseball. Sam catches on, takes the spear out of Castiel’s trenchcoat and throws it to you. But before you could sink the tip in Michael’s body, he snatches the weapon and breaks it in half with one hand.
“Did you honestly believe it was going to be that easy to take me down?” he asks with utter disbelief. “The way you underestimate me is quite offensive.”
“Let her go, Michael.” Jack speaks up.
“I don’t think so, child. In fact, here’s what’s going to happen!” he looks right into your eyes “I am going to kill all of them – in which order, that’s your call – and then I will release my monster army on this city with you by my side. I think this vessel is handsome enough, you’ll grow used to him, darling.”
“Yeah, he may be handsome… but I kinda have a thing for his brother, asshole!”
Before he can react, you stab him in the chest with the knife from your boots. He looks down at the shaft smiling but it soon fades into an expression of sheer panic. He lets go of you and tries to pull the weapon out.
“Did you honestly believe we didn’t have a plan B? The way you underestimate us is quite offensive...” you retort.
“What’s happening?! I demand to know!” he bellows, confused.
“I upgraded my favorite blade a little. Now it has the magic of the spear from that other dimension, too. You like it?”
He screams out in agony while his whole body is lighting up with a blue-ish white blaze. You take a couple of steps back and bump into Sam, who envelopes you in a shielding embrace. Cas and Jack try to cover their eyes as the brightness has risen to an extent that’s almost blinding. Michael’s shrieking finally dies out with a huge energy explosion that busts out all the windows in the suite.
He is gone and the only thing he left behind is a very much so bleeding Dean Winchester on the floor.
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Dean is slowly opening his eyes. The fluorescent neon lights, the white walls and the beeping of machines tip him off regarding his whereabouts – he’s in a hospital. He tries to rip the needle out of his arm, but Sam prevents him from doing so.
“Hey, no! Stop!”
“Sam? Wha- what happened? Where am I?”
“Uhm, long story short, Y/N killed Michael and injured you in the process, so you are in a private clinic in Missouri.”
“Private clinic? You know damn well we can’t afford that stuff!”
“You may not be able to, but I can.” you appear in the door with two cups of coffee, one of which you hand to Sam while sitting down on a chair next to him.
“Uhm, we appreciate the offer, really, but we can’t accept it.” Dean says in protest without a beat.
“Hey… I almost killed you, I believe this is the least I can do.”
There’s a stare-down between the brothers and Dean’s the one to break the connection first.
“Alright, thank you.” he mumbles eventually, then checks his bandage by looking down the inside of his hospital robe.
“Uhm, question. Based on the place of the wound, how am I not dead right now?”
“Well, I know how to stab someone without killing them... Which is probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever said to anyone, so let’s pretend it never left my mouth, please.”
Both men chuckle lightly, and you feel a little heat rise to your cheeks.
“Hot, feisty and funny? Sam, you better not mess this up or I’ll snatch her right out of your hands.” Dean comments jokingly and this time, it’s your turn to laugh and Sam’s to blush.
“Don’t worry about that, Dean…” he intertwines his fingers with yours “I won’t. I kinda have a thing for her…”
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shellsan · 5 years
Text
30 Day Writing Challenge
Day Twenty-Two: Sleepiness
Fandom: Ghost Hunt
Pairing: Mai/Naru Implied
Disclaimer: I do not own Ghost Hunt.
Sleepiness
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Yawning, Mai blinked at the sight of her blurry desk, trying to force herself not to fall asleep.
“Tea,” She decided. That was what she needed.
Pushing away from the desk, she moved towards the kitchen, brewing herself some tea, and some for Naru as well. He hadn't called for any yet, but he probably would be soon.
It was a slow Saturday, nothing but filing for her to do, and Naru tended to drink twice as much tea on those day, although she never understood why.
Humming in an attempt to wake herself up, she waited for the tea to steep, before finishing fixing them and placing her cup on her desk, moving to knock at Naru's door and let herself in.
Placing it down, she didn't bother waiting for him to say anything, too tired to even note the surprise that was on his face for a short moment.
Moving to sit at her desk once more, she took a sip of her tea, sighing at the familiar flavour of green tea.
Slapping her cheeks quickly to help wake herself up, she turned her eyes towards the stack of files she had left to file away. How they ended up with this much was beyond her, considering the lack of cases they'd had recently, but she didn't dwell on the subject.
Putting them away carefully, despite their number she was done all too soon, and her tea was empty.
Blinking heavily, she tried to force the concept of sleep from her mind, but her body didn't seem inclined to agree.
Before she could really register what was happening, her head was falling onto the desk, hitting a little harder than was healthy, her eyes completely closed as she fell into a deep state of sleep.
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At the sound of something hitting wood, Naru frowned.
Mai had been a little bit off for the past couple weeks, more tired than usual. He'd caught her sleeping almost twice as much as usual and he didn't want to mention it to her, but he was beginning to get worried.
Frowning at his now empty tea cup – that he hadn't even had a chance to call for – he pushed himself away from the desk. He would go out and check on her before demanding more tea.
If nothing else, her irritation might wake her up some more.
Stepping out into the main room, he turned Mai's desk and was unsurprised to realise that the loud noise he'd heard moments before had been her head hitting the desk.
Moving closer, he frowned at how pronounced the bags under her eyes were.
Maybe it wouldn't hurt to leave her for a little while.
Going into the kitchen, he started the kettle to make himself some tea. It wouldn't be as good as Mai's, but he would have to make do just this once.
It wasn't long before he was sitting at his desk once more, losing himself in his work.
A little under an hour passed since he'd let Mai fall asleep and Naru was considering waking her up when he heard her voice.
Frowning at the low murmur, he pushed himself from his desk, stepping into the main room once more.
Mai's face was screwed up, eyes still shut.
“No, stop. Don't go with him. Please – stop.” She muttered, voice getting a little more hysterical with every word.
A dream?
Getting closer to her, he placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking her lightly.
“Mai. Wake up.”
For a moment, nothing changed and Naru thought he was going to have to do something more, but then the brunette's eyes shot open, panicked chocolate orbs meeting frosty blue eyes that held concern.
“Naru?” She asked, confused as her mind tried to catch up before she shot up, knocking his arm away. “Oh no, I fell asleep again, didn't I? I'm so sorry Naru. I'll go get you some more tea.”
She practically fell over herself trying to leave the room, stumbling a couple times as she forced her weary body into the kitchenette to get things going, flicking on the kettle to heat the water.
“Mai.”
Jumping at Naru's voice, Mai turned to face him.
“I'm so sorry-”
“Mai.”
“-it won't happen again. I hate coffee but maye I should start drinking it to help me stay awake.” She consirdered, rambling over Naru's attempts to speak.
Glaring in annoyance, he stepped closer and put his hand over her mouth, cutting off another apology.
“Are you going to let me speak now, if I take away my hand?” He asked after a moment, a little amused at the wide eyed look that he was being given at current.
Nodding a little, Mai breathed but kept silent when Naru pulled his hand away.
“You're not in trouble. I just need to know what you were dreaming about?”
Mai frowned, why would Naru care about that?
“Mai.”
Wincing at the open displeasure in his voice, she sighed.
“It's just a stupid dream I've been having for the past couple of weeks. There's a little boy and he agrees to go with this woman, but somehow I know she's bad and I keep trying to stop him from going but he always does  it any way. It's just a dream.”
“How often do you get dreams like this?” He asked, suspicions rising.
Mai shrugged. “I never used to, but I've been getting them on occasion for the past year-ish. Over the last couple of months they've happened a lot more though, sometimes multiple times for the same, other times new ones. They keep me from sleeping properly for some reason. But I've never had the same dream for this one.” She mused, eyebrows creasing as she considered everything.
“How long have you been having this particular dream?”
Biting her lip, Mai thought about it. “For just under three weeks I think? It's no big deal.”
Naru shook his head at her thought process, and cursed the fact that none of them had thought to consider this up until now.
“Is it possible that these are psychic dreams, being brought on by spirits in your area?” He suggested finally, although he was mostly sure of the answer already.
Mai blinked in surprise. “I... hadn't really considered it before now. But yeah, they do actually feeling like the dreams I have on cases.” She frowned.
“Idiot. If you'd told me about this sooner then we could have avoided all this.”
Glaring, Mai crossed her arms. “How was I supposed to know that I'd get these outside of cases? You've never explained much about my abilities to me at all.” She pointed out angrily.
Naru wanted to dispute that, but couldn't help but agree. It had been a major oversight on his part. “Which I will be fixing soon enough. For now, since we can't focus too much on your control for the moment, I'll look into finding a charm to block you off from the spirits. You should be able to get some rest then.” He informed her, turning to exit the kitchenette.
“Thanks, Naru.” Mai murmured.
“And Mai?”
Mai tilted her head at her boss who was glancing at her over his shoulder. “Yes?”
“Tea.”
Instead of grumbling, Mai only rolled her eyes.
“Okay.” She agreed. If he could stop her constant dreams, she would make him all the tea he wanted.
Like she had a choice.
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What do you want? (1)
words: 2200(ish)
triggers/warning: mention of death, graphic violence, blood(nothing too graphic or explicit yet), curses(because it’s Bakugo).
summary:
Katsuki works alone, he hasn’t need anyone’s help before, why would he need it now?
Well it wasn’t really an option anymore.
Or a Buddy Cop AU
a/n: Okay so this is completely based and inspire by @soyunpochoclin hcs, because i’m weak and it was a great idea. I hope I made it justice. I did it while I was traveling on my notes for the most part, which is why it’s kinda short...i’ll make the rest of them longer(i’ll try).
Anyway sorry if there are any mistakes, I tried correcting any but English is not my first language, and thanks for reading :D.
2nd part-->
***
"I don't fucking need a partner.'" Katsuki sneered, his face deepening into disgust, "Never have before, and don’t need it now." He turned around, walking into the door, hands deep in his pockets.
"I wasn't asking Bakugo," Aizawa declared just before Katsuki could kick the door open, "I was only telling you." In one leg Katsuki turned his right hand out and already twitching. "It's not a suggestion, it's an order."
"Huh?" He lets his right hand fall into the dark wood of the desk, disturbing the empty cups of coffee and pencils around it, "An order?" His voice loud and rough, demanding.
Aizawa sighed, he tried to smooth the frown in between his own eyebrow, but it seemed to be engraved with the rest of the few wrinkles in his face. When he looked back at Bakugo, he pushed back the two pieces of his hair falling on his face.
"Bakugo, you are good at your job-"
"The hell I am!" Katsuki jumped quickly, "Which is why I don't need a damn partner!" He stood back straight, or as straight as he usually would, lifting his hand to the ceiling finally letting a few sparks from it.
"But if you can't follow an order I'm afraid I'll have to let you g-" Bakugo open his mouth to complain even before he finished until a knock cut them both.
It took less than second after Aizawa lets them in for, what Katsuki could only describe as fucking blinding, person to pull his head from behind the door. His red bright hair was slick back with a blue and white bandana to match with his uniform eyes lined and twinkling, big and bright, surprisingly sharp, smile. Too fucking bright.
“Good afternoon!” He bowed to both of them, “I'm looking for Bakugo Katsuki?" He asked, once back standing, scratching the back of his head with the hand free of a folder.
Katsuki sneered and put his hand back in his pocket to stare back at Aizawa. "Is this really what I'm being paired with?" He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, “Tsk.”
"Bakugo." Aizawa spat a warning, "Play nice."
Immediately the guy turned to Katsuki, not even reacting or minding Katsuki’s comment. “My name is Kirishima Ejirou, nice to meet you.” Bakugo only looked down to him and sneered.
“I work alone, I don’t need a partner.” Bakugo insisted one last time, talking one step to the desk, leaving Kirishima behind and without an answer.
This time Kirishima did notice, did mind; he frowned at Bakugo. It was clear to Ejirou that this guy didn’t care at all. By the untamed nature of his hair, the lack of order on his uniform, his shoulders down and relax and general slouch way of standing in a way that probably would gain Ejirou a hit in the back of his neck from his mother, it was easy to tell. Why was he assigned a case this important to someone like him?
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kirishima-san.” Aizawa finally stood, bowing just slightly to Kirishima, “Inspector Aizawa Shouta.”
“A pleasure, sir.” Kirishima caught up next Bakugo.
“Now,” Aizawa turned back to Bakugo, “It isn’t a request Bakugo, you’ll have to work together or you are fired,” Bakugo looked away, clenching his teeth, “Understood?”
“Aja aja” He agreed finally turning away, tucking his hands back to his pockets.
Aizawa sigh, sitting back down, “He is a good cup, you just have to be patient, he is just…just hard to work with”
“Yeah…I can see that…” Kirishima stared as Bakugo walked away. It took him a few seconds to react and finally go after Bakugo.
As the door close behind him, Aizawa could only pray nothing went too wrong. It had been too long since Bakugo last had a partner. Not since…not that it was that different back then, from today. He had never interested on working with other people, or interested in other people for that matter. The difference now is that his loneliness isn’t only based on the indifference on people but something else rooted on him, that’s what Aizawa feared.
***
Bakugo didn’t stop until he was on his desk, even though he could hear the guy calling him behind. Instead, he sat down and turned to organize the papers on the desk until Kirishima finally caught up. He looked down to Bakugo’s annoyed face. As he laid the papers down, Ejirou noticed how neat the rest of the desk was.
He shook his head, focusing back on what he had to say. “Are you familiar with the case?”
“What the fuck makes you think that?” Ejirou took a deep breath in.
“Well, please do, there’s a lead I need us to check out tonight but you need to be familiar with the case,” Kirishima rested his body on Katsuki’s desks, his hips falling just next to Katsuki’s face, “It shouldn’t be so hard, there’s no a lot to go on.”
Katsuki stood up, avoiding Ejirou’s face, a turning to the exit. “Then you’ll have to give me a summary.” He sneers walking down the door.
Ejirou doesn’t like this dynamic of chasing him whenever he exits a room.
***
When the case was first given to Ejirou, he was shock rather than anything else, even though he was warned before entering the storage unit. There were nothing but bodies in every state, from cut and deform to completely untouched but a number of holes from a syringe, but what worried Ejirou more were the dry patches of blood with no source or the ones with only ashes on top. Even more, though, there was nothing aside from the bodies. No trace left to follow after, no trace of who was there before and what was going there.
The storage unit had been abandon by a close factory a couple years ago, which only meant that the activity was recent, also confirmed by the states of the bodies found on the factory. Although that didn’t really give any trace or the perpetuators.
“Tsk, so there are basically no leads then?” Katsuki pushed the door, with a ring following them.
“Well…” Ejirou is almost ashamed to say so, not with Bakugo looking at him as if it was his fault, “There’s an eye witness of a girl walking outside the storage unit, and well I thought on searching on the cameras from stores around here, maybe…”
Bakugo clicked his tongue and walked directly to the casher, “Oi!” He hit the table, calling for their attention. The person on the cashier jumped to the sound, and then again when they saw Bakugo.  Bakugo let his hand sparkle on the table, smiling(almost too much in Ejirou’s opinion) asking for the footage. He presents himself probably not necessary, the person looks so scare they just might have give it to him without Bakugo identifying himself.
The person walked to a corner, behind the large counter at the end of the store, to a small computer; relieve of leaving Bakugo on the other side.
“So have you seen anything strange or out of place around here?” Kirishima finally talked, turning around, leaning into the counter.
“The other day, there were a lot of cups around the old fabric, but I’m guessing that’s why you are here…” They laughed, just slightly, nervous.
Ejirou hummed in affirmation, looking around. The store was small, with only one costumer at the moment. Only four shelves, two each side leaving the entrance directly in front of the cashier, the fridge on the left wall for vegetables or frozen foods, and empty on the other side.
“How about a…” Ejirou opens his notepad, and tried to read his own scribbles, “…a blond, a small girl, school uniform?”
“Oh yeah!” They answer immediately, pulling the memory up fast, “She usually comes once a week, buys food for at least…7 people maybe…” They hesitated, once Kirishima asked for more information, “She’s kind of hard to forget…she has wide smile as if it belonged permanently in her face…” They stopped using the computer to use their hand to mimic a big smile with their hands, as if pulling the ends of their thin lips, “…but not like happy, it’s like she’s mocking you…”
Kirishima turned to the door as soon as it rang. It’s more than a second after when he calls her, “Miss, excuse me!” And half of second before she stars running. Less than that Kirishima it’s already behind her, “Bakugo, it’s her!” He announced only when he was pushing the door.
“Shitty hair, what the fuck?!” He heard Bakugo running behind him.
Ejirou locked his eyes on the girl running only a couple people in front of them. Quickly she was three people up front, then four. Bakugo had caught up to him, firing explosions to the sky, possibly to keep away people out of their way, which honestly Ejirou thanked. It was clear why she had chosen this hour if she planned to run away. Even with Bakugo yelling, it’s still hard running with those just standing.
They only caught up go her when she reached a street with cars running too fast for her to cross. This leaves her trapped in a circle of shocked people.
Kirishima turned to Bakugo for a second, his eyes locked on the girl, determined. Hands tense and ready to blow her up. The girl also notices and laughs. Like she’s mocking, Ejirou remembers.
“Stop!” Kirishima ordered, but she only laughed covering her mouth. Her yellow eyes resembled those of a cat in the street, unaligned and wild. Small hands and long nails reached for something in her back. “We just want to talk!”
He heard Bakugo sneer, “As if.”
The girl throws a syringe in Bakugos direction, he is quick to avoid it, let it fall to the ground and lift his hand, tense and itching. “Bakugo, no!” He turns to the warning and Kirishima signals the people.
“Huh? You don’t want to play?” Her voice was high pitched, sickeningly sweet, as she threw another 2 syringes to Bakugo.
He jumped with a small explosion to the floor, before they hit him. He hit the wall of the building next to him. “What are you doing?” Katsuki turned to the people next to him, “Run!” The line of people against the building started running away, some using their quirks, others as fast their legs let them to do so. Bakugo run to start of it, to change directions of any syringe that were to hit any civilian.
“You go for her! I’ll take it.” He hears the guy’s voice next to him. When he turned, Bakugo found the soft curves of his face had been replaced with sharp edges. He doesn’t have to tell Bakugo twice, by then he was already flying with his hands stretched behind his back.
Katsuki smiled, finally a way free way.  He impulsed himself forward, avoiding the syringes that managed to make his way to him. Just as he was about to reach her the cars stop. She started running again. She turned into an alleyway. Even if the power distributes when he uses both of his hands, it’s enough to impulse him in a few seconds to the other side of the street, with a explosion from his right he turns, straight to the entrance. He stops. The victorious smile falls. He turned and there was no one that even resembles the girl running just moments before.
It took Ejirou a minute to catch up to Bakugo. He finds Bakugo standing of a bleeding man, on the floor. Noticeably angry. He sprints to kneel next to the man. Still breathing.
He sighs. “Bakugo, he nee-”
“On their way shitty hair.” He answered in between his teeth, still looking around.
“How did she manage to get away?” It wasn’t meant to be answered but he swore he could hear Bakugos clenching his teeth even harder at the question.
“I don’t know.” He mutters as if the words were forced of his throat.
Kirishima looked back to the man in silence.
So…
***
“…we are back to cero!” Bakugo yelled, clenching all the notes of the case in his hand, standing up from his desk.
“We know the syringes are the ones that cause the holes in several of the bodies, she is related to the case.” Kirishima reminded from the borrowed chair they had moved next to Bakugo’s desk.
Bakugo turned, clenching the papers even more. Red eyes fired up. “That would’ve been useful if we would've caught her idiot!”
“Hey, dude, calm down we just need to-” His eyes fall down to his notepad. The notes. “You don’t buy groceries from a neighborhood you just moved.” He takes the notebook.
“What the fuck are you mumbling hairs for brai-?”
“The cashier said she usually bought groceries there, and she came back today.” Bakugo stared confused as Kirishima stood up, “You are not going to buy groceries from a neighborhood you don’t live in, besides she was walking there, not driving...That means…”
“They haven’t left the area.” Bakugo finished with him, “That’s fucking genius Kirishima!”
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plusultra-anime · 7 years
Text
The Cat Dragged In
A Destiel minific (or at least, it was supposed to be mini but it ran away with me a little). This is going to be posted up on AO3 just as soon as I can get an account, but for now, here’s the first chapter (1/3). (Feedback welcome/reblogs appreciated)
Supernatural Pairing: Dean x Cas / Destiel  Based off (but not really sticking to) a prompt from @dailyau / @ashesinyourhair: “How the hell does your cat keep getting into my house AU” Word count: 3.2k ... ish  Warnings: a bit of swearing
The Cat Dragged In
 “—Jee-heesus! … Fuck.”
A black cat with eyes as green as a summer forest was sitting on the counter. Dean’s counter. The counter in Dean’s until-now-cat-free apartment. Dean pressed a hand to his chest and took a few steadying breaths. God, he hadn’t been expecting to see a cat when he turned the corner into the kitchen.
“Who the hell are you?” he muttered, approaching the counter slowly, reaching out a hand. The cat sniffed his fingers then pressed its cheek against his palm. He rubbed its fur. It was purring, a loud rumble, and it gave a harsh “myao” when he stopped.
“I don’t wanna be friends, dude,” Dean mumbled. He lifted up the tag on its collar so the writing would catch the light. 2B, it read, and following that was the name and address of Dean’s apartment building.
“Hm.” So it came from the apartment directly above. Weird. Dean had never heard anyone moving about up there so he had kind of assumed it was empty.
The cat stretched out, wriggling its toes and letting out a big yawn that showed needle teeth. It sprang down onto the floor, its claws making a soft click on the floor tiles as it landed, and started to rub itself on Dean’s leg.
“Mmmrraow!”
“You’re cute too buddy, but I gotta get you home before your owner starts worrying about you.”
And fuck knows how you got in here, he thought, tapping the countertop. Gotta have that damn widow lock checked.
Dean slid a hand under the cat’s belly and started to lift it, tucking his other hand under its butt to hold it against his chest. It was purring again, and the warm vibration was soothing. Dean kissed the top of its head and made a few soothing clicks with his tongue.
“Ok, buddy, let’s get you home.”
Dean tapped the door shut with his foot on the way out and climbed the stairs, muttering to the cat about how breaking into people’s apartments was wrong and how maybe he should get a dog to protect his home from invading felines. The cat replied in curt meows while sticking claws into Dean’s chest.
The hallway of floor 2 was a little dimmer than floor 1, with only one light in the stairwell and one at the far end of the hall. 2B was, of course, the second door down.
Dean shifted the cat’s weight so he could wriggle a hand free. He gave three sharp knocks and took a step back, casting a glance behind him and down the hall.
The lock clicked; the door of apartment 2B opened just a crack, and then a bit more.
“Lucifer!” A deep voice that reached right down to Dean’s toes and all the way back up again.
The guy looked a little scruffy, with dark messy hair and a blue tie that wasn’t quite tied properly. His shirt was wrinkled and his chin was dark with stubble. There was a little fleck of dried toothpaste on the corner of his mouth, and dark bags under eyes that shone sapphire. He had squinted at Dean, until he saw the cat. Then his whole body had softened and without another word he scooped Lucifer up from the crook of Dean’s arm.
“Found the little guy making himself at home in my kitchen,” Dean explained, crossing his arms.
“I’m sorry if you were inconvenienced.” 2B shifted his eyes to Dean’s face.
“I mean, if anything it showed me there’s a fault in my home security somewhere, so really I should be thanking … Lucifer.” He tried not to smile around the name as it came out of his mouth. “Is he named after Lucifer in that, uh … the Disney one?”
“No, he’s named after the devil,” 2B replied, deadpan. Dean couldn’t tell if he was joking. He tried a friendly smile.
“He’s that bad, huh?”
2B chuckled and gave Lucifer an affectionate scratch under the chin. “He can get up to mischief sometimes, that’s for sure.”
“No kidding. Well I’ll see you around, 2B. If he goes missing again, I’m right under you so, y’know. Feel free to knock.” 
***
The sun was just starting to rise, colouring everything that hazy grey-blue, when Dean next saw the guy from 2B. He was struggling with an armful of books, trying to open the front door but unable to manoeuver his hand into a position that would enable him to put the key in the lock. Dean, exhausted from too long a shift at the Red Rose, steeled himself for a social interaction that he really didn’t have the energy for, and jogged the last few paces to the door.
“I got it, don’t hurt yourself.”
“Thank you.”
Dean took out his key and unlocked the door, stepping through so he could hold it open.
“Could-?” 2B stopped himself, as Dean closed the door and started towards his apartment. He turned and gave 2B a questioning look.
“Could you open my apartment for me?” 2B finished, glancing away from Dean’s weary gaze. Dean let his eyes drop to the pile of books then looked at 2B’s face. He tried not to smile at his bashful expression.
“Yeah, no problem.”
They began to climb the stairs side by side. Dean’s legs ached from a long night of being on his feet and he yearned to crawl into bed and go out like a light, but he would feel terrible if he’d left 2B to struggle with that ridiculous pile of books.
When they reached the apartment, Dean took the key that was dangling from 2B’s hand and unlocked the door. He pushed it open and stepped aside so that 2B could enter, then leaned a hand against the doorframe.
“You gonna manage from here?” he asked, only half-joking.  
2B placed the books on an end table with care then exhaled heavily. “Yeah, thanks.”
Suddenly Dean could hear cats – multiple cats – meowing loudly from the depths of the apartment.
2B called out, “Yes, Papa’s home!” There was the clicking of claws on wood, and Dean peered round into the apartment to see three cats pouring into the front room. A small, confident tortoiseshell took the lead, followed by a fluffy white cloud of a cat – who eyed Dean warily – and black, sleek Lucifer padded along lazily behind them.
“You have three cats?” Dean raised his eyebrows.
“Seven,” 2B replied in a matter-of-fact tone. He bent down to pet the tortoiseshell, who was rubbing itself against his legs. “But some of them come and go as they please.”
Well that might explain how Lucifer got down to my apartment, thought Dean, although he still hadn’t found any place it could have got in.
2B straightened up and turned back to Dean. “Thank you for your help,” he said in that deep, flat voice. Dean took this as a dismissal. He nodded and patted the doorframe once.
“No problem. See you around 2B.”
2B chuckled. He watched his tall, tired-looking neighbour move down the hall a little before he closed the door with a gentle click. Lucifer was sitting at his feet, gazing at him intently. With a smile, 2B picked him up and looked him in the eyes.
***
“Papa’s home.” A door closes with a thud and there are cats meowing in the next room. Dean hears the clink of keys being thrown onto an end table and heavy, tired footsteps. He stands and the room focuses. A man is walking towards him, dishevelled dark hair, bright blue eyes and a wrinkled shirt. Dean smiles, he can feel warmth radiating towards him. The man smiles back, his nose crinkling at the top, and he stops a foot away from Dean. Dean feels a cat rubbing against his leg. The man is even closer now. A cat meows.
It meows but there’s something wrong with how it sounds. It’s nearer than it should be. Dean’s breath quickens. There’s something wrong, it’s not here it’s …
Real.
Dean jolted awake with a start, his breath coming sharp. The sun had set since he’d rested his head on the desk – just for a minute – and a quick glance at the clock on his computer told him he’d been asleep for a little under two hours.
Fuck.
He sat up and stretched out his arms. He rubbed his sore neck. Then he noticed Lucifer.
The cat paused in licking its legs to honour Dean with a glance. “Myao,” it said, before going back to its wash. Dean let out a heavy sigh that turned into a groan part way through.
“Come on, man, not today.” He rose and went to pick up Lucifer, who started purring against his chest.  On the way to the door, Dean picked up and pocketed his keys, grabbed his phone and double-checked the time. Hopefully he wouldn’t be late to his shift.
Dean half-ran up the stairs, cradling the cat as gently as he could, and rapped loudly on the door of apartment 2B.  
No answer. He waited a few more seconds and knocked again. Still no answer.
Must be out. Dean licked his lips. He hesitated. No, he would be late for work. He turned back to the stairwell and made his way back to his apartment, where he left Lucifer under strict instructions to behave, before rushing out and locking the door behind him.
It was almost five in the morning when he got back. He’d got a cute girl’s phone number and raked in some good tips this shift, so it was in good spirits that he walked the few blocks back to the apartment building.
As soon as he was home, Dean made himself a coffee. He told himself he was only going to work on his essay an hour before going to bed. He sat down in front of his computer and woke it up. As he worked, the sun began to rise, breaking the sky into hues of pink and gold.
There was a soft knock at the front door. Dean glanced up from the screen and frowned, not entirely sure whether he’d actually heard something. But then there was a second knock. He stood and stretched.
When he opened the front door, he was surprised to see 2B, looking sleepy in his wrinkled shirt and crooked tie.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” 2B started, “But I just got home and Lucifer wasn’t th-”
He stopped short as a loud “mrao” came from the bedroom. Dean winced as he realised he’d forgotten about the cat.
“Yeah, he’s here,” said Dean, his gaze flicking to 2B’s lips which were parted slightly, then up to his eyes which were bright despite the guy’s obvious fatigue. “He showed up right before I left for work but you weren’t in so I left him here, then … uh, forgot about him.”
2B gave a quiet laugh, his teeth showing and his nose crinkling. Dean felt himself chuckling too.
“Oh, he’s not going to be happy,” 2B said with a smile, running a hand through his messy hair.
“Do you want to come in? I was just gonna make some more coffee.”
“Thank you, I think I could use some caffeine.”
Dean stepped aside to let him in. 2B looked around the room carefully, as though taking note of everything.
“Make yourself at home,” Dean told him. He went over to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and yawned widely and comfortably. Only three hours until he’d have to leave for class. He should have slept, he knew, but hey, at least the essay was almost finished.  
“Hey 2B, do you take cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked, looking over his shoulder. 2B was sitting on the couch with Lucifer, who had appeared from wherever he’d been hiding. At Dean’s question, though, 2B stood, eliciting a “myao” from the cat.
“Yes, please,” 2B replied, walking over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the front room. He had undone a few buttons of his shirt and loosened his tie a little more, so it hung slightly more to the left. The bit of skin at the base of his throat, Dean noticed, was flushed, and there was a little colour in his cheeks too. Dean’s heart started to pound.
“It’s Castiel, by the way,” 2B continued. Dean furrowed his brow in confusion.
“What is?”
2B laughed. “My name. You keep calling me 2B. I’m Castiel.”
Dean felt a blush creep over his face and ears. God I need this coffee. “Oh. Castiel, huh? That’s a pretty unusual name.” He busied himself with making the coffee so Castiel couldn’t see him blushing at his own stupidity. It took him a full five seconds to remember in which drawer he kept the spoons. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester. Which actually sounds boring next to Castiel.”
He liked the way the word felt rolling out of his mouth. Castiel.
“My family is … a little strange.” Castiel gave a dry smile, and a shrug. Dean slid his coffee towards him over the counter and wrapped a hand around his own mug.
“I kind of assumed you just came from a family of cats,” Dean teased. Castiel’s eyes narrowed.
 They sat side by side on the couch, Dean cradling his coffee, and Castiel petting Lucifer, having placed his coffee carefully on the low table in front of them.
Watching Castiel’s hand moving over Lucifer’s smooth fur over and over, Dean felt a nagging sense of déjà vu. His pulse quickened a little. Lucifer was gazing at him intently.
Castiel shifted abruptly to reach for his coffee, and the spell was broken. With his thudding heart and a twang of adrenaline in his stomach, suddenly Dean was thinking of the box of cigarettes hidden in his dresser. It was rare for him to have a craving for a smoke, but there it was. And it had been a long night.
He cleared his throat. “Do you mind if I smoke? I wouldn’t usually but …”
“Long night?” Castiel offered him an understanding smile, his eyes sparkling, as he sipped his coffee. He waved his hand, which Dean took to mean he didn’t mind.
The cigarettes were in the bottom drawer where he kept his dress shoes, a gun and a beaten-up scrapbook. He kept them in there because he hardly ever went in there – out of sight out of mind, after all, and for the most part it worked. He took a single cigarette from the packet, as well as the lighter that was stowed beside it. He stifled another yawn as he made his way to the window in the front room.
Dean pushed the window open a bit then moved the latch, which allowed him to prop it open wider. He leaned out a little and brought the lighter to the cigarette, brought the cigarette to his lips.
Click. Whshh. He inhaled and took the smoke back, deeply.
 Castiel let his eyes focus on Dean’s mouth. A stream of smoke was pouring out, out of his mouth and out the window. Dean’s lips looked dry, and they wrinkled as he pulled on the cigarette again, blew out another lungful of smoke. His eyes fluttered shut, his long eyelashes resting on flushed cheeks. There was so much detail in his face Castiel could hardly bear it. Or perhaps it was just that Castiel was tired enough to notice too much detail. Either way, he couldn’t tear his eyes from Dean’s face.
His eyes opened again, burning moss green. He was turning his face to look out over the road to the stretch of park beyond. Castiel could hear a dog barking.
The early sunlight gave Dean’s face and jaw a soft, golden glow. The front of his grey t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat in places, and the plaid shirt he wore over it was rolled up to the elbows, exposing sturdy, tanned arms. One of his hands rested on the window sill and the other held the cigarette just an inch from his lips. The fabric of his shirt rippled ever so slightly in the breeze, which was bringing in the scent of Dean’s cigarette. One of his bare feet was scratching the calf of his other leg. And Castiel’s stomach was full of butterflies, as it had been ever since Dean had brought Lucifer home the first time.
“Y’know, Cas,” Dean started, turning his head to look at Castiel, “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid.” A smirk danced over his lips. Castiel’s stomach flipped and he glanced away, unsure whether Dean was joking or not.
 Dean blew smoke out of the corner of his mouth towards the open window and chuckled to himself. Castiel was blushing, which really hadn’t been the intended effect of his joke. But dammit, it was cute. Having taken a last, long drag, Dean held the smoke in and flicked the spent cigarette out of the window into the road. He exhaled slowly, then closed the window up. He returned to the couch and picked up his coffee cup, draining it completely.
“Anyway,” said Dean, keen to change the subject to abate the tension. “Why did you have all those books?”
Castiel looked up from his cup, his eyebrows pulled down, lips slightly apart.
“For … reading,” he answered carefully.
“For reading,” Dean repeated, “Like reading for pleasure?”
“Yes.” Castiel took a mouthful of his coffee.
“But you had, what, twenty books?”
“Uh, eleven. But yes, I’m working my way through the theology and mythology sections of the university library.”
Dean straightened up. “You go to the university?” How have we never crossed paths before? he thought. He was sure he would have noticed eyes that blue and a smile that bright if he’d seen it on campus.
“Well, I work in the library, night shifts.” He gestured to the coffee and raised his eyebrows at Dean. “But I’m hoping to start my Master’s this fall.”
Dean whistled low; he was impressed. “And here sit I, a lowly undergrad.” Castiel chuckled at this.
Lucifer stretched and gave a few low, grumbly remarks, as if to remind them he was there. Draining the last of his coffee, Castiel stood.
“Lucifer’s right, the cats need their breakfast. Thank you for the coffee.”
Dean rose too, and held out a hand for Castiel to shake. “It was a pleasure.”
Castiel’s hand was soft but his grip firm. There was a little roughness to his palm, and the sensation reached right down to Dean’s toes and back again. His breath was caught in his throat and he couldn’t look away from Castiel’s intense blue eyes. They drilled though him in a way that made Dean think Castiel could tell exactly what he was thinking.
Their hands parted, their fingers brushing against each other. Dean tried a smile, and though it felt forced, Castiel smiled back. Dean exhaled. Lucifer meowed.
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olderjustneverwiser · 8 years
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Can't Deny My Love (Sonny Carisi)
Masterlist
Hurray for collaboration fics! If you like this one, please head over to @lordhyorke and give her some love! Half the credit goes to her, (probably more than half, really, ‘cause this all stemmed from this post.) You can also read this on her Ao3 account here. 
NSFW and enjoy!
Word Count: 3,345 (it’s a long one, my friends)
Warnings: D/s relationship, the word ‘slut,’ spankings, rough-ish sex?
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‘Hey babe, I’m about 5 minutes away. See you soon!’
You shot that text off to Sonny as you got out of the subway. You two were finally going to go out with some friends tonight. Sonny had to cancel the last few times, and though you completely understood why, you had to admit it hurt a little every time he did. Still, you wouldn’t love him as much as you did if he wasn’t as dedicated to his job. It meant keeping people safe, and he wouldn’t be your Sonny if he wasn’t doing that.
“Hey! What’re you doing here?” Detective Rollins came over and gave you a hug.
“Hey Amanda! I’m just waiting for Sonny. Do you know where he is?” She frowned.
“Yeah, he’s in an interrogation. Should finish up soon, though.”
“Oh. Okay. I’ll wait right here for him, then.” You took a seat at his desk, hoping he could leave soon. Sonny was only running a few minutes behind so far, and that wasn’t bad. Your friends weren’t the most punctual people themselves, so there was no reason to worry. You pulled out your compact and touched up your makeup. You were putting away your lipstick when Sonny was walking towards you. You caught a whiff of him —the unmistakable scent of bergamot and cedar wood that reminded you of home.
You stood up, smoothing down your skirt and smiled, despite having a feeling about what news was coming your way. Sonny leaned in and kissed you gently. The look on his face spoke volumes.
“You look gorgeous, Doll…”
Your smile weakened. “…but?” Sonny slumped his shoulders and sighed. You knew he hated disappointing you, but it’s not as if you enjoyed being disappointed yourself.
“But, I have to stick around here for a while.”
“Do you really have to? Tonight?” You couldn’t help the note of hurt in your voice. Even though you quickly regained your composure, it was just long enough for Sonny to catch it. Hazards of dating a detective, you supposed.
“I know, we had plans, but this damn guy keeps changin’ his story.” He pulled you into a hug. “I’m so sorry. You know I’d rather be with you. I really thought I’d be done by now.”
You nodded, not moving away from his chest, you wanted to be as close to him as you could, especially since he wasn’t coming with you tonight.
He kissed the top of your head, “But don’t let me stop you from goin’ out. Go and have fun with your friends, okay?”
“Maybe I’ll find someone who doesn’t cancel on me so much,” You smirked at the look of panic on his face. “But I don’t think I’ll find anyone half as good as you.” You winked and kissed his cheek. “It’s honestly okay. I understand. You go and lock up the bad guy, I’ll see you at home.”
Sonny bent down and kissed you. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” You smacked his arm lightly.
“Just go and do your job before you’re stuck here all night!”
“Copy that, beautiful.” He kissed you one more time before heading back to the interrogation room.
Only fifteen minutes late, that wasn’t bad considering your wasted pit stop at the precinct. Your friends were already seated, and were waving you over. You smiled and sat down; noting a judgmental look on both of their faces.
“Alone again, I see?”
“Yeah, but he has a good reason.” You sighed, picking up the drink menu pretending to peruse it.
“Just like last time?”
“I think working to keep rapists and pedophiles off our streets is always a good reason. If he has to cancel a few dates to keep us safe, so be it!“
One of them raised their hands in defeat, “Fine, fine! You’re right.“
You smiled, “Good. Now can we please order some drinks?” As if on cue, your waiter made his way to your table and, damn, he was cute.
“Hey, ladies. What can I get you to drink?” He was smiling at all of you, but his eyes seemed to linger on you the longest. You smiled, and placed your order.
“I’ll take a gin and tonic, please.” Your friends followed suit. The server-come-bartender gave you a final look before heading off to make your drinks. It was probably a good thing Sonny had to work, since he wouldn’t have liked the way the bartender was staring at you.
The night went well, you and your friends had a great time catching up. You made sure not to have too many drinks, you didn’t want to be too incapacitated on your way home.  Soon enough it was time for the bill, and one of your friends piped up. “You know that bartender’s been eyeing you all night…”
“Shut up. He has not.” You argued, giving her a light shove.
That wasn’t enough to stop her though. “I bet he’d lower our bill if you went up and talked to him.”
You raised your eyebrow at her. “Really? I highly doubt it.” It was your turn to be shoved.
“Yes, really. Just go up there and see what happens! What do you have to lose?” You thought about it for a moment. She wasn’t wrong. Sonny wasn’t here, and you did love a good challenge. Fuck it. What’s the harm?
“Fine! I’ll go, but I’m telling you it won’t work.” After making sure you looked okay—and unbuttoning a button on your top—you went up to the bar and flagged down the bartender. He flashed you a grin and headed your way. Alright. You can do this.
“Hi there, was there anything else I could get you ladies?” You finally believed your friends since the man in front of you was eyeing your chest. You thought they just may have a point. You decided to give it your best shot, so you straightened up your back and batted your eyes at the waiter, whom you had learned was named ‘Jake,’ but maybe if you were paying attention, you would have noticed the pair of ice blue eyes belonging to your boyfriend staring at you from the doorway. You would have noticed how he watched you lightly graze Jake’s arm and bite your lip as you asked for the bill and laughed at one of his stupid jokes. How his blood was boiling as he watched Jake stare unabashedly at your chest, and how you gave him a flirty smile when you noticed. Jake was printing up the bill, and had you looked just a little to your right, you would have seen those blue eyes storm out of the bar, hands balled into fists as he headed home. Jake slid the bill across the counter to you. You picked it up without looking at it.
“Thanks so much!” You smiled and tried to walk back to the table as fast as you could without sprinting. You turned the bill over and saw that a round of drinks was knocked off…and that Jake had left you his number.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you returned to your friends. “You were right, it worked. Look!” They looked at the bill and laughed.
“Told you! Here, we got your drinks.”
You shook your head. “Nah, you don’t need to do that!”
“Yeah we do, for putting you through that!” She pointed towards the bar. “Now go home to Sonny!” You grinned. “Thanks guys, you’re the best.” Gathering your things, you made your goodbyes—remembering to re-button your top—and left the bar.
Whatever buzz you may have had disappeared on your way home. You spent the ride to your apartment hoping Sonny would be home from work; after the night you had, you wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him in bed and watch Netflix.
When you got home you were glad to find Sonny sitting at the dining table, still in his work clothes, but he had a scowl on his face. Why hadn’t he changed? And why did he look so pissed off?
“Hey, baby, when’d you get off?” Sonny was silent as you kicked off your boots and walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of water. “Did you have a good day at work?”
“Yeah, work was okay.” Alright, so work wasn’t what was getting him down. Was he upset with you? You decided to push; wanting some kind of reaction out of him. “I don’t know why you’re being short with me. If anything I should be mad at you for leaving me alone tonight.”
“Well, you seemed to be doin’ just fine with that waiter.”
Shit. Surely Sonny couldn’t think you were really flirting with him? Part of you wanted to explain why you were being overly friendly in the bar, however, another part of you was angry at Sonny for not coming out with you when he got off. You weren’t going to give in easily.
“You were at the bar? It was pretty rude of you to not even say ‘hi’ to us.”
That made Sonny finally look up at you, a devilish smile adorning his face. He leaned back in his chair, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest; you knew what he was thinking, what was coming next.
“Really? I was bein’ rude, huh?” He pursed his lips together, seemingly contemplating your comment. He nodded your way, “Take off your clothes.”
You immediately fell into your submissive persona. With shaky hands you pushed your skirt over your hips, letting it fall to the floor, followed by your tights and underwear. Soon you were completely naked, a blush spreading across your face. You knew you shouldn’t enjoy this this much, being talked to in such a way, but you couldn’t help the growing wetness between your legs as his hungry eyes looked over your body.
Spreading his legs, he motioned for you to walk to him. He pointed to one of his knees and you laid across it, pointing your ass in the air as your hair fell around you. He rubbed your back, his voice now softer than before.
“Do you remember your word?”
“Yes.”
“And you remember my rule?”
You nodded, “I can’t come until you say I can.”
Just like that, the kindness in his voice vanished, replaced by mischief. He leaned back in his chair again, moving his hand to rub your ass. “Doll, you’ve been cruel tonight. Flirtin’ with that guy, thinkin’ I wasn’t gonna find out.” You stayed silent, not knowing if Sonny wanted a response or not.
“You’re lucky it’s the beginnin’ of the month. I think you deserve eleven spankin’s, hmm? For the eleventh day?” Not caring about your answer, he delivered the first smack to your ass, causing you to yelp in surprise. You raised your ass in the air, preparing for the next one, numbers two and three came in quick succession, each one harder than the last.
The force of his fourth slap made your eyes water. That didn’t stop Sonny as he administered numbers five, six, and seven. He seemed to have stopped, and for just a moment you thought he might take pity on you, but then came number eight; you were sure it would leave a mark on your skin. It was the hardest yet.
“Ugh!” you exclaimed involuntarily, raising your ass in the air again. Who was Sonny to turn down this opportunity? Nine and ten came after shortly, tears now falling from your eyes. You braced yourself for eleven, the wetness between your legs growing, meanwhile Sonny rubbed your ass leisurely. The anticipation was killing you. Sonny was taking his sweet time. The soreness was starting to ebb, he could feel you starting to relax—that’s when you got number eleven. Hard, swift, and exquisite. He started rubbing your ass again, the soreness setting in.
“You took that well, doll,” he was massaging you. “Now get on your knees.” You heard the sound of him unbuckling his pants.
You fell to the floor and got on your knees in front of him, looking up at his face expectantly. He leaned back in his chair again, springing his cock free from his pants before standing up from his seat, his crotch merely inches in front of your face. One of his hands found the back of your head as he guided your mouth to him. You swirled your tongue around his head, but he wanted more. Tangling his hands in your hair, he pushed into your mouth, the force of his thrusts bringing new tears to your eyes.
You made yourself look into his eyes; you knew he loved when you met his gaze while you went down on him, even though you were sure you looked like a wreck; a mix of tears and mascara streaming down your face. You didn’t care, though, Sonny was enjoying the scene. He pushed into your mouth one final time, hitting the back of your throat. Instead of moving, however, he stayed like that for a few moments, holding your head in its position. He swiftly pulled out when you began to gag, causing spittle to leak down your chin.
Sonny helped you stand, wiping the tears from your face with him thumb. “You’re such a good little slut, aren’t you? Suckin’ my cock so well? Mmm, yeah, you are. Go get on the bed.”
Your legs felt like lead on the short walk to your bedroom; you could feel his eyes on your back the entire way.
You crawled into you and Sonny’s bed and laid in the middle, awaiting his next instruction. Sonny began untying his tie; he had a completely bored look on his face; like he couldn’t care less what he was doing to you. Once his tie was off, Sonny grabbed both of your wrists and tied them to your bed frame, leaving barely an inch for you to move your arms. His hands started to slowly trek down your body, stroking your cheek, pinching your nipple, before finally reaching where you wanted him most, plunging a single finger into your wetness.
“Mmm, already so wet. Is that for me? Or for someone else?”
“You! I promise it’s always for you!” Your statement ended with a whimper as he added another finger. Sonny wasted no time with you, slowly rubbing your clit with his thumb as he twisted and curled his fingers inside of you. You were already so close to the edge; it only took a few rubs of him thumb before your hips bucked against his hand. Sonny knew your body well, and he immediately withdrew his fingers, making you whine with need.
“I don’t think so, doll.” With that he wiped his fingers on your stomach and turned his back to you, continuing to undress himself. You desperately wanted to rub your thighs together, do anything to bring yourself some relief, but you knew that wasn’t allowed. You watched him as he took off his vest, then his button-down. He was moving painfully slowly; spending longer on each button than necessary. Once he was completely undressed he returned to bed, feeling your wetness once again, and just as quickly removed his fingers and crawled up your body. He entered you fully with one smooth motion, his head tipping back as he felt you for the first time all night. Any inclination of the angry, dominant Sonny was long gone as he began rocking his hips into yours, soft grunts escaping his mouth as he placed open-mouth kisses on your neck and collarbone. His pace was hasty, needy after holding off for so long.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Sonny, I want you, only you.”  You ached to touch him; to feel his skin against yours, to show him how much you wanted him. You strained against the tie holding your arms in place, whispering to Sonny that you loved him, that you knew you’d never find someone better or someone who could make you feel as good as he was in that moment. He quickened his pace now and reached to untie your hands, spurred on by your words and kissed you for the first time that night; teeth clacking together, full of tongue and desire. Your hands, numb and tingling from being restrained, found Sonny’s damp hair and tugged, trying to suppress your impending orgasm. You broke the kiss to beg him to let you come; begged for him to push you over the edge you had been on for so long.
Sonny nodded against you, “Come. Fuckin’ come for me.” It was barely a mumble but it pushed you over with a scream that you were sure the neighbors heard. Sonny’s thrusts grew erratic and soon after he followed, growling into your neck as he emptied himself into you. When he was thoroughly spent, Sonny got up to grab a towel from the bathroom, helping you wipe off. He crawled back into bed and pulled you into him, both of you laying on your sides as you caught your breath.
You curled yourself into him, wanting to be as close to him as possible. The both of you stayed like that, silent, you pressed up against him, him tracing patterns over your back. After a few minutes, Sonny got up and lifted you into his arms.
“C’mon doll, let me run you a bath.” You nodded, still wiped. You were sore all over and you knew this was exactly what you needed; your Sonny to take care of you. He set you down on the counter as he drew you a bath.
He got in first, holding his hand out for you as you stepped into the hot water, and helped the two of you get situated. You leaned back against Sonny, finding the comfort you needed in his arms as he kissed the top of your head. You buried your head in the crook of his neck.
“Sonny,” you started, “Were you really that upset?”
He sighed, “Yeah…I know I overreacted, but it drove me crazy, you bein’ all flirty with that guy. Especially after…” He stopped himself.
You shifted a little in the water so you could look up at him. “After what, babe?“
“You know, after what you said. About findin’ someone who doesn’t cancel all the time.”
“Babe that was a joke! I didn’t mean anything by it…”
“Yeah, I know…it still just stung.“ His voice thick with that Staten Island accent you loved.
“Don’t you know how happy you make me?”
“You make me so happy, too! So happy!” He held you tighter. “I’m constantly wonderin’ why you’re with me.”
You felt like you may cry, “Sonny—“
“No doll, let me say this.” He was looking into your eyes this time. “When you said what you said…I know I have to cancel dates a lot, and I work weird hours, and I bring my work home sometimes, and then I was goin’ to night classes for a while, I don’t know, it stuck with me. I got Amanda to cover for me, so I went to the bar but then, I saw you talkin’ with him, usin’ all your moves. It sucked.”
You laid a hand on his chest and kissed him, slowly and sweetly, hoping you could tell him everything he needed to know through the kiss. He tightened his arm around you, but you could feel his body relax against yours as he breathed into you.
“I promise to only use my moves on you, from now on.” You said, smirking up at him. That did it, he flashed you that grin you loved so much.
And you couldn’t help but think to yourself, even though he canceled dates, worked the craziest hours, and was unpredictable, impulsive; he was your Sonny, and you wouldn’t have him any other way.
Tagging: @do-me-carisi, @ventixx
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kyetalksshit · 7 years
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Maybe I’m suddenly blogging too much, I don’t know, but here, have another post. 
Today was... interesting. I mean good, relatively, but just interesting. 
I started the day with a tight and sore neck, and a stuffy nose. (I mean like more than usual. It’s been bad out here in Cali. Frustrating honestly.) I didn’t want to see the woman we live with (and her two kids) because rent was due yesterday and we weren’t able to pay all of it yet, but after I was supposed to get another $40 that night, we would have only been about $80 short, so I didn’t feel so bad. As soon as Starbucks finishes my transfer, I’ll make that no problem. (And Connor has got to get a job at some point too. So it’s not just on me.) 
However, last night as I was getting ready to go clean the school and make money, my boss texted me and said that we were let go suddenly because the school wanted to hire a big company to clean ALL of the schools in the entire inland empire area. (Apparently it’s a chain? I don’t know.) She was under the impression it was effective immediately. I’m of course freaking out because I feel a lot worse being $120 short than $80 short, especially since the woman we’re living with is also struggling for money. A few hours later my boss said we’d do some cold calls in the next few days and she’d try to get me that $40 at least. We just didn’t know exactly when. Now, I didn’t want to go out and tell the woman I live with because that’s sucky and not really a plan. I decided to tell her today instead of last night when I found out, because I hate confrontation of any sort to the point that I will literally hide out for as long as I can, but I’m always the one who gets stuck with it. I’m not sure why, it’s not like I’m good at it. But I digress. 
So this morning, we got up and set up and played d&d. It was honestly the best game I think we’ve had in awhile, partly because last week our characters had some emotional conversations (by which I mostly mean Ari, my character, had a talk with V about her current state of emotional breakdown, and V gave her very good advice). Anyway, this game was all about strategy and stuff and Ari was doing SO well instead of blurting something out she shouldn’t have said, and I was very proud of her because CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AHHHH. The four hours FLEW by and when everyone was ready to get off I was confused, I literally thought it had been two hours. I did not want to stop playing. Don’t get me wrong, this is by far the best game I’ve ever been a part of, but it’s also the only (decent) game I’ve been in from the beginning, when everyone else is learning their characters as much as you’re learning yours, so it can be hard at first. Also, Ari is exhausting to play. As much as I love her, I can’t keep it up for super long. But she was WAY more chill and just got shit done. Anyway, the point is, it’s the first time we’ve ended and I highkey wanted to just keep going, and hadn’t been thinking about dinner for hours already. 
After the game, though, I got a message from my boss saying that apparently the school still wants us until the 16th. So??? Great news!!! But also she wouldn’t give me the time we were going to go in, because she hadn’t decided yet, and I knew I needed dinner. So we had to go cook RIGHT THEN and I couldn’t hide out anymore. But we’d discussed that I’d get the $40 tonight. 
Of course it wound up totally fine once I was out there. She walked in the kitchen when we did, and asked me about the money. I told her and it was all good. As usual, my anxiety was for nothing. Anyway, dinner was semi healthy and delicious, and I was in a relatively good mood. After, I sat around until, close to 7, I had to go to the school to clean. We did a quick job tonight, more in depth tomorrow since it’ll be earlier in the day. 
When I was driving in, I discovered that the moon was full, which I didn’t know. I caught it right as it was going up into the sky, so it was at its biggest, probably a full inch or so in diameter from my view. It was beautiful. And I can’t help but think it’s part of why I had such a good day. I mean Dany was extra affectionate today, and seriously, it was a bit of a roller coaster (ish? More back and forth than up and down, but), but luck was definitely on my side today. 
And there was a moment on the way home where I looked up at the moon through the leaves of a palm tree and just couldn’t help but smile as I thought to myself “this is it. I live in California. I am struggling but I am making ends meet and setting myself up for a great future. This is what it means to make it work. And I am so happy.” 
I’d love to end this blog on that last paragraph, beautiful as it is, but when I got home, more good things happened. I didn’t want to sit around watch SOMETHING ELSE, I’m so tired of just WATCHING shit, you know? So I got a little snack (by which I mean a block of cheese and a knife lol), and spread out all my d&d stuff again. I FINALLY finally F I N A L L Y (seriously it’s been a mess since we started and really it’s something I’ve needed to do for, including my other character, like 2 ish years now) finished typing up and organizing all of Ari’s spells, feats, inventory, special abilities, languages. Hell, I even set up a wish list that I hope to start using. I decided to switch a few spells, I just haven’t picked the new ones yet, and I discovered I have an extra spell to choose! 
I was looking through my small journal where I take notes for EVERYTHING IN THE WORLD to see if I ever chose that spell and wrote it somewhere else (I didn’t), and I found some old semi poetry I’d written. So I put those in word documents and tweaked them a little, then felt like editing some of my other poems. They have gotten so much better already. I think I’m going to post a screenshot, maybe multiple, of the specific ones I was working on tonight. Not all of them, of course, just the ones that are the furthest from being done but still have come such a long way. 
Anyway. Happy full moon, loves. Happy writing, and happy life. (Um, knock on wood?) 
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