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notchesandbullets · 3 years ago

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Life After Luck (Black Panther!Shinsou x Reader)

Art credit: Pixiv ID 123370838

Warnings: harassment, descriptions of injuries and blood, mention of a past character death (minor) and violence, angst, fluff, protective Shinsou and endearing dad!Shinsou.

A/N: second work for @ultimate-astridwriting hybrid collab!!

Words: 9.4k

You and Shinsou had been seeing each other secretly for years. And in the famed city of Musutafu where the existence of hybrids were extremely rare, that wasn’t exactly an easy feat.

The statistics varied around the globe but the general trend ended up to be less than 5% of the world’s population being born with some kind of animal trait.

Because they were so rare, most humans lived out their whole lives without encountering a hybrid in person once, but for the odd individual, sometimes they would catch a glimpse.

Ever since he was young, Shinsou had to fight every step of the way to get what he wanted. He had to work harder than most just for the mere scraps of attention from scouts that came to search for those with talent to become future heroes, but he never once complained. Until a fight broke out at school, the jocks beating him up in the cafeteria, calling his aspiration to be a hero stupid while everyone else just sat there and watched.

They called him all sorts of horrible names that made his skin crawl and at the end of it all, they didn’t even get punished for starting the fight. He did.

After that, he stomped away from the school grounds and never looked back.

Overcoming life’s great trials, he made a name for himself in his own community in Japan with the help of his mentor, Aizawa.

The scruffy man demanded that he at least get the bare minimum of an education with him if he really refused to go back to his original school, and that’s how the odd pair that resembled father and son more than anyone else ended up getting homeschooled by the veteran underground pro.

Eventually, the once scrawny black panther without a quirk transformed into a seasoned pro that Japan’s law enforcement called on whenever a case called for his skills.

Shinsou’s hybrid traits made it easy for him to sneak around despite his size, making him one of the idealistic hires when police needed someone for undercover work. Coupled with the prowess of his build body, he was more than capable to takedown whatever targets were given to him.

Once he reached adulthood, he left the police reserves and went out on his own, seeking a life that lacked the emergency sirens and ways of deceit that it had been filled with previously.

He bounced around from job to job, starting from the bottom up. He washed dishes in a kitchen for a restaurant then went on to be a cashier and then finally worked on the side of the road, cleaning up litter left behind by inconsiderate people.

Shinsou found that over time, he appreciated doing those jobs more and got fulfillment out of it that he didn’t find before.

Little things that happened daily put an extra spring in his step, like strolling down the street and seeing an elder needing help to get across. The simple actions of holding open the door or complimenting someone in hopes of making their day, it was so much clearer than it had been before.

That wasn’t to say that life was a walk in the park for the estranged panther. He still got comments about his appearance when his hood slipped off or from people who looked closely enough spotted his tail, but he no longer cared. His self-worth didn’t rely on pleasing them.

He was done with trying to blend in with the humans. He was different and he was proud of it.

Shinsou’s jaw clenched and his eyes hardened every time someone muttered something not-so-kind under their breath but he pushed on out of sheer determination, shoving it down until he could process it and release the feelings that came with it. He didn’t want to be the type of person who held a grudge.

Nothing good came out of that.

It was hard, but he had an example to set. He didn’t want his son to end up like the person he used to be.

A loner, an outcast, filled with so much anger aimed at the world that he lacked the ability to get along with anybody. And he didn’t want that for his son.

Naoki. His five-year-old kid with as much spunk as you had.

His wife of seven years.

Shinsou had met you on the eve of a grand ball being hosted in honor of Midoriya’s birthday, a party thrown for the Number One Hero by his large circle of friends. The black panther hybrid had been serving as protection for the night to Kaminari, an old human friend of his from high school who had hooked him up with a steady job within his own company.

Private security.

Since his panther genes gave him a much more built physique, Shinsou didn’t have any troubles convincing the big boss that he was the right fit for being a bodyguard. Coupled with his impressive background, that sealed the deal in one go.

Shinsou had been over at the bar getting a drink for the hyperactive blond conversing with his other guard, Jirou, when it happened.

The grand doors to the Victorian ballroom opened and in you entered, causing everyone’s jaws to drop to the floor.

Your floor-length gown was breathtaking. Diamonds glittered on soft skin from where the expensive necklace sat just above your collarbone. Ruby heels peeked out from under your dress as you floated through the entryway, coming to a stop at the balcony high above all the guests’ heads.

White chiffon skirts sweeping the marble tile, your satin heels clicked against the floor as you strode in, your chin turned delicately at the audible gasp that left the doorman.

An easy smile popped up on your features as he hastily apologized for staring and you brushed it off with an airy wave of your hand.

Shinsou didn’t even know if you were aware of all the eyes on you as you glided down the steps and warmly greeted Todoroki, the one who actually reserved the ballroom for the night, and Bakugou, one of your oldest friends.

Thank Eraserhead for his enhanced hearing.

However, Shinsou practically fainted when you walked over to him, commenting that he looked nice right before introducing yourself. The dress code that he had previously complained about to Kaminari earlier went out the window as soon as his eyes settled on you, drinking in your figure.

You were the embodiment of a goddess.

At that point, he wasn’t sure if he died and went to heaven or what, but he knew one thing. You were absolutely breathtaking.

Your elegance, your ease and instant kindness whenever you interacted with someone had him weak in the knees.

You were a vision.

Radiating pure light and beauty.

Sliding over to him, Kaminari had flashed him a cocky grin and reassured him that Jirou could handle his responsibilities if he, oh, wanted to pay a visit to a particularly stunning girl.

Jirou, his right-hand woman, swatted the electric blond’s shoulder as he doubled over with laughter but calmly told Shinsou that if he wanted to stroll around for a little while before coming back, then well, there certainly was nothing wrong with having a little bit of fun.

Blushing, he refused, claiming he couldn’t possibly leave Kaminari alone that long. He would find a way to set something on fire somehow.

The man had a weird affinity with fire.

Shinsou busied himself with the glasses, pouring the drinks that he had originally came over to get and he was about to get back to Jirou and Kaminari, both who suspiciously disappeared from sight, when he glanced up and saw you in all your splendor.

Right in front of him.

The crystal flutes he had been holding smashed onto the floor, clear shards flying everywhere. All heads turned to him but this time, the attention was unwanted.

Shinsou was frantic, trying to amend his mistake before you saw, even though that was literally impossible at this point, and Kaminari popped up out of nowhere, intervening before the enraged caterer could say some not-so-kind words to him.

That was fortunate for him.

What wasn’t as fortunate was you crouching down the second you heard the crash, disregarding everyone else’s shouts for you to be careful as you raced to his side, bending down to help.

“Are you alright?!” You asked, eyes wide with panic when your gaze landed on his palms and you froze. “Oh no, you’re bleeding!!”

The next ten minutes consisted of him adamantly refusing to let you help him clean up the shattered crystal and you arguing against him. Shinsou was forced to cave into you as you insisted on helping, threatening to haul him into your car to take him to the hospital yourself if he didn’t at least let you look at it, so he wasn’t left with much of a choice.

It wasn’t long before all the dangerous fragments were swept up and once the situation was handled, you led him out of the way to tend to his injuries.

Shinsou was quiet the entire way out, only protesting when you finally reached your destination of the nearest single stall bathroom. Here, at least it was quieter than the party that had resumed out there. Definitely wasn’t his crowd, but he wasn’t about to stomp all over the opportunity that Kaminari gave him just because he was a bit uncomfortable.

He could handle it. He was a panther, for crying out loud.

His frame was broad, his sharp indigo eyes terrifying and he was tougher than anyone else out there.

And yet, you didn’t flinch away from his wary gaze, going so far as to tend to the cuts and scraps on his bare hands, disinfecting them gently before bandaging them up in soft gauze you found in the cabinet.

It wasn’t odd to have amenities at an event like this where some kind of physical discourse was bound to happen. You knew it well.

Shinsou eyed you while you worked. “... I didn’t catch your name.”

If you were put off by the low drawl edged with a slight growl clearly meant to intimidate you, you didn’t show it at all.

Shrugging nonchalantly, you ducked your head somewhat shyly as you tied off the cotton. “L/N. L/N, Y/N.”

Shinsou smirked. “Nice to meet you.”

You flashed him a grin. “Likewise.”

This time, he was the one to look down shyly as his heart skipped a beat, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his newly banadaged palm as you wrapped the other one. “... Thanks for doing that.”

The snort that left you had him doing a double take.

“Thanks for letting me.” You retorted, tugging a bit harder on the end of the gauze to emphasize your exasperation with his earlier stubbornness and Shinsou winced, already regretting it.

“Sorry about that.” He murmured. He didn’t want to be on your bad side already. He had just met you.

Your gaze softened a tad as you picked up on the genuine strain in his voice. “It’s okay.”

After you finished tending to his injury, giving him a lame excuse why you knew first-aid so well, the two of you returned to the ball.

He let it go. For some reason, he had a feeling he shouldn’t pry.

Shinsou readjusted his tie, knowing that if he didn’t, Kaminari would do it for him. That’s just the type of person the electric blond was. It was hella annoying.

But his indigo gaze kept on you the entire time as your skirts swept across the floor, capturing all the attention of the guests once again.

Shinsou tapped the rim of the champagne glass to his lips contemplatively, mulling something over in his mind.

He saw through your weak excuse that you just knew how to do first-aid. He spotted the way your hands shook when you saw the blood, no matter how shallow the laceration was, and he couldn’t help but do a little bit of digging.

Jirou helped him find out that you weren’t a doctor or a nurse. In fact, you weren’t in any kind of profession in the medical field.

While Shinsou was slightly glad you weren’t so that he wouldn’t run into you when missions went sideways, he was more disappointed than anything else.

What if he never saw you again after tonight?

The thought of today being the last time he laid eyes on you was too much for him to bear and even though he tried to keep his distance, tried to stomp out the blossoming warmth in his chest for you when you giggled and threw him a smile through the crowd with logic, nothing worked.

Shinsou gathered his courage and with a push from Kaminari, literally, he had a date with the bashful bartender by the end of the night.

Waving goodbye to you after he walked you to his car, his arm dropped back down to his side as you drove off into the night. This is going to be fun...

Two weeks passed by and he still had yet to see you.

At first, he was the one to get called away. Kaminari needed him for a gig while he closed a deal on the nightclub that he owned that he was looking to expand. Apparently, Jirou and Sero were unavailable. He apologized profusely, promising to make it up to you, but you didn’t even mind.

You understood that sometimes life just happened and things got in the way. He had nothing to be sorry for. You rescheduled for the following week.

That was when you got called away. Family emergency.

Shinsou spent twenty minutes on the phone with you, promising that he wasn’t holding it against you for needing to push back the date again. His eyes softened when he clearly heard how distressed you were through his cell and he sighed, murmuring into the receiver that it didn’t matter how long it took or how many obstacles the two of you would have to get through.

His heart still longed for you just as strongly as the first day he saw you.

With his quiet yet passionate reassurance, you were able to attend to all that you needed to, keeping in contact with him throughout the week. You were ashamed to admit it, but with how easy he was to talk to, you found yourself falling hard.

Then, the day finally came where life allowed you this one happiness.

According to you, the first date went well. Sure, Shinsou was a bit shy and awkward, fumbling over his words but you found it extremely cute.

He wasn’t nearly as intimidating as his figure portrayed. Underneath all that brawn, the black panther was sweet and he was kind.

It took some time for him to actually warm up to you, but you were there waiting for him patiently. You never pushed him, never asked him to reveal secrets he didn’t want to talk about or divulge information about his personal life unless he himself wished to talk about it.

But when he finally did open up, close to a year later after that initial meeting at Midoriya’s birthday party, he found that he couldn’t stop running his mouth when you trained your keen gaze on him so intently, hanging onto his every word.

Shinsou told you everything.

He told you about his lonely past, about the man called Eraserhead but how he knew him as Aizawa, how he preferred coffee over tea because while neither of them actually had any taste, one of them did a much better job of keeping him awake at night when he had to work.

You giggled and told him you took note of that, leaning forward to plop your chin in the palm of your hand as you regarded him mischievously.

“Does that mean the great and famous Toshi doesn’t like water?” You teased lightly, stirring your hot chocolate while the snowflakes fell outside, melting the instant they hit the window.

The pillowy softness looked deceptively soft and cozy but you knew after many experiences of jumping into piles of snow that that was definitely not the case.

Shinsou scowled at the lilt in your voice but the edges of his mouth twitched, desperately trying to hold back a fond smile at the sound of your nickname for him.

You gave him that nickname after you learned his given name. He had shared it with you months after you two started dating regularly. You had pestered him for it for a while after the first coffee date but after he asked you to stop, that he would tell you when he was ready, you stopped immediately.

Boundaries had to be respected.

One of your old girlfriends made fun of you for it, claiming that it didn’t make sense so you shouldn’t feel the need to respect it.

You dropped her right after.

Understanding didn’t matter. If it was close to him, then it mattered to you. And that went for everyone.

Shinsou tucked his hands into the pockets of his pants and leaned back in the booth, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. The only other person he let call him Toshi was Aizawa and that was on the rare occasion that his mentor praised him for a job well done.

“You have some nerve, doll.” Shinsou teased right back, the barest amount of amusement twinkling in his eyes and he cleared his throat. “But no, I actually do like water.”

In spite of the common misconception that all cats hated water, he got that a lot once people saw his ears and tail, fangs poking out between his lips. But if anything, he had no issues with it. Let them say and think whatever they wanted, it didn’t matter to him.

You however… he couldn’t have you thinking things that weren’t true.

Shinsou made a face. “I just am not fond of baths.”

You slapped your knee and cackled at that, laughing so loud that you drew the attention of some of the other patrons in the vicinity but you couldn’t even catch your breath long enough to apologize for ruining their calm coffee cafe experience.

The two of you dated for quite a long time before Shinsou popped the question.

For you, it had taken you by a complete and utter surprise. You had expected him to ask you to move in with him first or something since his place was big enough, not this. No one had ever committed to a relationship with you long enough and serious enough to make you think that marriage was part of the equation.

But while you were startled, you still agreed, tears caught in your lashes. You may have been shocked but you were so elated.

Shinsou, keen as ever, wiped away your tears and coaxed your face up, finger hooked underneath your chin as he examined you closely.

Indigo hues softened in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” You reassured him with a sniffle and bright smile. “I just— Sometimes I forget how good of a person you really are, Toshi.”

He was taken aback at that. His whole life he had been told the opposite. And yet here he was, with the love of his life telling him otherwise.

His heart was going to explode.

It hadn’t been the first time you said it but he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.

And when the news that you two were now engaged finally hit you, you took some time to soak in the scenery.

The place he picked was absolutely perfect.

An alcove secluded and filled with fragrant flowers, vines trailing up the expanse of the old stone ruins. Soothing streams cut paths through the quiet garden, a serene and tranquil place hidden amongst the bustling town of Musutafu. There was no one else around. Just you two.

It was perfect. It was perfectly Toshi.

“Thank you.” You whispered, leaning your head and resting it on his shoulder.

He booped your nose softly, smiling slightly when you scrunched it up cutely and his tail curled around your waist protectively, holding you close.

“I love you.” Shinsou murmured, closing his eyes as he breathed you in.

There was no hesitation in your soft reply. “I love you too.”

But your relationship with Shinsou wasn’t all sunshine and roses. There was a time where you thought you might lose him.

That he might die.

It was bad. Kaminari had called you right after it happened but because you had been working at the time and your dick of a boss didn’t let you have your phone, you didn’t see any of those messages until after you got off your shift.

But when you finally did look at it, your heart stopped.

What happened next was a blur. Your phone slipped through your fingers, uncaring how the screen cracked and went black the instant it hit the pavement and you tore off in the address now ingrained in your memory despite only looking at it once.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay, You chanted in your head, tears streaming down your face and the city lights faded into the background as you zipped down the familiar path to the hospital you swore you would never step foot in again. Toshi, I can’t lose you too.

The front desk receptionist didn’t even stop you as you barreled through the front doors with panicked eyes, chest heaving. She simply waved you on. You knew where to go.

When you finally got to his room, your heart stopped.

Kaminari wasn’t kidding. It was bad.

No one else was in the white room with white walls that contained your beloved lying deathly still on the single cot in the center of the room.

The hospital room was vacant. Empty. No color.

You hated it.

But you suppressed those feelings of unease that made you sick to your stomach and stepped a foot inside, racing to Shinsou before you could talk yourself out of it.

“I’m here.” You cried out, reaching for his hand. A choked sob left you when his fingers weakly curled around yours. “I’m here, Hitoshi.”

The doctors came and went but you stayed by his side, not even batting an eye when Kaminari, Jirou and Sero came to visit.

There were heavy bags under your eyes from lack of sleep due to the past few days. “When will he wake up?”

Kaminari hesitated, glancing at Jirou, hoping to find her usual reassurance but a foreign worry wrought her features.

“I… don’t know.” He said finally, placing a hand on your shoulder, sighing when you didn’t even look up at him and smiled like you normally did. “He’s under a pretty heavy anesthesia—”

“He’s going to wake up.” You stated firmly, brow kitting stubbornly and you squeezed his hand tighter.

But when it was clear he wasn’t going to squeeze back, your grip loosened and your hands fell back in your lap.

“He’s going to wake up.” You repeated, voice shaking this time around with insecurity as you faced the possible reality that he might not.

That you had just grown close to someone else who was going to leave you.

According to the report that Jirou had tried to tell you about, Shinsou had gotten attacked by someone he had helped the police put away a long time ago.

A retaliation hit.

Stabbed in the shoulder with a gunshot wound through his femoral artery, there wasn’t a lot of hope for him. He lost a lot of blood.

But you were certain he would fight. He could make it through this. He promised you that he would never leave you.

Resolve strengthening, you wiped away your tears harshly with the back of your hand before covering his motionless hand with yours once more. As long as you were here, you would provide him all the support he needed to get through this.

“Toshi…” You sobbed as the other three took their leave after failing to convince you to go home and get some rest. They would get some food and bring it up to you, sure you hadn’t eaten in days. You didn’t want to be the one to tell them that they were right.

Shinsou never liked it when you skipped meals. What would he say if he saw you now?

You pressed a wet kiss to the back of his hand, tears blurring your vision.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up.” You promised, eyelashes fluttering close as you failed against the anguish.

“Please, don’t leave me alone.”

Days turned into weeks and your hope was dwindling with each passing hour.

You had lost your job at the diner that you worked at because you refused to leave his side. You were lucky to have Kaminari reassure you that money wouldn’t be a problem and you were eternally grateful that he knew just how important it was that you didn’t leave Shinsou’s bedside.

Jirou and Sero rotated shifts to keep watch over their friend, coordinating with Tsukauchi, All Might and Eraserhead to provide top security but you couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to their activities.

All you did, from sunrise to midnight was stare at Shinsou’s peacefully sleeping face in hopes that he would blink open those tired eyes and gaze at you once more.

Please, You begged for what seemed like the millionth time to someone, anyone who was listening. Please help him.

Let him be okay.

When a month and a half had passed, you were at your wit’s end. There had been no change since day one. The doctors said that all his injuries had healed, thanks to Recovery Girl, but that it was likely he would never come out of the coma.

You had no more tears to cry. Your figure was gaunt, facial features sunken in like you had seen a ghost and lost your mind. No one could convince you to eat or sleep.

If Shinsou died, there was a good chance you would too.

Life was empty without him in it.

You couldn’t take this anymore. The waiting, the not knowing. You hated it.

You begged him even though you knew he couldn’t hear you, angry at him, angry at the guy who put him here, angry at the world for being so unfair that you lost it. Yelling at him, you fought back frustrated tears as you poured your heart out to him.

But then you stopped. He didn’t know.

Sinking back into the uncomfortable plastic chair that your body had molded to, you closed your eyes in defeat.

That’s right. You never told him.

Eyes growing sad and regretful, you debated for a second before you decided that if you were feeling this way, you might as well tell him why.

Holding his hand that teetered on the edge of chilly due to the slowed down circulation, you took a deep breath.

“You always wanted to know, ever since we first met.” You started softly, playing idly with his fingers to distract yourself from the horror of this story. “I knew you saw right through me then, should’ve taken the warning and run.”

You smiled faintly. He never would’ve let you.

“I…” You trailed off, losing your courage. Breathing shakily, you tried to gather yourself. You knew this wasn’t going to be an easy feat but somehow, this was the hardest part of it all.

Where you had to admit what you felt with no hidden truths.

Clearing your throat, you started over.

“I never told you about Ryuu.” You confessed, blinking up at the stained tiles of the ceiling in an attempt to hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes. “He was my little brother, passed away when I was 15.”

You exhaled shakily. “He was only six.”

Your dad had gotten mugged and was beaten to death on the outskirts of the city before you were born. Your mom raised you as best as a single mother her age could but it was hard.

She had no job, no family, no one to help her. Your childhood consisted of you bouncing around the streets to make a penny, then crashing in whatever crumbling, rundown building you could find for the night.

Any run-ins with the law weren’t good.

You knew that they would take you away from your mom if they knew, put you in the foster care system. You couldn’t let them do that, who would take care of her?

She didn’t tell you that she was pregnant. You found out when she started showing.

You didn’t say anything about it for the nine months she carried that baby, supporting her with all you could. Life was okay. You got a job running errands for the kind man who owned a grocery store at the corner of the street.

You had enough money to put some food on the table.

When she birthed the baby, you were there the entire time. You were there when he had his first cry, when the nurse cut the umbilical cord, and when your mother passed away on the hospital bed, too weak from labor to carry on.

You didn’t mourn. No matter how hard you tried or how much you wanted to, no tears came out.

Instead, you held Ryuu in your arms, kissing him on his little forehead as you vowed to protect him.

He was life. He was precious.

But you couldn’t protect him from himself.

Ryuu was born with a flawed heart. The doctors predicted that he wouldn’t live more than a year.

But your little brother pushed through. By the time he turned four, he was already showing signs of great progress and healing. You were hopeful that he could grow up like a normal kid and experience life to the fullest.

You hoped for too much.

Visits to the hospital became more frequent when he started coughing up blood. Violent seizures overtook him and one day, it claimed his life.

And you didn’t cry.

Onlookers speculated that you had no heart if you couldn’t even grieve for this poor boy, but no, that wasn’t it. That wasn’t it at all.

You thought you were over this already, that you had gotten over your fear of hospitals and all the despair that came with it, but no.

Seeing Shinsou laying there, deathly pale, had your heart beating right out of your chest, and not in a good way.

“When you wake up, I’m going to kill you.” You swore through the hot tears stinging your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.

Slouching heavily back down in that same uncomfortable plastic chair that dug into your back and made your butt incredibly sore, you clasped Shinsou’s hand tightly.

“You’re such an idiot.” You sobbed, fingers shaking as you let up the pressure, grazing over the back of his hand as though you were afraid he might disappear on you if you pressed too hard.

Vision blurry, a sob welled up in your chest and your body trembled uncontrollably as you let it all out. The build up of all the emotions you had been suppressing since you were younger released onto him and you cried and cried until you couldn’t anymore.

But your eyes flew open as something soft and fuzzy ruffled your hair.

Shooting upright, fresh tears gathered at the corners of your eyes and your hands clapped over your mouth in shock.

A broken cry escaped you. “Toshi…”

Shinsou’s indigo eyes opened just a crack but they were trained on you and the faintest of smiles graced his lips.

“Hey, doll.” He breathed tiredly.

His mouth barely moved but you heard him.

With an astonished and disbelieving cry of relief, you flung your arms around his neck.

Despite his body just waking up and getting accustomed to its surroundings, he didn’t hesitate to catch you, tucking your head under his chin and he buried his nose into your hair and inhaled deeply. Damn, he missed you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Shinsou apologized, wincing a bit as he tried to prop himself up. You were quick to realize what he wanted and helped him, fluffing the pillows behind him as best as you could even though it was hard to reach around his much bigger frame. “How long—”

“Too long.”

Shinsou’s eyes softened and he gently brushed away the teardrops escaping with the pad of his thumb as he cupped your face tenderly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, eyes closing briefly as he rested his forehead against yours.

You glowered at him even though your heart was already surging towards him with open arms. “You better be.”

The sound of his throaty chuckle was a welcome one and you melted into his embrace, sighing at the deep purr that rumbled from his chest.

“Princess…” Shinsou murmured, Kaminari’s outburst and Jirou’s relieved expression as they burst into the room going unnoticed as he focused only on you. “Forgive me?”

Vaguely, you registered Sero bolting out the door to fetch the doctor but you blinked up at him and pouted, playing with the collar of his hospital robe.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You mumbled under your breath.

Shinsou’s eyebrows drew together. “I heard about your brother, I think. I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“You don’t need to ask for forgiveness.” You whispered, grip tightening on him when the doctor entered the room and asked you to leave so he could examine him. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

Shinsou begged for just one more minute with you, one more minute to hold you in his arms but the doctor was insistent. Reluctantly, with great difficulty, he let you go, the man taking your place in a second.

You swallowed harshly as you stepped away from him, Jirou patting your shoulder comfortingly and you turned to her as Kaminari peppered the exhausted panther with endless questions.

“Toshi?”

Shinsou turned his head at your soft voice and motioned for you to complete your thought. He knew that look on your face.

You broke away from Jirou, leaving her with Sero as you approached him once more. Slowly, with intent, you strode towards him, watery eyes diminishing as your resolve strengthened.

Taking his hand in yours, something flashed through your eyes. “I’m gonna make them pay.”

In spite of his vision growing foggy as the anesthetic kicked in, a small smirk played upon the edge of his mouth and his gaze flickered over your shoulder to lock purposefully with Kaminari’s. A silent request to keep you safe while he was out.

Shinsou sighed, settling into the thin mattress as comfortably as he could when you pressed a loving kiss to his forehead.

He smiled, eyes fluttering shut as the last thing he heard was your hushed declaration of how much you loved him.

“Go get ‘em, doll.”

Seven quirk-cancelling handcuffs, demolished turkey stuffing and a plate of thrown pudding later, you left the individuals responsible for attacking your Toshi in the police’s capable hands.

It had taken you forever to heal from the trauma of that day that landed your life partner in the hospital in such a dangerous predicament, but taking one slow step at a time, you managed to get back up on your feet and move forward.

Now, years later, the shining daylight turned into the ambiance of night, and that was when the real party started.

Purple lowlights glowed softly in contrast against the glittery sparkles of the disco ball hanging above the dancefloor.

Jirou spun tunes at the DJ booth, Sero jamming with Kirishima unabashedly to the loud EDM in the crowd, Bakugou violently fighting against his best friend when Kirishima begged for him to come join.

You poured drinks from behind the counter with an impassive Todoroki, bopping to the music that pumped through the air and reverberated through your bones. Your coworker continued to serve customers, strolling out into the dining area as someone waved him over. Uraraka and Aoyama, you think.

Kaminari had given you a position at his nightclub, asking if you wanted to put your bartending skills to good use since his last guy quit once he got a better gig. You accepted immediately.

You bustled around the back of the counter of the bar, glass shelves stocked with liquor high behind you. Polishing glasses, you handled several things at once as customers put in orders and talked to you all at once.

Tonight was a celebration and a bunch of your friends were here.

Bakugou was now begrudgingly dancing with Kirishima on the dancefloor, the permanent scowl on his face growing once Todoroki leaned over and casually noted how much he resembled a put off skunk in that moment. Midoriya had to intervene and drag away a clueless Todoroki while Kirishima wrangled back a furious pomeranian.

Kaminari hung out with Yaoyorozu by Jirou, Shoji and Ojiro drifting over to them as soon as they stepped in through the front door.

Excitement thrummed through your veins at all the familiar faces. With all your friends in one place, you were eager to see the one person you had been looking forward to catching up with all week.

He should be getting off of work soon…

A ring from the doorbell as it opened caught your attention.

“I’ll be right with you!!” You called as the figure who had just shuffled through the door of the bar sat down at the counter.

“No worries.” The man responded smoothly despite his tired tone. “Take your time.”

At the sound of the familiar voice, you casted a glimpse at him, spotting ruffled purple hair and indigo hues brimming with love fixated on you.

He waved you off with a lazy grin and you fought back a smile as you continued to make the requested cocktail for the customer you were currently serving.

You had both agreed to not act with familiarity at your workplace but that didn’t stop you from putting an extra bounce in your step as you flitted around from behind the counter with grace and practiced ease to help ease Todoroki’s workload.

Shinsou’s gaze followed you as you swapped places with the dual-haired man.

He had just got off of patrol with his old mentor, Eraserhead. Kaminari had given him the day off and let him spend time with the scruffy man. And of course Aizawa wanted to spend it doing work.

Taking off his signature mask to let it hang around his neck, Shinsou set down his keys on the polished obsidian tabletop, tapping his fingers idly while he waited for you to come back, his eyes flickering to the employees’ door that led to the back.

But he had no complaints while waiting.

One of his favorite pastimes was watching you work. The grace while you floated around the crowd of people coupled with the delicate precision you used to handle each glass while you poured liquor in different combinations, he could watch you for hours on end and never be bored.

Wiping your hands on your white apron dirtied with stains from this shift, you dashed back behind the counter to send out a few plates full of food that a table had ordered.

Shinsou rested his chin in the palm of his hand nonchalantly, his tail swishing lazily from side to side as you took care of things seamlessly, picking up the influx of business that came with the busy hour.

He briefly wondered why there were only you and Todoroki waiting on tables, scowling slightly when he thought that you had to deal with waitressing on top of bartending but you didn’t seem to mind.

With an easy smile and light shining in your eyes, you dealt with all of it with grace.

“Hello!!”

Shinsou glanced up, one of his rare smiles threatening to break out across his face at the sight that greeted him. You were leaning over the counter towards him, spinning a pen between your fingers smoothly as you whipped out a notepad.

“What can I get for you?” You asked politely but the mischievous glint in your eye gave it away.

Shinsou had been so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear you come over. Easily enough, a smug smirk curved at the edge of his mouth and he recovered rather quickly as he chuckled.

“Just water is fine, thanks.” He said and you nodded, flashing him a quirky smile.

You got him his water within seconds and in the blink of an eye, you were back to serving others. Caught up in the craziness of the rush hour, you barely noticed a little someone toddling up to stand up behind you as the door burst open.

“Mama?”

The babysitter you hired for the night came rushing in behind him, hauling your son back frantically, wrought with worry from when he sped ahead of her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, L/N-san, I just—”

You held up a hand to stop her, calming her down. “It’s okay, Gen. Take a deep breath and tell me what’s wrong.”

In a single hurried breath, she relayed in a panicked manner that she had a family emergency to take care of. You reassured her that it was okay to go, ushering her out the door when she continued to spew out apologies for bailing like this.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened and you were quite sure it wouldn’t be the last. The girl was nice and she got along great with your son but her parents struggled with their health and usually one of them or both of them landed in the hospital every week.

The stress.

You shook your head. It was unfair to put such a young girl through something so strenuous but you didn’t have any say in it and you inserting yourself into their lives would be intrusive so you settled for supporting her whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Need a ride?” You asked, eyes sympathetic as you headed over to her, snatching your coat from the hook, already ready to help in any way that you could.

Gen waved her hands quickly, the smile that appeared gone as fast as it came. “That’s okay, but thank you, L/N-san!! Monoma is taking me to the hospital.”

Her knuckles turned white at how tightly she gripped the strap of her bag and your eyes softened understandingly as her boyfriend’s sports car pulled up just outside.

“Go on.” You urged softly. “And be careful.”

“I will.”

And with that, she turned around, leaving behind a fidgeting little boy tugging on the bottom of your apron.

“Mama? Where’s she going?” Naoki pouted, cheeks puffing out. “I thought we were gonna play…”

You hid a smile, reaching behind you to pat him on the head as you expertly handled a tray of empty beers and put the glasses in the sink. As Todoroki took over for you, you bent down to ruffle his hair.

“What is it, little one?” You questioned softly and somehow your son managed to hear you above the noise and clamor of the partying going on.

Normally, you would’ve done everything you could to keep him away from your workplace. Having your husband watch him in the back room was preferable until your shift was over. Naoki particularly enjoyed coloring.

The last babysitter you hired before Gen ended up being careless and lost track of him, letting the small boy wander out of the house. He found you at your workplace easily enough since it was a few blocks away but you were in hysterics when he trotted in through the door with his favorite Eraserhead plushie as one of your regulars held open the door for him.

Grandpa Shouta would never admit how much he loved the little guy but it didn’t matter. He and Hizashi constantly showered Naoki with gifts every weekend when they came over to take your family out on a shopping spree and obligatory trip to the cat café.

You didn’t have any relatives that lived close by or else you would’ve asked if they could babysit Naoki and Aizawa was out of the question since his job was just as dangerous and demanding as Shinsou’s.

Your workplace wasn’t exactly the traditional nightclub, it was actually a very sophisticated bar with tight security and respectful customers. Rarely you got anyone new but the steady stream of regulars was more than enough to keep the place up and running.

Nobody usually got violent when they had too much to drink but if they did, the bouncers Kendo and Tetsutetsu were both quick to throw them out of the establishment until they sobered up.

Naoki liked to cling to your legs when you were at home and since all your regulars knew of him from that little incident before, no one was surprised when the small boy tucked himself behind you shyly.

The disco music’s volume lowered a tad as Jirou realized that Naoki was with you, reducing it to a much more acceptable level for conversations to flow easier.

Shinsou sipped his water. Gen was in and out as quickly as she came, and there was no need for him to do anything when you took care of it so fast. Besides, his son hadn’t even noticed him yet.

Until now.

Beaming widely, Naoki faced his dad and hugged your leg.

Shinsou fought back a fond smile, waving at him discreetly to avoid catching the attention of the others. He rolled his eyes though when his silent and goofy conversation was interrupted by a Kaminari and Sero obnoxiously hooting from the side.

You remained oblivious, cleaning up a pile of dishes to clear your workspace as Todoroki disappeared into the kitchen where Sato and Tokoyami were continuing to crank out plates of food for the night.

Tugging on your apron, Naoki’s wide eyes met yours as you knelt down to his level. He pointed to someone sitting on the opposite side as his dad.

“Mama, that man looks mean…” He whispered fearfully, cowering behind your legs as you straightened up to your full height.

“Can I help you?” You asked with a pointed glance, tone hard as you addressed the one intimidating your son.

While any other person would’ve bristled at your icy tone, this burly man just snickered and leaned closer, making his intent clear.

Arching an eyebrow, you crossed your arms over your chest and pulled out your notepad. You hadn’t seen him around before, he must be a newcomer.

You sighed after a beat of him just ogling you, tapping your pen to the edge of the mini spiral impatiently as you suppressed the urge to vomit at his behavior. “If you’re not going to order anything, please sit at one of the tables instead so that another customer can take your place at the bar.”

Naoki whimpered and scuttled to hide more as the man stood up. He towered over you and the little boy’s heart started to beat faster with fear.

“Oh, is that right, princess?”

You bristled at the nickname and bit the inside of your cheek to stop some very colorful words from escaping, throwing a hard side glance at your husband when he abruptly stood up with a snarl painted on his face.

Moving to stand in front of him, blocking the man’s view from Shinsou and also stopping your husband at the same time should he do anything reckless, you plastered your best customer service smile on your face.

“Please do not call me that.” You stated, making it clear that you weren’t actually asking. “If you cannot treat me with respect then you should leave.”

“Oh?” The man chuckled, the sound grating against your ears unpleasantly. “And what are you gonna do about it, sweet thing?”

Oh, that was it.

“I’m taken.” You responded dryly, crossing your arms over your chest. “I really don’t appreciate how you’re talking to me, and my husband wouldn’t either.”

He smiled a sinister smile, causing your skin to crawl. “I don’t see him.”

And Shinsou was done letting you take this disrespect.

“Hey.” He barked, standing up to take his place next to you. “If a lady tells you to back off, you listen.”

A snort came from the other and then condescending laughter followed. “Yeah right. All girls are ever good for is being a pretty little thing to show off on your arm, am I right?”

“You’re dead wrong, prick.” Shinsou hissed, indigo alight with unparalleled fury as he came up behind you, wrapping beefy arms around your waist and glaring at the guy who had the audacity to harass you like that. “You don’t talk to anybody like this, especially not my wife.”

The man should’ve taken the obvious warning and backed down but he didn’t. Instead, his interest transformed into judgement and you could visibly see the walls coming down and locking as his hatred overtook his entire being.

“Hybrid, huh?” He sneered in disgust at you. “No wonder you went after someone like her.”

Shinsou’s arms curled around you tighter protectively and he stiffened behind you, coiled like a cobra and ready to strike but you held him back again.

But before you could throw him out of Kaminari’s establishment yourself, someone beat you to it.

In two seconds flat, the man who had been snickering at you and high-fiving his buddies folded over, clutching his stomach as his expression contorted in pain.

Naoki planted his hands on his hips and nodded his head proudly as he kicked the man where it hurt. “No one talks to my Mama like that!!”

“Naoki!!” You cried out.

He had slipped away so quietly and so fast that you didn’t notice in time to stop it.

Leaning over the counter, you spotted him blinking back at you innocently as Yaoyorozu hustled him away from the troublesome men he had just put in his place.

Bakugou appeared, a menacing aura surrounding his broad frame as he loomed over the sniveling man now cowering beneath him.

“You’re fuckin’ lucky she asked you nicely, cause the rest of us ain’t gonna, bastard.” He snapped, explosions popping from his palms.

Twisting his arm behind his back, the fuming man marched out the front door with the captured one in his iron grip squealing like a pig, followed by Kaminari and Sero taking the others with Kirishima cracking his knuckles while flashing a smile over his shoulder, shutting the door behind him. They were going to teach him a little lesson.

Naoki raised his hands high above his head joyfully, a wide smile spread across his face. “Mama, Mama, did you see?! Did I do good?!”

Immediately, you and Shinsou rushed over to Naoki, pulling him in for a hug.

“Are you okay?!” You exclaimed, scanning over him for any injuries, making sure he isn’t hurt. “Naoki, you can’t just run off like that!! Or kick people!!”

He pouted, lowering his hands slightly. “But Papa taught me how!!”

Shinsou collapsed into a fit of laughter when he heard that and your head snapped towards him.

Your eyes glittered with a hint of amusement, wry tone rolling off your tongue. “Did he now?”

Naoki nodded vigorously, his mop of purple hair flopping around on his head. “Yup!! He said that if someone’s mean, then they’re a bully and I can fight back!!”

At this point, you didn’t know whether you should applaud your son or scold your husband for teaching him such things.

Yaoyorozu shook her head as you deftly tickled Naoki’s sides, making him laugh loudly. He looked so very proud of himself, rambling on and on about how he protected you against the big bad scary man, just like his daddy showed him.

Shinsou, who was leaning back against the counter casually as he observed the two of you, pushed off as his son tunneled into his legs.

“Papa, Papa, are you proud of me?” He pleaded to know, staring up at him with wide eyes just like a koala as he hugged his father’s shins.

Shinsou patted his head, brushing the wispy curls away from his eyes and chuckled. “Of course I am, squirt.”

“Toshi!!” You scolded good-naturedly, pushing up onto your feet.

Despite the talk about how nonviolence is a better route you knew would have to come later, you simply picked up Naoki and rested him on your hip as Shinsou tapped your cheek and murmured into your ear that he was going to go check on things outside.

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “Will you be alright?”

You nodded reassuringly. “Of course. Go. But don’t beat him up too badly, love.”

Shinsou huffed out a curt laugh, the waggle of his eyebrows making you giggle, dissipating the tense atmosphere in an instant.

When he disappeared from the establishment, you took Naoki to the back room to get away from all the craziness and clamor that came with your son kicking the prick in the balls. Midoriya offered to help Todoroki with serving the food while you took care of your son.

“Here you go, little one.” You whispered as you gathered up the coloring books and crayons hidden away in the bigger desk, placing it on the smaller one Tokoyami built just for him.

Naoki clapped his hands excitedly, making grabby hands for it, a happy noise emitting from him as soon as gave it to him. “Thank you, Mama!!”

While he busied himself with coloring in a tiger with blues and yellows, you kept him company. That was, until the door clicked open.

You stood in a second, running over to him and flung your arms around his neck to hug him tight. Naoki remained engrossed in coloring in the Disney Princess on the page as you checked over the black panther.

“You okay?” You whispered shakily, a hint of fear slipping in as your collected façade cracked.

Shinsou rested his forehead against yours, breathing softly as he cupped your jaw. “Yes, I’m alright. Don’t worry, doll.”

The corners of your mouth twitched as you protested childishly, “... ‘m not worried.”

He exhales sharply, chuckling faintly at your characteristic stubbornness and hummed nonchalantly. “Whatever you say, princess.”

He lowered his voice, murmuring repeatedly that he was okay as your trembling fingers brushed over his bruised knuckles. They were a little busted up and bloody from a particularly hefty punch he delivered to the jerk’s jaw. He was going to feel that in the morning.

Shinsou kept you in his embrace for as long as Naoki took to finish coloring his picture. By the time he did, you had calmed down enough to go back out and finish your shift.

Wiping sweaty palms on your uniform, you sniffled and raised your head up high. You could do this. You had come a long way from the little girl who became paralyzed at the mere sight of a drop of blood.

He was a bit battered but he would heal. He was okay.

As you bustled about behind the counter, fighting back a smile as Kaminari sashayed up to you and asked for your favorite so that he could give it back to you, you laughed out loud when Shinsou smacked him upside the head for doing such a thing.

Naoki ran around, looking for more bullies to kick in the balls before Shoji caught onto what he was doing and diverted his attention to helping Jirou spin some tunes, with some earplugs in, of course, so that his hearing wasn’t damaged.

Shinsou’s cheeks colored as you stretched up on your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his temple.

“Thank you for defending my honor.” You whispered somewhat teasingly. “It’s nice to know that my boys have my back.”

His chest rumbled with laughter and an arm looped around your middle, drawing you close to his side as the night rush slowed down and you were finally given a chance to breathe. Tail wrapping around your hip, the cool metal of his ring kissed your skin as his fingers intertwined with yours.

Ignoring the banter of an indignant Naoki and a pouty Kaminari, Shinsou nudged his nose against your temple and sighed softly.

“Forever and always, doll.”

309 notes · View notes

mystic-sky · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: here’s Part 2/4💘 I told y’all I’m gonna finish this and I will. this short series is NSFW. Enjoy 😭❤️

✨part 1 here✨ | ✨parts 3 & 4 on ao3 only✨

Some would say this was entirely unnecessary, perhaps even a little too casual for work. But you know when you have one of those really good friends you’d do anything for? The kind you’d spend money on without a second thought? That’s how you felt about Suguru. You could call him whenever you wanted and he’d come fix up your car for you, help you lift things, or just lend you his ear. He was an extremely good listener, and he was always there for you. It was hard to believe such a sweet guy could be friends with Satoru. It was also hard to believe how you could ever favor Satoru more.

You were incredibly excited to give Suguru all the things you had gotten him over the weekend. Then, like a raining brick shower, did you remember that he came to your work place, with Satoru, and you anonymously gave him a lap dance. And now, you have to talk to both of them like you weren’t shaking your ass in their faces the night before. Tough.

You questioned all your life decisions as you anxiously dialed Shoko. You told her it was urgent and that you needed help with the gift bags, as well as time for girl talk and morning coffee before work.

When she arrived you graciously hugged her, whining and crying her name as you reached over the arm rest.

“You didn’t tell anyone where I worked at, right?” You say, tear stricken and panicked as you peer at her through wet eyes. She shot you an almost betrayed look. When did you start thinking she could be that menacing?

“No- are you crying? Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” She pushed you away, staring worriedly with baggy under eyes.

“Suguru and Satoru showed up to my other job last night.” You shrieked, leaning against the wheel of your car and burrowing your head in your arms.

“I did have a blindfold on but I don’t know if they knew it was me.” You say, muffling your embarrassment.

Shoko could’ve laughed a bit, picking up her iced coffee.

“You always did talk about giving Satoru the dance of his life to put his pitiful attitude in check.” She said, unpackaging the straw and stabbing the lid.

“Shoko!”

“What? Your words not mine.” She said smugly.

“I mean that’s how I felt but then he actually showed up! And then he gave my co worker his number to give to me! He definitely knows it’s me!”

“Why would he give it to you again on a piece of paper if he knew it was you?” Shoko quizzed.

“To fuck with me, obviously.” You mutter, sinking into the drivers seat. “That’s Satoru shit.”

She swished her coffee around, further mixing her creamer. “That does sound like Satoru behavior.”

“Shoko!” You whined again. “How the heck am I supposed to face him? Not to mention, I got Suguru all this stuff and I was so excited to give it to him. You think he knows too? And what if he didn’t know but Satoru told him? Ugh- my head hurts.” You say, taking up your coffee and plunging the lid with your own straw.

“How good was your blindfold?” She raises a brow at you.

“I looked like Harley Quinn’s knock off stripper sister.” Shoko let a laugh, earning a grunt from you.

“Okay okay, so they probably don’t know. But I would just suck it up and act like you don’t know anything either. Like an ‘I know that you know that I know’ kinda situation? But you’re not gonna do anything about it- kinda thing.”

“And you could always switch jobs if you’re that mortified. Poor Suguru, and his gifts though. It seems like Satoru ruins everything for him.” She sighed.

Shoko had a way of pretending like things weren’t as bad as they were, and though sometimes it bothered you, talking to her helped you relax.

“I forgot to mention I gave Suguru a dance.” You sink more into your chair, covering your face.

“Oh then they definitely know.” She teased.

“Shoko!!!” You whined again.

“I’m kidding! There’s no guarantee that they know or don’t know.” Shoko said, placing her coffee down. “I would fake it until you can’t.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole. Couldn’t you just live a peaceful life?

“I have to move away and change my name, it’s the only way.” You cried.

“Let me help you get the bags,” Shoko said, stepping out the car and ignoring you entirely.

“I was only messing with you, they don’t know a thing. I overheard the two of them inside talking about how nice the place was. They didn’t mention anything in particular while I was clocking in.”

You panicked anyway. Why would they?

“Now up and out, you can’t hide in your car forever.”

You sluggishly climbed out the vehicle and opened your trunk.

“If it makes you feel better I’ll ask them about it for you.” Shoko helped you gather Suguru’s gifts and you went inside.

Just relax, (Name). Be cool, be cool.

You were dazed, deep in thought as you and Shoko walked through the halls. You never regretted giving anyone a lap dance during your entire dancing career. You honestly don’t know what came over you. All you wanted was to make Satoru’s mouth water. It’s not like you didn’t already have his attention with his constant flirting at work but still, why did you have to be so gutsy?

You set the gifts down on your desk, before slumping into your office chair.

“Good morning!” You heard the white haired devil chirp through the door way, knocking ever so lightly on the already opened door. Suguru trailed in quietly behind him, greeting you and Shoko.

“Morning!” Suguru hummed, taking a delicate sip from his coffee.

You shyly waved, before Shoko spoke. “How was your night out?”

Breaking the ice for us all Shoko, I thank the heavens and earth for your existence.

“It was great! Wish you guys could’ve been there. Fanciest club I’ve ever been to, like ever.” Satoru spoke, shoving his hands in his pocket.

“It was cool. I still would’ve rather went to dinner with everyone.” Suguru shrugged, setting his coffee on his desk. You watched Satoru approach your table, quickly changing the subject of conversation.

“What’s all this?” He quizzed, looking down at your sheepish body in your chair. Did they really not know? Or were they possibly pretending not to?

“T-These are gifts, for Suguru,” you stand, feeling a bit more confident. The dark haired male perked up at you, before walking towards your desk.

“I told you not to get me anything,” he sighed. You could see the soft smile edging on his lips as he looked down at you. “And then you spoil me like this? People are gonna think we’re dating, you know?”

You swore you heard Satoru scoff.

“Hush, I told you it’s not a big deal. Besides, you’re always helping me out without asking. You deserve to be spoiled!” You say firmly, hands on your hips. He blushed a bit, realizing he wouldn’t be able to argue with you if he tried.

“You never spoil me this much on my birthday,” Satoru pouted, quickly inserting himself between the two of you, both verbally and physically.

“You’ve got to make your mark on people Satoru,” Shoko said, taking a seat behind her desk.

“I spoil all my friends as needed.” You say, crossing your arms proudly. “If you were a little nicer, maybe I wouldn’t think twice about buying you a bunch of nice things. Besides, your mistresses spoil you plenty.”

“Mistresses? What mistresses? (Name) it hurts my feelings when you talk like that.” Satoru put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

“You have feelings?” Everyone but Satoru said this in unison, resulting the room to fill with heavy laughter.

“Oooo so funny.” He said sarcastically, keeping the straightest face.

“If you’re good to me for the rest of the year I’ll get you something nice.” You say, soothing the wound you all gave him.

“But it’s not your birthday right now, is it?” You say, flipping your hair and shifting behind Suguru. You gave him a little push.

“Go head, open them!” You say excitedly. Suguru lets out a soft laugh, before digging into his bounty.

After watching him open his gifts while Satoru graciously recorded the entire moment for his Instagram, the white haired fiend sparked up an idea.

“So, since Suguru kept saying he wanted to do something with everyone I thought we could take a getaway trip this weekend to my folk’s place in the country side.”

“Just us 4?” Shoko asked. “And are you sure we won’t be bothering your parents?”

“Oh no, this is their vacation house. They only go on the holidays. Also, Nanami is definitely coming!” Satoru cooed.

“That sounds like so much fun!” Shoko swooned.

“I haven’t seen Nanami in so long. This should be exciting.” You clasp your hands together delightedly.

“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t actually ask Nanami if he wanted to come yet...” Geto squinted at Satoru, who smiled childishly.

“Nanami loves me. He is coming by default.” He says proudly. “Speaking of, I have to go meet with him tomorrow to take care of some business. So unfortunately, I won’t be able to train with Megumi. (Name) do you think you could pick him up from school for me tomorrow?”

“The middle schooler you’ve been teaching? Why do I have to do it?” You ask, swaying your hips as you look at him.

“Because~” he sung.

“Because...?”

“He’s been talking about meeting you!” He gleamed.

“Has he really? Are you talking about me behind my back or something? How does the kid even know who I am?”

“Of course! I’ve told him plenty stories about the all powerful (Name)! The mightiest jujutsu sorceress to date.” He was clearly just trying to flatter you.

“Fine, I’ll pick up the kid.” You roll your eyes.

“Yay~” He says, casually hugging you. He always did that, not that you actually minded. And you knew he knew it got to you every time, hearing him smirk as you push him off. You force back a blush as Suguru speaks.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” he smirks with him a bit.

“I just wanted him to stop talking.” You say, grabbing your purse. You could hear Shoko attempting to stifle a laugh behind you.

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys later. I have a class to teach.” You waved goodbye, on your way to cater to the class of second years you were currently responsible for.

You were finally able to relax, feeling like your dancer identity was safe. Now, all you have to do is forget the lap dance and pray to whatever God there is that neither of them would come back. You proceeded to take out your phone and text your club manager, asking for the weekend off. You were lucky she was so lenient.

The work day lasted longer than you’d liked to, and you hadn’t stayed behind to chat with anyone. Shoko knew you were always keen on going home to shower and relax a bit before your shift at the club.

You were in the club locker room, just barely after 10pm. You wanted to ask Tasty for juicy details on Suguru. You were eager to know if he had texted her or had talked of coming back. Fortunately for you at the same time, she was off today. To you, this decreased the likelihood of seeing the dark haired male and his devilish best friend. That is, if he truly liked her enough to come back.

You were wearing a more revealing set this evening- a suede, pink two piece. You made sure your heel straps were tight enough around your ankles before walking out onto the floor to do your first 10 minute set of the evening. You spun on the pole, climbing gracefully. The higher you went, the more dollars being thrown. You slid down the pole, connecting your body to the floor with a split. You crawled lionlike towards the edge the stage, greeting some of your regulars who sat towards the front. Flipping your body, you get up smoothly ending the routine and collecting your bounty.

As you walked down the stage and made your way towards the bar, you could see the silhouette of a tall, white haired male, speaking to the bartender. His body was turned away from you, and he was ordering a drink as if he just got there.

You knew it was him. You could recognize his cocky stance just about anywhere. You dropped to the floor, crawling away and earning stares from plenty of your coworkers and customers alike. Oh I’m definitely quitting, you thought.

You managed to crawl back towards the locker room.

“This cannot become a routine,” you clutched your chest. It felt like you were having another mini heart attack like the night before. Did he just decide this was his new favorite spot? You could’ve sworn you were in the clear. And two days in a row?

He knows, he has to. Should you confront him? Twice was too many times. You almost can picture his smug face out there right now. You’re a bit angry that he had the nerve to come back again, but a portion of you, the little devil inside you- wanted him to watch you dance again.

Then you remembered Shoko’s words. Fake it until you can’t anymore.

If he wanted to play, then you’d give him exactly what he wanted. You opened your locker, fiddling around through your costumes and head coverings. You took hold of the a pink masquerade mask you had left over from a theme night at the club a few weeks ago.

“This should do.” You say, sliding on the seductive looking mask and fixing your hair in the the mirror. You struck a pose, before flipping your hair in satisfaction and strutting out of the room. You walked past a few regulars, and made yourself comfortable by the bar area. You decided you’d dance around everyone but him.

Satoru took note of your scent first, realizing your feminine force was behind him. He sipped his drink before spinning in his barstool to look at you dancing amongst the other customers. He adjusted his sunglasses, taking in the sight of you.

The set you wore was more revealing than the one from yesterday. He felt like he truly missed out the night before as he watched you drag your hand down the chest of a stranger, feeling a bit envious. His length felt tight in his jeans yet again. But he was a smooth guy, he knew exactly how to make you come to him.

You noticed him get up from the bar, walking away from where you danced. You couldn’t help but get distracted and anxious. You didn’t want Satoru anywhere you couldn’t see him. You almost jumped when your club’s bouncer, Ravi, approached you in the middle of your mini lap dance.

“Candy, the tall guy,” he tried not to point, “the white haired one with dark glasses wants a private dance.” Satoru approached the bouncer earlier when he first came in, pre-requesting a dance from you and tipping him a hefty amount for it. Though he’d explained he’d be fine if you declined it, he truly just wanted to see just how far he could get.

You stared at the thick wad of cash that stuck out of the pocket of Ravi’s dress shirt. You knew Satoru had the guts to ask you directly, but it was more so that he was that much of an asshole, who simply wanted you to approach him on your own.

Ravi then pointed loosely with his chin at Satoru, who had been sitting on the sofa on the other side of the club now.

You nodded, assuring Ravi you weren’t going to keep him waiting. You walked slowly towards him, he barely made eye contact with you.

Fake it until you can’t.

“Hey handsome,” you lean over the railing, displaying your breasts right beside him. He perked up a bit, though he briefly watched you walk towards him beforehand. He sparks a grin, and you can see blue orbs peering ever so slightly over the edges of his glasses.

“Hey,” he confidently sits back, not even shy about looking at your breasts.

“Have you been here before?” A classic conversation starter, but were you were attempting to poke fun at the awkward situation.

“Ahh, yes! Ms. Number One, from the private dancer line up. I was here yesterday with my friend.” He took a sip from his glass. “But I don’t expect you to remember. You’re a very busy, and talented woman.”

You bite back a blush, “Thank you.”

“A little birdie told me you wanted a private dance,” you maneuvered around the railing but still leaned against it.

“Oh yeah,” he preferred not to waste time. He pulled a thick and wrapped stack of cash from his shirt and placed it on the table in front of you. You tried your best to keep your eyes from widening. The currency strap read $5000.

“A private dance in the private booth costs a hundred.” You felt inclined to remind him as the both the stack and him stared back at you. “And if you wanted the highest package it’s $500 with champagne and refreshments included for the hour, typically for a group.”

“It says that on your website,” he nods, clearly already knowing the information. You almost squint at him before he speaks again.

“Also, I figured I’d pay you enough to go home for the night if you felt like it.” He shrugged. The Gojo family clearly had it well for him to just toss five thousand dollars at a stranger. You shivered when you remembered counting your earnings from the night before, two thirds of the pile being from Satoru.

A part of you felt like ripping your mask off and asking him to go home. Your awkward silence made him stifle a laugh.

“Candy, baby girl, is somethin’ wrong?”

You knew he knew you were blushing, even with your mask. But you promised yourself one thing after leaving the locker room- you would bring him to his knees. And if he wanted to play, you’d be sure to win.

“Alright hot stuff, come with me.” You used a finger to slide the stack towards you before picking it up.

He grinned at you before you brought him to one of the private rooms. Everything was preset up considering Ravi saw you warming him up prior.

Satoru made himself comfortable in the soft velvet cushions and red lighting. You sat beside him, taking hold of one of the champagne bottles from the ice bucket. You popped it open, causing some of the foam to splatter onto your breasts and stomach.

“Whoops,” you said playfully. You always liked to tease with the exclusive dances. He bites his lip while he watches you fill both of your glasses, taking up one soon after.

“Do you guys have candy here?”

“Only mints by the bar. Did you want something sweet?” That’s so like him, you thought.

“Nah, mints don’t count.” He shook his head. “Chocolate anything?”

“We have chocolate-covered strawberries,” you suggest.

“That’ll do,” he clutches one of the heart shaped pillows, flashing smile.

You rung the bell on the wall, speaking into the microphone beside it to make the request before plopping beside him.

“You’ve got me for the hour,” you leant towards him, crossing your legs. “So let’s make it count.”

“I was hoping we could talk for a bit first,” he said, swishing the liquid in his glass. You almost panicked, but quickly spoke up.

“Sure, whatever you want.” You lean your arm on edge of the couch. It wasn’t uncommon for guys to request dances from you just for you to listen to their qualms for the hour. Although, you never pictured Satoru as the type to do so. Actually scratch that— you settled into the sofa, preparing to hear him ramble on about himself. You made sure to keep eye contact with him, making it known you were indeed listening.

“I got a thing for this girl— she’s amazing. She hates me though. Granted, I’ve been an asshole since high school. I think she’s into my best friend, although he promises me it’s nothing like that.”

“Have you tried flirting with her?” Satoru was infamous for being a casual, serial dater. You wondered who she could be. Just because you were in his inner circle didn’t necessarily mean this girl was you or anyone you might’ve known. But you couldn’t help but put yourself into perspective anyway.

“Yeah, but she’s pretty mean though.” He grinned, “To me.”

“And that makes you happy?” You questioned.

“I mean, obviously it doesn’t.” He clarified, realizing just how crazy he looked in that moment. “Oddly enough, I’d like to think she likes me back a bit.”

“Sounds kiddish right?” He chuckles. “Like is she a middle schooler or something? She’s been playing hard to get for a while now.”

You twitch your eye a bit, was he really that full of himself?

“She probably doesn’t like you. You shouldn’t try to read between the lines. Have you ever asked her directly if she does?” You reason, trying to humble him a bit.

“Nah, I guess I’m just afraid to ask her the right way.” He cocked his head back, earning a confused look from you. You never knew Satoru could be afraid of anything. He was seemingly a fearless person and he was the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer to date.

“Could you elaborate?” You poked.

“She’s the only woman whose ever rejected me. Can you believe that?”

You’re partially amused, these truly were the thoughts in his head— you were sure of it.

“What I mean mostly is that I think she’s an idiot,” he chuckled. You almost broke into laughter.

“For rejecting you?”

“No, no, no— well, maybe. I think she’s incredibly dense. I’ve known her for like 10 years. That or she just tunes out my advances.” He scoffs.

“Everyone else knows it’s obvious I still like her. I think the reason why I’m never direct with my feelings, or the reason I boil it down to casual flirting is because I’m scared of her rejecting me again.”

“The first time was when we were both seniors in high school. She told me to try again after I learned some ‘compassion’. It feels like she’s somewhat interested in me. And I hardly think I need to learn anything— but it’s been years since she said that.” He adds.

He hadn’t looked at you the entire time, sort of ogling at his drink before setting it down.

He was unraveling in front of you, as a complete stranger.

“You get this a lot— the sappy talks, right?”

You nodded, “It’s no big deal.”

“I promise I’m not like this all the time.”

A clearer look inside Satoru’s mind was interesting, to say the least. You don’t think he acted this way on purpose. Perhaps, nothing has pushed him into such a corner for him to begin actively taking people’s feelings into account the way the average person might.

He huffed. “What would you do?”

You pondered for a bit, what would you do? You weren’t sure who the mystery woman he described was but you felt a little jealous, trying to wrap your head around the idea of him being this smitten over someone. He had given you a taste of himself, something he dared not to show you when you weren’t wearing the mask.

“Be direct next time you approach her. Stop playing around so much and tell her how you really feel. Nothing too grand, and try your best to understand her if she rejects you again. You’re a handsome guy, so it won’t be the end of the world if she does.” You explain.

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive by saying that last part either.” You added. Though his head was cocked back, his gaze shifted towards you. He hardly looked worried or sad at all. He shot you a toothy smirk, making you squirm in your seat a bit.

“I know that,” he finally says. There he was again, being his typical arrogant self. “If it doesn’t work out, you’ll see me back here again.”

Dear God, Satoru becoming one of your regulars? You didn’t know if you could handle that. You could just work in a different club. Lord, let this mystery woman scoop him up, and make your life easier.

The thought of him coming regularly just to see you made you happy sort of, but you found yourself getting jealous for the days you wouldn’t work. Suddenly, you didn’t want anyone else dancing for him. It had to be you.

“Woah, you okay?” He tilted his head towards you. You held your cheeks in your hand. If you were a kettle, you’d physically be steaming.

“You’ve got a cute side, Ms. Candy. That’s precious.” He leant forward, glasses sliding down his nose a bit. No matter how long you’ve known him, he would still give you butterflies just like when you were younger.

The server entered the room, placing the strawberries that he ordered onto the table. You watched him take off his shades and hang them on his shirt.

“Fuck yes,” he grinned, picking up one of the chocolate covered fruits. You watched him take a bite, tugging on your own bottom lip. He slid his tongue between two fingers, blue orbs just barely glinting at you. He hummed in delight as you awed at him. Really, everything about him was perfect aside from his flawed personality. You would’ve been dating him already if you felt he’d be a good boyfriend. He was obviously and unfairly attractive. You were positive the sex would be good too, considering you heard more than satisfactory things. He was tall, and wealthy, and strong and talented. He was just a shitty person sometimes.

Somehow you liked him all this time, he’s been the only man whose kept your interest. That’s partially because he was persistent, in the most attractive and appealing way. But you’re adults now, maybe you should stop playing around so much.

Did you even have time to change your mind with this mystery girl in the way?

“I think I’m ready for my dance now,” he said smugly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Of course baby. Just sit back and relax.” You had to remind yourself, you’re Candy right now, and not (Name).

He sunk back into the sofa, spreading his legs as you got up and positioned yourself in front of him. He spreads his long arms on the head of the sofa, slight smile leaking at the corners of his lips.

You swayed your body, giving him a show. It was finally happening. You were giving him the very thing you fantasized about since you started dancing. You climbed onto his lap, grinding against him as the music played in tandem with your hips. He seemed elated, and not even remotely ashamed of the growing bulge in his jeans. You were feeling antsy, watching him with his arms sprawled out like that.

“I don’t normally let people touch me during my dances, but you can if you want.” You weren’t supposed to sound so shy when you said it.

“You’re being extremely generous, I’ll tip you again, for sure baby.”

You felt his large, hot hands connect with your back, running down the smooth skin. You smiled smugly, looking down at him. You grinded against him some more, feeling his bulge confidently poke against your sex.

All you ever wanted was for him to touch you like this. You were mad at yourself for holding out this long— why did his hands feel so good against your bare skin?

Possibly just because you liked him, and that amplified the experience.

Lost in the moment, you felt your hands run through the smooth fade of his undercut while you humped his lap. The amount of stimulation this gave the both of you was astounding. You heard a soft groan leave his lips, rising color out of your cheeks.

You brought a finger to the string of your outfits top, pulling it undone and gracing him with the sight of your breasts as you tossed the fabric on the sofa. He was sort of surprised, but his facial expression was nothing short of cocky. It wasn’t the first time a stranger stripped top-less for him, and coincidentally, making panties drop was his hobby.

“Oh~?”

His voice was terrifically deep, you never knew he could drop an octave this low. You’d usually be talking up a storm, doting on your customers with compliments and saying appropriately reassuring things. The entire experience was weird, having your childhood crush grope you and nuzzle his face into your breasts hadn’t been on your to do list for the evening.

He hummed against the skin in the center of your chest, sending vibrations up your spine.

“I know I’m pushing it, considering this is nothing but a service agreement, but I’d be happy to make you feel good— if you want me to, that is.”

You looked down at him, knowing the mask you wore couldn’t save you from him noticing the blushing look on your face.

“Just what do you take me for?” You’re being playful about it, wrapping your arms around his neck so he knows you’re not offended.

“A hard working woman. I envy the man who gets to spoil you.”

You couldn’t think of a response, and you assumed he caught on due to the way your lips parted and no sound emerged.

“Ohh-hoh??? There isn’t one, is there?”

He stole the show from you, and now you’re sitting in his lap like some sort of blushing sheep.

“That makes me feel sort of special,” he purred, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a dainty moan, grinding harder against him. You were no longer grinding along with the music, just finding a rhythm that would satisfy the both of you. He grunted at your sudden change in pace, his searing hot breath against your skin.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, nipple between his teeth.

“What about the girl you like?” You found yourself regretting even saying that, considering you were supposed to be a neutral party.

“You jealous?”

You suck in your bottom lip, barely forming a pout. He truly was an asshole to everyone. It didn’t even matter if someone was on top of him. Before you’re able to say anything, he speaks again.

“Don’t be.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the center of your chest, heightening the crimson hues on your cheeks. His soft lips unfortunately tore from your body when his phone rang. He slipped the thing from his jacket pocket, answering the call.

“Alright, I’ll be there in 30.” He said finally after following subsequent huffs. He ended the call, looking back up at you with apologetic eyes.

“I’ve gotta cut this short,” he was pained to say it. He was having too much fun.

“That’s alright.” You say, sliding your leg off him and finding your top.

He stood, straightening his clothes whilst muttering what you barely made out as ‘fuckin’ Nanami’ through his teeth. You almost laughed, as you tied your top back on.

“Candy, baby, I’m sorry. Guess I’ll have to come back again.” He looked too happy to say it.

“Before your confession?” You say smugly. “Or after?”

“No no, I’m a man of my word. I’ll come back only under those conditions I mentioned.” He says.

“I wish you the best of luck.” You say, crossing your legs.

“You’re rooting for me? You really don’t wanna see me again.” He chuckled as he towered over you, his blue gaze now covered by his glasses again.

“I’m always rooting for my customers.” You smile slyly.

His grin softened, and you wish you knew why he was looking at you like that.

“See you around, Ms. Candy.”

He waved goodbye as he exited the room, finally allowing you a some relief. Hopefully this chick doesn’t reject him, you thought.

Even though he probably wouldn’t come back, you thought about quitting and working elsewhere anyway. You tore off your mask, pushing your hair back out of your face.

You really didn’t want to have to wear one of these again.

#gojo satoru #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk gojo #lil bit if suguru in here #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru #getou fluff #jjk x reader

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ginwhitlock · 3 years ago

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summary: JASPER/ BELLA. set in eclipse (but is so far from canon honestly all you need to know is that victoria is after bella). When Jasper snatches Bella away to Texas to escape a vampire’s hunt for the girl who killed her lover, Bella comes clean about her hearts unfaithfulness on an unsettling summer morning, in front of God and everybody.

fic type: oneshot, no explicit scenes

warnings: religious guilt, Bella’s weird brand of horny, cheating on Edward, oh and Alice just doesn’t exist— don’t think about it too hard

There was this openness in the air, something stirring from the west, saturating the cotton fields. A yellow eyed barn cat stood still in the morning light, it’s black coat shifting with the bite of ghostly mice. Whiskers twitching.

It was watching her, she was sure of it, like the pecan trees and the paddock mud and the mosquitoes. All beady-eyed and searching the brown haired girl, the one with crooked ankles and misaligned bangs that just barely kissed her cheeks in the late summer sun. She looked home grown. Wheat wild. A child of desert planes. And most importantly, she looked lost.

“I thought you’d still be sleeping by now.” A hushed baritone slipped from the screen door, it’s owner donned in dark royal denim and loose leather.

If it had been just months before, Bella would’ve rolled her eyes.

But she was different now. As different as Washington was to Texas. As different as evergreens were to red oak. She swore even the sweat didn’t smell right.

“Wanted to catch the sunrise.” There was a softness to her front teeth, the round of her molars quiet against one another. To whose ears she was catering to she didn’t know. And to be honest, she didn’t quite care anymore.

Bella made out a lazy nod from her peripheral, the shaggy haired man seemingly relaxed out here on the front porch of her judgement day, all tan and tall and scented like rolled tobacco.

Shut up, stupid girl.

Jasper murmured out a response, something about humans needing sleep and southern sunrises being worthy enough to diminish the former from its place on his immortal pedestal. There was a creak and a groan from the haint green floorboards underneath her before she found herself shoulder to shoulder with the two hundred year old soldier; a stray wind had blown through the shaved baby blond hair lining his chin in the slightest of ways. There was a caution light screaming out from his stature and the brunette girl had the painful urge to swallow it under her teeth and tongue. Soak it in holy water and hide it in her skin for him to find. Or rather, Him, if this stay was going to end like she thought it ought to.

He couldn’t feel that… could he? Stupid, stupid—

“The marigolds should be blooming about now, just west of the barn. They’re quite a bit prettier than Peter’s fields.” There was something off in the lit of his tongue, the way it flipped and rolled off his teeth. It came out… wrong. Forced. Like he was trying to be overtly kind. The way you talk to a frightened rabbit you clipped with the lawn mower.

Bella frowned something deep and turned nose at Jasper. “Why did you bring me here, Hale?”

With the question came a wince to his brow, a noticeable blow to his stature. He seemed to fold ever so slightly towards the young girl.

“Don’t— don’t call me that.”

Silence filled the unwalled prison of the porch like nothing else, the birds and wind seemingly gone to rest whenever the two entered into each other's space. Like worldly magnets, chess pieces that threw blows instead of diagonals. The quiet held them both. It held them together.

Bella Swan blinked slowly in an unknown apology before settling back on the blond with the stone facade. She waited for him to continue.

He sighed. “It’s safer here. Victoria wouldn’t come this far south without encountering things far worse than the likes of Emmett or Rose.”

“But this wasn’t Edward’s plan, was it?” Bella’s lashes were like rodeo announcers with their back and forth turns to the outlook of western Texas.

Jasper looked every bit of his one hundred fifty years as he laid a freezing hand on hers, their knuckles slotting together with unpracticed ease. “No. But it’s mine. And you’re gonna have to accept that.”

She refused to nod at the man with the thigh clenching, hard work mending, touch, for more than a second. She was far from the type of girl that would lay down and let the boys run out their wildest stupidities on her seemingly catastrophic life, but she felt almost resigned in Jasper's hands. There was a calmness between them she couldn’t place as artificial or not, the soft wool of contentedness slowly covering the surveyor-ship she felt stepping outside this morning. The stares of the flora and fauna turned internal. Fire burned in the pit of her stomach, on the nape of her neck, across the fragile skin of her cheeks where freckles started to show, and mostly, on the warming flesh of her hand where their hands met gently.

Maybe it was Edward looking onto them from a frozen forest hundreds of miles from here as he hunted a scarlet monster, discovering the hidden plumpness swirling around in his lover's chest for the brother he always worried about, but for all the wrong reasons.

Or maybe…

“Jasper, can I ask you something?”

His eyes were like serpents, glowing yellow under the copper wind chimes above them.

“Whatever you wish, Isabella.”

Swallow. Breathe. “When you were human… did you believe in God?”

A pause sliced the air in two. The cotton plants seemed to stop swaying. The feline vanished. A golden eyebrow fell to his browbone.

“Yes, Isabella. Yes I did.” His face was drawn, distant, like an old time movie screen was playing out on his stone eyelids.

Bella’s lips pulled at themselves with her front teeth. “Do you think He’s vengeful?”

Their eye contact sealed itself, his hand moving on its own accord up her hand to her wrist, cradling the small, delicate bones that allowed her to touch him— but not now. Not ever again.

“When I was a boy, my mama took me to church every Sunday at seven A.M sharp, and sent me to Sunday school after the service. I was the oldest, even then, and I had more responsibilities than just listening to the preacher ramble on about divinity and charity and sacrifice.”

Jasper's face was taught with memory.

“I had two baby sisters by the time I turned seven and they were the number one priority, you have to understand, Isabella. Ada and Caroline couldn’t have been older than three when the Leroy boy died sitting in the pew behind us… poor child got heatstroke in his wool britches and after that I started dressing the girls in the lightest things I could find and never waited long after the sermon to get back.”

Bella turned stormy under the weight of the seemingly young man's words, her eyes dropping from his own to study the way his fingers wrapped around her skin like a life jacket, one part caregiver and one part destroyer. Jasper's own hands seemed to start to tremor just slightly under her stare, or maybe it was from the wash of his own words.

He took a breath he didn’t need. “But. I started listening when my mother got sick, before the girls finished schooling. Started praying. A part of me was guilty that I hadn’t started before I needed something, that the reason I spoke to Him was for a favor, and a big one at that. I was making up for lost time, I thought. I was begging on my knees for anything. And I didn’t get it.

“They buried an empty coffin with my name on it under a white wooden cross after the army said I went missing. Caroline would plant violets around it in the spring, weed out the planters and start again in the fall. She’d leave me communion wafers in our family pew and have Ada try to talk with me through the minister.”

“I’m so sorry.” A true sadness settled in her bones, her seemingly selfish desire to have the question answered sat like a heavy stone in the out of her stomach. Her heart held out a warm woolen space for him and she silently begged he would sit in it, for his own sake.

He waved her off and took on a slight smile, something she had never seen from Jasper. Not in any capacity before that very moment.

She decided she would try to see it every chance she got for as long as he’d let her.

“I wasn’t a man of religious structure, Isabella, but. I was a man of faith. The small times I was allowed to watch over my sisters only reminded me of that, no matter how far down to hell I had reached, I still had faith in redemption.”

His teeth clicked together not unpleasantly. “But I haven’t answered your question have I?” There was a knowing-ness in his voice box and Bella wanted to drink it down like communion wine. She smiled back slightly.

He was beautiful when he sighed.

“I’ve done horrible things. Killed innocent people. Slaughtered children and mothers and lambs of God. I have worn blood on my hands like a second skin and not once during any of it did I feel remorse. But darlin,” his lashes fluttered like leaves, “not once did I think God wanted me to hate myself for what I had done. I think… He forgave me a long time ago, before I ever forgave myself. So no. I don’t believe in my brother’s vengeful punisher. Not today. Not in this lifetime.“ She’d never hear the ‘not with you’ fragment he had stuck in his mind.

She had to step back from him then, the vampire who had become all consuming to her chest and her heart and her fingers. The air was warmer in the space behind him but it almost didn’t matter, the warmth layering her skin was enough to burn through an air conditioning unit anyway. Bella’s hands found clumsy solace in her back pockets as she stared ahead at the rows of painful cotton buds waiting to be harvested. The blood almost pulled to her fingertips.

Teeth and lips found each other. “I don’t think I’m not going to get punished for this.”

Her words were concrete. Cement. Blacktop on a Kansas back road. They could’ve cut glass if she wanted them to. They almost did as he looked at her.

“For what, Isabella?”

Knowing bastard. Always. Knowing.

No trembling allowed now.

“For wanting you when Edwards away. When he’s in the same room as us. When he’s hunting the woman who's trying to kill me and you’re just standing there telling me not to be afraid of my own horrible heart… for betraying everything I’ve begged for since me and your brother met. I deserve to get punished for this, don’t I? Don’t you think?”

She was sweating now, cold droplets running down her back to her the soft slope of her ass. Her knuckles were popping against each other like fireworks and she thought she might faint right then and there, MONSTER written across her forehead in a bruise from the impact.

A scarred hand felt itself into its place under Bella’s chin and forced her rocking skull to finally glimpse the face she had been thinking of every moment she pulled her eyes away. Jasper Hal— Whitlock? And his clear midnight pupils branding her soul in a sinner’s blush. His lips formed a wonderful crook as he slowly pushed her flat against the ancient siding of the old farmhouse belonging to his long standing brother who looked like everything Jasper was except for his spirit.

She could die this way and she would face God with a smile.

“What I feel for you deserves no punishment darlin, but if you insist, I think I’d rather do the punishing than any divine power.”

His lips were light rosy steel against Bella’s own as the clouds started to stretch out infinitely behind his back, unnoticed by the interlocked couple in their wake. A soft moan escaped as felt the soft chill of a crucifix digging into her neck.

Maybe God would forgive her for this. Just once.

#my fic #mine #twilight #thetwilightsaga #fic #twilight fics #my writing #jasper x bella #jasperella #writing #fanfiction #vampire #twilight fanfiction #oneshot

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overdramatic-queer-antagonist · 3 years ago

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Mick Mercury's Failed Attempt At Espionage

Summary: Mick Mercury was easily the most incompetent person Peter had ever met, and it infuriated him how long it took for them to be introduced. Notes: There is a severe lack of Mick Mercury in Season 3, and that will not stand, so I put him in.

Read it on Ao3

Fic:

"JJ! Hey! JJ! Hello? Can you hear me?"

Peter would not have made any connection to the aforementioned 'JJ,' and Juno Steel had he not been glowering at the petulant ex-detective when the unfamiliar man called out and seen how Juno had tensed at the voice.

The large man made a noise of annoyance, and oh God, he's walking towards Juno. Peter wasn't worried for the lady, he was wholly aware Juno knew how to handle himself, but Peter had yet to foresee an outcome of this conversation that didn't blow their cover.

"Juno Steel!" the man yelled as Juno continued to ignore him.

It was, unfortunately, very clear who he was addressing, and the woman Juno had been flirting with gave him a confused look. Peter would be lying if that didn't please him ever so slightly, but, as always, he filed that feeling away for later and went to save Juno's ass.

"Dear," Peter called out, attempting to get into the act of a doting husband, which had recently become much more difficult for him. Juno glanced at him appreciatively and went to stand at his side, where Peter promptly put an arm around his waist.

“You gave me a bit of a scare Mercury,” Juno said, looking at Peter for confirmation he wasn’t being dumb. Peter nodded ever so slightly as permission to continue. “Haven’t heard my maiden name in a while, no one’s called me that- well- since the wedding!” Juno forced a laugh that sounded more nervous than casual, but the woman he was talking with looked like she understood which- okay. That bothered Peter because that meant she was okay with flirting with a married man, but whatever, filed away.

“Wedding?” Mercury yelled. “JJ, You never told me anything about any wedding.”

“Listen, Mick, I know you're upset, but can we talk in private,” Juno’s eyes flickered to the woman he’d been speaking with, and Mick- Mick Mercury. What a fucking name- nodded. Juno led Mercury to a private corner of the ballroom, and Peter followed automatically. Mick gave Juno a look, but Juno returned it with one of his own, and Mick dropped whatever he was thinking. Peter couldn’t decide if it was frustrating or charming that they could hold a conversation without speaking. He settled on frustrating, simply because they were clearly close, and Juno had never thought to mention him. Granted, Peter wasn’t sure why that frustrated him, but it did. Another thing to file away.

The exact second they’d arrived at their designated corner, Mick spun on his feet. “Okay, what the hell, J? I always thought when you got married I’d at least get invited! I mean, obviously, I thought Benten or- hell, even Sasha would be man/maid of honor, but I thought I’d get an invite!” Juno tensed at the mention of Benzaiten, and Peter subconsciously put a hand on his lower back. Juno tensed more at this, but after a moment, relaxed. Mick continued on, oblivious. “And come on Juno, how long have you ever known this guy? We saw each other recently, and you didn’t even think to mention him?! I mean, I know we’ve grown apart since I almost got you killed by a serial killer lady, but come on, man!”

Juno gave Mick an incredulous look. “Okay, first of all, last time we saw each other, a robot made you try to kill me, not exactly the best time to bring it up. Second-”

“Second…” Peter interrupted before he, himself knew what he was doing. “We’ve known each other for three years. And my apologies for the lack of notice, Mick. See, I lead a very dangerous life, and my lady and I thought it safer to keep knowledge of my existence away from anyone who wasn’t trained in combat. And also Rita, but mainly because she tapped Juno’s comms and listened in on a very…”

“Oh my god!”

“Sorry, dear. I forgot how easily flustered you are.”

Mick gave Peter an appraising look for a second before deciding the answer was good enough for him and moving on. “So if you live such a dangerous life,” he lowered his voice to a -frankly terrible- whisper, “Then what are you doing here?”

Peter lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I really shouldn’t tell you this but, we’re on a secret mission. ‘Above Dark Matters’ secret. How about you?” This was a ridiculous cover, but he’d gotten away with stranger, besides, he was a little distracted by the woman Juno had been speaking to, looking their way, hungrily, no doubt at his companion. Peter’s grip around Juno tightened, and, to his surprise, Juno leaned into it.

“Really? Above Dark Matters? Juno, that’s great! Wow, Sasha must’ve flipped when you told her!”

“I didn’t Mercury, that’s what secret means. And I didn’t tell her about the mister either, and if you do, I’ll gut you like a fish.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Good. Hey, my husband asked a good question, why are you here?”

“I thought it might be good to get off of Mars after the whole Newtown debacle, so I got a job at a catering company, and then I got fired for eating all of the cupcakes, so I decided to join the party, and they haven’t noticed yet.”

Juno snickered. "Glad to see you're back to normal."

"Yeah, me too. Being responsible was exhausting, even with the good habits some of it brought. Anyways, I'll get back to the party, let you two plan out your secret mission," Mick finished that statement walking backward and, when it was finished, promptly ran into a plant.

"What was that about?" Juno asked. "I mean, I get that you had to lie to him, but why... That?"

"Why did you leave me in that hotel room?" Peter asked. He'd meant it as a joke, at Juno's expense, of course, but it came off a bit more genuine than he would have liked.

Juno flinched, and for a moment, all Peter wanted to do was sweep him up in a hug, apologize for bringing it up and move on, but Peter was allowed to be angry. After what felt like an eternity but was probably 5 seconds tops, Juno spoke, "We need to talk about that eventually. You know. If we're gonna be working together."

"And we will, Dear Detective, but not right now. I believe the bidding is starting soon."

---

The bidding did not go as planned. While Peter would like to claim it was entirely the fault of his accomplice, he would be dishonest if he did so, and Peter Nureyev lied to many people, but not himself. Mostly.

Their new plan was as followed, Juno would continue to distract Ms. Zolotovna -the woman, who'd been eyeing him all night- and Peter would swipe it while nobody- not even the cameras- was looking. The first flaw of this plan came from one Mick Mercury, who was really starting to piss Peter off.

Mick had cornered him while he was making his rounds to destroy all the cameras.

"Hey! Uh... I never got your name, but Juno's husband!"

Peter turned around a little more aggressively than he meant to. "Yes?" He asked, already on his last nerve.

"I- uhh... listen, bud, this conversation is gonna be real awkward if you don't give me something to call you."

Peter quickly scanned his brain for a moniker he'd used with Juno, one that the lady may have mentioned to Mick in passing but not have gone into too much detail. There was only one with the chance of fitting the bill. "Rex. My name is Rex."

Mick's eyes lit up with recognition, and Peter immediately regretted his decision to use a name that had been plastered all over Hyperion to a native of the area. But there didn't seem to be any panic in Mick's eyes. Just... worry.

"Listen," Mick said, more serious than he had been all night. "I don't wanna give you some shovel talk. I'm sure you already got that from Rita." Peter had, which was strange considering Juno swore up and down that he never mentioned their past relationship. "But I just want you to know that, when all that went down, and you left, you really broke his heart. So just- be careful this time, okay? You and I both know he's more delicate than he lets on, and I can tell from the way you look at him that you love him, so just don't mess it up. Please?"

There was a definite moment where Peter stopped breathing until he remembered Juno and he were posing as newlyweds. He then forced his well-practiced laugh and asked, "Am I that obvious?"

"Yeah, like the way you were glaring at Ms. Zolotovna? You looked like you wanted to kill her! Oh! But you don't have to worry about that. Juno looked like he was just as close to killing her as you were, and I don't think he's ever cheated in his life. Well, there was that one time, in second grade when he-"

Mercury went on rambling for a while. He and Rita would get along swimmingly. Not that Peter was paying attention. No, he was far too busy staring into space. Apparently, Mick thought he was jealous of Ms. Zolotovna. Which, of course, couldn't be farther from the truth. He'd just been bothered that Juno would allow himself to become so distracted, that was all... Mostly.

Looking at him with Zolotovna felt wrong. Of course, it felt wrong, Peter tried to convince himself. Once upon a time, he had been in love with Juno. Even if those feelings had since dissipated it still made his stomach churn to think of Juno with anyone else. Maybe that wasn't healthy. Peter was starting to think maybe Juno was right about them needing to talk. But now was not the time nor the place for a heart. Just another thing for him to file away.

Right, Mercury was talking to him. God, Peter really needed to swipe that map so they could get out of there. "Well, Mick. I can assure you, I'd sooner die than hurt Juno. Will that be all?"

Mick seemed to have been interrupted mid-sentence, but he was friends with Juno, so Peter assumed he was used to it. "Oh! No, Juno wanted me to go get you for your-" he dropped his voice to a stage whisper "-secret-ay mission-ay."

Peter's brain stopped for a solid second. "Was that- was that meant to be Pig Latin?"

"No," Mick said, winking dramatically.

Peter followed Mick, a tad bit shaken by the implication that Mick Mercury didn't know what Pig Latin was in the slightest until the pair eventually reached Juno.

"Took you long enough, what? Were you stuck in a flowerpot?" The lady asked when they'd reached him.

Peter laughed, not entirely sure who the question was directed at. "Mick tells me you have a plan?"

"Not a plan, an observation. There's a camera trained on the map, one which you won't have time to dismantle before the dance begins in-" Juno looked at the grand clock in the center of the room "-4 minutes."

Peter grimaced in thought before eventually coming up with a solution. "Mick, when I give you a signal, try to get caught. Juno and I'll give you a lift back to Mars."

Peter was expecting some resistance from Mick, but he just nodded enthusiastically, "Okay, Rex. Uhh... I'm not really used to all this spy stuff. What's the signal?"

Peter only thought for a moment before coming up with an answer, "I'll trip on my heels."

Juno laughed, "Babe, that's a shit idea. What if you actually trip?"

Peter pointedly ignored the feeling in his chest when Juno called him 'babe' and instead responded, "I don't trip, dear."

Juno blushed and began to argue before being interrupted as the dance began. Peter silently held his hand out for Juno to take, and the lady barely hesitated before taking it.

Once they were far enough from Mick, Juno began to snicker softly to himself.

"What?"

"Feeling nostalgic, Rex?"

Peter laughed along with him. "What? It's the only name I could imagine you bringing up. Granted, I didn't expect it to stick with Mercury, but uh... I'm-"

"Don't. At least you had a reason. I was just scared."

"Of what?"

"Later, Nureyev," Juno whispered.

As they walked onto the dance floor, Peter could almost laugh with delight. Zolotovna hadn't been tracking his companion this entire night. She'd been tracking him. Maybe that said something about his self-confidence, maybe it said something about his affection for Juno, or maybe all it said was he would not make a very good detective. Either way, there would be a slight change in their normal routine.

"Juno, I do believe you'll have to be the one to swipe the map, someone seems to be watching me."

'Ugh! She's still doing it? That's messed up. Like our cover is as a married couple, and she has no problem making goo-goo eyes at you!"

Peter laughed, "Madam Dauphine, are you jealous?"

Juno gave him a smirk, "Of course not, Monsieur Dauphine. I know you have better taste than that."

"I must've if I married you."

Juno gave him a smile. Not the snarky one Peter'd been expecting. A soft smile, one full of admiration. Peter remembered this smile, right after they'd stopped Miasma, and Juno miraculously survived, bleeding from one eye and looking at Peter as if he'd been the one locking himself in a room about to explode.

"What's with that look?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," Juno said. "I just forgot how fun it is to work with you when you aren't pretending to be someone else."

Peter grinned at Juno as they separated. Him going to distract Zolotovna, Juno going to swipe a billion-dollar artifact.

---

Their plan had gone off without a hitch, Zolotovna was rambling on with some love confession, or the other, and Peter was pretending to listen, watching in awe as Juno gracefully swiped their prize from behind his glasses. Peter had come up with some logical reason to reject Zolotovna, guessing she wouldn't be all too satisfied with the excuse of "I'm happily married," something about organized crime. He doesn't remember. Even managed to get a little over a billion creds from her.

He then made his way over to Juno. Planning on waiting a few minutes to escape into the crowd before signaling Mercury. And as he made his way to Juno, a golden goddess, a perfect image of beauty and grace, with his dark brown skin and curly hair and the scars scattered across his skin. Peter did the unthinkable. He tripped. Too distracted by the image in front of him to notice his misstep. That is until Mercury started taunting the guards.

Then he, Juno, and Mercury were running across the yard to where Jet was waiting with the car. At some point, Peter's arm had ended up around Juno's waist, likely when he nearly fell over trying to throw his heels off and grabbed onto Peter for stability. They finally reached the car, and Juno threw open the door, the three of them clamoring in at top speed.

"Hello, Ransom, Juno. Who's this?" Jet asked in the same deadpan tone, as always.

"We'll tell you later, now fucking drive!" Juno rushed, a little breathless.

"Alright, then. Buckle your seatbelts."

"Go!"

---

When they got back to the ship, Buddy spent approximately 30 minutes rotating between tearing Peter and Juno to shreds for their performance and greeting Mick and asking if he was staying for dinner. She did, however, agree to bring Mick back to Mars before making their way to their next mission.

Later, Peter and Buddy had a much kinder conversation. One that brought up an emotion that Peter had not felt in a very long time. Familial love. He would try not to think too much of it, but an undeniable comfort had begun to settle into Peter's stomach.

There was another knock on the door after she left, and he already knew who it was. Finally, after nearly a year, it was later.

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #tpp season 3 #tpp fic #tpp nureyev #peter nureyev #tpp juno #juno steel #junoverse #tpp mick #mick mercury #jupeter

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years ago

Text

Skin Pressed Against Me Tight

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Word Count: ~12K Notes: This is my porn star au fill for @starkerfestivals bingo. Idk how porn turned into Starker being parents, but it did - hope you enjoy! Warnings: NSFW stuff for sure, bottom Tony, non-linear narrative Summary:

Peter Parker is a young 18 y/o breaking into the porn industry. Things change for him when he shoots a scene with Tony Stark, illustrious size queen. This is the story of their relationship told in both perspectives.

Or, the one where Peter Parker has a huge cock and rocks Tony Starks world - romance absolutely ensues.

Read it on AO3 here

2019

Getting into porn at the ripe age of 18 was never Peter’s intention. May worked her ass off to try and put him through college, but a neonatal nurse didn’t make that much money. The last thing Peter wanted was for her to always be working – so he took funding into his own hands.

It started out as cater-waiter jobs – he pulled off a suit well enough to stand around and look nice while holding a tray of champagne, or if they were feeling frisky, appetizers. The money wasn’t the best, but it was something. After four months of doing that specifically, he picked up a job at a director’s home – the type of director he didn’t know until he walked in to see all the waiters in only small underwear and bowties. Not ashamed of what he worked so hard to get, Peter took to the uniform like it was meant for him – and maybe it was, his huge cock was highlighted all night.

When all was said and done, his favorite appendage and willingness to do pretty much whatever was asked of him made Peter one of the best porn actors to work with. He started out small – masturbation and cam services for a select few clients. The demand for that became too much to keep up with, so Clint, the director who drew him into the business to begin with, started to pair him up with people. Beautiful men, specifically. Peter hadn’t known about his sexuality until he felt a warm ass wrap around his cock – something told him that he’d found the key to his sexual heart.

When users started to comment on the size of his cock, Peter started to shoot with specific men within the industry – ones so gloriously known as size queens. In the back of his mind, Peter hoped for the chance to partner with Tony Stark; he’d been watching Man of Iron videos for most of his adolescence. Tony Stark could take a dick – and not for the first time, Peter wondered what it would be like for him to take his.

Surprisingly, it only took Peter mentioning the man’s name to make it happen. He hadn’t thought too much about his popularity, but when he told Ned about it later that night, his friend freaked out. “You’re one of the big studs now, Pete. Only well-known names get to work with Tony Stark.” Peter heard the dreaminess in his friend’s voice and laughed – in less than a week, he’d know exactly what it was like to work with the boisterous power bottom.

Walking onto the set the day of the shoot, Peter couldn’t keep his excitement from overflowing – he jerked off twice that morning to make sure his performance was top notch. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early. Despite being young and able to go forever, he wanted to cast an air of maturity. The silver fox he was going to top was one of the best in the business – that meant he’d been around for a while. If anyone knew good sex, it was Tony Stark.

The smile swept off his face for a second when he walked into the room of the suite they’d deemed the dressing room. Tony was standing there in small shorts and a black tank top – his arms were rippling, the sight making Peter’s mouth water. He almost missed the words coming out of Tony’s mouth – “He’s so young, Pep. This can’t possibly be a good idea.”

It should have stung a little, the words and the fact that Tony looked up with a gasp when he realized someone else was in the room. Coloring, Peter nodded in his direction and retreated quickly – he didn’t want Tony to see the smile on his face. There was a mission now – Peter felt bound and determined to prove the older star wrong. The tingle of arousal that kissed his skin was a little different than before and he reveled in it – pleasing Tony would be the best experience of both of their careers; he’d make sure of it.

Tony found him a few minutes before they were set to start the cheesy lead up to the frame by frame fucking that would inevitably happen. Peter reached down to adjust himself, his overeager cock getting hyped up at just the sound of Tony’s voice. Turning his head away for a second, Peter took a deep breath, his features schooled when he looked back.

“Peter, right?” Tony asked, his hand settling between them. Peter looked at him for what felt like a solid minute, his eyes roaming over Tony until he felt satisfied.

Reaching between them, Peter shook his hand. “Yeah, Peter Parker. While we’re shooting, Pete is fine.” He kept Tony’s hand in his own for a few seconds longer than socially appropriate, his fingers squeezing lightly.

As if the touch opened the floodgates, Tony smiled at him, his head shaking. “You fucking rookies and your requests. We’ll see what comes out in the moment. Kid for you, probably,” Peter didn’t miss the wink sent his way, his cock reacting to the word before his brain could process it.

“Sure, and I’ll be sure to moan daddy real loud,” Peter rebutted almost instantly. He shouldn’t feel as warm as he did – no one else he’d ever paired with made him crazy the way he felt in that moment. The sizzle in his veins seared a little more the longer they stayed next to each other. Tony moved a little closer, his natural musk adding to the intoxication.

“There’s an entire fan base out there that would go wild for something like that, Pete,” Tony said in response, his hands moving to grip Peter’s elbow. Shit like that was common practice – they would be butt naked in front of each other in a few minutes, it was nice when his scene partners at least tried to ease the tension a little. The fact that it was Tony fucking Stark made it 100 times better – his hands were soft and squeezed him so nicely.

Peter’s head was swimming by the time Clint was calling them all to the center of the room for his pre-shoot pep talk. It consisted of the word ‘fuck’ and little else, so Peter let his mind wander, the only grounding agent the now familiar hand still tucked into his arm, Tony’s fingers slip-sliding across his skin like he’d been doing it his entire existence.

The lead up to their scene consisted of Tony walking in on a naked Peter who was just starting to get himself worked up on the very big, very empty bed. He didn’t need to pretend to be extremely turned on by the older man that wanted to join him on the bed – his eyes stayed glued to Tony as he settled against the headboard next to him. He didn’t move to take his clothes off, but Peter could see his impressive erection pressing against the small, too-tight shorts they were making him wear.

Without any prodding, Peter continued to fist his own cock in one hand while the other moved to Tony’s lap, his fingers skating over the bulge he couldn’t wait to see. He kept the rhythm slow, his focus more on the delicate tongue that was tangling with his own – Tony’s lips captured his own when he started to fondle him. The twitch he felt under his hand had him reaching into Tony’s pants to touch the soft flesh of an already rigid erection.

“Fuck,” Peter mumbled, the word captured by a swift move of Tony’s lips. The angle was a little weird, but the smooth velvet under his palm was more than enough to help him forget the crick in his wrist. Peter continued to run his hand up and down Tony’s length, gathering up the precum at the tip to ease the slide until a hand was reaching down to stop him. Tony gave him a heated look and pulled away just enough to get his tank top off.

He felt insanely greedy when he pulled his hand away from his own cock and ran his fingers over Tony’s newly exposed flesh. For someone that was no longer considered ‘young’ in the industry, Tony’s stomach was taut and well-muscled – the fact that he worked to keep his physique very obvious. He embraced the daddy thing and had thick patches of chest hair, the look a direct contrast to Peter’s practically hairless torso.

All of the sudden, Tony was turning – Peter moved his hands to let him sit across his naked thighs, the fabric of the annoying little shorts soft enough to make the move pleasurable. Tony settled close enough to put his elbows over Peter’s shoulders and palm the back of his head. Their faces were already right near each other, the slight shift bringing them so close that Peter felt Tony’s breath trickle down his throat.

Palming firm ass cheeks, Peter gave Tony’s muscle a light tap – the slightest wiggle making him moan, his hips pressing up. Tony ground down against him, warm chocolate colored eyes staring into his own. Not able to stand the tease any longer, Peter surged forward and took Tony’s lips in a kiss. The fingers in his hair tightened, Tony using that leverage to pull Peter closer, the angle of their heads perfect for the passionate kiss.

Peter worked the shorts down Tony’s thighs as much as he could with his legs stretched out the way they were – his fingers were desperate to press into bare skin. Huffing, Peter grabbed the back of Tony’s thighs and flipped their positions, impatient hands pulling shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop. A groan left his mouth when he saw the expanse of Tony’s flesh in person. The pixilation of a computer screen would never do it justice.

Fingertips danced down his legs and across stiff arches, his thumb digging in ever so slightly. Tony drew his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to keep the noises in, but Peter wasn’t having that. He reached up and tugged that lip from Tony’s grasp. “I want to hear you,” Peter stated, his voice deeper than he’d ever heard it.

Tony’s eyes flashed, a moan slipping from his lips in answer. Peter grinned and continued his exploration, his hands running back up Tony’s legs, across his hips, up the trail of hair on his lower stomach, and between his pecs. He pulled at his right nipple first, his fingers moving until it was a tight bud before moving onto the left one. His fixation brought moans out of them both, Tony’s cock jumping against Peter’s abs – a small streak of arousal brandishing the skin there.

Peter took Tony’s lips in another hot kiss, his hips settling between the v of Tony’s thighs, their cocks lining up. He let his hips roll forward. After a few minutes of chasing Tony’s tongue, Peter was leaking precum and slowly losing control over himself. Pulling away with a nip to Tony’s lip, Peter settled his head in the crease of Tony’s neck. Peter pressed his lips to the shell of his ear, the position perfect to whisper to him. “Straddle my face. I want to eat you out while you blow me. Put those pretty lips to use.” He pulled away with a laugh, Tony’s hand hitting his shoulder.

The transition wasn’t fumbly like Peter’s prior experiences. Peter rolled off of Tony and settled in the big pile of pillows at the head of the bed. He put a couple under his head so that he’d have a better ability to reach his destination – then, Tony settled over him, his ass in Peter’s face. Using both hands, he pulled Tony’s cheeks apart and went to work on teasing the already loosened hole. The thought of Tony slipping his fingers into himself in the ‘dressing room’ earlier making his cock twitch.

That must have spurred Tony on, the next thing he knew, plump lips and a warm tongue were caressing the tip of his cock. It broke up the rhythm of his tongue, a loud groan slipping from his chest. “Your dick is huge,” Tony murmured – for once, words that would probably be kept in the footage at the end. Thrusting up, Peter answered with his hips, Tony’s lips slipping further down his length as he did.

He tried his best to get lost in the salty taste on his tongue – Tony’s fluttering hole around him was rather nice. Tony’s lips, however, knew exactly what to do to pull him right to the edge. Peter felt like he could’ve leapt off the cliff of orgasm a few times, but Tony always pulled back at the last minute. Peter retaliated with a particularly deep thrusts of his tongue into Tony’s hole and the entire loop started over again.

Finally unable to take it any longer, Peter pulled away from his task, his chin and cheeks covered in his own spit – he could already picture the camera panning in on his face. Peter huffed out a breath and moved his hips away from the delicious suction. “You’ve gotta stop or I’m going to cum,” Peter admitted, two fingers pressing into Tony’s hole in hopes of a distraction for them both.

Sooner than Peter expected, Tony was on all fours in front of him, his hand reaching back to grasp onto his thigh. He seemed to be egging Peter on, the slightest bit of desperation he portrayed enough for him to quickly lube up his cock and line up against Tony’s entrance. The barely heard “fuck me, Pete” had him pushing in and breaching the tightest heat. Peter bit down into the side of his cheek to stop himself from coming.

Gripping Tony’s hips, Peter set a teasing pace, his hips pulling back slowly only to push forward hard, his fingers digging into supple skin. Tony pushed back against him, his hand still gripping Peter’s thigh tightly. The wild abandon that Tony took his cock with was too much – he wanted to wrap his arms around his middle and fuck him with abandon into the mattress. The more time past, however, the more Peter understood that Tony deserved to be thoroughly taken apart.

When he eventually picked up his pace, Peter leaned forward and started to work his lips and tongue over the back of Tony’s neck – the task just enough to keep him from finishing before he should. His hands gripped around the solid trunk below him, Peter using the momentum to bring Tony back against him harder with each thrust. The imperceptible heat building up in the middle of his stomach made him groan, his control almost completely gone.

Tony was right there with him, though – he reached behind him and grabbed Peter’s head, pulling him down. “I’m close, pull out and flip me over. I want you to cum on my chest,” Tony chocked out the words, Peter’s hips still moving. Quick to comply, Peter eased himself out and worked to turn Tony over – he barely thrust back inside before Tony was coming. Peter watched every splash of cum hit the older man’s chest before pulling out, tugging his cock once, and adding to the mess.

Unlike all of his other scenes before, Peter wanted to lean forward and press his lips against Tony’s again – arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him close made it seem like he might like that, too. Peter let his lips get carried away, a loud throat clearing the only thing pulling him back from the delightful task of kissing the life out of the man below him. “Alright, alright,” Clint said after Peter didn’t stop – the annoyance in his voice apparent.

After all was said and done, Peter was surprised by Tony approaching him. He was fully dressed and just about to leave for the day when he felt a hand on his elbow. “I know you walked in on me bitching about you to my manager,” Tony started, both of his hands sliding into his back pockets, the stance making his chest poke out a little. “I’m an asshole, I’ll admit that. You, uh – we’re much better than I expected.”

Peter watched him drag his bottom lip between his teeth and ached to reach across the space and use his thumb to soothe the redness that welled there. He shifted his position instead, his hands hanging loosely on the top of his thighs. “It’s okay – really. It served as good motivation.” Peter shot him a wink; his lips pulled into an eager smirk. Would it be pathetic to ask for his porn idol’s number?

That question was answered almost right after he thought it, Tony pressed a business card to his chest, his fingers staying there for an extra moment. “I’ll have Pep set up another scene. In the meantime – my personal is on there. If you’re interested in a repeat performance not in front of the cameras.”

Blinking, Peter gripped the card and nodded – there was no way in hell he was going to pass up and offer like that. He made sure to slip it into his pocket before shouldering his bag and walking out.

That went a lot better than he ever could have expected.

----

2025

The best part of his life with Peter was the never-ending adventure. At the age of 24, his husband was quickly excelling through the college program at MIT they were easily able to afford. Going to the fiscal services office each semester and paying with a thick stack of cash always felt more satisfactory than it probably should. The beaming smile on Peter’s face drove home the greatness of it – being able to provide something like that for his husband made all the work he’d done in his life worth it.

Things were slowly starting to change for them – though they still did scenes together, Tony and Peter both were trying to step away from the industry. Tony knew the daddy thing was only cute for a little while – his age was starting to become a thing that he couldn’t just look past. If it weren’t for the draw that he and Peter pulled as a tag team, he probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as he did. Settling down took some of the fun out of the job, anyway – not so suddenly, he didn’t want to share his body with just anyone.

Luckily, Tony spent enough time at Arizona State to get a degree before he delved into the world of porn. There weren’t too many people that recognized him, or were willing to admit it, at least – so stepping into the job world wasn’t nearly as hard as he thought it might be. What he always imagined being his fallback became something he could actually be proud of. Financial advising wasn’t the glitz and glam of full-time porn star – but it paid the pills and kept him out of the arms of too many random people.

It was Peter who made the suggestion to step away, first – which surprised the heck out of him. Despite getting married at such a young age, Peter was right at the peak of his career – if he wanted it, he could’ve taken the top billings for years to come. The man was absolutely gorgeous and would combat age with a grace that not a lot of people got to claim. And no matter how much he didn’t want Peter to be constantly fucking other men, it was part of the game – he loved the man enough to support him through it all.

Learning that Peter was just as weird about fucking other people made his heart warm – in all the time they’d been together, his husband never stopped surprising him. Of course, they were both so balls deep in the business that it took a while to slim down their scheduling and almost exclusively work with each other. Pepper wasn’t very happy about anything he did with Peter over the years, but she was surprisingly supportive when Tony spoke to her about their plan. He figured that after six years, maybe she was finally warming up to Tony’s other half.

In the two years of their marriage, Tony found himself finally understanding what Rhodey was always talking about when he spoke of his love for Natasha and the relationship they spent many years creating. Learning and living with another human being wasn’t something Tony every thought he’d be into. He looked at his friends and shook his head.

Then – he met Peter. Life was a lot more fun because of the younger man’s influence. While still a dramatic size queen, Tony let himself open up and start enjoying the little things in life – things like the same man’s arm slung across his stomach in the mornings and the enjoyable bickering about who was going to do the dishes. He spent a lot of time worrying about money and how people looked at him – Peter took that need away and kept reality within his grasp.

And while Tony got to fulfill the daddy fantasy with his husband whenever the man had the inkling, he was grateful that’s where the boat would soon be stopping. In all honesty, Tony yearned to be an actual dad – he’d been getting more and more jealous of the small children that ran around Rhodey and Natasha’s place. Peter was so good with kids and would make the ultimate father – Tony was sure of it.

Those were dangerous thoughts, however – he hadn’t brought up the topic with Peter; he didn’t know how.

Tony pushed them away and focused on the sauce he was stirring on the stove. Before she passed, his mom taught him all the family recipes. Over the years, Tony perfected a few of them and always fell back on Maria’s sauce when he needed something to clear his mind. It took a long time to make and needed almost regimented attention.

It was soothing, in a way – to let his mind get lost in the swirl of the increasingly thickening tomato paste on the stove. Tony felt more capable of tabling things that were unnecessary and focusing on the ones that were. Such as the front door opening and Peter walking through it.

Perking up a little, Tony grinned at his husband when he walked into the kitchen. He saw the look of hunger pass over Peter’s face, Tony aware that the sauce was only half the reason for it. In 6 years of being together and having frequent sex, Tony and Peter never got tired of each other. He felt wanted every second of being in Peter’s presence – they’d perfected physical connection so much that it seemed to make the craving more intense.

Peter wrapped his hands around Tony’s hips, his face settling into the side of his neck. Tony always liked the way he would drag in a deep breath and hold it – the huff of it warm air on his neck when Peter finally let it go making him shiver every time. He liked the idea of sitting deep within Peter’s chest, caught in the capillary beds, and transported through the systemic circulation until he was breathed back out into the open air.

Flat palms caressed his thighs, Peter using them to pull him back until they were flush against each other. “Hey, sweetheart,” Peter mumbled, his lips on Tony’s ear. In the early days, Peter took to whispering to him like that to keep the words he couldn’t hold at bay as between them as he could. It kind of became a thing after that – Tony liked the tingle it always sent down his spine, the intimacy of it a beautiful perk of being with someone so affectionate.

“Hey, yourself. How were classes?” Tony hummed and tilted his head; the nuzzling Peter was doing needed to continue.

He felt Peter take the space given to him, his wandering nose and lips mapping out a well-known path across his neck. “Good – I think I finally found a lab worth interning in. My biophysics professor is starting some new research up at the end of the semester that I would love to dive headfirst into.” Peter spoke with such clarity despite the teasing way he treated Tony’s sensitive skin.

Sighing, Tony leaned forward and turned the heat down – the sauce was at a point where he could let it sit for a while. He gave it one last stir, then turned in Peter’s arms, his own wrapping around wide shoulders. “Happy to hear it – I know you’ve been stressing over that for the past couple of months. Did you get your differential equations exam back?” He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s nose – the gesture pulling the softest smile from his husband’s lips.

“I did – I got a 98. The points I lost were a little petty, but I’m not upset about an A. I appreciate all the help, by the way; I don’t think I ever thanked you properly,” Peter wiggled his eyebrows and drew him into a deep kiss, the caress of his tongue almost enough to sweep Tony’s feet out from under him. Damn Peter and his endless charm.

He let himself get lost in the drag of the facial hair Peter was starting to grow – it tickled his lips and he wondered if that’s how it was for Peter this whole time. It was sexy and if Tony got his way, Peter would be keeping the nicely developing beard.

The need for oxygen forced them apart. Not wanting to separate too much, Tony traced the flush that spread across Peter’s cheek with the edge of his thumb. His nose rubbed along Peter’s before he snuck in for another soft kiss. He felt a rush of happiness when Peter’s hands moved to grip him tighter. “I’m sure you’ll find many ways to thank me over the course of the semester, Pete. That class is only going to get harder.”

Hands slapping his ass pulled a solid laugh out of him – Tony jumped from the contact, his fingers gripping Peter’s cheeks for support. “You’re a little shit.” He slipped his tongue out to wet his bottom lip. A satisfying feeling rushed over him then; Peter’s eyes followed his every movement. “Proud of you, though. Want to celebrate with Mama’s pasta?”

Peter’s eyes widened, a huge smile overtaking his face. “You’re making Maria’s sauce? I’m 100% game for that. I hope you made that baked chicken, too,” Peter replied eagerly. Tony moved out of his grip and pulled a hot pad onto his hand. The smell of lemon and parmesan flooded the kitchen, both of them making a satisfied little noise. “Smells amazing, Tones.”

Tony nodded his agreement, a content smile on his face. “It does – go get changed and I’ll pull everything out so we can eat.” He gave Peter a soft pat on his cheek, his husband rolling his eyes and grinning in return.

“Do I have time to shower, too? Or should I wait for you?” Peter stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, his arms wide and holding him there. Tony let himself look him over, Peter’s biceps were pulled deliciously tight by the posture he stood with. It really was too much sometimes, being married to such a good looking human.

Settling against the stove once more, Tony picked up the wooden spoon, his brain forcing him to look anywhere but in front of him – if he did, they’d never eat the food he spent a good bit of time making. “Waiting sounds nice. I’ll clean you up after we eat. You’re messy as hell, anyway.” Tony threw a wink over his shoulder and laughed when Peter made a disbelieving noise before turning and starting his trek up the stairs.

In obvious retaliation, Peter walked down the stairs in plain black shorts and a tight tank top, the roundness of his deltoids sinful and mouth-watering. He walked past Tony to the cabinet housing the plates, not even bothering to look at him, and went about setting the table. Shaking his head, Tony couldn’t stop the affectionate laugh that dripped from his lips. Even after all this time, Peter’s puppy act still made his heart race.

It was easy to get dinner on the table after that – Tony carried all the food in with an eager Peter trailing behind him with glasses of water. His husband never got to meet the illustrious Maria, but he understood her talents in the kitchen and went a little nuts whenever Tony brought her food to the table.

Peter was also smart enough to know that Tony only ever cooked comfort foods because something was up – though, he waited until they were into dinner a bit before bringing anything up. Tony knew it was coming when Peter complimented the chicken for the 20th time. Putting his fork down, Tony looked at him pointedly.

Without missing a beat, Peter did the same, his attention now fully on Tony instead of the food before him. “So – what’s up? We avoid your lineage like it doesn’t exist most of the time – you don’t cook this specific thing unless you’ve got something on your mind.” Peter reached across the table and grasped one of Tony’s hands in his. “Everything okay?”

Softening, Tony gave Peter’s hand a soft squeeze. “It’s fucking eerie, how well you know me,” Tony started, his other hand joining the masses on the table. “I’ve just been thinking about our last scene coming up and what comes next. Got a little lost up there.” He shrugged his shoulders, Tony hoping that his anxiety was not overtly apparent.

“I’ve been reading you since the first day we met, Tones – hard to miss all the obvious tells.” His eyes moved over the food on the table, a light smile on his face. “Delicious tells, though – I hope you know that.”

Tony barked out a laugh, his feet pulling his chair a little closer to Peter’s so he could reach over and grab his husband’s face in his hands. “I know, baby. Thank you.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips, then settled into his chair again.

Peter looked at him with wide eyes for a few seconds before he caught back up to where they were. He narrowed them then, “you’re trying to distract me.” Picking up his fork, Peter went about poking at the pasta – “What I was trying to say, before you so rudely interrupted, was that whatever we want comes next. I’ll be done with school at the end of the year, you’re in a job you like – it seems like the only place to go is up.”

Tilting his head, Tony let the words sink in – Peter stating it so simply made all the worrying he’d been doing seem a little silly. “There’s something specifically I want to bring up – but I’m a lot terrified. I – “ he shifted on his seat a little, the move just long enough to give him a second to muster up the courage to actually get the words out. “I think I want to have kids, Pete. I want to be a dad and I want to watch you be one, too. I know you’re young and we’ve never talked about it, but – its been stuck in my head on a loop for longer than I care to admit.”

He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths once the words were out, his eyes not meeting Peter’s until he felt like he wasn’t going to hyperventilate. The happy look he was met with was not what he’d been expecting – Peter’s beaming smile made his eyebrows furrow, an excited smile waiting on standby.

“Tones – you should have said something. Ever since Nat brought baby Sue home, I’ve been dying to know what it’d be like.” He didn’t say anything further, just got up from his chair and reached a hand out, Tony taking it to join him. They tangled up in a tight hug, Tony pulling Peter as flush against him as he could.

Later that night, they collapsed sweaty to the mattress, Tony spooning behind Peter without worrying about the grossness that was covering them both. He pressed a soft kiss to Peter’s neck, a sigh falling from his lips. “You make me so fucking happy.”

Peter tugged his arm to pull him closer, the silent hum of appreciation the only needed reply.

----

2020

After that first scene together, Tony and Peter’s partnership blew up. Just like Tony figured, the daddy aspect of it pulled in a huge crowd that demanded more. Which wasn’t any skin off of his back – Peter genuinely liked Tony as a person and enjoyed the physical connection between them even more.

With the business card in hand, Peter dialed Tony’s personal number a couple of days after they left set. He sat in the same position two nights in a row, contemplating what was too soon and how much excitement would look like desperation. His resolve was quickly melting down to nothing, so he finally let his fingers move over the screen to enter the number. Three rings later, Tony picked up – the timber of his “hello” more than enough to make the anxious energy he was feeling worth it.

“Hey Tony – it’s Peter. Peter Parker.” He wanted to slap himself, words coming out of his mouth had never felt more awkward. It couldn’t be helped, his heart leapt up into his throat whenever he thought about Tony. Of course, it made sense that he’d become a babbling idiot the second he had the guy’s attention.

The chuckle on the other end of the line settled low in his stomach, for the first few seconds, he couldn’t tell if it was arousal or shame. It ended up bringing a smile to his face, though, so he tried to relax – things hadn’t gone to shit yet, he could do this.

“Peter Parker – I was starting to wonder if I was going to hear from you.” Tony’s voice sounded genuine across the line and helped to further relax him. There was something about the older man that made Peter feel comfortable – he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but he knew he wasn’t about to let it go wandering out of his life if he could help it.

“I didn’t want to seem too eager. Even though I am.” He heard Tony laugh again, the sound kicking up his heart rate a couple of notches. “Is your offer still on the table? Meeting up off-screen, I mean,” Peter said, his voice cracking as he backtracked quickly, his cock already twenty steps ahead of him. He wanted to see Tony outside of the bedroom, too – more than anything, Peter wanted to make that clear.

Tony didn’t miss a beat – “For you, Peter Parker, I think that offer will always be on the table.” Tony spoke matter-of-factly, the tenor of his voice never waving.

“Really?” Peter found himself saying, a sharp blush rushing across his cheeks when he realized what he actually said. “This trying to be smooth thing is not working.” He stopped and let a laugh fall from his lips – if he didn’t find humor in it, he might die of embarrassment.

“I want to take you out to dinner. Then see if anything happens.” Peter reached up and smacked his hand across his forehead, each new sentence slipping from his mouth lamer than the last.

Regardless of how Peter felt, the babbling ended up being the thing to seal the deal. It wasn’t hard to believe that Tony didn’t usually date other people in the business – mixing love and scripted sex was usually more work and heartache than most people could deal with; but Peter felt pretty determined. He’d been around the business long enough to know that the connection he felt with Tony was unlike any other – Peter was too smart of a person to pass something like that up.

As the number of jobs they booked together started to go up, so did their interest in each other. It wasn’t strictly Peter, either – Tony was a lot more open and available than Peter initially thought he’d be. Their first date turned into incredible sex on Tony’s living room floor and the promise of another date the next day. Seeing each other every couple of nights quickly turned into staying over at the other person’s house and slowly slipping into the joys of domesticity.

The most surprising aspect of their relationship was the way Tony handled Peter doing scenes with other people. Walking into the relationship with open eyes was something, but actually dealing with it was an entirely different beast. Tony was at the point in his career where he could be choosy – Peter wasn’t. For the first few months of the thing they settled into, Peter needed to take everything thrown his way. Despite putting off college for a little while, Peter still wanted to make the time he worked count.

Coming home after a particularly unsatisfying scene, Peter immediately stepped into the shower. He didn’t see Tony in the direct path to the bathroom and didn’t bother to look any further – Peter still wasn’t all that comfortable smelling like someone else when he pulled Tony into his arms. They hadn’t been together all that long, but it already felt like he was taking something away from them every time he went in front of the cameras.

Peter ducked under the water, his body working on autopilot. The water beat down on the top of his head, the warmth so nice on his skin that felt taut and drawn for the past couple of hours. He was distracted enough to not hear the door open – a grunt fell out of his mouth when arms wrapped around his waist. When his heartrate settled, Peter gripped Tony’s arms, his fingers desperately tight.

“Let me finish up in here, Tones – I thought maybe we could have Chinese.” Peter said the words, but each one of them lost a bit of meaning as Tony’s touch took him apart. In that moment, the last thing he wanted to do was let Tony go anywhere – the guilt of someone else’s hands on him felt washed away, Tony’s touch on him the magic eraser he needed to forget.

“It’ll go a little quicker if I help. I have something a little more fun in mind when we’re done,” Tony mumbled, his lips on the wet skin of Peter’s neck. Methodically, Tony nibbled, licked, and kissed him while his hands moved a loofa with body wash all over his skin. By the time Tony was fisting his erection and pressing his own against Peter’s thigh, the only thing he could smell was the stress relief body wash and Tony’s arousal. Grinning at the dirty trick, Peter turned in Tony’s arms, his nimble fingers quick to turn the shower off.

Between drying off and trying to make out with each other, it took them a long time to get from the bathroom to the bedroom. Despite coming back from two hours’ worth of well-staged sex, Peter’s cock was as hard as a rock. Falling between Tony’s thighs on the bed was the best feeling he’d been privy to all day.

“Thought I could ride you,” Tony managed to get out between all of their kisses and gropes. He grabbed Peter’s face with both hands. “Gotta remind you who you belong to.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows and gripped his arms tightly, effectively rolling them over. Peter settled against the mattress, his eyes bulging a little when Tony’s mouth immediately went to his cock.

Like they’d been doing this for a while (which they had), Tony knew all of the right places to lick and suck. Tony could take him all the way to the root, a feat that even some of the more seasoned people he did scenes with could not achieve. The move had him thrusting up, his hips moving on their own accord. Tony used his free hands to press down on Peter’s hips, effectively cutting off anymore thrusts into the already full throat clenching around him.

Peter let his hands tangle in the length of Tony’s hair, his grip just barely guiding his head up and down. Tony moaned around him, his eyes looking up, catching Peter’s glance. “You were made for this,” Peter babbled, words coming out of his mouth now that he could say whatever the fuck he wanted – cameras be damned. Eventually, he tightened his grip in Tony’s hair, his head tossed back. “Stop, stop. I want to cum inside you.”

One of the best parts of sex on their own time was the way he got to prep Tony – when they shot a scene, little details like making a partner feel good weren’t ever included. Pros like Tony took that sort of thing into their own hands. Yet, Peter appreciated the process – Tony stretched out so nicely around his fingers as he breached him first with one finger, then another. The look in Tony’s eye blew him away every time – it was like he’d never been touched so reverently in his life.

Impatience set in while Peter worked a third finger inside of Tony’s tight heat. He could feel how relax he was, the touch now purely for pleasure. Hitting Tony’s prostate lit him up, his skin breaking out into a sweat, Peter’s name falling from his lips like a mantra. The compiling stimuli were too much, he needed friction and he needed it right that second.

Tony must have felt the same way, his lube-coated hand wrapped around Peter’s cock as he shifted his position. Sitting back, Tony let out a sharp gasp, Peter’s wide head always the toughest stretch. Peter gripped his hips to help as much as he could, his fingers digging into the flesh the closer he got to bottoming out. The second Tony shifted and got up onto his feet, Peter started to thrust, no time for adjustment needed or given.

The bed squeaked with the force of their movements. Peter pushing through the bottoms of his feet to thrust up, Tony rolling his hips and meeting him with a sharp downward stroke. Slap of bodies and echoes of moans were the only thing that could be heard in the room for a while – the animalistic way Peter let himself get lost a little different than their normal coupling.

When Peter flipped them over and hiked Tony’s legs over his shoulder, the older man looked up at him with such devotion. It didn’t matter that he had some random person below him in this same position only a few hours earlier – Tony was the only person he could imagine being there for the rest of his life. Looking down, he appreciated the recognizable body and the amazing personality attached to it.

“I’m gonna cum, Tony,” Peter babbled against his cheek, his upper body falling onto Tony’s chest a few thrust earlier. The fact that he staved off as long as he did was achievement enough. Tony nodding at him and gripping his own erection pushed him over, Peter emptying himself deep within the tight confines of Tony’s tight hole. The splash of cum against his stomach drew a moan from him, the rhythmic clenching that went with Tony’s orgasm bringing another set of body shakes quaking through his muscles. Not able to hold himself up any longer, Peter shifted his weight and dropped half on the mattress and half on the man below him.

“I hope that was the fun you had in mind – because I’m exhausted and don’t think I could lift my arms again,” Peter muttered against Tony’s shoulder. Resting his head there, Peter felt Tony’s laughter spread through him, the clenching of his stomach bouncing him a little. A soft grin slipped across Peter’s cheeks, the niceness of his reality a beautiful thing to be able to cling to.

Tony turned a little, his lips pressing a kiss to the side of Peter’s head. “I thought we could catch up on Penny Dreadful, but we can do that from the comfort of this bed, so no arm movements needed.” Shifting, Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders keeping him pressed tightly against his side. “I wouldn’t mind that Chinese you mentioned, either.”

His words were the last ones spoken for a while – Peter drifted into a light sleep, the high of his body keeping him right in that glorious in between stage. Tony’s chest rose and fell like he too was asleep, the exertion of the amount of passion they shared between them knocking them off their feet every time they came together. The tranquility of it felt like nothing Peter ever experienced before – the thought of being in love alive and prominent in the front of his brain.

A little while later, Tony woke him up with a warm flannel on his skin and an affectionate look. “Thought you might not want to be crusty for the rest of the night. Go back to sleep if you’re still zonked,” Tony said softly, his hands gentle in the way he caressed Peter’s skin. Closing his eyes for another second, Peter soaked up the moment. When Tony tried to pull away, he threw his arms around Tony’s neck and pulled him down, the older man bending in half.

“You take such good care of me,” Peter admitted, his lips finding Tony’s for a chaste kiss. “You’re kind of the best.”

Ducking his head, Tony tried to shake the words off, Peter now familiar with the gesture. He let him pull away, Peter dropping his hands until they were once again on the mattress beside him. His lips quirked into a reassuring look – “I love you, Tony. I really do think you’re the best.”

The sudden impact of Tony’s body against his own tore a breath out of him, his arms automatically welcoming the other into his space. “You’re not supposed to say shit like that. You’re making me too sappy.” Tony moved until he was sitting between Peter’s legs, his smile scrunching up the corners of his eyes. “I love you too, Pete. So much.”

From that point on, Peter was a little more choosey about who he signed on to do scenes with and when he could swing it, he worked exclusively with Tony. Their videos made enough of a splash that not a lot of people even thought twice about the fact that they worked together so often. Of course, there were the weird shippers that caught small moments between them and made them into something that he and Tony both didn’t want them to think was the case. His relationship with Tony was his own – they were both determined to protect that with everything that they could.

----

2026

Starting the process of adoption was a lot more time consuming than either of them thought. There were countless documents that needed to be filled out, letters of recommendation to be written, and never-ending interviews to be had – it seemed like more work to get a baby than to get a government job or a visa to travel to another country. After being told that most of their life would be scrutinized, Tony tucked his tail between his legs and stepped back from the situation.

Everything was done as thoroughly as they could do it – the rest of the process landed on someone else’s shoulders. Of course, it wasn’t the greatest, to be sitting around waiting to hear back from people that were picking apart both their lives with a fine-toothed comb – but they got past it. Tony spent the time working his ass off and preparing for his final scene in the porn industry.

When Clint found out he was leaving the business, he begged until Tony let him direct his final scene – he and Peter both made the man more money during their careers than he’d ever be worth. He decided to do something reminiscent of the first ever scene he shot with the two of them together – down to the stupid outfit he rolled his eyes at. The only real difference was the way he felt about the man standing in the mirror next to him.

The space where apprehension and nervousness sat was now replaced with affection and confidence. Not just in Peter’s sexual prowess, either – he got the distinct pleasure of getting to watch Peter mature and grow. His professional persona was so different than the one he walked into the industry with. It made his heart ache a little, just how much of Peter he’d gotten to experience over the years.

Under the pretense of catching up, Tony saddled up to Peter’s side, an arm wrapping around his waist. “Ready for this?” Tony asked quietly. His body was prepped, and his mind was in the zone, but his heart was sitting in the palm of Peter’s hand. It’d been a while since they worked for the cameras – he wondered if the happiness and excitement that seemed to radiate off them both would be apparent.

“Yup – I’m more than ready. The fact that the rest of the world will no longer have direct access to your ass makes me terribly giddy inside,” Peter replied with a bit of cheek, his body leaning into the contact Tony couldn’t help but provide. “I’m not mad about the set-up of this scene, though – I’m already hard just thinking about how much like our first time this is.”

Without thinking, Peter pressed a kiss to his forehead, the words “I love you” rolling off his tongue so fucking easily.

Much like that first time, Peter started him on his knees, his hands enthusiastically pulling him back against his cock with a tight grip around his chest. Tony bit into his bottom lip to stop himself from groaning out how good Peter was making him feel, how much he loved the man making him feel that way. He slid his hand down his own chest to take his cock in hand just to stay distracted.

Peter wrapped him up more tightly and started to really thrust into him, his lips pressing against the shell of Tony’s ear. “I love you. And fuck, I love fucking you,” Peter whispered. The words pulled a long moan from Tony’s chest, his stomach tightening. The sneaky little shit knew all the right places to hit, Tony’s heart strings included.

Reaching up, he thrust his fingers into Peter’s hair, pulling his head closer. “I love you. Now flip me over and cum all over me,”

There wasn’t any further prompting needed. Peter did exactly what he asked, his hands desperately gripping Tony’s hips to keep them as close as possible. Tossing his head back, Tony didn’t notice the way Peter’s eyes bugged out, the younger man focused on the tattoo that was normally covered up.

Hard clenching hands had him looking up, Peter’s eyes trailing to the now fully uncovered ‘Property of Peter Parker Stark’ he got on his side the day they got married – the ‘EST. 2023’ seemed to stand out the most in the seconds between his arms coming up and Peter covering him with his upper body.

The news of their marriage was out before Tony could even call Pepper to tell her what happened. Clint showed him the footage as he cleaned Peter’s cum from his stomach, the last five minutes of camera work catching the words at every angle. They could always reshoot, but the news would be out, regardless. Tony watched two of the crew members take a picture of the playback screen.

Not wanting to deal with it, Tony got dressed as quickly as he could, collected his check, and disappeared into his Audi. For once, he wished that they drove in together – since the news would be out anyway. Getting a little comfort from his husband wouldn’t have been the worst thing. Tony forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths – he needed to get the fuck out of there and the only way to do that was to drive away as fast as he could. The tingling feeling in his fingers retreated, so he got the car started and out of the lot before the next round of freak-outs could happen.

Having Peter’s arms around him when Pepper sent them the first article published about their marriage sort of softened the blow. Not only did it go into explicit detail about their career in porn, which hadn’t been publicized because of the cultural taboo, there were a few pretty accurate accounts of bits and pieces of their relationship over the years. It seemed like they weren’t nearly as inconspicuous as they thought. “I could have sworn we were way better at not being completely obvious,” Tony mumbled as he buried his face in Peter’s neck.

For the first couple of days, Tony kept his phone turned off. Texts came in from all directions, some angry and some congratulatory. The mass of them was just way too overwhelming. He also didn’t want to deal with the fact that the adoption agency probably didn’t want anything to do with either of them. Tony wasn’t embarrassed by his career – he’d been doing it for over 20 years. The idea of his private life being shown to the entire world to see – that’s really where he felt the most grief.

When he couldn’t avoid working any longer, Tony returned to his office – he’d been apprehensive about going back, but the great husband he had wasn’t willing to let him give up on things. The sharp outfit Peter had waiting for him when he got out of the shower gave him just enough confidence to get out the door and walk in to work with his head held high.

Surprisingly, no one said a word to him. He felt eyes following him every now and again – that was to be expected. Yet, all of the people around him treated him exactly like they usually did. It confused him, how little it seemed to impact the professional part of his life.

The personal side was a whole different matter, however. After Tony turned his phone back on, he found several missed calls from the adoption agency. He hunkered against Peter and listened to the one definitive voicemail that said their case was now pending. They’d been in limbo for months now and the thought of taking any steps back made his heart hurt. In all reality, Tony could probably put money down on the fact that at least one person in that office that determined the goodness of a person had watched his videos.

It didn’t do him any good to think that way, though – he didn’t have any control over what happened from that point on.

Falling into a bit of a slump, Tony got himself too and from work, spent time with Peter, and even went to the gym like normal. He did his best to keep himself in the game, but it was getting harder by the day. In his worst moments, he wondered about the other people that actually got to take kids home – were their pasts squeaky clean, or did they just manage to keep it from getting splashed across the headlines?

A couple months after all the drama, Peter dropped an invitation in front of him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “Annual Smutty Awards are coming up – we never get to go together, I thought maybe you might want to this year.” His voice was careful, Peter trying his absolute best to be supportive of him through all of the weird emotional ups and downs he experienced since bearing his heart (in the form of a tattoo) for all the world to see.

Tony didn’t need to look at the contents of the envelope to know that he would say yes. Now that they could be open about their relationship, it seemed like the perfect time to stroll up to the biggest night in the porn industry with the hottest man in the business on his arm. “I like the way you think, Pete,” Tony finally replied, a soft grin slipping across his lips. “I’ll call Nat and have her make us a couple of suits.”

The day rolled around a lot quicker than Tony anticipated. It’d been fun to go through the process of getting gussied up, including the suit fitting that Nat did in her usual no nonsense way. What she ended up creating for the evening was way beyond either of their expectations, the blue hues she put them in went well with Peter’s bright white skin and the dark hair that covered Tony’s head and chin. They offset each other and looked great standing side by side. After getting them dressed, she kissed both their cheeks. “You are two of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. Absolutely unfair.”

Smacking both their asses as they walked out of the room, Nat waved nonchalantly when Tony looked over his shoulder. He shook his head and slipped his hand into Peter’s, the new white gold band they started wearing pressing against his fingers. “She’s right, you know,” Tony said softly, his chin resting on Peter’s shoulder as they slowly made their way down the hall from their room to the front of the house where the limo was waiting. “You are – the most handsome man.”

Peter didn’t say anything until they were tucked into the limo, the two of them sharing the bench seat along the back. “No, that’s absolutely you. I’ve gotten so much hate over the past few months – the world is traumatized by the fact that their favorite silver fox is a happily married man,” Peter whispered, the words still coming out like shouts despite the low volume.

“The world is fucking crazy, isn’t it?” Tony shrugged his shoulders and wrapped his arms around Peter, pulling him closer – “I’m just glad that at the end of the day, you’re still there to come home to.” Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Peter’s, the touch barely there. “Glad for you, Pete.”

They didn’t talk for the rest of the ride – Tony happily allowing himself to be preoccupied with Peter’s lips and hands that ran up and down his sensitive thighs. By the time they got there, Tony was red faced, his hair mused and sticking out at weird angles. Peter shook his head at him and ran his fingers through it, the movement making it much worse. Despite that, Tony leaned in for one more kiss. “Might as well show them what the Parker Starks are really like.”

The walk down the pink carpet was much easier with Peter by his side – the paparazzi wasn’t interested in too many of them individually, so he got to keep an arm around his husband’s waist the entire length of it. When they were stopped for interviews, Peter didn’t step away from him, he merely gripped Tony tighter.

“It’s the Parker Starks!” Big Red, a well-known tv show host, exclaimed when they approached her. Tony let himself smile, the sound of their names together like that still enough to send his heart into overdrive.

“Yup, I guess the cat really is out of the bag,” Tony remarked, his fingers gripping Peter’s hip hard. He felt an answering squeeze on his shoulder, Peter’s silent support more than appreciated.

“It absolutely is. The world wants to know – why all the secrecy? 6 years is a long time.” She looked between them, the big painted on smile never leaving her face.

“It wasn’t secrecy – it was discretion. I was trying to grow up and juggle and industry that wanted to exploit my youth; keeping our private life private was a priority for us both,” Peter answered, his voice definitive; if they were anywhere else, Tony would’ve thought seriously about finding a quiet place and jumping his bones. He looked at him dreamily instead.

Their gazes met, Tony’s cheeks coloring with the rush of affection that pulsed through him. A loud ‘awe’ brought his attention back to the very live recording that was happening. “It’s obvious that you two are very much in love.” Big Red’s voice was saccharine sweet, the red lipstick getting more and more overwhelming by the second. Luckily, their time was up, the two of them escaping with quick hugs all around and drastic sighs of relief.

Right before walking into the theater, Tony’s phone started to ring – the number that popped up shocking them both. Looking over at Peter for a bit of courage, Tony swiped his finger across the front of the screen and accepted the adoption agency’s call.

“This is Tony Parker Stark – “

----

2023

Peter decided he wanted to marry Tony on a whim. They were celebrating their 4th year anniversary across the country – Tony got them into a small bed and breakfast in Italy. His mother was from the town they were staying in, so they spent their days exploring it: eating the food, drinking the wine, and making love wherever they possibly could. It seemed like the longer they were together, the more insatiable Peter became. It was obscene, how much he loved Tony Stark.

It was under the sepia light in a small restaurant that Peter grinned over at Tony and blurted out – “let’s get married.” Tony blinked at him; the signature eyebrow furrow being directed his way. Peter grinned at him, his smile growing. “Yeah, you know what – why don’t we? Want to marry me, Tony Stark?”

Tony stared at him dumbfoundedly for a few seconds before surging forward and pressing their lips together. It was more teeth than anything else, but totally perfect for the moment. “I don’t think you could have done that more perfectly,” Tony babbled when they pulled apart, his eyes glowing with the soft flicker of the candlelight sitting on their table.

The spur of the moment decision meant that he didn’t have a ring – but that didn’t seem to matter; wearing one while they were still shooting scenes wouldn’t be a thing, anyway. Peter simply pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote on one of the paper napkins on the table – “HE SAID YES – 9/21/2023”. Folding it a couple of times, he handed it over to Tony. “Until you can wear a ring on your hand.”

The day they got back on US soil, Tony and Peter applied for a marriage license and got married. Not a soul knew about it for a while, and they liked it that way. Getting to have Tony all to himself was something that didn’t happen often. The further they stepped away from the business that brought them together, the more they worked on individual things. It felt good to finally be in a college program that he liked and could afford – and watching Tony flourish would always be one of his favorite things.

Tying himself to Tony just sort of made sense, so he went with what his gut told him. When Peter got into MIT, Tony didn’t blink an eye and moved across the state with him. There wasn’t any question that together was how they were supposed to be – the permanence of marriage just made it more real.

He never told Tony about it, but he had a world shifting conversation with Clint after a scene a couple months after Italy. Since getting married, he’d been having trouble being as active a participant in the shoots. In all honesty, it’d been that way for a while. Clint was merciful and cut them for the day – his eyes following Peter as he cleaned himself up and got his shit together to get the hell out of dodge.

“Pete – wait a minute, will you?” Clint managed to get out before Peter could sneak out the door. Hanging his head, Peter walked back into the suite.

“What’s up, Clint?” Peter asked, his eyes staring at his shoes and nothing else.

“Did you guys finally make it official?” Clint put the question out there, point blank. It shouldn’t have been that surprising – both he and Tony worked with him for several years. The guy wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not even going to ask how you know. Yes – we did. And it’s fucking with my head. I don’t want anyone else.” Peter dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, the habit one he picked up from his beautiful husband.

“The long haul isn’t for everyone. Tony was a lifer because something better didn’t come his way. Not until you, of course. Maybe that’s enough, you know? That MIT degree can get you places.” Clint landed a hand on his shoulder, fingers squeezing. “Just a little food for thought.”

Neither of them said anything else, Peter hovered in Clint’s presence for another couple of minutes before turning and getting out as fast as he could. A part of him liked the fact that someone knew – Clint had obviously been keeping their secret for multiple years now. The rest of him was too focused on the man’s words to really worry about what Clint knowing actually meant. Having Tony meant the world, the life they were building was more than enough.

Later that night, Peter brought up leaving the business for good for the first time. Watching Tony’s eyes light up with a desire that the man himself probably wasn’t even aware of was the biggest sign that he’d done the right thing. “It might take us a while to phase out completely – but I’m right there with you. I’m getting too old for that shit, anyway.” Tony looked at him intensely, softness in his eye. The unspoken thank you sat in the air wrapping them both up in the exciting thought of a new start.

----

2027

Tony’s 47th birthday was the day they got to meet their son. After several phone calls and teary-eyed interviews with the agency, Tony and Peter were finally able to get their names cleared and put onto the list. The triumph of that was enough – but the opportunity to have another person join the family was the ultimate win. They got a call about a 4-year-old boy named Spencer needing a home six months later.

The first few days of fostering him were like a silent sort of torture. Tony wanted to love him up, but the shy look and overall tension the boy projected stopped him. He remembered how big of a dick his father was to him and simply smiled in Spencer’s direction, instead. Peter and Tony made pancakes at the stove side by side, their voices low as they tried their best to contain their excitement and extinguish the need to cling to the small boy. They’d been waiting for this moment for a long time – the kid that sat huddled in the booster seat at the table had not.

Slowly, Spencer started to open up – he didn’t do a lot of talking but would join them on the couch when they sat down to watch a movie and asked nightly for a story. It was a couple steps forward and a few steps back for a little while – but that was to be expected. The boy was still so young and surrounded by people and things he’d never seen before. Tony watched him eagerly, hoping for signs of acceptance.

All of the home visits they needed to have were passed with flying colors. They spent so much time making their house child proof, it was surprising that they were able to get to some of it. When it felt right, Tony and Peter were in the clear to sign the adoption papers. Before that happened, they wanted to give the small boy a chance to adjust and truly make sure he’d be comfortable with them. He came from an abusive situation and was understandably sceptic of people that were even the slightest bit like his abusers.

As the fall started to roll around, Tony and Peter were finally making a little bit of headway with Spencer. Tony managed to find an office that allowed him to work from home and Peter was steadily working his way through a graduate degree – there was plenty of time for the two of them to spend time with the boy they were absolutely smitten for.

The first true signs of Spencer starting to relax into the life they were offering came when Peter turned 26. Tony threw a small get together with Rhodey and Nat and all 4 of their kids. It was fantastic to watch Spencer run around with them and when they all broke for refreshments, Spencer came right up to him. “Can I have a juice box, dad?”

It took Tony a couple of seconds to process what he just heard – the word dad had only been tossed around a couple of times and never by Spencer himself. Forgetting himself for a moment, he threw his arms around the small boy, a soft sigh leaving his lips. “You can have whatever you want, Spence.” He quickly remembered and pulled away, but not before catching eyes with Peter. His husband was looking at him with an open mouth, his face a little scrunched up as if he were trying not to cry.

He sent the young boy on his way with a juice box, then quickly made walked over to Peter, a giant grin on his face. “He called me dad.” Tony gushed, wrapping his arms around his husband’s middle. “Holy shit.” He couldn’t believe it – after several months of trying to get Spencer out of his shell, it happened on a whim.

“What do you think he’ll call me? Papa, maybe?” Peter leaned into him, the racing of his heart against Tony’s hand making the moment all the more special. The simplicity of being gathered around friends and creating the most basic form of happiness was something he didn’t think he’d get to experience. Being loved so fiercely by Peter was the best thing to happen to him. Loving beside Peter with that same intensity was his most prized creation – he’d do anything for the family they continued to build on a daily basis.

Instead of waiting around, Tony and Peter sat down with Spencer. The little boy no longer looked at them with skepticism – his eyes were wide, his cheeks flushed with redness from the cool air they’d just been playing in. It was the greatest feeling – experiencing him take to them in the way they desired more than anything.

Tony laid a Capri Sun in front of him, his own on the table by his elbow. Taking a drink, he cleared his throat – an almost 5-year-old kid shouldn’t have made him so damn nervous. Peter’s hand on his thigh helped to ground him – Tony shot him a grateful look, his hand reaching under the table to grab it and hold tight.

“Spence, Papa and I are really excited that you came into our lives and we want you to stay. You make our little family complete. Do you – I mean,” Tony looked to Peter for help, his heart suddenly beating way too fast against his chest.

Peter stepped in, a soft tone to his voice. “What Dad is trying to ask is if you’d like to be a permanent member of the family. We love you and would be honored to be your parents.” It seemed like a lot to throw at a kid so young, but they both decided that everyone needed to be sure about it – Spencer included.

Watching him closely, Tony almost laughed out loud when the small boy sucked back the juice and sat forward. “You guys are already better than the parents I had before. I want to stay.”

And that was that.

They signed the papers in the courtroom a couple of days later – the judge proclaiming Spencer Parker Stark their son with a loud bang of his gavel.

Sitting in the booth of their favorite pizza place a few hours later, Peter wrapped an arm around Tony’s shoulder and pulled him close. Spencer was running around the play-place, so they had a couple minutes to themselves. “Is it everything you thought it’d be?” Peter asked, his lips pressing against the side of Tony’s head.

Tony leaned into him, his hand raising to tangle fingers with Peter.

“It’s even better.”

#starker #ironspider #starkerfestivalsevents #bobbie writes #skin pressed against me tight #au prompts

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an-ambivalent · 5 years ago

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Bleeding Heart [Yandere! Prince! Namjoon]

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: It obviously goes to say that since this is a yandere work, it deals with uncomfortable things that may be uncomfortable or triggering to read. This work is rather angsty? I’d like to say lol, and it contains mentions of violence so read at your own risk. I do not condone this behaviour, nor do I believe any of the mentioned members would display this type of behaviour in real life.

With certain genius-ness that is marveled at because it exceeds the human expectation comes a certain extent of ostracisation. The man lost himself behind his mask and amongst the very people who cared so little. Then, once darkness shrouded him for long enough and he stopped seeking, he found a pair of hands in the utmost unexpected circumstances that held the answers to all that he searched for.

To what many may not believe, the reality was that life of a royale could be rather complex. There were those who developed minimum brain cells and stayed blissful in their ignorance -- the one’s with an IQ lower than the room’s temperature; they were the one’s who only selfishly cared about their own needs. To be this type of person was the easiest because these individuals never cared about others. Then, there were people like him, the extraordinary, the exceptional buds who only bloomed once in a blue moon if given the right circumstances. Prince Namjoon was an innocent child of wonder who was forcefully bathed in cold blood of others -- the less unfortunate. If nurtured with an environment of love and taught to be selfless, he could have been the sovereignty who would have reigned with the power to teach love. But that was not the case. Instead, Namjoon had a rigid upbringing and it was one he was never able to break out of. No matter how intelligent he was, he was never smart enough to understand what terms of kindness and selflessness meant, and he was never smart enough to be able to escape the clutches of his own insanity that drove him to ruin everything.

“Strive for more power, you will be stronger, you will be more dignified.”

The only thing he had felt when he had raided the smaller lands, whom the victory was guaranteed against, and the count of blood of the innocent on his hands simply increased, was a hollowness in his chest.

“Get rid off those who undermine you. Take their life away and added their earnings to yours. You will be on top of the world.”

Rather than feeling a sense of gaining like he was told he would, he lost the last glimmer of lustre in his irises that was only flicker left of his innocence. The sheer coldness in his eyes, the lack of humanity, and emptiness of all emotions suddenly seemed to become the more defining traits than his unique monolids; for to be undermined was said to be anyone who gave him the slightest wrong remark, action, or emotion.

He wondered why he had not killed her in their first meeting and what had drawn him to cling onto her.

With her delicate hands, skin on them was evident of certain roughness. Her skin was darkened due to the soil coating it. With the utmost gentleness and tenderness of her hands, she tended to the flowers in his personal garden. In Namjoon’s eyes, given the ideals he was raised with, it was pointless to cater to flowers with as much caution as she did. As he watched her, the look of determination to do her best with looking after the plants, and the evident love in her gaze, baffled him.

It was like a pull from a high power that prompted him to walk towards her -- the first sole meeting that was going to take place to give him a taste of what could have been, before everything he comes to care for is taken away.

Words left him before he even knew he had spoken.

“Why do you bother trying to cater to something that is weaker than you? It seems pointless.” His cold voice rung out, causing her to halt in the midst of her movements. [Name] stayed stilled for a few moments processing that someone had called out to her. Usually, while her duties were scheduled in the garden, she was never really accompanied by someone; she was always in her own company surrounded by the fruits and flowers of her hard work. This unexpected greeting had made her freeze, and Namjoon, who would generally have a person’s head off if they took so long to respond to him, was oddly patient.

[Name] turned towards his direction, and as she looked up at him, she blinked a few times, before she felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Because of her lower status, [Name] did not interact with royals much if any, so she did not know them particularly by their face or even their name. But with the way Namjoon was dressed, it was evident he was someone of high status. So, automatically, she bowed to him in respect in response to his greeting.

“Please pardon me, I did not hear what you asked of me.” At this, Namjoon’s eyebrow twitched and now, he was beginning to feel annoyed.

“I don’t like to repeat myself, listen attentively next time when spoken to,” he began harshly. The lack of respect he held for people below him in status was evident in his condescending tone, which had also caused [Name] to wince inwardly. “I asked why do you bother trying to cater to something that is weaker than you? It seems pointless,” he stated stoically.

[Name] raised an eyebrow as she stood up to her full height Then, without an ounce of fear or hesitation, she looked into Namjoon’s emotionless eyes with her own challenging stare.

“Do you wish for me to answer truthfully or give you an answer that conforms to your ideals and beliefs?”

For a minute moment, the corner of Namjoon’s lips seemed to have twitched upwards. But it was so sudden that it might as well have been a figment of her imagination.

“Humour me with your honesty,” he responded, and [Name]’s eyes widened slightly, before she earnestly nodded.

“There’s no particular reason for why I care so much. I just do because like you and I, they’re alive. The value of one life form of life over another is just a human concept. Without our possessions, our status controlled by those who believe they have power, we are nothing, just like everything else. All living beings live and die universally, and all of us, sin and carry regrets. If we’re so similar, it’s only fair we do our best to tend to everything around us,” she explained easily, and smiled at Namjoon. In response to her reply, he suddenly found himself feeling flustered.

In a poor attempt to call her out for her foolish ideologies, he scoffed at her.

“That is an incredibly foolish perspective. It is a natural cycle of survival of the fittest. The stronger consume and end the weak,” he stated simply, and [Name] glanced away from him, before she sighed. It made Namjoon believe that she thought he was a hopeless case, and he really wondered why he had not killed her yet.

“You’re right in saying that and if that’s what you want to hear, then it’s only more important I look after plants here, isn’t it? They don’t exist to just look pretty, each can be used effectively for your gain if you wish to. Many here are cultivated into poisons that people of our kingdom use to kill each other, and to kill someone else from another kingdom. But then, where do we draw the line? Where do we realise that we have more than enough and let ourselves and others be at peace instead of alwaying causing more wars and more bloodshed,” [Name] vented, and there was great sorrow vivid in her irides. She wore her emotions and bleeding heart on her sleeve; it was evident from the way she spoke that she had been greatly affected by the ongoing war.

Somewhere deep within him, the repressed boy buried within him, who used to, and wanted to wear his own bleeding heart on his sleeve, had started to breakthrough. Namjoon felt an odd clenching in his chest, and her words, as well as the expression on her face, hurt him immensely. It made him wonder: how could she hurt him without physically hurting him?

He was interrupted out of his thoughts and returned his attention to [Name] when she let out a dry laugh, with tears at the corner of her eyes. As he observed her silently from beside her, he suddenly wished he had never started this conversation, so he would not be the reason behind her tears.

“I also think that life is just more fun when you rebel and do the opposite of what you’re told to do,” she said winking at him through her tear-stained eyes; such a merry expression, while tears — an expression of sadness — streamed down her face, caused Namjoon’s eyes to widen. It was on that day when Namjoon came to admire [Name] for the strength she held without weapons, for the wisdom she spoke of her own being, and for the kindness she showed in such a cruel world.

And he should have known better than to indulge into her as a way to search for his own innocence in an attempt to wash off the blood on his hands; he should have known better than to become involved with an innocent stranger and to allow her to become his sole weakness.

Despite the horror etched in his eyes as he looked at his own hands that were gripping the hilt of the sword, both covered in her crimson blood, he did not allow his emotions to show. He did not deserve to have the privilege to express his emotions, not after all he had done. And it was almost comical because although he had killed countless, it was [Name]’s blood, his beloved’s sole blood on his hands that took away the last of his humanity.

He had promised himself that he would always protect her. By killing her himself, and giving her a quick and painless death by his own hands, before an enemy could hurt her, he reassured himself that it was the best way to protect her.

He had done it for her. She was his responsibility, his weakness, so he had to be the one to decide what was the best outcome for her.

Blood spilled from her mouth as she fell forwards into Namjoon’s arms, and whatever gushed out of her wounds, pooled and smeared against his clothes.

“Y-You had no r-right to decide my fate f-for me,” she murmured, as the last of her life left her eyes, and they begin to dull in colour.

“I’m sorry,” Namjoon apologised pathetically, as he brought her closer. He buried his hand into her hair, and held her dying bleeding heart as it beat for the last time.

#yandere bts #yandere x reader #namjoon x reader #yandere namjoon #yandere bangtan #yandere prince #bts prince au #yandere bts namjoon #yandere fairy tale #rm x reader #yandere kpop #prince namjoon #bts fanfiction #yandere namjoon x reader #yandere imagines #bts x reader #bts fairy tale au #ambivalent writes

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chemicalpink · 5 years ago

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Astrology Series ♡ Venus Sign: how they love you ♡ BTS Hyung Line

A/N: I tried uploading this last week but it somehow got deleted so I changed it up a bit. Just a little something for you, while I’m working on other stuff. Venus essentially relates to romance, love, manners, politeness, sensuality, culture, affection, luxury, refinement, wealth, beauty, aesthetic appeal and artistic instincts. So… enjoy!

HOSEOK [pisces Venus]

Little Hobi is probably the most naive and hopeful towards love

Fairytales? Dramas? Chick flicks? you name it, it probably has something to do with his idea of falling in love

Being a creatively hungry person, he is one to wear his heart on his sleeve and would have fallen in love with you right there and then, the first time he ever saw you

Honestly, by the time he said hi to you, he already had a thousand different ways to win your heart

His Venus in Pisces makes him struggle with discerning what is authentic and what is a projection of seeing too much of the good in people, he really appreciates having you by his side to help him out not having his feelings hurt when it came to hate comments

I have said this before but this ray of sunshine is a hopeless romantic to a fault, for real.

Also, he is one to read people like books, there is no way that you can hide anything from him, no matter how hard you tried

Like, if you were having a bad day and tried to conceal it because man, he just came back from rehearsal and is tired, he would see right through that fake smile and go all the way to have you smiling for real

Even though he is the loudest™ out of the group, he is REALLY selective with who he invests time/energy in and was, surprisingly, a bit shy when he first met you

It was actually Namjoon that kinda forced him to talk to you, and he infinitely thanks him for it

It took time and a lot of patience from you to get him to really open up

But once he realised you and him were for real, man, he started dedicating his entire life to you, there is not a single thing he wouldn’t do for you

In conclusion, he will romanticise you to the point of nausea. He can and will dedicate his life to make you happy, all he asks in return is to feel supported. Protecc him.

NAMJOON [scorpio Venus]

Scorpio Venus are usually private to a fault so Joonie would probably be one to small talk for a while before actually feeling like he can trust you.

Oh but once he grows into you, be sure that he can (and will) commit wholeheartedly

He might have this mysterious facade at first but you’ll get to break into it, don’t you worry

The thing here is that he struggles with being too overinvested, so you might need the one to remind him that although you adore the way he treats you, he can’t neglect himself.

Here’s the cutest thing ever: A relationship with Namjoon is pure childlike love. He is utterly in love with you.

Of course, Joonie is one to tend to lock away the delicate parts of himself, trying to always be the one put together, but from time to time, he allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

Joon, having scorpio in venus, finds comfort and peace in what he knows is definitive, so if you both decided on starting a relationship, it is one for the long road.

I’m talking long-term plans and all

Namjoon is one to be attracted to the person that usually goes overlooked so I’m pretty sure he would have fallen in love with you just by seeing you do the most mundane thing

You probably caught his eye while sitting quietly in a cafe or something, out of the blue really.

You don’t have to invest that much into him, he finds amazingly beautiful small gestures that you have for him, like how every night from day one you wished him sweet dreams, or how on your second cafe date you remembered his order by heart.

He isn’t one to bound by material things, he actually cares more about the experiences so expect a lot of new adventures “just for the experience”

All I’m saying is… travel around the world

In conclusion, Namjoon will quite literally dedicate his entire existence to you, you are always in his mind and there is not a single step in his life that isn’t given without having previously thought about you.

YOONGI [aries Venus]

Okay there is no way to deny this, the BIGGEST misunderstanding with Yoongi is that his love language is non committal

Like sure, he doesn’t do big displays of affection or writes lengthy love notes to you. But he does show you what you mean to him in his own unique way.

For example, those times he had you over at his studio while he was working overnight, or how he loved to run his fingers over your knuckles when he had you close and was talking to the other members

Min Yoongi is action-oriented, so he isn’t quite caught up in details, which is sometimes a big problem when you tried to make him catch a hint to make him realise that he had done something wrong.

Subtext is just not his language, he much rather have you scream at him what he did wrong. Otherwise, he would never catch it.

Now, sure, he is one to be seen as cold but he seeks out how to cater to your needs and usually approaches things delicately, truth be told, it took you a while to grow accustomed to his little love gestures with a plain face.

His Aries Venus allowed him to quickly pour himself into you because he just instantly felt you were worth fighting for.

I mean, he didn’t even wait for a while to tell you he liked you

It was actually one of the first things he told you, something along the lines of “Look Y/N, I’m attracted to you, let’s go on a date”

In conclusion, Yoongi is inherently honest and transparent with his way of loving you. He just doesn’t see the point of being inauthentic.

SEOKJIN [capricorn Venus]

He might seem outgoing but man is this boy a little shy anxious ball

I mean, he actually hid behind a pillar waiting for someone else to arrive. Same Jin, same.

When in love, it takes A LOT for him to open up and trust you, but having you by his side after a while, he felt so comfortable, you came to know him better than the palm of your hand.

Jin is one to overcommit to routine, there is no such thing like spontaneous romance for him. So if you are to get together, it will be because you already are a part of his life.

Now, I’m not saying Jinnie is a big dom but… it takes a lot of strength for him to give you his heart (even after what? ten dates? but who’s counting) because he LOVES to be in control.

He is incredibly emotionally sensitive, and honestly, being the eldest in BTS has had him conceal this so he is very grateful that he can just let loose with you.

Worldwide Handsome™ is also Worldwide-making-sure-he-makes-your-life-easier, it’s just something he has in him.

It even came to a point where he carried you up the three small steps to your home’s entrance because ‘you seemed too tired to do it yourself’

Jin doesn’t ask much in return for his love, he feels loved through you being reliable for him. Just the thought of you being there for him is enough.

In conclusion, Seokjin’s love language is to go out of his way continually to make your life easier. He just likes to act tough.

He wants to be spoiled and babied 24/7 but he will take this to his grave.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! Please let me know if you did, and as always, requests are open. Also, I’m so sorry for not uploading but I’ll do my best to be consistent. Life has just been weird lately.

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altumvidetur · 5 years ago

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Good Omens: Crowley/Aziraphale Fic Recs

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

Let’s go for the Ineffable Husbands fanfics!

In Nomine, by tinsnip

The first time he’d given in to the impulse to just make up a name, he’d felt a bit odd about it. But everything had gone so smoothly. He’d been able to just go in and eat and then leave and it hadn’t mattered at all, the human hadn’t really wanted to know his name, they’d just wanted something to peg him by while he was there.

And so: Fell. Ezra Fell. Ms Azee Phale. Mme A Zinnia File. A Z Fell, bookseller.

That last one has stuck around the longest, now. He’s grown rather attached to it.

A... A... what begins with A?

Aziraphale makes dinner reservations for himself and Crowley, and is a bit thoughtless. Silly business.

swimming in your ocean (i can get pretty sidetracked), by tinsnip

Under him, Aziraphale makes a soft, deep sound.

He lets go, leaves his lips just where they are. “You’re sweet. You taste sweet.”

Apparently Aziraphale isn’t up to making words right now.

***

Three little chapters of happy smut. Immortal genderless beings assuming mostly-human forms would, I figure, have a bit of a different approach to sex. They've got no particular drive, and all the time in the world. Getting sidetracked is part of the fun.

Eyes Closed, by tinsnip

Aziraphale makes love with his eyes closed.

Crowley doesn’t.

Bad Habits, by tinsnip

Clearly, both Crowley and Aziraphale used to smoke. We know this. We’ve been told this by Mr. Gaiman.

I’d be very surprised if either of them still does. But the reasons for this, and the methods by which their statuses changed, are different.

Notably: Crowley cheats. Aziraphale doesn't.

Like light, refracted, by tinsnip

Full steam ahead, decided Crowley: “I think we should get naked.”

Ethereal/occult lovemaking of the rather fluffy variety.

tell me all the ways, by tinsnip

Crowley was out in the garden.

Aziraphale was in his study, most definitely not looking out the window.

Really. Really. One little speck of sentiment: was it so much to ask?

what a way to make a living, by attheborder

Without any more assignments coming from Downstairs, Crowley is struck with a bad case of the doldrums.

It takes a bit of trial and error, but eventually a solution is found.

(Or: the one where Crowley becomes an Uber driver.)

summer and his pleasures, by witching

for summer and his pleasures wait on thee, and thou away, the very birds are mute; or if they sing, ‘tis with so dull a cheer, that leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near. // william shakespeare, sonnet 97

absence makes the heart grow fonder, and crowley and aziraphale’s hearts were plenty fond to begin with. a story told through phone calls while they are separated for work-related reasons.

nothing but the wild rain, by Raven

"The internet, Aziraphale!" Crowley says. "This is what the internet is for. This is, quite literally, what the internet is for."

"Oh," Aziraphale says, and Crowley knows, he just knows, that Aziraphale is going to say something about how it's jolly useful for hard-to-find first editions and tickets for the Last Night of the Proms.

or, Aziraphale and Crowley find sex confusing.

Forever, by goodomensblog

Heaven’s execution chamber was elegant, magnificent - and bare. Polished floors gleamed, immaculate; their cleanliness made it impossible to guess at the atrocities committed upon them. Clean, white walls glared, and a window as large as the room was tall, teased of freedom just out of reach.

At the center of it all, was a chair.

And upon that chair, an angel sat.

Across the cold, stark room - too far from the angel - a demon knelt, bound.

The ropes burned, and Crowley hissed, hunching his shoulders as he turned his head up. The angel, his wrists tied to the chair, met and held his stare.

No, it couldn’t - it wasn’t - this wasn’t right.

Confused and in pain, Crowley called, “Angel, you alright?”

Aziraphale’s light hair appeared white in the harshly lit room, and his face had gone pale; but at Crowley’s call he sat up in the chair, bound hands giving a feeble wave.

London. 1944., by AliceinSpace

The air ripples and stars blink in and out of existence as the fabric of the universe creates a loophole in the middle of the street. A figure drops unceremoniously from that loophole and hits the pavement in a tangle of limbs.

"-is that a gunshot wound?”

Or the one in which a fatally injured Crowley runs to the only place that makes sense: a bookshop in Soho.

Of Eclairs, Feathers and Complex Reactions to Trauma, by oneatatime

“Do you know,” Aziraphale said, his voice muffled in the shoulder of Crowley’s jacket, “that when humans go through trauma, they can be quite calm and competent throughout, but then the terror comes out later, as it must?

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too, by Demorra

He didn’t want to think about the bookshop. It hurt in a way that was entirely too visceral to be angelic, and entirely too earth shattering to be human. It was the love of several hundred years, burned up in an instant. It shouldn’t have mattered, not if he were truly angelic. But he shed a few silent tears anyway and felt somewhat better for it. All things considered, it wasn’t the end of the world.

No, that had been much more complicated.

And yet, somehow so very mundanely human. No great battle, no heavenly sounding of horns or hordes of demons. Just a choice, a choice not between Good and Evil, but between darkness and light, hope and despair, fear and… and love…

the mortifying ordeal of being known (biblically), by FlipSpring

"Relax, angel, it's not much worse. It's just our bodies. It's not like we enfolded or anything." ~ Crowley, in 500 AD, after having physical sex with Aziraphale for the first time, blissfully unaware that he has just foreshadowed himself into a corner

Crowley procrastinates on his feelings by taking a 5-year nightmare nap after the End Of The World. Aziraphale comes in like, "dude wake the fuck up, also, do you wanna metaphysically bang maybe? no pressure." and then Crowley loses his goddamn mind, because he is a delicately-stacked bundle of neuroses in black skinny jeans.

Also they have breakfast and check in on Tadfield.

Re-Recalled, by Jennistar

Halfway through an argument, Aziraphale gets accidentally discorporated and doesn't come back. Crowley does the sensible thing and panics.

Luminosity, by bethagain

A quick trip to bless someone with a miracle takes a wrong turn, and Aziraphale and Crowley are stuck overnight in rural Iceland. The northern lights are beautiful, but it turns out demons, cold-blooded, tend to seize up when it's freezing out. Aziraphale finds a way to get him warm again.

i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth, by Princex_N

(Summary by me: the one in which Crowley has been living with chronic pain for thousands of years.)

Queen’s Greatest Hits, by BuzzCat

Good Omens fanfic with no coherent through-line between fics aside from each one is inspired in one way or another by a Queen song, listed in the notes for each fic.

i know i’ve kissed you before (but i didn’t do it right), by gallantrejoinder

They'd given it a go once. Ages ago. And they'd both agreed it wasn't for them.

the whole damned world seemed upside down, by citadelofswords

(Summary by me: facing the odds and moving on with the world.)

Leaves of Grass, by Laura Shapiro

(Summary by me: the world is saved, and now they’re left to explore each other.)

The Sacred and the Profane, by afrai

(POPULLI.NET link) Somewhere else, the happy ending was different. AU.

Be Ye Therefore Merciful, by AmberDiceless

Crowley does something utterly unexpected, and Aziraphale must face an opponent who cannot be thwarted. Hints of pre-A/C.

Full Circle, by Hekateras

Nothing lasts forever and the final Apocalypse can only be delayed for so long.

There is a school of thought that says you cannot fight fate.

And another that claims there's no such thing as predestination, only those powerful enough to make your choices for you - if you let them.

Aziraphale puts both to the test.

Living Arrangements, by afrai

(POPULLI.NET link) Everyone is more or less human, even when they aren't.

Nanny Knows Best, by DictionaryWrites

Summary by me: an exploration of Crowley’s experience as Warlock’s nanny.

From the Top (Say Your Lines Once More), by CoffeeStars

Crowley lives and dies and wakes up to repeat the cycle. And every single time Aziraphale is there, a different face and new memories.

Manchester Lost, by Moczo

(FF.Net Link) -an ensemble sequel to the novel- Our heroes have managed to make things worse, as the Apocalypse is starting up... again. Drama! Action! Humor! Adventure! Tea! Suspense! Snark! Romance!

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #fic recs #otp: goodness and bastardry #if you haven't read manchester lost yet start with that #because it's goddamn hilarious #please warn me if any links are broken #and reblog it if you can so more people will see it

7 notes · View notes

wonderlandmind4 · 6 years ago

Text

Delicate Stages Drabbles: Ten

I Could Do Without a Tan on my Left Hand

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: Drabbles following Delicate Stages. Looking into the life of Bucky and Ana. Warnings: Language. Fluff. .

Words: 4.2k

A/N: These drabbles are starting to go somewhere now, catching up with the timeline….I’m posting drabbles for Delicate Stages here! (Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first)

Excitement and affection runs through Ana’s entire body as she stares down at the ring on her left hand. She admires its simple beauty, holding up her hand as she beams at Bucky. He fondly shakes his head, rolling his eyes as she holds up her right hand as well. The identical dark blue ring sits on her right middle finger, opposite of her left.

“Ready?” Ana questions, attempting to tamper down her giddiness.

Bucky sees right through her. “You’re way too excited for this.”

“You offered. I asked T’Challa, but he said he already had this experience once and didn’t want to relive it.”

“Great.”

Ana blows him a kiss along with a wink. She twists her new, carefully made energy rings like Shuri instructed her to. Instantly, a thin layer of something materializes over her entire body, shimmering lightly, and sitting close like a second layer of skin. Ana marvels at the sight, turning her hand and wiggling her fingers in front of her. The force field is barely noticeable, the shimmer only visible when it catches the light just so. No one would be able to catch on to it right away, unless they were looking for it.

Curious, Ana gently presses her fingertips of each hand together, closing her them like she’s praying. The force field just morphs over her hands, accommodating to the new connection. She releases an excited little noise at the sight. Already she can feel her energy leveling out, safely contained without any effort on her part. It almost feels like a weight as been lifted off her shoulders.

“Now you’re sure this is safe, right?” She checks with Shuri one last time.

Shuri nods, but her eyes are focused on something in her hand. She taps the bead, then a screen projects several inches above her palm. Ana spots a little red holographic dot on the screen.

“White Boy Wonder has nothing to worry about,” She assures, smirking at Ana. “Plus, he’d be quicker to bounce back anyhow. Just make sure you don’t add anything to the energy extraction. The first, automatic defense is draining the opponent’s energy without you having to do so immediately.”

“Are you recording this!?” Bucky suddenly questions, voice indignant. He points a menacing finger at her. “Do not show Steve.”

“It is for research purposes!”

From somewhere behind Ana, T’Challa snorts. He has been sitting further back, content to spectate from a distance. Ana bites back her laugh.

“I promise to make it up to you, Winter Bunny,” Ana tells him sweetly.

Bucky drops his finger, shooting her a playfully glare at the name. “I demand flan for dessert.”

In true adult fashion, Ana sticks her tongue out at him. She sees his face soften, the little crinkles by his eyes appearing. It’s his fond face he has for her, one he swears he doesn’t do. It’s on video now.

“Ready, darlin’?” Bucky checks in, shifting on his feet.

“Bring it, babe,” She responds lightly.

Bucky suddenly sprints at her, gave her no warning he was going to do so. Ana waits for the last second, then places her hands up, palms flat. The moment Bucky’s chest comes in contact with her hands, is the same moment there’s a flash of golden white light, and Bucky is now across the room. He’s groaning, flat on his back.

Ana’s eyes widen for a moment, staring at her shimmering hands before she carefully jogs to where he is. As she peers down at him, his eyes are closed, and he abruptly looks exhausted. She’d be worried, if it weren’t for the slightly furrow of his brows and the little tilt of his lips.

“Bucky? Are you okay? Was that too much? Are you hurt?” Ana can’t help but question. She twists her rings and the field fades away.

“Sleep,” Bucky mumbles, barely raising his hand off the ground to wave it.

“What?” She drops to her knees next to him. She places her hand on his forehead, causing his eyes to flutter open.

“M’fine, baby,” He sighs heavily. “Hell, is that what you do to people? I feel like plug was just pulled from inside me.”

“Sorry,” Ana mutters sheepishly.

She feels a little guilty now, almost insecure about her abilities. She has always used her Empathic Healing more than her Energy Alchemy on people. Bucky’s laying in front of her, eyes struggling to remain open is why. For a long while, she couldn’t remember how it felt to drain Eric Woods’ life energy, however Bucky is correct. It felt like she had found a plug and slowly began pulling until there was almost nothing left. If the rings do a small amount of draining for her, she wonders how much damage she can really do with full force.

“Hey, Annie Doll, I’m fine. Really,” Bucky reassure, slowly leaning up on his elbows.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have these,” She says quietly, moving to take the rings off.

Bucky stops her, taking hold of her hand with his left. “How are you feeling? Any different in your levels?”

She shakes her head. “No, I feel completely fine.”

“Then it worked. I’m the first person to refuse it, but honestly, if it came to having you fight for something again, these protect you. Physically, but also from draining yourself as well.”

“If you say so. They are pretty cool.”

Chuckling, Bucky finally sits up, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and kissing her temple. “I feel fine, Ana. Just sleepy.”

“So,” Shuri’s cautious voice breaks them out of their little bubble. “Evaluation time?”

Ana listens to Shuri continue to talk about the rings, as Bucky is slumped forward, resting his head against her chest. His arms are loosely wrapped around her waist as he sits on one of the desks by the computer. She’s reminded of their time in the Lab back in New York, when Bucky would sit patiently, willing to listen to Ana’s words as she stood in front of him. She cards her fingers through his long, thick hair, now brushing the top of his shoulders.

Honestly, Ana loves the rings. She loves that Shuri took the time and consideration to make them, all with the goal to help regulate her powers while catering to Bucky’s primal want of keeping her safe. T’Challa brings the video up, and the four of them watch it once, for true research purposes. The next five times they watch it is for pure entertainment.

When Ana and Bucky arrive back at the hut, he immediately flops down on the little bed, pulling her along with him. He presses lazy kisses over every inch of her face, from the top of her head to her chin. It makes her giggle as his thickening beard tickles her skin, and she snuggles under his jaw, pressing her own kiss to his neck.

“I love your powers, Ana,” He whispers, drifting off to sleep. “Every single part of you.”

Ana thinks her heart will never stop fluttering at Bucky’s words.

A week passes by and Ana is so utterly confused. Bucky hasn’t been ignoring her per say, but he’s felt off. He’s been quieter, almost as reserved as he was when they first met. It causes a strange clenching feeling in her stomach.

“Bucky, you’re sure I didn’t-“She starts for the 100th time.

“No, Ana. Really, it’s not that,” Bucky cuts her off. He kisses her knuckles, but inhales deeply afterwards. Then he releases her hand quickly.

“Well, you’re acting funny. I don’t like it,” She grumbles, fiddling with her phone. “I’m going to call Pepper. We haven’t chatted in a while.”

She stands up from the couch, ignoring the movie on the TV. She’s stopped when her wrist is caught in his right hand. She glances over her shoulder, Bucky’s face impassive.

“I’m sorry, Annie,” He says, eyes flicking to hers. “I’ve just been feeling…off. Just thinking lately.”

“Is it the Accords again?”

Steve had called once again, informing Bucky of what was going on. Ana had overheard, and from the sounds of it, tension is rising and it’s not stopping. She’s worried it’s going to cause a major riff between her friends. She remembers Wanda expressing crushing guilt the last time they spoke on the phone; the young woman blaming herself for the entire reason the Accords exist in the first place.

Bucky frowns slightly, tilting his head. He blinks, and his face goes back to being stoic. “Yes.”

Ana sighs, twisting her hand until their fingers lace together. “Don’t let it worry you too much, okay? I’m sure they can come to some other agreement. I hope.”

He nods as Ana’s phone rings. She glances at the screen, as if Pepper had a feeling Ana needed to talk to her anyway. Her cousin is calling. She flashes Bucky a little smile, before pulling her hand away.

“Hey,” His voice stops her from walking out of the room. “I love you.”

Ana gives him a real smile, because the soft fondness is in his eyes again. “Love you, too.”

A warm breeze gently blows the stray hairs hanging around Ana’s face off her cheeks. She blinks at the sunset casting soft oranges and pinks over the lake. She has lived in Wakanda for ten months now, and to this day, she still can’t get over the beauty of it. This spot by the lake, just on the bank, had quickly became her favorite, and it’s not from how beautiful and peaceful it is. Mainly, it’s her favorite spot because this is where Bucky looks his best, where he took her that first time, and in all the time Ana had known him, she had never seen a more serene, accepting and free expression on his face than when he’s here. This is their spot.

They usually meet at this spot at the end of their days, whether Bucky works out in the field all day, or if Ana had spent her hours at the Lab. Without fail, they meet here. Without fail, Bucky greets her with the most delicate of kisses, still tantalizing to this day. She had wondered a few times when she first moved here, if the love Bucky has for her would fade, just fizzle off like a flame coming to its end. It hasn’t, and she felt guilty for even thinking it, mainly because her love for him will never fade. Ever. They seemed share this little seed of doubt with each other, under the cover of night, and it always ended with heart felt confessions and reminders that their love for each other will never end. It’s stronger than ever.

It’s been eight months since those delicate nights and confessions. Not once has it been thought of again, because they both know, no matter what they go through, their love is solid, and real. Even with the strange way Bucky has been acting. Ana glances away from the horizon to look over at him.

Bucky isn’t looking at the sunset like Ana was expecting him too. Instead, he’s staring at her, a softness coloring his blue eyes, and a gentle smile tugging at his lips. His hair is a little messy, stray strands falling out from the bun Ana had put it in this morning. He looks a little tired, as he always does when he works on the farm, and there’s a little piece of hay stuck by his ear, as if he was rolling around the grass again with the children and his goats.

Ana carefully reaches up, pulling the hay from his hair, and tossing it aside. Bucky’s smile grows, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and deep blue glittering in the setting sunlight. Every time Bucky stares at her this way, her heart surges in warmth and her stomach flutters; each and every time.

“What?” Ana murmurs, keeping the small chuckle bubbling up her throat at bay.

Bucky minutely shakes his head. “You’re just so beautiful. I’m sorry I’ve been strange lately.”

Ana bites her lip, because Bucky is always so soft in their spot. “Bucky…it’s okay.”

He shifts closer, lifting his hands to gently trace along her jaw. “I have something to ask you.”

Quirking a curious, Ana questions, “What is that?”

He leans in, his lips grazing over hers. “Did you bring the Nutella?”

Ana cackles, throwing her head back. Bucky follows suit, taking the basket from her hands. He opens the tops, rummaging through it, before he pulls out the jar with a triumphant expression.

“How many times have we had dinner here, and you’re still asking me that silly question?”

Bucky shrugs, a shit eating grin on his face now. He quickly kisses her nose. Rolling her eyes fondly, Ana goes to grab the jar back when one of the goat bleats. She turns in the direction, making sure they’re okay. Apparently one of the older goats chased away a younger one from its spot on the hay bail.

She turns to see if Bucky had noticed the funny exchange, but he’s no longer standing. Ana drops her eyes, only to see him kneeling. He’s not looking at her, instead his head is pointed down, his hands searching for something in the soft sand and grass on the bank of the lake.

“What are you doing?” She questions, confused.

Bucky halts his movements for a moment. He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. He doesn’t answer her, just goes back to running his fingers through the ground. The goat bleats again. Ana whirls around and laughs, the younger goat has now taken over the pile of hay.

“Are you seeing this? That little one is a-”Ana’s words fade out in her throat when she turns back.

Whatever he was looking for, Bucky found. Because he’s kneeling properly now, a nervous glint in his eyes that matches the timid smile on his lips. He’s holding his right hand under his chin, fist clenched tight. He takes a deep breath, then slowly hold his hand out in the air.

“What are you doing?” Ana breathes, her heartbeat rapidly speeding up.

Bucky shifts his fingers. Suddenly, he’s holding a ring between his thumb and forefinger. All air leaves Ana’s lung. The ring he is holding glitters against the setting sun. It glitters because it’s a golden ring. It glitters because it’s a diamond, golden ring. A ring with one, rather decent size, round diamond in the middle, framed by a smaller diamonds on each side.

“I,” Bucky begins, his voice cracking. He clears his throat. “I-I’m trying…”

Ana is sure the world has stopped spinning around her. Her heart is racing, her blood warming throughout her veins. She can’t be sure, but she thinks her mouth is hanging open a little, and her eyes are wide. She feels frozen.

“Ana,” Bucky speaks firmly, but quiet. His voice shakes with nerves.

Ana places her hand over her heart.

“The first time I saw you I knew you were something different, something special. That day you put your hand on my chest and told me to feel. That day all I felt was you. All I feel is you, and all I’m ever going to feel is you. My life…my life has been filled with darkness, but you have become the brightest light in my world since I met you. There were days where I didn’t see the point…I was just surviving. But now, I know my life has been worth living because you are in it. And I- I would really love to spend the rest of my days with you. So, AnaRosa Rios. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Bucky spoke slowly, clearly, so every word he said was eloquent, deliberate. Ana heard every single word he spoke. She swears her heart had stopped beating, only to jump-start again at his nervous question.

The beautiful man in front of her in on his knee, holding a beautiful ring up in front of her. His beautiful blue eyes are swimming with emotion, too fast for her to decipher. This man, her beautiful Bucky, is asking her to marry him. Tears sting her eyes that have been staring open for far too long. Ana blinks.

Slowly, Ana falls to her knees, now on the same level as him. She feels her lips spread into a slow, gentle smile as she cups both of his cheeks with her hands. She can feel him trembling, can see his own tears building up in his incredible blue eyes. She feels her own tear stray and run down her cheek.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” Ana says softly, but with all the conviction she has. “Of course, I’ll marry you.”

Bucky blinks, inhaling deeply before exhaling shakily. “You will?”

He asks as if he can’t believe her words. Ana nods, a noise escaping her mouth; a strange mix of a laugh and a sob.

“Yes. Yes, Bucky, God yes.”

Then Ana pulls him in for a kiss. It’s breathless, and wet because her tears have fallen, and they’re both releasing little huffs of laughter. The kiss is no longer a proper one, just their smiles and teeth pressed against each other’s. She runs her fingers through his hair, then traces along his jaw, swipes her thumbs under his eyes, wiping away his tears.

They stay like that for several long moments, Ana holding Bucky’s face, with Bucky’s left arm hugging around her waist. He pulls back slightly, enough for him to slip his arm away from her hips to hold her left hand. He goes to slip the ring on, but he fumbles, and drops it.

“Damnit,” He chuckles, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. “That’s the second time.”

“Did you…is that what you were looking for earlier?” Ana laughs, petting the back of his head.

“Yes,” He grumbles, finding the ring and picking it up. He wipes it on his shirt. “I was so goddamn nervous.”

He gets it on the second try, gently slipping the ring on her forth finger of her left hand. It looks beautiful. It looks like it belongs there. It looks like Bucky carefully picked it out. Ana holds her hand up, her heart swelling too large to fit in her chest.

The ring is so simple, utterly delicate and stunning. It’s not over the top, or clustered with gems. As she continues to gaze at it, she thinks it symbolizes both of them. She loves it. She locks eyes with Bucky. She loves him. She feels him, and every single emotion radiating off him. Realization dawns on her.

“Bucky,” She places her newly jeweled hand on his cheek. “Is this why you were acting so…”

“Standoffish?” He finishes for her. He frowns, a guilty look washing over his face. “Yeah, I’m so sorry, baby. I just didn’t want you to catch on.”

“Well, good job. I had no idea,” She laughs honestly. She glances at the ring again. “I love it. I love you.”

Bucky pulls her in, pressing a sweet, tender kiss to her lips. “I love you so much, Annie.”

The youngest goat bleats again. They break out of their kiss, laughing loudly.

“I love you too!” Bucky shouts towards the goat.

Ana nearly falls over laughing.

They had finished their dinner by the lake, with goofy smiles, and little touches. After they were done, Bucky had grabbed her left hand, thumbing over the ring. One look at each other, and they were rushing back to the apartment instead of spending the night at the hut.

The baskets and its contains, plates and napkin and crumbles, were scattered across the floor. Their clothes decorated the counter, the couch, even the TV. The wall had suffered a small dent from where Bucky had slammed into it, all due to Ana’s ministrations. The table cloth had been ripped off the surface when Ana had bumped into it, gripping onto the nearest thing as Bucky sent waves of pleasure throughout her body.

Neither of them had been holding back. The lights had flickered on and off, the atmosphere of the room had thickened, heavy with unabashed emotion both of them were releasing into the air. Bucky had pressed her to the wall, to the chair sitting in the corner, to their bed. Ana had dug her nails into his skin, had pulled his hair to bring him closer. They both pressed each other into the mattress, taking turns as they kissed, bit, licked and made love to each other for the rest of the night. Their hands laced together, with the new sensation of the engagement ring against their skin.

The sun was now rising, soft hues of blues breaking through the curtains. Their legs are tangled together, their bodies pressed closer, skin damp with sweat, the air smelling of sex. They continue to press little loving kisses to each other on every and any place they can reach. Finally, Bucky takes Ana’s left hand once more, pressing his lips over her ring finger.

“I’d never thought I would come close to having this,” He confesses between them, voice barely a whisper. His eyes remain locked on hers.

Ana doesn’t need to have empathic powers to knows how much love he has for her. It’s shinning in his eyes like stars. She blinks back tears; the whole night has been an emotional ride. She brushes his damp hair away from his face.

“I never knew I could feel this much love,” She tells him, keeping her voice soft. “You are my heart and soul, Bucky.”

He moves her hand over his chest, his heart fluttering beneath her palm. “I feel you. Always.”

Ana knows she’s blushing, and it’s not from their night of passionate lovemaking. She presses a tender kiss to his chin.

“I love you,” She breathes, shifting as Bucky does the same. They end up resting against the headboard, Ana’s back against his chest. She holds her hand out. “I fucking love this ring, too.”

Bucky laughs, kissing her temple. “I’m glad. I was so nervous picking it out. I thought it fit you perfectly. I’m grateful for the help.”

“What help?”

“Uh…”

Ana turns her head up to look at him. “Who helped you?”

“Pepper. Wanda…Nat.”

Her mouth drops. “They knew?”

“Pepper knew. Wan and Nat…they were sending me pictures a while ago, thinking they could tease me and such. They have no idea how long I’ve been planning on asking you.”

“How long?” Ana can’t help but smile giddily at the idea.

“Since you moved here,” Bucky shrugs casually. His blushing cheeks betray him. “I was considering it. Then you had the surgery, then the wedding planning started, and I knew I wanted to ask you. I thought, maybe I should wait until after the wedding. But I didn’t want to ask without getting blessings first.”

“Blessings? Oh, my God. You asked permission to marry me? From Pepper?”

Bucky’s eyes shift, a slow smile spreading across his mouth. “And Tony.”

Ana sits up, twisting to fully look at him. “You…Bucky. You asked Tony’s permission to marry me?”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

Tears well up in her eyes again. “At their wedding…”

“That’s why I was so nervous.”

“I thought it was because there were so many people.”

“Nah. It was because I was asking the man who used to hate every fiber of my being to marry someone who is extremely important to him. Like family.”

“We’re all family,” Ana reminds him, fondly thinking of everyone at the compound.

“Yes, doll” Bucky pokes at her nose. She tugs his hair. “But you’re like his sister…daughter?”

Ana makes a noise. “He’s…only 18 years older than me.”

“Not the point, darlin’. I asked him, them, nervous as all hell. He said “yes, about damn time.” Pepper smacked him but agreed,” Bucky laughs. “It was that same trip where I picked out the ring. Pepper and I snuck out before they left for their honeymoon. Uh, Stark gave me money.”

“He what!?” Ana gasps in shock.

“He said I was long over due being paid for that mission a while ago. He gave me cash as payment, told me to spend it how I please. That it was my money because I earned it.”

“Holy shit. Wait, I didn’t get paid for that. Rude.”

He chuckles at her pout, thumbing at her bottom lip. “I’m trying to say that I paid for it myself, and not-“

“Hey, sweetheart,” Ana stops him with a smile. “I’m not concerned about that, babe, it’s alright.” She holds up her hand again, “Although…this is what? Just under a carat? Jesus.”

“It’s .75.”

“Bucky…holy shit.”

“It’s a moissanite, Ana. Or, the main stone is. I remembered your rant about diamonds.”

Ana laughs, falling back against his chest. “You’re amazing. Are the smaller ones diamonds then?”

“Yes, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Bucky, I love you,” She tells him, turning her face again. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

The smile on Bucky’s face makes his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunch up. It makes her heart swell.

“I can’t wait for you to be my wife, Ana. I love you so much.”

They share a sweet kiss, before Ana breaks away.

“M’Baku is going to be so heartbroken.”

Bucky tackles her to the mattress. “Too damn bad,” He growls.

He spends the rest of the morning making Ana everything but her fiancé.

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

Drabbles: Nine Drabbles: Eleven

Tags: @justreadingfics @kat-lives @towrite-or-nottowrite @watchoutforfrostbite

#delicate stages drabbles #delicate stages #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes x original female character

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encrer · 6 years ago

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t-that’s a lot of questions!! Sorry mobile users.

Answering them for Sophia because that’s the oc I have (FOR NOW... WINK AND ALSO EYE EMOJI).

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

I’m a huge sucker for the found family trope. “good childhood” seems so subjective, don’t it? In Arcana verse or not (I keep ocs beyond what they do in certain series settings) I’m tentatively going to say the childhood for Sophia is similar. She was “lifted” from dull and despairing circumstances as a “useful investment.” Into a pretty rough-and-tumble setting to grow up in. Circa 8-year-old Sophia had a lot of natural magic ability with absolutely no training or direction. Not that this was the only reason she was uhhhhhh, literally just kidnapped happily I guess? Impromptu guardian responsible for the uhhh drive by adopting, for a lack of a better term, is not a bad person. Definitely not a good person either depending on who you ask... There’s baggage there. (´∀｀；) pre-canon, and I’m talking 18 years ago, goes to shit pretty spectacularly. What she remembers of it is a goodbad memory. This is vague because I want it to fit into the arcana setting without hassle.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

As I said: I’m a sucker for the found family trope. Let’s tease out the adoptive brother for a second since that’ll probably be my second and only other fan apprentice. They had fun synergy in the past. I’m sure that’ll be the case again when I get to it except

She saw him die. He remembers nothing. So really awkward reunion that’ll be.

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

No pets but there were certainly some animals around.There’s a pygmy octopus that likes to swing around anytime she’s remotely near water ways.

16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it?

I’ve mentioned before she’s a sentimental binch. Personal items from people she’s is or has been close with are going to be kept forever. I’ve mentioned the compass before. She’ll keep stuff like that on her person as reminders. Other more delicate or big things she’ll keep safe in the Nostalgia Box™.This isn’t limited to people from the past. If someone makes a good impression and gifts something/introduces something she’ll hold onto it. You can say………… she collects sentiment #deep.

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

Sophia will absolutely get very personal with insults if need be. If the situation calls for it. She passively people watches so chances are she has some specially very catered insults tucked away in the back of her head for anyone she’s met. It’s actually hurtful. Terribly merciless - but if they got her to that point? They probably deserve it. She’d rather insult someone to their face. On the other hand, if someone else comes to her to gossip and bitch about a third party she’ll live for it.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Sophia isn’t above cackling at slapstick moments and horrible pun-ny jokes. Shady humour will also get her. Really dark jokes she won’t be able to decide if she wants to be concerned or laugh so she does both.As for the second part of this question: she can crack jokes. But there’s a time and place for clowning around. She can be very melodramatic at times.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

Bisexual! At the beginning I pegged her as more aggressive but as I’ve thought more on it I’m leaning to more verse now. Someone has just got to establish themselves as an absolutely boss as bitch if they don’t want to do any playful headbutting with her. Back and forth teasing is so real and a must essentially. Because Sophia won’t be able to stop herself. It’s a must. So, anyone who can’t keep up isn’t going to have a good time. …She’s a huge sucker for a pretty face. She gives hypocritical passes on things she usually wouldn’t for people with pretty faces.

42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition?

👀 💦 Sophia is just drifting aimlessly at the moment. More reactive and opportunistic than anything.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

PROBABLY NOT. If she’s self-reflecting deeply it means she’s in a bad place.

46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves?

…How would you feel about a clownyfucker butting in to whatever you were doing to introduce herself because you looked interesting? And whether you were rude or not has consequences down the line on whether she disrespects your existence?

I think she’s made some bad first impressions in her life. But who doesn’t?

#serenitylost #text post #long post #Sophia Albright #FEATURING... OH WHO IS THAT?#I'm splitting the romance options between the two it'll PROBABLY go #Sophia: NADIA asra ....maybe lucio because I want them to fist fight #and ???: MURIEL Portia Julian #emphasis for main love interests my mans #who I'm describing in 3 isn't the same as 5 but #for sure also got driveby kidnapped but for him that was 100% unwilling and continued to be for.... honestly years after #[slams hand on desk] I would prefer death to ever having any sort of shipping material between adoptive siblings btw #also tiny cephlapods are aDORABLE OK

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makku-ruko · 5 years ago

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Magic School mains

Miandre family:

History: Children of Jenissent Miandre and Glory Bayweiver.

Their mother was a sweet, benevolent and weak individual. Frail whereas the father was brutal and reckless yet he’d soften greatly for his wife. They all inhabited a small village to the North northeast of said famous magic school. A quaint village by the name of Reisse.

Mahogany was the firstborn and the only child to have been raised by both parents. Makurai came after. However, at the age of four, Jenissent fell gravely ill whilst pregnant with the third child. Come the full moon, she went into labour in her sick bed and by then everyone was sure it’d kill her....but it didn’t. Once the child was born, Glory forgot himself, quickly dashing out to find a doctor leaving Mahogany to name him.

Believing the saviour of his mother to be the blessings of the moon, he decided on: Tsuki. He’d plucked said name from their neighbour who frequently spoke and chanted blessings of the Moon god. Nobody could understand her yet she was old and wise with her words—passionate. ‘Tsuki’ was all Mahogany could recognise from her speech and so stuck with it. Villagers would smile genuinely and nod in acknowledgement when she spoke. She passed away shortly after Tsuki’s birth.

A few years later, Omo was born and he was named collectively by them all. This was influenced by the neighbours’ granddaughter who took over with her chants of wisdom yet her speech was more casual. She spoke in her mother tongue as a benevolent guardian much like their mother. However, that same night, their father was killed by a creature of unknown origin. An outbreak had occurred and they had no clue that this was the beginning of a rogue attack.

The loss of their father left both Makurai and Mahogany devastated yet Tsuki was always taken aback and focused on Omo. None of the coming minor attacks to the village would faze him as he only remained concerned about Omo. That was all he could see.

Finally, at the peak, when Omo was 12 months, it happened. The final attack that would decimate Reisse and leave it unrecognisable—Arson. The night of the new moon following Omo’s 12 month consisted of a fire attack that burned down the village. Once alerted of this, Mahogany was informed to take the children and leave. Of course he was defiant at first but Jenissent was already sick and dying. He had to...and so he did.

This escape was how they found the current village they inhabit. Pfera.

The kids:

“Botashi wa omoshiroi hito desu!” Omo.

A whimsical and imaginative Child. Omo is a rather hyperactive ten year old that can turn anything into a game with his ability to think obscurely. This is why he was branded ‘Omo’ as in ‘omoshiroi’: Interesting/funny. He hasn’t yet been kept up to speed with the details of his past due to his age but no matter what, he’ll always be looking to play and cheer up his older siblings.

“Soreto boku wa, Usotsuki desu!”

Liar(Tsuki):

Excitable yet untrustworthy. Shitpost and honest? He loves to tease and torment his bigger brother (Maku)— the classic imp. He came to the bar to collect a fallen Makurai but ended up staying due to the conflict. He’s taken interest in Nephilim and John the wanderer as they bring the most conflict. His temperament is unknown. His weakness is cute things such as: Sprinkles.

He and his siblings are the guardian monster hunters of the village. They go by different names as said heroes. He is “The Liar.” His favourite armour is a cloak of invisibility but it glitches out often.

On the inside however, he’s mentally unstable and very sensitive. For a while now, he’s used this ‘alter ego’ as it were to protect himself from being harmed by people. His only safeguard is his family in which he doesn’t need to explain as they know him well enough to tell how he is feeling.

He’s also developed a need for power and a complex of sorts in which he strives to gain power so that he can be important due to his discomfort towards his own identity. He’s aware that his façade will always hurt other people but sometimes will still feel guilty enough to apologise. However, being so self aware of his corrupt moral compass has left him opened to the unexpected, namely being loved unconditionally by his current peers at the magic school. That and the transition of falling in love with two people is now something he must adjust to and finally get comfortable with accepting another family into his life that loves and cares as deeply for him as his biological one.

“M-...murihito desu.” Makurai:

He’s rather shy and suffers from asthma as well as fear of blood and monsters. He’s easily frightened and has a weak heart so hunting monsters is his hell. As a result, he tends to run away often and as he’s branded a coward, he often gets bullied by those of the village. His nickname is ‘Impossible’ Because he’s a pessimist.

At a young age, he wandered off and got trapped within a monster’s nest. There, the babies hatches and one found it’s way into his ear. It nestled itself into his brain and has laid dormant ever since until that one fateful day he ran away to the bar. The chocolate milk producing serotonin ended up waking the creature up. That was his first instance with the beast that sleeps within.

Generally he’s rather calculating but too much of a coward to be upfront and/or abrupt. As such, he tends to be the secondhand to his Older brother who leads the whole team without question.

“Masta Kurai.” Mahogany.

From a young age, he’s always had the urge to help those who could not do it for themselves. From his mother, to his siblings and now leading them as a team. He takes all burdens on his shoulders as the sacrificial substitute in the hopes that nothing will befall his precious siblings. He almost never thinks of himself, catering to analysing the needs of his family instead. None of it is ever a bother. Though he may be considered strict and critical, his siblings never doubt for a moment that he loves them dearly. As such, he will openly display affection towards them and ‘mom’ them in public just because he cares so much. His siblings are his life and he would gladly give his life to protect them– they of course will never let that happen.

He was given the nickname ‘Masta Kurai: Master Dark’ as an homage to the dark authoritative yet protective aura he gives off.

————

As the boys crouched over the new burial of their Mother’s remains, sobbing, a voice appeared to glide on the wind. Caressing their ears.

Mahogany could feel as though delicate hands were cupping his face.

“*My darling....you’ve done such an exceptional job raising the boys...do not weep or fear...you’re a natural born leader and I’m so proud of you...I will continue to watch over you...my little warrior...*”

The voice then shifted to Makurai. He had covered his face, tears dripping through the cracks of his fingers. The sorrow. Such profuse sobbing. The gentle tone of her vocals made it through however. He felt a soft grip on his wrists.

“*Makurai....my sweet child....to struggle so much and still remain standing...I know you don’t think you support Mahogany enough but you do...I’ve seen everything...you will continue to bloom and I will be watching...you’re doing fine..*”

Her words then shifted to Tsuki. His own grief lost within lack of memory. Her face was so blurry...this place...so dear yet he could only feel it within himself. Nevertheless, he clutched his chest. Tears pricked at his eyes. A single one falling yet his eyes remained screwed shut. He trembled.

A light hold graced his cheeks. “*Precious little Tsuki....you don’t need to remember me...but I’m also proud of you...you’re ambitious....you’re strong...yet troubled by so much...it has pained me to watch you struggle...but I know that you’ll be okay...you’re capable of so much...please remember that...your mother and father both believe in you to the fullest...my beautiful boy...*”

Little Omo, his face drenched by the watery pain of realisation. He’d known his mother was not of living...yet the picture of her remains imprinted in his mind...

A delicate embrace to the small child followed by a gentle hush.

“*Ssssshhhhhhh...I know darling...but I have never left you...you have never been alone...my quirky little Omo...I love you so much and have enjoyed watching you grow as well as you are growing...do not be afraid...with a heart of a hero....you will do great things...and your brothers are always right behind you...*”

As if taking place in front of them all, her voice followed through into their ears. Clear yet soft.

“*My precious boys....thank you for returning to me...putting me to rest...As I’ve said...I have never stopped watching over you. Your father and I couldn’t be prouder of the men you are all becoming...we are with you always...until we meet again...I love you all more than words can convey...please...stay safe my children...farewell for now...*”

And with that, her presence vanished. The subtle warmth of love fading appeared to break the hearts of the boys. They broke down further, uncontrollably sobbing. Tsuki and Makurai weakened to kneeling to which Omo started wailing. This triggered them all.

After having cried their hearts out for their losses, they instinctively gravitated towards each other. Huddling upon the grave. There, they fell asleep.

————

Liar’s arc progression:

-Villainous Joker (comic relief)

-anti-hero (Mikhail added)

-Lovestruck (double realisation)

-suffering sanity

-grief

-Cursed darkness (kidnapped saga)

-Last chance for good= empty/acceptance

-Chosen Darkness (final resolve)

-Questioned existence. (Need for power. Under the Goddess’ light)

————

“Ye of holy white. The tides. moon. The night. *

I summon you on behalf of my faith.

Grant me your power. I give my being in return.

Blood to Blessing. *

Bloema, heed my call.”

Bloema’s prayer.

—————

Bloema: demi-Goddess of the Moon. Pale water only works when she’s around her sister, Tsula. She was created by the corrupturer and normally goes for impish individuals. They normally obsess over her due to how quickly she can get into your mind hence why her following became a cult.

Personality wise, she’s much like Enoshima Junko in erratic personality. She can go from lazy mom to bumbling little sister in seconds.

When she and her sister are around, pheromones start to fly.

-Off-white pink tinted eyes. Her aesthetic is basically the reflection of a full moon’s night sky in water. Her fringe is loose yet the top is up and the rest is down. Pearlescent hair with a lilac tint.

#my ocs #my ocs stuff #drawing archive #MAGIC SCHOOL

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justanotherwannabeclassic · 7 years ago

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Finding Neverland (7/?)

Summary: History has a funny way of repeating itself. Juliet Jones learns this the hard way as she finds herself thrown decades into the past, and tasked with ensuring that her parents fall in love. (CS movie redux) Notes: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I've been up to my ears in completing my CSBB. Good news: it is completely written, and only in the editing stage now. So keep your eyes open for that. It will begin posting mid-August! But because that is over, I have more time to devote to this story.Writing Finding Neverland takes longer to write than many of my other stories, mostly because I am cross-referencing with Season 3...a lot. So I can only write certain scenes when I have access to that information. But no worries. I very much love this story, and intend to finish it. Read on AO3. Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] Nearly twenty-eight years ago, Gideon Gold thrust a sword through Emma Swan, nearly killing her if not for the power of True Love. It's an event that's haunted Gideon for much of his life, ever since he discovered this truth when he was seven-years-old and the bully at school thought it would be "fun" to tease him with. He didn't believe him at first, but when he went crying home to Mother and Father they delicately talked him through a truncated version of the events, stressing that it was magic, he hadn't been in control, "it was like a curse." When he was older, he learned the full truth, and though it was true he hadn't been in control, the realization of what he could have been scared him.

It also scared other people – still does, if Gideon is honest. Through much of his life, people have looked at him with suspicion. Son of the Dark One, Grandson of Peter Pan and the Black Fairy. The apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, does it?

It's why he doesn't use magic. He fears that maybe everyone is right, and if he gives into it, he would easily be seduced by its power. It's what's happened to everyone else in his family, after all. Why couldn't it also happen to him?

He wants desperately to be good, to do good. It's why he became a doctor, because it allows him to help people, to save them even without magic and oppressive destinies. His whole life he's felt like the deck was stacked against him, that's he's had to fight that much harder to garner respect and to convince everyone else that he won't be like the more devious sides of his family.

He thinks that's why he's handled being in Neverland easier than Juliet. For all the darkness the town sees in him, with her all they see is light. Her lineage demands trust in a way his never will. He wonders how that must feel. Of course, it's harder when it's your family. Not that it's really them, the versions they know. But Juliet has always been exceptionally close with her parents, so Gideon understands that this dynamic is difficult for her.

And it's not as if he's also not dreading interacting with his family's past selves, because he is. It's why he's wandering around the jungle instead of marching into his dead brother's former cave. Gideon knows how his family's story is going to play out: his grandfather will die. His father will die. His brother will live, only to be ripped away his family, never to see Henry again. And unless they discover a way to get home, Gideon will be around to witness it all.

It's not something he realized when they first landed on the island. Then, he had only been concerned with maintaining a cover and thrilled to be on an exhilarating adventure with the woman he loves. It wasn't until after his own near-death encounter with Pan that things really began to sink in. And once the realization hit, he couldn't shake it.

Which is why he's clearing his head and not learning more about his dead brother, because at the end of the day, Neal, Bae, whatever the fuck people call him is dead and going to stay dead, and doesn't want hear everyone opine about it.

Not that he can necessarily explain that to them. He has to maintain a cover after all, and he knows that his disappearance will already put a dent in it. But he believes staying outside is better than going in, and to at least make himself seem useful, he gathers vine to help fashion ropes or whatever. That way he can at least be of help.

If anything, Juliet will be prying him about it later. If she cares enough to notice, that is.

Juliet has always been somewhat self-centered. He supposes it's something that comes when the world caters to you. Juliet, the princess. Juliet, the daughter of the Savior. Smart, pretty, powerful Juliet. No wonder she things so highly of herself.

At times, he revels in it, because it forces him to forget his own life when he wants to. He hates being the center of attention. She embraces it. But at moments like this, he wishes for her to be his anchor, not the other way around.

He supposes he's being a little passive aggressive. He could have told her earlier how he was feeling, but he's also not entirely sure she would have registered what he was saying. Especially since she seemingly forgot he also had family on the island.

He sighs, and continues to gather vine.

He knows they'll have to talk it out at some point. They'll put the entire timeline at risk if they carry on with their silent treatment. Of course, finding time to actually work out their problems is easier said than done. He's pretty sure that Emma is the only one that remotely trusts them, and a disappearance would be suspect.

Gideon finds himself longing for home in New York City, the apartment he both loves and hates, the one that his father bought him as a gift. "Gideon Gold, made of gold," is what some of his classmates once teased, jealousy in their eyes. He's never had to want financially for everything, and eats at him because it is unearned in every sense of the word. His father has money because he manipulated a curse to do so. Gideon accepts it, because it is easier that way, because it allows him study and work without worry, because it lets Juliet follow her own dreams.

He wonders if it makes him a villain, accepting that financial boon for selfish reasons. Do heroes thrive on empires built the suffering of others? Because Regina's curse caused suffering. The Dark One curse caused suffering. And Gideon is the one who benefits.

"If it wasn't for either curses, I wouldn't exist," Juliet had told him after he revealed his internal turmoil with her. "Yeah, a lot of messed up shit happened too, but good things too."

And he tries to remind himself of that, because he doesn't want to live in a world without Juliet Jones in it.

It's that thought that drives him back to his dead brother's cave, back to Juliet. Once they get through this mess, they can go home, back to New York and their apartment, back to the cat that steals his pillows in the morning, and back to the world where he doesn't have to worry about watching the people he cares about die. They can be back in their own little world away from magic, away from prying family members, away from it all.

But when he gets back to the cave, ready to present his vines that could be used as rope, his explanation dies on his lips when he sees Juliet's family march out of the cave, his girlfriend not with them.

"Where's Juliet?" he asks, trying not to let the panic bubbling in his gut reach his voice. Maybe she's still inside brooding.

"We thought she was with you," her grandfather says. "She went looking for you. Speaking of, where did you go?"

"She went out alone?" It shouldn't be a problem. Really. Juliet is capable. Juliet is strong. She can handle most everything life can throw her way. But this is an unfamiliar jungle teeming with bloodthirsty Lost Boys.

"Seems like it, mate," replies Juliet's father, and there's a hard edge to his voice, one that Gideon's heard him use around villains.

They don't trust him. He wasn't acting trustworthy, he suppose, but he can't dwell on that. Not when Juliet is missing.

He half expects her to march back out of the jungle, and tease him for worrying. But that's not going to happen. He's not sure how he knows, but deep down there is a feeling in his gut that tells him that something is very much wrong.

Their plan is unraveling.

His world is unraveling.

Gideon is afraid.

-/-

Juliet is missing and Romeo is panicked. There is something Shakespeare in the entire situation. Emma would otherwise laugh if the situation didn't seem so dire or suspicious.

She knows what this looks like. Romeo had disappeared without word, and though he has vines around his shoulders, it doesn't seem like a good enough reason to stay behind, especially without telling his girlfriend. Already untrustworthy, this has done nothing to help his cause, and Emma can tell by the way Hook taps his fingers on the hilt of the sword he is readying for a fight.

But there's something in the way Romeo is reacting now that gives Emma pause. He may be a good actor -- it's not the first time someone has tried to mislead her with a sob story -- but Romeo is genuinely worried. He hadn't expected to return to find his girlfriend missing.

But is she even missing? Juliet went looking for Romeo. For all they know, she could just be lost. Which, admittedly, isn't the best scenario either. Not with the Lost Boys running around. But Juliet should know that, which raises the question: Why did she go in the first place?

Why did Romeo go?

"We need to go find her," Romeo stresses to them, his voice panicked.

He's not acting. He's jittery, and not in the "I'm lying" kind of way, but in the way that says "I'm scared." Emma knows the feeling well.

"What we need to do is find my son," Regina says from behind her. Emma knows the tone that Regina is using, the one that leaves no room for argument. She won't go help Romeo find his Juliet.

And, honestly, neither can Emma.

"Regina is right. We can't delay searching for Henry any more than we need to," Emma tells Romeo. Her mouth tastes like ash. She's not sure why she feels so much remorse at being unwilling to save Juliet, especially when the life of her child at is at stake, but she does.

"But she's..." Romeo's voice trails off, as if he remembered something he couldn't say. "Fine. Go after Henry, but I am going to find Juliet."

Emma doesn't argue with him. She knows it will be of no use, and if he's plotting again then, he wouldn't be so insistent on going away, right? She feels to instinct to reach out to him, but holds back. She needs to find her son.

Emma watches as Romeo turns away from them, his expression hurt, when to both of their surprise Hook steps forward.

"Wait," he entreats Romeo, waving his hook in the other man's direction. Romeo doesn't startle at the movement. "You're unfamiliar with the jungle. Let me come with you."

"You can't!" The words slip out before Emma can stop them. Hook looks back at her, his eyebrow raised in question. In explanation, she offers, It's dangerous, and besides, we need your help here."

"Why, Swan, I didn't know you cared," he replies, swaying into her space. Before she can answer that she doesn't, not in that way at least, he tells her, "You don't need me to find your boy. I have the utmost faith your family's ability to find one another."

"But—" She's not sure why she's arguing, except that she wants him with the group. He knows the island better than anyone.

"Emma, I'm going with Romeo," Hook tells her. "For one, he needs our help. Secondly, should he and his lass be plotting anything, it's best that I'm there to put an end to it."

He says his second point in a low voice, a clear effort not to let Romeo onto their plan.

"Fine," Emma resents. There's no arguing with him anyway, the stubborn man. "But we need a plan for you to come back. Meet up back at camp in a four hours."

"As you wish, milday,” he says as he tilts in a fake bow. It something that would normally make her roll her eyes. He tries so hard to pretend to be the gentleman pirate. Unfortunately for him, few see him as such.

“If he’s going, I’m going,” David cuts in, walking over to stand beside Hook.

“David!”

“You can’t be serious,” Emma says, surprised by her father’s sudden eagerness. Her mother looks upset too, worried for his safety.

“Hook’s right,” David says with a significant look. Emma knows he heard what Hook said about Romeo. “Strength in numbers, right?”

Emma doesn’t argue about strength in numbers for finding Henry. If Hook’s worse fears are correct…no, she won’t think about that.

“Four hours,” she stresses. Hopefully, they’ll find Juliet unscathed by then and she will have further discovered a way to save Henry.

Just four more hours.

-/-

These are the things to know about Juliet Jones: She does not believe in choosing favorite colors, but when asked by strangers and acquaintances, she will say red. She has strong opinions about Russian literature, and even stronger ones about French artists. She is afraid of both clowns and cows. She enjoys watching old television shows, so much so that she once had a marathon of every doctor show she could find just to needle him. She is not a morning person, but she loves morning sex. She is messy and leaves towels on the floor, half-drunk cups of tea on the table, and never puts away her boxes of cereal that she eats without milk. She sings showtunes in the show. She is exceptionally close with her family.

The last point is most important.

Under normal circumstances, if she were to disappear nearly three decades in the future, it would not be strange to be hiking throughout a jungle with her father and grandfather in search of her.

"I will find you." – that’s her family's motto. They will find her, Gideon, her father, and her grandfather. Only the latter two people with Gideon on his hunt don't even know their relationship to the missing women, that their blood runs through her veins, and if it is spilled, it will be theirs as well. They don't know, and because of that, they're half-hearted in their search. If they remember this, will they regret it? Will it haunt them that they didn't do their best to protect a person they love because they didn't know her?

"Juliet!" Gideon calls, because his heart is pounding in his chest. He has nothing of hers that is on his person, no trinket he could use to cast a tracking spell to find her. He would break his vows for her, would do so in a heartbeat if it meant keeping her safe.

He understands his father in that moment, how intoxicating magic can be. It tempts him. Gideon feels it calling to him. But if he cannot find her, what could would it do?

His father never gave up his dagger for his mother. Maybe this is why.

"Juliet!"

"Keep your voice down," grunts her father. "Do you want to draw all the Lost Boys to us?"

"What if I do? What if they have her?" Gideon is combative, itching for a fight. He is angry. He is scared. The last time he was with her, he wasn't speaking to her.

I love you. I love you. I love you. That's what he should have said.

"If they have her, they certainly wouldn't parade her around in front of you," her father argues.

Gideon wonders what he'd say if he knew Juliet was his daughter. Back home, in the future, he is protective, too protective according to Juliet. The Killian Jones that Gideon knows would be out for blood. Nothing would stand in his way. Gideon finds himself longing for that man.

All in all, the Killian Jones that Gideon knows, the one that is three decades older with more than enough gray in his hair actually does like him. Or so Juliet says. Gideon isn't quite sure. When he and Juliet had made their relationship public to the family at large in Storybrooke after months of secretly dating, Juliet's father had taken him aside and said the normal fatherly things.

"She's half my heart, you know," he had said.

And when Gideon had months ago arrived at the doorstep of Juliet's childhood home, a speech planned and ring in hand, her parents had given their full blessing, not that he entirely needed it. But since she's exceptionally close to her family, he asked anyway. Later, when Juliet's mother was taking care of other matters, her father had taken him aside and gave him a different speech, reminders to honor and respect and love her fully.

"She may be half of your heart, but she's all of mine," Gideon had said.

"Good," was Killian Jones' reply, and he clapped him on the back in approval.

The Killian Jones with Gideon is not going to clap him on the back. The Killian Jones with Gideon does not know half his heart is missing, and they're on a rescue mission to save her.

"Listen, Romeo, I know how terrifying it is to be separated from the woman you love, but we have to keep our heads," says Prince Charming.

He would know. Curses, different realms, more curses have separated him and his wife. Gideon and Juliet have never been separated like this before. When they are kids, yes, but that was before they were "them", before their first kiss outside of a bookstore in the rain, before he purchased the ring that's thirty years in the future nestled between his socks and underwear in his suitcase.

But because there is a first time for everything, Gideon is far too on edge to be calm and rational. Currently, his behavior is anathema to his usual state – "Cool as a cucumber," Juliet says – but he doesn't wish to dwell on it.

"Would you be keeping your head if this was your wife?" Gideon asks. He turns to Juliet's father. "What about if this was Emma?"

"Emma and I aren't..." Hook says, his voice trailing off because he knows it is a lie. Gideon knows it is a lie. This is where her fell in love, per Juliet, per Henry's book, per Gideon's own witnessing of the past few days.

But he's perceptive and Charming is not, because Charming cuts in, "They're nothing and it's going to stay that way."

Wrong. They'll be something. They will be something here, and they'll be something in the future, and in that future they will have a daughter who they'll name Juliet. She will grow, she will idolize her parents' love, and one day she will fall in love herself.

And then she'll disappear into a jungle.

But Gideon cannot say that, and it drives him insane. He wonders if they knew the truth if they would fight harder to find her, not be complacent with just wandering around the jungle for her. This is someone they will love.

But he can't tell them that, because it would throw the timeline into a tailspin, even more so than he's already done.

He tries to remember what's supposed to happen. The story ends with a curse, with his father and grandfather's death, with goodbye. But before then? He's never been as religious about reading the stories as Juliet had been. But he's tried to listen to what she said.

This is where her father fell in love. He confessed his willingness to move on in Echo Cave in order to save Gideon's brother. He realized it after kissing Emma, a reward of sorts for saving her father who had been poisoned with Dreamshade – her father, who is with Gideon and Killian Jones now.

Is he poisoned?

"What if they poison her with Dreamshade?" Gideon asks. He's afraid they might, but he's more afraid of something worse.

Juliet's father looks grim, as possibility he is unwilling to admit. Juliet's grandfather looks confused.

"What's Dreamshade?"

Gideon feels sick. Juliet is missing, and they're barreling toward a future where she might now exist.

-/-

Emma is thankful her father isn’t here. She doubts he would be on board with her and Regina’s plan to get in contact with Henry. She could barely hold her mother back while Regina ripped out the boy’s heart – God, he had only been a child – and Emma knows she isn’t strong enough to stop David, as well.

Her mind keeps drifting back to her father and to Hook. She hopes they are wrong about Romeo, that Juliet is safe, and that they will all come back together as a team stronger and more effective at stopping Pan and rescuing Henry.

But there’s a non-small part of her that fears that they just might be playing into Pan’s hands. Emma’s seen enough horror movies to know that splitting up rarely goes well for the heroes. But they couldn’t allow Romeo to wander around Neverland alone (again), and Hook had been adamant about going.

She tries not to dwell on why she’s so worried about Hook. He’s a survivor. He’s kept himself alive on this island and God knows where else for centuries. He’s been hit by a car and lived. He’ll be fine. And God help Romeo if Hook isn’t.

Not that Romeo and Juliet’s story is going to be a happy one.

“It’s strange isn’t it?” her mother asks as they wait for the Lost Boy to return to Pan’s camp to deliver the message. “Juliet disappears without warning Romeo, just in the play.”

Her mother has been trying to distract herself from just what they’ve done, choosing to focus on the other matters at hand, but her eyes keep flicking to the heart Regina is holding.

“Are you saying if she dies, he’s going to poison himself and she’ll get all stab happy?” Emma asks, not wishing to consider the end of the story. If Romeo and Juliet aren’t villains, they’re just two people caught up in a very unfortunate situation.

“I don’t want it to,” her mother quickly corrects, looking somewhat horrified at the implication.

“Just because Shakespeare ended the story that way, doesn’t mean their will. I mean, look at Pan. Look at you.”

“I don’t understand why you both are so worried about them. They could be trying to kill us for all we know,” Regina interjects. She holds the heart in her hand, watching for what, Emma does not know. “They could be helping Pan keep Henry.”

Emma doesn’t feel like arguing about this again. Besides, there is no point in doing so. Regina’s set in her beliefs regarding Romeo and Juliet. There’s nothing Emma can say that could change it, and regardless of their disagreement on the issue, Emma understands. Regina is worried about Henry, and will not let anything stand in her way.

Something Emma should also be focusing on.

God, she hopes this plan works.

And it does. It does. Because no sooner was she hoping that Regina is whispering further orders into the Lost Boy’s heart, speaking through him to Henry their son. And then they are huddled around a tiny mirror, and she can seem him.

Henry is alive, but tired, but she can see him. He’s not safe, not by a longshot, not while he is on the island, but he’s here. She’s looking at him. Emma wants nothing more than to reach through the mirror to take him into her arms and pull him to safety. Instead, she comforts herself by telling him it’s Operation: Cobra Rescue. They are coming for him.

He will not think he is alone.

He will not think he is forgotten.

He will believe he is loved.

But then—

“There’s someone coming. It’s Pan. He has someone – a girl. I’ve gotta go. I love you.”

And just like that, Henry is gone.

#cs ff #cs au #cs canon divergence #captain swan #s writes fic #s writes finding neverland

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