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ursuburbanmother · 9 months ago

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I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter Four

Pairings: Angus Tully x fem!reader

a/n: did you guys know fifty dollars back in ‘66 was like five hundred dollars??? I didn’t and now I wish I never did. Anyway I kinda just wanted to explore more of Angus and Y/n relationship before the event of the holdovers. So a little backstory on this one. I maybe got carried away. Also this is a long ish chapter cause I have MAJOR exams to take so yeah :0 it might be while till I update again.

Word Count: ~7.5k

Enjoy!

Four Years Before - June 12th, 1966

Your parents had fled to Barbados for a destination wedding which they would follow with a cruise they claimed to deserve. Although it was one of those rare occasions where they had extended an invitation, you had declined. The prospect of being able to stretch your legs on the couch without worrying if you would be crushing some unknown guest, or to be able to walk into rooms without crashing into a waiter passing out shrimp puffs, was much more appealing. You had been left behind with fifty dollars for your fun fund, as your mother called it, and a kiss on the forehead. The nanny your parents kept on retainer would check up on you occasionally only to find you were much better at cleaning up after your messes and doing ordinary tasks than your parents. She’d leave after a few hours and then over the course of the first week she stopped coming.

You had prepared yourself for a month of solitude after Angus had announced he’d be spending his vacation at a tennis camp in Montauk. You must have been reorganizing your bookshelf for the third time that day (once by alphabet, then by color, and finally by size) when you heard a knock at the door. The sun had just begun to set, the sky colored a purple-blue, and you cautiously decided to take your fathers golf club. You dropped the club shortly after opening the front door to find not the face of Norman Bates but of your best friend. You scanned his tear-stained face. His eyes were glossy and his cheeks rosy, like when one stands in the snow and is attacked by the harsh winds that nip at your skin.

He collapsed into your arms, and you are quick to hold him steady. He was crouched over, having had a growth spurt a few months earlier, making it hard for you to look at him eye to eye.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

It was the summer of ‘66, where paranoid parents were starting to believe rock music would possess you. Ironically, it was the year Pet Sounds came out and you couldn’t stop rewinding the songs on your turntable. And most significantly it was the summer you spent with Angus.

He broke the news through jumbled words and choked down tears. How his father had been placed in a Mental Health hospital and how taking him to camp was just an excuse to make sure he wouldn’t be there when the people from the hospital came to pick his father up. They had apparently come early, mixing the dates up.

“Does your mom know you’re here?” You asked, hugging his torso.

“No. I'm sure she’ll be coming to check soon though,” he sniffled, “She’ll probably try to drag me to Montauk anyway and say that ‘it’ll be good for me’.”

You kiss his curls, “What if you stay here?”

He lifts his head up, “I’m not sure she’ll let me.”

“I think she will,” you reassured, “I am a very good guilt-tripper.”

“You can try if you want. How much did your parent’s leave you anyway?”

“Enough for both of us, don't worry. Even if we run out, we could whip something up to eat.”

His eyes widened, “Let's stick to take-out.”

Your house was the first place Angus’s mother looked in, just like he had predicted. He hid at the top of the stairs, staying away from his mom's line of sight as she pressed you for his whereabouts. You had been truthful about how he wanted to spend the next few nights here.

“Are you serious? I’m not going to leave two fourteen-year-olds alone, unattended, unsupervised! God knows what you’ll get up to.”

“We’re not going to do anything!” you argued, “We’re smart enough to not light the house on fire and to dial 911, in case we happen to. Angus just wants to be away for a little while. You should understand why,” you glared.

She looked down, shuffling her heeled feet.

“Besides, you take him away now he’s just to keep coming back here,” you sighed, stating the obvious.

She cleared her throat, coughing as she nodded, “Fine. Alright. Uhm- just make sure he calls me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you do your best to stop yourself from slamming the door in her face. "Bye.”

“The coast is clear,” you shout to Angus who came barreling down the stairs, skipping the last few steps.

“Did she look mad?”

You shrug, “A little. But she'll move on.”

He hums, agreeing as his eyes flicker around the room. He’s looking at the house he must have been at least a thousand times, whether because you invited him or because your parents did. And for the first time in either of your lives… it was completely silent. …

That first night Angus slept on your bedroom floor on a mattress you had dragged from the guest room. You had only your lamp on, and your window was open just wide enough to bring in the refreshing summer air. You were reading a few pages of your book to Angus, and when you glanced down you saw his eyes beginning to close.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. You have a nice voice is all.”

“Thank you. You do want to go to sleep though,” you observe.

“Should I turn off the lamp?” He says almost immediately. He lifts himself up slightly so he can reach your bedside table and waits for your permission to turn it off.

“Yes please.” You settle deep into your duvet. You turn to the side that faces Angus and wish him goodnight.

A few minutes later he speaks up again in a whisper. “Thank you again. For letting me stay here. I'll be out of here by next week, swear.”

“If you could, I would want you to stay here your whole life.” He scoffs at your words as you lean up with the support of your elbows to stare him down. “I’m serious. I only wish I could live in a house with you. Except somewhere far away from here.”

“By the beach,” he adds.

“Yeah. On a beach so obscure they can’t even send us mail because no one will know our address.”

“Oh no. How would your parents ever send you the invitation for your debutante ball?”

“I guess they’ll just have to throw it without me.”

“Shame,” Angus sighs. “I would love to see you in a white dress.”

You pause and then crash down back into your bed. You admire the garland that hangs above you. It’s made of postcards your parents sent you during their many endeavors. In that moment you're reminded of them and turn to Angus. “Oh. About that. My mom told me to tell you to prepare to be my escort in a few years.”

“Already?!” …

You and Angus had fallen into a routine. He’d sleep way later than you, sometimes until noon, and you’d wake him when you got too impatient and hungry for breakfast. He’d stir and groan to the point that it was obvious he was faking before finally getting up.

You would carry what you could from your kitchen pantry onto the backyard patio and eat under the summer sun. It was like an all-you-can-eat buffet of fig jam, English muffins and sometimes pears from the tree that stretched over your neighbor's fence. Afterward you and Angus continued your day in the green grass. He would sprawl himself out on a picnic blanket and read a comic book, wearing shades that were on the verge of tipping off his nose. Meanwhile you would tend to your mother's garden. You’d put on her straw hat too, just to make it feel like you were with her.

When you were little, you’d pull the weeds out of flower beds as your mom pruned her lavender. It was her dearest plant, and she treated them so, regularly nursing it to keep it alive. She’d motion for you to come with her and pick up the shears from the gardening shed. Eagerly obedient, you did as she said, and you would work together until called for lunch. Your mother was always a vivaciously elegant woman, always knowing the right things to say and charming anyone she met. You often wondered why you hadn’t inherited her brilliance, the one that made her seem as if she was glowing in any room she inhabited. It was odd that she’d often claim her ability to converse was her greatest ability when the two got along best when moving in silence.

You did your best to care for the plant too. Before you mom left, she asked to handle their upkeep. You took your duty seriously, checking in on them every day until you saw one sign of disarray.

That summer was like playing house. And although you never admit, for the fear that he’d read too much into and freak, it was exactly as you had often dreamed it to be. June and July passed quickly, and you hadn’t even noticed it. You imagined a life where it could just be you two forever, away from your parents and outside of stifling Massachusetts.

You imagined a life in an apartment described as ‘quaint,’ by the realtor to disguise the incredible small square footage. You wondered if he would like to be in a city like New York or Chicago. Somewhere that was always busy, and the chirping of morning birds was replaced by honking cars.

By the time August had rolled around, you could practically hear the unmistakable sound of the school bell ringing in your ear, warning you of its proximity. Thoughts about the future had you asking Angus one bleary Sunday afternoon, “Are you nervous about starting high school?”

Angus was pushing you on the tire swing, trying to give you motion sickness by twisting the ropes of the swing and letting them untangle a second later.

“Not really. It’ll be like eighth grade just with more tests.”

“I guess. But aren’t you nervous about making new friends and stuff? What if we tangled ourselves into a web so deep that we can’t talk to other people normally.”

“Then I have done my job of keeping you to myself.”

“Haha,” you deadpan, “Seriously though. Won’t you miss having me to talk to?”

“Of course I will. But you’ll write to me and crap… right?”

“Of course,” you echo his words back to him, “You’ll visit me when you get the chance too, correct?”

“Eh. If I’m not busy.”

“Angus!”

“Yes! Obviously, I will.” He pushes you a little harder.

“I do want you to be more out there though. Don’t go sulking in corners like you always do. People would really like you if you let them talk to you for more than one minute.”

“You’re starting to sound like my mother Y/n.”

“Seriously though. Did you notice we’re always addressed as ‘Y/n and Angus’ by teachers. Never just Y/n and never just Angus.”

“Yeah. But I like it. It’s like Bonnie and Clyde. You can’t separate them because then it sounds plain wrong.”

“Okay Clyde,” you roll your eyes. You stop swinging, scraping your shoes through the dirt until you are still.

“I’m giving us two weeks before we break down to each other over the phone.” You lose the hold you have on the tire swings and let them drop onto your lap. You simmer under the sun and enjoy the breeze that flows through your hair.

“Don’t go replacing me when you get to your school.”

“Don’t worry, you got a head start seven years ago. No one else will be able to catch up,” you smile teasingly. “Maybe I’ll find myself a boyfriend though. About time for the both of us, don’t you think?”

He frowns, “You don’t need a boyfriend.”

“Yes, I do. Everyone else does.”

“Since when do you do what other people do? I think you should stop talking to people who peer pressure you,” he flicks your forehead.

“Why?” You rub your forehead, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?” You smirk.

“Gross! No! I was just kidding. Get a boyfriend, I don’t care.”

“You wouldn’t care if I got a boyfriend?” You look at him skeptically.

“As long as he treats you nice and shit,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“It’s just that we do everything together Angus. There are some things I would like to get over with that I can’t do with you.”

“Like what?” Angus wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“Like hold hands and go to bowling alleys or whatever.”

“We’ve done that.”

“I like…kiss,” you whisper, fidgeting with your hands.

“Oh,” he chuckles awkwardly. “So would you want to do that … now?”

“What!” You shout, leaping off the swing and walking a few steps away from him. “I’m not asking you to,” you clarify, shaking your head.

“No, but I would like to be over and done with it too… so maybe we should just…” He motions his finger between you two.

“Uhm,” you laugh, tilting your head, “Wouldn’t that be weird?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t mean anything. It’ll be just to check it off the list,” he shrugs nonchalantly.

“Um, yeah, okay,” you move closer to him in small timid strides. “You lean in though. I read that the guy is supposed to do that in my mother's Cosmopolitan.”

“Right, right,” he nods eagerly, interlocking your fingers together. With hesitancy he leans his head down and pulls you even closer to the point where you are bumping your noses. You close your eyes, and it's like your brain begins to spin like those show wheels with choices on them. Your brain tries to land on a feeling but loops on endlessly. His lips are softened by the humidity, and you don’t even notice it is over until a couple seconds after he pulls away.

When you think back on it, it really was the most 'first kiss moment’ to ever exist. It was more of a peck, both of you were bright red and shortly after you were as stiff as statues. Not knowing what else to do, Angus clears his throat and removes his hands from yours to wipe them on his shirt. “So, uh, what does your mothers Cosmo say to do afterward?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “I don’t know. I didn’t read that far.”

…

Christmas Eve - December 24th, 1970

After that summer, when you shared a weepy goodbye and headed off to your own high schools, it was undeniable that something had shifted between you both. Even if it often went unspoken. Neither you nor Angus had brought it up, but on occasion you would acknowledge it. Like last night after leaving the auditorium to return to the common room and pick up the dishes, your eyes drifted to the TV where a cheesy kiss scene was happening on screen. The two of you shared a knowing look that said, “That’s not how ours went down,” before shutting the television off and helping Mary into a more comfortable sleeping position.

You tried not to dwell on the past, but it was hard not to when the only thing in your childhood that had always been good, always been constant, was Angus. Every time you looked into his eyes it was like the decade you had spent together flashed by in a sequence of blurs. All he had to do was breathe a specific way in his sleep to remind you of some obscure memory that had died but he had brought back to life.

This morning you felt like you were ten again and Angus was trying to steal your bread rolls at Thanksgiving dinner. Except today he tried swiping your bacon as you shoved him off playfully.

“Get your own Angus,” you say playfully.

“I’ll trade you for my toast,” he offers.

Rolling your eyes you accept, grabbing the bacon and shoving it in his mouth, “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he says, muffled.

You munch on your toast and catch Mr. Hunhams stare.

“I see you two finally made up,” he comments with a sly smile on his face.

“Mm-hmm,” you cover your mouth with your hand as you chew and turn away embarrassed.

Mary joins you all a second later, emerging as usual with her coffee and a cigarette. She switches between eyeing the two men infront of her, “Why’d you two miss supper last night?”

Mr. Hunham and Angus freeze. “We went into town on, uh, some school-related business.”

“And you couldn’t call? You left me and Y/n out in the cold.”

“Yeah Angus,” you pout at him as he nudges your ankle under the table.

“Sorry,” Hunham turned to you, “And to Ms. L/n.”

“No worries. Really. I had fun,” you smile up at Mary who pats your shoulders gently.

Danny, a man you had been introduced to a few days ago, enters with a mop and bucket. You wave to him which he acknowledges with a slight bow of his head.

“Good morning, everybody.”

“Hi, Danny,” Mr. Hunham greets.

“Good morning. You can go on in and make yourself a plate,” Mary points to the kitchen.

“I just saw something funny,” Danny focuses onto your friend. “I walked into the gym, and somebody had vomited in there.”

Mary and you raise your eyebrows in sync.

“You don’t say. I don’t know anything about that,” Mr. Hunham feigns surprise.

“Yeah, me neither,” Angus wipes his mouth as he speaks.

“I’ll look into that right away. Thank you,” he dismisses the conversation.

“Mm-hmm. I see how it is. Trying to leave us out of your boy's club,” Mary tsks. Danny places the custodian supplies beside Angus' chair and walks away.

“Gross Angus,” you say, like it's his full name. You shake your head in disappointment. He nudges your ankle harder, shaking the silverware above. You fight back, beginning to use your hands as a defense. You two are soon in a game of tug of war.

“Knock it off you two! You are acting like fractious children!” Mr. Hunham scolds and stands up from his seat. Across the table, he tries to part your hands. “This is not how young scholarly men and women behave!”

You and Angus are too drunk on laughter to care. …

You and Angus are in a search for Mr. Hunham who stomped away upon realizing stopping you two was a fruitless cause. You intend to apologize; Angus intends to nod along as you speak. You follow the chatter you hear coming from the kitchen to find Mary replacing you as you as her sous chef.

“Hey that's my job,” you point at the potatoes Mr. Hunham is peeling.

“That’s the culinary industry for you. It’s cut-throat. You still want to be a part of it?” Mary peers over her glasses.

You run a hand through your hair, shrugging. “Um. Mr. Hunham?”

He stops his task, “Yes Miss L/n?”

“I want to apologize for my-,” Angus clears his throat, “Our behavior. You were right. It was very inappropriate. Emily Post would turn in her grave.”

“She certainly would. I accept your apology, however unnecessary. I understand it was that childlike spirit in you that is still intact that came out.”

You shoot him a quizzical look. “Uh yeah…”

Angus gasps behind you as he notices the tray of brownies on a table beside him.

“Brownies? God, yes. I want all of these.”

“Each of you just take one. The rest are for the Christmas party tonight.”

Angus snags you a brownie before practically chomping his down.

“What Christmas party? There’s a Christmas party?” He perks up like a dog being told he’s going out for a walk.

“Yeah, at Miss Crane’s house. I’m only gonna go for a little bit, show my face and say I was there. You know Miss Crane said she invited you too.”

“Who’s Miss Crane?” You ask, inspecting the brownie and wondering what Mary does so differently to get it to taste so good.

“School secretary,” said Angus with a full mouth. “Just one of the loveliest faculty members at Barton,” said Mr. Hunham at the same time.

A beat passed as you all noted the flustered expression that passed through Mr. Hunham face.

“Ah- anyways, she didn’t mean it. We were just making small talk.”

“If you don’t want to go, don’t go. I’ll take them.”

“Mary can take us,” problem solved, Angus thinks.

“Oh! Okay… so we are going! I packed a dress that’s been collecting dust in my luggage.”

“No, that’s not how it works. You’re under my supervision,” Mr. Hunham reminds.

“Okay, maybe it’s fine for you to sit around reading books all day, but I am losing my goddamn mind! Jesus!” Angus' suddenness makes you flinch. You avoid the flying brownie as he storms past you.

“Hey! Watch your mouth, young man. Not on Christmas Eve!” Mary yells after him.

“You, see?” Mr. Hunham points at his retreating figure. “I can’t trust him in a social situation.”

“Mr. Hunham, if you’re too chickenshit to go to that party, then just say so. But don’t fuck it up for the little asshole or his sweet little angel of a friend! What’s wrong with you? It’s just a party. What are you afraid of?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Hunham said so quietly you could hardly hear him.

“Shit. Now you’ve got me nervous,” Mary wipes her hands on her apron.

You’re still standing there until they hear you go retreat the brownie and throw it in a nearby waste bin. “I could replace those?” You laugh uncomfortably.

“That’s alright sweetie. I want to come out of this party with my reputation intact,” Mary winks.

“Ouch,” you clutch your heart jokingly. “So can I go get dolled up?” …

Someway, somehow, Mary had gotten Hunham to take you to the party. You got ready in the room Ye-Joon and Alex had occupied before. You hadn’t anticipated wearing anything fancy, so the dress you had was a relatively simple one. It was red which fit the Christmas theme well enough and ended just above your knees. You hoped Mr. Hunham wouldn’t make a big deal out of it like Ms. Orchard probably would. You wore flats and did your hair the best you could without products. Although you had managed to give it some more volume by using some leftover soda cans that had yet to be thrown out. It was a common hack all Janie Patrick School girls learned in their freshman year. It was practically a seminar, as the senior girls taught you how to roll them into your hair just right.

You waltz out of your room, feeling as fresh as a daisy and catch Angus shaving. You sneak up behind him, putting your hands on his shoulder and looking at him through the mirror. “What is there to shave Augie? You’re as clean shaven as a newborn baby,” you tease.

You try to check your makeup and feel Angus stiffen under your touch. You remove your hands and see him staring at you open-mouthed.

“What?” You panic. Had you screwed up your hair? Was your mascara too clumpy on your lashes?

“Nothing,” he gives you a once over as he gulps. “You just, you look, you… you look pretty.”

“Oh,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, “Thank you. It’s just the makeup.”

“No, it’s not that. You always look pretty; I just never have a reason to tell you. But I can… today.”

“You look handsome everyday too…” you fidget with your hands.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile up at him bashfully. Quickly you take the razor from his hands, “even more handsome once you change. We’re going to be late."

You run back to your room and try to regulate your breathing. In the reflection of the fogged-up window, you admire yourself momentarily. You suppose you do look pretty tonight. …

You four travel in Mr. Hunhams rickety car. You awe at the town Christmas lights before arriving in front of what you assumed to be Miss Cranes house. One by one you all enter, lingering by the front door like wallflowers. You inch closer to Angus, self-conscious suddenly. You loop your arms together when Miss Crane enters to greet you.

“Oh, hi. Oh, you made it! Welcome,” she pauses to address you and Angus, “Aw hi!”

“I'm so glad you're here,” she tells Mary.

She laughs at the flattery and refers to the brownies, “Where should I put these?”

“Um, oh,” Miss Crane lifts the cloth draped over the tray and gasps, “Those, I’ll be putting on my bedside table.”

“Oh! You're a wicked woman.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” she takes the tray off Mary's hands.

“Certainly a lot of people here,” Hunham comments, surveying the room. It is lively with Christmas classics blasting on the radio and kids running around playing tag. The entire house is decked out, almost looking like the spirit of Christmas had barfed out the decorations. Some adults take a swing of their liquor, others smoke, others do both as they chat.

“Yeah, yeah. Some family, friends from town. Only you guys from work.”

“That’s my mom on the couch,” She points to an older lady sitting by the silver and blue Christmas tree. Next to the woman dancing with her toddler who wears no pants. “Uh, that’s my sister Kathy and her son Marvin.”

As she continues to point out each invitee you wander with Angus further into the living room. He seems captivated by a snow globe on a mantel. He shakes it and watches as the snow falls around Santa. You too are enchanted by the sweet melody that plays from it.

“Angus!” Miss Crane snaps you both from your trance. Miss Crane stands next to a girl who appears to be around your age.

“This is Angus Tully. He’s one of our students at Barton. Angus, this is my niece, Elise,” she introduces.

“Niece Elise. Nice,” he glances at you, hoping you got the joke as Elise rolls her eyes at his word play. You give him a tight-lipped smile. “And is his friend Y/n L/n. She goes to the school across the lake from Barton. Janie Patrick’s.”

“Nice to meet you,” you stretch out your hand for her to shake. She does so awkwardly.

“And this is Mr. Hunham. He’s one of our finest teachers. History, right?

“Ancient Civilizations, yes”.

“And this is Mary Lamb. She’s the manager of the cafeteria.”

You don’t know why, but you start chewing your nails. A habit you had thought you had broken in the seventh grade. You bite down particularly hard every time Angus glances at Elise.

“Hey, why don’t you take Angus down to the basement and introduce him to our family tradition?” Miss Crane has a hint of something you can’t identify in her voice.

“Come on,” Elise tilts her head and hesitantly he seems to follow.

“Um. What about Y/n? Can’t she come?”

“Don't worry about that! I have someone I think she would like to meet,” Miss Crane nudges you forward.

“Oh?” you say worriedly.

Elise takes Angus away by the hand and distantly you hear him call out, “Wait what?”

“His name is Joseph Leery. He’s a freshman at Yale!” she gushes.

“Oh? Great? Go bulldogs? That’s the mascot, right?”

“Honey, save your charm for him!”

…

Angus descends downstairs. He repeatedly glances behind him, desperately searching for the remaining bits of your voice. “Um. Maybe I should go back upstairs? My friend Y/n doesn’t do so well with crowds so.”

“Nonsense! She’ll be fine. If I know Auntie Lydia, she’s probably introducing her to the Leery's son, Joe.”

“Joe?” Angus scowls at the name.

“Yeah. Family friend of ours.”

Elise leads him to an arts and craft table, full of scattered red, green, silver and white pipe cleaners. Glitter is spilled everywhere, and the kids take their time decorating their popsicle sticks.

“This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I grew up playing down here during my aunt’s parties. I think it’s kind of cool. There’s a purity to it. I mean, every child is an artist. The problem is remaining an artist when we grow up. Picasso said that.”

“Picasso’s cool,” Angus digs his hand further into his front pockets, “I saw Guérnica once. You know, the big mural, with the horse,” He tries to mimic it as best he can.

“Yeah, I know Guérnica. You really saw it?”

“Yeah. At the Museum of Modern Art in New York. It’s huge. My dad took me.” And Y/n too, he wants to say. Although if what Elise said was true, that Miss Crane fancied herself a modern-day cupid, then he figures he should try not to scare her off by bringing up another girl.

Although it's hard not to think of you when he thinks of his dad. His dad liked puzzles which you happened to have a plethora of that your parents had bought you to keep you entertained during long plane rides. This was before they trusted you enough to leave home alone.

In the winter you’d sit by the fireplace and lay out the puzzles of Monet’s Water Lilies. Then when the spring would offer you limited warmth, you’d all be found in the backyard of Angus’s house trying to piece together Van Gogh's Starry Night.

So many art inspired puzzles eventually had Angus’s father turn to you both and asking, “How would you guys like to see these in real life?”

That easter break had you three crammed into a yellow taxicab and enjoying New York pizza slices.

“Hey Guérnica,” she breaks through his nostalgia plagued mind, “You just gave me an idea,” she smiles.

…

Mr. Hunham stands by the funky-looking Christmas tree when he feels someone’s lips crash onto his cheek.

“Oh!” He says shocked. He feels as if he had just been dumped into a cold bucket of water.

“Mistletoe!” Miss Crane laughs, pointing at the little green and red plant that hangs on the ceiling. She hands him the Jim Beam he asked for earlier as she wipes the side of his face clean to get rid of any lipstick that might have been transferred.

“Yes, of course,” he laughs along, unsure of what else to do but to let her caress his face. “I didn’t you know you were quite the mastermind.”

Miss Crane tilts her head and motions him to elaborate

“Playing matchmaker for Mr. Tully and Ms. L/n.”

“Oh! Well, when Angus said they weren’t an item I figured they’d were itching for a chance to mingle outside of their little circle. I hope I didn’t overstep anything. After all I imagine they don’t get many opportunities to openly chat with people of the opposite sex! Dating is crucial in shaping character.”

“Yes, I imagine it is,” Mr. Hunham agrees, unsure if that is fact or fiction. He is awful at letting silence just be silence, so he does what he does best. Spew nonsensical facts.

“You know, it’s interesting. Aeneas carried mistletoe with him when he descended into Hades in search of his father.”

“Oh. Huh…” Now it is Miss Crane who is unsure of what to do with that.

“Um. Anyways. I like your tree. It’s really space age,” he comments and is hit slightly in the shoulder by her enthusiastic hand.

“I brought it to commemorate the moon landing!”

“Really? Wow.”

Miss Crane takes a sip of her punch, “So where is your family this Christmas.”

“Nowhere. I’m an only child. My mother died when I was young.”

“And your father?”

“Let's just say I left home when I was fifteen.” If Mr. Hunham had known this was what small talk topics had evolved into, then he must have been right in avoiding social functions all this time.

“You ran away?” She guesses.

“Worse. I got a scholarship to Barton. And from there, I went to college and never looked back.”

“But you did a little,” she points out.

“Hmm?”

“I mean you came back here.”

“Ah.” He really did not feel like being questioned so heavily tonight. Not to pat himself in the back, but he believes he's credible enough to label himself as a decent writer, able to handle the equal weight of a pen and his words with ease. But as a conversationalist, he figures even one of the dimwits in his Ancient Civilization classes have him beat.

“It feels kind of like home I guess,” he muses, “and I guess I thought I could make a difference. I mean, I used to think I could prepare them for the world even a little. Provide standard and grounding that Dr. Greene always drilled into us.”

Mr. Hunham can feel himself run out of breath, “But, uh the world doesn’t make sense anymore. I mean it's on fire. The rich don’t give a shit. Poor kids are cannon fodder. Integrity is a punchline. Trust is just the name of a bank.”

“Well…” Miss Crane tries to soothe him by running her hand back and forth on his arm, “look, if that's all true then now is when they most need someone like you.”

Mr. Hunham knows when he is being humored and told what people he wants to hear. He looks at Miss. Crane and for the first time in a while he is looked back at with genuineness.

…

Elise and Angus finger paint on a wide piece of blank paper. He’s mixing the colors, and they all tend to come out looking a sickly brown. Elise covers her side with an untainted red. She seems to be more into it than him as she incorporates real swirls and shapes onto their canvas.

“Am I doing this right?”

“There is no right or wrong,” she reassures. He feels her stare linger on him for a second. He is scared to look up. “Are you okay? You seem… gloomy.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. But, uh, tell me about this Joe guy.”

She looks at him suspiciously, “Why?”

“Just curious. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of him around my school is all.”

“Well probably because he graduated over a year ago.”

“So, he’s in college.”

“Yes. A freshman at Yale.”

“Yale!” He shouts loud enough for even the kids to glare at him for disturbing their fun. “Sorry,” he apologies to them.

“Would you say he’s cool,” he asks a millisecond later.

Elise tries not to laugh at his blatant desperation, “Yeah I would say so.”

“Funny?”

“He's basically Gene Wilder.”

“The dude from The Producers?!”

“Yes, and he was also a football quarterback.”

“What.”

“And valedictorian, and the heir to the Campbell Soup Company.”

“What the hell? Is this guy superman or,” Angus takes a minute to recognize the smug face on Elise. Finally, she breaks out in a loud giggle.

“Oh,” Angus sighs in relief, “You’re messing with me.”

“A little,” she says through fits of laughter. “Anyways if you’re so worried why don’t you go back up there?”

“I was just worried that he would try something. But technically he sounds alright.”

“Ah. So, you’re jealous?”

Angus rolls his eyes, “No. I’m a concerned friend.”

“I’m not sure about that. Concerned friends don’t start interrogating the girl they are on a hypothetical date with.”

She leans down to point at a glob of paint in the corner of the paper, “I think you even doodled her name.”

“Shit,” he curses under his breath, going over it and trying to cover it up along with his embarrassment.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this was going to go be framed at the MET.”

“What are you implying anyway,” he narrows his eyes.

“You’re going crazy being gone from her for two minutes. What do you think I’m implying?”

Angus slumps his shoulders and admits what had been ignoring. It's like a message in a bottle he threw into the sea, desperately trying to avoid the shore. Even when it does reach land, the cap is tightly sealed, clinging on to the bottle and doing it best to remain unread. When it does pop open and the paper is unfolded, although it might be difficult to read, the message still exists. It still exists even though time fought so hard to destroy it.

“I do think about her that way. Sometimes. Then the rational side comes out and tells me that it's human nature for a girl and guy friend to think about each other that way.”

“Well, does she know you think about her that way?”

“No. Sometimes I imagine she feels the same, but you’d have to know her to understand why I’m so confused. She’s the most thoughtful, kind, and perfect person in the world. It's hard to tell if she’s showing that side to everyone or if I’m special enough for her to give me that treatment.”

“You know Picasso also said that ‘Everything you can imagine is real’.”

“Are you Picasso's biographer?”

Without missing a beat, Elise smirks and says, “Yes.”

Angus is up the stairs without having thanking her, too fueled by adrenaline to practice basic manners. He’ll have to tell Miss Crane to pass on the memo. He’s on the hunt for you but is yanked into the house's kitchen by a mysterious hand.

“Hey?” He asks, disoriented.

Danny is staring straight at him, with both hands on either side of his shoulder.

“I need you to find Mr. Hunham,” he orders. Angus looks past the man to see Mary weeping heavily into the sink. Understanding, he nods firmly and is back out the door.

…

Joseph Leery is not half bad. He’s kind of funny, clever and not a bad person to pass the time with. You sit in the back of Miss Crane's living room on a couch all to yourselves. He tells you how he’s majoring in English in hopes of becoming a journalist.

“What kind of journalist?”

“Investigative. I would love to be the next Upton Sinclair. Or Seymour Hersch.”

“Ew! The Jungle made me so sick for a week after. It was so gross.”

“I know but that's what made it so great. Exposing the meat packing industry probably put him on a few hit lists too.”

“Oh yeah definitely. So, then who are you planning to expose?”

He laughs, “I don’t know yet. Is there any chance you’re planning on becoming some corrupt politician?”

“Not in the foreseeable future. I’ll let you know if I ever do,” you giggle.

“What are you planning to do then?”

“Then? Um... Like as president? I don’t know. Fund schools-.”

“No,” he laughs harder, “I mean like with college and life. Do you have anything planned out?”

“Erm, not really. My parents probably want me to go to the Ivy Leagues and crap. I should have a plan, I know, but I guess I’ve been putting it on the back burner.”

“Why?”

You shift in your seat. “I have this friend. He’s sort of had this rocky life, not I haven’t, and I know it's stupid to mold your entire life to fit around one person’s but for him I would.”

Joseph sniffs and straightens his posture. “Sorry. Lydia didn’t mention you having a boyfriend.”

“No, I don’t,” you stress, “I just really care for him, you know. We’ve known each other for so long. He’s important to me.”

“Y/n have you ever read Persuasion?” he asked suddenly.

“Um, not yet. I know the gist of it.”

“Well, it's ultimately about regret, right? Anne spends eight years longing for Wentworth when she could have been with him instead, had she not given into pressures. The point of the novel is not to wait to love the person you’re sure is it for you.”

“Love?” You hear someone say above you. You look up to see Angus, his arms stiff by his side. He glowers at Joseph. You jump off the seat and on operating on some strange reflex you go to fix his shirt collar that has stood up.

“What's wrong?”

“What were you guys talking about?” he interrogates.

“Books. Why?”

Angus doesn’t buy it but ignores the gnawing feeling in his gut, “Mary needs us in the kitchen. Go ahead, I still need to get Hunham.”

“Oh…Alright,” you turn and wave to your brief companion. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah maybe,” Joseph lifts his canned soda as if to say cheers.

You walk on ahead as Angus loiters behind, silently scrutinizing him.

Joseph takes a sip from his coke and points towards the direction you disappeared to. “Your girl went that way man.”

Angus rolls his eyes but leaves, nonetheless.

…

Miss Crane and Paul are sitting next to each other, their drink half-finished. They can feel the red tinge on their cheeks and themselves becoming looser.

“Are you planning anything special for tomorrow?” Lydia inquires.

“No. Why? Are you having a…”

“No, I just thought maybe you’d be doing something special for Angus and Y/n.”

Mr. Hunham shakes his head and Miss Crane lets out a small gasp, “You should! Help preserve some of the magic. Angus may be a little difficult, but he’s still just a kid. So is Y/n. And life catches up to them so fast. Them,” she stares at her lap, contemplating. “Ha. Us!”

“You’re a very sweet person, Miss Crane,” he compliments.

Miss Crane melts, “So are you, when you want to be,” she quips, “and it’s Lydia.”

He enjoys the feeling of camaraderie between them. He feels a cool breeze at the back of his neck and the sound of the door opening.

“Excuse me for a minute,” Miss Crane gets up and moves past him.

Mr. Hunham turns in time to see a man take off his coat, a gift under his arm. A moment later Miss Crane is there to receive him with a kiss. Together they walk away, and Mr. Hunham is left alone. Once again.

“Mr. Hunham, could you come with me, please?” Angus nearly trips as he stumbles over to the teacher.

“Yeah, what is it?” He sighs as he gets up with a groan.

“Come on, it's serious,” Angus leaps away. Peeking at him at the corner to see is Hunham is following, “Come on.”

Mr. Hunham is dragged into the kitchen, where he spots Mary, crying quietly to herself. Danny is next to her. You’re across the room biting your nails and hinting at Mr. Hunham to do something.

“Mary? You alright?” he questions, even though he knows it's in vain.

“Just leave me alone,” She mumbles.

“Want me to take you home?” Danny offers, placing what he thinks is a consoling hand on her back.

“Back off! Back off!” Mary whisper-shouts, her hands shaking down in anger. Mr. Hunham shuts the door, giving her privacy if nothing else.

“He’s gone,” she erupts into full on sobs. The mask comes off and she’s no longer Mary, the woman who appears to deal with grief like it was nothing but a bump on the road. Instead, it's Mary, who lost a son and whose grief has entirely consumed her until she can no longer breathe.

…

Angus and Mr. Hunham support Mary on both sides, as they make their way to the car. “I was right. This is why I hate parties. That was a disaster. Total disaster!”

“Speak for yourself. I was having a pretty profound conversation. I was about to make some serious life altering moves,” he blurts, angry and unable to believe his window opportunity was slammed shut. He had an internal plan. That'd he’d whisk you away from stupid Joseph and ask you to dance, maybe lead you to a mistletoe and see where it goes.

“With whom? The niece? Are you kidding me? This poor woman is bereft, and all you can think about is some silly girl.”

“I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.”

“I’m not talking about Elise; I'm just saying this is the first good thing that came from being in this prison with you.”

“Need I remind you it’s not my fault you’re stuck here? Do you think I want to babysit you? I was praying to the God I don’t believe in that your mother would pick up the phone, or your father would arrive in a helicopter or a submarine or a flying fucking saucer to take you-.”

“My father’s dead,”

“Angus-,” he hears you say but he holds up his hand for you to stop speaking.

Mr. Hunham stops dead in his rant, “But I thought your father-.”

“That’s just some rich guy my mom married. Give me your keys,” he sticks out his hand.

“It’s unlocked.”

Furiously, Angus stomps away. You excuse yourself from the two adults before doing your damnedest to not slip on the ice. Flats at this time of the year were not your best idea.

“Angus,” you reach him, tugging at the back of his jacket so that he’ll slow down. “Why did you say that?”

“Say what?”

“The thing about your dad,” you mumble.

“The way my mom and Stanley talk about him, he might as well be don’t you think?”

“You don’t mean that,” you scold. “What happened? Are you really this mad about Elise?”

“No. Damn it. I don’t even like Elise.”

“Oh,” despite the circumstance, you can’t help but feel giddy. “Then what is it?”

“You seemed to be having a pretty good time yourself with Joe on that couch.”

“Joe?” You cross your arms. “You mean Joseph?”

“Oh great. You have a nickname for him.”

“Angus, Joseph is his legal name, that's the opposite of a nickname.”

“I don’t want to talk about Joe,” he says. You both reach the end of the block where Hunhams car is parked. In the distance you see them come closer, their feet crushing the white snow.

“You brought him up,” you massage your temple. You think back of the endless list of books you have read, or the many movies you’ve watched. You scour through the genres. You think of how Joseph managed to connect to life. You think of the rewatch of Cactus Flower with Mary. How envious Ingrid Bergman character was every time she saw Julian talk to Toni.

“Angus, were you jealous of Joseph?”

He stops his ongoing struggle with the car handle, finally prying it open.

“Were you jealous of Elise?” he asks you.

You frown and fixate on the pavement; your nails dig into your palm as your hands turn into fists. Deafening silence engulfs you before Angus exhales heavily. Before you can speak, Mr. Hunham arrives and motions for you to scooch over so he can open the passenger side for Mary.

“Sorry,” you apologize and get in the backseat.

“Straight to bed you hear me,” Mr. Hunham warns once you are all buckled in. “Enough theatrics for one day.”

“Mmhmm,” Angus responds, but all he is doing is looking at you.

#angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully x reader

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tytarax · 11 months ago

Text

Lost and Found

Request by: @brethebomb2

Pairing: Kirishima Eijiro x GN!Reader x Bakugou Katsuki

Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of injury and memory loss, angst, eventual happy ending.

Word count: IDK, a lot

I literally cried writing this...

---

The air in the room was thick with tension, a palpable pressure that seemed ready to burst at any moment. Kirishima stood with clenched fists, his normally bright demeanor overshadowed by a deep frown. Bakugou, on the other hand, was seething, his explosive temper barely contained as he glared daggers at the other two.

"You can't keep doing this!" Kirishima's voice was low, but there was an edge to it that spoke of his frustration. "You can't keep pushing us away every time something goes wrong!"

You, caught in the middle of the argument, looked between them with tears in your eyes. "I'm not pushing anyone away," you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. "I just need some time to think."

Bakugou scoffed, his expression scornful. "Think about what? About leaving us? Is that it?"

"No, Katsuki, that's not it at all!" Your voice rose in desperation. "I just... I need to figure things out. I need to understand what I want."

"And what about what we want?" Kirishima's voice was pained, his eyes pleading. "Don't we deserve a say in this too?"

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air. You felt trapped, torn between your love for Kirishima and Bakugou and the uncertainty that plagued your heart.

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, Bakugou exploded. "Fine! If you need to figure things out so badly, do it on your own!" he snapped, his voice laced with bitterness. "We don't need you dragging us down with your indecision!"

You flinched, the words hitting them like a physical blow. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you watched Bakugou storm out of the room, leaving them alone with Kirishima.

Kirishima sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "He didn't mean that," he said softly, reaching out to cup your cheek. "He's just... scared. We both are."

You were waiting for a hug from your big teddy bear boyfriend... but instead of pulling you into one, Kirishima hesitated. His eyes flickered towards the door, where Bakugou had disappeared, and then back to the reader.

"I... I need to go after him," Kirishima said, his voice strained. "Give us some time... and space."

The hospital room was quiet, save for the steady beep of machines monitoring your vital signs. Eijiro sat by your bedside, his usual bright demeanor overshadowed by worry. Katsuki stood nearby, his arms crossed, a deep frown etched into his face. He arrived an hour before Eijiro did.

"How are they?" Bakugou asked, his voice low.

Kirishima sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Physically, she's stable. But mentally... I don't know if they're okay, Katsuki."

Bakugou's eyes narrowed, his fists clenching. "What do you mean?"

"Just that," Kirishima explained. "The doctors said they were hit very hard in their head, and they won't know if something happened until they wake up"

Bakugou's expression softened, a mix of concern and confusion. "Is there anything we can do?"

Kirishima shook his head. "They said we just have to wait."

You opened your eyes slowly, being blinded by the harsh lights of the hospital. You tried to move, but you felt a grip on one of your hands and a pressure on your chest. You looked to the side and saw an ash-blonde boy holding your hand, he was asleep. And on your chest rested the head of a red-haired boy, also asleep, with a little drool coming out of his mouth.

"Where... am I? What happened?" You asked confused.

Out of nowhere, both boys opened their eyes quickly, scaring you.

"Hon! I'm glad you're okay! You have no idea how worried we were" The redhead told you while the blonde looked at you in silence.

"Love? What are you talking about? Who are you?" You asked.

"You sure ask strange things, baby." The red hair answered you again.

"I'm serious, who are you?" You asked, now a little more alarmed.

"Enough! If this is revenge for our argument this morning, that's enough, don't scare us like that!" Finally the blonde shouted.

"The ones who are scaring me are you. I just woke up and I have no idea where I am, what happened, or who the hell you are!" Thanks to the commotion, the doctor in charge of you quickly entered the room, silencing everyone.

"Hello, ____. Let me introduce myself, I am Dr. Yosano" The doctor interrupted.

"Dr, what happened?" You asked a little more calmly.

"Well, you suffered a severe blow to the head… erm… could you excuse us for a moment? I have to ask them some questions," he said, addressing the two boys.

After what? 30 minutes maybe? The doctor came to the waiting room. Katsuki was resting his head on Eijiro's shoulder while he had his eyes red and sore from crying.

The two boys got up and approached him.

"Doctor, what's wrong with ____?" Kirishima asked.

"I'm afraid... your partner is suffering from temporary global amnesia after the blow they received on the mission." The doctor answered looking at some papers "This means that ____ will be unable to generate new memories, so the memory of the latest events disappears. They can't remember where they are or how they got here. They do remember they are pro heroes, tho. But I'm afraid they do not remember who you are. Which is weird considering you have been together for a considerable time"

"That's not... permanent, right?" Katsuki asked.

"Luckily not. This type of amnesia is temporary... what is uncertain," The doctor looked at both of them "is when they will recover their memory."

Kirishima was holding back his tears. "Is there something we can do?"

"Well, as I tell you, it's uncertain when they'll recover their memory. But one way to speed up the process is to take them to familiar places, where you've been through things together." The doctor said "At the moment, you should enter and present yourselves"

"You're right... thanks, doctor, for everything" Kirishima said as he reached for Katsuki's hand. "Let's go Kats"

---

Days turned into weeks, but your memories remained lost. Kirishima and Bakugou tried everything they could think of to jog your memory. They showed you photos, told you stories, and took you to places you used to frequent together. But nothing seemed to work.

"This is where we confessed to each other..."

"You really enjoyed the Christmas night we came to this cat café"

"Some days later we had our first time together here"

Those were the kind of things they mentioned to you, but... nothing came to mind.

One day, while out on a walk, trying to clear your mind, you encountered Hawks, another pro hero. He greeted you warmly, but you barely registered his presence. Something about him, though, sparked a flicker of recognition deep within you.

"Hey ____, how are you doing? Long time no seen." He said and was taken aback when you stared blankly at him, with a bit of confusion.

"I'm sorry, I was told I had an accident, and now I have temporary memory loss," You said explaining yourself.

"Oh boy... that's rough, how could someone forget me," He said exaggerating his tone, causing you to giggle. "Well then, I'm Hawks or Keigo Takami, and I'm one of your sidekicks"

As days passed, you found yourself drawn to Keigo's company. His kindness and unwavering optimism were comforting in a way you couldn't explain. Kirishima and Bakugou noticed the change in your behavior, and it didn't sit well with them.

"We used to be so close," Kirishima lamented one evening, sitting with Bakugou in your now not shared room. "Now, it's like she's a completely different person."

Bakugou clenched his jaw, his fists trembling with suppressed emotion. "I won't give up on her, Eijiro. I can't."

One day, you told Kirishima and Bakugou you were going to hang out with Keigo. As you sat with him in a café, eating something and chatting, you saw Kirishima approaching with a determined look in his eyes.

"____, can we talk?" Kirishima asked, his voice tinged with sadness.

You glanced at Keigo, who gave you a smile. "Go ahead, I'll be right here," he said.

Kirishima led you to a secluded spot, away from prying eyes. "I know you don't remember, but we..." he began, his voice wavering slightly. "We were a team, you, me, and Katsuki. We fought together, laughed together, cried together. We were... family... And now, without you... we're lost. Kats wasted a lot of weight... he's just not right, the day of the accident we had an argument and he was not able to say he was sorry..."

You listened intently, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart. "I'm sorry, Kirishima. I wish I could remember, but I just... can't."

Kirishima sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand. I just... I miss you, ____. We both do."

Back in Kirishima's and Bakugou's room, Katsuki sat alone, lost in his thoughts. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, not after everything you'd been through together. Determined to remind you of the bond you shared, he began to gather photos and mementos from your past adventures.

"Please, ____, remember," he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "Remember us."

Days passed, and still, your memories remained lost. Kirishima and Bakugou were running out of ideas, but they refused to give up hope. One evening, you were walking through the streets, and a familiar voice called out to you.

"(Y/N), wait!"

You turned to see Bakugou running towards you. "I-I have something to show you," he said, slightly out of breath.

Curiosity piqued, you followed Bakugou to his house courtyard. There, he had set up a makeshift projector, displaying chronologically organized photos of your entire life.

When you were a little baby in your parents' arms, you with your kinder-garden uniform, the day you discovered your quirk, the first day in UA, all your friends, the prom day, your closeness to both Katsuki and Kirishima, the vacation you had together in which you all confesed, the Christmas night, some kinda embarrasing pics Kats took after a night of pure passion...

As you watched, little scenes of your life together started flowing back.

"This is where we confessed to each other..." The hicking day...

"You really enjoyed the Christmas night we came to this cat café" We went to see the Christmas tree that night...

"Some days later we had our first time together here" That stormy night in the cabin...

"I remember...," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I remember you both."

Kirishima and Bakugou pulled you into a tight hug, relief and joy washing over them. "We missed you, ____," Kirishima said, his voice choked with emotion.

"I missed you too," you replied, burying your face in Bakugou's chest. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm the one who's sorry... but, just... promise you won't forget us again," Bakugou said, his voice gentle.

"I promise"

Masterpost

MHA Masterlist

#kiribaku x reader #kirishima x bakugou #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou #bakushima #xreader #fanfic #fem reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #trends

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pedroshotwifey · 7 months ago

Text

To the Flame chapter seventeen

Series masterlist

Pairing: Dark!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Chapter w/c: 2.6k

Chapter warnings: physical abuse, mental abuse, toxic behavior, infidelity, reader is suffering some severe depression among many other things, mentions of vomiting (not descriptive), trauma, unhealthy relationships, disassociation as a coping method, victim blaming, angst, hurt/comfort?, suicidal ideation

Chapter Summary: Javi takes something from you, again.

A/N: This should go without saying, but I am so, so sorry for how long it's been since the last update. I'm still not doing very well, but here's this, so. Yeah. Love you all and I beg you to forgive me ♥

****

It still hurts when you wake up, still an overwhelming pain throughout your entire body. Still a sore and swollen throat, throbbing head, and struggling lungs. It’s been almost a week, and nothing’s gotten much better. You’re still you. Weak, useless, aching you. And Javi’s still…Javi. Not Javi from the hospital, or your Javi from Texas, but Javi from the last few miserable months. Not rageful, exactly, but definitely distant and agitated. Enough so that you decide to steer clear.

You thought—hoped—for a minute that he really did change after that night. But you’ve come to understand that hope is a feeble thing. A foolish thing.

You mostly stay in bed all day, choosing rest—pretend or not—over facing whatever Javi might try. You think he may still feel a little guilty, and that’s why he lets you stay in bed. There’s no way he doesn’t—not after that. He tried one day to get you up, but you did your best to make it seem like you were exhausted, when really you were just terrified. You know what he was after. He was drunk and hurling names at you left and right. You’re surprised he didn’t take you anyway. No, he just left. Walked out of the apartment and let you shut your eyes again, too worn down to care.

He’s gone at work right now. You’re still in bed. It’s probably sundown at this point, but you don’t really know because you’ve been staring up at the ceiling for what seems like hours. He’s supposed to be back at nine tonight.

It’s Friday, which means that Steve and Connie will be coming over for dinner tomorrow. You should be making desert right now so you don’t have to do it in the morning. That would be the smart thing, at least. You should probably eat, too. You’re not sure when you last did that.

You feel a little sick if you’re being honest, probably from the lack of food and water. Being confined to the dark bedroom for days straight surely isn’t helping that either. You huff a sigh, ignoring the way your throat constricts around the air. You reckon it would feel a little better by now if you’d been using it—talking and drinking some fluids.

Before you can give yourself the chance to change your mind, you slip out of bed, your feet hitting the cold hardwood for the first time since yesterday morning or so. You drag yourself into the bathroom, leaving the light off as you pee.

You’re still groggy as you make your way into the kitchen, halfway in a trance as you sit down at the kitchen table. It’s going to take you a minute to fully wake up, but you know you should take your time so you’re not cooking half asleep. The last thing you need right now is another injury.

You watch the clock as you wait, your eyes following the small hands as they tick away at precious seconds. It probably won’t be long at all before he’s home. It’s already late—later than it should be with the time he was supposed to be off work. You know better than to think he’s working overtime.

You take a deep breath, pushing unwanted thoughts from your mind, and stand up. Keeping your mind numb has been getting easier as of late. It takes a massive effort, but you would rather have to do that than brew on your current situation.

It’s hard sometimes, when you get caught up in it, to fall asleep. It seems that night is the worst time for it. Your mind won’t turn off and you end up silently crying until your pillow is soaked and you have to turn it over to sleep when you finally stop. It spirals, your brain wracking up every pitiful thought it can to keep you falling down that damn rabbit hole. Past, present, future, there’s nothing you can think of to comfort you. Only regret and dread swirling around in your dizzy head at every cognizant moment.

Just like now, as you gather ingredients for PB&J from your cabinets and set them on the counter. You can see now that the sun has indeed already gone down, leaving the dull, yellow, overhead bulb your only source of light. The hue it casts makes you sick to your stomach.

You glance at the clock again. This may be the latest he’s ever stayed out. A sour taste forms in your mouth as you realize you aren’t worried. It’s a harsh realization. Such a stark difference from how concerned you were the first time he was gone like this.

But you don’t think about where he is as you make your food. It’s not that you don’t care, it’s just hard to convince yourself of it. He could be down the street or halfway across the world. He’ll come back. And you’ll be here.

You watch the clock as you eat at the table, the only sound to be heard the ticking of the hands and the occasional traffic in the distance. It’s enough for you to keep your idle mind undisturbed. Enough to keep zoning out.

It’s not until you’re taking your last bite that the phone rings, making you jump. It’s like you snap halfway back to reality, your vision focusing and your hearing coming back full force. You sit at the table, ignoring the ringing in favor of trying to get back to that safe place. You can feel your emotions knocking at the door, can almost hear them.

It’s a steady pounding, gentle enough for you to try to push it back, but prominent enough to make it difficult. You think you’re almost there when it suddenly stops and is replaced instead by the sound of metal jingling together. Almost like a set of—

And you’re back, completely and wholly alive in reality, listening to the phone ringing and your husband unlocking the door. Your breath picks up instinctually, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. It’s a lot, but you have to handle it. You think about trying to get back to the bedroom before Javi comes in, but he’s already closing the door behind him by the time the thought breezes through.

“Sweetheart?” You hear him call out. He must see the light on. The phone is still ringing. You wish it would stop.

“In here,” you rasp. That name coming from his sober tongue feels like a stab to your chest.

His footsteps start to head your way, steady. Your stomach twists, but you’re not sure why. He doesn’t sound drunk.

“Javi?” You call again even though he’s almost to you. He walks through the doorway not a second later.

He stands there and watches you for a moment. You know you must look like a mess. But all you can focus on right now is how clear his eyes look, how present he is. He’s there with you. You feel small as you get up from your seat and walk to him with tears swimming in your eyes. You recognize how pathetic it is as you wrap your arms around him and start to cry into his chest, but you do it anyway. He’s there. You’ll take what you can while you have it.

He stands still for a moment before reciprocating your affection and holding you back. But when he does, he molds you to him, leaning down a bit and rocking you gently.

“Shh, it’s okay” he coos, “what’s wrong baby?”

You open your mouth to respond, but the truth is that you have no idea. It doesn’t matter though, because that’s the exact moment the answering machine picks up. It’s faint from where it’s coming from the hall near the living room, but it’s the loudest and clearest thing to ever hit your ears.

“Hey, Javi, it’s Melissa. It was so much fun hanging out with you tonight! These last few weeks have been amazing, honestly. Call me back, I’d love to schedule another little date back at my place. ‘Kay, let me know, bye!”

You’ve stopped moving, stopped breathing, stopped crying. Javi’s frozen in place too. You’re just two people frozen in time, standing, embracing each other in the nauseating yellow light of your kitchen. God, you want to puke.

And then you’re heaving. You’re pushing him off of you, staggering back, trying not to scream and cry. Of everything he’s ever done to you…

“No, no, no, baby, please it’s not what it sounds like,” Javi tries to defend himself with rushed words as he steps carefully after you. You almost don’t hear him through the pounding of blood in your ears.

“Mm, mm,” you squeeze the sound out through your lips. You’re bent over, hands on your knees with your face toward the floor. Tears drop rapidly, blurring your vision but making clear droplets against the tile. Bile burns in the back of your throat, and you realize you really are about to throw up.

You head toward the bathroom. You don’t rush, scared of falling down. But you make your way there. Javi follows behind. He’s talking but you can’t hear a thing. He stands in the doorway when you get to the toilet, watching you get on the floor in front of it just in time to throw up all the content in your stomach.

He flips on the light and gets down behind you, petting your back in what could be a soothing manner if you weren’t trying to push him off.

“Getoffame” you moan, words streaming together. Everything feels fake again, but not in the way that helps tame the pain. No, this nightmare state is more like watching your husband in the damn yellow light of the kitchen as he takes you, unwilling, for the first time all over again. This time though, he’s taken something you’ll never try to understand, never try to forgive. He wasn’t even drunk. He was there tonight while you were alone and hurting.

He says something again. You have no idea what. You hear the timbre of his voice, feel it in your bones, and don’t care what words formed from it. You sit dazedly in front of the toilet when you’re finished, staring blankly ahead and wishing you would just die. What did you do? Why do you deserve this? Why is it you living through this right now?

“Get out,” you whisper. Almost too quiet to hear yourself. You come back again. Not completely, but enough so that you have to feel every ounce of hurt in your veins right now.

“Sweetheart, please listen to me—”

“Get out.”

He comes closer, too close, trying to decide if he should get you up or let you stay down.

“Baby, please get up so we can talk, I—”

“Get out! I fucking hate you, get out!” Your tears have dried, but your wail makes it sound like you’re still crying. It makes your heart clench in a way you’ve yet to experience as the words come out of your mouth, but you can’t take them back. You don’t even know if it’s true, but it feels like it is right now.

Javi stops for a moment, and you think for a second that he may actually listen. But then his hands are on your biceps, pulling you up with enough force to make you stand. He has you flipped around to face him and pinned against the counter before you can protest. It doesn’t stop you though, once you get your bearings.

Your hands are on him now, shoving and clawing and slapping against his arms, his chest, anything to get him away.

“Get out, get out, get out!” You’re crying the words again, over and over again to drown out anything that he tries to let spill from his lying tongue.

When his palm stings your cheek, you don’t even flinch. Your breath hitches, but that’s about the extent of your reaction. He can’t do anything now to hurt you more than he has already.

“Fucking listen to me,” he booms, taking the opportunity of your brief silence to let his words slice through. You’re too tired to do anything, too gone. You stare at him, ready to listen to whatever bullshit he’s going to try to sell.

“What the fuck was I supposed to do?” He seethes. “You didn’t want to get out of that bed, much less let me fuck you. I did it for you.”

At a loss for words, you stare at him. Did he hear the words that just came out of his own mouth?

“You slept with another woman…for me?” Your anger is starting to show despite how hard you try to quell it. It’s a strange type of anger, though, because you find yourself almost wanting to laugh. “You know, Javier, you told me a while ago that I’m a slut, but I’m pretty sure that’s you.” Your tone is cold, ment to cut through skin in a way you’ve never attempted before.

His jaw clenches, but that’s the only hint he gives away that shows you affected him at all.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true to make yourself feel better, carino.”

“Exept you fucking know it’s true, Javi! You fucked another woman! You put your nasty dick inside of a woman who is not me, not your wife!” You know you sound like a lunatic as you yell at him, but you don’t care. You’ve never been so angry, humiliated, and defeated at the same time. It’s an overwhelming rush of emotion. “And you say it’s because I was sick in bed? You fucking put me there!”

“Not on purpose, fucking christ! You make it sound like I want to hurt you, but you don’t understand that everything I have done since the day I met you, has been for you! It’s about time somebody tells you how much of an entitled, selfish brat you are. I do everything for you, and you don’t give a shit!”

Out of everything he’s said, you don’t know why those words cut the deepest. But you feel your cheeks heating with embarrassment. Are you acting like a brat? You look into Javi’s eyes, and you can tell the exact moment he clocks what happened.

“You act like a child, annoying and immature. There’s a reason I have to do the things I do.” His tone is softer now, soft like the tears streaming down your cheeks. You barely feel them. You think your subconscious is fading again, because your emotions start to go again until you’re simply numb. Maybe this is all your fault.

Through everything, you can’t hate yourself for it this time when you wrap your arms around him, silently begging him to hold you, to forgive you, to stay with you so you’re not alone. You don’t want him to be mad at you, and you don’t want him to really think you’re a child.

You want to kill that primal instinct that keeps giving in, keeps wanting comfort. This is wrong, a small voice tells you. You know it is. But the louder voice that says you need Javi over anything, is so much easier to listen to. It loves to tell you that maybe if you forgive these things, you can make everything good again. Maybe Javi can forget, too, and you can be happy again.

It takes longer this time for him to tuck you to him, but when he does, it feels like you can breathe a full breath again. In and out, in and out. He’s here. You can put everything that happened tonight in a little file in the back of your head, push it away, try to forget it. All you want is for things to go back to the way they used to be, so you let yourself pretend. You aren’t sure you can handle anything else right now.

You have a feeling, though, that you’re going to feel very differently in the morning.

******

Series taglist: @corazondebeskar @yorksgirl @nerdieforpedro @axshadows @melaninmommy

@survivingandenduring @kewwrites @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @missladym1981 @sofiparallel

@koshkaj-blog @sheepdogchick3 @movievillainess721 @jessie8605 @casa-boiardi

@justlulu @iamsherlocked-1998 @hjzghi-blog @glitterymanboy @letstalkaboutshtufff

@untamedheart81 @1nsommia @joelmillersblog @purple-rain8 @callachloe

@mangoslushcrush

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña #javier pena x reader #dark pedro pascal #dark javier pena #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #pedro pascal smut #angst #ttf #to the Flame

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marie-swriting · 1 year ago

Text

What If - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

Summary : After having an accident, Jake wants to live in the moment even more and take your relationship a step forward, but do you ?

Warnings : Bradshaw!Reader (Reader is Bradley's younger sister by two years), mention of plane accident, mention of deaths (parents and best friend), fear of losing loved ones, proposal, angst, sad ending, implied struggling with mental health, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 4.6k

French version

Song inspiration : Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift

You run in the hospital hallways, searching for room 322. Your anxiety increases with every step you take. Your destination seems unreachable. Your eyes are filled with tears but you hold them back. However, the second you walk through the door 322, they run free on your cheeks. Seeing Jake’s body laying down on the bed, hurt, doesn’t help to reduce your stress. Hearing you walking in the room, Jake gives you a big smile as if he didn’t almost die the day before. You get closer to him, examining him a bit more while wiping your cheeks. His left arm is in a sling, his head is bandaged and he has several cuts on his face.

“So, I heard you like bad boys,” Jake starts with a cocky smile, “is this good enough for you?”

“Jake, this is not the time to make jokes. You could have died!” you retort, sitting on the chair next to his bed.

“And I didn’t. I’m here and alive.”

“And hurt.”

“The fact is I’m alive. Thanks to your brother.” he specifies, showing Bradley with his chin.

“At least, we now know who is the best pilot.” your brother jokes.

“In your dreams, Rooster, I just wanted to test your ability to react quickly.”

“You’ll do your pissing contest later, tell me how you’re feeling.” you ask, still panicked.

“I’m fine. I almost don’t feel anything thanks to the meds. Y/N, I am fine, really.” Jake promises you, taking your hand with his right one.

“I’m gonna leave you alone.” Bradley informs you by pressing your shoulder. “Get some rest, Hangman.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Jake says once you’re alone.

“Trust me, it’s not just worrying. I really thought… For a moment, I was sure…” you stutter, a tear rolling down your cheek again.

“I know, I’m sorry. Come here.” he invites you, moving in the best way so you can lie down.

“No, I might hurt you.”

“I don’t care.”

Reluctantly, you get closer to the bed. You think of the best way you could get in bed without hurting him. Jake rolls his eyes before dragging you towards him with his abled arm. You find yourself next to him and you put your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his natural scent and the hospital.

“Don’t ever do that again. I can’t lose you.” you mutter.

“You won’t lose me. I promise.” Jake affirms, forcing you to look at him. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Jake.”

You give a small smile then you press your lips against Jake’s. Your kiss isn’t as passionate as it could be, yet it shares all the love you feel.

Once the night comes, you refuse to leave Jake. You literally beg the nurses to let you stay the night. At first, they insist on you leaving, nonetheless when you explain how scared you were to lose your boyfriend and how you can only stay in San Francisco for two days due to your job, they accept. Therefore, you’re currently on the chair in the corner of the room with a thin blanket. Jake wanted you to stay with him on the bed but you said you wouldn’t, you are afraid you might hurt him while sleeping. Your unimportant argument lasted thirty minutes but you stood your ground until the end.

Tired because of his medicines, Jake fell asleep in a few minutes. As for you, you stay awake, watching his chest rise and fall at the rhythm of his breaths. You don’t dare to look away, fearing that by doing so, he might stop respiring.

Notwithstanding, with the hours passing by and with all the emotion you felt, Morpheus comes to embrace you in his arms. At first, your sleep is relaxing though as soon as you start dreaming, your breathing quickens. You see Jake lying on the ground unconscious, you hear your own heart-rending scream when Bradley tells you about an accident, you smell the rain while the coffin sinks in the ground, you touch the tears on your fingers whilst you’re wiping your cheeks and finally, you feel your own heart that seems like it stopped beating in your chest.

You wake up jumping at that last sensation. You calm down your breathing while you stare at Jake, wanting to make sure he’s still alive in his hospital bed. You can’t see his chest moving, you panic then you stand up from the chair and run to him. Jake lightly opens the mouth before closing it several times and then changing position in the bed. Seeing him moving makes you sigh in relief.

Jake is okay. Jake is alive. Jake is not dead. Jake will not die.

No matter how many times you repeat those sentences like a mantra, your anxiety still doesn’t leave your body. Tears threaten to really stream down your face so you discreetly leave the room. Thankfully, the corridor is empty, allowing you to cry your eyes out. You hold back sobs as much as you can. If you sobbed, you would wake Jake up for sure.

You need a moment to calm down your tears. Seeing Jake hurt because of his work in the Navy overwhelmed you so much for several reasons. The first one being because you love Jake and you don’t want to lose him. The second one is because of the buried memories. Your dad died when you were still a baby and Bradley was only two. You don’t have memories of him but you know how much his death affected your mom. The loss of your father isn’t the only one haunting you. You also lost your best friend Lucy. You had been friends with her since you were four years old. You were inseparable until she enlisted in the army and died at twenty.

Receiving Bradley’s call about Jake gave you a glimpse of what your mother and Lucy’s mom went through, a trial you always hoped you’d never face.

Once you're sure you won’t fall apart, you go back in the room. By some miracle, Jake didn’t hear you leaving or entering, probably because of the medicine - normally, he’s a light sleeper. You walk back to the chair and stay awake the whole night, you don’t want to sit through another tragic scenario made by your brain.

The next day, you stay with Jake until the evening. You don’t want to leave him behind in the hospital, however, you have work so you don’t have a choice. Bradley promises you he’ll stay with Jake until his family comes during the week-end and he’ll keep you updated on Jake’s health. You only trust Bradley for this, you know Jake might not tell you everything to not worry you.

When you’re back home, you find your apartment dull. What is supposed to make you feel better can’t comfort you whilst in your mind, you get more lost in your deepest fears. The fact you’re in the process of moving out doesn’t help.

Jake and you are supposed to get a small house together. You should have the keys in two weeks, his deployment was supposed to be over by then. A few days ago, you were still looking forward to leaving your apartment and living with the man you love and now, you don’t know anymore.

Your relationship has always been exceptional, not only because he’s a good man but also considering that, before him, you wouldn’t allow yourself to date an army man. You always knew your mother as a half empty shell so you always wanted to protect yourself from the same deadly fate and the loss of Lucy didn’t help either. You’re already worried about losing your brother and Maverick, whom you consider as your uncle, you don’t want to risk losing your partner, too. Therefore, you had always refused to fall in love with a man like this. Before, you could do it until Jake appeared in your life; just like his personality, his entrance in your life was loud. You tried to resist it but your heart didn’t give you a choice so, for the first time, you broke your own rule. Your relationship with Jake is the most beautiful one you’ve ever had and you have no regrets about it. You used to have no regrets about it. His accident was a good reminder of how dangerous his job is.

Until you came home, you tried to shut down your fears and your doubts though, now, in your half-empty apartment, you can’t ignore it anymore. That night, you can’t sleep, your mind too busy to torture you.

Unfortunately for you, your mind doesn't give you one second of peace. The following days, you doubt your whole relationship with Jake, imagining the worst case scenarios in which he’d die during several milestones : your first house together, your wedding, pregnancies, anniversaries. The list never seems to end. You can’t be optimistic about it. You’re completely lost in your worries to the point where you end up living like a robot. You’re making yourself sick while anticipating the worst.

Your downward spiral is interrupted a week later by a knock on your door one morning. At first, you ignore the noise, comfortably staying in your discontent. However, when the person insists, you leave your bed and open them, not without sighing, annoyed. You’re about to tell the person to leave but the presence of Jake stops you. He wasn’t supposed to come back to San Diego right now and yet, here he is, in front of you, a big smile on his face and his left arm still in the sling and his wounds on his face starting to fade.

“Jake? What are you doing here? You still need to rest!”

“I know, I wanted to see you though and I couldn’t wait so I took the night train at the last minute. Can I come in?” Jake asks and you let him in, still surprised.

“Why didn’t you call me? I could have come during the weekend.”

“I wanted to surprise you. You’re okay ? You look under the weather.” he observes, stroking your cheek.

“I should ask you this, you’re the one who almost died not even a week ago.” you answer, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m better, Y/N. Even Bradley told you so. The recovery is gonna be long but I’ll be okay.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“I love when you go all mother hen. It’s cute.” he says, kissing your cheek and you let go of a laugh.

“You’re an idiot. Let’s go to the living room.” you invite him, starting to walk. “Do you want something to drink?”

“No. I just want to talk to you.” Jake informs you.

“About what?”

You frown when he prevents you from sitting on your couch. He slowly strokes your hand before taking a deep breath.

“Look, you know I always try to enjoy the present and with this accident, it really made me realise how precious what we currently have is. I don’t want to waste any seconds, I want to enjoy every moment with you. There is something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a moment now but I would keep telling myself it might be too early so I always pushed it back then I talked about it with my mom and she convinced me to jump in with both feet.”

“Jake, what do you mean?” you question, stress twisting your stomach.

“Y/N,” Jake resumes, looking deeply in your eyes, “since the second I saw you, I knew you were the woman made for me. I knew you were worth the fight, even if, at first, you wouldn’t pay attention to me. You’re the most intelligent, funny, compassionate and beautiful woman I know. We will have our own house soon and I can’t wait to reach this milestone with you but I’d love for us to reach another one.” he confesses, putting one knee down and your eyes are wide open.

“Jake.”

“Y/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“Wh-what ?” you stutter and Jake nervously laughs.

“Will you marry me?”

“Are you serious?” you question, dropping his hand.

“Huh, yes, I even have the ring.” he specifies, taking out the ring from his pocket, “Though I gotta admit, I think of saying it’s just a joke right now, you’re making me nervous.”

“I’m just surprised. I don’t know what to say.” you defend yourself.

Your eyes are set on Jake’s ring. You’ve seen it before. He’d shown it to you the day you first met his parents a year ago. It’s his great-grand-mother’s ring. It’s simple but you find it beautiful.

“It’s easy, say yes or no.” Jake replies with an anxious smile.

“Jake, we’ve only been together for two years.” you argue and Jake stands up.

“We don’t have to get married next year. We can be engaged for several years. We can wait before calling each other husband and wife, but I have to admit I’d love to, at least, call you my fiancée.”

“Jake, I can’t.” you end up saying.

“What, do you have a first husband in your attic or something?” Jake laughs and you see the panic in his eyes.

“No, I can’t marry you.”

Your sentence sounds like a fatal blow in Jake’s ears. He stays silent, staring at you without understanding what’s going on. He gets a grip on himself when his phone rings in his pocket. Jake knows it’s his mom. She knew he was going to propose today and she is impatient to call you her daughter-in-law. However, it looks like it won’t be the case. Jake opens his mouth several times before managing to utter something:

“What? Why?”

“I… I can’t.”

“But I love you, we love each other. You love me, right?” he asks, doubtful.

“Of course I love you, Jake, more than I ever loved before.” you promise him, making him frown.

“What’s the problem then?”

“I don’t want to marry you.”

If your first refusal already seemed awful to him, the sentence you just said is the final blow. The fact that you don’t want to marry him breaks his heart. He’s lost. It was supposed to be a joyful moment and yet, the ground is falling apart under him.

“What? Did something happen? Did I do something? I… I thought everything was fine between us.”

“It is.”

“Y/N, you have to stop being vague, I don’t understand anything.” he retorts with a strong tone. “What’s going on?”

“You should leave.”

“No, We have to talk about it. You can’t tell me you love me then tell me you don’t want to marry me. Talk to me, Y/N, you have to talk to me. Give me a reason, at least.”

“You wouldn’t understand.” you answer, avoiding his eyes.

“If you explained to me, maybe I’d understand. Are… Are you breaking up with me? Is that why you haven’t been calling me lately?” he questions, desperately searching for an explanation for your behaviour.

“I’ve just been thinking a lot and I think it’s best if we stop right now. I’m sorry, Jake, but I can’t keep being with you. You’ll find someone with whom you’ll share your life with and who will want to marry you.”

“I want it to be you.” he says with a weak tone, tearing up.

“Jake, please.”

“Very well then.” Jake accepts, hurt in his eyes.

Jake turns around and at the rhythm of his steps, your heart breaks whilst you’re looking at him walking to the door. You begged him to leave and yet, you only want to scream at him to come back to you and to hold you in his arms while you apologise. Yet, you stay silent. Jake doesn’t look back when he closes the door.

Once you’re alone, you fall down on your couch. In your head, you convince yourself it’s the best decision. After all, you should feel relieved, now, you don’t have to worry about losing Jake because of his job anymore. Nevertheless, your mind is not calm. You don’t know which way to turn but for different reasons. You wish it was different, it was easier, he had another job, you weren’t afraid. You spend the night crying while removing every trace of Jake in your apartment and unpack some boxes. You have to move on right now before you lose yourself a bit more.

You haven’t talked to Jake for three weeks. He tried to contact you but you ignored every one of his calls. He first wanted to fix your relationship before understanding it was too late, though he wants explanations, explanations you keep for yourself. You don’t want to tell him, you know it’s ridiculous. Why end a relationship given a potential “what if” when everything is fine? However, you also know if you had moved ahead with Jake, you would have ended up sabotaging your relationship. Technically, it’s what you did though at least, you didn’t have to call lawyers to leave his life.

Bradley tried to call you, too, and just like for Jake, you ignored him. Jake probably told him about your break up and Bradley, always being the honourable man, wants to fix the situation. Except the situation can’t be fixed. You don’t want to fix the situation.

When you come back from work that day, you’re surprised to discover your brother at your doorstep. Without thinking, you run in his arms. Sure, you’ve been ignoring him lately but you missed him. The last time you saw each other, you were too focused on Jake to pay attention to him. He holds you in his arms and strokes your back. As soon as you break your embrace, you let Bradley in. You go to your kitchen while talking about banality. Whilst walking, Bradley pays attention to your apartment and notices there isn’t a picture of Jake anymore. Once you’re sitting at the table, you stay silent, waiting for who will be the first to talk about the subject.

“We should talk about the elephant in the room, don’t you think?” Bradley says after a few minutes.

“There’s nothing to say.” you retort, tensed.

“Y/N, you threw away a two years relationship for no reason.”

“I have my reasons.”

“Which are? Jake is probably curious to know them.”

“If you came here to make things better, you’re wasting your time, Brad’.”

“You can’t act like that and expect to not justify yourself. You were happy with Jake, you love him and you broke up without giving a warning. I have to admit when he told me you refused his proposal, I was shocked. I thought you were gonna say yes without hesitating.”

“You knew?”

“He asked me before coming here. I confess, I laugh at him, I didn’t expect him to ask for your hand or give me a heads-up, like he said.” Bradley informs with a smile, thinking back to the memory. “Everything was good between you two, wasn’t it? So why?”

“It’s better like this. He’ll have a wife who knows how to stay and I won’t suffer.”

“Wait, is all of this because of the parents and Lucy?” he questions, understanding the reason. “You’re still with this stupid no-dating-army-guy rule? I thought we were over with it! Y/N, you can’t ruin your life just because you’re scared.”

“I don’t want to end up like mom! You can’t blame me! We were kids but you can’t deny there was a before and an after with mom. She wasn’t laughing like she used to, she wasn’t smiling like she used to. She was the shadow of her former self. I don’t want to go through this if Jake were to die.” you confess.

“It’s because of his accident, isn’t it?”

“It reminded me he could die at any given moment with his work.”

“Just like he could die off-duty. He can have an accident, have a heart attack, choke while eating. You don’t know what will happen in the future. You can’t condemn yourself ‘cause you’re too afraid he might die while flying. It’s ridiculous.” Bradley affirms, resolutely.

“I’m already afraid of losing you and Mav’ and I already lost Lucy and we lost dad, I don’t want Jake to join this list. Can’t you really blame me? I’d rather protect myself by not being afraid everytime my boyfriend goes to work.”

“Let’s imagine the worst were to happen, don’t you think it’d be better to think you spent every second with him? You’d rather live with regrets? You’d rather break your own heart?”

“At least, I know why I’m hurting.”

“Y/N, you have to think about it again.” he sighs. “You have to get out of your head that the worst will happen. You can’t prevent yourself from being happy because of what could happen. You deserve a beautiful life and to be with Jake. I never saw you this happy before and it kills me to see you throw it away because you’re scaring yourself.”

“The problem is I can’t help it,” you start with trembling lips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it when we first got together then it got better. However, since his accident, it’s been worse. Since your call, I keep imagining what could have happened and what could happen and I’m tired of it, Bradley. I’ll never get rid of it and I hate it but that’s how it is. Believe me, if I could change, I’d do it right now, but I can’t.”

Bradley hugs you as soon as he sees you crying. He holds you against him until your tears stop a few hours later. His heart aches seeing you hurting this much. He knows you’ve always been more affected by your father’s death. Being the youngest, the emptiness you feel about your dad has always been stronger. It got worse with Lucy’s death. That day, Bradley really saw you get broken. He hated every second of this moment of your life. He hates seeing suffering like you currently are. Several times, Bradley tried to help you, he advised you to go see a professional but you’ve always refused. Until now, he had hoped your fears would ease with time, yet, your relationship with Jake just proved him it got worse and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s completely distraught whilst he keeps holding you against him, hoping to give you some kind of comfort.

Two months have passed since your break up. You take it day by day to heal your broken heart. Bradley tries to stay with you as much as he can while Jake isn’t surrounded by anyone. He prefers to wear a mask and pretend your negative answer isn’t hurting him. Nevertheless, the second he’s home alone, his mask falls and he allows himself to feel all his pain. Jake, who has always done it, manages to fool everyone with his fake cocky smile. Almost everyone. Coyote sees right through him.

That night is no exception. Sitting at the counter in the Hard Deck, Jake is drinking his third alcoholic drink. Jake has isolated himself from the rest of the Dagger Squad, saying he’s tired and wanted to be alone. Though, Javy doesn’t let him be in the doldrums. He sits on the stool next to Jake and orders a beer from Penny. Coyote gives him some minutes of peace before speaking.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Coyote doesn’t even need to specify for Jake to understand. Your relationship has been a taboo subject for two months.

“Not really.” Jake says, taking a sip.

“You should.” he replies while Penny hands him his beer. “Do you at least know why she made this decision?”

Jake didn’t tell anyone the reason for your fallout. He feels humiliated enough by your harsh refusal to his proposal, he wants to bury the end of your relationship and never talk about it again. Though Javy is right, Jake knows he has to open up.

“Rooster talked to her. Turns out she doesn’t want to marry me because she’s scared I might die on-duty.”

“Did your accident scare her that much?” Javy questions, taken aback.

“It was the final straw but she’s always been scared apparently. I mean, I suspected it, you know, seeing what we do for a living, it makes sense. She also lost her dad and her best friend in similar circumstances. The problem is I didn’t know those deaths affected her that much. Anyway, there is nothing else to say.”

Coyote doesn't say anything for a moment, taking in the information and the way might have felt when he learned them.

“Well, she would have made such a lovely bride. What a shame she’s fucked in the head.” he says, ignoring what else to say.

“She suffered and she doesn’t want to go through this pain again, we can’t blame her. I’m not saying she should stay lost in her fear, it’s not healthy though, I get why she does.” Jake states before taking a deep breath and finishing his drink in one go. “I just wish she would trust our love more than her fears.”

Once he comes home, Jake sits down on his couch, sighing loudly. He runs a hand on his face, emotionally drained. As soon as his hand lands on his thigh, his eyes find a picture hung beside his TV that he didn’t have the strength to remove. It’s a photo he took at the beginning of your relationship, more precisely the day you told each other ‘I love you’ for the first time.

You had spent the day at the beach during summer. The sun was setting down whilst you were laughing at a stupid sentence Jake had said. He had stopped laughing before you, admiring you while you tried to calm your laughter. Then, Jake had looked deeply in your eyes and he had said those three words so simple and yet, so powerful. You had replied the following second with a big smile on your face. Before leaving the beach, Jake had asked to immortalise this moment. Thinking back on it, it was cliché and cheesy but Jake didn’t care. For you, he would have done the most cliché gestures if it could make you break a smile.

Jake keeps staring at the picture, your relationship running in his head. Without noticing it, he tears up before the tears stream down his face. It’s the third time he cries since your break up. The first time, it was the night of the proposal after he went home and the second time, when Bradley explained to him the reason behind your ‘no’.

Jake has never been good with his emotions. Between his education and his work in the army, he’s never learned to put words on his pain and to accept being vulnerable. With you, he had succeeded to understand himself better and to open up. It was still complicated despite two years together but he had improved. Now, he is back to square one. He’s back to his shell, running away from his emotions. Though, it doesn’t mean his mind isn’t haunted by 'what if's. What if he never had this accident? What if he had seen right through your fears sooner? What if he had managed to reassure you? What if he had managed to convince you to get the help you need? What if everything was different?

As for you, the questions are similar. Every night, you torture your own mind before crying yourself to sleep whilst looking at the spot where there once was the picture of your first ‘I love you’ before you ripped it off from your bedroom wall just like you ripped off both of your hearts from your chest.

Top Gun Maverick Masterlist

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poppadom0912 · 2 years ago

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Would it be possible to please request a Halstead!Sibling piece where the reader is the sibling, and during the late hours of the night, they get a really heavy nosebleed, so they come out of their bedroom to Jay and Will in the living room watching some TV with a few beers, and all hell breaks loose when they see reader is covered in blood and can't get the nosebleed to stop? Thank you!

A/N: I feel like I haven't written in years so I apologise in advance if this is rubbish. I also apologise for not writing this earlier, this was requested quite a while ago.

I am also aware I have posted in nearly three months but life is very stressful. I promise I'll try posting more once all my exams are over which is technically mid June. I'll try to get out all my finished drafts so you guys aren't starving.

Warnings: Blood, fainting/nausea, mentions of hospitals.

*****

For once in a long time, things were good.

Jay was mentally handling things and was starting a relationship with his detective partner whose name you kept forgetting but you remembered how pretty she was. Will wasn't making Ms Goodwin's life miserable and he was accepting that he was moving on from Natalie. And with you, school was better than ever with your grades and no longer letting anxiety stop your life.

Overall, things were the best they've been since your dad died and you couldn't be happier.

Neither of your brothers were at work and upon your incessant pleas, the three of you found yourself settling on the same sofa watching a movie.

At some point, you had to excuse yourself when your best friend messaged you in a rush about homework that you completely forgot existed.

Ignoring the darkness of the night and the comfy pajamas you wore, you completed the homework to the best of your abilities and shared it with her when she expressed her struggle.

Eventually, you lost track of time and found yourself tucked under your duvet reading the intense story on your kindle; homework safely in a folder in your bag for the next day.

Totally immersed in the heating up plot, you were oblivious to the very clear signs that you would usually catch onto had you been much more alert.

You only ever realised what was happening when several single droplets of blood plopped onto kindle screen, obscuring you from reading any further.

Confused, you let go of the kindle, letting it sit on your covered lap, your hands went up to your face, trying to find the source of blood but deep down you kinda already knew.

Removing your fingers from your nose, you glanced down and sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping at the sight of blood coating your fingers.

Rolling your eyes in annoyance, you kicked off your sheets and scanned your bedside table for the tissue box you always kept because of you hayfever and nosebleeds like this. But, it wasn't there and that threw you off because it was literally there the other day.

Huffing, your mind drew a blank at what to do as blood continued to fall steadily but it seemed that as the seconds ticked away, the stream only increased in speed.

In hopes of not ruining the rug under your feet, you held up your shirt to your nose, using it just like how you would tissue in this case.

Then, all of a sudden, your nose felt ticklish and the urge to sneeze became all too strong that you couldn't even say pineapple to prevent yourself from sneezing.

With no control, your grip on your shirt fell and you sneezed thrice. The pain in your nose throbbing and stinging, your eyes pricking with tears from the onslaught of everything happening all of once.

You were far too gone now. Dragging your eyes to your alarm clock, it took you more than a few seconds to read the time and work out whether or not Jay let yet but then you remembered Jay wouldn't have left without bidding you goodbye.

Well, even if he had gone which he should've seeing as it was nearly 1am, Will would've been the most useful in this situation.

Opening your door with your elbow so you wouldn't get blood on the handle, you walked towards the living room even if you were in a daze. You knew the layout of the apartment by the back of your hand.

Your feet pattered against the wooden flooring, alerting the other two inhabitants of the apartment that you were entering. Taking into account the late time, Will turned around ready to question why you were up at such a time on a school night when he froze upon laying eyes on you.

"Y/N? What happened?" Will asked straight away, getting onto his feet and coming up to you, lifting your chin in his hand so he could get a good look at your face.

Jay turned around to see why Will was asking you such a question when his eyes widened in alarm at your figure, pajamas practically drenched in blood and blood smearing your nose and upper lip.

"What the hell!" Jay shot up. "Why are you covered in blood?!"

"I'm having a nosebleed." You said plainly, boredly gesturing to your very bloody nose that Will was inspecting. "Duh."

"Jay, can you go grab my bag?" Will asked the middle Halstead sibling, not once taking his eyes off you.

Without any rebuttal, Jay did as the doctor said but not without mumbling under his breath about how using manners would get people so far in life.

"I have no idea. One second I'm reading and the next I'm bleeding everywhere." You shrugged, answering Will's question. "And then I sneezed three times."

Will hummed, your chin grasped lightly in one hand while the other was held out to Jay. Will asked Jay for certain things which he was given without a second thought.

"You most likely burst a vessel when you sneezed which made it much worse." Will said so nonchalantly, not at all bothered by the blood that was staining the gloves he put on with way too much ease.

"Alright, just hold that there for a few minutes." Your oldest brother told you, letting you take over from where he was holding the gauze. "Let's sit you down but don't get blood anywhere, I cleaned yesterday."

You looked at him dumbfounded but followed him to sit down anyways, Jay scoffing in disbelief at his words.

"Wow, you love me so much." You said sarcastically, a tight lipped smile on your chapping lips as you went back and forth with snarky remarks.

"This is a lot of blood though Y/N." Will addressed seriously, looking at just how much blood was covering your pajamas. "How long have you been bleeding for?"

"Like literally two or three minutes." You gave a very rough estimation, grimacing as you actually looked at the damage on your clothes, groaning in disbelief. "Ugh, these are my favourite pjs."

"Don't worry about that." Jay said, watching you closely from behind Will's shoulder so he wasn't in the way. "You dirtied your sheets or anything?"

You hummed in thought, squinting as you tried to remember. "I got blood on my kindle but I don't know about my bed."

"I'll go check." Jay allocated himself the job, finding himself useless as Will wasn't going to remove himself from your side.

"Okay, let me take a look." Will said under his breath as he carefully took the bloodied gauze away from you so he could replace it with a new one.

It was only a few seconds period of having nothing for the blood but it seemed that it wasn't dripping as it was. Alas, the uncomfortable urge to sneeze overcame you and you found yourself overwhelmed with the need to sneeze.

Without even registering what was happening, you sneezed twice, covering your mouth with your inner elbow instinctively.

You groaned, dragging it out at the sight of blood on the sleeve of your cotton shirt. Yep, there was definitely no chance of salvaging it now.

"Ooo, okay." Will winced, being as gentle but using as much force necessary when pinching your nose. "Either you're getting the flu or your hay fevers suddenly acting up in the winter."

Your shoulders slumped against the back of the chair, tired with your bleeding nose that wouldn't stop. At this rate, you'd be up all night because of your stupid nose.

"Woah!" Jay exclaimed, freezing in his steps as he entered the kitchen, eyeing the new mess that he luckily missed out on seeing. "What'd I miss?"

"I'm going to die."

"She's not going to die."

"Jay, Will's lying." You whined like a baby, dropping your head in exaggeration. "I'm going to bleed out and not live to see either of you get married. What a miserable life."

Both your brothers rolled their eyes at your dramatic self. Sharing a knowing look, having a silent conversation with just their eyes you groaned again.

"I want black flowers at my wedding and I want Trudy to do my eulogy because at least she'll miss me." You said, starting your funeral arrangements very seriously despite what your brothers were thinking.

"Perfect, I'll go on holiday then."

"You're not going to die Y/N."

You sighed dramatically, your voice was nasally, as if you had a severe blocked nose when in reality, it was just a really bad nose bleed that you were trying to stop. "This sucks."

"Yes it does but as long as you don't sneeze or blow your nose, you'll be fine." Will said, tossing the bloodied gauze and replacing it with another, letting go when you held it on your own.

"This is going to be a long night."

#onechicago #one chicago imagine #one chicago x reader #jay halstead #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead oneshot #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead #will halstead imagine #will halstead x reader #will halstead x sister!reader #halstead sister

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marymayday · 3 months ago

Text

No ones going to unpack flashpoint Joker and Batman and what it Implies about OG Joker and Batman.

Fine I'll do it myself.

Welcome to the brain rot take a seat and a glass of whisky cuz we are going to get deep in some mind slime. I'm going to write a fic on this eventually but I first need to get my initial ideas out of my head and on the page.

Also if you don't like batjokes your not safe here. DC thinks that it can just make a straight version of batjokes and not deal with what that says about OG B man and Joke boy. I AM THE CONSEQUENCES!!!!

Also, also I'm going to have Dick and Tim on Martha side and Jason and Damien on Thomas's so if you want to read about that it is coming. Shout out to @peachblossom-odyssey for this idea, I stole it from the bank of there mind and I'm now running with it.

(P.s Interesting that Martha is similar to Mother like in how you spell it)

Also, also, also another shout out to @bloodymary83 for a post about the similarities of Joker and Martha, Got the creative obsession going.

Ok if you want a simple version of these two it's a classic case of "I can fix her". All the while the fixer in question has massive issues but is soooo emotionally constipated he's shiting bricks. yer thay where doomed from the start.

Martha

Basically Martha's deal is that she was a woman raised in the kind of 40s where the best mental health facility was god dame Arkham. (yerrr not the best) She struggled with mental health issues for most of her life and was in and out of Arkham frequently. Not that it helped, there best attempt of a diagnosis was hysteria aka women be crazy. This gave her a bad reputation, but she didn't let that drag her down and became a very popular singer and actress. Bit of a party girl she was here for a good time not a long time.

Thomas

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa this guy, Shock to all being a wartime doctor doesn't do wonders for your mental. So what dose a wealthy traumatised man do. see a therapist, HELL no you fuck and drink the emotions away like a real American. Thomas was a good man he did use his wealth to fund hospitals and when out on to the streets to help those who couldn't afford healthcare. He had a strong sense of justice and believed in helping the weak. Unfortunately this resulted into a bit of a hero complex and viewing people more as projects more than people.

Ok that's my brief overview on there's two, more is coming.

#batman #flashpoint #martha wayne #thomas wayne #Thomas Wayne Batman #Martha Wayne Joker #jokes #batman au #bruce wayne #batfam #batjokes #toxic relationship #bad choices

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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 2 years ago

Text

Victor Creed Materlist

Disclaimer: stories are fictitious and should not be taken literally, the behavior is entirely imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Updated & repaired: 16/07/2023 (if a story won't load or something else, please message me and let me know)

MAIN MASTERLIST

Fluff🌺 Angst 🌩️ Smut❤️‍🔥

5/7 STORIES:

5 Times In Time ❤️‍🔥🌺

5 Little Things That Mean Love 🌺

5 Types Of Kisses 🌺

MY HEADCANONS W/ OTHER CHARACTERS:

Speak In Flowers 🌺 Flowers speak their own words and show their actions. And your man loves to speak it out loud.

Visiting Your Hometown 🌺 how would your boy act when you drag him along to your hometown

Helping You To Accept Your Stretch Marks 🌺your boy helps you accept your beautiful stretch marks as they are...pure perfection

Explaining To Your Man Kdramas🌺I (V) wrote small drabbles that paired my favorite men and dramas that I absolutely love

Dating A Tattoo Artist 🌺 being a tattoo artist and your boyfriend being part of it

When Tough Times Occur 🌺Life itself can be a pain and with its obstacles, it can seem impossible to overcome it but that’s what makes us stronger as people.

Someone Rubs You The Wrong Way With... 🌺 how would your man protect you when someone doesn’t mind your business

Having A Shower ❤️‍🔥having a shower with your man sounds like heaven right?!

One Thing He Loves About You (Physically Or Mentally)🌺 the title spoils the ending a bit

No Nut November ❤️‍🔥in the glory of No Nut November, you make a bet with your liver saying if they fail you cuff them and use them to your liking but if you lose they get to fulfil one of their fantasies. And you are keen on it to make them lose, by any means.

ASKS:

Dance The Night Away 🌺how would look if Victor's or Logan's S/O was younger and loved to dance

Remind Me That I Am Old 🌺a headcanon that would describe Logan's or Victor's S/O that liked to poke fun at them for being well...old

Cabin Fever❤️‍🔥Victor Creed lives in the woods. Reader after taking a walk in the woods gets lead into Victor's cabin and becomes his pet of sorts. He teaches the reader his rules for living with him and the reader breaks them.

Vacation Surprise🌺 requested by: @creedslove Y/n and Victor are on their long-overdue vacation and as they walk on the beach a group of happily married folks plants a confidence seed in Victor to ask Y/n the question of a lifetime.

Scratching🌺 headcanon well about, scratching

The Truth About The Titanic🌺requested by: @creedslove a message that could change a historic moment with Victor playing his part

PMS Pain 🌺 requested by: @creedslove small period pain drabble

Secret Admirer 🌺(teacher!reader) requested by: @creedslove For a while, Y/n has a secret admirer but she can't put a finger on who could it be.

No Boyfriend Here🌩️(sister!reader) Victor turns into a mindless machine making the biggest mistake of his life

Save Me, Neighbour 🌺I was wondering if you could write something for victor where he finds himself worried about his neighbour. They both live in a secluded area and catch a car driving by a lot at night

Speedy Recovery Help 🌺 Victor is there to give you a hand when you feel sick

Stressed Student 🌺 can I request Duncan Vizla, the Joker, Victor Creed and what would they do if they see their s/o down because they're stressed due exams?

DIFFERENT AUs

You Owe Me Dinner(Mobster!AU) date with the most fearsome leader of the Saber clan

DRABBLES FROM MY🧠

Tending To Victor’s Wounds 🌺Y/n plays nurse for Victor

Living Without You Is Like Living Without Air 🌺Victor received a call from the hospital regarding Y/n

NSFW Alphabet❤️‍🔥

Fluff Alphabet 🌺

Giving Victor Head While He’s On The Phone With Logan❤️‍🔥

Victor Creed Not Believing He Is In Love🌺

Dating Victor Creed And Being A Dancer 🌺

The Only Thing You’ll Be Wearing Is The Perfume ❤️‍🔥Victor likes to sniff his girl

Lovely 🌩️ Victor learns to grieve

Helping hand ❤️‍🔥Victor likes to help

Dance Partner 🌺in my opinion the cutest one shot i have written, absolutely love it-Victor invites you to dance

Get In Already 🌩️a small fight between victor and Y/n

It’s Alright 🌺Y/n has nightmares and wants to cuddle with Victor

Don’t Cry 🌺Y/n hides from everyone for one specific reason

Save Me 🌺🌩️Stryker kidnapped Y/n

Loving You Is A Wish Come True 🌺Victor tries to decorate the Christmas Tree. Keyword: Try.

Celebrating New Year with Victor Creed🌺

It’s Cold, You Should Take My Jacket 🌺Victor being the gentleman that he is he offers his jacket during the cold wintertime

First Date 🌺🌺the fearsome Sabertooth has a first proper date

Spending Christmas with Victor🌺

Victor Spending X-Mas With Y/n’s Family🌺

Kissing Victor Creed Under The Mistletoe🌺

Victor, Meet My Sister🌺

Dinner? 🌺Victor, Y/n, Wade, and Wolverine have dinner together

Come back to bed... 🌺

Story About The Sabertooth🌩️

Victor Creed taking care of you when you have your period🌺

Being A Model And Dating Victor Creed🌺

Wedding Date 🌺

His Dog Tags🌺

Date By The Shore🌺

Now I’m Someone Else Baby~ 🌩️Sabertooth make the worst mistake of his life

Victor’s Jokes🌺

It Wasn't Enough 🌩️Victor sees Y/n with another man after their breakup

I'm Waiting... ❤️‍🔥

Caught In The ‘Action’ ❤️‍🔥Wade interrupts

Victor’s Nicknames For You🌺

Being In A Relationship With Victor Creed🌺

A Grey Hair?! 🌺Y/n finds on Victor a grey hair and old man jokes ensue

Victor Meeting Your Mother🌺

Asgardian Mead By The Shore 🌺Y/n stands up for her Victor

Logan Finding Out Victor Has A Girlfriend🌺

Mornings With Victor Creed🌺

🕉️Yoga with Victor🕉️🌺

Drinking Coffee With Victor Creed☕🌺

How Would Victor Creed Kiss🌺❤️‍🔥

Defenceless 🌺

MULTI-PART STORIES

Cold Truth (PART 1 OF 2) 🌩️Y/n hurts to see Victor move on with another woman

You Didn’t Grieve (PART 2 OF 2) 🌩️🌺Y/n decided to visit Victor on her final visit to discuss his emotionless emotion

PICTURE IMAGINES

Victor Creed Pushing You Against The Wall, Kissing You Drunkenly🌺❤️‍🔥

Traveling To Istanbul With Victor And Showing Him The Culture🌺

Decorating The Christmas Tree With Victor🌺

Passing in Victor’s Arms🌩️

OTHER LIEV SCHRIBER CHARACTERS(Ray Donovan):

Someone I Can’t Hold Anymore (PART 1 OF 2)🌩️🌺

I Let Go Of You A Long Time Ago (PART 2 OF 2)🌩️🌺

#victor creed one shot #victor creed x reader #victor creed smut #victor creed imagine #sabertooth imagine #sabertooth x reader #sabertooth #liev schreiber #xmen #xmen dark phoenix #xmen apocalypse #avengers imagine #xmen masterlist #masterlist

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hughiecampbelle · 2 years ago

Text

72 Hours (Roman Roy Oneshot)

Character/s: Roman

Word Count: 1,409

Warning/s: hospital, hospital tw, mental health, mental health tw

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: This is something different lol. December of 2020 I checked myself into a psychiatric hospital :) It was scary and new, but it was definitely necessary. I don't think it should be a taboo subject. It's definitely not something my immediate family will or likes to bring up, but it's also not something to be ashamed of, y'know? Idk. I've been feeling bad again. Not like in 2020, that was- it was very bad, but still not great. It happens. Meds stop working. The heaviness sets in. I use writing to get through it, those bad feelings, so that's what I'm doing. Just know you're not alone when you're feeling bad. My inbox is always open, I am always willing to talk 💜💜💜💜💜💜

They are terrible thoughts. Horrible, repulsive, aching thoughts that feed off everything you are. They see the worst in you. When you’re done, that’s all there is left. The most repulsive parts of you. The bare, naked, scarred bones. You used to fear you were a bad person. A truly sinister, evil person. Now you don’t have to worry. Now you know. You are. Selfish, and evil, and a burden. Unlovable, unkind, undesirable. He doesn’t love you, not really, and he wouldn’t miss you. No one would. You’re sure of it. You’re so sure of it your bones ache. They long for the soil, muddy and rich. Your whole body wishes to be put to rest. To finally find peace. Being alive hurts. It hurts so bad sometimes. It takes everything out of you to roll from one side to the other. Things have taken up space in your bed. Books sleep soundly next to you, begging to be read. Notes, loose paper, begging to be written. You hope, in nestling with them, loving them even in rest, that they will save you from yourself. They will drag you out of this abyss you’ve found yourself falling in for a long time now. If there is a bottom, you haven’t found it yet. Every second of every minute you flinch, expecting your head to crack open, expecting your neck to snap on that solid ground. It never comes though. How much darker can things get? How much longer do you have before the light, the shrinking light, clouds over? You fear, when this is over, that everything will be gone. You will be gone. Forever. Your own mortality hangs in the balance. You claw at the rocky walls, your fingernails bloody, ripping apart. You scream so loud, for hours, but no one is near enough to hear you.

Is it my fault? Those are the first words from his mouth, the first thought behind those puppy dog eyes. You hold his face, his stubble scratchy in your palms. Did I do something wrong? You make sure your words are stern, but not scary, not angry. He bruises too easily, your peach. No. None of this is your fault. I just, I have to go away for a few days and figure things out. That’s all. 72 hours. Then I’ll be home. You muster a smile, the edges of your mouth heavy in their upturned state. He looks so small, so worried, shaking hands at his side. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. Neither do you. It’s always been something in your life. An endgame. An option when you run out of options. You talked it over with your therapist, loved and trusted, and they too believe this could be beneficial. Your bag is packed for three days. Three days apart. Basically a weekend. You can do that, right? You can manage, he can, too. You don’t think you have any other choice. Standing there, your bag at your feet, you feel the heaviness. The weight. You want to finally collapse inward like a star, bright and burning and suicidal. He looks you over, your expression, your body, everything you are. You will understand him to understand, to get it, but you don’t need to. He already does. It wasn’t an easy decision to come to. None of this has been. But if you want the hurt to stop, if you want to stop falling, then you need to leave and get help.

He picks your shirt from the laundry, holding it against his chest. He wanders around the apartment, massive, lonely without you by his side. It smells like you, the fabric. You hadn’t changed out of it in a week, week and a half. Sweaty, you’d argue, but he likes it. It’s familiar. Roaming like a ghost, restless, trapped. Mostly you sunk into the mattress, the sheets melding into your skin until you were one singular being. The tears, silent, hidden, but not quite. Coming home from work, finding your cheeks freshly wet, your eyes red and glazed over. The thoughts unsaid, but screaming. Screaming and wailing and willing you to step over that edge. Nothing about it is easy. Nothing about it is gentle. Nothing about this you could stand for much longer. Dinner, so sweetly prepared, goes uneaten. Everything sits like rocks in the pit of your stomach. Threatening to come back up again. Mostly, you push the food around your plate, managing a smile, managing interest in the conversation. You spend all day in bed, but you are unable to sleep. The bags under your eyes look like they hurt, aching, pulsing. The hollows of your eyes seem deeper, darker, haunted. Your body is so heavy. You never knew flesh and bone could feel like concrete. Every step, every movement, it is unthinkable. You curl into yourself, hoping tomorrow will be better, hoping this will go away. It won’t. It never does.

Roman didn’t know things were this bad. Even as he watched you wave from the check-in desk, even as he watched the doors close behind you and an escorting nurse, even as he waited for you to come back, a voice in his head told him things weren’t this bad. They were. You’ve been sick for a long time. He thought if he was home more, if he cooked dinner, real dinner, and cracked jokes and held you so tight at night, then it wouldn’t get this bad. Cyclical. Things got like this. But it always went away. It got bad, yes, but then it got better. Why wasn’t it going away? You didn’t have the words to describe it. He’d find you laying in the tub, the water cold, shivering, crying, unable to get out. It took too much energy, too much determination, none of which you had. Unchanged from the pajamas you wore for days at a time. He blamed himself. He wasn’t doing enough. He wasn’t there for you enough. If, if, if. You told him it was just your brain, your mind, getting a little lost. When it got lost, it was hard to find its way back. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t you, it wasn’t anyone or anything, just your brain. It would be like this for the rest of your life. You couldn’t bargain or bribe your way out of this. It had to be done. He saw the scars along your skin from the times before, when things were bad, very bad. He didn’t want anything like that from happening again.

He called you as soon as he could. Roman’s voice was shaky, unsure. You were the one easing his fears, his worries. If you didn't, no one would. He didn’t ask how it was going, he wasn't sure if he should. You sensed the curiosity, telling him your new routine. You’ve been sleeping better, easier. The food is terrible. There are doctors and therapists who are going to help you, make your brain better. He breathes a sigh of relief. Not because of what you say, but how you sound. Your tone was so scary. Scared of your thoughts, scared of what you might do. You sounded lighter. You talked as long as you could. When you hung up he went to bed with your shirt, one arm reaching out to your side of the bed. Wanting you. Needing you. Knowing this is what had to happen. Everything his father had taught him, you had he retaught. This wasn’t taboo. It wasn’t evil or wrong or anything to be embarrassed of. It’s just something that is. He counts down the hours. 48. 47. 46. . .

Soon you will be home. You will have medications, different pills, pills that will work. You will be in your own bed again right next to him. You will get better. You will feel happiness again. You will laugh and smile and it will be so genuine it hurts. And when this comes back, when everything gets dark again, because it always does, he will be there like he is now, like he has been. He will be there. Because when he made a promise to you, he made it to all of you. The good parts, but the bad parts too. The scary, mean, lying parts. The parts that tell you you aren’t worth it, that you won’t be missed. He’ll spend every day proving them wrong.

#writing #roman roy #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy drabble #roman roy oneshot #succession #succession imagine #succession drabble #succession oneshot #succession x reader #tw mental hospital #tw mental illness #tw mental health #tw bipolar #tw bipolar disorder

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cb-works13 · 4 months ago

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Lines I've Written in my OC Work that I Find Hilarious

(Taken out of context, of course.)

"I… am by no means religious, but if you are contemplating something as egregious as that, please take your requests up with… someone up there. Or read a religious book. Anything that gets you as far away from here as possible."

“Oh, so you don’t hate her?” Vale asks. “Are you contractually obligated to say that?”

I think the most interesting place I'd ever been in was a Cracker Barrel, Holly thought.

"Dear Rock," Flint said, "either you've got a medical condition that filters everything said into something romantic, or I need to check you into the nearest mental hospital."

"I'm… just going to clean up all of these before my parents think some crazy serial killer broke into the house." Oliver sighed.

Roxanne threw a straw at Flint's face. "Suck it up."

"Well, if we told you that you did kick a real-life secret agent off the roof and that you're now kinda an accomplice in the mission we’re on, and you’re probably now going to have to be on the run while maybe helping us, would you take that well?" he asked.

Roxanne had to drag Holly away from the crowd- she was signing autographs under the name “Linda Fitzherbert.”

The kid's eyes went wide at the sight of Kelly. "Good luck, man." he mouthed to Flint. Flint gave a small, tense nod. The kid quickly turned away and made the sign of the cross.

Holly tapped the man's shoulder. "Hey, Fancypants. Does this joint make macaroni and cheese or what?"

#oc #original character #creative writing #writing #out of context quotes #out of context #my oc stuff #oc writing

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yourlocaltrashcan657 · 11 months ago

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Mental Hospital AU! Yandere! Attack on Titan x Female Reader

Chapter 17- Connie

Waking up that day was terrifying. Y/N sat up and watched as Krista unveiled her leg and showed the leg to be clean and to only have a small scar, which would go away if left alone.

Ymir was having the worst hangover of her life whilst Sasha complained about the food she could’ve snacked on that night.

“We should get going you guys.” Krista said before they all left and reached the building.

Whilst entering the building, Y/N smiled at Mikasa who was just leaving and was soon approached by a blonde female.

She had her hood on which covered most of her head but was just a bit taller than Krista. She had blue eyes and looked a bit nervous.

”Are you Doctor L/N?” She asked.

”Yes I am. Who might you be?” Y/N asked.

”I’m Annie.” She said bluntly.

”Oh. Bertolt told me about you. He said you were his friend.” Y/N said.

”Right right.” Annie muttered before looking up at her. “Are you going to be visiting him today?”

“Not today, no.” Y/N said awkwardly.

”Do you also talk to Reiner?” Annie asked.

”Yes and I have him today, just at the end of my shift.” Y/N said. “Why do you ask?”

”I guess he’s also my friend..” Annie simply said before waving goodbye and leaving.

Walking into Connie’s Room, Y/N was quickly engulfed in a hug. She saw Connie snuggled into her and was smiling warmly.

”Hello Connie.” Y/N greeted warmly.

”Hello Y/N! I missed you so much!” Connie said. “Let’s make the most of the time we have together.”

He dragged Y/N to the mat on his floor and began to talk with her as she listened to him blabber on about anything he could say.

“Who else are you visiting today?” Connie asked.

”Oh I have to visit Jean and unfortunately Reiner..” y/N muttered.

”Do you not like Reiner? It’s because he’s a big pervert isn’t it?! I knew it all along!” Connie quickly ranted.

”No no!” Y/N reassured. “It’s some other reason that I can’t say..”

”Hey Y/N, who were those girls you were talking to yesterday?” Connie asked.

”oh those were my friends.” Y/N explained. “Don’t think about it too much but have you heard anything about Levi today?”

”Hmm. Not that I know of. I heard that the cameras went out though and that all the cells were checked.” Connie said.

“I’m just glad your okay.” Y/N smiled at him.

A wave of relief washed over Y/N. Levi went back to his cell just as he promised. But how did the lights go out?

“Y/N! Let’s play tic tac toe! Your hands are really soft..” Connie whispered the last bit.

#christa lenz #sasha braus #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #yandere bertolt #yandere connie springer #yandere erwin #yandere erwin smith #yandere jean #yandere jean kirstein #yandere eren yeager #yandere eren #yandere #aot x y/n #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere reiner #yandere shingeki no kyojin #yandere armin

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anonymousewrites · 1 year ago

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Logos and Pathos (Book 3) Chapter Twenty

TOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Twenty: Temperamental Lord

Summary: "Lord" Garth continues to try to take control of the Enterprise, but his prisoners aren't easily threatened.

The next person (Y/N) saw was two of Garth’s guards at their cell. They didn’t speak and just opened the door. (Y/N) stepped back, but they grabbed their arms and dragged them from the room and back into the open room. It had a red carpet laid across the floor leading up to a throne. Spock was nowhere to be seen, but Kirk was being held up by two guards of his own.

“Welcome, (Y/N)!” said Garth, waving a hand dramatically. “I’m so glad you could make it to my coronation!”

“Coronation?” they repeated.

“Yes,” said Garth. “Oh, I know that even a real throne is no more than merely a chair, but the symbolism is important. Don’t you agree?”

“If you have to force an idea to be real, then it likely has to merit,” said (Y/N). Garth scowled.

“You’ll likely wear a crown, I presume?” said Kirk, equally exhausted with the entire situation. Clearly, after Spock and (Y/N) had been removed, he had been put through quite the ordeal.

“Again, just as a token,” said Garth. “Not impressive in itself, but it will serve as a standard around which our followers will rally.”

“Garth, you only have a handful of men,” said (Y/N).

Garth sighed. “For having such a pretty face that could look so good smiling—” (Y/N) rolled their eyes “—you refuse to get into the spirit of things, don’t you?”

“I don’t like pointless pageantry,” said (Y/N).

“What if you got a nice role?” offered Garth. “Lord? Kirk is the Crown Prince, but you could be highly ranked as well.”

“I’m alright,” replied (Y/N).

“Captain?”

“I’m fine right here,” said Kirk.

“If you two don’t start playing along, then I may have you play the human sacrifice,” said Garth.

“You need me alive,” said Kirk.

“Go ahead, it still won’t change anything,” said (Y/N).

Garth gritted his teeth at their lack of reaction. “Very well. We have other candidates for our human sacrifice.” He turned away. “We’re ready!”

Kirk and (Y/N) were pulled to the side and forced to kneel. Garth exited the room and reentered in a moment with Marta holding his arm and a pillow with a crown in the other. They walked through the room and up the red carpet to the throne. Everyone knelt and bowed around them as they went.

Garth turned back around and gestured for everyone to stand. Kirk and (Y/N) were forced to their feet once more and stared solemnly at Garth as he smiled around at the gathering.

“Well, since there is no one mighty enough to perform this ceremony, we’ll perform it ourselves,” he decided. “Therefore, we hereby proclaim that I am…Lord Garth, master of the universe.” He placed the crown on his head. “And we designate that our beloved Marta to be our consort.” He placed a necklace around her neck.

Garth turned towards Kirk and (Y/N). “And we further designate Captain James Kirk of the Starship Enterprise to be our heir apparent. And finally, we designate Lieutenant (Y/N) (L/N) to be…” He thought hard, and (Y/N) mentally willed him not to say anything terrible. “…our new court dancer! I’m sure they’ll give us a performance soon once the right motivations come up.”

I don’t perform for madmen, thought (Y/N).

Around them, the group of hospital patients clapped happily, and Garth grinned arrogantly. He strutted up and down the carpet and enjoyed the attention he was receiving. Finally, he stepped up the stairs to the makeshift throne and sat down.

He gestured to (Y/N) and Kirk. “Let us now remove the heir apparent and dancer that we may conclude this ceremony.

(Y/N) and Kirk were once again dragged away by guards out of the room. They were doing a lot of forceful travel that day.

The guards shoved them into the original monitoring room they had beamed into.

“Listen to me,” said Kirk, looking at the patients. “This is our last chance. Garth will destroy all of us unless you help us stop him.”

“He’s definitely using you,” said (Y/N). “He wants all the power for himself.” Just as his emotions of joy every time he gets to show off that he has more than someone else.

“He even destroyed the very thing that could have helped you recover and leave this place,” said Kirk.

But none of the guards would listen. They just shoved Kirk and (Y/N) into a wall harshly, and the pair groaned upon impact.

“Well done,” said Garth approvingly as he saw Kirk and (Y/N) when he walked in. “Well, well, you two continue to resist. How stupid of you.” He nodded to two chairs. “Put them in those chairs right there. I’ve arranged a small entertainment. I wouldn’t want them to miss any of it.”

(Y/N) and Kirk exchanged a worried look. That didn’t spell out well, but they were forced into the chairs nonetheless.

“Well, Captain, Lieutenant, even you must admit that I’m a genius,” said Garth. “What you see here is my latest invention.” He held up a small cannister. “This is an explosive—the most powerful one in history.” He dangled it in front of them and watched them gaze at it tensely. “If I were to drop this flask, the resulting explosion would vaporize this planet. Now do you see why it is ridiculous for you to resist me? Well, perhaps you require the demonstration I’ve arranged.”

He turned to a viewing window and pressed a button. The shutters slid open. The outside of the planet was bathed in green light and covered in fog drifting across the ground.

“Watch closely,” said Garth proudly. “Now, it is true that she is deadly as a poisonous serpent, but she is also a beautiful woman, and you have held her in your arms, Captain.”

Garth’s jealousy, realized (Y/N) in horror as two guards in protective suits dragged Marta out into the open.

“I’ve ordered my men to drive her out of the protective dome, and, of course, she would choke to death on the outside in a matter of minutes,” said Garth.

Kirk and (Y/N)’s eyes widened.

“But I’ve arranged a more merciful end for her, because, after all, she is my consort,” said Garth. He held up the cannister again. “One tiny crystal implanted in her necklace—a portion of this explosive no bigger than a grain of sand. I propose to detonate it from here.” He waved his hand at the window, and the guards cleared away and left Marta to fend for herself.

She began to cough violently, and she held onto a rock for support. The atmosphere of Elba II was already obstructing her breath and getting into her system.

“Oh, poor girl,” pouted Garth.

(Y/N) was disgusted and sickened by the joy Garth was feeling as he watched Marta suffer.

“Poor, dear, suffering child,” sighed Garth, not feeling guilty at all. Marta reached out to him desperately, and he glanced carelessly back at (Y/N) and Kirk. “I will help her now.” He clicked a button, and with that single movement:

Bang!

An explosion killed Marta in an instant. (Y/N)’s hands went to their mouth in horror, and Kirk stared in shock before levelling a glare at Garth.

The “Lord” in question turned to face them and threw out his hands as if impressed with his own show.

“Here,” he said, tossing the cannister to one of his men, and they caught it in panic. Garth chuckled, and his joy at their fear seared (Y/N)’s skin. He took it back and faced his captive audience. “How are your nerves?”

“Even if you harm us, we won’t give you what you want,” said (Y/N), and Kirk nodded in firm agreement.

“Your stubbornness defies all logic,” said Garth. He smirked. “Logic. There’s the key.”

(Y/N) tensed.

“Your friend, Spock, is a logical man,” said Garth. “A very logical man.” He turned to his men. “Go and bring the Vulcan here to me.” The men left, leaving Garth, (Y/N), and Kirk alone.

No, no, not Spock! thought (Y/N), their heart pounding and threatening to rip in half at the idea of Spock being hurt or worse. (Y/N) wouldn’t be able to take it if the man they loved was taken from them.

Garth smirked and continued his monologue. (He loved hearing himself talk). “Spock is not only a more logical person than you two are, but he’s a more intelligent one, I’m sure. I shall establish a rapport with him.”

So he isn’t going to torture Spock. (Y/N) nearly relaxed. They still couldn’t let their guard down, but knowing that the immediate plan wasn’t to harm Spock was a definite relief.

Garth turned to some of the security screens and turned them on. Instead of seeing his men, though, he just saw Spock. With a phaser.

(Y/N) grinned. Their boyfriend had gotten free. As reliable as ever, my dear.

“Fascinating. Your Vulcan friend is an ingenious fellow,” said Garth, keeping himself tall and straight, but (Y/N) felt the twinge of frustration and worry threading through his aura. They smirked in satisfaction.

“This could be most amusing,” said Garth. He grabbed his fabric belt and pulled it off. “But first…” He transformed into (Y/N), and they jumped up.

“Don’t you dare—”

Garth grabbed them and shoved them into the wall. (Y/N) fought back, but in the moment that they struggled, Kirk’s sight of which one was which was lost, and the two “(Y/N)s” were left staring at each other as the door opened. Spock stepped in and raised an eyebrow upon seeing them.

“Which one is (Y/N)?” said Spock.

“I don’t know,” said Kirk, looking between the two (Y/N)s as well.

“That’s Garth,” said Garth, pointing.

(Y/N) narrowed their eyes in indignation. “No, I’m (Y/N). You’re Garth.”

“Can’t you tell which one is me, Spock?” said Garth.

“Don’t listen to him,” said (Y/N).

“Spock, I’ll get a security team down here. Keep them in your sights in case Garth tries anything,” said Kirk, moving to the control panel.

“How is the Captain feeling right now?” asked Spock, looking between the two people in front of him carefully.

“Worried,” said (Y/N) instantly.

“I was about to say the same thing,” said Garth. “And it’s obvious from his face, you don’t need empathy to see that.”

Unfortunately, that’s a fair point, thought (Y/N), frustrated. And then they straightened. “Spock.”

He looked at them.

“I know how you feel right now,” said (Y/N), lying through their teeth. It was risky, but it was their only idea.

“I do too!” said Garth instantly. “You’re concerned! You need to finish this mission efficiently and keep Garth from gaining power, but since Garth is hiding as me, you’re worried. You see? I know, and they don’t.”

Spock turned on Garth and fired. He collapsed, stunned. His body returned to his own.

“Very clever, T’hy’la,” said Spock, nodding to (Y/N).

“I knew you would understand.” (Y/N) smiled and shrugged. “Plus, you would have figured it out eventually. I trust you, my dear.”

Kirk let out a relieved breath and smiled. “I’m glad one of us got the situation under control.”

“(Y/N) is a resourceful, reliable officer. It was not surprising that they discovered a way to alert me to which one was them,” said Spock, proud of his t’hy’la as usual.

“I would never doubt (L/N), Spock,” said Kirk, smiling.

“I should hope not at this point,” laughed (Y/N).

“But, out of curiosity, how did Spock know it was you?” asked Kirk.

“I can’t feel Spock’s emotions,” said (Y/N). “He’s Vulcan. By lying and saying I could, Garth felt like he needed to show off that he ‘could’ too.”

“However, I know that (Y/N)’s empathy does not extend to me unless we are touching and sharing psychic auras,” said Spock. “So, once Garth explained what I was ‘feeling,’ I knew he was lying.”

“Incredible. Your relationship saved the day,” said Kirk, looking between Spock and (Y/N). “Bones is gonna love this.”

“That, Captain, is the wrong word I believe,” said Spock.

Kirk just laughed, and (Y/N) shook their head in amusement and touched their two fingers to Spock’s. He pressed back.

Yes, he supposed. Our relationship did allow us to understand one another deeply.

Taglist:

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@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

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lootsofathousandsworld · 10 months ago

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Life of a Pirate Chpt 10

Here you go lad/lass! A new chapter! :D :D

Hope you enjoy it! Sorry if grammer are wonky,

also warning on small anxiety added in.

Right when I made this decision. I overheard my rescuer screaming out of shock.

"Miss?! What are you doing?!" Ignoring him, I tried to run back, but the officer grabbed my arm.

“Miss! The longboat is this way! Hurry!” When he tried leading me the other way, I found myself yanking my arm away.

“I want to make sure Captain Flint gets back to his ship safely!” Gosh, those words were no good that his facial was looking at me like I was a sudden lunatic who needed to be in a mental hospital.

"Mamm you can't be serious! He's dangerous! "Again, he tries to take my arm but I flee and he screams.

"Miss come back here! You're out of your mind!" I bite my lips, wondering if I really am out of my mind. Is all for the future to be stable, it'll be worth it.

When I returned, I found him in the same place where I had taken off. Flint was breathing heavily holding his wound to stop bleeding. He was in bad shape and my worries about him not making it back his loot won't exist anymore.

I swallowed got on my knees and touched his shoulder.

"Captain? Captain!" I watch some of his eyes open partly, breathing heavily. When he saw me his eyes widened.

"What?" He gasped.

"We have to get you back to your ship," I grab his arm and try to help him get up. "Come on!" He winches in pain but manages to lift himself with my help. I put his arm over my shoulder and helped him walk.

I grunt on how heavy he was but I was glad he's able to stand despite being wounded. It would be twice as difficult for me to get him back to his ship. As I was helping him get back to his ship I scanned around to find any of his crew to assist, me.

I managed to catch Billy through the battle I yelled for him.

"Billy!" I watch him after slaying a navy with his cutlass he searches around after hearing my voice. Again I scream at him.

"Billy! Over here!" He finally found me and his eyes widened when he saw Flint in pain. He ran over to us but I noticed he was reaching his hand down to his pocket and pulling out a flintlock.

I knew what he was thinking I quickly out of fright stated.

'Wait it's not what you think!"

"Give me a good reason not to kill you!" Billy points his gun at me getting ready to shoot me at any moment.

"Because she did not shoot me." Flint pitched in. The turtle alien looks sharply at his captain now in puzzlement.

"Sir?"

"Stand down," He ordered. And help her get me back to my ship," Billy looked at me for a few seconds and soon lowered his flintlock.

"I'll clear the way while you help him get back, no tricks." I nodded as Billy began to fight off the navy while we followed behind. When Flint looks down at me I look away to avoid his glance.

I don't know what he was thinking of me saving him after I tried to escape. But I already have a plan on once he gets on his ship I'll flee back here to go to longboat. And I hope they are still available when I've finished this mission.

--------------------------------------

Right when we got close to the ship Billy helped me get him over to his ship. As we got him back on I caught a glimpse of his men carrying loads of treasure chests that they stole.

I bite my lips to hold my cross on them stealing all their money from the innocents. Then Billy took my place as he put Flint's arm around over his shoulder.

"You did good lass," He said to me and I only gave him tasks.

"Ashy?" I turned and saw B.E.N with a surprised look on his face. "You came back?" I smiled a little and was just about to say something but all of a sudden I was caught off guard when Flint snatched my wrist.

I screamed when he pulled me to face him and I saw he has still a furious look.

"You had caused enough trouble!" He growled, and I gasped with fear and tried to pull away.

"Ash!" B.E.N cried and Flint began to drag me away.

"Cap'n you're in pain!" Billy reminded him but Flint ignored him.

Instead, he said to him out of anger. "Set course to the northeast! Get us out of here," And before he took me down the below deck he glared at one of his men.

"Have Nicolas prepare my medical when I get back! No slacking!" His men didn't hesitate out of fright hurry to fetch the surgeon. After that, he pulls me forcefully with him down the below deck.

I tried to break free by getting his hand off but the more I tried pulling he squeezed my wrist I cried in pain.

"Let go you're hurting me!" I couldn't help to scream at these sentences the more he gripped hard. Feeling my wrist is going to get broken if he keeps this up. I learned we were in some brig when I blinked that has few jails opened.

Flint picked the closest one and threw me in like a rag doll. I crashed hard on the dirty floor. I gasped painfully holding my pained wrist.

"You will stay here the rest of your life! This will teach you never to disobey your Captain!" He slams my jail door and locks it. I grit my teeth while hearing his boots storm off. I felt my tears coming after he was gone I found myself regretting my choice to save him.

"Fuck you, Flint," I muttered angrily. "I should've let you die in flames,"

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Third's person POV:

Flint marched up holding his wound heading his way to his stateroom. Some men watched him walk past and none dared to say anything knowing their captain was still livid.

Still, few were impressed at his strength despite being wounded. It's like the devil is giving him the strength to let out all his wrath to those who turned against him.

They almost jumped when Flint asked them darkly. "Where's the surgeon?"

"He's in your cabin waitin," Blackdog manage to reply. Flint huffed and made his way to his cabin. Before he opened the door, he felt someone touch his shoulder. Growling he turned sharply and saw it was only Billy. He calms down when he watches his first mate look at him concern.

"Sir?"

"I'm fine. Billy," He sighed. He made him let go of his shoulder and added. "I will be calmed after I'm healed. Make sure these men do their job," The turtle alien gives him a soft nod and lets him open the door.

B.E.N watches him go in as he hides behind two men, worrying if he sees him now he'll punish him for letting Ash escape. With no one watching he head his way back to the brig to find his friend.

------------------------

Ash's POV

"Ashy? Ashy?" I gasped to hear a familiar voice. I got up and peeked my head out.

"B.E.N?" I called out. "I'm in here," I saw him turn to me and he grins. I almost smiled and he ran to me and began to ramble with a worried look.

"Ash, are you okay? Are you hurt? Did Captain Flint hurt you? How's your wrist? Is it broken? Please tell me is not.."

"B.E.N," I quietly shushed him. "I'm okay, my wrist isn't broken thank god," He sighed in relief and then said something that made his hands turn into fists.

"And I want to also thank you for saving Captain Flint. No outsiders ever dare to help him,"

"Well, I shouldn't do that after how he is," I said in anger and saw his facial shock and I finished quietly. "What was I thinking of wanting to save him,"

"Then... why did you?" B.E.N. asked unsurely. I almost gasped silently when he asked this question. Knowing this was a time to tell him the real truth I looked at him holding my jail door bars.

"It's because.."I bite my lips and keep going. "It's because the reason is I'm..not from around here," He still looked at me confused.

"So you mean you're not from here? On this ship?"

I shook my head. "No, it's not just from here, it's more of..from time," I watch him blink and try to figure out what I was talking about.

Soon he lets out a sigh. "Sorry, I'm still not following,"

"Okay," I took a deep breath and glanced at him seriously. "B.E.N please, as a friend what I'm about to tell you. You have to promise me. Promise you won't tell this to anyone."

B.E.N. made a small laugh. "Ash I told you I'm good at keeping secrets,"

"Especially keeping them from Flint?" I tested. He hesitated when I asked him this. But he sighed and nodded.

"Especially my captain," With that, I begin to tell him the whole truth. Telling him how I ended up here with a wish and told him I was from another future dimension.

I even did my best to tell him what the movie was since I wasn't sure if this universe had those. Right after I told him everything I waited for him to say anything. I bite my lips when he looks at me stunned.

I swallowed nervously. "B.E.N?" I kept waiting for him to say something. "Are you going to say something?" Then I saw him about to but then, my heart stopped when he took off.

"B.E.N!" I screamed out of shock and perked my head out and saw him running up the deck. "B.E.N wait!" I begin to panic when this trauma comes back to me. He's going to tell Flint! He's going to tell him!

-----------------------------------

I got on my knees and clasped my head and was breathing fast.

"I'm going to die here. He's going to kill me!" I shut my eyes and did my best to calm my breath even though my fate was going to end here, in this dimension where I'll never see my home again.

I then heard footsteps coming my face paled knowing this was the end. I shut my eyes tightly and waited to get this over with. In my head, I begin to say goodbye and pray to God this death will be less painful.

Goodbye, my family. Goodbye, my friends. Goodbye home. Goodbye, Earth...

Ashy?" I gasped in startled and perked up and found B.E.N. but Flint was nowhere? Instead, he was alone with a mug and smiled.

'Sorry, I had to get some oil before I could talk. My throat was dry," He drank with one gulp, and I let out a breath of relief, letting all my building anxiety off my shoulder.

After he drank he sighed. "Alright, now that's done," His face returned to astonishment.

"You're from the future??"

"Short of yeah?" I replied. But I'm from another universe."

"So it all makes sense now," He beamed. "I question on how you know about me and also wondering who was John Silver."

I chuckled weakly, "Yep. You know now."

"And..you know how to get in the trove right?" Again I nod as I look down. He understood what I was thinking he reached his hand out and touched my shoulder.

'You don't need to worry now, your secret is safe with me." My eyes look over at him and he gives me a reassuring smile. I smiled back and touched his hand.

"Thank you B.E.N. You have no idea this means so much to me." Then I watch his robotic eyes light up as if he made a lightbulb on.

"Oh, I can do this!"

"Wha?" I blinked but almost jumped when his eyes suddenly made a flash of white and blue and talked in a robotic tone.

"Ash memory file created. Data has been stored locked away until then." After he was finished his eyes changed to his normal blue.

"There we go," He smiled. "Now it's safe."

"I had no idea you could do that," I gulped. He points at his head proudly.

"We robots have this ability to store any important information in our memory. And now your secret is safe in my data." He then added. "And I won't bring it up unless I find it."

Saw how it worked I found myself grinning happily now I have someone I can trust on my journey to fix my wish.

"Oh B.E.N thank you! I wish I could hug you now but, " He chuckles seeing where we're at and finished.

"Only if Captain Flint changes his mind he'll let me out,"

"Hey, maybe I can try to convince him since you saved his life." He replied.

"You can?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yep! Let me handle this, I'll be back!" He hurries out leaving me alone in my cell.

Once he was gone, I walked back and rested on a bench with my back hitting the wall. My eyes glance up at the wooded ceiling and I let out a soft sigh.

'Thank you, God, thank you for letting me live and have someone I can trust,"

#my fanfiction #treasure planet fanfic #Life of a pirate #nathaniel flint #sona #self insert #billy bones #BEN #intense moment #Hope you like it folks! :D

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