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hpalways · 3 years ago

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Broken Petals || Kazuha

Note: This is a hanahaki disease Kazuha oneshot! So heads up, angst is waiting hehe

Some days, he could hear it, crawling right out of him. Other days, it would be serene as the rippling waters below him. It usually altered between the two, distorting his reality for a few while the wind tickled his ears and the trees warned him of the inevitable. He was connected with the outside world, allowing them to guide him on all aspects of his life, because he longed for freedom. But this one very thing, he shrunk away from their touch, too stubborn to rescind the very thing that kept him going.

His eyes trailed to the [h/c] locks that furled with the breeze, to the gentle smile that was locked on your lips as you pulled at the wagon through the fields. Being the small townsperson you were, you worked in the fields of Inazuma daily until you had nothing left to lose. It was a difficult life, but most had no other choice, shouldering burdens to carry a family back home. Your mother sick and your brother too young, you were the one to take care of everyone.

But deep inside, he sensed something more from you. It was a longing of freedom, just as he did. Each time he approached you, he could hear relief in your breath -- relief from the harsh labor that always came to haunt.

"Do you need help?" he asked quietly, extending a hand to the handle of the wagon you lugged.

You shook your head, gratefully smiling nonetheless. "You know it's always going to be a no. Besides, I'm almost done anyway. Instead, why don't you tell me a poem like you do sometimes? That, in itself, helps me a lot."

Pondering for a second, he watched your figure for a silent moment, red hues drinking you in. That was what he always loved about you. You were so selfless, so graceful, and so beautiful. You didn't need to be a noble to show off such attributes to everyone -- you didn't need to wear silky robes to become the person everyone looked up to. Nothing you did was ever taken for granted, because you lived your life with a smile, despite never being able to achieve your true dream.

In the dark shed, he realized how tight spaced it was. Cheeks glowing warmly to be in close proximity to you, he stayed on the side to see you shoving the large wagon back. He dug his heels into the cool dirt when you turned to him, wiping sweat off your forehead happily. "No poem today? Aw, that's too bad." Stepping up to the samurai, you pat his cheek in a friendly manner. "Your presence was enough, so that's okay. Oh... I shouldn't dirty you in my hands. I'm sorry about that." Just as you were retracting your hand, he instinctively latched his fingers onto your arm to stop you. [e/c] irises widened momentarily, bewilderment coloring your features.

There was nothing romantic about this -- not at all rosy like the poems he made up with his thoughts on you. He let out a sigh and released your arm. "My apologies," he whispered, stalking right out of the shed before you could utter a word. "I need to get going now."

His trek back to his home was a quick one, with stealthy footsteps from all his training as a samurai. The sun was setting warmly, casting shades of orange and pinks across the skies in an ombre fashion.

Though each step was quick, the heavier it got as it went on.

He thought about the Vision Hunt Decree and how he would have to escape from Inazuma soon. No matter what, he couldn't stay here, not when all his aspirations were kept in his vision. After what his dear friend went through to fight against the Decree, Kazuha could never sit back and allow the officials to rob of him.

If he were to leave Inazuma, then there was one thing he wanted to do, to wrap things up and cut clean ties.

Arriving at his home, he walked into the cold building. Just before he could go in deeper, an unfathomable pain spread through his torso. Releasing a gasp, he crumbled to the floor, clenching his stomach and curling up into a ball. Salty tears clung to the corner of his eyes, blurring his vision and setting the world on fire. He was burning along it, fireworks going off internally, trickling red, red, and more red, that soon grew black.

His nails curled into the wood planked floors while he whimpered, the agony becoming unbearable. Getting into a fitful cough, every sound he let out wrenched at his soul, tearing it into pieces. They took their time, shoving an arm down his esophagus and cackling in joy at his suffering.

One last cough stopped the pain. Something flew out of his mouth, daintily spinning in the air like a lone ballerina. It was a petal, coated in thick blood at the edges.

Another one.

Numbly staring at the sight, he thought that it looked beautiful. It was almost as beautiful as you, a soft texture to its surface, yet stronger around the edges. It was almost as beautiful as you, but nothing could ever match your beauty.

He was going to endure this. For you.

The next day, he decided he had to rip the band-aid off. Time was less on his side by the day and soon he would have to leave.

Fortunately, today you had a day off, so you invited Kazuha out to stroll around the paths of Inazuma. Of course, he agreed to it, knowing that this was the opportunity he was waiting.

The two of you aimlessly wandered within the stretching paths, taking in the purple petals that sat prettily among branches and listening to the song of noisy birds. How stunning it was today, causing the corners of your mouth to lift up in sheer excitement. Your eyes lapped it up like a curious child running through the fields during free time, observing every little thing that failed to be inspected as a farmer. Staring at you, his heart squeezed. There was nothing more he wanted than to be by your side.

"The Vision Hunt Decree is growing stronger by the day," you suddenly brought up, sorrow taking over your usual face. "You're leaving, aren't you, Kazuha? I know how precious that vision is to you."

But you're just as precious to me, he wished to say. "Indeed," he said instead, glancing up to the wispy clouds. "I am being called to leave. I don't believe it will be too hard to sneak out of here."

Your eyes watered and you opened your arms to wrap him into a hug. Skin brushed silk and your fingers clenched tightly to his back, trembling in sadness. Your head leaned into his shoulder, breathing him in. He let out a breath in surprise, heart pounding at your warmth, your skin, your touch. "I will miss you so much. I will miss your poems and your comforting voice and the time we spent fooling around like nobodies."

That was when he came to a realization. He was selfish for holding onto you, for even thinking that you would come with him when so many responsibilities held you down. Your situation and his were different, leading you two onto separate routes, never to be met again.

He didn't want to let you go. It was driving him insane. It was driving him so insane a hand plunge into his chest.

"Sometimes I yearn for more than what I have... more than what I deserve," he muttered, pulling away from you and putting a gap to the distance from the light of his life.

"I do too," you agreed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Come visit me when the Decree is over, okay? Promise me."

How could he give you false hope like that? Even if the Decree were to be lifted, how could he ever dare face you again after such heartbreak? He knew you didn't love him the way he did you, but he chose to stay ignorant about it. And now... because he came to terms with it, it stung like hell just to be by your side. "I promise," he lied, the words slipping from his lips like slippery honey running down. Too sticky to hold on. And too sweet to ever be true.

"I love you, Kazuha," you murmured, planting a kiss on light colored locks, the action erupting goosebumps all over his body.

Those were the words he dreamt of hearing from you. He cried because of those dreams, but he cried even more because the meaning behind them were not the kind he sought.

Soon enough, you left, your back turned on him and growing smaller in the distance. He watched you without ever taking his eyes off of you, feeling the same pain burst into his system. He continued to keep his eyes on you when he crashed onto the ground, wheezing in raspy breath. A waterfall of tears slid down his cheeks, combining into one at the bottom of his chin, his features contorted from torment.

He would endure this for you. Always.

A kick to the gut sent him reeling and he doubled over, hugging himself as he coughed, over and over again. A petal flew out... and then another...

A flurry of petals escaped his mouth, sprinkling the sky of petals. This was more than what he would normally get.

Coughing turned into hacking, succumbing him into the earth. He was being suffocated, suffocated by a love that was never his to begin with. With one last cough -- a clean petal rested on the side of his cheek, representing you. Fluttering his eyes shut, he decided that he would endure this, even death, for you.

#genshin impact #gender neutral reader #Genshin #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact scenarios #oneshot #Kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha oneshot #romance #love #angst #hanahaki #hanahaki disease #death #character death

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sftwrmfics · 3 years ago

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get away | 1 - first day

Pairing: Juyeon x Y/n

Genres: slightest bit of fluff

Summary: Y/n is a straight-A, honors student who has no time for a relationship. So, when Juyeon, the infamous campus player, starts going after you, you decide to act interested and play along, hoping that this will be done and over with quickly. But things don’t turn out the way you hoped they would.

Word Count: 3, 753

Warnings: some swear words and that this was quickly edited, haha.

Nobody expected it at all. Not even you.

How you were currently holding hands with Juyeon during your first date with him was beyond you. But, here you were, doing just that and laughing over the joke he made about the movie that you two were about to watch.

It all started about a week ago.

You were cooped up in the library, reviewing notes from your latest lecture while munching one of your favorite candy bars. It was the afternoon, so there were more people here than usual, studying or silently chatting with their friends. However, everyone was pretty much quiet, making it easy to get focused.

Pretty engrossed in reviewing, you slightly flinched in surprise when a group of boys had entered the library with a fit of laughter. Everyone around you, including yourself, shot the group of three boys looks of annoyance and, immediately, they quieted down, still snickering between themselves as they walked past you and took a seat a few tables behind you.

Thinking that you wouldn't be able to hear them, you relaxed in your seat. But, your eyebrow twitched when you realized that you could hear what they were talking about, even though they were loudly whispering.

"Are you still with that girl..." One boy brought up as soon as they sat down. "Uhm... what's her name? Jiyeon? Jisoo?"

Frustrated, you tried turning further away from them, but, unfortunately, you could still hear them.

Another boy hummed in thought. "Are you talking about Jiwon?" It seemed like he got a response as he amusedly replied. "Pfft, no, duh. I dumped her, I think, yesterday," the boy questioned, "because she was getting boring."

You could hear some rustling, shrinking further into the chair.

"Oooooh, Juyeon, you heartbreaker." The boys joked around and laughed as quietly as they could.

You had enough as you couldn't focus on your notes. So, you rummaged through your back for headphones and slipped them on, putting the volume up to blast your favorite study playlist, and continued to review your notes.

A couple of hours went by without you noticing until you had finished reviewing and looked out at the dark window in front of you. With a groan, you dropped your pen and stretched your arms above your head, relieving the tension of your muscles. You sighed satisfied at your hard work and relaxed in the chair while stretching your legs out underneath the table.

Picking up your phone, you paused your study playlist and slid your headphones off your ears, wrapping it around your neck as you checked your phone for the first time in hours.

Initially, not expecting much, you felt a bit surprised and concerned seeing three missed calls from Younghoon from about twenty minutes ago. You were about to call him back, but remembered when he had done the exact same thing to only tell you about this new bread that he found at the convenience store.

So, you sighed at the memory and opted to check if he had texted you first, opening the messages app. There on top were texts from him.

younghoonie :P - y/n where are you

younghoonie :P - aren’t you coming to the weekly movie night ???

younghoonie :P - i haven’t seen you in foreverrrrr

You scoffed and playfully rolled your eyes. I literally had a lecture with you today.

younghoonie :P - please get here soon

younghoonie :P - i think changmin and chanhee are going to fight again

With perfect timing, your phone buzzed twice, showing Changmin’s texts at the top of the screen.

squirrel changmin - i’m going to kill choi chanhee

squirrel changmin - audio message

You immediately straightened up in the chair, swiftly putting on the headphones while lowering the volume because you knew Changmin. Carefully, you pressed play and listened, in horror, to Chanhee’s distraught screams and pleas for help. In the background, you could hear Younghoon trying to calm them down but, to no avail, the screaming continued along with some banging and hectic footsteps.

For about thirty seconds, that was all you heard, then, suddenly, it became silent. Confused, you checked to see if it was still playing but heard the slightest, familiar, evil chuckle.

You shivered out of fear.

At that, you quickly packed your stuff into your backpack and walked as fast as you could to the entrance without a sound, calling Younghoon on the way.

When he didn’t answer, you huffed in frustration and frantically texted him to try his best to separate the two until you got there. But, before you sent it to him, you ran into something hard, causing you to fall to the ground.

Wincing, you rubbed your butt, hoping the pain would ease, and peeked up at what you ran into. The individual before you caused you to stop what you were doing and gape at him with wide, shocked eyes.

You recognized him.

His light brown hair, slightly tanned skin, and loose-fitting clothes were imprinted in your mind as Changmin and Chanhee always pointed him out and gossiped about him when they spotted him anywhere on campus.

It was Juyeon, the infamous campus player.

From your two best friends you heard that he dates all types of girls and treats them like they’re special, causing them to fall in love with him in a week or less. Then, afterward, he would toss them away like a piece of trash and, the next day, he would be found talking to some other girl.

At first, you didn’t believe anything that the two had gossiped about him being a player. You scoffed in disbelief, saying that they were just being dramatic and blowing up the rumors. But, when they pointed him out in a dining hall, you saw that he was flirting with some girl, and, when they nudged you the week after to look at him, he was flirting with another girl.

Seeing your shocked expression prompted them to continue gossiping about him to you. They informed you that he always dumped them in the worst ways possible. You heard that he would cheat right in front of them, by kissing someone or announcing it while with the other person. Or, if they came to confront him after a week was over, he would act as if he didn’t know anything about them, saying that they were crazy and delusional for thinking that they were ever in a relationship.

Changmin and Chanhee warned you to not get involved with him no matter what, but you didn’t need them to tell you that. You already felt angry and disgusted at the mere thought of him.

So, when Juyeon smiled down at you and asked if you were okay with his hand extended towards you, you gave him a wry smile and pushed yourself off the ground. Standing up on your own, you completely ignored him as you dusted yourself off.

In your hand, your phone started buzzing, averting your attention to it. Upon seeing Younghoon’s name on the screen, you remembered that there was an emergency and gasped.

Just as the boy in front of you opened his mouth to say something, you cut him off by replying to his question with that wry smile still on your face. “I’m okay, but I gotta run.”

Seeing his blanked-out expression, you calmly speed-walked past him and answered Younghoon’s call, who was frantically asking you when you’re going to be here. As you replied to his questions and tried to soothe the boy, you let out a sigh of relief when Juyeon didn’t do anything else.

Honestly, after what happened in the library, you thought that would be your first and last interaction with him. Especially since you ditched him like that, there was no way that he would try talking to you again.

A few days later, during lunch, you noticed him entering the dining hall near where your lecture was held. As if he felt your stare, he locked eyes with you which startled you in your seat, but before you could look away, he did so first.

Slowly placing your hand over your mouth, you internally screamed.

You were not expecting him to react like that.

Letting out a playful smile and feeling a surge of confidence that he won’t bother you, you went back to eating while happily scrolling through your phone.

Busy stifling laughter at a random Tiktok that Changmin had sent you, you failed to notice that someone had sat in the seat in front of you until a hand reached out into your field of vision and knocked on the table. Startled, you almost dropped your phone with a yelp but caught it on time to your relief, and you glanced up. Displeased at what you saw, you almost frowned but quickly covered it up with a small, questioning smile.

Why was Juyeon sitting in front of you?

You internally sighed. You had a feeling that this wouldn’t be any good.

Juyeon was already smiling, but it got wider when you made eye contact with him.

“Hey, I’m Juyeon,” then he asked, “Is it okay if I sit here?”

You almost gave him a sassy reply, telling him to find another girl to target. But, when you briefly looked around and saw all of the tables filled, you sighed and just shrugged in response. As he calmly unpacked his lunch with a smile, you looked away as you were having an internal battle.

In your head, you were yelling at yourself for being so stupid and reprimanding yourself for being too nice. You should have just flat out said no. Yet, in your heart, the growing feeling of guilt if you said no in this packed dining hall outweighed your thoughts, leading to your actions.

Although, now, the warning bells in your head were ringing louder than ever as everything that Changmin and Chanhee informed you about him raced through your thoughts. Amidst the panic, you came up with only one solution a second later.

You had to get the fuck away from him.

Trying to not show your shaking hands, you steadily increased the pace that you were eating, trying to finish the rest of your lunch without him noticing.

But, fate was not on your side as he started talking to you.

Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Juyeon smiled and asked you all of the basic, getting-to-know-you questions, like your name, major, and year.

It might be nothing. You reassured yourself. Let’s just get through this civilly.

Reluctantly, you swallowed your food and answered him.

Sighing at your responses, he dejectedly told you that he was in a different major and a year above you. He slightly pouted and looked down at his food, playing around with it for a bit.

On the outside, you just shrugged nonchalantly, but, inside, you let out the biggest sigh of relief at the fact that the chances of you two having a lecture together were low.

Getting over the feeling, he continued chatting with you, asking you a few more questions. You gave him curt replies, not looking up at him and paying more attention to your phone. After a few answers, Juyeon picked up on your disinterest and became silent, returning to eat his food, while you did the same but continued scrolling through your phone.

This was the first time that you had acted so cold to a stranger and the feeling of guilt returned, making your stomach feel queasy, but, you remembered how he hurts girls for fun and that feeling went away quickly.

After a few moments of silence, he called out your name and you glanced at him to see that he was staring at you.

You don’t know why, but you couldn’t help but stare back.

His brown eyes were shining underneath the white light of the hall and you noticed how big they were. Even though you were probably about two feet away from him, you saw his pupils gradually grow bigger as each second passed.

It seemed like… he was looking at you as if he was in love with you.

Your heart skipped a beat.

When it dawned on you what just happened, you snapped it out of and shook your head, breaking eye contact and coming back to reality.

There was no way someone could possibly fall in love after meeting twice and one conversation, especially from a player. That ominous feeling you had earlier was getting stronger. The feeling that you would be his next target.

He then peered at you with hopeful eyes. “When I bumped into you at the library and stared into your eyes, it felt like destiny.” He looked away shyly. “I know this is a bit soon and shocking, but will you go out with me?”

You were surprised, which was evident on your face as your mouth dropped open.

This couldn’t actually be happening to you.

When you pinched yourself and it hurt, you knew that you were awake.

Obviously, you were going to say no. You didn’t want to get involved with anyone who held such a reputation, and you had no time to be in a relationship.

You opened your mouth but snapped it shut, thinking through your decision carefully.

This only happened in stories and fics that you read when you were younger. In those stories, players usually chased after girls who appeared to be innocent and had no experience in love. It was considered a bonus for them if the girl appeared uninterested, motivating them, even more, to win her over. Based on that knowledge, you knew that it could take weeks to months.

And you knew that you didn’t want that either.

So, you carefully thought this through.

Changmin and Chanhee’s warnings, how Juyeon hurts girls for fun, stereotypical players like innocent girls, chasing taking weeks to months, and how Juyeon usually dumps a girl in a week.

What should you do?

Suddenly, it dawned on you, which you excitedly fist-bumped the air in your mind.

You had a plan.

For the next week, you were going to act like an innocent girl who falls in love with him, but you were also going to try to get him to fall in love with you and break his heart.

If this plan works, you get the unasked revenge for all of those girls he hurt and feel the great success of taking down a player. However, if it doesn’t, he will dump you in a week and you’ll shed a few tears. After that, you’ll call it a day and move on, knowing that he won’t contact you ever again.

Inwardly, you smirked. This will be easy.

You shyly tuck a lock of hair behind your ear and tentatively meet his hopeful eyes before saying yes.

Which leads to where you are now.

At the movie theater, walking hand-in-hand with Juyeon as he carries a bucket of popcorn in the other on the way to see some movie. You had laughed at a joke that he had made.

It’s been ten minutes since the date started, and the plan seemed to be working perfectly.

Earlier, when you met up with Juyeon, you called out his name and ran to him, engulfing yourself in his arms. Peering at him, you took note of how his cheeks were dusted pink and the tips of his ears were slowly turning the same color.

It made you inwardly grin at the sight, but you immediately let go of him, apologizing since you were a bit excited about the date. Even without saying anything, you could tell that he was dejected that you left his arms, but he gave you an eye smile and reassured you that it was okay.

Ooh, he’s pretty good at acting too. You thought. Look at him acting all sad.

Noticing your outfit, which consisted of innocent clothes that you could find in your closet, Juyeon complimented you and you pretended to like it by smiling at him then shyly looking away. You faced him to return the compliment and purposefully messed up by repeating what he had said to you. Acting like you were embarrassed, you profusely apologized to him, muttering what you were actually going to say. With a wider smile on his face, he giggled and once again reassured you that he was fine, although you could see his cheeks turning redder.

At the sight, you slightly raised your eyebrow, not even for him to notice.

He then asked to take your hand, which you gingerly took while shyly turning away. The moment that he intertwined your hand with his, you had to mentally and physically hold yourself back from yanking it out of his grip.

As you got your tickets and food, you held his hand the entire time and threw him a soft smile every so often when you caught him looking at you. And, each time, he would either smile back and you could see his cheeks turning red, or he would look away and cover his mouth with his hand. Seeing him like that, you couldn’t help but grow in confidence that your plan was actually working.

So, now, as you two were walking around just talking a bit on the way to the theater, you did bolder things. Well, bolder for you. Like, squeeze his hand or lean against his arm when someone was walking too close to you.

You could tell that he was getting flustered by your actions as now he looked red and kept looking away when you tried to make eye contact with you. Plus, when you leaned against his arm, you felt his body tense up and go rigid, then he would visibly relax when you stepped away from him.

It made you feel more confident that you could get this guy to fall in love with you.

This was going to be easy.

On the drive back to your apartment, you and Juyeon were discussing the movie that you had watched. But, right now, you were laughing at him while he pouted at you from the wheel.

“I can’t believe you cried,” you said after laughing, hugging yourself, and wiped away a few tears.

“It was sad,” he argued. “It was really sad.”

“I mean it was pretty sad,” you paused, “I was crying a bit, but then I heard you sob and, when I looked over, I saw tears were streaming down your face.” You mentioned while stifling your laughter.

“That was the saddest part!” He pointed out. “They couldn’t make their last promise of seeing each other once again come true, and you thought that would be it. But then it cuts to their gravestones being next to each other.” Pausing, he sniffled a bit. “Seeing their names carved on them got to me.” He quietly admitted, which you heard.

You wouldn’t admit it to him, but you would have sobbed too if you didn’t notice Juyeon’s tears first. Upon seeing them, you made sure to imprint his crying face into your mind because you wanted to remember it. It was the face that you will be seeing when your plan worked.

After a few more minutes of messing around with Juyeon, you arrived at your apartment complex. Pulling into a parking spot in front of your building, he parked the car. You almost let out a sigh of relief at this night being done with, although you had to admit it was a bit fun teasing him. But, just as you were going to open the door, Juyeon held his hand in front of you.

“Wait for a moment,” he asked while he turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt, “stay put.”

Confused, you reluctantly did as was told, and he got out and ran to your side opening the car for you.

Actually a bit surprised, you laughed at his actions, deciding to play along once more, and curtsied, “Thank you very much, fine gentleman.”

Juyeon chuckled at that and walked you to the front of your complex with a shy smile on his face, continuing to talk with you more about the movie. You were using up a lot of your small amount of energy to laugh and talk with him. And, as you got closer to the door, you got more excited to finally get away from him.

So, when you got to the front, you turned around and stared at him with a soft smile, using the last bit of your energy.

“Goodnight Juyeon,” you tiredly said and turned around to leave, but, as you were about to bolt to the door, he stopped you by holding your arm.

What does he want?

Immediately hiding your annoyance, you innocently turned around and faced him, looking confused.

He was staring down at the ground for a few before clearing his throat and gazing into your eyes, he asked, “Is it okay if I give you a hug and a kiss on the forehead?”

Ugh. You thought. I really don’t want to.

But, you shyly nodded anyway, looking away.

He took a step closer to you and delicately wrapped you in his arms into a hug, which you timidly returned.

You two stayed in each other’s embrace for a few seconds, which felt like a lifetime to you before he pulled away and lightly brushed his lips against your forehead. That drained you of your energy.

He then smiled and pulled away, saying, "I'll text you later." Then, he turned around and was about to head over to his car.

However, your pride told you to not let him have the satisfying feeling of having the last move. So, you grabbed his arm, pulled him back, and turned him to his side, kissing him on the cheek.

Just as quickly, you released him and ran towards the door, punching in the code before running inside and around the corner of the wall. Hiding behind it, you peered out, checking to see if he was still there.

And he was. Juyeon stood there for a bit, looking dazed. His ears and cheeks tinted red, and you saw him slightly cheer by punching the air once before walking back to his car.

Once you saw him drive away, you turned around and started heading to your apartment.

This time, you didn't stop the small, confident smile growing on your face.

#the boyz #juyeon #the boyz juyeon #juyeon x reader #the boyz fanfic #tbz fanfic #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #the boyz imagines #tbz imagines #the boyz angst #tbz angst #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #i'm sorry for getting this out 20 minutes late :(((#but i thought it would be better to edit before actually posting it on time #anyways i hope you enjoy it!!!#please tell me what you think :)

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jaehyunoos · 4 years ago

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- Over it

Summary: You always preached about getting over your ex, real fast. But what if you haven't and you've been lying to yourself all along?

Genre: Breakup!au, angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end

Tw?: Alcohol consumption, a mention of reader wanting to unalive herself, reader is lying to herself as a coping mechanism???

Pairing: Lee Jeno x fem!reader (brief mentions of Haechan)

Word Count: 1.7k (it's the longest I've ever written lmfao)

Author's Note; Angsty queen or what?? lmao,, HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOVE OF MY LIFE JENO !!!! also, my requests are open if you want to request anything I will deliver <3 if you read this I love you and thank you for reading !! Enjoy 💚

You were over him. You were sure of that. After breaking up you did absolutely everything to get him out of your mind and surprisingly enough, it worked. You got a new haircut, started a new job, took care of yourself better, and made new friends. Life was a piece of cake for you when he left, everything came to a lot easier, in which you were thankful for that. You had moved on once and for all... Or so you thought.

Finding yourself looking back at times you were with him, how happy he made you, how much of a gentleman he was, how he made you feel like you were high; above everyone, and how much pleasure he gave you, you were his muse.

Slapping yourself out of your trance, you promised yourself to not think about him anymore. This night was going to be all about you and you only. Not Jeno -hell- not even a hundred Jenos couldn't stop you from having fun tonight. You were over him and that was final.

Walking into the house; which the party was hosted. Nose filing with the writhing stench of pure alcohol, mixed with sweat, you internally gagged passing by a couple making out at the kitchen entrance, you rolled your eyes taking a beer from the fridge and making your way out to the sofa. No way you would get out of this party sober, you had to drink, you had to get wasted. In honor of this prick; Lee Jeno, your ex.

You always boasted about how you were over him and how you didn't love him anymore. How he hurt you so bad that your feelings for him just stopped. You were so full of yourself, wow you had gotten over a relationship that you thought would be tough to manage, what a surprise. But seeing him walk into this house -powerfully so- with a lady by his side smiling and hugging his friends, you started to rethink everything you've done so far.

Were you really over the one and only; Lee Jeno? Or was all of this just a front, a new way of coping without him in your life? How did you manage to lie to yourself and believe it?

You know what they say; fake it 'till you make it. But did you? Did you make it? No, the fuck you did not. You were not over him. And you wouldn't be able to get over him, ever. Today marks the day you realized you didn't move on, putting one and two together you realized that all this time you were lying to yourself, and everyone around you. The hypocrisy.

Chugging the liquid down your throat, along with the betrayal you felt, the cold liquid cooling off your insides, making you feel a lot better at that moment. You smiled to yourself, alcohol made you feel free, your coping mechanism of a real escape once in a while. You got up to your feet, straightening your clothes, you made your way to the kitchen once again. You made sure you walked past them in long, powerful strides, grabbing your beer and exiting the kitchen, the same way you entered.

You glanced at them, seeing as he didn't even spare a glance at you, you sulked on the sofa. You couldn't stop thinking about the way he held her, by her waist, as if she was something so delicate; so fragile that if he held her in his arms for too long, she would break and disappear from his arms. You wanted to cry at that moment, he looked so happy. Maybe he truly was, maybe he didn't lie to himself like you did, and he was truly over you.

Or maybe he wasn't, you liked to cope with that idea. That he was putting up a front for you and everyone, that he didn't move on from you, but only the pained ones can dream, am I right? You wanted to dip at that moment, hide forever; or die. You shouldn't have come to this party, ever. Maybe if you stayed home and kept lying to yourself that you were happy, that you were able to live your life better without him. But at the same time, you wanted to get up and give him a good old slap into his handsome face.

How could he move on that fast? Get a new girlfriend, just like that, as if you never meant anything to him, ever. A person sitting beside you, suddenly, took you out of your train of thoughts.

"Hyuck!!, hey!" you breathed out.

Lee Donghyuck aka; Haechan. One of Jeno's best friends aka; your emotional support boy, was there with you, in all your crazy times after your breakup with him. "Hey, babydoll" he came closer to your face so you could hear what he said. Babydoll. The nickname he created after he, unexpectedly, caught you crying over baby dollies once, while he was over for late nights talks.

"What are you doing here all by yourself, mi querida?" asked, him.

"I'm trying to have as much fun as I can, I have so much to do this week" you let out a fake sigh, you had no work, no classes this week. You were just creating excuses because you were gonna spend those 7 days crying yourself to sleep and eat ice cream 'til you throw up.

Haechan threw an arm around you "he's here you know" he motioned towards Jeno and his crew with his chin, you looked over there for a second, catching a glimpse of Jeno smiling. You looked down at your red solo cup, sighing, "I know, what can I do about it" you looked at his eyes this time. "it's his birthday today".

"I know, how could I forget" you smiled.

"Maybe, I don't know, go there and wish-"

"ooookay time to get up and dance" you patted his thigh as you got up.

"Gosh, why are you so stubborn, I asked you to wish him a happy birthday, not fuck him, for god's sake!!" Haechan shot up from the sofa.

You stood there for a second, frozen, what was this outburst?

"Are you out of your mind!? He's clearly over me Hyuck, and as much as I wanna go up there and give him the biggest hug I can't. I can't just barge into his life back again and be like "heeey" as if nothing ever happened between us, as if we didn't hurt each other!"

You didn't mean to burst out like that, he probably heard what you said in fact; everyone did. Tears gathering in your eyes, you ran outside, the embarrassment too much to handle. You felt overwhelmed. You felt as if everyone was pushing you all this time and you -just now- had finally reached your breaking point.

Sitting on a bench near the pool, you let your sadness, frustration, regret, lies; everything takes over you as you sobbed into your hands. You felt stupid for crying over something so small, you felt bad because Haechan was probably somewhere beating himself up for pushing your limits. You didn't mean to be that sensitive.

You suddenly felt movement beside you as if someone sat there. You took your face out of your hands and looked at the person. Gasping, you wiped your -now wide- eyes and sat straight. There was none there besides the one and only, yeah you guessed it; Lee Jeno. "Do you mind if I sit here?" he gave you a soft smile.

'It's okay, you can sit, I guess" you cleared your throat.

You looked at him as he stared straight into the sky, a soft smile displaying on his lips as he rocked himself gently, back and forth. Mimicking his position, you did the same as you looked to the front, enjoying the cold breeze. "What happened to us?" you heard him speak, you turned to him, shrugging, "I don't know".

"it's like one minute we were in love and the other we were not"

you frowned.

"true, it's just one of us stopped loving the other for good but the one who thought that she had everything under control, turns out she's still madly in love, with the other" you smiled at him.

What you said caught him off guard, his eyes went wide in shock, but he quickly recovered. "Look, don't get me wrong I loved you; a lot, heck I might still love you. No, scratch that I am still in love with you, but, I'm in a very happy and healthy relationship and I want to keep it that way" you felt yourself tense up at the word 'relationship' but you quickly covered it up with a smile "it's okay Jeno, I get it, I never really expected anything after our breakup anyways" you patted his shoulder as you continued looking at the stars in the sky.

"Hey, Jen" you called out to him.

"Hm?"

"Can I get a last hug?" you looked at him.

"Come here" he motioned as he opened his arms to engulf you in a hug.

That's what it felt like hugging your whole world.

Finally. She felt as if she found her peace again. Her safe haven. After all the pain, the drama and deceit, the chaos and despair, there was rest. She felt once again the warmth and safety of his arms and how his hands held her as if he had known her all her life. She was finally home.

"She felt as if she found her peace again. Her safe haven." But that only would last that long as Jeno had to go back home to the safety of the arms of his girlfriend, and she had to go back to an empty home, an empty world, cause that's what her world felt like without him; empty. She wanted him back in her arms, she needed to be in his arms, but it was too late for that as Jeno went back to his girlfriend and she had to go back home, full of regrets. She was not over him and she chooses to ignore it and the more she ignored it the more further away Jeno slipped from her arms to the arms of another.

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 15

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 4,365ish

Summary: The divorce papers are still an issue. (Grey’s Anatomy 2x05) [Finally! I know. Thank you for being patient with me!]

You grabbed your things and rushed out of the bar. Steve quickly did the same.

“Y/N,” Steve called.

“No. I don’t want to talk about this,” you replied, heading down the street. “Not now. Not with you.”

“Y/N…”

“You didn’t sign the divorce papers. Fine. I get it. End of discussion.”

“Y/N.”

“What?!?” You finally spun around to face him.

“Oh… I usually just say ‘Y/N’ and then you yell at me. I haven’t really thought past that point.” You scowled and shook your head. “I actually didn’t have anything planned.” You hit him with your bag. “Hey!” He rubbed his arm. “What is with that?” You did it a few more times. “Hey stop it. Ow.”

“Seriously?! Seriously?! You know what, just leave me alone.”

Steve reached for you. “Y/N—“

“Stop it! I said leave me alone! I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You stormed off, heading to find your car so that you could go back home. You were pissed at Steve and, mostly, yourself. How could you let yourself believe that he would be so willing to sign those divorce papers to be with you?

~~~

All you interns had just finished rounds and Gamora had you all in the hallway for assignments. Before she could call them out, Peggy interrupted.

“Has anyone seen Dr. Rogers this morning?” She wondered.

“His name is on the OR board,” Gamora answered. “He should be here somewhere.”

“Thank you.” Peggy swiftly walked off.

“Quill, Lang, you’re in the pit today. Val, there’s a cardiac patient waiting up for you on 2. Barton, they need help in peds. Romanoff, keep an eye on the Longs. And L/N, you’re with Rogers. I don’t want any problems. Go.”

Everyone hurried away while you stayed put. “Rogers?” You whispered. “Uh, I guess, which one?”

“Steve.”

“Uh, I don’t think—“

“Hey, life is short. Times are hard. The road is long with many a winding turn,” Gamora sassed. “He actually asked for you. Take it up with him.” Gamora walked away.

“Shit.”

“Shit? Oh no,” Tony showed up beside you. “It’s only morning. What’s wrong already?”

“Steve didn’t sign the divorce papers.”

“Oh,” Tony grimaced.

“And now he’s asked for me to be on his service today.”

“Well, maybe he will sign them. He just has to think about it.”

“But I don’t want him to think about it. I want it… I want…”

“You want to be the obvious choice. I get it.”

“Yeah… how’s trying to get Pepper going?”

“I think I almost have her. I’ve been in on all her surgeries that I can be. Fury and Hill are even making it work.”

“Wow. I wish I had everyone on my side. But… I don’t and it doesn’t matter anymore. It has to be his choice, not mine, not me pleading or begging. It needs to be all him.”

“Wise,” Tony nodded. “I still think he’ll choose you.”

“We will see… we will see…”

~~~

“Y/N,” Steve greeted when you found him.

“Your wife is looking for you,” you responded.

“Oh, my gosh,” he sighed. “This is hard for me, Y/N.”

“Well, let me make it easy then. I’m not gonna be that woman. The one who breaks up a marriage or begs you to want me. You can sign the papers or you cannot. The choice is yours. Either way, when it comes to this relationship, I’m out.” Steve’s eyes widened and he went to speak but you quickly cut him off. “Nope. We aren’t getting into it anymore. Now, where’s this patient I’m supposed to be helping with.”

Steve pointed behind him. “Down there. But, Y/N—“

“No.” You walked away, Steve following.

“Y/N—“

“No.”

Finally letting it go, Steve sighed and followed you into the patient’s room. There was a young woman on the bed.

“Good morning,” Steve greeted.

“Morning Dr. Rogers,” she responded.

“This is Dr. L/N.”

“Hello,” you greeted. “Can you tell us about your pain?”

“I’ve had a twinge in my back for a little while,” the young woman explained. “I thought it would go away, but then last night my legs went numb. And this morning my back… the pain is just too much.”

“Miss Yang, we’re going to put you on a PCA pump,” Steve said, “give you some morphine which should help control the pain.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay, but there is a bigger problem here. I’ve just take a look at your MRI—“

“Cris!” A man exclaimed, him and a woman rushing into the room and to the young woman’s bedside. “Why didn’t you call us before coming down here?”

“I’m sorry,” Cris said. She turned to look at you and Steve. “These are my parents.”

“What’s going on?”

“I was just about to explain that Cris’s MRI has shown that she has myxopapillary ependymoma,” Steve answered. “It’s a tumor in her spinal canal. But the good news is that we can operate. You have a 95% chance of fully if we get you into surgery as soon as possible. We can’t wait another moment. With a tumor this aggressive even waiting another day puts you at risk of permanent paralysis.”

“Father?” Cris questioned, looking to the man.

Mr. Yang shook his head. “No,” he said. “No surgery.”

“Mr. Yang, without surgery Cris will be paralyzed, probably within the next 24 hours,” Steve said.

“There will be no surgery today. We’re taking her home.”

“Cris needs the surgery,” you pressed.

“And she can have it at another time.”

“Look,” Steve tried again, “Mr. Yang—“

“We are taking our daughter home.”

Steve looked at Cris. “Cris, you are over 18. You don’t need your father’s consent.”

“I am Hmong, and my father is the elder,” Cris explained. “He says I go home, I go home.”

You could tell that Steve was holding back from a harsh reply. He gave Mr. Yang a nod before leaving the room, you following after him.

“Hmong? Let’s find out what that means,” Steve said.

“Do I continue to process her discharge?” You wondered.

“Yeah we have to. It’s insane, but we have to. It reminds me of this case I had one time and this woman came to the office and—“

“Look, do you need me for anything else work related?”

Steve looked around the hallway before pulling you into an on-call room with him.

“Look, I was married for 11 years,” Steve began. “Peggy is my family. That is 11 Thanksgivings, 11 birthdays and 11 Christmases. And in one day, I’m supposed to sign a piece of paper and end my family? A person doesn’t do that. Not without a little hesitation. I’m entitled to a little uncertainty here! At least a moment to understand the magnitude to what it means to cut somebody out of my life. I’m entitled to at least one moment of painful doubt. And a little understanding from you would be nice.”

“I am not fighting you on this,” you responded, opening the door. “Not anymore.”

You stormed away. Leaving both you and Steve in an confused state of anger.

~~~

Bruce was walking down the hall when he noticed Peggy.

“Dr. Rogers,” he greeted. “Still here, I see.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” she responded with a smile. “Have you seen the other Dr. Rogers by chance?”

“I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

“Thanks,” Peggy walked off and Natasha walked up.

“So, um, thanks for, uh, being there,” she said softly.

“No thanks needed,” Bruce responded.

“Okay.”

“So where are we?”

“Uh, the north-east corner of a medical center.” Bruce glared at her. “Oh, I’m, I’m getting back on my feet.”

“Fine.”

“That doesn’t mean that—“

“Natasha.”

“It’s my first day back, I’ve… I’ve got—“

“I’m not waiting forever.” The lights flickered, causing the two of them to glance up. “And, apparently, I’m not the only one.”

“Dr. Banner!” Nurse Vision jogged up. “There’s a problem with the elevator!”

“And?”

“Dr. Quill and Dr. Barton are stuck in it with your GSW patient that they were bringing up to the OR.”

“I should have fought harder for the pit,” Natasha grumbled.

~~~

“Lightning hit a sub station,” Maria Hill told Fury as they walked down the hall with Peggy. “We’re running on back up generators.” The medical center had lost its power. “One of them is down.”

Fury stopped, causing the others to do so as well. He rested his hands on his hips, annoyed.

“Breathe, Nick,” Peggy guided. “Breathe.”

“Don’t tell me to breathe, damn it!” He exclaimed. “The only direct means of transporting from the ER to the OR isn’t working. I’ll breathe if I wanna breathe.”

Fury huffed before making his way to the elevators. Gamora and Banner were there, watching some men pry open an elevator.

“How bad is it?” Fury asked.

“Two interns and a GSW to the chest,” Bruce explained.

Fury closed his eyes and put his hand to his forehead.

“Good air in,” Peggy coaxed, doing it herself. “Bad air out.”

Fury gave her a look before turning his attention back on the elevator. “Come on people! Get those doors open!”

The men working on the elevator doors, finally get the door partially open. Revealing that the elevator car was caught between floors. Peter and Clint were in there with their GSW patient.

“It’s jammed,” one of the workers said. “It won’t open anymore. This is as wide as it will go.”

“What did you two do?” Gamora asked the interns in the elevator, kneeling down to see them better.

“Nothing!” They both exclaimed.

“How’s the patient?” Bruce asked, getting down beside Gamora.

“He’s not looking so good,” Clint answered.

~~~

“Why do the lights keep flickering?” Cris asked.

“Something about a backup generator,” you answered, finishing up hooking the morphine up to her IV. “This pump will provide you with a morphine drip and should stop your pain.”

“I told you, I don’t need it. I’m going home.”

“You realize you’ll have to sign an AMA form stating that you’re leaving against medical advice.”

“Fine,” she nodded.

“I know this is new and confusing. I actually called a social worker, they’re willing to come down and talk to you—“

“Spare me the cultural divide, love. I grew up from the street down here. I play in a band. I get it. My father doesn’t. He says no, it’s no.”

“We’re talking about your ability to ever walk again.”

“That’s what you're talking about. I’m talking about my family. Have you ever even heard of the Hmong people?” You shook your head. “Our religion has got rules that are way old and way set in stone and way spiritual and you don’t mess with them.” She sighed. “You don’t anger the ancestors. Even if you pierce your tongue and play in a band.”

“What are the rules exactly?”

~~~

“Rogers!” Gamora shouted as she headed towards Steve. “You’re wife is looking for you.”

“I know,” he responded.

“Are you actively avoiding her?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

Gamora scoffed, shaking her head as she walked away. “You’ve got to deal with your problems before they all blow up in this medical center!”

“Steve,” you called, coming up beside him.

“Yes?” He replied, turning to look at you.

“You need to talk to Cris’s father. I’d do it myself but I guess having testicles is a requirement.”

Steve sighed. “Did you try social services?”

“They can’t help us. Mr. Yang believes that Cris is missing something that she needs for surgery.”

“Missing something? Missing what?”

“One of her souls. We don’t need someone from social services. We need a shaman.”

~~~

Peter and Clint were still stuck in the elevator with their patient, Tommy. The patient was getting delirious, trying to sit up and pull out the tubes and wires.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Peter asked, trying to stop him.

“I have to get home,” Tommy said.

“Tom, you’re in the hospital.”

He sat up. “Need to get home.” Clint and Peter quickly worked to restrain him. “No. Need to get home.”

Dr. Banner, hearing the commotion, peered through the small opening of the elevator doors. “What’s his blood pressure?” The attending asked.

“It’s not reading,” Clint informed. “He’s too agitated.”

“How’s his pulse?”

“Thready but it’s still there,” Peter answered.

“Do you have any instruments?”

“Uh, we have…” Peter quickly looked around. “Uh, just a code box and some gloves.”

“You didn’t bring an open chest tray?”

“No. We thought—“

“You don’t have time for excuses. Barton, blood pressure.”

“I’ve taken it 3 times,” Clint replied.

“And?”

“I can’t hear systolic over 50.” Clint looked down at Tommy, who is really pale and wheezing. “He’s gonna die.” Both interns look at each other, scared.

“Intubate him,” Bruce ordered. “I’ll be right back.” He went to push himself up off the floor.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“To get an instrument tray. You guys are going to have to open up his chest.”

Clint and Peter looked back at each, minds going a mile a minute as Banner stood up. Gamora was behind him, having heard the whole thing.

“Are you sure about having them open his chest?” Gamora asked.

“No,” he answered before he hurried away.

~~~

Chief Fury and Dr. Hill were walking down the hall together.

“This is incogitable,” Fury said. “There’s not enough power to move those elevators?”

“They’re doing what they can to replace the back up generator now,” Hill responded. “Fire department is standing by.”

“All critical patients?”

“Moved to the south wing.”

“Incoming trauma?”

“Re-routed to the other medical centers.”

“That damn back-up generator should’ve been replaced last year.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So why didn’t it happen? Dr. Hill, you know everything. Tell me whose ass I need to kick.”

“That would be your ass, Chief. You didn’t authorize the replacement generator to save money for the new MRI machine.”

Not wanting to show weakness, Fury walked away. Grumbling under his breath as he went.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Bruce to return to the elevator with the things the interns would need.

“This isn’t gonna be too sterile,” Bruce said as he got down to hand them the tools, “but we can still try. Prep and drape the patient.”

“On it,” Clint responded, quickly getting to work.

Peter stood there for a moment, nervously staring at Tommy. Eventually, he snapped out of it, shakily helping.

“Okay…” Peter breathed out once they were finished. “We’re really going to do this.”

Clint just looked at him, both interns feeling completely unprepared, as he kept squeezing air into the patient. Bruce stuck his hand back through with a pair of scissors and a scalpel in it. He hands them towards Peter, looking at him expectedly.

“Take these,” the attending said. Peter just looked at them, remaining still. “Quill, take the scalpel.” Peter just continued to stand frozen.

“Come on, Peter!” Clint exclaimed. “Take the damn scalpel!”

Dr. Banner looked at Peter, completely confused as to way the intern wasn’t moving. Bruce shook his hand to signal for Peter to take the instruments. But the intern looked away.

“Ventilate!” Clint demanded, annoyed at Peter as he shoved what he was holding into Peter’s hands. “I got it.” Clint swiped the instruments from Dr. Banner. He shot Peter an angry look. “Okay,” Clint looked to Dr. Banner. “What do I do?”

“Make a large anterior, lateral, mid-auxiliary incision in the 5th intercostal space,” Bruce directed.

“How—how large?”

“As long as possible. You need to get 2 hands in there. It needs to be long and deep. Use the scissors if you have to.” Peter then made eye contact with Bruce. “Quill, hold a light up for Barton while you’re ventilating. You can do that, right?”

Peter nodded, grabbing a flashlight from Banner. Clint took a deep breath. He was about to cut when Bruce startled him.

“Barton, be sure you don’t cut into the lobe of the heart,” Bruce warned.

“Uh… how—“ Clint paused to clear his throat. “How can I be sure of that?”

“You just have to be sure.”

“We’ll, uh, we’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Clint tried to joke before cutting into Pete’s chest.

~~~

You walked up to Cris’ room. Steve was standing outside, watching the patient and her father interact.

“Is the shaman here yet?” You asked.

“He’s late,” Steve replied. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “We need to get her into surgery right now.”

Before you really thought about it, you put a comforting hand on Steve’s arm. “It will work out.”

Steve looked down at your hand and then at you. You two stared at each other, lost in the others eyes. It was too long before you realized that you two were too close for your liking and that your hand was still on his arm.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, stepping back.

“Y/N, please just—“

You shook your head. “I’ll see how far our shaman’s out.” And you hurried away.

~~~

Bruce hadn’t moved from his viewpoint of inside the elevator. It had been a while now since Clint had cut into Tommy, but Bruce couldn’t see exactly what was going on.

“Barton, how are you doing down there?” He asked.

“Bruce,” Maria Hill said before Clint could answer. “The fire department’s here. They can get the doors open.”

“No!” Bruce turned to look at the crowd behind him. “Nobody moves. Nobody works not he elevator. I have an open chest and a very nervous intern in there. Keep them back until I give the word.” Dr. Hill nodded, motioning everyone back, before Bruce focused back on inside the elevator. “Clint.”

“I didn’t cut the heart or the lungs,” Clint answered, clearly surprised. “Dr. Banner, I didn’t cut the heart or the lungs!”

“Good, good. Very good. Now check for injuries and do a pericardiotomy.”

“Uh, I’ll need some lap pads, forceps, Metzenbaums and Satinksy clamps then.”

Bruce gave a light smile and a nod. “Yes, you will.”

Clint was quickly given the supplies and got to work.

“Okay… I’ve removed the small clot from the pericardium,” Clint informed Dr. Banner. “No obvious cardiac injuries.”

“Any change in the vitals?” Bruce wondered.

“BP’s still too low to register on the monitor,” Peter spoke up.

“We need to cross clamp the aorta.”

Clint grabbed the clamp from a tray next to him and put it through the opening.

“Stick your hand in and bluntly dissect down until you feel two tube-like structures,” Bruce guided. “The esophagus will be more medical and anterior.”

Clint stuck both his bands in the open chest. “Ah, I feel one tube that is easily collapsible and the other I store muscular, spongy. I can also feel the spine, just underneath it.”

“Yes, you’re touching the aorta.”

The intern grinned. “I’m touching the aorta.”

“Wrap the index finger of your left hand around it and apply a Satinsky clamp with your right hand.”

Clint put in the clamp. “Got it… Wait, I… I think I can localize the bleeding. I… Well… I think it’s coming from the inferior vena cava.”

“Can you find the lesion?”

“Yeah. Yeah… I think I can feel, ah—it’s too far in to repair.”

“Can you tell me how big it is?”

“Small, maybe… like, smaller than a dime.”

“Okay then Barton, I want you to take your finger and plug the hole.”

Clint nodded and did as directed. “I think I can feel his heart… it’s… it’s starting to fill more. It’s beating a little stronger.”

“Excellent. Keep your finger there.”

“Okay. Now what?”

“That’s it.”

“Really?” Bruce turned to lay on his back in relief. “I just stand here with my finger plugging the hole?”

“Yes. Until we can get you out of that elevator and into the OR.” Bruce lifted his head and looked at Dr. Hill. “Tell the fire department to get them out of there.”

“On it,” Hill responded.

Bruce rolled back over and looked at Clint. “Barton.”

“Yes, sir?” The intern replied.

“You just flew solo.”

~~~

“Okay, Cris. We’re going to shut off the PCA pump now,” you began explaining, “which means you will be in a lot of pain for the duration of the—“

“The healing ritual,” Cris interrupted.

“Are you going to be okay with that?”

“Yeah. I can’t find my soul if I’m medicated. No pain, no gain, right?”

“Just, tell me this… you believe in it all too, right? You’re not just doing this for your father.”

“I know it sounds like a load of crap but… just watch the ritual. You’ll see.”

“See what?”

“The moment it happens.” You nodded as the shaman came in with Cris’ family. She looked at them. “I’m ready.”

To give them some room, you and Steve watched and waiting from outside the room.

“How long do you think it takes to retrieve a lost soul?” Steve asked.

“I don’t know,” you replied.

You and Steve carefully watched the healing ritual. And you did see what Cris was talking about. The moment it happened. You didn’t have to believe in it, but you did find a new found respect for her beliefs.

~~~

During Cris’ surgery, you and Steve worked in tandem. You felt weighed down the whole time though. Peggy stood watch in the gallery, smiling down at Steve. He looked up every so often, always looking at his wife. You noticed each time.

You had already finished scrubbing out of surgery by the time Steve started himself. You were outside the scrub room, pacing. You couldn’t do this, this whole pretending to not care thing. It was too hard. You burst into the scrub room, Steve immediately looking at you.

“I lied,” you said. “I’m not out of this relationship. I’m in. I’m so in, it’s humiliating because here I am, going to beg—“

“Y/N,” Steve interrupted quietly.

“Just shut up. You say Y/N and I yell, remember?”

“Yeah.” He leaned away the sink, listening.

“Okay, here it is,” you took a deep breath. “Your choice. It’s simple.” You started to get emotional. Damn it, you loved this man too much. “Her or me. And I’m sure she’s really great. But, Steve… I love you… in a really, really big, “pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window”… unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me. Choose me. Love me.”

Steve was staring at you lovingly. He moved to touch you, but you pulled away.

“I’ll be at Happy’s tonight,” you continued. “So if you decide to sign the papers, meet me there.”

Then you walked out. Steve, distressed now, sighed. What was he going to do?

~~~

“Do you think he’ll show?” You asked, doing a tequila shot.

“He’ll show,” Happy said.

The door opened. You turned to the door hopefully, but it’s just Tony walking in. He came over, took off his suit coat and sat next to you at the bar.

“I got your message,” Tony said, motioning for Happy to get him a drink. “You gave him a choice, brave.” He nodded. “But he’s not stupid, though love does make you stupid sometimes. He’ll chose you.” Happy handed him a drink. “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?” You questioned. “I… I literally told him that I loved him. I’ve… I’ve never done that before.”

“He loves you too. He’s just an idiot.”

~~~

Steve was sitting in a doctor’s lounge at the hospital, fidgeting with a pen. The divorce papers were in a manila envelope on the table in front of him. Gamora entered the room, dressed up.

“How’s your patient?” Gamora asked as she put some things away. “The one who got her soul back?”

“She’s gonna be fine,” Steve responded. He looked up at took Gamora in. “Look at you. I’ve never seen you dressed up.”

“Yeah, well, I’m suppose to have a date tonight.”

“Yeah? Anyone I know?”

“Like I’d tell you.” Gamora noticed the pen in Steve’s hand and the envelope on the table. “You haven’t signed those divorce papers yet, have you?”

Steve shook his head. “Gamora.” He looked at her, pleading. “Tell me what to do.”

“Not a chance.”

“Why does this have to be so hard?”

“It’s not hard. It’s painful, but it’s not hard. You know what to do already. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be in this much pain.”

“I guess you’re right.” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t keep you. Good luck on your date.”

~~~

Natasha found Bruce in the stairwell, as he went to find an on-call room.

“Hey,” Natasha stopped him, “I… So…” She sighed. “Here’s where we are. I work too much. I’m competitive. I’m always right. And I snore.”

Bruce looked at her confused. “What?”

“I’m trying here.”

Still looking confused, Bruce took a moment to think it out. “Oh! Ohhhh…”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“Okay. We’re a couple. Whatever. DOn’t make a big deal about it.”

She began walking away. Natasha quickly paused though and turned around. She hurried to Bruce, kissed him, and hurried down the stairs.

~~~

Peggy found Steve in the doctor’s lounge.

“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking, well, everywhere for you.”

“Well, you found me,” Steve responded.

“So?” She glanced down at the envelope. “Are you going to sign those divorce papers or not?”

~~~

You were still waiting at the bar. Tony was there, but so was Pepper. So as he flirted with her, he kept an eye on you. Val, Clint, and Scott had joined you.

“He’s not going to come,” you sighed. “You all don’t think he’s coming.”

“He might come,” Val said.

“Yeah, you never know,” Scott agreed.

“He’s definitely coming,” Clint said. Val quickly kicked him from under the bar. “Ow. What? Do you want her doing tequila shots all night? I’ll be the one cleaning up the vomit. Besides, I feel good. I touched a heart today.”

The bell on the door went off again. They all turned to look, but it wasn’t Steve. You sighed and turned back to Happy.

“Pour me another one.”

next chapter >

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berriusagi · 4 years ago

Text

Stomach Bug Ch1

Morning Sickness

idea from @beautiful-disasters-sunshine this is the first fanfic I’ve written in years. If it’s bad let me know I’m just trying my best since I like this idea. In this fic Mari and Dami are 17/18 and Hawkmoth has been defeated so there’s no fighting during this pregnancy. dialog heavy so sorry in advance.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

The rare occurrence of a quiet and peaceful morning was always nice to have in a city like Gotham where despair and misfortune seemed to thrive. Occasions like this are often cherished but everyone knows to be wary as anything could ruin the moment, such as the retching and coughing coming from the bathroom that had two very concerned women and equally concerned miniature god standing outside the door.

“Marigold, are you okay?” Ivy asked gently knocking on the door wincing as she heard another painful retch from the other side of the door, “Darling open the door please.”

“I’m-” another broken cough was heard breaking the weak voice in the bathroom, “I’m… okay just some food poisoning I think.”

“Mari sweetie you’ve been puking your guts out for a week.” Harley said leaning on the door frame, “I don’t think it’s just some food poisoning. You need to see a doctor.”

“You’re a doctor,” Marinette said, her sickness seeming to have finally come to an end as she flushed the toilet.

“I’m a psychiatrist hon there’s a big difference.” Harley said looking at Ivy concerned as the sound of running water filled the silence as Marinette brushed her teeth, “We’re taking you to see a doctor if this was just a stomach bug you’d have gotten better by now.”

“She’s right Marinette,” Tikki said, settling onto Ivy’s shoulder as they all watched the door, “It’ll make us all feel better if you just see the doctor.”

Silence filled the area as they all waited for Marinette to reply before a soft sigh was heard and the door clicked open revealing an exhausted young woman, “I don’t want to be a bother.” she mumbled averting her eyes from the two women before her.

Ivy let out a soft sigh moving forward and pulled her close to her chest gently running her fingers through her hair as Tikki floated down to press into Marinette's neck to give her some comfort, “You are and never will be a burden to us, Marigold. We care for you and want the best so please don’t think something as unavoidable as getting sick is a burden.”

“She’s right darling we love you and want you to be safe and healthy so please let us take you to a doctor that’s licensed in medicine,” Harley said, stepping over to hug her effectively squishing Marinette between Ivy and herself.

Marinette closed her eyes and just took a moment to sort through her thoughts and take in the warmth of the two women that adopted her. Her life had been just on the wrong side of crazy for so long, Hawkmoth terrorizing everyone for having emotions, her friends and family turning on her because of one liar determined to ruin her life, having to hide her relationship from not only her very perceptive mothers but her boyfriends equally perceptive and just a touch insane family. All of that and now being sick with something just to put the cherry on top of an already bad situation. “Okay,” she mumbled after a prolonged moment and turned to bury her face into Ivy’s chest and breathed deep taking in the subtle earthy and floral notes that clung to her, “I’ll see a doctor.”

“Thank you,” Ivy smiled gently, kissing the crown of her head, and looked over at Harley with a measured look, “go and get ready and we’ll head on over to the clinic,” she said as both women stepped back to allow her to head over to her room.

Once she was gone and out of earshot Harley leaned over and in a stage whisper said, “10 bucks says she’s pregnant.”

“I’d disagree if not for the fact she’s trying to hide her relationship with the Wayne brat.” Ivy chuckled, shaking her head, “Let's hope it is just a stomach bug and not a stomach bug .” she said giving Harley a look as they went to change into more civilian clothing so as not to draw attention to themselves.

The three women made their way into a small clinic and got checked in taking a seat in the corner out of the way of others. Marinette was seated between the two nervous and practically sweating bullets as she gripped her sweater while her mind raced. A soft pressing on her thigh from Tikki gave her some ease as she stared down at her trembling hands. What if she was really sick and the financial cost would put her mothers in debt? What if she wasn’t sick and this was all a waste of time? What if they already think she’s being a burden and are waiting for her to get called in so they can leave her? What if-

“Miss. Isley-Quinzel?” A nurse called cutting through Marinette's internal struggle.

“Ah here!” she said jumping up her face beat red as she quickly made her way over to the nurse with her mothers following close behind.

“I’m sorry only one of you can come back.” The nurse said looking at the two women.

“I’ll stay this article was gettin good,” Harley said flopping back down into her seat and reopened the gossip rag she was reading. Ivy shook her head smiling and placed a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder and walked with her into the small room.

“So Miss what are you in for today?” the nurse asked closing the door so they could all have privacy and took a seat.

“I’ve been throwing up for the past week,” Marinette said taking a seat on the paper-lined table keeping her head down.

“Any other symptoms?” the nurse asked looking over the file in her hands, “fever, headaches, muscle pain?” they asked.

“No nothing like that… I have been getting more sick after eating, maybe I have food poisoning?” Marinette asked.

“Are you sick after eating every time or only certain foods?” the nurse asked.

“I’m not sure I haven’t paid much attention to what I eat that’s causing me to be sick,” she mumbled.

The nurse nodded making some notes, “well just to rule it out I’ll need you to take a pregnancy test.” they said, grabbing a little plastic cup and handing it to Marinette, “bathroom is just to the right of this room go fill this cup and we’ll see if we can get you some answers.” they smiled and opened the door to let Marinette out.

Marinette turned scarlet and then pale as she walked out of the room and went to the bathroom. Ivy watched her leave before pulling out her phone and sent a quick text to Harley, ‘Marigold is taking a pregnancy test. She looks terrified.’

‘I really think she’s pregnant. She’s been sick and she’s been turning away from some of her favorite foods.’ Harley shot back after a few moments.

Ivy nodded putting her phone away as Marinette came back and took her seat on the table once more. She seemed to be running through the worst possible scenarios as her face slowly morphed from a sickly pale to an even sicklier green as they waited for the nurse to return with the results.

What felt like hours to Marinette was only a few minutes as a doctor came in smiling softly to Marinette and Ivy. “Hello, I’m Doctor Beau.” She smiled pulling a seat over and looked over the file given, “You came in for problems with nausea?”

“Yes, my daughter has been throwing up all week and we’re concerned,” Ivy said as it looked like Marinette wouldn’t be able to speak without being sick again.

“It is quite concerning and as you know we do have to rule out certain options before we can administer tests.” Dr. Beau nodded looking over the files once more, “The pregnancy test we had your daughter take came back positive.” she said gently trying to gauge the two women.

Marinette went stock still as tears began to well in her eyes clouding her vision as her world seemed to come crashing down around her. Ivy moved quickly to stand by Marinette wrapping her up in a hug and stroked her hair and back. “It’s okay Marigold,” she soothed, grabbing some tissues to clean her face, “It’s going to be okay just breathe.”

“I can’t tell you what to do Miss.” Dr. Beau said, gaining Marinette’s attention, “However, I can give you some pamphlets and a referral to a nice OB-GYN, they can help you make the choice best for you.” she smiled gently getting up and wrote a quick script before handing it to Ivy along with some pamphlets.

Everything after seemed to happen in a blur. Marinette didn’t fully process anything until she was being seated on a soft couch and felt two bodies pressing firmly to either side of her. “Mari, sweetie, please talk to us.” Harley’s accented voice softly sounded from her left broke the dam on her emotions as she let out a broken sob.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” she cried curling in on herself as the two women quickly wrapped her up in a firm hug as Tikki pressed into her cheek all three talking over each other trying to soothe her.

“Marigold it happens.” Ivy said gently holding her face, “We’re not mad, disappointed, or upset with you.” she said wiping her face, “We are here to help you and support you in any decision you decide to make.”

“Do ya know who the daddy is?” Harley asked gently, rubbing her back trying to get her to settle down just a bit. Marinette took a shaky breath, her face blotchy and nose stuffy as she nodded her head, “Here’s what we’re gonna do okay hon. I’m goin to go make you some calming tea and you are goin to call your boyfriend and tell him to come over here. Okay?” she asked looking in Mari’s eyes.

Marinette nodded scrubbing her face with her sleeve as Tikki pulled her phone up for her to take.

~.~.~.~

On the other side of Gotham seated for breakfast and contemplating the benefits of mass homicide, Damian was eating his food as his family did their best to make him go off the deep end.

“I’m just saying!” Jason said munching on some bacon, “Maybe if he got laid he wouldn’t have a stick so far up his a-”

“That is enough Jason,” Bruce stated firmly as he rubbed his eyes exhaustion clearly written all over his face.

“You just don’t want to hear my reasoning,” Jason said flicking a piece of toast at him.

“No, I want to remain ignorant of my child's sex life. I already had to deal with Dick telling me everything I rather not hear your speculations.” He glared as the table fell silent for a few blissful moments as they all turned to look at a shameless Dick who just smiled and shrugged before a loud ringing cut through and all eyes turned to Damian as he pulled out his phone.

“Hello?” he asked his usual annoyance bleeding through before he seemed to pause as the other person on the line spoke, “What’s happening?” he asked as he quickly got to his feet, worry clear on his face as he rushed out of the room, “I’m coming habibti please stop crying.” was the last thing the other Wayne’s heard before the front door slammed shut.

“What...” Jason started staring wide-eyed at where Damian just vanished through

“...just happened?” Dick finished looking just as confused before everyone turned to look at Bruce for his reaction.

“Habibti means my love,” Bruce said in lieu of an answer as they all then turned to look at Tim as he tapped away on a tablet.

“Already tracking him,” Tim said as silence settled back over the room as everyone tried to process what just happened. In the opinion of everyone gathered it took much too long for Tim to tell them where Damian left in such a hurry before finally looking up at everyone and said, “He’s at Harley and Ivy’s.”

~.~.~.~

Damian quickly knocked on the door, his clothes a little disheveled and his hair a bit messy from his mad dash across the city to the apartment housing the Isley-Quinzels. Ivy opened the door and stepped aside to allow him to enter and watched as he ran over to Marinette who was on her fourth cup of calming tea her tears now dry but her mind still frazzled.

“Habibti, are you okay?” he asked, dropping in front of her as her eyes began to well with a new wave of tears, and sobs began to wrack her small body once more. Damian quickly picked her up holding her close and rubbed her back as she choked out apologies sobbing into his shoulder. “Habibti, you're making me really worried; what happened?” he asked, trying to get her to look at him.

Marinette took a slow shaky breath before pulling back and looked at him, her bluebell eyes filled with unshed tears before she softly croaked out, “I’m... pregnant.”

Damian’s eyes widened just slightly as he took in what she said a cold chill settling over his body as he stumbled back falling into the chair Harley quickly moved behind him to catch him. Marinette let out another sob and moved to get out of his hold only for him to hold onto her tighter, “You’re pregnant?” he asked just above a whisper as he stared through her.

She nodded biting her lip hard as she waited for him to shout, shove her away, anything to show his anger. Instead, he pulled her even closer burying his face in her neck, and let out a shaky laugh, “You’re pregnant.” he muttered, “I- I’m going to be a father.” he said, pulling back to look at her.

Tension seemed to leave Marinette like snow melting at the beginning of spring as she weakly smiled at him nodding, “If...” she coughed to clear her throat and scrubbed her face with her sleeve again to look at him, “If you want to...” she mumbled.

“Of course I want to Habibti.” Damian breathed hugging her tightly before pulling back to look down at her stomach and gently ran his fingers over the covered flesh, “I can’t believe this.” he muttered looking at her with awe.

Harley and Ivy smiled watching the two have their heartfelt moment before deciding to break it, “What’s your dad gonna say?” Harley asked cutting through the tender moment with as much grace as a blunt axe.

Damian felt another cold wave wash over him at the mention of his father as his eyes widened, “My family doesn’t know about you.” he muttered looking at Marinette.

“They’re going to think I did this to trap you,” Marinette mumbled her face going to a sickly green as she shoved her way out of Damian's arm and ran into the bathroom slamming it shut as retching filled the apartment once more.

“You have to tell them.” Harley said watching Damian, “before she starts showing she’s small so it’ll be obvious soon enough.”

The apartment fell into silence with the only sound being Marinette’s morning sickness for a long while before a ringing cut through and Damian pulled out his phone. Father clear as day showing on the screen for the awaiting call. Damian stared at it until it went silent and then lit up with another incoming call from Bruce. “I have to answer don’t I?” he asked looking over at Ivy and Harley.

“Unless you want them all stormin in here then yeah,” Harley said, sipping some of the tea she made for Marinette.

Damian sighed and took a deep breath before answering the call, “Hello father.”

#daminette #damianette #damidad #mominette #maribat #maridami #ml x dc #teen pregnancy #Stomach Bug

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yourtamaki · 4 years ago

Text

a kind dream, a cold reality

keigo x f!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, hurt no comfort, neglect

there was peace in stability. when exciting beginnings morphed into routine, safe knowing exactly how your days would pan out.

there was also distance. when love declarations became monotone, more habit then heartfelt and kisses become another chore to check off a list.

when did domesticity become purgatory, doomed to repeat actions until all sparks of life had been drained away?

you stood in the kitchen, preparing dinner nearly on autopilot. you didn’t have to look at the time anymore, you’re own internal clock telling you there was 30 minutes until it was done, perfectly timed for when keigo came home from work.

for when he’s supposed to come home at least.

you tried to not think of how many meals had gone cold while waiting for him to return from wherever it was he decided was important to be then with you. at least the neighbours loved you, accepting the countless dishes that would otherwise have gone to waste. you wondered what lie you should tell them today. that you had made too much? that you were trying out a new recipe? you had plenty of time to decide.

setting the table was now a mindless activity, each plate and piece of cutlery placed just so across the dining table. when everything was in its rightful place, you brought out the pasta dish, setting it in the middle in a large bowl with tongs propped up inside. you could never guess how much keigo would eat on any given day so it was always best to let him serve himself. with nothing left to do, you took your seat before the empty plate, staring blankly ahead at where keigo was supposed to be.

you used to love this table. it had been the first thing you and keigo had bought together when you first moved in together. not a bed or a couch. a dining room table from a second hand store he insisted you had to go to because, “we need something alive with memories, songbird.”

you remember how you had both spotted it at the same time. tucked away in the corner, legs scuffed to hell but with the most beautiful dark oak surface you’d ever seen. you hadn’t realized how small it was either until you both sat down for the first time with shitty takeout because neither of you had thought to buy cookware. it was impossible for your knees not to bump into keigo’s, for his thigh not to end up between yours. you both loved the table too much to return it so you had to learn to adjust. now, it was your favourite aspect about the table, the added feeling of closeness as you shared a meal with the love of your life. it set the tone for the rest of your house, turning it from somewhere to live to a shared home.

these days, you had more space then you knew what to do with, your legs could swing under the table unobstructed. you hated it.

your stomach growled, the sound quickly swallowed up by the vast silence. you didn’t want to eat. not yet, not while there was a chance he showed up and you wouldn’t ruin your first meal together in who knows how long just because you got a little peckish. you could wait.

and wait you did.

you plated up a portion for yourself as the setting sun darkened the house, eating mechanically until your fork had nothing left to pick up. the next part was almost a ritual at this point. storing the food away in tupperware, cleaning the dishes, wiping down the kitchen so come morning you could start the cycle once more. you had perfected the routine down to every last detail. there was nothing left to do but get ready to sleep and lay in bed, idly playing with the crimson feather that hung around your neck.

you could refrain from touching it throughout the day but you couldn’t stand not holding it when you were alone in the too wide bed. you were supposed to be surrounded by hundreds of these feathers. you missed the way his wings would wrap around you during the night, pulling you into keigo’s chest. sleep wasn’t the same without them but you had no choice but to make do with the lone feather.

was this going to be the rest of your life? cooking meals no one would eat, cleaning an already spotless house, sleeping cold and alone? this isn’t the future keigo promised you when he got down on one knee, tears already streaming down his face. you weren’t naive, you knew there would be hard times in your marriage. it couldn’t be sunshine and roses all the time. you just thought he would be by your side when those times came.

a tapping at the window had you shooting up in bed in fear, head whipping towards the sound. an all too familiar outline was hovering outside, waving for you to open the window. you carefully made your way across the dark room. you’d unlatched the large window so many times it had become muscle memory and soon enough, your husband was flying through, landing lightly on his feet.

for a brief moment, a warm burst of love filled you. he was home, just an arm’s length away. you knew you’d forgive everything, everything, if he wrapped you up in a tight hug. the one that hurt your ribs and left your feet dangling in the air as he swung you around. the one where you felt his laugh more than heard it, you were pressed so close to his chest. that’s all you needed to remind yourself what you were fighting for. just one hug.

keigo walked past you without a word and the moment died. you think a piece of you died with it. an important piece. it would remind you of the better times, when you weren’t a wife but a girlfriend. when you were a priority in his life, when you could count on him dropping everything if you needed him. the piece that kept you together, kept you whole was gone and in its place was not emptiness but indifference.

“you’re really not going to say anything?” you didn’t understand why your voice came out so hoarse until you realized it was the first time you’ve used it all day. keigo didn’t pause as you broke the silence, continuing to undress with his back to you.

“‘m tired, songbird. can we do this later?” can’t he feel it? the precipice your relationship is on the edge of, threatening to fall and shatter into a thousand pieces at any moment? it dawns on you, watching him yawn and stretch, shaking out his feathers, that no. he doesn’t.

“keigo.” he turned to face you, blinking at the use of his name. always kei, never keigo. “i think i need a break. ”

he huffed out a confused laugh. “break from what?”

“a break from us.” you never knew silence could be so cold. so cold it left you shivering in its grasp. that’s the only explanation of why you were shaking so hard you had to clench your teeth to stop them from chattering.

“that’s not funny, dove.”

“i’m not joking.”

“why?” it was your turn to laugh, a broken, shrill thing that hurt your ears.

“you can’t think of one reason? one reason i’d have to be unhappy in this relationship?”

“look, i know i’m not around much these days but-“

“days? try months.” you felt nauseous at the sight of him, pale faced and eyes that darted around like a cornered animal looking for an escape. distantly, you realized this was unfair to him. you had ambushed him, gave him no preparation for what was quickly turning into a fight. but the hurt that had been growing inside you, gnarled and twisted with thorns that wrapped around your heart and shredded it with every beat demanded to be heard. you could flood your home with all the pain you housed.

“i’m sorry, songbird but i’m a hero. i work the hours commission tells me to. i can’t be here all day with you and you knew that when we first got together.”

“don’t try to make me sound unreasonable for wanting to spend time with my husband. i’m alone, keigo.”

“i know.”

“no you don’t! i am alone. i don’t have friends cause they all used me to get close to the number two hero. i had to sign a contract that said i wasn’t allowed to tell anyone where we lived. i don’t leave the house cause i’m terrified of someone recognizing me and using me against you. i am alone, keigo. with not even myself for company cause i don’t know who i am anymore outside of being your wife.”

he bowed his head, shoulders shaking though you didn’t know from what, his wings curling in as if to protect himself from your rant. “do you still love me?”

you sighed, your mouth opening and closing trying to think of how best to phrase what you felt towards him, “if i didn’t love you, i wouldn’t be telling you all this. i would’ve just left.”

“then stay. please. we can work through this. i'll be better, i’ll cut my hours. please, y/n. i can’t lose you.”

“i love you, kei. but i don’t think i was ever meant to be your wife.”

he was openly crying now, teary eyes meeting your dry ones. you didn’t know when you’d moved past that stage of grief but you were beyond grateful. it gave you the strength to power through this for the both of you. you owed him at least that kindness.

“that’s all you wanted once.” he whispered.

“the dream was kinder to me than the reality.” the truth of your statement was a punch to the gut. you’d wanted nothing more then to marry him, had daydreamed about it long before he popped the question. it felt like an inevitability. an intrinsic truth. the sky was blue. grass is green. you would be keigo’s wife someday. but love alone wasn’t enough to keep you two afloat. not when you’d been left alone to man a sinking ship. “i’ll take the couch and pack in the morning.”

“no! please if… if this is the last time…”

“it’s not forever, kei. just until i remember who i am outside of these walls.”

“still, can i hold you? please? just for tonight.”

you never could refuse him.

your bodies fit back together as though no time had passed since they’ve last held each other. despite the air still tense with emotion, you felt your body relax in his grasp, conditioned to associating the warmth of his chest against your back with safety. you knew in the morning, you’d wake up happy. the memories from tonight would be slow to trickle back in. but that was a problem for the future. tonight, you would savour the bliss of falling asleep with the person you loved most in the world. and you did love him. loved him so much it hurt. loved him enough to take this step back so he wouldn’t blame himself when he woke up one day and realized his wife had become a shell of herself.

#hawks x reader #hawks imagine #bnha x reader #bnha imagine #keigo imagine #keigo x reader #mha x reader #mha imagine #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo imagines

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scapegrace74-blog · 4 years ago

Text

New Ways of Turning into Stone, Chapter 3

A/N As promised, Jamie returns in this chapter. He has an appointment to keep, after all. Because I can’t think of anything more creative, this chapter is entitled “Second Appointment”. For previous chapters, your best bet is to check out the story on my AO3 page.

The week both crept and flew past, like one of those dreams in which she ran until her lungs burned, but never managed to get anywhere. Kinetic motion trapped in amber. Claire never did tell Geillis about her excursion to Corstorphine Hill over the weekend, embarrassed by how it had ended.

And now it was Thursday. She’d opted for a protein smoothie for lunch, a meal with no chance of leaving leafy residue between her teeth. It was likely wasted vanity. As two o’clock drew near, she bargained with herself to abandon any hope she may be harbouring. Jamie Fraser had shown no interest in participating in the psychiatric process during his first appointment. Fraternal obligation had brought him to her office once, but he didn’t strike her as a man who yielded the reins of his life easily. It wasn’t likely he would return.

When it came his distinctive knock, crisp and insistent, caught her unawares, even though she’d just been staring at his name in her planner. She hastily pushed the items on her desk to one side, patted uselessly at her curls, and called out for him to enter.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Beauchamp,” he greeted cautiously. “Miss Duncan told me tae come straight in.”

There was something different about him today. His clothing, certainly. Instead of casual wear, he wore trousers and a button down, wet splotches over the shoulders attesting to the fact that it had begun raining again. And while he still took up an inordinate amount of space in her small office, he seemed... diminished, somehow. A paler echo of the fireworks display of his first visit.

“Of course. Please have a seat, Mister Fraser.”

“Jamie, if you will,” he corrected as he settled gingerly into the armchair. “Mister Fraser was my Da.”

Something about his tone and the fact his laser blue eyes wouldn’t meet her own as he spoke the words caused her to lean into his statement.

“Did your father pass away recently, Jamie?”

A moment, an indrawn breath of panic, and then it was cleverly masked with a wry glance.

“Aye, last year. An’ yer no’ very subtle, doctor.”

“I didn’t realize subtlety was called for,” she parried. “You made another appointment, and I specialize in grief counselling. Why else would you be here?”

Despite the fact that it wasn’t productive from a psychiatric point of view, she enjoyed his reluctance to hastily expose his inner demons. Too often, her practice required her to work carefully in order to avoid shaping the pliable emotions of her patients. While obviously hurting, Jamie had an unflinching, unalterable quality that she admired. Not to mention that the intellectual game of cat and mouse they were playing was wildly stimulating.

“I suppose I enjoyed our conversation,” Jamie teased. “An’ Miss Duncan’s shortbread.”

With an awkward squint that she imagined was meant to be a wink, her patient rose to investigate the current offerings on her tea table.

“Och, petit fours!” he exclaimed with childlike glee and perfect French pronunciation. “There was a café none too far from my flat in Paris tha’ made these. I’d often grab some on my way tae the office.”

He returned to the desk with a small plate of the pastries, pushing it towards her as he settled into his seat.

“No, thank you. I’ve just eaten.”

Like a searchlight, his bright eyes didn’t miss much. He glanced significantly at the half-empty plastic smoothie container to one side of her desk. Rather than chide her for her austerity, as Geillis frequently did, he instead made a show of biting into each of the four little squares until there was nothing left but crumbs. Her stomach muttered in complaint.

“What did you do in Paris?” she asked as he finished his snack with a contented sigh.

“Oh, a wee bit of this and that,” he demurred. In response to her exasperated look, he continued, “I started out at the Bourse. Futures, options, arbitrage, that sort of thing. I have a good ear fer languages, sae from there I went into foreign exchange. Import export, and the like.”

“You’re a financier?” she asked, somewhat more incredulous than she ought to be. She wasn’t certain what she had pictured James Fraser doing for a living, but greasing the wheels of capitalism definitely wasn’t it.

“Was,” he corrected. “I quit an’ came home tae Scotland last year.”

“When your father died,” she guessed.

“Aye.”

She once again had the sense of standing in front of a locked door that Jamie had no intention of opening. Rather than hammer uselessly on its stubborn surface, she nimbly diverted the conversation sideways.

“What do you do for work now?”

A slow blink followed by a dawning smile indicated he was aware of her stratagem.

“I’m a carpenter.”

It was rare for Claire to be truly surprised by people. She made a living reading their unspoken cues. Twice in the same conversation was unheard of.

“A carpenter?” she repeated as though she hadn’t heard him perfectly well the first time.

“Aye. Like Jesus, ye ken?”

With a quicksilver grin, Jamie launched into a description of his current occupation, which involved the making of reproduction antiques and custom pieces for clients around Scotland. She realized with a start that she’d read an article about his business in a popular local magazine.

International financier. Self-made entrepreneur. Tall drink of water. James Fraser had a lot of things going for him. And yet here he sat, paying her by the hour to listen to him avoid talking about whatever hardship had befallen him.

She mentally composed a list of the topics he was deftly avoiding with his charming anecdotes. His father’s recent death. The reason behind a radical change in career. Living in the city on account of unspoken ‘family obligations’, even though his verbal reminiscence of the Highlands was so poetic it damn near made her cry. There was something raw just below the surface of his nonchalance, and her innate curiosity cried out to find out what it was.

“You told me last week that your sister, Jenny, insisted you attend counselling. But you said that you’re handling matters fine on your own. Can you tell me why your sister believes otherwise?”

It might have been amusing to see such a large man squirm in different circumstances. His left hand furrowed through his hair, setting the autumn waves on end. His mouth, so recently relaxed and mobile as he eagerly shared the details of his craft, froze in a pained frown. She considered whether she had pushed too hard too soon.

“I gave a lot of thought tae what ye said when we parted last week,” Jamie began at last. “Tae be honest, it haunted me. Jen kens me better than anyone, an’ while I like tae complain tha’ she meddles where she doesna belong, the truth is she’s truly scared fer me. An’ even if I dinna agree tha’ my lifestyle is cause fer concern, I owe it tae her tae try tae sort myself out. I owe her far more than that,” he finished with a rueful shake of his head.

“What kind of lifestyle has your sister so worried?” she probed.

“Whisky, women and song,” he quipped, before adding, “Weel, I canna carry a tune, but twa out of three isna half bad.”

He tried to smile away the awkward tension that descended on the office, the air ripe with unspoken words. Claire felt disappointment whirlpool in her gut. Just another charming rake, after all. It really shouldn’t matter, and yet somehow it did. More than she dared to admit.

“Yes, well, the road of excess leads to the palace of consequences, ” she sniffed at last, angry at herself for sounding like a schoolmarm. What a bore she must seem to him, with her regimented behaviour and rigid morals.

Jamie rose abruptly, and for a half-second she imagined he might lunge at her, or storm from the room. Instead, he spun around to face the door. Without a word, he untucked his shirt and began to expose his lower back.

Claire was momentarily stunned silent. Just as she managed to draw a deep enough breath to censure Jamie for his highly inappropriate strip tease, the golden velour of his lower back transformed without warning into a furrowed landscape of scar tissue, ripples and craters left by some massive trauma. The air left her lungs on a questioning sigh.

“I ken all about consequences, Doctor Beauchamp,” he stated. “I live with them every moment of my life.”

Her fingers found the knotted skin, surprisingly warm and mobile beneath her touch. A shiver shimmered over the unmarred muscle of his flanks.

Before she could find any appropriate words of apology, the office door opened and Geillis stuck her head in. She barked a cough upon seeing Jamie’s state of undress and Claire’s position, leaning across her desk. Doctor and patient jumped apart like opposing magnets.

“Sae sorry for the interruption, but yer three o’clock is here. Should I tell her ye’ve been... delayed?”

Jamie muttered an obscenity under his breath which Claire whole-heartedly seconded. There was no way Geillis wasn’t going to be utterly insufferable about this.

“Mister Fraser was just leaving, Geillis.”

With a lewd wink and a nod, the door closed.

“Look, Jamie...” she began just as he apologized. “I’m sae sorry, lass.”

They both laughed nervously. Jamie finished tucking his shirt into his pants and turned to face the desk.

“I hope this willna cause ye any difficulties with Miss Duncan,” he began, eyes wide with concern.

“No more so than usual,” she sighed. “Geillis is a good friend. She just... doesn’t know when to quit, sometimes,” she explained.

“Sounds jus’ like my sister. Perhaps we should introduce them.”

She smiled, struggling to find something else to say to move past the moment. She could hear Geillis and her next patient conversing just outside the door. There was no time left for subtlety.

“Will I see you again next week, Jamie?” she asked, giving up on finding a more oblique way of phrasing the question that was reverberating through her mind.

Jamie’s bashful smile dipped towards the floor, causing his hair to fall in front of his eyes.

“Aye. I’ll even keep my clothes on, if ye ask nicely.”

It was that smile, that hair, those eyes, that carried her through the rest of her week, aloft on the anticipation of something utterly forbidden.

#my writing #outlander

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arteacactus · 4 years ago

Note

Can we get a sick fic Janus hiding in his room until someone else breaks down the door? Cause he thought no one would care

this is so out of nowhere bc i like never get fic requests here anymore it’s like always on my sideblog hissceit ,, but it’s 10000% welcome and appreciated JDFJFD thank u .. also i apologize for how needlessly wordy this is HAHA i strayed from the prompt like .. a lot

warnings for sickness , the coughs , vomiting, sore throat , etc , the whole shebang-- and some cursing

-----

It’s not that Janus had never been sick before, it’s just that...

Well, he’d never been sick before.

He wasn’t positive why (which irked him; he hated being in the dark about things, especially things concerning himself), but he had some theories- the most plausible one thus far simply being that while Thomas had always viewed the Light Sides as human, to some extent, he saw Janus as a two-faced snake; a monster kept hidden away in the shadows under his bed. And monsters didn’t get touched by things like disease. So while the others got touched with sickness occasionally, Janus never did.

But if Janus was getting sick now..

That implied that after he told them his name, Thomas started seeing him as somewhat human, too, with vulnerabilities like the rest.

He wasn’t sure just how he felt about that, but he didn’t love it (he liked being untouchable, okay?).

Ah, well, Janus supposed the why didn’t matter much at the moment. He could ponder that after the fact.

Right now was the time to think about how to end it, because it was pure torture.

He was too hot and too cold all at once, his head throbbed and his body ached in places he never knew could ache, his eyes were sore and oozing and his nose wasn’t faring much better. His throat was raw as if he’d spent hours and hours screaming at nothing, and even after trudging his way into the Dark Side’s kitchen for a cup of tea (though it was more like a cup of honey and lemon with a hint of green tea), it felt absolutely no better; in fact, he just felt worse, because he had to leave bed, go downstairs, spend twenty minutes standing around to make the tea, and then go back up the stairs to his room again.

He’d been fidgeting with his blankets for the past three hours; having them on made him too hot, having them off made him too cold, and so he settled for having one leg covered and nothing else (oddly enough, this was actually a good compromise). The air in his room was hot and stuffy which certainly didn’t help- nor did it help his sinuses any, as it made his headache pound worse and his airways were thoroughly blocked off. He dreaded drinking or swallowing anything as it sent the most uncomfortably painful sensation down his throat and rendered him to a groaning, pained mess.

He clutched his pillow weakly, pressing his head into the hot surface. He hated this. Usually, he thrived in the heat, as his room was typically colder than a jail cell, but this time he wanted it gone. He wished it was winter, just so he could full-body launch himself into a mound of snow and sleep for eternity.

He felt a slight tug, the distinct feeling of someone requesting his presence, and promptly shooed it away. Not only was he just wearing pants, but he was sick, and he’d rather die than show that level of weakness to anybody.

Three days before, when he’d first felt his symptoms come on, he’d briefly considered going to someone for help; perhaps Remus, because he was his best friend, or Logan, because surely he’d know how to handle diseases and how to cure them, or maybe even Patton, because he was a father figure and might have even made him soup- but he had quickly banished the thought. Sure, maybe they knew his name now, but they still really didn’t like him and had absolutely no reason to help him and not laugh at his predicament.

Well. Remus liked him well enough, but he would have just taken his morning star and bashed Janus across the head with it and called it good, so Janus had to pass on that.

Another tug came, a little more forcefully this time, and Janus dismissed it, just as forcefully. For a little precaution, he took a deep breath and waved his hand, locking up his room so no one could rise up/appear in it, nor could they come through his door. The strain it put on him to maintain that lock was almost enough to make him pass out, but he didn’t dare remove it; he couldn’t risk anybody seeing him in this state.

He forced his body to roll over to the side, pressing his face into his pillow and sighing in relief as his nose unplugged just enough to take a deep breath in. He found himself actually wishing he’d sneeze, just for the temporary relief it brought.

He pointedly ignored the next few tugs that hit him, though they weren’t as forceful and harsh as the past couple were. He could only assume the only reason they actually wanted him up there was to lecture him, because him being incapacitated like this surely was affecting Thomas in some way that they didn’t like.

Well, sucks to be them, Janus thought in mild frustration, I’m staying right here until this all goes away and I don’t want to die anymore.

Eventually, the incessant tugging slowed to a stop, and then they finally left him alone.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Janus curled his body into a tight ball, cringing at the sticky feeling of his sweaty skin against his silk sheets, and tried to fall asleep.

Thankfully, sleep claimed him easily, and he drifted off.

However easily it came, though, it certainly wasn’t very forgiving.

He didn't wake up randomly, but he kept getting thrown so many vivid nightmares and odd, fever-induced dreams that he almost wished he was waking up every few minutes, if only to get away from whatever things his mind kept throwing at him.

He wasn’t awake, but he was aware of his own constant tossing and turning, his bed creaking in protest every time he thrashed and threw his body around the mattress, and when he finally did open his eyes (his throbbing head wasn’t very appreciative of it), he realized he’d somehow twisted himself so his head was at the foot of his bead and his blankets had been fully tossed onto the floor. His pillows weren’t faring much better; only two of his usual six remained in place, and they were mangled to death, the rest on the floor with his blankets.

Janus truly couldn’t bring himself to give a damn- instead, he weakly pushed his body upright, trying not to topple over as his head swam, and fell right back down in the proper position. Thankfully, though, his head not touching the pillows in a while meant they were delightfully chilled, and he moaned aloud at the lovely sensation it brought him. Absently he wondered if he should gather the strength to get himself an ice pack or run an ice bath, but thought better of it. After all, he was still part snake; he’d rather not throw himself into a self-induced comatose state from the cold.

He blindly reached out and grabbed ahold of his bedside clock, a little antique thing he designed himself to fit his aesthetic despite being very poor at reading Roman numerals, and squinted as he tried to decipher how long he’d been asleep for.

He nearly dropped the thing upon realizing he’d slept for eleven straight hours.

He slid it back onto his nightstand and groaned loudly, though it quickly turned into a pained, chest-wracking cough. He couldn’t avoid it; he had to get up and eat something, or drink something, or get literally anything in his body, because whether he liked it or not, that was the only way he was going to get over this thing quicker.

He managed to move just enough to get up and off the bed (nevermind the fact he nearly fell straight on the floor the second he stood), and took a couple shaky steps towards the door. The moment he reached out to turn the knob, though, the knocking started.

He froze, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stared wide-eyed at the piece of wood in front of him, the only thing separating him from them.

There was a call of ‘Janus?’ that was so soft, Janus didn’t actually know who it came from; but that didn’t matter now, because the doorknob was turning and fuck, when did he let go of his lock?

Janus snapped his fingers, and managed to summon all but his hat when the door opened and revealed- much to his surprise- Virgil.

Janus and Virgil blinked at each other for a moment, dumbfounded, but thankfully, Virgil didn’t seem to see anything off about him, and just lowered his gaze and shrunk into his hoodie, refusing to meet Janus’ eyes.

“We- uh, they were trying to call you earlier today, you know.” Virgil’s voice was low and gruff, and Janus could honestly say this was the best possible Side to come see him. Remus was loud and shrill, Patton was too cheery and Roman was boisterous- Logan probably wouldn’t have been awful, but with his insistence to look everyone in the eye as he spoke to them, Janus was sure he’d have deciphered what was going on in a second.

“I’m aware,” Janus replied, internally cringing at his rough tone. He cleared his throat, which was screaming in protest at speaking.

Virgil didn't seem to notice- or if he did, he didn’t care. “Well. You made them worry, and they sent me to come collect you.”

“Worr- Collect?” Janus echoed in confusion, taken off guard by everything Virgil said.

“Yeah, uh, you worried them so now they won’t take no for an answer. You’re gonna have to come with me.” Virgil, at least, seemed a little sheepish saying this, but he also has a particularly determined and frustrated look to him. Clearly, he wasn’t happy being the one picked to come ‘collect’ Janus, and he wasn’t going to take no from him as an answer, either.

“Wh-” Janus was cut off as Virgil gripped his arm, and any protests he could have made died on his tongue as they started moving. Dizziness attacked him with such ferocity that he was honestly astounded that he hadn’t immediately fallen over, and his stomach lurched at the speed they were moving. Of course, he didn’t bring this up, just took a deep breath and pushed through. After all, Virgil was the last person he wanted to know about his current state.

Once Virgil brought them across the line that separated the Dark Sides from the Light Sides, the immediate bright artificial light from the lamps and ceiling lights making his head pound in a way that was even worse than what the red light of the heat lamps in the snake terrariums in his room caused.

The air here, though, was clear and fresh, and he basked in the coolness of it as it surrounded him. If it wasn’t for the lights, he’d almost be tempted ask to stay for a while.

Once they made it to the living room, Virgil released him from his grasp, and slunk over into his own corner in the stairwell- and Janus found himself standing right next to Logan.

Unfortunately, they were all staring at him.

Time to put your acting skills to work, Janus, he thought to himself as he heaved an internal sigh, and plastered a toothy grin on his face that bared his sharp canines just enough to make them flinch away.

“So. I was summoned?” His throat protested speech, but thankfully his voice came out smooth and silky, not one bit of it hinting towards his predicament.

“Yeah, and you never answered..?” Thomas seemed more concerned than anything, but Janus definitely saw some suspicion on Roman’s expression (he couldn’t blame him, after how his name reveal went), and Patton was more fidgety than usual. Logan, bless him, didn’t seem to be acting any different, and Virgil looked just as bored as he usually was.

Remus, however...

Well, Remus was looking at Janus with a suspicious gaze similar to Roman’s but far more scrutinizing. Janus briefly felt a flare of panic. If there was anyone here to notice he was off, it would be his best friend, who he lived with and saw every day.

“I was resting, Thomas, would you blame your personification of self-preservation for taking a day off for self-care?” Janus’ tone was exasperated. He wasn’t lying, not really; he was resting, and he was taking a day off for self-care.

Just.. more than one day.

“Respectfully, I have to.. what is the term, ‘call bullshit’?” Came Logan’s voice next to him, and he hoped to God that Logan didn’t notice Janus’ feverish tremors. “You’ve been MIA for the past few days, and it’s escalated to the point where Thomas is beginning to react to it. There is something else going on, and we’d like to know what’s going on.”

Ah, yes, for the good of Thomas, Janus couldn’t help but think a little bitterly, Really, I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like they’d worry about my wellbeing. “I’m afraid I wasn’t bullshitting you, Logan,” Janus replied coolly, “It was the truth.”

“Then how come your room looked trashier than Remus’?” Virgil’s voice, where earlier it was comfortingly gruff, was now an offputting growl. Despite his words, though, Janus could tell he was trying to act like he didn’t actually care. He took note of that, because Virgil caring about him was odd.

“Rearranging,” Janus replied simply, and hoped they took that alone as an acceptable answer.

Of course, they didn’t.

“You never rearrange,” Virgil’s tone turned accusatory, and then Patton cut in.

“Well, maybe then that’s why he’s doing it now? For something fresh?” He sounded hopeful, as if he couldn’t wait for this entire conversation to be over. Janus felt similarly.

“I’ve lived with him, Patton, I know him, and it’s not something that happens.” Virgil argued, but this seemed to set off Remus as he cut in with, “And you left, so who are you to claim you ‘know him’?”

This sparked an argument amongst themselves, as they fought over the sudden new topic that thankfully centered around Virgil more than anything, and with Logan, Roman, and Thomas trying to mediate, there was no attention put on him anymore.

Janus took this momentary distraction to let out a sigh of relief, the mix of loud voices and trying to act like nothing was up was doing absolutely no good for his headache and exhaustion. He mourned the loss of his hat, because he could have used that to hide his face away from the lights that were bearing down on him and making his skin feel uncomfortably hot.

Though perhaps that was from all the layers of his outfit.

Unfortunately, though, as the seconds passed, the voices seemed to get louder, the lights got brighter, the clothes got hotter and his stomach was churning, his hands were sweating, his head was pounding his legs were getting shaky oh god his ears were ringing oh fuck fuck stop the noise please turn off the lights please stop please stop-

Distantly, he felt his throat start hurting intensely and he realized he was speaking out loud, stammering out pleads that were growing muffled as everything swamped him. His hands raised to cover his ears, trying to drown out the noise around him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed, feeling something warm and wet trickle down his face- tears? Was he crying? No, surely he was just imagining the feeling- but before he hit the hard floor, he felt something grab a hold of him, long, spider-like fingers gripping the undersides of his arms like a lifeline. He felt sharp nails and soft ruffles and realized Remus had caught him, he must have run from his spot to catch him before he fell, and Janus felt the stinging gaze of everybody on him. He felt like a mouse that was dropped into a snake’s cage for feeding, cowering beneath the penetrating gaze of the predator before him. The roles were reversed, and he hated it.

He managed to pry open his own eyes- when had he shut them?- and the moment he saw the horrified gazes trained on him, he fled.

He forced himself from Remus’ arms and he vanished, retreating back to his room, where the lights were off and the curtains were shut and the only thing he had to deal with was the light of his snakes’ heat lamps.

The hot, stuffy air attacked him with a vengeance, though, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He stripped himself of his clothes again, his skin glistening, heat radiating off of his person.

He hurriedly locked up his room again, and fell to his knees beside his bed, and retched.

Thankfully, he’d managed to grab his trashcan, but it didn’t make him feel any less humiliated.

He thought he was doing himself a favor, hiding his state from all of them, but from not going to just one of them when he could, he had ended up breaking down in front of all of them.

Body trembling and chest heaving, Janus collapsed onto the hard floor beneath him, unable to pull himself onto his bed, and curled up into a tight ball.

He wanted this to end.

Janus was so caught up in his misery that he didn’t even notice pounding on his door, all of his senses wrapped up in himself, in his throbbing head and hot skin and burning throat and sore stomach and the sound of his blood pumping in his ears, until there was a deafening ‘crash’ and splinters of wood came flying into his room.

He flinched at the noise and forced himself to sit up, but the sudden movement made him gag, and he found himself panting like a dog trying to cool himself off and calm down his raging nausea.

There was a barrage of voices at first, but they were quickly hushed- from what, he didn’t know- and then a delightfully cold hand clutched his bicep, and he couldn’t hold back the relieved moan he let out in response.

“I’m gonna put you in bed, okay, Janus?” Came a soft voice- Remus- and Janus didn’t protest as he was gently lifted up by the Creative twin. Admittedly, he didn’t even know Remus could be that gentle, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

There was some quiet shuffling and the sound of a dull ‘smack’ and then someone cursing softly, but soon enough Janus was set down on a set of smooth cotton sheets, clean and cool, and an absolute blessing.

“Jan-Jan, why didn’t you tell us you were sick?” Remus’ tone was scolding, like a parent to a young child (ironic, considering Janus was the one who raised Remus), and Janus opened his eyes just enough to see Remus’ face swathed in the shadows of his room.

“Weak,” Janus croaked in reply, his voice wrecked, “Di’n.. wan’ see.”

“Your pride is going to be the death of you,” Remus sighed, and Janus heard some other voices pipe in.

“We would have helped you, Janus,” Thomas sounded sad, almost regretful. For what, Janus would never know.

“Indeed,” Logan’s voice was a comfort, Janus was willing to admit. “In fact, I will begin researching how to best care for this as soon as possible, so you are in utmost comfort while you recover.”

“I’ll make some soup,” Came Patton’s quiet promise, “And water, and tea.”

“I changed your bedsheets,” Roman seemed shy, “If you need me to, I can try and make a set that keeps you cooled down.”

Janus almost moaned aloud at the thought, and Roman must have seen it in his expression because he perked up right away.

“Sorry for, uh, dragging you away so forcefully,” Virgil muttered, and Janus just managed to flap his hand dismissively.

“You didn’ know.” He mumbled weakly, and he felt Remus’ cool touch brush away hair that clung to his sweaty forehead.

“And now we do. So we’re going to take care of you, because we care about you.” He promised in a tone with no room for argument, with the others murmuring in agreement behind him.

And for once, Janus believed him, and let himself be taken care of.

#vanna talks #ask #anonymous #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sickfic #fic #fanfic #sanders sides #tssides #thomas sanders #fanfiction #platonic dlamptr #with a slight focus on dukeceit i suppose #Anonymous

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emwritesfootball · 3 years ago

Text

I Want You | Dominic Calvert-Lewin

Word Count: 2,051

A/N: Yet another piece for @footballffbarbiex's On The Big Screen Challenge. Since I'm on the midseason finale of the episode of Grey's Anatomy that this is based off of, I figured I'd post this now. This is based off of Jackson and April, the scenes from the season 9 finale and season 10 episode 12, altered for the football world. I've had this sitting in my Docs since 1 January lmao. Enjoy xx

- - -

The gasp of the crowd of almost 40,000 at Goodison Park was simultaneous in the 38th minute when Dom was taken down by the opposition’s defense right as he was about to score. The tackle had been brutal and uncalled for, earning the centreback a straight red card from the referee while Dom stayed on the ground.

As if sensing catastrophe the medics and physio were on the pitch almost immediately. You held your breath, one hand clutching the fabric of the Everton jersey you wore while your other squeezed Lucas Digne’s hand. Your boyfriend tried to soothe you as best he could, but you were distraught. Dom was clearly in pain and clearly injured, and you couldn’t do a damn thing but watch him get carried off on a stretcher.

“I have to go to him,” you muttered, but Lucas stopped you.

“He’ll be fine, Chérie,” Lucas said, his voice low as his thumb rubbed circles over the back of your hand. “You know we’ve got the best medical team - they’re gonna take real good care of Dom, okay?”

“Mmhmm.” You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip to quell your unspoken fears.

Your mind was reeling as Richarlison took Dom’s place on the pitch, your stomach sick with nervousness for Dom. When you’d first started playing for the women’s team, Dominic had been your sidekick; he’d shown you around the stadium as well as the surrounding city. It hadn’t been long before you were falling for him, the two of you hooking up after an intense friendly between the men’s and women’s teams.

Over time, you’d started to fall for him, your friends-with-benefits relationship no longer enough for your heart. It had all gone wrong after a pregnancy scare - Dom telling you he was all in and saying he’d marry you and the two of you would raise the kid together. When you’d found out you weren’t pregnant and told him that he no longer had to worry about getting married, Dom had ended things then and there, both of you hurt for different reasons.

Soon after, he started “dating” (sleeping with) one of the physios. You hadn’t had any intention of getting involved with his teammate, but Lucas had come into your life as a friend while you’d been with Dom and things progressed after your break up. Now, you were engaged to Lucas, with a wedding coming up in less than six months - after an incredibly public proposal that you couldn’t say no to - but there was a part of your heart that still yearned for Dom.

The second Lucas let go of your hand, you were up out of your seat, flashing your pass as you raced through the tunnels at Goodison Park until you finally managed to locate Dom. The ambulance was silent while its lights flashed and you knew you didn’t have much time. Emergency personnel were loading him onto the ambulance and you were reacting within seconds.

“DOMINIC!” you shouted, panic racing through you. His name felt foreign on your tongue - you tried not to utter it if you could help it - but in that moment, it was all you had.

“Miss, you’re going to have to stand back,” one of the EMTs said, putting his hands on your shoulders.

The tears started to fall right then and you couldn’t stop them. “I...I need to see him. He’s my husband!” You stammered out the words in-between sobs, barely aware when the medic let you go and you rushed into the ambulance, the door slamming behind you as it lurched forward and started to race to the nearest hospital. You tried your best to stay out of the way while the medics worked, fighting back tears with every concerned look or sentence they shared with each other. Dom looked out of it and you hoped he’d been put on some painkillers, especially with the state of his arm. You hoped and prayed that his arm would be the worst of it, but you couldn’t be sure. You took his good hand in both of yours, pressing a kiss to the back of it as you whispered, “It’s okay, bubs. I’m here.”

***

People didn’t start arriving until almost two hours later, Dom’s girlfriend included. You didn’t know how many tears you’d cried in that timespan, your body physically exhausted from the day’s events. Lucas immediately found you in the waiting area, pulling you into a hug. “I was so worried about you, Chérie,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“S-Sorry,” you stuttered, feeling a new wave of tears coming on. “I just...I panicked and managed to convince them to let me ride in the ambulance with Dom and I…”

“It’s okay,” Lucas said, taking your face in his hands. “I’m glad Dom had you by his side.” Of course Lucas knew about your history with Dom but you’d always reassured him that he was the one you wanted and not Dom. Now, you weren’t so sure.

You snuck into Dom’s room right before visiting hours were set to end for the night. Lucas was waiting for you in the car park, warming up the car. A part of you felt guilty for what you were about to do, but after today you couldn’t stay silent.

Relief flooded you when you saw him sitting upright on the hospital bed, shirtless, his arm in a sling. The relief quickly faded, however, and all the other emotions you’d bottled up for the last six hours came bubbling up.

“What the hell, Dom?!” You screamed, rushing toward him. Tears were falling hard and fast as you shoved him, the nurse in the room who was checking his vitals came rushing over to stand between the two of you. “You could’ve died!” Sure, it was a little over-dramatic, but you had honestly thought you were going to lose him in the moment when he’d been down for over five minutes on the pitch.

The nurse calmed you down, not wanting to cause a scene. You didn’t either, but your emotions were so heightened it was almost like you were back in the ambulance scared out of your mind. “I’m fine, I swear,” you said, reassuring her when your breathing had slowed and you were starting to think properly.

“Okay,” she said, nodding and making her way towards the door. She turned to Dom, saying, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Dom gave her a grateful smile, turning his attention to you. “Don’t,” he said, his voice weary. “Whatever it is that’s buggin’ you, just keep it to yourself, alright?”

You froze, staring at him. Your mind was racing again and you were so consumed with flashbacks of him lying motionless on the pitch that you couldn't speak for a few moments. Dom stared back, lost. He vaguely remembered your presence in the back of the ambulance but up until this moment, he had been so sure that he’d just dreamed you up, the painkillers playing tricks on his mind.

You took a deep breath, needing all the air you could get in order to say what you wanted to say. “I want you...Dominic.” His name was barely a whisper on your lips, but Dom heard you as if you’d screamed it from the rooftops. You ran a hand through your hair, your voice breaking as you repeated the phrase. “I want you.” Your voice wavered on the last word and Dom wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

He said your name, disbelief colouring his tone, but you cut him off.

“I haven’t been fair to you, I know,” you began, stepping towards him until you were standing at the end of his hospital bed, “And I’ve-I’ve really hurt you-”

“You’re getting married,” Dominic said slowly, unsure if he was trying to convince you or himself of the reality the two of you were facing.

It was like you hadn’t heard him. “When I saw you lying there on the pitch after that collision and I thought you were gone, I-”

“You’re getting married.” He said it again, this time with more conviction.

You dried your tears, your resolve returning. When you spoke next, your words shocked both of you. “Unless you can give me a reason not to.”

Dom stared at you, unable to say anything. He internally weighed his options. A few months ago, getting married to you was all he could think about - now, he wasn’t so sure. The two of you had been through unbelievable hurdles in your relationship, but you were engaged to another man who also happened to be one of Dom’s teammates and Dom knew he couldn’t stand by and fuck up the team dynamic or your relationship with Lucas.

***

Ultimately, he’d said nothing that night and the two of you hadn’t spoken about it since. You continued planning your wedding to Lucas while maintaining a stilted version of a friendship with Dom, which was how Dom had ended up in the congregation at your wedding.

“Give them the strength to commit their love to one another. Unshakeable through any storm; unbreakable in the face of any stress; a promise we simply refuse to break.” The pastor spoke, but Dominic barely heard any of it, except when he said, “And you, YN and Lucas’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, please respond ‘we will’.”

Everyone responded, a chorus of “We will,” filling the quaint chapel.

Dominic didn't know what to do. He was acutely aware of his physio girlfriend by his side, but even more so aware of the fact that if he didn’t do something right now, he would lose you to his teammate forever. In that moment, nothing else mattered but his love for you and the love that he knew that you had for him.

The pastor continued to speak, but Dom heard nothing. He leaned in to his girlfriend, unsure what to say. “I, uh-” he started, pausing.

“What?” She asked, looking at him with curiosity that quickly turned into understanding.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m happy to be here today to be able to do this for you. I-” The pastor paused mid-sentence as Dominic stood up, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

You and Lucas were holding hands, your backs still to him. Finally, both of you turned to look at the commotion, shock written all over your face as your gaze connected with Dom’s. He flushed, giving the room a nervous smile before sitting back down.

The pastor chuckled nervously and for a brief moment, Dom wondered if he’d ever had anyone stop a wedding before. “YN and Lucas, I have known the two of you for quite some time and I’m happy to be here today-” he started again, and that’s when Dom knew he had to say something.

Dom took a deep breath, his mind made up.

“I love you,” he said, his voice deep and sure as he stood up for the second time. “I always have.”

You stared back at him, your eyes wide. If you were being honest, a part of you had dreamed about a moment like this - Dominic standing up and professing his love for you - but you hadn’t been prepared for it to actually happen.

Dom continued, “I love everything about you. Even the things I don’t like, I love.” You could feel Lucas fuming next to you. “And I want you with me.” Everyone was looking around in disbelief, but it was like nobody else existed but you and Dom in this moment. “I love you and I think that you love me, too.” He paused, his voice wavering. “Do you?”

You could feel Lucas’s eyes on you; your family’s, too, but there was only one person in the world you wanted right now and it wasn’t the man at the altar next to you.

“I do,” you said, your gaze fixed on Dom. “I do,” you repeated, stepping down off the altar and running towards the man who had been your whole world for longer than you cared to admit.

#my writing: dominic calvert lewin #dominic calvert lewin oneshot #dominic calvert lewin one shot #dominic calvert lewin imagine #dominic calvert lewin imagines #dominic calvert lewin x reader #dcl oneshot #dcl one shot #dcl imagine #dcl imagines #dcl x reader #amys2021challenge

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equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago

Note

For the whump for Supervillian... whipping?

Thank you for the ask! In reference to this post (I want to torture Supervillain some more so if you have any ideas, please send them in!)

Drowning Part 9

Masterlist

@shydragonrider @asrasmysoulmate @sunflower1000

Warnings: very gruesome whipping (flail, to be exact), torn flesh, blood, torture, betrayal, unrequited love, broken bones, desperation, crying, exhaustion, drowning (a little), restraints, inability to breathe, vomit, manhandling,

Supervillain's nose emerged from the water first, followed by the rest of his face. He gasped for breath, instinctively attempting to claw at his face, but the restraints made that impossible. He gagged, throwing up all the water that he swallowed and breathed.

"Done," a voice spoke. "Day four only took two tries. Medic, write that down."

Supervillain shuddered, water streaming down his cheeks... or were they tears? Supervillain didn't know, and didn't want to know, but the lump in the back of his throat confirmed that crying was indeed a possibility.

"Are we done then today Doc?" A hero spoke, his voice slightly quivering.

"Hmm," the doctor stepped into Supervillain's line of sight. "No."

Supervillain whimpered and pulled himself tighter to try and escape the doctor's sour breath against his cheeks.

"Bring him to the Interrogation Room."

Hands once again grappled onto every piece of bare skin on Supervillain's body. Maybe once he would've shrugged them off, spat out a snarky statement, but now he was too tired- too utterly exhausted- to anything more than just allow it to happen.

He wasn't placed on the gurney this time. Assistants and heroes carried him in a way that made him swing around like a hammock. His head dropped, overgrown hair brushing the ground ever so slightly. The position made all the blood rush to his head, which, in turn, made him undeniably dizzy.

His eyes, which he found closed, jostled around in weakened eye sockets. He dragged them open with much resistance and looked up. From his limited view of the world around him, he put together that he was being carried left... or was it right? He sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his own saliva dry and stream down his face.

Like every single room, the Interrogation Room was once again white, yet the cherrywood table in the center of the blanch room provided at least some contrast.

Supervillain was slumped upon that table- not set in a polite manner whatsoever. For a few seconds, he sat there, head lolling against his own shoulder, before getting his bearings.

Unlike previous torture sessions, Supervillain was not restrained or tied up in any manner. Heck, the room was completely vacant of any of those means other than a metal loop that could have handcuffs attached to it if necessary.

But in this case, it wasn't.

The doctor stepped in, scribbling something on the clipboard which seemed to be his only accessory.

"Get me some microphones," the doctor spoke into a walkie-talkie. "And the recording."

"Sir." The line clicked to leave the room silent other than the huffs of breath leaving Supervillain's nose.

"Supervillain," the doctor finally spoke up. "This is going to be your first test. Think of it as an end-of-chapter summary that is worth 95% percent of your grade."

"Aren't tests suppose to be at least somewhat revelant to the chapter? At least the unit?"

"I said it was a test right? Classic science tests with the wrong answer key and the like," the doctor replied. "Or an English test about prepositional phrases yet the pupil learned about parts of speech."

Supervillain snickered, yet he didn't find the doctor's apparent joke funny by any means. "I am not in middle school," he reminded the doctor with a sigh, but his anticipation obviously shone through his carefree demeanor.

The door opened and two skinny, pathetic looking interns ran in with devices that were certainly going to he used on Supervillain. He looked at a particular invention- a black cone with a bulb that was no doubt a taser in disguise- and bit his lip, sharp canines chewing into the moist flesh.

The other coddled, seemingly trying to block it from the captive's prying view, a large black box with extension cords and wires. Supervillain stiffened. It was a generator.

Or, maybe not, the wimpy kid carrying it would not be able to lift even a small generator a measly inch from the ground.

The intern with the impersonated microphone walked behind Supervillain. Being free of restraints, he shot his head around to watch- anything just to suspect the oncoming barbarism.

But two cold hands yanked his head back.

"You know," the doctor spoke, curt and smooth. "I was really hoping that we wouldn't have to tie you up, but that could easily be arranged..."

Supervillain grunted in reply.

The foreboding torture implement, also known as a black box, was placed in front of Supervillain. He could now examine the box.

He did and came to the conclusion that it was just a black box, with... speakers.

Speakers.

"This is a recording of Hero's voice," the doctor spoke, circling Supervillain and taking notes on his clipboard. "From today. To be precise on timing, it is live."

Supervillain shifted into a more upright position and eyed the speaker, but he didn't say a word. Heck, he didn't even acknowledge the doctor in any form.

Hero abandoned him. Left him to rot in the stupid lab like he was garbage. Maybe to her he was... but that was besides the point.

It was her whole facade that she put on when he was sick- when he was so feverish that he was to the point of delirium. The soft brushes of her hand through his hair- the hair that was now nearly past his ears. The warm embrace after a horrifying nightmare... it was all fake.

She didn't care, as much as her fingers and soft words wanted to him to think that, she just didn't.

The doctor started humming- a melodious tune that made the walls itch with nauseating prediction- as a long finger tapped a sunken button that, though Supervillain could not see, had the classic "On" branding.

"Go get the milk and flour." That was Hero's voice- her sweet purr, comforting tsk. Supervillain's chin trembled, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion.

"On it." And that was someone else's. Male, obviously, with the monotonous drawl. Deep too, oddly familiar in the sense of-

"Oh yeah Villain? Your henchman's wedding is tomorrow, are you sure that they don't need any help?"

The other voice was... Villain?

"She said that Fiance's parents are taking care of the last minute things, but I can ask again. Dear, we don't have any flour."

"Dang it." Hero again. Supervillain found himself floating towards the speaker, and soon, his hands were wrapped around it.

"I can go get some-"

"No, just use... here," a shuffle, cans and bags being dragged across wood. "Bread flour."

"Such a shame," the doctor's present voice interrupted Villain's reply. "This is really quite sickening. Actually, the whole concept of betrayal is."

Supervillain heard, but wasn't listening. Tears were welling up in his eyes... she gave up on him?

For Villain?

She left him to he drowned over and over again. Doomed him to endure unethical surgical procedures... to be free herself.

A tear spilled done Supervillain's cheek and onto his hands.

He hardly heard the doctor's swift order: "bring the whip", and when he finally realized, the metal was neatly embedded into his back's flesh.

He hissed, pushing away from the speaker in desperation. Surprisingly enough, no one stopped his resistance.

The whip felt to be wrapped in some form of metal barbs. They weren't barbs, of course, how unprofessional that would be. It was more like metal shards sticking out from the end. Kind of like a flail from the medieval times in a gruesome way.

The metal was roughly pulled from his muscles, leaving a larger wound than the intial strike did. Supervillain whimpered and stood up, swaying, and attempted to run away.

"We can make caramel popcorn instead."

"And watch a movie?"

The microphone was also speaking now, or so Supervillain thought through the haze of agony. Another blow smacked into him, this time between the shoulder blades.

Supervillain screamed and rushed into a corner, cowering.

"Or instead, let's get Starbucks and watch a movie. Black Widow is out, I know how much you like the Marvel series."

"Do you hear that?" The doctor spoke as another hot flash of pain overcame Supervillain's senses focalizing on his thigh. He leaned his head into the wall, sobbing quietly.

"Hero, she forgot about you," the doctor droned on. "Her and Villain... they are going to a movie together."

"S-shut-t u-up," Supervillain stuttered.

The whip clashed into Supervillain's knee. He felt bones crack and shatter... he yelped.

Adrenaline started pushing through his body, desperate to rid it of the incomprehensible pain that it was feeling. Supervillain stood up, favoring his right side, and stalked over to the assistant holding the whip.

"Supervillain, be smart. Is that poor boy over there the cause of your pain? If Hero was still here, taking her fair share of the punishment, you wouldn't have a broken knee," the doctor stepped into Supervillain's field of vision. "Why destroy someone innocent when you can destroy the guilty one?" The doctor gestured towards the speaker before nodding to his assistant.

The assistant shakily stepped forward and brought the whip down onto Supervillain's chest- who was too slow to react. He gasped for breath, collapsing to his hands and knees. Agony pounded into his chest until he was unable to breathe.

The whip came down onto his back again, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Then it came again, and again.

Supervillain rolled over in a rush to protect his back, but the flail just landed onto his stomach. He retched, spewing out vile vomit in one fluid motion before sobbing quietly again.

His brain, by some miracle, decided to block out the pain and focus on words.

The doctor's words, Villain's words.

Hero's words.

"We could share a frappuccino. Get a venti."

"Share as in..."

"Two straws."

"Under the moonlight, on a bench, in a park... forget the movie."

"Sounds romantic, my dear."

"Do you hear that tragedy?" The doctor said, breaking into the recorded people's conversation. "She has forsaken you. Left you here and moved on... not that she ever cared about you, it was more like an act of duty."

Supervillain pressed his sweaty face into the cool, tiled floor and closed his eyes.

The whip came again.

Supervillain let out a sob.

The metal shards pulled out skin, leaving it garbled.

They would be impossible to stitch up, if he was even given that luxury. He was most likely going to be pumped full of antibiotics and painkillers until his vitals were deemed stable...

The whip crashed into the back of his already broken knee.

"The roses are so lovely."

"Here."

"Thank you my Villain."

"You know how to end this, Supervillain." The speaker was placed in front of the bleeding person's face. "Destroy it. Destroy Hero's voice."

Supervillain groaned and shook his head. The pain, not just physical, but the piercing agony that tore his heart in into slivers of broken down vessels and veins, was intolerable- even dancing at the edge of unbearable- but her voice kept him stuck in reality. It kept him from drifting off into whatever void awaited him.

"Isn't it good?"

"Delicious."

Supervillain squeezed his eyes shut, fingers involuntarily moving against their own will.

"Destroy Hero."

Destroy Hero...

"The pain will be gone."

"You care about me?"

"More than anyone else in the world."

Hero's answer stung, even worse than the bite of the whip in his back, on his legs.

"She doesn't care. Nobody does. Stop being obstinate and care for yourself. Stop this misery. Destroy her."

Fingers laced over the speaker, clenching into fists.

"I love you."

"Destroy Hero."

The fist met with the box, silencing the dreadful voices just as Supervillain plunged into darkness.

#supervillain whumpee #hero whumper #heros and villains #torture tw #tw vomit #betrayal #blood tw #tw whipping #creepy whumper #writing

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simp-for-mha-men · 4 years ago

Text

𝕚 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖 (𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕚 𝕓𝕒𝕜𝕦𝕘𝕠𝕦 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣)

Request by @loxbbg: Drummer Bakugo x Lead singer Reader (ngl saw a TikTok and couldn’t help it) and they have a really lowkey relationship and the reader is singing bad romance and she goes up to Bakugo and is basically like singing to him he like drops his sticks mid play and kisses her sending the crowd crzy and there other band mates (the rest of bakusquard) are like called it

A/N: If anybody asks, this isn’t one of my biggest fantasies. Also, no, I didn’t listen to Bad Romance a couple times before this to try and nail the ‘ole Tik Tok high note. Anywho, I love this idea! Enjoy this trainwreck of a concert!

Genre: female reader, musician/band au, swearing cause it’s Bakugou, established relationship, pg-13 due to some vulgar-ish things and a suggestive ending, the fans losing their minds over you and Bakugou 💥❤️

Word count: 2.8k

♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥*♥

“You are such an asshole,” you groaned, pushing your boyfriend on the couch.

“You are such a bitch,” he growled, pulling you onto to his lap to engage in a messy make-out session.

It was the U.A. International Music Festival, and your group, known as The Chaos Crew, was headlining the event. Today was the first performance, ushering in the exclusive guests who paid extra for V.I.P. status. To say the least, Katsuki Bakugou, your boyfriend and drummer, was a lot more annoying than usual. Some examples were how the kisses you shared were rougher, the hand holding was almost painful with how tight he squeezed, and the mic checks were filled with intense staring. However, the band didn’t know you two were together, making the situation much worse.

Somehow, your other friends turned bandmates Eijirou Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and Mina Ashido agreed to pursue the dream with you when you first offered up the idea. Bakugou took more convincing. He thought you were the most idiotic person on the planet. His superiority complex only became worse when you asked him if he could be the drummer for your new group. He agreed after hearing you beg for a couple weeks straight, which began the slippery slope of flirtatious tension.

Despite you two being together all the time, the flirting wasn’t obvious. Bakugou would notice your skirts when they were just a bit shorter, and you would notice when his shirts when they got just a bit tighter. Neither of you ever let the other one know, though. Both of you despised each other so much that it would be the death of either of you for your secrets to get out.

One day, this changed during a photoshoot for your first magazine article. A rival band, known as The Pros, was at the shoot, and their lead singer, Deku, was asking you questions whenever you weren’t working. You didn’t mind it. You actually found it flattering how interested he was in your vocal range. However, after watching Deku “flirt” with you, Bakugou dragged you to the green room.

Slamming the door, he turned around and asked, “Are you fucking blind, (y/n)?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“You heard me. He’s flirting with you for fuck’s sake! Tell him to just leave before I knock it into him.”

His overprotectiveness shocked you. You were more than confused. You weren’t that pretty, so Deku couldn’t be flirting with you. Your hair was well put together, your makeup was done nicely, and you were dressed with just a tad bit of sexiness, but you still looked average. It didn’t add up.

“Deku is not flirting with me,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “He’s just assessing the competition.”

“He’s staring at your tits and waiting for your little skirt to flip up,” Bakugou replied, clenching his fist.

“Ugh, stop being so vulgar!”

“I’m being honest, princess.”

Marching over to him, you met his gaze. Waiting for him to continue with another statement, you stood in front of him and didn’t cower under his stare. Instead of getting an earful, you felt pressure on your lips. He kissed you, and you loved it. You loved it too much. He was like a drug, and your first hit left you wanting more.

You ended up spending the next 30 minutes in the green room making out and telling each other how much you hated it. It was true love, and after this experience, you began dating each other in private. Your family knew and so did his, but your bandmates didn’t. At least, you both were in agreement about that.

As time went on, The Chaos Crew began rising in the charts. After releasing 3 number one singles, you started touring and gaining a much bigger fan base. The Chaos Children, or what your fanbase called themselves, began doing every celebrity’s nightmare in a matter of weeks: shipping. The most popular ship within your band was, you guessed it, you and Bakugou. This was a running joke between Denki and Sero, but little did they know it was already a sailing ship. This only made you keep your relationship even more private.

Now, back to the U.A. International Music Festival. The feverish kiss ended, leaving you and your hot-headed boyfriend panting messes. Leaning into him, you nuzzled your face in his neck. You pressed a kiss to his collarbone before stopping to just inhale his scent.

“Since when are you so needy?” Bakugou joked, mocking you.

“Since when did you start acting like a child?” you snapped back.

You yelped, realizing Bakugou had slapped your exposed thigh. Whenever you both were performing, he felt the need to have his hands on you at all times. The band and fanbase, however, couldn’t know about you two. It would be too detrimental to your career.

“When am I gonna see you in my room?” Bakugou asked, rubbing where a red mark was forming due to his slap.

“Tonight,” you coyly replied.

“Oh really? Will you be wearing my favorite little outfit?”

“Of course, I will.”

Suddenly, a loud knock interrupted your rendezvous. Brushing yourself off, you leaped off of Bakugou’s lap and stood up as formally as possible. Of course, you two had snuck off together. You couldn’t just tell everyone you were going somewhere with Bakugou alone. However, you were relieved to hear a familiar voice on the other side.

“Bakugou? (y/n)?” Mina called, waiting for either of you to reply.

“Come on in, babe,” you replied, saying it a little too quickly.

Mina opened the door and smirked when she saw you two. She had her suspicions about the two of you, but they were never confirmed nor denied. She knew she might never get her ship to sail, but she would never tell either of you that.

“What do you want, Bug Eyes?” Bakugou grumbled.

“Not much,” Mina shrugged, “but I have news. We have a schedule change.”

At this, Bakugou exchanged a look with you. A schedule change during the U.A. Festival was like waiting outside of a store for days for a limited-edition item then leaving and never buying it. Someone dropped their act for later that night. There was no other possibility.

“Sero got an update from Shinsou,” Mina stated, “and it looks like Deku broke his ankle from a stunt during their last show. They can’t perform tonight.”

Bakugou smirked, and you punched him in the arm. Ever since the photoshoot, he despised Deku. It was as if they were born to be rivals, which made you laugh a little.

“What’s the plan?” you questioned, knowing that Shinsou, one of the event directors, had already made one.

“We’re taking half of their slot,” Mina smiled, shoving a set list into Bakugou’s hands. “The other half is going to Itsuka Kendo, the new solo artist. She’s going first, and then we’re up.”

“We planning on singing from a particular era?” Bakugou asked, focusing more on the set list rather than the conversation.

“They don’t want us singing our songs,” Mina replied, causing both you and Bakugou to choke on air. “They want us to cover popular music.”

“We have no idea why, though. It’s kind of stupid, if you ask me,” Denki complained, walking in with Kirishima and Sero hot on his tail.

Upon their entrance, the boys came over to give you a hug and congratulate you on the earlier show. It went off without a hitch, and they insisted they give you credit since it was due. However, when a question about you and Bakugou running off came up, Bakugou immediately stepped in and said he wanted to jot down some lyric ideas. A game of playful banter began and went on for about 5 minutes before Shinsou entered the room.

“Well, it’s good to see that our fill-ins are ready for tonight,” he chuckled, walking over to place a hand on Denki’s shoulder. “You guys ready?”

“Obviously,” Bakugou grinned. “How bad can it be? We’re just performing covers. It’ll be just like the old days.”

Immediately, your first performances and venues came to mind. Run-down bars and covers were normal for a few months before getting signed on by Shouta Aizawa, president of 1-A Records. After that, you were able to write your own music and live your dream.

“Yeah,” you chimed in, moving closer to Bakugou, “we can perform the last cover set we did before we got signed.”

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima yelled, pumping his fist in the air. “The Bad Romance Set was always my favorite.”

Everyone was in agreement. Shinsou trusted you all enough to bid you farewell for a few hours before you were called back on stage. The Bad Romance Set was, simply, the best cover set The Chaos Crew ever played. It was a tribute to Lady Gaga, and it celebrated her amazing career. Mina was the Beyoncé to your Gaga on Telephone. Kirishima was the killer guitarist during Shallow. Bakugou was the best drummer on the planet during Bad Romance, the huge finale piece of the set. It was the perfect set to get the crowd hyped and into the show.

Soon enough, the show was about to start. Itsuka was on her last song, a personal tribute to her ex-boyfriend. You were gussied up in all black, sporting a short mini skirt, a low-cut shirt, and a leather jacket. It was perfect. You looked like you could kill anyone that crossed your path, and you probably could. It only attracted your boyfriend even more to the prospect of getting handsy before the show.

“Come on, sexy,” he growled, kissing under you ear. “Let’s do it. We’ve got a few minutes.”

“No,” you responded, pushing him away. “We have to stay focused. You know our ground rules.”

Rolling his eyes, he kept trying and trying and trying. After denying him multiple times, he smacked your ass before sulking away to sit at his drum set on the dark stage. Once he did that, the rest of your bandmates followed his lead and walked on stage. The lights went up, causing the crowd to lose their minds over your presence. Glancing back at your boyfriend, you nodded your head to signal him to start the first song.

The act went wonderful. When you sang to the audience, you could tell the hardcore Gaga fans from the fakes. However, no one seemed disappointed in the set. Everyone thought it was fun and easy to dance to. It was very clear, though, that everyone was waiting on one song: Bad Romance. After 25 minutes of Gaga hits, you glanced back at Bakugou and nodded your head again.

Once the drums began for the final song, the rest of the band chimed in to start the melody. Immediately, the crowd recognized it and sang the opening verse with you. Mina chimed in with her amazing voice to layer your vocals. Sero and Denki had the electric guitar and synth timed perfectly with one another, which only added to Kirishima’s bass. Bakugou, of course, played his drums with passion and never took his eyes off of you.

Once the first bridge of the song arrived, your bandmates began growing with excitement. Your singing ability was always incredible to them, but the first time you nailed the added high note in the final chorus of Bad Romance, they knew you would be their lead vocalist. The moment was fast approaching, and you took the mic from the stand.

Finishing up the second bridge, you walked around to personally serenade each of your bandmates. First, Mina and you made sure to twirl each other, causing her to chuckle just a bit. You sauntered over to Denki, jamming out on an air guitar to compliment his real one. Next, Sero was graced with your presence, and he added a riff to impress the crowd. Kirishima was surprised, and you both exchanged flirtatious winks at one another. However, these actions annoyed Bakugou to no end. His blood was boiling, and his jealousy was rising. He needed to show these extras exactly who you belonged to.

The final chorus began, and you arrived at Bakugou’s drum set. To tease the fans just a bit, you decided you were going to belt the high note right next to your boyfriend. Besides, this entire song was about him and you. This song was the most important one in the whole set because of that. You knew it would give the audience the best reaction and moment to capture on film.

I want your love, and all your lover's revenge You and me could write a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance

The crowd went wild. A constant chant of “(y/n)” was repeated over and over again and filled the venue. The end of the song was close, and Bakugou’s patience was running thin. You didn’t move, stuck next to his drum set. Whether you were trying to prove a point or your affection for him made his brain hurt. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep it a secret anymore.

“Want your bad romance,” you sang, finishing off the song as dramatically as possible.

Leaping out of his seat, Bakugou threw down his sticks and bounded over to you before wrapping his arms around you. He pressed his lips to yours, claiming you in front of everyone watching. You fumbled with the mic before successfully flicking the off switch and let it fall to the ground. You wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into him. He tapped your hip, signaling you to jump. You happily obliged, basking in the way his calloused hands gripped your thighs.

Screams filled the venue. Fangirls cried about the way Bakugou held you while others cried because he was holding you and not them. Paparazzi snapped as many photos as possible, hoping to capture the best photo that could be put up on TMZ. Parents tried to cover their children’s eyes because they thought the scene was so vulgar. Oh yeah, you guys were definitely going to be trending on Twitter.

In a flash, the lights went dark across the entire venue. The screams didn’t cease, even when an announcement came over the loudspeakers. It wasn’t heard the first time, probably since you and Bakugou broke everyone there. However, speaker volume could be raised, and the announcement could be heard through the crowd on the second try.

“Attention festival guests,” the lovely voice began, “tonight’s performances are over. Thank you for attending the V.I.P. exclusive day. We hope to see you all tomorrow for the first official day. Have a wonderful night and stay rockin’!”

Before groans of protest could be heard, your band was escorted off stage and immediately into your limousine. Your were able to successfully avoid paparazzi, but that didn’t mean you and Bakugou were safe. You had your friends, and they were all nosy in their own ways.

“It was the photoshoot,” Kirishima began.

“Yeah! Come on, you wouldn’t stop glaring at Deku, Bakugou!” Mina grinned.

“We knew you both were together,” Sero smirked.

“Yeah, come on! You think we didn’t notice when you guys would run off to lock lips and do who knows what else?” Denki added on.

Bakugou was more than pissed off. After the onslaught of statements brought to the table, Bakugou effectively shut them up by yelling, “If any of you touch my girl, I’ll your kick your asses. Got it?”

“Whatever you say,” Kirishima replied, flashing a grin and a thumbs-up.

“Just use protection!” Mina reminded, forcing some questionable hand gestures and noises from Denki and Sero.

After 15 minutes of torture, the limo arrived at the five-star hotel. In a matter of seconds, Bakugou had opened the door and picked you up bridal style so he could carry you up to the room. You had all booked the penthouse, since the U.A. Festival was such a big deal. You each had your own room, but you figured you two might have free reign of the whole place for while due to Mina’s previous innuendo.

Once you arrived in Bakugou’s room, he plopped you down on the bed. Smirking at you, he removed his shirt and went to get something a bit more comfortable out of his suitcase. You couldn’t help but look at the beautiful muscles that adorned his body. It made you feel hot and a little flustered.

“Go change,” he commanded, turning around to face you again.

You chuckled and replied, “Oh, come on. You know me.”

You slipped off your leather jacket, bending forward just a bit to let him gaze at your cleavage. He licked his lips and threw down the extra shirt he had grabbed. Walking over to you, he roughly grabbed your hips and pulled your body into his.

Leaning forward, you smirked and whispered in his ear, “I already have the set on. Wanna help me get out of it?”

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katehuntington · 4 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part 25) Fandom: Supernatural Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: ±6900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part 25: Y/N and Dean struggle with the aftermath of their split. Working together proves to be difficult, but other relationships within the ranch family took a hit as well. When the cowboy thinks the day can’t get much worse, complications arise, forcing him to make yet another difficult decision. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak, slowburn. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: (opening scene) The Eye - Brandi Carlile. (Ride with Meadow scene) Home - Hans Zimmer. Follow ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Beta’d by my mom (yes, you read that right. My mom reads my stuff and is on Tumblr). Thank you, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish, @kittenofdoomage, @manawhaat, @waywardbeanie, @atc74, and @winchest09 for helping me with this story. Also a special thanks to @jules-1999, who has offered me her knowledge about rodeo events like these, and @squirrelnotsam, who knows Arizona like the back of her hand.

Ride With Me Masterlist

With frustrated motions, Y/N stuffs her clothes into a bag, not even bothered to sort the items out. Her cheeks are tear-stained once again and she wipes at them angrily. Stop crying, it won’t get you anywhere, she scolds herself, done with feeling this emotional. After all, today is Monday, just another day at the ranch, and they have a lot of work to do. Garth and Ellen did the necessary stable work, but the horses which are usually trained by Jo, Dean, and herself had three days off while their riders were in Flagstaff.

Dean. Just the name reverberating in her head forces her to pause her actions. She dips her chin, closes her eyes, and takes a breath. Why? That’s the question she keeps asking herself. Why did he break up with her? Why did he pretend to care, only to hurt her the way he did? Why has he become so bitter, so selfish, so unlike the man she thought he was?

The questions remain unanswered, and she doesn’t expect they will give her any consolation either. That was the whole issue to begin with, wasn’t it? He can’t be honest. Apparently, he doesn’t think she’s capable of bearing the load he is meant to share with his partner. Apparently, she’s not good enough. Just like she didn’t meet her first boyfriend’s standards, who got tired of her spending more time with her horses than with him. Her second relationship ended in a fiasco as well, this time it was his jealousy of her success that caused the split. Yesterday proved that the third time clearly isn’t a charm. But neither of her previous significant others ever caused a cataclysm as the one Dean has left behind. Her heart is a wasteland now.

“Are you leaving?” She’s pulled away from her thoughts by Jo’s voice, her tone matching the horrified expression on her face. She stands in the doorway, looking down at the open suitcase on the floor and the unzipped bag. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes what the scene must look like. “No. I’m just sorting out my washing,” she says quickly. “Oh…” the blonde cowgirl sighs, relieved. “For a second there I thought--” “I won’t let your scumbag cousin chase me away, Jo,” her friend assures her.

Truth be told, though, she has been thinking about it. Last night she had typed down her information on a booking website, ready to confirm her flight back to Freeport, but as her finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button, she closed the tab and slammed her laptop closed. The intern came here on a mission. She is going to prove to her parents and to herself that she has what it takes to run her own ranch and that she deserves that business loan. She is not going to abort just because her heart is broken, come hell or high water.

“Well, good. I would have roped you like a cow and tied you to the saddle anyway,” Jo scoffs, leaning against the doorframe.

The cowgirl chuckles as she collects the last of her dirty laundry, zips up the bag, and puts it on the bed. The sight of the not-particularly comfortable mattress has her wishing she could crawl back under the covers and get some much-needed sleep. That’s not an option, however, and so she takes her hat from the corner bedpost and places it on her head. Before she goes out, she quickly checks her makeup in the mirror, but thankfully her tears haven’t smudged her waterproof eyeliner and mascara, and her foundation is still covering the bags under her eyes. It’s been a while since she hid behind the beauty-products, but the confidence Dean gave her has disappeared the second he ended their relationship, so she put her mask back on. There is no way she will give her ex-boyfriend the satisfaction of witnessing just how broken she is.

Y/N inhales deeply and squares her shoulders, lifting her chin as she stares at her reflection. The woman who looks back at her is fierce and resilient; the complete opposite of the little girl that’s hiding inside. Of course, she doesn’t want to face the day nor the man who hurt her, but she is left with no choice. There is so much more at stake here; her future, her career. This is business, and she will treat it as such. Y/N glances at Jo, giving her a nod, and her friend smiles faintly doing the same.

Rubbing his tired eyes, Dean pours himself his third cup of coffee. Saying that he had a rough night, is putting it mildly. The first digit of his alarm clock had already changed into a ‘2’ when he finally drifted off, only to jolt awake an hour and a half later, his bedsheets clinging to his sweat-covered skin. For the first time in years, a nightmare has caused havoc, images of his worst memories coming through cracks in the walls he built around all that childhood trauma. After freshening up, he laid in bed again while last night’s events alternated with those same disturbing scenes he saw in his dreams, the sad motion picture of sorrow and heartbreak projected on the ceiling. He gave up on sleeping around four-thirty in the morning, got dressed, and sat out on the porch until the sun came up. But no matter how hard he focused on the sounds of the night that tried to soothe him, he couldn't get her out of his mind. The pain laced in her desperate voice, the tears that fell because of him. But after those hurtful images, he also remembers that bright smile, her giggles, the sparkle in her eyes when she has achieved something. Her tenderness, her touch… It hasn’t even been twelve hours and he’s already craving Y/N, fighting an addiction for a drug he can never have again. The girl who is no longer his Yankee.

A door squeaks and Dean glances aside, immediately redirecting his gaze back to the coffee mug on the small kitchen counter when Y/N comes into view, followed suit by Jo. Instantly, the tension in the living room shoots through the roof, the crooked, little bunkhouse barely able to maintain the strain. He doesn’t say anything, but thankfully Garth and Benny do exchange a ‘good morning’ with the girls, the silence interrupted by the casual exchange.

He spots her perfectly applied makeup, her hair tied back in a tight ponytail that doesn’t allow a single strand to escape the rubber band. Her shirt is neatly tucked into her jeans, ironed and spotless, just like the day when she arrived at the ranch. Even though she looks breathtaking, the vision saddens him; she’s back to being the woman who needs to have everything under control. He gets it, though, because when she took his advice to loosen up, she let her guard down. If she had kept both hands on the reins, Y/N would have never allowed him to get so close and comfortable. Dean only made things worse for her, and now she was left to pick up the pieces of all that he broke.

Without saying a word, he grabs his coffee and pushes the door handle down to make his exit, not wanting to make her life more difficult than he already has.

Ultimately, this Monday was bound to get worse with every passing minute. Dean decided to get an early start before breakfast and got on the tractor, but when the ranch hand tried to back up in order to drag the arena, he couldn't get the old John Deere into reverse. A glance underneath soon determined why and he exclaimed a loud ‘fuck!’ when he detected the puddle of gearbox-oil on the dusty ground. Turning the fresh horses out only added to his agitation, especially when the youngsters stirred up the palomino stallion Led while the wrangler was hand-walking him. The Quarter is still recovering from the nasty tendon injury he suffered on the job, and isn’t supposed to be bouncing off the concrete like a rubber ball on a leash, but tell that to an energetic horse who has barely been out of his box for the past month. Garth readied a horse for his boss, which he managed to ride before breakfast, but Dean was unfocused and gave up after thirty minutes.

Now, they were all quietly eating their breakfast, the delicious meal giving them some consolation. Ellen observes the awfully silent crew, exchanging a look with her daughter, who with a slow shake of her head tells her mother to not bring it up, and so she doesn’t. The head wrangler is the first to get up from his seat, rinse his plate in the sink, and return to the stables. The others follow his example, the barn soon buzzing with activity.

Y/N works like a dog, mucking out the stable in record time without pausing. It’s a good distraction for her reeling mind, the hard labor ridding her of the frustration that boils her blood whenever she thinks of the man who ruined her faith in true love. Garth, sensing that the intern was fine on her own, took the tough job of raking the arena by hand, since machinery has let them down. Meanwhile, Jo and Dean train the animals as per usual, but there’s no bantering between them during the cool down. In fact, the wrangler’s cousin has decided to ignore him altogether.

Getting more irritated with every second passing, the horseman dismounts the six-year-old gelding named Santana, deciding that a light workout is enough for today. The wrangler is always careful to not let his emotions bleed into his work, but he’s finding it difficult to keep himself in check. Jo has already parked her horse next to the bay Quarter and has tacked down the buckskin without granting Dean a look. He sighs; Jo is not easily going to forgive him for hurting her friend, but he still tries to break the stifling silence.

“Can you pass me the water?” he asks, nodding at the yellow garden hose that’s rolled up by the faucet. Without even granting him a look, the ranch owner’s daughter throws the showerhead in his direction, the nozzle clattering on the tiles in front of Dean’s feet. He sighs, annoyed. “So this is how it’s gonna be?” he scoffs. “I get that you’re mad, but you can at least t--” “I have nothing to say to you,” she snaps.

It’s not the first time Jo is angry with him, because the two have a habit of getting on each other’s nerves. This time it’s different, though, and the bitterness in her tone sends a clear message that he has burned his bridges. Gritting his teeth, he lets the comment slide, deciding that it’s useless to fire back a counter. She has a solid point after all; he doesn’t deserve her sympathy in the slightest. Figuring that these will be the only words they exchange for at least a couple of days, the cowboy begins to hose down Santana, when Jo turns on her heels with her horse’s lead rope in one hand and her fist firmly planted on her waist. “You know what? I do have something to say. You just don’t get to speak in return,” she kicks off, about to unleash her wrath. Dean lifts his gaze from the dirt and sweat that he’s washing out of his horse’s coat, for the first time looking into his cousin’s fiery eyes. The petit cowgirl, who is easily nine inches shorter than the man before her, is intimidating nonetheless. He takes a breath, bracing himself for impact. Here it comes.

“You’re a cold-hearted, spineless, self-absorbed dick, know that? For once in your life, you’ve got something good goin’, someone who was willing to look past your gigantic ego and your daddy issues, yet the first thing you do when life gets tough, is drop her like a hot potato. Do you have any idea how much pain you’ve caused the poor girl? Because I do! She wouldn’t want me to tell you this, but she cried for hours, hours, and that’s on you! Guess who had to comfort her, huh?” Jo goes off. “I am so far past mad; I am furious! I really thought you had finally found a reason to change into something better than the abbreviated piece of nothing that you are now, but it seems like Y/N wasn’t the only one who was naive.” “You done?” the wrangler says coldly when she pauses to catch her breath. “Go hump a cactus, Dean,” she sneers.

With those words, Jo strides away, the large animal next to her obediently following her, well aware that now is not the time to be stubborn. The man who’s left with the poignant insults still echoing inside his head, pulls at his bottom lip with his teeth, staring at his feet for a second before he sniffs and focuses on the task at hand again. He might have pretended that her message left him unbothered, but the opposite is true. Jo could as well slap him across the face; it would hurt less.

Defeated, the wrangler takes Santana to his box and removes the halter from the large animal’s head. The sweet horse seeks contact, nudging her nose against Dean’s shoulder. He rubs the Quarter’s withers before he exits the stable, appreciating the only kindness that he’s received so far this morning.

“Dean?” He tenses, not expecting his name to fall off the lips of the woman who he parted from only yesterday. When the cowboy meets her gaze, the look Y/N gives him is as cold as the tone of her voice. “I need a word,” she says, although it sounds more like a demand. “S - sure,” he stutters, glancing down briefly before he looks back up again, suddenly nervous. He’s not sure if he can handle being scolded by his ex-girlfriend as well. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together anymore,” she states formally. “I’d like a new supervisor.”

Dean cocks his head back slightly, unbalanced by the appeal. He rubs his temple, averting his eyes but then nods, acknowledging that she’s probably right, even though the request is a painful one. “Yeah, uh - sure. I’ll ask Garth,” he stammers, estimating that he would be the obvious choice since she’s so close with Jo. He wouldn’t want their friendship to be tainted by the difference in rank. “Okay,” the intern responds, her expression stark and strained, before she walks past him.

Motionless, the head wrangler remains on his spot, setting his jaw and closing his eyes for a second. Somehow, he didn’t expect their first exchange to be strictly business. Her stance is so different from what he’s grown used to. Even on the night they met when she gave him a hard time, the tension between them didn’t feel as heavy as it does now. He realized when he called it quits that she would struggle with his decision, but Jo’s confirmation that she spent most of last night crying over their separation has him desperate to ease the pain.

“Y/N…” he says softly while turning before she’s too far gone to pick up on his voice. “I have work to do,” she cuts off, shooting him a short glare over her shoulder.

Dean swallows thickly while watching her leave, fast and determined strides taking her as far away from him as possible. Damn it, he really did ruin his chances of even maintaining any sort of a friendship, didn’t he? He’s not sure what else he expected after the way they parted, but despite the loathing and vexed look she just shot him that feels like a bullet to the heart, he’s glad. Let her be angry, let her hate him. It will be easier for her to deal with those emotions, than just the overwhelming sense of sadness. He knows, because he hasn’t felt this devastated, empty, and incomplete since his family fell apart; he’s talking from experience. Wishing the day was over already, the cowboy adjusts his hat and gets back to work, hoping that riding will offer him the therapy he so desperately needs.

Unfortunately, the day doesn’t pass by nearly as fast as Dean would like to. After riding five horses, he, Benny, and Garth use their lunch break to look at the beat-up tractor that once again has let them down. The head wrangler doesn’t mind skipping his midday meal; he would rather avoid sitting across from Y/N in a room overflowing with awkwardness, plus, he’s not hungry anyway.

The machine from 1979 was bound to die on the crew sooner than later, but after the farrier slash mechanic discovers metal particles in the gearbox fluid, it becomes clear that a simple oil change isn’t going to cut it this time. “Yep, she’s toast,” Benny sighs, wiping his dirty hands with a cloth. “Just what we need,” his friend grunts. He’s not looking forward to his uncle’s response to the setback. “I’ll tell Bobby.” “I can if you want me to,” the stable boy - who is also responsible for the machinery - offers. Dean purses his lips slightly, his thumbs hooked through the belt loops of his jeans while he stares at the old John Deere absently. “Nah, I’ll do it. I got a question for you, though. Do you mind supervising Y/N from now on?” Garth shakes his head, taking in his boss, somewhat confused. “No, not at all.” “Good,” the wrangler replies quickly, thankful that the slender employee takes on the task without question. The clueless young man didn’t pick up on the relationship between Dean and the intern to begin with, and he would rather keep him in the dark, especially now that it has ended. He knocks on the rusty hood of the tractor before he heads off. “I’ll see y’all in a bit. Can you start rolling out the hay to the pastures with the wheelbarrows? It’s gonna take a hell of a lot longer without this old thing.”

The shade inside the stables is welcoming, and not just because it offers cooler temperatures. Dean’s eyes are still painfully sore from the lack of sleep and he rubs at them again, trying to stop them from burning. Shit, and it’s only Monday, he sighs to himself. The three-day event over the weekend means no time off for the employees who attended. The last time he didn’t have to show up at seven in the morning or earlier was late September, which means that he has been working twelve-hour plus shifts for fourteen days straight now. Work never stops on a ranch. The horses depend on him; they will always need food, a clean stable and exercise, no matter how tired, lovesick, or miserable he is.

The cafeteria is already empty. His aunt is probably at the guesthouses to change the sheets and towels, giving the accommodations a quick once-over. However, he finds a post-it on the long table with his name on it; ‘Don’t forget to eat. Bacon sandwiches are in the fridge - Ellen’. As the cowboy smiles for the first time today, he wonders if Bobby has told his wife anything about John’s unexpected visit in Flagstaff, hoping that he hasn’t. Knowing his aunt, she’s going to sit him down for some sweet tea and a talk, even though previous attempts of having a conversation as such proved to be unsuccessful. He appreciates her concern, though, the idea of his surrogate mom caring about him offering Dean some solace.

The wrangler walks through the high barn doors on the other side, the sun doing its very best to cheer him up, but the rays don’t reach his soul. He makes his way to the Singer’s home, reckoning he will find Bobby there. As per usual, Dean takes off his hat and hangs it on the coat hanger, kicking off his boots before he proceeds to the office in the back of the house. After knocking, he pushes the door ajar, finding his uncle behind his desk. The place is still a mess, but the occupant’s features aren’t draped in shadows like the last time he was here. The blinders are open, the window a passe-partout of the Joshua tree, together with the paddocks and pastures surrounding it.

The rancher looks up when his nephew enters. “Hey, son. How’s the tractor comin’?” “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s fried. The oil is swimming with debris,” Dean tells, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. “Metal?” Bobby questions. When the young man across from him nods, he curses. “Balls!”

Dean presses his lips into a firm line, keeping still in the worn chair to prevent it from squeaking. His uncle seemed to be in a good mood after the successful show, but he can tell that this setback has put a strain on the old man’s frame of mind.

“You’re gonna call the service station?” the head wrangler wonders. “No, that’s gonna cost us. We finally managed to make some money, I ain’t planning on spending it on that damned thing.” The rancher adjusts his ball cap before leaning back in his chair. “You boys can give it a go first, open up that gearbox, see what’s broken. I’ll order parts once you figure out what’s wrong with that piece of shit.”

Scribbling something down on a piece of paper, Bobby sighs, but then returns his focus to Dean. “There’s somethin’ else I need to discuss with you.” His right-hand raises his eyebrows slightly, his interest peaked. “What’s that?” “It’s about Cain,” his uncle murmurs. “Apparently MacLeod didn’t tell the entire story.” Dean scoffs, shaking his head. “Should I be surprised? I’m not sure what kinda vibes you picked up from that shady dude, but I sure as hell don’t trust him for the life of me.” “I don’t either. That’s why I think we should reconsider that deal.” Bobby rests his elbows on the armrests of his chair, forking his fingers together in his lap. He expected some resistance from Dean, but not such a strong reaction as his nephew fires back.

“What?! Are you serious?” he counters, perplexed. “You’re just gonna wipe it off the table?” “Not ‘just’, but we need to consider our options,” his boss returns. “How many options do we have exactly? Because the way I see it, this arrangement is a pretty damn good one. It’s good money, a steady income with the prospect of a huge bonus, not to mention what doors it might open for the future. This horse might be the break we need,” Dean advocates, remembering Y/N’s words clearly when she summed up all the possibilities that Cain might bring with him. “Look, I know Fergus is a proper dick, but he has a reputation to protect. There’s too much at stake for him, and I don’t believe he will double-cross us. If we deliver, he’s gonna pay good bucks.” “And that’s where we might have a problem; actually delivering,” Bobby returns, taking in his head wrangler. Dean draws his head back, slightly hurt, frowning at his uncle’s words. “You don’t think I can get the job done?” “I’m not sure if anyone can, son,” the owner of the Gold Canyon Ranch states calmly. “The horse doesn’t just have ‘some behavioral issues’, as Fergus put it. He’s unapproachable, unpredictable, aggressive. That stallion is dangerous to everyone in a square mile radius. Jody rang me this morning to warn us.” “Jody?” the cowboy returns, puzzled. He’s aware that the female rancher knows a lot of people in this business, but he didn’t expect the news of the famous stallion’s arrival would spread so fast. “How did she even know that Cain was coming to us?” “Because MacLeod is a client of hers. Cain is currently in her stables.”

Dean’s eyebrows hit his hairline, emerald greens staring over the desk at the man on the other side. While gaping at his uncle, questions begin to race through his mind. Jody did business with Fergus? Jody is a good trainer with excellent judgment, so if she claims Cain is untrainable, that says something. Their last conversation in Flagstaff comes to mind, the news about Gabe’s hospitalization shocking him at the time. Could his friend’s injuries be the stallion’s doing?

Bobby watches his trusted worker process the information, rolling his chair a little closer and resting his forearms on the varnished wood, closing his hand over his fist. “I know this complicates things, but I’m gonna leave it up to you. If you think you can handle the stallion, I will trust your judgment. But I don’t want you to risk your neck for the money, Dean. We will find another way.”

The horseman chews on his lip as he ponders, his focus capturing nothing in particular as his eyes flick over the items and documents on the desk. “We’ll have a week to evaluate him. I’ll make the call after that,” he decides. “Mind if I contact Jody to get some insight on what I’m up against?” “Knock yourself out,” Bobby consents. “Just leave the numbers that we agreed to out of it.” “Will do.”

Dean gets up from his seat, pushing the chair closer to the desk before he intends to slip out of the office before he’s stopped by his boss. “One more thing,” the wise man says, looking over his enclosed hands. “What’s going on with you and the intern?”

Caught, the head wrangler freezes, eyes wide with shock and pure horror staring into the hallway. Shit. How the hell is he going to answer that? Is he referring to the dance at the opening night of the horse show or the palpable tension that has surrounded the former couple whenever they were in close range of each other? Dean doesn’t know, but he has the feeling that the continuation of this conversation is going to be anything but pleasant. Composing himself before he turns back to face his uncle.

“Nothin’. What do you mean?” He shrugs as the corners of his mouth draw down, pretending to be careless. “Don’t play dumb, boy. I was born at night, but not last night.” Bobby glares at him knowingly. “Are you messin’ around with her?” “No,” Dean says firmly, the truth in his words hurting him deep down. His uncle lifts his chin, holding the cowboy’s gaze while narrowing his eyes. It’s clear that he’s not buying. “You wanna explain then why you two were like two peas in a pot in Flagstaff, but can’t even look at each other now?”

With his hand still on the door handle, his nephew attempts to keep his act together, but then he sighs. Damn it, he was so close to making it out of this meeting alive. Oh well, what’s one more lecture, right?

“Look, there’s nothing going on, not anymore. I - uh, I got carried away and I shouldn’t have let it,” he admits. “I broke it off. It won’t happen again.” “Is this gonna be a problem?” his boss asks sternly. “If you two can’t work together--” “It isn’t. Garth will supervise her from now on. Just to prevent any issues in the future,” he continues, hoping the fact that they actually discussed how to carry on as colleagues from this point forward will put the concern to rest.

“There better be a future for her here on this ranch. I can’t afford to lose a free worker, especially not one as skilled as she is,” Bobby warns, not convinced. “I’d pray that she won’t pack her bags if I were you, ‘cause I’ll give ya one guess who’s gonna have to work twice as hard and whose ass I’m gonna bust.” “She won’t leave,” his head wrangler guarantees, willing to bet his life on it.

His promise might seem based on a hopeful hunch, but Y/N hasn’t given Dean any indication to question her professionalism. She even approached him in order to change the conditions of her internship, which couldn’t have been easy for her. Their interaction will be minimized and strictly business from now on, something he reckons she will handle much more gracefully than he will, simply because she has a bigger purpose to focus on. This placement is a stepping stone to her dream of owning her own ranch, and that goal hasn’t changed. He knows she won’t leave Gold Canyon.

Bobby observes his nephew, still bothered by the fact that he didn’t listen to him when he specifically told the bachelor not to get involved with the intern. He’s going to save the rant for another time, though, the sight of an already dejected man before him having him hold back. It seems like this is doing a number on young fellow, and considering how they were with each other at the horse show this weekend, he’s not surprised. The two reminded him of his twenties when he first got together with his Ellen. The boy is hurting, more than he lets on. “Alright then. Get goin’, I’ve got bills to pay,” he eventually says, shooing Dean out with a flick of the wrist.

Relieved that his uncle is cutting him some slack, he nods and silently pulls the door shut, putting a barrier between himself and the conversation he has been dreading for weeks. If only he could be able to tell Bobby that he’s with the girl he’s in love with; he would have taken the grumpy rebuke with a grin on his face. If only.

While stepping outside, the cowboy pulls his cellphone from his jeans pocket, looking up Jody Mills’ number in his contacts. He begins to slowly stroll back and forth on the porch in its sheltering shade, the floorboards moaning and cracking under his boots as he waits with his Nokia pressed against his ear. The steady tone beeps twice before his friend picks up. “Hey,” it sounds from the other side of the line. “I was hoping you’d call.” “Yeah, Bobby told me about Cain,” he returns. “Kinda complicates things, don’t it?” “I need to listen to me very carefully,” Jody starts, earnest and worried. “Do not take that horse into your stable.”

The cowboy sighs, glancing over the land while hooking his thumb behind his belt. He figured the female rancher would try to convince him to back off. “It’s good money, Jody, and I’ve handled difficult cases before. Cain deserves a shot. I have to try.” “I get it, but hear me out. If Fergus offered you a deal that seems too good to be true, that’s because it is. I know you’re an excellent trainer, hell, the best that I know. But I’m telling you, we’re not talking about a stallion with some authority issues here. That horse is twisted, has wires crossed. I have never seen such behavior,” she presses. “So many people have tried to straighten him out already. I did some digging, and Fergus’ supposedly ‘million dollar prospect’ has moved in and out nine different stables over the past year. No one has succeeded.”

He ponders, not taking her warning lightly. Jody is an experienced equestrian who has dealt with many tough animals. She even passed some horses on to him when she couldn’t get through to them. The woman is well aware of the limits to her expertise and has always been honest with clients when a horse was too much for her to handle, but never before has she doubted that the wrangler from the Gold Canyon Ranch could do the job.

“When Gabe got hurt, was it…?” Dean wonders, hesitant, not finishing his sentence. “It was Cain.”

He sets his jaw, the muscles flexing under his stubble. Although he assumed it was the stallion who has put his former colleague into the hospital, it still shocks him. He continues to pace the deck in front of the Singer’s home. “How is he doing?” he wonders. Jody pulls in a deep breath, the message she’s about to deliver clearly a difficult one. “He’s never gonna walk again. Paralyzed from the waist down.”

Dean closes his eyes and swallows thickly. It’s the outcome they all feared, but hearing the confirmation makes his gut churn. Losing one's legs is a nightmare for everyone, but for a rider? He can’t possibly picture it, becoming wheelchair-bound. Honestly, he would rather die than to never be able to get in the saddle again.

“Dean, I know you believe every horse deserves a second chance, but please, let this one go. He is beyond repair. I’m not asking, I’m begging,” she pleads, a tremor in her voice. “If you take on Cain, it’s only a matter of time before you get hurt, or worse.”

The words are backed up by a heavy silence. The two stay quiet for a while, the words sinking in with the wrangler. Flight animals fueled by fear can do either two things; run or attack. If getting away from the supposed threat is impossible, they tend to go for the last. It’s not something the horse will even think about; it’s a survival instinct. When a naturally kind creature takes a turn like that, it becomes a thousand-pound killing machine. If Cain is truly that far gone, it is likely that he is indeed beyond saving. The trainer has to see it for himself, though, and not just because the ranch can use the cash. He realizes that if he doesn’t take on this task, someone else will, someone with less experience. If this stallion is really that lethal, the next novice trainer might make an error of judgment that will be his or her last. At least Dean has the skills. It seems like he is Cain’s last resort, because if he isn’t trainable, he will get the bullet at some point. He wouldn’t be the first horse to be put down because of similar problems.

“Thanks for the warning, Jody,” he responds after a long pause. “I’ll keep it in mind.” “Dean--” “I know. I know what you’re gonna say, but if I don’t do this, who knows what might happen to him. I’ve got a week to decide if we wanna go through with it. That’s the least I can do.” He can hear his friend grunt, frustrated, probably realizing that changing his mind was a long shot to begin with. “Just… be careful, okay?” “I will, promise,” Dean assures. “Talk to you later.”

The cowboy hangs up, staring at his phone for a few more seconds before he puts it away and steps out into the sun, heading back to the stables. The admonition continues to ring in his ears, and he allows the caution to imprint the decisions he needs to make in the upcoming days. After all, warned is forearmed.

Y/N wishes anyone had warned her how painful it is to have her heart broken by the person who made it beat just for him. Maybe she would have been more mindful then, more guarded. Maybe she wouldn’t have let him have it, had she known how careless he would be.

Around 5 o’clock, her new supervisor said it was okay if she wanted to take her own horse for a ride. Normally she trains Meadow either before or after shift, but she got all the work done at record speed, desperate for a distraction, that all her daily tasks were fulfilled two hours before dinner. Maybe Garth detected that she needed some alone-time with her four-legged friend, because he suggested the ride with a sympathetic smile and a kind nudge, sending her towards the Quarter’s box.

After straightening out the saddle pad, the cowgirl tightens the cinch. Meadow, who can be a bit of a grumpy mare when it comes to tacking up, stands still without moving a muscle, allowing her owner to ready her for a ride without pulling a prank like she usually does. Sometimes the cheeky horse will try to fish Y/N’s phone from her back pocket, nibble at her hat or her sleeve, or refuse to take a step aside when requested, but not today. Maybe she can sense that such an action could set her human off.

The horse accepts the bit when the cowgirl offers it to her, after which she pulls the headpiece over Meadow’s black-tipped ears, securing the straps skillfully. She sniffles, wiping her nose and forcing herself to keep her composure a little while longer. In a few minutes, when she’s away from prying eyes, she will allow to let the tears flow again, but not now, not yet.

Y/N unties her horse, places her left foot in the stirrup, and swings her right leg over the back of her bay mare, softly landing in the saddle. Picking up the reins, she steers her horse away from the tack up area, the smooth leather between her fingers giving her a sense of control that she’s missing in her love life.

Instead of leading Meadow towards the arena, the rider guides her towards the gate that leads to the trail. Her horse had an eventful weekend and gave it her all in competition, so it wouldn’t be fair to put her through a full workout. The performance took a lot out of the willing horse who never seizes to bring her best efforts and more. Even though the freestyle only lasted minutes, the athlete peaked with a brilliant execution of the routine, which takes a lot of skill and strength. Then there’s the ambiance of a show, the new environment, all the sensory overload. The combination of all those factors did a number the Quarter, and she deserves a calm and relaxing ride, much like the young woman she’s carrying on her back. Y/N is in no state to train, well aware that the heightened emotions will get the best of her if something might not work out the way she planned, and that’s not something she wants her companion to bear the consequences of. If anything, Meadow has been absolutely wonderful, seeming to understand that her person is sad and needs someone to lean on.

After closing the fence behind them, the girl and her horse follow the path that leads towards the hills. Cacti flank the road ahead towards the Superstition Mountains, which stand tall in the backdrop. The beautiful amber colored volcanic rock formations seem even more vibrant now that the setting sun blesses nature with a warm glow. The vegetation is much greener than it was when they searched for the herd of youngsters in the reservoir. Autumn is here, and within a couple of months, the ridges that reach for the sky will be covered in snow. It’s supposed to be a beautiful sight, at least that’s what Dean told her.

Now that it’s just her and Meadow, Y/N finally allows the suppressed tears to fall. The battle she has been fighting all day is one she knew she would lose eventually, she just wanted to be with her most faithful friend when the levee breaks. She doesn’t even intend to wipe the drops of despair away, knowing that she has to let it out now in order to keep up the facade later. And so the last rays of the day catch the shimmering pathways down her cheeks, similar to how the water cobbled at Willow’s Creek, where she and Dean shared their first kiss. All the memories, those perfect little moments that she thought to cherish forever, they are worth nothing now. It was all just a dream.

Y/N transits into a slow canter, hoping that the wind in her face will chase the sorrow away. She has to feel something completely opposite to the grief that is ripping her apart. She needs to experience freedom and the bond that comes along with this unique partnership between her and Meadow, the simplicity of moving across the desert like men and their horses have been doing so for centuries. No engines, no computers, no engineering. Just two souls of completely different species merging as one.

Resting her free hand on her horse’s neck and gripping the black mane, she pushes her heels into the Quarter’s flanks, aiding her to pick up speed. The bay mare takes over, her rider is no longer in control, but she no longer has to be. Y/N doesn’t need to direct this movie, because she trusts Meadow with her life. If there is any being on the face of the planet that she would follow blindly, it’s her companion. Meadow has never let her down, not once, and her owner knows there will never come a moment when she will. And so she breathes in, welcoming the wind to fill her lungs with newfound courage, brought on by the majestic animal that gallops across the landscape, carrying Y/N on her wings.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part twenty-six here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean x reader #Cowboy!Dean AU #Dean Winchester series #Cowboy!Dean series #Dean Winchester x Reader #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Supernatural AU #SPN #Supernatural #Supernatural series #SPN series #Dean angst #Dean fluff #RWM chapter 25 #Kate Huntington

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lyranova · 4 years ago

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Children of the Future:

Chapter 8: The Meeting

Hi guys! I’m sorry this chapter has taken a while, my back went out and then I started moving so its just been one thing after the other haha! Anyway I hope you all like this chapter it’s a little...rough 😅. The next chapter will be reblogged soon so please look forward to it 🥰! Also Aika belongs to @simpingforthisonedeer !

Taglist: @eme-eleff @talpup @jovialnoise @simpingforthisonedeer @ckjwnnbc (if anyone else wants to be added please let me know!

Word count: 2,704

Warnings: None

————

Yami groaned slightly as he woke up, today was going to be a busy day. First he would have to go to a Captains meeting to discuss the kids, and then he would have to talk to his squad and tell them to keep an eye out. He quickly sat up and scratched the back of his head before walking out of the room. When he stepped into the hallway he was instantly greeted with the smell of food. Someone was cooking, he frowned a bit, he hadn’t slept that late had he?

He walked into the common area and saw everyone else was waking up as well. He saw Zora was walking into the room as well as Nebra, apparently the smell of food had woken them up as well. He stepped more towards the dining room and noticed Hikari, Alistar, Charlotte, Vangeance, Ace, and Josslyn were already awake. He stopped mid-step when Hikari suddenly turned to look at him.

“ Good morning Yami!” She called out, causing the others to turn and look at him in surprise. She had probably sensed his Qi if Yami had to guess. He gave a small wave before he walked over to the table and sat down.

“ Good morning I guess,” he greeted back before frowning. “ What are you all doing up so early?” He asked before sitting down himself.

“ Well, no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t sleep so I came in here.” Alistar said with a shrug before setting more food and coffee onto the table, Charlotte walked out of the kitchen and sat down at the table at the same time Alistar did.

“ I always wake up this early.” Charlotte said with ease before grabbing a cup of tea and putting it to her lips and taking a sip. Yami snorted, for some reason that didn’t surprise him very much.

“ I smelled the food.” Hikari answered simply and Alistar chuckled next to her, she cut him a glare before she put a piece of bacon into her mouth.

“ I think the rest of us also woke up due to the smell of delicious food.” Vangeance chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee. As the others sat down at the table they ate in silence, the only sounds being the silverware hitting the plates or glasses clinking against their saucers.

Charlotte glanced up at Yami from across the table, she was beginning to get used to seeing him when she woke up. It was nice. Seeing him with sleep in his eyes, his already somewhat messy hair even messier, the way his voice was just a little deeper when he first woke up. It was cute. She quickly shook her head. ‘Stop it Charlotte! This is only temporary, remember? Once Hikari and the others are sent back everything will return to normal.’ The thought quickly sent a pain through her chest, a small piece of her didn’t want to ‘go back to normal’. But it was inevitable and, probably, for the best.

“ Y’know,” Yami started, suddenly shaking Charlotte out of her thoughts. “ what are we going to do with them while we’re gone?” Yami asked, jolting his thumb towards the kids. The other adults blinked, none had thought about it.

“ Geez it’s not like we’re babies who can’t look after ourselves.” Josslyn muttered as she sat back in her chair. Hikari shook her head.

“ Alistar and I will look after Ace and Josslyn. Y’know keep them out of trouble.” Hikari volunteered, Alistar nodded along before he suddenly realized what she had signed them up for. He quickly turned to look at her.

“ Why do you always volunteer me to do these kinds of things with you?” He asked with a sigh before he set his knife and fork down, all she did was smirk before taking another bite of her breakfast. They both knew why she did it; because they were a team, always had been, and probably always would be.

“ I trust them.” Charlotte said suddenly as she saw the unsure looks pass across the others faces. She had a feeling Hikari could handle anything that could possibly happen, she was her and Yami’s daughter after all. Yami looked at Charlotte curiously before he nodded.

“ If the Prickly Princess trusts them, then so do I.” Yami said, causing her to blush and look away. She hadn’t realized he held her opinion in such high regard.

“ I agree. But we need to leave quickly if we want to make it to the meeting on time.” Vangeance said before standing up along with Charlotte and Yami. “ Thank you for the lovely breakfast Charlotte and Alistar.”

“ You’re welcome fa-I mean, Captain.” Alistar said with a warm smile before the three Captains walked towards the door.

“ Hey you two,” Yami suddenly shouted, turning towards Zora and Nebra. “ You might start heading towards the Squads Hideouts, so that way you can be there for the memos.” He added before walking out. Zora and Nebra grumbled as they followed suit, neither understood why they had to attend since they already knew about it. But it was an order, even if he didn’t say it directly, so they had no choice but to follow him.

As the adults left Josslyn smirked at the other three in the room.

“ Well now that the elders are gone, why don’t we explore a bit? Maybe we can find a way out of this time and get back home.” She grumbled before standing up, Hikari shook her head.

“ We can’t. Not yet and don’t even think about walking out and going to look on your own!” Hikari said as Josslyn opened her mouth to argue. The young girls began to bicker back and forth like siblings, Ace just sitting there watching as he didn’t really know what to say while Alistar sighed.

“ I should’ve just took my chances back home.”

———

Yami, Charlotte, and Vangeance sat down at the long conference table along with the other Captains. Dorothy was asleep as usual, Fuegoleon was having a small conversation with Nozel and Kaiser, while Jack and Rill were busy in their own little worlds. They all looked up as the doors opened and Julius and Marx entered the room, they all stood up until the doors behind Julius closed and he sat down, the Captains following suit.

“ I’m sure most of you know why I’ve called this meeting today, while there are a few that do not.” Julius said looking around the table, some of the Captains nodded and some shook their heads.

“ Over the past couple of days there have been some children arriving, children that are not from this time. Right now there are only 4 children that have arrived, but just in case more happen to arrive as well I’d like for you and your squads to look out for them.” Julius said as he looked at the table, Fuegoleon frowned slightly.

“ You believe there will be more?” He asked curiously, Julius shrugged and placed a hand under his chin thoughtfully.

“ I’m not sure, but I would rather take precautions just in case.” Julius said before Nozel looked over at him.

“ Have you discovered the reason as to why they’re being sent here yet?” Julius shook his head at the question and sighed softly.

“ Not yet. I’m hoping one of the children might be able to provide some insight into it, but I would like to wait until they’re a little more settled.” Julius said before Jack spoke up.

“ Why don’t you just have mushroom hair over there to look at their memories to get the information we need?” Some of the other captains nodded, that was a good idea, but Julius shook his head as Marx glared daggers at Jack’s comment.

“ I would rather them give us the information willingly if they know anything at all. The only way I’ll take that possible information by force is if I believe they’re lying and are a threat to the kingdom.” He told them seriously, they all nodded and looked down at the table.

“ Any more questions?” He asked the table kindly, Kaiser nodded before looking over at Julius.

“ Do we know what links these children to one another? Or are they just being sent here randomly?”

“ Well, so far all of their parents have been either Magic Knights or Magic Knight Captains. All the children, despite their ages, have really strong mana. So I’ll assume they’re all capable mages.” Julius explained and the others looked amongst each other for a moment.

“ Some of their parents are magic knight Captains?!” They asked in unison; Yami, Charlotte, and William all looked down at the table and kept silent. None really volunteered the information and Julius nodded at the other Captains as a soft smile graced his face.

“ Yes, but we’ll leave that discussion for another day hm?” He suggested, causing the three Captains to sigh in relief internally at having been spared the integration that would come from the other Captains, save for Nozel since he already knew who two of the children belonged to. They all nodded in agreement.

“ Alright, since I think that's everything I’ll let you all get to your squads and brief them on their new assignments.” He told them before standing, the captains stood and saluted as well before Julius walked out of the room with Marx.

The Captains quickly stood and began to walk out of the room one by one except for Fuegoleon, Yami, Charlotte, and William.

“ The kids belong to you three don’t they? You were the only ones not surprised by the news or by the request to alert our squads.” Fuegoleon said, surprising the three in question. They hadn’t realized they had been so obvious, especially since the other Captains didn’t seem to notice, but they should have realized Fuegoleon was more observant than the others and would quickly figure it out.

“ I won’t tell anyone,” he chuckled, causing relief to wash over the Captain's faces. “ but the others will figure it out soon as well. So you’d best prepare for all the questions and comments, and you might prepare your children as well.” He added before walking out.

“ He’s right,” William agreed as he began to walk with Charlotte and Yami. “ There will be questions for both us and our children and we should anticipate them and ask the kids to do the same.” William added as he walked outside the room as well, presumably going to the Golden Dawn Headquarters. Charlotte sighed softly before looking at Yami.

“ Do you think the kids are hiding something?” Charlotte asked suddenly as she and Yami walked out of the room and began to walk down the hall.

“ I don’t think so, I can’t say much about Alistar, Josslyn, and Ace. But I don’t think Hikari is, she doesn’t seem like the type.” He said firmly, Hikari seemed way too honest so he highly doubted she would lie. Besides, he would be able to sense it with his Qi if she was. Charlotte chuckled which caused him to look at her in confusion.

“ You barely know her and you’re ready to believe her word over anyone else's.” She said softly, he was acting so much like a dad already she silently wondered if he would act this way when he eventually did have a child.

“ Like you wouldn’t?” He countered. She turned a small shade of pink and looked away, of course she would, Hikari was her daughter and truly seemed to not know what was happening.

“ Of course I would.” She answered, causing Yami to laugh and she smiled. He really did have a nice laugh. She shook her head quickly to get rid of the thought. “ I would obviously want to hear everyone else’s side first but I would still most likely believe her.”

“ Look at us,” he chuckled as they walked outside, it was Charlotte’s turn to be confused. “ We already sound like a couple of parents.” She chuckled as well and nodded in agreement.

“ We really do.” She agreed as she watched him grab his broom and step onto it. “ Do you think there’ll really be more kids?” She asked him, and he paused for a moment and looked at the sky in thought.

“ Maybe, considering how many have come back so far, and since this ‘incident’ or whatever seems to be so bad they’re sending their strongest mages back I’m gonna assume there’ll be more.” He said before looking back at her. “ Let’s just hope there won’t be anymore from my squad.” He chuckled before using his mana to levitate into the air.

“ I’ll see ya back home Prickly Princess.” Yami told her with a smirk before flying away, she felt her heart skip a slight beat at the promise. Her smile widened as her cheeks blushed.

She couldn’t wait to see him back home.

———

Julius stood at the window overlooking the Capitol, he was a tad surprised none of the Captain’s had asked the question he himself wanted an answer to. How were the children getting here? Sure Hikari came through an old magic item that was in the basement, but the others were found all across the capitol and in different places. Was there a time mage so strong that they were able to actually send people through time as well as space? Or was it a spatial mage who maybe had an ability that could transport them to any time they wished? Or was it one mage with both affinities? Julius wasn’t sure but he was excited at the thought! He heard Marx sigh behind him.

“ Sir, don’t you think you should finish the paperwork before you get lost in your daydreams?” He asked exasperatedly, Julius turned around and blushed sheepishly before laughing.

“ You’re right, my apologies, Marx. I was just trying to figure out how these kids got here if they didn’t come through the magic item like Hikari.” He admitted before sitting at his desk and going through the paperwork slowly, Marx shrugged.

“ I’m not too sure myself sir, maybe Lady Aika can look into it? Maybe there’s another magic item like the one in the basement somewhere else in the Capitol or in the surrounding area?” Marx suggested Julius’ eyes lit up with excitement, not only because he mentioned Aika, but also because he thought of something Julius hadn’t; that there were two magic items that could bring and send people through time!

“ Marx. You’re a genius! Send for Aika right away, I’ll try and have her look into this while-.” Julius looked up as a magic knight crashed through his office door, the man was out of breath as though he had run a mile.

“ Lord Julius, you need to come downstairs quickly!” The man said out of breath, Julius quickly stood and walked over to the man.

“ What’s happened?” Marx asked quickly as the man quickly stood upright and looked from Marx to Julius.

“ We’re under attack!”

“ By who?” Julius asked, his face serious yet confused, they had signed peace treaties with all the neighboring countries, unless a few of its citizens decided to go rogue, or a few Clover Citizens were very unhappy.

“ By a young boy!” He said quickly, now Marx and Julius both frowned.

“ ‘By a young boy’? As in singular and not plural?” Marx asked slowly, he scoffed when the magic knight nodded. “ Really? One boy is giving all of you this much trouble?”

“ He has transformation magic, and it’s not like the normal kind, he can transform himself as well as objects!” The man said quickly, Julius smiled a bit before he walked past the man. That magic sounded awfully familiar.

“ I think I’m going to have to pay this young man a visit. Come on, Marx let’s go.”

———

Ah sorry this isn’t very good! The next chapter will be reblogged soon I promise 🥰! Anyway thanks for reading and I hope you all have a good day~!

#children of the future #oc; alistar #oc; hikari #oc; ace #oc; josslyn #hikari is not my oc #ace is not my oc #josslyn is not my oc #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #william vangeance #julius novachrono #marx francois #black clover fanfic

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giuliafc · 4 years ago

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Moonlit Tears

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30020268

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13839874/1/Moonlit-Tears

A confused and heart wrecked Chat Noir finds a Ladybug in tears atop the Eiffel Tower. But when the two heartbroken heroes compare the shattered pieces of their hearts, they realise that those pieces look very similar. In fact, they're right the same. LadyNoir/Adrinette.

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The low humming of sobs was the only sound that reached his ears as he landed gracefully at their usual spot atop the Eiffel tower. He gasped and didn’t move, unsure of what to do. His heart was already heavy with chagrin. He had transformed and ran across the rooftops for the last two hours trying to calm himself down. Trying to avoid being the next akuma victim. He couldn't bear the thought that his Lady could possibly have had her heart broken today too.

He sat with feline elegance next to her. She didn’t even acknowledge him, inwardly looking as she was. He didn’t blame her. She was always so open, so generous, so ready to help everyone. She had the right to be upset for once and to not bother to say hi. He didn't want her to think that he had been there all that time without letting her know, though. That would be plain rude.

“Little kitty on a roof, all alone beside his Lady,” he started singing, changing the words of the song on purpose. He heard her gasping, then she stopped sobbing. She slowly stretched her legs and hung them down from the metallic structure they were sitting on. She straightened her back, trying to wipe her eyes dry with her fingertips, but failing miserably. New tears rolled out, renewing the dampness on her cheeks.

“I thought it was ‘ without his Lady’,” she pointed out, sniffling loudly.

He smirked with a concerned look. “And you’re right, Buginette. But I felt lonely even sitting beside you tonight. I’ve been here for a while and you haven’t even noticed.”

She sniffled again. “Sorry, Chat Noir. I had a really bad evening. I transformed and ran across the rooftops for a good couple of hours, but I still didn’t feel better. I came here to be alone, safe from prying eyes.”

“Oh.” His ears drooped. “Do you want me to leave?”

A shadowed smile popped on her lips. “Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to be patrolling tonight.”

“I wasn’t patrolling,” he said, “I had a bad evening too. A bit like you, I needed to vent, so I ran for a while, ending up here. I was surprised to see you. And even more surprised to hear you crying.”

She wiped her eyes one last time and finally they came dry. “Care to tell me what upset you?” She saw him tense, so added quickly, “If it won’t reveal your identity of course.”

He sighed. “I don’t mind telling you, Buginette, but I think you need to vent more than me. I hate seeing you so upset. Who do I need to beat up?” He faked a scowl and posed like a boxer.

She looked at him in amazement and then erupted into a crystal laugh. “Oh thank you, chaton. I needed it. Thank you so much.” She hugged him tightly and kept laughing. But the more she laughed, the more her laughter lost its light. It darkened, until she sobbed again, clenching her fists against the spandex material of his suit on his chest. He tentatively hugged her. When she didn’t react by rejecting his touch, he tightened his hold and held her closer, patting her hair in a soothing rhythm. A quiet purr began rumbling into his chest; after an initial gasp, Ladybug hugged him back and his purr renewed.

“I told him tonight,” she whispered eventually.

“Him?” he asked, carrying on with his purring and gentle rhythm of his hand over her hair.

She sniffled again. “Yes. The boy that I love. You remember? The one I told you about when we faced Glaciator.” She paused, happily lulling herself in the cathartic feeling of the purr. “I’ve never been able to tell him up to now. And I knew I was setting myself up to fail, because he’s told me before that he loves someone else. But I drank a couple of drinks too many; he was so kind to drive me home, and was being nice with me. So I just... told him.”

A sense of déjà vu hit Chat Noir. He gasped almost too loud, causing Ladybug to look at him with a puzzled frown on her face. He put a hand on her shoulder and with the other, he lifted her chin so she would look into his eyes. “What did he say? Did he reject you? If he made fun of you in any way, tell me his name and I’ll haunt him in his sleep forever.”

Despite the pain that he could read in her eyes, Ladybug genuinely smiled at the remark. “Thank you, Chat Noir,” she said. “But no, he didn’t reject me.”

Now it was his turn to be puzzled. “Then, why are you crying?”

“He didn’t say anything , minou. He just sat there in his car in silence until we reached my house. I even waited a couple of minutes before getting out. I said bye to him and he didn’t respond. I ran inside feeling horrible. I… feel as if I’ve ruined not only my chances of being with him but also our friendship, which I have cherished for the last four years. All because I drank too much. I’m so stupid.” She looked down and moved away from him. Sniffling some more, she stared out at the twinkling lights of the City of Love .

“That’s funny,” he said bitterly. When he said that, she gasped and looked at him shocked.

“What do you find funny, Chat Noir?”

He stretched his arms behind him and leaned back, allowing his gaze to get lost admiring the beautiful full moon that towered in the dark sky. “Today I went to a birthday party organised for one of my friends. We drank a little too much and it had become very late, so I offered one of my friends a lift. God forbid that she walked home as tipsy as she was and someone took advantage of her. She’s too dear to my heart to allow it to happen.”

“Oh,” she said, “o-okay?”

“I was driving her home. Well, my driver was; I was sitting with her in the back.” His hand reached for the nape of his neck and his gaze darted down. “She was telling me how grateful she was that I gave her a lift and suddenly, she told me that she loved me. A-and I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so I kept my mouth shut.”

She gasped at his words. His gaze darted to her briefly, and the intensity in her eyes made him sweat. She stared at him as if her life depended on his next sentence.

“And…?” she pressed.

Was it getting hot here, or was it only him? He dared another peek at her face; she was still looking at him intensely. “And… nothing. The car stopped in front of her place. I waited until she had gone inside before asking the driver to go. When I got home, I had to transform and get out because I didn’t understand what was going on with my feelings.”

“Why?” she asked in a choked whisper.

He could hardly breathe. “Be-because I was confused. I’d never thought she liked me. She always acted as if I was intimidating her. When we met, we started off on the wrong foot. So I really thought that she hated me, and probably only put up with me because of our friends.” Ladybug gasped loudly and looked up at him, her eyes as big as saucers. “I couldn’t believe that a person as amazing as her would think anything at all of one as insignificant as me.”

He turned around and looked straight into her eyes. “She was my first friend. I didn’t want to ruin that friendship. I messed up badly enough with my first girlfriend, being so indecisive and never letting myself go, until she got fed up and told me she had found someone else. I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with her too, because—” His mouth went dry; he gulped awkwardly and licked his lips.

“Because?” He could hear the breathlessness in her tone. He could see how hopeful her gaze was as it met his, how tense her back was as it straightened. He internally screamed. God, he couldn't believe it. This woman loved him. For real!

“Be-because she was important to me. I didn’t want to lose her.” He grabbed her hand, a tinge of pink dusting her cheeks as he locked his gaze to hers. “The truth is that I love her. I’ve loved her all along. Only, I was too blind to see it. I’m such a fool, Marinette .”

The sound of her gasp resounded in the silence of the night like a slap in the face.

“The girl who didn’t like my jokes, the one I told you about the day we were coming back from the wax museum. That girl was you .” He gulped seeing the tears staining her cheeks once again. She stared straight through to his soul in silence, crying quietly for a time that felt endless. Why wasn’t she talking?

“We’re idiots,” she eventually said, the shadow of a smile curling the corner of her lips.

“No, Buginette. I’m the only idiot I can see.”

The smile that had been curling her lips widened. “Silly chaton. There’s an even bigger idiot sitting right in front of you.” She took a big breath, exhaling slowly. “Be-because the boy I rejected you for the day we fought Glaciator—”

“Yes?” His ears perked up and he couldn’t help but lean towards her.

“Th-that b-boy… was… Adrien Agreste .” She looked up from behind her eyelashes, a deep blush dusting her cheeks when she saw the massive grin that spread on his lips. “I-I’ve loved you from the day you gave me your umbrella. I tried so hard to let go of you, b-but I’ve never been able to.”

His eyes widened as his mouth opened in a small o. “Y-you mean my first day at school?

She nodded, her red cheeks almost glowing in the darkness. He gawked at her beautifully flushed face for a long time, admiring how her porcelain skin shone bright in the pale light of the full moon. The stain of her tears like crystal reflecting the moonlit night. He looked at her for so long that her redness changed to pallor and her eyebrows furrowed into a frown.

“What’s wrong, minou?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He gulped and closed his eyes, taking a shuddering breath as he reminded himself to breathe. “I’m so happy.”

She smiled softly seeing the way his lip trembled. “C-can I kiss you?” she asked.

He nearly jumped out of his skin. His eyes sprang open; he smirked, and his tone turned teasing as he tried to hide his shock. “I always thought I was going to be the one to ask you .”

The soft smile never left her lips; she inched closer to him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, taking in the soft shaking under her touch. Her hands held his neck by the nape, pulling him in until there were only millimeters between them. They could feel the tickling of each other’s breath on their lips, both hesitating to close the gap.

“And tell me, minou.” Her nose brushed his, his heart clawing against his chest as her whispered words caused wild fluttering in his stomach. “What answer did you expect me to give you?”

His senses were overwhelmed with the scent of hot chocolate and sugary treats in her breath, with only the smallest tinge of alcohol.

He was still pondering on an answer when their lips met, and any residue of coherent thought dissolved from his mind. He would think about what to say later. Right now he was finally kissing the girl he loved.

Nothing else mattered. Nothing at all.

Fin

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Author’s Note:

Hi! I know, I know, I will end up with not one. Not two. But THREE updates today. I’m definitely spoiling you, don’t expect this every week (I would die LOL). But I had written this story a little while back prior to my submission for the New Beginning zine (they were asking for a piece of less than 2000 words and i had never written one before, so I had to see if I could write something that short before committing to a submission!). Unfortunately I wasn’t selected, which means that you get this story now and not in January 2022, are you happy? ^-^

Hope you’ll like it. Again, a bit different from what I’ve ever written, but more my style than the Visiting Hours one. Please let me know your thoughts! Any kind of comment (or kudos, favs, follows, bookmark… anything) is very welcome.

Last but not least, if you read this and you’re not part of our wonderful Discord server already, but you enjoy reading, writing and talking about Miraculous, please join our Discord server, Miraculous Fanworks . See you there soon!

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