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ajesterwrites · 2 months ago

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1. first day blues

summary: while grappling with secrets and the trauma of your parents' deaths, you prepare to start your junior year of high school. thankfully, bonnie is there to lend a hand.

pairings: bonnie bennett x reader (platonic), jeremy gilbert x reader (familial), jenna sommers x reader (familial)

warnings: brief mention of substance abuse and sex, nothing else because this chapter is pretty boring sorry 😭

word count: 3K

A/N: This is my first time posting on tumblr so please be kind. any feedback is greatly appreciated <3

Y/N E. GILBERT was a force to be reckoned with.

When you were one, you took your first steps despite being told that a critical injury would permanently hinder your ability to walk.

When you were two, you ate an entire bowl of broccoli without a single complaint, and your mother even managed to throw in a few brussels sprouts.

When you were three, your mother gave birth to a baby boy named Jeremy. He soon became the obstacle to your reign, but certainly not the end of it.

When you were four, you accidentally locked yourself in a storage closet. Your parents didn't find you until two hours later since they'd been tending to the child who stole your attention.

At five, you won her first participation trophy. At six, you earned second place in the school spelling bee. At seven, you befriended Bonnie Bennett and Caroline Forbes. At eight, you developed your first crush... but he purposefully rejected you in front of the entire school, so you broke his nose. That was the first time you'd been sent to the principal's office.

At nine, you stole a pair of earrings from the shopping mall because you thought they looked nice. The officers called your parents, and you were grounded for a month. That was just the beginning of what would be an extensive rap sheet.

By the time you were fourteen years old, you were acing every class in high school. When you were fifteen, you fell into the wrong crowd and was introduced to the twisted world of sex, drugs, alcohol, and peer pressure. But despite your flaws and addictions, you began to date the nice guy known as Matt Donovan. To the outside world, you two were the perfect couple. But behind closed doors, you were a hurricane of issues.

And when you were sixteen...

When you were sixteen, the life you knew was shattered to pieces.

Dear Diary,

I can't believe I still write in this thing. Today is the first day of 11th grade. Yay.

It's been about four months since the accident. Holly says that writing my thoughts and feelings may provide some sort of consolation, but all I feel is grief and guilt. I know I can never tell anyone what happened, and the secrecy is killing me inside. Maybe I deserve it.

For the first time since school ended, I'm going to see Bonnie and Caroline. I haven't spoken to either of them over the summer because I was in rehab. They don't know that. They don't know anything.

But after staying there for quite some time, I've learned to master the art of saying "I'm fine" and actually looking like I mean it.

But enough of that. Today is the day I put on yet another mask and hope no one is able to see right through it. Wish me luck.

Closing the journal, you sighed. Today was your first day of school...and even though you'd gone through this process for a decade, this year was different.

You tucked the pen and journal underneath your pillow and hopped off the edge off your bed, ready to go over your look for the hundredth time in the vanity mirror. Your hair was tied in a ponytail. Your red blouse showed enough of your chest to elicit minor bullying, but not enough to get dress-coded by a dean. To be safe, you pulled a white tank top underneath.

It wasn't until you heard your Aunt Jenna blasting Taylor Swift music did you run downstairs, just in time to belt the lyrics "And I was crying on the staircase, begging you please don't go!" in unison an off-key harmony. Jenna looked at you, her eyes glistening as you screamed the rest of the song in a manner that was sure to wake up any neighbors in a three-block radius.

When your performance was over, the two of you burst into giggles. Nostalgia hit you like a train as you reminisced the fun times you'd shared with your aunt and mother whenever Jenna would come to visit. You hadn't had fun like this in months, not since your return home.

"Turn that garbage off!" Jeremy shouted, running down the steps as Here We Go came on next. Jenna paused the song, and when Jeremy came into view, you judgmentally surveyed your brother's outfit. It seemed he was taking his job as a resident emo kid very seriously.

"Don't be a hater," You commented, walking over to the counter to pour herself a nice steaming cup of coffee. "You're just mad because Kearney's more emo than you—and he doesn't have to try so hard."

Truth be told, you didn't know anything about Mat Kearney. But you knew nothing would grate your little brother's nerves more than hearing that some random pop singer could possibly be more emo than him.

Jeremy rolled his eyes and looked at your aunt for backup. "Jenna, are you just gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Jenna scoffed. "You just insulted Mat Kearney. Of course I am."

You laughed victoriously and looked to see Jeremy roll his eyes once again like the moody teenager he was, but you could've sworn you saw him fighting back a smile—the first one you'd seen since you'd gotten back. And though it was brief, it was your first real family moment.

"I made toast!" Jenna suddenly announced.

Bing! Two slices of scorched bread popped up. Jeremy wrinkled his nose at the smell.

You tilted your head, forcing yourself not to laugh as you asked, "Is it supposed to be black?"

A disappointed crease formed in Jenna's forehead as she frowned and shook her head. "No, it is not," She replied dryly. "It's your first day of school and I'm totally unprepared."

"Hey..." You drawled, thinking of a way to make her feel better. "Extra crisp means extra flavor, right?"

Jenna smiled, even though you both knew that's not quite how cooking worked. "And this is why you're my favorite niece."

"I'm your only niece."

"Exactly, which automatically makes you my favorite," Jenna reasoned. She held up a five-dollar bill. "Lunch money?"

Jeremy looked at you, but you chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I'm good."

He took it and shoved it in his pocket. With her free hand, Jenna handed you a bottle of coffee creamer.

"Anything else?" Jenna asked, shoving her wallet into her purse. "A number two pencil?"

"Nope," You and Jeremy chimed in unison.

Jenna wasn't just your aunt—she was your legal guardian. As the sister of Miranda Gilbert, your mother, it'd been her responsibility to step up and take you in. Otherwise, you and Jeremy would've ended up in the foster system under the care of whoever fate appointed.

But Jenna wasn't exactly a parent. At best, she was a college kid at heart, relatively young and looking to have a good time, so she was struggling with her new role as an almost-mother. But she still tried the best she could, and that was all that mattered.

"By the way, you're late to your presentation," You mentioned nonchalantly as she stirred the creamer into her drink.

"No I'm-" Jenna started to say, frowning as she looked down at her wristwatch. "Crap! Will you be able to hold down the fort while I'm gone?"

"Of course." You tossed your spoon in the sink. Jenna's eyes hastily darting across the kitchen, muttering the words I'm late incessantly as if that'd somehow stop time. Her repetition of words was one of the many things she did whenever she was nervous or panicking, and lately, it happened more often than not.

You picked up a ring of keys on the counter and dangled them in front of her, not even looking up to see the relieved look on Jenna's face as she grabbed them.

"Thanks, I love you, have a good day at school!" Jenna shouted hurriedly as she dashed out, barely giving you or your brother time to process what she was saying. It seemed that since she took you in, she'd stopped prioritizing her own needs, granting her practically no time to process her grief or in this case, make it to work in good time on an important day.

"Good look with your presentation!" You yelled back just before the door slammed shut. The car screeched as Jenna peeled out of the driveway and vanished down the street.

Sighing, you brought your coffee mug to your lips and let the tv play in the background. It'd been turned on to a news channel. And normally you found the news boring because it was always about some upcoming event in Mystic Falls, but this time, the headline seized your attention.

According to the reporters, two college kids had been fatally attacked by an animal on the road. Their pictures flashed across the screen: a pretty, blonde woman and her handsome boyfriend.

"Damn," You mumbled and sipped your drink. The town of Mystic Falls wasn't an interesting place. It had an extremely low crime rate, and most misdemeanors were committed by drunk teens. Even accidental fires were a rarity. Animal attacks just didn't happen.

To avoid the disturbing thoughts that would undoubtedly resurface, you gulped the rest of your coffee down, leaving not even a drop in the ceramic mug.

But as you went to go wash it out, you noticed Jeremy at the counter, hunched over as he sipped his coffee. A troubled look burned in his baggy eyes. He hadn't slept. Of course, he hadn't slept. It was the first first day of school since your parents died. And though it didn't quite compare to the agony of holidays, it was an anniversary.

After washing it mug and leaving it to dry, you poked him in the shoulder. "Hey," You said gently. "Frank Iero wannabe, you good?"

Even though you knew the answer and how much the question annoyed him, you couldn't help but ask. Ever since your parents' deaths, he took on the appearance of a punk rock emo kid—and he had the black nail polish to prove it. However, his aesthetic wasn't the issue. In fact, you'd found his new style quite cool. What you didn't like was the attitude and the isolation. It was dangerous, especially at a time like this.

Jeremy lowered his mug and scoffed for what seemed to be the fifth time that morning. "Don't start," He snapped, reminding you why at the age of 14, he needed his morning coffee. He was usually a lot meaner than this, but now he looked too exhausted to even try to hurt your feelings. Not that he could anyways...he seemed to think you didn't have any.

You started to respond when a car honked outside. She flinched at the sudden noise and walked to the kitchen window, peering outside to see a pale blue Toyota Prius hanging in the driveway.

Frowning, you let go of the blinds and turned back around. "Jeremy, there's someone in the driveway."

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you," He began, though the leveled tone of his voice let you know that wasn't the case. "I called Bonnie to pick you up. Since you don't have a car and you two haven't spoken all summer."

You raised an eyebrow. You weren't mad, just...surprised. Much like her, Jeremy seemed too wrapped up in his own personal issues to give anyone else's a second thought. That's how things had been the past season, so the random act of kindness brought a smile to your lips.

Bonnie blasted her horn again. You laughed, recalling Bonnie's impatience when it came to you, and grabbed your things before ruffling Jeremy's hair just to irritate him. He scowled at you and slapped her hand away, eliciting yet another giggle from you.

"Don't leave the house too late," You instructed. Just like old times when her father had to rush to the clinic and her mother was too busy organizing some big charity event to send them off. You'd been driving him to school before you'd even gotten your permit.

Jeremy nodded, checking his reflection in the refrigerator door, and you rolled her eyes as you left, hoping that he'd lock the door behind you.

You rushed to hug your best friend, the remarkable and irreplaceable Bonnie Bennett. You'd known Bonnie since childhood but you'd lost contact over the summer. And what lost contact really meant was that while she was lifeguarding and trying to plan the best summer of their lives, you had suddenly stopped returning her calls. Then, an unexpected ghosting session soon blurred into a full-blown disappearing act with zero explanation.

But as far as bad blood went, there seemed to be none between the two of you. You were glad, although you suspected your other best friend might take a little longer to forgive you.

"So, how have you been?" You asked after she got settled inside the small car.

"Great," Bonnie replied as she pulled out of the driveway. "Caroline and I missed you."

Caroline Forbes, your other best friend who wasn't exactly the forgiving type, but was the missing third in your blissful friendship, as questionable as she could be.

"On a scale of one to ten, how mad was she?"

"Enraged. You should've seen the steam coming out of her ears—she looked like she was going to burn Godzilla to death. With her eyes."

You couldn't help but laugh at the unusually vivid picture in your mind. Caroline had a temper that could scare even the toughest of men and monsters.

"I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch over summer break," You said sincerely, knowing full well that an apology was in order. "I was sent to this place to find peace and thought it'd be easier to deal if I did it alone."

You wished Bonnie would've said something along the lines of You still could've at least had the decency to call, but instead she smiled reassuringly and the words that tumbled out of her mouth were, "Don't sweat it. I'm just glad you're okay."

You pursed her lips together, almost frustrated with her friend's understanding nature. Bonnie and Caroline had been by your side since you were seven years old...and you'd just abandoned them. No warning, no explanation. That called for some sort of repercussions.

"How's your Grams doing?" You asked coolly. You didn't want to get so sucked up in your thoughts that Bonnie realized something was wrong.

"Glad you asked," Bonnie cheerfully responded. "So Grams is telling me that I'm psychic. Our ancestors were from Salem, witches, and all that-"

"Wait, seriously?"

"Yeah!" Bonnie grinned at the surprised look on your face. "I know, crazy, but she's going on and on about it and I'm like- put this woman in a home already!"

You laughed at the pure life in Bonnie's eyes and demeanor.

"But then I started thinking," She continued. "I predicted Obama and I predicted Heath Ledger, and I still think Florida will break off and turn into little resort islands."

"Yeah, but if that happens, the parts without water are probably going to turn into a series of mental institutions."

I probably shouldn't be making jokes like that, seeing as I-

"Oh my god, you're right!" Bonnie agreed, laughing.

"So about this psychic thing. Think it could actually be true?"

"Totally."

"Let's test it," You suggested. You knew Bonnie didn't really believe she was psychic, but figured it was worth exploring. At least to you, it was.

"You want me to predict something?"

"Yep."

Bonnie chuckled. "Really? Last I checked, you scoffed at anything supernatural."

"That's not true!"

"Um, yeah, it is, Rae," Bonnie giggled. "You avoided my Grams like the plague. And you forced me and Care to play with that ouija board just to prove it wasn't real. I still have nightmares!"

Bonnie seemed to be amused, but you felt...you weren't sure what. Had you really been that much of an asshole?

You cleared her throat. "I'm not the same girl I was. What's in my future? Am I gonna die an old, lonely, psychotic cat lady, or will I find love?" Bonnie burst into laughter, struggling to keep her eyes on the road. You couldn't help but grin. "I'm serious! Come on, it'll be fun."

"Alright, fine," Bonnie said once she composed herself, but a bright smile still lingered on her face. "I see..."

A beak smashed into the windshield and zoomed past. You nearly jumped out of her skin. Bonnie instinctively slammed her foot on the brakes. The car skidded to a stop and black crow feathers drifted onto the hood of her car. Your heart palpitated...and not in a good way.

"What was that?" Bonnie gasped. You clutching her chest in an effort to tame your heartbeat. "Y/N, are you okay?"

You faced the window, closed your eyes, and quietly counted up threes.

"I'm so sorry, I think that was a bird or something, it came out of nowhere."

You looked at Bonnie and smiled. "It's okay," You replied nonchalantly. You didn't even have to turn your head to see the persisting worried frown on her face. "I'm fine, really. I mean, I can't be freaked out by cars forever, right?"

There was a slight pause. But when you looked into your friend's eyes, it wasn't pity you saw—it was silent, sparkling support and encouragement, pride even. "I predict this year is going to be kickass," Bonnie said. "And I predict all the sad and dark times will be over, and you are going to be beyond happy."

A real smile tugged at your lips. "I hope so."

Bonnie nodded with an even bigger smile. And when she returned her eyes to the road, she wasn't too quick to drive. Instead, she counted down from five to one before continuing down the busy street.

To ease the lingering tension and calm your nerves, she turned the radio on full volume. Moments later, you and Bonnie were shamelessly screaming the lyrics to Avril Lavigne's Girlfriend at the top of your lungs, even rolling down the windows so the entire town could hear your chaotic harmony.

--- --- ---

Did I just put two instances of characters singing in one chapter? Why yes I did 🙂‍↕️

Okay it won't happen again

Hope y'all enjoyed <3 Just thought I could start on a light note since it gets dark ✨️

#bonnie bennett #tvd season 1 #jeremy gilbert #jenna sommers #tvd x reader #tvd x you #I was like 14 when I wrote this #bear with me #Spotify

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tempobrucera · 2 years ago

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Poetry Dies Last

Pairing: Thomas x Reader; Thomas x Reader x Ethan Summary: Thomas can’t quite believe his eyes when he sees you fifteen years after the last time. And then he's waiting. Wordcount: 3.4k Warning(s): 3k of sadness, alternative ending to All my friends and Let the devil (can be read without the other ones but then you’re missing the happy end) A/N: @maneskings Thanks for loving this story as much as you do <3

Add yourself to my taglist. / Masterlist

.#####.

Thomas’ seven days of heaven and hell began on a Saturday.

Someone I loved once gave me a box of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift.¹

Thomas reads it again. And again. And again, again, again, again.

Handwritten into one of Ethan’s notebooks he found in a box hidden away. A box his partner told him to clear out as she explained to him that it would be nice to use the space for something else as if it would and should be the easiest thing in the world for him. Space for something else than his personal baggage, he thinks.

The whole morning, he went through Ethan’s scribbles while she was sleeping on the couch with their dog only a few steps away. Peacefully slumbering while Thomas went into turmoil. He knows better, he shouldn’t lurk through Ethan’s thoughts or go through his notebooks, he should give them back to him but he can’t help himself.

The Mary Oliver quote he reads over and over again was written by you. He wonders if you knew how this would end when writing it.

We’re under the same moon and I’m sick with that knowing.²

Ethan wrote it under your quote. He feels sick, and still he wants to go somewhere he hasn’t been for years. Thomas still thinks about you and him with such intensity he worries it became his daily prayer.

She’s still on the couch when he puts the box full of knick knacks away.

“I’m going to the beach.”

“Let’s take the dog,” she yawns, “And go to the beach then.”

“Sure.” It’s not what he wanted, he wanted to go alone, have time for himself and indulge in memories - the past. Doesn’t look like he’ll have the chance for that now.

She is sitting next to him on the passenger seat, her hand on his thigh. The drive is quiet - no words being spoken. There’s only music coming from the speakers he wouldn’t have chosen himself, some noises coming from the dog. He feels like he has to get out of this car before he slows it down.

At the beach he gets a beer and some fries as he did so often. Sharing his beer with Ethan and sharing his fries with you. Days and nights full of laughter, sand everywhere, and the far away thought that the year is already over when the summer begins. The other thought that he’s still with the people he loves. Now he just looks at the sea, how the water laps against the shore. Nipping on his beer. Just one hand in his lap, his dog walking around them.

Two figures are on the horizon but otherwise this part of the beach is empty this time of the day. They have a dog with them as well. He sighs and prepares himself to leash his dog and for a lot of barking.

“Come here, Cinnamon.” He already takes the leash, pets her head and pleads with her. “No barking and jumping people today, okay? Please.”

His partner laughs next to him, loud and freely, he smiles.

The figures are holding hands and one of them is whistling for the dog that comes closer and closer, Cinnamon happily wagging her tail, ready to jump already. But the other dog changes direction, running away from them again. And then there’s a laugh. A laugh that has his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. The fierceness of his own feelings sets him aflame. There’s too many feelings he can’t shake off. It’s your laugh he hears and for a moment he thinks he deluded himself into making up the voice in his head just to feel closer to you again. But there’s a red umbrella with yellow sprinkles that he thought he had misplaced years ago in a hand that isn’t yours before he sees your face and how you’re holding hands with someone that isn’t him.

“Bagel, no.” Your voice is ringing in his ears and Thomas has to close his eyes before he can’t take them off you. There’s a smile around your lips, the guy next to you looks like someone he would have tried to befriend if things would be different. “I assure you these people have no food but I have treats. Sit.”

“I wish Cinnamon would do that and listen sometimes.”

He just hums in agreement. When you look at him Thomas’ whole world stops for a few seconds. He waves - just to see if you react but you don’t wave back and for the last moment you look at him he asks himself if you might have forgotten him entirely. You look ahead and he slowly lets his arm sink down. Cinnamon licks his hand before she walks away. Love is humiliating, he thinks, and wonders if the person next to him sometimes thinks the same.

“Someone you know?”

“I must have mistaken them for someone I used to know.”

He didn’t. He is sure. And when he sees a new DM on Instagram, a photo of you smiling at him, he is certain. You unfollowed him years ago, he did the same but somehow he always came back to check on you. Love in the age of followers, always reminded of each other somehow.

Are you happy?

It has been 15 years. A lifetime away, so long ago. Still seeing you walking along the beach, hand in hand with someone else, a dog running around your legs, breaks Thomas' heart. Again. Over, and over, and over, and over.

The Ouroboros ring is still on his middle finger, like it was all these years ago. There's another ring on his ring finger, glistening in the sun. After all the ring he turns to when he's nervous, when he doesn't know what to do with his hands, he reaches for the one around his neck. It was a promise. Never quite broken, but never fulfilled.

Thomas reaches for it now. His hand still shaking, he wishes you would have looked at him longer, just for a little longer. A second, a minute, just a moment longer. A moment that would have felt like another lifetime. He was close to following you, leaving everything else behind. His dog trudges over, licks his knee, and lays down in his lap - always knowing when he's about to break. There's a hand on his other knee.

Nothing lasts. There is a graveyard where everything I am talking about is, now. I stood there once, on the green grass, scattering flowers.³

He has read those lines once. In one of Ethan's poetry collections, or maybe Ethan read them to him. Thomas has to think about it now, nothing lasts, and everything five feet under. Him, Ethan, you, everything said and everything locked away.

Happy? He isn't happy, he hasn't been in a while. That was a lifetime ago.

He doesn’t know what you expect the answer to be, if you even want to hear the truth.

No.

He types and sends it off.

.#####.

When he drives back to the beach on Sunday, this time alone, he is hopeful. It should scare him but he can’t remember when he felt this much hope flooding through his veins and his mind the last time. The windows are down, wind in his hair and he put Led Zeppelin on, so loud that he can’t hear himself hum to the melody.

He gets his fries and his beer. For a second he thought about asking Ethan to join him, even just for the feeling to not be alone. He didn’t ask, he didn’t say anything, Ethan’s notebooks still in the box at the same spot in the house he made himself a home out of.

But he lets his mind wander back in time. To the times where you and him were watching the sun. When you leaned your head against his shoulder. When you would eat your fries, laugh and tell him from your week. To the times Ethan was there, how Ethan kissed his neck and you kissed his face. To when you went skinny dipping, Thomas splashing Ethan’s face and Ethan dunking him under water in turn and him only feeling safe because your hands never left his body until he resurfaced and he had to cough. But before he could get mad there was always someone to kiss him.

He’s waiting. Waiting for you to appear out of nowhere, to step in his life again like you did the day before. You don’t show up, there’s no answer from you, nothing that would even suggest that you even saw him yesterday.

Thomas would like to stay but he promised to be somewhere else this evening and he can’t wait any longer. He promised Ethan something a while ago and he is sure that everyone else thinks that he has forgotten about it just after saying it.

“You made it.” Vic smiles at him when he sits down on the seat between her and Damiano. Damiano smiles at him as if he knows something no one else does but isn’t saying anything. As expected of him he claps when Ethan is called on the stage and sits down but when he is the only one still doing so Vic elbows him in the ribs slightly.

“Sorry.”

Vic dismisses it with a hand gesture. The whispering from the audience is dying down and only then Ethan begins to speak, book in his lap, glasses on his nose. There’s no introduction, no hello or pleasantries. He just opens the book and starts reading.

“For the ceiling full of stars.”

Thomas’ hands shake and he clutches to his own thighs. His head spins and he only hears scraps of what is being said.

“Explain the children of the world that they should stop growing If there's one thing no one needs, it's more people who hate themselves.”

He knows he will start crying in a second, Vic takes his hand and he’s afraid to crush it.

“And then explain to the lovers, the constant pain of endless searching And if the tears bother us, explain that they are always part of it.”

There are tears rolling down his cheeks, Vic isn’t letting go of his hand and Damiano hands him a tissue as if he came prepared. The rest of the reading he tries to breathe, his vision blurred from tears. He can’t wait to get out of here, this room, away from people, away from all the words that sting and away from Ethan. But Victoria isn’t letting go of him, even when they are standing up. There are tears drying on his cheek while he watches how Ethan’s boyfriend goes to him, hugs him and presses a chaste kiss to his lips, Damiano puts his arm around him, and Ethan looks at him. Thomas’ eyes are closed when Ethan comes to him, he’s sure he makes a pathetic noise when Ethan wipes a stray tear away from his cheek with his thumb, kisses him on the forehead, and then he hugs him. Slowly Thomas lets go of Vic’s hand and his nails are digging into Ethan’s back. Ethan gives him the book he read out of earlier on stage.

Poetry Dies Last - Ethan Torchio

When he looks over Ethan’s shoulder he can see how Ethan’s boyfriend looks at him sceptically.

But he comes over and gives him a quick hug as well, his voice dangerously close to his ear: “I don’t like it but I guess I have to live with you.”

.#####.

Monday afternoon he takes Cinnamon and leaves the house without saying a word and a drive later he finds himself at the beach again.

He waits, again. There’s hope that he can’t quite explain, he’s haunted with it. There’s love he hasn’t felt in a while somewhere under all the pain. He’s only going backwards it seems. Cinnamon next to him howls at the waves when she thinks they are coming too close to him.

You don’t come to see him.

His bare feet are resting in the sand that is cooling down from the heat of the day.

There’s something Ethan quoted once he has to think about: I want nothing. I just want the emptiness to mean something.⁴

Thomas thinks he still knows how ice cream tastes off your lips.

.#####.

Tuesday he’s back in the same spot. He stays longer this time, darkness engulfing him. He’s alone this time but he can see the lights of a small port somewhere in the distance.

Even when you don’t come he knows the lights will still always be there. Somewhere far away but still there for him to see. He would like to know what you’re up to, how you’re doing, where you are. If your dog is in your lap. He wanted to have forgotten you by now but he’s still sitting at your beach waiting for you.

It’s easier during the day, when it’s light outside. But now it’s dark and the sea is whispering your name. He wonders if you’re still thinking about him like he thinks about you but he’s certain that you’re far from that. The only thing he ever wanted was someone to see the mess he is and despite everything find him worthy to be loved. You and Ethan to love him anyway.

It pains him how much he thinks about you. How much seeing you turned his world upside down again.

Thomas lights himself a cigarette. A cigarette he stole from Ethan earlier in the day, an old habit resurfacing again. The first drag of the cigarette feels and tastes weird on his tongue but by the third it feels pleasant. He hasn’t smoked in five years. Something his new partner encouraged and wanted, and he just gave in. Too many bad memories of people handling him without care, too scared that love turns into something else.

The lights are brighter than he remembers. And you're gone, forgetting him and kissing someone somewhere else.

.#####.

Early on Wednesday before she even wakes up, he takes Cinnamon and drives back to the beach. Maybe, that little bit of hope tells him, he’s only there at the wrong time. He gets himself breakfast and a coffee, planning to get his beer and his fries later in the day. The dog jumps around his legs when they’re walking along the shoreline. Running after a toy he throws and bringing it back to him, jumping up to encourage him to run with her.

He’s out of breath when he sits down but he has a small smile on his face. It slowly drops off his face when there’s a new text on his phone.

Where are you? Are you ok?

He thinks about his new relationship, that he changed. That he’s bored with everything and has a boring life with boring sex which feels more like a chore than a blessing and with a relationship that only gives him the feeling to not be alone. He still has his bar that brings him joy and playing live which he always loved the most in his life but everyone around him moved on.

Sometimes Vic would sit next to him, head on his shoulder, and say: “I know you grew up but … I miss my Thom.”

He doesn’t want to be that person, boring, bitter and closed off. And he isn’t, he can’t. He can’t let people from the past win over him like this. People who hurt him, people who scared him, people who abused him. Thomas learned that he has to let certain things go, that they are weighing on him too heavily but he still can’t let go of everything. The sand of the beach passes through his fingers. Maybe the longing for something more is his way of surviving.

Thomas would smile one of his silly smiles. But Vic would elbow him and tell him not to fake it. Not for her. He would feel bad about it for a few moments and Vic would manage to put Fleetwood Mac’s Landslide on, take his hand and dance around with him wherever they were.

On these days he would be himself, feel like he was still 21. Go party with Vic during the night, drink, dance on tables, feel free and like how it’s supposed to be. He would come home late or rather early in the morning, would lay down next to her and think about how much he misses your warmth and Ethan’s lips that would press against his neck.

When he comes back home during the depths of the night he takes the notebook out of the box again.

“I exist in two places, here and where you are.”⁵

He feels exactly like this quote you wrote down in Ethan’s and your collection of poetry quotes years ago. He wonders if you were thinking about him then.

.#####.

He takes Ethan’s poetry book he pressed into Thomas’ sweaty hands the other day. It’s already Thursday but he still goes back to the beach, she looks at him worried when he takes his keys.

He was never an avid reader, the complete opposite to Ethan, but he wants to know what has been written even when the tears will drip down onto the pages later.

For: The ceiling full of stars.

There’s a handwritten note Ethan wrote on the page in red ink.

“I won’t say it wasn’t meant to be, because it was. We were. Only for a short while, maybe. But we were.” - Unknown

Hearts are so easily broken. And I’m sorry, I still go to bed in one of your old t-shirts you forgot at mine sometimes. There’s still songs I put on playlists for you. Playlists full of songs I like because you loved them first. Everything sticks with you in certain ways even if the people don’t and people feel about you the same. I can’t make it sound poetic but the door will always be open if you ever feel like coming home.

Ethan

He didn’t expect the tears to come so easily or so fast but they are. It meant something is the only thing he can think about.

He’s a shaking mess when he turns to the last page hours later.

I love(d) quite passionately, and always with a hint of tragedy.⁶

He almost skips the acknowledgement segment at the end of the book. But his name being first on the page catches his eye. Yours right under his makes his stomach turn.

We could have been okay.

And only then there’s Vic and Damiano getting their thanks.

He’s still sitting in the sand and hoping. It’s time to get his cold beer and fries that are dripping with grease. On the way he thinks about the time Vic told him that she saw you, breaking down in her arms, when he left for Los Angeles with a person that wasn’t good for him and he noticed too late, everyone did. How Vic told him only years later, he thought he wouldn’t forgive her but the one he can’t forgive is only himself.

He wishes he wouldn’t have turned around that day, that maybe he wouldn’t have moved, that things would be different now.

The thought that Vic was right, she’ll break your heart, Thomas. How he has been to hell and back and how he would still say it was wonderful.

.#####.

It feels unreal that it is already Friday again. It’s almost a week since he has seen you. His guitar is on his lap.

This morning he gave her a kiss and she smiled at him. Tired but happy to still have him there. He felt exhausted. Exhausted from looking for something from someone he knows can’t give him what he needs. Deep down he knows she’s hurting too but she still makes him breakfast and sends him off with another kiss.

“Is he okay?”

He hears Damiano ask. And he hears Vic’s worried voice too. They talk about him as if he isn’t there.

“I think he saw her,” Ethan says, “he mentioned something the other day.”

Later he leaves without saying goodbye, only taking the pack of cigarettes out of Ethan’s leather jacket. He wonders if Ethan knows that he started again, or if she can smell it on him when he comes home and lays down next to her in bed.

And then he's back at the beach. He took the notebook with him and his guitar. He has his beer and his fries and the taste of cigarettes that feels comforting to him in a way he doesn’t understand. He flicks through the pages thinking that it might inspire something heart-wrenching in him.

“And I’ll never see you again, if I can help it In five years, I hope the songs feel like covers Dedicated to new lovers”⁷

They don’t and when he picks up his guitar later, he still thinks about you instead of the woman waiting for him in his bed.

There’s a ripped out page in the notebook and Thomas swears to himself that tomorrow is the last day he will wait.

.#####.

It’s Saturday, the sun is about to go under. His bottle of beer is empty, fries are eaten and he knows he should go home, leave this place behind once again.

Thomas sees your naked feet in the sand when he wants to give up, sandals in your hand, before he sees into your face.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“Yes, did you wait?”

“Hope was stronger than not coming back, I guess.” You nod and then you sit down, next to him, close to him. Like he dreamt of every night this week. He looks down and takes his empties. “I have to get something, will you wait?”

Another nod.

Thomas goes to get another beer, more fries and a Sprite for you. There’s six cans of Sprite in his fridge from this week, just because he knows it would have been your drink of choice on a warm day while he can’t stand the taste. For some reason he didn’t take one earlier.

The guy looks at him annoyed: “Only drinks, sorry, I am already closed.”

“Please!” He fishes a 50 euro note out of his wallet.

“Give me ten minutes.” There’s a sigh and a slight shake of the head but the guy still takes his money. “Some large fries with ketchup and mayo, a beer, and … A sprite?”

Thomas nods. He’s nervous. Nervous that you’re gone before he’s back, that you already left, that you realised you made a mistake coming to see him. But when he’s coming back you’re still sitting where he left you. He sits down next to you in the sand and he hands you the fries and the can of Sprite.

“Thank you,” you say.

“For old times sake,” he says and you put your head down on his shoulder. It’s a little bit heartbreaking. A sentiment reserved for old lovers. For something that used to be but isn’t making it any smaller.

He takes a swig of his beer. It feels like you never have been strangers, not even for a second, it feels like you have been here with him for the whole way.

“I miss you!”

“I miss you too,” you say, “both of you.”

“It’s too late … right?” He has to ask even when he knows what the answer is and that he doesn’t want to hear any of it.

You twist the ring on your finger. It’s your wedding anniversary, you shouldn’t be here.

“Yes.”

Six years - he’s six years too late.

“We could just stay here.” He says regardless. “We could just leave, move somewhere close to the ocean and we could just live.”

He knows he’s building castles out of sand but he doesn’t want to stop, not for the moment.

“Sounds like a dream.”

“Can we just disappear?”

You’re holding his hand and your voice sounds tired: "Stop giving me always just that little bit of hope to stay. It hurts so much more, Thomas."

“We could just stay here.”

You aren’t letting go of his hand, you’re still holding it in yours. Maybe there are only endings after the first, everything ends because nothing is endless. Your head is still on his shoulders, he smokes, there’s tears again. And so many memories between you.

“I’m glad you’re in Rome.”

“There’s a reason why Rome rhymes with home.”

You laugh at his stupid joke, like you always did.

“I want you to be happy, Thom.”

“It meant something, right?”

You sit up and you move the hand that isn’t holding his to his cheek.

“It meant something, caro. Of course it did.”

Thomas doesn’t expect it and he can’t stop the whimper falling from his lips when you kiss him. He tastes like years ago. But you can’t shake the feeling that he tastes bitter underneath all the sweetness, the promises and the cigarette smoke. Under the surface it’s bitterness and lost chances. Another lifetime. It doesn’t stop you from leaning in to him and to deepen the kiss for how long it takes.

“I will stay,” Thomas says. Still a little breathless.

“I’ll leave,” you say, “And, Thomas? I love you. I’ll have to live with that. And you’ll have to make peace with everything else.”

“I wish it would be different.”

“I know,” you get up - there’s a last kiss to his lips and one to his cheek. A thumb that wipes a tear away once again. “Say hi to Ethan from me when you see him.”

And then you leave. Leaving him in the sand with castles he made out of air. And a ripped out page that has seen better days.

“Maybe I’ll see you in another life If this one wasn’t enough So much time on the other side”⁸

Is what you have written down. And when he turns it he sees Ethan’s handwriting.

“Missing and silence. Isn’t that enough?”

He could just walk into the water. Wait for everything to go black. And maybe someone would kiss him again. Like all those years ago, after the feeling of drowning. Someone laughing next to him.

He could and that scares him the most but he just sits there in silence.

“Thank you for stopping by all those years ago and for tonight.”

.#####.

END.

.#####.

For everyone who needs the real and actual happy ending now here you go: “All my friends told me you’d break my heart.”

Let the devil be my witness

Add yourself to my taglist. / Masterlist

.#####.

Poetry & lyrics used:

¹ The Uses of Sorrow | Mary Oliver

² Elegy for the Four Chambers of My Brother’s Heart | Steven Espada Dawson

³ Flare | Mary Oliver

⁴ The Complete Short Stories (Scribner, 1987) | Ernest Hemingway

⁵ Selected Poems, 1965-1975 | Margaret Atwood

⁶ Not a direct quote but inspired by this clearly: Letters to Sartre | Simone de Beauvoir

⁷ Night Shift Lucy Dacus

⁸ How Big, How Blue, How Beatiful | Florence + The Machine

.#####.

Taglist: @writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @lauraosheaoh, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @cheese-toastie-11, @h1ppieth1ngs, @paralianeyes, @livvyysstuff, @que–sera–sera, @roisinlove123123, @romanoffswoman, @lovelyy-moonlight, @crwnnjules, @roisinlove123, @chocolatepizzatyrant, @whitewolf-writes, @lizzylynch1, @fugg1977, @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27

#maneskin fanfiction #måneskin #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi #ethan torchio #maneskin #maneskin fanfic #maneskin imagine #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi x y/n #ethan torchio x y/n #ethan torchio x reader #maneskin x you #ethan torchio x you #thomas raggi x you

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theclo4ked1 · 4 months ago

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Bread, Oil, and Super Sonic: The Sonic Month Ever

(I took those moon pictures 10 days prior, it was a perfect night but anyways) June 29, around 2.00am: After many years of NOT trying, but now actually putting in all, and I mean... ALL. of my effort some months ago—then, taking a break because I became busy with stuff, and... Bottom line: very early that morning, I finally collected all the Chaos Emeralds in Sonic 2 (1992 via the Mega Collection, not the Mobile Ports or Origins), definitely the hardest of the tetralogy (1, CD, 2, 3K) to do such a task, though I can't decide which of the other three I'd order next by decreasing difficulty. I say Sonic 2's set is the hardest because the Special Stages' design and "strategy" relies heavily on trial-and-error, i.e. memory. Let's say if, for example, an unassuming casual with little to no experience with this game, had a go at obtaining even one Emerald, I'd wager they'd fail the first Special Stage at least once before succeeding—I assume that because that's the only one (out of the seven) I have relatively sufficient knowledge in life thus far... I'm saying I know it well enough to beat it first try with little mistake. I don't know if it was ever on my bucket list, but it seemed it should have come sooner. Before June 29, I had previously collected all 14 Emeralds in 3&K, the seven Time Stones in CD (2011 via PSN, not the Gems Collection), then the six Emeralds in Sonic 1 (via Sonic Generations); all milestones happening in very distant points in my life. Sonic 2 had always seemed the most difficult to me, so for every time I had followed through with beating the game, I had ignored the Special Zone even though I was capable of getting, at most, two of the Emeralds before really biting the bullet- the bomb, actually.

...A disclaimer: I did this feat playing as Sonic alone for the adventure so Tails wouldn't *CRASH* and make us lose the Rings needed to reach the quota. I've tried before as Sonic and Tails, and I'm sure it's possible with enough time and patience (more than I already have), but you need to time your inputs about a second earlier than you normally would because the Tails CP is programmed to copy Sonic's movements to act like he's really following you, Sonic; seeing him jump, processing, then reacting in accordance. It's not quite frustrating, but when I need to jump over bombs, I'll do that. Tails, though? *CRASH* and then I reflexively squeal "tAiLS" like a stern parent.

[ ! ] The following is not an Addendum, this post has just been in the drafts for an extended period of time, and I haven't got around to finishing it.

So, not even a month later (Jul. 16, 2024, around midnight), I get all the Chaos Emeralds with Tails by my side. It was just as difficult as I'd hypothesized above. Miraculously, I snagged the seventh Emerald by the time I reached Oil Ocean Zone Act 2, just before Metropolis Zone Act I-Forgot-But-I-Think-It-Was-3, which is when I finished the first time. It's hard to prove this to you because the Super Sonic "Good Ending" will play regardless of whether Tails is with Sonic or not. You're just gonna hafta "trust me bro." I'm rather proud of myself, I'm starting to believe that if you really get off your ass and put your mind to something, you can achieve it (with a few exceptions I will not name). Here, watch this, I'd like to share it, I think it's funny and a motivator.

I was forgetting why else I wanted to write this post, but I just remembered: the subtitle "The Sonic Month Ever" is relevant because the Sonic Symphony World Tour showed up a while ago in June and I saw it. It was more special because, as any Sonic fan would know, June is Sonic's birthday month. I got to sing (luckily you don't have to hear how hoarse my voice got by the end of it) and jam with all these strangers around me; it was great, and having played Sonic Mania for myself some time before that event made me squeal during its medley. Sonic Mania made me fall back in love with Classic Sonic, that game is so fucking GOOD, seriously, I've been all over the Mega Collection lately, I haven't touched a fuggin' Colours, or a Generations, or a friggin uhhh Unleashed, or something idk in a long time... Joking aside, I still have to finish Frontiers ever since I wiped my save data to make a complete experience for the Final Horizon update soooo... Oh! Here's a useful life tip: make system restore points on your computer. You don't wanna be like Uncle MAI whose precious Sonic Symphony videos and pictures got corrupted and were thankfully recovered and restored by PhotoRec. Seriously, this happened yesterday, my MicroSD card shit on me and I almost resorted to actually giving money to a data recovery software (lookin at you Disk Drill fuck you piece a shit). I'll spare you the ranting, I did enough of that when I first lost everything ok byye Thanks for reading!

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic 2 #sonic mega collection

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 years ago

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Distraction

Summary: Meeting a single Dad on the plane back to the states was maybe just the distraction you needed to get over your fear of flying.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: reader is afraid of flying, one panic attack

A/N: First time writing for Frankie. I don’t know about fear of flying or about babies, so of course I decided to write about both 🙈 Let me know if you like it 😂

Masterlist

taglist in reblog

Maybe it was time to find a new job. A job that didn’t require traveling to other continents at least once a year. You could be a barista. Or… any work that would require you staying on the ground where you belonged. Not in a tiny capsule that traveled way too fast and way too high.

You felt anxious throughout the whole day when you knew you had to go on a plane. It wasn’t even the height you were scared of. You couldn’t describe it. You always were very independent. Maybe it was the fact that you had to trust a stranger not to fuck up and make the plane crash. You didn’t know who would be the pilot. Of course, you knew that they were all trained professionals, they have to be but… ugh. Overthinking. You were overthinking again. Handing the stewardess your boarding pass she smiled kindly at you and you tried to smile back before you sighed and slowly walked down towards the plane.

As soon as your nose smelled the engine (yes you could smell it) you felt like your stomach wouldn’t make it. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep, trying to remember that millions of people did this every day. Opening your eyes you looked at the plane door where a man was just climbing in, a baseball cap on his head. He was carrying a baby that was sleeping on his shoulder as if nothing else mattered. You smiled softly. If a baby could do it, you could too.

Nope. No you couldn’t.

You felt your throat getting dryer the further you walked into the plane in search of your seat. You never sat at the window, always in the middle. You read that it was more safe once. When you arrived in the row you would be sitting you couldn’t help but smile, finding the man with the baby sitting on the window seat, the baby carrier in the middle seat. He looked up and you were met with warm brown eyes. His hand was on the baby’s back, almost covering it entirely. He gave you a tired smile and you nodded.

“Hi,” you whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.

“Hey,” he nodded quietly. You took your coat off, putting it in the cabinet over the seat, and sat down. You intended to work on your way back to the states so you brought your laptop. Pushing your bag under your seat you got out your phone, putting it in flight mode before you secured the seat belt. People were still coming into the plane and you felt yourself getting more nervous. Sucking your bottom lip in, you took out the card with the safety instructions in front of your seat, reading it carefully. Your assigned security exit was just two rows behind that was good to know. You were unaware of the man sitting two seats next to you watching you. You crossed your legs, your sweaty hands on your thigh when they closed the doors. You turned your head as you heard the man next to you mumble in Spanish and noticed that the baby had woken up and was now looking at you with big eyes. She was still lying against the man’s chest, her head just under his chin, his lips kissing her head. You looked at him then, noticing how attractive he was, his eyes closed as he gently rubbed circles on the baby’s back. His base cap sat deep on his head, dark wild curls underneath that peaked out. You never thought a mustache could be attractive but maybe he was the exception.

People were finally settled in their seats and you felt the plane move as the announcement from the boarding crew came for the safety instructions. You heard a tiny whimper and looked at the man. The baby was clearly not happy with the loud voices from the speaker. You wondered why he was alone on a plane on a seven-hour flight back to the states with a baby that couldn’t be much older than maybe four months. A noise made you jump and he looked at you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassed.

“First flight?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I wish it was. That wouldn’t make me being scared so embarrassing,” you sighed, your eyes wandering between him and the baby on his chest. He smiled a little.

“You can’t choose your fears,” he shrugged. He was right you couldn’t.

“I wish I could though. I feel like I’m gonna faint every time I have to fly.”

He looked at you before he began to open a bag that was laying in the baby carrier.

“You probably already heard all kinds of solutions for going over your fear but as a pilot let me assure you, that it’s perfectly safe.” He seemed to have found what he was searching for, a baby bottle with milk in his hands.

“You’re a pilot?” you asked fascinated.

“Was. Military. But can’t with this one needing me around,” he kissed the baby’s head.

You smiled. “She’s adorable.”

“She’s my whole world,” he put her in the crook of his left arm, his right hand checking the bottle.

“Gotta make sure the entire plane doesn’t hate me for bringing you on here, baby girl,” he said quietly. She looked up at him with big eyes, her little arms going up as he brought the bottle in her line of view and you chuckled. He looked at you, giving you a soft smile.

“It’s our second flight but she’s a trooper,” he explained. “Feeding her during take-off and landing helps with the ear pressure,” he explained.

“Are we taking off already?” you asked, feeling the nervous flutter inside your belly.

“I can talk you through it, if you want to?” he offered as he brought the bottle down and the baby began to suck eagerly just when the plane seemed to be in starting position.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you shook your head.

“I wouldn’t have offered, if it would bother me,” there it was again, that shy smile that made your heart seem to stop for a second.

“Okay. Thank you…”

“Frankie,” he offered.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you smiled.

You still felt nervous after an hour in the air but now you weren’t sure if it was the flight or the man sitting next to you. Finding an attractive and, as you found out, single Dad that looked at his baby girl like it was his whole world, didn’t help to settle your nerves or ovaries. But you would take this kind of nervousness in a heart beat instead of your fear of flying. He had talked you through every little step on what the pilot would be doing. It may vary from flying a helicopter as he did, but the steps were the same. He had squeezed your hand that was grabbing the seat like a lifeline an hour ago. You swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand.

Sofia, the 3 ½-month-old girl that was his daughter was now laying in the baby carrier in the middle seat, her hand squeezing your finger as she slept. Every thought of working on your project was gone as you looked down at the sleeping baby.

“She’s got a pretty hard grasp,” you said looking down at her.

“Yeah. She’s so big already. I can’t believe it,” Frankie said. You looked up, seeing him lift his hat, his hand running through his hair before he put his cap back on. You smiled at him.

“What brought you over here?” you asked. He made a face.

“One of my military friends was wounded.”

“Oh. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Thank you for asking.”

“I wish I had friends like that. Flying for me over the globe in a heartbeat,” you sighed, trying to overplay the sadness in your face.

“Oh I’m sure you have someone,” he mused.

“I used to. But I moved across the country after my father died and I never really got settled in where I live now if that makes sense?”

“Well, why don’t you hang out with me… uh us?” Frankie suggested. You looked up at him.

“Careful with an offer like that. I might just say yes to hang out with Sofia,” you teased. As if she could hear you, she squeezed your finger and you just about melted.

“She’s great to hang out with, I’ll give her that,” Frankie said “But can she hold an hour-long conversation with a beautiful woman?”

You looked up then, seeing him look at you and you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Guess I’ll have to talk to you until she can, huh?” you teased.

“Guess so,” he shrugged, a small smirk on his lips.

Frankie had just left to use the bathroom, leaving Sofia under your watchful eyes when her eyes blinked open. She seemed to look for her Dad until she looked at you. You could see her small lips pouting, her face frowning and your heart broke before she had even whimpered for the first time. Carefully you took her out of the baby carrier, hoping Frankie would be okay with you taking her out and took her into your arms. She was fully crying now.

“Shh…” you mumbled, propping her up so she was lying in the crook of your arm.

“Dad’s gonna be here any minute now, sweet Sofia,” you said soothingly. She didn’t stop. Sighing you changed so she was with her head on your shoulder as you got up from your seat. Maybe taking a little walk with her would help. You run your hand over her back like you had seen Frankie did before as you walked down the aisle and her cries got quieter until they stopped when you were close to the cockpit.

“There you go. You just wanted to see something different, huh, baby girl?” you asked whispering soothingly.

“Where’s your papa? What’s taking him so long?” you ask, beginning to walk back towards the seat. Frankie’s wasn’t back so you took Sofia down to the other side of the plane. You giggled as you found Sofia grab your hair and pulling lightly.

“Hey… Do you do that with your Dad’s hair too?” you asked, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer. You pulled her from your shoulder and she looked at you with big eyes as you put her in your arm so she could look up at you. Passing an older lady you smiled.

“She looks just like you,” the woman smiled softly as she looked down at Sofia who was still looking at you. You felt your cheeks getting warm again.

“Oh... I’m not…” you began but she only nodded at you and walked back to her seat. Confused you walked further until you saw Frankie walking towards you. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at you and you hoped you didn’t overstep.

“I’m sorry. She was crying and…”

“She likes you,” he said, his hand brushing over her cheek and she smiled, clearly noticing her Dad was back.

“You want her back?” you ask, secretly hoping he didn’t.

“I think she looks very comfortable where she is,” he said. You looked up, finding him looking at you. He was taller than you but he was close. So close. You didn’t notice the spot on his jaw that was beard free before and you found yourself wanting to kiss him there. Kiss him everywhere. You gulped, looking down again.

“Let’s get back to our seat, huh, little lady?” you asked and walked back.

Sofia was sleeping again and you were trying to read your book. And not think about the man sitting two seats next to you. You looked at him from the side and found him always already looking at you. You felt like a teenager. You had to smile to yourself, thinking that must have been the longest date you had ever been on. You chuckled to yourself which made Frankie look at you, an eyebrow raised. You just shook your head embarrassed.

“I was thinking…” he began.

“Yes?” you asked.

“Can I invite you for a drink?”

You blinked at him, sucking your bottom lip in. You were about to answer when the whole plane shook with a turbulence and you sucked your breath in harshly. For a moment you had forgotten where you were.

“Shit…” you whispered to yourself, leaning with your head against the seat, closing your eyes, while your fingernails grabbed into the seat. The plane shook again and you breathed in and out to control your rising panic.

“Hey…” you felt someone grab your hand. You were too scared to open your eyes.

“It’s just some minor turbulence. We gonna be out of it in no time,” it was Frankie. He felt how your hand was shaking and didn’t let go.

“Just breathe. Can you open your eyes for me?” he asked. You shook your head, squeezing his hand harder.

“I know you can, look at me Hermosa,” you could sense that he was closer. Turning your head towards his side you opened your eyes.

“There you are, now breathe with me,” he looked at you and you got lost in his eyes as he breathed with you and you felt yourself calm down.

“That’s better. You made it,” he smiled. He was still holding your hand.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you said quietly. He leaned down, kissing the back of your hand he was still holding and you shivered when his lips connected with your skin.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled.

He didn’t let your hand go until Sofia woke up and demanded very loudly for her bottle.

It was you who gave Sofia her bottle as the plane landed and it made you forget about your fear of flying. Frankie watched you the whole time and it made your heart flutter. You wanted this. Only 7 hours ago you were on another continent and alone and now you had the baby of a man you met on a plane in your arms you didn’t want to let go.

You never even thought about children. There never was someone you could imagine having children with. It was always you. Just you.

But Frankie had shown you more attention in the last hours than any other person ever since your father died. You were lonely, you knew that. But you had made your peace with it. You were enough. But maybe you didn’t have to be just enough. Maybe you wanted to be more. Maybe Frankie wanted to be more.

The plane stopped and you smiled sadly down at Sofia in your arms. Slowly you put her in the baby carrier and she wasn’t happy about it. You almost cried.

“Come on you were so good the whole time…” Frankie whined and you giggled. He looked at you with a playful pout.

“I think she misses you already,” he said and you sighed.

“I’ll miss her too,” you smiled down at her, your hand brushing over her head and she took hold of one of your fingers again, making you chuckle.

You helped let Frankie out to get his stuff first, staying seated with Sofia. He gave you your coat and you reached for your bag under the seat before you got out of your seat. He had a backpack on and reached for the baby carrier. You were the last people on the plane. You waited until he had everything before you slowly walked towards the exit of the plane. Thanking the stewardess who was standing near the cockpit with a smile you got out of the plane, thankful to finally be on solid ground. You were about to turn around to look where Frankie was when you felt him grab your hand, squeezing it once. There it was, the nervous flutter in your belly again as you looked up at him and saw his small smile.

You were standing together waiting for your suitcase. Frankie had put Sofia in her stroller where she was sleeping peacefully. He already had his suitcase and was waiting for you.

“So…” you began, looking at him. He turned, now facing you fully.

“So?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

“I was wondering about that drink you offered?” you asked. He nodded.

“How would you feel about dinner on Saturday? I’ll come and visit you in the big city?” he smiled. You felt your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You couldn’t wait.

“What about Sofia?” you asked.

“My friend can watch her. He owes me and… I want to be alone with you,” he stepped closer and you sucked your bottom lip in as you looked up.

“It’s only an hour drive, please say yes…” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Great. You have to get a table I have no idea what’s good over there. I’m more of a country guy…” he brought his hand up, cupping your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“How about I cook dinner?” you offered, “So we truly are alone,” you clarified.

He leaned down, his lips brushing over yours softly and you closed your eyes, your hand clutching his soft shirt. He leaned his forehead against yours when he parted from your lips, breathing deeply.

“Yeah. Alone. I like to be alone with you,” he whispered, his nose brushing over yours. You nodded before you took a step back.

“Saturday?” you asked as you walked out.

“Saturday,” he replied and kissed you again.

#my writing #frankie morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #Pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic

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gubler-me-up · 4 years ago

Text

Too Much Caffeine

Request: hey i saw you wanted requests!! how about one where spencer and reader, (or OC, not a big deal) have a competition to who can go the longest without drinking coffee?? just pure fluff and sweetness

A/N: Thanks for the request, @rainy-day-gracie! Sorry this took so long because I was trying to figure out whether or not I liked the third person narrative I was writing it in. It was hard writing in third person after writing in second person for 20 requests LOL I hope it’s an enjoyable read overall!

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Content warning: None just pure competitive fluff

Word count: 3k

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

Y/N walked into the office early Friday morning to get a head start with her case files. She thought if Hotch was in a good enough mood he would send her home early. That would only happen if he was in the happiest of moods. She didn’t think she’d put all her eggs in one basket hoping for that outcome, but her optimism was still high for the day. To get her spirits even higher she decided to start her day off with a fresh coffee.

As she entered the bullpen, she made a b-line towards the coffee maker. She wasn’t surprised to see Spencer Reid there making she assumed his third cup of coffee already. He was obviously pouring a ridiculous amount of sugar into his coffee and stirring it with an urgency as if he needed to drink it immediately. Y/N giggled to herself as she placed herself beside Spencer and nudging his arm with her elbow.

“Morning, Dr. Coffee Addict. Is that cup one or cup 30?” She joked.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I would never have 30 cups of coffee in a day. This is only my second.”

“It’s 8:30 a.m. and you’re having a second cup? You should still be nursing your first cup,” she said.

He chuckled. “Coming from you? That’s rich.”

She playfully gasped. “What do you mean by that?”

“I think your coffee addiction is a tad more worrisome than mine. I’ve noticed you drink about seven cups a day.”

“I do not. You might be mixing me up with you, good doctor.”

“Y/N, I have an eidetic memory and you’re saying I’m lying? I only have four to five cups a day.”

“More like four to five cups an hour.”

“What are you two arguing over now?”

The two of them turned around to see Emily walking towards them. She looked at Spencer with his coffee in hand. Then she looked at Y/N and just knew she was bout to make a cup of coffee as well. She sighed and rolled her eyes at the amount of coffee addiction at one counter.

“What cup is this for you two? Reid, I’m guessing this is your second and Y/N, I’m guessing this is your first and your second will be in 15 minutes,” she said.

Both Y/N and Spencer looked at her in shock. Hearing someone outside of the two of them reflect on their coffee addiction got them to thinking. Was it really that bad? Emily chuckled as she put on a mischievous face which only meant no good. Y/N soon picked up on Emily’s face and got this sinking feeling.

“Oh no, what’s the face for, Em?” She asked.

“Well, I just think you two should have some sort of coffee intervention,” she suggested.

“Don’t tell me you want to take away the coffee maker,” Spencer said.

“Why take away the coffee maker and deprive the rest of us? I think you two should take a well-needed break from coffee and I think there should be an award system in place,” she suggested.

“You want to Pavlov us?” He asked.

“No, I’m not going to be the one handing out rewards. I think you two should have a friendly competition to see who can last the longest without drinking any caffeine for a whole day,” she suggested.

Y/N and Spencer looked at each other with skeptical eyes. Her need to win any competition was her burning desire to make a bet. Spencer’s desire to always be right was his motivation to even consider giving up coffee for a while. Y/N looked at Spencer with her hand stretched out for a handshake.

“If I win, you have to buy me dinner tonight. I’m in the mood for some Chinese,” she said.

Spencer scoffed. “Guess you won’t be having dinner tonight because when I do win you’ll have to buy me a cup of coffee for the rest of the month.”

“Deal,” she said.

Spencer grabbed her hand to shake on it. He didn’t think it would be hard at all for her to break. He knew how easily Y/N couldn’t say no to a cup of coffee. Though the look in her eyes showed a strong determination to win.

“I’ll be watching you two very closely,” Emily said.

“You should join us in the bet,” Y/N suggested.

Emily scoffed. “I’m not insane enough to do this bet. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to make my first cup of the day.”

Emily took Spencer’s cup from his hands to take a sip. She immediately stopped drinking it and made a repulsed face. She could already feel a few cavities starting to set in. She went over to the sink and poured it out. Spencer looked at her in shock as he couldn’t believe she was wasting such a good cup of coffee.

“Yeah, Reid, this bet is probably going to save you from diabetes alone,” she said

Spencer looked thoroughly upset at Emily’s actions, but Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. She believed it was for the best Spencer partake in this bet to avoid sugar seeping into his bloodstream permanently. She gave him a small pat on the back before walking away as he still stood there arguing with Emily about her wasteful actions.

——————

Y/N looked at the time on her watch. It was only 11 a.m. She let out a long, exaggerated sigh as she thought about how many hours she had left on this stupid bet. Doing paperwork back to back with nothing to energize her was brutal punishment. She looked over to Spencer as he flew through his paperwork with his seventh cup of water not too far from his reach.

However, Y/N wasn’t buying that there was water in his cup. She knew he would get up any moment now to use the washroom and then she’d have the opportunity to check. It’s as if she planned it perfectly because he got up to leave his desk. She watched as he walked away and when she thought he was far enough, she got up to walk over to his desk.

She inspected the top of his desk to see if there were any remnants of sugar wrappers or fresh coffee stains. Nothing. Maybe she was underestimating his determination to go without coffee for the whole day. She looked into his empty mug to see if there were any signs of coffee.

‘I need a closer look,’ Y/N thought.

She picked up the mug and held it close enough to her face where she could smell if there were any traces of coffee. She took a deep sniff, but didn’t pick up on anything. Thinking her sense of smell was off, she lifted the mug a bit closer to her nose. She took another deep sniff. Nothing.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” She heard Spencer say.

She swiftly turned around to see Spencer behind her with a conniving smirk. He knew exactly what she was trying to do. He wasn’t a profiler for nothing after all. She placed the mug down and gave him an awkward smile.

“I was just checking to see if you needed a clean mug. Some of these mugs never get cleaned properly, it’s disgusting,” she said.

“Well, good thing I bring mine from home every day. Maybe if you spied more on Star Trek mug and less on me than you would know,” he joked.

She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t spying on you. That’s the last time I care about your well being when it comes to bacteria.”

“You can worry about lingering bacteria after I win the bet,” he said.

She rolled her eyes again, but with a certain flair. Spencer could see the fierceness in her eyes and knew she’d do anything to throw him off. He watched as she walked away back to her desk. He watched as she sat back down and she looked up at him noticing his long stare. She stuck out her tongue quickly at him before going back to her paperwork as if nothing had happened. Spencer chuckled. He’d get her back for that.

A few more hours had passed and it was 2 p.m. Spencer was now on his 14th cup of water and his bladder hated him for it. He was about to get up for his seventh washroom break until he saw JJ walking towards Y/N. He decided his bladder could wait a second. JJ had her purse with her and her reusable coffee mug in her hand. Her set up indicated to him she was going to get coffee and was going to ask Y/N if she wanted coffee.

“Hey, Y/N. I’m going to Starbucks, did you want me to get you a coffee?” JJ asked.

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’m good. Thanks though, J.”

“How come? You haven’t had a coffee all day and I think it’s affecting your paperwork,” Spencer chimed in.

Y/N looked over at Spencer with dagger eyes. JJ looked over at Spencer and saw him wearing a smart-aleck smirk. She looked at him suspiciously as to why he was eager to encourage Y/N to get a coffee. She was starting to think there was something off between both of them. It was strange enough Y/N hadn’t had a coffee all day, but Spencer not having coffee was even stranger.

“Why haven’t either of you had coffee today?” JJ asked.

“Don’t worry about that right now. Worry about Y/N’s Starbucks order. If I remember it’s usually a grande Americano with cream and three sugars. I’ll even pay for it for you if you’d like,” he said as he reached for his wallet.

“Don’t you dare. I only wanna see your wallet when you’re paying for the bill tonight after I win this bet?” Y/N said.

JJ raised a questionable eyebrow. “Bet?”

“Yes, Spencer and I have a bet as to who can last the longest without coffee for the day,” she explained.

JJ nodded. “I see. Well, if I had my bet on anyone I’d say Y/N is going to win.”

Spencer looked at JJ shocked. Appalled even. Y/N looked at him with the biggest smirk anyone could have. She did a little hair flip and gave him a sly side-eye.

“JJ, are you serious? You think I’m more of a coffee addict than Y/N?” He asked.

“Duh. Anyway, I’ll leave you two to your waters and whatever else you two can drink to suppress your coffee cravings while I go satisfy mine,” she said.

As she turned around to leave, Spencer watched her leave still in shock at what she said. He couldn’t believe she actually thought that. His thoughts were soon interrupted by a piece of balled up paper hitting his head. He instantly turned to the direction it came from and knew Y/N had thrown it. He glared at her, but she just stared at him with her unfaded smirk. He picked up the paper and held it up for her to see.

“Really? We’re throwing things now?” He asked.

“Well, if you’re going to try and sabotage me, I might as well try to attack you back in some way,” she said.

“I wasn’t trying to sabotage you,” he said as he threw the paper ball back at her.

She caught it in the air as she giggled at his pitch. He actually threw it pretty well. Even on his face he looked impressed and Y/N found it rather cute.

“Nice pitch, doctor. Maybe the next bet I win you can take me to a baseball game,” she said.

“The fact you already think you’re going to win is rather narcissistic of you,” he joked.

“It’s not narcissistic if it’s true,” she said as she threw the paper ball back at him.

The pitch was a bit too high and went over Spencer’s head. Y/N gasped as she saw the paper ball hit Emily on the head. She swiftly turned her chair around to glare at not only Y/N, but Spencer. Y/N gave her an awkward, sorry smile. Spencer spun around in his chair to see what happened and instantly felt Emily’s glare.

“You know, I can deal with you bickering between you two, but once weapons are involved I have to draw the line,” she said as she held up the paper ball.

“Yeah, Spencer. How dare you make a war out of this little competition?” Y/N said in an innocent voice.

“What?” Spencer exclaimed.

“Reid,” Emily said.

Spencer looked at Emily shocked. “Emily, are you serious right now? You know the angle of that paper ball couldn’t have possibly-”

“Emily, would you like anything to drink?” Y/N said as she got up from her seat.

“Ooo, yes. Coffee, please, with cream and sugar,” she said.

“Emily,” Spencer exclaimed.

“Don’t be jealous that I can drink caffeine today and you can’t,” she said.

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but decided it was best not to talk on deaf ears. He turned around and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. He looked at Y/N who was already looking at him. She winked at him before walking off to grab Emily’s coffee. He sighed again. Even though she wasn’t making this competition easy, she definitely made it entertaining for him.

It was finally 4:45 p.m. and the competition was coming to an end. Y/N was packing her things to leave and so was Spencer. They had both finished up their paperwork early and Hotch had given them both permission to leave early. Y/N was surprised her prayers had been answered when it came to Hotch’s mood for the day.

As they were finishing packing up, Morgan walked up to Spencer’s desk. He was holding two cans of coke in his hand. He gestured towards Y/N with the can in his right hand. He raised an eyebrow in question as to whether she wanted it. She shook her head. She wasn’t a big coke fan. Morgan then tapped Spencer’s shoulder to get his attention. He looked at him.

“Pretty boy, do you want a coke? Garcia and I were just cleaning out the fridge and wanted to get rid of some of the pops,” Morgan explained.

Spencer shrugged. “Sure. It’ll be a change from drinking thirty cups of water.”

He took the extra Coke from Morgan’s left hand. Morgan opened his and then Spencer followed. As soon as Y/N heard the can open, she realized that was the sound of victory. Morgan and Spencer clinked cans before taking a sip. Y/N nearly jumped out of her shoes as she pointed at Spencer with a huge smile.

“You lost,” she shouted.

“What? How?” He asked.

“Lost what?” Morgan asked.

“The bet,” she said.

“Ah, yes, I did hear about this bet from JJ and Emily. Well, this seems as if it’s going to get messy, so I’ll take my leave of absence. Happy weekend,” Morgan said before leaving.

“How did I lose?” Spencer asked.

Y/N laughed and couldn’t stop herself. She looked at him as he stared at her dumbfounded. He didn’t understand how he had lost by drinking a Coke. She eventually calmed herself down. She wanted to be cool and collected enough to explain her victory.

“Well, doctor, I hope you of all people know that there is caffeine in Coke,” she explained.

“But it’s not coffee,” he detested.

“Uh-uh, the bet was who can last the longest without caffeine, not coffee or has your eidetic memory failed you as well?” She joked.

Spencer sighed as he put down the can on his desk. He had to admit his defeat, but he didn’t feel the defeat as deeply as Y/N thought. Throughout the day his competitive spirit was wearing away as he and Y/N were goofing around with each other. He didn’t know how fun a competition with her could be. Definitely made his day a bit more interesting.

“I guess you won,” he said.

Y/N looked at him suspiciously. She knew how he got whenever he lost at something. He was a bit too calm for her liking. She was starting to think the little Coke incident wasn’t an accident.

“Did you purposely lose?” She asked.

“I would never purposely lose. It just so happened that I was strictly fixated on not drinking coffee that I didn’t even think drinking another caffeinated beverage would make me lose,” he explained.

She squinted her eyes at him. “I don’t think that’s all true.”

“I guess you don’t want Chinese tonight then,” he said as he picked up his satchel.

Y/N immediately hooked her arm under his. He slightly blushed as he looked at her. She looked at him with a gentle smile and even gentler eyes. He guessed her competitive spirit was finally gone for the day.

“I’m starting to think you losing was a clever scheme to take me out,” she said as they began walking towards the bullpen doors.

Spencer chuckled. “Maybe you could say that or maybe this is just your victory dinner you wanted. I’ll leave the interpretation up to you.”

She smiled. “I would like to interpret it as a small date if that’s alright with you.”

“That’s fine with me.”

Y/N squeezed his arm a little tighter from excitement. She knew from his passive replies that he wanted it to be a date. This was probably the best outcome she could have for a competition reward. She felt as if it was only fair for her to come clean to him if he had already lost.

“Hey, Spence. What would you say if, you know, I had taken a sip of Emily’s coffee when I was making it?” She asked.

“You what?” Spencer exclaimed.

“How about we discuss this over dinner?” She giggled.

“You definitely owe me coffee for the rest of the month,” he said.

“If we make them coffee dates, I wouldn’t mind,” she said.

He couldn’t help, but smile. “I’d love that.”

—–

MASTERLIST

#spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #dr.spencer reid #Spencerreid #spencer reid request #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler

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it-was-summer · 4 years ago

Text

Video Killed The Radio Star- Chapter 3 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Same things applies with the asterisks in this chapter, I hoped it helped last chapter! Please remember that if anything relates to you in this series that you are not alone and you are loved! I am begging you all to read the warnings and be safe. Thank you for all the love and support! Please enjoy this chapter. Love, Em :)

Warnings: Infidelity, cursing, blood, gruesome imagery, mentions of suicide, disturbing content, sex talk, sensitive material ahead (After the interrogation a very dark scene will occur, please, please be wary)

Plot: The team start to piece some new information together and get a little bit closer to finding you, Morgan and Reid unknowingly meet with their Unsub.

Word Count: 3k

The first shop Derek and Spencer visited was a tiny shop just around the corner from the library, they proceeded to bombard the manager with questions. Had they seen a beautiful woman come in here, asked if anyone had bought an insane amount of roses around Valentine’s Day. They got an abundance of death glares for that question, it did seem stupid.

They didn’t get anywhere till store number five, a slightly bigger store that seemed to be closer to your apartment complex. Behind the counter stood a red-headed woman, looking extremely bored. Her name tag read, Sorrel, and her posture became straighter as the two men approached the counter. “Welcome into the Rose Bud, how can I help the two of you today?” her voice didn’t seem to match her, Spencer assumed it was just her ‘customer service’ voice.

“Hi,” Derek motioned between the two of them, smiling, “I’m Derek Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI. Are you the manager?”

Her eyes went wide at the sound of ‘FBI’, but she didn’t seem nervous just surprised. “Manager? No, our manager is Heather.” She glanced over at the clock mounted on the wall before frowning “Heather left early today around four, usually, she’s here from open to close but she got a call from her husband and left.”

Spencer spoke up this time “What time do you open?”

“We’re open from nine in the morning till seven in the afternoon. Why are you asking about Heather?”

“We just wanted to ask her a couple of questions,” Morgan answered gently, he didn’t want to panic the girl more. “Do you think she would be alright with us visiting her house, to ask her some questions?”

Sorrel bit her lip gently, she had a hard time saying ‘no’ to people, so she nodded a very slow ‘yes’. “I don’t think she would mind, no.” she opened a drawer, pulled out a notepad, and started to write down Heather’s home address, handing the paper over to Derek quickly. “She’s not in trouble, right?”

“I doubt it, ma’am.”

Heather lived in the suburbs, a white picket fence adorned with bushels of flowers, rose bushes, azaleas, peonies, etc. There was no doubt she had a green thumb. According to Garcia, her husband was in the navy and had been deployed to Okinawa, Japan. They got married when she was twenty, a couple of years after she dropped out of college.

When she opened the door her hair was wet, but even Spencer took note that she was, indeed, beautiful. She invited the two of them in, getting two glasses of water for them as they sat in her living room. Her living room had grey walls with forest green accents, Spencer found it aesthetically pleasing. She set two glasses on the dark green coffee table using coasters, said coasters had different flowers on each one. She noticed how Spencer’s eyes lingered on the coasters and she smiled before saying “They were a gift,” she sat down “When you work with anything floral people just default to flowers.”

Morgan laughed lightly and nodded “I understand that.” Heather smiled at him before she let out a tiny sigh.

“So, how can I help you?”

“We just wanted to ask some questions regarding your customers, see if you had any regular customers, possibly a woman?”

“I’m sorry, but could you be a little more specific?”

“She probably seemed on edge, came in on Valentine’s Day and bought quite a bit of rose’s?”

“Valentine’s Day? You’re joking right? Everyone buys roses on Valentine’s Day!”

“We know, we know, maybe she came in later on in the day, possibly near closing?”

Heather bit her lip, doing a phenomenal job of not smiling, before she let out a tiny gasp. “Yes! Oh, what was her name?” she asked herself as she tapped her temples gently “Adeline Smith! She came in just before closing, looked like she had been crying all day or something, bought a big order of roses she reserved the day before, all red roses. I remember she used a credit card, it had a picture of her family on it.” Heather smiled a little, letting it drop as she feigned concern. “We went to college together, well before I dropped, is she okay?”

“I’m sure she is,” Derek said as he stood up, Spencer following quickly. Heather led them to the door, exchanging pleasantries with the two men with the sweetest smile, closing the door gently as the two men were walking down her driveway towards their car. Her smile dropped as soon as the door shut, she turned on her heel and headed upstairs to a sealed door with locks decorating it. She unlocked them as fast as she could. Her mind was racing, you were just right upstairs and those men, those filthy, horrible men could have found you. They could have exposed the love the two of you shared, she couldn’t let that happen. Then she stepped into the pink room.

***

The morphine was wearing off slowly, it started about an hour ago. The throbbing pain in your foot was coming back slowly but now you felt more awake. You were able to sit up on the heart-shaped bed, scooting back so you could rest against the headboard. It was possible that over the course, well actually you didn’t know what day it was, you only knew it was a weekday because the other two days she had been with you almost all day. Your eyes scanned the walls, foam padded them and you didn’t see any windows so you assumed that the room was sound proofed, you frowned.

While you were happy you could have a complete thought, you were slowly become more convinced that you were never going to get out here. Years would pass and you wouldn’t remember your name, you would be Catherine. Maybe Heather would kill you. Then a sudden and terrifying thought snuck in, what if you fell in love with Heather? Would it come to the point that you would be so brainwashed to love someone so delusional?

The sound of keys jingling and locks unlocking brought you back to reality. You didn’t have time to think about the future, not when Heather was coming in with a frown on her face. “Catherine,” her frown dissipated as she shut the door behind her, quickly making her away over to you. You tried your hardest to move closer to the bed, Heather noticed this and let out a sigh as she sat on the bed next to you. “I know I look mad, some terrible men,” she pulled you over to her by the arm, stroking your hair quickly “Some terrible men, tried to take you away today.” You turned your head towards her, speaking in a shaking voice.

“Men?”

“Men. It’s always men. I hate them, all of them. They’re all pigs, honestly.” Heather pushed some hair out of your face before she continued “My husband, he’s gone right now, thank god, he’s such a bastard. Sleeps around on me, can you believe that? He sleeps with other women, while he’s married to me!” her eyes met yours and she relaxed more “That’s why I’m so glad I have you, my dear Catherine.” she whispered gently as she leaned in to kiss you on the lips sweetly, a shiver shooting down your spine as you tried your best to disassociate from the situation.

Heather pulled away with a soft giggle, she looked so desperately happy, a complete one-eighty from how she was when she came in just a few seconds ago. You tried to think back to college, tried to think about how she used to be. “You know I remember when I first saw you,” Heather spoke up as she ran her fingers through your messy hair slowly “, it was move-in day and you were walking back downstairs when you saw me struggling to pick up some boxes and you stopped, bent down and helped me. I was so happy that someone so kind saw me and picked me.”

You hung on her words, wondering why she decided to say that you picked her, when in fact you just simply helped her. Was that all it took for someone to become obsessed? Your stomach twisted with anxiety as Heather pulled you in her lap, hugging you around the waist. “If they ever found you, I don’t know what I’d do,” she trailed off slowly before she rested her chin on your back “ If they ever found us, I’d have to kill you and then I would kill myself.” Heather decided in a quick moment, hoping that they would never find you and you, wanting to stay alive, felt the same.

That night, Heather had fallen asleep in the same bed as you. You, however, didn’t get a wink of sleep the entire night, you thought about the keys she had carelessly thrown on the dresser, but you didn’t think you had the strength to make that type of move. In all her madness, Heather had forgotten to feed you. An empty stomach, mixed with veins filled with morphine was not a good mix, and despite your disgust, you were finding it hard to stay awake. As soon as Heather left in the morning, your eyes closed.

***

Spencer and Morgan called Garcia on their way back to the Richmond police station, learning that Adeline was a widow and a mother of one daughter. When they got back, J.J. carefully placed a photo of Adeline on the whiteboard. “It seems like Adeline Smith and Heather Alexander both went to the same college as Y/N L/N, all lived in the same hall and possibly on the same floor.”

Prentiss spoke up “Are we sure the unsub is a woman?” Spencer nodded as he wrote down some information underneath Adeline’s photo.

“It’s possible that when her husband died, Y/N reached out and that’s when the obsession started.”

“Let’s bring her in for some questions before we decide that,” Hotch said, then the team headed out.

March 9, 20XX

The next day, Adeline was cradling her cup of water, seeming extremely depressed as she waited for someone to come into the interrogation room. Her mind should have been at the police station, but all she could think about was her daughter. Her daughter was currently sleeping in a hospital bed. “Adeline,” Prentiss’s voice broke her away from her thoughts in a second. “Thank you for coming in today.” Adeline nodded, feeling suddenly stiff.

“You knew Y/N L/N in college, correct?” Another nod. “Would you say the two of you were close?”

Adeline smiled at the thought of you, of course, the two of you were close, you were at her wedding. “Yes, we were roommates. Y/N was my best friend, she was at my wedding, and when John,” Adeline paused and took a sip of her water. “When John died, she made some dinners for me and Anna, my daughter.” she finished, looking Prentiss in the eyes. Behind glass Reid and Hotch shared a look before turning their attention back to the interrogation.

“Did you ever visit Y/N at work?”

“The library? No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t have the time to visit people most days,”

“Did you visit her after Christmas?”

“No!”

Prentiss sighed, leaning in towards Adeline, “I understand that you love her, you wanted to visit her. You gave her all those flowers on Valentine’s Day.”

“No, I didn’t! Valentine’s Day? I was at the hospital on Valentine’s Day, my daughter, that’s her birthday! I went to Heather Alexander’s stupid floral shop to get roses for her.”

“For your daughter?”

“Yes,” she stopped for a second and looked down at the table “She has leukemia, we, I mean I found out this December and she’s six. She’s six and she wanted her prince charming to come to the hospital with flowers. So I hired an entertainer and bought a shit ton of roses for her. Heather, she and I were never that close, but Y/N liked her, so she gave me a good deal on them and held them for me.”

Prentiss slid a photo, taken on Valentine’s Day, of your apartment covered head to toe in rose petals. Adeline let out a small sound, almost sounding impressed “So, her boyfriend or whatever was being romantic. Is that why I’m here?” She looked up at Prentiss.

“This past few months, Y/N learned she had a stalker, unfortunately, officials can’t step in till something happens. On Valentine’s day, Y/N came home to her apartment that had been covered with red rose petals. This past Saturday, Y/N was abducted from her apartment in Richmond.”

Adeline suddenly felt sick to her stomach, thinking about how her friend was missing and how she was just now finding out because she was a suspect. “I think I’m going to be sick.” She announced, standing up and running over to the bin in the room to vomit.

Prentiss shot a look over her shoulder towards the glass where the rest of her team was standing, unseen, they all knew that this wasn’t their unsub. Adeline was hunched over the trash bin as Prentiss brought her another cup of water. “Thank you so much for your time today, Adeline.”

***

The next day Heather was there in the morning to open up her shop, her smile was as bright as the sun as she flipped the lights on. People usually commented that everyone looks better when they smile, but the smile that Heather was wearing on her lips seemed more sinister. She was moving a hibiscus tree over when she decided that she wanted to go home. One of her other workers, Mac, was already there and she didn’t need to cover any shifts so she went home to her Catherine. When she entered the pink room, she watched your sleeping form from a chair near the bed, she wanted to leave you alone, she wanted to let you sleep but she couldn’t help it, you looked so damn beautiful, she just had to. She walked over to the bed, gently kissing your lips before she was inspired to lift your shirt and kiss your exposed stomach.

You woke up slowly, feeling something gently touch your stomach, you tried to ignore it and go back to sleep but when you moved to turn over, two hands squeezed your waist tightly. Your eyes shot open, sitting up as soon as you realized what was happening to you. “Heather!” you yelled in surprise, trying to scoot away from her, but she held you tight and you didn’t have enough energy at this point to fight back.

“Catherine,” she said your name with a smile before she kissed your exposed stomach lightly. You held back a scream and writhed around with disgust.

“Please I don’t want to,” you whimpered softly, trying to push her hands off of your waist.

“You don’t want to?” Heather scoffed, with a glare “Fine, I guess you don’t love me very much!” She snapped at you as she slid off of the bed, moving towards the dresser. You felt a sigh of relief escape your lips, happy that Heather’s hands were no longer touching you.

Heather pulled a small paring knife out of one of the drawers, walking back over to you as she watched your body tense. You made a move to roll over to the other side of the bed, but Heather grabbed you by your broken ankle, pulling you back to her. “You don’t love me?” she questioned as you let out a cry of pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You screamed as Heather moved to straddle you on the bed, trapping you as she held a knife close to your face. “No, no, please, I’m sorry,” The tiny knife was slashed against your bottom lip, your mouth filled with the taste of blood.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Emma, but sometimes you’re just so stupid!” Heather hissed, spit hitting your face as she traced your chest with the small knife, cutting into your shirt to expose the top of your breast. Heather smiled wide as an idea came to her, she put the tiny kitchen knife into action, carefully carving into your skin.

You trashed underneath her as you cried, painful hot tears falling from your eyes. Every time you would move Heather would snap at you “You’re ruining it, Jane!”

“I’m not Jane, I’m not Emma-”

“Yes, you are!” the blade went in deeper as she finished carving the letter ‘L’. “Hold still!” she screamed before she squeezed your cheeks together in a painfully tight way with her free hand. “Isn’t this better than loving me? Jane?” she let go of your face quickly, continuing with her work. Once she was done, she dropped the tiny knife on the bed with a smile. “Now there’s no hiding what you are, Slut!” she said with a twisted smile as her eyes met your terrified ones, she brought saliva to the surface of her tongue and spat in your face. After she did that she grabbed the bloody knife, got off of you, and headed for the door, locking you away once again.

As soon as the door shut you broke down sobbing, you wanted to scream but the painful cut on your lip made you think twice. You moved a hand up to your chest, feeling around the word carved into your chest, shaking. You laughed softly through your sobs, ‘Slut’, it made sense now. The stupid panties, Heather thought you were a whore. She hated that about you, but apparently, she was in love with you. After you had your emotional breakdown you stayed on the bed, unmoving, staring up at the ceiling as you bled onto the bed with spit on your face.

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lovebugcody · 4 years ago

Text

i can’t draw but i can write, so here is what i have for the mcyt/dream smp fandom. (inspired by a lot of fanart i have seen)

3k words baby. i was going to do a second half but i’m tired so i’ll write it tomorrow

anyway here is dadza collecting his boys

Philza had always known he wanted to be a dad, but with adventures and quests, he hardly had the time. So he made the difficult decision to wait until one day he had the time to properly care for and raise a child (or children) of his own. But circumstances and his own paternal instinct seemed to decide for him when was the perfect time for him to finally become a father.

The day he found his eldest, he was passing through an abandoned village. They were common in the parts of the world where Philza was known for exploring, which created a sad but beautiful landscape. Philza had always had an appreciation for the forgotten towns, so he made sure if and when he saw them, he travelled through. While he felt a touch of guilt when rummaging through items that were forgotten in a haste and deemed disposable, that never stopped him from opening every house and chest to find goods. There were occasions where he forgot a small home, or didn’t see a chest or two, but that day was not one. Philza was being careful and made sure to open every door.

A quiet shuffle and the tiniest whimper caught his attention, and he poked his head around the corner. Curled up, as small as he could, was a boy. Dressed in a dirtied, no-longer-yellow sweater, with a holey maroon beanie over long curls. He tried squeezing behind a chest next to him, and Philza could feel his heart break as the small boy started to cry.

“P-please, don’t h-hurt me.” His voice was tiny, broken, and one again Philza felt his chest tighten. This tiny thing couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5, and already looked terrified of the world. Philza quickly hid his sword in his pack, taking off his helmet to reveal his own hat and hair in need of cutting.

“It’s okay, little man. I promise I won’t. My name’s Philza.” He squatted down, and reached a hand out slowly. He quickly retracted it though when he remembered he had an apple in his bag. He swung his pack to be in front of him, unzipping it. “You hungry?” The small boy slowly looked up, wide and teary brown eyes watching as Philza moved to pull a bright red apple out. He nodded rapidly, curls falling out of the front of his beanie into his eyes. The boy crawled over to Philza, then sat cross-legged in front of him, patiently waiting for the apple. Philza let out a soft laugh, before handing him the apple.

“Thank you, Philza.” The words were muffled by the apple already in his mouth. Philza laughed again before dropping his own butt onto the ground, to mirror the boy.

“What’s your name, little man?” Philza had his own apple in hand, moving to bite into it.

“Wilbur.” The young boy looked proud as he said his name, promptly taking another bite of the apple.

“Well then, Wilbur,” the decision was made almost immediately, as soon as he saw the young boy really, “would you like to come adventure with me?” Wilbur visibly sat up straighter, excitement in his eyes.

“Hell yeah!” Apple was spat out as Wilbur scrambled to his feet in excitement.

It only took three months for Wilbur to start calling Phil “dad”.

---

His second child was under far more surprising and saddening circumstances.

An seven-year-old Wilbur bounced along in front of Philza, swinging his iron sword pretending to be defeating zombies. As he swung his sword, he once again recounted how he battled three zombies in the cave earlier that day.

“I know, Will. They were no match for you!” Philza laughed as he spoke, watching with unmatched joy and pride for his son.

“I’m the best monster fighter, dad!” Sword held above his hair, Wilbur spun to look at Philza. “I can even help you fight some zombie pig guys in the nether next time!”

“Pigmen, Will.” Wilbur rolled his eyes at the correction. “And we’ll see.” Punching their air and continuing to bounce forward, Wilbur didn’t notice the ruined step and tripped over it. Immediately, Philza rushed forward to catch his son.

A quiet pig-like snort caught their attention, and Philza, hand still holding Wilbur’s arm where he caught him, whipped his head around, other hand reaching for his sword. He had expected to see a pigman - maybe even a zombie one - to have somehow made it into the overworld and gotten lost, but instead saw a cardboard box. Scrawled across the front of the box in a dying sharpie was the word “FREAK!”. He pushed Wilbur, who was gripping his sword tightly in both hands, behind him as he took a careful step forward.

A tiny face popping up, giving both Philza and Wilbur a fright.

“Dad?” Wilbur’s voice was small, giving away his fear despite the confident aura he tried to portray.

“Stay here, okay?” Philza didn’t give Wilbur a change to reply before he continued to move closer to the box. The small child within the box stood up slowly, his features becoming more clear. The snout and ears were piglin in nature, but other than those and the pink complexion, it was clear to Philza that this was simply a scared child. Much like when he approached Wilbur those years ago, Philza moved slowly, crouching in front of the box and child contained within, peeking inside to see if there was anything else within it.

In the box, being stood on by the child, was a manilla folder. It looked as though at one point it had been official, but had been muddied and chewed on periodically. The small child looked up at Philza with tears in his eyes and hands gripping the side of the cardboard box with white knuckles. Philza noticed that one of his ears was stood up, the other - a yellow cattle-tag with the letters “TB” in faded black written on it was pierced through it - was hanging, exaggerated by the fact that the small boy had his head tilted to that side.

“Can you pass me that folder, bud?” The boy in the box blinked once before looking down at the folder. He squatted down and his stubby fingers picked up the dirtied paperwork. He stood slowly, then held it out proudly. “Thank you.” Philza smiled softly as he accepted the folder from the tiny boy. He sat in front of the box and carefully read over the words written on the cover. As he sat, Wilbur moved forward and sat next to him, watching the child carefully as he placed his sword next to him.

The top of the folder read “Experiment #14 [unreadable] -lin and human genetic cross- [unreadable]”, with a large red “failed” stamped across the middle of the entire cover. Philza glanced at the boy sadly. An experiment, a discarded experiment, that was all he was deemed to be. He shook his head in disapproval as he opened the folder. He didn’t want to read the majority of the papers within the folder, but he wanted to at least know how old this boy was and what name he had been given.

Technoblade. It was an odd name, undoubtedly, but if that was the name he was given, who was Philza to argue. He looked at the apparent birthdate, and quickly counted back in his head to calculate his age.

“Four?” The word was barely a breath, but Philza just could not believe that this tiny boy stranded in a box was only four years old. He had been experimented on, tested, and disposed, marked as a freak and a failure. He slammed the folder closed, turning to Wilbur. “What do you think?” Wilbur blinked, tilting his head.

“What?” He hadn’t looked away from Technoblade since the boy had poked his head out of the box, but he finally turned to look up at his dad.

“Think he could be your new brother? Come on adventures with us?” Just like when Philza had asked Wilbur if he himself wanted to travel with him, his whole body lit up with excitement.

“Really? That would be awesome.” He was bouncing again. Philza breathed a laugh at Wilbur, before turning back to look at Technoblade.

“What do you think, Technoblade?” He tilted his head the other way, glancing between Wilbur and Philza. “Want to come with us?” The tiny boy thought for a second before nodding, holding his hands up to Philza, indicating he wanted to be picked up. Philza happily obliged, moving to his feet and reaching down to the excited boy, who now had a huge smile that showed off tiny tusks growing from his bottom row of teeth. He placed Techno on his hip, offered a hand to Wilbur to help him stand, and the now-trio walked away from the broken cobble stairs.

As they walked away, Wilbur began to ramble about all the adventures he would have with his new brother, and telling him about all of the adventures past.

It took Technoblade a month to finally start talking to Philza and Wilbur, and only four more for him to start calling him ‘dad’.

---

Dealing with two teenagers was not something that Philza had ever prepared for. Granted he had not even planned for children, but instead found the two boys that now called him dad. This meant that, of course, he never had to mentally fortify himself for any of what he was dealing with.

Wilbur and Technoblade were constantly trying to fight mobs, and when there were no mobs, each other. Twelve and fifteen, and so much energy. Although Wilbur was slowly starting to lose that youthful energy that Techno still gripped on to. However, the day they found the third of Philza’s boys, he began to learn that some people are always fueled by a youthful energy.

Just as Philza always passed through villages old and new when he travelled alone, Techno and Wilbur had been taught to develop that same habit. Philza had sent them down the centre of the ruined village, going around the outskirts himself. He figured that while they had been travelling with him for a while, fighting mobs in the overworld and nether alike, it was better to be safe than sorry, and so decided on sending them off alone for the first time through an empty village would be best.

Philza skirted the village, picking up crops that had grown on their own and checking small buildings the excited boys would have no doubt skipped over. He knew that the two of them together would be looking for a fight, but would also keep each other safe. They had grown very attached to each other in the eight years they had been with Philza, referring to each other as brothers. It always warmed Philza’s heart when they called him ‘dad’ or each other as brother - they had bumped into a young man with a creeper mask on his own adventure a couple of years prior and Wilbur had introduced Techno as his little brother, a memory which still makes Philza smile.

He had made it to the centre of the village, trailing behind the boys, when he heard a scream. Less of a scream but more a shout of surprise, but Wilbur had an unfortunate voice crack in the middle of the cry and it sounded as if he had let out a short scream. Immediately, Philza sprinted towards the sound of his son’s voice, hoping that both were still together and alive. He skidded around a corner and paused.

The sight in front of him was rather amusing. A small boy with matted blonde hair and a formerly white and red shirt was blindly swinging a stone sword while shouting and swearing, while Techno had his iron sword held in front of him in both hands, and Wilbur had his by his own hanging limply by his side. Both of Philza’s sons were wearing very confused expressions.

“You aren’t stealing my shit!! Go away!” The small boy pushed the oversized helmet resting on his head back as it had slipped in front of his eyes. “This is my house!”

“Dude!” Technoblade attempted to calm the shouting child, but the boy was having none of it.

“Don’t ‘dude’ me. Go away!” Though amused, Philza decided it was probably time to step in between the children before someone actually started swinging a sword with the intent to seriously injure the other party. As he walked forward, Techno kept his eyes locked on the blond boy, but Wilbur turned to look at him.

“We didn’t do anything, dad. He just… jumped out at us screaming.” The boy on the steps finally turned to Philza, who was nodding in understanding at what Wilbur said.

“I know.” He stepped in front of Techno, after pushing his hands down, forcing him to lower the sword. “Hey bud. What’s your name?” The stone sword had finally stopped being wildly swung, but was still pointed (though it was clear that the boy was struggling with the weight of it).

“My name’s Tommy.” He finally gave up on holding up the sword. “What’s it to you old man?” Philza scoffed. This kid was ballsy and loud and needed somewhere to channel his energy. He took another step forward and slowly reached forward. Tommy’s grip on his sword tightened again, but even though he wouldn’t show it, his arms were clearly sore and exhausted from the wild swinging, so the sword remained with it’s tip pressed into the step. Hand on either side of the large helmet engulfing Tommy’s head, Philza lifted it up and tucked it under one arm, ruffling the blond locks with the other hand.

“Well, Tommy, my name is Philza and do you want to fight mobs with us and go adventuring?” Philza didn’t know for sure if this young boy was alone or not, but he was hanging out alone in a village ruin defending a tiny shack, so it was a safe assumption.

“Dad.” The ‘a’ sound was dragged out in an exaggerated groan from Techno. “Does he have t-” He was cut off but a ‘thwap’ sound that resulted from Wilbur smacking him upside the head.

“Shut up.” Wilbur hissed, hoping that for once Techno would listen.

“What? The kid tried to slice me!” Philza whipped his head around and glared at the boys, and they both quickly straightened, pretending to do nothing wrong. He turned back to look at the boy who was sticking his tongue out at Techno.

“Tommy?” Just like with Techno and Wilbur, Tommy straightened his posture and pretended to look at his feet. “Are you coming?” The boy held out his sword for Philza to take, which he did, before turning and racing inside. Sounds of rummaging came from behind the door, before Tommy reammerged, a much-too-large backpack strapped on.

“Let’s do this!”

In a matter of days, Tommy was calling out ‘dad’ to get Philza’s attention.

--- (original post that inspired this part) ---

Campsites had gotten harder to find with three boys. Each had developed their own ideas of “safe”, and none of them wanted to listen to Philza. The only solution was to allow them to take turns. Tommy had decided that forests were best, while Techno and Wilbur at least agreed that underground was safest. Unfortunately for the eldest pair, it was Tommy’s night to decide. So the four of them had to march through a thickly wooded area in search of a clearing for the night.

“Here!” It was barely a clearing, but it was enough space to pitch tents for the night. Tommy spun in a circle with his arms out wide after dropping his backpack, while Wilbur and Technoblade looked at each other.

“Alright, you three set up camp, I’ll check the area.” Philza dropped his bag beside Tommy’s and retrieved his sword, bow and quiver already over his shoulder. He knew that the boys would be safe, and trusted them to keep each other safe, so he had already turned his back and was already on the move.

“Don’t forget to call out if you find anything!” Techno’s voice echoed slightly in the empty area, and Philza waved his empty hand above his head, indicating that he heard and would do so.

Checking every possible hiding spot was important to do during the day, to make sure that there were no mobs during the day when they would burn that would later add to the number of mobs that night. Places like the hollowed out trunks of trees.

Philza had ducked into each as he moved and only saw the occasional spider, with one exception.

He had reached what he had decided was the last tree he would check, and bent down to duck his head inside, only to be met with a curled up figure with a faded yellow and grey striped sweatshirt. They had their arms wrapped around their knees and there was what looked like dried blood in their matted hair.

“Hey buddy.” The figure looked up, and Philza saw more dried blood on his face and sweatshirt. “Are you okay?” The boy shook his head.

“My dad…” His voice broke at the end, and his eyes began to water.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me.” Philza held out his hand, which the boy cautiously took. “What’s your name?” The young boy wiped his eyes with the end of his oversized sleeve.

“Tubbo.” He snuggled slightly and looked up at Philza with wide eyes.

“Well, Tubbo,” Philza still hadn’t let go of Tubbo’s hand, noticing that Tubbo simply adjusted his hand in Philza’s to hold it better, “do you want to come eat with my and my sons? I think my youngest is the same age as you.” The small boy wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. “I’m Philza, by the way.”

---

#mcyt #dream smp #char writes #tubbo #tubbo_#philza #ph1lza #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #technoblade #dadza #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc + co #dream smp headcannon #dream smp fic

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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

Text

the silence of the night // f.w

summary: for @wand3ringr0s3’s writing event!

prompts: “i knew it was too good to be true” x “i trusted you.”

warnings: angst, language, heartbreak, brief mentions of sex

word count: 3k

a/n: i am sorry for this. that is all. :) enjoy! xx

—

There’s a saying, an expression, that states that all things feel a thousand times worse in the silence of the night.

That once the sun goes down, your problems feel amplified, as well as your emotions. That you could spend the night crying yourself to sleep, feeling like you’re at your lower possible point, but the next morning you could be feeling fine. Puffy eyed and exhausted, but your worries and stresses would feel like they had less of a grasp on your life.

The point is, things were worse at night.

And you felt it completely.

Your home was eerily silent, not a single noise being echoed or carried throughout the rooms. The only sign that there was a person in here was that the telly was on. Muted, but on. The bright, smiling face of the newscaster lit up the room that you were sitting in, huddled on the couch with a blanket secured around your shivering body.

If this were seven months ago, you’d have Fred’s body next to yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you as the two of you laughed at a stupid film — which would usually result in the two of you falling asleep on the couch with your limbs tangled, if you were being honest.

If this were five months ago, Fred would have told you he didn’t mind what film the two of you watched, as long as the two of you got to spend the evening together. You’d finish the film and head off to bed, no cuddling and zoning out on the couch, but wrapped comfortably in your shared bed with comfortable silence.

If this were two months ago, you’d be sitting on the couch flipping through channels aimlessly, Fred working on paperwork next to you, eyebrows furrowed and muttering a quick ‘hm’ each time you’d point out something comedic to him on the screen. You two would go to sleep at different times, each bidding the other good night with a quick peck and facing opposite ways, an invisible barrier between you two, dividing the space that used to be shared.

If this were a month ago, you would be fast asleep on the couch, waiting up for Fred to come in through the front door. You’d wake up a few hours later, noticing his shoes and coat by the front door, and you’d walk into your room to sleep on the bed, Fred already rolled over and cocooned in his own blankets. You’d sigh, slightly defeated, and take your usual spot, the coldness of the sheets being a forceful reminder that things were different now.

But tonight, things were even worse. Like most days, Fred didn’t even come home. He’d stay at the flat above the shop so that when the morning came around and he needed to get back to work, he was already there. He used to send you a message, let you know that he wouldn’t be coming home that night and that you shouldn’t stay up and exhaust yourself over his arrival. But now, those messages had stopped.

There was a list of small things that had changed at first — how Fred would stop kissing your forehead during the night, how he stopped bringing home products for the two of you to goof around with — but those small things turned to major things.

For example, the last time he told you he loved you was a week ago. And even then, it was a half-assed ‘love you’ that he muttered before scurrying off to bed without his usual good night kiss.

Things like this swirled through your mind in the silence of the night. In the dark, empty rooms of a house once so filled with love, you swore it would burst.

But now, it was just that. Silent.

And it hurt more than you’d care to admit.

So, for the ninth night in a row, you trudged off to bed by yourself; no warmth, no company, no light. Just silence.

——

Mentally, there is no proper way to prepare for saying the six words that no one ever wants to say in a relationship.

‘I think we should break up.’

How does one come across at saying it without it being mean? Without it being accusatory, as if you know the other person is in the wrong and you want to cut them off? That wasn’t the case at all — you loved Fred more than you thought you could handle. You often wondered if it was even possible to love someone this much?

He was your soulmate. If you believed in that sort of thing, of course. You always thought he’d be the person you’d spend your life with, the person you’d end up growing old with as the two of you laughed about fond memories from when you were kids.

—

“You ever think about what life’ll be like when we’re old?” you asked, a strand of hair twirled between your fingers as you sat comfortably under the shade of a large tree, the soothing water from the Black Lake lapping gently at your bare ankles as you sat comfortably in the grass.

“I do,” Fred grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I reckon we’ll grow to be very old. Together, of course, and we’ll have a big house in the country where we can experiment with fireworks.”

You giggled, leaning back to peer up at him, “As long as you don’t blow up the house, then I don’t see a problem.”

He let out a laugh, “Course not. I am very well educated on how to handle fireworks, darling. Besides, we’ll have the kids helping out too so I really don’t see a problem.”

“Kids?” you spluttered, sitting up so fast your vision went dark for a good moment, “You think we’ll have kids?”

His smile faltered for just a second before he regained his composure, “Unless you don’t want any, I’d like one. Or three.”

“Three?” you raised your eyebrows, “You really have high expectations for everything, don’t you?”

He beamed, leaning back against the chipping bark of the tree with his hands behind his head, “Always have and always will, love. It’s why we work out so well. Because you really do exceed all expectations.”

—

The rain was heavy, so there were less people bustling about in Diagon Alley than usual. You were partially thankful for it since it meant you could just barge right into Weasleys Wizard Wheezes and do what you had to do, no delays and no detours. But it also meant that there was no chance you’d run into an old friend and spark up a conversation, delaying the one that you dreaded doing more so than anything in the world.

The bright purple and orange shop came into view, cutting the breath directly out of your lungs and causing the tips of your fingers to shake. The lights inside were bright, contrasted to the dark evening skies that were clouded above you. You knew they were shutting down for the day, the large ‘closed’ sign on the door being the dead giveaway.

You approached it as quickly as you could, your coat dripping heavily on the front steps as you knocked loudly on the glass door. You hoped it would be loud enough for them to hear over the downpour, but your worries went away quickly as George’s grinning face appeared at the door.

“Y/N? Blimey, it’s horrid out there, come on in,” George unlocked the door and ushered you inside, not even beginning to complain about how you were dripping all over the wooden floors. You knew he’d be able to clean it up with magic, but you expected a bit of protest anyway.

“Hi, George,” you sighed, removing the hood off of your head and taking your jacket off, hanging it up on the tiny hook by the door. It wasn’t a coat hook, but at the moment, you’d use it as one. George didn’t oppose.

“Where’s Fred?” you asked, voice laced with a hint of urgency. You felt it shake as you spoke, worry and unease spreading through your body at lightning speed. Now that you were here, you couldn’t back out. Nor did you want to.

“Uh,” George scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “He went out for drinks with a few of the other employees. He left about an hour ago so he shouldn’t be long now.”

You grit your teeth, heart hammering wildly in your chest, “Mind if I sit here and wait for him?”

“Be my guest,” George muttered, his body standing there as he was if unsure of what to do. You couldn’t blame him. You knew you were coming off quite odd and uncertain, but you wished that George would just leave you be as you sad there pondering about how to bring up the conversation.

He gave you a crooked smile, “I sense you want space so I’ll leave you be. G'night.”

“Thank you,” you gave him the best smile you could muster, “Good night, Georgie.”

He took off up the stairs, turning off a few lights on the way. You sat on the chair behind the counter, placing your hands in your lap and letting your eyes dart around the store, trying to find anything that could possibly distract you from the raging wave of emotions you were currently feeling. The store was dead silent, only a few lights that were left on and giving you the ability to see.

Here you were, once again. In the silent of the night — alone, waiting, and heartbroken.

Though that solemn silence didn’t last long as the familiar ginger head appeared at the door, unlocking it as quietly as possible before he rushed inside, running a hand through his wet hair to keep it out of his face.

You didn’t alert him of your presence, choosing to sit back quietly and let him notice your presence by himself. It didn’t take long for him to do so, turning around and stopping in his step completely as his eyes locked on yours.

The eyes that you had fallen so desperately in love with, the eyes that you had gotten lost in more times than you care to admit.

—

“You have gold in your eyes, y’know?” you grinned, running your hand along his face down to his neck, “They’re really beautiful.”

He grinned at you, placing his hand over yours and kissing the back of your knuckles lightly, moving his body closer to yours under the comfortably warm blankets, his bare skin pressed against yours as he continued scooting as close to you as he could, “As are you.”

“You flatter me, Fred Weasley,” you put your head against his chest to hide your blush, “But there’s no way you can deny that you have the best eyes.”

He chuckled, lifting one of his hands to run through your slightly messy hair, “Well, if I have the best eyes, you have the best everything else.”

“Oh, come on, it doesn’t work that way,” you pulled away from him, your voice shaky due to laughter, “You have the best lips, for sure.”

“Nuh uh,” Fred protested, shifting his body so he was now hovering slightly above you, both of his hands on either side of your face as he held himself up, “You’re definitely the winner in that category, darling. And I know just how to prove it.”

He leaned down, connecting his impossibly soft lips to yours, rendering your mind blank as you reached up to run your hands down his bare back, muscles tight under your touch as he deepened the kiss. Shivers spread throughout your body and you began to lose yourself in him completely.

—

You shook your head, clearing your mind of the memory, and stood up, “Hi, Fred.”

“Y/N,” he said lowly, walking quickly across the shop to the point where he reached you in under three seconds, “What are you doing here?”

You could see the confusion laced in his face and it stung more than you’d ever admit. The fact that he didn’t know why his girlfriend was here to see him after nearly two days burned a hole right through your heart. It stung more than the fact that after forty eight hours apart, all he could do was ask why you were here.

“We need to talk," you sighed, looking down at the ground and collecting your thoughts as best as you could before you faced him once more, “I think this—” you motioned between the two of you, “—I think that — wait, sorry, I knew that this was too good to be true.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

Fighting back a scoff, you waved your arms, “You can’t possibly tell me that you think this is going well, Fred. This is a train wreck. What happened?”

He took a deep breath, “I’m busy, Y/N. I’ve got work, I’ve got friends. I’ve got people other than you that require my attention too, you know?”

You ignored the burning feeling in your chest, “And I understand that. I know you have other things going on, I really do. But I am so sick of the distance. Of the fact that I wait up for hours, not even knowing if you’re coming home. That you don’t even bother letting me know if you’ll be in or not. That there’s this invisible wall between us that’s preventing us from going back to normal.”

The stinging sensation in the back of your throat and your eyes told you that tears had started to flow. You knew they would, but you hated the fact that they made you look so vulnerable.

“You’re seriously doing this?” Fred’s voice was small. Faint. More lost than you had ever heard it. In nearly six years of being together, you had barely ever fought or disagreed — the two of you were practically perfect. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever heard his voice sound like that.

“Fred, we can’t keep doing this to ourselves,” you breathed out, stepping closer to him, “You know, when we were young, we said we’d be together forever. And I really wanted that, believe me. You told me you’d love me forever and I trusted you because I felt the same. I thought you were it for me. But this isn’t what being in love is supposed to be like.”

His eyes met yours and you swore your lungs caved in on themselves. His eyes were watery and every inch of his face looked lost. His expression broke your heart all over again and you had to look away to prevent yourself from turning around and comforting him instead.

“I loved you more than anything, you know,” he said softly, coughing slightly to clear his throat, “Didn’t know why you picked a moronic git like me to go out with but I never complained. Always felt like the luckiest bloke at school.”

You stopped sniffling to listen to him as he continued.

“I genuinely thought you were my one. And I am so sorry that I haven’t been there. You’re right, this isn’t what love is supposed to be like. I didn’t want this to happen to us. I wanted us to stay, y’know, us.”

“I know,” you let out a small laugh, pulling a tissue out of your pocket to wipe at your eyes as you continued sniffing, “I wanted us to stay us too.”

You were nearly knocked off of your feet as Fred’s arms wrapped around you. His hug wasn’t like it usually was; bone crushing and tight. This time, it was soft and delicate — he knew it was the last time he’d be able to do this and the last thing he wanted was to break you more than you already were. Your heart connected to his, you could feel it pounding heavily under his sweater and you were nearly certain he could feel yours too. There’s no way he wouldn’t, considering how it was pounding so hard it was ripping itself to shreds.

You pulled away after a good moment, trying your best to remember how it felt to be embraced by him, how he smelled, and what being in love with him felt like. Because you were still very much in love with Fred Weasley, and no matter what happens, you know that’ll never change.

“I guess I’ll be by tomorrow to get my stuff,” he muttered, his voice coarse but he didn’t bother clearing it this time, “You know I’ll always love you.”

You gave him a weak smile, your cheeks glistening under the dim lights due to the tears still freely coming, “And I’ll always love you too. I’m sorry.”

He was silent, not able to bring himself to say much else. You took one last look at him, his freckled cheeks, his messy hair, and the baggy sweater on his body that you remembered wearing countless times. Not able to continue reminiscing, you walked towards the door of the shop, grabbing your coat and putting it on as slowly as possible, wishing that you could run back to him, into his arms, and take off together.

But that wasn’t happening. Not today.

“Goodbye, Freddie,” you said as you opened the door, not being able to look back at him. Your throat felt like it was closing in on itself as you took a deep gulp of fresh air, letting the door close loudly behind you. For fresh air, it was awfully suffocating. The air in the store was calling out to you, making you debate whether you should head back in.

But you shook your head and walked off of the front step.

The rain had stopped and the alley was dark. No bodies were running around and no lights were on. Though dark and quiet, nothing could match the hollow feeling that was etched into your chest. For your own sake, you wished that feeling was temporary, but at the moment it felt as if it would be permanent.

Because, after all, all things felt a thousand times worse in the silence of the night.

—

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justanotherfoolhere · 4 years ago

Text

I managed to write something for the KakaIru Valentine’s Week 2021!

Me: I want to write something. Maybe a double drable or a ficlet. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.

Also me: spends the whole day writing a 3k words one-shot. Ooops.

Anyway:

Title: Soulmates (I know, very original)

Rating: T (could be gen)

Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka

Wordcount: 3283

Tags: Kakairu Valentines Week 2021, Fluff, Light Angst, Soulmates, First Dates, Friends to Lovers

You can read on ao3 too!

Soulmarks appeared around six or seven years old. But it was not as exciting as one could imagine: as much as the tropes of 'first words they say to you', 'a cool mark where they first touch you' or even 'matching marks' or 'their favorite thing tattooed on your skin' were popular in books and films, the reality was far less thrilling.

Words appeared on your forearm, but not the first ones they would say to you. No. The words that appeared were the ones they would say the moment they realized they loved you. It didn't even have to be words they say to you. You could very well never get to hear the words yourself, if whoever your soulmate is realized it when by themselves.

All in all, soulmarks weren't that important. They were not reliable and, even if they were, they just made sense when your soulmate already loved you. Not that helping at all. Sure, children loved seeing the words and tracing their little fingers over them, and teachers took advantage of that to teach them proper spelling, reading, writing and calligraphy. Nothing made a kid work harder at writing something right than copying the words on their forearms over and over again.

Adults, on the other hand, mostly ignored them. Sure, some helpless romantics (cough, cough, Gai, cough) still clung to them like a lifeline, but most people just kept going about their lives and never seeking them out. Let life that its course and everything.

Kakashi avoided his like the plague.

It hadn't always been like this. As a child, he liked to daydream about his soulmate as much as his peers. Things got different when his father died though. Grief settling in, chilling his bones and washing away his childlike hopes. Things only got worse when his team died, when he saw Obito be crushed and failed on his only promise, failed to keep Rin safe. Then their sensei died too and he was alone.

He didn't deserve love. He didn't deserve a soulmate.

And a bitter and irrational part of him reminded him that everyone who loved him died. He'd be doing his soulmate a favor if he never met them.

People thought Kakashi was being stubborn or proud when he refused to go to the hospital after a dire mission. He wasn't. Well, not totally.

When he was a kid, the words on his forearm sounded odd yet funny.

Of course he'd try to shrug off a stab wound, the idiot.

Like, him? Getting stabbed then just walking away? Sure, little Kakashi knew first hand how a ninja's life could be rough, but the idea was so foreign and ridiculous. He'd never ignore something so drastic!

Also, it sounded like a funny thing to say when you love someone. Didn't sound affectionate at all.

He was glad for it when he grew up. Maybe his soulmate wouldn't be burdened with loving him (sure they would like Kakashi a bit, but maybe not love him). And maybe Kakashi wouldn't even be present to hear it, since the sentence wasn't adressing him.

�� Still, he didn't want to take any chances. So, since Kakashi can remember, he stitches up his own stab wounds. Avoiding getting stabbed also helped, but it was near impossible in fights with shurikens, kunais and the ocasional sword.

He figured whoever his soulmate was, they must work at a hospital or be a medical nin. So he avoided both. Seemed like the best course of action.

It was just another day. A common, boring day. Kakashi was waiting in line to hand in his mission form (he was still scribbling some things on it as he waited) and could barely wait to be done with it, so he could drop dead on bed. The last mission was a nasty one and he had barely washed the blood off his face before coming here.

Sure, he could procrastinate it, as he ever did, but now he had five old mission reports still blank and an increasingly annoyed Iruka who chewed him out for it. So he decided to drop the habit and actually hand in this one as soon as possible.

His whole tired body complained about this choice, though.

"I can't accept it," Iruka said with a thinly-concealed scowl.

"Why not?!"

"Well, for starters, you're still writing it," Iruka gestured to Kakashi still scribbling on the form, using the desk for support, "go home and rest a bit, Kakashi. You can give me the report tomorrow," wow, Kakashi thought, he should look really deplorable if Iruka missed the opportunity to reprimand him.

He didn't recall when Iruka went from calling him "jounin-san" to "Kakashi", maybe sometime between their quarrels about what an acceptable form was, but it always made his heart skip a beat. A silly little crush, but Kakashi allowed his heart this treat. It's not like he'd ever act on it anyway.

"Yeah, maybe I should," Kakashi concedes, too worn out to complain. A shame really, he wanted to see Iruka smiling at him for handing in a report in time for once.

He manages to walk away two steps before Iruka calls him again, scowl deepening and something too akin to concern on his voice.

"Kakashi, you're bleeding."

"Oh, that?" He look at the growing blood stain on his vest. It didn't seem too serious in the fight, and he could barely feel it over his generaly aching body, "yeah, I just came from the mission, I'll take a look at it at home," he smiled, trying to look reassuring despite the mask covering most of his face.

"Fine," there was a finality to his tone. Kakashi thought it'd be the end of the conversation.

Than Iruka called someone to cover for him and, in less than a minute, he was up and grabbing Kakashi by the hand.

Kakashi made a mental note that Iruka was fast and could move pretty silently when he wanted to. The blush on his face hidden by the mask.

"Uh, you don't have to—"

"I do," Iruka cut him with his best non-nonsense voice, "since you clearly can't be trusted to prioritize you own well-being, and I'm sick of watching it after every mission of yours."

He let Iruka half-guide half-drag him, not even bothering to keep track of where they were going until he sees himself being pulled inside Iruka's apartment.

"I know it's a mess," Iruka didn't sound apologetic in the slightest, "but it'll have to make do," he gestured for Kakashi to sit on the sofa, throwing some things on the floor to make space, and went to fetch a first-aid kit in the bathroom.

Kakashi took a moment to took everything in. The papers and books thrown everywhere, a few take-out packages littering the floor, the clothes scattered around. It was not dirty, just messy, which made sense with how much work Iruka had between teaching kids and scolding jounins. He probably didn't spend that much time here. Enough to make a mess, but not enough to tidy it properly.

Still, it felt homey. Warm and safe.

"Shirt off," Iruka came back, a serious expression, and motioned to his blood-soaked vest.

"Maa, sensei, at least pay me a dinner first," Kakashi joked, attempting to both lighten the mood and conceal his own nervousness. Iruka didn't seem impressed.

"Fine, fine," he took his shirt off, it landed with a wet thump on the floor.

Iruka's eyes widened for a sec before he recomposed himself.

"I can't believe you decided to wait on a line to hand me a half-written form after you got stabbed," Iruka sighed, pouring antiseptic on the wound without a warning, "whoever let you graduate in Academia is a moron. You have no sense of self-preservation. Or common sense," he admonished.

Kakashi winced at the sudden sting of antiseptic, but accepted the scolding. It was fair enough. Despite the harsh words, Iruka's hands were gentle when he started stitching him up.

"It was not really stabbing, just a tiny hit. With a kunai," He said nonchalant. Maybe Iruka would give it less importance if he did too, "I've had worse."

"I don't doubt it," Iruka didn't look at him, his eyes on the task, "And most people call 'a hit with a kunai' stabbing," he said wryly.

Ouch.

When Iruka was finished with the stitches, he put some ointment over the wound and dressed it. Kakashi insisted it was more fuss than it was worth.

"Just lie down and get some rest," Iruka sighed, "I'll fetch you some pillows and a blanket. Don't you dare getting up,"

"Really, you don't have to. I'm fine, I can go and sleep in my own house."

"I want to," and there it was, the finality to his voice that made clear not even the Hokage could get Kakashi out of that couch, "now stop being stubborn for a second and sleep."

Kakashi complied (what other choice did he have, really?) and Iruka made sure to get him comfortable, a pillow under his head, another one supporting his sore legs and a fluffy, warm blanked tucked snugly over him.

Kakashi was drifting off to sleep when he heard Iruka muttering to himself.

"Of course he'd try to shrug off a stab wound, the idiot."

Kakashi heart raced a bit, the too familiar words sounded weird now that he actually heard it. He'd have fled if he wasn't so comfortable and on the brink of sleep.

His last thought was that he was wrong about his soulmate not liking him that much. He'd never imagined someone could say "idiot" in such a fond, loving tone.

Kakashi's half-baked plan of avoiding Iruka didn't even have a chance to be properly formed. It'd be a nigh impossible task when he woke up on Iruka's sofa, covered in Iruka's blankets, inside Iruka's house and with a very nonchalant Iruka sat on the floor near him with a new take-out bag on his lap.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said, putting his food down, "Hungry? I bought some ramen."

"I— Ah," he said eloquently, "no, you shouldn't have bothered. I'll— I should head home now. Finish all that late reports and everything," he all but stumbled while trying to get up.

There was a faint, amused smile on Iruka's lips.

"That's okay, Kakashi, calm down," he handed him a bowl of ramen, "you can run away and never look at me again after you eat," his voice was even. It didn't sound like a joke nor a reprimand.

Kakashi accepted the chopsticks offered to him and they ate in silence. there was still a bundle of warm blankets on Kakashi's feet and the sofa was more inviting than it had a right to be.

Iruka didn't look bothered at all for the silence. His face was unreadable, as if he already expected it.

Wait—

"You knew!" Kakashi accused, pointing a finger at him.

"I knew what?" Iruka feigned inocence, then, when Kakashi grunted, added more serious, "yeah, I figured it out some time ago."

Kakashi was stunned by how lightly he said it.

"How long ago? Exactly?" He narrowed his eyes. Iruka put a hand on his neck, a nervous habit.

"Well... I kind of knew since we became sort-of-friends? But I just confirmed it some months ago," he tried to laugh it off, then extended his forearm to Kakashi's field of sight.

There, in neat letters, was written Maa, Iruka, I already said I'll finish the reports! No need for violence.

Kakashi kind of remembered this talk. It was so similar to all the others they had that it was hard to place exactly when this one took place. Iruka had rolled up a magazine and smacked Kakashi's nape with it, saying he would 'beat some sense of responsibility into him if he had to'.

"There are not a lot of people who never hand in their reports and are on a first-name basis with me," he explains, "the 'maa' narrowed it down a lot too."

"...I see," Kakashi was at a loss of words. So his soulmate wasn't a medical-nin like he thought, but a sensei with years of practice in patching up kids and adults alike.

"Yes. Well, I, uh," this was getting more awkward by the minute, "I'll go back to work now. you can take you time before you leave. Eat, take a shower... You can hand all your late reports to someone else later."

Iruka was already getting up to leave when Kakashi hastily grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! Are you leaving just like that? After telling me you knew I was your soulmate for months?"

"Well, I figured you didn't want a soulmate," He smiled, and there was no judgement there, "I wouldn't have told you, either. But, since, you know now, I guess it's okay if you want to put some distance between us," he motioned vaguely to the pillows Kakashi had knocked on the ground in his hurried attempt to leave.

Kakashi couldn't find a good enough answer, so he watched mutely as Iruka made his way to the door and closed it after him.

Days passed.

Kakashi thought it'd be fine. Iruka have handled everything so well. They hadn't sought each other out and, when they bumped into each other, Iruka was polite but distant. 'Kakashi' went back to 'jounin-san' or even 'Hatake-san'. He didn't act weird or sad either.

So why did it hurt so much?

Kakashi felt like he was missing something. Which made no sense whatsoever, because he and Iruka never were a thing to start with.

Iruka was right, he didn't want a soulmate. Never wanted one. The lingering thought that he would hurt whoever it was or that he didn't deserve any happiness present on his mind since he was a kid.

Yet there he was, hurting and wanting to go after him.

He's better off without me, Kakashi reminded himself once again.

It took Kakashi almost a month to put his finger in what exactly bothered him so much. He came to two conclusions.

One: Iruka was a good liar.

The scene of him leaving with a smile played again and again in Kakashi's mind, haunting his dreams and following him through the day. It hurt, like being rejected on repeat, nonstop. A cruel thing, really, like his mind enjoyed torturing itself.

But then he payed attention to details, like he should have done since the beginning. Like any good jounin would have done. Iruka left with a smile, and it looked real, but he wouldn't meet Kakashi's eyes. And his tone was too cheerful, as if he was trying to compensate for something.

Every time he bumped into Iruka (accidentally at first, deliberately later), he saw it. The hesitance, the too-happy smile, the eyes wandering around but never quite meeting his eyes. The lingering touches and the sad look on Iruka's face when he thought Kakashi wasn't looking.

Iruka lied to him when he said he was okay with parting ways. Lied when he said he understood Kakashi's wish, when he made it so easy to ignore everything and leave.

Two: Kakashi had grown up.

This one should be pretty obvious, yet it took him weeks of introspection to realize it. He had just... Grown up. Made peace with everything that happened. It still hurt, and he still caught himself sobbing after nightmares or feeling guilty, but he knew, deep down, that it was not his fault. And no one would die just for loving him. It was a childish idea.

He spent years pushing away the idea of a soulmate, but he couldn't picture Iruka dying because of him. He knew Iruka could stand his ground just fine and, even if he couldn't, Iruka was far better than him at reaching out for help.

And Kakashi deserved some love too. He blushed at the thought, but he knew he had to tell it more to himself. He deserved it. Iruka deserved it too, if he still wanted Kakashi after the shitty way he dealed with the situation.

Well, just one way to find out.

"Oh, hello, Kaka— Hatake-san," Iruka smiled at him, like he always did, that fake yet convincing one.

"Kakashi is fine, Iruka," Kakashi felt bold. Or at least maybe he would if he faked well enough, "I, uh, wanted to talk to you. In private. Mind if I pick you up after you're done working?"

"I—," was Kakashi delusional or was it a faint rosy blush on Iruka's cheeks? "Fine, you can pick me up here in two hours. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect!" He grinned and with the last of his bravery added, "it's a date then."

Iruka made a choking sound and Kakashi left with the goofiest smile.

Kakashi's place was different from Iruka's. Tidier, nothing out of place, but with a thin layer of dust on the less used things and too much free space. It wasn't as homey. Kakashi found himself missing the messy couch and thrown around clothes and books.

"So, let me set it straight," Iruka gave him a pointed look, "you decided you want a soulmate after trying to run away and pretending nothing happened for a month. And you want to take me on a date," He briefed.

Kakashi nodded, it seemed like an accurate description. He could unwrap all the insecurities and emotional baggage later.

"Fine," Iruka pressed the bridge of his nose, "took you long enough. I don't even know why I try to make sense of it."

"That easy?" Kakashi was a bit surprised, "I had prepared a speech and everything. Scribbled a half-decent poem," he threw some crumpled papers on the table. Iruka chuckled a bit.

Good. He wanted to see his genuine smile.

"If I wasn't willing to, I wouldn't have bothered to patch you up in the first place," He explained, "idiot," he said as an afterthough, but in the same fond tone he used before.

Kakashi found himself smiling too.

"Well, what about dinner tomorrow then? Anywhere you want."

"Oh, I have a better idea," the smile on Iruka's face was a bit devilish now, "just meet me at my place tomorrow. Let's say... At seven?"

"Deal," Kakashi really shouldn't have ignored the chill on his spine at the evil grin.

"That's your idea of a nice first date?" He whined, his wrist hurting from writing too much.

"That's your idea of good penmanship?" Iruka retorted, giving him yet another blank report to fill, "We are almost there! Just two more," he said a bit more encouragingly.

"We? What exactly are you doing?" He handed another complete and pristine form to Iruka.

"Moral support," he didn't miss the slight jest on Iruka's voice.

Accepting his fate, Kakashi sighed and prepared himself for a night of writing down mission details he just vaguely recalled whilst Iruka criticizes his calligraphy.

"Don't sulk like that. I have some ice cream in the fridge. We can have it after you're done," he used his slightly-less-stern teacher voice. The one he used to bribe the pests to finish their homework so they could play.

"My hand is killing me," Kakashi said with a dramatic flair, "you'll have to feed me, sweetheart," he mocked, making Iruka laugh at both the exaggerate whining and the sappy nickname.

"You're impossible," Iruka rolled his eyes, which, Kakashi noticed, was not a 'no', "Does it mean you'll go to the hospital now after being stabbed at least?"

"Never," he replied with a grin, "that's what I have you for now, right?"

The glare he received wasn't enough to spoil his sudden good mood.

It was fun to write! And can fit in three prompts! (soulmates, first date, friends to lovers). That bit was mostly accidental I swear! It just happened.

I don’t think i’ll try my hand on other prompts, but it was fun! That’s my first time in a writing challenge. Thanks for @kakairu-rocks for the funny prompts and for answering my questions!

Also, you can thank @kakairuincorrectquotes for single-handedly giving me the headcanon Kakashi will never, ever go to the hospital after being stabbed. You’ll have to pry it from my hands now!

Bye. ♥

#kakairu valentines 2021 #kakairu valentines week 2021 #kakairu #kakairu.rocks #my first time trying a challenge out!#yey

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johnismyreason · 5 years ago

Text

Every night and every morning // John Shelby x Female!Reader

Hi everyone ! First of all I really hope you and your family are all doing fine. This quarantine sucks but it is much needed ! Don’t worry it won’t last. I hope that this will give you a little bit of joy if you know what I mean 😏 This is one is a request from @enjoy-the-destruction asking: “Wondering if you would do a smut based around the same time as Peaky and John manages to make the reader squirt for the first time? 🤞☺️ As many words as you like, as smutty as you like. You know I love your style 🥰” Thank you again girl for the request ! I had fun writing this piece :)

Words: 3k wtf ?

Warnings: smutty smut smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirt, fluff, tiny bit of angst, bad English because your girl is French

YOU MUST BE 18+ TO READ THIS

It was such a good night. You hadn't shared one like this with John in a long time. He was always here and there, dealing with some “serious business��, as he always says, with his brothers. The rare evenings you spent together were usually late nights actually, when he’s done with his family. You always come second, and it started to really bother you.

“John, it’s 2 in the morning, what the hell are you doing here ?” you yawned, annoyed he made you get up from you bed.

“I just wanted to see my favourite girl” he grinned trying to step in your apartment. He frowned when he realised you’re not letting him in. “What’s going on ?”

“I’m working early tomorrow and I’m tired.” you stomped clearly wishing for this conversation to end so you can go back to sleep.

“It’s alright love, I can just lay in your bed with you, we’re not forced to make love.” he caressed your cheek but you moved your head to let his hand fall.

“I’m not just tired physically, John” you sighed. “I’m tired mentally because I always come second. You come see me only when you are done with your family and your job. I’m never your number one priority. Never. You knock on my door in the middle of the night, waking me up and expect me to let you in so you can have your fuck and leave in the early morning. And I’m dumb because I always let you in, because I love you.” You were whispering so fast to not wake the whole building up, that you were out of breath. Also because your heart was beating so fast. You didn’t know if it was because you were angry or because it was simply John who had this effect on you everytime you see him. Maybe a little bit of both.

John was caught out of surprise. He didn’t know you were feeling like this. “Love, you’re not my second priority. You’re my family you’re-”

“Am I now ?” you cut him on the verge of crying. He saw your eyes glistening because of the tears that were threatening to fall, so he cupped your face with his reassuring hands.

“Of course. Look, I am so sorry if I made you feel like you were not important to me. You’re the most precious thing I have in my life. I’m so sorry, please, Y/N let me make it up, I-” you broke free from his grip, letting a tear run down his fingers as you go.

“You should go.” you just said, avoiding his eyes.

“Y/N, love” he tried to reach for you again, but you stepped back.

“Go.” you choked a sob. He tried to catch your eyes one last time before going. You closed the door and heard his footsteps go down the stairs.

The next day you got prepared for work. You hated being late so you always make sure to wake up early enough to have all the time you need. Everything was calculated. You grabbed your bag and opened the door only to see John standing outside your apartment. You jumped out of surprise.

“Jesus !” you gasped, a hand on your chest. “John…” he had a big smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers, your favourite, in his hands.

“I’m sorry, love, I didn’t want to scare you I was about to knock on the door”

“What are you doing here ?” you asked, still happy to see him even after last night.

He handed you the flowers and you tried your hardest to hide your smile. “I want to take you out tonight. Just us. At a regular hour of the evening.” You puffed a shy laugh. “Like before. Please, Y/N, say yes.” You looked at him and couldn’t resist to his beautiful blue eyes.

“Alright.” you ceded. John breathed again, a relieved smile spread on his face. He kissed you hard, crushing the flowers between your bodies.

“Mmm John ! The flowers !” you said your lips squeezed on his. You both laughed as he let you go put them in a vase. When you come back, John grabbed you by the hips and kissed you. Again and again, until you broke it.

“John, I’m going to be late for wo-” he cut you with another kiss making you forget what you were saying.

“Who cares about work, love ?” he mumbled against your rosy lips.

“Well I do, and I’m surprised to hear you say that” you responded taping his shoulder playfully. He rolled his eyes amused and let you go.

“Lemme walk you there, eh ?” he proposed caressing your cheek with his thumb. You smiled brightly and nodded, closing the door behind you.

When you walk outside, John automatically took your hand. Gosh, you missed him. And he missed you too. Everything looked so normal. You and him, walking hand in hand in the streets, goofing around, like a normal couple. Almost normal. He described you what he is going to be up to today and that was what brung you back to almost normal. You didn’t really like his “family business”, always worried he wouldn’t come back from it. But he does, so you try to not think a lot about it. You arrived at the clothing shop you’re working to. John spun you around so that your chest meets his. You giggled looking at him and his goofiness.

“I see you tonight, huh ?” he says with a smirk and a velvet voice, giving you chills. You nodded biting your lips and kissed him softly but he deepened it. You chuckled and let him go, pushing him away slightly. “Seven o’clock” he reminded you pointing his fingers and walking backwards.

“I know ! Leave now” you chuckled before entering the shop.

At seven o’clock sharp, John knocked on your door. He didn’t want to let one minute slips away of this night with you. The draught from the doorway when you opened it took with it your perfume that intoxicated John. He discovered you in a lavender dress, hair in its natural state with a hair clip on the side, the one he offered you for your last birthday. You were breathtaking and he was speechless.

“Love, you are…” he tried to find compliments but all of them were not enough to describe you. You smiled, feeling your cheeks becoming rosy.

“It’s a dress from the new collection at the shop. Thought I’d might buy it for our date. Do you like it ?” you asked shyly. He took your hand to make you twirl so he can take an overall look.

“You look like heaven, Y/N. I can’t believe you're my girl” he pulled you against his chest to place a chaste kiss on your forehead before adding one more passionate on your lips. He locked his eyes on yours, remembering every color nuances they have. “Let’s go ?” you nodded and followed him to his car which he opened for you and helped you climb in.

It was such a good night. You had dinner in this new fancy and very romantic restaurant in town, laughing, sharing everything you two missed from the other, drinking wine. You hadn’t have a night like this in a long time. Since your fourth date actually, and you’ve been together for two years now. John offered you to leave the restaurant and ending the night at his house, which you agreed.

You both stumbled in his house, laughing too hard on a joke John made. You took off your coats and laughed some more making your way to the living room. He walked towards you, catching you in his arms to steady you. You tried to catch your breath back when he cupped your delicate face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. He stared at you so lovingly, your heart stopped for a moment.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry you thought you were not important to me. I should have said no to Tommy when he called me. Spend more time with you, showing you how much I can’t live without you. I’m sorry, love.” He brushed away a strand of hair behind your ear. “I promise I will make things change to be with you more often. Every night and every morning, actually”.

Your heart sped up to his oath. “Really ?” you searched for a lie in his eyes but you didn’t find it.

“Really.” He kissed you softly and then more intensely, sliding his large hands to your waist and hips. You whined at his touch and felt your heat rising. John groaned when your fingers scrapped his hairless scalp. “Let me show you how much important you are to me, love, ‘right ?” you kissed him in response and let him lead the movements.

He lifted you in his muscular arms that always make you feel safe and protected, and climbed the stairs to the bedroom, while you explored his neck with your lips. He then put your feet back on the ground once you reached the room, at the bottom of the bed. Catching your lips with his, he started to undress you. His fingers were soft, never failing to give you chills, unbuttoning the back of your dress. When he flipped the last one, you slipped your hand under the sleeve on your shoulder to help him take it off.

“Don’t.” he stopped you, breaking the kiss. “Let me undress you. Let me make you feel good. Please” his last word expelled in a sigh, almost like a pray. You removed your hand to let him have full access to your body. He picked up his kiss from where he'd left it and he made your dress flow over your skin like a river, living you in only your undergarments. They were white and delicate. As soon as he put his eyes on you, he imagined what your wedding night would look like.

“Sweetheart…” he attempted to say something but he words died on lips when you connected yours. “You want to take off my clothes ?” he suggested.

“Yes…” you whispered. You started with his vest throwing it away in a hurry.

“Easy, naughty girl” he chuckled, “Take your time, we’ve got all night”. You took a deep breath and forced your movements to slow down.

You unbuttoned his dress shirt and caressed his torso, feeling every inch of his hot skin, from his V-line to his chest and shoulders, finally resting your hands on the back of his neck, pulling him towards you to kiss him. When your mouths played together, that’s when you decided to take off his shirt fully exposing his upper body. Oh how you loved this part of his body. Toned, broad, warm, freckles all over. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. You trailed small and wet kisses all over his chest, shoulders, arms and abs, before unfasten his belt and his pants button. Your delicate fingers grazing his lower belly skin gave him an electric discharge of desire that he restrained his hardest with a grunt.

“Fuck… Y/N… How do you do to always drive me crazy ?” you gave him an innocent look in response confirming his question. You pushed his pants and underpants all the way to his ankles. When you got up you made sure that your lower lip leave an unholy wet trail along his shaft making him lose his mind. “Oooh…” he exhaled in a groan “Y/N… You don’t fucking know what you’re up to”. And how true was that.

John took your legs and wrapped them around him to make you both fall on the bed. He was eager almost hungry. Kissing every bit of your skin while taking off your bra, biting your nipples, sucking hickeys, making you moaning mess. You felt hot spots growing everywhere he put his lips on your body.

“You sound like an angel, baby” you moaned again “Look at you, so fucking beautiful” he guided his hand from your breast to your lower belly, stopping right above your pulsating clit.

“John, please…”

“What do you want, love ?” he whispered in your ear sending shivers on your scalp. “Is it my fingers ? Or my mouth ?” he teased.

“Mmm both ! John baby, I want both…” you begged.

“As you wish” he said in a raspy voice, before sliding in your panties and between your pussy lips. His long middle finger spread your arousal on your folds and started to circle your clit. He aligned his mouth with your cunt, you moaned feeling his hot breath against it. He removed his finger from your clit and placed his tongue instead.

“John…” you whined “I said I want both” you pleaded. He introduced one finger in your pussy travelling back and forth.

“Is it better, love” he hummed against your clit.

“Mmm, two fingers p-please..” he added the second finger earning from you a loud gasp when they hit your sweet spot. “Fuck John, it’s so amazing, gosh…” He kept his work with his tongue and fingers, giving you all the pleasure you need. John knew when you were close by the way you were breathing and moaning, that’s why when your breathing was more jerky and you whines louders, he accelerated his pace.

“Come on baby girl, cum for me. First orgasm of the night, there's more to come. Cum all over my tongue and fingers like the good girl that you are” his words stimulated you and you came undone on his now puffed lips and soaked fingers, screaming his name.

You tried to catch back your breath but John decided you had enough time off. He kissed you so you can taste yourself “Taste fantastic honey, huh ? Always so fucking delicious for me” he mumbled against your neck. You felt his hard cock against your sensitive core, playing unintentionally with your clit. John grabbed it and pushed it in you, both of you moaning and grunting.

“John, oh god ! Please…”

“You want me to move, darling ? Want me to fuck you ?” he groaned above your lips. You pathetically nodded wanting him more than ever. He started his pace slow but not for long. He also wanted you desperately. He moved faster and faster until you both reached your high.

“Jo-John, fuck ! I’m gonna cummm…” you fought to say, your legs around him and your nails scratching his back trying to hold onto something, making him go even crazier.

“Gotcha baby doll… cum for me eh ? Please cum for me, ffffuck your pussy is unbelievable !” his thrusts were rougher more animalistic, giving you your second orgasm of the night. You screamed his name, lost in curse words. However John didn’t stop, chasing his own release.

“Gonna help me cum, love ? Huh ?” he locked your nipple between his lips feeling your soft skin on his mouthfeel and tongue. To help him cum, he quickly changed positions, pounding you from behind you on all four, or on your back legs up, on your stomach face down.

He switched one last time the position, on your back your legs spread and his hands holding your knees. “I want to see your beautiful face, Y/N. Want to see how much I make you feel good when I’m fucking hard that pretty pussy of yours” you couldn’t respond, it was impossible, not when he was pounding into you this good.

“Fuck, you’re the best thing I have Y/N love… The best fucking thing…” he was grunting so loud like a beast. You felt a knot in your stomach but this one was different from the others. It was more intense, like a fire ball burning inside of you. You rolled your eyes back, mouth open wide, and let your orgasm wash over you, in the same time than John’s. You shot your eyes open when you felt your body producing something you never did before. You squirted. All over John’s torso. You're inhaling heavily not understanding what just happened. You looked at John’s face who had the biggest grin and proud look on his face.

“Wh-what… Honey, I’m sorry, I don’t know-” you stuttered embarrassed, trying to wipe your ejaculation off of his body. He took your small wrist in his big hand to stop you.

“Well baby girl, I can assure you that I’m gonna be way more often at home now that I know how to make you squirt” he smirked pulling you closer to him to kiss you delicately. “Come on love, gotta clean up” he whispered softly. The John who was bestial two minutes ago was now the most gentle being on earth. He actually was like this most of the time with you.

“I-I can’t… my legs…” he smiled to you and left the bed to go the bathroom to take a wet towel. He delicately removed all traces of what had just happened off of your body, kissing you here and there to relax you, before doing the same on him. He threw the towel away and laid next to you, embracing you his arms. He waited to hear your soft and regular respirations signaling him that you were sleeping before letting himself rest.

The next morning, you woke up before him, in the exact same position that you fell asleep the previous night. You moved a little to admire him. He looked so peaceful and divine. Your heart beating faster at the thought of seeing him like this more often now. John felt your glare on him and opened slowly his eyes.

“Good morning, love” he whispered in a smile and pecked your lips.

Yes, you really could get used to this.

#John Shelby #John Shelby x reader #Joe Cole #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby smut #john shelby x reader smut #john shelby one shot #peaky linders request #smut

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nintendousimp · 4 years ago

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Train of Thought...

Part: 5 I think I’m in love?

Previous👈 Master 👉 Next

Word Count: 3k

Released Date: February 26th, 2021

Warnings: NSFW, nothing too crazy maybe some language and grammar errors. It might get a little angst 😅.

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are aged up!

Authors note: I’m sorry this part has been so delayed! The last few weeks have been a chaotic mess. I’m so sorry it took so long to get this released, but I’m super excited because this is the end (not counting epilogue) I really enjoyed making this story and I hope you guys enjoyed as much as I did writing it.

Enjoy the last past part of this story!!!

It’s been almost a year since you saw your ex-best friend. To be completely honest, you still can’t get it over your head that this happened. It seems like a thing of the past now. All those memories the two of you made together now have a bittersweet taste to them. It’s strange to think that this would be the outcome of something you thought would never end. In the end, life goes on.

In an attempt to make amends, you decide that it’s been long enough, and you’d like to hear her side of the story.

You get in your car and drive to your old friends’ place. To your surprise, she still lived in the same apartment complex. You enter the complex and make your way towards the elevator. As you press the number to her floor, you can’t help but be nervous. It’s been a while since the two of you talked, let alone seen each other. There’s so much you’d like to know, but you mainly wanted closure from her as well. You were deep in thought when the elevator opening brought you back to reality.

You get off the elevator and head towards the direction of your friend’s home; you stop at the door. You stood there, hand on the doorbell but couldn’t press it. You didn’t know why you couldn’t ring the doorbell. Part of you was afraid She and Tsumu’s stories weren’t going to match, but another part was asking itself why you were so worried about this when you’ve moved on.

You know deep down that what you're feeling are your insecurities. The pain that both she and Atsumu put you through made you insecure about your person. There were mornings where you’d get up and head straight for the mirror that’s hanging on your bedroom door, and you’d look at yourself. At the time, you hated how you looked and even began to compare yourself to said best friend. She had long hair, so you started growing your hair long. She was more girly, so you began buying more feminine clothes. You did little things to change your appearance. You started wearing makeup and went out drinking. Doing all of those things never made you happy. Part of you was trying to fill in for the pain you were feeling, something you hadn’t noticed, but someone else did.

Flashback...

That morning while you were getting ready, Akaashi had stopped by your home. It was nothing new to him since the two of you became insanely close; one could say you both are best friends. You had given him and Bokuto a house key since they both spent most of their free time in your home. As he enters your home, he can hear you in your bedroom drying your hair. He makes his way to the door of your bedroom and just stands there in silence, watching you get ready for the day. He can’t help to think how beautiful you are, even if you changing yourself saddened him.

You notice him resting his back onto the doorframe. “How long have you been standing there?” you ask.

“Not too long, I just got here,” he says.

“ I’m glad you’re here, help me pick out an outfit for the day!” you said to Akaashi as you take his hand and drag him to sit on the bed.

“Which one of these outfits do you think would look better?” you ask.

“What’s the occasion?” He asks.

“I’m going to go meet up with an old friend,” you said. Trying not to go into detail about what friend you were going to go meet up with.

Akaashi’s looking at the two outfits you picked and then looked back at you.

“y/n anything would look great on you, but if you want my input, I think you look beautiful when you are yourself,” He says.

Something about the way he looks at you brings warmth to your heart. The way he stares at you with those pretty blue eyes can bring comfort to your troubled mind. You’ve been trying to change the way you look, to hide the insecurities that were planted deep in the back of your mind. But Akaashi, with one look, took all those negative thoughts away. You don’t understand what these feelings are. But being with Keiji makes you feel at home.

End Flashback…

You rang the doorbell and waited a few moments.

“What are you doing here y/n?” she asks.

“I’m here to hear your side of the story,” you said. Your old friend stood there, not knowing what to say. It’s been a year since she last saw you. She couldn’t believe that you were here at her front door, wanting to hear her side.

“Can I please come in?” you ask.

“We can talk in the living room,” your friend says as she points you to the living area.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asks.

“Thank you, but I’m okay,” you said as you sat on the corner sofa.

It’s clear to both of you that this meeting is going to be an awkward one. It was hard to confront Atsumu about his infidelity, but now you want to hear how this all started.

“ I want to know why Atsumu cheated on me with you,” you said. At one point, you would’ve been in pain to hear the truth, but it’s been too long that now you just want to end this chapter of your life for good.

“It happened when you started writing your first book. You began spending nights at work,” your friend continued to tell you how one evening she came over to your house and found Atsumu drinking. She said they drank together and talked about how he felt like you no longer spent time with him and that the only thing you cared about was work.

“ One drink led to another, and before we knew it, we were both making out,” she said as she proceeded to tell you that she and Atsumu were supposed to be a one-time thing. Still, they both became dependent on each other.

“ He told me he never cared about me the way he cares about you and never to get any ideas about him ever leaving you,” She finally finished.

So they’re both telling you the truth. To finally hear both sides of the same story made you feel like you can yet breathe again. But there was still one question that kept plaguing your head, so you decide to ask her.

“ Why did you keep going back if you knew what you were doing was wrong?” She didn’t look at you; instead, she pointed her head towards the ground and said.

“ I fell in love with Atsumu; that’s why I kept going back.”

Your best friend fell in love with your ex-husband. Part of you was not expecting that answer. You can’t help but believe her; There’s sincerity in her words. Her expression gave sadness.

“The day you found out about us. I not only lost you as my friend, but I also lost Atsumu.”she continued by saying that Atsumu broke things up with her as soon as you left the house. To think that day, all three of you lost someone important. You’re glad that you’ll finally be able to close this chapter. To finally be able to move on is a breath of fresh air.

“ I don’t think we can ever go back to the way it was, but for what it’s worth, I forgive you, old friend,” you get up from the sofa and head towards the door to take your leave. You thank her for having you in her home. Before you were about to leave, you looked at your friend and gave her a warm smile.

“You should let Atsumu know he’s a father.”

“How did you,” you cut her off.

“ Bokuto saw you at the cafe we used to go to. Don’t worry; Kou promised he wouldn’t mention anything to Atsumu. But should tell him. I know him too well. He wouldn’t live with himself if he has a kid and didn’t take responsibility for it,” you said as you waved goodbye and left your friends’ home.

There were tears in your eyes as you were heading out of the complex. You’ve known for a couple of weeks that Atsumu has a child. Who would’ve thought that the pain they both put you through would grow into a fruit that is Atsumu’s child?

“ I hope that you’re a good father to your son Tsumu,” You whisper to yourself.

...

You get in your car to make your way home. As you buckle your seat belt, you get a call from Keiji.

“Hey Keiji, I just got done with my friend. What’s up?” you said.

“ Would it be okay if I take you somewhere tonight?” He asks.

“ Of course! Can I ask where you’re taking me?” Akaashi said he wouldn’t go into details about where he was taking me out of fear that he’d ruin the surprise for me.

“Would seven o’clock work for tonight?” he asks.

“Yes, seven o’clock is fine,” you said.

“ I’ll see you at seven then y/n,” he says his goodbyes before he hangs up.

“What are you planning, Keiji?” you say to yourself as you head back home.

…

Evening time came faster than you would’ve anticipated. You didn’t know why you were so nervous. You’ve gone out with Keiji before. So why does this feel different from the previous times? “What is this I’m feeling for you, Akaashi?”You say as you finish getting ready. You’re gathering your things when you hear the front door open.

You look back and notice Keiji.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

You nod as you grab your jacket and your purse.

…

On the way to this secret location Akaashi spoke of. Neither one of you spoke during the entire car ride. There was this one time you glanced at him and noticed his face was a blushed red. Was he nervous? Trying not to overthink this, you go back to look at the buildings that passed as Keiji drove you guys to this secret destination.

You didn’t know how long you stared at the buildings passing by. It must’ve been a while because before you knew it, you passed out. Akaashi noticed you were asleep from his side view. Even in your sleepy state, you look so beautiful to him. Trying not to scare your tired self, Keiji gently rubs your shoulder to wake you up.

“Wake up, sleepyhead were here,” Keiji says.

“ I don’t remember falling asleep,” you say while rubbing the back of your neck.

“Must’ve been tired y/n,” He says.

You removed your seat belt and got out of the car. From a distance, you notice the ocean. Akaashi made his way to you with a picnic basket and a blanket at hand.

“Ready to go?” he says.

You nod and take the blanket that was on top of the basket. It doesn’t take too long to find a place to set up this picnic. You put the blanket on the ground as Akaashi takes out the fresh onigiris along with two cups and a bottle of sake. You thank him for the food as you grab an onigiri and take a massive bite out of it.

“Hungry much?” Akaashi says while smiling at you.

“Very, I forgot to eat lunch today,” you said as you sip on the sake that’s in your cup.

“I went to see bff/n today,” you whispered while you gulped sake from your cup.

“Bokuto was right; she was pregnant and didn’t deny the baby being Atsumu’s.” You look up from your cup to take the ocean view. There was a time when you and Atsumu had tried to conceive but never succeeded. All hope shattered when your gynecologist told you that you’d never be able to become pregnant. Tears began running down your face. The pain and the reminder that you’ll never have children still lingers in your heart.

“I envy bff/n,” you said while you continued with.

“ I hate that she became someone I never will be.” you pour more sake into your cup; instead of taking sips like you were doing, you decide to chug the whole cup in one go.

Akaashi removes the distance between the both of you. He pulls you in his arms and holds you there while you begin to cry. Having him embrace you in his arms brought a comfort you thought you only felt with Atsumu. Being with Keiji gave you a sense of peace, something your mind would not let you feel when you were alone. He can quickly shut down all those negative thoughts that plagued your head.

Spending your time with Akaashi became a routine. At first, you’d only hang out with him and Bokuto so you wouldn’t be left alone with your thoughts, but as time flew by, you began to look forward to seeing Keiji the next day. Every day began and ended with him. You hated when you had to say goodbye, you couldn’t stand a minute without wanting his presence around you. You were so accustomed to having him around that it felt strange when the two of you weren’t together.

Were you really that oblivious towards your feelings for Akaashi? Why did it take you so long to figure out that what you’re feeling for Keiji is more than just friends? Feelings you thought you’d never feel again came right back when he made eye contact with you. Those blue eyes are like portals to another dimension. It’s so easy to get lost in them, especially when they stare at you in adoration, waiting to worship your every move. You wanted nothing more than to look into Keiji’s eyes for the rest of your life.

“I think I’m in love,” you said in a whisper, loud enough for Akaashi to hear.

“ You think you’re in love?” Akaashi asks.

“Yes,” you said as you made contact with him once again.

Akaashi’s mood shifted when he heard that you were in love. You never mentioned seeing anyone. You spent most of your time with him. It hurt him to think he’s going to lose you. Tonight was the night he was finally going to confess his feelings for you. He’s been in love with you for a long time, but making you happy came above all, and that includes his feelings for you.

“I’m happy for you, y/n. When do I get to meet them?” Keiji says as he gives you a sad smile.

“Them?” you said in a confused tone.

“Yes, when do I get to meet this person you fell in love with?” He says.

You can’t help but burst out laughing. You thought Keiji caught on to you confessing to him, but instead, he thinks you love someone else. Keiji was confused as to why you were laughing.

“What is so funny?” He asks.

You try to calm your laughter as you sit up and adjust yourself to look at Akaashi.

“Keiji, you didn’t let me finish my sentence,” you continued by saying.

“ What I meant to say was that I think I’m in love with you.”

He never thought in a million years that the woman he fell in love with months ago would reciprocate his feelings back. There are tears in his eyes as he stared into your own. He’s speechless. Keiji can’t get a word to come out of his mouth.

“Keiji, Are you okay,” you ask in a worried tone.

He doesn’t say anything; instead, he pulls you in for a kiss. Keiji’s lips were soft and tasted sweet even though he had been drinking sake. Ever the gentleman, the kiss was slow yet passionate. His mouth was trying to show you what his words couldn’t say. It’s like he wanted you to know that he felt the same way with each kiss he planted on your neck. You don’t want these moments to end, but your lungs betray you from the lack of oxygen they have been deprived of.

You pull away to look back at Akaashi. His hand rested on top of yours while the other was caressing your cold face. He promised to himself that he’d never take you for granted, and he’d become a man worthy of you. As you both look into the night sky, Keiji thanked whoever was out there in the universe, for allowing him to make you happy.

He takes his eyes off the night sky to focus on you. Your eyes shine brighter than the illuminated sky. The sparkle in your eyes could make the stars jealous. He knew how he felt and he had to tell you, so he spoke up and said.

“Hey,y/n?”

“Yes, Keiji.”

“I’m in love with you.”

...

That’s all for now folks!! Just kidding! I’ll be writing the epilogue soon. For now I’m taking a break from this story to work on a new one! Thank you so much all for taking your time of day to read my story!

Summary:

L/N F/N a young adult working on their first ever book with the help of editor and friend (Akaashi). Discovers that their husband has been cheating on them for the past few months that they’ve been working nonstop. Heartbroken y/n decides to drown herself in their work. Will they be able to Forgive their cheating husband from his infidelity or will they approach the man who fell in love with them while working on their book?

Characters belong to the Haruichi Furudate.

taglist: @h0wab0utw3d0ntd0that, @brnda7rdrgz , @tsukkiswifeey,

#haikyuu #anime #akaashi fanfiction #akaashixreader #atsumu angst #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu fic #haikyuu!!

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i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend · 4 years ago

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Carnival of Hearts (Part 1/6) ~ Bucky x Reader College!AU

A/N: Hello my lovelies! I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe. I’m here with a new series because I have no self control. If you’ve been here for a while then you know this is my typical behavior but if you’re new my apologies. Good news, I do have specific plans on what I’m tackling, so hopefully things will happen soon. But I do have a lot of (good thankfully) things going on in my family life so it’s a bit chaotic.

This is my entry for @buckysknifecollection ‘s 3k Follower Challenge. Congrats on the milestone lovely! Go check out the blog. Personal fave is Hush (a must read if you’re into soft!Biker!Bucky)

Prompt: Our friends set us up on this carnival date but we’re both pining after someone else and this a bit awkward

Summary: When you’re set up on a carnival date with Bucky Barnes NOTHING turns out the way you expected.

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1074

“I have found you the perfect guy,” Nat announced as she flounced into your room.

“Oh joy, oh happy day. I shan’t die unwed,” you deadpanned without looking up from your book.

You squawked indignantly when she flicked your ear and yanked your book away from you.

“What the hell? I was reading.”

“I’m serious,” she huffed. “I had lunch with Wanda today and she mentioned that she has a friend she thinks would be perfect for you, and after scoping him out I have to agree.”

“Wonderful. Can I have my book back now?”

“His name is Bucky,”

“Someone actually named their kid Bucky?”

“It’s a nickname. And he’s a sweetheart,” she continued, ignoring you. “He’s a linguistics major. Minor in creative writing. You’re really gonna like him.”

“I’m sure I would if I were actually going to go out with him.”

“Oh come on. You haven’t been on a date in over a year.”

“Which should have been your first clue that I didn’t want to get set up. I’m enjoying single life. Thanks ever so much.”

You plucked the book from her hands and rolled over onto your back, trying to find your page.

“Sitting here pining over your best friend is not enjoying single life.”

“Number one, I’m lying down. And number two, I’m not pining over you. Though you certainly are a sight for sore eyes.”

You batted your eyelashes at her flirtatiously. She rolled her eyes and took your book again only to swat you with it.

“Cute. You know that’s not which best friend I’m talking about.”

You sighed and sat up, moving back against the headboard, slightly out of reach.

“I’m not pining over Steve either.”

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest weren’t very convincing.

“Y/n, you know I love you and I just want what’s best for you, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then just trust me and go on a date with Bucky. He’s exactly what you need.”

You sighed.

“You’re not going to let this go. Are you?”

Her smile was triumphant.

“Nope. And I’ve made it as easy as possible for you. He’s going to be your date to the carnival.”

“But Steve and I are going to the carnival together.”

It was tradition. It was not a date.

Unfortunately.

“Not until after Steve finishes volunteering. This is the deal. You, me, Wanda, and Bucky all meet. If you hate him immediately I’ll let you bail. But otherwise you hang out for a few hours; we’ll all meet up for lunch. And then you can spend the rest of the night with Steve. Deal?”

You mulled it over. It wasn’t the worst deal. Your date would have a set end point if it wasn’t going well. And if it did go well you had a buddy to go on rides with while Steve was working.

“And I promise not to set you up again for a month,” she added.

“For the semester,” you countered.

“Fine. Deal.”

“Deal.”

You shook on it.

“Excellent. I’ll tell Wanda to give him your number.”

“Buck, you home?” Wanda called as she let herself into the apartment.

“In my room,” he shouted back.

Picking up a few stray papers, Wanda stacked them neatly on the coffee table before heading down the hall towards Bucky’s room. He was hunched over, scrawling in a notebook.

“Academic or inspired?” she mused.

“A little of both. I really liked the flash fiction prompt we got in class today.”

“What was it?”

“Everyday romance.”

“What’s your story about?”

She smiled fondly at the shy excitement blossoming on his face.

“It’s kinda weird.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“It’s a series of descriptions of everyday items, but the descriptions are the way it’s special. Like: coffee in a novelty mug purchased at gift shop in Hawaii. The brew was set seven minutes ago with two teaspoons of sugar. Just the way he liked it,” he read aloud.

“That’s really sweet. You really do have a way with words.”

Bucky beamed.

“Thanks. So what brings you over?”

She perched on his desk, legs swinging back and forth.

“I have found the perfect girl for you.”

He rolled his eyes before she finished speaking.

“Wanda, I don’t need you to set me up.”

“Buck, you should be out experiencing love instead of only writing about it.”

“I’m just not looking for someone right now.”

“Then how come you went on a shitty date with Dot last weekend?”

“It wasn’t a date. We just went to dinner.”

“On a Saturday night in Little Italy.”

“She just wanted to thank me for my help with her paper.”

She leveled him with her stare.

“You don’t actually believe that do you?”

He silently met her gaze before crumpling.

“Okay, no. So it was a date, but it was enough of a failure for me to not want to do it again any time soon.”

“Or you can go out with the very sweet girl I’ve picked out for you.”

“How do you even know her?”

Wanda smirked, knowing that if he was asking he would likely agree to it.

“I don’t personally. She’s Nat’s best friend.”

Bucky’s brow disappeared into his hairline.

“Mainlines vodka and coffee and still has a 4.0 Nat?”

“Yup. That’s the one.”

“Not exactly my type.”

“Well, she’s the opposite of Nat so that works perfectly.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Why are you forcing this, Wan?”

“Because you deserve to be happy and I can’t watch you go on another shitty date. Although that’s a lot better than pining I suppose.”

“Fine,” he conceded, not wanting to argue that particular point.

He never won that argument.

“Give me her number. I’ll set something up.”

She plucked a card from the front pocket of her purse and handed it to him.

“Here you go. But the date’s already set up. You two are going to the carnival together.”

“That’s in two days.”

“Do you need more time to fix your hair?”

“Wanda,” he growled.

“I’m teasing. Relax. We were going anyway. Look, it’s super low pressure this way. You meet her in the afternoon and if it doesn’t work out, you say goodbye when we meet up for lunch. I will give you a built in out.”

“Promise?”

She smiled warmly at his innocent pout.

“Cross my heart.”

“Alright. Fine.”

“Great. You’re gonna love her. I promise she’s exactly what you need.”

A/N: This one is gonna be fun. Hoping to finish and have it queued to post regularly soon, but wanted to get this part out there. I hope you enjoyed!

Tag list is open (please send an ask)

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#Bucky x Reader #College!AU #buckysknifecollectionchallenge #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes #Carnival of Hearts

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jawritter · 4 years ago

Text

You and Me...

Chapter 23 FINAL CHAPTER

***SERIES WARNINGS**** Rape, non con, male!rape, injury, violence, discription of injury caused by rape, nightmares, self harm, panick attackes, implied female non con, language, ass hole Jensen, hurt!jensen, dark fic, smut. If there is anything else I will add it as I go.

***Chatper Warnings*** Memory of flashback, panic attack, breif discription of panic attack. the feels, all the feels, some fluff in there too, the worst part of this chapter is the flashback, and maybe some language, I don’t want to give to much away lol.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Word Count: 3k

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine!, Please do not copy my work!! Feedback is gold! I hope you enjoy this one! (flashback is in italics). The is the final chapter, and man this was a journey for me, I hope you all enjoyed reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Summery: It’s funny how one choice you made can change your whole life. One mistake can alter you course, and set you on a path that forever will haunt you. Two people find themselves getthing through one of the hardest trials of Jensen’s life, on just one small promise. You and Me. We’ll get through it together…

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***YOU AND ME MASTERLIST***

Taking the last leg of your journey in one day, the two of you pulled into Seattle somewhere around 7pm, three days after the two of you had left Austin.

The night you had spent in Salt Lake City together had stretched into the early morning hours. You'd never felt so close to someone. So in love with someone.

You couldn't believe that soon enough you'd be Mrs. Ackles. It didn't seem real.

You watch through the windshield as your soon to be husband checked into the Shafer Baillie Mansion Bed and Breakfast. A beautiful bed and breakfast in Seattle, Washington. He'd planned this whole trip down to the last tinny little detail. Stopping at little stops along the way. All the time just spent getting to know each other. Getting closer than you'd ever been with each other.

He paid the young lady at the front desk area that they had set up for check-ins. Then came walking out of the building. He'd enjoyed himself these last three days. You could tell. He just seemed to be over the moon since you’d left Salt Lake City, but watching him walk out to the car tonight, you could tell he was tired.

"Everything okay babe?" you asked, opened your car door for you, and grabbed your bags from the trunk.

"Yeah, I'm just tired." he said, walking by you and pecking you on the cheek before you both head inside.

He did look tired, but you couldn't help but worry that the reason he was acting this way was because you were so close to Vancouver.

So close to doing what he feared doing the most.

He loved shooting Supernatural. Often he said he felt lost when it was over, like a part of him was missing. Still there were new fears for him as he made this journey. Things and triggers that he didn't have to fight before.

Getting into the room, and getting your thing settled. He turned and flopped himself down on the bed. Groaning a little when he was finally laying flat. Stretching his arms over his head. You sit down next to him and start rubbing his chest through his thin T-Shirt.

"You sure you okay babe?" you asked him, laying down next to him. Cuddling into his shoulder, and rubbing your hand over his chest.

"Yeah I'm okay, I just got a lot of memories that I'm fighting right now." he said, smiling at you a little. "I haven't been this close to Canada since I locked the door to my apartment, and headed back to Austin the day after we shot the last scene on Supernatural."

You wrapped your arms around him tighter, letting him relax into you.

"It was a part of my life that I thought was close. That I'd left behind me. Not that I'm not grateful, and glad for another opportunity to do this, I guess I'm just afraid of the outcome. I don't want the show to wash out like some of the other comeback shows have. I've invested too much time into this to watch it fail." He said, rolling over to his side so that he could play with your hair.

“You guys are going to be just fine, you don’t have anything to worry about.” you tell him, watching as his eyes became heavy while you carded your hand through his hair.

“Let’s just order some take out tonight, I’m exhausted.” he mumbled as his eyes closed, and his breathing became heavier.

You leaned down, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Okay baby.”

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The next morning the two of you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of the Supernatural set. This is where he was going to be leaving the car that you two had driven up here to be auctioned off for charity.

Cliff had left a black SUV here for the two of you to use while you were here.

You only had to be in Canada a few days to look for, and sign some paperwork on an apartment that Jensen was looking into getting. His old apartment. So it shouldn’t be a problem.

"So, I take it we're flying home then?" You asked him as you both got into the SUV.

"Oh yeah. I don't think I'm that spunkie to make another three day drive back to Austin." Jensen said with a laugh before closing the door he looked around. There seemed to be no one else here.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel a moment, Jensen then got out of the car, and looked around while leaning on the door.

"What are you doing?" you asked him, opening your door, and watching him closely as he walked up to the gate. Pulling out the key card that Clif had given him to open the security gate again.

"Come on I wanna show you some things, from what they tell me, all the old sets are still standing." he said, eyes bright with mischief.

"Well wait for me!" you yell at him as you run after him into the set.

The two of you walked through different sets that were still standing. Even after all this time. Even though it had only been about a year and a half it was still a little creepy to you. It looked old and abandoned. Which didn’t help the creepy factor at all.

Jensen walked around with your hand in his, telling you different stories and memories from his time spent on the show.

"Our trailers used to be parked over there. That's where the makeup and wardrobe trailer was. That's where they usually had the food tent. That Wearhouse over there is where they kept the Impala's. Those I know they took when the show ended. There's no need to look there.” He said, walking around like he knew exactly where he was going. Just like it had all just shut down today. A far off look in his eyes as memories flooded their way though his mind.

Finally coming to a big mettle building he stopped, pulled out his keys again.

"This should be it." He said, trying different keys. You stood there in silence as he worked. A little nervous about what awaited you on the other side of the door. Finally you heard the lock click as he opened it for the first time in over a year.

The mettle door scraped the ground loudly as it opened with a loud creaking sound that seemed to echo throughout the entire lot. Turning on the light on the phone he looked in.

"Yep, this is it." He said, walking into a dark room only lit by his phone. There was red wallpaper, a fireplace, a desk, and an attached kitchen. Different things you couldn't see in the dark that he seemed to be able to make out easily.

"Jensen where is this supposed to be?" you asked him as he came back over to where you were standing.

"Bobby's old house. The living room and the kitchen. Man I spent a lot of time here." he said, looking around almost like he was going to cry. Reaching over standing in the middle of the mostly dark room Jensen reached his arms around your waist, and pulled you as close to him as he could.

"Thank you for coming to do this with me." he whispered into your ear as he held you. "I needed this. I needed to remember what it was like to be here. What it was like to do this again. I needed to remind myself how much I missed it." He said.

Turning you brought your lips up to meet his.

"I told you almost a year ago, no matter what happens. It's you and me remember?" you asked him. He kissed you passionately.

"Yeah.. You and me." he said, before leading you out of the building. Locking doors on his way as he made his way out to the car that was waiting for the two of you.

It'd been a long year. A lot of hardships, and recovery from things that should have never happened. This time you felt like the winds of change were blowing in the favor of the two of you. This was the beginning of something good. It had to be. You'd both been through too much to have something go south again. You were both do for some good karma.

Somethings people were just meant to do. Playing Dean Winchester, you felt, was just that for Jensen. It was what he was always meant to do from the very beginning.

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

**Time jump seven years later**

Jensen's POV:

The stage lights were shining horribly bright in Dallas as Jensen and Jared tried to see the person standing off to the right side of the stage. It felt like they were miles away from the individual that was waiting to ask them a question.

"Hi!" Jared said. "I think there may be a person over here?"

The crowd chucked for a moment.

"What's your question?" Jensen said with a chuckle.

This never gets old. He could do it over and over again, it will always be his favorite thing to do. Getting to interact with his fans. Even though it could get a little stressful and tiresome at times, it was worth every hour of sleep missed.

"Hi! My question is for Jensen! You guys stopped filming the last season of Supernatural in its 20th season. These conventions are still going even though the new seasons have stopped. Did you guys see that coming, or was it something that came as a surprise to you?" she said.

She seemed older, and more confident than the fans that normally came to the microphone to ask them a question.

"No, we didn't see it coming. We thought well, the show is over, and the conventions will stop, but people just kept asking us to come, even offering to host these things in new cities. It's still growing even though we've finally put Sam and Dean to rest. This show is STILL impacting people's lives, and we couldn't be more blessed to have you guys. Without all of you these things wouldn't be happening, and wouldn't still be possible. So thank you." he said into the mic.

The crowd cheered as usual. More questions went through the mics. After all these years people were still coming up with good questions, which was impressive. When the show was over they were able to kind of give their own opinions so that put a new spin on things every year.

"Hi" Jared said, the girl that was standing on his side of the stage.

"Hi..." she fumbled nervously with her shirt. "My question is for Jensen," she stuttered into the mic.

"What is up with you getting all the questions today?!" Jared retorted into the mic. Jensen just smiled, and winked at the crowd.

"My home town dude, what did you expect."

A soft laugh went through the crowd.

"What's your question?" they said together, causing a laugh to erupt through the crowd again.

"Over the years you have become a large advocate for people who are recovering from violent tramas... You know... similar to what you went through.... How did you get to the place you could talk about that... and do it so in a way that it doesn't trigger you anymore?" she asked, looking at her feet more than she looked at him.

He knew immediately that she'd been through a similar thing. Her body language screamed it for her.

After all these years he'd learned the tale signs.

The way she avoided eye contact with anyone. The way she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to another, fidgeting, unable to stand still. Keeping an odd distance from all the other people that were standing around her.

He couldn't help the memories that flooded through his mind. All the milestones that he and y/n had made with each other's help. All the years that he had to struggle. Even though the attack was years behind him. The triggers that sometimes still came out of nowhere. The nightmares that haunted him for years before finally going away. For him though, his therapy had become helping other people that had gone through similar things.

One of the worst panic attacks he'd ever had was the first time Dean had to be tied to a chair by a monster they were hunting.

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

"Babe, if you can't do this it's okay. Just tell the writers, and I'm sure they can work around it." y/n said, wrapping her arms around his shaking frame. He'd been up two days dreading this scene. He knew it would happen eventually. He knew he'd have to face this.

"No, I'm doing this. I'm tired of people treating me like I'm fragile and shit. I can do this. I just got to balls up and do it." he said, working himself up like a football player before a difficult play.

"Jensen, it's time." The props girl said, coming over to the side of the set where the two of you were standing.

Jensen walked over to the chair. He wondered for a moment if this is what people felt like walking up to the electric chair. Sitting down they started to put the ropes around his wrist. Immediately the flash backs started, but he fought against them. He was already starting to sweat. Pushing painful memories down he tried not to dwell on what felt so real going on in your mind.

Y/n was kneeling down in front of him, her hand on his knee.

"Please baby, don't do this. I can tell you're struggling already. Don't do this." you begged him. Jensen was determined though. He was going to get past this, he had too.

"No. No, I can do it." he said through gritted teeth.

The director yelled for everyone to clear the set. Y/n Leaned down, and kissed his cheek before turning to walk away. As soon as she left the shaking started to get worse, that tightening feeling in his chest becoming almost unbearable.

They yelled for quiet on the set. It was getting hard to breathe and the room around him seemed to be spinning, everything sounded distant in an uncomfortable way, and Jensen could have sworn his tongue was glued to the roof of his extremely dry mouth. J

ensen looked over to y/n and Jared who were standing on the other side of the directors chair. Watching with worried faces.

That's never happened with a panic attack before.

Normally he knew when they were starting, and was able to take control of them by now. Even though he knew this was nothing but a panic attack. It was threatening to overtake him quickly.

"Action!"

The monster who was supposed to be a werewolf walked over to him sensually, her long nails dragged across the table as Dean struggled with his restraints. She was going through her lines. Salturing over she ran her finger nails down Dean's chest, just like the script instructed her to do. His body jerked hard in response. It was getting hard to stay in the present. To stay focused.

She picked up the knife laying on the table next to him.

"I should gut you right here. Leave you scattered all over the room for your precious Sammy to find when he finally gets here. After what you did to my sister." She sneers in his face, and puts the knife up to his throat.

The room went black.

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

That was the worst flashback/ panic attack he'd ever had. It was so bad it triggered a seizure. It took weeks to recover from that one. He wasn't allowed to be tied to any more chairs.

Jensen felt Jared slap you on the shoulder and bring you back to the present. He was smiling at him reassuringly. Jensen looked over to the side of the stage that the family and friends usually sat at. You were sitting there smiling at him.

"It took me a long time to get to the point I could do this. I still have bad days. I still get triggers. Sometimes without warning. I had to learn the hard way that what happened to me does define me. I'm not a victim unless I chose to be. My biggest therapy was learning how to share what happened to me with others. To help others get through some of the same things that I went through. I'm not fully recovered even though it's been years. I take things one day at a time. I decided that Instead of letting what happened to me control my whole life. I was going to take control, and use it to help others. Now I've spoken everywhere from hospitals, to church youth groups and camps."

Jensen took a deep breath, and looked over at the poor girl standing there hanging on his every word.

"It's been hard. It's never been easy. I'll always have the scars from what was done to me. Even though you can't physically see any. Every day is a blessing to me. I'm thankful for every person that I can touch. If it helps someone else, it makes the struggle worth it. My best piece of advice I can give you is this. It's okay to have bad days, it's okay to feel like shit, it's okay to have days that you can't even look at yourself in the mirror, I know I have. It's all part of the process. Get support. Someone you trust that can help you, I know if I didn't have y/n...I wouldn't be here today. I probably would have succumbed to depression, and you guys would be leaving flowers at my grave site today."

The crowd cheered in response. The girl thanked him and walked back to her seat. He made a mental note to go have her brought back stage so that he could talk to her in private.

"Okay guys I'm getting the signal. We got time to take one more question." Jared said.

Jensen pointed at the girl that was standing off on the other side of the light. "Yes, what's your question."

Your POV:

You sat there watching your husband answer questions, and joke with his friend. It was down to the last question. It was a light question about taking selfies with Misha on the boat. Thank God.

Sure he'd gotten to where questions about what happened to him didn't bother him in the least, but you knew after a while it could be taxing on anyone to have to answer question after question on that subject matter, and you would be glad when this con was over, so that you could go home to Austin for a little while with your husband.

Finally everything was over and Jensen weaved his way over to you. Not bothering even trying to go backstage.

He walked up to you wrapping you in a hug.

"You did great babe." You tell him, and he smiled that smile that damn near knocks you off your feet every time.

"Are you okay? No sign that the baby is coming is there?" he asks, putting his hand on your swollen stomach.

"No. Still safe and sound in there." you tell him, pulling him in to kiss you before he's ushered away from you to the next photo opp.

You were so proud of that man.

You couldn't believe how far he's come since you met him. He was everything you ever wanted and more. You couldn't wait until your baby was born. Part of you hoped that the little boy looked just like his daddy.

Sure a baby at Jensen's age wasn't something that was planned, but life had plans you guys didn't know about, but welcomed when you found out you were going to have a baby. Deciding you would be surprised, and wait to find out the gender, much to the annoyance of Gen, and everyone else that was part of the SPN family.

Life finally was looking up for you guys. Even though Jensen had some bad days. He gets better and better every day.

Just like you had promised him in the beginning you were with him every step of the way.

The picture from your wedding that sat proudly on your mantel in your home had a wood burned carving in it that said. "You and Me."

A constant reminder that no matter what you faced. You'd get through it together.

"You and me. No matter what." you whisper, as your husband walked toward the young girl that was struggling with her question. Stopping the whole progress to the photo op room just because he wanted to talk to her.

He may not be perfect, but to you he was perfect in every way.

Life had changed a lot since you met Jensen all those years ago in that small studio in Austin, Texas.

Even though there were challenges you both had to face, and lessons that you had to learn most normal couples hopefully would never encounter. It didn't destroy you.

It made you stronger.

Yes, there are monsters out there. They walk among us every day. They hurt people, and they do things to people that are down right inhuman and cruel.

Yes, bad things happen to people that don't deserve it.

Living in fear is NOT an option.

Watching Jensen overcome what happened to him was one of the hardest things you ever had to do, hell it changed you both.

Spiritual, mentally, and physically, neither of you would ever be the same.

Now you watched him take what was done to hurt him, to tear him down completely, and build up others. Strangers. People that he owed nothing, but instead let LOVE win.

There's no other person you'd rather spend the rest of your life with, scars and all.

No matter what life throws your way, no matter what may happen tomorrow. You would get through it together.. Just like you always promised.

You and me.

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

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katrina765 · 4 years ago

Text

++++

summary: y/n knows something’s wrong. things feel like they’re slowly collapsing as she sees her mother slip away. why was it always the prettiest roses that got picked.

song: heaven’s not too far

pairings: molina!reader

words: 3k

warnings: angst, death, cancer, pain, lots of crying

a/n: this one hit a little bit too close to home for me. i really put everything i had into this, so enjoy:) i’m so sorry if this broke you. i may or may not have caused the fam some heartache-

++++

“your mother is sick.”

that’s how a doctor broke the news to you and your siblings. carlos was too young to understand fully, julie had many questions, but you were silent. once the words were spoken, the reality of the situation crashed down on you.

you’d known your mother wasn’t doing well for a while. you were one of the first ones to notice when she’d started eating less. it was you who asked why she was tired all the time. she just wasn’t characteristically her and you saw that better than anyone.

only days after she had gotten progressively worse was when your father decided to take her to the hospital.

“y/n, you don’t mind staying home with your sister and brother, right?” your worried father asked as he rushed to grab his keys and jacket.

“of course not, papa.” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, wishing him a safe drive to the hospital.

before leaving through the front door, ray glanced back at you. his eyes held nothing but fear and worry. you could tell he was hesitant to go- hesitant to get answers.

“everything will be fine, papa.” that was all the reassurance he needed. with a silent nod, he closed the front door and made his way to the car where your mother had been waiting.

truth be told, you didn’t know if everything would be fine. there was a feeling in the back of your mind that was screaming at you. it yelled, begged, for you to listen and prepare yourself. deep down you knew things were about to change, you just had no idea how much.

months have gone by since that day. weeks have been spent in the hospital, in and out patient rooms becoming a normality. rose has gotten worse. the doctors have been doing everything they can to slow down the progression of the cancer, but she’s still feeling just as awful as when she came in.

maybe even worse.

that’s what pained you the most. watching your sick mother try to comfort your family. everyone knew she was the strongest one, but it really shone now. you knew she was dying and yet you watched as she ran her fingers through your brother’s hair, soothing him as he curled up on her side. she continued to write music with julie, sitting at the piano for longer than she should have.

she wasn’t the same as she used to be. the medicines had taken their toll on her body and it seemed like each day she grew weaker. you knew there was only so far she could go before it all became too much.

the chains creaked as they swung back and forth, supporting the weight of your baby brother. he was a light child, easily soaring through the air as you gave him gentle pushes forward.

your sister sat on the seat parallel to him, kicking her feet in time with her swings. she giggled carelessly as your mother jumped in front of her, catching her ankles each time.

“mama, you’re gonna make me fall!” julie squealed, pulling her feet away from her mother’s grasp.

rose jumped again, sticking her tongue out and rolling her eyes which sent julie into another laughing fit. all that filled the park were the sounds of the giggles that were exchanged between your mother and sister, occasionally you and carlos chiming in with laughs of your own.

“jules! don’t go too high! the birds might get ya!” you scrunched your nose, teasing the young girl. you found endless enjoyment in joking around with the little seven year old.

“mama, catch me!” without a second warning, julie jumped from the swing and into your mother’s arms. luckily, rose caught the small girl with ease, spinning in a circle once she had landed. “the birds were gonna get me!” julie dug her nose into the crook of your mother’s neck, shielding herself from the ‘birds’.

“they’ll have to go through me first, bebita!” rose raised a hand to julie’s head, holding her protectively close.

“oh yeah?” you called from behind carlos’ swing. julie lifted her head to watch you pull your brother up and onto your back, spreading your arms out to replicate wings. “hold on tight, calito!”

your baby brother clung onto your neck, giggling furiously as you darted towards the girls, imitating bird noises. as you squawked and flapped your arms, julie and your mother scrambled to get away. you chased each other through the park enjoying the warmth of the summer sun and each other’s company.

“ray! i-i said this already,” rose spoke in a hushed tone to her husband, taking a break between her words to take deep breaths.

“sí, i know but-”

“i don’t want to tell them how bad it is!”

you hadn’t been able to sleep tonight. endless streams of thoughts flowing through your mind had kept you awake. your world was turning upside down and it was only a matter of time before it overwhelmed you and consumed you completely.

the floorboards of your bedroom creaked gently as you made your way towards the staircase. you paused when you heard your parent’s conversation grow slightly louder. it wasn’t like your parents to fight and you certainly weren’t one to eavesdrop if they did, but you couldn’t help but halt all plans to head to the kitchen.

“all i’m saying, rose, is it wouldn’t be a bad idea to-” ray paused, taking in a shaky breath before continuing. “it wouldn’t be a bad idea to- to prepare them for-” the choked sob that escaped your father’s mouth caught you off guard.

the guilt of listening in was weighing on you. this wasn’t meant for your ears and yet your feet refused to move. at the top of the stairs is where you remained.

“i can’t do this without you. how am i supposed to raise all three kids without you? without their mother?” your father whispered. his words barely registered as you strained to hear.

“i believe in you, mi amor,” your mother leant forward, pressing her forehead against your father’s. her voice lowered to a whisper and you almost missed her next words. “you’ll do an incredible job without me. they have an amazing father to guide them through whatever life throws their way.”

“it still won’t be the same…”

silence filled the molina household once more. tears ran down your face as you let your mother’s words sink in. she was trying to shield you all from the truth. all she wanted to do was protect you.

tugging your knees to your chest, you sat there for a while. the occasional sniffle coming from your parent’s bedroom or your own nose as the weight of it all set in.

if thoughts hadn’t been clouding your mind before, they were surely suffocating you now.

“go, go, go, carlos! c’mon!” rose cheered, urging her son to move forward.

“mama, i’m scared!” the little boy called back, shakily pushing his feet onto the pedals.

“you can do it, mijo! the carlos i know wouldn’t let a little red bike scare him!”

“ready, carlos?” ray piped up, ready to release his hand from his son’s seat.

the child stuck his tongue out in concentration, debating whether or not he could hold himself up on the bike. the handlebars shook slightly as he steadied himself, but he was quick to regain control.

“c’mon carlos!” you and julie screamed from the opposite end of the driveway. the two of you had been sat on the concrete, blissfully strumming your guitars and jotting down lyrics. there was an upcoming school talent show and the two of you were preparing a song to sing to your fellow eighth and sixth grade classmates. your parents had urged the two of you to sign up, insisting there was no one more talented than their little musicás.

“i’m letting go, carlos!”

“papa, no!” in reality, ray had let go ages ago, watching as his son pedaled down the driveway towards his mother and sisters.

“mijo, you’re doing it!” rose clapped her hands together, scrambling to move out of his way.

the cheers and whoops carried on as carlos sped all the way down the driveway and onto the neighboring sidewalk. he faltered slightly on his turn, but continued down past the next few houses.

“ummm, maybe someone should chase after him.” julie suggested, stifling a laugh as your parent’s eyes widened and they rushed after the boy. he had zoomed past two more houses before they finally caught up to him and aided his stop.

“he’s never coming home again once he gets the hang of that, jules.” your sister giggled at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“mama’s gonna have to chase him everywhere.”

“papa?” you walked into the kitchen slowly, bunching up the sleeves of your sweater nervously.

“hi, y/n.” ray looked up from the cutting board, offering you a tired smile. “you okay, sweetie?” the shake of your head was enough to pull your father from his task entirely. he quickly wiped his hands on a nearby towel and rushed to your side.

“i just- i just wanted to tell you that i know.” your father looked confused. he was patient as you took you a minute to find the right words. this wasn’t exactly a simple thing to talk about. “i know she’s gotten worse, papa. she- she tries to stay strong, you both do, but i can see how tired everyone is. i want to help, but i-”

how were you supposed to help? what were you supposed to do? become a doctor- a scientist- and discover a cure to your mother’s disease all overnight?

were you supposed to reach inside your mother’s body and take out the cancer yourself? surely not.

what on earth were you supposed to do to make this situation better?

there was nothing you could do and that’s what hurt the most. that’s what hurt you all; being entirely helpless. you felt useless.

all you had were your words, music, and mother.

and you barely even had that.

“i’m scared! what if they don’t like me?” you paced back and forth backstage of your first show. it wasn’t anything big, you were a sophomore in high school performing at a school concert, yet this felt like the most important thing in the world.

your mother sat on the stairs leading up to the stage. she watched as you went left to right to left to right to left to right to left-

“mija!” she quietly scolded. you immediately stopped your pacing, looking at her with worried eyes. rose patted the stair next to her, ushering you over.

you found yourself rushing to her side, finding immediate comfort in her arm around your shoulder. you mindlessly fiddled with the bracelets on your wrist- the same ones your mother had gotten for you on your thirteenth birthday.

“carina, you’re going to do phenomenal. you’re the best singer i’ve ever heard. those students will be lucky to hear your voice.”

“but, mama-”

“no ‘buts’! i’m not just saying this because i’m your mother. i truly believe in you, y/n.” rose rested her head on top of yours, reaching for your hand to lace together with hers. “you’re going to do amazing things, mija. i can’t wait to see you out in the real world, one day. that’ll be my little piccolo on the big stage.”

the pacing.

it’s what you did when you were nervous. the backstage of your show, your bedroom, the living room, the studio, outside of the music room, and now another hospital hallway.

your sneakers squeaked against the freshly cleaned tile as you moved from one end of the hall to the other. your fingers were twirling the bits of string on your wrist while your mind was somewhere far, far away.

this was some cruel joke. it had to be. there was no way the universe or whatever god you believed in could punish such a good woman- a good family.

it had to be some mistake that a seventeen year old girl felt like she aged decades in a matter of three years because of worrying she did about her mother. wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? sure the child could worry about the parent, but wasn’t the parent supposed to worry when their kid scraped their knee or when they turned on the stove for the first time?

it wasn’t normal for a young girl to cry herself to sleep because she was scared her mother wouldn’t be there in the morning to greet her. it was wrong.

and yet here you stood; pacing an empty hall while the rest of your family sat at your mother’s bedside in another cold, stale room. a copy of the million other cold, stale rooms you had been in so many times before.

a door opened, catching your attention. you hand instinctively moving from your bracelet to your mouth.

“y/n?” your father’s voice was tired. it was like he hadn’t slept in days. no, years.

“papa?” you took long strides towards him, panic rising with each step. the nibbling of your nails continued as he ran a shaky hand through his greyed hair.

“i think you should come- come in and be with us.”

that was when you snapped. of course you didn’t mean to. it was only a matter of time when the emotions you suppressed for nearly three years, rose to the surface.

“how? how, papa?” ray’s eyes found the ground, tears forming in them again. “how am i supposed to go in there and sit by her side while she- while she d- while she...dies?”

your own eyes had clouded over. with each word your throat closed tighter. it took everything in you to bite back the sobs that so desperately wanted to escape.

“mija…” your father cleared his throat before he continued on, eyes meeting yours once more, “i understand this is hard. this isn’t easy for any of us, but she needs you. y/n, you would never forgive yourself if you didn’t say goodbye.”

this time you let yourself cry freely, without any care of what sob or croak would leave you. ray moved over to you, wrapping his arms around you like he’d done so many times before. he pressed a kiss to your head as you continued to cry into his chest, mentally bracing yourself for what was to come. you knew he was right, you had to go in there even if it would bring you more pain than closure.

“let’s go in there, yeah?” your father whispered once you had regained control of your breathing and wiped the tears from your face. you were sure more were going to replace them, but you had to at least try to put on a brave face.

ray opened the door for you, revealing your red-eyed brother in an armchair. for being only nine, he had more pain in his expressions than you ever would have imagined. he stared at the foot of your mother’s bed, in a sort of daze. julie clutched your mother’s hand, kneeling next to his chair. her head was down as she silently cried against the blankets.

then your eyes moved to your mother. her eyes were closed. she was exhausted. you all were. her skin was like porcelain; pale and fragile. you’d never seen her in such a delicate state.

“hi, mama…” the tears returned and it was only a matter of time before your voice failed you completely. she stirred quietly, lifting her head to see you better. her lips formed the ghost of a smile as she ushered you over, releasing julie’s hand.

you took the seat next to her, gently lowering yourself onto her bed. she reached out for you, holding your hand tightly.

“piccolo…” her other hand raised to gently cup the side of your face. her thumb brushed away a few stray tears. you tried to stifle a chuckle at the silly nickname she used.

it was your first instrument; a piccolo. your parents weren’t very fond of the flute-like device, especially when you would practice at night. there were so many days baby julie had woken up crying from the high-pitched squeaks of your piccolo. your mother teased you about it years later.

‘my little piccolo, playing her little piccolo!’ she’d laugh.

“you know i hate when you call me that, mama.” you joked back, playing along.

“no you don’t, piccolo.” you shook your head, silently letting more tears fall. your mother’s smile faded as she watched you crumble. you were both so strong, but after coming so far, it was hard to keep your head up. “be strong, mija...for me?” she whispered.

“always, mama.”

“i know- i know it will be hard, but you can do it. do it for julie…” your sister looked up at the sound of her name. “for carlos...for your father...for me. i need you to do that.”

you nodded your head again, silently making that promise.

“i love you, mama.” was all you managed to get out before another sob filled your throat.

“i love you, my little piccolo…”

carlos had risen from his seat. he gently sat beside you, taking your hand in his. on the other side of the bed, julie and your father had done the same. the five of you linked together, all leaning in to rest your heads against each other for a moment.

there wasn’t another word spoken. your mother leaned her head back against the pillow and took in a shallow breath. julie cried against your father’s shoulder as carlos leaned on you.

then your mother’s hand went limp.

you squeezed your brother’s, almost as if to check that he was still there. he returned the gesture, crying harder into your shoulder when the machines had finally stopped their whirring.

that was it.

she was gone.

the molina family had to go through life with one less member.

++++

we three collection masterlist

++++

@mystic-writings @msmarvelsmain @poppin-peters @caitsymichelle13

#one shot #short story #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #jatp #sunset curve #reggie peters #alex mercer #luke patterson #bobby wilson #julie molina #carlos molina #ray molina #rose molina #y/n molina #jatp fic

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taeyongdoyoung · 4 years ago

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summary: you are a mermaid and you save a handsome man from drowning but little do you know it’s not his first rodeo when dealing with mermaids. seonghwa, a former prince, is currently hongjoong’s first mate and boyfriend. hongjoong is the captain, the pirate king of the most savage crew across the seas. and you want nothing to do with them. not because they’re pirates, but because they’re humans…

ship: mermaid!reader x prince/pirate!seonghwa x pirate!hongjoong

genre: little mermaid!au, pirate!au, romance, ANGST, fantasy

warnings: suicide mentions, murder mentions (rip ariel), depression, panic attack, threats, someone loses a hand (bc let’s be honest, it wouldn’t be a pirate story without hooks), manipulation, betrayal, kidnapping

author’s note: mingi has a cameo, i made him a huge asshole (so sorry, irl mingi), just a reminder that everything i write is completely fictional! mingi is a a total sweetheart, i just needed a villain for the story to develop lmao

word count: 3k

chapter one ☠️ chapter two ☠️ chapter three ☠️ chapter four ☠️ chapter five ☠️ chapter seven ☠️ chapter eight ☠️chapter nine ☠️ chapter ten ☠️ chapter eleven ☠️ chapter twelve ☠️ chapter thirteen☠️ spotify playlist

You finally felt ready enough to face Seonghwa and let him explain himself. It was only fair, after all. You couldn’t take Hongjoong’s word for it, considering how he felt about you. You had to hear Seonghwa’s side of the story in order to make a proper decision. So, when you swam back to the ship all by yourself (because you didn’t want to deal with Soojin’s cheerful remarks right now), you were happy that Hongjoong wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You assumed he would drown you himself if given the chance. Luckily, you saw Yeosang nearby.

“Yeo!” you whisper-yelled. “Can you call Seonghwa for me?”

“Y/N!” Yeosang seemed surprised to see you. “I’ll get him for you rightaway.”

“Great, thanks!”

“Are you…okay?” he was obviously concerned.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you lied, because you didn’t feel like getting into it in front of Yeosang.

“Just asking,” Yeosang replied vaguely and went to call Seonghwa.

Soon enough, you were faced with him. It had only been a week of no contact with the gorgeous man and you felt like you had missed him for an eternity. You quickly reminded yourself of the reason you’d come here. You couldn’t go easy on him.

“I need to talk to you,” you stated directly.

“I understand,” Seonghwa sighed. “What about?”

“You know what,” you observed. Judging by how guilty his pretty face looked, he knew very well. And he’d spent many sleepless nights considering it. Serves him right, you thought.

“Do you want me to deny it? Because I can’t,” Seonghwa’s voice broke. “It’s true. I knew Ariel and loved her and she died because of that. You have every right to hate me. What more can I say?”

You looked away, overwhelmed by the painful realization Hongjoong had been telling the truth. But he’d left something out, you knew it.

“Tell me the whole story,” you insisted. “You didn’t kill Ariel yourself, right?”

“Of course not!” Seonghwa cried out.

“Then give me a reason to forgive you for keeping this a secret!” you continued. You couldn’t imagine Seonghwa to be the bad guy. You just couldn’t.

“The local tales have got it all wrong,” Hwa admitted. “I was going to marry Ariel, I didn’t give a shit about that princess my parents were trying to set me up with. See, the thing is…they just couldn’t let me be happy. They bribed the sea witch into turning Ariel into sea foam. When I found out, I was so heartbroken I considering ending my own life. But I had to avenge her death, first. So, I tricked the witch into transforming her body into an exact replica of mine. Her greed was so big she really thought I was just going to hand her my kingdom on a plate. After she was done with the magic, I killed her. I made sure my parents would find the body, because I wanted them to suffer for what they’d done to Ariel. By the time I was done executing my revenge, I didn’t want to die. I knew I had to keep living. For her.”

Your eyes were welled up with tears. Seonghwa’s story was completely devastating. And looking at him now…you knew that was the whole truth. You couldn’t have it any other way. But you also couldn’t bear staying. Not yet, at least.

“Seonghwa…I appreciate you telling me all this,” you murmured. “But I’m going to need some time alone, okay? I loved Ariel, too, you know? And this is just…a lot to take in, yeah?”

Seonghwa nodded sadly.

“I’m going to respect your decision. If you want to talk again, you know where to find me, right?”

“Right. Take care, Seonghwa,” you closed your eyes and sniffed lightly.

“You too, Y/N.”

“And…Seonghwa?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

And with that, you swam away.

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

This shit hurt like hell. I thought my heart had been at its limit when I found out Ariel had been turned into sea foam. Or when I realized Hongjoong had betrayed my trust. I didn’t think it could take any more heartbreak. But here it was. Still beating despite everything I’d been through. I remembered the time I’d wanted to kill myself. Put an end to all my suffering. I felt that wish slowly returning to me. But I couldn’t imagine inflicting such pain on Y/N or my crewmates. Not even Hongjoong…Because even though he stabbed me in the back, I still cared for him deeply. I also thought about Y/N’s last words to me. She didn’t hate me. Despite all I’d had done, she couldn’t hate me. I kept repeating that to myself. She just needed some time to figure things out for herself. If she could potentially forgive me…why couldn’t I forgive myself?

“Hyung, your hands are shaking!” Yeosang interrupted my distressing thoughts all of a sudden. He grabbed them tightly. “Just, breathe, okay?”

I tried to do as he said. But I felt so numb. So weak. So…alone.

“Everything will be fine, hyung, I’m here,” Yeosang kept repeating until my hands stopped shaking. Then, he held me while I fell asleep without saying a word. I was too weak to even open my mouth. What had become of me? I needed to pull myself together.

☠️☠️☠️

In the morning, I couldn’t find Yeosang in the room. I was just about to thank him for everything he’d done for me. I was feeling a lot better and wanted to cook him some chicken to show my gratitude. When I came out of the room, I asked Wooyoung and San if they had seen him, but they said they hadn’t, which was slightly troubling. Me and Hongjoong still weren’t on speaking terms, so I didn’t bother looking for him. I would find Sangie myself. After an hour, I had searched the whole ship. And there was no trace of Yeosang. Which was extremely distressing. Where could he have gone? Without telling anyone? Not me, not even his best friend Wooyoung. Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. So, I found myself forced to reach out to Hongjoong.

“Have you seen Yeosang?” I asked him without even knocking on his door.

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me?” Hongjoong scoffed.

“I don’t want to,” I groaned. “But I’m worried about him. No one’s heard from him for the past hour. I couldn’t find him anywhere. It’s weird.”

Hongjoong put a hand on his forehead in a tired but unsurprised manner. He obviously knew something I didn’t.

“Hongjoong, where is he?”

“Set the course for Mingi’s territory, I’ll explain everything once we get Yeosang back.”

“WHAT?” I yelled, completely terrified for Yeosang’s life. “WHAT WOULD YEOSANG BE DOING IN MINGI’S TERRITORY?”

☠️☠️☠️

Yeosang’s POV

In retrospect, coming here on my own was a very bad idea. But when I woke up in the middle of the night found a note next to my pillow, saying “Come alone if you don’t want your friends to get hurt,” signed with Mingi’s name, I just couldn’t refuse the challenge. I thought I could take him down once and for all. After he’d sold us out for more treasures and a bigger ship, I wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. But I had overestimated my abilities.

“Where is my ring, Kang?” Mingi roared angrily the minute I set foot on his ship.

“What ring?” I played dumb and gave him the most innocent smile I was capable of.

“The ring you stole from me, you bastard!” Mingi hissed. “Fight with me again. Winner keeps the ring.”

“I don’t have your ring,” I admitted. How could I? I had given it to Soojin…But I would never tell Mingi that. I couldn’t risk him going after my sweet angel.

“You lost it?” Mingi screamed in frustration.

“Whatcha gonna do if I did?” I smirked mischievously. I shouldn’t have asked, damnit. Shouldn’t have provoked him.

Mingi lunged at me with his sword. I pulled out mine quickly and fought back. But fuck me, he was faster and more skilled than the last time I’d faced him. He’d been working out, too. Why did I come here again? Ah, yes, thinking it would be noble to sacrifice myself. As long as my friends were safe, right? Well, guess what, dumbass. If I died, what’s the guarantee Mingi wouldn’t come after my friends, anyways? I fought him as hard as I could but I was so tired…I hadn’t been sleeping much the last coupled of days, because I was too busy comforting Seonghwa and making sure he wasn’t going to do something stupid to himself. And now, all these sleepless nights were taking their toll on my sword performance. One moment of distraction and I would be dead. Mingi could spot my frailness and took advantage of it. So far I was managing to give as good as I get. But I knew this couldn’t last forever. I had come totally unprepared for a fight. When Mingi cut off my right hand, I could barely register what had happened. I just stared at my bleeding arm and the limp hand lying on the ground. Mingi was staring, too. He couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“Fuck!” I screamed in pain and no sooner had I said that than Hongjoong and Seonghwa appeared from out of nowhere and attacked Mingi’s ship with guns blazing. Thank God. Then, I passed out.

☠️☠️☠️

Hongjoong’s POV

“Shh, let him rest,” I whispered to Wooyoung who was being way too loud once we had safely returned to our own ship. Recap: we took Mingi by surprise, which is why we were lucky enough to succeed in disarming him and snatch poor Yeosang away from him. Mingi had not expected us to find him so quickly but the thing is, I knew him all too well. So, locating him hadn’t been difficult. It was watching the consequences of my mistakes that was hard. Because of my softness, Yeosang had lost his hand…If only I had killed Mingi when I’d had the chance. But he used to be one of us. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. We’d almost gotten executed by the army for being pirates because of his betrayal. And for what? More treasures? A bigger ship? Insignificant things when compared to having a purpose in life, having a family. But who was I to judge him? After all, I had been guilty of treason myself. The way I hurt Seonghwa…I could never forgive myself, even if he, by some miracle, did. I was such an incorrigible asshole.

“What happened?” I heard Yeosang’s weak voice pull me out of my self-deprecating thoughts.

“Well, for starters, you lost a hand,” I informed Yeosang, thought I doubted my input would be of much help.

“I can see that, jackass,” Yeosang rolled his eyes. “How did you get me out in time? How did you beat Mingi?”

“We were just lucky, that’s all,” I lied. I was doing an awful lot of that recently. Yeosang didn’t have to know what I’d given up in order to get there on time. It would break him. And he had already been through hell.

Yeosang narrowed his stare in suspicion, but didn’t push it.

“Where is Seonghwa?”

“He’s resting,” Wooyoung responded. “You should, too, pal, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Yeosang groaned sarcastically.

“Listen, Sangie…I know you probably don’t want to hear any of that right now, but this is just a reminder that we’re here for you. And this isn’t the end. You can always learn how to use a sword with your left hand and…”

“You’re right, Cap,” Yeosang cut me off. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

I nodded in understanding.

“Get some sleep, yeah? We’ll talk again…once you’re ready.”

Wooyoung gave his best friend a supportive squeeze of the arm and we left Yeosang to his own devices. He’d be okay. He was a strong one. But me? I was way past saving…

☠️☠️☠️

Seonghwa’s POV

“You promised you’d explain everything once we get Yeosang back,” I grabbed Hongjoong by the collar of his shirt. “We got him back. How did you know he would be on Mingi’s ship? And how on earth did you make the ship move so fast?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes to hide himself from me. But I wasn’t going to let him. He would tell me the truth or he would have to say goodbye to me. For good.

“Seonghwa…”

“No, Hongjoong. You will tell me everything right now or I’m walking out of here, you hear me?”

Hongjoong opened his eyes, fear evident in them.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“At the beginning.”

“But you have to listen without saying a word. Telling you all this is going to be quite difficult for me. If you have any questions, ask me after I’m done. Can you do that for me?”

I nodded.

“So…you know how Yeosang stole this really pretty ring from Mingi back when he betrayed us? But what you don’t know is that this ring was the only thing Mingi had left from his lover. Now, I don’t know her identity but whoever she was, she meant the world to Mingi. See, the problem is…Yeosang gave that ring to Soojin. And I somehow…suspected that Mingi would find out the ring was missing. That he would come looking for the ring. And I was right. It’s just a miracle we got there on time.”

I tilted my head slightly. Something didn’t add up. I didn’t trust Hongjoong’s bullshit explanation. He was keeping something from me. Again.

“You suspected it? A miracle? Do you take me for a fool, Hongjoong? What are you not telling me?”

Hongjoong bit his lower lip as if it to keep his precious secrets from spilling.

“Mingi’s lover was the sea witch you killed. The same who turned Ariel into sea foam.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hissed angrily.

“I wish I was. A couple of hours ago when we were on his ship, Mingi confronted me about it. He said he knew she wouldn’t just disappear from him without a trace. I told him she was dead. I’d buried her body. Well, your body. ”

“Hongjoong…” I clenched my fists and gave him a warning look that was self-explanatory.

“I didn’t tell him you killed her, of course,” Hongjoong replied quickly. “But I did tell him it was mermaids who killed her,” he announced proudly. What the fuck?

“You didn’t…” I said in vain, even though I already knew he did. He was that big of a dumbass. “What if he comes after Y/N? After Soojin? They’re innocent, Hongjoong! How could you involve them like this?”

“Was I supposed to let Mingi come after you? We barely escaped him...”

I shook my head in disappointment. He was insane. Then, it hit me. He was still hiding something. Something bigger.

“How did we get there so fast?”

Hongjoong gulped nervously.

“Don’t make me…” he begged.

“Make you?” I laughed maniacally. “You dug your own grave, sweetheart.”

Hongjoong flinched as if I’d struck him. Had I gone too far? Maybe. But he started it.

“I won’t tell you,” he was adamant about it. “I’ll tell you anything else but not this.”

“Then, we’re done here,” I turned around and started walking away.

“No, Hwa, please,” Hongjoong begged and tried to take my hand but I shrugged him off.

“You don’t get to keep things like that from me, to betray my trust again and again, and then ask me to stay,” I whispered.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Reader’s POV

“How long will it take you to forgive Seonghwa?” Soojin sighed, exasperated.

“What’s it to you? You can go see your precious boyfriend whenever you want,” you snapped at your sister.

“Yeah, but it’s way more fun when we go to our pirates together!” Soojin explained.

You laughed sarcastically.

“Since when are they our pirates? They are humans, Soojin, not property!”

“Okay, okay,” Soojin lifted her arms in the air, surrendering. “But seriously…we should go talk to them again. I have a bad feeling…I don’t know how to explain it, I just…I’m worried about Yeosang. Please?”

You agreed reluctantly.

“But if everything’s alright, I’m going back here,” you announced.

Soojin nodded excitedly. The two of you swam up. Once you reached the surface, you realized Soojin had picked an awful time to check up on Yeosang. It was too dark. And as you approached the ship, you were overwhelmed by a gnawing sensation. Soojin had been right. Something was awfully wrong. The ship seemed exactly like Hongjoong’s…And yet, there was something strange you couldn’t quite place. Did it look bigger at night? How was this possible? You had seen it at night when you’d saved Seonghwa from drowning…And it did not look like this. Had your memories deceived you? You could tell this was certainly a pirate ship. But why were you doubting it was the pirate ship you’d been looking for? What were the odds to run into other pirates in the middle of the night? You were fairly certain you could recognize Hongjoong’s ship anywhere. And yet…

“Yeosang!” Soojin started screaming mournfully. “Where are you?” You could tell by her voice that she was worried sick about her pirate boyfriend. And for a good reason.

“Shh,” you pressed your hand against your sister’s mouth. “Quiet. Something’s not right.”

She blinked at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” she mouthed.

“I don’t know,” you mouthed back. “But before we found out, can you keep it down?”

Soojin nodded, obviously trusting your judgement. She was uncharacteristically anxious, too. Instead of her usual cheerful self, she was being very jumpy.

“Listen…let’s come back here when it’s daylight, okay?” you suggested. “I’m sure Yeosang will be fine.”

“Just let me try calling his name one more time, yeah?” Soojin murmured hopefully.

“Soojin, no!” you tried to stop her but it was already too late.

“YEOSANG!” Soojin cried out.

It was in that moment the fishnets fell upon you.

To be continued…

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