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malleux · 4 years

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spell [2]. | corpse husband

part one ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

-> Warnings: Hate Comments, Self Doubt, Anxiety, Cursing

-> A/N: thank you for 1k notes on part one! i’m so glad everyone likes my work. it’s really nice getting this much love after taking a hiatus on my fire emblem writing blog. i hope y’all enjoy it and stay on the lookout for part three!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since you joined Sean’s Among Us stream.

While that was your first public appearance, you had joined three others after that and already you were blowing up on almost every social media platform you had. The attention was kind of nice, you had to admit, but sometimes the anxiety of becoming a public figure weighed heavily on your shoulders.

During that time, you turned to your friends who were used to such scrutiny: Sean, Felix, and now Corpse, who you’ve been talking to every day for those two weeks.

It was another one of those nights where, at 1am, you were on Facetime with said man. His screen was dark, as usual. He hadn’t shown his face yet and you respected that. You didn’t need to see him to talk to him, or be his friend, or develop a slight crush on him. All of which you did.

The call was relatively silent on your end. Corpse was on Facetime with you, yes, but he was also on a call in Discord, once again playing Among Us.

You often wondered if playing that game was all your new friends did anymore.

You stayed quiet, letting Corpse play the game and avoiding his fans finding out about your call. You had college work to finish anyways, so the silence was rather helpful.

“We should ask Y/N if she wants to play. I wanna meet her.” Sykkuno’s voice rang out from the Discord call. He was right- you’d never met him. He and Corpse seemed extremely close, though, so you’d love to talk to him. A friend of your crush friend was a friend of yours.

“She’s busy tonight.” Corpse responded.

“Yeah, she’s got an exam coming up- wait, how do you know?” Sean joined in, questioning Corpse.

“Uh, I mean we’re on Facetime right now, I guess.” Your heart sped up- now his fans knew. “She’s studying. We’re just hanging out.”

“Didn’t you guys ‘hang out’ last night as well? It seems like you’re trying to take my best friend away from me.” Sean joked back.

“I mean, I definitely am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. What was that supposed to mean? Sean was obviously kidding, but the tone in Corpse’s voice wasn’t the one he used when he was joking as well.

Felix suddenly butted in. “Ooooh, I think Corpse-y has a little crush.”

“And if I do?”

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

꧁꧂

Three weeks, now, that you’ve been talking to Corpse daily.

One week since Corpse’s crush comment and one week that you’ve endured countless mentions and tags on Instagram and Twitter, constantly talking about #CorpseY/N.

You didn’t really mind the shipping, often losing yourself in daydreams about driving those two hours down from your apartment in Los Angeles down to San Diego and running into his arms. It didn’t help when he mentioned wanting you to come visit one day.

You just worried about how Corpse felt about them. He was still relatively new to blowing up on the internet as well, his fame suddenly skyrocketing in the past few months, so you weren’t sure if he was comfortable with them. You didn’t want to bring it up, either, fearing that the discussion would make things awkward between the two of you.

For now, you were rather content with just scrolling through the #CorpseY/N hashtag, looking at the pictures and nice things people had to say about you both.

“they’re so cute when they talk to each other, you can just tell Corpse meant it when he said he was trying to steal Y/N away.”

“#CorpseY/N is my new favorite thing. Everyone shut up this is all I’ll be talking about from now on.”

“God why can’t they just be together already? #CorpseY/N”

Everyone was so supportive and sweet, it almost made you feel like you already were Corpse’s girlfriend. Although your heart hurt when you were brought back to reality, you couldn’t help but love the comments that everyone left. They were amazing.

Until they weren’t.

There are always two sides of the same coin. Along from the supporters and their loving actions, there were also those who seethed at the idea of you and Corpse.

They scrutinized everything about you to the point that you made your Instagram account- already with 30k followers- private.

Haters talked about you. Your body, your personality, how you weren’t worthy to even talk to Corpse and the rest of the Youtubers, and so much more. You’ve spent many nights with your Facetime mic muted so that Corpse couldn’t hear the small sobs coming from you.

These thoughts were almost always on the back of your mind, but you were sometimes able to push them away.

Like now- as you focused on your exam. Well, tried to focus. There comes to be a time where one can only hear so many negative things about themselves before they can’t ignore it anymore.

But alas, you tried your hardest and finished your exam, before walking out of the room and pulling out your phone. Now, you had a break before your new classes started and you’ve never been more relieved. You pulled up a certain contact and clicked on the message icon, beginning to type.

you:

i’m finished! up next, a break.

corpse:

I hope you did well. How long is your break?

you:

two weeks!

corpse:

Come spend it in San Diego

You stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the offer. You really didn’t think that he’d invite you over, but you weren’t about to complain. Instead, you sent back an ‘I’ll pack tonight :)’ and rushed home to do just that.

Corpse called you as you packed, just like he calls every night. You were used to the routine now, often falling asleep around 3am as he stays on the phone, doing whatever he does with his ruined sleep schedule until you wake up and say good morning.

Tonight, however, you were too jittery to sleep. You stayed up all night with Corpse, talking about anything and everything, like usual.

What wasn’t usual, though, was how distracted he sounded. It made you nervous- was he having second thoughts about inviting you over? Was something wrong?

Your thoughts nearly overwhelmed you, forcing you to say something.

“Are you okay, Corpse?” You tried to hide the small shake in your voice.

“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s good. Why?”

“It doesn’t sound like it. What’s going on? You’re acting off.”

His side of the phone was silent for a moment, before he let out a sigh. “I’m just thinking about what I’ve got to do before you get here tomorrow. Like, cleaning and stuff.”

“Pshh, that doesn’t matter to me.” You waved your hand, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of your room.

“It’s just that, my apartment isn’t… the best. It’s small and there’s only one bedroom and it’s kind of shitty. I just don’t want it to be even more shitty.”

“Corpse, I’m coming there to spend time with you, not your apartment. I don’t care what any of that shit looks like. I’m going to be looking at you and hanging out with you. Not your apartment.” You didn’t mean to go on a tangent of reassurance, but you truly meant all of your words. “Hell, I might not even see the apartment because I already know I won’t be able to look away from you.”

“I- God, give me a minute. That took me off guard.” He laughed. “But thank you. I may not even be able to clean because I’ll be distracted too.”

“By what?”

“You, standing in front of me, in person.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s a fucking dream come true.”

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taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions

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#fanfiction #x reader #fic blog #writing #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband #series #lay writes #youtubers #youtubers x reader

6K notes · View notes

saturnsummer · 3 years

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worthy.

When Sol gets a GPA of 2.02, the study group (and Joon Hwi) comes together to cheer her up.

notes: another prompt by @thenerdywriter ! i wasn't sure if you meant it like this, but i hope you are satisfied! thank you for your prompt and your trust! i do apologise for the wait!

not much fluff or cliche romantic scenes, but just simple things that i hope when you read, remember your worth and never be defeated. you are worthy, loved and deserving to be appreciated. :) inbox always open!

for anyone who have sent prompts and asks, i thank you for your ideas! i have read through all your asks and am so excited to begin writing, but please understand if i can’t reply you as fast as i hoped! so sorry for this, i’ll try to address my inbox faster!! any mistakes or incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. enjoy!

edit: everyone, please don’t cry on this omg I’ve made 5 people comment their tears now and im terribly sorry for the tears.. I meant for this to be a light hearted story but looks like everyone is crying,, I’ll try not to make people cry now..

original prompt: where joon hwi and the rest of the gang shake some sense into her (sol a) about her self-esteem.

words: 2787 words

Sol is downstairs at the lounge, holding a clear bottle of soju. She takes another swig from the plastic bottle, hoping that the alcohol can numb her heart like it does to her head. It burns, and she’s turning woozy, but she grumbles and takes another swig.

2.02. She’s passed, at least. But she can’t help but feel upset. She wasn’t upset that she couldn’t score as well as Yeseul or BokGi, but upset that she’s satisfied with these low results. No one is going to hire her, even less offer an internship while looking at her track records.

Sol worked her ass off for this exam. She nearly died, if it wasn’t for Yeseul’s reminders to eat. Even her cold stoned face roommate bothered to place bottles of water on her desk. Yet, after all this...

“Why are you still up?” She hears Joon Hwi ask as he takes a seat next to her. She stays silent with a grim expression and turns away. Joon Hwi was the last person she wanted to see, especially when she’s in such a bad mod.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he catches her arm just as she’s about to chug her soju.

“Everything.” She slurs. “You know I’m not even upset with my GPA? I’m upset of being happy with my shitty grades.” Joon Hwi sighs, attempting to grab her bottle away.

“I should have never came to study. I should have never tried to prove myself to be Dan!” She scolds louder. Sol knows she’s drunk in front of her best friend, but she can’t control herself. She doesn’t care.

“Kang Sol...” Joon Hwi stands up, grabbing her bottle away from her. “You’re drunk. Go back.”

“I don’t belong here, anyway.” Her slurs catch Joon Hwi in his steps.

“I never once belonged with any of you. Being with all of you just drags you all further. I should just stop burdening you all with my questions and rot in a corner. Besides, no one would care.” She softly says, her voice filled with regret and guilt.

Sol has always felt this way. Ever since she was young, Dan was always the star child. She got top grades while Sol got through in the middle rankings. Dan was always more popular, prettier, smarter. Sol learnt at a young age that no matter what, she would always be overshadowed by Dan.

Thus, she learnt to be quiet. Only ask questions when she really needs to. Stick to familiar people. Only be loud when told to, and blend in in every situation. She learnt to depreciate herself, because no one appreciated her in the first place.

Joon Hwi wants to shake her. He wants to write an entire dissertation on why Sol belongs to Hankuk. He wants to show her what he sees: a smart, caring, passionate lawyer-to-be. He wants to show her what he sees when she testified for Professor Yang in court. A confident, woman knowing her morals and rights.

“Kang Sol.” Joon Hwi says, pulling her up by her wrist. Sol pushes him away, but her touches are sloppy and weak. Sighing, Joon Hwi knows that it is useless to argue about her grades and her worth when she’s not even half conscious of what she’s doing.

He grabs her coat lying on the couch, finding her phone and plans on calling Yeseul. But it’s past 1am, but he doesn’t want to trouble Yeseul. Sighing, he contemplates calling her roomie but reality smacks when he realises she’s home. Noticing how Sol is slowly nodding off, giving in to the fatigue, it leaves Joon Hwi not much of an option to carry her back.

Fishing the room key out from her coat, he takes special care in carrying her, sweeping his arm under her knee and lifting her slowly as to not disrupt her from falling asleep. The key card is in between his fingers as he slowly and quietly makes his way up to her dorm. He thanks the deities above that no one caught him or interrupted him.

Tapping the key card, a standard ‘beep’, he pushes the door with his back, and takes care to get him and her into the dark room. He can barely see anything, especially since he has no hands to on the lights, but he makes out his way in the small room using the moonlight and what he can tell.

Joon Hwi knows which side Sol sleeps, knowing from her stories that include her rolling from the bed up to the desk. By now, Sol was sleeping soundly, a slight snore escaping her. Gently, he sets her down on her bed and reaches to take her shoes off for her. Hanging up her coat that he placed on top of her whilst he was carrying her, he finally pulled the thick blanket over her.

But he didn’t leave just yet.

“I never once belonged with any of you.”

Sol’s words echoed in his head more than he thought it would. He stopped and bent down silently by her bed side, taking a few moments to wonder to himself just how and why does she feel so unworthy.

He grabs her bottle of water from her bag, before putting it next to her phone, which is on the table. Knelt on the floor, he observes the slow rise of her chest and the way her eyes flutter and nose twitch when Sol sleeps. Just how can someone like Sol think she’s any less than what he sees?

“You belong here in Hankuk. I’ll show you just why.” His whisper barely audible, as he brushes away a stray hair on her face. With that, he takes his leave and sneaks back to his dorm. (Without getting caught)

-----

The next day, after two painkillers and a big bowl of hangover soup (left mysteriously by someone at their pantry), Sol is headed to study group. She is running a few minutes early than their scheduled timing, but she’s surprised to find the group huddled in hushed whispers.

“What are you all looking at?” Sol asks, as she sets her book at her usual corner opposite Joon Hwi. BokGi lets out a startled yelp and Yebeom clamps his mouth shut. Sol isn’t surprised to see Jiho crowded there, but is even more shocked to see Sol B crowded with them too. If it was anything, Sol B wouldn’t crowd around and discuss things, unless it concerned herself, or benefitted her grades.

“What...” Sol leans over and raises her eyebrows. Yeseul’s eyes dart nervously and she breaks into a smile. The rest of the group just shuffles back to their seats murmuring under their breath.

“Nothing, unnie! They were just discussing on what to order for lunch.” Yeseul says as she walks over to Sol and takes her bag and books from her, before setting it on the table. “Unnie, shall we get coffees?” Yeseul escorts her out of the room before Sol could react. Sol assumes that it’s due to her hangover that Yeseul is suggesting coffee, thus just following and getting a cold brew and assorted drinks for the others.

When she returns, they distribute the drinks and start discussing on what to study.

“Noona, do you have anything?” BokGi asks, a little too enthusiastically. Sol is taken aback and lost for words. She usually just follows whatever the rest want, since answering her questions will take hours. Joon Hwi gives a sympathetic smile.

“How about you share with us about a recent case? Remember the one that Professor Kim liked in particular?” Joon Hwi suggests. Sol grows quiet. Her? The worst student? Sol let’s out an uncertain laugh.

“Ah, me? I rather my roomie shares. She did better than me.” Sol says, then prepares a fresh document for note taking on her laptop.

“I didn’t do well.” Sol B says quietly, her eyes emotionless as usual, leaning back into the chair. “You did the best. Go on.” Sol is stunned and just nods uncertainly. Taking out her case notes and her reports that she submitted, she nervously discusses the topic on hand. She sneaks Joon Hwi a couple of questioning stares but he only pretends to not catch her eyes.

Everyone is enthusiastic, asking questions and when Sol is stumped, they jump in to help her. They suggest ideas and Sol has never felt so energised by their energy before. She find it fishy how Joon Hwi just sits back and she can feel him smiling whenever she makes a point right or figures out a missing link.

An hour later, when they are done expanding on Sol’s case and discussing, they break for a late lunch together. Yebeom enters the room with bags of food, as usual over ordering. As they pass out containers of jjampong and jjajamyeon, Sol’s eyes light up when she saw the only thing that mattered in the whole order: her beloved pickles, in doubled servings.

What Sol doesn’t expect is for JiHo to dump his packet of pickles on her container of noodles.

“JiHo-ah, why...” Sol is dumbfounded for a moment as JiHo opens his pack of noodles to stir. JiHo only pushes up his glasses.

“You can have them, noona.” Sol is even more dumbfounded. This was the first time JiHo has called her noona. She didn’t care for the honourifics, and JiHo could call her by her full name for all she cared. But hearing those words from Seo JiHo’s mouth, just made her think everyone was utterly suspicious today.

“Okay, everyone is being weird. What is this?” Sol announces, hoping her tone came out fun, with no hints of anger.

“Nothing! We just know you’ve been feeling stressed, so JiHo decided to give you his share of pickles, right?” BokGi quips up, as he dives into taking the sauce to pour over the tangsuyuk, before Yebeom and him argue over pouring or dipping.

Sol, still feeling suspicious, breaks her chopsticks just as Joon Hwi picks up a pickle from her plastic saucer to put on her noodles. Her eyes dart from his chopstick to his face, but he just nods at her pickles, expressions hard to read.

Sol crunches on her pickles, but it does nothing to soothe the feeling that everyone was aware of something, but her.

-----

The rest of the week was a puzzle piece that Sol could not fix together.

She woke up everyday to a new message by Joon Hwi, sometimes sending her funny videos, or a simple “let’s get through this together”. She woke up once to her roomie handing her breakfast and coffee. It just didn’t click in Sol’s head to see the cold Sol B hand her a sandwich and coffee.

Their group chat was undoubtedly noisy, but even more so now. Something in common was how the more chatty ones would ask Sol for advice or chat and strike noisy conversations. She was used to the chaos, but she definitely didn’t feel used to having the attention on her.

As the group had earned different internships from small and large firms, Sol was going to be left in school alone, still applying and hoping for one to come her way. Her study group knew about it, and instead continued to encourage her about it. They avoided talk on their internships, and actively tried to help Sol. While Sol was grateful, she couldn’t help but wish that they would just act normal and not worry about her.

She chose to meet them for breakfast on the day of their internships. The meal was noisy as usual as they ate their sandwiches and gimbaps. They were dressed smartly in their suits with their briefcases. Sol made a fuss over everyone looking smart on their first day.

“Hurry up and eat, you’re going to be late for your internship!” Sol scolded BokGi as he and Yebeom threw comments back and forth. Everyone was off for theirs and ready with their jackets and bags. Walking with them to the door, she couldn’t help but feel like a mom to her kids, sending them to school.

“Noona! Check your table later in the libra-” Yebeom gleefully mused before BokGi clamped his mouth shut and JiHo (with much irritation) smacked his head silently.

“What?” Sol asks, turning to Joon Hwi, who was turning redder by the second. Joon Hwi closes his eyes, the same way he does when he’s embarrassed and looks away from her.

“Listen to Yebeom and check the table.” He says, finally looking at her. “We’ll see you for dinner then.” Waving a quick goodbye, the group walked away from her towards the carpark where they separated to the bus stops or in the direction of the train station.

“O-Okay…” she mutters, still confused as she carries her books and bag to her usual table at the library. She would have went to sulk at Professor Kim’s office for a while, but she instead chose to head straight to study. Professor Kim had enough on her plate and she wasn’t ready just yet to face Professor Kim with her mood.

There, at her table, lies her stack of books.

Normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing out, she slumps her bag on her table, gathering the post its on the bar above the table. Most of them were just plain comments, like how she had to stop slamming her pen into her hand (it distracted students) or move out of the library cause there aren't enough seats. Opening her book on civil code, she was ready to start drilling her head before meeting Professor Kim.

Then she spots an envelope, hidden between the pages of the book.

Carefully, she picks it out and looks on the cream white paper, the only ink on it her name, written in neat handwriting. She could recognise Joon Hwi’s handwriting anywhere. A slight scoff escapes her lips and several students turn in annoyance. Realising that this was probably not the best place to be in, she grabs her books and bags (and the post its) and leaves the library. She heads to the empty study room, where she knows she’s be comfortable at.

Opening the flap, she slips out numerous slips of paper, varying degrees of length and sizes. Some words were neat, some were a little messy.

-----

To: Unnie <3

Sol-unnie, you know you’re smart, right? Your grades may not show that you are the best, but I know you are! Whenever I hear you discuss a case with the study group, I know you’re trying your best to memorise and improve. Don’t give up, unnie! I will support you till the end!

- Yeseul

To: Sol-A noona

Yah, noona! You have to stop injuring yourself, okay? You gave us a really big scare the last time when you started nose bleeding in the midst of study group. Noona, don’t look at your grades anymore! If a man like me can get through law school so far pretty well, you can too! Fighting, noona!

Noona~ you’re really talented. The fact that you scored so well during the criminal law test and managed to spot the comma just shows for amazing you are! Noona, don’t be discouraged... seeing you discouraged makes us sad too. Your favourite dongsaeng is here to help you!

- BokGi and Yebeom

To: Kang Sol-A

You can do it. Review your cases before classes. Get your internship.

-JiHo

To: Sol-A

Live up to your name, will you? And sleep on a regular schedule.

- Roommate

To: Sol

Sunbae, remember me? Stop doubting yourself and trust yourself. You’re smarter than you know and fit for court. I will support you from wherever you are. I’m grateful for you, for supporting me all this time. I think Dan would be proud of you, and so will the cookie Byeol.

Sol, you are worthy in my eyes. So stop undermining yourself. You belong in Hankuk next to me. You can’t give up now.

-Joon Hwi

-----

Sol lets a smile creep on her face as she lets a small blush rise to her face. Holding her letters to her heart, she closes her eyes, reminding herself of the past week and her friend’s efforts to cheer her on. She knew no doubt it had to be Joon Hwi who convinced everyone there to write for her despite their busy schedule. For even Sol B to help out and bother about her, it warmed her heart to have her support.

Picking her book, she pinned her hair up as she started drill into her book with a new found confidence, fuelled by her friends supporting her. But most importantly, she felt worthy. She felt loved. She felt confident. She was hopeful.

(Everyone thinks she’s worthy in their eyes, but one just thinks she’s perfect.)

222 notes · View notes

geocookie21 · 3 years

Text

Sick

I am sick and miserable today and have been feeling needy for Master fics. Also Thirteen fics but let’s start with Master. Dhawan!master to be exact.

——————————————————————

Lying in bed, not able to get comfortable AT ALL and being stuffy is not how you expected this weekend to go.

When the Master dropped you off on Thursday morning you had felt a little run down, with a cough every so often, nothing like this. No, last night, around 1am Saturday morning, your nose decided to get blocked and stay that way no matter how many times you blew it. You felt warm, clammy and uncomfortable no matter what you did. Sniffling and coughing, rubbing your nose and scratching your eyes….you were miserable. And it only got worse as the day went on. Cold medicine on goes so far.

The one thing you wanted? Not really a thing, but a who. You wanted The Master. You didn’t tell him you were sick and you don’t think he noticed when he dropped you off. Why would he notice a total of 3 coughs in the space of several hours anyway? You were home when your illness got worse, thankfully.

You never wanted to seem weak to him, your human so you know what he thinks of your race anyway. You didn’t want to give him an excuse to criticise you further. Not while your sick. Luckily he was away and left you here to fulfil his evil plan. Probably blowing up a planet.

Eyes closed and laughing mentally at the image of the master enjoying himself like a child on Christmas, you failed to hear the low hum of a TARDIS landing (with its breaks off until they are actually needed)

Kicking the blanket off of yourself while coughing meant to missed the sound of TARDIS doors opening. Eyes remaining closed so you didn’t see the extra person in the room. You were glad the Master wasn’t here to see you so miserable and weak. Sure that he’d leave you here forever if he saw you.

Mental energy spent, thinking of the Master, left you falling asleep. Unaware that the extra person in the room was walking slowly towards you. Concern written all over his expression. Now only skirting the edge of consciousness, you felt the cool hand that had placed itself on your forehead. You whines as you leaned your face into it more, trying to cool yourself down. Feeling somehow safe enough not to question the hands origins.

Though you heard it, you weren’t nearly awake enough to hear the concern in the spoken “Foolish human. What have you done to yourself” and you DEFINITELY didn’t notice the gentle hand moving your position to a more comfortable one. Not scrunched up into a ball out of self pity. The cooling hand removed itself, much to your semi-conscious whining, to bring your blanket around you.

The sound of footsteps led to quiet for a minute or two, in which time you had fallen asleep.

The Master returned to your side with a cooling cloth for your forehead and some cold medicine. He had seen what you were taking and threw it out of the window. “It’s not good enough for my human. She needs to be better right now!”

He brought his, Human safe, alien cold medicine to your bedside, he’d have to wait till you woke up so he could monitor you and make sure it works to his liking. Running a mental checklist, his thought halted when you started murmuring. He leaned in closer to hear you, if you were in pain he would wake up up and give you the medicine now. He wasn’t counting on hearing you call out for him. “Master….where” His cold heart melted. Actually melted, his whole expression melted.

“I want…I want master” he couldn’t hold back any longer, you called out for him. You NEEDED him. And he’d be DAMNED if he wasn’t going to be there for his little human when she was so weakly calling out for him. So he climbed into bed next to you and held your head to his heart. Knowing you found comfort in his double heart beat.

It was only an hour later that you roused. Eyes remained closed, you felt where you were. Comfortable beyond belief and mentally subdued, you didn’t quite notice the other presence. Until you coughed. A comforting hand fell to your back, rubbing it up and down and patting you slightly. Another hand with a handkerchief slightly in front of your mouth.

Catching your breath, you opened your eyes. Seeing a chest with a familiar purple vest. (RHYMES!😂) Listening to your surroundings you could hear soft spoken words. “It’s ok love, breath” “hush now, I have you” “easy now. Breathing in a familiar after shave and feeling HIS hand stroking your back you finally looked up to his face.

Dark chocolate eyes locked to yours. Hypnotic intensity keeping you captive as you struggled to regain your breathing. The Master was here, seeing you sick and weak. Your soft whine and small struggle against him caused him to frown a little. ‘Why is she scared of me? What’s wrong?’ He thought he had hurt you. He would never hurt his little human.

“Sh..shh..shh what’s wrong? It’s ok, I’ve got you little one” his soft spoken words calmed you to a stop. Yet you still whined and hid your face.

“Come now, tell your Master. Let me take care of my human” your hand reaching towards his second heart and grabbing at his shirt, a move you only did when you felt small and nervous.

Aided by his soft commands, you found the strength to speak. I say you found it, it was his strength, you only submitted to it. “I’m weak. I’m weaker than normal and you’re going to leave me” chocking on a sob before you finished your sentence.

Widening eyes at your tears led to a coo of comfort from your master. His own human, thinking herself weak? How could the universe be so cruel. “Love, even I get sick. After a regeneration I need a day or two before I can even stand! And to think you were looking after yourself before I came back. You are not weak, little human. And I am never leaving you here.” bloodshot eyes met chocolate at his reassurance. And unspoken promise of safety and belonging. Silent negotiations came to an end with the Master reaching for the cold medicine, determined to cure his human. “Open for me love. This will help” his own mouth opening slightly to encourage you. Not that you needed much encouragement, you trusted him not to poison you. “So obedient. Good girl. You’ve earned a reward” despite the redness, your eyes began to glow with joy.

He leaned back, pulling you with him. Curling up to him with a gentle hum, your heavy eyelids still locked to your Masters face, eager to hear your reward. A pleased smile crossed the Masters expression, speaking soft as to not rouse you from your sleepy state. “There’s a planet, with a pink sunset that lasts 54 hours. Mountains made of rocks so soft, they may as well be pillows. Air so clear that your lungs feel brand new. You’ve done so well to take care of yourself. Next time, however, you call me. Let Master take care of you now. I know better ways to make my human well again. So rest, Master has you now”

You couldn’t tell is he had actually hypnotised you to sleep, or if you were really tired from your cold. But his voice lulled you to a comfortable sleep. Safe with the knowledge that your Master would take care of you. And he was never going to leave you.

#doctor who #dhawan!master #the master x reader #the master #dhawan!master x reader

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charlthotte · 4 years

Text

Breaking Through the Iron Wall - Aone Takanobu x Reader

Chapter 12

Normally, sharing silence with Aone was a rather comfortable endeavour, but there was something about that walk home that churned the silence into something petrifying. In fact, most of my time spent with him was in silence - however something inside me yearned to hear him speak - to let me know that he wasn't completely shattered. Yet, I didn't want to break the leering silence in trepidation of something unknown to me. Almost at that very second, Aone took on that burden for me... "(Y/N), am I a bad person?" He questioned in a meek manner.

I halted all movements upon hearing that, "No... Not at all... Why would you think that?"

His anguished face stared at the pavement, pausing for a small eternity, "I-I don't know..." He sucked in a shaky breath, "Never mind."

"Hey..." I almost cooed, lifting his head up to face him with an equally quivering hand, "You can tell me anything you know, speak what ever is on your mind, Aone." Glossing over with tears, his eyes released a single tear down his reddened cheek. Gently, I wiped that droplet away with my thumb. Ever so valiantly, I tried to smile up at him - trying to offer the smallest inkling of comfort that I could muster.

Sighing through his nose, he uttered heart-wrenching words to me, "It's my fault that Shiro's sick. Maybe if I-I did something... then..." By then, he was close to spluttering out in the middle of the street. Until, I held a finger up to his quivering lips and shushed him.

"Listen to me." I said in a rather stern tone, "Nothing to do with this is your fault. Nothing at all. I know you feel like you could have helped Shiro somehow. But... The world is a cruel place - especially for pure souls like you." I attempted to compose myself for a second, scared of crying also, "You love him more than life itself and you would do anything for him; I know this better than anyone else. I also know that you're worried like hell right now. So... Please do me and Shiro a favour and try to be happy for the both of us..."

As if on cue, Shiro began nuzzling on Aone's leg. And, upon seeing that, Aone let out an agonised smile.

"Let's get you boys home then" I spoke, trying to sound a part more peppy to raise the spirits of the sinking atmosphere. Shiro wagged his tail gleefully. It was rather tragic that he was the happy one in that situation, but even so we journeyed on back to the place he'd call home.

Since that short spurt of a conversation, the heavy silence had released its relentless grip on our shoulders - letting us revel in the now almost glorious yet tragic silence.

That had been the first time I had been to his house, but it didn't seem like the nerve-wracking situation that it should have. We both hung up our coats and took our shoes off, almost as I lived there. And, as soon as Aone relieved Shiro of his harness - he trotted instantly onto the sofa - curling up in a messily strewn pile of blankets. Seeing him burrowed in them was a truly wonderful sight.

I instructed Aone to sit done with Shiro while I made him a cool glass of water, and while I did so, my eyes surveyed around his house. Nothing in there seemed out of place - it was simply spotless - as if the only residents were ghosts. Letting my mind drift, I wondered if the rest of the house was that pristine - especially Aone's bedroom. Those thoughts filled me up the the point that I didn't notice the water flowing over the confines of the glass. Cursing under my breath, I wiped the rouge water droplets from the sides of the glass.

As I walked in the room - a weighty aura surrounded me - once again the silence turned sour. Beside Shiro, lay Aone - with them almost looking into each other's eyes; it would have been an adorable sight if it wasn't for the words that Aone was whispering directly to his companion.

A heavy stream of "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." spewed from between Aone's lips. Even though I had explained that he had nothing to be sorry for earlier - he obviously paid no mind to my words of comfort. Placing the glass onto the coffee table, I crouched in front of the sofa - ready to become his pillar once again.

"Aone... Please listen to me. Please don't say you're sorry - you have nothing to be sorry for." Whilst speaking those words, I struggled to make eye contact with him - in fear that I'd simply just breakdown, "Please just try not to put yourself at blame for this. There's nothing you could have done. " My voice began to get shakier, "And, I know you want to put this all right, hell - so do I. But sometimes, the world just works in cruel ways - and we have no power to change that... Now I know that what I'm saying is probably just hurting you even more. So, please, please, please, please, please try not to blame yourself for any of this. I don't know what I'll do if something bad happens to you. I'm just... so sorry, Takanobu." By that point, my head was in my hands, concealing the slow flow of tears rolling over my eyes.

That had been the first time I had called him by his first name - usually something that shows your closeness to someone - but really... It highlighted my desperateness. My breaths became slightly more laboured than usual, as my shoulders shook up and down.

In response to my small soliloquy, all he could muster was an abrupt, "I'm sorry." before breaking down yet again - hiccupping at an unkempt rhythm, curling into a ball as if he was trying to make himself disappear.

I reached my hand up to his head - running my hand through the tips of his hair, trying to soothe him like a lamenting child. Parting his lips, his breath hitched as he tried to curtail his sobs, and whilst nearly choking up again - he spluttered the words, "I just don't know what to do..." Seemingly, that was all he could muster before his shoulders shook with his laboured breaths. It really broke my heart to see him like that - a broken wreck of a man.

By the time his tears had halted, the night had drew a pitch cloak over the sky - casting ghostly shadows all over his living room. That entire time, neither of us uttered a single word; we simply sat as the hours passed us by - waiting for something to happen.

Given that I had been gone for several hours, a text message from my dad popped up on my phone... "(Y/N), where are you? It's dark outside and I'm worried that you're out somewhere up to dastardly deeds. Just reply soon, okay? :)"

I laughed down at my screen, Dad of course being himself. It was almost funny.

"Sorry, Dad. I'm just helping a friend out with their issues, I don't think you should expect me home tonight. They really need someone to be with them right now. See you later."

Aone must have been looking over my shoulder at the text, as he finally spoke up, "You can go home if you want to..." He almost whispered as his tired and gravelly voice flew straight into my ears.

Sighing under my breath, I explained to him exactly what I would be doing, "I think I'll stay here a bit longer, I don't think you can be left alone tonight. If that's okay with you..." If it wasn't for the dark shadows cast across the room, he probably would have noticed the reddish hue spread across my cheeks.

"Oh, uh... sure... That's fine..." He stuttered, hesitating between each word. At least he didn't offer me any opposition.

Straight after Aone had finished talking, my phone lit up once again, "Ohhh, okay. I get you. Just be safe, kiddo. ;)" Slamming my phone back onto the coffee table immediately, I internally screamed. He'd taken it entirely the wrong way. But, of course he did - he was my dad - flourishing the final line of his text with a damn winking face. I really hoped that Aone didn't see that message.

After leaving a certain amount of time to pass, I finally picked up my phone again, "Dad, no. It's nothing like that - just see you tomorrow."

---

I must have fallen asleep next to Aone's sofa, as the next time I checked the time - it read close to 1AM. Sleeping on the floor wasn't exactly comfortable, so I shifted over to a smaller sofa on the adjacent side of the room. That wasn't too comfortable either - but special people come before your own comfort.

---

The next time I woke, light had already began to flood into the room through the sheer curtains - illuminating Aone and Shiro's figures - both still curled up together - both still equally adorable. Seeing them together almost made my heart skip a beat or two. Aone seemed so peaceful when he slept, a stark difference to the last state he had been in - his face was almost picture perfect - you could even call it delicate.

As more and more light shone into the room, both sleeping figures began to stir. Shiro first, beckoning that he wanted to go outside. When opening the door leading to the outside, the sun encompassed my skin - the subdued heat making everything around me glow. The small, furry creature began bounding around the garden - completely unaware of his looming fate.

Sensing something coming up behind me, I was almost startled - breaking me from the Sun's bliss. And of course, it was Aone - rubbing his tired eyes, yawning from his presumed fatigue. "You feeling any better?" I asked, sighing through the sentence.

All he said in response was a simple, "Mhm." Obviously not feeling the need for elaborate conversation.

Making me jump once again - Aone's arms snaked around me, gently rocking me as he did so, "Thank you for yesterday, it means a lot." It felt strange that his emotions were now all in check - but it was perfectly assuring that he hadn't lost himself just yet.

Being wrapped in his arms was rather comforting to me, or really - it felt perfect. I felt perfectly safe, as if just his arms were protecting me from the rest of the world - I wanted to stay there forever. And as I said my response, he rested his chin on the top of my head, "Don't mention it, you just needed someone to be with you."

Upon hearing that, his arms tightened around me - as if he didn't want me to leave either.

But of course, nothing is infinite - so it had to come to a close soon, perhaps too soon. My phone began vibrating relentlessly from the coffee table. I made a quick scuffle over to it - expecting a call from my dad - but instead I received a slew of furious messages and missed calls from my mother - commanding me to answer her. Filled with apprehension, I pressed the button that allowed me to accept her call, I was not looking forward to her stern tone at all...

"(Y/N), this is completely unacceptable. How dare you leave our house without my permission - you didn't even tell me where you were going. Come home this instant." And with that, she hung up, without leaving me a single second to explain myself. Judging from the volume of my mother's voice - Aone already knew what was going on. In a flash, I had acquired my shoes and jacket upon me, and just as I was about to leave - Aone appeared behind me again - wrapping me in a vice like hug, resting his chin upon my head again. I was right, he didn't want me to leave.

"Thank you, (Y/N)." He whispered into the top of my head.

"You're welcome, Takanobu." I whispered back into his chest. And after savouring that hug for the longest time we could, I departed from his house - ushering myself away whilst waving to a beaming Aone and an ecstatic Shiro at their front door. That was really a night to remember.

---

Throughout the entire walk home, my mind sat in a comfortable silence - only stopping to admire the scenery around me. However, as I stepped up to my front door - one thought popped into my head, "Why weren't Aone's parents at his house?"

---

(A/N) Sorry that there's been a huge wait between this and the last chapter - I'm trying my best - but I'm trying to get through this story as quickly as possible - which may mean a certain event comes up in the story in three days time...

#aone #aone takanobu #aone x reader #aone takanobu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader

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sunsetinmyvein · 4 years

Text

I Know That I’ll Lose - Chapter Two - Distract My Brain

She had finally gotten home at about 1am that morning once everything from the show had been sorted and dealt with. Leaving her pretty much no time to process what a chaotic day it had been before she crawled into bed and passed out. At 6:18am she was rudely awoken by her phone incessantly buzzing. She rolled over with a groan to investigate what on earth was so important. Eight unread texts from a single number that she still had yet to save in her phone, and for how Matty was travelling at the moment he was about to have his number blocked. As soon as she started scrolling through the messages her phone started ringing. She answered without looking, knowing full well who it was.

“What, Matty?” She asked, the annoyance thick in her tone.

“You weren’t answering my texts.” He answered simply.

Fucking read receipts… “Because it’s six in the morning. I was asleep.” She mumbled in anger; her voice half muffled by the fact that her face was pressed into her pillow.

“Oh… Is it?” He asked absent-mindedly, she could hear shuffling on the other end of the line. “Jetlag is a wonderful thing.” He laughed.

“Go. To. Sleep.” She ordered as she hung up the phone and put it back on her bedside table. Her phone buzzed once more after she hung up, simply with an address and a time. She took a brief glance at it. 10am. That was manageable.

After a couple more hours of patchy sleep, and thankfully no more text messages, she finally got out of bed and got her shit together. The address he had given her ended up being a hotel, and it seemed to be a pretty snazzy one from what she could see in the lobby. Lots of gold trimming on things, a fountain in the centre of the room, a five-star restaurant, the works. They even had some glass thing near the check in desk filled with iced water with chunks of lemon in it. As she was distracted looking around the expensive ground floor of the building, she felt a hand land on her shoulder. For a brief moment she half expected it to be a hotel employee about to ask her to leave for loitering, but she turned around to be greeted by a grinning Matty. He was in much more casual clothes than the last time she had seen him in the stage suit; ripped jeans, a plain shirt, dark glasses. His hair however looked like he hadn’t touched it since he came off stage.

“Did you sleep at all after the show?” She asked, eyeing his sunglasses and the bed head look.

“A bit.” He shrugged. “I’m sure I would’ve slept better with company.” He added with a suggestive look over the frame of his glasses.

“I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have.” She shot back with an eyeroll. He laughed at that, opening his mouth to throw in another witty comeback, but she figured she’d stop that conversation before it started. “Anyway, where are we going? What is this shit that you have to do today?”

He pulled a small slip of paper out of his pocket and read over the information scribbled on it. “We are going to some radio station for an on-air interview thing at twelve, and then there’s another one somewhere else at three.” He answered, starting to walk towards the doors of the lobby.

She glanced back towards the elevators before following him, “Are the rest of the band coming?”

“No. Those dickheads got to go home last night. They only want me for the interviews.” He huffed.

They stepped out onto the pavement outside the hotel and Matty took a moment to take in his surroundings. “All right, so this is the address we’re going to first,” He said as he handed the slip of paper to her, “you gotta get us there and keep an eye on the time so that I’m not late to this thing.”

She stared at the paper for a second, before looking back at him with a frown. “Why?”

“Because I am entrusting you with this very delicate task.” He said as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it.

“Don’t you have, I dunno, a babysitter or something to sort this stuff out for you?”

He took a deep drag before speaking, “Nah, they didn’t give me anyone to sort out my shit on this tour.” He said with a shrug. “So, you’re stuck with me.”

Her frown deepened, “I never agreed to that.”

“Well, you can always go home if you’re not having fun.” He pointed out.

There was a long pause between them as she mulled over her options. Go home and do the work that she had put off doing, or hang out with the charismatic lead singer of a band she quite liked. Eventually she muttered under her breath, “It’s this way to the train station.”

They walked down the street silently for a few brief moments. Matty was happy just taking in the sights of a new area, the different architecture, the brief glimpses of culture. Travelling was a perk of his job that he very much enjoyed. She was noticing pretty quickly that Matty was a very expressive guy, it was pretty easy to see where his attention was and how engaged he was in whatever he was doing. He took another drag on his cigarette before holding it out to her.

“Tobacco?” She asked as she stared down at the offer. He nodded. She shook her head lightly, “No thanks.” They took another few steps down the street as the gears turned in his head, processing her answer.

“Is that implying that you smoke other things?” He questioned eventually. She deliberated on her answer, giving a noncommittal noise in response. His eyebrows shot up in amusement, “What would’ve made you say yes?”

“I might have considered it if it was weed.” She answered truthfully.

“Scandalous. I will need to remember this important information.” He replied as he snuffed out his cigarette with his shoe. She chuckled quietly next to him, forcing a grin out of him. She hadn’t exactly looked (or sounded over the phone) happy to see him again, it was nice to know that maybe he didn’t drag her out here for nothing. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For?” She asked.

“For coming with me today.” He elaborated. “Things go a lot smoother for me with company.”

“Oh,” She hadn’t been expecting him to sound so grateful about that. “It’s no problem.”

Matty hadn’t anticipated that the train station would be as close to his hotel as it was, and despite his attempts to suggest a taxi or something, she had reassured him that the offices that they were going were right in front of a different train station, so it was far more convenient to use public transport than to have to wait for someone to arrive to get them. He figured he had to trust her judgement, otherwise what was the point of asking for help from someone who actually lived here? They sat down on the train, him sitting across the aisle from her; partially because the train was fairly full, partially as an excuse for him to be able to look at her through his shades without her being able to tell if he was staring out of the window or not. As he overanalysed everything about the last twenty-four hours, he eventually remembered that he had brought something to give to her. She had been looking out the window when she suddenly found a piece of black fabric hurtling towards her head. She caught it, albeit ungracefully, and as she pulled it away from her face she realised it was a hoodie. A 1975 hoodie. She gave him a look of confusion as she held it up.

“You were keen on getting a hoodie, so I grabbed you one.” He explained with a casual shrug.

That didn’t lessen her confusion any. “From where? All of the remaining stock got sent back?”

“From my suitcase.” He said as though it was the most obvious fact in the world.

She looked down at the hoodie. It looked well worn, and it wasn’t a design that was being sold at the show last night. “Is this yours?” She asked after a long moment of silence. She looked back up at Matty, seeing him staring down at his phone.

“Not anymore.” He said simply. She was not overly fond of the warm, fuzzy feeling she had in her chest about this knowledge. But she shoved the article of clothing into her bag regardless.

The train station that they needed was only a few stops down the line, and they arrived in front of the building the interview was being held in with plenty of time to spare. He checked the time on his phone. They had nearly an hour and a half to kill. “Now what? I didn’t think that this place would be so close.” He sighed, lifting up his sunglasses to rub at his eyes.

“Well, I know a really good café nearby.” She suggested, glancing around at how busy the area was. Thankfully most of the people on the train hadn’t gotten off with them, there must be an event happening somewhere else. It should be pretty safe.

He hummed in agreement, nodding to himself. “Good idea. This is why I needed you to keep me company today. I could go for a coffee, and you probably need one.” He grabbed his wallet, handing her his credit card. “My shout for waking you up early.”

“Damn right it is.” She laughed as she took the card.

It only took a couple of minutes before they approached the unsuspecting shop front. He made a beeline for the menu, trying to work out what would keep his mind best sorted for this interview. He felt like a coffee but he preferred tea most of the time, and coffee might make him too jittery and his thoughts too rapid. He didn’t have as much time when things were being aired live to consider his answers. In the back of his mind he heard her paying for their order, clearly deciding for him what he should have. He supposed that was one less thing to have to worry about. She came and stood next to him, holding his credit card back out to him. “All right, you gotta take your shoes off.” She said as he slipped the card back into his wallet.

“Huh? Why?” He frowned. She pointed in the direction of the back of the café towards a small room with a glass wall. Inside it looked… more or less like a lounge room? With couches and a TV and coffee tables. Except there were many, many cats.

“Wait… is this one of those cat café things?” Matty asked, quickly taking a worried glance around the front of the shop. She nodded as she kicked her shoes off. “Aren’t those super popular?” He was beginning to get anxious now. Big crowds weren’t really his thing. He hadn’t exactly prepared to be professional until his interview and had sort of hoped that the shades would be enough to give him privacy until then. He didn’t want to be forced to be on his best behaviour if he didn’t have to be.

“Normally.” She seemed entirely unphased by his distress.

“Maybe we should go somewhere else then.” He suggested, scratching at the side of his curly hair. He was already trying to think of a way to back track out of this situation. Maybe he shouldn’t have relied on a stranger to sort out his day for him. That was potentially a bad decision on his part.

“Why?” She asked.

“Well, it’s just that if there’s going to be a lot of people then potentially someone might recognise me and especially if I’m going to be stuck in a room with them for a while I just don’t really know how well that is going to go because I wasn’t thinking that I’d have to be-” His words came out in a garbled rush, and eventually she interrupted him to stop him from freaking out.

She shushed him for a moment, putting her hand on his shoulder to pull him out of his thoughts for a second. “I bought all of the tickets for an hour.” She said. He stared at her in surprise, his brain trying to catch up to how exactly that would assist him.

“What?” He asked, still wide-eyed and worried.

“Nobody else can come in for an hour, I paid to book the place out.” She explained.

He understood what she meant now. But as soon as the understanding washed over him, so did the realisation that she hadn’t paid for anything. “Hey, wait! I didn’t say you could do that!”

“I thought someone as incredibly famous-” Her voice was laced with sarcasm at that part, “as you would prefer this to a café where it was just open to whoever.” She had already stowed all of her stuff away in some tiny cubby system that they had and was putting hand sanitiser on.

“Well… I do. But that’s beside the point!” He tried to be annoyed, but he just found himself laughing. It felt pretty nice knowing that he wasn’t going to be interrupted for the next little while, though it felt nicer knowing that she’d considered him before dragging him somewhere.

The inside of the room that the cats were in was very homely. Lots of blankets and pillows thrown over plush lounge suites, it was pretty much built for comfort. Minus all of the shelves on the wall everywhere that Matty thought might be a concussion hazard for him if he wasn’t paying attention. Once he was sitting down on one of the couches it was much easier for him to calm himself down from the height of panic he had built up in his mind. He took a few moments to just breathe, watching as she walked straight over to one of the cats and sat down next to it. She looked like she was talking to it but he couldn’t hear what she was saying from where he was situated. The room had quiet background music playing, but other than that it was incredibly quiet. Peaceful. The glass window blocked out most of the noise from the busy street outside. It wasn’t long before the order that she had placed was carried in on a little tray by the person who had served them. He spied two decent sized drinks and two muffins. He hadn’t even considered if he was hungry or not but upon the sight of food his stomach clearly remembered that it hadn’t had breakfast, growling in approval. Y/N/N grabbed the two drinks with a quick thank you and walked over to where Matty was still sitting.

“I know you said you felt like a coffee but I dunno, I just felt like a tea might sit better?” She said as she passed him one of the two cups. “And the interview is right over lunch so I figured some food would be nice.” She gestured to the two muffins sitting on the table.

“Thanks.” He said as he beamed up at her. “A good decision on all accounts.” A contented feeling settled itself in his chest. He figured he probably didn’t want to think about the origins of that right now. Putting it down to being in the moment, he changed the topic. “You know these cats?” He asked around a mouthful of muffin as he looked over to an orange one that was approaching him.

“Yeah. Been coming here for a while.” She sighed, taking a seat next to him on the couch. “Since it opened actually.” She reached out to pat it.

“Customer loyalty. I like it.” He commented as he took a sip of his drink.

“Sucker for felines, more like.” She scoffed.

They sat in a comfortable silence, exchanging the odd comment here and there. Mostly she just ignored him and sat with various cats within the café. So, he just watched her and enjoyed her enthusiasm for the animals as he finished his drink and muffin. The peace and quiet was nice, and the even nicer company put him in a better mood than he would’ve expected it to. Being surrounded by cats was also surprisingly enjoyable - they held a comforting nature about them. He held nothing against the animals, they just weren’t a personal favourite. The café had done a good job of filling the time and brought them to quarter to twelve by the time they arrived back at the radio station offices.

“I’ll just wait out the front for you.” She had said as he approached the doors.

“No, no. You have to come with me.” He protested, grabbing her hand and urging her to come with him.

“Nuh uh, no way.” She pulled her hand back, shaking her head. “You said I was here just to kill time in between your interviews.” She reminded him.

“I can’t face those savages in there alone.” He said with a pout.

They were in a stand-off for a moment, neither of them wanting to give in. She didn’t overly want to be pulled in any further to the antics that Matthew Healy seemed to create simply by being in a room. Finally, she rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan. “Fine, I’ll come with you.” She said, watching as an excited grin made its way across his face. “But I am in no way being affiliated with your press stuff.” She added sternly.

“I can’t promise what wild conclusions they will jump to about a rock star walking in with a girl on his arm.” He flipped his shades back over his eyes as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and dragged her through the doors with him.

“Let go of me.” She huffed as she shoved him in the chest. He just laughed loudly and took his arm away, but she didn’t stand any less close.

They signed in at the front desk, scrawling a few details into some random clipboard. Matty had told her to just write down his label name under her reason for being with him. After that they were ushered down some hallways into a studio and told to wait outside until they were waved through. It wasn’t that long before that happened, and straight away Matty went and took the empty seat at the other side of the room next to one of the mics, slipping the large headset on. He seemed like he’d done this a million times, but she supposed he probably had. So, she just stood back near the door and leant against the wall until he was done. The interview seemed pretty stock standard to any other interview she had ever heard: chat about the new album, chat about the hits that are being played at the moment, ask how tour is going and how he enjoys the city. It wasn’t until they got into the parts about his drug addiction and Matty started cranking out his extensive vocabulary that it seemed to be quite a revealing escapade. But he seemed unphased the whole time he spoke about quite personal topics.

“We asked our listeners what they wanted to know when you were on the show, Matty, and we have had a few fan questions sent in.” The radio presenter pulled out a small stack of cards from next to his screen.

“Go for it.” Matty nodded. He’d had pretty much everything thrown at him in interviews by this point in his career.

“What has been your favourite show of the tour?” He asked.

He thought about this for a couple of seconds, smiling down at the mic. “Last night was pretty good.” He shrugged.

“Ah, you’re only just saying that because you’re still here!” The presenter guy said with a casual laugh. He just shrugged in response, opting not to elaborate on his answer. “Which is your favourite of your tattoos?” He continued as he read one of his cards.

“The one on my chest for my nana.” He answered confidently as he pointed at it.

The presenter let out a low chuckle, pausing for a second before leading into his next question, “Your favourite sexual position?”

He laughed loudly with a scoff, “Nah, you’re not having that.”

“That’s the answer you won’t tell them?” She mumbled quietly from the other side of the studio, only half listening as she stared down at her phone while she waited. He’d told them just about everything else at this point, why was that where he had stopped? After that Matty found himself tuning out the interviewer, fishing around in his pocket for his phone and quickly typing out a text message.

“It’s just all about balance, y’know?” He answered offhandedly, having not heard the question he was answering at all. The interviewer seemed happy enough with his answer, though. She saw the text message preview as soon as it came through.

12:13pm Why tell you when I could show you?

How in the hell had he even heard her from across the room with a headset on? She knew full well as soon as she read it that he was watching her - she could feel his stare practically drilling a hole through her skull. When she eventually looked across the room at him, the smile on his face was somewhere between smug and suggestive. She blushed and went back to looking at her phone in silence until he was finally done.

He said his goodbyes and walked out of the interview, flashing a shit eating grin her way as they started walking back the way they had come. “So…” He started, drawing it out as he leaned towards her. “How was your first interview?”

“Fuck you.” She muttered, refusing to meet his insistent gaze.

He gave a short laugh. “You could if you’d like.” He said as he nudged her shoulder. “That was the point.”

“You’re literally insufferable.” She continued.

“But yet, here you still are.” His grin was unwavering as he said bye to the receptionist on their way out. “Waiting for me to finish the interview. Waiting for me after the show.”

“Quite possibly the worst.” They had reached the door at this point, and she was half tempted to go home just to stick it to him.

“I am arrogant, pretentious, egotistical and a right wanker sometimes. I can beat you to the punch on all of that, I know all these things already.” He lit another cigarette as they stood on the side of the road. She just looked up at him, shaking her head.

“Who lets you get away with being like this?” She asked in disbelief.

He let go of the smoke he was holding in his lungs before speaking, “People who enable me.” He said with a pointed look in her direction. He was right. She hadn’t left yet. Which wasn’t exactly the right conditioning for discouraging negative behaviours. Why hadn’t she left yet? She was suddenly reminded of all of the thoughts that she had been shoving to the back of her mind. “Fancy a drink before the next interview?” He asked before she could think about it for too long.

She nodded enthusiastically, “I feel like I fucking need one.”

They had nearly two hours until the second interview, which wasn’t too far away from where they already were. As much as she had no idea where the address was exactly, she was sure it wouldn’t be too difficult to locate. Worst comes to worst; Uber was a thing. She let him do the navigating to find a bar that they could get a drink in. It wasn’t long before he found one that he deemed suitable enough. It seemed to have some classic vibes with lots of wooden accents. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever actually been there before. They both took a seat up at the bar. “What’s your poison? Wine?” He suggested, looking over at her for approval.

She shook her head, “No.” He let out an offended gasp.

“Whiskey?” He asked instantly with an eyebrow raised.

She made an active gagging noise, “God no.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Vodka?” He finally proposed as the bartender walked over.

“Now we’re talking.” She nodded. He ordered a vodka and coke for each of them, tapping his glass to hers before taking a swig of it.

They finished their first drink in silence and he instantly ordered a second round. An outsider would’ve assumed by the speed that they were drinking, that they were two people looking to drown their sorrows. But it was more like two people trying to sort out what the hell was happening in their own minds. Matty always went through phases of inner reflection, this was no different to the other numerous times he had already done it today. Just this time he had the drink that he wanted to have during all the other times. He had a vague idea of where his head was at but currently wasn’t sure of his overall motives in the grand scheme of things. Y/N/N sat there trying to establish what had happened since the night prior, working out where this whole thing was going to leave her. The outlook seemed bleak. “Matty?” She asked eventually.

“Mm?” He looked across to her.

She swallowed her nerves as best she could to confront the question that had been bothering her the most: “What is your end game with this?”

“With what?” He asked innocently.

“This.” She gestured between them. He let out a silent ‘oh’. It was a question that he himself had been trying to avoid, as well. “Eventually, you go home, right? And last I checked; you weren’t single.”

He raised his eyebrows at her comment, “You’ve checked?” He asked in amusement.

“No, I-” She started, letting out a huff of annoyance. “That’s not what you’re meant to take away from that.”

“But it is what I’m taking away from that.” He all but giggled. “You’ve googled if I was single or not.” She swatted his hand away before he could bother her more than he already was.

“It’s just an expression.” She argued.

“Is it, though?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

“Matty,” She said finally, the tone in her voice catching his attention. “would you just be serious for five seconds?”

“I, erm…” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Yeah, sorry.” He nodded finally, taking a large gulp of his drink and clearing his throat.

“So?” She prompted. He took in a few slow breaths, thinking of the best words to get his thoughts out coherently. It was a couple of moments of silence before he finally spoke, staring down at the bar as he did so.

“I don’t enjoy being vulnerable to people, not right off the bat and especially not during work - song writing being the exception, obviously. It makes my job a lot harder than it has to be, to be like that in interviews and during shows. Truly vulnerable, I mean. All of the heroin addiction and rehab stuff, that’s all already out there at this point. Half of the skeletons in my closet are already in my songs or in the headlines.” Matty waved his hand dismissively, “I have practically already scripted answers to deal with a lot of that shit... But the shit that I don’t want people finding out? Where my head and heart are at any given time? It’s easier to hide behind arrogance and my ego than to admit that stuff. Like how people say they’re fine when really, they’re not, so that people don’t ask them difficult questions. If they think I’m a bit of a dickhead, they think those things don’t matter to me. Doing that and having good company,” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “makes it easier for me to not have to think about things that drag me down. That’s why I was grateful that you came out with me today.”

She took a moment to process his answer. “As much as the transparency about why you’re such a twat sometimes is appreciated, that doesn’t answer the original question.” She reminded.

“Well, to answer the simple ones first: I am meant to fly back home tonight and to satisfy your creepy googling,” She kicked his shin at that remark, earning a short chuckle out of him. “I am single. My girlfriend left me a couple of months ago. You have to keep that to yourself, though.” He admitted quietly. There was a long moment of silence between them, he was clearly not fully ready to deal with that yet. She felt like maybe she should offer some form of condolences, but when she opened her mouth to do so he continued. “See? This is what I meant about being vulnerable. Now I feel shitty.” He laughed.

She decided it might be easier on the both of them to skip the ‘I’m sorry to hear that’s and move along. “And? The other bit?” She asked.

He let out a heavy sigh. “I enjoy your company and being around you, but not to be that guy and quote my own shit-” He started.

“Are you trying to say that you aren’t that guy normally?” She interrupted.

“You said you wanted to be serious.” He pointed out. She nodded, mumbling a quick ‘sorry’. “And I definitely am that guy, but - it seems that lately, if I choose, then I lose. If I tell you to go away, I end up by myself in a city I don’t know looking for an escape from my thoughts. If I tell you to stay, I’m leading you on, aren’t I?” He questioned, finishing the rest of his drink and calling the bartender over for another.

She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

“Are you?” He looked over at her to elaborate. “Leading me on?” She wasn’t overly sure what she wanted his answer to be, but hearing his response would probably help her get her own brain in order.

“Truthfully? I don’t really know the answer to that.” He confessed with a shrug. The mood had dropped since this particular conversation had begun between them. The drinks flowed quietly for a few more minutes, the sounds of the bar and the street nearby filling the void. He was halfway through his fourth now and she was just starting her third. She had no idea where his answers left her. To be honest, she felt it was probably still in much the same place that she had been in fifteen minutes ago: still confused and unsure what the next step was if he wanted to keep acting how he was.

“Sorry that I couldn’t offer you a solid answer there.” Matty apologised. She looked over at him to see him looking quite sorry for himself as he stared into his glass. His sunglasses on his head were not doing a good job of keeping his hair out of his eyes, and his typical jovial demeanour that she was getting used to was nowhere to be seen. “My life isn’t really in a spot to be making grand plans right now. At the moment I’m just trying to make it to next week in one piece.” He explained before glancing up to meet her gaze, holding it for a moment before speaking, “And I feel like you wanted a different reaction.”

She tried to work out what would’ve happened in her own mind had he given a definitive answer. Had he said he wasn’t interested and he was just flirting for the sake of it? That was fine. She’s known this guy for one day, it’s no skin off her back to forget about him once he leaves. Had it turned out that he was just trying to get in her pants for a fling while he was away on tour? She probably wasn’t about to say yes to it, but it would’ve at least been reassuring to know where his head was at. Had he been legitimately interested, though? That was the one that stumped her. And the fact that he was unable to confirm which of the three he actually wanted left her with more questions than answers. At the end of the day he wanted company in some capacity, but she wanted to know if providing that was going to leave her worse for wear at the end of the day. “I don’t actually know what I wanted out of that question.”

“What is your end game? Why are you out here drinking with troubled musicians?” He asked, taking a swig of his drink for emphasis.

“I… am not really sure.” She confessed.

A snigger fell from his lips, “What do you mean you’re not sure?” He was used to people trying to take advantage of having someone of celebrity status around. To not have some ulterior motive was unusual to say the least.

“I sort of just tried to ignore it until about twenty minutes ago.” She explained.

He let out a spluttered laugh of surprise, “What?”

“You came on really strong really fast and I was in no way prepared to deal with that!” She threw her hands up defensively, trying her best to not sound as hopeless about it as she felt. But she did find herself chuckling along with him. “I just tried to forget about it and go with the flow until I worked out what you were trying to do.”

“How could you ask me that question without having an answer yourself?” He accused her in between his laughs.

“You started it!” She said as she poked him harshly in the shoulder. “I figured you had a plan!”

He nearly fell off of his barstool at that from how hard he was laughing, “It’s the fucking blind leading the blind out here.” At that, they were both in stitches from the amount of laughter falling from their lips. It felt good to have the tense atmosphere begin to dissipate and for things to start to feel like they had been.

As their laughter died down, Matty tried to get the conversation at least kind of back on the rails. “So, if you don’t know what you want at the end, what do you want now?” He asked.

“Well, you go home tonight. Nothing can happen in one night.” She answered with a shrug.

He let out a loud scoff, “Plenty of things can happen in one night. Especially if you know what you’re doing.” He added with a suggestive look.

“How has nobody gotten you in trouble for how you act?” She asked with a shake of her head.

“Us rock stars get away with some incredible things.” He flipped his shades back down over his eyes as he said it, as if to prove a point that he was a proper celebrity. “If there was more time?” He continued.

“But there’s not.”

“Hypothetically.”

“Matty-”

“Indulge me.”

She let out a deep sigh, trying not to be swayed by the excitement swirling in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe something could come of it, if you knew what you wanted.” His smile split into a grin so she cut him off before he could say anything more. “Maybe. I like your company so I wouldn’t rule it out.” She glanced down at her phone, catching sight of the time.

“I’ll take that. Maybe is good.” He nodded, mostly saying it to himself.

“We gotta get going if you’re gonna make it to this other interview.” She said as she stood up from the bar. He glanced from her back to their empty drinks still on the counter.

“We can’t just stay and keep drinking?” He asked in disappointment.

“I mean… It’s your interview. I can do whatever I want.” She said with a short laugh. He got up from his chair and grabbed his things, starting to head for the door.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go. Come on.” He grumbled as he rolled his eyes. As they stepped outside, he pulled the slip of paper out of his pocket again to verify the details. “I don’t like written interviews.” He said mostly to himself as he scrunched up his face in distaste. He followed after her as she started walking in the direction that he assumed was towards the building he needed to be in shortly. “They take what I say out of context too frequently and easily.”

“Gotta grab the readers with those catchy headlines and that mis-quoted information.” She joked, nudging him with her elbow.

He let out a sarcastic laugh in response before speaking, “Half of the time I’m sure it’s because they can’t spell the words I’ve used.”

“You have to dumb it down for them, Matty.” She explained, “Lowest common denominator and all that.”

He laughed at her comment. “But that’s not me. I’m the pretentious twat, remember?”

“Like you’d ever let me forget it.” She said with a mocking smile, he just smiled back warmly.

The office that the second interview was being held in wasn’t as close as the first was, but it was still within walking distance. Matty had spent most of the walk trying to remember his best airtight answers that couldn’t be chopped and changed. They got there with fifteen minutes to spare.

“You’re allowed to wait out the front for this one.” He said quietly as he snuffed out the cigarette he had been smoking on their walk under his shoe.

“Gee, thanks.” She scoffed.

“No, I…” He started as he turned to her, trying to backtrack over how that sounded. “You know that’s not what I meant by that.” He said with a pointed look over his sunglasses. “I’d rather not give them anything more than I have to. It’ll be easier if you don’t come in.” He explained. In the short while she’d known him, she hadn’t exactly seen Matty be serious, and for a while it seemed like he was physically incapable of it. Out of the two times it had happened, one was when she had to ask him to be serious and the second was currently happening right now on this sidewalk. He seemed genuinely worried about this interview.

“Yeah, sure thing.” She agreed, suddenly feeling stupid for giving him shit about it.

“Thank you.” He said with a nod and small smile. “I’ll be back soon.” He said as he walked through the glass doors of the building.

This interview felt a lot longer than the radio one had. She tried to keep herself occupied but kept finding herself checking the entrance to see when he was finally done. After about half an hour she saw the familiar mop of curly hair approaching the doors. “How did it go?” She asked as he stepped back outside, lighting a cigarette almost instantly. He shrugged with a grunt. “Amazingly I take it.” She said sarcastically.

“Let’s go.” He mumbled, heading back in the direction of the train station that they had come from. He felt like he needed a drink, or to get stoned, or something to distract from the way that he felt his answers were being mistreated in that interview. He knew their tricks at this point in his career. Knew how they baited their questions for the right phrases and he tried his best to avoid them. But for every question he worked out how to get around, they found a new one to throw at him that he wasn’t prepared for. And that was always the one that made headlines. He knew that his want to get inebriated in some way, shape or form probably wasn’t likely to happen right now, so heading back to his hotel and sorting his shit out to go home was probably the next most reasonable thing to do.

It was nearly four before they were sat back down on the train on the way back to his hotel. They had walked most of the way there quietly while he beat himself up over the interview, but he was finally starting to feel his mood calm down as his brain wandered to other questions. Namely about present company sitting next to him. This was why he needed company, to help keep his brain grounded. “Was this out of your way?” He asked, breaking the silence. She looked at him curiously, urging him to continue. “To come out here today, I mean.”

“Ah. Not really.” She said with a shrug. “I try not to make plans after working a show because of how late they can go. And I live maybe… thirty minutes total travel time away from here? Near the airport.” She answered. He nodded in understanding. He vaguely remembered how long it had taken him to get to his hotel from the airport when they’d first flown in. The rest of the walk to his hotel was filled with them asking generic getting-to-know-you questions that they probably should’ve asked yesterday in an attempt to learn at least basic facts about one another. They knew pretty much next to nothing about each other. He knew that she liked his music and was easy to rile up. She knew that he was funny and in a band. That was about it.

She noted that he hadn’t seemed himself during their conversation as they made it back to his hotel. He was much quieter and a lot less high-energy than what she had seen previously. But she didn’t feel too chipper either now that they were about to part ways for good, and his final interview appeared to have been a sour note to end his day on. As they both stood in front of his hotel, the atmosphere between them felt tense. “Well…” She started, unsure of what exactly to say. Goodbyes were always awkward. “Have a safe flight, I guess.”

The offer to invite her up to his room briefly crossed his mind, but he thought better of it. She’d only turn him down, anyway. He figured being genuine and leaving on the right note was probably the better way to go. “Thanks for the company these last couple of days.” He said, taking his shades off and slipping them into his pocket.

She shrugged. “It’s no problem, really.”

“Maybe not, but I still appreciated it.” He said as he pulled her into a tight hug. “Keep in touch.” He mumbled into the side of her hair.

“You too, Matty.” She smiled as she hugged him back.

“I mean it.” He added quietly as he moved back, flashing a serious look her way before properly letting go. As quickly as she had seen the sincere look in his eyes, it was replaced by a suggestive grin. “Make sure you have my number saved for those lonely nights.” He winked.

“I will make sure to promptly delete it.” She nodded, rolling her eyes as she started making her way home. “Bye, Matty!” She called with a wave over her shoulder.

“Bye, Y/N/N.” He laughed, heading into his hotel.

Last Chapter

Next Chapter

#Matty Healy x Reader #Matthew Healy x reader #sunsetinmyvein

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ridiculousyoungicarus · 4 years

Text

Self Para 001: If I Could Grant You Peace Of Mind

TWs: HIV, Self-Harm, Drugs (Heroin & Cocaine - not done but mentioned briefly), Eating Disorders (Balo’s intervention is mentioned), Abuse

Word Count: 2,716

Setting: Luxor’s Orleans, France Campus. Monday, September 21st, 2020. Early morning (about 1am - 4am-ish).

Everything going on with Balo was a mess, and no matter what anyone said, Zander still couldn’t fail to see how it wasn’t his fault. Wasn’t that supposed to be his job? Protecting her. It was the only thing he needed to be good at, and he failed at it. She’d be fine if Ivan was here; he’d always been better at taking care of her. It was a thought that grew more and more persistent as the days went by. He’d have never let her in a situation that resulted in something like this. If he’s been the biological son, Balo would be okay.

And right now, she was far from being okay. Her behavior had become concerning since movie night, and he wasn’t sure if he should ask Ivan for help. He’d been entirely unhelpful the last time he’d reached out concerned about their sister. Maybe if Zander could just-

“You’re actually starting to turn a little blue, holy shit.” Ches’s voice interrupts him from his thoughts. When did she get back? He doesn’t fight as she wraps a blanket around his shoulders and settles in next to him, glancing over to her as she rests her head on his shoulder. “Did you really miss me this much? Oh, my sweet baby boy, whatever will I do with you?”

While the nickname was always affectionate, the lack of teasing in her voice sends his thoughts for another loop. Usually, she used it to pick on him. Did she think he was overreacting?

“Welcome home, I didn’t realize you were back yet.” Although he supposed it made sense, she hadn’t taken time off of school for the funeral. She probably wouldn’t have gotten it excused given the situation.

“Well, it’d be kinda hard to attend classes from Virginia. But enough about me. How are you doing? Other than trying to get hypothermia, of course.” He wants to groan that he would not get hypothermia, that it wasn’t that cold, and her dramatics weren’t helpful. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate just how normal it was.

He’d missed normalcy.

“Well, I’m stuck with Jack, my parents disowned Balo, and she’s really scaring me. Nothing’s changed over the span of a weekend. You know how I feel.” It wasn’t the same as the last several times she had poked her head in, though. He’d had a lot more time to think since he’d last saw her.

“Is it the HIV or her mental health?”

Zander quickly tries to sort through their conversations in their mind. Had he let Balo’s diagnosis slip? But he’s yanked from his thoughts as the redhead beside him lifts her head and steals the corner of his blanket to wrap around herself. “You’re cold?”

“I’m still daydreaming about the 17° weather in Virginia, I know 6° isn’t bad, but yeah, I’m cold.” It takes him a few seconds to realize she’s on about Celsius, and he just lifts his arm to let sneak right in under it. “You didn’t answer my question, Zan. Is it her HIV diagnosis or her mental health scaring you?”

“You should really lower your voice; someone is going to overhear you if you don’t start whispering. Balo doesn’t want the entire school to know...”

“The only people awake at 1 am in this school are the insomniacs who are holed up in their rooms and the coke addicts who are way too busy snorting it off of Axel’s dick to care about what you and I are doing outside. Nobody is eavesdropping, and if they were, the rumors would be bullshit like ‘Ches and Zander are entirely too close, I caught them cuddling - they must be fucking.’ We go to school with shallow people who only care about themselves, remember? Nobody cares what we’re doing.” Ches rolls her eyes, “But, seriously I’m gonna keep asking you to tell me what’s on your mind. I know that look, something’s wrong. Please talk to me.”

“Oh, come on, nobody would buy that shit.” Zander knew it wasn’t the point, that he was just grasping at the little outs she was accidentally leaving in her words. “Even Jack would know to laugh that one out of the room.”

“Alekzander, please.”

“Do you nag everyone who doesn’t want to talk, or am I just special? I’m fine. I can handle what’s going on with Balo. I don’t need you mothering me, Hailey.” Still, when the redhead pulls away from him, it takes everything in his power to keep himself from reaching out to pull her back in. Was she mad at him? She didn’t seem angry, although the sudden removal of her body heat wasn’t a good sign.

Before he can start thinking of the words to amend the situation, Ches is standing up. “You’re right, I’m sorry. If you need me, I’ve got to do some studying in the library. Try to get some sleep at some point, the bags under your eyes are really starting to reduce you down to a solid 8.”

She leaves him the blanket when she walks away, and as he tugs it around tighter himself, he’s not sure if it’s a good thing. It was going to continually remind him he needed to take care of himself, that he was sitting outside in the middle of the night alone because he managed to scare off the one person who always seemed to notice he wasn’t okay.

Ivan probably wouldn’t have run Ches off, and Balo wouldn’t be in nearly as bad shape as she was if he was here. For a brief second, Zander reaches for his phone to text the man, but he pauses, stopping himself. He had enough on his plate with Balo without Zander contributing to it. So instead, he settles himself in, allowing himself to get lost in his thoughts.

—

Chessie ☀️: I’m still in the library. Don’t wake the guy at the desk, though; the poor thing just fell asleep. 😕

Zander’s hands are shaking as he reads the text through tears, already heading in the direction of the library. He tries to be quiet as he enters the room, passing the snoring man at the desk as he tries to find Ches. She always chose the back right corner when they were in Lake George, and sure enough, she was quietly pouring over her textbooks with a flashlight when he rounded the corner.

“No wine? Who are you, and what did you do with my Ches?” He cringes at the effect his tears had on his voice. It was bad enough that he was crying without his body making it evident to everyone around him he was trembling even if they weren’t looking.

“I’m testing the waters, thinking about cutting the wine out. A bit more productive, don’t you think?” For a moment, he thinks she might make a comment about the state he’s in, but she just pats the seat next to her as she shuts her textbooks. He’s silent as he sits down; the only sounds filling the room is the chronic snoring from the library’s front and his chair as it grazes across the floor. “But you’re not here for the wine.”

“I’m not.” He confirms, taking a deep breath as he finally removes the blanket she’d left him two hours prior and sets it on the table. “I came to talk if that’s okay.” No matter how many times he’d found himself at her door when he didn’t want to be alone, he still couldn’t suppress the concern that maybe this was going to be the time she turned him away. But she just nods, setting her flashlight onto the table.

“The floor is yours.”

“My parents disowned Balo, and I’ve never seen her like this. She’s always been so bright and cheerful and right now... Chessie, she gave me her sewing kit because she doesn’t trust herself not to misuse her rotary blade. And these things aren’t sudden; how much has been building up that I’ve missed? She won’t really talk to me, and given everything going on with Jack again, I’m pretty sure she’s not talking to anyone. It’s not like she’ll tell our brother. She was upset with me when I talked to him about Jack because I could have worried him.” He explains, “and that’s only the start of it- okay, what’s with the face?”

There was something about Ches’s pensive expression in the lowlight that distracted him, the way she pursed her lips as she listened to him talk. “I was just thinking that I’ve never heard you call Ivan your brother before. Balo’s brother, asshole, my parents disowned him, Ches you’re not allowed to follow him on Instagram to thirst over him that’s weird. Please carry on, I’m listening.”

“Don’t get used to it, I’m not making it a habit.” Still, Zander’s tears slow as a small chuckle briefly escapes from his body. “I can’t stop thinking that if he was here, Balo would be fine. Whatever caused this wouldn’t have happened. I just wish she’d tell me how this happened...”

“She doesn’t know, Zan. I know Jack’s clean, we were fucking - he’d have mentioned it if he wasn’t. Barton would have told her, she hasn’t been anywhere near the Keller boy in a year, and we’d know if she was doing heroin. I thought maybe that night when we took her to the ER, there were hours we can’t account for, but... if your parents disowned her.”

“I wouldn’t write off my father yet.” Zander hadn’t even considered him as a suspect, but he wouldn’t put it past the man to cover his track for the sake of appearances. Maybe there’d been blood on blood contact during the struggle? Balo had a pretty nasty gash on her forehead, and he had avoided his father afterward. “Or medical malpractice, for that matter. It’s happened with healthcare workers before, right? Fuck, Ivan really would have been able to stop this.”

“Zander, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t give Balo HIV, and your brother couldn’t have done more than you did. I know it’s hard, but this isn’t because of anything you did. You couldn’t have stopped this, just like I couldn’t have stopped my maman’s murder, and Fane couldn’t have prevented his parents’ car accident.” Ches’s nose doesn’t crinkle as she speaks; the telltale signs of her being dishonest were nowhere to be seen. Which likely meant she thought she was telling the truth, and while he didn’t believe her, his guilt could wait.

It was the least important thing going on; he knew that.

“I was a dick to Elliot.” He knows the words are sudden. That may be at the moment telling her he’d been mean to her boyfriend would rapidly make the situation worse.

Her green eyes blink, her head tilts to the slide slightly, almost like a puppy’s as she processes his words. Had Elliot not told her anything? “Why would you be a dick to Elli? Fuck. Que vais-je faire de vous?”

“Yell at me? Look, I know I shouldn’t have been so hard on your boyfriend. But he breathed near me and-”

“He breathed near you?” The concern in her voice makes Zander feel even worse than he would have if she’d just yelled at him. “That’s not like you. When did this happen?”

“Before movie night, after we got here.”

“After you learned about Balo.” For a brief moment, the snoring stops, and the panic on Ches’s expression leaves him questioning if they’re allowed to be in the corner they were occupying as they wait. Soon enough, the snoring resumes, and she speaks again, “I’m not mad at you. I want you to get along with him, and I expect you to apologize, but you’re not scaring me off that easily. We left off at you feeling inferior to your brother, please continue.”

“I don’t feel like I’m inferior to Ivan.” He protests, although as he tries to think of examples of how she was entirely off base, he realizes she might have a point. “But I can’t stop running through what if’s. What if he’d be able to stop it? What if he’d know how to help Balo right now? I didn’t ask him for help with her intervention and look at how well that went. She resents me for it now. What if I fuck this up, and she gets hurt because of it?”

“That’s not going to happen because you have me, you have Lucy and Avery, and as much as you hate it - we have Jack and Cait. They’d never let anything happen to her; if she tries something, one of us will grab her. She went to you about her sewing kit. Do you have it?” He nods yes in response to her question, and the girl in front of him relaxes, “from experience, people don’t ask for help unless they want to be stopped. Her coming to you was a good sign.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I was right about your inferiority complex and that you were stressing Balo’s mental health.”

“I hate you so much sometimes, you know that.” And yet he can’t help the fond smile as he says the words, the way the tension in his shoulders eases when she smiles back at him.

“I know. I’m just the worst sometimes, aren’t I?” She winks at him, “so what’s next on the list? If it’s money, you know she’s got two sugar mommies already, and I’m pretty sure we could convince Jack to be a sugar daddy if we can’t pull enough funds together to take care of her.”

“Two?”

“Barton? Carnifex families are loaded, I have no doubt in my mind if there’re issues affording her medication abroad if I can’t cover it completely, she’d lend me the money temporarily for B.” Ches shrugs, “so that should also ease the healthcare concerns. Correct? There’s no way in hell we’re not going to be able to manage this. She’s been taking her meds, and as long as they’re working medications have gotten to the point she’ll probably outlive you by a couple decades still.”

And as much as Zander hated the thought of asking anyone for money, the thought that maybe people would be willing to help if it became an issue was reassuring. “And here I thought you said you weren’t taking mind reading classes.”

“You’re just predictable. The day you aren’t stressing about money, we’re going to see pigs fly, and lotus storms consume the earth.” Ches jokes, “did we happen to cover everything? Wait, we haven’t discussed Jack being in your classes yet. Shit, maybe we needed the wine...”

“We don’t need wine. There’s not that much to say, he’s annoying, we’re getting stuck together, and I’m just going to have to deal with it.” He shrugs, “probably the most normal thing going on in our lives, come to think of it.”

“You ever realize it’s a bit fucked up Jackaboy acting up is considered normal at this school. I’m not complaining but...”

“If you ever tell him I actually appreciate him being Balo’s pet demon right now, I’ll never talk to you again.” He warns her. Jack would never let him live it down, and he was well aware it was fucked up. But Ches just smiles, shaking her head.

“Your secret’s safe with me. So, what else do you want to discuss?”

He thinks about it for a minute. Was there anything else he felt like he needed to get off his chest? There were the things he couldn’t find the words to say and the things that weren’t worth the effort left, but he couldn’t think of anything he needed to talk to her about. “What were you working on before I interrupted?”

“Well, you see...” Ches starts to open her textbook again as she starts to ramble about what she was working on, and he listens as she gushes eagerly. He doesn’t even realize just how tired he was until his eyes become too heavy to keep open. The last thing he notices before he falls asleep is a blanket being tucked around him as she continues to explain her literature homework.

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bensroger · 6 years

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To The Man Who Loved Her First - Ben Hardy! Roger Taylor

Summary: You lost some near and dear to you and you know you have to move on but you can’t. Over the years, you’ve been picking up these pieces, but it’s hard. It’s hard to wake up with the man you planned to spend the rest of your life with, just gone. When Roger comes into your life as more than just someone you work for, things finally change for the better. You want to start a new life with him, but it’s hard when you haven’t completely moved on from the man you loved first.

Word Count: 4600

Warnings: Mentions of someone dying, Swearing

A/N: This one is super emotional and there’s a lotta tears. I hope you don’t find this boring. I didn’t give the reader’s former fiance a name, because I want you to give him a name. I want him to be your character, I want you to create him so you can feel the emotion of this fic. Normally I try and stay away from any fics that involve people getting gravely injured but I really wanted to write this, because it’s not a story of loss, but a story of healing. With that, I present to you my favorite fic to date, and I hope you love it as much I do.

You awoke to soft sheets, and the morning light trickled in through the blinds. Shedding youryself of the remaining glimpses of a dream, your eyes were still shut as you soaked in the warmth of your covers.Slowly and reluctantly, you uncovered your face. You blinked your eyes, closed your eyes, and then blinked again. Streaks of sunlight penetrated the window still and blinded you.

You turned your head to find your boyfriend, Roger, still asleep beside you, his blonde curls a mess. He had an arm wrapped around your waist, and pulled you closer to him sometime during the night. Roger was still fast asleep, and you knew he must’ve got home from the studio late last night. You always hated when he stayed out late—especially if it was raining—it worried you so much. You gave him one last look as you felt his breath against you. You would’ve stayed like this for the rest of the if you had a choice. That was one thing about Roger; he would always pull you toward him and keep you close to him during the night. You loved it except for when it burning hot outside.

You let out a sigh as you rolled over to face him, but careful enough not to wake him. You gently moved his hair out of his face, smiling softly as you did so. Before you slithered your way out of bed, you gave him a gently kiss on the cheek. As you sat on the edge of the bed, you turned your head to the left, looking the two framed photos on your nightstand. The photo closest to you, and the larger photo was a picture of you and Roger. It was taken while he was on tour, and it was just you and him backstage. However, the memory will always be special to you because it was the night Roger told you for the first time he loved you. That was two years ago.

The other framed photo was a picture of and the man that you had fallen in love with back when you were sixteen. He was your first love. It was a photo booth strip of you and him, taken on the night he proposed to you. You had been dating for four years, and he took you to the carnival where you had your first date. If you were honest, the first date with him was awful; there was not really any chemistry between you and it was awkward… But as your relationship continued, it changed, and you’d often look back on that horrible first date and laugh.

And when he proposed, down one knee in front of the bright ferris wheel, a gold ring with a small diamond in the middle, your heart stopped, because there was nothing you wanted more. You didn’t want anything else but to marry the man you had loved since you were sixteen. So, you of course said yes, your highschool boyfriend became your fiance, and you planned to spend the rest of your life with him.

And for a year, things were perfect. You were going to marry the love of your life, and you had recently gotten a new job working for an up and coming band—Queen. Your fiance had even gotten a really well-paying job himself, although it was an agonizing commute and you saw him less. His job kept him pretty busy, and you soon found that it was rarer now that you two would have the night off together.

You two fought a lot more than you had before, and it made you sad. He’d always come home later and later than usual, to the point where you hardly saw him. When the anniversary of when you two made your relationship official rolled around, you knew he had something big planned so you put his favorite red dress on, curled your hair, did your makeup, and waited… It was really rainy that night, so you figured his commute would take longer than usual, but he never came home. With tears running down your face, you ripped off your stupid dress and wiped your makeup off, and then you went to bed. You couldn’t fall asleep.

The rain had picked up, and changed from a light drizzle to a hard pitter patter against your small shared-apartments windows. It was nearly 1AM when you began to worry. You got out of bed and began pacing around your living room, your feet growing cold against the hardwood floor. What if he went home with another woman, or if he was going to leave you? Looking back at the ordeal, you were worried for the wrong reasons.

A loud knock at exactly 1:34 AM brought you out of your thoughts. You’d remember the next few moments for the rest of your life, because there was nothing quite like it… You frowned once you heard the knock, but your frown transformed into a scowl once you realized it had to be your fiance at the door. So, you opened the door with a, “I swear to God if ever pull shit like that again we’re not getting married.” You grumbled as you opened the door.

But when you opened the door, you weren’t met with the face of your fiance. It was two cops. An older, bald one stood before you, an expression of pity rested on his face. In his arms, he was holding pink carnations. Your mouth hung open, and you knew this was nothing good. Your eyes began to fill with tears. “This is about my fiance, isn’t it?”

The cop just nodded. “Please… Please tell me he’s okay.” You choked out, not even caring about the tears that had begun to roll down your face. Your chest tightened and you felt like the world around was collapsing.

The man in front of you held the pink carnations out to you. You looked at the flowers, shaking your head… As if flowers would possibly console you. “I’m sorry ma’am, he was in a terrible accident and… He had passed on by the time we arrived to the scene.” The policeman looked you dead in the eyes, and tears in his own eyes. “We found these flowers in the passenger seat…” He said trying to hand them to you again, and this time you took them.

That’s when you realized—He got in the accident on the way home from getting you these flowers… Stupid flowers for your stupid anniversary… You only nodded to the cops before closing the door behind and taking exactly two steps before it hit you.

You let the beautiful and untouched bouquet of pink carnations hit the ground, giving way to gravity. A few seconds later, you fell to your knees and cried as if the ferocity of it might bring him back; as if by the sheer force of her grief the news would be undone. He was yours, your only love and he could not be gone. But he was, and you weren’t sure how to move on.

You couldn’t count the amount of days you spent in bed after that, the amount of days you spent crying. It was hard to move on without him, move on from the life you had planned for him…

It was a few weeks before you finally went back to work. It was an early morning in the studio, and you cried the night before. It was all you seemed to be able to do now. You hadn’t told anyone yet about your fiance’s passing, not even the band. Of course, they hadn’t really noticed any change with you yet. You had always been really shy and reserved, so they thought everything was just the same.

You came into the studio with four coffees in the tray, and passed them out to the boys. You were friends with all of them, but not particularly close to anyone. You hadn’t said anything at all this morning, or done anything unnatural. You just needed to move on with your life, and needed to continue as if nothing had changed. And that was the thing you could count on at work; nothing changed. They didn’t look at you like the poor girl who had just lost the man she planned to marry, they looked at you as the same old Y/N.

You let out a shaky breath as you handed out there coffees, trying not to even look at the engagement ring that still sat upon your finger. Things were normal here. The boys were borderline arguing about some song that would have to get cut for their upcoming album, and you allowed yourself to smile out of relief.

Things continued like this for awhile—You kept to yourself while they’d be talking, rarely acknowledging you, but not in a rude way, just because you never talked much yourself. However, one person actually noticed the change in your demeanor—It was the way you carried yourself and your expressions. You always looked tired and sad now, and you hardly ever smiled anymore. Roger knew to begin with you were a quiet person, but it had never been this bad. He wanted to ask what was going on for so long, but he knew it wasn’t his place. It wasn’t until lunch on a sunny day that he had figured it out.

Everyone who had worked with the band went out lunch to celebrate them finishing their album, and of course you were invited. So, you attended because there was something distracting and relieving about being with them compared to the despair and emptiness that would wash over you whenever you’d walk into your once-shared apartment.

The restaurant was a somewhat fancy one, with pure white tablecloths and little flowers in vases. It was a small thing that set you off; Upon being seated, right in the middle of the circular table sat a singular pink carnation in a vase.

Everyone else sat down, and frowned as your froze in place. As much as you wanted to break down and cry right there, you didn’t. Tears welled up in your eyes and you whispered out, “Excuse me.” And headed straight to the bathroom.

What you didn’t know was that someone followed you to the bathroom, despite Deaky’s warning not to follow you and to give you space. He of course, didn’t listen. You were leaning on the bathroom sink looking in the mirror trying to calm yourself down. It had been nearly two months now since your fiance passed away, but you were still trying to pick up the pieces.

Your head snapped as the door swung open, and you saw Roger standing in the doorway a concerned look on his face. It was the ladies bathroom, but you suspected by his entrance that he didn’t really care. You looked up at him with your red nose and tear-stained cheeks. You weren’t sure what to say to him, so you stood there was a frown on your face. Roger was the one to break the silence and you were the one to break your gaze.

“Are you alright Y/N?” He said softly. This wasn’t what you expected from Roger—A man known for being a playboy and snarky being kind and caring toward you—but it was nice to know he cared.

You let out a fake laugh and shook your head. “I’m perfectly fine, I’m not sure what got into me back there.” You smiled at him nervously. Roger’s expression didn’t change however.

“You don’t have to lie to me you know… I don’t know what’s going on but I’m here for you Y/N. I can tell by the pained expression you walk around with everyday that you’re barely there. Please just tell me, are you alright?” Roger whispered softly, and your lip started to tremble.

And it was a question people had been asking your for weeks, and you had lied to them each time when you smiled and nodded. But as you looked at Roger in the eyes, you could he was truly concerned and only wanted to help you. And one look at the ring you wore on your finger sent you into a fit of sobs, and before you knew, Roger had enveloped you in his arms and said nothing as you cried into his chest.

That was the day Roger found out that you had lost the love of your life, and it was a few days before you told anyone else around you what had happened. Roger didn’t treat you like the sad, delicate, broken girl everyone thought you to be. He began to treat you like a friend, and found himself talking to you more often.

He kept it like that for two whole years, two whole years before he told you about his feelings for you, because he knew you needed time and wanted to give you it. In the meantime, Roger always looked out for you and kept you pretty close. You even grew closer to other members of Queen, and they were welcoming and warm to you. They made you happy, made you laugh in ways you hadn’t in awhile. He’d take you to parties, and even to some of his shows. Of course he still had his hookups, and you didn’t mind it until one day… It made anger bubble up as you saw some skinny blonde cuddled up to him at a party.

And it was then you realized that you had begun to love someone else, and it scared you. You tried to run from it, tried to stay away from Roger and push him away, but he knew what was going on—at least most of what was going on. You had been avoiding him for a week when he finally came to your apartment himself, a sad look on his face. His breath was visible in the cold air, and it was pouring outside. Rain was something you once loved but now despised.

“Why have you been avoiding me Y/N?” Roger said, his voice cracking at your name. Your heart broke inside your chest and you broke your gaze, looking down at your feet. “I… I’ve been trying to help you for so long, I’ve been your friend and I don’t want to lose you…” He whispered, causing you to finally look up, tears in your own eyes.

Your was trembling but you admitted in a whisper, “Because I think I love you.” You looked at him for a moment before looking back at your feet. “And I don’t want to betray—”

“Y/N, you’re not betraying anyone. It’s okay for you to move on, you’re healing, it’s okay. I love you too.” He said, pulling you close to him.

And you were scared—scared because you told yourself you could never love again, told yourself there was no way you’d be able to get past this. Here you were, learning to allow yourself to love again. Somedays, you felt guilty when your fingers with intertwined with Roger’s.

Roger gave you all the time you needed, and he knew it was hard for you. He knew that what you had with your former fiance was amazing, it was a type of love you could never forget. Roger knew he couldn’t love you in the same way he did, but Roger would still love you just as much.

Day by day, you let little parts of him go, and of course there were days when it was harder, like your former fiance’s birthday or the anniversary of his passing. Sometimes you’d find an old picture or one of his old shirts. Sometimes his mom would even call you (who you had asked if it was okay to move on, and she was more than happy to see you healing). Roger was different from him in a few ways—he was always made sure to take care of you, but there were times when he was on tour and you didn’t get to see him. His lifestyle was a lot different, and he was a bit more wild. However, you never fought with Roger like you did him, and if you did, you resolved it quickly.

So, here you were, six years since the passing of the man you had given your heart to when you were sixteen, and two years since you had began to date the man who had your heart now. You were lucky to have had to great loves in your life, and you were grateful for the time spent with the both of them. Now, you look back on your time with your former fiance with happiness, not sadness or grief.

You stared at the photos as your feet dangled off of your shared bed with Roger as he lied asleep next to you. Your old engagement ring that you hadn’t worn in three years sat next to the photo frame. There was a slight aching in your chest, and there always would be, but you were happy. Roger stirred next to you, and a few seconds later murmured, “Good morning beautiful.” And opened his eyes to look at you. You leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You stood up, wearing only one of Roger’s old shirts, and it ended just above your knees. Your pulled your messy hair into an equally messy bun. Roger stretched his arms above his head before sitting up in only his sweats. Roger’s blonde curls a mess as well, but he didn’t bother. He rested his head on the crook of your neck. “Do you think we could make omelets?” He murmured.

You let out a small laugh. “You love your omelets don’t you?” And you could feel him nod. “Alright, but you’re the one cleaning the kitchen.”

You could hear Roger groan behind you. “Fine.”

You quickly showered, and threw on a white button up sweater with jeans, followed by a dainty gold necklace with pearls on it. You hair was loose and wavy, and you didn’t really bother with it. When you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw Roger was wearing a red button up with a black shirt underneath, and you smirked. “What?” He frowned.

“Nothing.” You shrugged. “You look good is all.”

Once in the kitchen, you were dancing as some music played in the background, a song you didn’t really recognize, but Roger seemed to as he was singing along. When he saw you dancing, looking straight at you, he tried to give you a disapproving look by hiding his smile, but eventually gave in once a wide grun erupted on his face. Roger ran toward you and lifted you up, spinning you around slowly and you let out a loud laugh. You advanced, retreated, pirouetted, your arms waving from side to side above your head, your head swaying, and Roger let out a low chuckle and you only smiled back. His dances were just a dorky as yours, and this was a moment you’d always remember with him. It was a simple thing—dancing in the kitchen before breakfast—but you loved it.

You were both gathering the ingredients for the omelets. “Can you get the eggs?” Roger said, as he reached up high to get some spices down.

“Mhm.” You mumbled. You opened up your fridge, and reached into the open the egg carton. When you opened and reached to grab an egg, you froze. There was a gold ring inside of it, a large diamond in the middle of it in the shape of a heart. Your mouth fell open. “Rog?” You whispered in disbelief, and turned around only to find him down on one knee, grinning widely at you.

“I know the ring is meant to be in my hand, but it’s in the carton, so I suppose this will be enough.” Roger laughed nervously, looking up at you. “But I love you Y/N. And I understand you’ve been through things, you know love and you know loss. I know I’m not him, but I also know I can love you just as much.”

You gaped at him tears in your eyes. You struggled to find words, and just let out a shaky breath. And before you knew it, you were walking toward the door, grabbing your keys and leaving. You wished you could’ve told him, but before you told him anything, you had to do one thing.

You had to say goodbye and finally let go.

You headed up the grassy to hill of the graveyard, dark clouds looming overhead, and made a stop when you say his name. You gave him a sad smile, tears in your eyes. You placed a bouquet of pink carnations down. There was another bouquet of flowers there, probably from his mother. You remembered when the dirt was fresh, and watching the grass grow over his grave over time.

You kneeled at his grave, not caring about the damp soil staining your jeans. You folded your hands in your lap as you pursed your lips. “I’m sorry.” You sighed out, your voice shaky. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to marry you, and I’m sorry we never got to grow old… But, I’m thankful. I’m thankful for meeting you, for knowing you in your short time life… I’m thankful that you showed me how to love. And I’ve started to love again. I will always love you…” You paused, trying to imagine in his face where his name was engraved. Tears slowly rolled down your cheeks, and you bit your lip as you looked up to the sky, trying to stop crying. “But I will always love Roger too… You haven’t met him, but I know you’d like him because he cares about just as much you did. I hope if you can see me, I hope you’re… You’re proud of me, and that you’re happy wherever you are, because I am. I am happy.” You said, nodding your head and smiling, trying not to cry again. “So, this is me letting you go. This is me letting the last piece of you go because I’m getting married.” You said, and a sobbed escaped, and you pressed your hand to your mouth as you sat there as sobbed.

It began to rain a little bit, and you felt as if it was sign, but not a bad when. You looked up to the sky, the rain mixing with your tears. The wind began to pick up, blowing the flowers from his mother over. That’s when you saw it. It was an envelope and written on it was: To The Man Who Loved Her First

With shaky hands, you picked it up. It wasn’t sealed, so you were able to pull it out easily and start reading it. Your hands shook as you did so, your tears falling onto the paper along with the rain.

To The Man Who Loved Her First.

You don’t know me because I never had the honour of meeting you, and for that I am truly sorry. From what Y/N tells me, you were an amazing and funny human being, who always put others first. She says we had a lot in common too, except you played guitar while I played drums.

But I’m not writing this to tell you of how we could’ve been friends. I’m writing this to thank you. To thank you for taking care of Y/N before I met her, because we all know she needs someone to look out for her… That girl is a mess, but I love her. I know she doesn’t want you to feel like a bump on the way to me, and I get that. I don’t want her to feel like that either.

I’m planning on proposing to her soon, and I’m really nervous. I’m thinking of doing this surprise thing, but I’m not sure if she’ll like it. Were you this nervous when you proposed to her?

What I’m really trying to say in this letter is that, I’ve got her now. I can look out for her, and I will watch out for her. You can rest easy now, because she’s safe. I know she loves me, she loves me a lot. But I know she loves you, and she always will.

I know she’s happy with me, but she also really misses you.

With all of that said, thank you for being there when I couldn’t be, and thank you for guiding her.

Roger Taylor.

You were still crying, and you sniffed as you let out a happy laugh. The rain stopped and for a moment, the clouds parted as the sun was able to peek through a little bit. You gently folded the letter back into the envelope, and you let yourself smile finally.

You kissed your hand and pressed it to his tombstone before standing up and dusting the dirt off of your knees. You took one last glance before you headed back down the hill to your car.

Once you returned to your apartment, you stood in front of your door with your keys in your hand, nervous.

When Roger heard the door start to open, his head snapped toward the door, and right to you, and he had a sad look on his face. Roger gazed at you for a moment before looking away. He was sitting on the couch, his shoulders slumped as he played with the ring in between his fingers.

You walked over to him and sat next to him. “Yes.” You whispered, as you grabbed his cheek to face him toward you.

Roger frowned. “Yes… Yes what? What are you talking about?”

“Yes Roger Taylor, I’ll marry you…” You said, starting to smile, and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Are you sure? Because the way you ran out like that makes me think-”

“I just had to say goodbye.” You said softly. “I had to let him go.” You said, a sad but happy smile forming on your face.

Roger just grinned and shook his head. “You could’ve led with that you know… I thought you walked out and that was a big no.”

“As if I could handle losing another man I love…” You kissed his cheek, and held out your hand to him, and he slipped the beautiful ring onto your finger. “I hope it doesn’t smell like eggs…” You joked.

“Speaking of, we never got to finish out omelets, but it’s nearly lunch now…” Roger said.

“Well, omelets for lunch then?” You suggested, and Roger let out a victorious yes. You gave him one last smile. “I love you, Rog.”

“I love you too Y/N.” He grinned from ear to ear.

#ben hardy imagine #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy x reader #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy #roger taylor #queen #bohemian rhapsody #imagine #rami malek #Joe mazzello #John deacon #Brian may #Gwilym lee #freddie mercury #borhap

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justsomerandomweebo · 6 years

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An AU I Think (Side Effects)

Alright so I've never done one of these before but this has been haunting me for days now. So here's the thing: what if the ninja (and by extension all elemental masters) suffered side effects from their powers?

Starting with our fire lord Kai:

The drawback for him is that his fire makes him have a short fuse so to speak.

Like it could be something as passive as a leaf falling in his hair just after he did it and he will freaking explode (not literally of course).

"What the hell?! I spent an entire hour doing my hair and this stupid freaking leaf just-" *cue massive flame up* (The Bounty almost gets burnt down a lot)

He hates it though because he knows it's usually nothing big and he shouldn't even be mad in the first place but he can't let things like that go, no matter how much he wants to. Not without throwing a fiery tantrum first that is.

This of course makes it soooo hard for him to even be around the others or anyone for that matter because he lives in constant fear that his explosive and uncontrollable anger towards the simplest of things will result in someone being seriously hurt.

He avoids Zane like the plague outside of missions because of this. (You'll see why)

Speaking of Zane, our beloved snowflake, the boi is as cold as ice. In more ways than one you see.

Not only does he have a hard time connecting with anyone (humane, mechanical and otherwise), but he is plagued with a feeling of deep, freezing cold.

No matter what he does, he can't warm up and because of this, he often wears a lot of layers.

To everyone else though, he's average in temperature.

He gets along well enough with plants and animals since they don't require conversation or too much attention.

The never ending cold really gets to him though. If he isn't monitored, he will do things like sticking a limb in a flaming hot oven or worse- purposefully make Kai flare up.

*pushes Kai* "You should really watch where you're going." *Kai does the big snap*

Jay has to fix and replace parts on his person due to direct exposure to Kai's intense fire while Kai holes himself up, swimming in guilt with Cole trying to make him feel better.

And when that fails, he often lowers the temperature in their entire base so they can feel as cold as he does too. He usually feels a flare of guilt a few minutes in and stops.

Jay, the lovable cinnamon roll cannot. Stop. Talking.

His mind goes a mile a second and he just. Can't. Stop.

He tries to lessen his time with being around the others because he knows he's annoying, jumping from one topic to another in the span of a few seconds to the point where it's impossible to keep up a conversation with him.

Be careful when touching because he's always charged up. He zapped several of the ninja and innocent bystanders on accident.

Sleep is so hard for him because he can't get his mind to shut up long enough to fall asleep.

On bad days, he can be found on the nearest roof, digging into his scalp until it bleeds and muttering to himself. Aside from Lloyd, Nya finds him most of the time and help bring him down enough so he'll stop trying to scratch his brain out.

Dearest Nya. After unlocking her true potential, she becomes so mellow. Absolutely nothing phases her.

Kai's having an explosive episode? That's cool. Zane nearly melts his arm off? Radical. Jay spent three days doing half projects without a lick of sleep? Neat!

She. Freaking. Hates. It.

But like everyone else, she can't do anything to stop it. Deep inside, she just wants to scream because she can't show that she actually cares properly.

Which makes her ideal in getting Jay to calm down because he could talk for days about 100k things and it wouldn't phase her. She would just nod and sometimes interject to show him a cool water trick.

Despite that, she just can't seem to take anything seriously, despite how desperately she wants to. Part of this is the reason Cole tries to keep his distance.

Precious rock boi Cole. Everyone thinks he has it easy. He doesn't have fiery tantrums or can't connect to people or can't stop thinking or can't take things seriously. But that doesn't mean he doesn't suffer still.

His problem is stubbornness. Once he sets his mind to something, that's it.

"What time is it Cole?" "It's 1am." "I think you mean 1pm." "No. AM." "Dude, the sun is out." "Which is exactly why it's AM and not pm!" "No dude. You've got it wrong-" "Think what you want to but it's freaking AM and that's that." *stalks off, ground rumbling with each step* (an actual conversation with Nya)

He knows he's wrong about most things (because first thoughts/impressions stick) but he just can't admit it for the life of him. And what makes it so much worse is that when he gets into one of these arguments with the Ninja and he decides he's going to be mad at them, he can't not be mad at them ever since.

He's reluctantly furious with Nya because she doesn't give in like most of the others do to spare him. She keeps going, proving him wrong when he knows he is but can't utter a word to say he is.

The only ones he can still talk to without being mad is Wu, Jay (he isn't able to stay on topic long enough to prove Cole wrong), Kai (who does everything in his power to avoid arguments) and Lloyd.

LLOYD MY GOLDEN CHILD. Oh boy, he does the big suffer. So, Lloyd's problem is having. Too. Much. Energy!

He feels like he's on a sugar rush 25/8.

He has to keep moving, has to keep burning energy or else his energy will build up and his powers will go haywire. (Last time, his powers blasted the mast clean off the Bounty and it landed a few yards away from the ship. Luckily, they were docked.)

Morning, mid-day and nightly runs are a thing when they're on land.

Insomnia. Panda eyes. Jitters. The big depression he hides from everyone.

He just keeps going until he passes out. All the ninja take turns carrying him to bed when he does. (He once fell asleep half over the railings on the Bounty. While they were flying.

Some flare-ups are the result from his frustration. He can't even play videogames because they aren't engaging enough! He can't do anything that requires staying still for more than two minutes and it makes him so sick and tired he just- may have accidentally destroyed one of Jay's half projects laying around. (Luckily he doesn't mind)

Avoids sweets like the plague, despite his longing to have even one. He doesn't need any more energy. In extension, he sometimes purposely misses meals.

Despite his problems, he tries his best to help the others out. He doesn't talk much around Cole but he listens and while he couldn't go near Kai during his flare-ups, he does invite him to train or go running with him to take his kind off things. He knows Nya really cares and makes sure to let her know he knows that. He brings Zane small cactai and other small plants as well. He also lets Jay talk his ears off and while it does get confusing, the challenge of keeping up with his conversations takes a lot of his focus and energy (which he's grateful for).

He also helps them all pull it together for a mission where they can remind themselves why they go through the things they do instead of passing their powers over to someone else and being free of it all.

In return, they do everything they can for him and while he appreciates it, some things restrict him and cause energy build up. (ie, doing laundry for once puts a huge hole in his messy schedule to keep him moving.) He encourages them not to most times.

Bonus:

Our favorite Sensei. Garmadon (sorry Wu ily2) has to destroy things. Not as often as he needs to with the evil gone from his body but it's still a need to prevent his powers from building up.

To solve this without causing actual damage, he brings bubble wrap everywhere. Everywhere. He stashes them all over his monastery too. There's even some in his staff.

When he runs out (he never does but if he should), he takes to crushing pebbles instead.

Wu can't help but laugh seeing his brother so focused on popping individual plastic bubbles but also makes sure he never runs out as well.

Now our just as favourite Sensei Wu of course has the reverse problem. He needs to keep creating.

This is where the Tea comes in. He creates several different blends done several different ways so he's never drinking the same tea done the exact same way twice.

If he can't do that then his Nin-Jo (his staff) also doubles as a sort of puzzle. (Half of it at least). It has several tiny sections you can twist and turn to create different clicking sounds and combinations. He hasn't run out of combinations yet but he only uses it for emergencies.

As for his students, he has already gotten a gist of what the previous elemental masters went through (getting them all together for the first serpentine war was hell!), so he knows how to avoid certain incidents. Alas, he is only one old man (a very, very old man) and he cannot stop everything. He does have a special tea brew that calms their emotions enough to help prevent a flare up (but they can only have one cup a day else it represses their emotions completely and the effects only lasts about 4-5 hours. He calls it ClariTea) and a reverse version to increase emotions for Nya (He calls it EmotionaliTea). He's still looking into a tea that'll help Zane get warm as he is the only one who he hasn't been able to help (since ClariTea would make him even more distant and EmotionaliTea would most likely fuel the side of him that wants others to feel what he feels and that would be very bad).

He does have difficulty sleeping but not because of his powers. It weighs on his conscious heavily that his students have to suffer for Ninjago to be safe. How can he sleep peacefully while his students suffer after all?

He soon recruits Mistaké's help in curing the side effects of their elemental powers but nothing is forthcoming so far.

That's it for now. It's not the best but if you guys have questions, feel free to let me know and I'll answer as best as I can! If you have additions, I'd love to hear them too!

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bucky-iss-bae · 6 years

Text

Listen (Billy Russo x Reader)

Fandom: Marvel’s The Punisher

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: AU Reader plans a cute evening with Billy but he’s a little late. (Prompts: ‘Why can’t you listen to a single thing I say?’ – ‘All you do is whine’)

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, arguments, mentions of cheating - Sorry if I’ve missed anything

Word Count: 2523

A/N: First Billy Fic, hope you all enjoy and I just, he’s so beautiful. Like, the beard the suit, the everything.

Mastlerlist Fandom List

Being with Billy Russo had both advantages and disadvantages. Being together for nearly 2 years we loved each other endlessly, but at some point, Billy and I had to get out of the honeymoon phase. But we were both always there for one another. We were still the cheesy couple that laughed at inside jokes, that knew each other more than anyone would think, and sure on the outside everyone saw Billy as a murderous psychopath, heck my family had issues sometimes with the fact that we were together and happy. Others think he manipulates me, but in reality, we love each other more than he thought he would ever be able to love.

I basically lived at his place, although I still had my own place that was vacant of me most of the time, I just hadn’t ever made the official move into his apartment and I was ok with that. My two other best friends who are a couple themselves live there and my room hasn’t ever really changed. But every night I fell asleep at his place, every morning woke up there, most of my clothes were there, my makeup, shoes. Somehow the change had been gradual and neither of us complained, instead he complimented it. He even suggested that I should officially move in, but neither of you had the time to get everything from one place to another. But in both of our eyes, we were living together, we had a great life together and supported one another.

We were friends when he was starting up his business, I supported him as a girlfriend when he was getting established and watched as he grew and his business grew. Just as he supported me in my career.

But not everything was sunshine and butterflies, in recent months Billy has been distant. Spending more time at work than at home. More often than not I fell asleep before he even got home, some of those nights I did try to stay awake but I was always out of it before I even realised. He was gone before I even woke up some mornings and if I was lucky I saw him only a few times a week. We often spoke on the phone when he took a break, other times we spoke whenever I took lunch in for him on my days off. But his weeks consisted of 7 days which made things difficult because despite living together, we rarely saw one another.

But tonight was different, the perfect date night, he promised he would be home early, and I made sure both of our favourite meals were cooked. Despite staying in I dressed up in my favourite outfit, done my hair and makeup nicely. Other than going out with friends or work I rarely dressed up, especially since I loved it.

Dinner was ready to be served and now it was a waiting game, it had gone past 7 but that’s understandable, traffic in Manhattan at this time is crazy so I opted to watch a bit of TV while waiting. I had a funny feeling in my stomach at 8 and checked my phone, no messages or nothing. So instead I decided to give him a call but it went straight to answerphone, ok so he’s probably driving, understandable if he got a little caught up.

Before I knew it, it was 11pm, I ended up getting changed into something comfier, threw my hair up, but I was angry. Fuming. He promised, Billy promised me, he promised me yet he hadn’t even called me. None of my messages had been read, and the calls unanswered.

I had a bad feeling, I mean he can’t be cheating on me can he? I mean work takes up a lot of time. And when we first got together, Maria had promised me that he’s a good guy, not the cheating type. Frank even said so, that Bill wouldn’t ever do anything like that. Despite his checkered past, that didn’t involve endless amounts of women, instead it was dangerous, and he had redeemed himself, I mean he wouldn’t cheat would he?

I was still angry though. He still wasn’t home, it was nearly midnight and he broke his promise. We hadn’t seen one another in months, we went from having dinner together every day, to a few times a week, then to once a week, to me only ever eating lunch in his office.

“Y/N, Hey, Y/N. What are you still doing out here?” Billy was shaking me awake, he was crouched down beside the couch.

I woke with a jolt and came face to face with Billy, it took a few moments to realise where I was. I could see guilt written all over his face but that didn’t stop the anger coursing through me.

“Oh, so you're finally home then?” I bit out, a grimace sat on my face, I rubbed my eyes and stood up glaring at him waiting on an answer,

“I’m so, sorr-“

“No you're not Billy. I asked one thing from you alright. One thing. You haven’t properly been home in months and I ask you to be home for 7, a decent time, so we could eat together and spend time together. But why would I be so stupid to ask for something so impossible huh? I mean what are you even doing billy? What keeps you out until, what 1am?”

“Nothing Y/N. I’ve just been working hard ok. Business has been busy lately, I’ve been in the office, I’ve got a lot going on”

“What? Until 1am? How do you think that makes me feel? For all I know you could have some side chick that I don’t even know about instead I’m made to look like a joke”

“No.” he said shaking his head, “I would never, Y/N. Never cheat on you!”

“Then what am I supposed to think? You’re out of the door before I’m awake and back home after I fall asleep.”

“That’s because I’m busy at work Y/N. Trying to build a life for us, trying to build a future for us!”

“For us?” I yelled, “For us? What us? At the moment there is no us Billy. We have a long distance relationship despite us living in the same apartment. I don’t see you anymore Billy. So how can you say that you’re doing this for us when the last time I saw you were in your office. I mean you’ve bailed on me so much lately, whenever we have a reservation booked you always reschedule, I cooked tonight. I was so excited because I would finally get to spend time with you, but that’s not even possible is it?” I Yelled at him, “You might as well just fucking camp out at work because I don’t even know why you come home at this point”

“Well what do you expect when you're like this?” he threw back at me out of anger, “I’ve been home two minutes and all you do is whine”

“All I do is whine? I wouldn’t be whining if you spent more than an hour a week at home at a reasonable hour. I mean why can’t you listen to a single thing I say? All I’m saying is I want to spend more time with you. But now, I might as well just leave, I don’t even know why I’m still here” I said shoving myself past him and towards the door,

“Fucking hell Y/N” He said yelling for me but I ignored it, I felt the tears running down my face and walked to get my shoes on and I just walked out with Billy still calling for me.

***

Billy P.O.V

As soon as I walked in I knew I had fucked up. I completely forgot the promise that I made to Y/N, that she planned a date night for us. I felt bad that I was never around, but business had been crazy, I was working 7 days a week, near enough 16 hour days, and didn’t have any time. I saw the food, I saw her empty plate on the table, and she was curled up on the couch, she had every right to be angry, but that angered me, the moment she accused me of being with someone else when the only person I want is her, yet now I don’t even know what's going on with us. I was tired, it had been a long day, a long week and the last thing I wanted to do was argue, so instead I went to get in bed, I’m sure she’ll be back later on.

I don’t know how long I was tossing and turning in the bed for, yet she hadn't come back. It was the middle of the night and she was just out there somewhere, by herself, upset and angry.

I grabbed my phone to call her but it went right to voicemail, I was a bit lost on who to call but took the plunge and called Frank,

It took a few minutes but he eventually answered the phone, “This better be good Russo” He grumbled,

“I just wanted to know if Y/N was there at all?” I asked,

“No. She’s not. Why what the fuck have you done Bill?” He sounded awake within seconds but I just pinched the bridge of my nose,

“Nothing Frankie. Nothing. Sorry I woke you”

After hanging up I went to grab my keys to go looking for her.

Y/N P.O.V

I had no clue where to go. I only had my bag on me, and just had to get out of there. I was wiping my face, my makeup probably all ruined but I just left the apartment building and started to walk anywhere. It was 1am, on a Saturday night in New York City, it was bust but I felt so alone.

I walked aimlessly for ages, I missed him. I missed being around Billy. I missed us waking up together, having lazy mornings every now and then, I missed being able to talk to him. He was my best friend, but now, now he felt like a stranger.

I eventually flagged down a taxi and realised the safest place for me tonight would be my old apartment.

I caught a taxi there and realised they were both asleep, I used my key to let myself in and went straight for my room. In there I had everything I ever needed, a teddy I had from when I was little which was always there for me at times like this. I just hugged it and got under the covers unable to go sleep.

Not long later there was a knock on the apartment door, I sighed and knew they didn’t even know I was home so got out of my bed to go answer the door,

“Y/N” Billy started relieved to see me, “Come on let's go home,” he said,

“I am home Billy” I grumbled, “So you go home. Nothing of yours is here, whereas I have everything of mine here. So just leave”

He just looked at me before shaking his head, next thing I knew he had picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, “Billy” I gasped, “What are you doing?” He instead shut the door behind me and started walking.

“You said nothing of mine was there. Truth is, everything of mine was. You were. If you think I’m letting you go Y/N, you can think again. I love you, and I’m not going to let a stupid argument loose you, instead, I’ll be better alright”

“Billy, let me at least get my shoes, I can’t just walk out with my teddy”

He let out a laugh, “We’ll get your shoes tomorrow. We’ll get everything tomorrow, and you'll officially be moved in with me” He said, a few minutes later he set me down in his car and I couldn’t help but glare at him, but I wanted to smile. He had such an innocent look on his face, “I’ll give you the rest of the car journey home to be as pissed as you want, but when we get home, we’ll talk alright” He said to me.

I didn’t say anything and instead tucked my feet up on the seat, I know he hates this, but I don’t care. I snuggled up with my teddy in my arms and couldn’t help the frown on my face as I looked out the window.

When we got to the apartment building I got out and was willing to walk with my socks still on my feet but he came around and picked me up bridal style.

I didn’t say anything but rested my head on his chest, “I hate you, you know that” I grumbled,

“Yeah and I love you too,” He said back a smile on his face,

“I don’t want to say too much though, might make it seem like I’m whining”

“Wow” He muttered, “Fucking whine all you like, wouldn’t be you if you weren’t whining.”

“Well not like you’re around to hear me whine anyway”

“Guess I’ll have to change that huh? I won’t go to work tomorrow, and I’ll start coming back at a reasonable time. Heck, tell you what, you remember when I promised you a few months ago that we could go away? Book time off of work, and then we can go wherever you like”

After we were in the apartment he set me down on my feet again, “You’re not going work tomorrow?” I asked like a little pouting child but so much hope in my eyes,

“No” He whispered looking at me, “Not if me basically living at work will cost me the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can get my work done at any time. I’ll even start to bring some paperwork home if it comes to it, that way I can do what I usually do when everyone's gone home. That way I can spend time with you, and get what I need to done as well. How does that sound”

Instead of anything I just hugged him, “I fucking hate you Billy because I missed you so much, so much Bill. And I love you, I couldn’t hate you, and I’m sorry, I just, I got angry. I miss you because I never see you but now I’ll feel bad because you have so much to do and I know you work hard and sorry for accusing you of cheating I just...”

“You know I would never intentionally hurt you. You’re it for me Y/N and I wouldn’t ever cheat on you. But I love you too Y/N. And I’m sorry”

I stepped back from him and looked at him, “Although, now you have to share the bed with my best friend” I told him while hugging my teddy,

He just stood there and laughed but shook his head, “Come on, let’s get some sleep. I’ll make us breakfast in the morning” He said and we both went to get some sleep and for once we went to sleep together.

#Billy Russo x reader #Billy Russo Imagine #Billy Russo #The Punisher #Punisher Fic #Billy Russo Fic #Angst #Fluff #billy russo x you #Punisher Imagine #Marvel imagine #marvel fic

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queeenpersephone · 6 years

Note

Hey, could you please write an Ironwidow fic with this prompt? Prompt: Natasha has always been the best at everything since her days at the red room, only... feelings are not her thing. So when she starts to notice that she's developing feelings for Tony she tries to show him in ways that make everyone in the tower think that she's acting really weird and confuses Tony about her constant presence and increased closeness and physical contact.

Omggg anon so I love this prompt sorry it’s taken me so long! I’m graduating university in a month and so I’ve been losing my mind haha.

“Sir, Agent Romanoff is here to see you.”

Tony jerks awake, immediately trying to catch all the various wretches and bolts that his arms had knocked off the table. The lab is dark, and he knows he must’ve fallen asleep against his will, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“Should I allow her entrance?”

Tony waves a hand at the ceiling, rubbing his eyes and stretching. “Yeah, J, why not?” The door slides open. “It’s not like she’d leave me alone if I said no,” he says loudly, laying his head back on the table.

Very characteristically, he doesn’t hear Natasha until she is right next to him. After a long two minutes of her not saying anything, he raises his head, trying to focus on her with bleary eyes.

When he does, he stands so quickly that his stool falls over. “What is it?” He asks urgently. Because Natasha, in all honesty, looks extremely freaked out.

Oh, it’s not that it’s obvious. Her expression is stoic, her eyebrows raised, and her posture relaxed. But Tony has been living with this woman upwards of seven months now, and he can tell by the look in her eye that something has her very off-balance. It’s not a feeling or understanding that he can explain without admitting to himself that he watches her. A lot. More than is appropriate.

Natasha stares back at him, obviously warring with herself on what to say. When she does speak, there is nothing of the usual Natasha in it - smooth and careful, with a soft smirk that makes them all uncertain that she’s saying what she means.

“You’re out of shape.”

The words are abrupt, delivered with little to no emotion.

“Meet me in the training room tomorrow,” she adds, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

Tony just gapes at her. “I-“ he tries, but Natasha has already turned to leave.

Just as her hair flashes to disappear around the corner, she lobs something at him. He catches it against his chest as a reflex.

“Don’t order pizza tonight,” she calls, and he hears the elevator doors close behind her.

Tony holds out the item she threw in front of him. It is a brown paper bag, and inside is a neatly prepared salad.

What the actual fuck?

2 months later

“Cap, you gotta help me.”

Steve looks up from his book on the Vietnam War, uncrossing his legs and sitting up. “What can I do for you, Tony?”

Tony paces back and forth in front of Steve, who is patiently waiting for him to speak in a wholesome way only Captain America can. He doesn’t particularly want to break Natasha’s confidence, and he’s honestly enjoying spending more time with her. But she’s been killing him in the gym, leaving him healthy snacks and downloading wellness apps into JARVIS’ system, and refusing any attempt from him to reciprocate her gifts. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so confused in his life.

“Okay, I’m just gonna get straight to it,” Tony replies, ignoring Steve’s raised eyebrow clearly saying ‘when do you not?’. “Nat’s really freaking me out.”

Steve looks up at him, bemused. “Sit down, Tony,” he says, waiting for Tony to settle himself on the couch. He is still twitching, unable to sit still. “Now, explain.”

Tony does, detailing early morning workouts and careful pats of encouragement on the shoulder, salads and almonds randomly appearing in his lab, the lights shutting out at 1am - obviously Natasha and JARVIS conspiring.

When he finishes, Steve waits for a long moment before responding. “Yeah, we’ve noticed that Nat’s been working with you - and before now, I honestly wouldn’t have thought it bothered you. What else is up?”

Tony furrows his brow. “Okay, hold up Cap, you’re observant and everything but-“ then, he winces, looking up at the vents. “Okay, Legolas, game’s up,” he says, not even raising his voice a little, and Clint drops from the ceiling with a shrug.

Steve, on the other hand, looks sheepish. “Look, I was… concerned about you and Romanoff. After HYDRA and the Mandarin - I wanted to make sure it wasn’t some-“

Tony cuts him off. “Wasn’t some what? We’re just friends! Not even that some days - she’s just making sure I don’t die or, y’know, disappoint the team with my slow reactions.”

Clint snorts. “Yeah? Then why did you buy her front row seats to the opera?”

Tony turns red. “I - she’s been working with me, even if she hates it- and I just really wanted to do something for her. I mean, we were talking during training and she’s been through a lot.”

Clint is unfazed. “Yeah, okay, makes sense. Friends do that. Now, why did you buy her a house upstate?”

Steve whips his head to look at Tony so quickly that he nearly falls off the couch. “You bought her a what?”

Tony puts his hands up, refusing to meet their eyes. “Look, she needs a safe place! This is my house, and the rest of her places are for covers. I just- I wanted her to have a place that belonged just to her.” Steve just gapes at him, but Clint can’t help the smile forming across his face. “It doesn’t matter anyways,” he admits, leaning back against the couch. “She told me she didn’t want it.” He rubs his eyes, leaving his hand there to block whatever their expressions have become. “She’s giving me a lot, y’know? She’s helped me with nightmares and I feel stronger - and I shouldn’t even tell you guys this but… I like her, okay? I really like her. And she’s just being a good teammate.”

He takes his hand off his eyes and immediately registers the looks of horror on both their faces. “Oh Jesus,” he groans, “why are you guys upset? Is this an age-thing? She’s only ten years younger than me! And it’s never gonna happen, it’s not feas-“

A soft voice interrupts him from the door. “Tony,” it says, surprised and maybe - nervous?

Steve and Clint shoot to their feet, and Tony realizes they hadn’t been horrified at his feelings, but at him accidentally revealing them while Natasha stood silently behind him.

Oh god, just kill him now.

“We’re gonna go,” Clint says, grabbing Steve by the arm and almost dragging him out of the room. Natasha and Tony watch them go, making sure the door is shut before she turns back to him.

“Any chance we can just - forget I said any of that and go back to normal?” Tony tries.

“I like normal,” Natasha says slowly. “But I’m not sure I can forget,” she admits.

Tony puts his head in his hands, leaning over. He feels like he’s going to be sick. “You can go, Romanoff. I know you want to.” Everyone does, he doesn’t add; it’s not fair to her.

He hears a sigh, then he feels her crouch down in front of him, laying a hand on his knee. “In the Red Room,” she begins, hesitant. “We weren’t allowed to show emotions. We didn’t know what love was.” He takes a hand from his head to squeeze hers, unwilling to leave her without comfort yet still unwilling to look at her. “I know how to seduce men,” she admits, and he flinches. “I don’t say that to hurt you,” she adds quickly. “I just mean - making sure you stay alive and healthy, I can do that. I knew how to do that.”

Tony isn’t stupid, and her words cause hope to unfurl in his chest. “My gifts…”

Natasha is quick to respond. “I didn’t want you to think I was doing it for favors. That’s all it’s ever been for me, and I wanted this to be different.”

“But you actually do-“

“Yeah,” Natasha interrupts. “I do. Tony, could you look at me?”

He gathers his courage and meets her eyes, surprised and thrilled to see them shining. “You know,” he drawls. “You could’ve just held my hand instead of kicking my ass every morning.”

She nods to their joined hands. “The ass kicking isn’t going to stop, no matter what,” she warns him, and he laughs, sliding a hand around her waist and the other in her hair, pulling her up to press their foreheads together.

“I’m not going to another ass-kicking session unless I get a kiss,” he teases, freezing when he feels her tense in his arms. “Oh, I mean, unless I’ve read this completely wrong in which case, feel free to kick my ass Nat, I’m sorry-“

Natasha unfreezes at his rambling, smiling so wide that he nearly doesn’t recognize her. “I’m not,” she says blithely, pulling herself up to straddle his lap and pressing her lips to his.

Clint and Steve sit in the kitchen, waiting to find out whether they need to break out the champagne or the ice cream. When neither Tony nor Natasha come out of the lounge, they relax; everything must be going well.

Clint laughs. “You know, Nat’s not well versed in relationships, but I thought she’d be able to woo Tony better than this.”

Steve smirks at him. “I might’ve told her that Tony appreciates someone taking care of him… and likes a woman who can overpower him physically.”

Clint gapes at Steve. “Dude, I underestimated you.” He pauses for a long minute. “Although I think it backfired if your intent was to fuck with them.”

Steve shrugs. “Who says that was my intent? Tony wasn’t doing too well after the Mandarin, and he’s always liked Nat more than he admits. Nat needs someone to call home, and Tony’s exactly her type. I think they needed each other.”

Clint’s eyes widen even further. “Damn, Cap, you’re like a mastermind.”

Steve winks at him. “Well, I am the leader of the Avengers.”

“Captain Rogers, as per usual, Mr. Stark would like me to remind you that you are correct, but without him, and I quote ‘none of you would look cool’.” JARVIS pauses. “Actually, Captain, Mr. Stark wishes for me to tell you, for a full 24 hours, you may be the leader of the Avengers unconditionally. He reminds you to enjoy it.”

Steve laughs. “I got you together - I can break you apart!” He shouts to the lounge.

Natasha steps out, pulling Tony by the hand to the elevator. She throw a wink to the boys as Tony rushes to catch her, slinging an arm around her waist. “Get your own smoking hot assassin, Cap. This one’s mine.”

#ironwidow #natasha x tony #marvel #marvel writing #my writing #ironwidow fic #prompts #answered #you guys can send me these any time!#hope you like it!#natashastarkotp #the-writing-asexual #myedit #natasha romanoff #tony stark

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seungminty · 6 years

Text

For granted //Jisung

words: 2.1k

genre: a n g s t

It’s 1am and I’m trash for angst and Jisung, enjoy.

-mads <3

part 2

Friday, 11:54pm

I sighed when I saw the time as I checked my phone yet again. Struggling to keep my eyes open, I mindlessly clicked on another episode of Brooklyn 99, snuggling deeper into my blanket in an attempt to distract myself from the tears that were slowly gathering at the corners of my eyes. Jisung had said he would facetime me after rehearsals, but after 4 hours of radio silence, I was quickly losing hope.

Not like I should be surprised.

This had become a regular occurrence in our relationship throughout the past few months; I’d plan dates, he’d cancel them. We’d hang out, he’d work the whole time. We’d argue, he’d come back a few days later, full of flowers and apologies, and I’d fall for him all over again.

Don’t get me wrong, of course I knew that dating an idol would bring challenges, especially since Stray Kids were so well-known, as well as being self-producing. And for a while, we actually made it work. Yeah, Jisung worked most of the time, but I was also busy with college and my waitressing job. However, we always found time for each other, even if it was just Jisung popping into the cafe to give me lunch, or a pizza night with the boys.

So yeah, I knew it would be hard, just not... not this hard.

It wasn't like he’d gotten busier, he was always busy, so was I, but he just didn't make the effort anymore. Every time he cancelled on me to hang with the boys or ignored my good morning texts, my heart broke just a little bit more. We’d argue about his newfound attitude often, but it seemed to tear me apart far more than it did him. Before I could fully explain the extent of the loneliness I felt inside, he would cut me off and accuse me of being too clingy, with many insults thrown in too. He would later blame his foul words on stress, but I had heard that excuse so many times I didn't know what to believe anymore. One thing was certain, though, Jisung had changed. We had changed. I wasn't a priority anymore, and it was destroying me.

There had always been a small part of me that still believed this was just a phase, that we could go back to the old us. But I soon realized that that was impossible. I knew that Jisung still loved me, and I knew that he still had a heart of gold, but I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he didn't want to invest time in us anymore.

I guess we're just on different paths now.

I was suddenly pulled from my depressing train of thought by my phone. Jisung’s name on my phone screen had become such a rare sight that I stared at my lock screen for several seconds before actually reading the text.

Sorry went to the studio after practice and lost track of time.

The studio. That damn studio.

It was once a place filled up with happy memories, memories of Jisung giddily showing me a hook he’d finally perfected, or lyrics that he’d say I inspired him to write, which always caused both our cheeks to tint pink.

But now, it was the place my boyfriend chose over me, time and time again. I always admired his passion for music, and the last thing I wanted was to be one of those annoying girlfriends who want their boyfriend to only ever spend time with her, but was it really so bad that I wanted my boyfriend to make me feel important every once in a while?

These were the thoughts circulating in my head as I quickly pulled on my shoes and walked out the door towards the studio. By this point, I was so hurt and confused, I didn't have the faintest idea of what I was going to say to Jisung, I just knew that I had to see him. I had to make the pain stop.

I arrived at the studio sooner than I had expected, and a quick glance at the clock above the desk in the darkened reception area revealed that it was a little past 1am.

Wow, what a fun way to be spending your Friday night, y/n.

I sighed as I stood outside his studio door, doing my best to prepare myself for what was to come, whatever the hell that was.

Eventually, I plucked up the courage to open the door, and it creaked open agonisingly slowly to reveal a mop of tangled blonde hair, slumped at a mixing board. I walked up to him, thinking he was asleep, and was about to wake him up when he suddenly spun around towards me, eyes wide and mouth agape, clearly startled by my visit.

“Hey” he stated, his voice deep with exhaustion.

“Oh, hey” I managed to breathe out, my mouth had become dry the moment I walked in, like my subconscious knew that something big was going to go down tonight.

We remained in an awkward silence for a while, none of us knowing how to react to this new dynamic. Life was Jisung was never quiet, ever.

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly.

I looked him properly in the eyes for the first time that night, and I couldn't hide the puzzled expression on my face.

“Oh...uh, what for? It was just a facetime call, no biggie.”

No biggie? Really? Not like you wallowed in your sadness while finishing off a whole damn tub of ice cream, y/n.

Jisung looked even more shocked than me now, shaking his head and laughing lightly before speaking again.

“Oh, ok that’s fine then. Thought I missed a date or something like that. So how come you’re here then, shouldn’t you be asleep?”.

Even though I had played it off as nothing earlier, I still felt my heart sink at his statement. There was a time when Jisung would've apologised a hundred times over for forgetting to text me goodnight, now he’s so distant he doesn’t even really know what he’s apologising for.

“I, I uh, I just wanted to see you, and I don’t know, have a chat about stuff?” My words came out more like a question, and I cringed at how awkward it sounded. Jisung sighed, running his hands down his face.

“I guess, but I’ve still got this guide track to finish and its getting late, maybe some other time yeah?” He said, already turning back round in his chair.

“No, Jisung, I need to talk, and you need to listen to me,” I stated, my voice so loud that it startled both of us.

“Right... Y-yeah sure y/n, um... what’s up?” He gulped, wide-eyed and still taken aback by my tone. I was never really one to raise my voice, but I was desperate now, trying to stitch up our fractured love before it disappeared forever.

But then, I realised. I don't think there’s any love left to fix.

I took a deep breath, trying my hardest to steel my nerves before saying the words I vowed I never would.

“Ji, this isn’t working. We... we aren’t working anymore.”

Those words hung Over the silent room like a thick black veil, suffocating me, and as I hesitantly looked at Jisung, it seemed like they were suffocating him too. He was frozen, staring at the ground in shock, before jerking his head up to search my face with panicked eyes as his hands began to shake.

“I-I... no, you can’t... we’re not, it’s fine-” He spluttered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. I watched with pained eyes as the man I loved unravelled before me, and it was all my fault.

His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to actually say anything, I began to speak, doing my best not to burst into tears.

“Things are just different now. You’re always so busy and that’s great, I'm so so proud of you, but there just isn't enough room for me in your life anymore. We never hang out, and when we do we just argue. And I'm sorry, but I just can't take it anymore, I can't take anymore cancelled dates or ignored messages, because it's destroying me, Jisung. And yes, maybe I am just weak and clingy, but I've got to put myself first for once because god-fucking-damn it Jisung, I've been so sad for so fucking long, and my own boyfriend has no idea!” By the end of my speech, I was nearly screaming, and I quickly realised that the dampness on my cheeks was from the many tears that were now uncontrollably cascading down my face.

Now, the only sounds in the room were my slight panting and the occasional sniffle. Jisung remained unblinking, still frozen in the same position. It wasn't until I shook my head and turned towards the door that he reached forward and grabbed my arm.

“No!” he shouted, panic clear in his voice. I looked at him, he too, had tears streaming down now, the sight making what was left of my poor heart shatter.

“No... you can’t leave, I’m sorry ok? Really sorry. I-I took you for granted. You were always by my side so I guess I thought you’d stay there forever, because I honestly can’t imagine my world without you in it y/n, standing right next to me. I know I’m a shit boyfriend, and hearing how hurt you are because... because of me, kills me more than you’ll ever know. Honestly, this comeback had me feeling stressed out and down I didn't know what to do, but now I realise, that the only thing that could've made me feel happy again.. was you. Of course it was you. You are my heaven y/n, and I swear I’ll never desert you again. I’m such a fucking idiot, I was so sad that I pushed you away, even though you're the only one who can make me happy.” He laughed bitterly, but his expression quickly reverted to fear as he saw me shaking my head, tears still endlessly falling.

“I’m sorry Jisung... but I just can’t fall for your apologies again. My heart can’t take any more of this, but I'm sure you'll find a-a nice girl... maybe an idol, someone who’s pretty and isn't so weak that they fall apart like me.” I began to walk away again, determined not to turn back again, in fear that I’d break down even further.

Behind me, Jisung was really panicking now. He couldn't believe this was actually happening. He knew hed been a shitty boyfriend. But he thought that soon he’d feel less stressed and everything would go back to normal. They were Jisung and y/n, they were madly in love and everyone knew it, they couldn’t just break up like this. It was only when I had reached for the door handle did he react.

“Angel, please.”

I hesitated at those words.

Angel. Even thinking of his pet name for me made me want to break down. It reminded me of happier times, when we were so in love we felt we were invincible, a feeling that was all but a distant memory now.

Against my better judgment, I turned round to see Jisung slumped on the floor on his knees, head bowed and body shaking with sobs.

I knew what I had to do. I knew what was best, for both of us.

“I love you Jisung, and know that I’ll always be cheering you on, always.”

I took one last look at the boy who held my heart so tightly that he’d crushed it, before moving to the door, shutting it quietly behind me.

FIN.

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sebbytrash · 7 years

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Through His Eyes - Part Six

Summary - Bucky arrives at the compound to start afresh but you and him have a somewhat colorful past, colorful being that you met him once before as The Winter Soldier and it did not go well. New beginnings, yeah? If you can learn to forgive.

Pairing - Eventual Bucky x Reader

Warnings - Nothing really, some sad vibes.

A/N - I’m so sorry its taken so long to get this out. I got major bad juju and had to take a sec. Feedback loved and appreciated.

Through His Eyes Masterlist

Dead eyes.

The knife presses to your skin, dragging fire up your arm. Its agony, and yet familiar. You know this pain, you wear it well. He drops the knife, steps back into the shadows. Face distorted like an unfocused lens.

You look down. Blood rolls down your fingertips. It’s there. The next letter. Y

A blink, then another. It changes, the dead eyes turn terrified. He stumbles forward, a small red circle appears on his chest. It grows and grows till its running lines down his t-shirt. He touches it, shock marring his features, hand comes away wet and red.

He looks at you, fear in his very real eyes. Help me, he mouths, raises a hand towards you and stumbles to his knees. You look down again.

See the gun in your hand.

You gasp awake, breathing hard and heavy. Face wet and muscles aching, wipe a hand hastily across your cheeks as you sit up. A quick check of your phone tells you its 1am. Great, you’ve been asleep for an hour tops. The dreams were back, for the time being at least, had been since the mission last week. They've changed, of course, and you can guess why but choose to ignore it, choose to focus on the fear.

Bucky has been fairly scarce since the mission and you don't blame him. If you think too long on it, the guilt reaches up from your stomach and wraps a hand round your throat.

It's a while before your able to fall back asleep, chased by the screams and darkness. You dream about him until morning.

“Good Morning, Marshmallow.” Sam rests his knuckles on your shoulder as he passes.

“Is It?” You reply, the bitterness of the words taste heavy on your tongue.

“Still not sleeping?” He asks, reaching over to fill up the cup your nursing like it's made of gold.

“Not really,” You say and then quieter, “The dreams are back.”

Sam knows, he gets it. He spent years plagued by his own demons, falls and fights that still rear their heads on the odd occasion. So when he gives you the look, the not pity but a shared pain look it's not something you worry about. It's not pity from him.

“Same as usual?” He asks, taking a seat across the table from you.

“Well yeah, I mean they start out that way.” You say, look up from the cup to meet his eyes, “But I always kill him in the end.”

“Ah.” There it is. The silence you were worried about, the fears that your getting worse instead of better voiced in one single syllable. Your stomach drops to your toes, swirls around on it's way down and threatening to come back up quick.

“I thought, I mean... I felt- I was dealing, ya know? Why am I back peddling?”

“I don’t think that's what it is.” Sam states, solid and firm like he’s sure of it. That sure makes one of you.

“What do you mean?” Murder seems pretty clear, no?

“I think, maybe, that it has nothing to do with you being afraid of him. Stay with me here, but before he was hurting you, right?” You nod, leaning onto your forearms, “And that was pretty clearly fear. See now with you being the one to hurt him, I reckon it’s guilt.”

“Guilt.” Guilt. Sure, yeah, you’d been feeling a lot of that recently. Life was pretty damn complicated right now.

“Yeah. Look, what's happened, it’ll stay with you forever. But to be honest, it’s pretty clear to me that your not afraid anymore. Not fundamentally…” You arch a brow at him, thinking back to the mission but he halts you before you can protest, “Ok that was a knee jerk thing. But it’s happened now and you’ve dealt with it. I’d bet my Wings it won’t happen again.”

“You seem awfully sure of that.” Your tone sounds defeated, even to you.

“Because I am. You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit ya know.” He reaches over and places a hand on your arm, the weight of his words are giving you something to reach for, something to hold onto, “You are the strongest person I know. And I know The Avengers.”

You laugh at that, grateful for the reprieve, and he joins you, lets you lose yourself in the moment.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, kid. You’re the best of us.”

“You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Wanda asks for maybe the 5th time.

“I’m sure. Got my night planned you see, there’s a Pizza and a new season of Brooklyn 99 with my name on it.” You insist, knowing you’d rather be here than out at a club right now.

“Just...call me if you need anything, okay?” She chews her bottom lip a bit before adding, “I mean anything.”

“I promise, okay? Cross my heart n’all that. No go, get. Have a good time. You deserve it.”

Wanda and a few others were going out. Steve was on another mission. You weren't really sure who was around tonight and you didn't really care. Tonight was all about relaxing, really letting yourself have a night of nothing. No social expectations, no small talk or knowing looks. Just you, Gina Linetti and a Pepperoni beauty.

Sam had helped you remember that you’d come a long way these last few months, certainly further than the years before that. Setbacks were ok, and you were learning to be grateful for the progress and small stuff.

Forgiveness has to start with you.

You’re a good 2 hours in when the world goes black. Or the room, depends on the perspective. It should phase you, but it doesn’t. Truthfully, not much does anymore. Combat training and life experience will do that, you suppose. You wait a few minutes for the power to come back, but it doesn't. Steve’s nagging voice in your head about having emergency supplies for such occasions makes you laugh, having always dismissed him because the likelihood of that happening anywhere near Tony was infinitesimal and yet here you were cross-legged on your bed in the dark. He’ll love this.

It’s another minute or so before you huff and drag yourself out of bed, tentatively making your way to the door since you figure you better go find and somehow fix the generator. Everyone’s out, either on a mission or partying. Either way, you're on your own. Great.

In the hallways, the dim, blue back up lights are on giving you a better view after your eyesight adjusts to it. You march down the hall towards the stairs, not bothering to put on shoes in your hurry to get there and back, annoyed more than anything that this happens tonight when Tony isn’t here to take care of it. A quick eye roll at your own selfish thoughts, how quick you lean on him for these types of things. It's quiet, nothing more than the soft hum of the dim lights and the slap of your feet on the concrete, a melodic soundtrack that despite your best reasoning makes the hairs on your arms stand.

Slap Slap. Slap Slap. Surely regretting the hasty exit without those shoes now, the cold starting to seep into your toes.

You finally, finally, reach the room where the generator is, can just about make out the sign on the door and the Tony-esque warnings not to enter. It's large, heavy and takes most of your body weight to shift open but with surprisingly little noise. Figures that Tony has even his doors to near perfection. So you enter, silent, close the door quiet behind you and step further into the room. It's hotter, you notice, but also duller. Harder to make out the shapes of things, dark silhouettes give little indication where you might begin fixing the problem. You smooth your feet along the floor, careful not to overstep or miss anything, the last thing you need is ending up breaking a leg and starving to death all because you tripped over your own feet. Steve's words come back to haunt you again.

“You never know when you might need a torch, Y/N.”

Damn Boy Scout. The fucking irony.

As you get further into the room you start to make out more shapes, glance and peer along the wall until you see what might resemble a switchboard and slowly head to it. When you open the box and run your hand over the labels, it's really at this point you truly understand just how out of your depth you are.

Over 50 switches stare down at you, mocking you. Shit.

Is there an on switch? Ha!

You run a hand down your face in almost defeat, figure there's nothing for it and start flipping switches on and off at random, pausing for small moments in between for any effects. Tony will understand, you think, maybe. Probably.

“I'm not sure that's helping.” The voice comes out of the dark behind you and startles you so much you fall forward and smash your hand against 10 or so switches at once, heart thumping wildly against your ribs like it might crack them open.

You know exactly who it is, once your brain catches up, know exactly the voice and the soft tones behind it.

Bucky.

There's fear mixed with relief, but not fear of him, at least not that you can determine. It's all muddled inside you but your surer now that the relief is that it's him and no one else, and that's a new and welcome feeling.

“Shit, sorry.” He rushes out as you spin to face him, “Didn't mean to scare you.”

“No, you didn't.” You rush back, “I mean yes, I was expecting anyone to be here...but you didn't scare me.”

You watch him process the thing you're saying without saying, squint a bit in the darkness to witness the softening of his brow and small, almost infinitesimal widening of his eyes. He gets it. You hope. It's dark, sure, but you can still make out his face and it's the first time you really stop and take notice of it, without the demons. Really notice the slant of his lip into that curve, or the stellar lines of his jaw and think, objectively of course, that he was probably a hit with the ladies back in the day. His day.

He shifts a little on his feet and you realise you’re staring, but also that he is too. He's so unsure of you, so unsure of himself, shifting from one foot to the other like he's clearly uncomfortable, a vast contrast to his unflinching gaze. Like he won't move till you move. You break the stare with a few blinks and give him your back, gesture a bit at the switchboard, “So, uh, clearly I know what I'm doing… got any ideas?”

“Yeah, can I?” He points at the board and you move to let him see, step back a bit to keep the distance and watch him run along the board with a finger reading the numbers and letters like they make any sort of sense (which they don't). His fingers move over the switches you flipped, switching them back and then, you assume, makes a few calculated decisions. On the last one, there's a faint him and click, before the lights blink back on and blind you both a little.

“Well, color me impressed.” You say, and you mean it. He has fixed what you were so clearly not, and in less than 60 seconds. Perhaps Tony was teaching him a few things?

“Hhmm. I guess I learned a lot of things over the years.” He turns and heads towards the door, “After I learned how to remember, that is.”

Of course...the memory wipes. You’d heard a bit about it, but never really thought about it. Another thought barrels right to your gut, if he remembers things like this, he probably remembers it all, right? He remembers it all.

You get so lost in your own terrifying thoughts that you don’t understand Bucky’s look at first. They way he turns back to you, frustration and apprehension written on his face. So it takes you a few seconds to read him, see what he’s feeling and finally, “What is it?”

“The doors locked.”

Forever: @manawhaat @theashhole @a-little-hell-to-raise @peculiar-persephone @captain-rogers-beard @chrisevansnco @howlingbarnes @poealsobucky @vintagevalentinexx @abovethesmokestacks @imhereforbvcky @avengerofyourheart @anakin-skywalkers @shellhaeds @stormy-thomas @danijimenezv @buchonians @stevergxrs @lancefvcker @betheboo55 @palaiasaurus64 @raxacoricofallapatoriuspotter @johnmurphys-sass @katbird787 @because-imma-lady-assface @stephie-senpai @movingonto-betterthings @sexyvixen7 @hollycornish @feelmyroarrrr @jobean12-blog @justreadingfics @justareader @smoothdogsgirl @theliarone @aikibriarrose @timeladylaurel @badassbaker @earinafae @crushed-pink-petals @purgatoan @tardis-is-mine @httpmcrvel @bucky2-0 @mocking-rain @sociallyimpairedme @jezzula @bless-my-demons @winterboobaer @ign-is @indominusregina @-supernatural-coffee-llama @alwayshave-faith @itsonlysarah @thelastxgoodthing @superwholocknda @shifutheshihtzu @mizzzpink @yknott81 @haven-in-writing @xtina2191 @reniescarlett @simplyme8308 @notsoprettykitty @tinaferraldo @wickedwerewolf @ayeputita @tori-medusa-belongs-to-bucky @winchesterswantmypie @tatalopes23 @mirkwood---princess @pineapplebooboo @mizzezm @thefridgeismybestie @memory-of-a-goldfish @supernatural-girl97 @anyakinamidala @ayeputita @standing-onthe-edge

Bucky: @beautiful-aravis @miss-mcbotty @bucky-is-my-precious @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @its-daydreamer23 @learisa @the-observant-fangirl @borkybeans @almost-dean-inside @nerdy-gal316 @brandybucky @creideamhgradochas @beefthief247 @waywardpumpkin @assbutt-son-of-a-bitch @kaaatniss @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @impalaimages @swimmeranxiety @c-olpevole

Through His Eyes: @ginger-wayward-assbutt @buckyappreciationsociety @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @miss-mcbotty @beefthief247 @luckygrahams @borkybeans @ailynalonso15 @nottheopera @marvelrevival @marvelandwinchesters927 @nairobi13 @4theluvofall @poeticblissme @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @wowspideyholland @vandread1989 @edward-lover18

#kale writes #through his eyes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #winter solder x reader #marvel fanfiction

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just--bloom-blog · 6 years

Text

it feels right (and necessary, really) to have a new place to collect and record my thoughts. 2019 has been an absolute rollercoaster, and I can’t even imagine how the next few weeks or months will go. I wish I could say I’m starting a fresh blog to simply journal the thoughts of my self-love journey, but there is another journey on which I’m embarking, the reason for this new blog.

‘I need a safe space to process my thoughts, and unfortunately, a notepad or journal are not as accessible as a phone or computer. Tumblr has always been my outlet, and I am choosing to keep it as that for now. Maybe someday I will share these posts, maybe some day they will help another girl with her struggle.

Let’s start from the beginning.

Over the weekend, I was raped by someone who I have considered a best friend for a few years. I have known him since we were in elementary school together in our incredibly small town (his small town really, since I’m an outsider to this area). But I truly felt as though this group of boys were going to be there for me unconditionally, love and protect me, stand up for me and respect me. I was wrong.

When reality hit me (nearly 48 hours later) and my mind processed the fact that this incident was in fact rape, things began to move in both slow motion and fast forward simultaneously. The first step, for me, was to recount the night in my mind.

Here is the cliff notes version-- I am planning on moving to TN in two weeks, a 14 hour drive from my current city (Philly) and the rural area in which I grew up. This meant saying goodbyes to friends who I will not be seeing for months. I started my night visiting my college roommate, drank one glass of wine while we chatted about her two kids and the upcoming wedding. I got to the bar around 10:20pm and ordered a double Sapphire and Tonic, my drink of choice. By 1am, I was blacked out. I had at least two double g&t’s and numerous (let’s say 4-5) shots of fireball. I have photos and videos on my phone at 1am that I do not remember. The next thing I do remember is one brief moment- my friend on top of me saying “I’m going to cum, can I come inside you?” and me exclaiming NO and immediately feeling disgusted and confused. Back to darkness, and the next moment I remember is waking up in a random lot, pulled up onto a hill in my car at 7(?)AM, throwing up, and falling back asleep. When I finally gained the clarity to drive, it was nearly 9am. I stopped at a gas station, bought 2 Gatorades, and drove back to my parents’ house. I was throwing up for hours, tried to eat some Shin Ramyun (my go-to at-home hangover cure), but was too nautious and exhausted to finish. Eventually, I moved from the couch to the spare bedroom and was in and out of sleep until 6pm.

There are more details about Saturday, my brief conversation with him and others, but it’s nearly 4am, and I have to speak to the police in four hours, so for now I just want to get out how I’m feeling-

I am so scared. I am confused and hurt and SO angry. I am heartbroken and disgusted. I know we joke as a generation about “all the feels” but that is exactly what is happening inside of me. I have to talk to the police about what happened, and I am absolutely terrified of the next steps.

I am finally tired enough to sleep and should capitalize on this exhaustion. So here is the first post of this journey, one that will be long and grueling. But I have never felt so compelled to stand up for myself, for other girls who have been in the same or similar situations. I am sick of silencing my voice so as not to upset the status quo in these small towns. I am praying that me standing up for this will shake the boys who do this shit to the core, that it will scare them and make them think twice about taking advantage.

And to you my ‘friend’ ... I am disgusted, disappointed, angry. I am shocked and yet somehow I am not. I will never forgive you for taking advantage of me and then dumping me at my car to drunkenly drive myself home on a bitter cold winter night. You were wrong, and I hope you finally understand that when I said NO for all those years, I meant it. And being drunk and blacked out one night does not give you the right to my body.

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viaverona · 6 years

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my saviour.

characters: wonho / paramedic!reader; partner!jooheon genre: fluff / warning: mentions of blood and alcohol word count: 1.9k summary: Wonho is drunk and injured and is convinced the medic cleaning his wounds is the cutest thing he’s ever seen. (based on this prompt)

➢ masterlist; ➢ comments & requests;

You have at least 5 more hours until you get to go home.

As you fill in the paperwork at the nurse’s station for the last case you brought into the hospital – a grouchy old man complaining of chest pains which turned out was only the big dinner he had yet he insisted you brought him in to a real doctor — you start feeling the fatigue of the night shift settling in. Nights are usually quiet around here for the EMTs, it’s quite rare something big happens. At weekends, the most frequent calls you get are from drunk youths puking their insides by the side of the road and their other pissed friends thinking they’re on the brink of death, when it’s really that fifth Jagerbomb they shouldn’t have had making its way out (Those calls should be coming in any second now). There’s always this inner struggle between the part of you who wants more and the part of you that knows more calls means people are likely suffering. So, to avoid the pressing feeling of guilt that comes with hoping to get dispatched on a good case, you instead count down the minutes until you get to return to the warmth of your bed at home.

Jooheon, your partner, trots down the hallway, his shoulders slumped, and comes up to you, letting out a deep sign as he leans onto the desk. He has just made sure the patient got taken care of by one of the doctors and doesn’t seem too thrilled about waiting around for it.

“This old man…” he sighs again for emphasis and shakes his head, “what can I do?” It’s a rhetorical question. Nothing, there’s nothing to do when someone is too stubborn to take your word that they’re in no danger and you’ve been doing this job long enough to know there’s no use arguing. “Just promise me you won’t let me become an old grump, okay?”

“I don’t plan on knowing you that long,” you laugh, capping your pen and handing the finished paperwork to the nurse behind the desk. Truthfully, Jooheon is too sweet to ever become a scrooge. In his old age he’ll probably the much too happy grandpa handing out bird feed to all the children in the park and getting mistaken for a creep because there’s no way anyone is just that kind without ulterior motives.

“Hey!” Jooheon fakes outrage and watches you walk away from him towards the ambulance you share. “Gramps there just called me a taxi driver, can you at least be nice to me for a second?”

“Not in my job description, love.”

“Aish, what am I ever going to do with you?”

There are only a couple of people you really love sharing a shift with and Jooheon is one of them. He’s smart, capable, has great reflexes and somehow always manages to calm down screaming children, which pisses you off especially because more often than not it’s you the children are screaming because. You’re not great with children and one day you’ll have to accept that. Not today though; today you can tease him for being bad with old people.

Jooheon gets into the driver seat and waits. “Ten bucks the next call is the first drunk people call of the night.”

“I’m not going to bet on something I know I’ll lose, Jooheon,” you say. “Honestly, I’m surprised it’s almost 1AM and we haven’t had any yet.”

“Maybe people got a late start today.”

Just then the radio line rustles and the dispatcher voice breaks through, announcing the new call: partygoers fell through an old store front, leaving some cut up and bleeding. Jooheon swiftly answers back and switches on the engine.

“Damn, I could be 10 bucks richer right now.”

It takes five and a half minutes for you to get to the address in the old part of town, which is now mostly bars and clubs, and the scene looks pretty much as you expected it to. The entire store front is lying in hundreds of pieces on the ground, two guys and one girl with visible lacerations on their skin sitting on the edge of the sidewalk and another older man gesticulating frantically between his phone and the now shattered window — the owner, you expect. He doesn’t look too pleased. Jooheon parks the ambulance in front of them and you get out first.

“Oh thank god you’re finally here!” the owner cuts in front of you and you take a step back in surprise. “These hooligans completely ruined my store, they’re gonna pay for it! I’m gonna press charges, I’m gonna take it to court—”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but you need to call the police for that. Now, are you injured?”

“No. But my store!”

“I’m sorry, we’re medics,” you point back at the car, that says AMBULANCE in big bold letters; hard to miss. Frankly, you don’t really care about his store and unless he’s injured, it’s not your job to care either. “Please, call the police if you would like to report this.” He’s visibly irritated by you now, but doesn’t say anything else, thankfully.

Jooheon already has his gloves on when you get back to your task and you let out a disgruntled huff he understands too well as you slip yours on. Half of the battle doing this job is not losing your cool with people who don’t seem to grasp what it is you’re supposed to do. And that’s a lot of people from old man thinking you’re a taxi service to this guy thinking you’re the police to this one lady at the start of your shift who called you in to take her dog for a walk. It’s impossible not to become even a little bit of a misanthrope doing this job.

“We need to cleans the cuts, but doesn’t look like any of you need stitches,” Jooheon flashes his best dimpled smile to the three sitting on the curb.

The girl shoots up, wobbles quite badly on her feet and nearly falls over, but manages to catch her balance just in time. “I’m calling dibs on the cute doctor!” she says, with what you assume is her trying to put on her most charming smile, but ends up being a lopsided grimace because she’s drunk out of her wits. Jooheon doesn’t argue–it would be pointless to–he just takes her hand and guides her to the back of the ambulance where his kit is.

“I guess you two are stuck with me then,” you say looking at the two other guys. One of them starts giggling like mad and the other is about to fall asleep. None of them are complaining about pain, which is good.

“I’ll go first,” the giggling guy stands up, but gets vertigo and threatens to topple over without extra support.

“How about we don’t go anywhere?” You help him sit back down and he grins at you. A cute grin, you notice; factually, objectively he has a very cute smile and you noticed, nothing wrong about that. You make sure he’s steady before you grab your own kit and take out the gauze and disinfectant. For some reason, he keeps giggling every time you do something. “What’s your name?”

He stops giggling and hums. “Hoseok.”

“Hoseok,” you repeat, he grins at the sound of his name. “How did you manage to break that window?” You slowly dab the gauze over a bleeding cut on his forehead. It’s not a deep cut, but the blood streaking down his face makes him look like he’s been through hell.

“Dunno,” Hoseok does a full body shrug. “One second we were here, then we were there and there was this big crash.” He giggles again when you push hair away from his face for easier access to clean him up. There’s something very infectious about his induced child-like happiness and you wonder if he’s like this when not under the influence. “For what it’s worth I think you’re the cute doctor.”

The last sentence catches you off guard and a laugh escapes you. Hoseok seems proud of that because his lips curl up at the ends and you try to hide your own smile and focus on what you’re doing instead of how cute he is and despite the reek of alcohol emanating off his clothes. You put on the antibiotic cream over the cut and patch it up, moving to the next one. You can feel Hoseok’s eyes burning holes into you all the while, seemingly very taken with the way your hands move over all his bloody marks.

“You’re very cute when you’re focused,” he interrupts. “Your eyebrows do this furrowing thing. Cute. I like cute.”

He’s so drunk he can barely string together a sentence, you think, stop falling for it. You ignore him, choosing instead to try and finish him and move on to the other guy now lightly snoring next to you.

“Are all the doctors where you come from as pretty as you are?” he asks again, unbothered by the lack of replies. You purse your lips to try to hide a smile. You really want him to shut up. “I hope I get injured more often.”

“Please don’t!” you yelp. You really hope sober Hoseok knows better than to get himself hurt on purpose to score a date. Not that a date would ever be on the table, who mentioned anything about a date? “Okay, you’re done. Hoseok please promise me you’re not going to hurt yourself on purpose.”

“Oh, you’re very cute when you’re serious.”

You sigh. “Promise.”

“Okay,” Hoseok giggles again. “But I do want to see you again, you saved my life.”

“You weren’t in any life-threatening danger, Hoseok,” you say matter-of-factly as you wipe some blood off the other guy’s face. He’s only half conscious and largely ignoring you.

Jooheon shows up a few minutes later to check up on you just as you’re trying to keep second guy, whose name you don’t manage to find out, from going to sleep on the concrete.

“We should call a cab for them,” he tells you then turns to Hoseok. “Would you like us to call a cab to take you home?”

“Can’t we go in your car? I’ve always wanted to ride in an ambulance.”

“NO!” Jooheon blurts out and immediately realises he said it a few notches too high. The sting of being compared to a taxi just the previous hour must still hurt him. Hoseok flinches at the outright refusal and stares at you with pleading eyes. He låooks like a lost puppy and you have to remind yourself again he’s stupidly drunk and you’re on a call, you shouldn’t be flirting with a patient.

“Don’t look at me, he said no already.” You quickly put the last patch on sleeping guy and close the kit. For once, you would actually want to say yes and take him home, but you know that’s not going to happen tonight. Hoseok is still looking from you to Jooheon and back for several moments before you can’t take any more of his big brown eyes and decide to dial up a taxi for the three of them. They’ll have to deal with the police report when they’re sober, to the owner’s dismay and you can go on your way for the rest of the night.

“She’s the cute doctor,” Hoseok grins at Jooheon, earning a pointed stare from your partner.

#monsta x #wonho #monsta x scenarios #wonho scenarios #wonho fluff #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fluff #wonho x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #*wh #olivejar

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georgialouisea · 6 years

Text

The One - Part 4

Characters - Derek x Reader, Ex Dean x Reader, Sam, Doctor Bailey. Word Count - 2890. Warnings - Angst, Fluff, Hospital situations, sad Dean, unrealistic hospital discharge times. Summary - One phone call is all it took for Dean’s life to come crashing down. He thought he was over her? Think again. A/N - I’m so glad you’re all enjoying this series.

Part 3 - Masterlist

Sam and Dean after nearly 30 hours of staying at your bedside went back to the motel to shower as you rested. After 20 minutes of convincing you that you weren’t, in fact, dead you finally beloved them and fell back asleep, Derek took their numbers and ensured he would call when you woke up.

After so long of not seeing you, Dean saw you everywhere now, riding shotgun in the Impala, walking out of the store snacks in hand, lounging on one of the motel beds, coming out of the shower in a towel surrounded by a plume of steam. Dean snapped himself from his memories as his phone rang.

Caller ID read an unknown number.

“Derek?” Dean answered the phone.

“Who?”

“Never mind who is this?” He asked running a hand down his face. Dean zoned out as he listened to a cop who knew what they do who needed help, their kind of help.

“Sam and I are busy right now but I can give you a hunter who can help you.” Dean hung up as Sam entered the room from the bathroom.

“Seriously Dean? You’re throwing hunts away to inexperienced hunters to what? Stay with her?” Sam growled at Dean for putting people in danger. “She left, you chose hunting over her she begged you to leave with her and now you think what? She’s going to throw her new life away to get back with you and hunt again?” Sam asked his voice bellowing through the cheap motel’s walls.

“Shut up.” Dean snarled as he grabbed his coat from the chair slamming the door shut behind him.

“Derek stop fussing I’m fine!” Your protests filled Dean’s ears as he approached the room you were in.

“You thought you were dead.” Derek’s voice sterner than it had been anytime with Sam or Dean.

“Well, that was a weird drugged up haze, baby I promise I’m okay.” Your voice soft and soothing. Dean would have smiled at the soothing voice he adored for years If it wasn’t for a single word that made him want to throw up ‘Baby’.

Dean remembered the first time you said it, you were both sat in a diner booth, Sam sat opposite them.

“Baby, will you pass me the sugar?” You asked glancing up at Dean as Sam choked on his toast.

“Baby?” Sam echoed. “Are you two?” Sam waved his toast at you both.

Dean didn’t respond instead he took your face in his hands and kissed you.

“Guys I’m eating here.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Sir?” A voice pulled Dean from his flashback. “You can go in.” The nurse encouraged Dean.

“Thanks.” Dean smiled at her, walking into the room Dean kept up his smile as he looked at you, you looked a lot better than you did a few hours ago. “Hey.” Dean’s smile grew to a grin as he stepped further into the room.

“Dean, hi.” You smiled at him, trying to sit up you groaned when a pain shot through you.

“No, don’t sit up.” Dean held his hands out to push you down but stopped himself.

“I’ll give you two some time to catch up, I have rounds and surgery but if you need me get someone to page me.” Derek stood up kissing your forehead to avoid the bruises and bust lip before he left the room, leaving you alone with Dean.

“What brings you to Seattle Winchester?” You asked resting your head back on your pillow, you finally had a chance to look at him, to drink him in. He looked tired, his eyes had lost their sparkle, he had a few more wrinkles and a few extra scars.

“You actually, I was your emergency contact number,” Dean spoke realising he had jumped straight in.

“What? No, you’re not Derek is.” Your eyebrows knitted together searching the blanket for your phone. “See, in case of emergency, Derek, his sister Amelia and my friend Amanda.” You explained confused why Dean was even called.

“I got a call at 5am a nurse asked for me… well, Dean Smith…”

“Oh, wait.” You stopped looking down at your cracked phone and scrolled to the ’S’ section. “You are here, well Dean Smith is.”

“Derek seems nice.” Dean switched the conversation as he pulled the chair around to face you.

“He is, Dean we don’t have to…” You began as Dean’s look cut you off. “Where’s Sam?” you asked shifting in bed, wincing in pain as you did.

“Back at the motel.” Dean sat back in his chair, both of you not wanting to pull up the past. “He’ll surface soon.”

“How’ve things been?” You asked your eyes searching Dean’s for the truth.

“Let’s not, not right now.” Dean smiled attempting to reassure you. “You look tired.”

“I was in a car crash Dean.” You smirked making Dean chuckle.

“I don’t mean that just take a nap,” Dean mumbled as he slouched further into his chair resting his head on the back of the seat.

Minutes later your eyes fluttered shut, your breathing fell into a slow pattern as you slept. Dean watched your chest rise and fall as Doctors and nurses checked on you more frequently than a normal patient would be monitored.

Doctor Bailey returned to the room waking you up to give you a quick checkup. “Miranda?” Your voice was groggy as you tried to sit up.

“No stay still, lay back down.” She insisted and you obeyed collapsing back down into the pillows. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re still a shit liar I see.” Dean raised his eyebrow as he looked at you.

“Fine, I hurt.” You gave in trying to put a brave face on it. “God I hate you sometimes Winchester.” You groaned flashing him a quick smile.

“Here, this should help.” Doctor Bailey spoke as she injected more drugs into the IV.

“How am I doing?” You asked her with a smile.

“You’re doing well!” Miranda smiled as she gave your hand a squeeze. “As long as you keep healing how you have been you’ll be home soon!”

“I miss my bed.” You sighed.

“Well, rest up and you’ll be home soon, Derek should be around soon.” Doctor Bailey added before she left.

“You know no one has even told me about the other driver or my car, I bet it’s totalled.” You mumbled your hand flopping over your eyes a few wires hitting your face.

“Want me to try and find out?” Dean asked his elbows rested on his knees.

“If you want to, but dear Lord don’t use a fake ID here.” You removed your hand and rolled your eyes knowing where Dean’s thought process was going. “Use Derek’s name, say you’re asking for him.” You warned Dean. “I’m going to sleep while I don’t hurt.”

“Okay, get some rest.” Dean left the room rolling his own eyes at thought of Derek being popular here.

When Dean returned to your room you were fast asleep. Derek was slumped over in the chair previously occupied by Dean, opposite him sat Sam flicking through what Dean could only assume was a lore book.

“Hi, Sammy,” Dean whispered unsure of Derek’s sleep situation.

“He’s asleep Dean,” Sam answered bluntly.

“Don’t get all butt hurt, sure I left you but you’re here right, how’d you get here?” Dean asked his brother.

“Uber.”

“What are you reading?” Dean questioned attempting to diffuse the situation.

“Research on a case you palmed off on another hunter.” Sam glared at Dean.

“Okay, let’s talk about it later.” Dean gave up not wanting either you or Derek to hear the conversation even subconsciously.

8:30pm

Derek had returned to another surgery leaving you, Sam and Dean alone. At each of your checkups, you had been improving every hour. Doctor Bailey returned to the room your file in hand.

“Doctor Bailey, please tell me I can go home soon! I’m going crazy!” You groaned sitting up.

“Derek’s surgery ends at 1am, I feel confident you can go home and recover with him then.” She advised.

“Can I not go home now? If Sam and Dean stay with me?” You blurted out, giving her a smile.

Doctor Bailey glanced at Sam and Dean. “If.” She raised a finger to each man. “If you two check on her regularly and one of you is with her at all times.” Doctor Bailey concluded.

“Thank you!” You grinned at her. “One last thing, I don’t have my house keys, they were on my car keys.”

“I’ll ask Derek for his,” Miranda added as she left the room.

50 minutes later you had officially been discharged, you were now sat in the back of the Impala, Sam by your side you were using him as support. Dean pulled out of the Hospital car park, you were dressed in Dean’s borrowed sweats and plaid.

“So where do you live?” Dean asked as he drove down the highway.

“About 20 minutes away.” You spoke shifting against Sam’s chest “Wait you mean address?” You realised.

“Would help.”

“Well just carry on until you reach the 5th diner on the left.” You replied handing Sam your busted up phone with 2 notes on it.

The first

Sammy -

How is he? After I left? What happened? How are you? Fill me in.

Sammy -

My address.

Sam grabbed your phone turning down the brightness before clicking on the address note, reading it aloud to Dean. He then switched to the first note.

- He’s never been the same when you left he fell apart, he wasn’t himself yet he couldn’t leave. He should have left the life, gone with you, got married, had kids.

Sam put your phone back in your hand, reading it you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut, deleting the note you typed again.

I’m sorry I ruined things.

- You didn’t.

Sam typed back before switching off your phone, avoiding pulling Dean’s attention towards him.

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked looking in the rearview mirror.

“I hurt but I want to get into my own bed.” You sighed cringing when you moved.

“Okay?” Sam asked his hand found yours giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I’ve had worse.”

“Don’t lie.” Dean almost argued.

“Shut up Winchester, where are you two staying?” Looking at Dean in the mirror you rested back on Sam’s chest in a new position.

“A motel about 40 minutes out from the hospital, actually it’s an hour out, Dean sped when he got the call,” Sam laughed.

“You both have clothes?” You asked.

“Yeah we’re wearing them,” Dean smirked.

“Did you leave anything in the motel?”

“Erm, no actually,” Sam added.

“Stay with me and Derek then, if you’re sure you didn’t leave anything you can stay tonight.”

“No! We’re fine in the motel.” Dean built up a defence instantly.

“Dean it’s going to be late by the time we get to mine, then another hour before you get back to the motel.” You insisted, you knew this was a bad idea, there was no way this could end well.

“Dean we could just stay the night,” Sam suggested.

Sam’s words were met with a grunt by Dean.

“Well then it’s settled! You’re both staying at mine.”

“I hope you have more than one sofa.” Dean sounded almost bitter.

“You can both have a room.”

“Someone’s fancy.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean,” Sam warned.

Shutting your eyes you took a deep breath before opening them again. “It’s your next right, the road is a little rough but you should be okay.”

Everyone sat in silence as Dean turned down the road towards the house Derek had built. The ½ a mile road was rougher in the Impala maybe because Baby’s an older car? or lower down? Either way, you winced as Dean hit each bump and pothole.

As Dean pulled up outside your and Derek’s house a whisper of ‘shit’ and ‘holy fucks’ left Sam and Dean’s lips.

“Here.” Sam held his hands out to help you out of the car, Dean had the bag of your salvageable possessions, which included your busted up handbag and a few files from work.

Unlocking the door with Derek’s keys you were helped over to the sofa as you explained the layout of the house from downstairs.

“Come here.” Dean insisted picking you up bridal style.

When Dean shifted you against his chest you suppressed the scream when you felt a shooting pain roll through you. “No, fuck.” You gasped.

“Shit I forgot about your stitches.”

“It’s okay, just don’t drop me.”

“I won’t,” Dean promised. “Where are we going then?”

“Upstairs.”

“Well then?” Dean winked looking down at you.

“No Dean.” You groaned. Dean carried you up the flight of stairs towards the bedrooms. “Okay so you can put me down now.” You whispered as Dean reached the first room.

“You sure?” Dean asked as Sam appeared upstairs, Dean lowered you to the ground slowly.

“So bathroom, bedroom, study, bedroom, 2 more bedrooms, bathroom and mine and Derek’s room.” You concluded your finger pointed tour with the room closest to them.

“Want a hand?” Sam asked holding you up by your elbow.

“Please.” You whimpered as Sam helped you to your room. “Fuck.” You hissed as Sam’s hand slipped from your elbow making you fall slightly.

“Sammy be careful with her!” Dean snapped he was close behind you both, his hands ghosting over Sam’s.

“Dean I’m fine.” You reassured as you reached the bed. “God I wish I had never gone out.” You groaned resting your head in your hands as Sam helped you lay down.

“At least you’re okay.” Dean smiled as he sat next to you. “This house is amazing.” Dean continued.

“It is.” Sam echoed. “Want a hand getting into bed?”

“Please. Dean, can you get me some water please?”

“Sure.” He spoke before leaving the room.

“Thank….You…” You tried to shout after Dean but your voice cracked, Sam’s head snapped up from the sweatpants he was currently untying the knot of.

“Did I hurt you?” Sam crawled towards your head.

“No.” You whispered as you began to cry, dragging an arm over your face to cover your tears, Sam watched helplessly as you cried, his hand rested on her arm.

“Hey calm down.” Sam soothed as he stroked your hair. “Shh.”

“I…I’m sorry…” You gasped for air through your sobs.

“It’s okay!” Sam smiled down at you. “You’ve been through a lot in the past few days, you need some sleep, let’s get you sorted.” Sam insisted as he began opening a few drawers in the room searching for clean clothes, Dean reappeared with a glass of water in hand. After they’d both helped you change into your pyjamas, they settled you in bed propped up by pillows.

“One of you need to stay with me.” You mumbled through half-shut eyes. “Where’re the painkillers?” You asked shifting in bed wincing in pain with each movement.

“I’ll stay?” Dean offered as he perched at the end of the bed. “Here you can have two of these.” Dean handed you 2 tablets and the glass of water

“Thanks.”

Sam dragged Dean off the bed and from the room before closing the door, leaving you alone. “What the hell are you doing? She’s engaged.” Sam growled.

“Yes Sammy, I know that I’m here for her not me,” Dean argued keeping his voice low.

“Just don’t hurt her Dean,” Sam warned.

Dean opened the door and walked back in, you hadn’t moved from your spot keeping your eyes on the closed door as you listened to the Winchesters argue, giving Dean a little smile.

“What time’s Derek home?” Dean asked.

“Around one in the morning.” You replied with a yawn. “Get in.” You patted the empty bed space next to you in bed, feebly trying to pull back the covers.

“Are you sure, you’re hopped up on painkillers and this is yours and Derek’s bed.” Dean protested.

“Fastest way to know if I’m dying.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Fine.” Your voice was getting quieter.

Dean crawled into bed next to you, your head rested against his arm. “Don’t fall asleep.” You whispered.

“I won’t.”

Dean watched as you took each breath, he watched your chest rise and fall next to him. He watched your eyelids close as you fell asleep. Dean was instantly transported to years ago the nights he spent watching you, making sure you were okay after a hunt.

Yet the one night he realized he loved you everything was different.

He watched as you slept, a hand tucked up under your cheek, your knee touching your elbow as the other leg stretched out on the bed. After the hunt you’d you were visibly beaten and bruised, you all were. Yet you had thrown yourself into the line of fire to save Sam and Dean. As he watched you sleep he soon realised he loved each breath and each bruise.

Years later he watched you sleep once again bruised, yet this time you weren’t with Dean. Dean hadn’t spent every hour of every day with you for the past few months.

Dean once again began to realise with each breath he was falling in love with you.

Part 5

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