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chanfictions · 3 years ago

Note

Akatsuki reader, partners...mmmmm maybe Hidan and Kisame.

Again, fem! The reader gets hit by someone else's technique.

(Or she was stupidly thrown something that she didn't have time to dodge).

The reader gets aroused and suddenly wants to have sex, whines, rubs herself against Kisame and Hidan, and they decide to help her ;3

(Either arrive at the base and fuck there, or right where they got rid of the opponents)

Hey anon! Sooooo, I know this isn't exactly what you requested. I couldn't for the life of me fit Hidan and Kisame into the same box to make this work, so I just stuck with Kisame. It started with your ask. One thing led to another and this happened. I got carried away with plot. Again. Hope you still enjoy!

Cupid

18+ Content! Minors DNI!

Kisame x Reader

Smut with a splash of plot. Unprotected sex-ish. Reader is assumed to be on birth control. Public sex-ish. Aphrodisiacs. Mentions of blood during combat.

You were sent on a mission together to retrieve a special relic that had some unexpected side effects.

3.4k

This mission was doomed from the start.

Pain had partnered you with Kisame on an infiltration and retrieval mission to acquire a powerful ninja tool being housed in a fortified military compound not far from the Hidden Sound. Stealth was your forte, so this sort of thing was right up your alley. While you had no hard-hitting combat skills to fall back on in the event that something went awry, you weren't particularly worried. As a phantom thief with a perfect record in your high profile heists, the thought of getting caught or needing to participate in a fight hardly crossed your mind. You insisted to Pain that you had never needed backup in the past and could easily do this yourself, but Pain disagreed. Kisame was assigned to you more or less as a bodyguard whether you liked it or not.

Kisame had been running solo since Itachi's death and had gotten a tad rusty when it came to fighting alongside another person. Your battle techniques got along about as well as oil and water. You favored covert sabotage and traps, and Kisame, well, Kisame was Kisame. Nothing that man did was small. He transformed every battlefield he encountered into a shark-infested lake before completely obliterating his opponents.

That's how everything went sideways. Kisame, bless his blue heart, was not subtle. You donned your camouflage jutsu and got ready to slink into the compound. "I'll pop a flare if I get into trouble. It's going to be much easier to sneak in and out without a 6'8" sword on legs following me. Just wait here."

Staring at the spot where he thought you were probably standing, Kisame's face twisted slightly. "This really isn't a good idea, Y/N." Unfortunately for Kisame, you were already long gone, and he was having a conversation with the wind. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back against a thick tree, focusing on the compound not far off in the distance where you would be poking around on your own. He didn't like the idea of you going in there alone. You were still relatively new to the Akatsuki, and your skills had yet to be formally tested. Kisame got along with you quite well and rather liked you, so allowing you to dive head first into danger without any real offensive jutsu in your arsenal left him on edge.

That overprotective nervousness regarding your safety was what sent everything spiraling out of control. An alarm sounding from within the walls of the compound left Kisame bristling and looking skyward for a flare. As the seconds ticked by into minutes with no cloud of smoke rising into the sky and the clear sound of soldiers mobilizing inside, Kisame made the executive decision to throw your plan out the window.

What he didn't know was that the alarm you set off was a decoy. Oh, shit. After plunging the base into chaos, it occurred to you that you had neglected to tell Kisame as much. At that moment, you realized that Kisame was probably about to charge in, sharkskin blazing. Shit, shit, shit! Every profanity you knew blared across your stream of consciousness like ticker tape as you hurriedly snatched the relic longbow you had been sent in to retrieve. A gooey sap coated the slick wood which left you quickly wiping your palms on your thighs to clean your hands before making a beeline for the exit. The growing cacophony of chaos outside announced Kisame's arrival.

As you expected, things outside had gotten a little out of hand. Kisame was in the heat of battle, taking on an army by himself and winning. Jutsu flew across the battlefield like exchanges of elemental cannon fire. Half of a battalion was encased in water prisons and the other was fleeing from shark filled orbs of water. Kisame was grinning ear to ear as he swatted off one after another like whiffle balls with Samehada.

You quickly scurried across the scene, sneaking up behind Kisame and whisper-screaming to get his attention. "Kisame, you big dummy! It was just a diversion! I'm fine!!"

Surprised, Kisame turned an eye to where he assumed you were while sending another enemy flying with a swing of his greatsword with an amused chuckle. "Next time, you might want to tell me what your plan is. Here I thought you were fighting off an army all by yourself."

"No, that's just you! Come on, I got the thing. Let's go!" You danced around him to avoid the swings of his sword, still wanting to keep yourself out of sight. Upon seeing his feet shift, you turned around just in time to see a flurry of arrows flying your way in such a wide spray that dodging them was going to be a feat.

Kisame blocked what he could with Samehada, but not knowing where exactly you were, wasn't sure he had protected you. A yelp answered his question. You shimmered back into sight just in front of him. He missed one, and it had plunged straight through your thigh. A stain of your blood quickly began mixing in with the sap you had wiped on your pants earlier. "Damnit!"

"I'm fine! Let's just go!" You shouted over the clatter of weapons and incoming pursuit, getting ready to run. With a snarl, Kisame reached down and snapped both ends off of the arrow before unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and retreating.

Fortunately, the soldiers had been so devastated by Kisame's onslaught that they hardly had the numbers to launch a fruitful pursuit. In the chaos, they had yet to notice that you stole the very item this outpost had been built to protect. Once he had put sufficient distance between you two and the base, he searched briefly for some cover to deal with your leg wound and leapt down from the towering branches to set you down with your back to a barky trunk.

You were beginning to feel flushed and hot as a shiver of heat rattled through your body and left an oddly pleasant knot in your belly. Blood roared in your ears as your heart began to race. When you looked up at Kisame, something felt… different.

Kisame knelt down to look at your leg. "You should have been standing behind me," he chided while setting one large palm on your thigh to brace it while he used the other to remove the broken arrow shaft. An ache built in your core as you caught your lip between your teeth. The warmth of his hand sent a tingling sensation rippling through your body. "Sorry, I didn't mean for that to hurt."

With massively dilated pupils, you stared at him hungrily. "It… didn't hurt," you breathed. With a deep inhale, you wondered how you never noticed how good he smelled.

Kisame stared back at you critically. "You're awfully sweaty for someone who wasn't running." Shock washed over his face after touching your forehead. You were positively boiling. "Y/N, are you feeling alright? Was there poison on that arrowhead? Your eyes..." Concern was beginning to bubble as he pulled the item in question from his pack, examining it, completely oblivious to the wild fantasies bubbling in your head.

He was so close. Your body hummed to life as that heat in your belly began growing in size. An ache throbbed through your core. Your heart was in your mouth. Every inch of your skin pricked with the need for contact. And Kisame… how had you never noticed just how hot he was? Sure, you had some occasional dirty, late night fantasies about him. But now? You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. The muscles rippling across his torso were hardly concealed by that black cloak. Even with those unusual features, his face was remarkably handsome, not to mention each time he spoke, shocks seemed to travel straight through your body and into your clit. Still with your lip caught between your teeth, you let out a sultry breath and ghosted your fingertips along his firm bicep. All that seemed to do was make your hunger worse.

Kisame, entirely oblivious to what was unfolding behind your eyes, just looked confused. The arrowhead didn't appear to have any substance left on it, and he couldn't think of another cause for your apparently unwell state. He unpacked some rudimentary first aid supplies from his pack and wrapped some gauze tightly around your thigh as a temporary measure to staunch the bleeding. Thinking that your stare focused at him was vacant, he snapped his fingers in front of your face to try to get your attention. "Hey, talk to me. What's going on with you?"

While his arm was extended, you latched onto it like a lifeline, nuzzling your face into his bicep and inhaling deeply. "Kisame..." You couldn't resist. You needed to touch him. Following that arm back to his torso, your hands traced every ripple of muscle while Kisame froze in shock.

You were his partner. While he undoubtedly found you attractive, this seemed like an odd time to suddenly declare your own desires. "What's gotten into you?" He wrapped his hands around your wrists, engulfing them entirely, as they traversed his muscular chest.

"Dunno… I just really… really need you." You used the grip he had to pull yourself in, burying your face against his neck and breathing deeply again. "You smell so good…"

A light heat rushed across Kisame's cheeks as you abruptly began coming on to him. Between your strange behavior and the thrill of the battle he had just been in, he was amped up. Your body being pressed so tightly against his was causing some complications to arise. His pulse quickened as you nuzzled and rubbed yourself against him. Feeling your breasts against his chest and your heated breath on his neck was distracting him from the issue at hand. "Y/N…" He let out your name in a low growl, intending it to be a warning, but it didn't quite come off with the bite he had intended. Hearing that word fall from his lips in such a tone just set you ablaze. A little moan escaped your lips, and you coiled yourself around him like a lusty little boa constrictor, trailing little bites and open mouth kisses on his neck, savoring every salty inch of his exposed skin. Another deep growl rumbled in Kisame's chest as he ran a strong palm up your spine to the back of your neck. "You're under the influence of some kind of jutsu," he breathed heavily, trying very hard to resist biting you back as his own desire built rapidly. There was no denying how steamy this situation was growing.

"Don't care," you whispered, nibbling at his ear as your hands wandered the chiseled landscape of his body.

"You're injured," he continued, now getting sucked into your lusty riptide, grazing your neck with pointed teeth.

"Don't care," you breathed again, beginning to unzip his cloak.

"We're in enemy territory," he murmured between bites on your throat that no doubt left marks before swallowing you in a crushing kiss. Those calloused hands ran up your sides, wanting to explore more but seeming hesitant.

"Don't care," you mewled, reaching for the waist of his pants, your fingertips grazing the impressive package Kisame was concealing, wiggling your hips for any kind of relief from the needy heat that was driving you to the brink of madness. Your panties were drenched. Your core ached. It was like you had been edged for two days straight without any kind of release. Every nerve in your body was hypersensitive to touch.

Another deep sound rattled in his throat. You ensnared him in this whirlwind, and there was no going back now. You undressed each other in a flurry of zippers and fabric, discarding one item after another in a heap upon the leaves scattered across the forest floor. You didn't care about the dirt. Nothing else existed to you right now outside of the deft hands moving across your body, making you arch your back and moan. His scent flooded your head. You were drowning in Kisame, yet felt like you were dying of thirst. You wanted him. Needed him. Your brain and body shared a singular focus. Neither the mission nor your bleeding leg mattered right now.

Kisame picked you up by the backs of your thighs, pressing your back against the rough trunk of the tree while leaving a trail of branding bites along your neck and collarbone, drawing a whine out of you. You wrapped your uninjured leg around his waist, grinding your soaked pussy against him and letting a lewd moan drift into the sky. That little bit of friction alone was nearly enough to send you over the edge. Your hands wandered, caressing every ridge and ripple of the muscle coiled like steel cables under his skin. This man was built. By now, you were well aware that he was hung like a horse as well. That impressive appendage was currently teasing the hell out of your hungering little hole. You could feel that broad head rubbing through your slick folds as you shifted. "Kisame, please," you whispered with a breathy lust, rolling your hips against him.

A low, raspy chuckle tickled your ear. "You're going to scream and give away our location," he teased.

"Then kiss me so I can't." Your desperation to have that massive girth inside of you dripped from every pore as you tangled your arms around his neck to pull him into a hungry kiss.

Unable to decline such a delicious request, Kisame shifted you to begin impaling you on his impressive cock painstakingly slowly, stretching your walls around him. He smothered your wails with his mouth. Your back scraped across the rough bark behind you, but you didn't care. This was divine. You tensed and whimpered, both aching to be filled and struggling to accommodate the sheer size of him. You clung to him for dear life, gasping and catching his lip between your teeth as he finally sheathed himself. Your core throbbed and pulsed. Nerves ached for input. You used your good leg to try to pull him in even deeper. Another little chuckle rolled through him at your enthusiasm and impatience. "Someone is eager," he teased again with a single thrust to punctuate his statement.

You mewled before biting his neck. "Kisammm-" He silenced you with a bruising kiss before any more complaints or moans could escape your lips as he began drilling you into that tree. Birds fled from the branches above from the force of his motions disturbing their roosts. You clawed his chest and back, screaming into his mouth as he repeatedly buried himself in your fluttering core. You were on fire. Each time your hypersensitive clit rubbed against his body, stars erupted behind your eyes. Sweat slicked your bodies as a steamy heat began to rise. The drag of your nipples against his skin sent rippling shocks of pleasure through your entire being.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled in your ear, large palms tightly gripping your ass as he drove himself into you again and again. You buried your face against his shoulder to let out a muffled wail as he sent you right over the edge. Your walls clenched tightly around him, eliciting a primal snarl from his lips. He sank his teeth into your neck as his powerful motions set impressions of that tree bark pressing into your back. With your good leg, you pulled him even deeper, arching into him as you flew off into orbit. A palm slammed over your mouth as he railed you into that tree to stifle the litany of cries erupting from your throat. Your head hit the wood behind you. He kept you pinned firmly there while fucking you into oblivion.

Your world melted away into nothing but the input of pleasure ripping through your body. The surrounding forest faded away. All you could hear was your own muffled heavy breathing, Kisame's grunts, and the slick sounds your bodies made between rhythmic contact. Every inch of you pulsed and throbbed with heat. Orgasm after orgasm tore through you in a continuous wave that left you with numbed legs and a soaked core. Your head was adrift in the clouds, the situation seeming impossible. Your new partner railing you against a tree in enemy territory was not your plan for this mission, but hell, you weren't going to question it. Your body ached and hungered for more. You kissed him as though he were your only source of air and you were suffocating.

Kisame picked up the pace, digging his fingers more firmly into your ass while keeping a tight clamp over your mouth to muffle the inhuman sounds you were making. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you lost yourself in another powerful crash of an orgasm, strangling his impressive girth with the crushing grip of your walls. A low growl and a series of curses rumbled through his body into yours as the depth of the thrusts increased until the hold your pussy had on him sent him over the edge and milked him dry. He growled your name through his release, gripping you tightly against his firm body. The combined sound of your heavy panting was the only thing that could be heard over the breeze rustling through leaves overhead.

That fog in your head slowly began to lift as you caught your breath. Your muscles trembled with fatigue as you dropped your head against his shoulder. "Fuck," you whispered through heavy breaths, slowly running your palms up his chest to his shoulders. Still pinned against the tree with his length buried within you, it took a moment for you to remember where you were. A soft hiss escaped your lips as he shifted your weight, reminding you that there was still a bleeding hole in your thigh.

"You good?" A raspy chuckle rumbled under your head that you had resting against his chest. He maintained his grip on you for the moment, not sure if you were about to go weak in the knees and collapse into a heap if he let you down.

"Yeah, I'm good," you giggled, turning your heated cheek against him before grimacing again when you looked down and saw the rather unfortunate state your leg was in.

Kisame slowly slid his length from you before gently setting your feet back down into the crunchy leaves littering the forest floor. With an arm still around your back for the sake of your stability, he glanced down at what you were eyeing, spotting your wound and what looked like a stain of pink that wasn't blood still flushing the surrounding skin. He carefully brushed his fingers against it, picking up a swipe of the gooey substance that you had wiped on your pants earlier that had seeped through the fabric and into your wound when you were hit. "What's this?" He inquired curiously, giving it a sniff.

"Some sap or something that was oozing from that bow," you breathed, shifting your weight onto your good leg and breathing heavily still as you leaned into him.

Kisame let out a hearty laugh. "You didn't wear gloves when you handled it, did you?"

Your face paled. You had entirely forgotten Pain's instructions regarding the handling of that weapon in your haste to leave with it during Kisame's little rumble with the defending army. "Oh, god -- damnit." An embarrassed laugh started shaking your shoulders as you defeatedly let your forehead fall against his chest.

"That bow is made of cherub wood. While it makes excellent longbows, its sap is also the primary ingredient in aphrodisiacs," Kisame teased. The embarrassed giggling overtook you and melted into genuine, hysterical laughter.

"Woops."

#kisame x reader #kisame smut #akatsuki x reader #naruto x reader #naruto smut #chanfictions

276 notes · View notes

t0wnspersonb · 5 years ago

Text

Kiss it Better (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

Anonymous said:

Hello I just read your fics about Kuroo, Akaashi and Bokuto and I really liked them 💞 So I was wondering if you could write a fluff fic where tsukki gets embarassed trying to make the first move you can also just add things to your liking If you don‘t want to that‘s totally okay I‘ll be waiting for your upcoming fics thank youuuu 🧡

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Omg that’s so funny because my next story was literally going to be just that! I had a lot of fun writing this one and might do a part two with some *cough* smut *cough* just like Kuroo, everyone is lowkey a Tsukishima girl. I hope you like this anon!

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Word Count: 2,293

Summary: Tsukishima has always liked you, but you’ve never noticed his advances. A trip to the nurses office might change your mind.

~~~~~~~~

You liked to think that you were friends with the tall blonde sitting behind you in class.

But sometimes…

Thunk.

Sometimes…

Thunk.

Sometimes you really wanted to fucking strangle him.

Thunk.

“Can you stop kicking my chair!?” you hissed, staring at the smirking middle blocker.

“My foot slipped.” he replied coyly, causing your scowl to deepen.

Before you could retort back to him the bell rang, signaling the end of class. You started packing up your stuff, grumbling to yourself about how rude Tsukishima was.

“Don’t you want to walk to the clubs together?” He called out to your leaving form.

You huffed turning around to see him and Yamaguchi looking at you.

There were times when Tsukishima didn’t annoy you, and those were the times you would walk with them to your after school club activities.

You were part of the photography club, which was on the way to the gymnasium that held their volleyball practice.

But again, you only walked with them when Tsukishima wasn’t being an annoying little prick.

Today definitely wasn’t one of those days. He had been bugging you all day. It went from his annoying comments to him poking at you harshly, and then to kicking your chair.

You weren’t sure if it was because he was bored and had nothing better to do, or if it was because he actually didn’t think of you as a friend. Or because he was just simply an asshole.

Maybe it was a combination of all three, you didn’t know.

“No way.” you sniffed, sticking out your tongue to him. “I don’t want to walk with you anywhere today. If it was just Yama-kun then I would. But not if you’re there. Stupid.”

Tsukishima visibly looked annoyed at your statement.

“Y/n-chan.” Yamaguchi called out, raising his hands up as he looked at both annoyed expressions. “You guys should try and get along yeah?”

“Be quiet Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima sighed, moving to walk past you. “If she wants to be childish then just let her. I’m surprised she even got into this class.”

“I’m surprised Yama-kun is even your friend.” you fired back, crossing your arms over your chest. “I bet you aren’t even good at volleyball.”

Tsukishima paused, and then before you could even register what had happened, he was leaning down, incredibly close to your face and to your body. You could physically feel his body heat radiating into your own. His hand resting on the doorframe, preventing you from leaving the room.

“Why don’t you come by and find out?” he said slowly, ignoring the panicked squeak that escaped Yamaguchi’s lips. His gold eyes were piercing into your own, but you couldn’t see any anger in them at what you had said, you couldn’t see an ounce of annoyance either. But there was something else there, something you couldn’t place.

Ignoring your hammering heart and the heat creeping up into your face, you shoved his arm away scowling. “Maybe I will. Maybe I’ll take pictures of you sucking and have an article published in the school newspaper about you being a terrible person and sucking at volleyball!” you huffed stalking away from the tall first year angrily.

You ignored the calls of Yamaguchi and just focused on heading towards your club.

Today was definitely one of those days where you wanted nothing to do with Tsukishima.

The relationship you had with the middle blocker was incredibly strange. One minute you guys were perfectly fine with each other, and next - well it was exactly what had just happened.

Tsukishima scoffed as he watched your retreating figure. But he couldn’t deny the fact that your reactions were incredibly lame, but incredibly cute.

“You shouldn’t tease her like that Tsukki.” Yamaguchi sighed. “She’s never going to like you back if you keep making her mad like that.”

Tsukishima didn’t say anything as they continued their way to the gym.

Everyone knew that he liked you. It was incredibly obvious, and Tsukishima always made sure to make it incredibly obvious.

But it wasn't obvious to you.

The one person that it mattered to the most.

You were frustrating and amusing, stubborn and incredibly smart, quick-witted and incredibly beautiful.

The entire package.

And Tsukishima wanted you to be his.

But you were too fucking dense to realize that.

And quite frankly, he was getting sick of it. For as smart as you were, you were incredibly thick when it came to stuff like that it appeared.

It frustrated him to no end.

Usually what he depicted as playful flirting you thought as him just being downright mean.

It was a constant cycle, neverending.

It was ridiculous.

Actually scratch that.

This was ridiculous.

It had been a couple of days since that last encounter, Tsukishima deciding his chances at winning you over would probably be better if he stopped his teasing for a little bit.

But right now you were nodding your head rapidly in understanding as Hinata talked to you. You were there during one of their practices, to take photos of them. A project that you had to do for your photography club. Takeda-sensei had given you permission to be there to snap pictures of the team.

“- And then I go boom!” Hinata exclaimed bouncing around.

You smiled at his antics. “That sounds incredible Hinata! Do you think I can take a picture of you doing your crazy jump?” you asked, holding up the camera for emphasis.

But before he could utter an answer, Tsukishima interrupted. “We have to start practice, you can just take pictures then.” he said to you, glancing at you briefly.

You rolled your eyes at his aloofness and apologized to Hinata who was protesting loudly at what Tsukishima had said. “He’s right Hinata, I don’t want to impede on your guys’ practice so just pretend like I’m not here and I’ll take as many pictures as possible.”

Reluctantly he agreed and everyone continued the practices Ukai had asked them to do before splitting up into different teams. They were doing a match.

You were honestly in awe as you watched them play. You didn’t think that volleyball could be so… amazing. You had teased both Yamaguchi and Tsukishima about how boring the sport was.

You were so wrong.

You had almost forgotten to take pictures, you were so captivated.

But what had surprised you the most, was Tsukishima. You had never seen him so… concentrated? So serious? So… so attractive?

You felt your face flush, shaking your head to rid yourself of the thought. That was ridiculous. You had never been attracted to the middle blocker, you found him annoying, a completely arrogant, unnecessarily tall asshole, and… and he was incredibly good looking.

What was wrong with you? How could you even think of something like that? How could you - “Watch out!” your eyes went wide as a volleyball came hurtling at you with rapid speed.

Your eyes squeezed shut, readying yourself for the impact.

Only it never came. You heard a loud grunt and opened your eyes to see Tsukishima clenching at his fingers, the ball rolling away from his feet.

He… he protected you from the ball.

Tsukishima’s pointer finger throbbed in pain, he knew it wasn’t broken, but the nail had torn just a bit, blood seeping out of his wound.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to move, he knew that Nishinoya was closer to you, he knew that he was heading towards the ball to stop it from hitting you. But his body just moved after he called out his warning.

“Oi Tsukishima are you okay?” Tanaka asked running up to him, several of his teammates surrounding him.

He removed his hand to reveal his bloody nail, causing you to gasp lightly.

“I need to stop the bleeding. I’ll go to the nurse.” Tsukishima said quietly.

“Let me help you.” You blurted out immediately, causing all eyes to be on you now. “It’s my fault you got injured.”

The tall blonde nodded, and both of you left the gym quietly.

“He’s got it bad huh?” Tanaka smirked, staring after you guys.

“I hope he can confess properly.” Yamaguchi sighed.

***

The walk to the infirmary was incredibly quiet, awkward almost. But it was just your luck that the nurse was nowhere to be found.

“You can go. I can take care of it from here.” Tsukishima said quietly.

You shook your head. “No. You got hurt because of me. At least let me help.” You started to take out the necessary equipment to help disinfect and wrap his finger. “Go ahead and sit down.” you said gesturing to the bed.

Tsukishima didn’t bother arguing, silently sitting at the edge of the bed and watching you closely.

Even sitting down, he was still incredibly tall. The top of his head just below your chin. You held your hand out his expectantly, he sighed quietly before placing his much larger hand in yours.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood and began wiping down the wound with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. The smell stingy your nose, but the atmosphere around the both of you was quiet, calm almost.

His hand dwarfed your own, his fingers long and elegant, and surprisingly soft against your own touch.

Tsukishima couldn’t deny the fact that he was enjoying this immensely. You stood incredibly close to him, slightly between his parted legs as you worked. He could smell the soft perfume on your skin and the laundry detergent you used on your clothes.

It was a wonderful smell.

Maybe… maybe now would be a good time to tell you… right?

“I’m sorry Tsukishima.” you said quietly, wrapping his finger. “If I wasn’t there you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“It’s fine. It’s nothing serious.” he said, equally quiet.

“Does it hurt?” you asked, tilting your head to the side slightly as you stared into his gold eyes.

Tsukishima could feel the blush rising in his face, you were just too cute. The way you looked concerned about him. He liked that. He liked that a lot.

“It might hurt less if you kiss it better.” he said. He couldn’t resist, this situation was incredibly ideal to him.

You looked incredibly confused for a moment before taking his hand and gently pressing your lips against the tip of his injured finger.

Tsukishima felt like his heart was about to leap out of his chest, his face burning at the sweet gesture. And even though his finger was wrapped up, he just knew that your lips were incredibly soft. His other hand came up to press against his face, the backside of his hand covering the lower part of his face in embarrassment.

“What’s wrong?” you asked frowning, you had just done what he had said. Your heart was racing for some reason though, you weren’t sure why.

Tsukishima couldn’t take this anymore. He grabbed your wrist and tugged, pulling you into his chest, and then flipping you over onto the bed, his upper body hovering over yours.

Your face was completely red, you thought your heart was about to pop, he was way too close and his face held nothing but seriousness.

What did you do?

“Tsukishima-” “Quiet.” he demanded.

You snapped your jaw shut.

You watched him take a deep breath in before speaking. “You are the most infuriating person I know. You’re stupid and you don’t pay attention to what’s going on right in front of your face.”

Your nostrils flared slightly in anger. “Well right back at you asshole!” you grumbled back.

He rolled his eyes and moved his face closer to your own, causing you to quiet down once more.

“But despite how incredibly dense you are, you’re smart, you’re witty, you’re stubborn, you’re hardworking, you’re pretty -”

You have never been more confused in your entire life. Did he just insult you and then compliment you? Did he just call you pretty?

“ - and I literally can’t take this anymore.” he pushed up his glasses just a bit. “I’ve given you so many hints, made it so ridiculously obvious, and you still don’t understand you dimwit.”

You frowned further at his insults.

“I like you.” He said, “I’ve liked you for a while now. You just have never noticed. I want you to go out with me.”

He couldn’t handle the shy expression on your face after his confession. The soft look on your face, and the dark red blush coating your cheeks. His eyes flickered towards your lips, and he started to lean closer. Your soft hands came up and gently rested against his chest, but you never pushed him away. Your eyes fluttered shut as you prepared yourself for what was about to come next.

You could feel his breath hitting your face gently, causing your lips to part as you readied yourself -

“Tsukishima! Everyone wanted me to go check on you and -” the door opened suddenly, and Hinata stood staring at the scene before him.

Tsukishima whipped his head around with a hard glare at the orange haired male who had gone pale, and then had turned dramatically red at the sight before him.

You couldn’t help but cover your face in embarrassment at the position you and Tsukishima were in.

“I-I’m so sorry for interrupting!” Hinata screamed and slammed the door.

Tsukishima sighed, deflating slightly before removing himself from on top of you. He ignored the blush in his face as he stood up, looking back at you still laying on the bed.

So incredibly tempting.

“Wait for me after practice. We can walk home together.” He said simply before leaving the infirmary.

Did you… did you just get yourself a boyfriend?

You hoped so.

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #tsukki #one shot #tsukishima oneshot #tsukishima kei x reader #reader insert #request #requests are welcome #haikyuu tsukishima

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corvus--rex · 3 years ago

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This prologue is going on longer than I thought, but it will be over soon, probably one more short chapter. But until then, I'm so sorry, have some baby Keith angst.

one more for the Galra cat glossary: tehrl - a miniature feline (smaller than a housecat) that are kept as pets and pest control

~*~*~*~

They had been traveling for over a day, stopping only when necessary. It was night again, and Krolia sat in the carriage, watching the landscape pass by, the sleeping form of her kit curled against her side. She tucked the soft blanket around him more snugly, a tender smile on her lips as he let out a soft, contented purr and snuggled harder against his mother. One hand kept him close while the other reached under the neckline of her traveling dress to pull out the depiction of Marmora she always wore.

Marmora was the Galra central goddess. A queen of legend, she was deified after her death for having managed to unify the disparate Galra kingdoms against a common enemy. Before then, the Unilu hadn’t been thought of as a threat by anyone, the race of small, four-armed goblins more of an annoyance than anything. But they were clever, and made up for their size with numbers. They knew that to attack a place like Altea was suicide, but the constantly-warring Galra kingdoms would be far easier. Marmora called for the separate kingdoms to unify under her banner to go to war against the threat. While they tacitly agreed at first, soon the other kingdoms realized that they never would have survived without her leadership. The Unilu were soundly defeated and Marmora led the Galra to a new age for their race, one that had continued for generations.

Krolia ran her thumb across the relief set into her medallion. The ancient Galra queen stood proudly, her sword-bearing arm held high, the other holding a ball of violet flame. She stared at it, drawing some comfort from her ancestor before letting the pendant drop. She turned back to the carriage’s small window and watched the land change from the deep, dark woods of Daibazaal to the green forests of Altea. It would take at least another two days of travel to reach the capitol. They would arrive exhausted from their journey and she could only hope that she would reach it before any messenger from Zarkon and that King Alfor would welcome them.

The little prince had no trouble keeping himself occupied during his waking hours, something Krolia was infinitely grateful for. He still believed that they were on a surprise vacation and that they would be meeting his father somewhere along the way. She kept it to herself, but she had felt their bond snap when they were not far from the castle. She knew what the stretch of distance felt like, the pain of longing for her mate when they were separated by royal duty. This was not that. This was a ship’s line breaking, the thick rope hitting her like a whip’s crack. This was glass shattering on a stone floor, glittering shards spread wide. It left her raw and bleeding, with a deep ache for a mate she would never see again. Krolia let herself feel it only in the dark of night, where she would wrap herself in her voluminous cloak tighter, hold her kit closer, and let the tears fall silently.

Another full day of traveling through Altea, and Keith was beginning to become bored of the endless carriage ride. Leaving his coloring on the floor, he climbed onto the seat and into his mother’s lap, immediately finding the soft fur of his tail and running his tiny claws through it.

“Where are we going, Mama?” he asked. “When are we gonna get there? Where’s Papa?”

Krolia sighed. She knew her kit’s inquisitive nature wouldn’t stay quiet for long and that she would have to tell him sooner rather than later. She decided that answering his questions in order would be best.

“We’re going to Altea, little one. We should be there around this time tomorrow.” She paused, knowing that there were parts of their last night in their home that weren’t for little ears. “Your Papa – he’s – I’m so sorry, kit. Your Papa won’t be coming with us.”

Keith was too young to understand what his mother wasn’t saying. “Why?” he asked innocently, “Did Papa hafta go on a trip again?” He was familiar with his father’s diplomatic meetings, sometimes in places far from the Daibazaal capitol and their home.

Krolia sighed again, willing her tears back. “No, kit. There are bad people in our home now, and I don’t know when we’ll be able to go back. We’re going to Altea to ask for their help. Your Papa sacrificed himself so we could get away safely.”

The kit’s face screwed up in confusion. “What bad people? And what’s sa…sack-if-iced?”

“People your Papa and I thought we trusted. One of the generals of our army, Zarkon. He wants to rule Daibazaal himself instead of your Papa. He decided to take what he wanted, and your Papa died so we can be safe.”

Keith only had a vague understanding of death. His only encounter with it had been when his pet tehrl died after being poisoned by an angry former member of castle staff. Their dismissal, to no one’s surprise, had been due to behavioral problems and killing the small prince’s beloved pet had earned them a stay in the city jail for a few months. Keith at first couldn’t understand why the miniature feline wouldn’t play with him like it always did. But his guard sent for the queen, and Krolia explained that the tiny cat had died and what that meant. She allowed her small kit to hold something of a funeral for the animal, but his child’s attention span moved on to something else not long after, even though she knew he still missed his companion. It seemed that the meaning of death hadn’t progressed in his mind beyond his lost pet, and it was a concept he couldn’t quite apply to his father.

“You remember Rrahr?”

Keith nodded, thinking back to finding his tehrl motionless on the floor by its food dish. Something clicked, and he looked up at his mother, eyes wide. “Is that what happened to Papa?” he asked, his voice trembling, “Did the bad people hurt my Papa so he can’t come back?” His ears flattened and his tail dropped, suddenly afraid of his mother’s answer.

“They did. I am so sorry, little one. Your Papa’s not coming back.”

Violet eyes quickly filled with tears that spilled over, leaving dark stains running down the fine, soft fur, and he scrambled in his mother’s lap, throwing his arms around her neck, sobs racking his small body. Krolia held him, running her claws through his hair, trying to hold it together for him. But she couldn’t, not in the face of her son’s innocence, and held him tightly while her own tears fell, privately mourning the loss of King Davvik in the roles he cherished most; those of beloved Alpha and mate to Krolia, and the devoted and loving father to his young son. She held Keith until his sobs subsided into hiccupped tears and finally into the even breath of sleep. When she was sure she wouldn’t wake him, Krolia tucked herself against the back of the deep velvet cushion and wrapped her thick cloak around her sleeping kit, and let sleep take her as well.

Keith was withdrawn and quiet for their last day of travel. His toys and pencils couldn’t hold his attention, and he sat beside Krolia, arms wrapped around his stuffed rakhai and stared out the window. He only perked up the smallest amount when they entered Altea’s capitol. He saw the glowing white spires of the castle and turned to his mother, tugging on her sleeve.

“Is that where we’re going, Mama?” he asked quietly.

Krolia nodded. “Yes, it is, kit. We haven’t been stopped by the city guard, so it looks like we’re safe for now. I’ll need to talk to King Alfor and then I’ll know what’s going to happen, alright?”

Keith sniffled, burying his face in his favorite stuffed animal. “I want Papa,” he said through a new round of tears.

Krolia picked him up, hugging him in her lap. “I know, kit. I do too. We’ll just have to take our home back for him.” The combination of finally arriving in Altea’s capitol city and her son’s grief gave her new determination. Queen Krolia of Daibazaal would reclaim her throne, restore Marmora’s line, and ensure that no one would ever forget what happened that night.

~*~*~*~

Intro | Prologue pt 1 | Prologue pt 2

#my writing #galtean klance #royal klance #Prince Keith #Prince Lance #galra keith #altean lance #magic #Keith is a purple kitty #Lance is a brat #keith kogane #lance mcclain #klance #keith x lance #abo #omegaverse #vld #voltron #voltron legendary defender

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swan-of-sunrise · 3 years ago

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Civil War (Chapter Six)

Summary: Bucky’s suspicious escape from the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre and the fallout surrounding it makes (Y/N) reevaluate her opinion of the Accords.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Last week’s chapter was really angsty and it kinda took a toll on me so here’s a sort of short filler chapter with slightly less angst! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Six (Previous Chapter)

While she couldn’t claim to be a spy or secret agent, (Y/N) had picked up a thing or two from hanging around so many of them over the past couple of years; she knew that Bucky would eventually need an exit once he was finished tearing through everyone in the building, and it was a safe bet to assume that the skilled assassin would choose to fly himself out of there instead of travel on foot at the risk of being apprehended. She was quick to locate the building’s stairwell, hurrying up the steps as the emergency lights and alarms continued to blare; when she reached the top floor, she flung open the door and stepped out into the dark and deserted hallway.

“God, I hope this thing works…” Mumbling under her breath, (Y/N) fiddled with the dials of the walkie talkie until she could hear the indistinct chatter of voices, only letting out a sigh of relief when she finally heard the one she needed to speak to. “Agent Ross, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I need backup on the-”

“(Y/L/N), what the hell are you doing?!”

“Your job, it would seem! I’m on the top floor and have reason to believe that-!”

Just then, a metallic hand came out of nowhere and ripped the walkie talkie from her hands, crushing it to pieces before tossing it aside. (Y/N) acted on instinct, rolling underneath Bucky’s outstretched arm and pulling a stun disc out of her pocket; landing upright, she chucked the stun disc at his metallic arm and took advantage of the assassin’s distraction to sweep his legs out from underneath him with one of her own.

“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, and you were a Sergeant in the U.S. Army during World War II!” She shouted, keenly aware that the distraction would only last a few more seconds. “You were Steve Rogers’ best friend and a Howling Commando!” Hastily backing out of the way, she watched with widened eyes as he ripped the electrified stun disc off his arm and leapt to his feet. “Bucky, I don’t believe that you bombed the U.N. but you need to stop and remember who you are!”

Bucky’s face was blank and devoid of any emotion, a far cry from the frightened man in the containment cell. He stalked towards her and while she had just enough time to duck the first punch he threw her way, she couldn’t dodge the second; the force of his fist’s impact on her jaw sent her flying back and crashing to the ground, her wrist screaming in protest as she tried and failed to break her fall. While he strode down the hallway to where she was sprawled on the floor, she hurriedly ripped all the stun discs out of her pocket and began throwing them as she crawled backwards. He avoided each and every stun disc she threw, but it bought her enough time to pick herself up off the ground and side-step his next attack; before she could land a kick or punch, though, his metal hand shot out and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her easily into the air and slamming her hard against the wall.

(Y/N)’s hands came up to uselessly clutch at the metal fingers that were digging into her skin and her legs kicked out in desperation as she struggled for air; just as her vision was beginning to darken her eyes focused on the small tear in the sleeve of his shirt and the corner of a red star it barely revealed, and in desperation she cried out, “Sol…Soldat!”

The assassin froze, and (Y/N) watched as his hardened expression shifted into confusion. His metallic hand quickly loosened and she instantly crumpled to the floor, coughing and gasping for air, unable to move or even defend herself. Bucky’s heavy footsteps faded away and with a wheezing breath, she lifted her head in time to see Steve burst through the same stairwell door she’d come through moments before.

“(Y/N)!?” He hurried to her side and dropped down, his grease-smudged face filled with pure panic as he tugged her into his arms. “Oh God, you’re bleeding…!”

Steve’s free hand came up to touch her scratched jaw but she grabbed his wrist to halt his movement, ignoring how his brow furrowed in confusion as she whispered, “G-go, Steve…Bucky’s heading for…for the helipad…”

He firmly shook his head, blue eyes already set in determination. “No, baby, I’m not leaving you.”

“Bucky needs you!” (Y/N) insisted, suppressing her wince of pain as she stared up at him with a fiery resolve; sensing the conflict within the super-soldier, she released his wrist and gently rested her hand against his cheek with a sad smile. “Go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Steve nodded and carefully eased her back onto the ground, giving her one final look before running down the hallway after the assassin; right before he turned the corner, she closed her eyes, unwilling to watch as the love of her life chased after the deadly assassin by himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the second time in two days, (Y/N) quietly sat and allowed herself to be patched up by a kindly paramedic. Not only did she still have a ruptured eardrum, she also had a large laceration along her jaw that required five stitches, a sprained wrist that was secured in a sturdy brace and a smattering of darkening finger-shaped bruises around her neck. Others weren’t as lucky as you were, she reminded herself, sadness washing over her as she thought of all the critically injured and dead CIA agents who’d also encountered the dangerous Winter Soldier during his rampage.

Once the paramedics finished treating her wounds, she made her way back to the control room and was immediately met by a sympathetic Natasha. “Here, I got you some tea with honey; it’ll help your throat feel better.” The spy handed her a warm to-go cup before wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her into the glass-walled conference room, where Tony was already seated and resting his bruised head in his hand. “Secretary Ross’s gonna be here in a few minutes, hot-shot, so please try to be on your best behavior no matter what he says to rile you up.”

(Y/N) merely nodded and took a sip of her tea, wincing in pain as she swallowed. The injuries to her throat didn’t stop her from speaking but her own conscious did; she was beginning to realize that no matter what she could say or do to convince them that Bucky was innocent, they’d never listen and even if they did, there was nothing they could do about it under the Sokovia Accords. So, she made the decision to bide her time and wait until the right moment to bring up her theory.

The three of them sat together in weary silence, the turmoil of the past two days seeming to catch up to them, until Secretary Ross barged into the conference room with his trademark sneer on his face. “You two wanna fill me in on what happened and why a civilian’s still sitting in the middle of a covert CIA control room?”

As if sensing (Y/N)’s simmering irritation, Natasha stood and moved to lean against the back of her chair, placing a calming hand on her shoulder as she replied, “Barnes escaped custody with the aid of the U.N. psychiatrist sent to evaluate him; they knocked out the power grid to the city and used it as a distraction, and (Y/N) here was already in the building for questioning. She’s one of the many who tried and failed to stop Barnes from leaving the building.”

“After taking (Y/L/N) out of commission, Barnes tried leaving in a chopper but ended up crashing it on the helipad; he, Rogers and Wilson are all missing in action.” Tony glanced over at (Y/N) before returning his gaze to the Secretary of State. “That’s all we’ve got.”

“I don’t suppose you have any idea where they are?”

“We will, GSG-9’s got the borders covered, and Recon’s flying 24/7. They’ll get a hit; we’ll handle it.”

Secretary Ross scoffed at the billionaire. “You don’t get it, Stark, it’s not yours to handle. It’s clear you can’t be objective, so I’m putting Special Ops on this.”

The spy’s hand on her shoulder flexed. “What happens when the shooting starts? What, do you kill Steve Rogers?”

“If we’re provoked,” (Y/N)’s eyes widened in horror and in her shock, she almost missed what Ross said next. “Barnes would’ve been eliminated in Romania if it wasn’t for Rogers; there are dead people who would be alive now. Feel free to check my math.”

Tony’s eyes flicked over to meet theirs, an uncomfortable look filling his gaze as he turned back to Ross. “All due respect, you’re not going to solve this with boys and bullets, Ross. You gotta let us bring them in.”

“How would that end any differently from the last time?” The Secretary of State demanded.

The billionaire’s expression hardened at Ross’ silent implications. “Because this time, I won’t be wearing loafers and a silk shirt. Seventy-two hours, guaranteed.”

“Thirty-six hours,” Ross corrected, giving them all a pointed look before turning and walking out of the conference room, calling out over his shoulder, “Barnes…Rogers…Wilson…”

“Thank you, sir!” The glass door closed and Tony slumped in his seat with an exhausted sigh as he clutched his left arm. “My left arm is numb, is that normal?”

Moving around the table, Natasha patted the billionaire on his shoulder. “You all right?”

The two Avengers continued to talk in low tones but (Y/N) couldn’t focus on what they were saying; all she could think of were Secretary Ross’ cold-blooded words and the way he’d said them without so much as a hint of remorse. What horrified her more, though, was the fact that Tony and Natasha didn’t appear to be bothered by the threat against the lives of their former teammates. This is all wrong, she thought as her vision began to blur with unshed tears, her heart sinking into her stomach while she realized that Steve’s worst fears about the Accords were materializing right before her very eyes; blinking away her tears, she looked down at her now-bare ring finger and the longer she stared, the more her anger with the two Avengers grew.

“…head downstairs to talk to T’Challa. I’ll bring (Y/N) with me, since he seems to tolerate her more than the rest of us.”

“Before you do, though, she’s gonna need to sign the Accords; I don’t want Ross looking for any excuses to arrest her so we need to do this by the books.” She looked back up as Tony and Natasha turned to her, the billionaire’s brow raised in expectation while he continued. “That okay with you, Austen?”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment and when she finally spoke, it was with a forced calmness and a clenched jaw. “Did I ever tell you two what my new novel Bring A Folding Chair is about? It chronicles the rise and fall of second-wave feminism in America as told through the eyes of a young investigative journalist.” Getting up from her seat, she crossed her arms over her chest and began pacing. “I focus on the successes of the movement while also highlighting its failures and shortcomings, because even the most well-intended things can inadvertently end up hurting others.” (Y/N) shook her head in agitation and glanced over at the two confused Avengers. “When it came to the Accords, I knew from the moment Secretary Ross told us about them that they were wrong, but I turned a willful blind eye to the truth because I was selfish and only cared about saving my relationship with Steve. But now…now my eyes are wide open.”

“(Y/N), take it easy-”

“Do not tell me to take it easy when you just sat there and listened to Ross practically order a hit on three people – two of which are your friends – who haven’t been legally convicted of any wrongdoing!” She yelled as her sore throat ached in protest but she ignored it, all the frustration and pain that had been building up inside of her finally boiling over. “Steve was right when he said I was too idealistic; I thought the world was made up of enough good people who would keep the Accords from becoming too authoritative but unfortunately, it’s made up of cowards like us who are only looking out for our own self-interests.” Her gaze shifted from Tony’s stunned expression to Natasha, whose face remained neutral but whose eyes conveyed the pain her words had caused; she swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded before continuing. “Well, I don’t know about you two but I can’t do it anymore.”

Without another word, (Y/N) stormed out into the control room and down one of the hallways to Agent Ross’ office, her uninjured hand curled into a fist at her side as she walked; the door of the agent’s office was open and he was in deep conversation with Sharon Carter, who was tapping away on a tablet while they talked. They both looked over at her as she entered the office, and Agent Ross’ brow furrowed in concern while he took in her injuries and stony expression. “Miss (Y/L/N). Agent 13 told me that you got roughed up pretty badly earlier; are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Agent Ross. Am I free to go?” The agent raised his brow, looking more amused that surprised by her demanding question, and she gritted her teeth before continuing. “In the past forty-eight hours I’ve attended a friend’s funeral, was nearly blown up in a suspected terrorist attack, was unjustly interrogated for several continuous hours, broke off my engagement to the love of my life and was nearly killed again by a brainwashed assassin. I’m filthy, I’m injured, I’m exhausted, and I’m just one more incident away from completely losing my shit so can I please leave now?”

Sharon cast her a fleeting glance and took a step forward. “Sir, she’s already given multiple statements to our agents and…well, to be frank, the Joint Terrorism Task Force is already facing scrutiny for not stopping Barnes’ escape. The criticism will only intensify when the news outlets catch wind that we’re holding an injured, world-famous author without probable cause.” Agent Ross considered her words, and Sharon shot her a warning glance before continuing. “I’ll drive her to a nearby hotel and keep an eye on her in case Rogers tries getting into contact; based on the events of the last few hours, though, I’m not so sure that he will.”

“All right,” He finally answered, his expression softening a little as he looked back at her. “But for the time being, Miss (Y/L/N), consider yourself on the no-fly list.”

Nodding in thanks, (Y/N) glanced back at Sharon and the agent gave her a brief smile. “I’ve got a few things to wrap up here so I’ll meet you down in the parking garage in ten.” She reached into her pockets and withdrew her car keys, pressing them into her open palm with another fleeting smile. “My car’s the grey Audi parked by the stairwell.”

(Y/N) walked out of the office and down the hallway but since the mechanics were still working on fixing the elevators after the power-outage, she was forced to take the stairs all the way down to the underground parking garage. She quickly located the agent’s car and unlocked it, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seat-belt; now that she was finally alone, she couldn’t stop herself as she lowered her head into her hands and cried, allowing all the pent-up emotions inside of her to finally be set free. In that moment, all she wanted to do was go back to when everything was normal, back before Lagos and her constant fighting with Steve and the goddamn Accords; it wasn’t perfect, of course, but it was a hundred times better than what they were all currently going through. “I’m so sorry, Steve…”

As her sobs finally began to subside, the stairwell door opened and Sharon walked through the doorway; she took a steadying breath and wiped the last of her tears away just as the agent opened the driver-side door and got it. Sharon reached over and opened the glove-box to reveal a package of tissues, flashing her a brief and sympathetic smile as she pulled one out and blew her nose. “I tend to start feeling better after I’ve had a good cry. How ‘bout you?”

“Not really, I still feel like shit except now my eyes itch and my nose is running,” (Y/N) half-heartedly quipped, dabbing at the corners of her eyes and sighing. “So, you know any good hotels around here?”

“The Kurhotel Strӧszek’s nice and it’s not too far from here, so that’ll make Agent Ross happy. On our way, we’ll stop at a pharmacy and pick you up some first aid sup-” The ringing of Sharon’s cell phone interrupted her words and she was quick to answer it. “Agent 13 here…Steve?” (Y/N) instantly perked up and with a brief gesture for her to stay quiet, the agent switched to speakerphone. “Okay, I’m alone. What’s up?”

“We’ve figured out what’s going on,” Steve’s voice answered through the phone’s speaker and (Y/N) bit her lip to keep from making a sound at the comforting timbre. “The doctor framed Bucky for the U.N. bombing in order to find out where Hydra kept him. They created five other Winter Soldiers back in the 90’s and had them cryogenically frozen; he’s planning on waking them, says he’s doing it to see an empire fall.”

“So, you three need your gear before you can go after him.”

The super-soldier sighed. “I know that it’s a lot to ask, Sharon-”

“You’re trying to stop a squad of murderous super-soldiers from taking over the world, Rogers; if this is how I can help stop that from happening, then I’m in. I’ll send you a message when I’ve got the gear and we’ll arrange a meeting.”

“Thank you, Sharon, I owe you one. How…how’s (Y/N) doing?”

“She’s okay; lacerated jaw, sprained wrist and a whole lot of bruising, but she’s fine.” Steve breathed a deep sigh of relief that made (Y/N)’s heart warm and the agent gave her a sideways glance before continuing. “You should know that she’s refused to sign the Accords. I’ve been assigned to escort her to a hotel, where she’ll stay until she’s taken off the CIA’s no-fly list and can go back home…”

There was silence over the line and just as she began wondering if they’d somehow been disconnected, Steve quietly spoke, “I’ve already asked you for one favor but can I bother you for another?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“If I write a letter, can you make sure that it gets to (Y/N)? There’s a lot that I need to tell her and since I don’t know what’ll happen where we’re going…well, she deserves answers one way or another.”

Sharon’s eyes flicked between (Y/N)’s saddened expression and the cell phone in her hand as she nodded. “Of course, I’ll pick it up when I hand over your gear. Talk to you later, Rogers.”

Hanging up, the agent tucked the phone into her pocket and quickly started the engine, buckling up and driving at a steady speed through the parking garage and out onto the street; (Y/N) fiddled with the hem of her wrinkled shirt for a thought-filled moment before stating, “You’ve already got a plan.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been prepared to follow through on a favor like this one for a while now,” Sharon spared her a sideways glance and focused back on the road. “But I won’t say anything else about it on the off-chance the CIA decides to question you somewhere down the line; the last thing I want is for you to be charged with aiding and abetting in the theft of government property.”

(Y/N) glanced down at her bare ring finger and thought back on Steve’s words during his phone call; she was desperate to find out what was in the letter but at the same time, she knew in her heart that she needed to hear whatever it was directly from him. The thought reminded her of their conversation about the problems within their relationship in the London hotel’s bar, the last truly calm moment they’d shared before everything went sideways…

“Whatever it is, we can work through it together. We make a damn good team, after all.”

“Of course we do, sunshine.”

There’s something I have to do before Steve and the others go after those super-soldiers, (Y/N) thought to herself, her shoulders squared in determination as she turned to glance at Sharon beside her and pondered the best way to ask the spy for a third and final favor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Russian Translation: Soldat-Soldier

A/N: Next chapter will have even less angst so yay! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TsJ2TY1F2HDXhEYOfzCjY?si=b1abdaeccc4c4d21

Chapter Seven

Civil War Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @khuang3 @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345 @crist1216 @aesthethickks

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theredsuzuran · 4 years ago

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Muzan x reader ~ Lily

This is a song fanfiction on the song Lily by Alan Walker, k-391 and Emelie hollow. This story is inspired by the Japanese legend of yamato no orochi. I might do a second part as well. It's my first ever fanfiction so please excuse my mistakes.

Warning : mention of slight gore and blood

Enjoy

Lily was a little girl

Every decade on the night of full moon the first born female child of (L/n) clan are sent as bride to a powerful demon named Akai lurking on the mountain of Akakura which was believed to be inhabited by oni from ancient times. Your great grandfather and his then pregnant wife was attacked by that demon although on their constant begging and vows of servicing to the demon he spared their lives but on one condition that was they needed to send him one girl from their household every decade on this very full moon night. Your sisters and aunts, who you never get to see were presented to that oni. You being the oldest daughter of your family was nominated as the bride this year.

Afraid of the big wide world

When you first get to know about this, you were absolutely terrified and angry of the idea to be separated from your parents and siblings in order to serve your duty as a bride to that potentially harmful demon who you knew would devour you as you never saw any of your elder sisters or aunts come back therefore it was nothing but a human sacrifice in your judgment and being a child it horrified you, often causing nightmares of the said demon. From a very tender age you were brainwashed that the outside world was a dangerous place and it consists of unknown creatures lurking around the earth's surface with the sole purpose of causing grave harm to people. Being a child you were easily convinced but as you grew older your curiosity got the best of you as well as the urge for understanding the outside world became a necessity.

She grew up within her castle walls

Now and then she tried to run

And then on the night with the setting sun

She went in the woods away

So afraid, all alone.

As a child most of the time you were confined inside the four walls of your room, you were not allowed to go out unless required. There were servants who tended you day and night. It was necessary because the child for the sacrifice should be flawless in every aspect and most importantly healthy or else great catastrophe would fell upon your family. Sometimes you wish you were a sick person. That doesn't mean you didn't try to run away from home. Every now and then you tried escaping from your residence and one time during sunset you were successful in escaping, that was for the first time you went out from your house, you ran miles and miles away, bare foot. For the first time in life you were so far away from home you never imagined this day might come. The softness of the green grass beneath your feet, the fresh air lingering in the atmosphere made your heart giddy. As you stopped running for a while you encountered the sight of a city in which there were lots of people gathering around the street, both men, women and children of your age wearing lavish clothing and accessories, you have zero social interaction skills, servents being an exception even your parents also were not available all the time, on top of that you were timid and young, this overwhelming crowd of unknown people startled you which was honestly frightening but you were determined. Therefore you brush off your worries in order to explore the city, you were happened to be in the middle of a festival, which you seem to know since your servants who served under (L/n) family often talk about such festivals obviously they are not allowed to discuss such things infront of you but somehow you managed to eavesdrop and acquire information. Festivals are truly majestic, it was way better than the stories you have heard from the maids at your residence. It was colourful, lively, cheerful, loud nothing like the world you are used to see. There were various stalls consisting of items like jewelry, cloths that are being displayed on the street, on both sides of the road. The the smell of hot dishes like yakisoba, Takoyaki and ikayaki from different stalls hitting your nostrils making your mouth watery. As you were wandering around aimlessly, admiring the lighting and beauty of the festival, you bumped into a bunch of drunk men, you quickly turned away to apologize but a man with rough demeanor pulled your arm and started throwing curses at your way which definitely made you uncomfortable as you looked around to ask for help but none of them responded or came to your aid.

"look where you walking, brat!"

"I am sorry, please forgive me" you were not accustomed to such rude behavior as your maids and servants and even your family members were gentle towards you which was likely because you came from a very wealthy family. Which was quite visible by those men by the way you dressed, expensive (f/c) kimono wrapped around your figure made with the finest silk in the country and the gold hair pin tucked in your smooth (h/c) hair.

They warned her, don't go there

There's creatures who are hiding in the dark.

"What's with the hurry miss, join us for a bit?" With that said from the other guy, your eyes widened, you tried your best not to cry, they warned me your mind started to race with the worst case scenario as you started to remind your parents word about the outside world but you came back to your senses as they yanked you down the alley. Your heartbeat increasing rapidly, sweat covering your (s/c) countenance, your mind was going blank but you snapped out from your thoughts as you noticed the man's arm closed to your face without wasting any time you bit the man harshly causing him to drop your hand, taking advantage of that situation you ran towards the opposite direction earning screams and curses from behind. You didn't try looking back but you knew they were chasing you from behind. You stumble across the way as never in your life you ran so fast and somehow manage to get into the wood. Being exhausted and breathless you collapsed onto the ground. The sound of footsteps growing lounder as they were approaching you, tears stared to form up in your face am I going to die?

"Found you kitten" one of the drunkards chasing you commented, grabbing a handful of your (h/l)(h/c) hair roughly, lifting you up from the ground, then he took out a knife from his pocket and brought that near your neck in order to create a minor cut which begun bleeding instantly. You screamed in pain but no words came out from your mouth, you felt completely defeated and tired. There was no hope. You felt as if you were going to die but you didn't want to. Yet.

Then something came creeping

It told her, don't you worry just-

Suddenly rustling of leaves and bushes were heard from afar which caught you and the rest suprised.

"Who's there?" The man holding you shouted but complete silence was observed. This pissed off the man even more and he shouted angrily this time with more intensity.

"Come out or I will kill this girl in this instance" no sooner did the words left the man's mouth than he saw you were out of his sight and standing before him was a slender pale man in his late twenties having remarkable dark curly hair and plum red eyes contrasting his features sharply. He was holding you firmly but gently in his arm.

"How did you-"

You saw his eyes glowing under the moonlight pointing directly towards those men, his glare was deadly and menacing which could make anyone fall on their knees. One of the men began to charge towards you but his attempt went futile because the man holding you kicked the man with such immense strength that he went flying over the air and died a painful death crashing loudly against the ground snapping his neck in the process. The other man in feat of pure rage tried to punch that mysterious man but his head exploded due to the pressure of that raven hair blocking his attack. The other man who watched all of that fainted. It was a gruesome scene for you to witness but you tried your best not to cry because the man infront of you just saved your life.

"Thank you mister for saving my life, I thought I was going to die if it were not you I'd be dead, I appreciate your help" your voice still shaking, you lowered your head and then look up for the first time his red orbs met your (e/c) ones. The moonlight reflected through the branches of the trees made you see his face clearly, you have not interacted with men before except your father, siblings and uncles so being closed with a man this handsome made you a little nervous. You could feel your blood rush through your cheeks. Seeing you nervous made him chuckle slightly, he gently put you down on the ground from his arm.

Follow everywhere I go

"A young girl like you should not be roaming around in the woods late at night, there are a lot of people and creatures having full intent to hurt fragile beings like yourself" he spoke to you with his calm, monotonous voice.

"Yes you are right mister and I apologize for causing you trouble but I really needed to come out" you replied with a soft hum. Which made that man curious.

"Is that so? What's your name child?"

"My name is (y/n)(l/n), and yours?"

"Muzan kibutsuji"

A perfect chance for him to devour this girl which was driving him crazy because of the aroma she was emitting, he can take full advantage of this situation, there was no way in hell this girl could protect herself as minutes ago she was cowering with fear and misery, how pathetic he thought.

"I was meaning to say this for a long time now kibutsuji san you have the most beautiful pair of eyes, it's very unique, I am glad to meet you" the sudden compliment coming from you widened his eyes. He have been living for a thousand years now both humans and his underlings alike are scared of him even his demons admire and respect him out of fear. All of them knew how ruthless, manipulative, egoistic and deceitful this man is but this girl shows her genuine gratitude towards him even though she is vulnerable and exposed. What a clueless human he thought letting her guard down to none other but the dangerous Muzan kibutsuji. There was pure innocence in her voice and glowing admiration in her eyes, gleaming with positive energy which evoked strong emotions in all his seven hearts that were stoned ever since he abandoned his humanity.

"Its dangerous for you to go back alone let me escort you home" the demon replied which you gladly accepted. For now.

Muzan held your hand tightly as the two of you began to walk out from the forest and enter the town again, talking on the way, learning about each other.

"How old are you (y/n) chan?"

"I am 13 years old, kibutsuji san"

"Muzan will be fine, (y/n)"

"Sure Muzan!" You smiled enthusiastically, you enjoyed his company as you were not allowed to have friends it made your heart flutter with an unexpected feeling of warmth. You wanted to clinge on it. Never in your life you felt so secure and content.

Top over the mountains or valley low

"Say (y/n), why did you ran away from home?" Muzan asked

"I don't want to get sacrificed to the oni" you replied with sudden drop to your voice. Muzan stopped walking and looked down at you with concern written over his face, he didn't know why he was acting this way but there was this sudden urge to keep you safe, the thought of seeing you suffer made him somewhat sick to his stomach.

"What oni?" He asked this time holding your shoulders gently, he could say you were scare to talk about this but somehow you felt at ease around him which you never felt towards anyone, you started to trust him even though you just met him.

"There has been an old tradition in my family for generations, every decade on the night of full moon the first born female child of our family is sacrificed to the oni living on the mountain of akakura for last 50 years, I am next in line that's why I was running away, I am not ready to die" you replied almost sobbing

Give you everything you've been dreaming of

Just let me in

"Once I attain the age 18, I will too be send to the oni as his bride" tears came rolling down your cheek, the demon lord can sense your terror which you were trying to hide. What a pitiful creature, I shall be your savior he thought to himself.

"You are a brave girl, I admire your inner strength (y/n)" he cupped your face with his arms, caressing your features softly brushing away the tear drop forming in your eyes.

"I don't know for how long" you replied smiling a bit. appreciating his effort to soothe your anxiety.

Everything you want in gold, I'll be the magic story you've been told

Everything was good until you heard your name coming across the other end of the street, it was two of your servants and your uncle approaching both you and Muzan. The look in your face suddenly changed to that of a drastic one, the slight flush which covered your countenance few seconds ago was gone and was replaced with a pale look similar to that of muzan's. It was evident to the demon from your expressions that it was rather unpleasant for you even though they seem to know you and by judging the looks of your uncle, he figured you two are related.

"Where have you gone milady?" One of your maid came rushing towards you, but you hid behind muzan's back averting your gaze from the maiden and your uncle. As you could feel an intense glare coming from him. Thanks to your uncle you are in great trouble now.

"My name is (u/n)(L/n), this girl's uncle, I apologize on behalf of my niece for causing you trouble" the (h/c) hair man said to muzan.

"I am Tsukihiko kibutsuji, Do not worry about that and (y/n) didn't create any disturbance" it would be a bit suspicious to you that why muzan lied to your uncle about his real name if he didn't mention he was a demon earlier when you two were conversing and he needs to hide his identity in order to survive.

"Thank you so much for your help, (L/n) family will owe you for this" he bowed to muzan showing his gratitude towards him while glancing at you with the corner of his eyes.

"You here young lady, I hope you won't run away like this you could have just asked our servants or me if you really wanted to go out that badly, you have made your mother worried sick" the man cooed directing towards you.

𝚕𝚒es you thought You'd never let me go out, you are only behaving nicely because of muzan.

"(Y/n)" the soothing voice hit your ears and you looked up to see muzan "you must go back home, as your uncle stated they must be really worried, right?"

You felt really defeated but you decided to let go of him, he already saved you from a great disaster. It would be selfish of you to ask for more but you really hoped he'd help. Before you headed back you asked turning your head back at his direction.

And you'll be safe under my control

"We will still be friends right?" Muzan was taken aback friends? He thought a genuine smile appearing on his face. He nodded at you which made you sigh with relief and then you waved goodbye to him in the hope of seeing him again someday, your first friend.

"Yes (y/n), we will meet again"

Just let me in, ooh.

#kimetsu no yaiba #muzan kibutsuji #kny muzan #muzan x reader #fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #demon lord #demon x reader #anime

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girlibutnotagirl · 3 years ago

Text

Part 2 ~

I have plenty of ideas of where I want this to go, but I also haven’t picked one yet! So I’m not super sure where this is going but I’m going to try to give it a happy(ish) ending! I guess this is part two (?) I went through and fixed some of the spelling errors and capitalization so I’m going to include the first part too, just scroll past it and look for ♥️🖤~ I’ll put it right before the new stuff!!

TW for SELF HARM, bullying, disordered eating, and insomnia

Enjoy and stay safe💕

“Marinette?”

Chat Noir whispered, unable to form words. He just sat there in shock, holding her hands, repeating her name quietly. This was not possible, he couldn’t wrap his head around this being real. Happy, kind, always positive Marinette. So this was why she always wore that jacket. It wasn’t just a style choice. It was to hide this.

The cuts on her arms looked like red marker, but as he ran his thumb over them, bits of the scabs peeled away and she winced, biting her lip and looking away. He finally brought himself to look at her face and was shocked to see tears running down her cheeks. How long had she been suffering alone?

Without a warning, he pulled her to his chest and hugged her tightly. She froze for a second and then hugged him back and started sobbing. Every sound of her pain broke his heart. He stroked her hair as she set loose all of the emotions she had fought so long and hard to hide. All of this bottled up agony, all of these secrets.

“How long? “

He murmured into the top of her head. He had to know. He should have noticed. They had known each other for 4 years now. He should have seen the change in her when she started doing this to herself.

She inhaled sharply

“3 years”

Chat Noir felt his chest tighten. He should have realized. He should have been there for her. Was he so blinded by Ladybug that he couldn’t see anyone else? He kissed the top of her head on impulse and felt her tense up, but the she relaxed and pulled away. She met his glowing clover green eyes with her own bluebell ones and took a deep breath.

“The stress of all the things I was juggling became too much, and adding my rejection and Lila’s taunts, it was overwhelming. “

🖤♥️🖤♥️

“I felt so alone, there was so much that I couldn’t tell anyone for so long. I was slipping away, drowning with limp limbs in a dark ocean and I couldn’t tell which way was up anymore. It started with not sleeping, and forgetting to eat, but the hunger pangs and the fuzziness in my head made me forget about the other stuff. Even with all that happening, I still sewed regularly, and my famished, sleep deprived brain and red eyes meant that I jabbed myself with a needle a lot more times than necessary. I was used to it, I am a seamstress after all, but one time it tore through the skin and left a gash on my finger. I was so worn out and fed up with everything that I just froze for a moment. Slowly, I held it out in front of me and watched it bleed. It hurt like hell, but I couldn’t think of anything else at that moment, all I could do was feel that electricity and watch the ruby liquid drip onto my knuckles. After what seemed like forever of feeling uninspired and dead, it made me feel alive again.”

“Regardless, I had to finish my project, so I cleaned it up and put a bandaid on. And you know what? I slept amazing that night.”

“Gradually I started sleeping and eating better. My mood and energy went up ~ almost to where it was before I got burnt out. I became social again, and my grades went back up. I was myself again ~ almost.”

“But underneath my long sleeves, my wrists were full of little holes and gashes from old needles. After a bit, I even started carrying one around with me when I went to school, just in case I needed to duck into the bathroom during a test or after an encounter with Lila to recharge. I had found the perfect solution ~ I felt invincible”

#Miraculous #marichat #angst #marichat angst #miraculous fanfiction #selfharmm #self harm recovery #recovery is possible #tw #muraculouslim #miraculous recovery fanfiction #hurt\comfort #marichat hurt \ comfort #miraculous ladybug hurt/ comfort fanfiction

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

Note

could you do 🎂 1 and 26 for fred? like maybe she was best friends with the twins at hogwarts and joined the order with them and she went to get harry and got hurt? also loved the charlie one!! you write so well!!

Thank you! This one is so cute omg I really liked writing this!! Also I’m glad you liked the Charlie one!! It was one of my favorite to write so far!

Warning: this mentions blood/blood loss so if that makes you feel icky or triggers you please do not read!

Title: Wounded Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Prompt: That kiss, did you really mean it / Hold my hand, you’re going to be fine

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

“Scared, Y/N?” Fred teases, coming up behind her.

Y/N rolls her eyes and turns around to face Fred. “As if, Weasley. Although I reckon you look a little nervous,” she fires back with a smile.

Fred is always trying to get under Y/N’s skin and she always has something to say back to him. It started first year during flying lessons, when Fred teased her about not being able to get her broom to fly into her hand while he hovered above the ground. Y/N immediately called the broom up and got into the air, flying circles around Fred. They’ve been friends ever since and always trying to one up each other.

“Cut the chatter and get in here,” Mad Eye Moody scolds, gesturing for Y/N and Fred to follow him through the door of Privet Drive.

Y/N follows behind him excitedly, ready for her first official Order mission. Fred had been the one to tell her about the Order and what they were trying to do, and she immediately joined with him and George. The world around them was getting darker, and she couldn’t just sit back and watch it get ruined. Tonight, they’re going through with their most important, and dangerous, mission yet – removing Harry from his childhood home.

“Race you back to the burrow?” Y/N teases Fred twenty minutes later. Her, Fred, George and four others have disguised themselves as Harry using Polyjuice potion, and they’ve paired up with other members of the order to defend the real Harry and make sure he reaches the Burrow alive and in one piece. Y/N will be on a Thestrals with Fred’s older brother Bill, while he’ll be flying his broom close by his dad.

“You’re on,” he grins. Fred winks at Y/N as she settles in behind Bill, and with Mad Eye Moody’s signal, they’re off.

“On your left!” Bill shouts, and Y/N immediately fires a spell at the death eater approaching them.

“Thanks!” The burrow is just barely in sight and Y/N is exhausted. The second they flew into the air death eaters were everywhere, and Y/N has been casting curses and spells left and right to keep her and Bill safe. Her and Bill should have encountered Fred and Arthur twenty minutes ago, and she can’t help but feel worried that something happened to Fred.

“Y/N, watch out!” Bill calls.

Y/N turns just in time to see a death eater pointing his wand at her. A jet of orange light comes out of their wand as Y/N casts stupefy, and as the death eater falls away she feels a searing pain in her thigh. “Holy fuck,” she groans, leaning against Bill’s back. Y/N gasps as she looks at her leg to find an arrow sticking out of it, with blood slowly seeping from the wound.

“Fucking hell,” Bill curses when he looks back to see what’s wrong. “Everything’s going to be okay, Y/N. Just hang on, we’re almost there.”

Y/N starts to cry as pain radiates from the wound and as the Thestrals hits the ground running her leg jostles, causing her to shout in pain.

“Help! Someone come help me!” Bill shouts as they reach the front yard of the Burrow. “Just a bit longer, Y/N hang on.” Bill sighs in relief as Fred and Arthur come running out the front door towards them.

“What the fuck happened?” Fred asks as he runs towards Y/N. Her face is pale, and it makes his stomach lurch. Just moments ago, he’d been preparing to rub it in her face that he’d won their race, and now it looks like she’s on deaths door.

“I don’t know she got hit by some curse and now there’s an arrow in her leg. We’ve gotta get her inside it’s bleeding a ton.”

Fred watches as Arthur slowly grabs Y/N from the Thestrals and holds her in his arms. He winces as she cries out, his eyes trained on the place where the arrow sticks out from her body. The jeans she’s wearing are soaked with blood and the tear tracks on her face glisten in the moonlight. Everything he’s ever wanted to say to Y/N comes to the forefront of his mind as he follows his father back into the house.

“Take her upstairs, put her on my bed,” Fred insists as they enter the living room. George is already sprawled out on the couch, his own wound slowly healing. Molly had given him a potion to put him to sleep, and there’s no way they’ll be able to move him quickly.

Y/N cries out again as Arthur places her on the bed, and Fred quickly rushes to her side. He kneels by her head and grabs her limp hand, squeezing it tightly. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” he coos, reaching up to stroke her hair with his free hand. “Just hold my hand, you’re going to be fine.”

Y/N uses what strength she has left to squeeze Fred’s hand in return. “Fred,” she whispers, before everything goes dark.

When Y/N opens her eyes, next sunlight is streaming in through the blinds. She can feel the tight bandage wrapped around her leg but doesn’t dare look down to examine the damage. She can feel Fred’s hand in hers resting on the bed, and when she turns her head Fred is sitting on the floor, his back up against the nightstand, fast asleep.

Y/N squeezes his hand tightly, and when his eyes flutter open she smiles at him. “Morning sleepyhead.”

“Y/N,” Fred sighs in relief. Before he can truly think about what he’s doing he leans forward and kisses her softly.

Y/N kisses Fred back eagerly, butterflies erupting in her stomach. When Fred pulls back she’s breathless and if she wasn’t laying down Y/N is sure she would collapse onto the floor. They just look at each other for a moment, both unsure of what to say next. “That kiss, did you really mean it?” she asks timidly.

“Mean it in what way?” Fred responds quietly, squeezing her hand.

“Like did you mean it to be a holy shit I’m glad you’re alive because you’re my friend kiss or a holy shit I’m glad you’re alive because I’m in love with you kiss?”

Fred bites his lip. “The second one,” he admits honestly. “Unless you want it to mean the first one, because even though I really want it to be the second one I can’t handle you not being in my life in some way so I can-.”

“I love you too,” Y/N says with a laugh, cutting off his anxious rambling. “Now shut up and kiss me again, you idiot.”

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley drabble #Fred Weasley fluff #bsd

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whump-town · 4 years ago

Text

Heart Attack

This one goes out to whoever said “death. this is how i confess love”.

I will write the other fic as well

Warning: Major Character Death (rip my favorite big old idiot)

The initial weakness in his left arm is not noteworthy. The deep ache, daggers shooting from the inside of his wrist to the clavicle, are sadly not either. Chronic pain is just a part of his daily life and after the ugly, deep scars Foyet left on his forearms, not even simple movements are free. He’s always assumed Foyet put them, the long slashed scars that look nearly self-inflicted, there just for show, claiming him perhaps but certainly to maim. Doesn’t matter right much now, all he knows for certain is that it hurts and there’s nothing he can do about it.

It happens so frequently that it nearly slips his mind-- as much as pain can but what he really means is that the coffee in his hand slips. He’s standing in the kitchen, contemplating taking an Advil to at least dull the pain enough to better concentrate on the book he’s been trying to finish since Friday. “Fuck.” His left hand just releases the mug. He liked that mug. Advil it is.

His days pass in quiet contemplation. Just him and these beige walls. He misses the days that were filled by Jack’s toddling steps, rampant little footsteps, and happy squeals of delight. Coming home to the sound of some new band Jack’s conjured up and is going to torture him with for the next week until he moves on to the next. He misses Emily and Dave and having drinks on his couch. Being forced to go to Dave’s for family dinners and Emily coming by, uninvited, of course, to eat his ice cream and make fun of his documentaries.

Now he’s alone most of the time. Well, unless Jessica coming by to count to his pills counts. He doesn’t really think it should but she means well. Someone has to make sure he doesn’t just die on them but would they even notice?

Not immediately, not for a while.

Maybe if something strange happens on a case but those calls come less and less frequently. No one needs his specific knowledge. Emily is becoming an assured leader and she doesn’t even call him to fuss about the idiots that he hired and left her to deal with. He and Dave don’t really talk anymore. The best he gets, these days, is a quick update if someone gets hurt just so that he doesn’t worry if it pops up on the news.

Jack is off at college now. Hotch can’t blame him for being fairly radio silent but it does give him something to work with every few weeks when Jack does remember that he exists and sends a thousand-odd texts his way.

So, if he just… died no one would notice until Jessica’s Thursday visit. Even then, she’s just here to look at the pillbox he leaves on the counter for her easy access. She just checks what she has to and leaves. Life goes on.

As he’s crouched on his kitchen floor, mumbling very inappropriate and obscenity-ridden things, he feels that lightheaded fog encroach. Something that he really only knows from other encounters, one that he doesn’t associate with immediate danger. He takes a fist-full of medication each morning and roughly two list lightheadedness as a side-effect. While a dangerous fallout of Foyet’s stabbing is this strange platelet problem that messes with his iron. So while he sits for a moment and breathes through the feeling of his body trying to give out on him he assumes this problem is what it always is: his awful health.

He gets the coffee cleaned up with a towel but leaves the towel over the broken bits of the mug. The cartilage in his knees saw better days roughly twenty-years ago and by the time that the coffee has been contained, he can hardly stand the pain in them. So, guiding himself with a hand on the counter (then leaning on the wall and using a kitchen chair and so on and so forth until he gets to the couch) Hotch limps away from the kitchen.

He’s never been so thankful for his habitual manners as he sinks into the cozy couch and finds his heated blanket already plugged in and sitting on the lowest heat. A fire hazard? Yeah probably but if this damned blanket kills him one day then so be it. He finds some background noise in a nature documentary about penguins and closes his eyes, waiting for the blanket’s heat to soothe his old bones.

Despite how far he’s pushed himself down into the blanket, his body breaks out in a cold sweat. His chest tight and arm throbbing or maybe stabbing-- he can’t tell the difference right now just blinded by the pain. Blind and so stupid and as he sits up, shaking he’s shivering so hard, he knows what’s happening.

Haley used to dismiss his fears with soothing promises. She wouldn’t let something like this happen to him. They’d get old together “so old we start to wish one of us would just die and get it over with but every day I’ll turn over in our bed and find your craggy, old face right beside me and I know I’d still love you so much it hurts”. But Haley died before she even turned forty and he’s spent too many birthdays and anniversaries alone to know she couldn’t have meant that.

Drunk, vulnerable with the recent loss of Haley and the sudden return of Emily he’d admitted to this fear. Not just dying alone but of dying like his father-- a hated bastard on the outside with no family and no loved ones. To paint the wall with the horror in Dave and Emily’s face could stand as a solid reminder that he is loved but those faces mean nothing. The way that Emily had hugged him that night is nothing. Despite their assurances, he can feel his heart skipping beats. Painful kicks, each one.

He is alone. Gasping as he struggles to fight off his anxiety and crying through the agony ripping chest. Alone. Curled down into himself to try and find some comfort.

He manages to call 911. As he’s blinking tears from his eyelashes there’s a moment where the only number he can think of is Garcia. For years her number was his emergency number and now … He’s still thinking about her when the operator picks up but he’s losing his functions so fast. Settling back on the couch, using what’s left of his energy to tuck his feet back under his black he does his best to stay awake and hum in response to questions.

He thinks about Garcia. She’s always there, he finds, in his mind and every accident he’s had. Even during Boston despite the fact that she just joined the BAU. She’s always there and he wonders if she’ll appear this time. Talk his ear off about David Bowe but hold his hand tight enough that he never has to question if she’s really there.

Heart attacks hurt a lot worse than internal bleeding but he’d, personally, still put it under being actually stabbed.

He doesn’t hear the paramedics arrive or even feel the IV being placed in his arm. Though unconscious, he gives the faintest whimper of discontent as he’s lifted and pulled away from the couch. Not given the chance to brace for the cold winter air of March in Virginia just moving and moving fast.

“Agent Hotchner?”

He groans, turning his head from the penlight shining down in his face. Though he moves his face, he can’t escape the tight pressure across his ribs. Constricting tightly. The agent bit catches him by surprise-- he’s been “Mr” now for some time. Very few people still throw the “agent” in there.

“There you are--”

The sirens make it hard to hear. His hearing has been going for some time but if there’s one thing he can take from this encounter it might be that he should invest in the hearing aids he’s been putting off for a while now. He blinks up at the woman talking to him. Gently pumping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep and calling his name when his eyes slide back shut. He does try to stay awake but he’s in a lot of pain and he’s tired. Even retired he doesn’t get much sleep.

He’ll have to remember to tell JJ that. She’s always worried about his sleep schedule (or lack thereof) and thought, or rather hoped, his retirement would bring him the chance to finally catch up on two decades’ worth of lost sleep. She’ll be disappointed but not surprised.

It’ll give him a reason to reach out, to talk with them.

“Stay with me, Agent Hotchner.”

The world rocks and something that taste like plastic is placed over his face, wrapped around the back of his head.

“Deep breathes, you’re doing just fine.”

The cold air hits his sternum and his eye fly open, panicking as hands touch his bare skin. Oh, God. Foyet. I have to stop-- someone much stronger than him grabs his wrist. Two hands push his shoulders down into the gurney and he can’t fight. Can’t move.

“Agent Hotchner,” someone tries to calm him. “We’re trying to help you. I understand you’re in a lot of pain--”

He wants to go home. Away from the cold and the hands that keep touching him. “Dave?” he pants, turning his head and searching through the hazy mess of people. He cries softly, tears stinging his face as they slide down his face. He wants to recognize one person, to know one of the hands belongs to someone he trusts. Dave is okay. He likes it when Dave touches him. It’s calming and reassuring and he wants someone to call Dave. “Please,” he whimpers, curling his legs as he feels someone tear the worn fabric of his jeans. “No. No.”

He’s confused and he’s in pain and he wants all these people to stop touching him.

“Aaron--”

No, no he doesn’t like that. He cries out, failing to dislodge the hands as he kicks out. All his height, all the power he’s spent decades learning to command is useless. “I want to go home,” he rasps desperately. He can’t move, anymore. They’re holding him down and he can feel the drugs pumping into his arm. Too cold and too fast and it all hurts. Why are they hurting him?

“Just stay with us, Agent. We’re almost done and then--”

For the first time in nearly twenty years, all of his pain just is gone. He feels nothing for a blissful second. Around him, there’s a panic. The machines attached to him frantically going off as his heartbeat goes from rampant, wrong to gone. The pain comes back suddenly, sharper than before, and he turns his head with a moan as his lungs contract painfully. He coughs, rasping as his chest heaves.

He slips back under the haze but this time the pain stays.

He chokes as they try to intubate, fighting weekly but he’s too far gone to even move away from the touch anymore. Dave isn’t there. He wishes Dave were here. Dave always cups the side of his head, speaking in soft Italian that he’s never managed to pick up. But it’s soft and gentle and Dave. Garcia doesn’t hold his hand-- she always holds his hand. There’s not the soft scent of lavender that comes in with the hard rain that is Emily Prentiss. No one to jostle him for his carelessness and then crawl up into the bed with him. Reminding him of memories he’s nearly forgotten of when they were just kids.

No Jack.

Jack’s at college.

He comes in at 9:45 a.m.

By 10:15 a.m. there’s a doctor over his chest. A nurse makes quick work of trying to get a hold of a medical proxy. There’s a kid, he has a son, but there’s no contact information listed for him. She gets voicemail twice from the numbers that are listed.

Jessica is in a meeting. Her phone is on silent. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had her phone. He’s thirty minutes away and his heart gives out only twenty minutes after he arrives at the hospital.

Dave is in Seattle, sitting in a puddle of rainwater and trying to contain his anger as Luke changes a tire on the SUV. His phone is too wet to work. He won’t get the news until nearly two hours later when he and Luke arrive back at the precinct. Emily will not cry for nearly a week after she gets the news. She tells Jack.

The doctors assure them that there was nothing they could have done. It was a freak accident. They always knew this was a possibility, an outcome that was very real with the amount of damage done to Aaron’s heart. It’s been broken so many times… And standing in that hospital, shivering under the intensity of the air conditioning and the white burning paint, they are left with the burden of knowing he protected them tell the very end.

But they never reciprocated that care.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction

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mvrtaiswriting · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t worry. - Jotaro Kujo.

HELLO! As promised, here’s one of my works. It’s based on Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Stardust Crusaders. Its main character is Jotaro, although I’ve tried to include everyone; even Holly and Suzie Q. Let me know what you think and please feel free to request anything. Hope you enjoy reading it!

F reader x Jotaro

Jojo’s bizzare adventures: Stardust Crusaders.

SFW

Hi! Are you a new reader? Check my masterlist for more content!

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It’s been 5 weeks since your journey to Egypt started – and so much had already happened to you.

All the difficulties you had to go through helped you and the boys creating an intimate bond, which was really helpful considering how much time you had to spend together and the delicate mission you were on – harmony within the group was essential. So far, you had created a wonderful, particular bond with Kakyoin. The two of you just happened to have a lot of interests in common, and he was so nice to have around: he would often take care of you, putting his jacket on your shoulders whenever he thought it was too cold for you, training with you and helping you to know your stand better. You two had managed to create a wonderful friendship and always spent so much time together, talking about books, films and about all the stand you had met since the start.

5 weeks ago, you arrived in Japan with Joseph. He found you when you were only a baby in a park on a cold night of November and decided to take you home with him and to treat you as if you were is second daughter. Him and Suzie Q were the only family you had ever had and known, and you would have done everything for them and Holly.

You were only some months older than Jotaro and had met him throughout the years – however, your memories with him weren’t much and they weren’t vivid enough to say you’d know him. Over the years, you had kept contact with Holly through numerous calls, and only heard about Jojo through her. When you arrived at the Kujo’s home, Holly greeted you with a warm hug. She always considered you as a niece and nothing less, she really loved you and never failed to show you. Contrariwise to Jotaro, who welcomed you by staring at you with his piercing aquamarine eyes, remaining silent. You weren’t sure whether he recognised you or not, but it never really mattered.

The two of you had an argument almost immediately after meeting each other; he called his mother a ‘stupid bitch’ when she was only trying to steal him an hug and that made you too mad to keep your mouth shut.

Holly had always been such a sweetheart and was always so caring, there was no point in behaving like that.

Your cheeks flushed, quickly turning red.

‘What gives you the right to talk to her like this? There was no reason for you to be this rude, how can you treat your mother like that?!’ you said, raising an eyebrow while looking at him, who didn’t even bother looking at you.

He smirked, fletching the left corner of his mouth upwards. ‘I’m not going to take advices from someone who doesn’t even know who her real mother his.’ he answered coldly, readjusting his black hat so that it would fit better on his head. That was the first time he saw your stand. You quickly projected it ready to attack him – and you almost did. Joseph stopped you at the right time, placing an hand on your shoulder. That soft touch from the man you’ve always considered a father was enough to make your stand disappear. You shook your head nervously, looking furiously at Jotaro one last time, before leaving the room and following Holly to her little house tour. At the sight of your stand, Star Platinum appeared too – but it didn’t seem to have an aggressive approach; it had an admiring expression on his face while looking at your stand. You weren’t quite sure what Jotaro reaction was when you were about to attack him, and you didn’t care. You decided that the first words you heard from him after years were enough to make you stay as far as possible from him. You two had completely different energies and it was tangible to everyone.

Once the journey started, Jotaro seemed to have softened a bit. He was clearly worried for his mother’s life – despite the cold approach he usually had towards her. You began to understand that his brute-like attitude was only a way to cover his soft, sensible side; but again, you weren’t quite prone to know him better. The same couldn’t be told for him. You would often hear him asking his grandad about you and the way he brought you up. He could clearly see you could fight and he was curious to know about your training with Joseph trough the years – but not curious enough to ask you directly.

You couldn’t blame him. In the rare occasions you two actually talked to each other, you'd argue over something he said or over something he did. You were never afraid to confront him and that, at first, really caught him off guard. You never stepped back and never seemed intimidated by his behaviour or appearance. Not even him towering over you trying to scare you was enough to stop you from challenging him. He admired that of you; you were the first girl he met that didn’t make horrible, fastidious and squeaking sounds when looking at him and you were brave enough to fight him without thinking about it twice – which was unusual for Jotaro, a delinquent who threatened everyone in his school. He was used to people running away from him just at the sound of his footsteps; but you were different and didn’t care about his reputation or his façade, and that made you interesting in his eyes.

It wasn’t like you hated each other – you just didn’t seem to get along. Sometimes it felt wrong to you: he was family too, after all.

It was after a fight that the two of you stopped constantly battling each other. After defeating one of the numerous stand users sent by Dio, you were visibly tired. Your breathing was heavy and you could barely stand still, blood covering your face. It was a very challenging enemy and it took you a lot of strength to defeat him. You encountered him while you were walking alone towards the food market of the beautiful, exotic city you were in and were lucky enough to defeat him. You knew the other crusaders had started to look out for you in the numerous roads of a city they didn’t know, that fight took you too long and you just prayed a familiar face would come close to help you as soon as possible.

Ironically enough, the first one to find you was Jotaro. Star Platinum immediately recognised you and ran towards you almost independently, wrapping his strong arms around you, allowing you to relax your body completely in his strong hold. Jotaro arrived seconds later, quickly substituting Star’s arms and holding you close to his chest. You had never seen him so worried and scared. A feeble laugh left your lips, while the two of you just stared at each other. His look didn’t seem as cold as it always did, and his face was way more relaxed than usual. ‘What’s there to laugh? You’re bleeding.’ he said in a strangely soft and calm tone. ‘I’m sure he bled more than me,’ you said confidently. ‘Yare yare daze..’ he said, while removing his hat and putting it on your head, covering your face as he started walking towards the hotel, carrying your small figure in his arms, not willing to listen to you anymore.

That was the last time the two of you had shared a beautiful moment together and spoke to each other for more than five minutes.

You weren’t quite sure how Jotaro managed to be so close to Kakyoin. You knew him well him enough to know that he didn’t have anything in common with Jojo, yet they seemed to understand each other without even talking. Kakyoin told you from time to time how much you and Jotaro were actually alike, but you never truly believed him. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because Kakyoin was so naive at times – you just didn’t believe he could be right about such thing. What made you and Jotaro meet was a sad coincidence, nothing more could unite the two of you.

But as time passed, and you and Kakyoin became closer and closer, you would start to notice Star hanging around you more often than before. Sometimes it would play with your hair while you were reading something in your hotel room, other times he would just sit next to you and Kakyoin listening to your conversations, letting out some cute ‘oras’ every now and then. Your stand would occasionally come out and enjoy Star’s company; the two of them getting more along than their owners.

Star’s presence in your life or in your room never bothered you. It made you feel safe and comfortable, at ease. You’d never ask him to leave, and during certain nights you just wished he was there. Kakyoin had a strange theory, and believed that the reason why you’d get so along with Star Platinum was because you and Jotaro’s were, in some kind of ways, soulmates. He would often point out how your stand would look for or spend time with Star Platinum, emphasising the fact that a Stand simply was the projection of a soul.

You never thought it that way, but although Kakyoin’s theory made some sense you just couldn’t believe it. The way you felt when Star was near was completely different from the way Jotaro made you feel. Yes, he made you feel safe – but you never felt completely comfortable whenever he was around. You often felt judged and could never decipher what he thought about you.

Kakyoin’s words however somehow managed to stick to your mind, and the more you thought about them, the more you would look for signals from Jotaro – to either confirm or disprove the strange theory your best friend had come up with. And the more you looked for these signals, the more you started to get mesmerised by Jotaro’s aura.

He was undeniably handsome, and after all the time you had spent together you started to understand him a bit better – and this time it didn’t act as a repellent. The more you didn’t know about him, the more you wanted to discover. Every tiny occasion of seeing his soft side made your heart skip a beat or two, and it was starting to become evident to everyone. You’d occasionally blush whenever you felt Jotaro’s piercing eyes on your figure, and Joseph and Kakyoin were the first to notice. Polnareff would often joke about it, telling you that you should rather focus on French guys – but he eventually gave up on that, and started suggesting you to ask Avdol for one of his predictions.

Jotaro’s attentions towards you were increasing day by day. He would always choose the hotel room closer to yours, and purposely sit next to you during car rides, offering you is shoulder if you ever felt tired – and you never declined it. He would randomly join you and offer you a cigarette, making the two of you enjoy 5 minutes of comfortable and relaxing silence, often under the stars as both of you suffered from a bad insomnia.

Kakyoin kept insisting: Jotaro actually felt something for you, and he was convinced you did too. You always denied it, but deep down you knew a strong emotion was slowly growing in your heart.

But you would have always kept it for your self – it would have been to awkward to admit it and you just preferred to dig this feeling as deep inside you as possible. He was Joseph’s nephew, and although you two weren’t related in any way, Joseph was like a father for you. He was stubborn and annoying, and sometimes he was able to drive you mad. How could you even feel something for him? You shook your head, hoping these thoughts would be wiped off your mind too.

You were sitting on the railing of the balcony on your hotel room while the same exact thoughts, as almost every night, were running through your head. Star had been sitting next to you for the whole night and you naively talked to it about your feelings; maybe because it represented the soul of the boy you were so caught up with, maybe because you knew that it would have kept your secret safe. Sweet ‘oras’ were the only words you have ever heard from him and somehow those words were way more heart-warming than anything else.

That moment was interrupted by the clicking of your room’s door. You quickly turned, facing the entrance of your door from the terrace and revealing your stand, ready to fight. Next to you, without you noticing, Star had disappeared. The door silently closed and heavy footsteps paved the way reaching to you.

‘Yare yare.. You never change, do you? I’m sure you’ll kill me one day.’ a soothing, familiar voice broke the tension in the room before the figure revealed itself in the darkness of the night, illuminated only by the moon and the city’s lights. You relaxed your shoulder and took a deep breath, retiring your stand.

‘You could always knock before entering a room, Jotaro.’ You said, seemingly irritated.

In reality, you were only happy to see him there with you. He fixed his hat as he usually did, before coming closer to you, resting his back on the balcony. ‘Isn’t it dangerous to sit on there? You could fall.’ He said, looking at you.

The usual height difference was now minimalised as you were sitting on the balcony’s railings, allowing you two to perfectly look in each other’s eyes. You shrugged, while Jotaro carefully put an arm behind you as a precaution. You followed his movements before making a new eye contact with him. For a second, you couldn’t breathe. He was breathtakingly beautiful; his aquamarine eyes were shining and the soft moonlight gracefully highlighted his facial features.

‘What are you doing here? Can’t sleep?’ You asked, forcing yourself to come back to reality, breaking the silence and not answering his pervious question.

He shook his head, whispering a ‘no’ before biting his bottom lip and hiding his face under his hat.

You hated that hat – it allowed him to make his emotions indecipherable (as if he wasn’t good enough at it) and it also hid his beautiful, slick black curls, which you’d only seen once or twice. You took his hat off his head, receiving a sharp look from him. If looks could kill, you were sure you would have been dead by now. He didn’t try to stretch and take his hat back from your hands to avoid making you lose balance and eventually fall from the balcony. You put the hat on your head smiling, looking at him proudly. He looked at you and you swore you saw a little smile on his face, as if what you did just softened him.

‘How come?’ you asked, your eyes locked on his figure. ‘Someone was busy talking to Star Platinum.’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘You know, it’s hard to fall asleep when a conversation is so interesting.’ he said in a challenging way, while he looked up at the sky doing his best to not look at you. Hearing those words made your heart stop. How stupid could you be? How could you not think about the possibility that he would somehow know? Your cheeks turned as red as a cherry while you breath started to shorten and become quicker. Your mind started running wild trying to find a good excuse, leaving you speechless. You gulped, creaking the bones of your fingers with one hand trying to remain calm and collected. He looked at you and helped you getting down from the banister of the balcony, placing his big hands on your waist. He gently moved you in front of him, his hands firmly grasping on you. He leaned towards you, putting his forehead against yours. You were completely hypnotised by his actions and didn’t manage to say a word since he last spoke, your body shaking. You were too busy rehearsing all the things you said about him to Star. He lifted your chin up placing his index finger under it, forcing you to look at him for seconds that felt like an eternity. He took a deep breath before speaking again. ‘Don’t worry. It’s mutual.’

Before you could elaborate what Jotaro just said to you, he placed a passionate kiss on your lips, tightening the grip on your waist. Despite the surprise, you didn’t think twice about reciprocating the kiss, putting your hands on his muscular chest.

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baronessblixen · 4 years ago

Note

Some angst with fluff at the end? "Please. I don't think I can do this anymore."

So this was inspired by yesterday’s rooftop anon and @mypanicface. Thank you. It has angst, fluff and is a journey through their life together. Tagging @today-in-fic and @xffictober

Fictober Day 10

“Please,” Scully says, squeezing Mulder’s hand, looking at him with unshed tears in her eyes. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” And Mulder can’t let go. He can’t let go of The X-Files or the search for his sister, the truth. Most of all, and it hits him violently in the gut, making him dizzy, he can’t let go of Scully. One year ago, she strolled into his basement office with a soft smile and no idea what she’d gotten herself into. Now, his little spy has become his greatest confidant. The thought of losing her is unfathomable.

“I have an idea,” he says, entwining their fingers, and bringing her to the place that up until to now, has been his and his only.

“I didn’t even know your building had a rooftop.”

“Most people don’t.” He grins at her. “I have a key.”

There’s not much space but it’s always just been him, so it was enough. He motions for Scully to sit down on the beat-up chair he found in a corner the first time he’s come up here. She sits with a thankful smile and he crouches next to her, his knees uncomfortable on the cold, hard concrete.

“The sun is setting,” Scully says, her voice as soft as the colors stretching over the sky above them.

“I know,” he replies, watching her instead. “I come here sometimes to think. To watch the sunset and remind myself that the world isn’t all bad. I thought maybe I could… get a second chair, a second set of keys.”

Scully turns to him. There are still tears in her eyes, but the ashen look of desperation in her face has vanished. The last rays of sunshine tangle in her hair and caress her cheeks.

“I would like that, Mulder.”

There are two chairs now and only one of them here to use them. He stares at the empty, silent seat beside him. Up above him, the sky is grey, as listless as he is. The sunset is hidden behind dark, angry clouds. Hope is dwindling with every passing day. The hope that they’ll find Scully. That they’ll find her alive.

A sliver of blue finds its way through the layers of bitter clouds, cracks it open just one bit. He clings to that small promise, to the possibility of faith.

Where are you Scully? he thinks, holding her cross between his fingers, trying to find the strength to go on.

“Hey,” he says, drawing his chair close to hers.

“I didn’t know where to go,” she says as a way of apology.

He shakes his head. “I told you this place is as much yours as mine.” Her knuckles are white from gripping the armrest. He touches the hand right next to him and she startles.

“I’m just so angry, Mulder. And my mother she… I couldn’t stand the look on her face anymore.” She lifts her head to the clouds. “I can’t believe I’ll never talk to Melissa ever again.”

“I’m sorry, Scully. For your loss, for… everything.”

Their fingers intertwine on their own account. The sun sets right before their eyes, a last hurrah for the day. Tomorrow, they will do this all over again. Just a respite before another fight, before another injustice. Before another loss. Neither of them lets go of the other, not for the longest time, not until they’re engulfed into complete darkness, the night’s cold nipping at them and reminding them that they, against all odds, are still alive.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Scully says, standing next to him, and even though he’s not looking at her, he knows she’s frowning. She’s bundled up in a thick coat, needing the warmth, needing to hide her diminishing body away. No amount of layers can cover up the truth they both know.

She’s dying.

Mulder looks straight ahead at where the sun bleeds red into the sky. What does it matter to her? Why does she care what happens to him once she’s gone? His thoughts buzz in his head, like a swarm of angry bees. He wants to throw the chair away, to hide the keys. How can he ever return here once she’s buried in the cold earth?

“Mulder, I mean it. What you did… why did you do it? Why did you let someone drill a hole into your head?” Her voice rises with every word she says. He doesn’t have answers for her. He can’s save her and so he doesn’t deserve to be saved. Definitely not by her.

“I can’t- Mulder, please look at me.” He can’t deny her when she’s pleading with him. How can he deny her anything now when she’s dying? With force, he turns his head towards her. “I can’t bear the thought that you hurt yourself. You need to start taking better care of yourself.”

His nod is an empty promise, but she sits next to him anyway. He holds her tiny, cold hand in his and squeezes it tightly before he interlaces their fingers. Maybe some of his warmth, some of his life, can seep into her. She needs it more than he does.

“You said you wanted to talk to me?” Mulder is hesitant in sitting down. There’s a gentle breeze in the air, a hint of summer palpable in the rich bouquet of new beginnings.

“Hmm.” There’s a soft, albeit shy smile on her face that disarms his heart. He sits down, glances briefly at the early sunset, not yet in full procession, coloring them in golden hues.

“I must admit I was a bit, um, worried when I got your message because-“

“I want a baby, Mulder.” The smile is still there, now mixed with determination. She wants this. She really wants this. He swallows hard, his mind rushing through all the implications. Scully wants a child.

“That’s um…”

“I got a second opinion for the ova you’ve stored. There’s a good chance that IVF will work for me.”

“That’s incredible, Scully.”

She nods, watching him. “There’s just one problem. It’s not a problem, just- I need…, you know…”

“A father,” he supplies.

“So to speak. I don’t want you to answer right away, Mulder, because I know this is a big decision and one that neither of us should make lightly. I’ve spent all week thinking about it. You were my first thought when Dr. Parenti said there was a chance. During the week, I realized that… I don’t want you to feel pressured or like this is something that you have to do. I want you to think about it, okay?”

“You want me to be the…” now he can’t say it. Father. Scully wants him to be the father of her child.

“Please think about it. I’m going to leave you alone now.” She squeezes his shoulder and he sits there, frozen and shell-shocked. His eyes are trained on the sky where soft, pale blue and pink stripes frolic together. There’s no decision to be made. His heart pounds in his chest.

They’re going to try and make a baby.

She doesn’t say a word as she hands him a key. The key to the rooftop. He stares back at her, dumbfounded.

“I thought maybe you’d like it back.” Her voice is clipped, as neatly coiffed as her hair.

“Why?”

“I figured you’d like to share it with someone else.”

“Scully, no.” But she’s already leaving. He catches her right when her hand lands on the doorknob. “This is our place,” he says. “Diana doesn’t even know it exists. Neither would I want her to. Please stay? Look at that sunset.”

She doesn’t. She’s staring at her own hand, wrapped around the knob, still ready to leave. He couldn’t blame her if she did.

“Hey?” He touches her chin, making it impossible for her not to look at him. There’s a glimmer of anger in her eyes. These days, no matter what he does, he’s only making things worse. “Just one sunset. It promises to be pretty tonight.”

Wordlessly, she lets go, trots over to her chair, and sits down. She moves it away from his own, widening the distance. As soon as they’ve both settled, as soon as he dares, he reaches out to take her hand. She lets him hold it and he knows they will be okay again, in the end.

“We should have done it like this from the start,” Mulder says grinning up at Scully. She’s perched on his lap, her arms around his neck, and her head leaning against his. It won’t take long tonight, the sun in a hurry to set in the frosty autumn air.

“We weren’t ready then.” Scully’s giggle disappears into his neck where she nuzzles him with the tip of her freezing nose. He can’t wait to get back inside, to warm her up. Who needs sleeping bags when you have a warm bed and the hottest woman on earth?

“You’re not even looking at the sunset, Scully.”

“I’ve seen it before,” she says with a yawn.

“Are you tired? It’s only afternoon.”

“Well, we were busy last night.” Another giggle and a kiss against his jaw. He loves this Scully, the playful one. Sure, he loves every Scully he’s ever encountered; from the bossy badass to the one who needs help reaching the cupboards in his apartment.

“I plan on being busy again tonight,” he says into her hair.

“Can we skip the sunset tonight, Mulder? Maybe we can even see it from your bedroom.”

“You’re right. We should definitely check that theory.”

There are no certainties, only a sea full of possibilities, but Mulder knows this is the last time he’ll be sitting here, watching the sunset from the rooftop of his building. His bags are packed; everything he needs ready to start a new life somewhere else. Where that will be, he doesn’t yet know.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Scully says softly, cradling her heavy stomach. He can’t help but smile when he sees her, overcome with love for her and their baby. If only there wasn’t the nagging feeling of fear, too. What if they can’t keep their child safe? What if?

“I thought I’d say goodbye.”

“You don’t know that, Mulder.” She takes her hand in his, their fingers automatically entwining.

“Hmm,” he replies. He does know. This chapter is over. “We’ve had some good moments up here, didn’t we?”

“We did.”

“Sad ones, too.”

“No more sad ones,” she says, putting their entwined hands on her stomach.

If only life were that easier. But as he looks at the sky, the same sky it’s always been, the familiar colors that still find ways to surprise him now and then, he knows that they will be fine. No matter where he is, where she is, the sun will set every day, sleep, and rise again. There’s always going to be hope.

#fictober2020 #early post today!#i like this one #msr #xf fanfic #my writing #my fic #Anonymous

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

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Luggage Tags

Summary: To love someone, to lie to someone, to leave someone. Marinette and Jason tell people they’re together, but things fall apart.

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The room is dark when Jason enters. He flicks the light on to see Marinette, looking right at him.

“Pixie? What are you doing? Why were you sitting in the dark like that?”

Marinette just stares at him.

Jason shrugs and moves to the kitchen counter. The first year they were together, she woke up with nightmares. She still got nightmares sometimes, but for the past few months, she’s been prone to getting episodes like this, where she stares at the door in the dark and doesn’t talk to him for hours. He’s not really sure what’s changed, but it could be any number of things. Trauma affects everyone in different ways.

“Pasta tonight? Job’s been taking me to Japanese restaurants every day.”

Marinette faces him, but Jason doesn’t think she’s really looking at him. Her eyes track him around the room whenever she gets like this, but her face is always so devoid of emotion and so unresponsive that she’s only subconsciously recognizing his figure.

She starts sobbing. That’s new.

“Hey, hey,” Jason soothes, approaching her with one hand out and a rumbling baritone. It feels stupid to do this, but during one of her nightmares, she flipped him in her sleep and he cracked a rib. “You’re not in Paris anymore. We’re in Gotham. Hawkmoth can’t hurt you here.”

That just gets her to sob harder, shoulders shaking tears forming rivers down her face, settling in her laugh lines. Jason hasn’t seen Marinette laugh in a long time.

He goes to wrap her in a hug, but she bats his arms away, chest heaving. The time between each breath is so short, she’s just short of hyperventilating.

“C’mon, Mari, breathe with me. In for one, two, three, out for one, two three.” He feels so helpless, carefully maintaining a distance from his best friend and lover. At times like this, he can do nothing but watch as she suffers. It hurts, because even though Marinette doesn’t let him in her space even though he should be helping her, holding her, crying with her.

She does that for him, when his nightmares get bad. Marinette wraps him up in an ever gentle hug, not minding the scratches she gets or the threats he ends up giving her.

Her presence is an instant balm, the scent of butter, sugar, and clean.

Jason shrugs off his leather jacket and tries again. She’s been weird about his jacket and certain clothes as of late. He’s not sure why— she never explains, just purses her lips and looks stubbornly to the floor— but he tries to avoid the clothes she dislikes as much as possible. He supposes she gets annoyed at seeing tiny imperfections in her old designs sometimes, so Jason carefully packs those clothes away and out of sight. But he’s never been able to part with this leather jacket. It was her first gift to him, with her name embroidered on the inside of the jacket, right over his heart. He always makes sure that he treats this jacket very well, never wearing it to a fight, and cleaning and caring for it more often than he needs to. Marinette spent a long time on the jacket, and during the first year of their relationship, she liked tracing the smaller details with an index finger before pulling him into a kiss. When she was feeling down, she batted the zippers with a pout on her face. They had too many good memories on this jacket for Jason to put it away permanently.

Her tears start to subside, so Jason tries again. She hisses.

“Please, Jason. Just— just make dinner for yourself. I can’t be here right now.” With that, she stands, grabs an overcoat and a purse, casts a lingering glance at the jacket Jason left on the sofa and closes the door so quietly, he barely hears it.

They continue on like this for months.

“Do you need to start seeing your therapist again?” Jason asks one night.

Marinette laughs, and it sounds like a parody of the full-bellied sound that’s trademark of anything she really finds funny. “Jason, I’ve been seeing her for months now.”

His fork clicks against the ceramic. Marinette insisted on only buying things they would use, so the finest dishwater they had were the wine glasses gifted to Marinette by Kagami half a year ago. That had been a very odd encounter. The woman stormed into the apartment, with a curse at the edge of her tongue, four bottles of very expensive wine, and two more bottles of 70 proof liquor. She ushered Marinette into their bedroom and locked Jason out for the entire night.

“Oh,” Jason says, eloquence failing him.

“Have you— have you been feeling any better lately?”

She laughs again, and it makes him feel tiny. “Thanks to my therapist, I think I’m finally coming to terms with what Kagami told me.”

“I see.”

“Do you want to know what Kagami told me?”

He does, but Marinette is always good at talking about things when she’s ready to. If he pushes her now, she might end up in a bad place again. With his siblings, he has to push and push constantly to squeeze any information out of them. Marinette’s tendency to speak her mind is much more Jason’s speed. He’s the same kind of person. That’s a big part of the reason they get along so well.

Her hand drops to the stem of her wine glass. She swirls the white around and stares at the way the edges drip back down into the body of liquid.

“Then let’s talk about something else. How’s Tim doing? I haven’t talked to him in a while?”

“Really?” Jason raises an eyebrow. This morning, after he finished his week-long excursion to California, he dropped by Wayne Enterprises, and Tim gushed about a new coffee blend Marinette showed him.

“It’s been a few days,” Marinette clarifies.

“Probably just more of the same. Keeping Wayne Enterprises afloat and Gotham out of trouble.” A few days isn’t that long. Even the Replacement couldn’t stir up that much trouble.

“I’ve missed you,” Marinette says, looking down at the steak she prepared.

“Me too, Mare.”

“You’ll tell me when you leave, right?”

“I always do.”

The rest of their meal is eaten in silence.

“I love you.” She’s holding a freshly cut bouquet, standing at the door of his old bedroom in the manor.

Jason grabs the bouquet, grimaces, then kisses her on the cheek. “Mare, there’s thorns on these. You’re bleeding.”

“Am I?” Her voice is faint. She’s wearing a dress made out of some sort of airy fabric. It sort of makes her look like a spirit that’s ready to float away with the wind.

“Has the therapist been helping any?” His brow furrows. Marinette never hurts herself intentionally like this. She only gets hurt for others. No matter how much he tries to persuade her to stop sacrificing herself for others, Marinette just loves the world too much.

“Can I come in?”

His frown deepens. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll meet you in the dining room. We can go out on a date. It has been a month since we’ve last seen each other.”

“Right,” Marinette says with a voice so small, he has to strain to hear her. “A few minutes.”

He locks the door behind him, throws on the latest set of clothes Marinette dropped off at the manor, leaves his bed unmade, and a note on the table. When he gets down to the dining room, Alfred informs him that Marinette has been called away for an emergency meeting.

“An emergency meeting? But it’s the weekend!”

Alfred just looks at him and shakes his head.

One day, Jason comes back to find nobody in their apartment. That’s odd, because Marinette has some sort of super sense about when he’s coming back, even though he never tells anybody. Every time he comes back from being outside for longer than a few days, Marinette has always been at home, waiting for him with a smile and a hug. Well, lately, with a blank stare and tears, but she was always still there.

Maybe he should try going to therapy with her, see what’s been getting her so down. She never talks about herself anymore, just about her friends and what they do. He doesn’t know how her business is doing or even what she enjoys anymore. The game console that was used to play UMS every weekend gathers dust underneath their television.

He checks his phone. No text or missed calls from her either. Nothing since a few days ago, anyways.

“Hey,” Jason calls Tim. “Is Mare at the company?”

There’s static and the sound of breath from the other end of the line. Then it cuts out, and his phone makes the disconnected noise. Tim’s been pretty pissy, lately, and rarely takes his calls. Jason tosses his phone on the couch and runs a hand through his hair. He twirls the white tuft Marinette likes to play with. He should shower before she gets back.

He looks down at his phone.

“I’ll try one more time,” he says.

It goes straight to voicemail.

She doesn’t come home the next day, or the day after that.

Jason storms into the manor. “Where is she?”

“Where is who, Master Jason?”

“You know damn well who I’m talking about. There’s only one girl who’s location I’m ever interested in.”

Alfred in his butler suit is very good at looking condescending, even without changing his posture dramatically. “Is that so, Master Jason? You could have fooled me, then. Last time you were hunting for Talia. The time before that, Lady Cassandra.”

Jason snarls. “I don’t mean it like that. Just tell me where she is. I’m worried. She hasn’t been back in days.”

Damian comes down the steps, looking every inch the brat he was when they first met. “Don’t answer him, Pennyworth. He isn’t worth the air.”

Jason rounds on his little brother, reaching out to grab him by his shoulder. “What does that mean, huh, Demon Spawn?”

Damian doesn’t even bother breaking stride to look at him in the eyes. He barely moves enough to dodge Jason’s grasp, then continues on his way to the dining room like Jason’s not even there. Dread begins to pool in Jason’s stomach. He feels more Lazarus than he has in years, and there is no Marinette to cradle him while he breaks right now.

“Where is she?”

“You’re supposed to be her boyfriend,” Damian scoffs. “Then again, you’ve never been very good at playing your part.”

The perks of having a famous girlfriend: the internet knows exactly where she is.

The cons of having a famous girlfriend: the internet knows exactly where she is.

Jason feels terrible. It’s Fashion Week in Paris. Jason always makes the time to go to Fashion Week with Marinette. She reminds him months and months in advance the exact dates that Fashion Week is going to be that year, and he always, always blocks out at least two days to be with her.

He almost thinks about flying out, but Fashion Week is basically already over, and the day she presented her Spring/Summer line already passed.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

His message goes straight to voicemail.

He goes on another mission.

The next time Jason comes back home, Marinette is sitting in that same chair in the darkness again.

“I’m back,” he says, trying to gauge what mental state she’s in right now. “I missed you.”

She sits, primly, properly, and in silence. Jason flicks the light on.

“You love me,” Marinette states. How long has it been since he’s last heard her voice in person? Two months? Three?

“Yeah,” Jason agrees, crossing the room to give her a hug. “Of course I do.”

A sharp intake of breath. Marinette holds her arm out, eyes pinched close, lips devoid of color. “I love you, too, Jason.”

His heart softens. He needs to start spending more time at home.

She rises to her feet, placing a hand on her Ladybug-red luggage.

“Are you going on a business trip? I’m sorry I didn’t make it to your last line.”

There’s a careful blankness in her eyes that makes him uneasy. Something about the size of her luggage, and the fact that there are things missing from around the house. The gramophone that holds the Miraculous is missing from the side table. Pictures of Marinette, Kagami, Chloe, and Alya have disappeared. All of the plants that Marinette meticulously keeps alive are gone.

“No,” Marinette says. “I’m leaving for good.”

Sun streaks through the window blinds. The bags underneath her eyes are prominent, and her whole face looks swollen.

“Oh,” Jason says. “Did you find a better apartment? I can put off my next mission so we can move into it.”

Marinette blinks. She laughs, full belly, but Jason’s heart squeezes. Her voice sombers. “Jason, it’s better if we break up now. I’m-- I’m tired. I can’t do this anymore.”

He can see every fine line on Marinette’s face. When did she get them? He can’t recall. “What do you mean? Why?”

Slowly, Marinette drags her luggage forward and pops his collar, staring at it with sad, sad eyes. She runs a bitten-to-the-quick finger down the zipper of his leather jacket, holds the zipper in her hand and sets it back down with nary a jingle. Her smile forms with her lips, not her teeth, and the wrinkles at the sides of her eyes don’t gather up. It’s a soft, sad, small thing. Tip-toeing, Marinette presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “You’re a good man, Jason. But I can’t trust you with my heart.”

She leaves her key hanging at the peg and closes the door gently.

@jasonette-july-2k20

#angst #jasonette #miraculous ladybug #dcu #maribat #jasonette july #original content #marinette dupain cheng #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #breakup

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unityghost · 4 years ago

Text

Strangers

Here’s some new fanfiction for those of you who wanted to see some (and I know some of you did). Sorry for my cat delaying the writing process by shoving her chonky little body into my lap.

Have fun with the angst that occasionally makes me question my decision to refrain from anonymity.

Part 28 of Post-Asmodeus Sabriel Feels because I can’t stop myself. Find the full series here.

That Thursday afternoon, two days after they had left early in the morning for Missouri, Dean and Sam returned home.

Gabriel, who was aware of Sam’s impending return, had left his door open so that Sam could simply enter if he wanted.

Sam knocked on the doorframe anyway. “Hey.”

“Hey,” said Gabriel. “Nice gash on your knuckles there, soldier. You didn’t even try to clean yourself up, did you?”

Sam glanced down at the offending hand. “I was distracted, I guess. And I thought it wasn’t really important.”

“What the hell did that to you? Pennywise?”

“The witch had a familiar. Guess she’d trained it to go after anyone who might want to mess with her.” “Was her familiar a saber-toothed tiger?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“A wolf?”

“No. She had a, uh - ” Sam cleared his throat. “A gerbil she’d probably done some powerful spellwork on.”

“Perfect! There’s your story for any awkward silence at the next family reunion. Can I try and heal you? You got bitten like chum.”

“Definitely not. Don’t waste any of your grace on this.”

“Whether ‘this’ was from the Loch Ness monster or a jacked class pet doesn’t make any difference to me. Come on, get over here.”

Sam gave a sigh and stepped nearer so that he could offer his hand. Gabriel grabbed him by the wrist and examined the wound, which was no longer bleeding but evidently had not been properly sanitized.

He pressed his thumb into the jagged cut, waited a moment (I’m gonna look like a tool if this doesn’t work), and let a warm pulse of grace permeate the skin. Gabriel’s own human form crawled with gooseflesh as the surge of power rose up and then ebbed out of him. He pulled away once the damage was no longer visible.

“Look at that!” he declared, taken aback by the pride in his voice. “No big deal.”

Sam studied his hand and then grinned at Gabriel. “Thanks. Nice work.”

“Keep away from any and all furry fiends, Sam.” A wave of exhaustion overtook Gabriel on the tail end of the sentence. “Yeah, um … listen, I’m glad you’re safe and sound. And I guess maybe it’s been a long morning or something, so I’m gonna go ahead and kick back for a good half hour or so. That sound okay to you?”

“You’re tired because you just used up your grace.” Gabriel could see it: Sam was making a conspicuous effort not to appear perturbed. “Gabe, man, you really didn’t - ”

“It’s not that, it’s not that; I just … I just need …” Gabriel rubbed his forehead. “Whatever, I’m all right; I just want to lie down for a few minutes. You know me. I’m like Manhattan: sexy, psychotic, and eternally sleepless.”

Sam looked concerned, but nodded. “Sure. I’ll be around if you need anything.”

Once Sam had left, closing the door in his wake, Gabriel felt sleep overcome him in a way it typically didn’t when he tried to fall asleep at night. His entire body was worn down, as if he had forced it to its limits over a number of hours. He almost wished he hadn’t offered to heal Sam; what use would he be if something more serious came up?

But he had little time to dwell on the question, as exhaustion overwhelmed the ability to think.

He slept deeply, as he almost never did; and in the abyss of his own subconscious, he heard voices.

I can’t be alone with them, I can’t; I don’t know them!

Shut your mouth, you spoiled little weasel. They gon’ be good to you; ain’t that right, boys?

I don’t know them; I don’t know them!

Oh, well now, you’ll get to know them soon enough. And ain’t these fellas just so lucky to ignite a friendship with my favorite archangel? Sometimes I wish I could make your acquaintance all over again, boy. There ain’t nothin’ like the first time.

I don’t know them; I don’t know them! Please, no, wait! Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you touch me? Stop it! Stop it! Look at me! Help me!

What happened in his dreams seemed to last hours; and indeed, when the door creaked open and a small voice called his name, the time was 5:00 P.M. - three and a half hours since Gabriel had told Sam he needed rest.

“Are you okay?” Jack called. “Sam told me to come check on you.”

With the flat, bitter taste of afternoon slumber in his mouth, Gabriel sat up. His face felt warm where it had pressed into the pillow. “Yeah. Yes. Apparently Sam went and got himself chewed up by a bloodthirsty hamster, and I thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to try and fix it. Guess I had less in me than I thought.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. It was a gerbil, by the way. Not a hamster.”

“Whatever. Something in the category of small, furry, and unexpectedly lethal.”

“You know how witches are. Imagine what Rowena could do with a gerbil.”

Gabriel yawned. “Guess I’ve never thought about it.”

“You’re not shaking, are you?”

“Me? Nah.”

Jack stared at him. "I don't like seeing you like this."

"No refunds. Sorry, little guy.”

Jack watched him for a few moments, then strode over to the bed and wrapped his arms around Gabriel.

Jack pulled away, crestfallen. "Oh. I'm ... I'm sorry. I guess I thought I could help. If I had my powers, I ... maybe I could do more."

Gabriel shook his head. "Doubt it, bud. Don't feel bad, all right? This isn't about anything you're doing wrong. It's about me being too icky for you. Don't want you to get whatever disease it is I've turned into." Gabriel hadn’t anticipated this bitterness, especially not in front of Jack. The rush of self-loathing had seized him without warning.

Jack's expression creased into an odd mix of horror and puzzlement. Perhaps he sensed that these words were troubling, but didn’t fully understand them.

“You go ahead and tell Sam I’ll be right out,” Gabriel said, feeling as though he had just violated his nephew in some way. “Go on, let him know. I just need to stretch, all right?”

Slowly, Jack nodded. “Are you upset because I hugged you?”

“No! No, come on; I’m not upset over that, or over anything else. Don’t worry so much. I’m a grown-ass angel and can take care of my own damn self. And even if I couldn’t, the job isn’t yours.”

Jack seemed uncertain of what to say in response, so he simply nodded again, forced a smile, and exited the bedroom.

“Close the door,” Gabriel called. “I like to get my bearings in solitude.”

“Sure,” said Jack, although he sounded anything but sure.

Once the door was shut and Jack’s footsteps - lighter than Sam’s, more staccato - Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. He would have liked to have been able to shake the dream off before heading into the hall, before seeing anyone else, but it stirred its way through his insides and refused to leave.

Once he had some semblance of composure, he dragged himself out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, where he found Jack and Sam sitting at the table in conversation.

Gabriel was disappointed but not surprised to hear Jack say, “And I think something might be wrong with him, but I don’t really know what” before both of them fell silent upon Gabriel’s entry.

“Oh, hey,” said Sam. There was a mug of coffee in front of him, still steaming. “You feeling okay? Were you asleep that whole time?”

“I …”

Sam glanced at Jack, who looked troubled. “Give us a minute.”

“I don’t think it’s true,” Jack said, not to Sam but to Gabriel. “It’s not true what you said about being able to take care of yourself.” He sounded bewildered.

No, Gabriel realized, He sounds hurt.

“I know when you’re not telling me the truth,” Jack said.

Before Gabriel could respond, Sam put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “For now, Jack. Okay?”

Jack looked back and forth between Sam and Gabriel, helpless, frustrated - and then jerked himself out of Sam’s grip and left the room.

Gabriel watched him leave. Once Jack was out of earshot, he said, “Kid’s messed up. My fault. He needs you more than I do.”

“No. No, he’s all right. He just wants to help and doesn’t know how.”

“Well, that’s not how things are supposed to be.”

“So, um …” Sam sat down. He was probably expecting Gabriel to do the same, but Gabriel felt more comfortable standing up. “What happened? Is something wrong? Jack said - ”

“I heard what Jack said.” Gabriel looked down, examining the floor.

“Are you okay?” Sam pressed.

“I’m fine.”

“You want me to ask Jack? See if he can confirm?”

Jack, who had been sent in place of Sam; who had been given the unfortunate duty of making sure that his uncle wasn’t in urgent need of help. Jack, who should have been too young to know anything of Gabriel’s pain. Jack, who was incapable of choosing for himself whether to opt in as caregiver or to step away from what he didn’t know - couldn’t know - was too heavy for such a naive spirit.

“No,” Gabriel said. “I would like to humbly request that you not ask him a single freakin’ thing.”

“Did you have bad dreams?”

The images floated into the present, still warm. He saw the face of a stranger (a demon whose presence had been background noise during Gabriel’s imprisonment, but who apparently had taken up space in his memory), bloated with derision and the definite appetite that only manifested in nightmares.

“Yeah,” Gabriel told Sam. “But - I mean, that’s, you know - ” Words hummed into static as he tried to think of just what to confess, and whether he ought to say anything at all. It wouldn’t necessarily do any good for either of them - and especially not for Sam, who had had only a few hours to recover from his encounter with a witch and her maniacal gerbil.

Sam gave him a moment to think before stepping in. “Look, Gabe, don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I can tell when something’s the matter with you. Jack isn’t the only one.”

“Stop talking about Jack!” Gabriel snapped, and Sam blinked in surprise.

He asked, “Can I maybe do anything to help?”

Gabriel could tell that Sam feared pushing conversation, confession, or counsel. Sam wanted to know; Sam had every right to know. Gabriel owed him at least some piece of the truth. And so he said: “I’m sorry. Maybe I just missed you while you were away.”

Sam smiled at him. “You knew I was coming back, right?”

“Sure I did.” A pause, and then: “However, there is the minor possibility that the halfway point between ‘I’ll be right back’ and ‘I’ll head home once you’ve taken out the trash’ got lost in translation.”

Sam didn’t seem to immediately understand what Gabriel meant. When his look of puzzlement became one that Gabriel couldn’t quite identify - resigned, but also horrified - Sam got to his feet and took a few steps toward Gabriel and held out the hand that, just hours earlier, had sported an ugly wound.

“Oh please,” Gabriel said. “We don’t have to do this. You don’t need to suckle me. Maybe I’m just a little shaky after kicking my grace into gear. I mean, don’t think I’m not glad to have used it; your hand looks a hundred times - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam said, “I missed you too.”

The kitchen tilted and fogged. Sam jolted forward and caught him as Gabriel’s knees buckled, although he hadn’t felt particularly weak or faint up until that moment.

Like a punch to the jaw, he thought. Enough force at once and down you go.

Sam helped him to sit at the table.

“That was on purpose,” said Gabriel. “I was trying to do a cartwheel.”

“Can I get you some water? Some coffee? There’s still a lot left.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t need - I mean, there’s not much to be done when everything around me is fine.”

Sam squinted at him. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Yes. I’m all right.” He glanced away. “Or I thought I was.”

Sam hesitated for a few seconds. Then he asked: “Did you really think I wasn’t going to come back?”

“No, that’s not what I thought.”

“Honestly, Gabriel?”

Gabriel sagged in the chair. “What difference does it make? My intuition isn’t exactly razor-fine these days. I knew you were coming back. You’ve got family here. You’ve got every reason in the world to dust your rodent-bitten hands of whatever case, turn around, and head home.”

“You can come with me next time, if you want.”

“No, I - ” The idea of Sam being forced to tote him around like a needy child humiliated Gabriel. “I just see everything as a landmine, that’s all. You know what? You could tell me, ‘By the way, we’re thinking of retiling the bathroom’ and my first thought would be, ‘Have they been hinting that I’m supposed to retile the bathroom and I was too dense to pick up on it? Are they angry? Can I do something to make up for not retiling the bathroom? Did they run out of tasks to keep me around and are trying to think of some other use for me, or - ’”

“Okay,” Sam interrupted, “I get the picture. The important thing is I’m back now; I’m here, and you’re okay. It’s all okay.”

“Great. I can feel my troubles drifting away like spider silk on the summer breeze.”

“I know it’s easier said than believed, but that still doesn’t make it less true.”

Gabriel straightened up a little. The room was no longer spinning. “Sam, I know that you wouldn’t just, you know, completely disappear. I know that, okay? And even if you did go AWOL, I’ve got a whole team over here; it’s not like you’d be replaced with a stranger or - or anyone who wanted to hurt me. I know that,” he emphasized, and Sam, looking concerned, didn’t reply. “But,” Gabriel added, “I think I may have fallen into a little bit of an old pattern without realizing it. And I can’t really say why now, out of the blue. It isn’t as if you haven’t left for days at a time to do your job.”

“Is this the first time you ever felt that way when I left? Like I wasn’t going to come home? Like I was going to leave you to someone else?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, before he realized that that was actually wrong. In fact, he couldn’t remember an instance of Sam traveling when Gabriel hadn’t been, at the very least, nervous about being left without him. “I mean, no, but I haven’t had a nightmare about it. Not one this bad, not one this gruesome.” He swallowed. “I guess I was catching up on lost sleep, especially after using my grace.”

“What’d you dream about?”

“Oh, I dreamed about Asmodeus. And about some other demon I thought I’d maybe forgotten. One who watched over me once or twice when he - when Asmodeus - had other business to attend to. He would do to me everything Asmodeus did, only - only when he did it, it just felt different, because I didn’t even know his name. I used to plead with Asmodeus not to go, but sometimes he had to, I guess, and he left me. I look back on it, and I see that he couldn’t have stuck around for me all the time, but - ”

“Gabriel,” Sam interjected, “Can I ask you something?”

“Is it a less foreboding question than ‘can I ask you something’?”

“I want to know,” Sam said, “Why you end up trying to defend him.”

“What? I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, you do. He had no right to - ”

“I know, I know. He was in the wrong; I was the unwitting beaten animal. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“I just don’t want you to - ”

“In any case, when he left I felt exposed. When it was him, I mostly knew what to expect, even if it was just a familiar face. I remember screaming and begging with him not to leave me by myself, either with no one or with someone I didn’t really know. I remember him laughing at me whenever I did that, or just pretending like he couldn’t hear me.” Gabriel shivered.

Sam took his hand. “It’s okay. That won’t happen to you again.”

“Yeah, I know that.”

“Good.”

“What are we gonna do about Jack?”

“Jack? I told you, Jack’s fine.”

“No, he’s confused. He thinks he wants to help me, and he doesn’t know that he can’t. Of everything that’s eaten away at his innocence, I think I might be the biggest culprit.”

“What? Jeez, Gabriel, that really couldn’t be farther from the truth. And anyway, I thought you didn’t want to talk about Jack anymore.”

“I want to be better for him. Or I at least want him to see something that isn’t this. Something that isn’t me the way I am now.”

“Don’t twist yourself in knots over Jack. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Why did you send him in?”

Sam frowned. “When? To check on you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know, I was making coffee and I thought he might like to see you.” Sam suddenly looked troubled. “That’s really all it was. I wasn’t trying to stay away from you.”

“Yeah. I, uh … I know.” Gabriel focused on breathing steadily - not too shallow, not too deep - and on the weight of Sam’s hand. “You get it, right? That I trust the others, I do; but I don’t trust them the same way, exactly. You know? I can’t help that. I try, and I can’t. They care a lot; they show that they care and I like that. But it still - it feels different with you. I wish I could get everyone on the same level, Sam; it’d only be fair to you, and to them, if I could learn not to be afraid of anybody. I just don’t know how to be as okay with them as I am with you. I keep trying to fight that - I keep trying to remind myself that nobody here is dangerous. And that maybe I can ask them for the same things I would come to you for. You know, after a nightmare, or when my mind goes dark. It just feels different when you’re gone, Sam.”

Sam squeezed his hand. “That’s okay.”

“I don’t - ” Gabriel’s throat was tight. “I’m not - I still find Castiel sometimes, when I need help in the middle of the night. Wanna give you a break. He helps. Next to you, he’s the one who feels least like Asmodeus. I mean, there’s Jack, of course, but he’s a different ballgame. I can’t tell my brother the truth, though. I can’t tell him that I don’t really want him. He tries so hard and he’s a superstar. Even when I’m awake, with him, and - and crying, or sick, I can never bring myself to tell him what I’m really thinking. I can’t explain to him that a part of why I can’t really calm myself down is that I feel like I need you there.”

Sam seemed at a loss. “I don’t think that would bother Cas.”

“It’s difficult; it’s confusing to need the things that I do. It’s confusing to be this lost and out of control and dependent. I don’t think I’m handling it right.”

“There’s no right way. No wrong way, either.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Sam, but that’s just plain not true. There is a whole world of wrong ways to move through this experience. Someone with more sense would know that the aftermath of something like what happened to me isn’t as bad as being in the thick of it. But me, I can’t seem to get the one stubborn foot out of Hell no matter how hard I pull at it.” Gabriel felt his heartbeat entwine with the knot in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “I’m not supposed to need this.”

“To need what?”

“Not supposed to need to cry, I guess. I don’t think that’s the right way to get through this. What good’s crying gonna do, you know? It’s not helpful and it’s degrading.”

“It’s pretty normal, I think.”

“I don’t want it to become so frequent that - that you - ” As if his body was in a state of defiance, he felt tears slip down the edges of his nose. “That you see it so much it becomes background noise. That you don’t think - that you don’t take it seriously. I think that was part of why he started to just turn away from me. He’d seen me upset too many times to think anything of it.”

“Jesus, Gabriel, you keep trying to make this into your fault.”

“I want you to know that when I can’t - can’t hold myself together, it means nothing.”

“That’s not what I think when you cry, Gabriel.”

“After a while, though - ”

“No. And besides, you know how I feel about trying to keep it all inside.”

“Can we, uh - ” Gabriel dragged a shaking hand across his cheeks. “Can we maybe go somewhere else? I don’t want Jack to walk in and see this.”

“I can take you to my room. Can you get to your feet okay?”

Gabriel nodded and stood up, although the task proved more of a challenge than he had anticipated. Something in him was desperate not to move: he wanted to hide, to seek shelter in his own smallness.

“Come on.” Sam took his shoulder and steered him down the hall. Gabriel trained his eyes on the floor; if Jack was nearby, Gabriel wouldn’t have known.

Sam shut the door behind them as they entered the bedroom. Gabriel immediately curled up on the bed, face in his knees, hands gripping his hair.

He felt Sam sit next to him. “Hey, buddy, deep breaths.”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to look up. He hated himself for what he wanted just then: more than anything, he hoped that Sam would put an arm around him, or that Sam would hold him. But Sam was probably using caution, afraid that Gabriel would recoil from touch.

I don’t need that anyway, Gabriel told himself. I don’t need it. I don’t. I don’t need that.

“Not sure if this makes any difference,” Sam said after a while, “But try not to forget that I - that all of us - we understand what it feels like, you know. At least in some way. We all know what it’s like to want to look good for each other. All of us have been hurt pretty bad at some point. We don’t need each other any less than you need me. And we know how it feels to not want to tell the truth about that.”

Gabriel turned his head so that it rested sideways on his knees and he could look at Sam, who went on: “I just want you to keep in mind that however much you don’t like how things are right now, this isn’t you having a weird reaction to Amsodeus. I know it feels gross, but it isn’t wrong, Gabriel.”

“Doesn’t really matter,” Gabriel whispered. “I feel like I’m wrong just because of whatever it is he made me into. I’m disgusting.”

“You’re really not.”

“I can feel it, Sam. The feeling of just being something wrong. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to,” Sam told him, and Gabriel’s chest tightened at the realization that Sam knew precisely the feeling he was talking about.

“I wonder what he thought when he saw me like this,” Gabriel said hoarsely. “Sometimes he wasn’t exactly upfront about what was going on in his mind. What did he think when he saw this diseased little rodent clawing for a split second’s attention?”

Sam looked vaguely ill at these words. “It doesn’t matter what he thought of you.”

“It does matter, because I want to know that you aren’t thinking the same thing about me.”

“Well, I certainly don’t see you as a … a ‘diseased rodent.’ Where’d you come up with that? Gerbil still on your mind, huh?”

Gabriel couldn’t bring himself to return Sam’s half-hearted smile.

“I don’t see that at all,” Sam insisted. “I just see you.”

“Ugh. That’s worse.”

“You’re different. I see that. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to you being so … different. Not because it’s bad; not because it’s wrong. Just because it’s, you know …”

“Different,” Gabriel muttered.

“Right. Because ‘different’ is what happens when you’ve had everything taken from you.”

Gabriel was silent.

“You’re still Gabriel, though,” Sam reminded him.

Gabriel closed his eyes. “I don’t know if that’s what I want to be.”

“You have a choice now. You can be Gabriel any way you like.”

Gabriel hid his face again.

So Sam saw him. He saw Gabriel. And when Sam saw this terrified, sobbing phantom of what Gabriel had once been, did he really think he was seeing the true Gabriel?

And why? Gabriel thought. Why won’t he touch me?

Sam’s voice broke through once more. “Asmodeus didn’t leave you with anything good, Gabriel. All he gave you was violence and fear and shame. And look - I don’t know about you, but I think it makes sense that it’d take some work to get back any of the good things he kept out of reach.”

Gabriel raised his head, showcasing what he felt was probably a grotesquely tear-stained visage. “Sure it does. Except that if he kept all that for so long, he must have had a reason. I don’t know that I want to put up a fight for happiness I don’t even deserve.”

“You do deserve it, and you should put up a fight.”

“I don’t know if I - ”

“Then I’ll put up a fight,” Sam said. “Okay?”

Almost involuntarily, as if seizing, Gabriel jerked sideways and used both hands to grab onto Sam’s arm. He squeezed tightly, not sure exactly what he was doing or why. It felt primitive and desperate.

Sam’s features softened. “Hey, hey …”

“Is it okay?” Gabriel asked hoarsely. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Of course it’s okay.”

The bewilderment in Sam’s voice served as a reminder that Gabriel was being stupid and overly cautious, that Sam definitely didn’t mind touching him, ever; but the fear was present no matter how irrational Gabriel understood it to be.

In fact, he realized, it wasn’t fear that plagued him as he worried about Sam’s potential aversion: it was something nearer shame.

Yes, he thought, of course he was ashamed - he wasn’t afraid of Sam not wanting to touch him; he was guilty that he wanted Sam to touch him when he knew that nobody should have to.

“What’s wrong?” asked Sam, seeing that Gabriel hadn’t moved and was still clutching Sam’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel mumbled. “I think I might just be stupid.”

“No! You’re not stupid; you’re stressed.”

“I thought - you know, if you wanted to keep your hands to yourself, it’d be justified.”

“What? Listen, if you need something from me, Gabriel - some time to talk, or a hug - ”

“I can ask, I know. But I - ”

“But you don’t.”

“Well yeah, because what if you don’t want me around?”

“Come on, Gabriel, I do want you around.” Sam put a hand on Gabriel’s arm and pulled him in for an embrace. “God, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy.”

“Oh, that ship left the dock a long time ago.”

They sat in silence for several minutes. Sam held onto him, and Gabriel didn’t try to hug back. He just let himself lean against Sam, not speaking, not crying.

“Sam,” he said finally.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t get it into your head that you can’t leave to do your job. Don’t ever feel guilty about not being in my immediate vicinity just because I’m scared of my own reflection. Okay?”

“Sure, Gabriel. Okay.”

“I really mean it. Don’t let this change the way you operate. I came into your life by accident and you don’t need to take maternity leave for something that shouldn’t have thrown your life into chaos.”

Sam laughed. “I wasn’t working nine to five before you showed up, Gabriel.”

“You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“I do. I get it. You don’t have to worry about that; I’m glad you’re here. I like having you around. I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t being honest.”

Gabriel wasn’t sure how to explain that, in some ways, it would have been easier to accept the notion that Sam was lying.

Instead, he said: “I was so afraid of him, Sam.”

“I know.”

“He … but I was afraid of being left alone, too. Sometimes. I was afraid of the other demons, the ones I didn’t know. I never knew what to expect from them. They had weapons, and tricks, and insults, and - even the stupid ones were terrible; any simpleton can learn what violence is. And they watched him; they knew how to hurt me. They’d seen what he did to me. I was his toy and they were just happy to get a turn.”

Sam stiffened.

“So when you’re gone,” Gabriel whispered into his shoulder, “And I’m here with someone else, anyone else, a little of that just creeps on in. That’s all. I knew you were coming back, but I felt differently. I know Dean doesn’t want to hurt me. Or Cas, or Jack. When it was just me and those two, I didn’t - I knew I wasn’t threatened. None of this crew have ever given me any reason to believe I’m in danger around them. It’s just a dumb feeling.”

Sam sighed. “No, it’s not dumb. But you’re right: they’re not going to do anything to you.”

“When he’d come back,” Gabriel added, “He would brutalize me all over again. Taking my grace whenever there was enough to go around. Beating me until I couldn’t remember my own name. Just tearing me apart in any way he could.” Gabriel shook his head. “Didn’t matter how much I cried. He thought it was funny. ‘What a whiner,’ he’d say. ‘It’s almost like you think you didn’t deserve it.’”

“Gabriel, god!”

“Yeah, and then he’d - you know - off he’d go, leaving me sobbing like a baby. I kept hoping he’d hear me from wherever he was; I thought maybe he’d at least pay me some attention. Even if it was just to yell at me. No one wants to be wailing into their own blood and vomit solo.

“But it was my fault, always my fault. It was always me. I was the one who’d said something out of bounds; I was the one who asked for something I wasn’t supposed to want; I was the one who - who - ” Gabriel pressed himself against Sam. “And if he did show up, he’d ignore me. Turn his back, go about his business. I may as well have been any soul in Hell, just radio static.

“And when he did notice me, when he decided to stop shutting me out, he’d just say to shut up; or sometimes, for whatever reason, he would switch things up and give me a little spoonful of comfort before finding some other reason to grab me off the floor and slam me into the wall and then hold me down so he could play.”

Sam took a shivery breath. “I - yeah. Yeah, okay. Okay.”

“So when you’re gone, Sam, I can’t always think rationally. It’s as if maybe you want nothing to do with me, and the others - well, Sam’s not here to protect this nuisance who’s taken over our lives, so let’s get in what we can. And then it’s - it’s - if you don’t come back, what am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to trust?”

There was a pause. When Sam replied, he sounded restrained. “I really didn’t think about that.”

“Because there’s no reason to! Because you’ve got a brain that operates according to fact! Whereas mine leaps in any direction it sees fit in response to any threat, any hazard. And Sam, everything is a threat. Everything is a hazard. Compared to you, the others are strangers to me, and I don’t like strangers; I don’t trust them; I don’t know them.”

“I would never leave you with strangers.”

“And you shouldn’t have to leave me with anyone, Sam! I’m supposed to be able to watch over myself like a damn grown-up! But I can’t, not anymore; and who knows if the day will ever come when I’ll be able to take care of myself again? The important thing is I know you aren’t leaving me with strangers. What little remains of my rational mind finds that obvious. But these old ways of thinking, they just - they’re next to impossible for me to shake off.”

“I know.”

“That’s all this is. Old habits. Old ways of looking at what’s around me. Or what’s not.”

“I guess I’m glad you know that.” By now, Sam sounded almost as shaken as Gabriel did.

“If I could just balance out the knowing and the feeling, everything would be a whole lot easier for every single one of us. And one thing I don’t understand is …” But he trailed off, afraid of saying something the wrong way, or of being misunderstood, or - worst of all - overstepping a boundary.

“What?” Sam asked. “What is it, Gabe?”

Gabriel shook his head.

Sam sighed. “Okay. All right.”

“No, it’s … all I was gonna say is that …” Gabriel was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face. “Maybe it’s because you were the only one who really tried, the only one who really showed a lot of concern for this deflated ragdoll of an angel that somehow ended up in your custody like a doorstep newborn. Maybe it’s just something about you, I don’t know. Something you have that the others don’t. I’m not sure, Sam. All I know is I have this - this gut-based terror about losing you. Not necessarily because you’ll get sick of me, but because - because - see, I don’t know. I feel it when you hold me like you are right now; the idea of letting go scares me more than Asmodeus ever did.”

He was afraid to look up, but he did; and Gabriel was horrified to see that Sam’s eyes were glossy with tears.

Gabriel wrenched himself away. “Don’t, don’t do that! I’m not trying to make anyone more upset. It’s not anything you’re doing wrong. It’s not that you could be doing anything different, Sam; you’re better at handling me than anyone has any right or reason to be.”

“Well …” Sam closed his eyes, gathered his composure. “Right.”

“I’m putting so much pressure on you with those words, aren’t I?” Gabriel was shivering now. “I’m making you think you have to be perfect, that you have to be next to me a hundred percent of the time.”

Sam swallowed and shook his head. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I just wish you didn’t feel that way, is all. I wish you weren’t so … that he hadn’t made you feel like …”

“Right?” said Gabriel. “It’s hard to articulate, isn’t it? I can’t figure it out, and I don’t know what to do with it. Wanting the - needing to be taken care of the way I do lately, and needing it to be you, and being so scared to death that you might be there one second and gone the next. I don’t understand that feeling.

“There’s time to figure it out. Stop trying to force yourself to understand everything, Gabriel. You don’t have to, and it’ll probably come with time.” Sam looked flushed, but his eyes were dry now.

There was a sound from the hallway: a door opening, and small, tentative footsteps. They paused outside the door, and then moved on until neither Gabriel nor Sam could hear them.

“Jack came in and hugged me,” Gabriel told Sam.

“Oh. Sorry about that. I did say - ”

“No, it’s all right. I’m only bringing it up so you know you don’t have to warn him not to touch me. He can touch me. If he wants to.”

“What about what you want?”

“I … no, I just mean that maybe I’m not … not good for …” Gabriel gave a frustrated sigh, still speaking into Sam’s shoulder. “It’s fine.”

“I know you still worry about that.”

“About what?”

“I know that you worry about corrupting Jack.”

“I don’t know that I ever used the word ‘corrupt.’”

“But Gabriel, he cares about you. He looks up to you. And I know you think that’s a bad thing, but he likes you just the way you are now. He knows you’ve been through more than your fair share of trauma. He’s seen you when you’re not feeling your best. And he still wants to be around you. Listen, I’m not here to tell you what to do, but I really don’t think you should push him away.”

“I let him hug me! I’m not pushing him away. I’m trying to protect him.”

“But why? What good do you think is going to come of him seeing that you’re hurt, and walking away without any understanding of what’s going on? It’s better for him if he can learn how to help. Otherwise he’s going to feel like you don’t trust him.”

Gabriel froze. “Has … has he said that to you?”

“Not in so many words, no. He doesn’t always know how to articulate himself, or what’s frustrating him. You’re right: in a lot of ways, he’s just a kid. And I think instead of trying to stop him seeing you like this, you might teach him that wanting to help isn’t a bad thing. I just - I don’t want him to get the idea that he should try not to act the way he does. Loving you, caring about you. If you tell him no, if you keep trying to make him stay away from you when you most need somebody … he might get it into his head that he’s wrong to have those instincts.”

“Wait, what? What does that mean? So I’m - am I corrupting him by making it seem like it’s bad to be compassionate? That’s a whole new kind of crisis.”

“Not corrupting him. Just maybe sending a message that he finds confusing, since it goes against his nature.”

Gabriel considered this for a few moments.

Sam waited.

Then, finally Gabriel asked: “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. Back to the kitchen, maybe.”

“I guess I should talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

“You don’t have to. Not right now. Just let him in when he wants to give you what you need.”

“No, I - let me go find him.” Gabriel started to rise from the bed, but Sam gently pulled him back down.

“What?” Gabriel demanded. “You think I shouldn’t talk to him?”

“It’s not that,” Sam replied. “I just want to make sure you’re not mad at yourself.”

“Not any more than usual.”

“If you go to him and say you hate yourself for ‘corrupting’ him any which way, you’re both gonna miss my point.”

“Please,” Gabriel said. “I just - I really - will you please let me talk to him?”

Sam looked pained. “I’m not going to keep you from talking to him. It’s up to you. I just want to make sure you feel okay.”

Gabriel stood up again. “I never feel okay.”

“Why don’t I go get him for you?” Sam suggested.

“You can do that as long as you don’t give him a contract to sign about when it’s okay to touch me.” Gabriel wasn’t sure why this was such a sticking point for him, but Sam’s words about Jack’s natural character, and about his impulses to express affection, made it seem more logical.

“I’ll get him for you,” Sam repeated. “Gabriel - ”

“Please, Sam. Either you can grab the kid or I can, but I really want to talk to him.”

Sam nodded, studying him, making sure. Then he patted Gabriel on the shoulder and left the room.

Jack came in a couple of minutes later, looking nervous.

“Hey, bud,” said Gabriel.

Jack raised a hand in a silent, tentative greeting.

“Wanted to have a word. Sit?”

Jack sat beside him. “Am I in trouble?”

“Oh, please. You sound like your uncle.”

“Listen, if this is about me hugging you …”

“No, come on, kid; you didn’t do anything wrong.” Gabriel worried that Jack was picking up on some of his more neurotic interpersonal habits. “I wanted to thank you. And before you ask for what, you should know that you’re … you’re good, you’re a good bean; and I’m the one who isn’t doing what I should be. I’m not - Jack, I don’t mean to tell you to bug off when I know you only mean to help.”

“I know you think I’m too - ”

“I don’t think you’re too anything. I think I’m too - too me to let you get past a whole lot of nonsense. Look, I don’t wanna make this more complicated than it has to be; what I’m trying to say is that I’m not proud of myself for swatting at you like a fly when, in a perfect world, everybody would be like you.”

“Oh.” Jack looked down at his knees, thoughtful and perplexed.

“Don’t try to change yourself on account of my orneriness,” Gabriel clarified. “Be nice. Be good. Be you. You’ll just have to be patient with your stubborn old uncle. Sam can tell you that I’m difficult.”

Jack looked back up at him.

“Do you get what I’m saying?” Gabriel asked. “I don’t know how to explain it any more eloquently than that.”

Jack nodded. “I think I do.” Gabriel waited for him to explain the concept, to paraphrase what he had just been told; but Jack said nothing, and Gabriel could only assume that the message had gotten through.

Finally, Jack replied, “I’m sorry too.”

“No - kid - I’m trying to say you have nothing - ”

“I mean I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry you got hurt. That’s all.”

Gabriel clamped his lips shut. He could only nod.

Jack stared at him, studying him, reading him like a map.

Gabriel gave a hoarse laugh. “Is there something in my teeth?”

“Do you want me to go get Sam?” Jack asked.

“No.”

“You looked like - ”

“I always look like that. Anyway, Jack, I hope you understand - at least a teensy bit - what it is I’m trying to explain to you. I’m sorry that I can’t wrangle a single thought into words.”

“I think I understand.” Jack hesitated, then asked: “So how can I help? What can I do?”

“Ah, I don’t know; you’ve already been doing everything right. I’m the one who’s trying to fight you on it. So just … just keep doing what you’re doing.” It pained Gabriel to say it. He agreed with Sam, but he could hardly stomach the instant guilt that came with implicitly encouraging Jack to watch Gabriel struggle.

Jack smiled, and Gabriel thought he saw relief in his eyes. “Okay. Sure. Thanks.”

“Oh, please. Thank you.” Gabriel felt that he ought to try and touch Jack and was ashamed that he couldn’t bring himself to initiate contact.

Someday, he told himself.

Jack stood up to go. “I hope you feel better later.”

“I already do.”

“You look - ”

Gabriel held up a hand. “Again: I always look like that.”

Sam reentered immediately after Jack made his exit. He looked tense and wide-eyed and was evidently trying to conceal his agitation. “Hey.”

“I’m fine,” said Gabriel.

“Did it - ”

“Everyone’s fine, Sam.”

“Listen,” Sam said, stepping over to the bed, “I really didn’t mean to make you think you were doing something wrong.”

“Except that I was doing something wrong, and I’m old enough to learn from my mistakes, so don’t apologize for straightening me out.”

“I’m not trying to make you do anything. I’m not trying to put pressure on you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel sighed and closed his eyes. It seemed that those hours of sleep had been anything but restful. “If you don’t drag my attention to where it really belongs, nothing’s ever gonna get set right. I told you, there is a wrong way to do this. Sometimes I see it, and sometimes I don’t. And if you’re going to fight me on that, if you wanna say there’s no 'wrong' way, then how about this? There’s a better way.”

“Well, Jack looked calmer for sure. How about you? You feeling better?”

Gabriel considered, and then shook his head. The lopsidedness of an afternoon cleaved by turbulent slumber had left a stinging headache, and the nightmare had nested in the pit of his stomach, souring his whole body.

“Maybe you shouldn’t have used your grace on me,” Sam lamented. “Don’t try again for a while, okay?”

“It’s not that. I can feel that that’s not what’s wrong with me. It’s what I said to you earlier; it’s me being afraid of everything.”

Sam retook his place on the bed. Although there was no way to see outdoors, Gabriel could feel the afternoon darkening into evening. Neither of them spoke.

He was painfully aware that Sam felt familiar to him. Sam was safe; he wasn’t going to try and harm Gabriel. Somehow that knowledge made everything much more complicated - in part, Gabriel realized, because there seemed no way to explain the feeling without coming off as saccharine, puerile, or both.

Although he was no longer crying (however much he wanted to), Gabriel hoped Sam would touch him. He thought about asking and couldn’t bring himself to say a word.

After several minutes of complete silence, Gabriel spoke. “Did you fight back?”

Sam frowned. “What?”

“The hamster, the gerbil, whatever it was. Did you fight back, or was it too precious to hurt?”

“There wasn’t much I could do. It was vicious.”

“Was it? Or are you just tender-hearted?”

“Gabriel, you saw what it did to my hand.”

Gabriel glanced down at the hand that had been injured. “Yeah. I don’t know, I feel like maybe you didn’t want to hurt the little thing.”

Sam seemed amused. “Why would you say that?”

Gabriel reached out and took Sam’s hand. Sam seemed surprised, but held on firmly.

“Just because I know you,” Gabriel told him. “I know you too well.”

#supernatural #spn #fanfiction #sam winchester #gabriel #jack kline #sabriel #platonic #friendship #hurt/comfort #asmodeus #season 13 #gabriel lives #ptsd #pasf #post-asmodeus sabriel feels

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bansept · 4 years ago

Text

Sacrifice

SO, this is angst based on an episode from TVD, which I used to watch. I had in mind almost recreating an episode but then thought “nahhh” So at least I tried to innovate!

This is a one shot, so no updates after that because I love making people suffer, obviously.

Slight OOCness, because it’s a rather dark world.

TRIGGER WARNING : Major character death + mental issues that are camouflaged but not that much

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One does not decide their fate. You are born from your mother, grow and meet people, if fate is merciful, you meet the one you were created to love. You spend a lifetime with them, you learn how to love, how to care, how to live. You get to understand what it is like to choose for the first time. And, after a life worth of adventures, stories and feelings, you are put to rest.

Once upon a time Ichigo and Orihime believed in this reality. Believed that life could be harsh, but they would climb out of the pit of darkness to reach the sunlight, and enjoy it.

Like all days, it was sunny. In their minds, the vast grass filed in front of them was always illuminated, the light breeze always brought new and known scents to their noses, and they could feel whole again. They could feel the warmth of the Sun, the touch of the other on their hand. The whisper of the wind caressing their ears.

In their inner world, all was alright. All was safe and loving.

The exterior world was corrupted by uncaring people. It was dark and messy and cruel, nothing good could ever come out of it.

Especially people.

Their families had left, stolen away by the frightening death that loomed over each human being. From the father, whose childish behavior always pushed Ichigo out of his skin to the sisters and the brother that loved their sibling in the purest way possible. The sisters looked out for their brother, asking for his protection and his support. The brother watched over his sister, calming her when the world was latching onto her, pulling her out of the black waters of her mind.

But now, all this happiness they could vaguely remember had been taken away. Vanished, disappeared in thin air. Where did they go? Where were they all now? In the sky or in the dirt?

There were no such things as an answer.

“Let’s get going, Orihime.”

The rough voice brought another wide smile on her face. She felt his hand hold hers tenderly, and nodding her head, Orihime followed him docily, letting him lead the way, like he always did.

The world was upside down : debris of buildings here and there, some gigantic from a building or a skyscraper, others small enough to step on. Blocks of stones and piles of wood and iron littered the floor, waiting for more scavengers to dig in them, try to find what was essential to live.

But living was not possible anymore. Not after bombs were dropped on Japan. It was said it was that way all over the world, but no one could say for sure. Was it true the world was destroyed by a radioactive menace? Was it true that the peoples of the Earth were reduced to nothing but wandering all day long to survive for another day?

Orihime could never know. Her world was a golden field with a orange-haired man sitting next to her.

Ichigo talked to her. Explained what he saw, what he felt, what was happening aroudn them. Anything he knew Orihime would love, he described it to her, from a rare seagull to a tiny sprout on the ground, trying its hardest to get some energy. Many times, Ichigo would snark a remark, something along the lines of “it’s fighting to exist, just like us.”. Orihime could do nothing but hold his hand tighter.

For months now, they walked the day to stop at night, cuddling closer no matter the heat of the weather, holding the other close. Closing her eyes didn’t change a thing : she was still in the field with him. She was still watching his traits shift to something relaxed and she was still amazed by him.

Ichigo shifted closer to her, taking the light bag off her back to let her poor spine breathe a little.

“What are you thinking about?”

She smiled. What an obvious question.

“You.”

She heard him chuckle, the sound soft.

“Ah, even in this situation, you keep on saying that.”

Orihime felt his other hand on the top of her head, caressing the not so souple hair, pushing a few strands out of her face, not that it mattered anyway. She didn’t say anything, only placed her chin against his hand.

Even in this situation, where the world she couldn’t see anymore was destroyed, their families and friends dead, Orihime would still be strong enough to smile. If it was fate to live, and if things happened for a reason, then all the suferring of today would vanish tomorrow, and they would meet again in the golden fields.

When two people travel together in a hostile place, it has its advantages and its inconvenients.

The first being only worrying about one person. No time wasted thinking about a potential individual that got lost. And with Orihime not being able to walk two steps alone, it was easy to stick together. The food, found in a deserted cafeteria or an abandoned house, was also easy to share.

The second... Their number was low, and if they encountered any threat, it was hard to outrun it, or to fight it. Orihime was Ichigo’s number one priority. Always had, always will be. But that only pushed him deeper into the danger.

And it was during the night they would feel the weakest. Ichigo could stand watch, not Orihime. Orihime could sleep, not Ichigo.

When one dreamed of the same place with the same person, the other was haunted by the nightmares of the reality laid bare in front of him. Destroyed houses, rotting corpses, violence in each corner.

One does not decide their fate. They are born with protection in their names, and it is their way of life to live by it. It is not their choice what they see or what they think.

He can’t help but think he should travel alone, leave Orihime to a safer place and come back to her once in a while with what she needs.

But if thinking is not up to him, then feeling is.

He can’t bear it. The thought of letting her be alone. Without him. He aches the moment he thinks of leaving her. So he doesn’t.

He aches the moment he sees her white eyes focus on nothing but her last memory of him, of them, in the field near a barn they used to like.

He aches when he knows how much she must suffer from being stuck in one place.

But because he feels and because those feelings lead him, he keeps them going. In a way, he started to believe fate would be kind after it is cruel. Maybe they will get better soon.

Until he knows they won’t.

Scavengers, unknown men and women, hiding behind old rusted glasses and torn rags encounter them one day. Without any discussion, any word, they attack them, they push them to the ground to rob them. Ichigo wants to fight, but Orihime grabs his hand, his arm, his body to have him close.

The golden fields in her head are starting to burn.

The foreigners attach them far away from each other. Ichigo is near an old electric pole, tied smartly, no chances of him getting out without getting injuried. Orihime on her side, she is told to sit near the fire, because what can a blind girl do? She can’t run, she can’t escape, she can’t help.

The golden fields in her head are burning now.

Ichigo watches her cry, clear tears coming out of foggy eyes, her head tilted to the sky, not daring to speak. And he sense she’s lossing it.

Not because they are seperated by a few meters. Not because he’s not holding her hand. Because she, who couldn’t see the world, couldn’t perceive how evil it had turned, encoutered it by herself. And the only safe place, physically and mentally, was getting ripped away from her.

Ichigo tried to fight his bounds. He tried to have this tiny shape of light and hope in his mind, that the day he would have fate on his side was here. That he could free himself, and her, and go back home.

It lasted for hours. Her crying, his pulling. Both were silent, one to not bring attention, the other too shocked and petrified to move.

Maybe it was luck, maybe it was fate, but they managed to get out. Ichigo shuffled his hands out of the ropes, pretending to sleep as a guard looked down on him. He turned around and the orange-haired man stood up abruptly to wrap an arm around his neck, suffocating him enough to make the lad fall unconcsious on the ground.

But there was nothing he could now.

The fire of reality and fate had burned the golden fields.

There was no Sun. No wind. No gentleness, no caress. The orange wasn’t just a mass of hair next to her anymore. It was all she could feel, from the sky to the clouds. The ground was dark and bloody, the piece only shrinking into chaos.

She couldn’t walk anymore. She couldn’t run, or hide, or talk or anything! All was gone! All she hoped, all she yearned, all she saw was gone!

Even the hand on her arm, the same as always, the same touch and same pressure on her skin, it was different, and it was bad.

Everything hurt. Nothing was bearable anymore.

“Orihime, please... We gotta go now, or they’ll get to us...”

“I don’t want to move.”

He stopped pulling her arm, instead cupping her face. She couldn’t feel his eyes on her own. All was gone.

“What? Hime, come on, now is not the best time...”

“Why... Why are we doing this?”

Ichigo didn’t answer, nor did he asked what she was talking about. He only hissed an insult. Orihime’s void eyes blinked, and she waved her hands to him, messily touching his sides. It was wet.

“I don’t want... I can’t have this anymore! I can’t get going like this! And neither can you, Ichigo... So please... Let’s go home.”

Her hand pushed against the fabric of his vest in a relfex to stop the bleeding he had gotten from the guard. She had heard some fighting by Ichigo’s side, but he had assured her he was fine.

Liar.

“Orihime...”

“Don’t tell me can’t!” Tears kept spilling, getting in her mouth, on the side of her nose, dropping on the floor. “I’m tired, tired of doing all this! I’m tired of suffering everyday, of knowing you suffer too! What kind of life could we have here! Huh? Nothing!”

“... I know.”

“I just want to be home... Just want to feel the sun on my face again...”

A little click was heard, and Orihime closed her eyes, lips curling into a smile. Ichigo breathed out, voice shaking but calm and determined.

“... We’re going back home. To Sora, to Yuzu and Karin. To my father and mother.”

Ichigo pulled them close, sliding a cold and hard gun in Orihime’s hand, their foreheads brought together to feel warmth.

“I can’t wait to meet them... And so that I can talk to Sora about you. He’ll be glad.”

“I’m nervous... I hope he’ll like me.”

The two chuckled, and Orihime leaned closer to gently kiss him on the lips.

“He will.”

Once upon a time Ichigo and Orihime believed in this reality. Believed that life could be harsh, but they would climb out of the pit of darkness to reach the sunlight, and enjoy it.

They were not always surrounded by light. They were not always surrounded by warmth.

They knew they wouldn’t be in the sky or in the ground.

They knew where their place was.

They knew where the sunlight was, the same place they would feel warmth, always.

There were two loud bangs. One soft thud, as their bodies fell together.

Then laughter, the golden fields perfect again, with the new Sun, the new wind, the new caresses, and the joy of meeting new faces.

Now, and forever, they were put to rest, and fate would never be cruel again.

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

I’m not certain that people will like it, since I wrote that in an hour and with a loud loud mind.

I hope you guys do not hate me too much haha

#bleach #ichihime #ichihime fanfiction #ichihime writing #ichihime headcanon #ichigo x orihime #ichigo kurosaki #orihime inoue #ichihime AU #ichihime angst #angst #post apocalyptic #potentially triggering #it's not too much #i think i could do worst #but that will be enough for now #will review the errors later

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years ago

Text

Close Friends - pt. 11

A/N: It’s not over yet but like.... how did I do?

June.

June finally came, it was rough in the beginning with the final few exams but enjoyable towards the end.

For you, all those months on focusing on the exams was a bliss becasue if you were stressed enough for pieces of papers deciding your future, you weren’t thinking about the four boys you used to call friends.

They’ve been great contemplating months of long nights of crying and sobbing. You saw them everywhere. You saw them in the Great Hall, classess, corridors, Hogsmeade, everywhere really and it was hard at first but there was something about them- something that changed. Whether they got closer since your last encounter with them or they’ve matured.

You haven’t been talking to neither of them. There were some nodds and smiles whenever some of you passed, Sirius more guilty, always looking away but you managed to actually forgive him.

You couldn’t understand how you could. Usually, you would have hold on to a grudge and never forgive him for hitting you. Some days, you could see him staring in class and it was as if he was screaming appologies at you with his eyes.

Knowing Sirius for years, he wouldn’t do what he did if he wasn’t truly hurt. He was in love with you and you knew that. He was in love with you and you basically told him you were in love with his best friends. That they were perfect for you. Not him, who had tried months to speak those words- those three words that seemed so heavy on his heart and who would genuenly love you with everything he has got. You knew Sirius. You knew how intensly he could feel his emotions, whether that was love or hurt. If he loved you, he loved you with every single atom in his body and if he hurt- he definetly hurt until he fell into the depths of darkness.

You knew him so well, so goddamn well that you felt his emotions through all those days. Whenever he was happy and you didn’t see it, you felt happy. Whenever he was in his deepest of refrets, you cried those nights. Whenever he looked at you, you could feel the guilt he felt. It was as if the two of you were connected in such a deep level it felt impossible to think that maybe, just maybe he was right. You two-

“You coming?!” your roomate ran across the room with her bathing suit on, smiling and tying her hair.

She interrupted your train of thoughts but you smiled anyway. Today was a nice sunny day at the lake. Everybody will be there. You put on your dress and your flip flops, grabbed the towel and glasses and shouted back. “It’s you who we’re waiting, Fran.”

She popped her head out of the warderobe and smiled. “I just don’t have anything to wear!”

“You’ll be in your swimsuit anyway- just throw something on and lets go!” you rushed her and she quickly put her shorts and T-shirt over.

“Yeah, you’re right. I really don’t give a damn of how I look.” she laughed, grabbed her bag and started running after you.

---

It was rare to be hot in Britian but when it was, you wanted to enjoy the heat and the sun burning your skin.

It was such a nice summer day. There was music coming from the stereos and students talking, laughing, some of them even playing volleyball and you? You were sun tanning. At times you pulled yourself up on your elbows and looked around, specifically on the group of boys at the other side of the lake.

All shirtless, including Remus who finally showed his pecks you didn’t know existed. James had his body lines and muscles nicely toned, including the V-line that followed to his trunks. He and Sirius were joking around, playfully fighting and pushing each other in the water. You could hear Sirius bark-like laugh from all over there and it plastered a nostalgic smile on your lips.

You and him used to laugh together all the way. He wasn’t that nicely rippd as the other two but his shape was nicely fit and for some reason you couldn’t look away.

And then- then the most perfect thing happened.

‘ You and Sirius were studying for your final exams in your 5th year. He kept groaning and whining as he kept re-reading the same line for the past 5 minutes.

“Come on, Black. Just one more exam.” you said as you flipped the page.

“No.” He jumped on his feet and walked to his stereo, turning on the radio and surfing through the stations for some music.

‘I’m begging! - the song started and Sirius couldn’t help himself but smile so brightly, jumping on his feet and clapping

“Sirius no!” you laughed at his funky dance moves

‘ Beggin', beggin' you Put your loving hand out baby ‘ - he put his hand on his heart and started walking towards you, pulling you up.

“Come on, baby. Put your loving hand out dar-darling!”

‘ Riding high, when I was king Played it hard and fast, cause I had everything!’ - he continued to sing outloud and to your surprise he had a nice voice.

He interwined his fingers with yours and pulled you close, both dancing and laughing as the song continued.’

The two of you made so many dance moves to this song that day and when you heard the same intro, your eyes locked with his so fast until James hand pushed Sirius face back into the water.

You let out a giggle as he came back out, confused and his hair all over his face. He pushed James back and slicked back his wet hair, lookign back at you, smiling and singing along the lyrcs.

‘ Walked away, won me then But easy come and easy go And it would end-’

He could see the giggles coming from all that distance, so with a leap of his heart, he jumped out of the water and started to make his way to you.

Running before the next few lines of the song could come, you stood up as well and just let it play out.

‘ So why anytime I bleed, you let me go Anytime I feed you get me know Anytime I see you let me know But, I plan and see just let me goI'm on my knees when I'm (beggin'g) Cause I don't want to lose (you) -’

He was now close to you, dripping from water and panting from the run and watching you with apologetic eyes. Opening his arms he continued. “ I got my arms on spread And I hope that my heart gets fed, matter of fact girl I'm beggin'.”

You stayed quiet for the chorus, letting him watch your reaction and letting his smile falter. He bit his lips, completely embarrased from what he did but it was after the chorus, that you grabbed his hand and started singing.

“ I need you, (yeah) to understand Tried so hard To be your man The kind of man you want in the end Only then can I begin to live again.” you pressed yourself on his chest, feelign your heart flutter on his touch and smiling so wide your cheeks started to hurt.

Happy as a man could be, Sirius spun you around until you were back to his chest, his hand on your hip just for a few moments before he spun you away and continued to sing the next part.

‘ An empty shell I used to be Shadow of my life Was hangin' over meA broken man That I don't know Won't even stand the devils dance To win my soul ‘

You laughed and he did as well because all this song was planned for when the two of you were 15, singing it back in his room during studying. Whenever it came on the radio, the two of you would sing out your part, no matter how awful your voices sounded.

‘ Why we chewing, why we chasing Why the bottom, why the basement Why we got good shit don't embrace it Why the feel for the need to replace me ‘ - both of you sang together, throwing your hands and jumping just as you did 3 years ago, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close as you wrapped your arms around him as well, swinging on both of your feet.

The song continued to play but the two of you continued to stay in each other’s arms, his cold and wet body against your heated one. Overjoyed as he was, he let his nose dig into the crook of your neck, smelling the shampoo he was so obsessed with but this time it was a fresh scent of watermelon.

He pulled away and cupped your cheeks. “Watermelon?”

You laughed at his obsession with your shampoos and nodded. “Yeah. Nice fragmence.” you shrugged and grabbed your towel, turning to your friends. “I’m going to the other side for a while- that’s alright?” you asked as Fran put up her glasses and checked Sirius from head to toe, grinning.

“Honey, as long as I can come with you? Might introducing me to the tall one?” all the two of you turned to the guy she was pointing.

“Moony?” Sirius smiled.

“Remus?” you looked at her and gave her a wink. “Sure.” you said without feeling any kind of jealousy feeling inside of you as you thought you would.

Fran got up and grabbed her stuff as well, following the two of you. You let Sirius go a bit further so you could lean to Fran and whisper in her ear. “The abs one.” you smiled and she turned, smiling cheekely as well.

“Yeah?”

“Fantastic kisser.” you said, pulling down your glasses and running to Sirius side.

---

There wasn’t a sconf of an awkward moment between the group when you and Fran came. James had his eyes narrowed at the two of you meanwhile Remus kept smirking at the sun, just knowing he was right. Right about you and Sirius, right about how everything would turn out anyway and right in general. It brought him some sort of pleasure but if he was honest with himself, he truly wished that he wasn’t right for this.

“Took you long enough.” James beamed, giving you a long hug and squeezing you tightly. “Thought we’d have to- you know?” you could feel his arm muscles tighten as he lifted you and started carrying towards the lake.

“James- James! James don’t you fuckign dare! James!” you continued to try get out of his grip when he threw both of the two of you into the cold water.

You felt your whole heated, sunburnt body get washed by the coldness of the water, James arms wrapping around your stomach and pulling you out with him into the surface, laughing. “Welcome back ,Twizzlers.”

“YOU TWAT!” you splashed and kicked him underwater as he pulled you back and took a hold of your head.

“Take a deep breath baby.” he said and you could feel yourself panic a bit as he dunked your under again.

You swam around him and tried to do the same but he kept his arms fighting yours and he dunked you again until Sirius jumped in, screaming.

“CANON BALL!” he shouted as he splashed next to the two of you, dunking James head under water and smiling at you as he held him under. “He gets cocky if he always wins.” he winked at you with a smile as you laughed.

“Makes two of you.”

---

When the evening started to approach and only a few more people stayed, mostly Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.

Sirius continued to watch you from his spot. Since you sat down on the pier and dipped your into the lake, swinging them back and forth.

Nobody could really know what Sirius was thinking but both of the one boy had a a close idea of what he might be thinking. Remus and Fran were both gone somewhere and James was just about to leave. He couldn’t yet. Not until Sirius was next to you.

“You know- you’ve waited for years to tell her how you feel, if you continue to do so, it’s going to turn worse than before.” he told him, standing up and grabbing his towel before leaving him.

When he turned around, he could see Sirius standing up and slowly making his way to you. Pleased with himself, he left the two of you alone.

Sirius stopped a few feet behind you. He could feel his heart throbbing inside of him but at the same time, the calm lake and the following clouds on the sky that you observed so distinctively let the throb fade.

You could feel him when he sat down next to you. His eyes watchign forward, his legs swinging gently from the dock. It was only a couple of moments when his eyes averted from the sky to you. He was observing- observing the burns on your nose and cheeks- the sticky tuft of your hair that was pulled up into a bun but some falling down because of the weak rubber-band.

You looked at him as well, your eyes in this perfect doting join.

“A day doesn’t go by I don’t think of what I did to you. You and the other three that day. “ he started and you sighed, trying to interrupt him.

“Sirius-”

“No, just let me say this.” he said, looking away for a moment before locking his eyes with yours. “I knew it was you. I knew it was you when you called out my name and tried to pull me away. I knew- at first I thought that it was Peter because that could have been excuse that I didn’t mean it but I was so hurt- so hurt when Remus told me that you and him-” he stopped, looking away and clearing his throat. “Uhm...I knew it was you but I was so angry- I was SO angry at you, at the world, at this stupid destiny where you don’t love me like I want you to love me. I punished you for it. I hit you because I had noone else to hit but you have to believe me, (y/n), I regretted it right after. I wouldn’t do that to you- I wouldn’t but I did and I think I’ll probably regret it till the day that I die.” his eyes started to tear up but you quickly took his hand and brought it to your cheek.

“When we started hanging out, I was in love with you. I was so in love with how you could make me feel at times, you know but I didn’t want to be one of those girls and I wanted to prove that to you. I wanted to prove to you I could be more to you than those girls- and then you started flirting with other girls and I was relieved because then we could still be friends and not have it complicated.” you smiled and saw his eyes falling out of his head when you said you were in love with him. “James was funny. He was and I knew since I couldn’t have you, I can have him because you never liked me the way I liked you, so I just stopped liking you and you didn’t mind me flirting with James so I thought that was it.”

“And then 5th year happened and I realized I was in love with you. I tried to bury it. I really did because you were my best friend but then a thought kept repeating itself in my head, saying that being in love with my best friend isn’t really a bad idea, is it.”

“Well I didn’t realize you did fancy me back until 7th year-”

“The bracelet?” he asked and you laughed.

“I thought it was just a token of your love for me but months after you not dating anybody but hover around me kind of made me think.”

“Every day before I went to see you I tried to repeat what I wanted to say. Then you kissed James and I was so mad- so mad your first kiss was with James and not me. Because you can’t ever forget your first kiss-”

“You and Jill?”

“Yeah-” he laughed, reminiscing back. “Still, all I could think about was what you said about soulmates and first kisses, you know? I guess if I kissed you first, you’d think I was your soulmate- or something- I don’t know.” he tried to laugh it off, knowing it was probably a stupid thing to say... but it was true and he promised himself to tell you everything. “And then Remus- and Remus is an excellent kisser, better than James-”

“What?” you cut in, watching him with shock. “You kissed-”

“Everybody kisses their friends at least once.” he shrugged. “Except us appereantly.” he leaned and wiggled his eyebrows meanwhile you scoffed and pushed him back.

“In your dreams, Black.” you laughed and he leaned back on his arms, swinging his legs.

“Worth a try.” he smiled.

“I promised myself I won’t get involved with you four anymore.” you said. “Since the whole Remus fiasco- we didn’t... I mean, when you said if we... if we slept together. We didn’t.”

He turned his head to you, watching your whole face features as he simpered. “I know. Remus explained the whole deal.” he then narrowed his eyes at you and continued. “You got Remus drunk. James and I have been trying to get him drunk for years.”

“Well, you and James are clearly not a woman.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” he laughed.

“Let’s say you were at a party- and that you weren’t an alcoholic that you were- a girl approaches you and offers you a drink. Would you take it?”

“Yes.”

“And if your friends who were always so clearly drunk and irresponsible offered you a drink, would you take it?”

“Is that an insult?”

“Sirius...”

“I get your point.” he brushed his hand in defeat, looking back at the sight in front of you.

You followed his eyes and let the silence take over.

“So what now?” he asked. “What are we?”

“Are you still in love with me?” you asked him as he kept quiet, putting up his hand and for the first time since he sat down, you noticed the bracelet he wore- your bracelet.

He twisted it around his wrist and smiled at it. “I’d like to think so, yes.” he smiled at you. “Are you in love with me?” he asked, watching your eyes so focused on the bracelet.

Smiling, he took it off his hand and offered to put it on you.

“It was always meant to be yours.” he said and you put up your hand, feeling your heart tighten in your chest. “If you still want it?”

“I do.” you nodded, feeling your eyes water but you quickly dried them off.

He put the bracelet back on your wrist and later pulled out the long chain from his trunks’ pocket.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. He kept it.

He put the chain around his neck and clasped it together, bringing the silver in to the front. “I kept it and I never told anybody where I got it.” he kept the ring in his hands before letting it hang around his neck, looking at you. “So...” he said and you looked up at his eyes. “Are you in love with me still?”

He was prepared. His whole body was prepared, tense, veins beating in sync with his heart.

“Maybe.” you said, smiling.

“Maybe?” he asked, smiling. “Is that a yes? A no?”

“It’s a maybe.” you continued to smile, though you knew the exact answer to his question, you just didn’t want to let him know it yet.

“Than if it’s a maybe, I’ll wait.” he stood up and offered you a hand. “Whatever the real answer is-” he pulled you up until the two of you were chest to chest. “-I’ll still want you to be in my life. Friends or not. I could live with us being just friends but I could never live without you being a part of my life.” he said, pulling you into a hug and holding you, knowing what he said was the truth and knowing excatly that besides that one regret, he wouldn’t have any more of them.

#sirius black imagine #sirius x reader #Sirius Black #james potter imagine #james potter x reader #james potter imagines #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #Remus Lupin

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