#that's such a dramatic longest tag goddamn | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 249: Todoroki Taco Night

Previously on BnHA: Nothing happened at all, because the manga was on break last week! Fortunately the anime had finally resumed after a billion years (estimation; exact length of time may be slightly off), so we had that to take the edge off in the meantime. Except we didn’t, because the anime also ended up going on break due to a rugby game or some shit. So that was nice. On a related note, when I die I’d like the Basement arc to lower me into my grave, so it can let me down one last time.

Anyway, Endeavor did some mentoring and gave Shouto and Kacchan a power-up assignment and told Deku to work on Air Force to help him master the fine control he needs for the Bloop. Then Fuyu called a week later and was all “HEY DAD, DINNER, OUR PLACE, TONIGHT, BRING THE KIDS.” And then as previously mentioned, we waited two whole fucking weeks and MY GOD, my body is ready, on to the new chapter we go!

Today on BnHA: Shouto, Katsuki, and Deku are cordially invited to Todosmith Farms for an evening of food and fun! They make it approximately six minutes into dinner before Natsu loses it and exits with more theatrics than a spurned reality TV show contestant. Baku and Deku spend the next hour being all “!!!” at each other back and forth, and whispering about how fucking dramatic the Todorokis are, which fully kills me and is my favorite thing ever to happen in the world. Deku then begins to guide Shouto through his personal healing process like fucking Mufasa booming at Simba from the heavens, and meanwhile Endeavor listens in while quietly kneeling before HIS DEAD SON’S PHOTOGRAPH, IN THE SHRINE THEY BUILT FOR SAID DEAD SON IN HIS BEDROOM, and sorrowfully wishing he could do more for his family. Anyways so I’m in ruins now, but otherwise fine. How are you?

(All comments are my unspoiled reactions from my initial readthrough of the chapter. I did a quick edit for grammar and clarity afterward, and added a few ETAs in the process, but aside from that there are no changes.)

well it’s Thursday morning, and I have just seen the picture of baby white-haired Touya because no one in this fandom knows how to fucking spoiler tag (and that’s on me too for browsing the BnHA tag on a Thursday; I know better, but I was just curious how this new group chat thing was working out), so here are my immediate thoughts

we never actually confirmed that the hair color correlates to their powers, huh. we just assumed. but come to think, there’s no reason why someone couldn’t have mom’s hair but dad’s quirk. it’s all Shouto’s fault for being a perfect 50/50 split and thus making everyone assume that THAT’S JUST HOW IT WORKS. damn you Shouto and your dramatic character design

anyways I tried not to look at the pic for too long -- once I realized what I was looking at, I averted my eyes -- but he does look like Dabi, I think. oh shit guys. it’s really fucking happening

and I also didn’t get a good enough look to determine whether this was a photo of Touya (that Deku or whoever happened to spot while visiting the Todochester Mystery House for the much-hyped dinner) or a flashback image (in which he is just standing really fucking still for some reason and staring directly at the camera), so I guess we’ll see. but anyways, Deku and Kacchan didn’t come all the way down to Todoroki taco night to not have their evening peppered with intricate family drama and reopened wounds and hysterical conspiracy theories, so you had better keep them goddamn entertained! lord knows the Todorokis don’t do small talk. this is literally their only way of spicing things up so their guests don’t die of sheer awkwardness while Endeavor sits in stony silence and Shouto just stuffs his face with soba all night

also aren’t we due some popularity poll results soon? just getting in all my random thoughts now before we dive in. anyways Horikoshi, so you know what I want to see now and you better deliver

aaaand now it’s Friday! so Happy Birthday Aizawa, and LET’S GET TO THAT CHAPTER

and we’re opening with Endeavor’s Redemption Arc: The Page. omg

holy fucking shit BnHA. you sure do have a way of making me wait WITH BATED BREATH!! FOR TWO WEEKS!!! ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT!!!! for the new fucking chapter only to have me immediately suck in a deep breath through my teeth and seriously reconsider whether I am in any way emotionally prepared to handle this. “you think you know what you want?!” Horikoshi demands. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA.” sob it’s trueeee

okay. okay. we can do this. hell, if we made it through Tomura’s flashbacks then this should be child’s play. so all right, let’s go

-- oh wait, but before I click to the next page, I just want to note that Endeavor isn’t the only one who’s nowhere to be found in this pic, though! boy you have three sons. uno dos tres

“the hellish Todoroki residence” lmao this legitimately sounds like the title of a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode

ARE YOU TELLING ME ENDEAVOR PROVIDES LUXURY APARTMENTS FOR ALL HIS FUCKING EMPLOYEES OMFG

SO MY THREE SONS HAVE ALL BEEN ROOMING TOGETHER UNDER ENDEAVOR’S ROOF!? THE FANFIC ENDEAVOR AGENCY RESIDENCES?! WHAT KIND OF OT3 SHENANIGANS HAVE BEEN ABOUNDING THIS PAST WEEK OH MY GOODNESS THIS IS LIKE A DREAM

OH MY GOD

okay I have like... ten different notes I want to make about Katsuki and I don’t know where to start SO I’LL JUST START SOMEWHERE!

I’ve legit wanted to see how he would look with his mask pushed up into his hair like a headband for the longest fucking time (I don’t know why! I just wanted to see it!) so this. is. Christmas for me omg. if only he wasn’t making one of his (◣д◢) faces and was instead making a normal face. but that’s probably too much to ask of him at THE CRACK OF DAWN, which brings me to my next point,

I thought he was a morning person?? [furiously checking headcanon notes] kid you go to bed at 8pm. you have your full eight hours by four in the fucking morning. and the full nine and a half hours that GROWING BOYS ACTUALLY NEED by 5:30am, which is when I always assumed you typically woke up in order to get in your morning workout and BEAST IT UP IN THE PIT or whatever gym people do. yet here you are, half dead, while Deku and Burnin’ are raring to go. were you just burning the midnight oil and that’s why you’re grumpy? WAS IT THE FANFIC AGENCY RESIDENCES SHENANIGANS, OH MY GOD I CAN’T

lastly, look at that unzipped collar. why is it that the more disheveled he looks the more I want to pile him up in a headlock and give him noogies. I love him so fucking much, this is ridiculous, he was only gone for two weeks but it felt like SEVENTEEN YEARS anyway

so Burnin’ is all “catch any villains faster than Endeavor yet, LOL, LIKE THAT COULD EVER HAPPEN!!” and they’ve been putting up with this trolling for a fucking week now huh. no wonder Katsuki’s ready to pack it in and sleep for the next year

motherfucker holy shit

sure thing coach. Todoroki Shouto out here ready for the morning huddle. BRING IT IN! ONE TWO THREE PLUS ULTRA

meanwhile Katsuki better keep his hair like that for the rest of the arc now. the collar too. I am living for this

what is Shouto doing with his hands

are you blowing a kiss. or beckoning toward her like Neo in the Matrix. are you channeling your inner Iida. wtf is this

this one panel perfectly encapsulates everything I love about this OT3 dynamic oh my god

Katsuki screaming at Todoroki that he’s better than him (based on impeccable, flawless logic). Shouto completely disregarding this and calmly continuing to have a normal conversation at a normal person volume. and Deku ignoring them both while sending the chipperest, most positive energy in the world out toward this other person because he loves everyone!!

and now there’s three closeups of the boys showing how worn out they are

they’ve been working so hard I’m so proud of them and also they totally deserve a night off to go gorge themselves on soba at Toderly Manor

and then there’s a whole nother page continuing to establish that it has been a week! and they’re working hard! and YES, WE KNOW, though

yep yep yep we get it now WHAT ABOUT THAT DINNER oh my god. it’s been four pages! and if we’re only getting thirteen again then this is precious real estate we’re just wasting here, come onnnnn

so Endeavor is continuing to show off how great he is while the kids look on in frustration

heh but I like this panel because LOOK AT THEM

ALL THREE OF THEM CAN FLY (basically). I love it. yes. just let them be airborne for the rest of the series

meanwhile Endeavor’s thinking agitated thoughts about how Fuyu wants him to try and CONNECT TO THE CHILDREN ON AN ACTUAL EMOTIONAL LEVEL, like what do you think he is?? a human being??!

lol he’s got that look like “WHY DON’T YOU JUST KILL ME NOW AND BE DONE WITH IT.” things he would rather do than have a family dinner with his kids and his two new apprentices: literally. anything. else. ah, but Endeavor. no one said the path of Not Being A Bastard would be easy

he’s thinking about how happy Fuyu sounded on the phone, though. “the thought of us finally becoming a real family...” c’mon Enji you can’t just let your only daughter down like that

and also me. you better not fucking let me down. I was promised dinner at Todoton Abbey and DAMN IT THIS IS HAPPENING

lol he’s getting all fired up and the kids are just mindlessly yelling back like “FUCK YEAH”

even the guy in the background’s like “YEAHHHHHHH LET’S DO ITTT.” the best part is how not a single one of them has any clue what they are loudly agreeing to

OH MY GOD

TODOLAND RANCH, AT LONG LAST. YESSSSS

lmao Kacchan

“it’s not too late!” he is so desperate, bless him. all he wanted was to curl up in his room with a bowl of spicy ramen after a long day and watch old All Might clips on Youtube while blissfully not interacting with a single other soul. and now instead they’ve dragged him to fucking Todo-a-Lago for dinner with his boss, his two best friends who he hates, and SOMEONE’S SISTER. what a nightmare

FUYUMIIIIII

worst part is, I don’t think Kacchan will be able to resist Fuyu’s Kind Elementary School Teacher Energy at all. he’s totally screwed. -- OH MY GOD, IS HE HIDING

like, I know this is the Todoroki drama chapter and that’s where my focus should be, and I’M SORRY, but you guys all know what you signed up for by this point, right? you can read a million other Todo hot takes on tumblr today, but this will forever be the blog that spends paragraphs and paragraphs obsessing over Kacchan hiding behind the door frame and sulking and asking “why though?” in increasingly petulant tones like a four-year-old because SOMEONE DRAGGED HIM TO A SOCIAL EVENT and this is his personal hell! Fuyu’s gonna end up having to manually feed him chicken like Satou did at the party

meanwhile now that I’m actually READING THE REST OF THE PANEL LIKE A NORMAL PERSON, I have to pause for a moment to let my heart break over Deku saying that he hardly ever gets invited over by friends. hey Deku come here for a moment, I just have to give you a dozen hugs real quick and then you can continue as you were

anyway so guys I literally owe Todoroki Fuyumi my life and I want to send her flowers with a “THANKS FOR SAVING THE MANGA” card but it’ll have to wait until the chapter is done. let’s continue

NATSU’S HERE TOO, SHOUTO SAW HIS SHOES, OH M Y GO D

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

(ETA: shout out to Natsu for wearing the greatest shirt of all time and taking Deku’s rookie-tier gags to THE NEXT LEVEL!)

I LOVE EVERYTHING. I’M SOBBING. BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI. LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!

holy shit Deku

Alton fucking Brown over here. chill my dude

NATSU BRINGING THAT DRAMA YESSSS

and look how oblivious Deku is to the general vibe settling in here

what the fuck do you see. you just literally had no idea how else to respond to that, huh

oh my god oh my fucking god

(ETA: I’m laughing so hard and I’ll explain in the tags. sob.)

guys let me just break down these two panels for you

1. Fuyu is all “NATSU YOU COOKED TOO”

2. Shouto is all “WTF, I ATE NATSU FOOD AND NO ONE FUCKING TOLD ME”

3. Natsu is all “YOU PROBABLY DIDN’T BECAUSE... THAT MAN PROBABLY WOULDN’T ALLOW IT”

how the fuck is there drama brewing over the fucking cooking. this fucking family. and Shouto’s face is two seconds away from being my new icon omg

LMAO

SO YOU TWO FINALLY FUCKING CONNED ON TO THE DANGEROUS SITUATION YOU’VE FOUND YOURSELVES IN, HUH. that’s right bitches. welcome to Todo’s Landing

and now Fuyu has finally made a FATAL ERROR IN JUDGEMENT oh no. that error being trying to fall back on Shouto of all people to ease the awkward tension. that boy literally is made up of awkward tension. right down to his atoms. Fuyu what were you thinking??

FUYUMI: [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] “SHOUTO WHAT KIND OF FOOD DO YOU EAT AT SCHOOL!!!!”

SHOUTO: [LEAPING TO HIS FEET] “AT THE CAFETERIA!!!!”

someone help me I’m fucking dying. actually, you know what, help them

“yo Deku, do you wanna get the fuck out of here right now.” “yes, yes I do.” turns out, they didn’t really need that internship anyway. maybe they can still convince the centipede man to take them instead

holy shit

like, I feel so bad for him, but also Fuyu looks so fucking sad and I can’t?? this is too much, and things haven’t even gotten spicy yet. this arc is going to leave me a wreck

DSFKSLDFJLK

“it’s okay,” Horikoshi says comfortingly, “here’s a panel of your two good boys helping clean up.” WELL THANK YOU, EXCUSE ME FOR A MOMENT, I’M GOING TO GO SIT. and think about Katsuki being a fucking gentleman whose momma raised him right and who helps clean up the dishes after being invited over for dinner. never mind that he didn’t even help clean up the Christmas party. but he saw Fuyu being sad and immediately went MY GOD, I’VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING TO HELP THIS STUPIDLY NICE LADY

anyway so are you two going to ask Endeavor why his kids hate him so fucking much. or just ignore it because you pretty much know the gist already because Shouto can’t keep a lid closed on anything

OH MY GOD THEY’RE HAVING A SECRET CONVERSATION ABOUT IT

FFFFFFFdfsLK -- “YOU GUYS WERE TALKING ABOUT IT RIGHT NEXT TO ME, ON ACCOUNT OF I WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE, IN THE SHADOWS, BECAUSE I WAS EAVESDROPPING, SHUT UP”

anyways so did you guys know that Deku and Kacchan having whispered conversations about how dramatic the fucking Todorokis are is my all-time aesthetic. I didn’t know either actually. but it is

Fuyu why are you apologizing to Shouto for making him help clean up

AND WHY ARE YOU PERSISTING IN MAKING THAT FACE. SON OF A BITCH. GIRL I’M BRINGING YOU SOME ICE CREAM AND SOME DVDS. WE’RE GONNA HAVE A SLEEPOVER AND FORGET ALL ABOUT THIS SHIT. PLEASE FEEL BETTER. I’M SORRY YOUR TWIN BROTHER IS DEAD AND YOUR WISH TO HAVE A NORMAL FAMILY IS NEVER GOING TO FUCKING COME TRUE BECAUSE WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS OMG

oh my god she’s having a heart to heart with Shouto about how he feels about Endeavor. oh my god I see Horikoshi aiming a bow right at my fucking heart. he’s notching the fucking arrow, this is it, it’s been real you guys

that look in his one visible eye. god. there it is. oh god. hurts

(ETA: do you suppose all of the Todorokis have secretly had that exact same dream. we know Fuyu has, and Rei as well based on her letter. I’m starting to think that Shouto has too. it only makes sense that a boy who was denied a real childhood for the first fifteen years of his life is going to have some part of him that secretly longs to just have a normal family. in related news, Shouto had better get some fucking hugs in this arc!)

-- ARE YOU SERIOUS

WHAT IS IT WITH HORIKOSHI LATELY AND BEING DONE WITH JUST IMPLYING THINGS AND NOW VERY INTO SHOWING THEM IN EXPLICIT HORRIFYING DETAIL. HERE’S A DEAD DOG! HERE’S A DYING CHILD! HERE’S A SIX-YEAR-OLD WHOSE MOM JUST POURED SCALDING WATER ON HIS FUCKING FACE AND SHE DIDN’T MEAN TO BUT IT’S TOO LATE AND NOW THEY’RE BOTH TRAUMATIZED. AND SHE’S USING HER QUIRK TO HEAL HIM AND HELLO, THIS ONE PANEL IS ABOUT TO MAKE ME START CRYING. KATSUKI YOU WERE RIGHT. WHY, THOUGH

(ETA: yeah this does not bode well for an upcoming flashback in which a child was presumably burned the fuck alive. feels like Horikoshi was testing the waters to see how much he could get away with. we may be in for some brutal shit pretty shortly.)

OH MY GOD A LETTER

they’re going to discharge her soon!?? IMMINENT FEELINGS INBOUND. I HAVE NO MORE SPACE TO PUT THEM!! MY HOUSE IS PACKED WITH FUCKING FEELINGS ALREADY, PLEASE

ahhhh he says he doesn’t know

this is the most realistic fucking thing I’ve read in this manga to this date. not knowing how you feel about the abusive parent who did so much harm but is now trying to change. boyyyyy howdy I feel that in my fucking bones. Horikoshi is out there delivering the real shit. goddamn

KATSUKI MY HERO

it’s as though Horikoshi placed his hands on his shoulders and said “listen up sonny boy, I’ve got an important job that only you can do. defuse this tension. in any way you can.” and Katsuki looked him dead in the eye and said “I got this”

meanwhile Deku’s hoping he can spontaneously develop another new quirk which will open up a hole in the ground to swallow him up

DEKU: “I HAD PERMISSION!!!” KACCHAN: “I DIDN’T HAVE SHIT!!”

HE IS BITCHING LIKE A DISGRUNTLED HOUSEWIFE HOLY SHIT I’M LOSING MY MIND

“A NORMAL, PLEASANT EVENING!!” yes of course, that’s why you spent the entire ride over here clinging to Todoroki’s shirt and repeating “WHY” ad infinitum. anyways as usual this child is a nightmare whose fickle tirades absolutely no one deserves to be subjected to, god bless him and I adore him so

and Deku is again apologizing for him like they’re fucking married. this chapter is filled with so many highs and lows for me, it’s wild

this, to be clear, is one of the highs. god I love it

oh shit it looks like Deku’s getting ready to say something! SOMETHING WISE, I BET

YESSSSSSS

IS HE?? sometimes this kid can just peer into other people’s souls with perfect clarity, it’s uncanny

oh my god Shouto’s face

genuine shock. he doesn’t even know how he feels, but somehow Deku is able to cut right to the heart of it

oh my god Katsuki’s there to chime right in too and say “but if you feel like he doesn’t deserve forgiveness that’s fucking fine too”

this is actually incredibly fucking supportive? anyway so guys have I mentioned within the last five seconds how much I love Bakugou fucking Katsuki. I have? well that’s okay I’ll just say it again anyway. and also I love Deku and Shouto too oh my god. bless this chapter

oh lol nevermind that still Deku talking while Katsuki is just making faces. well he’s doing his best. anyways so like I said I love Midoriya fucking Izuku

(ETA: [chinhands] do you guys think. that perhaps. Midoriya Izuku might be harboring some unresolved feelings regarding his own absent daddo. maybe. ??? why does this chapter have so many layers??)

ah I see, Katsuki spied Natsu just STANDING THERE LISTENING IN THE DARK, as one does, and that’s why the face

and also YES, Shouto is like the kindest fucking person in the whole series possibly. thank you for acknowledging that?? I’m in the process of arranging all of these new feels into a comfy little pile now, so maybe I can curl up in them. if Horikoshi insists on delivering more and more

SLDKFJSLDKFLSHGLKJKLJSLGKJSDLFKSDLFKJLSDKJFLKSL

“THE OTHER CHILD WHO’S NO LONGER THERE” RED ALERT, RED FUCKING ALERT, IT’S REALLY HAPPENING, HOLY FUCKING SHIT. REMINDER TO SELF, NEXT THURSDAY I’M GONNA HAVE TO GO ON A SELF-IMPOSED INTERNET HIATUS FOR TWENTY-FOUR HOURS BECAUSE FANDOM’S GOING TO LOSE THEIR FUCKING SHIT WITH THE SPOILERS NEXT WEEK AND I’M NOT EVEN MAD

sdfhk. oh my god. and so it was a photograph! but one which appears to be a segue into a flashback! and the law of escalating tragic flashbacks states that Touya’s is somehow going to be even more horrific than our last flashback, in which, let me just think back for a sec, oh yes, an entire family was massacred and torn into bloody chunks including a six-year-old girl and a dog, and the surviving child was then adopted by a psychopath who adorned him with severed hands and was all “NEVER FORGET HOW FUCKED UP YOU FEEL ABOUT ALL THIS” and then the child murdered some people to feel better about himself. so this is somehow going to be worse than that. well that’s just. ...I don’t even know. I literally can’t think of a lighthearted way to end that train of thought lmao. WE ARE FUCKING SCREWED. get ready to burn, baby

but meanwhile, parting thoughts

so they really do believe he’s dead. that’s confirmed. and he died (or, well, “died”) young, too, based on this picture and on the toys on that shelf. fffff

Endeavor kneeling at a family shrine to pay respects to his dead son and miserably wishing he was still alive is just. repeated stabbings of my already mutilated heart. thanks. thanks for that

he heard EVERYTHING and he’s saying nothing, because what can he say?? I meanwhile have already said “oh my god” about 1600 times in this recap, but I’ll go ahead and say it again anyway one last time because oh my god, the fucking Todofam AND THEIR FUCKING DRAMA!!!

what can I do for my family at this stage? the last plea of a desperate man struggling to make amends and piece together something he’s already shattered into a million pieces. he keeps dreaming of them being happy together, even if he’s not in the dream. he wants to do right by them, finally. but he doesn’t know how. anyways so people have been saying and saying that this arc so far has been death flag after death flag for this old coot, and you know what, they’re fucking right. this does not have a happy ending. this is going to be fucking devastating. and here I am, fully obsessed with it. fuck me

anyways I guess that’s finally everything I can think of to say. this recap is already a million fucking words so that’s fine lol. why though

#bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha 249 #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #todoroki fuyumi #todoroki touya #dabi #endeavor #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #so guys #when I'm writing up the initial recap and making notes of what screencaps to use #I use the first few words of dialogue from each panel I want to crop #for example: [why though]#anyway so long story short that led to me having one set of brackets which contained the words #[you cooked/endeavor]#and yeah. and then I was looking at natsu's face #and like #I don't know why I can't stop laughing?#'sis. you cooked endeavor??'#he's not sure how he feels about this. but he's probably going to allow it #anyway so when I'm busy sobbing next week I need to try and remember this to cheer myself up #'you cooked endeavor.' classic natsu #what a knave

212 notes · View notes

inanimate-insanity-headcanons · 5 years ago

Text

@nettlesbees (tumblr wont let me tag you >:c) submitted:

i really liked the mic serenades soap thing so here u go

(ft. the knife and mic have the same two moms hc from a while ago)

(language warning)

“hey, knife?”

knife pivoted, his grey curls doing a little jump as he moved. he found microphone stood ahead of him, her dreads messy and tangled.

“what the hell do you want?” he was surprised at his sudden temper, but he really wasn’t in the mood to talk to her right now. “sorry. force of habit.”

microphone cocked an eyebrow at that, but she continued, “can i ask you something?”

knife looked at his adopted sister, exhaustion lingering in his eyes, “make it quick.”

“how do you tell a girl you love her?”

he looked at microphone. then he sighed the longest, most dramatic sigh ever.

“i am the most homosexual fucking man on this island. what in god’s name do i know about women?” knife’s response was straightforward, but then he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “i don’t know, sing to her. you’re good at that.”

“what? i can’t just fucking sing to her?” microphone yelled. “what if she doesn’t like my song choice? what if my voice cracks? what if i forget to warm up? what if i underestimate my vocal range?”

knife knew exactly what she was talking about. he knew the violin and the guitar, so he knew a thing or two about music. he flashed her an angry stare and exhaled again. after a solid year of cleaning up after his sister, knife wanted a break. he didn’t want to think about his family.

“my guitar’s upstairs in my room. if i find even a scratch on it, microphone, i won’t be so goddamn calm. got it?” he tossed her his hotel card, and with that, he was gone.

* * *

microphone knew jack shit about songs. she was good at singing, yeah, but she’d never written anything in her life. yet there she was, waiting outside of soap’s room, a death grip on her brother’s guitar.

then, the door was answered. soap was doing much better. she had her hear in neat space buns and a white headband accompanying them. she was wearing a pastel pink sweater which loosely hung from her pale arms, and jeans.

“hey! sorry i’m not all dressed up, i didn’t know you were coming?” she didn’t smell of cleaning products anymore. it was a news sensation to microphone, seeing soap and not feeling bleach attack her nostrils.

mic was too nervous to talk, so she nodded and managed a, “so, how’s elimination?” her voice felt confused and anxious in her throat as she talked, but soap didn’t say anything. it might’ve been par for the course for microphone to be this...afraid. she wasn’t sure.

she sat on the bed as soap drained on about how much she had to cook, and how much all the contestants had changed. she freed knife’s guitar from her case, careful to be gentle with it.

“what’s that for?” soap cocked an eyebrow, smirking. she ran her fingers along the guitar before her friend could answer, her pink sleeves reflecting on the jet black surface. “i never knew you knew guitar.”

mic chuckled at that, “well, it’s my brother’s, but i know a thing or two.” she paused, breathing in. was she really gonna do this? what if soap didn’t like it? “can i show you?”

soap reacted quite quickly to that, she jumped back and smiled, then nodded, “oh, sure! yeah, yeah, go ahead.”

and then, the song started. microphone hadn’t prepared anything extravagant for her one-woman audience. it was just some delicate notes accompanied by some beautiful vocals. it encased the room in a calming manner. her voice was calm and quiet, which soap was grateful for.

the song came to an end, and silence returned. they sat there for a second, before soap said,

“wow....you really can play, huh?”

hello yes i’m crying?????? god BLESS i love this ;w;

#writing #art #submission #soap ii #microphone ii #mic ii #soapcrophone #?????? it hink jhdfsjsdf #but this is so cute i cry #inanimate insanity #ii

7 notes · View notes

hoopdiddies · 6 years ago

Text

I'm Not Over You //Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 9)

A/N: All the fact checking had me reeling to be honest and this is one long-ass chapter, longer than the one where I said 'it's the longest I've written' but actually this wins the competition. I've used some lyrics from the song Photograph cos I felt like it would go nicely with the flow plus I am weak with hospital scenes because of the distresses that occur within it but I tried ya know ¯_(ツ)_/¯ It's a little messy and dramatic on a side note because I had to deal with some outside disturbances as well and my mind was on other things 😔 But again, thank you guys for supporting this series! Your feedbacks mean a lot ♥ Tag list is always open!! (seriously, I need more people to tag xd)

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you the two of you met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: That angst from 8? Yeah, it just upgraded, fluff if you, like, use a microscope, explicit description of blood and injuries, swearing but I kept it to a minimum, mentions of death but there's actually no death. Melodrama, ig? Sorry, I had a hard time writing consistently this week ^^'

WC: 6.5k (Someone got carried away.)

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

@loveandbeloved29

@hardzzellos

Parts: 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

"Someone please help! Help us! "

"Bloody bastard just drove off without even stopping! "

"Are you fu- you left your phone?! He's barely clinging on to life!! Ask a random person to dial 911!"

"Oh god, what- what do we do- his head, his freaking head! There is so much blood right now!"

"D-don't move his neck! He's critical!"

"Rosy. Rosy. Calm down...he has to be fine..he should be... "

"An ambulance is on its way!"

"His head is fucking bloody! Do you even want- fuck! Someone help here! Someone, please help! "

"Is he even breathing?! "

"Oh god, Y/N! He's not- he's not! "

"You better not be joking around!"

"Joe! He is bloody dying and you think I'm fucking joking?!"

"He has no pulse as well..."

"I got to- I have to make an attempt to resuscitate him. "

"Are you sure?"

"We're not waiting for that goddamn vehicle! If I don't do it, he's going to die!"

"Wake up, Ben! Please, wake up..."

Blur. That's what everything was. A huge, uncoordinated, focal blur. A sea of people had crowded the scene like a flock of sheep ready to graze on the pasture, except the only green they had for their eyes was the sight of six, dreadful friends taking it in their hands to keep the seventh one grounded while they wait for professional help.

The ones with flashing cameras hoisted up high to document the scene disgusted you down to the pits of your stomach and you had wished for them to scatter away. You all, especially you had to bear the agony of seeing him motionless on the asphalt ground– without breath, skin drained of color while the only color highlighted in the spectrum was the copious but graphic amount of blood that had tainted the spot he was lying in– his hair coated in the sticky, sanguinary puddle, creating a traumatizing mix of blond and deep red that you now couldn't forget. The tears pricking from your eyes when you had given him mouth to mouth mingling with his bleeding forehead.

He had lost all consciousness at a maximum.

You had ached to cradle his body right there and then but had you acted on impulse; it would've worsened the situation.

Medics had filled in the scene seconds after you had given Ben a well-thought out CPR undeterred by your raging adrenaline. He was then brought into the ambulance with Rosy tagging along to be there when they rush him into the ER. You had gone after with the others in Gwilym's car, your shaking hands coated with drying blood -his drying blood- as you made your way to the hospital in a blistering cruise.

You're still in your dress, only topped with Joe's designer blazer to shield you from the cold and a warm, half-empty cup of brew situated between your palms partially substituting the natural heat of your skin, waiting quietly in the lounging room. They had transferred Ben to a private room after performing an operation on his head and scanning him afterwards. One of the emergency doctors remarked that if it weren't for your initiative to follow first aid protocol and give him immediate resuscitation before help had arrived– he would have gone ten minutes early.

You've been waiting an hour and a half for the doctor to step out of the room and deliver the news about his condition. And while you do that, Joe and Lucy have gone off to collect a fresh pair of clothing from the hotel for you to change into. Rosy is stood at the entrance making some calls, Gwilym and Rami have gone back to their respective hotels to change clothes and come back for the news.

You felt light hearing that comment but it's nothing compared to the aftermath of the accident. It was a hit-and-run and the driver didn't even step on his breaks or bother to stop to take responsibility.

Rami's blazer that had been used to delay Ben's bleeding has been given back to him for dry cleaning. To complicate the situation, you're supposed to be boarded on a plane back to England eight hours from now yet that's something you have to cross out from the bucket list, entirely. You're not going anywhere unless Ben heaves out a single sigh of life.

Not a single step out the fucking institution unless he opens those eyes.

Unless he parts his lips.

Unless he says your name.

You owe it to him for saving your life, nearly costing his.

And it's just 2 in the morning.

You put down the cup on the space next to you, bringing your hands up to your lowered head, underneath your eyes watering from all of that's happened tonight.

"We're back." Two figures stand before you minutes after your eyelids have fluttered shut in despair. You lift your head to be met with Joe and Lucy in their casual clothes, smiling sadly at you with paperbags in hand.

You return that smile with a much weaker one. They settle the bags down and Joe sinks down on one knee in front of you, taking your face in his hands gently while he peeks up at you. "I see the news isn't out yet. You can change, we'll take care of it."

"You sure?" You mumble quietly. He nods and you prolong a sigh as you sit up, getting tenderly lulled into a hug by Lucy. "He's gonna be okay." She expresses definitely as she rubs your back. You thank her for the reassurance before taking one of the bags that contains your clothes.

Pulling the hem of your sweatshirt in place, you couldn't wait to escape the lavatory. It smells of newly applied bleach and the pungent odor is plain nauseating. You close the door with the bag in hand on your way out but freeze in your spot as a certain, exclusive news breaks out in the TV screen above you.

"Just 10pm tonight, Bohemian Rhapsody and EastEnders star, Ben Hardy, has reportedly been gravely involved and injured in a hit-and-run just outside of Wallis Annenberg Center during the ongoing Vanity Fair after party. Sources said that he had dashed headlong down the traffic-jammed streets to what they said was an attempt to save co-star's, Joe Mazzello, date from an incoming vehicle– which he had succeeded in as he failed to save himself–" The rest of the news anchor's words go unprocessed in your head as you hurriedly trace your way back to the lounging area, unwilling to hear recurring reports at yours or anyone's expense.

It already hurts enough that you think it's partly your fault for acting so careless.

By now, the attending physician should be out and conveying the news to Lucy and Joe and as you arrive– he is, hands in his lab coat pockets, informing them in the most serious of tones.

They see you approaching and you ask immediately, words stumbling out of your mouth like perceivable beats. "Doc, how is he? How's Ben?"

With Lucy and Joe already informed about it, the doctor decides to tell you himself to save them the hassle. "He should be fine soon. However I must be frank with you, miss," your heart loses a beat for a fraction of a second at the suspense rising, "he flat lined twice in the ER. It took three sets of defibs to get his heart beating again." Hearing him break to you that Ben was a simple step away from death as they tried to treat him drains the warm color palette in your face, even with the affirmation that he's going to be alright; knowing there were two moments in which he had slipped in and out of life at the same time just upsets your stomach.

The doctor continues with his report, telling you that he's suffered from a mild to severe head trauma caused by the blunt force when he had his scalp dragged along the asphalt. Apparently he fissured the the near front of his skull and underwent neurosurgery for it. You quickly get the idea, having studied a series of medical topics of course, but it doesn't invalidate the fact that it still sounds like a bad thing.

The doctor sighs and adds. "Although he bled internally at a minimum, he's lucky to have bled externally for the most part."

Forming a steeple of your fingers and stealing a quick glimpse of Lucy and Joe, you gulp hard. "How long 'til he wakes up?"

"I'd say in about 48 hours. His scan results after the surgery showed promise for a stable recovery though he might wake up a little dazed at first due to the moderate concussion," at least you're getting the assurance that he's waking up, "your friend has a thick skull. He'll recover in time, but with short-term effects."

48 hours. Not enough time for you to stay or leave.

"Can we see him? Right now?" Setting your expectations to the highest, you ask with a glimmer of hope and the doctor approves, minding you to turn down the lights in the room as Ben would likely be sensitive to it by the time he wakes. "A nurse will come by and check on him every once in a while as well."

You nod weakly, thanking him professionally as you gradually hang your head in disappointment. He wishes Ben a speedy recovery before turning on his heels, leaving you to it.

Lucy brings her short hair up in a pigtail, asking as she lifts up her share of the paper bags. "Are we going in now? I mean, the doc said we're able to." She vaguely points at the door of the room and you and Joe swap looks before deciding on it. You collect your items from the seats and draw in breaths as you follow suit, stepping into the room and being welcomed by the almost odorless whiff of paint and medicine; along with the light to moderate blow of the air conditioner.

As the door clicks close, you stand motionless yet internally trembling at the heartbreaking sight of Ben lying unresponsive, surrounded by various machines working to keep him alive. Flanking his bed are the heart monitor -fully functional- and a medical ventilator from which he is breathing from. He's hooked up to an IV bag with a breathing tube put into his mouth, his left arm is propped upon his abdomen but protected around a plaster and supported within a blue arm sling and lastly, his head is wrapped in a layer of roller bandage– the giveaway of his major injury.

"Y/N..." Joe cooing breaks you off from your vacant gaze but you hand him a forlorn eye as bring yourself to Ben's side, glancing over his limp body. He's taken quite a hit to have fractured his arm like this. His complexion didn't appear as livid as it is now and marking his bottom lip -which has lost that luscious red tint as well- is a small bruise, parted from his upper lip as he involuntarily breathes through the tube in his mouth. You don't hear his slow exhales but the normal rise and fall of his chest consoles a small part of you; the stable beeping of the heart monitor being the only occuring noise in the room. Concerned with how awfully quiet you've gone, Lucy and Joe give each other fitting looks as they share the same thought on the situation. As one of them begins to step close to ensure you're taking it well, you pipe up before them, your once honey-laced voice diminished to a monotone. "It's...not my fault."

"Of course, it's not," Lucy, being the one who has taken that step close, tenderly agrees but you add.

"It's not but it feels like it is."

Now Joe steps up next but stop as you add once more.

"And I told him I wanted to forget him and for him to do the same." Now some tears are inevitable.

"Y/N-"

"As impractical as it is to think about it now, but what if he does?" your hand has now hovered over him, the nerves of the pads of your fingers itching to skim themselves over his free hand, "I don't want to go. But I have to and he's still not gonna wake up by the time I leave."

His condition just yearns for your touch but you don't want to lay a hand on him just yet, out of the fear that you might hurt a small part of him.

Joe sighs softly as he puts his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them with ease. "Why don't you just email the institution about it? Tell them you're gonna have to delay because of an urgent matter."

"I can do that, but only a day after. I can't take long."

"Rami and Gwilym are on their way," Lucy reminds as she gets off her phone from messaging them, "with some food and water."

"None of us are burning the midnight oil then," Joe stretches his limbs and returns to the couch to take a moment to relax, eyes snapping wide as he remembers something. "By the way, Y/N. If you spilled your heart out to him earlier, did you include the bit where our relationship was all but pretend?"

Surely the stare you and Lucy are sharing towards him could render the atmosphere painful but you answer regardless of the topic, shaking your head as you turn your attention to Ben once more. "No. But he's bound to question it. That is if he remembers what happened."

Lucy rests her hand on her hip as she glances at the heart monitor, the waves tempting her eyes to follow them. "Doctor never implied anything about amnesia."

The three of you fall silent again with you locking your gaze at the man who didn't want to let you go. Who chased you down a busy highway knowing he'd bite the dust if he did and ended up saving you at the expense of his own well-being.

And life.

And his own soul.

He'll recover in a short period, yes. But when you had gently grazed your trembling hand over his bloodied head in the middle of the street, it was as if he was bound to never wake up. A visual you want to shake off for the sake of composure.

Joe and Lucy take notice of your stilled silence again, their expressions low-spirited. Taking small steps towards you, Lucy wraps her arms around your shoulders from behind and pulls out a certain object from her back pocket, slipping it to you. "Found this in the inner pocket of Ben's tainted blazer when the doctors gave his clothes to us."

You cast your gaze to what she's holding and hear your heart shatter at what it is. You slowly take it from her and sweep your thumb over it.

Ben's share of your Homecoming picture.

And behind it, the same date and continuation of what was written on your half.

You piece it in your mind and feel your eyes cloud with tears, a droplet making a small patter as it lands on the polaroid.

He kept it. In his blazer. He brought it along with him.

_I'm not going... anywhere at all. _

"But I am." You mutter as opposed to the words in your head. For as long as you love him and he doesn't in the way you do, distancing yourself is something that needs to be done to make sure you finally let go. You'd stick around but it would further fragment your soul.

Just in time to tear you from reaching your breakfing point, the door creaks open to two men and a red-haired woman, two of whom are grasping paper bags containing some food and water and one with an overwrought look, respectively.

Lucy leaves your side and walks over to Rami's, kissing his cheek and helping them unload their items on the coffee table. Gwilym gives the three of you, and Rosy who had followed in behind them, an individual hug– asking you about Ben's condition as he lays eyes on him.

You assure him of a smooth recovery and it unknots the lump of worry he's under.

"Oh, Ben, baby... " Breaks down Rosy, who whizzes past you to tear up over her injured fiance. She gazes down painfully at the man before her and delicately fondles his blanch cheek, eyes narrowed to the point where her face has contorted to a scowl which she throws directly at you. "This is all your fault. "

Your brows crease at her in absolute confusion. "What are you talking about?" Sensing that an altercation is about to take place, the rest stumble quiet in preparation for the worst. Joe readies himself to butt in in case it escalates further.

"What did you say to him?" She asks you in a form of a hiss.

"Nothing! I-"

"He chased you down! You must have said something that set him off!" Her demanding voice echoes off the walls, overlaying the beeping and whizzing of both the heart monitor and ventilator. You begin swearing to her that you didn't say anything of the sort but trail off as you realize that what you had actually said, was something that indeed hurt him.

You draw your lips between your teeth and clench your fist, unable to respond with the truth, fearing it might just fuel the fire.

"That's- that's not important now." You shake your head dismissively and turn around.

"It is. You led Ben out into the street, agitated."

"Rosy, please. Can we not talk about this now? We're squabbling in front of an unconscious man-"

"Okay girls. Our boy is out cold but that doesn't mean he can't hear, right?" Eager to quench the growing conflict, Gwilym slides in between the dangerous proximity you've put yourselves in and you huff an apology.

On the other hand, Rosy does the complete opposite. "No, Gwilym. He has been acting strange for weeks and to think tomorrow's supposed to be our wedding! And this is all because of her."

Gwilym turns to her firmly and tries calming - or rather shutting her up for the sake of the peace Ben needs to heal- her down. "We're not throwing fingers here. I know tomorrow's the day and you don't want to put him under pressure, right? I don't think he's going to succumb to waking up if this goes on."

Rami, Lucy and Joe have remained unbelievably quiet but are as keen as Gwilym to prevent something unnecessary as this. It's barely 3 am in the morning for the love of God and you're all in a hospital room. Sleeping patients could bang their fists on the walls from the other side any time.

You, on the other hand, have already made four steps towards the door, ready to leave the room to be alone with your thoughts for the night but you're unable to twist the knob as Rosy snaps once more with the hint, distressing with a clenched jaw.

She's unrelenting.

"Please Y/N, you're overstepping and frankly it's getting in the way of my relationship with Ben."

"You have no idea what I'm trying to do," You mumble in the most bitter of intonations for Rosy to get the message, your fingers clenching around the knob and producing a faint chink. "But he's my best friend. Let me be the person I've always been to him, " you whip your head at her -a stare you're certain could equal to a pelted javelin- and draw your brows together, pleading on account of choosing to be present in a crisis such as this, " he's all yours anyway."

With a strong swing of the door, you march angrily out of the room, making your way outside the building to blow off steam – the smooth rub of the polaroid between your fingers surrendering you to tears.

You give yourself exactly 48 hours to stay before heading back to England to board your flight for Spain.

10 hours

Ben's accident was a clean hit-and-run. Apparently some bystanders had snapped a shot of the license plate the moment the car slowed down and accelerated afterwards. It was then delivered to the police to be given further investigation. His parents have flown in from England to visit him and you badly wish you could greet them but some things are just too heavy to do right now. Back at the hospital, Ben's been given hourly checks and assessments, with each desired result constant. He's not responsive to any physical contact but the doctor is certain that he can perceive sound and sound only. His body is asleep but his mind isn't.

The rest will be visiting him at dusk while you're going in late with Joe.

After sending an email to the university about your 24-hour delay, you spend the entire day just waiting to go down there and be by his side. Regarding your solitude in the hotel room, Rami had Lucy stay in with him for the meantime and being initially worried about leaving you, she had asked for your permission to which you said yes to.

Sometimes in the day, you can't hold back a few tears at the flashing memory.

17 hours

Loving can hurt

Standing in front of the private room, you clutch the collar of your shirt anxiously, hearing incoherent but distinct murmurs on the other side of the door. Joe looks down at you and squeezes your hand lightly to relieve you of pressure. He knows how much this is affecting you, and though not visually shown, he's taking it hard too.

Loving can hurt sometimes

The door opens to a couple you've familiarized yourself with for so long. Ben's parents.

"Y-Y/N?" Says his mum, unable to believe that it's you standing before her. Your breath hitches as you grin sadly, being pulled into her embrace. "It's been so long."

"It has, Mrs. Jones."

Joe shakes hands with his father as he introduces himself politely. Mr. Jones greets you in with a light hug as well and you can't help but spill a few tears.

But it's the only thing that I know

They give you full access to the room

as they themselves have to leave for a while, thereby trusting their son to his closest circle. Knowing how tight you and Ben are, they give you much of their trust on this one and you'd want nothing more than to make sure he'll wake up without any further complications. They obviously know about Rosy but witnessing how long you and Ben have grown on one another, they trust you the most.

They bid you and Joe goodbye, leaving access to the room exclusive.

When it gets hard

As you begin closing the door behind Joe, he insists that you have some alone time with him. Though it may feel weird but he feels as if you need this the most with time going against you now. Touched by his thoughtfulness, you give him a quick embrace before he leaves you to it.

You know it can get hard sometimes

The sight before you hasn't changed that much.

The same monitors and the same person.

Same feeling.

However you'd rather take everything

in a different light and situation.

You fiddle with your fingers as you accumulate the strength to swallow the lump in your throat, drawing yourself to his side. The mild, incessant whirring of both the air conditioner and ventilator occupies the silent atmosphere along with the steady beeps of the heart monitor, blocking the huge gulp you've taken.

It is the only thing that makes us feel alive

Slowly taking a seat on the stool positioned beside the guard rails of the bed, you let out a quavery sigh– the byproduct of all the tearing up you've done today. You take his free hand in yours and stroke his pale knuckles with your thumb, leaning in to plant a kiss on it.

We keep this love in a photograph

"Ben? It's me. Can you hear me?"

One-sided conversations are helpful according to experts and this is the perfect opportunity to tell him everything without having to bear the flits in his expression.

But you beg to differ.

We made these memories for ourselves. Where our eyes are never closing.

You continue, allowing every crack and quiver to manifest in your voice no matter how relatively pathetic it will make you sound.

"Ben, please, you gotta wake up. You're leaving us in a hot mess here, bud. Hell, you gave your parents the scare of their lives. I know I'm starting off rough with this, but it's all cause you had to leap in like that. But then again, it was- it was not your fault. This- all of this is not your doing. I should've been more careful on that road. Would've been better if I had cut back on the melodrama, huh? Haha..."

You lick your lips and resume, owning the patters your tears have soiled on the tiled floor.

Hearts are never broken

"I'm sorry if I had to hide it all from you, " you build it up slowly, tears tenacious to leave your eyes, "it's just that I was afraid you'd soon forget me once you've married and I wouldn't be part of your life anymore. To make matters worse, I have always loved you, Ben. On every level and aspect, I still do. Sticking around to see you spend the rest of your life with someone else when that feeling is still present is just toxic. And to think you're supposed to be wedded tomorrow, "you sniffle, taking a few seconds to form your following words, "that's why it would be easier if we- if we...oh god, I'm actually much more of an actor than you are..." You want to chuckle for it, but nothing resembling a chuckle mopes out of your mouth. Just...short breaths.

Time is forever frozen-

"But I truly am happy for you. I really am. But I can't be happy myself when you've taken a huge portion of my heart and I'm just...I just want to make sure nothing will ever ruin your happiness," You close the distance between you and the bed, your hot tears dripping on his arm sling, the cloth absorbing it. You're really taking advantage of his inability to respond.

"I'm s-sorry, Ben. I don't know how long I can stay by your side like this. Literally like this. But as long as I am able, " you lower your head onto his chest, now shamelessly sobbing like you haven't broken down in centuries, squeezing his free but chilly hand like it's the only thing that'll give you warmth tonight, "I'm sorry if I'm going somewhere."

And still

Despite promising to give you a moment alone with him, Joe -having recurring, inquisitive tendencies- has acted as opposed to his promise and eavesdropped on your unrequited talk due to having to wait too long, not realizing that after hearing all your words exit in sobs, you've fallen asleep with your head on Ben's chest.

Joe glances around the hall before budging the door open, careful not to disturb you as he sees you out cold next to him. He presses his lips into a hard line and chuckles quietly, amused as he grabs an available sheet from the couch and drapes it over you. The moment he notices a tear droplet stuck in the corner of your eye, he wipes it away with his thumb, sighing profoundly.

"Rosy's gonna flip when she gets back and sees this. So, " Joe, mumbling on his own, tumbles back down onto the couch and kicks back, "I'll be here just in case."

20 hours

So you can keep me

A nurse opens the door with a tray and clipboard in hand to conduct an hourly assessment of his condition, not minding your head placement on his chest. He's still unresponsive to anything external.

I**nside the pocket of your ripped jeans **

As the test ends and the nurse closes the door on her way out, his finger twitches.

30 hours

Holding me closer til our eyes meet

Joe wakes you up softly with a bowl of soup in hand– something he bought from the cafeteria upstairs. You lift your heavy head from its recent spot and blink your bleary eyes at him, giving away a wry smile and telling him you'll eat later on.

You won't ever be alone

"By they way, this slipped from your pocket." He slips something off the table and hands it to you with a knowing look, that something being the dual polaroids you've taped together the other night. You take it from him deliberately and turn your head to Ben, before staring down at the joint pictures, nostalgia ever so sudden like a whiplash.

Wait for me to come home

35 hours

Loving can heal

Rami and Lucy have stopped by to visit and take your 'shifts' considering Rosy is still absent and you and Joe had to return to the hotel to change. The attending physician and a nurse come in to replace his breathing tube with a nasal cannula, since the assessment done hours prior has shown that he's already capable of breathing on his own.

39 hours

Loving can mend your soul

"Funny how today is supposed to be his wedding but we're getting a funeral instead. " Morbidly comments one of Ben's visitors and closest friends. Every single person in the room who has come by to visit Ben shoots a death glare at him for making that joke within a two feet radius of Ben who is sure to give him a bop on the head the minute he gets up.

41 hours

And it's the only thing that I know

Meanwhile Rosy had spent the entire day rescheduling the wedding and the once volatile reactions she's had do a 360 and is brought down to one, constant look as she bumps into you on your way to Ben's room.

42 hours

I swear it will get easier, remember that with every piece of you

You both don't say a word until you've settled down on the couch as she strays to Ben's side and wipes the glistening speckle of sweat on his cheek with her thumb, the silence coming to a close as you pry the words out of your mouth.

"Rosy, believe me. I have never harboured the thought of coming between you both. I'm only ever there for him as a friend."

And it's the only thing we take with us when we die

Giving you an impassive eye, she ignores your words entirely and turns her attention back to her fiance.

45 hours

We keep this love in a photograph

You don't leave the room with the hours progressing to the moment he's timed to wake up. A lot of people have paid him a visit, cracking jokes and talking to him notwithstanding the fact that he's utterly unresponsive. They've done all they can to lighten the mood in the room, hoping all their antics and bliss would lure Ben out of his induced insensibility. But he's nowhere near the edge.

We made these memories for ourselves

47 hours

With Rosy snuggled up against his side, Ben retains immobility and it's a sight you're not used to since he's one of the most fidgety arseholes who's ever graced your life. You know you'd be bombed by her if you do this with her close by, but you had given yourself exactly 48 hours to stay before heading back.

Where our eyes are never closing, hearts are never broken

And so you wander to the opposite side of the bed and peer at down your wristwatch for the time.

Time's forever frozen and still.

48 hours

"Ben?" You whimper close to his ear. He's not responding. You know he wouldn't wake up that quickly at the strike of the exact hour but you're impatient to say goodbye to him with his forest, green eyes on full display and wandering around your (Y/E/C) ones to bolster you up.

"Hey." You coax into his ear again, still no response. The racing beat of your heart has matched the beeps of the heart monitor. His heart beats. The similarity is sketchy but nearly symbolic. You're leaving in the morning and he's not up and lively for you to fervently crush in a parting embrace.

"Bud, please. I can't force you to wake up but I'm leaving tomorrow. You have to help me...here." At this point, though how eager you are to, you can't let some tears stream down from your eyes since the possibility of Rosy waking up to you catching sobs is feasible, but Ben's involuntary stillness is not helping you with that ordeal. Losing all hope for a night, you straighten up and collect your things from the couch, deciding to come back one last time tomorrow prior to your departure.

You quickly open the door to the attending physician who's about to step in to take physical tests but you whisk past him without taking a second look.

Easy to say you didn't have a good night sleep with all the stresses weighing down on you that night. Either you hyperventilated in your slumber or remained asleep but with tears seeping from your half-closed eyes.

You've sent Lucy a text in the early hours of the morning notifying her about your departure today. She hasn't responded yet.

"Just a 24-hour delay? Are they that heartless?" Leaning on the door frame of your hotel room with a bitten donut in his hand, Joe questions as he watches you prop your luggage against the open door. "I had to reschedule the flight thrice last month, this one being the latest. It's only reasonable," You huff as a matter of fact, fixing the scarf that has dangled loose around your neck and staring into oblivion barely a second after going tight-lipped.

Finishing his donut, Joe pokes you out of your momentary trance. "You alright?"

You shake your head.

"I don't even know if he's awake now. It's past 48 hours and what if he-"

"There's only one way to find out," appeasing your elevating worry, he grabs you by the shoulders and looks you square in the eye, silently guaranteeing you of his recovery.

Since he'll be driving you to the airport, your things are neatly stored in the confines of the backseat but of course, you have to see Ben one last time, setting aside all the excruciating anticipation.

You scurry into the entrance with Joe by your side, out of breaths by the time you arrive at the door of Ben's room. Taking precautionary measures, you knock firmly on the surface expecting someone or Rosy to answer. But nada. You swap some looks with Joe and twist the knob gently, finding the room free of visitors and medical staff. Perhaps they've assessed him an hour prior.

"No one's around."

As you begin slipping a foot through the ajar door, Joe puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you mid-step.

"Lucy's on her way."

His update on her reply makes you smile and you continue into the room, seeing the curtains that had blocked the sunlight for two days cast aside, spilling some sunlight into the room.

You take small, wobbly steps along the floor, unable to accept that until now he hasn't fluttered open those orbs you loved staring into so much. You suddenly fear that a complication has risen and is causing his extended unconsciousness but that must be the least of your worries.

So you can keep me, inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

He has to hear you. He has to. He has to.

He's gone really pasty. Dark circles under his eyes despite being asleep for two days. He has grown a scruff and looks painfully unruly, but still a face of an angel. You crouch and take his free hand in yours– careful not to disconnect the IV tube from his wrist, caressing it and drawing in a sharp inhale to free yourself of any doubt to speak up. "Ben. It's Y/N. You're scaring us, you know. The doctor said you'd wake up earlier but why? Why haven't you? What are you doing in there?"

This being the end of the long haul for you, you're not forcing anything at bay anymore– not your tears, not your peeves and certainly not your feelings. You interlace your fingers around his and kiss the back of his hand, your cheeks growing scarlet and wet with tears.

Holding me closer til our eyes meet, you won't ever be alone.

You get up from crouching and throw your arm around him in defiance of the possibility of applying a lot of pressure on his chest. It feels so different holding him that way. For the time you have left, an overly emotional, one-sided conversation should make up for the lost times that would've been great for those.

And if you hurt me, that's okay baby only words bleed

"You really kept that Homecoming picture, didn't you? Coincidentally I did too, just forgot it was there as well. But I pieced it back, by the way. Ironic that we both made a promise on those polaroids the night before graduation. I-I have it with me here, just so you know. Just thought I'd bring it out since...I'll be going soon." You pull the pictures out from the pocket of your coat with trembling hands, eager to wave them in front of him. Once out, you place it on the bedside table for him to keep once more but with your share of the picture.

Inside these pages you just hold me, and I won't ever let you go

You lay your forehead on his, your tears dripping onto his closed lids as you sob his name to get him to wake, at the same time feeling his soft exhales brush against your chin. " I told you I'd be strong and I'm trying to be. I know it sounds like a selfish thing to do but you have to trust me on this one. I want to move on, Ben. You're bound to be wedded soon and have a family of your own. I want to be there for that. I want to be that aunt who'll spoil your kids and make them fight you for the craziest demands. Those things I'd gladly do...if I wasn't this hopeless for you," Little by little, your voice comes out as broken whisper– losing your strength to add any more things to say in the process. On the other side of the door, Joe is finally joined by Lucy who has arrived not a minute late and they can't help but tear up a little at how uncontrolled your crying is slowly turning out, it's become audible enough to be heard from outside.

"Ben, buddy. Come on." He huffs against the hardwood as he and Lucy are tempted to barge in.

Burying your face into the exposed column of his neck with your arm slackening from being draped across his chest, you utter a voiceless but heartfelt statement.

Wait for me to come home

"I love you, Benjamin Jones. Be happy for me."

Your words hang thinly in the fragile air as you pull away from that proximity and leave a long kiss on his forehead, walking back sadly to the door with your hand outstretched ready to grab ahold of the knob.

"H-how could I be..."

The words released sound like a mere memory resonating in your head but you are proved wrong once you turn around.

#borhap #queen #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap imagine #ben hardy fanfic #imagine #fanfic

124 notes · View notes

0chronophobia0 · 5 years ago

Note

;; How do you imagine kurono relationship with each one of the members of the precepts?

-insert eyes emoji + sparkling emoji- this will be fun

ps- sorry this took so long to respond andlkjafkbhsegkb I fell asleep like 3 times while writing this and got distracted several times by philkas and malec

——–

Chisaki Kai (Overhaul)

So, it is normal to see Kurono hanging out in the background when Chisaki is in the room, as he’s always following him around in case he needs anything at all, Overhaul’s thirsty? He’s got him covered, Fiji water for the best boss on earth

Kurono has such a high admiration towards him, you’ll be able to catch him gazing at Chisaki and melting every time they lock stares, you’ll be able to view the exact moment Hari spills his uwus every time Kai looks at him

Would never dare address him as Chisaki or Kai though, he’d be dead where he stands if he did, he respects Kai too much, and therefore only calls him Overhaul, though sometimes he might slip but pick himself up before he can call him by his name, he’s slick and therefore able to distract Chisaki when stuff like this happens

They’ve known each other for the longest time, Kurono knows almost everything about Chisaki and views him as his best friend, yet Chisaki has a hard time admitting he too sees Hari as his friend, but it is not as if it bothers Hari, as he is completely fine with the fact that Kai doesn’t view him as highly as he does, or so he thinks, Kai’s the boss anyway so it SHOULD be this way, right?

Irinaka Joi (Mimic)

Their relationship is… complicated. like they are friends but they are not at the same time.

They’re both very competitive when it comes to being the best co-leader of the Shie hassaikai, they’ve got this silent game where they are always trying to outsmart each other, well more like it is Kurono trying to be better than Irinaka and getting frustrated when Joi receives praise and he doesn’t, but Hari ain’t gonna complain because complaining will lead him nowhere.

definitely takes advantage on the fact he’s very obviously Chisaki’s favorite to make sure Irinaka goes through a pranks hell, you bet Mimic was woken up in a daycare with other toys just as kids come racing in, of course, he can’t do much other than escape and assist work late because goddamn Hari had to so kindly deliver him to some children which pulled at his little arms and legs and drenched him in saliva, and also stabbed bows into his head, you know, peachy, has to burn that body afterwards because there’s no way in hell Kai will let him get close to him, so many fucking germs.

overall though, they are able to hold a serious conversation, but if they are left alone for too long Kurono might start pushing Joi’s buttons until the room becomes a battlefield.

when Kurono is angry he will pick up Mimic and throw him against a wall, it doesn’t hurt him much so… gotta take advantage of that.

Nemoto Shin

oh boy, oooooooohhhh boy. when you see these two together, you know you gotta be scared, be very afraid, they are NOT here for good, don’t move, don’t shake, don’t speak, don’t even b r e a t h e, one wrong move and you’re fucking dead

Together, they’re like those popular beautiful stereotypical blond high school girls, sarcasm is their virtue, and you bet they know every flaw about you, the moment they get together, and they land their eyes on you, you’re dead meat, so bitch you better go perfectly still or hoe, you already fckn ded.

Nemoto is Kurono’s go-to friend, since you know… Chisaki isn’t exactly the best best friend, Kurono has Nemoto to back him up whenever he needs something Kai can’t provide, aka something emotional or physical, Hari finds Shin lots of fun and it isn’t rare to catch them talking when Chisaki is nowhere to be seen, or even laughing with each other.

They do tend to keep things strictly professional around Chisaki or Irinaka though, often meeting up right after to talk about whatever and chitchat

It may not seem like it, but Kurono loves drama, and who better than Nemoto to make people spill the tea? His quirk’s name should be tea spiller, not Confession, and honestly? Hari loves it, something he will more than proudly admit

When the situation is given, they both flirt with each other and call each other lovey nicknames, you know like… “asshole”, “dickhead”, and occasionally they address each other as “boo” but that’s more of a friendly thing

None of them talk about it but once they got so high together the next day they woke up in the same bed, luckily fully dressed, but it ain’t like either of them cares, it is simply that Chisaki would kill Hari if he knew this.

Sakaki Deidoro

Well there isn’t much to say about Kurono’s relationship with him, other than he occasionally tagging along with him and Nemoto to go bar hopping incognito at 3 AM while Chisaki is asleep, Kurono often being forced to take a thorough shower when he gets back because the smell of alcohol isn’t something Chisaki likes to find on his #1 assistant

For the most part, their relationship is due to work, as Kurono doesn’t see himself to be great friends with him, but still is willing to socialize with him, after all, he isn’t supposed to form strong bonds/relationships with the expendable bullets of the yakuza

Rikiya Katsukame

Again, there isn’t much to say, Hari things Rikiya is hot, he’s tall, muscular, and able to burst through a wall very easily, Kurono finds that amusing, and therefore is often seen checking him out with Nemoto, who simply agrees and adds on lmao.

_Doesn’t even talk to him tho unless it’s job-related, though sometimes he might tell him he’s done a good job after accomplishing a mission and leaves right after_

Hekiji Tengai

so, their relationship is quite complicated, since there are times Hari is responsible, stoic, and well-mannered, which is when he gets along with Tengai, they will talk politely over a cup of hot chocolate and Kurono will keep him up to date with anything he knows

but then there is when Kurono is in the mood to mess with everyone and you bet Tengai is his go-to target

Hari will tease him non-stop and make sure Tengai regrets seeing him that day, though when overhaul walks in he can’t say shit since by the end of the day he’s just another expendable serving under their command, and it’s not like Hari bothers him that much, as it is mostly just Kurono budging him and likely to get slapped, which only causes Hari to laugh whenever he’d get hit after annoying him

Rappa Kendou

Hari’s #3 favorite tbh, like, he simply likes this guy, there are no reasons why. Actually, there is, and it is that Rappa is simply a big puppy? You know, the kind to destroy your house while you’re gone and wants to bite everything with its little hurtfully sharp teeth? That Rappa to Hari

He’s so big,,,, Kurono loves that, he loves having to look up to stare at him in the face, he loves his strong build, he loves his arms, oh god his arms

you bet Kurono loves praising Rappa, whenever he fights, after overhaul, he is the first one to get a piece of Hari’s mind about his well-done job, thus boosting the guy’s ego, he often finds himself being able to control him better than many, this thanks to his quirk quick practically paralyzes him? until he’s calmed down

Kurono loves his gigantic pupper, you bet that Hari spoils him, Rappa is a good guy, if only he didn’t want to fight everyone to literal death, and that’s something Kurono acknowledges and finds amusing, he does his own thing, and doesn’t like being put into teams, as it has been seen before, but we all know Hari would not say no to overhaul

Setsuno Toya

Toya, Hari, and Shin are the mean girls of the Shie hassaikai, Hari is Regina George, Shin is Gretchen Weiners, and Toya is Karen Smith, he has the least power out of the three, but he’s nice to have around so they keep him in the group lmao

Kurono talks to Toya more through text than face to face, mostly because they send each other lots of memes and funny/ugly selfies, they also make mischievous plans to mess with Overhaul almost every day, and rarely have they been caught

Setsuno allows Hari to take his phone and send Overhaul vines asking him to see them, after all, Toya is suicidal, so he’s got nothing to lose, and even though Kurono appreciates Setsuno as a pal, he knows he can’t get attached, and therefore just does as he wants

though when Setsuno needs help, Kurono is more than willing to offer himself first, he may not be very good with advice and emotions though, but he is a good listener and will sit and hear him out through every rant along with a cup of hot chocolate

They once made a plan together to prank overhaul and Kurono replaced Chisaki’s usual black surgeon mask with one that said ‘owo’ one morning and paid Toya to go up to him and say “good mowning mitew owohauw” and record it, but in addition to that, which made the video way better, Overhaul replied with a sigh, and in a very disappointed tone… “hewwo”

Soramitsu Tabe

chompy boie, Kurono doesn’t usually talk to him, but sometimes he will bring the weirdest foods and feed them to Tabe just for fun

He likes to invite him and Hojo when he hands out with Setsuno, since they are Toya’s friends, and together they will find reckless/fun stuff to do, of course, Overhaul never knows that Hari tags along with them, they keep Kurono covered -insert thumbs up emoji-

Once, Hari gathered all the precepts and made them sit in a circle around Tabe and brought in a deep fried sock, together they all chanted until Tabe was so overwhelmed he ended up eating the sock

Yu Hojo

welp, Hojo is one of the only people he actually maintains a calm and professional relationship with, unless the gang gets together, but that’s another story

They chat and discuss about serious topics, sometimes Tengai will join them, and they’ll have a nice and calm time spent together but that’s about all they do

They also read novels and watch those dramatic Mexican novellas, and it is normal to see them talk about them, Hari knows Spanish and has tried teaching Hojo, but his accent is poor and his pronunciation is hopeless, though Hari still tries to teach him and Hojo tries even harder to learn

60 notes · View notes

irrelevantwriter · 6 years ago

Text

Relaxation Is Key

Pairing: John Winchester x OFC

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings/Tags: Language, smut, unprotected sex, mention of bodily fluids, daddy kink

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Cat is eager to spoil her boyfriend after he’s been away on a hunt.

A/N: I got inspired by all the new John Winchester content being released and decided to write this piece. It was random and took a different turn, as my writing often does. Hope you guys enjoy! And I’ve tagged those I thought might be interested. Let me know if you’d like to be removed. Thanks, and happy reading!

_____________________________________________________________________

Cat could hear the muffled voice of her boyfriend in the bedroom as she put the finishing touches on her surprise. The infamous John Winchester lay in her bed just a few feet away, no doubt talking to his sons who were away on a hunt. The man had just gotten home himself from an excursion that had kept him from her for three weeks. It was one of the longest stretches of time they’d gone without seeing each other and it had affected her more than she realized.

It felt like the more he went away, the more difficult it became. And the harder she fell for him. He and his sons had become a huge part of her life within the last two years and she didn’t see her feelings dwindling any time soon. Instead, they only seemed to magnify. And tonight, she wanted to show him just how much.

She fiddled with the hem of the red lace negligée she’d bought last week. She’d bought it on a whim, not entirely sure she would indulge herself and even wear it. But here she was. Dolled up and wearing next to nothing. But as she looked herself over in the mirror, she felt butterflies in her stomach and a warmth seep into her body. She felt sexy. And she knew John would think so too. He’d expressed to her on several occasions how much he loved her in bright colors. He always said it brought out the color in her tan skin. Looking at herself now…she had to agree with him.

Her long, dark hair was laying in thick waves down her back. The hair held a natural curl so she didn’t have to waste the time fussing with it. Her dark eyes were flanked by equally dark lashes, already dipped in mascara from her morning application. She’d done some touch-ups to her face, but overall, she kept it minimal. The only added flare was the coat of deep red to her full lips. The lipstick was expensive and not one she wore often, but it was the best at staying put. And that quality was going to be needed for what she had planned.

She could hear the conversation starting to wind down on John’s part, so she hurriedly reset her breasts in the cups so that they were practically greeting the room and sprayed a delicate perfume on her neck…one she knew John loved.

“The boys say hi.” John called through the closed bathroom door.

Cat adjusted the lace panties underneath the nightie as she replied. “They almost done with the hunt in Washington?”

She could hear the bed shift and John give a slight groan. He was getting himself comfortable.

“Yeah, Dean said they’re wrapping things up. Should be getting back to town in two days.” He explained with a heaviness to his tone that let Cat know he was tired.

The moment he’d walked in the door that evening she could see the weariness seeping from his pores. His eyes showcased his relief and elation at finally being back home with her, but his body was protesting at the beating he’d put it through. John had opened up to her recently about retiring and she was liking the idea more and more. The man was not getting any younger, and his body seemed to be reminding him of that fact.

“They’re gonna be staying, right? I can get the guest rooms ready.” She suggested, hoping she’d get the chance to offer the boys a few home cooked meals and warm beds before they were off chasing the next ghoul. They may have been grown men, but they were in dire need of a woman’s touch. It was what John had needed too. And she’d been happy to fill that void.

“You know they won’t turn down your cooking.”

The comment made her smile at her reflection. Any time someone complimented her cooking she instantly thought of her mother. The woman had been amazing in the kitchen and it was one of the skills she’d passed on to Cat. She was thankful for it. John and the boys were thankful for the food, but unhappy with the added weight.

“I’ll get to the store tomorrow.” She said, finally ready to make her appearance. She turned to open the door as John began to speak to her again.

“You spoil those boys.”

Cat smiled as she pulled the door open. He’d said that to her many times before and each time she waved him off. He sounded displeased, but she knew better. He loved that she cared for them the way she did…that she took care of them. She loved doing it. And she was happy they even let her do it.

Sam and Dean had been reluctant of hers and John’s relationship at first. The age difference was a point of contention in the beginning. Cat wasn’t much older than Dean. And she wasn’t directly involved in the business of hunting monsters. She and John had met by pure chance and happenstance out in the real world, and not under the cloak of the supernatural. Over the years, the boys had grown to accept her and they were witness to the kind of love each held for the other. It was a love neither son wanted to rob their father of. And Cat was grateful for that.

“Not as much as I spoil you.” Cat stepped into the bedroom, leaning against the wall as John became aware of her presence. His reaction did not disappoint.

“Goddamn…” He breathed out, his voice suddenly an octave lower and laced with grit. It sent shivers up her spine, along with the view he provided. He sat up with his back against the headboard, his chest naked and solid. He wore a pair of navy plaid pajama pants, his legs thrown out in front of him. He was a sizeable man and took up a good portion of the bed. Luckily, she’d splurged for a king. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and the stubble was apparent. It was peppered with gray, the visible sign of his age only making her more attracted to him.

The sight of him looking so relaxed and obviously turned on by her appearance made a slickness start to form in her panties.

“Surprise…” Cat’s already raspy voice sounded husky and filled with lust. John always had a strong effect on her and her body. He knew it too. But the same could be said for him.

He made a move to get up, but Cat held her hand out to stop him.

“Don’t get up...” She started to walk towards him, her bare feet silent on the wood floors. “I’m gonna do all the work tonight, baby.”

He audibly groaned and his hips shifted on the bed, no doubt trying to alleviate the throbbing in his pants. The sight made Cat smirk, her nipples hardening in arousal.

“Is that right?” His lips formed a smirk to mimic her own, his eyes drinking her in as if she were the last sight he’d ever see. He licked his lips and the action sent a jolt straight to her core.

Cat nodded, lifting herself to straddle his lap. John’s hands, as if on instinct, immediately clung to her rounded hips. They started to stray, as they often did when he came into contact with her body. The rough callouses of his fingers and palms glided over her thighs and under the red lace with ease. She squeezed his body between her legs and leaned forward, her hands doing some exploring of their own.

“You look fucking beautiful, baby…” He growled into her neck, his stubble rubbing against her skin deliciously.

Cat’s hand roamed his broad chest, loving the feel of his warmth and masculinity beneath her fingertips. It made her feel innately feminine.

“You like it?” She purred, purposely moving her hips so that she brushed against his very erect dick.

“I fucking do.” He accentuated his statement with a thrust of his hips into her panty covered pussy. The action made the fire inside her accelerate, the flames getting hotter with each passing moment.

“What’s the occasion?” He questioned, pulling back so he could look into her eyes. Cat moved her hands to his shoulders and started to slowly massage the muscles there. He groaned loudly, not at all hiding the fact that his body ached with years of abuse.

“Not one. Just wanted to do something special for you…something to help you relax.” She explained, loving the way he was coming undone under her touch.

His hands gripped her hips harder at the soothing sensations, his eyes drifting closed for a moment before popping open again. Cat loved to stare into his eyes. They were expressive and multi-dimensional, the light always revealing new hints of greens or yellows in the chocolate orbs. He claimed hers were just as dramatic. Claimed that although they were nearly black, they captivated him like a starless night sky. John Winchester was apparently a closet poet.

“That your way of saying I look like shit?”

John’s voice brought her back to the moment and she laughed at his joke. “Hardly. You get more handsome every day.” She playfully teased, though she wasn’t altogether kidding.

“Bullshit.” He retorted, his hands now grabbing at her ass. His fingers dug into the flesh, kneading and massaging with expert precision.

“I can prove it.” Cat baited.

An eyebrow rose in question and he chuckled. “How?”

She didn’t answer. She simply reached for one of his hands and lead it to the junction of her thighs. She encouraged him to pull the red lace aside and feel the evidence of her desire for him. He didn’t even have to insert a finger to feel how wet she’d become. The moisture had started to collect outside her lips; the lace now sodden with arousal.

“Fuck me…” John groaned once he made contact. Cat bit her lip, slowly inching herself down onto his thick finger.

“That’s the idea.”

John tried to insert another finger, but she stopped him. She didn’t need foreplay. Tonight was about him and she’d been away from him too long to need any kind of prepping. She pulled his hand from her panties and shifted down his legs so she could reach the waistband of his pants. He helped her pull the offending garment down and off his legs, throwing the fabric to the floor. He was naked underneath like she knew he’d be. He was hard, his cock curving against is stomach as a dot of white liquid touched the tip. Cat couldn’t help it…she licked her lips in anticipation. John caught the action and gripped the blanket beneath him, his body stiff with untamed lust.

Cat wasted no time in lowering her mouth to him, greedily taking all of him in the first go. His hands tangled in her hair, gripping the strands so that he could clearly see her take his cock down her throat. One of her hands held the base of him while the other teased his sack. He was well-endowed and in the beginning of their relationship Cat had to learn how to accommodate his size and girth.

“Holy shit, baby…”

John’s strangled words made her suck harder, her tongue dancing in the hole at the tip while her hands continued to work in tandem with her mouth. Saliva coated him and gathered around her lips in an obscene manner. She didn’t see any streaks of red on his skin and she thanked the gods of lipstick that hers was lasting.

“Cat, you have to stop…it’s been too long.”

That was the closest anyone could get John Winchester to beg and Cat reveled in that fact. She had the power in her hands and it was currently turning an angry shade of red as it threatened to spill over.

“What do you want, baby?” She asked as she continued to slowly jerk him off. He tried to reach for her, but she was just out of his grasp.

“Let me touch you.”

Cat complied. She sat astride his lap again and let him have full reign of her body. He pulled her in to a deep kiss, tasting himself on her tongue. His hands then cradled her heaving breasts, pushing them together and nipping at the exposed cleavage. Her hands gripped his hair, nails scratching at his scalp as he pulled a red cup down and hungrily sucked at her nipple.

“Oh…” She moaned as he moved to the other one, sucking as if he was a newborn with an appetite. His hips rutted up against her pussy, still seeking release. Cat moved above him, moving her panties to the side to feel his skin against hers.

“Christ…” John growled, caught off guard by the direct contact. His hands shifted the nightie up her curvy form and she caught on to his thoughts quickly. She helped him remove the red lace, revealing her naked breasts to him. He resumed nipping and sucking at her chest, marking her in places that once held his claim but had since faded.

“You feel so good.” Cat whimpered, continuing to slide against him. The first tingling of an orgasm began to take shape. His heavy cock was catching her clit in the most tantalizing way and it was sending her into a haze of pleasure.

“God, I’ve missed you.” He replied, mouth finding hers. Their tongues tangled and twisted, the action just as erotic as what the lower portion of their bodies were doing.

The sounds of their bodies shallowly coupling filled the room. Cat could feel herself getting close. Being without John for three weeks meant her threshold for pleasure was much lower than it usually was. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as he nibbled and sucked at her chest and neck. One of his hand was massaging her breast while the other palmed her ass, aiding her movements on his now soaked cock. She felt the first flutter of her walls and she knew there was no stopping the oncoming swell.

“John…”

“You gonna cum?” He asked somewhat startled and in awe. She nodded, not able to voice it as he moved a thick finger to her clit.

That was all it took. She came against his hand and his cock still nestled between her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord as fireworks went off behind her tightly shut lids. Her fingers were pulling at John’s hair, urging him closer but knowing it was impossible. Her body shook and then moved to tremors as she came down from her high.

“You okay?”

There was a chuckle within those words and Cat smiled up at him as his hands traveled up and down her naked back. She nodded and reached up to kiss him. He met her half way. Even though her body was still sensitive from her first orgasm, she couldn’t help but to move against him again. Her hips shifted and opened to invite him in.

“Help me get rid of these.” She gestured to the pair of panties she still wore. She went to move them down her hips when a ripping sound filled the room instead. Looking down, she could see the lace detach from itself and fall away from her body.

“Not what I had in mind.” Cat teased, throwing the now ruined pair of underwear across the room.

“I’m an impatient man. You know that.” His smile was cocky and full of mirth. It was the way she often liked to think of John. Youthful and full of life, despite what the world had decided to throw at him.

Instead of answering him, she took him in her hand and slowly started to sink down onto his cock. His breathing quickened, his hands back on her hips. She watched his face closely as she took her time, feeling every inch of him slide against her walls. She could feel his impatience in the way he tried to thrust up and move her hips.

“Cat…” He warned, but she didn’t increase her speed. His jaw tightened and his grip was now blissfully painful.

“Catarina…”

Her full name fell from his lips like a psalm and it warmed her from the inside out. She loved hearing John use her full name. It was an aphrodisiac she wasn’t even aware she enjoyed. And she had a feeling he’d figured it out long before she did.

Cat sank down hard and took him all the way in before lifting her hips and repeating the action. She quickened her pace, taking cues from John’s touches and noises. He slid inside her easily, but she could still feel the stretch of her walls from his prolonged absence.

“Fuck…ride me just like that, baby.”

His words made Cat increase her efforts, eager to have him fill her up. She never felt as complete as she did when John’s cum was coating her walls and seeping from her pussy. It was an addicting sensation and one that was hard to duplicate.

She could feel John tense beneath her, but he didn’t allow himself to cum yet. He was prolonging their ends and she was grateful because she had more planned.

“I wanna try something different.” Cat gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot deep inside her. She slowed her movements, aware that he was clenching his jaw at her sudden change in pace. But his eyes bore into her and reflected the newfound interest she’d sparked in him.

“Yeah?” He questioned, a boyish grin now clearly present on his face.

“You just lean back and enjoy…Daddy.”

The word had the desired effect. John’s eyes turned nearly black and his face hardened, the lust taking on a different tone now. Cat raised herself on her knees and let his cock slip from inside her. Their combined juices left a mess between them, but neither cared. She began to shift herself so that she now faced away from him in reverse cowgirl.

“Shit,” John breathed as she resituated herself in his lap and started to take him back inside her. Cat leaned forward between his spread legs to give him the perfect view of her pussy swallowing his cock. He loved it. And she knew that because she felt him twitch inside her as his hands spread her ass cheeks further apart.

“You look fucking perfect like this.”

A large hand came down hard on her ass and she moaned, instantly fluttering her walls at the sensation. His hand smoothed over the now heated flesh before he did it again with the same result. Her body felt like every nerve ending was immersed in pleasure and that it was going to explode at any moment. The thought of John being so turned on seemed to kick her arousal into overdrive.

“Fuck…your pussy takes my cock so good, baby girl.”

His words incited a hunger in her that begged to be satisfied. Cat wanted to, no, needed to feel him empty himself deep within her. Needed to feel how much he missed her; how much he loved her. Her hips moved sensually above him, ensuring he felt every pulse and tightening of her pussy around him. The sounds of their bodies meeting were loud and crude, the noises only spurring her on further.

“I’m gonna cum.”

The phrase was said through gritted teeth and she doubled her efforts. She felt him start to tense beneath her as his hands gripped her ass roughly. She rubbed at her clit and could feel the familiar tingles shoot through her limbs again. She moved until she felt that first rope of white heat enter up into her. The action caused her body to spasm around him, accepting and taking as much as he could give. Her eyes closed and she became hyper-focused on the sensations filling her body. Her orgasm washed over her like an aggressive wave on the ocean. It pulled her under and refused to let her surface.

She remained unmoving as John coated her walls and released grunts and groans that sounded so primal they threatened to make her cum again. His body went lax as his breathing started to slow, his cock only softening somewhat after the release. Cat looked over her shoulder to see John’s eyes hooded and heavy from residual desire and exhaustion. She bit her lip and slowly began to lift her hips.

“Open those eyes, baby…I wanna show you something.” She softly demanded, enjoying the way he obeyed without question.

Her pussy slowly released him from her channel, the appendage landing with a heavy thud against his lower stomach. His cum leaked from her lips instantly and dripped down their sweat coated bodies. He’d cum a lot…and it showed.

“Jesus…” John said huskily, a touch of awe present in his voice.

Cat felt his finger trace her sensitive lips. The action caused her to flinch and whimper, the sensation almost unbearable. She shifted her hips back down to his, rubbing herself sensuously along his semi-soft cock. Their mixed fluids aided her movements and she slowly took the head of him back inside her.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, Catarina.”

She giggled lazily, amused by his overstimulated brain and body. “I could think of worse ways to go.”

“Fuck,” He drawled as he watched her start to take his cock again, his cum coating them both. “You’re lucky I love you.” He said with a groan that sounded like agony but Cat knew to be euphoria.

“Mmm…love you too.” She said between a hum and a gasp, her body not skipping a beat as it resumed its glorious torture on the man below her.

John Winchester’s latest homecoming was enough to consider another three-week stint.

#john winchester #john winchester fic #john winchester x ofc #supernatural fic #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

128 notes · View notes

tinylilemrys · 6 years ago

Text

Blue - a Widojest fic

Read it on AO3

Rating: G

Word Count: 1696

Summary: Caleb has a favourite colour.

Tags: Fluff, Caleb watches Jester paint, Jester surprises him, Campaign 2 spoilers

A/N: I know I'm one of like five people that ship this, but they're both just so goddamn adorable that they pulled me out of my writing slump, so I owe them a lot.

Caleb has always been partial to the colour blue. As a child of the Empire, who rarely saw the sky beyond the grey clouds obscuring it most of the time, it had always instilled a sort of hope that there was more. Somehow, despite everything, something good would break through.

He couldn't have ever imagined being surrounded by quite this much of it. It stretches all the way across the sky, broken only by the occasional wisp of cloud. It lays spread out around the ship on all sides, broken only by the bright skittering reflection of the sun.

It also sits a few feet away from him on the deck, painting, wearing an endearing expression midway between concentration and bliss.

Caleb sinks further back into the shadow he's using as protection, heeding Fjord's warnings about the sun and pale skin, and steals glances at her over the top of the book he was only barely reading anyway. He can't help but smile at the way she has completely commandeered the left staircase to the forecastle, spreading out her painting implements so that attempting to pass that way would require quite the display of acrobatics. He knows she doesn't mean to and if anyone asked her to move, she would immediately and without question. This is just how she is when she starts creating.

As much as Jester is still a mystery to him in many ways, one thing he has learned in the times he has surreptitiously watched her painting or drawing is that she doesn't guard herself as much when she's concentrating on what she's making. And just how he sometimes finds himself mulling things over while poring over his well-read spell tomes, Caleb suspects this is when she does much of her reflecting and processing.

He finds the way she uses blue fascinating. Where Caleb finds solace and calm in the colour, Jester paints with it matter-of-factly, as if it is a necessary part of creating what she wants to create, but is not all that fazed by it. He supposes that as much as he is still excited to see so much blue, Jester has had no short supply of it her entire life, and it probably just doesn't hold the same interest for her.

By contrast, she has made it no secret that she loves the colour pink. It is embellished on her dress; it is the colour she requested Pumat Sol change her magical haversack; it is the colour of her spiritual weapon. The bright pink she favours is not a common colour in the natural world, so when she gets to paint with it, Caleb sees the faint smile on her face.

Caleb is grateful that it was probably too dark to see the pink of his cheeks after Jester heroically saved him from his feigned heart attack last night.

She seems to take as much joy from the colour yellow - swirling the brush around her page in bright happy strokes that bring to Caleb's mind the golden wildflowers that grew in the fields around his childhood village. It also briefly brings to mind the blazing gold of the fire that consumed his home, but he shakes his head clear.

He won't think about that now.

Jester paints her greens with relish, and Caleb finds the same unfamiliar and unwelcome sinking feeling in his stomach he feels whenever he sees her chancing glances at Fjord when she thinks no one is looking. She has known him the longest out of everyone and as such Caleb knows it makes far more sense for her attentions to be caught by him than any other member of the party, but some dark primal part of him simmers with frustration nonetheless.

He also knows what that probably means and he refuses to think about that either.

Caleb's heart catches as her hand hesitates over the purple for a moment or two before she picks it up. Molly's passing still hangs heavily over their party and he knows it weighs on Fjord, Yasha and Jester especially. However unfounded the idea, he knows that they believe themselves partially responsible for his passing and though he has been consistent in his reminders that they are not to blame for what happened, he also knows what it is to have guilt eat away at the heart day after day. She closes her eyes for a moment as if in prayer before dipping her brush into the pot.

When she reaches for the red paint, he knows he's not imagining the small tears that pool briefly before she takes a deep breath and shakes them away. He feels a pang of regret on her behalf. She should have had more time with her mother and would have if not for the circumstances getting away from them. He makes a silent vow that he will help clear her name in Nicodranas so that the next time they visit, she will be able to have as much time with her mother as she wants.

He tells himself that this is something he would do for any of his friends, but he knows that it's a bit truer for her, which is an unsettling thought.

When she reaches for her pot of orange, Caleb is surprised that she looks up at him. Their eyes meet and, panicked, Caleb immediately buries his nose in his book. Though he had tried to avert them as quickly as possible, it wasn't fast enough to miss the surprise on Jester's face that their eyes had locked at all.

There's a beat or two of awkward silence before he hears her giggle slightly.

"Caaaleb, were you watching me?"

"No," he lies, desperately scrambling for any excuse. "I was just taking a pause between paragraphs to reflect on what I'd just read and happened to look at you just as you looked at me."

"Okay, if you say so," she says in that sing-song voice that should be annoying, but that tugs at the corners of his mouth and the edges of his heart every time. "I wouldn't blame you if you were though. I did save your life last night like the amazing and powerful cleric I am."

He knows he's blushing now and he damns his pale complexion for making it impossible to hide.

"Thanks again, Jester. I do appreciate it."

She looks as if she wants to say something more, but bites down on it with a smile and turns her attention back to her artwork instead. Caleb stares back down at his book, not daring to place his eyes anywhere else, though completely unable to absorb any of the words there. He can hear the blood in his ears coursing in time with the thudding of his heart, and knows that the heat creeping up his neck has little to do with the warm sun above him.

This is very much not good.

A few minutes pass in which Caleb tries and fails to continue his book, wondering if Jester's eyes are on him, and at times almost feeling them there, though he can't bring himself to look up and test this theory, which is why he jumps a few moments later when he feels the book being tugged down to reveal Jester, now on her knees right in front of him.

"Caleb, are you sure you’ve been keeping out of the sun like Fjord warned? You're looking pretty red right now." Her eyes are alight with mischief and he knows she's teasing him as he finds she is she is wont to do. "The sun can be really bad for you, you know."

"I have been trying to be careful as far as possible, but thank you for the reminder."

He wishes the wood below him would give way so that he could fall through it and escape this embarrassment.

"You're welcome," she grins. "You know, I'm glad you decided to go back to reading because otherwise you might have spoiled the surprise."

"The surprise?" Caleb asks. He blames the salt in the air for his impossibly dry mouth.

"The surprise," she says dramatically, bringing her hand out from behind her back and handing Caleb a small scrap of parchment on which she has painted the perfect likeness of Frumpkin in his cat form. Caleb's eyes widen in shock and he finds, despite the warm air, his hands are shaking slightly.

He doesn't know what to say and he can see something in her expression falter as he sits in stunned silence.

"Yeah, you know, I thought it was really kind of you to let Beau have Frumpkin for a while after losing Professor Thaddeus, and I know how much you like having him as a cat, so I thought I'd make you something that you can look at in those times when he's not around or he's being another creature. Do you... do you like it?"

"Like it? Jester, I... I don't know what to say. This is the nicest gift I have ever been given. Thank you very much."

He dares to look into her eyes then and for once it seems she is as caught off guard as he is most of the time around her. She blinks a moment later, however, and her face returns to its usual jovial state.

"You're welcome," she says, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek and where her lips touch blazes furiously.

She bounds off to gather her paints a moment later and with one last brilliant smile, she turns briefly back to Caleb.

"The paint is still drying so you should be careful with it for the next while or else it will get all smudgy."

And then she disappears below deck, leaving Caleb in stunned silence once more.

He spends the longest time staring down at the painting, memorising the brush strokes, marveling at the way what looked like chaos earlier is now cohesive and beautiful.

When he's sure that the paint is dry, he tucks his gift carefully between the pages of the small book he keeps in his breast pocket.

The sky has never been so blue.

#widojest #caleb widogast #jester lavorre #jester x caleb #help #I ship it so much

142 notes · View notes

thewhiterabbit42 · 6 years ago

Text

Full Circle: Part 7

Full Circle Masterlist

Pairing: Gabriel x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings/Tags: Winchester sister!reader, angst, revelations, more swears

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be the final chapter, but there was a natural break in the flow of things so there will be one more after this one. Also, the second GMC prompt was designed to fit into this chapter: Sometimes when you least expect it, you get saved.

Special thanks to @nobodys-baby-now for keeping me excited about my writing and all her awesome love today around this fic. BB I love you <3

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission. Giving credit does NOT count. Reblogging is ok.***

<<Prev Chapter Part 7

Sometimes when you least expect it, you get saved, but it wasn’t always by the ones who should have been helping you.

“Where the hell were you?” You demanded as Cas and Gabriel appeared back in sight, your eyes blazing as you pinned the former with a dangerous look.

You had no idea where Cas’ ass had been that entire time. The moment Raphael had returned you had prayed for help, knowing the look on Gabriel’s face had not been a sign this was a happy family reunion.

Yet, your friend never came.

He never came when you told him you were face to face (or more accurately, neck to hand) with an archangel who looked seriously intent on taking a chunk out of you.

He never came when you felt a part of you being carved out as Raphael forced his grace inside you, the electrifying, detached energy tearing through your very being and making you feel as if you were being split into a million pieces.

He never came when desperation choked the words in your throat as Gabriel was pummeled with the holy light of heaven’s purest bedtime prayers, or whatever the shit smites were made out of.

And he certainly never came when you had a goddamn gun pressed against your head. Though you might have been beyond coherent thought at that point. Still, your connection to 1-800-dial-an-angel should have kept your so-called friend informed of your ongoing situation, which involved the most elevated level of fear you’d felt since you’d all gone toe-to-toe with the devil.

So when things escalated once again, and you found yourself hip deep in winged dicks with awful odds, you sent up the prayer of all prayers. So help me, Cas, if Gabriel dies because you bailed on me, I have at least a dozen ideas on how to deal with you, all of which involve the business end of an angel blade.

It was a little dramatic, sure, but Gabriel was not dying. Not here. Not again, and especially not because of you. Cas was lucky you didn’t stab him on sight after the smite-fest Gabriel endured. The only reason you weren’t roasting some feathers and letting the archangel bring the marshmallows was because the seraphim had pulled through for you at the last moment.

It didn’t make you any less angry at him, however.

“I came as soon as I could,” Cas informed you, a little testier than usual. A red flag popped up in the back of your mind, waving casually back and forth. Why he, of all things this evening, would be the one to trigger it was beyond you.

Unfortunately it was like waving red at an already raging bull.

“Well it wasn’t soon enough,” you hissed as you jabbed him hard in the chest. How dare he sound put out after what you and Gabriel had gone through.

He brought his hand up, fingertips brushing gently against your side. Coldness washed outward from his touch, and you shuddered as his grace pushed through your skin. It wasn’t an inherently unpleasant sensation, but after Raphael’s invasion, feeling any of them beneath your skin was disconcerting.

He must have been searching for wounds, and his eyes narrowed intently when he didn’t find any. He must have taken a moment to slip in a little mojo sedative, however. At least you assumed he did, by the way you were no longer considering the best place to stab him that wasn’t guaranteed to kill him, but still might.

“And you,” you said, rounding on the archangel and giving him a poke of his own. “You need to look up the definition of stupid.”

“Glad to see you too, babycakes,” he said, sarcasm splashing through words, though the smile he gave appeared to be genuine. You could tell by the way his dimples appeared. Usually those made whatever he was trying to achieve that much more successful, but you were having none of that right now, no matter how endearing he looked.

“We should leave this place,” Cas interjected eyes glancing around warily.

That was the best plan you’d heard all night.

The angel didn’t even wait for you to agree. He grabbed you both by the shoulders, and your stomach lurched as a familiar rush whooshed through you. You weren't sure you’d ever get used to that feeling. It was like riding the world’s longest roller coaster in the span of a second.

It took a moment for your head to catch up, but once it did, you found yourself back in your hotel room. Everything from the candles to the balloons had disappeared, leaving no evidence of the evening’s previous events. Gabriel eyed the room warily, no doubt sweeping it for signs of danger. Cas, on the other hand, just eyed him.

“Our father could not have brought you back at a better time,” the dark-haired angel said.

Then there was that little matter. Raphael had prattled on and on about the heaven’s burning, about war, taking sides, paradise. For a little while you had forgotten what year you were in, because it sounded awfully like the apocalypse was still on the agenda despite your family having put the kibosh on it.

“Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on upstairs?” You demanded, arms folding over your chest.

“We are at war,” Cas began. “When Sam took Michael to the cage with him, Raphael stepped in to take his place as Heaven’s leader. He, like his brother, is a traditionalist and believes that the story must end the way that it was written.”

You swallowed. Your cup was feeling awfully full at the moment. You weren’t sure you could handle being told all those sacrifices had been for nothing, in addition to dealing with the rest of the crazy that was flying around.

“Are you saying… it isn’t over?” Your voice had gotten quiet, nervousness edging into your words.

“If I have any say in it, it is,” he promised. “There are others like me who believe we have the right to choose our own ending and that is why we’re fighting. For your freedom and ours.”

Not just a war. Cas’ war.

No wonder he’d vanished. The man was carrying the fate of Heaven and Earth on his shoulders.

“You’re the one leading the resistance?” Gabriel demanded, and you weren’t sure what was more surprised, the angel or his eyebrows with how they nearly shot clear off his browline. “Way to go, little bro.”

You slowly lowered yourself onto the dresser, giving your mind a moment to catch up. Your brain took in the new information, kicking it around for a few moments, before throwing up its hands and reminding you this was all way above your pay grade.

Your hand slipped into your coat pocket, fingers tracing over the contour of your cell before you realized you only had one person left that you could call. Bobby was as much your family as your brothers, but it wasn’t his voice that was going to keep you from getting caught in the ever increasing riptide. Dean was the only one left who knew how to bring you back from the brink, and he was no longer an option.

“You alright, cupcake?” Gabriel asked, sitting down next to you. The subtle brush of fingers across your back brought more comfort than you wanted to admit. You looked over, surprised to find his features heavily shuttered.

A guarded archangel was never a good sign.

“Yeah, just…” You paused, hair on the back of your arms rising. Unconsciously you reached up to your neckline, tugging on your sweater. Was the room getting smaller? Because it felt like everything around you was suddenly shrinking. You forced yourself to take a breath, focusing on the way your heart responded to the slow inhalation before you released it normally.

“It’s a lot to take in,” you finished, your chest feeling heavy, as if there wasn’t much air to take in at all. Your phone became forgotten as a dissonance danced along your spine, sending signals to your muscles to stiffen. Your nerves tingled as if you were back in that tiny interrogation room, your mind trying to rectify the difference between what you felt and the spacious accommodations you saw.

“Understandably so,” Cas said sympathetically, though his compassion fell short, overlooking the tension tightening your frame as he continued to vomit Heaven’s issues all over you. “You should know, however, that things are not going well. Strategically we have the advantage, but we are outnumbered. All Raphael has to do is outlast us. We need something to give us an edge, something to turn the tide enough to break his ranks or take him out of play.”

“Like another archangel.” Gabriel said flatly.

“An archangel would be helpful,” Cas admitted, “But that is your decision to make, brother.”

While it didn’t surprise you that the the third member of Team Free Will would advocate for just that, Gabriel seemed suspicious. Considering the last few encounters he’d had with his family, you couldn’t blame him.

By the way Cas turned to you and said, “It is your help I really need,” you would have thought he’d had the sense smited out of him earlier, because what in the Virgin Mary’s pure and pious pants were you supposed to do about anything?

“And in turn,” the seraphim went on, as if making complete sense, “I would be able to help you.”

Hope sparked fierce in your chest, burning through the oxygen in your lungs, and for a moment you couldn’t breath. It no longer mattered what it was he thought you could offer or that you knew better than to make deals with otherworldly beings. This was the break you were waiting for.

“You found a way to get Sam out?” You almost hadn't dared to ask. A let down of that magnitude after everything else would be crushing, and you weren’t certain you had enough left in you to survive that.

Your friend paused a moment, his eyes narrowing on you.

“Sam has been free for months now,” he told you, features becoming a contrast of hard edges and sympathetic blue orbs. “I thought you knew.”

Free? Sam was free? How the shit could that be possible?

“That - that can’t be right.” You almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Sam couldn’t be out. If there was anyone he would have called, it would have been you. He would have called somebody.

Unless... it wasn’t Sam that crawled out of there.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say except that he is, and it is him,” he continued as if reading your thoughts. Any other angel you would have suspected, but it was Cas. He must have known that’s where your mind would go. Besides, he knew better.

But if you could trust him, then that meant…

“Oh my god,” you breathed.

Somebody was in for a royal ass kicking as soon as you found him.

Your shoulders hunched, your body giving beneath the weight of all the knowledge suddenly spinning around in your head. You were thankful to be already sitting as you felt the strength leave your system. The blows just kept coming, and at this rate it wouldn’t be long before your brain was completely beaten to a stump.

Your pocket began to buzz, the furious movement causing you to jump as the vibrations danced across your leg. You pulled it out to find Bobby’s name flashing across the front of the screen.

A thought, unbidden, skittered across your consciousness: what if Cas wasn’t the only one who knew?

You immediately dismissed the notion as crazy.This was Bobby. He wouldn’t keep something like this from you. Yet, you couldn’t help but answer the call, vaguely aware of something shifting in the angel’s stare.

“Christ on a cracker,” Bobby grumbled, exasperation adding an extra bite to his words, “What the hell is your --”

“Is Sam out?” You cut him off, desperation infringing on the even tone you tried to keep. You weren’t sure what answer you needed to hear more at the moment: your brother was alive or your personal circle of trust was still in tact.

The silence that followed told you all you needed to know.

“You mean he still hasn’t told you?” Bobby asked, just as taken aback as you were. Your heart dropped deep within your stomach. You suddenly felt sick, disbelief preventing you from reacting right away and a pregnant, laden silence fell between you.

“Fuck, Bobby!” You finally found your voice, though it grew thick as the floodgates reopened. You wanted to cry. You wanted to celebrate. You wanted to scream at Bobby and your brother for joining the running for douche of the year because what the actual shit?

“Why do you think I’ve been calling so much? To schedule tea?” He retorted.

“How long?” You demanded, proud of how you managed to keep your voice from wavering despite the stinging sentiments gathering along your lashline.

“I dunno… five months?” He had the decency to sound chagrined, but it was lost within the rising tide of your anger.

Five months.

Five fucking months without a word from either of them.

“Listen, kid, this isn’t the type of thing you just drop in a voicemail…”

Oh yes it fucking was. That was exactly what you did after the first few days. That or you GPSd their ass and showed up on their doorstep, which was exactly what Dean would’ve done in this situation.

Oh God, Dean. Did he know?

No. There was no way. He would never have kept that information from you.

Then again, five minutes ago you would have said the said the same thing about Sam and Bobby.

“Dean?” You couldn’t fully say it, as if somehow not breathing life into the fear would somehow prevent it from ever being true.

“I may be an idjit, but I’m not an ass,” he grumbled.

Well that was certainly debatable.

Relief swept in, brushing aside the dread that had overtaken everything.

“He deserves to know,” you insisted, fingers digging into your eyes as you realized you would have to be the one to tell him. More than just the news was going to get broken if Bobby was the one delivering the message.

“What that kid deserves is a chance to be normal. Happy. Not to die bloody and alone, like the rest of us will.” You were taken back by the vehemence in his tone and you couldn’t remember the last time he sounded so fired up about anything. “And if it were up to me, your life wouldn’t be any different.”

Was he asking you to do what you thought he was?

“But I know you,” he continued, a deep-seated weariness entering his voice. “I know what runs in your blood won’t ever settle for normal. But you of all people know, choosing this life means sacrificing to protect the ones who are normal, and as far as I’m concerned, Dean’s one of those people now.”

Christ, you couldn’t touch this right now. You couldn’t even begin to know what you were going to do with the knowledge that Sam was alive and Dean didn’t know. Your cup was no longer overflowing, it had overflowed, tipped over, and you were all but drowning in the liquid that continued to spill out from it.

“I’ll call you back,” you managed, your inner reserves flagging. You didn’t give him the chance to say anything else before you disconnected the call. Your finger dug into the power button, pressing against it insistently, and you resisted the urge to throw the damn thing across the room.

If only you could make the rest of your problems disappear that easily.

Your head dropped forward, fingers gripping the edge of the dresser, and you did your best to contain your emotions. As it was, the only thing you seemed able to hold in at the moment was the air in your lungs.

“Breathe,” Gabriel reminded after a few moments, gently squeezing your shoulder. You brought your hands up, palming at your eyes as you felt a few tears squeeze their way loose.

“You’re upset,” Cas’ gruff voice moved closer to you.

“I’m exhausted,” you told him, weariness weighing down your words. “I had the worst sleep of my life this morning, I woke up feeling like I’d been on the receiving end of a good smite, and returned to a place I never wanted to set foot in again, twice, because someone decided to drop a crumb for me to follow without telling me it led to the middle of a fucking angel war and that my brother has been out of the cage for months now.”

“I don’t understand. How does a fragment of food lead to anything other than bugs?” Cas asked, perplexed.

You looked up, glaring at him through a thin curtain of hair. You might have laughed if you weren’t so done with everything.

“The news story story, Cas,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. Hard.

“What story?” He asked, confused.

“What do you mean what story?” The sound of your patience finally snapping came out as a snarl in your throat. “I prayed to you in Massachusetts and you put on the local news for Indiana in my hotel room so I would know there was a powersurge and check it out.”

“I was never in your hotel room,” he told you. “I heard your prayer, but I was in the middle of battle and couldn’t respond.”

You swallowed, both you and Cas’ shifting your gazes to Gabriel.

“Don’t look at me,” the archangel said, putting his hands up in front of him. “If I’d have been there, I’d have sent you in the opposite direction.”

Said the man who had been horribly desperate to get into your pants not even an hour ago.

There were shit ways to be told you were just a mistake and then, apparently, there was Gabriel’s way.

“Your inner archangel is showing,” you told him, anger varnishing your sarcasm as your stare began to burn. “You may want to look into that.”

He stiffened at the remark, eyes darting briefly to the other angel then back to you. You expected some flippant comment, maybe a smart ass retort that was also somehow endearing. His silence, however, spoke volumes.

“It must have been Raphael. He must have followed you here,” Cas interrupted, concern spilling over into his voice.

“Why the hell would Raphael be following me?” You rounded on him. You were sick of being left in the dark about things, and you had a distinct feeling there was far more of Heaven’s problems spilling onto you than anyone had let on.

Then again, you were also sick of this night and wanted nothing more than for it to just be over.

“Because, like your brothers, you were meant to fulfill a greater purpose. While they were meant to bring about war, you, I believe, are a catalyst to do the opposite,” your friend explained. By the look on his face, he was gearing up for something. Something that was likely to make your brain fall in on itself. Something you guaranteed you neither had the time nor patience for.

“Wait, what?” Gabriel broke in, as if that was the last piece of insanity he could handle.

“Cas, I - I can’t even right now,” you warned, putting up a hand for him to stop.

“What I’m about to tell you is important —”

“I mean it,” you continued, ignoring the manic light blazing within blue. Not now.

Either your friend was especially oblivious to the level of your distress, or he simply didn’t care. He grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to hear out this final piece of information.

“Y/n… you’re a shepherd.”

All tags are open to anyone 18+. Send me an ask / message with your age if you'd like to be added!

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @ @li0nh34rt @baritonechick, @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met @blondecoffeecake @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @the-moose-of-baskerville @tistai @room-with-a-cat @authoressskr @revwinchester @flufy07 @greieba @whinywingedwinchester @tardis-is-mine @jadesid @ccasnovak @tangle-of-ivy @nnegann @mrswhozeewhatsis @protectivedestiel @angelofwinchester17 @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-assgard @phantomwarrior12 @deaths-maiden @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @jeanjeaniethings

Gabe Squad:

@theblackenedsky @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @lacqueluster @samikitten @a-vast-african-plain @kazosa @carryon-wayward-winchester @nobodys-baby-now @acarpouschimerical @ludwigs-a-monster @archangelgabriellives @a-wing-and-a-pen @tricksterxangel @cipherwheeldecoder @gilded-lady @thinkwritexpress-official @megasimpleplan4ever @azlinh @troubletrumble @nuvoleincielo @randommotions @the-bleeding-rose @fruitiplierq @gabrielthemessanger @pizzamanteachings @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @spnimpalaimagines @koithings @booknerd1324 @the-kryomancer @rachdubs @thislittlewhitelight @hiddles-and-skittles @karichanarts @sherlockedtash88 @multy-fandom-lover @archangelashiah @calamitychaos @brighter-daes @amandaecrn @onlyanothersocialcasualty @samaxraph99 @bepandahalf @gabriel-deserved-better

Full Circle: @melodymishahiddlestan @gabe-crowley-trash @the-chick-with-the-best-fandom

#gabriel x reader #gabriel #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #reader insert #rabbit writes #Full Circle

105 notes · View notes