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biorusted · 4 years ago

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Precipice (Or: I could love you)

Out of the depths of my brine pool I come baring an actual, honest to God fanfic. And a smut one at that. 2020 is full of surprises.

Thank you @soulswimmr keeping my soul tethered to this mortal plane and for prof reading this fic.

Fandom: Satan and Me -- Pairing: GabeMike -- Words: 5510 (and no its not 10 pages of intercourse there are other things that happen)

If I had a AO3 account I would tag this fic as: Explicit! Panic attack tw, anxiety and depression tw, messy feelings, Hurt/Comfort, porn with plot, First times, cis gay sex, under negotiated kinks, (as in *slaps roof of fanfic* this baby can fit SO MUCH under negotiated kinks) light Bondage, light impact play, Dom/Sub tendencies, aftercare. yeehaw.

Summery: Michael accidentally confesses his love to Gabriel. Putting it lightly, it doesnt go well. But then Gabe shows up later that day and makes amends. (they boink)

Edit - 9/29 (michaelmas) Added a NSFW pic inspired by the fic (at the bottom)

Michael had no idea how he got here.

Well, no, of course he did; he was there when it happened. But to say that the day began with him nearly falling over the edge into despair to having Gabriel grinding up against him, pressing hot kisses to his neck and chest, toying with his body… well no one could have possible seen that coming. Except God, but he wasn’t really thinking of Him at this time.

Theres no way to track how This started. It could go back way before the Fall, to when Michael was first discovering that he liked Gabriel more than others. But that was normal, right? People had their favorites so why was this any different? Just because he leaned in closer whenever Gabriel spoke, or found him smiling like the sun whenever Gabe leaned up against him while they were on break, didn’t mean it was anything special. Besides, Gabriel had Anthea. Gabriel didn’t know he had Anthea at first, but Michael wasnt that blind. So he didn’t say anything to dissuade Gabriel from going after her. He didn’t encourage it either, though. Even after the Fall, he didn’t say anything, he himself just lost Lucifer so any chastising or encouragement would have been hypocritical, but eventually he’d thought that Gabriel would let go of her.

He never did though. And Michael never got rid of his feeling for Gabriel either. It grew, in fact. Slowly, like a vine coming around to choke the statues in the gardens, wholly unnoticed until there is nothing to do about it. Every laugh, ever tired roll of the eyes, every unexpected yawn would bring about a new leaf that would suffocate Michael if he wasn’t already doing everything he could to push his feelings down. He didn’t have time for whatever he felt for Gabriel. There were things to do on the surface, troops to train in Heaven and he, being the one on the pedestal, had to be perfect. And feelings were messy.

The point is, as much as he wanted to run his fingers through Gabriel’s curly red hair and kiss him on warm summer nights, he couldn’t do it. Would never do it.

And then the prophecy child came along. The end officially started, Michael got stabbed by his sister, contracted to a human, poisoned by his brother, sold off as a bartering chip to War, lost his physician, pulled some strings and brought a spirit back to earth, pulled some more strings to keep Gabriel from getting to irreversible trouble (but still had him sent to the tank for two weeks), finally saw God after years of radio silence, met his literal doppelganger, got formerly-mentioned-brother’s wings sent to him as sick gift and, quite frankly, was at the end of his rope. Everything was just happening too fast and no one seemed to care. The air was tight whenever he was with the other Archangels. It felt like he didn’t really know any of them anymore. Not even Gabriel, though his heart begged for that not to be the case.

Oh, right. Anthea had also died. So there’s that too. See? Messy.

All of that was basically to say, that when Gabriel made the snide comment that he, Michael, couldn’t possible know what it was like to truly love someone other than himself (which wasn’t even true, Michael did, in fact, hate himself immensely) Michael wasn’t planning to confirm or deny it. However, after the initial shock – Did Gabriel really think him that heartless? – and feeling everyone’s eyes on him – all the other archangels were in the room, plus some other guards – he did answer. It came out like a holy confession, a whisper accompanied by searing hot tears.

I love you. He said.

Michael couldn’t breathe in the silence that followed, which made Gabriel’s laugh, a cruel sounding thing, even harder to take. Michael choked on air and when Gabriel turned to leave, but when he made to follow, maybe to explain himself more? To apologize? Anything but be alone with his thoughts or worse, alone in a room full of people, Gabriel slapped him.

Gabriel said something to him, but he didn’t catch it. All he felt was stinging on his cheek and embarrassment crushing his chest. Michael didn’t know how long he stood there, cradling his face and trying to think, but not comprehending anything around him, but eventually his brain caught up and he realized he did not want to be in that room right then. So, he ran.

Raphael had taught him some breathing techniques to help with panic attacks, but he couldn’t remember them. He guessed he actually had to breathe for them, which he wasn’t doing. All he was doing was sitting in a ball on the floor of his room trying to crush his feeling out. How typical of him, really, to fuck everything up. Now what? He had just cut ties with the only other person he felt a true connection with and now he was well and truly going to die lonely when The End came. That was always the plan; a murder suicide with Lucifer, but he’d thought there would be some pride when he went? Someone who he was fighting for? He didn’t know. He did know it was all his fault. Everything was his fault, no matter who he assigned blame to.

When he finally stopped crying, Michael sat very still. The apathy that came after such a strong release was always welcome. He breathed. And then he got up, washed his face and then went to his personal office to get some work done. He was nothing if not a good angel. Perfect in the eyes of the public.

Numb to everything that wasn’t directly in front of him, Michael actually got a lot done. The shuffling of paper and scratching of his pen was a pleasant relief compared to the chaos of his own thoughts that he was used to. He didn’t even hear the door to his office open, didn’t feel the presence of someone else in the room until they came to where he was organizing paperwork into the proper bins and gently grabbed both of his arms.

Oh, Michael could recognize Gabriel’s hands anywhere. They were hands he trusted completely with everything from a nice manicure to executing an offender of the faith. The only problem was he didn’t know what Gabriel was going to do with those hands. So, he stood completely still at Gabriel’s mercy for the second time that day.

“Turn around.” Gabriel said, taking the rest of the files from Michael and tossing them out of reach. Michael couldn’t discern anything from his voice, really only comprehending that he was very close to his ears, so, he did what he was told.

“Look at me.” he said next, as Michael found the trinkets on his desk a better study. When he didn’t listen, Gabe let go of the shelving he was pining him to and put one hand on the side of his face. It didn’t take a lot of pressure to tilt his head so their eyes met. It frightened Michael to see how stormy Gabriel’s eyes were. Dark, alluring, and troubled were not something he’d normally say about Gabriel, but now only those words applied. There was something else too, his jaw was clenched, as if he were holding his tongue, or arguing with himself.

Michael never got the chance to ask about it, because Gabriel leaned in, parted his lips, closed his eyes and kissed him. The fog of apathy flushed out of him immediately and he felt everything; the warmth of Gabe’s hands on his cheek, the way his other hand lifted from the table and came to rest on his waist, the smooth silk of his own clothes against his body, heat coming from everywhere and, oh lord, his lips. The clouds couldn’t compare to the softness of Gabe’s lips on his, he could spend an eternity in this moment and it would never be enough.

The kiss (they’re first kiss), of course, did not last an eternity. It was only when Gabe moved away from him that Michael realized he didn’t close his eyes, or move towards him or do… anything. Kisses always looked magnetic, so why didn’t it fix everything between them? Michael felt a knot forming in his stomach and it only grew heavier as Gabe opened his eyes to gauge his reaction.

They were still standing so close that their breaths were shared. So, Michael only had to whisper when he said;

“I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to?” Gabe quipped back, tilting his head to the side. He was being completely serious.

“Wh-What?” He really wished his eyes were the bright emerald green they were usually.

Gabe’s grip on Michael’s waist tightened and the storm behind his eyes grew. “Do you want to understand?”

Of course he did. His cheek still burned from where Gabe hit him and the shaking anxiety from his panic attack never left completely, if he understood then maybe they really could make this work. Whatever this could be. Or he could fuck it up.

“No.” He said, and closed the gap between them.

Almost immediately he was shoved back into the shelving with Gabe’s hands clawing at his skin and teeth biting his lips. Heat rushed through his entire body as Gabe pressed up against him, ground up against him leaving his full intent out into the open.

God, since when could he move like that? Michael thought as he opened his mouth and let Gabriel’s tongue meet his own. Gabe’s piercing clicked on his teeth, setting off another wave of heat down his spine. He’d always wondered what it would be like to feel Gabe’s piercing in his mouth. One of his own hands slipped behind Gabe’s chiton and laid flat against his chest while the other raked through his hair. He almost wished Gabriel hadn’t cut his hair short, he would have love to pull on the curls, but the deep moan that came out of him made up for it.

Gabriel’s tongue was on his lips, and then his lips were on his jaw, kissing a line up and then down his neck, Michael could barely catch his breath, the way he gasped at every press of his mouth on sensitive skin. Even when Gabe slowed down to focus on a spot at the base of his neck, Michael didn’t complain, especially as Gabe’s leg pressed in between his own. Michael didn’t realize how hot his body felt, certainly didn’t realize how hard he was, how hard both of them were, but it was all he could think about as Gabe’s hands slid lower and started groping his ass, gathering the fabric of his skirt between his fingers.

Humans always made this stuff look strange, Michael didn’t get all the moaning and begging and crying out. The ‘losing control’ part never made sense to him either, but there was nothing controlled about the sounds he made now; broken whispers begging to be understood as wanting more. He wanted more of this, whatever this ended up being and he wanted Gabriel there to guide him through it all.

Naturally, that’s when Gabriel pulled away. Michael didn’t think he could fall for him anymore, but the vines he always compared his love to bloomed in such a vivid way. The messed up hair, the dilated pupils, the reddened lips, the way he dragged his eyes down every inch of him; it could have destroyed him and made him whole all at once.

“Tonight.” Gabe said. “I’ll meet you in your room.” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a statement either.

“Yes.” He nodded, but when he felt Gabriel leaning away from him, asked “But why?”

He straightened himself up, making eye contact as he grazed his crotch and nodded towards his desk. “You still have work to do.”

The afternoon passed as quickly as he’d expected it to, which is not very quick at all. After getting himself fixed up, Michael found he could not possibly focus on anything other than events prior. It didn’t matter what he put in front of himself, all he could think about was how this whole thing wasn’t good. It’s exactly want he wanted in his deepest and most sinful dreams; a physical relationship with his millennia-long love—but he’d only let himself pin for a romantic one, chaste save for a few kisses. They both were angels after all. This… This wasn’t even love, he thought. Especially not in the way silence grew serious between them when they parted. Lovers didn’t do that… they talked at the very least.

No. This was lust. And he found that he was ok with it… he wanted to be ok with it.

Eventually he got up and left his office. The empty hallways of his home echoing his footsteps, he tried not to think about it. He paced around his room a bit, wishing Gabriel had been more exact about ‘tonight.’ Did he mean at sunset? Or closer to midnight? Were they just… going to get straight to it? Or… what? Was Michael expecting to be taken out on a date? Please. Gabe was probably just going to get off and then leave. He would be lucky if it was a mutual thing.

Still, he couldn’t stop thinking. How would it happen? Was he expected to do anything? How did Gabriel know how to move his body like that? Eventually, just about when he thought he’d lose it, Michael caved and looked up what to expect.

The internet was, as usual, very helpful, but by the end of his searching his mind was even more frayed than before. He decided to take a shower. A long one just to calm himself down and … maybe to… test some of the things he read.

By the time Gabriel arrived, Michael had taken a long shower, dried and dressed himself and even put on what he hoped was subtle perfume and straightened up his room. Everything was, hopefully, perfect. He was halfway through setting up two glasses of wine --because he did keep wine in his room now-- when the knock came.

“Come in,” He said casually, almost forgetting the situation they were in.

He heard the door open and close, but there came no greeting, so when Michael turned around to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, he was surprised to find Gabriel outright staring at him. He looked the same as he did before, except now he carried a bag with him. Michael, however, did dress up. Or down. It depends on how you look at it. He still wore his chiton, but in a more traditional way that showed off more of his chest and thighs. He also wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

He swallowed and turned back to the wine, wishing his body didn’t blush so much under Gabriel’s intense stare. But he faced it again, this time with a bottle of wine in his hands.

“I thought that we could have a drink?” His voice faltered and he stood rather awkwardly and small.

That seemed to break Gabe out of his trance. He dropped off his bag on the bed and approached him with an even gaze. Stopping right in front of him, he took the bottle from his hands and set it down.

“No… No more wine.” He said in that deep tone that put butterflies in his stomach. Upon seeing his reaction, Gabe added, “I’d rather have you right now.”

And to that Michael could only say one thing.

“Please.”

And now here they were, Gabriel leaving bite marks and hickeys on his neck while he pushed up against him so that every nerve was on fire, begging for more. Michael twisted and strained on the ropes tying his wrists to the bedposts, trying to catch his breath. But whenever he did manage a moment clarity, Gabriel would do something else to make him jump and moan beneath him. He was playing with his nipples now and dragging his fingernails down his sides. He still hadn’t taken off his clothes yet, but by now they might as well be ruined, soaked through with each other’s sweat and precum. Michael moaned again as Gabe slapped his thighs, by now he wasn’t afraid of being loud, he wanted Gabe to know exactly what he felt.

“Please.” He begged again, not expecting an answer but praying for one anyway. His legs shook underneath Gabe’s firm hands as he kept them pressed to the bed, no matter how many times he coaxed Gabe forward, to rub their cocks together, for any friction at all, he still denied him.

“Please, what?” he said into his ear, “Aren’t I giving you everything you want?” The honey in his voice made Michael shiver.

“Yes, God yes! But please… fuck- please touch me. I need you.” He captured his lips again for a messy kiss.

Gabe pulled away. “Greedy, much?” He kissed a line down his body, then above his navel, “You really are a whore.”

Michael gasped as the sash at his hips was untied and thrown aside. His whole body throbbed with need at the silent promise. “Only for you.”

Gabe lifted the remaining fabric and breathed in the wet spot where his precum soaked through. “Is that so? All of this is for me?” He gently pulled the fabric away from his body, finally leaving Michael bare and spread wide for him. His dick fully erect, leaking and red, begging for release by any means.

Michael shifted under his gaze, looking down on him like he owned him. He only hoped he looked as beautifully desperate as Gabriel did. “Of course.”

Gabe nodded and took off the rest of his own clothes. His hands traveled up and down his glistening tan body, fulfilling a desire that Michael wished he could do instead. How many times had Michael wanted to run his fingers up and down the curves of Gabriel’s toned body? He couldn’t remember at that moment. If he didn’t like his wrists being tied up so much, he might have asked to be untied.

When he got to his dick though, he only traced light lines with his fingertips, moaning and biting his lips in pure ecstasy. It was a sight to behold, the lines of precum hanging on his fingers, the trail of ginger hair cropping his dick. ‘Heavenly’ could hardly cover it.

Michael let out a groan and Gabe stopped, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“My eyes are up here.”

“Fuck me already.”

That earned him another slap on the inside of his thighs, he bucked and noted the way his cock bounced in the air. Did everything have to be so erotic? Gabriel reached back to the bag he brought, the one that also had the rope, and pulled out a small bottle of lube and a condom. Now that they were on track, Gabe wasted no time in slicking his fingers up, propping up Michael’s legs and sliding said fingers up and down his ass, even grabbing his balls for good measure. Michael thought about biting into his own arm to stop from crying out too loud, but instead just lifted his legs higher. The house was empty anyway.

Gabe let out a satisfying hum and pressed a finger inside him. It felt as strange as it did when he practiced in the shower, but god was it so much better.

“Take deep breaths. I’m just stretching you out now.” He said, smiling to himself and kissing Michael’s calf. “It would be a shame if you finished now.”

“It wouldn’t be my fault. I didn’t know how much you liked teasing.” Or slapping or bondage or powerplay or literally anything. Then again, he himself didn’t realize how much he’d like those things too, much less being on the receiving end. He took a deep breath. And another. Then, the question that was haunting him slipped from his mouth. “How do you know how to do this?” he blurted out.

“Hm?” Gabriel looked away from him, suddenly abashed, as if he wasn’t massaging his asshole for his pleasure and use. “I uh. I watched some videos.”

And to that Michael laughed, more genuine than he had in a while.

“What?” Gabe took the opportunity to insert another finger, stopping his laughter with pain and pleasure. How cruel!

“Nothing! I just…” He turned his head to hide his face in is arms. “I watched some videos too.”

“Really?” The quality in his voice changed. It had been changing from when they made out in his office to now… it felt like they were talking normally with each other, like friends… or, well, like lovers. It helped that he was smiling now, not quite a joyful or mischievous smile, but a quaint one. As if they both were taking each other in with a new light.

“Yeah… I practiced some too.” He could share that, right?

“Oh… did you…?”

“No. I was… saving that for you.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, hiding his quiet delight behind adding in another finger inside of him.

They stayed like that for a while, Gabe stretching him out gently while Michael sighed and kept his breathing relaxed. Gabe never pushed his fingers in deep, even though Michael thrusted his thighs up, trying to convince Gabe to finger fuck him a little. After a few minutes, Michael was craving for something thicker and longer. Even so, he was not ready for how cold, empty and gapping he’d feel when Gabe’s fingers left him.

“Ready?” Gabe asked as he slid the condom on and poured more lube onto his hand. He bit his swollen lips and he slicked up his shaft; he wasn’t the only one that was denied.

“More than.” He angled himself up more and welcomed Gabe’s steady hand bracing on his red thighs. There was a moment of blissful silence as Gabe lined himself up, only broken by the feeling on his head pressing up against his hole and pushing in. They both moaned.

Gabe was gentle going in, pushing forward and pulling back bit by bit. His whole body jerked as he guessed his prostate was hit, he read that it felt like sparks shooting across the body and by God was that right. He rocked his hips up even harder now. Michael had never felt so full, never felt the need to be, but when Gabe bottomed out and rutted against his hips, he felt as if he’d need this the rest of his life. Is this what it felt like to be truly connected? To be full and content with your lover? It felt cheesy to even think, but he imagined soulmates felt like this.

Michael moaned even louder as Gabe pulled halfway out and slid down faster. Again and again he felt sparks as his lover’s wet hips slammed into his own. The noises they made were obscene and only made worse when Gabe leaned over him to get a better angle. Now he could feel Gabe’s hot breath on his face and see just how gone he was, which made the heat pooling in his own stomach twist and flood his senses. This was started to be too much.

“Touch me!” He begged, straining on his wrists again. “Oh, please I want to come. Please let me come.” He had to have this, he’d waited so long; Michael needed this.

“Oh fuck.” Gabe moaned and leaned down to bite at his neck once more. “Beg for me. I’m so close.”

“Please, Gabriel, I wanna… I wanna feel you come inside me, I want your hands pumping my dick until I scream. I want you. I need you Please. Please. Please!”

Michael’s breathy cries grew more erratic along with Gabriel’s pace. The wet slapping of skin filled the room until Gabe cried out and shook with his orgasm. Michael pushed up against him, writhing around his partner’s twitching cock, until Gabe collapsed onto him and gasping for breath, oversensitive and spent.

“Fuck.” He gasped as he lifted himself up and crashed his mouth on Michael’s. His lips screamed desperation. His hands trembled as he grabbed Michael’s cock and pumped at a horrifically fast pace. Michael gasped against his mouth and bucked, arching his back as much as he could. When his orgasm hit, he froze, coming quickly in Gabe’s hand before opening his eyes again and melting into the bed. Only then did Gabe slide out of him and collapse. He couldn’t breathe for a moment, and then the only thing he could do was breathe. His mind and body spent.

They laid together for a few minutes, Gabe resting on top of him, both of them basking in the afterglow. Michael felt sticky and sore and empty but didn’t feel like moving, and honestly, if they laid like that for the rest of the night, he would be completely fine with that.

As if reading his thoughts, Gabriel kissed his jaw and lifted himself up. How he went from blitzed out to composed Michael couldn’t guess, but he noted the way Gabe still trembled. “We should… clean up.” He emphasized this by taking his hand—still covered in Michael’s cum – and dragged his tongue up his index finger. He made a face and shrugged, “It doesn’t taste that good.”

Michael huffed. “I’m sorry I’m not made of sugar.”

“Hm. But those noises you made were so sweet.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Untie me, please.” He didn’t thing he could play anymore games.

“Just a second.” He peeled off the condom and made to get off the bed.

“Where are you going?” A bolt of dread shot up his spine; he wasn’t leaving, was he? Not tied up to the bed and out in the open?

“Bathroom, Michael. Getting a towel and washing my hands. Also, you’re sticky.”

“And whose fault is that?” he tried shove his anxiety back into its box.

He didn’t get a reply, just a hum and a good view of Gabe’s back side as he walked to the room adjacent and cleaned himself up. He wasn’t even out of sight, keeping the bathroom door wide open, but Michael still felt tendrils of doubt writhe in his chest.

He put on a smile as he walked back holding two warm towelette—because yes, Michael had towelettes on hand. They’re nice to have— He was still surprised when Gabriel cleaned him instead of just untying his wrists and letting him handle his own ‘sticky’ body. Somehow this seemed more intimate than what they just finished doing, especially how gentle Gabe lifted his legs to get a better angle. The warm towel felt wonderful on his abused butt and dick, more so than he thought it would. After getting his lower half he used the other towelette to press on his neck, which had much the same effect. Michael didn’t think that a warm towelette would make the deep bite marks and bruises heal right away, but it was like a gentle kiss. He didn’t think Gabe would be so kind to him.

“Whats wrong, Michael?” Gabe’s calm voice cut through the silence. He didn’t meet his eyes as he asked.

What should he say to that? Everything was wrong, they just—they just had sex! They didn’t even talk about it before hand they just… did it! And this morning he was pretty sure Gabe hated him and Michael… he didn’t know what he wanted to do with anything. No one could find out, he was sure of that… but did that mean he had to forget this whole night happened? All in all his life was falling apart! He didn’t want to push his last lifeline away.

“I’m fine.” He smiled. He tried not to panic as the mood shifted over Gabriel. He could see the clouds over his eyes again. Shit shit shit of course he’d ruin it. “I-“ He started, frantically thinking about what would make this right. “I just want you to stay.” Pathetic.

That seemed to work, though it hurt to say, but he didn’t get an answer right away. Instead, Gabe moved up to his arms and finally undid the rope. Michael hissed as he moved his freed wrists again.

“Oh, I brought something for that.” Gabe said, reaching for his bag once again. He produced a bottle of lotion and applied some to his hands before taking one of Michael’s and massaging it. It felt good, though much like the towel still at his neck, he didn’t think it would do much. They fell into a lull again. Michael felt as if he could fall sleep, if not for the unanswered question weighing on his mind.

“What do you want to do with the cover?”

“Hm?”

“The duvet is… wet.”

“Oh… just throw it to the ground, I’ll clean it tomorrow.” Or he’ll just burn it, whatever.

“Ok.” Gabe let go of his hands and began to pull back the blanket beneath them. Ideally, they should have taken it off beforehand, but they weren’t really thinking logically then, just about how to make each other shake with pleasure. Michael sat up and helped kick the thick blanket to the ground. His ass hurt and his whole body was sore, scratched up and bruised, but at least he was clean-ish. He had honestly never felt so… exhausted before. Satisfied but still so wanting. Maybe he was a selfish whore. He pulled back more blankets from the front of the bed and crawled underneath him, not caring to put on clothes or turn off the dim lights still illuminating his room.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the heaviness he felt all around him versus the sounds of Gabriel sliding off the bed and walking away. It didn’t really work, he still felt hot tears behind his eyes and tried biting the inside of his lip to keep from making noise. If Gabriel wanted to leave, then who was he to stop him? He knew this wasn’t good. He should be happy that he got to have sex with him at all. A check off the bucket list and all that.

But he didn’t leave. Michaels eyes snaped open as he felt a thumb wipe away his tears. Gabe was hovering above him, looking somewhere between tired and concerned; he’d just turn off the lights. Michael wanted to laugh because of how ridiculous he was being. Or cry.

But he didn’t. He shifted over and let Gabriel slide under the covers with him. It was awkward, they were both naked and wasn’t sure how get comfortable like this, but they soon settled down where Michael was laying on Gabe’s chest and they were tracing shapes on each other’s arms.

He was about to drift off when Gabe muttered, half to himself, “I could love you.”

That didn’t feel as bad as it could to Michael. “That’s all I need.” His words slurred together before he dropped into darkness. He’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.

Gabriel didn’t know why he did this anymore than Michael probably did. All Gabe wanted was a release, something he thought he could only have with Anthea. A stress reliever, maybe. A good fuck before the world went to shit. He tried to ignore the darker thoughts he had that day, where he pushed Michael over the edge and left him to shatter on the ground. Or the ones where he’d hurt Michael outright to finally get across all of the hurt he’d experienced at his now-lover’s hands. But there was something—a spark? – when they kissed, and a shift when they actually talked to each other. No masks, no pretenses. Just feelings; whatever they happened to be.

And Gabe remembered how Michael used to be. Fun, genuine, loving. He remembered the quiet nights where they watched the sky and how Michael would, very obviously, check him out. The way he always seemed to prefer either him or Lucifer. This whole thing was ridiculous; of course Michael loved him, it was so obvious. So why did Gabe react like that this morning? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to think about it anymore than he already had.

Gabe wasn’t lying when he said he could love him, but he wouldn’t lie and say that he loved him now. His heart was recently broken and, the tattoo of Anthea’s name was barely over a month old. Before today, he believed it too soon for anything new. Obviously, another part of him disagreed, but he would save those thoughts for another time. Gabriel kissed Michael’s head and fell asleep with him in his arms. He’ll have to see what the next day brought.

____

a doodle:

#satan and me #naughtysam #gabemike #my writing #dam im proud of this #i actually wrote a boink #huh #miracles do happen

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zovioliswritings · 5 years ago

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"Hopeless, worthless, and useless...." Leo x fem reader

(HI! so this is my first fan fiction in like...years lmao. So let me know what you guys think! Also, in this Y/N has an extreme fear of confrontation due to family history, having gone behind Leo's back to train with Splinter. What will happen when she is forced to do the one thing she fears the most?)

Y/N panted heavily, hunched over with her hands on her knees. Trying to catch her breath as Master Splinter watched with a small smile.

"You are doing much better my child." He relaxed from his fighting stance and made his way over to the young woman. Resting a gentle paw on her shoulder. "Though you need to learn not to waste so much of your energy so quickly."

She let out a small groan as she straightened her posture. "How am I supposed to do that? You're so much faster than me. I have to act quickly."

This earned a small chuckle from him, letting his paw fall back to his side. "That may be true, but you could benefit from being more defensive. Something you and Raphael have in common. You should train with him, you two could help benefit one another."

With a shake of her head, she let out a defeated sigh. "As much as I'd love to do that, I can't. That would just raise the chances of Leo finding out. You know he doesn't want me to fight, Sensei."

The rat sighed, shaking his head. Knowing exactly how his eldest son would react if he found Y/N sparring with his red clad brother. "Then maybe it is time we have a talk with Leonardo. This over-protectiveness of his has become overbearing."

Y/N shook her head frantically, her heart dropping as anxiety instantly filled her soul. "N-no Sensei, you promised me you wouldn't say anything. I-its fine, I know Leo means well. He just doesn't want me to be hurt."

"This goes beyond just you getting hurt Y/N, he refuses for you to learn how to properly protect yourself." Splinters eyes narrowed, irritated with his son's decisions. "I've kept my promise in hopes you would eventually tell him, but it has been 6 months. It is only a matter of time before he finds out."

"I-I know..." Y/N whispered, twiddling with her thumbs. Unable to look up at the mutant rat. Her anxiety of eating away at her, making her wish a hole would appear under her feet and swallow her whole.

Master Splinter let out a sigh, forcing his shoulders to relax. His voice soft, but stern. "I know your fear of confronting this subject is hard on you miss Y/L/N, but this can not drag on much further. I'm giving you two days to tell my son."

Y/N's eyes widened as she snapped her gaze up to him. Her heart pounding in her chest as her lungs suddenly founding it difficult to breathe. "T...T-two....two days? M-m-master splinter I-I can't p-p-"

He rested his paw on her shoulder once again," You can and you will Y/N. It is not healthy for him to keep you from doing things and you going behind his back to do them anyway. It has to come to an end. Within these two days you will tell Leonardo.....or I will."

Y/N's breathing picked up, fighting to keep herself from having an anxiety attack. Her heart nearly stopped and leaped out of her chest when a familiar voice appeared behind the two.

"Tell me what Sensei?"

His voice, it sounded concerned. Y/N could feel his eyes on her back, but she couldn't move to face him. She was frozen, her hands trembling terribly. Her thoughts running a thousand miles a minute, completely shutting out the world around her. That is until someone gently grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to turn towards them. Her anxiety crept up from her chest to her throat, squeezing around her vocal cords. Keeping her from being able to make any kind of sound. It was like things were in slow motion. Leo was there, right in front of her. His turtle form towering over her. He looked so concerned and confused. He glanced from Master Splinter and then back to her.

His lips were moving, but she still couldn't hear anything. Only her thoughts. 'He's going to find out....he's going to be so angry with me...he's going to hate me for going behind his back....w-what...what do I do...'

Tears started to blur her vision, with the last bit of control she had, she ripped herself away from Leo and ran. Running faster than she ever had before. She was out of the lair and deep within the sewers before anyone could even say something. By the time she got to the surface her breathes were coming out labored, barely able to keep herself up right as she leaned against a building. Trying to desperately catch her breath while looking around, trying to figure out where she was. Tears streaming down her face when she spotted her apartment building across the street. Within a minute she was in her apartment, slamming the door behind her. Quickly locking it before going to every window and locking them.

When she was done, she finally collapsed onto her couch. Her lungs gasping for air as her body screamed in pain. Having been pushed past it's limits and then some. She buried her face into a pillow, struggling to calm herself down. Her cries coming out in broken sobs and pants. Everything hurt, both physically and mentally. It didn't take to long before she fell unconscious due to exhaustion and over exertion. Leaving her mind a slave to itself.

By the time Y/N woke up the next day, it was already 2:30 in the afternoon. She could barely move, her body still completely worn by last nights events. She laid there on the couch for a few hours before her stomach forced her to get up and feed it. Though nothing sounded good. Even though she was hungry, she had lost all appetite to eat anything. After a while, she just forced herself to eat a bowel of cereal before returning to the couch. Turning on the TV, using it more for background noise than actually watching it as she was pulled back into her thoughts.

She stayed there the rest of the day. Hiding under her blanket whenever she heard Casey or April at the front door Ignoring them no matter what they said, even putting a book shelf against the door when Casey threatened to bust down the door.

As the sun started to go down, her anxiety started to settle in again. She knew Leo would be coming over. It was only just a matter of when. Her window was all she had to keep him out, and that wouldn't stand a chance against him if he really wanted to get in. Y/N knew this wouldn't last long, tomorrow Leo would know. Whether she liked it or not. But if she could hold out on the confrontation until tomorrow, then she damn sure was going to waste every minute she could.

The second the sun was no longer visible in the sky, there was a tapping on her window. This caused her heart rate to spike as she buried herself deeper into her blankets. Snuggling further into the couch. Trying to make herself as small as possible. She could faintly hear her name being called out.

'It's him....he's here...' Anxiety swelled into her stomach once more as she tried to ignore his constant tapping. After a while it suddenly stopped and it was quiet for about ten minutes. Hesitantly, she untangled herself from her blanket and slowly lifted herself off her couch. Tip toeing to her room and over to the window. Peaking outside, looking for any sign of her beloved turtle. After about five minutes, she let out a sigh of relief. Relaxing as she unlocked her window and opened it. Taking in a breath of fresh air. Crossing her arms as she leaned against the window seal and closed her eyes. Letting the night breeze calm her down further.

"...Y/N..."

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of her name, jumping back when she found Leo standing right in front of her. His face having been just inches from hers. Her breath picked up as she backed further into the room. Watching as he entered the room. His movements slow and gentle.

"Y/N wait...it's okay, I just want to know what's wrong." He spoke so softly, taking a step towards her.

She shook her head and took another step back. Looking down as she felt her back meet one of the walls in her room. Her heart racing.

Leo frowned as he watched her, taking careful steps towards her. He hated seeing her like this, and he didn't understand why. Why was she acting so afraid of him? "Y/N its okay, please down be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to know what's wrong.." He stopped once he was right in front of her, his body towering over her. Placing a gentle hand on her arm, frowning even more when she flinched under his touch. "Y/n please....its okay love...You can tell me, I'm not gonna be upset."

"B-but you are..." She choked out with a sob, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Y-You're g-g-gonna b-be so mad a-and hate m-me." She buried her face into her hands as she sobbed. Crying even harder when Leo pulled her into his arms.

"Love no, I could never ever be mad at you. Let alone hate you." He gently picked her up and carried her over to the bed. Sitting down and setting her on his lap as he comforted her. Gently rubbing her back as she cried into his plastron. Slowly getting her to calm down.

She sniffled as she stared at his neck, lightly tracing random shapes on his plastron. Unable to look him in the eye.

"Y/N....could you please tell me what this is all about.." He felt her tense up in his arms once again. "Its okay Y/N...I'm not going to be mad.." He gently kissed the apex of her head.

They both sat in silence for a few minutes before Y/N worked up the courage to speak. "I...I-I..." Leo didn't say anything, he just rubbed her back. Encouraging her to continue. "I went behind your back....a-and have been training with Master Splinter..."

Leo's eyes widened, most defiantly having not expected that. "What?"

Y/N whimpered and buried herself further into the turtle. "I-I k-know you said you d-didn't want me to start any serious training b-b-but..." Her voice closed off as tears started to well up in her eyes once again.

"But what love..?" He cooed softly in her ear. No trace of anger or betrayal was found in his voice. It gave her to courage to continue.

"B-but I c-couldn't just be satisfied with the basic training you taught me. It was all just simple techniques to be able to slip away and run...and...it wasn't enough." Y/N pulled away just enough to look up at him. "Yeah, those techniques worked whenever we were in a pinch but...having to leave you guys behind to fight the fight...." Her gaze dropped back down to his plastron, letting everything that she felt out. "Hopeless, worthless, and useless...the list can go on and on with how it made me feel. To know that I couldn't do anything more and that that's all you thought I would ever be capable of doing."

Leo's heart dropped as he looked down at her. How could he have done this, he had only meant to protect her from harm. But here he was, hurting her so much that she feared to tell him about something so small. He pulled her closer into his arms, nuzzling his face into her hair. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I'm so, so sorry. You are capable of so much more than that. I never meant to make you feel that way." He gently kissed the top of her head once more. "I just....was afraid that once your started to learn how to fight, then it meant you were now really apart of everything that I want to protect you from."

"But I'm already apart of it Leo," She said softly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "The moment I meet you guys, I became apart of your life. Whether I know how to fight or not."

He sighed softly, "I know....I just... "

Y/N nuzzled his cheek, "I know...."

They sat in silence for a while, just holding one another. Both lost in their own thoughts,

"If you'd like..." Leo said, breaking the silence.

"Hm?" She replied, pulling away enough to look up at him. Finally being able to meet his gaze without fear.

"I can help and train with you....I know how tough Master Splinter can be." He gave a gentle smile, resting his forehead on hers.

A smile pulled at her lips. "I'd really like that...and Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you..."

His smile grew, " I love you too."

#tmnt #leo x reader #tmnt leo x reader #TMNT x reader

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years ago

Text

The Same Old Tale

Summary: One would think an asexual person wouldn't be very easily swayed by a siren.

They would be wrong.

Read it on Ao3

Relationships: Raphael Santiago & Rosa Santiago, Maia Roberts/Raphael Santiago, Meliorn/Raphael Santiago, Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago, Luke Garroway & Maia Roberts

Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Autistic Raphael Santiago, POV Raphael Santiago, Daylighter Raphael Santiago, Daylighter Simon Lewis, Hurt Raphael Santiago, Hurt Maia Roberts, polyamori - Freeform, Open Relationships, Nonbinary Meliorn (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Meliorn uses they/them pronouns

It looks just like her.

Not like she did the last time he’d seen her - she looks younger, her skin healthier, not pale and wrinkled from old age and too many years with only a few hours out in the sun. Her eyes are bigger, and shine bright with intelligence, her hair is long and black and she has that mischievous, private smile that she would give Raphael sometimes. She looks like the girl who would glare at anyone who looked at him funny when he started playing with his hands when they were kids, who got him books on astronomy when he was obsessed with the stars and everyone else thought it was weird. He can almost see her reaching out to steal his chicharrones when he pretended he wasn’t looking, the old familiarity of that same old routine soothing and thrilling all at once.

She was so bright. He’d never forget how bright she was, how deep she shone, not when her light never even dulled. Even as she was old and greying, she always looked like she was full of future, not past.

She’s perfect.

She’s perfect, and his whole body aches with emptiness, and longing, and the kind of hurt that burns through his lungs. He feels her loss everywhere; in his shaking, trembling hands that have unlearnt how to play and bring him comfort without her to glare at the people who’d hurt him for it; in the weakness in his legs, wobbling and hurting like they want to lunge towards her and can’t wait another moment; in his aching ribs, sharp and tight like they’re about to snap him from the inside out; in his eyes, which burn hot and prickling like they’re about to be crushed, trying to hold back tears.

“Raphael,” she says, and her voice is musical and sweet. Even when she was serious, it always sounded like it was singing with laughter.

“Rosita,” he chokes out, his tongue heavy and lost in emotion.

She looks just like she did the day he lost her, really lost her. Not when she died all those years ago, but right before he left home before being Turned. She even has the same dress, the orange one, with big, red flowers. It makes a weird combination with the sea under her feet.

“I’ve missed you, Raphael,” Rosa says, and he shakes.

It’s only the fact that he needs her to know that gives him enough strength to manage to say, “I’ve missed you, too. So much.” Then, when she looks at him curiously, as if assessing his words, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she says, “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head, getting up, and she smiles. “It’s not, I- It’s not to me.”

She nods at him, like she’s listening, really listening, and he’s always loved that about her, too - how she always heard what he said, didn’t look for hidden meanings, didn’t ask him to shut up about the damn stars, and didn’t ever ask for him to speak. “It’ll be, then,” she decides, “just come with me.”

He’s already up, but something in him feels frozen in place, like his body is too overwhelmed to know what to do with itself. “Where?” he asks. Rosa rarely ever asked him to go anywhere. She ran to him, took his hand, and led him there.

“You don’t want to see me?” she counters, taking a step back, and he takes three forward just on instinct, almost tripping on the loose, burning sand.

Don’t go, he wants to tell her, desperately, with the kind of ardor he doesn’t think he would find for anything else. Please, don’t go.

“Don’t leave me,” she says, an echo of his own thoughts, as in tune with him as always, and God, she’s like a part of him, and he’s lacked it for so long it’s almost overwhelming to have it again.

He chokes out, “I won’t.”

Her eyes are glistening with unshed tears, and he wants to run, run, reach out to her and hug her, take her home and hold her tight, protect her from the bullies at school, show her the stars, make her pozole and tell her stories about their neighbors in Guadalajara until she feels okay again. His arms hurt with how empty they are, and he’s frozen in place, and his vision is foggy, foggy with tears, and she says, in a broken, hurt, almost rough voice, “but you already did.”

She looks like she’s fading, retreating into the sunset, so fast, too fast, faster than he could ever reach her, and she’s going to be gone and she doesn’t know, he hasn’t told her, that he never left her, he could never, he wouldn’t. That he took her with him wherever he went, that he wanted to protect her, that he looked out for her. That he knew about her husband and how she couldn’t have kids, of her work at the school, of the little restaurant they had kept until he died and she had to go to the asylum. He bursts out, screaming or crying or running, all at once, he doesn’t know, because she can’t leave, she can’t go without knowing, he needs her to know, and a hand grabs his arm with the kind of force that could hold an unhinged vampire, and screams, “Raphael!”

He hisses automatically, turning to the voice like he’s trying to tear it into pieces, and it’s Maia, beautiful and wide eyed and worried, and he stops for just a second, just enough to blink and think about how his sister is leaving, before trying to get rid of her grasp.

She feels like she’s holding him with her claw, her grip strong no matter how much he fights, unflinching at his hisses and screams and even his tears, because she knows he won’t hurt her, but he wants to get away, he needs to get-

“It’s a siren! Raphael, it’s a siren! It’s not her, Raphael, it’s not her, it’s not-”

She’s standing over water, and she’s too close now, looking at them with the kind of hatred Rosa never had, and Maia is holding him, still terrified and screaming, and he’s still fighting, because for a second, he doesn’t care.

A siren. A siren. It’s not Rosa. And God, it looks just like her, healthy and happy and like all of the future that he never had, all the future she held in her eyes and shine even as her years ran out, all of the life that he didn’t get to be a part of, because he was dead, and dead without her, and she still doesn’t know.

“It’s a siren!” Maia keeps screaming, and she’s strong, but not strong enough to hold him back, and he can’t see her, because of the tears, because he can’t tear his eyes away from Rosa, close and crying and missing him, like she did all those years when he would see her running over the few pictures they had at night, on the altar that she made for him every year without fail after the third year without news from him, the biggest, brightest one in the neighborhood.

“Won’t tell if you won’t,” the siren laughs at him, teasingly, with that kind of delighted mischief that she used to have, and God, he missed her so much. He still can’t break away from Maia, but werewolves are still not as strong as vampires, and he’s gaining ground, and she’s going to let him go eventually, she won’t go down with him. “I’m still just like Rosa. Don’t you want to talk to her? I promise it’ll feel just the same when I touch you,” she smiles, and he really doesn’t care, because he’d take a knockoff right then. He would.

“Simon!” Maia screams, still not letting him go, and there’s a few seconds of struggling and then a loud hiss in the air, and Simon’s grabbing his other arm. Simon wasn’t even at the beach, he had left for groceries, Maia was at the house, and he can’t fight the both of them off at the same time, but he screams and thrashes anyway, and Rosa frowns at Simon.

“They’re vampires,” another voice says, and Rosa turns, confused, and her hair is wavy, and that’s wrong.

“There’s daylight still,” she says, no trace of smile on her face, her eyes dull and annoyed, and Raphael wants to scream, should be screaming, because she’s disappearing all over again.

“Daylighters,” the voice answers, calmly, “still don’t make good prey for sirens. Besides, the Queen would be really unhappy if you took them.”

The siren frowns, and Raphael stills, so quickly the three of them almost fall back from the sudden change.

“You know it’s the truth, a Seelie is telling it to you,” Meliorn says, still calm as ever, even if Raphael can see it burning in their eyes, the unmoving rage that they’ve always had. “Besides, you’re close enough to smell it now. Let them go.”

The siren grimaces, ugly and deformed, and just like that, disappears.

“Thank you,” Simon says, his voice strained, “we’re sorry to- bother you.” Meliorn hadn’t come with them to their vacation, having had some business to solve in the seelie realm, and their visit was completely unscripted.

“You did not,” Meliorn answers, going right past him, holding Raphael’s face in their hands. “Are you alright?”

“She’s gone,” he croaks out, and it doesn’t answer Meliorn’s question, except they all know it does. He knows it’s a siren, he does, and he’s surrounded by almost all of the people he loves the most, and he still wishes he had gone with her. He still wishes he had gotten his chance to explain himself, no matter the consequences.

It should be terrifying, but it’s just humiliating. He hates crumbling in front of anyone, but particularly them. Meliorn and Maia are the strongest people he knows. Simon is so resilient, and resourceful, and bright.. And Raphael- Raphael was supposed to take care of them, and he didn’t.

But at his words, Meliorn just nods, their understanding tender and soothing and inescapable like the ocean. They bring their foreheads together, slow, calm, and Raphael feels shielded, with their hands in his face, their forehead against his, their eyes closed so Raphael’s tears aren’t for anyone to see, not even them.

“I wish-” he says, but doesn’t finish it, choking up on the words and emotion and his own fear of letting it go again when he was so close to- to losing everything, he realizes. Everything he’s built for himself, everyone who ever counted on him, gone in a smoky haze of past, lost in exchange for what he can’t recover.

“I know,” Meliorn says, and God, Raphael knows that they do, and it’s almost unbearable.

He feels a pressure against his back, and only realizes that it’s a hug, that it’s Simon, that it helps, when he says, “We’re here for you.”

He closes his eyes, suddenly unable to face them when he’s so overcome by his own emotion, and lets it wash over him, inescapable and slow.

“Sirens fall into the Seelie realm,” Meliorn says calmly once Raphael’s steady again on his feet, wiping the tears off Raphael’s face. “I’ll make sure to bring this forward to the Queen.”

Raphael shakes his head slightly. “It’s what sirens do,” he says, weakly, “it’s in her nature. It’s not like she can help it.”

“Perhaps,” Meliorn agrees, still wiping Raphael’s tears, and it’s the soothing movements of their thumb that make him realize he hasn’t quite stopped crying, “but it’s in mine to protect the people I love.”

Raphael nods weakly, and Meliorn leans forward to place a kiss on his forehead. It punches a laugh out of him, sharp and self deprecating. It’s the kind of comforting touch he’s supposed to give, not receive.

“I’ll make sure they know all of you are off-limits,” Meliorn completes. Raphael nods again, bringing them in for a hug, silently crying on their shoulder just like he didn’t want to. Meliorn doesn’t mind, though, they never do, just run their hands through his hair, slow and strong strokes that make him feel just a little safer.

Raphael is sitting down, hugging his knees. Not to protect himself, not to hide away, but to hold himself together, to feel in control. The air is easier to breathe, like this. Maia is by his side and so is Simon, who looks decidedly lost, and has Meliorn’s hand in his.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael says.

“No need to be sorry,” Maia answers, rubbing his shoulders, “I’m just glad that I saw what was happening.”

She was inside the house when Raphael decided to watch the sunset, waiting for Simon to come back so they could make dinner. She must have seen them through the window.

“How did you know?” he asks, face hidden in his knees.

“It looked like Luke,” Maia answers, shrugging, something that feels almost like an apology in her ever sympathetic eyes, “but I was just talking to him on the phone.”

Turns into the person you want to see the most in the moment. Of course.

No matter what happened, how long it had been, that would always be Rosa, for him. Always.

It’s inescapable, a story that keeps retelling itself, branded into the world like the legends that they embody.

There’s a moment of silence, and he doesn’t dare look at them, or even move at all. It’s Simon who speaks, tentative, soothing, like someone who approaches a small animal. “Who did you see?”

“Rosa,” he says, like he’s breaking.

“Oh.” Simon answers, and he knows, without looking at him, that his eyes are wide. “I’m s-”

“Please don’t,” Raphael interrupts, because he can’t hear it. “Not now,” he says, an echo of something said many years back, and this time, Simon listens.

No matter how much he loved Simon - and God, he did love Simon, and right now, painfully so - this would always be a stain. Rosa was always a sensitive topic, and usually, he was able to share that with him, but right now, he can’t.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael says.

“It’s okay,” Simon answers, unbearably understanding, as he always is, calm and storm all at once. “I’ll just, finish packing up the groceries,” he says, and then leaves in a blur, agitated.

There’s a beat of silence, then Meliorn sighs. “Is it alright if I go with him?”

Raphael nods. “It’d be- less overwhelming,” he admits. Rosa is too raw, the kind of wound that leaves his guts out, too ugly to share, too humiliating to show. It’s all of his insides, twisted, exposed, and he can’t breathe, not when there’s people looking at it.

“I understand,” Meliorn nods, and leaves a kiss on the top of Raphael’s head. Tentatively, he reaches out to touch their hand, their fingers intertwining slowly, even as Raphael refuses to move his head from where it rests against his knees. He feels so, so weak, but right then, he doesn’t care.

Meliorn goes, and he misses them even as it helps him breathe a little easier.

And Maia stays.

“You can go, if you want,” he says.

“I’m fine here,” she answers quietly. Her hand reaches out to touch his back, very slowly, just the tip of her fingers at first, then the spread of her palm. Raphael finds that it’s a little easier to breathe with the pressure grounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, the words rolling off his tongue easily like they live there.

“What for?” she counters, and he knows, without looking, that she’s raising her eyebrows at him.

“All of this,” is all he answers. Then, as he stills, “oh God, did I hurt you?”

She scoffs. “Gonna need more than some thrashing to hurt me, big boy,” she says, smiling, just on the side of mirthful before turning soft and tender and real. “There you are.”

He didn’t even notice he was looking at her. Then again, he was terrified.

“I know you didn’t lash out on me on purpose,” she says.

“I wasn’t thinking,” he counters, something like stubbornness in the way he refuses to accept her words.

“And even then, you wouldn’t hurt me.”

He says nothing.

He was just expecting her to let him go eventually. He might have had to drag her, but eventually, she’d let him go. She wouldn’t let herself be taken down because of him, she’s too smart for that, too much of a survivor. But he doesn’t say that, just buries his head on his shoulders again, because that shame is better if he keeps it to himself, even if it eats at his insides and leaves him to rot.

“It’s all right, Raphael.”

“It’s not,” he answers, “The way I reacted, I- you were not like this.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, “It wasn’t talking to me, Raphael,” she says, “I don’t know how I’d have reacted if I had been caught by surprise, like you were.” Another beat, then her voice comes out soft, like she’s telling a secret, the kind of secret you only tell someone with your head down and your eyes away, “For a second, I even thought he might have come to surprise me, before I noticed he was standing over water.”

“I’m sorry,” Raphael says, reaching out to rub her back, an imitation of what she had been doing moments ago. Unlike him, she melts into the touch, letting her head rest on his shoulder slowly. Her eyes still look far away, though, and holding immense sadness.

“It’s okay,” she says, but it’s a lie she puts no effort in. Even the little shake of her head is too subtle, too small, too meaningless. Raphael reaches for it, carefully petting her head, small movements over the curls of her hair. He’s always loved Maia’s hair. It feels perfect, even as he has to handle it carefully so it doesn’t get tangled up. “It’s just- I keep waiting for this big gesture, and I hate myself for it,” she confesses. “I know it’s not coming.”

Raphael thinks carefully of something to say, rolling her words over in his mind as if searching for an opening. She doesn’t seem to expect any particular response, but he wants to give her one. The perfect one, the one that will give her an answer and take away that emptiness that’s all over her movements.

“Maybe Luke just isn’t the grand gestures type,” is what he settles on, “that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

She shakes her head, more vigorously this time, and he knows that this time she means it. It breaks his heart. “No. I mean, yes, but- not enough,” she sighs. “He’s like a father to me, but I’m not like a daughter to him. He cares, but… Not in the way that I want.”

She looks up at him, eyes shiny with tears, and that’s the only kind of gleam he doesn’t like seeing on them. He reaches out and wipes them carefully, like he’s afraid his touch will break her skin. Even if, right now, he feels way more breakable than her.

She might not be breakable, but she’s tarnishable, and he’s the monster that desecrates good things.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, painfully lost of any other words. Family has always been a tricky thing for Maia; her parents renegated her, and Luke never stopped being a shadowhunter at heart. It’s not something he understands; he loved Rosita fiercely, deeply, but she always loved him right back. Sometimes, he feels like that made it worse - maybe if she loved him less, he wouldn’t feel like he betrayed her. If the pain was all his, maybe he could move on from this guilt, this debt he’d always have with her, with the life they’d promised each other in the quiet laughs when they were kids.

“No, I’m sorry,” Maia sighs, “you are the hurt one, we shouldn’t be talking about me.”

“We can both be hurt,” Raphael argues, reaching out for her hand when she leaves the spot on his shoulder, like she wants to stop being comforted, and he couldn’t let her if he tried. “Besides, it helps. To have someone I can take care of.”

She does something that’s between a scoff and a snort, and yet still doesn’t feel condescending, only genuine, “You can’t keep focusing on other people to forget about you,” she says, not unkindly.

“I know,” he shrugs, “It’s not that. Well,” he amends at her unimpressed stare, “not just that. I feel like I failed Rosa. I abandoned her. I feel- so powerless,” he hates the little pauses, hates the way he struggles to come up with words to express his feelings. He’s usually not bad at this, but sometimes they run from him, and it’s like he’s way too tired to truly chase them, “so to have people I love… Be there for them. It helps. It feels like I can be close to her as well”

“Okay,” Maia sighs. “But only if you let me be there for you, too.”

“I’m letting you,” he says, a trace of a smile scratching its way through his face.

“You better,” she says, even as it falls a little flat. She squeezes his hand, though, and that counts more; they might not be fully themselves right now, but they’re finding their way back together.

“Do you want to come inside?” She says after some time, the kind that can’t be counted in seconds or years, the kind that fits too much and too little, endless lifetimes and the span of a moment, “It’s getting cold pretty fast.”

He hadn’t noticed, but now that she mentions it, he realizes she’s right. Once the sun sets, the beach starts to freeze up, and it’s always a bitch for a vampire to get warm again. “Yeah,” he replies, stretching his legs and getting up slowly, feeling like his body is just coming back to him. Like it hadn’t been his for the last few minutes. “Maia?” he says, when she gets up as well.

“Yeah?” she answers.

“You were right before,” he says. “I wouldn’t hurt you. And I won’t leave you, either.” He looks down. He had been about to do just that, he knows, but- he was caught by surprise. This, here- it’s family, too, and he’d be a fool to let them go. “I promise.”

She smiles at him, and it finally looks genuine. “You better,” she answers, squeezing his hand, close to him as they head back inside.

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lukawodric · 6 years ago

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(vatreniworld) #44 with Lucelo (otp/brotp/whatever you like) :)

i’ve added some other madridistas to join this weird story and i hope you like it!Trick-or-…trick!(44. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.)With: Luka Modric, Marcelo Vieira, Karim Benzema, Raphael Varane, Toni Kroos, Gareth Bale & Marco Asensio!

The week has brought RealMadrid two difficult matches. It wasn’t the time to overthink the goals allover again, due to the tiredness that was consuming everybody, little by little.

The atmosphere was heavy and dull. The boys were running during the trainingsession like their legs were going to melt at any time. Their faces were asgood as Lopetegui’s expression when he watched all the balls getting into Keylor’sgoal. And then the balls hitting Courtois’ net.

In the locker room, Casemiro entered and met Luka, sitting on the wooden benchand drinking the blue isotonic. “It sucks, huh?” Luka sighed. “Yeah, bro. It really does. Everyone’s mood is killing the whole vibe.”Casemiro vented. He opened his wardrobe, took his jersey and then roughly closedit, making a loud sound of it.“But what can we do? There’s no way to turn this around.” Luka left his emptybottle aside and got up. “The day is so damn sad that Marcelo is 5 minuteslate.” He pointed at the clock.“You’re right.” Casemiro laughed. “I mean, the guy is the craziest one aboutthis team and is always here in time…-”“Imma tell ya, Lopetegui will definitely punish him as soon as he gets here.” Thistime, Luka’s wardrobe got opened and he started looking for his headband.“Or… maybe we can punish him.” Casemiro suggested.Luka slowly moved his head to stare at a thoughtful Casemiro, walking aroundthe room with an idea inside his mind.“W-what… what do you mean?” Luka questioned. “Do… you wanna fight him? Knockhim down or what? Don’t count me in!”“No, Lukita. Obviously not!” He interrupted. “Think about it: everybody’sfeeling sad as f*ck and maybe we can cheer this training up… just a little bit…”“I’m listening and I’m not really liking the pictures on my imagination.” Lukaprotested.“LISTEN. JUST LISTEN! We can play some tricks on Marcelo and also entertainthose men with a good soap opera.” Casemiro placed his fingers on his chinmeanwhile planning it all.“Are we going to sit down on the field and watch a Netflix s-“ Luka was stilltrying to figure it out.“Thank your dad for keeping you this naive, Luka. That’s not it. What about wepretend that you got hurt during the exercises for Marcelo to think that there’ssomething wrong?” The number 14 implied. “I’M IN!” Toni announced, while breaking into the locker room.“What?! Do you actually think that’s a good idea?” Luka asked.“Uhm… yes?” Raphael followed Toni. “C’mon, we need to get distracted somehow.”“And you know who had the injury that worried Marcelo the most?” Benzema asked,bringing his pair of boots on his hands.“No… no way I’m buying this silly game. What if he believes this kind of crap?”Luka started getting outraged.“Hello? That’s the intention, genius.” Asensio came out of nowhere, throwingthe ball right into Luka’s direction.“Guys, take it easy on him. Luka isn’t the player/actor type of person.” Garethjoined the locker room group. “Thank you, Bale. Are you with me?” Luka sighed in relief, holding the ball. “Are you kidding me? This plan sounds great! I’m in too.” Bale smashed his handagainst Casemiro’s, smiling.“Can someone else play the main drama part?” Luka begged and everyone kepttheir words for themselves. “Nice.”“Don’t you wanna bring this team back from the dead?” Benzema asked, taking theball from his hands.“Yes, I do… however-“ Luka tried to prolong.“THEN GOOD! Let’s do it.” Toni hit his back twice, making him step forwards tokeep his body still up.All of the boys started clapping and leaving the room to the field. Luka kepthimself steady, thinking about how pissed he would be if it happened to him.But he also considered the fact that Marcelo used to be so cool about jokesbetween them… and so did Luka. Wasn’t friendship also about playing littletricks? Maybe it’d cheer Marcelo’s feelings up too.A hand tightly held his arm, bringing him back to reality.“Oh good, is it the devil trying to drag me down for this?” Luka thought.The hand pulled him. “C’mon you dipshit, Marcelo has arrived.” Marco dragged him to the field.

Marcelo was greeting the guys, holding his backpack with a discouraged attitude.When his eyes met Luka’s, he walked in his direction and offered his left hand.“Hey, Lukita!” He forced a smile. “Hey… bro.” Luka squeezed his hand. For almost 1 minute.“Ah… are you okay?” Marcelo asked.“Yes. I’m alright. Fine. Nothing wrong.” He replied. “Then why are you still shaking hands with me?” Marcelo got confused.

In the background, Luka could only see Toni facepalming. Casemiro had his armscrossed and nodding his head in denial.

“It’s because… I missed you! Come here and hug me.” Luka pulled Marcelo andgave him the most awkward hug ever. “Th- g-ys are trying to pl-y a tr-ck on ya.”He tried to warn.“Lukita… WHAT?” He yelled. “Are you drunk before 2pm?”Gareth noticed that Luka wanted to ruin the plan and pushed him away fromMarcelo’s arms. “No, he’s not. He’s justrecovering from the trauma.” Asensio pressed Luka’s shoulder. “You know, those twomatches…” Harder. Luka squeaked. “Alright then… I’ll start warming up, otherwise Julen will kick somethingbesides the ball.” He left.“What were you trying to do?” Gareth asked while placing his hands on hiswaist.“Have you looked at him? He’s not fine.” Luka justified. “We should mindserious business-““For God’s sake, is just a game!” Raphael appeared, insisting on the tricks.“The plan is: we’ll start with that spot kicking exercise and when you make amove, you’ll fall and act like you’re in pain.” Casemiro started. “And then we’ll all check upon you, asking how are you doing and stuff. WhenMarcelo comes to you, act your ass off!” Karim added.“For how long am I supposed to prolong this theatre?” Luka rolled his eyes.“Until he starts crying.” Bale finished.“Let’s go?” Toni suggested.

Theystarted walking to their positions. One by one, they kicked the ball, keepingone eye at the goal’s direction and the other eye on Luka, just to make sure hewouldn’t dare messing up with the plan again.When Luka’s turn came in, he kicked the ball as strong as he could, so maybe he’dbe able to improve the whole acting with some real pain.

The ball flied all the way over the goal… and hit the crossbar. All of a sudden, everything went black and he felt his body hitting the ground.Like a boomerang, the ball made the way back right against Luka’s forehead,making the sound of the bone being pressed by the object echoes throughout thestadium.

From afar, the boys saw his blond hair moving in slowmotion when his body startedgoing down. Toni facepalmed again; Casemiro and Marco covered their mouths in surprise; Raphaelmoved his hands through his hair; Benzema and Gareth with their eyes wide opencould only whisper one word: “f*ck!”; Marcelo rushed his steps to see themassacre closer.

Luka swore for God that he saw more stars than the whole NASA team has everseen. The birds from the cartoons became reality on his imagination. His eyeswere crossed and his forehead had instantly got red.

“Lukita!” Marcelo called him. “Big bro… is everything alright?” “Dad?” Luka asked.“How many fingers am I holding up?” The number 12 tried to test his sanity.“One, two, three, four… thousand…” Luka started pointing and counting. “Oh,your hair is looking good today. Have you tried that expensive shampoo thatGareth uses?” He changed the subject.

The boys arrived.Toni poked Luka’s arm. “What have you done?”“Not so much lately, what about you?” Totally nonsense, he responded. “Come here. Hold my hand, let’s get up!” Casemiro gave his hand. “No! No… I like in here. Can I stay here?” Luka inquired, avoiding fromCasemiro’s touch.“Is everything alright?” Varane questioned, getting down on his knees.“It’s dizzy… and dark… I think I’m passing out…” Luka tried to organize histhoughts. “I could literally feel my brain shaking and probably something isout of its place…”

While Luka started murmuring sentences in croatian, Karim went out to look forhelp.

“Marcelito… big bro… let me ask you a favor…” Luka pulled Marcelo, grabbing hisshirt. He almost fell over his chest. “Tell Ivano that I love him and tell himto tell his sisters that I love them too…” “Luka?! Stop kidding, you’re not going to die… a-are you?” He started to feelmore concerned about the situation.“I don’t know… I-I can’t… move…” Luka informed and then closed his eyes.“Are you listening to this?” Marcelo turned his head to face the other boys. “He’stalking pure sh… Luka?” He glanced at his face again. “LUKA? Luka that’s not funny!” Shaking his body, Marcelo immediately shouted. “ANSWER ME, YOU TINYB*TCH! YOU CAN’T DIE! OPEN YOUR F*CKING EYES RIGHT NOW!”

Casemiro gave himself the benefit of the doubt. “Is this man the greatest actorever or the unluckiest guy in the world?” He thought quietly.

“TELL ME YOU’RE ALIVE!” Yelling and completely out of control, Marcelo startedslapping Luka’s face, trying to wake him up. “YOU CAN’T BE DEAD. YOU CAN’T!HAVE YOU HEARD ME? IF YOU DIE, I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

Everybody stopped walking side to side and stared at Marcelo. He listened to athousand different types of “what?” coming out uninterruptedly from everyone’smouths.

“What?” Luka joined. “I SAID THAT wait, are you alive?” He directed his attention back at him.“Pretty much…” The Croatian one moved his body up, sitting down and quickly blinking.Marcelo helped him to get up.“I thought you were f*cking dead! You scared the hell outta me-““I just needed to close my eyes. The sun was burning them into flames… by theway, are they red?” He interrupted and pulled the skin under his eyes forMarcelo to check them up. “No, they aren’t!” Marcelo slapped him one more time, this time on his hands. “Butyour forehead is.”“It was all a plan. We were trying to play some tricks on you…” Casemiro nervouslylaughed and touched Marcelo’s shoulder.“We just wanted to get rid of this sad mood from the matches…” Toni added.“We just didn’t know that things were going to happen like this…” Varane ended. “So… your eyes aren’t red. Your forehead is.” Marcelo concluded. “Apparently…” Luka followed him.“But your face can get as red as your forehead, can’t it?” He asked, catchingthe ball.“Well, only if the ball hit me ag…-“ Luka couldn’t even finish the sentence andstarted running away as fast as possible.

“Hey guys! The doctor is here to see how is Luka doing…” Benzema announced,bringing the help he went out to search for. He saw Luka running. “Well, heseems alright to me!” He laughed and tapped the doctor’s back, as a silentwarning that he could get back to what he was doing before… and then he sawMarcelo holding the ball on his hands. “Wait! Actually, you can stay and hopefor the best, just like us.”

#my imagines #luka modric #marco asensio #gareth bale #marcelo vieira #raphael varane #casemiro #karim benzema #toni kroos #real madrid #mine #requested #luka modric imagine #luka modric headcanon #real madrid imagine #real madrid headcanon

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