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#in the aftermath of Everything they still talk and go on coffee dates
girlatrocity · 2 months
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wouldn't it be funny if he just. Didn't know
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epicbuddieficrecs · 3 months
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Weekly Recap | January 29th-February 4th 2024
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Ao3 history still fucked :/
Repeating again: if I've ever reblogged one of your WIP fics, consider this my permission to tag me in them!!
Complete
🔥 Say You Were Made to Be Mine by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Canon Divergent - Different First Meeting, Soulmarks AU | 11K | Teen): It's Valentine's Day 2018, and Eddie saves a man from choking to death in the middle of a restaurant. It's only after the man is rushed away by paramedics that Eddie realizes his hands are green. The man he saved is his soulmate. And he doesn't even know his name let alone how to find him.
For hope I'd give my everything by dragon_rider/ @evanbdiaz (Post S1, CW: Eating Disorders | 8K | Mature): After the disaster of his first date with Abby, Buck’s relationship with food changes rather dramatically.
where would you rather die by tempestaurora/ @tempestaurora (Pacific Rim AU | 4K | Teen): “Care to explain why you’ve brought a child to a military base?” Bobby asked when they returned. The base was alight with celebration; the day had been saved, the world was safe for a little longer. “Uh.” Buck glanced back at Christopher, currently talking to Karen Wilson from the research division. “He was an unaccompanied minor?” “So we leave him with the social workers, with first responders,” Bobby said, a pointedly raised eyebrow in his direction. “His dad’s a cadet at the PPDC,” Buck replied. “And his grandmother probably died in the attack, so it just felt… I don’t know, morally right?”
i've been dying to catch you dizzy by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Esablished Buddie, Fluff | 2K | Teen): Eddie and Buck go ice-skating. Oh, and Chris is there too!
🔥 The Aftermath of Liberation and Love Confessions by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E9, Getting Together | 17K | Teen): Still, Buck says, “Yeah, Eddie. Why don’t you teach us. What would you say if you were professing your love?” You mean something besides, “In the event of my untimely death, I made you legal guardian of my child”? ~ In which Eddie comes out, sexuality is complicated but coffee is not, Buck makes an excessive salad and is also roasted, everyone has a love confession, and December is the most dramatic time of year.
let the choir bells sing by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Madney Wedding, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): All at once, Eddie has an idea. It’s definitely the stupidest idea he’s ever had in his entire life, but he has it all the same, and there’s no time to come up with a better one. He puts his hands on Buck’s elbows, tugs him in closer, and says, “Kiss me.”
When You Broke Her Heart, I'm Watching it Burn by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S5E11, Buck/Taylor Break-Up | 4K | General): When Buck confesses he kissed someone, Taylor makes an assumption about who. Eddie deals with what all of it means for his own future while picking up the pieces for both Buck and Taylor.
🔥Plus or Minus by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (S5 | 10K | General): “Why are you cleaning out the kitchen? Why is my stuff in boxes?” Eddie slows, then stops. “Figured you’d want it back.” It’s quieter. Pained. When he says it. “I haven’t decided anything. So unless you’re kicking me out—” “Buck. Come on.” He’s not angry or snapping. It’s still quiet, and somehow that hurts even more. He’s resigned and defeated, and Buck is a scooped out, gutted, hollow shell. “I know how this ends the same way you do. You want to be loved, you want to be married. You’re going to leave. Might as well…” His voice cracks before he can finish and get it under control. “Shouldn’t drag it out.” ~ Taylor is offered a job across the country and asks Buck to go with her. Buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is.
Color Him Father, Color Him Love by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Post-S6E12 | 3K | General): “Connor was worried he wouldn’t feel like it’s really his kid. But I put him back in Connor’s arms, and I could see the way his face changed. The way he lit up and teared up and might have cried because that is his son. And all I could think was that I know that feeling. I know what it feels like to hold a kid and care about them and want to protect them. But it’s so different when it feels like they’re yours. It’s so much more. Even if you didn’t— Even if it’s not biological and you’re not. You’re not really the father. Because I hold Chris— I hold him and I feel like he is part of me.” ~ Buck has a revelation about what he is to Chris. And to Eddie.
turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you by Daffi_990_ao3/ @daffi-990 (Post-S6, Getting Together | 4K | Not rated): To protect his heart, Eddie pulls away from Buck when he starts dating Natalia. When he decides to move to B-shift, Buck finally confronts him and certain feelings finally come to light.
with blood in my nose by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): The spray of blood hits him, first. And then Buck drops like a fucking stone. or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.
🔥 3 Men 1 Baby by Tizniz/ @tizniz (Canon Divergent, Accidental Baby Acquisition | 21K | General): It’s a good thing the groceries have made it to the table, because the eggs would certainly have cracked from Eddie dropping the bags to the floor. Because Evan Buckley was standing there holding a baby. A baby. OR: Buck, Eddie, and Chim get a baby. Here's what happens.
you can see it with the lights out (you are in love) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Post-S6, Love Confessions | 5K | General): Turns out, Natalia does see Buck, though maybe not in the way he expected. In which Natalia realizes Buck's in love with Eddie and help him see it, too.
we could be corny by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie | 1,6K | General): Or, Chim and Maddie have Buck and Eddie over for their first official couples’ game night.
🔥 Facets of a Diamond by countrygirlsfun/ @acountrygirlsfun (Canon S1-S2 | 35K | Teen): Southern California is where Buck has spent the most time since leaving Pennsylvania. Of all the places he’s lived and worked over the last few years, this place is where he decided to stay. It’s why he picked LAFD: to put down some roots. It’s warm, has the ocean, and it’s the opposite coast of his parents. So if he’s going to be here for a while, he thinks he’ll need to make an effort to let people in.
a little of that human touch by devirnis/ @devirnis (Established Buddie, Secret relationship | 1,5K | General): Buck closes his book and places it on the coffee table, pushing himself up a little more as Eddie trudges over to him. “Couldn’t sleep either?” Buck asks quietly. He wanders over to the far end of the couch and Buck moves his feet out of the way so Eddie can sit down. “Woke up and you were gone,” Eddie murmurs, pulling Buck’s feet into his lap.
you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever by heartbeatdiaz/ @loserdiaz (Getting Together, Valentine's Day | 2K | Teen): The LAFD throws a Valentine's Day charity event, there's a kissing booth and Eddie is definitely not going insane with jealousy.
🔥 Winter Prayer by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Road Trip, Buck&Bobby&May | 18K | General): When a work conflict prevents Athena from accompanying Bobby to Minnesota for the ten year anniversary of his family dying, Buck and May offer to go instead. Over the course of the trip, they all learn more about each other, and Bobby faces his grief.
Fractals from the Lightning Bolt by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (One Shots Collection | 47/54 | 87K | Not Rated): A collection of oneshots, some originally posted on tumblr. Each chapter is individually rated.
47. But What if They Were Secret Dating (S4, Explicit)
You Can't Surprise Evan Buckley by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie, Fluff | 5K | Mature): Ten months into their relationship, Eddie has not been able to execute a romantic surprise for Buck. But on Buck's birthday, things are about to change. (Part 2 of Birthday Surprises & Other Shenanigans)
WIP
because we'll all arrive in heaven alive by callmenewbie/ @puppyboybuckley (Post-S6, Disaster Fic | 1/9 | 7K | Explicit): During a search and rescue, Eddie disappears without a trace, leaving Buck to grapple with the sudden possibility of a life without him.
🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briar / @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 111/? | 315K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.
🔥 A Minor Delay by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Post-S6/S7 Spec | 6/11 | 21K | Mature): Almost a year after the bridge collapse, a lot has changed. The team are scattered—Bobby and Athena on their Honeymoon, Hen on adoptive parent's leave, and Buck and Eddie... They may still work together, still have movie nights with Chris whenever they can, but things have changed. With Maddie and Chimney's wedding around the corner, Buck tries to make it perfect. And maybe, along the way, he might figure out why everything still feels... wrong.
if i need to rearrange my particles — i will for you. by dylaesthetics (Post-S6, Social Media fic | 1/16 | 4K | Teen): OR Buck joins a support app for first responders and matches with a firefighter who has PTSD and a kid who likes giraffes, apparently.
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hungermakesmonsters · 1 month
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Catch Me If You Can
Chapter Twenty-Four
Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R 
Chapter Rating : R - some violence
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Violence and death (as expected tbh), Krista being a mega bitch again, and some vague mentions of Billy's childhood trauma. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 
Word Count : ~5.1k
A/N : The aftermath of the last chapter.
CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE | CHAPTER THIRTEEN | CHAPTER FOURTEEN | CHAPTER FIFTEEN | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN | CHAPTER NINETEEN | CHAPTER TWENTY | CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE | CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO | CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Chapter Twenty-Four
Too late.
He got back to New York too late. It was only a matter of minutes, stuck in traffic with Karen, just around the corner from your apartment when he got the call from Frank, and his whole world came to a halt. It felt like his worst nightmare had come true. He barely heard a thing Frank said after the initial news, the only thing he could hear was a ringing in his ears as his chest got tight and he had to force himself to breathe. 
Karen had to demand he pull over so she could drive, not mentioning the panic attack but giving him concerned glances all the way to the hospital.
But they were late again; you’d been taken for surgery, Frank explained, as he held Karen tight.
Billy knew that he should stay, that he should be there when you woke up. (If you woke you - no, no he couldn’t think like that, he wasn’t going to lose you. He couldn’t lose you.)
He felt lost, still reeling from the panic attack he’d suffered in the car, but he knew he needed to do something. 
“I need you to stay here and tell me when she gets out of surgery -”
“Bill, what the fuck are -” Frank tried to interrupt, but Billy kept on going.
“Her brother should be on the way. I’ll text him to come here instead of the apartment. I should be back by the time -”
“Bill, there ain’t no way I’m letting you go on your own,” Frank let go of Karen and took a step forward.
“Go where? What the fuck are you talking about, she needs...” she fell silent the moment she realised what was going on. “Are you fucking insane?”
“He could’ve killed her. He’s not getting away with that,” Billy answered before looking to Frank. “You should stay here.”
“The hell I am.” Frank countered. Billy knew there was no arguing with him and that they didn’t have time. “Karen, can you stay here and let us know if anything happens?”
“I guess there's no talking you out of this?” She sighed.
“He can't get away with this,” Billy shook his head.
“What about the cops?” She asked. “Can't they -”
“He's already tried to kill her once before, I'm not letting him have a third go,” Billy answered impatiently, “Can you just -”
“Yeah, I’ll keep you up to date. Just be careful,” her gaze lingered on Frank before shifting to Billy, “both of you.”
Both men nodded before heading for Frank’s truck. There was no conversation - there was really nothing to say, they both knew where they were heading and what needed to be done. The only stop was at Anvil, to collect what they needed and change vehicles, all the while acting like everything was perfectly normal and that they weren’t about to do some unspeakable and terrible thing.
There was a blind rage inside of him, the likes of which he’d never felt before. He’d been driven to violence in the past, but he’d never felt it so intensely before. All he could think about was how he could have lost you, how he could still lose you. Frank spoke from time to time, but Billy had no idea what he was saying. He couldn’t hear anything above the ringing in his ears and all of his own panicked thoughts.
He knew that Frank was probably still trying to talk him out of it, telling him that it wasn’t too late to go back to the hospital and wait for you to get out of surgery, but Billy knew that he couldn’t. He couldn’t face you again until he'd put things right, until he knew you’d never be in any danger again.
When the van finally stopped, he looked at Frank, catching the worry on his friend’s face.
“You don't have to do this, Bill,” Frank offered, trying to give his friend a way out. “We could leave it to the cops...”
“What would you do if it was your girl in the hospital?”
Frank hesitated a moment. “I'd tear the fucker limb from limb.”
“Exactly. You should get outta here before anyone sees you, Frankie.” Billy told him, pulling up his hood and grabbing the duffle of supplies he’d packed at Anvil. “I’ll meet you at the hospital later, let me know if...” he couldn’t even bring himself to say it, let alone think about it.
Frank gave a nod and Billy closed the door, stepping away from the car. He took a breath, forcing away every thought except for one; his mission.
They’d known where Scott was staying the moment he got into the city, even though the AirBnB was booked under a fake name and paid for using a store-bought prepaid credit card. Truth was, that Billy had had one of the analysts at Anvil tracking Scott’s movements ever since he found out about the PI, and it had always been his intention to keep you safe without you even knowing. 
But he’d failed. Your decision to come back to New York had made it impossible, and he hadn’t been able to get Frank to you in time to stop Scott from hurting you.
And, now, Scott was going to pay.
Billy moved slowly but purposefully, getting off the street and into the building as quickly as possible. There was no surveillance in the area, but he still couldn’t risk anyone stopping him. Recon showed that the building was mostly empty at the moment; most of the apartments were owned by the same asshole, all put up on AirBnB causing rent prices in the area to skyrocket. A real fucking racket.
But, there was an empty apartment between Scott and the next occupied unit and that was good news for Billy, and he made his way up to the fourth floor completely unnoticed. When he reached the door, Billy dropped to his knees and made quick work of picking the lock.
Once he was in the apartment, he quietly placed the bag down by the door. It didn’t take him long to find his target, lounging on the sofa like he didn’t have a care in the world. The asshole even had his gun just sitting there on the coffee table. Billy took a breath before unsheathing his knife and clearing his throat, alerting Scott to his presence.
He went for the gun on the table, but Billy was faster, his blade cutting so deep into Scott’s wrist that it severed tendons before he could even think about trying to pull the trigger. The gun dropped to the floor and Billy kicked it away, having no use for it.
Scott clutched his bleeding wrist to his chest, staggering backwards.
“What the fuck -”
“Don’t play dumb, Scott. We both know why I’m here; you hurt someone I care about, and I can’t let you keep living after that.” Billy almost smirked at the flash of fear and realisation that spread across Scott’s face.
“You’re the boyfriend, right?” He grit out. “You think that little whore is worth it? Do you even know who I am? Do you know what’ll happen to you if -”
Billy’s boot connected with his stomach, winding him and effectively silencing him. Scott continued to stagger back until his back was against the wall.
“She’s more than worth it,” Billy snarled. “And I know exactly who you are - I know what you are. Your family might be a big deal in Florida but you’re nothing in New York.”
Billy found a sense of satisfaction in the way Scott was practically cowering. It made him think about you, about all the times this piece of shit made you feel scared. Never again. He was going to see to it that you never had to worry about this prick again. And, for all of his posturing, he was pretty sure that Scott had reached the same conclusion that he had; he was about to die.
“I can pay you; just name your price,” he tried a different tack, trying to appeal to Billy as a businessman, pressing himself back against the wall like he thought he still had somewhere to hide.
“You’re gonna pay, just not with money,” He fought back a grin as the distance between them shrank to nothing at all, his blade pressed against Scott’s stomach. “The price is your life for her freedom. I can’t give her back the time you took from her, the time she spent scared and looking over her shoulder, but I can make it so she never has to worry about you again.”
Scott swung an awkward punch, catching Billy on the cheek, and he was repaid with a knee to the stomach.
“You really are pathetic, aren’t you?” Billy let out a huff of laughter, his free arm pinned against Scott’s throat, holding him in place. “Guess that’s why you went after a girl six years younger than you.”
“Are you really prepared to kill for that bitch?” He managed to choke out. “She tell you she loves you? Know how many times she told me that? She’s a liar, she’s -”
Billy pressed forward, the knife sinking in.
“Keep talking, please, give me a reason to make this slow,” he spoke through gritted teeth, face barely inches from Scott’s, struggling to hold himself back, while Scott tried to push him away. “No? You done talking? Not so fucking scary when you’re dealing with a grown man, are you? Guess I’m harder to push around -”
“I loved her!” He managed in an awful, painful gasp, as if that made anything better, as if he thought that might convince Billy that there was a reasonable explanation for what he’d done.
“No,” Billy snapped, twisting the knife. “I love her. And I’d rather die than hurt her like you did.”
He didn’t wait for a response, pulling back the knife before sinking it in, again and again. As he listened to the choked, wet gasps for breath, every ounce of anger came to the fore. He loved you - he loved you so fucking much, and this asshole had tried to take you away from him.
For a few moments he lost himself to it, to the rage and anger and pain inside of him. And the last thing Scott got to hear was Billy repeating those three simple and terrifyingly complicated words; “I love her.”
It wasn’t until he finally stepped back that he realised he wasn’t alone. Frank was there - how long he’d be there, Billy couldn’t say and he didn’t want to guess.
“I told you -”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Frank shrugged, dropping the duffle Billy had left by the door, filled with things they’d need to get rid of the body. “Wasn’t going to leave you to do this alone, brother. We need to get this cleaned up, Karen says they should be finishing surgery soon.”
For a few seconds both men stood, looking at the body and the mess that Billy had created.
“Shit, Bill,” Frank muttered.
“I love her, Frankie,” Billy admitted quietly, sounding more scared than Frank had ever heard him.
Frank placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze. “I know you do. She’s gonna be alright. Doctor’s told Karen it was a through-and-though, didn’t hit anything vital.” 
“Guess this prick was as bad a shot as he was a boyfriend,” Billy shook his head, silently glad of the fact.
“Yeah,” Frank huffed. “Think I saw a suitcase in the hallway big enough to stuff him in.” 
“Right,” Billy nodded, knowing that they needed to get moving, but it took him a moment to tear himself from his thoughts. “I’ll go get some water.”
Both men separated, Frank heading to the hallway to find the suitcase, while Billy made his way to the kitchen to find a bucket.
They barely spoke as they went about wrapping the body in the plastic sheeting cleaning, both knowing that it would never be perfect, but that they could destroy enough evidence to make it almost impossible for anyone to say for certain just what went on.
------------
The room came into focus slowly, your head hurt and it felt like your brain was pulsing behind your eyes. It felt like the worst hangover you’d ever had, only you didn’t remember drinking. In fact, you couldn’t remember much of anything. You closed your eyes, wanting nothing more than to drift off and sleep until the pain stopped, but then you heard it; the beep-beep-beep of a heart rate monitor. For a few terrifying seconds you were transported back in time, back to the moment you woke up in hospital after the crash. 
Your stomach knotted and threatened to turn itself inside out as the sterile smell filled your nose when you tried to take a deep, calming breath. Desperately, you tried to fill in the blanks and understand what had happened; the crash had been years ago, you’d moved to New York, you’d met Billy, you’d been in Mexico...
Billy.
Where was Billy?
A clumsy hand tried to wipe your eyes, hoping to clear your vision a little more, instead finding bandages wrapped around your forehead. And, when you tried to sit, you found that you couldn’t move for the burning, throbbing pain in your abdomen.
“You’re awake,” there was something familiar about the feminine voice, but you couldn’t quite place it.
You struggled to focus on the figure sitting off to the side of your bed, blinking as your vision slowly came back into focus, though her name eluded you for a few, long moments.
“Krista?” Voice betraying your confusion. Why was Krista there?
“Good,” she smiled and shifted a little closer to you, “you remember me.”
“What happened? Why are you here?” Why were you in the hospital? Your eyes drifted from Krista for a moment, taking in the sight of your hospital room, looking for anything that might tell you what was going on.
“You don’t remember?” She asked and you shook your head. “You were shot. Luckily the bullet went right through, but it seems that you hit your head when you fell, which might account for any memory problems you’re having, though short-term memory loss can also be caused by traumatic circumstances. I’ve been asked to evaluate you and find out what you remember.”
“Where’s Billy? Why isn’t Billy here?” You tried desperately to remember the last time you’d seen him. Mexic; at dinner with him and Karen, then you’d gone back to his room and - after that, there was nothing but fuzziness. The monitor next to you started to beep faster as the panic set in. Had something happened to him too?
“We’re not sure where William is. The NYPD are looking for him -”
“Looking for him? Why?” You were struggling to follow what she was trying to tell you and it was starting to frustrate you.
“In connection with your shooting,” she said it like it was obvious, like it was fact. They thought that Billy had done this to you. “He was tracked on a private jet, arriving back in New York an hour before the shooting - from what we’ve managed to put together, you cut your vacation in Mexico short and returned back to the city alone, Billy followed you. After you were shot, his business partner, Frank Castle, found you and brought you to the hospital.”
“No, Billy would never -” your head was pounding and all you wanted to do was close your eyes again, but you knew you couldn’t. “Billy would never hurt me.”
“I know it’s not easy to admit that the man you love is capable of violence, but men with his training and his trauma -”
“What trauma?” You demanded. “You keep acting like he’s some psychopath.”
“What has Billy told you about his childhood?” She answered back with an air of smugness that had you wishing you could get out of bed and punch her.
“Everything,” you answered without hesitation, certain that you knew far more about Billy than she ever would.
“He told you about his shoulder? About Arthur Walsh?” The corner of her lip seemed to curl up ever so slightly. “He told you about the assault?”
“Yes,” you answered, not bothering to hold back your annoyance, “I know that he tried -”
“Tried? Is that what Billy told you?” you were speechless, your mind racing over the implications of her words. “Ask yourself this; why would a man like Billy, a man with an ego like his, ever admit to being hurt like that unless he was using that admission to distract from something worse. He wasn’t the only victim of Arthur Walsh, do you really think he was the only who was able to -”
“Even if that’s true, it’s not your place to tell me,” you snapped, not willing to sit there and listen to her trying to expose Billy over something that might never have happened, not when you knew that she wasn’t saying it to be helpful, she was trying to destroy Billy. “Why are you so obsessed with wanting him to be broken? He’s not going to go back to you, Krista.”
“I’ve seen hundreds of men like William, they all snap and hurt someone eventually. At least I know how to control a dangerous man like William.” She answered back.
“He’s not dangerous, and he didn’t do this to me. He’d never hurt me - you can tell the cops that.”
“Because he loves you?” Her professional facade almost dropped completely and you could hear the derision in her words. “I wonder, has he managed to say the words yet?”
“Get out!” You finally screamed, the monitor besides you along with your screaming was enough to alert a doctor to your distress. “Get the fuck out, Krista!” 
She was quickly removed from your room and you were given assurances that she wouldn’t be allowed to return. The doctor took the opportunity to check your injuries and give you something extra for the pain that helped you drift off to sleep again.
A couple of hours passed before you woke again, this time feeling a little sharper than before. There was a hand holding yours tight and, for a few moments, you assumed that it was Billy. But, as you opened your eyes, you realised that wasn’t the case.
“Sam?” Again, you found yourself reliving the hours after the crash and how you’d found him at your bedside, just like this.
“Hey,” he struggled for a moment, obviously not sure what to say to you, “how are you feeling? Do you need me to get you a doctor?”
“No, I - I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“Your boyfriend called me.” You didn’t miss the clipped way he referred to Billy. “What the fuck have you gotten yourself into this time?”
You weren’t sure what it was about the moment, whether it was the worry on your brother’s face, the tremor in his voice, or the fact that you hadn’t seen him in over two years, but you found yourself bursting into floods of tears. You hated that this was how you were seeing him again, and how you felt so pathetic and useless because of it. It felt like he’d been proven right; that you couldn’t take care of yourself.
It was overwhelming and all you could do was sob at how out of control you felt.
“I’m sorry,” you told him as he tried to hold you without hurting you.
“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to apologise,” he muttered softly, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you.”
It took a few minutes for you to calm down enough to speak properly but Sam didn’t pressure you to talk, dropping back to his chair and keeping a tight grip on your hand. As upsetting as the whole situation was, you were glad that he was there with you.
“I don’t know what happened,” you told him, sniffling back more tears, trying to control the tremor in your voice. “The cops think it was Billy - it wasn’t, he’d never hurt me.”
“I know,” Sam answered with an unexpected certainty. “It was Scott. That’s how I got here so fast; Billy let me know that Scott was in New York looking for you. The cops know he didn’t do it.”
If Billy knew that Scott had done this to you, and he knew he was in New York...
“Where is he?” You demanded, voice threatening to break. “Where’s Billy?”
“He’s fine. That’s all you need to know.” There was something in his voice you didn’t like. He knew what was going on but he was deliberately keeping it from you, trying to protect you by keeping you in the dark. “He’s on his way here now.”
“But -” there were so many questions, so many things that you needed to know, but your brother shushed you.
“Don’t worry about it. The only thing you need to think about is resting, we’re taking care of everything.” Though his words did little to quell all of the panicked thoughts.
“I don’t want to stay here,” you told him suddenly. “I don’t like hospitals.”
“I know,” he sighed, squeezing your hand, “I promise I’ll get you out of here as soon as I can. Just close your eyes and rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
As much as you didn’t want to, you soon found your eyes drifting shut again, exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that was happening, and the pain medication certainly wasn’t helping. Sam kept hold of your hand until you started to fall asleep again, drifting in and out of consciousness. 
You were half asleep when you heard Billy’s voice and you had to force your eyes open to make sure that he was really there and that you weren’t just dreaming it. The rough sound of Sam’s voice and the unmistakable sound of someone getting hit was enough to drag you out of your dream-like state. Your eyes opened in time to see Billy staggering backwards and frank stepping between him and your brother, trying to separate them.
“Guess I deserved that,” Billy grumbled, running a hand over his cheek.
“Damn right you do, you let this happen -”
“I was trying to keep her safe,” Billy spat back.
“Yeah, well, you did a shit job, didn’t you? She could’ve died, she -”
“Stop!” You interrupted, reminding everyone of your presence.
Whatever Billy might have wanted to say to Sam quickly died on his lips, and he moved to your side, taking your hand in his and leaning to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he muttered, his voice cracking, threatening to break.
“I won’t, I’m so sorry.” You told him, squeezing his hand as tight as you could, all but forgetting that there was anyone else in the room with you. 
Billy seemed to forget too, pulling the chair beside your bed closer so he could sit and keep hold of your hand, his entire attention focused on you. Frank muttered something to Sam and, reluctantly, your brother agreed to leave you alone with Billy for a little while. 
“What happened?” You dared to ask. “Last thing I remember, we were still in Mexico with Karen.”
“We had a stupid argument. You got upset with me, remember?” Billy sighed. There was a fuzzy memory in the back of your mind, a feeling of worry that you couldn’t quite place, but that was all. You shook your head. “You realised I was hiding something from you, but I didn’t want to tell you, so you left...”
“You knew about Scott,” and suddenly everything made sense.
“After that day at Anvil, I had one of our analysts start tracking him. When I found out he was heading to New York, I knew I couldn’t let you come home until we’d figured out a way to deal with him.”
“Deal with him?” You repeated as your stomach started to tie itself in knots. “Billy... what did you do?” Though you weren’t sure you wanted an answer.
He reached for you, gently brushing your hair away from your face as he let out a soft sigh. “I did what I had to,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to keep you safe, but I made sure he’ll never hurt you again.”
“Billy...” you didn’t dare ask for clarification, almost certain you knew exactly what he was confessing to. Maybe you should have felt more than you did in that moment but, honestly, all you felt was relief. He’d killed a man to keep you safe and you did feel safe, you felt safer than you had in years, like you could finally breathe.
“I couldn’t risk him ever hurting you again,” his gaze lowered and his head hung forward. You could tell he was scared of what you might be thinking.
Reaching for him, you softly cupped his bruised cheek, gently urging him to look at you but, when he did, you found yourself lost for words for a few moments. What were you supposed to say? You couldn’t thank him for killing someone, and it wasn’t your place to forgive him.
“It’s okay, Billy,” is what you settled on.
“I thought I was gonna lose you,” he admitted, your heart skipping a beat at the panic in his voice, hating how vulnerable he sounded.
“The doctors say I’m gonna be fine,” you tried to reassure him, not wanting him to linger on dark thoughts like that.
“I love you,” he all but blurted out like it might be his last chance. “I should’ve told you sooner, I should’ve told you months ago. I never would’ve forgiven myself if you’d died and I hadn’t -”
“I know,” you told him softly, your thumb brushing against his cheek. “I’ve always known, Billy. You never had to say it, you’ve always shown me how much you love me.” His relief was palpable as he leaned in to press his lips to yours. Your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, holding him in the kiss for a few, sweet moments, before you muttered against his lips; “can you stay with me a little while? I - I don’t like hospitals...”
“Sweetheart, nothing is going to make me leave your side,” he smiled, sitting back and softly stroking your hair with his free hand. 
It was enough to have you closing your eyes again. “I love you, Billy.”
“I love you too.”
When your eyes opened again, the room was mostly dark, save for the light that spilled in from the hallway. Billy was still with you, his head resting on folded arms on the edge of the bed, fast asleep. You couldn’t resist the urge to run your fingers through his hair, though you immediately felt guilty the moment he stirred. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he muttered sleepily, not bothering to lift his head.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you told him, fingers still running through his hair. “You look tired.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll sleep when I get you home in a day or two,” he smiled up at you. 
The low light in the room almost hid the bruising on his cheek until he turned his head a little and you found yourself reaching for his cheek.
“This looks sore.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“I’m sorry about Sam,” you muttered, inspecting the damage.
“I deserved it. He was right, I should’ve done more to stop this,” he shrugged. 
You hated that he was making this all his fault, acting like there was anything he could have done to stop things, like he believed he should have been able to predict the future. But, you knew you weren’t going to change his mind, at least not while you were still laying in a hospital bed.
“What’s going to happen now?” Keeping your voice to little more than a whisper so you couldn’t be overheard.
“What d’you mean?” He asked, finally lifting his head a little.
“About... y’know, Scott...” you whispered, “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“Me and Frank took care of it, don’t worry. Nothing bad is going to happen. Nothing bad is going to happen to you ever again, sweetheart, I promise.”
While his promise made you smile, you couldn’t help but shake your head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Billy.”
His hand moved, covering yours and holding it against his cheek. “I mean it. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe and happy. You’re mine, sweetheart, and I protect what’s mine.”
You fell silent again, letting your eyes close, his hand still on yours, just enjoying being with each other again. But there was something else in the back of your mind, a thought that wouldn’t go away now matter how much you wanted it to.
“Billy, Krista was here when I woke up,” opening your eyes, you watched for a response and noticed his shoulder tick upwards. 
“What did she want?”
“She tried to convince me that you were the one who shot me,” you told him. “I didn’t believe her, but then she...” you stopped, not sure you wanted to say anything. You didn’t want to ask him about it, didn’t want to put him on the spot. It wasn’t your place, just like it hadn’t been hers, but just thinking about it made your heart ache.
“What?” He gently prompted, even though you were certain he didn’t want to hear it.
“She said something about when you were a kid, when you were hurt...” you paused again and, this time, Billy didn’t prompt you to continue. The silence hung for a round thirty seconds while you decided what you wanted to say. “Whatever happened that day, I just - I want you to know that there’s nothing that could make me stop loving you.”
Billy stayed silent but you saw the way he awkwardly tried to swallow the lump in his throat. And there was something about his discomfort in that moment that helped you remember Mexico, the night you’d left his room. You remembered the argument about his panic attacks.
“I’m sorry,” you broke the silence. “I don’t want to be like Krista. I don’t want to treat you the way she did.”
“You don’t,” he shook his head, pressing your hand tighter against his cheek.
“Can you just promise me one thing?” 
“Anything,” he answered without hesitation.
“I don’t need to know what causes the panic attacks, I just need to know you’re okay,” you explained as delicately as you could. “So, can you promise me that if you’re ever not okay, you’ll let me know? You don’t even need to tell me why, I just need to know so I can be there for you.”
His answer wasn’t immediate and, for a moment, you could have sworn you saw a tear in the corner of his eye.
“I promise,” he all but whispered as he leaned in to kiss you again before muttering against your lips, “I love you so much.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
END NOTES :  I just want to say I loved the responses to last chapter, and I really hope this chapter lives up to the hype? It was weird trying to write Billy's POV from second person, but hopefully it didn't turn out too bad. IDK if people were expecting more from Billy confronting Scott but, ultimately I decided that Scott was a piece of shit and not worth Billy's time or effort - just in case anyone was wondering lmao.
Anyway, I'm not 100% sure yet but I think next week might actually be the last chapter of this story (or I might do one more chapter and a separate epilogue). But I'm honestly just so happy that people seem to have enjoyed reading this, and I'm so thankful for all the support and lovely messages I've received over the course of this story!
If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)
TAG LIST
@lincerad @sweetserendipity65 @rafaelakelley   @slayerofthevampire @rensolodriver @lovelydoveval   @doloreschanal  @damagelove @danzer8705   @unlikelystarlightcowboy @schlotzshewrote  @bisexualbith   @uncontainedsmiles  @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes  @lilliesofmay  @billyrussoslut @readingabouthim  @arwensloanebarnes  @scarlettrikstr @daughterofautumn  @ashlynhasmanyhyperfixations @rosesintj @bunnygirlwriter876  @maddiedrmr @naabbie @arieltwvdtohamflash @yukimaniac
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saras-almanac · 3 days
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BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past
BuckTommyWeekend Day 2: A figure from their past
Title:  What we have
Fandom:  911 (ABC)
Pairing:  Buck/Tommy
Summary:  Buck had complicated feelings after they run into Abby. Luckily, Tommy is there to comfort him. For the prompt: A figure from their past for @bucktommyweek
Notes: I have a lot of thoughts about Abby and her relationship with Buck (plus just thoughts on her character in general). And this is a part of something much longer I’d written but it was just bits and pieces—the meeting, the aftermath, Tommy talking with Athena or Maddie, this scene—just too much going on and too much to write in a day when my brain was still coming up with the actual idea for this. So this is what I’ve got.  
Tommy hadn’t thought much of this meeting Abby at the time. Apparently she was in town for some meeting or other for one of her stepdaughters and him and Evan had happened to run into her as they were leaving the restaurant they had brunch at.
Evan had gotten a bit quiet but smiled and politely introduced him as “This is Tommy,” before Abby started telling him about her life. It was about three minutes of a quick catch up before Evan and him continued on their way out and honestly, Tommy hadn’t thought it was strange.
But now It’s been over a week since he’d last seen Evan and he was trying not to worry or get caught up in his own head about what this all might mean. He was off today, so maybe Tommy could convince him to meet up for lunch or at least just talk later today.
Thankfully the doorbell rang at that moment, pulling Tommy out of his potential spiral.
He opened the door and there stood Evan, holding two coffees and a bag of food.
“I brought coffee and burritos,” Evan said.
Tommy ushered him in and followed him to the kitchen. “It’s been a minute. But I’m happy to see you.”
“Me too.” Evan set everything on the counter, dropping his duffel on the floor, and then turned to him, basically wrapping himself around Tommy.
“Is everything all right?”” Tommy asked.
“Yes,” Evan said. “I mean, it’s getting there?”
“Would you want to tell me about what you’re thinking about?” Tommy asked, pulling away and gently pushing Evan toward the stool by his counter. “While you eat a little something.”
Evan sat down but made no move toward his food. He sighed. “I told you about Abby. My ex. The one we ran into a couple weeks ago.”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I mean, a little.”
“Right, well seeing her sort of threw me off—Not because I’m dating you or freaking out about my bisexuality and stuff,” Evan rushed to reassure him. “It just… I guess it just brought a lot of old feelings, things that trigged some old insecurities. And I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, it’s been years and looking back, it’s not even like we were really together together so I don’t know really what happened.”
“Feelings can be surprising,” Tommy said. “They come back around in the strangest ways sometimes.”
“Yeah,” Evan said. “But I don’t even think about her anymore. I don’t. I’m not like in love with her or want her back or anything--I swear.”
“I didn’t think you did, but thank you for the reassurance,” Tommy said. “Seeing people who used to play a big part in our lives brings up a lot of emotions. And that’s okay.”  
“That’s what Dr. Copeland said too,” Evan said shaking his head. “I called her because it just triggered a lot of feelings, feelings of insecurity that I thought I’d dealt with. But when you come face-to-face with your biggest failure those feelings can come back.”
“You and Abby not working out is not a failure,” Tommy said.
“I know that. Now,” Evan said. “But it’s what happened when I saw her again. It was my first relationship where I did everything right. I followed everyone’s advice, everyone’s ideas, followed Abby’s lead. I did everything I was supposed to. And she left anyway. Which, I don’t have to tell you made me panic and worry about you, about us.”
“Well, I’d argue that we haven’t’ done anything right in the way that other people would have it or do it,” Tommy said, nudging Evan with his shoulder. “But I also can’t’ say that we’ve done nothing right because a look where we are, what we have.”
“That’s what I realized,” Evan admitted. “At least part of it.”
“What’s the other part?” Tommy asked.
“So it’s like this,” Evan said, amping up and already starting to gesture with his hands. “I think I thought so highly of Abby for so long, right? She was this woman who was mature and knew what she wanted and had a whole life and still wanted me; it’s like she made me better or at least want to be a better man. And after she left, I was terrified that she’d taken that part of me with her, the mature Buck, the guy who was dependable and worthy.”
Tommy clenched his jaw because he hated hearing Evan talk about himself in terms of worthiness or usefulness. Granted, it was a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, but Tommy usually operated under a “do as I say, not as I do” policy.
“And seeing her again, seeing her with you just put so much into perspective for me,” Evan said. “I always thought of her as my first real relationship, but seeing her next to you, knowing what we have, how you treat me, it finally dawned on me that we didn’t have a relationship. Or we did, but like not the one I wanted, the one I thought we had.”
Tommy gently moved the coffees out of the way. “And what was that?”
“I thought we had this amazing relationship where we could be ourselves, someone I could share myself with and someone who wanted that too,” Evan said. “But I think I was just a physical presence for her during a hard time in her life. Someone who was there, who helped shoulder some of the weight, and then someone she just left behind because I didn’t matter to her. Not like I wanted to.”
Evan sighed. “And then I just saw her standing next to you and couldn’t help but think about all the things you know about me, the things you like about me, and I realized that she never really knew me at all.”
“It doesn’t sound like she did,” Tommy said gently, carefully. “Because if she had, I doubt she’d have been able to leave.”
“See and that,” Evan said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s hand. “You’d never do that to me. To anyone really. You’d never just take off, knowing you were done with me, without telling me. Yeah, it would crush me to lose you, but you’d still at least tell me. You wouldn’t leave me hanging on, waiting for any words of our future when you had no plans to come back.”
Evan squeezed his hand between both of his. “I just, I love you so much and I feel so lucky to have you in my life that sometimes I panic that I’m not quite good enough for you. And I want to be.”
Tommy reached out, cradling Evan’s cheek in his hand. “You are good enough. You’re more than good enough for me.”
“Even when I’m having a crisis and stupidly keep myself from you for 12 days?” Evan asked.
“Even then,” Tommy assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.
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bullet-prooflove · 1 year
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Choices!Series Part 6: Run - Nestor Oceteva x Reader
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Tagging: @annetje @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @drabbles-mc @alwaysachorusgirl @witches-unruly-heart @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @the-wandering-lunatic
Part One: First Date (NSFW) - Nester and you have an unusual first date.
Part Two: Familia - (Feat: Marcus Alvarez) - Marcus discovers your relationship.
Part Three: Fair Trade - Miguel makes a proposal.
Part Four: Slaughterhouse Rules - Nestor deals with the aftermath.
The problem is Miguel Galindo, you want to kill him. You want to invade his fucking fortress up in the hills, put a plastic bag over his head and suffocate the other man until he understands what it is to pray for death. That impulse is all you can think about, it vibrates through your brain keeping you up at night. You’ve had this before with the others, and the only thing that resolved it was their destruction.
The Major, Jonesy, Matthews, DuPont, you see their faces in your dreams, the aftermath of their ruin. You see the bravo fade out of their eyes when they feel the first cut, and then the second, when they realise that you have no intention of ending it quickly or keeping them alive. They’d thought you were soft because of your gender.  You can still remember the disbelief in their eyes as you sit in their kitchen chairs, or on their tables, watching them bleed out slowly. You want them to feel each agonising breath, you want them to feel a fraction of what you felt as you fought and kicked and screamed in an abandoned Afghan home as they stood outside the door and fucking listened.
Just like Miguel had fucking watched as that animal tried to choke the life out of you. You’d had your choices stripped away from you all over again. The past echoing once more into your present.
If he was anyone else you would have hurt him, you would have shown him what it was like to have your control taken away, to feel truly powerless. But you didn’t because you couldn’t do that to Nestor. You couldn’t murder the only family he had left; you couldn’t inflict that pain upon him. And there was the issue.
The man you hated and the man you loved, entwined so precariously together.
Every time you tried to explain it to Nestor the words died in your throat because you knew the position it would put him in, you knew that you would be forcing him to choose.
The lover he’d known for only a pocket of time, or the man he’d grown up.
In the end you made the choice for him.
In the dead of night, while he sleeps, you take your go bag from the closet and you run.
You run as far away from San Padre as you possibly can.
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You’re a mess, you try to hide it, but Nestor sees it. He sees everything when it comes to you. You play with your food instead of eating it, when he wakes up in the night it’s to an empty bed because you’re up pacing or out running, anything to get rid of the thoughts that plague you.
It’s hypervigilance, he’s seen it before, felt it himself. The work the two of you do leaves you with a healthy dose of paranoia. He doesn’t know how to help you because when you do talk, you don’t tell him everything. There’s something stabbing at you underneath the surface, something you can’t bring yourself to say. He can’t force it out of you.
When you leave, he half expects it because this thing between the two of you it isn’t working, and he doesn’t know how to help you.
 What you need isn’t here, it isn’t him.
Love Nestor? Get added to his tag list!
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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pugpugpusheen · 5 months
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2023 Fic Wrap
I know it's not the end of December, but I'm bored while working so here are ALL the fics I wrote in 2023
January
Consensual Workplace Relationship: 2dace, 2d and Ace let the others know they're in a relationship One Plan One Wish: Gen Russel predicted a door will appear in the sky, but things don't go according to plan A Kiss Will Make it Better: Gen Noodle scrapes her knee and 2d uses a technique he learned from his mom to make it feel better. Power of a Word: 2doc Murdoc calls 2d "faceache" and it brings back bad memories. Never Alone: either Gen or Russdoc Russel sees the grim reaper in his room and seeks refuge in a different room that just so happens to be Murdoc's That Sleeping on the Couch Feel: Gen 2d falls asleep on the couch and the day still continues Home: 2doc 2d is asked a question and thinks about the answer to it Who Will Tie My Shoes?: Gen or 2doc and 2dace Murdoc has always taken to the task of tying 2d's shoes. Then he's not there and Ace takes over. Spin the Bottle to Begin: 2dace The band plays spin the bottle and it leads to a relationship Better Than That: 2dace Rated M Ace treats 2d to something and 2d notices a habit Ace does, but that does not deter Ace Meeting Snooze: Gen The band is in a meeting and Noodle is bored. Love Drunk: 2dace 2d and Ace go to a club and 2d gets drunk God Without a Halo: Gen Murdoc thinks about 2d going over to the other cult. Rings: 2doc 2d gets Murdoc a ring, which Murdoc happened to also have done Beat the Drums for Who: Gen Russel wonders why he plays the drums Someone Must Get Hurt: Gen Two Chapters 2d and Murdoc have an argument and Russel deals with the aftermath
February
Comfort Within Each Other: 2doc 2d and Murdoc decide to go to bed early Overwhelmed: Gen 2d has a panic attack and Cyborg Noodle walks him through it Adventure Game: Gen 2d and Noodle play a game that includes fireworks To Look Beautiful: Gen 2d puts on makeup Cleansing Oil: 2dace 2d washes Ace's hair To Soothe a Bassist: Gen or 2doc Murdoc throws a fit while writing a song and 2d calms him down A Card for Friends: Gen 2d hands out Valentine cards Monologue and Comfort: Gen Rated M Murdoc gets drunk and stumbles into Russel's room, where he talks about his past When Your Legs Don't Want to Work: 2doc 2d gives Murdoc a piggy back ride Everything's Just Wonderful: 2dace Ace wakes up with 2d laying on him and they get started on their day Watching the Rain: Gen Murdoc and Noodle watch the rain When We Reunite: 2doc Murdoc and 2d go grocery shopping, but 2d keeps wandering away Conversation Within Silence: 2dace 2d and Ace have phone calls, but the silence worries 2d
March
Words of Encouragement: Gen Ace is feeling down about being away from his gang for so long. Noodle cheers him up. Sandwiches for Two: Gen 2d makes Murdoc a sandwich I For You and You for Me: 2doc All the ways 2d and Murdoc understand and comfort each other. Animal Attraction: 2doc Rated M Murdoc learns something new about 2d while they get into bedroom activities. That Awooga Feeling: 2dace Rated M 2d and Ace get into bedroom activities The Rock: Gen or 2dace However 2d felt Ace was always there to support and comfort him The Coffee/Tea Date: 2doc Murdoc takes 2d to a coffee shop Behind a Title: 2doc Murdoc muses on being called "boyfriend" when he prefers "partner" It's Just Begun: 2doc Murdoc and 2d are arguing and Murdoc thinks of how they got to this point The First Time: 2doc Rated M 2d and Murdoc have sex for the first time Three Flowers and Rum: 2doc 2d leaves flowers on Murdoc's bed in the hopes of starting something
April
Welcome Home Katsu: Gen Noodle brings home a cat to Murdoc's displeasure Shut Doors: Gen Noodle hates when the doors are closed because that's a sign that something is not right. Atonement: Gen Russel just caught Murdoc and Paula in the act and acted on instinct. Now it was time to make up for that action. The One Month Mark: 2doc Murdoc reflects on his relationship with 2d Slip of the Tongue: Gen Noodle needs help with her homework and Murdoc helps her Spend the Night: Gen Ace is in bed when 2d knocks on his door Let's Rock the House: Gen Noodle is nervous and 2d calms her down. Years later it's Noodle who calms 2d down.
May
Their World: Gen Noodle compares herself and the boys to things in the world Coming Out of the Other End of Sickness: 2doc 2d is finally awake after being sick all day and having Murdoc take care of him.
June:
The Other First Time: 2dace Rated M Ace and 2d have sex together for the first time
July
Our Space: Nuace Noodle and Ace are watching television
August
Just Another Night: 2dace and Nuace Ace, Murdoc, 2d, and Noodle watch television
September
Joyous Moment: 2dace 2d and Ace share a moment Taxes and Company: Nuace Ace chills out in Noodle's room while she works on taxes Soft Hands Under Stars: 2dace Ace and 2d stand under a starry night sky Yellow: 2doc 2d guesses Murdoc's favorite color
October
Breather: Ace/Reader Ace walks in on you being frustrated about school work and helps you. Late Night: 2dace Ace and 2d watch zombie movies and fall asleep on the floor. Getting to Know Each Other: Gen Ace has come in to fill in for Murdoc and Russel has a bad feeling, but is proven wrong. A Walk and a Kiss: Nuace Noodle and Ace are taking a stroll back to the house when Ace gets the courage to kiss her.
November
Waltz on Rainbow Road: 2doc 2d zones out and imagines a scenario with Murdoc One of Those Days: Gen 2d has a migraine so Murdoc brings him tea and toast. Break: 2doc 2d and Murdoc are working on a song when Murdoc decides to take a break at 2d's suggestion. Birthday Rules: Ace/Reader It's your birthday and Ace takes you out and gives you some rules to life. Band Geek: Gen Noodle asks the boys what kind of students they were in high school. 2d comes up with what kind Ace was. Interlocked Hands: 2doc Murdoc notices 2d is holding his hand.
December:
The Star: Gen or 2dace Ace watches 2d eat a booger The Jigsaw Puzzle: Gen 2d and Cyborg Noodle complete a Jigsaw puzzle.
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Seven Several Sentences Sunday
Fanonwriter2023 on AO3
Where CANON and FANON collide!
Season 7 FANON Speculation: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading
“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Chapter 12 - Will be posted soon.
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I’m excited to keep working on Chapter 12 because in Chapter 11, after their argument on Friday, September 1st, Buck and Eddie made their love confessions and they shared their first kiss. By the end of the chapter, they had spent all three days of the Labor Day weekend talking. On Monday, September 4th, before Buck returned to the loft, they discussed if they would tell anyone they're together and they decided to only tell Chris the next time they're both available since Eddie's Paramedic Certification Course starts Tuesday, September 5th and Buck told Eddie he wanted to schedule a Cancer Screening. There's still a lot more to come especially since they're getting ready for their first "official" date as a couple. Also, Buck told Eddie he wants to find his biological father who lives in London, England and he asked Eddie if him and Chris will go with him👀✈️.
“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”
Currently 11 chapters completed: 296.3K Words Rated: Mature
One chapter will be posted at a time.
___________
Here's a snippet from Chapter 12 of one of Buck's and Eddie's conversations.
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Buck’s watching Eddie prepare dinner and even though he’s happy Eddie finally knows how to cook, he has to admit, he’s a little jealous since he wanted to teach him how to do it.
He stops slicing the tomatoes for the salad and asks, “Why didn’t you ask me to teach you how to cook?”
Eddie turns around and raises his eyebrows. “What?”
“I mean, um... you know Bobby taught me and I know how to cook so… I’m trying to figure out why you didn’t learn how until after you left the 118.”
Eddie moves his head from side to side then admits, “It just kind of happened and it wasn't intentional.  Linda and I would talk about food and coffee every day and it progressed to us trading recipes.”
“But we were still talking to each other so... why didn’t you ask me?”
Eddie can hear the jealousy in Buck’s voice.  He knows he’ll never admit he is but he's seen how Buck reacted in the past when he was dating someone and even though other people didn't catch it, he did since he knows Buck inside and out.
He chuckles.  “Buck?”  He sits the spoon he's using to stir the rice on top of the stove, steps in front of him, wraps his arms around his waist and says, “From now on… you’re the only person I want to teach me how to do anything... including cook.”  He smiles then he kisses Buck on the cheek. “Are you happy now?”
Buck smiles brightly because he is happy since Eddie's going to let him teach him how to cook some of the recipes he knows. He leans in and kisses him nice and slow and after he breaks the kiss, he smiles again. “Yes... because I’m going to teach you my famous lasagna recipe.”
“That’s right, you said you perfected Bobby’s recipe and added four more cheeses so I can’t wait for you to teach me how to prepare it.”
“You and Chris are going to love it.”
___________
This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!
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Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.
__________
Chapter Summaries
Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.
Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.
Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.
Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.
Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.
Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.
Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.
Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.
Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.
Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.
Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.
Chapter 12 - Will be posted soon.
__________
Read chapters 1-11 are available on AO3.
Continue reading on AO3
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estrellawrites · 1 year
Text
a/n: contains spoilers for WandaVision - set in the aftermath of it
Love Beyond Trauma
warnings: mentions of grief and loss
summary: after the events in Westview, Wanda Maximoff is finding it hard to adjust to a world without her children and Vision. When she meets y/n, a patient and kind therapist, Wanda starts to heal.
enjoy!
It had been months since the events of Westview, and yet Wanda Maximoff still felt as lost and broken as ever. The grief and guilt weighed heavily on her heart, and no matter how hard she tried to bury it, the pain always seemed to resurface. She had tried everything to move on, from staying away from people to focusing on her powers, but nothing seemed to work. It was like a deep wound that refused to heal, no matter how many bandages she put on it.
One day, while taking a walk around a nearby park, Wanda stumbled upon a small building with a sign that read "Therapy and Counseling Services." Intrigued, she walked inside, hoping to find some solace in talking to a professional.
That's when she met Y/N, a kind-hearted and patient therapist who immediately put her at ease. They started with small talk, but as the conversation progressed, Wanda found herself opening up about her past and the events that led to her becoming the Scarlet Witch. Y/N listened intently, without judgement or bias, and slowly, Wanda started to feel a sense of relief. For the first time in months, she felt like she wasn't alone in her pain.
As the weeks went by, Wanda and Y/N's relationship grew deeper. They would talk about everything from their favorite books to their childhood memories. And though Wanda still struggled with her grief, Y/N's presence made it a little easier to bear. One day, as they sat on the couch, Wanda mustered up the courage to ask Y/N out on a date. Y/N smiled warmly, and Wanda felt her heart race with anticipation. Their first date was simple yet meaningful. They went to a local coffee shop and talked about their dreams and aspirations. Wanda found herself opening up even more to Y/N, and she felt a sense of warmth and safety in their company. As they parted ways, Y/N leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Wanda's cheek. It was a small gesture, but it left Wanda feeling happier than she had in months.
Over the next few weeks, Wanda and Y/N's relationship grew stronger. They went on more dates, and Wanda found herself feeling more and more comfortable in Y/N's presence. She didn't feel judged or pitied for her past, but rather loved and accepted for who she was. And though they hadn't shared a physical intimacy yet, the closeness they shared was enough to make Wanda feel complete. But as much as Wanda tried to move on, the events of Westview continued to haunt her. She still had nightmares about her lost loved ones and the people she hurt. And though she tried to hide it from Y/N, she knew she couldn't keep it up forever. One day, while in the middle of a therapy session, Wanda broke down. She cried and let out all her pain and sorrow, and Y/N listened intently, holding her hand and offering words of comfort. Wanda felt vulnerable and exposed, but at the same time, she felt a sense of relief. She didn't have to pretend to be strong or hide her pain anymore. She had someone who accepted her for who she was, flaws and all.
After the session, Wanda and Y/N sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Y/N spoke up.
"Wanda, I know you're going through a lot right now, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. I care about you deeply, and I want to help you heal."
Wanda felt a surge of gratitude towards Y/N. She had never met anyone as kind and understanding as them. She knew she could trust Y/N with her pain, and that made her feel safe.
"Thank you, Y/N," Wanda whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you."
"You don't have to do anything alone," Y/N said, placing a hand on Wanda's shoulder. "We'll get through this together."
And with those words, Wanda knew that she had found someone she could rely on. Someone who would be there for her through thick and thin. Over the next few weeks, Y/N helped Wanda through her grief and guilt. They worked on coping mechanisms and strategies to deal with the trauma of Westview. And slowly but surely, Wanda started to heal. It wasn't an easy journey, but with Y/N by her side, Wanda felt like she could overcome anything. They would talk about their progress and their setbacks, and Y/N would always offer words of encouragement. And one day, as they sat on the couch, Wanda mustered up the courage to tell Y/N that she loved them. Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, but then a warm smile spread across their face.
"I love you too, Wanda," Y/N said, pulling Wanda into a tight embrace.
Wanda felt a sense of completeness wash over her. She had found someone who loved her for who she was, scars and all. From that moment on, their relationship took on a new level of intimacy. They shared kisses and cuddles, and Wanda felt like she had found her home in Y/N's arms. But as happy as they were, they both knew that they had to face the past. Wanda still had to make amends for the people she had hurt, and Y/N knew that they couldn't ignore the trauma that Wanda had experienced. So together, they faced their demons. They reached out to the people Wanda had hurt and tried to make things right. They also worked on strategies to deal with Wanda's nightmares and flashbacks. It wasn't an easy process, but with Y/N's support, Wanda felt like she could do anything. She had found someone who believed in her, and that made all the difference.
Months went by, and Wanda and Y/N's relationship only grew stronger. They had faced their demons together and come out stronger for it. And one day, as they sat on the couch, Wanda felt a surge of happiness wash over her. She knew that she had found someone who would be by her side no matter what, and that made her feel like she could conquer the world.
"I'm just glad I could be here for you," Y/N replied, their eyes filled with love. "I love you, Wanda."
"I love you too, Y/N," Wanda said, leaning in for a kiss.
And as they kissed, Wanda felt like she had finally found the healing she had been searching for. With Y/N by her side, she knew that she could face anything the future held.
They had healed their wounds together, and that was all that mattered.
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erodasfishtacos · 3 years
Text
#HendallReunited
prompt: request was to write broad but to write something angsty
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: language, sexual content, angst
Harry always had issues with saying ‘no’ to people. He never quite grew out of his manners even when he should have.
He said ‘yes’ to way too many things- signing autographs for rude fans and paparazzi, and agreed to way too many things Jeff suggested.
Saying yes to everything didn’t make his life any easier is the thing. Especially when it came to his wife. She was usually left with the aftermath of him being too nice.
The media painted Y/N in a negative light occasionally and so did the fans because she would stand up for Harry and not let him say ‘yes’ to every single request.
She would tell disrespectful fans he’s not signing autographs because of the way they were screaming and interrupting his work.
Harry wished he could do it himself - admired that his wife didn’t give a fuck what people thought about her. He cared entirely too much what the world would think.
The couple didn’t fight about much - no, not really. Normal couple stuff for the most part. But this was the exception, this is where Y/N found most of their turmoil.
Every few months it would rear it’s ugly head and they’d find themselves in the same position over and over again.
This time - it was really fucking bad.
The couple had been staying in their Los Angeles home for the last few months whilst the singer finalized his album and began promotion.
It was boring meeting among boring lunch outings to get all their ducks in a row. Jeff - his manager the main orchestrator.
He was a great manager and a good friend, but it was also business too which Harry didn’t always comprehend.
At the end of the day, Harry was making Jeff millions upon millions of dollars. But Harry didn’t think that way.
**
Harry was in a stuffy conference room at the The Late Late Show to work on the script and ideas for the show. Promo had been nonstop.
He was a bit tired as it was nearly just hitting eight in the morning and he had been up late with you - having some late night loving in the hot tub.
“As for guest - Kendall Jenner,” James Corden’s producer states. All the men agree but Harry is taken aback.
“Why...why would we have my ex-girlfriend as one of my guests?” Harry interrupts, confusion knitting his brows.
Kendall and him didn’t end on a bad note - not at all. They hooked up a few times after their ‘break-up’ but once he’d met Y/N she was understanding when he cut it off.
Y/N wasn’t necessarily jealous of the model, but didn’t love when they’d run into each other at events. She was still overtly flirty with Harry without much shame. 
Harry also didn’t have an desire to see her or host her as a guest on the show. She was nice but he wasn’t interested in being friends with her. They didn’t have much in common and he was head over heels for his wife.
“The media will eat it up, dude. Harry Styles and Kendall Jenner reunited on a show after four years?” Jeff smiles, the others nodding in amicable agreement.
This is one of this times where Harry needs to say “no,” that it’s disrespectful to his significant other to use an old flame for promo for his album.
He already knows ‘hendall’ will be trending within minutes and he can’t imagine how that would make his parter feel.
“I just...this doesn’t seem like a good idea?” Harry begins hesitantly, making it sound more like a question than a statement. 
“Why not?” Eric, one of the writers asks.
“Y’know, I’m married. I don’t think m’missus would appreciate if I did somethin’ like that just for promotion,” he states, scratching at his jaw uncomfortably.
“Look Styles, we’re not asking you to fuck the girl. It just a interview, c’mon,” The executive producer gruffs - wanting those guaranteed views.
Harry swallows - looking at his manager and then at everyone else at the table looking at him for an affirmative answer.
“Uh-sure,” Harry fumbles, feeling anxiety rise into his throat. Fuck, he’s such a god damn pushover.
He’s trying to find his voice to go back on his agreement but the meeting wrapping up and people are leaving with final handshakes.
**
Harry doesn’t know how to tell Y/N what is going on. He’d been keeping in stored in the back of his mind, not ready to have a blowout.
He never found the perfect time to bring it up and now it was too late. It was the morning of the show and he was due to be at the rehearsals this afternoon.
Harry had finally decided he was going to tell her this morning over coffee but forgot that she had a girl’s day planned with a few friends.
She was already out to breakfast with them when he woke up. His phone had one text from you.
Hi baby. I’m out with the girls. See you at the show tonight. I’ll meet you there around six! Love you!
He was fucked royally and he had no one to blame but himself. Maybe it’d be okay, maybe she’d roll her eyes and tell him he’s an idiot.
Realistically he knew that was just a sweet dream at this point.
Harry was fidgety and kept mucking up his lines during rehearsal as it got closer to the showtime and his missus arriving.
Kendall had arrived for hair and makeup without seeing her ex-boyfriend yet. He dreaded seeing the model.
Kendall and Y/N had met a few times at different events. It was always cordial. Kendall was always casual - their relationship was never more than a couple fun dates and sex.
They were kind to each other when they met but he couldn’t deny how much harder his partner kissed him on the mouth afterwards.
Before he know it, his wife is hugging him from behind as he talks to a producer about which cameras to look at.
Y/N noticed the way he tensed up at first and thought about how unusual that was for him. Normally, he’d lean back into her with his full weight causing them both to stumble and laugh.
He slowly, cautiously turns around and his face  relaxes a little bit but not completely. “Hi baby,” he hums, leaning in for a kiss.
“You look so handsome,” she replies, admiring his brown pinstriped suit and her pearl necklace that he’d snagged awhile back. She thought it looked better on him anyways.
“You look even better, s’fuckin’ pretty, love,” he gushes, coming back in for another kiss - a little too sensual for the setting.
She was donned in a cropped white shirt, showing of the smooth expanse of her tummy. An oversized blazer of Harry’s, ripped jeans, and heels. 
Harry thought fleetingly he couldn’t wait to fuck her after the show. Then remembered that mostly wouldn’t happen.
Reggie, the musical lead, slides up to you two. He smiles wide at you, saying, “Can’t believe you agreed to the guest this evening.”
Her eyebrows furrow in confusion, Harry’s raise nearly to his forehead, but when she opens her mouth to ask him to explain they’re interrupted.
“Harry!” The leggy model trots over to the little group. Dressed in an interesting one-piece suit that has sewn in heels. She looked beautiful as ever, of course she was a model.
Both of them turn towards the oblivious girl, “Kendall,” Harry replies with a twinge of anxiety - eyes repeatedly looking at his significant other’s profile as multiple emotions flash.
“Hiya, you’re Y/N right?” Kendall smiles kindly, offering her manicured hand.
She accepts, “Yeah, uh-good to see you again.”
Harry knew she had connected the dots quickly in her head. The hurt, confusion, had hit her eyes before narrowing into full-blown rage at her partner.
“I promise I’ll go easy on him,” Kendall jokes before pinching at Harry’s cheek teasingly. The model was a natural flirt with everyone she got along with.
“Oh, sure,” she replies lamely, attempting to not let her feelings burst out in that moment with her husband . She knew it wasn’t Kendall’s fault.
“I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. I’m probably gonna puke when we do ‘spill or fill’. See you guys soon,” the model waves before trailing off with her assistant.
“Did you kn- of course you knew she was your guest,” Y/N seethes, turning to fully face the guilt-stricken-singer.
He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, “I did.”
“How long have you known for?” She demands to know, keeping her voice at an angry whisper to not draw attention.
Harry wasn’t going to lie to his love, “About two weeks.”
Y/N replies with a laugh, “let me guess, you let Jeffrey talk you into this bullshit, again.”
His silence is all she needs to know it’s true.
“For Christ’s sake, of course,” She huffs bitterly, “what’s even worse is you didn’t fucking tell me. What the fuck?”
Harry bites his lip, not able to rasp out anything but a pathetic, “m’sorry, love.”
He wasn’t usually good at taking responsibility during a fight. He was stubborn at best but he couldn’t deny his way out of this.
“You will be, you-“
They were cut off by the staff, the audience was trailing in and Harry needed to get mic’d up now.
“This conversation isn’t over,” she points her finger at his chest before storming off to the side of the stage where she’d watch from.
Fucking shit.
**
Harry was a performer. It’s easy for him to push things to the back of his mind so he can entertain a enamored audience.
But tonight, he was struggling. Eyes flicking over to the teleprompter more than usual, his demeanor not as vivid and carefree.
Not when his wife was glaring daggers at him from stage right. Her hand constantly at her mouth, biting at her nails - a nervous tick of hers.
“Next up, the one, the only, the beautiful model and one of my good friends, Kendall Jenner!” Harry introduces when she walks out and waves at the crowd.
They hug and when they pull apart they step over to where they were playing the game. Either answer the question or eat a nasty food picked out by the other.
They weren’t allowed to see each other’s questions before the game started- both going on blind which put Harry more on edge.
“Okay, Kendall. Rank the members of One Direction on most to least attractive or you will be eating...” Harry spins the table, “Cow tongue.”
She flinched at the disgusting plate, smirking up at Harry before considering her course of action, “I think I can answer this one.”
He wasn’t looking forward to her answer. Neither was Y/N by the way she nearly shaking her foot off her leg.
“Okay, I got this. You - the most attractive, then uh- Zayn....Louis...Niall...Liam,” she laughs, “but all of you are hot!”
Harry fake laughs and acts like he’s impressed by her answer as the crowd roars and cheers. 
When Kendall picks up her notecard - she laughs in surprise at the question before looking at him with bright eyes.
“Okay, um, bull penis!” She giggles before starting the question, “I’m dying to know this answer. So...your first album HS1 was released four years ago, correct?”
He nods, apprehensive.
“Which songs were about me? Especially was only angel?” She laughs at Harry’s pale expression before without another thought he shovels the rancid food into his mouth.
Harry looks off to the side to see that his missus is no longer sitting there. Just Jeff - who gives him a thumbs up.
**
The first thing he did when the show ended and the lights dimmed was bolt off to Jeff - ignoring Kendall who was about to say something to him.
“Where’d Y/N go?”
He thought she might have went out to get a breathe of fresh air but for the next hour and a half he hasn’t seen her once.
“She said she wasn’t feeling very good. She told me to tell you she’d meet you at home,” Jeff shrugs unbothered.
“Damnit!” Harry curses loudly, ripping out of the microphone and the little pack in his back waistband.
“Harry,” Jeff scolds at his unprofessionalism that was abnormal for him.
“No! Don’t fucking ever ask me to do shit like this again. You fucking knew what questions were on those notecards and you said it wasn’t anything about our previous relationship.”
“Harry-“
“Don’t fucking talk to me. You’re a real shit manager sometimes, you know that? Do not contact me tonight or tomorrow for that matter, you douchebag,” Harry barks before storming off towards the dressing rooms.
All the employees were standing around in shock, staring at the popstar as he ignored everyone around him.
Harry was famously known for being a kind, amicable guy. So it took everyone by surprise to hear him speak like that. Even Jeff was shaken up a little.
The house was pitch-black as Harry pulled up. The house’s first floor was lined with large, bay windows and not a single light was on.
He could find one room illuminated which was your bedroom. A dim side lamp must have been flicked on. He imagined her purposely turning off all the lights on the trek up the staircase.
Harry didn’t want to admit how much he was trembling with awful nerves and anticipation as he slowly turns the knob of the shared bedroom.
Y/N wasn’t laying in bed as he expected but found the bathroom door shut tightly. He noticed a little yellow bag with tissue paper off to the side by a dresser.
He knocks on the oak door, not daring to enter without permission.
“What do you want?” Y/N answers, tone flat and emotionless. 
“Can I come in, baby? Please...” He wasn’t ashamed to beg for forgiveness at this point. Hearing the emptiness in her tone scared him shitless.
“I really could care less,” She replies coldly from her spot in the scalding water decorated with bubbles.
Harry had never felt more unsure in his life as he enters the bathroom.  Y/N had gotten proper pissed at him or vice versa before - right before a concert, an award ceremony but she’d never left without him.
Her head was laying against the foam headrest and her body was covered by the soap water. She looked tired and her eyes were puffy from crying.
Harry kneels next to the tub, “look at me, please pet.”
 Y/N takes a moment before turning her head and opening her eyes. They were distant, disappointed in the man in front of her.
“I should have told you about Kendall. I should have put up more of a fight to get someone else on instead,” Harry admits, his hands desperately wanting to reach out for her.
She shakes her head with a heart-wrenching sniffle, “it’s not just tonight, Harry. We’ve had this conversation continuously for three and a half fucking years. You try to please everyone, despite them giving no fucks about you.”
“Are you that much of a pushover? You let your ex-girlfriend flirt with you in front of millions. Do you know how embarrassing and unfair that it to me?” She wipes at her eyes to stop the tears spilling over.
Harry hadn’t thought of it like that - to be honest. But he agrees, it wasn’t fair and downright cruel to do that to her.
What? All because he couldn’t say ‘no’ because he didn’t want people to be mad at him? It was pathetic and ridiculous.
“I-I won’t let it happen again, lovie. I mean it, I truly do,” Harry whimpers reaching over to cup her cheek and wants to cry when she pushes him away.
“You’re a broken record. You’ve said that a million times before but don’t change,”  Y/N points out, eyes boring furiously into his wife’s.
“I’m goi-“
She cuts him off with a sharp edge in her tone, “Just leave me alone, get out.”
The man’s face crumbles and for a second, she wants to just end the fight and makeup but then nothing would change.
“Baby-“
“Get out!” She finally bellows, tears streaming down her face steadily.
He obliges, head hung in defeat as he closes the door behind him. He stands there’s blankly for a second before going to the walk-in closet.
He’s pulling out a fresh pair of cotton underwear and a large sleepshirt for his partner, laying them neatly on the bed.
Harry doesn’t know what to do with himself while he waits so he pulls out his phone to mindlessly scroll.
He throws it against the wall when he sees #hendallreunited is trending number one on Twitter at the moment.
The singer strips down to his briefs and sits with his back against the tufted headboard, staring blankly at the wall.
His eyes catch a neon pink pair of his swimshorts tossed carelessly on the decorative vase in the corner of the room from the night before .
“Fuck, baby - no need to rush,” Harry groans into Y/N ‘s mouth as she pushes him until he’s sat on the edge of their California king.
She reaches impatiently for the tie on his neon pink swimshorts and yanks them off his slim, peach-fuzz thighs before throwing them onto the vase without a care that it was worth over twenty-thousand pounds.
After edging her in the hot tub with his fingers and mouth, she wasn’t waiting any longer before clambering onto his lap, pulling her swim bottoms to the side, and sinking onto him.
He felt guilty when his cock twitched at the thought of it. But when reality set back in, the arousal with the memory evaporated.
It isn’t much longer until the door is pulled open and  Y/N’s padding into the room with a towel secured around her.
She looks at the clothes Harry set out for her and pointedly walks past them to pick out her own nightwear. 
That really shouldn’t make his eyes tear up as he watches her slide on a similar pair of panties and an oversized shirt. Spotting a purpling bruise on her upper in thigh from his mouth.
 Y/N silently walks past the bed and to the bedroom door, looking back before bleakly stating, “I’m going to sleep in the guest room.”
He frowns, wrinkles appearing on his forehead, “You can sleep in here, love. I’ll take the guest room.”
Harry doesn’t get a reply as she just shakes her head and closes the door loudly behind her. 
It’s just - he’s never seen her this upset. She was usually fantastic at communicating her feelings and hashing things out.
She wasn’t one for the silent treatment or ignoring the topic. It had his chest rising faster than usual with anxiety. The serious of it overwhelming him.
He states at the wall for a very long time without wiping the fat tears brimming over his trembling lips.
*
He couldn’t sleep - it was half past three and he hadn’t even laid down or clicked off the lamp.
Harry accepted sleep wasn’t coming so he begins to tidy the already clean room. He picks up the shorts and tossing them in the hamper.
He refolds some joggers he’d carelessly shoved in a drawer and when he went to move the little yellow bag - curiosity got the best of him.
There was no card and he wasn’t sure who it was for or if it had been a gift already give to Y/N that she had returned home with.
Harry really shouldn’t - but he does. Gently tugging out the paper and reaching in to feel fabric.
Pulling it out, it takes him a minute to identify what it is - two baby onesie. Who was having a baby?
He lays them in front of him, eyes widening in surprise as he reads what is printed across the black cotton.
The first one was the colors and font of his upcoming tour merch with the photo he used on his tour announcement with the heeled boot and white pants.
Love on Tour - Due Date: September 2025
With Special Guest Appearance from Baby Styles
The second one was simple and read across the chest:
I’m having your baby (and it is your business) with embroidered kiwis all of over it.
He frantically reached back into the bag to pull out a bundle of pregnancy tests tied with a silk bow.
They weren’t necessarily trying for a baby but they’re weren’t not trying either. Harry wanted a baby as soon as his missus was willing to give him one.
“No, no, don’t one,” she’d whined into his mouth when he’d reached over to grab a condom off the nightstand.
“Oh sweet thing, you want me bare? Fill you up?” He croons happily, coming back to grip at his thick base and tease at her entrance.
“Ye-yeah, H. Please,” (Y/N) whimpers, bucking her hips in the hope he’d slip inside her.
Harry hums, “Might give you a baby though, y’want me to knock you up?”
“Want it, wan-“
He cuts her off with a hard, blissful kiss as he thrusts all the way inside before pulling out to do it again. 
“Gonna give it to you, whatever you want, lovie,” he promises.
The two had never used protection afterwards. It had start about seven months ago and from his knowledge she’d still been getting her periods regularly.
Occasionally, he would palm at her flat tummy and pout, “Haven’t put a baby in you yet, ‘ave I?”
He was so ecstatic but disappointed in himself for ruining everything and pleasing everyone other than who he should be.
Harry needed to fix this. He didn’t want Y/N to lose the excitement of having their baby over a dumb choice of his.
The man’s out of the room and not knocking before entering their guest room. His now pregnant love is laying on-top of the covers.
One hand subconsciously on her belly - which she removes and places next to her when her wife walks in.
The television was on but the volume was low and Y/N wasn’t watching it in the first place anyways.
Harry sits on the edge of the bed, “I opened the yellow bag.”
She looks at him with wide eyes, a little taken aback. she was going to surprise him tonight and forgot to store it away for another time after the fight.
Harry has happy tears dribbling down his cheeks, “you’re having my baby?”
Y/N nods, running a slight hand through his curls. She still had a nasty knot of anger and uncertainty in the pit of her stomach.
It pains her, wanting to share this moment of excitement with Harry but she just couldn’t. The uncertainty of whether Harry would put everybody’s needs before his own baby.
“Come back to bed, want t’talk and celebrate. M’so bloody excited,” Harry murmurs, a large smile decorating his face as he smooths a palm over the expanse of her tummy.
His wife shakes her head and places a hand over his, feeling the cold metal of all of them. “I want to be left alone.”
The twinkle in Harry’s eye diminishes to devastation as he realizes that he’s fucked up so badly that she doesn’t even want to celebrate.
“Pet, can...we just forget about it tonight and be happy ‘bout the baby?” Harry asks selfishly, knowing it was unlikely she’d agree.
She didn’t, a firm expression on her face, “no, I have a lot to think about.”
“Like wha’?” He asks anxiously, unknowing of quite the reason she was so furious.
“Like how you say yes to everything and everyone. We talk and talk about how you need to say ‘no’ and do what’s best for you - for us. You agree to and never follow through”
She takes a shaky breath and continues, “it’s affected our relationship before when you’ve had to cancel our vacation away from all this for a charity concert you’d agree to perform at last minute, dinner reservations because you told your friend we’d be at their art showing they wanted you at.”
Harry knew she was right. He did those things. He wanted everyone to be happy with him - to a fault.
“Tonight was just icing on the cake, you allowed your manager to talk you into hosting your ex on that show. Out of all the people in the world - her. With flirty questions and jabs from her. You let that happen. You care about making everyone happy but in return you don’t care how it affects me. That’s pretty shitty.”
“I’m...I’m really fucking scared you’ll do that even when we have the baby. I need you to put them first and right now...I’m not sure if you’re going to. You can’t put the person you want to spend the rest of your life with first now, how do I know you’ll do it with the baby?”
Harry chokes out a sob as he presses his forehead against the bed, his broad shoulders shaking. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried this hard - years ago maybe. He felt like his wife didn’t have any faith in him and he was to blame.
He looks up at her with swollen eyes - at a loss for what to do or say. He loved her so much and was over the moon that they were going to have a baby.
“How do I fix this, darling? You’re right, I really fucked up. M’sorry,” Harry cries, grabbing at her hands and she allows it.
“Just saying you’re sorry won’t fix it,” Y/N replies flatly, letting Harry squeeze and kiss at the backs of her hands.
“Then what do I bloody do to fix this?” Harry raises his voice in frustration, staring in bewilderment at his wife. 
Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “Do not raise your voice at me, Harry. Actions speak louder than words.”
Harry swallows harshly, pressing one finally kiss to her hand. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She repeats.
“I love you, I’ll fix this,” he promises with conviction. He knew what he needed to do and do it tomorrow. So he and his wife could enjoy her new pregnancy.
“I need space tonight, I just...please”Y/N says quietly, rubbing at his shoulder.
It wasn’t the first time they’ve slept in separate rooms because they weren’t getting along but they normally found their way back to each other before sunrise.
Harry nods, lip still tremble with the residual anxiety of the conversation. She allows him to press a soft kiss to her mouth before leaving the room.
—-
Cafe Habana was busy - but no one was paying much attention to Harry and Jeff. It was the morning after and Harry had demanded a meeting over breakfast with his manager.
“Y/N pregnant,” Harry states bluntly after their drinks arrive.
“Oh? Congratulations, dude. That’s exciting!” Jeff leans over to pat him on the shoulder, a big smile.
“The baby is due in September. My next tour starts in next July. The baby will be about nine months. I want to be at home with them for the first year.”
Jeff doesn’t look pleased, “what are you getting at Harry?”
“Reschedule the July and August tour dates. Tack them on to the end of the tour,” Harry lays out flat. 
He hadn’t talk to his wife about this but he knew this was how he could prove that he could say ‘no’ and not be a pushover.
“No Harry. Look I get you’re excited about the baby - but that will be such a fucking hassle,” Jeff frowns, sipping his mimosa.
“I’m not asking, Jeff. I’m telling you that’s what needs to happen,” Harry replies firmly, tone strong and unwavering.
Jeff is definitely taken aback by his client’s conviction. 
“While we’re on the topic, do not ever put me in a situation like you did yesterday. It affected my wife and I. And I will choose her over this career any day.”
The manager nods in surprise, “Harry, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not asking for an apology but if you ever pull something like then I’ll be looking for a new management team. Are we clear?” 
Jeff once again nods, unsure of where this is coming from but at the thought of losing his biggest client would be disastrous so he’d do whatever to accommodate him.
“Consider it done,” he tells Harry before clearing his throat in a slight panic.
Y/N woke up to an empty house. She was restless, she asked Harry to prove to her that he could be what she needed. However, it was a bit unfair because she didn’t know how he could do it.
It’s just…she had a baby to think about. They both needed to be put first and if it took a gnarly fight for Harry to realize it...so be it.
“Baby? Love, where are you?” She hears Harry echo through the whole house. She was sat in the kitchen, on a stool by the island, idly sorting through mail.
“In here!”
Harry jogs in, panting like he sprinted from the garage up to the kitchen. He comes to stand in front of the love of his life.
“I might have not completely fixed everything but...I tried,” Harry tells her, cradling her face in his large palms. “ I just got back from lunch with Jeff. I told him about the baby.”
He takes a deep breath before continuing, “I rescheduled tour dates so I can be with you guys at home in London for the first year. Then...maybe you guys can join me after?”
“Harry…” she’s at a loss for words.
“And I told Jeff that if he ever puts me in a situation like that again, I’m firing him.”
Y/N stares at him, in awe and admiration of the man she chose to marry and keep forever. His face was so sincere and vulnerable.
Harry didn’t know whether it would be enough. If it wasn’t he’d keep trying but all he could do was hope. He waited with bated breath as she processed his words.
“Baby, you-for me?” She murmurs as she stands up and crowds into his space. He instantly wraps her up into a tight hug, missing her touch.
“Of course, pet. I’d do anything for you, I mean it. I’d quit this whole career if you wanted tha’,” he tells her truthfully - lips brushing her forehead.
“I love you, so so much,” Y/N murmurs, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“We’re havin’ a baby,'' Harry sighs dreamily into her mouth, tongue sliding against hers. A large hand came to palm at her belly.
“Yeah, m‘having your baby,” She giggles as he begins to trail the kisses down her jaw and neck - pressing her into the marble countertop.
“Should we name it Kiwi?” Harry rasps as he slides the tank top strap off her shoulder so his lips can meet the cap of her warm shoulder.
“We are not going to be that celebrity couple who names their baby something weird,” Y/N groans as he grounds his hips into hers with intent.
THE END
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Text
New in Town - Chapter Five
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Pairing: Bucky x F Reader
Series Summary: Being new in town isn’t always easy. Being new in a small town is worse and the first thing you heard is to beware of a biker gang. And suddenly you befriend the gang – which isn’t really a gang but a group of friends that are more than welcoming to you. And next to new friends you might also find love.
Chapter Warnings: tattoos, vulnerable Bucky (but he is still flirty!), scars, reader is a little bitchy (sorry Sam, not your fault!), talk about the army and the aftermath, talk about a bad ending of a relationship
Chapter Wordcount: ~3.2
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
Chapter Five - The Date
The next day at work when George got his coffee fill he turned towards you. “Wanna come over this Sunday? It’s my birthday and it’s nothing much, just me and the kids celebrating here. No need for presents, everyone brings something to eat and we sit around here.”
“The kids?” you asked confused. As long as you knew his only kid was Bucky.
“Clint, Natasha, James, Steve the whole lot.” You raised an eyebrow so he continued. “Listen, I know most of these kids since they were little. Some of them had a really shitty childhood, so I put them under my wing. I’m no saint. I let them drink too early, I showed them how to drive too early, but I also thought them to never mix these two things. They might get older, but they are still these little rascals that I met all those years ago. So it's kind of a tradition and I might have a spot open. Think about it,” he squeezed your shoulder and left the office. So maybe that was why they welcomed you with open arms – because they were welcomed the same way.
When you drove over to Steve and Bucky's house, you spotted Steve sitting outside waiting for you. After a quick hug you followed him inside directly into the studio. “I’m actually so excited to finally see how it’s looking right now,” he admitted when he closed the door behind you.
“We saw each other just yesterday, you could have taken a look then,” you said with a smile as you pulled off your jacket.
“Yeah, but it would have spoiled anything. And while I love to tease Bucky, I think we should show him soon.”
“Well then take a look,” you skimmed out of your pants and Steve patted the chair so you could lay down. He set your leg up so he could take a look at everything.
“I might be biased because this is my design, but it does look really good. There are a few places I have to go over again, but all in all it turned out really good. Better than I hoped for to be honest.” The shy smile he sent you way made you chuckle.
“Well, I had faith in you. I saw the tattoos you did on the others and they are amazing. And I really love this one. I said it didn’t really matter, but every time I look at it, I love it a little bit more.”
“And that’s the best compliment,” the shy smile turned into a grin. “You ready for round two?” You nodded and Steve prepared everything.
“Today I can’t stay for dinner, I’m beat from work and I just want to lay down,” you said after the session and grabbed your stuff.
“Let’s just chat when we’re going to show Bucky, or if you want to do it by yourself,” Steve offered.
“No way, this is your work. I’m just your canvas. We show him together,” you promised and hugged him goodbye.
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The opportunity took place a few days later. As it started to pour and there was no end in sight Bucky, who had been at the mechanic shop, asked you if you could give him a lift home.
Small talk was taking place and you made him laugh and he was so into it that he slapped your thigh. You flinched and Bucky started apologizing immediately. “I forgot, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
“No, everything’s alright, don’t worry. Actually, how about I'll show you the tattoo?”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said although he had bothered you to show it a lot with the others.
“I want to,” you replied and kept your eyes on the road as the rain was still pouring so you missed the glance Bucky threw your way. It didn’t take long for you to arrive at your destination. You pulled your jacket over your head and sprinted towards the door so you wouldn’t be drenched but the rain still found its way onto your clothes.
“What kind of weather is that?” you asked once you were inside the house and water droplets gathered around you on the floor.
“I’ll get some towels and some clothes for you,” Bucky said when he pulled off his shoes and disappeared from your sight. You followed after you hung your jacket and Bucky held out a towel for you and some clothes and you disappeared into the bathroom.
At least neither Bucky nor Steve commented how you looked in the clothes that were clearly not made for you. The rain was loud when it landed on the glass patio outside and so you walked over to Steve and told him about your plan. He nodded and Bucky looked curious at you. Steve motioned towards the studio and the further you walked the quieter it got.
“Okay now you’re making me nervous,” Bucky finally admitted when he closed the door and you stepped out of the pants that they had borrowed you. Steve wanted to say something, you weren’t even finished with pulling of the fabric when Bucky asked if that was his motive.
He almost sounded a bit hurt so Steve decided to step in immediately. “You know how I refused to tattoo your scar because I didn’t have experience with it? Well, this one here,” he made a motion with his head towards you, “came up to me and offered her scar to test on. So I took the motive I had ready for you and I put other flowers in it and of course I had to mold a few things as it’s on a different body part, but what I’m trying to say is that if you want to, I’m ready to cover your scar.”
Steve finished his little speech, but Bucky just looked at you. You could see the questions in his eyes that he didn’t ask. “Can I,” he had to clear his throat, “can I take a closer look?”
You nodded and sat down on the cot, your leg dangling from it and Bucky crouched down in front of you. Just like Steve Bucky didn’t make you feel uncomfortable as his gaze was locked on the tattoo.
“You can touch,” you offered before he could ask. Bucky's light fingertips that danced over your skin caused goosebumps to rise on your skin.
“I can still feel it, but I can barely see it,” Bucky mumbled to himself. “When can you start, punk?” he suddenly said and turned around. Yours and Steve’s gaze met over Bucky's head and a smile was on both of your faces.
“I mean we could start now,” the artist suggested.
“Don’t be rude, we have a guest.”
“I don’t mind watching. Or I could finally start that book you recommend to me a while back, don’t mind me,” you offered as Bucky and you had already decided that you wouldn’t drive home when it was still raining like that on the way to the house.
“You sure, Buck?” Steve asked again and Bucky confirmed with a nod. “Okay, I’ll prepare everything and how about the two of you make something to eat? There should be everything for sandwiches.” Steve’s tone was almost dismissing you.
“Yes, Captain. Is it okay for me to put on pants first?” you mocked him which caused both men to chuckle.
When you were being decent again you and Bucky made your way to the kitchen. There was a silence between the two of you and you knew that Bucky wanted to ask something and you didn’t pressure him.
“Why did you do it?” he asked once he spread out the bread and you pulled the ingredients out of the fridge.
“Because I wanted to,” you needed to make sure that this was the first thing you said. “I know that it bothered you and imagine how many people Steve can help now.” When he was quiet you continued. “Did I offend you?” you asked quietly.
“Offend me? Doll, this is the farthest thing from offending me,” he picked the things from your hand and put them carelessly on the counter. He took your hands in his big ones and waited for you to look at him. “This is such a huge gesture that I don’t even know how to handle this. This... This is... I don’t know, but,” he suddenly pulled you against him, your hands trapped between your bodies. “Thank you. I wanted Steve to do this for ages and I’m just happy he’ll finally do it.”
He let go of you after a while and the both of you continued to make some sandwiches.
In the end you ended up sitting next to Bucky, out of Steves way with a book in your hand and your other one in Bucky's while he stroked it with his thumb. Turning the pages would have been easier with access to both of your hands but you wouldn’t complain. You had posted a picture of Bucky and Steve when Steve applied the stencil to the group chat and the excitement from all his friends were expressed – with an overload of emojis from Sam and a lot of encouraging words especially from Wanda.
“You know that the two of you will have kind of matching tattoos then?” Steve suddenly said into the quiet room which cause Bucky and you to look at each other. None of you had considered that. You were the first to break. “There could be worse things.”
“Yeah there could be,” Bucky agreed.
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“Do you come to the bar tonight?” Sam asked you when he spotted you grocery shopping.
“No, I don’t think I will. I think I’ll stick to a quiet evening,” you put the bag of chips that you had examined into the cart.
“Cool, cool. Isn’t that too much food for you alone?” he said suddenly distracted by the amount of food in your cart.
“You’re not going to tell me how much I am allowed to eat, right?” you snapped at him and he retreated a step and held his hands up in defeat. “I thought so. Have a nice evening, Sam,” you said and walked quickly towards the register.
When you were almost in your apartment Wanda stepped out of hers and greeted you. You greeted her too, but the smile on your face wasn’t genuine. You looked at the hallway quickly.
“Are you okay?” Wanda asked concerned.
“Yeah, yeah of course.”
“Okay, I wanted to get something to eat. Do you want come with me before I have to go to work?” she asked and you tried to come up with an excuse.
“No, um, I can’t... I have,” you stopped as you couldn’t come up with anything. Wanda raised a brow.
“You could just say no, I’m not mad,” she said softly.
“That’s not it, but,” you stopped as you heard footsteps approaching. Bucky came towards you and you looked nervously at the woman in front of you who looked at the both of you and understanding dawned on her.
“I’m not going to tell anyone. You kept my secret, I keep yours.” She turned towards the approaching man. “Have fun,” she smiled and winked at you and left the hallway.
“So much for meeting without our friends knowing,” Bucky sighed and took the bag from your hands.
“She won’t tell. What did you tell Steve where you’re going.”
“We’re not married, I didn’t have to tell him where I’m going,” Bucky joked, which caused you to tell him they behaved like a married couple sometimes.
Spending time with Bucky was easy. You both put away the groceries and discussed shortly who would do what before you went to work preparing dinner.
“Do you think it's weird, that we wanted to meet each other without our friends knowing?” You asked and avoided the word date deliberately.
“With our friends? No, definitely not. If I just mentioned the word date Steve would throw confetti and tell me it would be time and our group chat would explode with questions. Have you kissed yet? Did Barnes make a move? Are you not responding because you’re going at it? So no, I think it’s a good thing that only we know. And if we decided that we just want to be friends and don’t want to kiss each other goodbye no one would be disappointed. Well, maybe me, but,” he shrugged and your mouth opened.
“Smooth. Now get some plates and set the table,” you shoved him towards the table.
“Would you be disappointed?” he didn’t let go while he opened the cupboard.
“Stay and find out.” Dinner was nice and playful until Bucky suddenly fell quiet. “What’s on your mind?” you asked softly after a while.
“I like you. A lot to be honest. But it's been a while since I’ve been in a relationship and there’s a reason for it.” He took a sip from his drink and you waited patiently for him to continue. “I was in a relationship when I joined the army. We loved each other and we decided to stay together, but,” he stopped and took a breath. “When I came back after the accident it wasn’t only the arm I lost. There are nightmares, sudden situations that trigger something. It’s better now, but it was hard back then. I lost an arm, I had to learn to do everything with one arm until the offer came for this one.” He raised his metal arm and let his fingers wiggle. “I thought we were going to manage it, I was so glad to be home with my family back with my girl, but she couldn’t take it after a while. And that’s okay from one point of view, but she made me feel like a burden and it really broke my heart. Took me a while to get back on my feet. I’m really glad that I have such good friends. Steve took me in without even blinking an eye. The others all offered to let me move in with them.”
You reached over the table and took his hand. “I’m so sorry that you felt that way. I can’t say anything to what had happened, I wasn’t there. And I can’t promise to not break your heart because I think that this is nothing someone does intentional. But I like you, Bucky. I really do! You make me laugh, you make me feel happy and safe and cared for and I can’t help myself but to seek you out once you’re near me. I love that you message me through the day with things to make me smile and if you’re ready and you want to, I really want to give this,” you made a motion with your finger between you, “a shot. I just want you to be honest with me. If you have a bad day, just tell me, tell me if you need time to yourself. Or if you want me to come over and pester you, I’ll do it immediately. I really like you, Bucky,” you finished and your thumb continued to stroke his hand. You pulled at his hand than. “Come up, I want a hug now.”
Without letting go of your hands you walked around the table and put your free arm around his waist. “Bucky?” you mumbled in his chest and he hummed something as a confirmation that he had heard you. “Do you think we can try the kiss now? You know, so we don’t have to wait for the goodbye.”
“Yeah, I think we can do that.” You pulled a bit away from each other and looked at each other until his eyes closed and yours followed which caused you to miss the mouth and he kissed the corner of yours. The both of you laughed and Bucky put his hand on your neck to guide your face towards his and the smile on your face fell when your lips met his.
Your eyes fluttered open, when he pulled away slowly. “Yeah, I think we can work with that.”
“I think so too, doll,” Bucky's voice sounded deeper now and he pulled you against him again.
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Steve knows. Your phone lit up shortly before you entered the bar.
Wanda knows too. Maybe we should just tell them? There had been three dates so far, a lot of kisses and a few make out sessions. Nothing further than that but you were content and actually excited to see Bucky in a minute.
Okay. You read his response before you entered the bar. You waved at Wanda before you made your way over to your friends. Bucky rose once he spotted you and he looked at your face to see if you were still on board with telling the others.
Kissing Bucky went better than the first time. Your lips actually met, but you could do without your friends in the background.
“Hey doll,” Bucky breathed once he stepped back.
“Hey,” you breathed back and sent him a smile that made him dizzy.
“Can I get a greeting like that or are they exclusive for Barnes?” you heard Sam’s voice and Bucky stepped aside so you could see him.
“Exclusive for Bucky, but I can offer you a hug,” you offered.
“I’m okay with that,” Sam stood up and pushed Bucky away playfully before he wrapped his arms around you. “I’ll even offer you my seat so you can sit next to him.” He grabbed his glass and put it next to Steve before he took a place there.
Bucky placed his arm on the rest behind you. You had expected a lot of questions about the two of you, but to your surprise Nat asked what everyone would bring to a get together at Sam's place and plans were made. You put a hand on Bucky's thigh which caused him to look and smile at you before you contributed your ideas.
The teasing you both had anticipated never came. Maybe it was because it was only a matter of time until the two of you found your way together. Maybe the teasing would come later when it wasn’t so fresh or maybe they were just happy that Bucky was opening up to someone. And opening up he did. It was a slow but steady process.
“So, I wanted to ask if I can bring someone too to,” Wanda said once it was a bit quieter. “Actually, I’ve been dating someone for a while.” When Wanda had told you the guys were a bit protective, she didn’t exaggerate. Protests were heard and you decided to step in.
“Guys, stop it. He is really nice and they’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”
“You knew?” Bucky looked more than betrayed.
“Of course, I knew. But she didn’t tell anyone about us, so I kept her secret,” you shrugged your shoulders.
“Doesn’t count,” Sam piped in. “Everyone knew about the two of you.”
You let out a hmpf and Bucky kissed the side of your head.
“I’m only asking you to be nice and don’t roast him that much so he’ll never see me again. Just don’t push it too far,” Wanda pleaded and Clint was the first one to agreed.
Epilogue
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dollslayer · 3 years
Text
Fight or Flight
Steve Rogers x Reader
Summary: Steve comes clean, in the aftermath and shock you turn to the one person who you know you can trust.
W/C: 2,369
Warnings: Implied cheating, angst, swearing
A/N: Hello! I wrote this for @sweetlyscared 's 1k celebration (congrats, it's well deserved!), prompt is in bold. I'm still pretty new to writing and this is my first true Angst fic so any and all reblogs/comments are super appreciated! Please check out my other stuff if you liked this fic!! Cheers!
PART TWO I Masterlist
____
The feeling of everything crashing around you was slow. Like your world was moving in slow motion as you processed the words. Everything else he was saying became distorted, going to waste as he tried desperately to explain himself to you. All you could hear clearly was your own breathing while you tried to will yourself to do something, anything.
Fight or flight is a funny thing, you were always so feisty and eager to fight back, A Bulldog, Steve had affectionately called you. But when he told you he was in love with someone else, that he has been in love with someone else for months, your body couldn’t find anything in it but to walk away.
Your breathing picked up and your eyes searched the ground, refusing to meet his. You felt your legs raise you up to stand and start walking away, unsure of your destination. When you pivoted to leave the room your eyes met his briefly, staring emotionlessly as his desperately searched for anything at all in yours.
“Where are you going? Doll, please, can we talk about this? I’m, I’m so sorry I-”
Whatever else he was saying wasn’t heard over the noise of opening the door and shutting it behind you. You didn’t know where you were going or what you were feeling other than the obvious. You were in a state of shock, it’s one thing to hear awful news and another to understand that it’s true but you were fastly approaching that truth head-on.
You paused for a moment in the hall and heard no movement come after you. You almost let yourself be surprised but he’d admitted he gave up on you a long time ago, so it only makes sense he wouldn’t fight your exit. You kept walking and tried to hold the floodgates of your heart closed for a bit longer.
Flashes of what was said come back to you slowly as reality sets in. “I can’t put this off any longer. I want you to know that I will always love you, but there’s someone else.”
Your head hurt like it would as if you were already crying, the blood pumping in your ears and pressure building in your temples that would no doubt evoke a long-standing headache. Your face felt hot as you stepped into the elevator, maybe you’d go for a walk in an attempt to fend off your tears. Or maybe you’d walk to a safer place to have an emotional breakdown. Whichever is easier.
Brisk gusts of air greet you as you exit the building, making you realize you left your jacket on the arm of the couch. You took a second to evaluate yourself and noticed you’d also walked out in your house slippers and a thin pair of leggings. Trying to evade the cold you tucked yourself in the doorway of a bodega down the street and dialed Bucky.
Two rings and he picked up.
“Hello?”
“Did you know?”
The silence on the line only reminds you of the blood pumping in your ears. The silence tells you everything you needed to know.
“Liste-”
You hang up.
You’re breathing even harder now. Who else knew? For how long? How long was I the joke? You need to find somewhere else to be soon or all these strangers are going to get an eyeful of a grown woman sobbing. You dial the last number you’d expect to at a time like this.
“What’s happening, shortstack?”
You can hear Tony’s grin through the phone and his easy greeting gives you momentary comfort.
“Can I come over? Something happened.”
“I’ll let Jarvis know to let you in” Tony’s tone is understanding, not needing you to explain further, just letting you know you can come to him.
____
Tony’s only seven blocks from yours and Steve’s shared apartment, a fact you’re grateful for when you feel your feet aching every time they hit the pavement. The conversation replays in your head, you try to word what happened in your head and your anger starts overtaking the heartbreak. It’s almost a welcome reprieve from the settling heartbreak but you’re not sure if you’d rather be numb to it completely.
When the elevator doors open Tony’s waiting for you with two tumblers of scotch in hand. You shake your head and move past him to the couch. He joins you on the opposite armchair and sets both his elbows down on his spread knees, resting his face in his hands.
“Would you like to talk about it or not talk about it?” He asks with a sigh.
You don’t make eye contact with him so you don’t cry, choosing to focus on the Iron Man coffee table book you’d gotten as a gag gift for Tony all those Christmases ago. It almost distracts you enough to laugh, the fact that he just has it out. But you need to tell someone what happened and get it all out before you can let yourself feel it all.
“Steveisinlovewithsomeoneelse,” You rushed it all out in one breath afraid if you didn’t get it out fast enough that you’d break. “He has been for months. He said he doesn’t know when it all changed but when he was with her things just clicked,” you paused to collect yourself, “But don’t worry, I’ll always hold a special place in his heart and he hopes this won’t affect the future of the team or our friendship.”
“Oh, and he’s really sorry.” you added.
You laughed bitterly and shook your head in disbelief. His delivery had been so cold but so sincere, very to the point but pained in its delivery. “I just, whatever we had, it’s just gone. Things are just different now, with her, this kills me though, please believe me. You’re still really special to me.” Bullshit. Special enough to act as a placeholder until someone better comes, special enough to cast aside.
You’re broken momentarily from your spiral into anger by the sound of a glass hitting a coaster a little too hard. Looking up, you find Tony quietly seething. He and Steve aren’t close by any means so you figured that he wouldn’t have known, it’s why you called him over anyone else.
He moves slowly to your side on the couch and pulls you into his side. You can smell his aftershave and what you think might be burned grease from one of the many things he’s been tinkering with in the lab, it smells like him, like comfort.
“That fucking asshole. Unbelievable, I don’t even…” He leaves the thought unfinished.
His hands move up and down your arms in a soothing motion and you finally let yourself have it. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel the tears wet his shirt when you bury your face in. You sniffle up tears and snot when your face heats up.
There’s no way to know how long Tony lets you sob into him, no doubt ruining his vintage Depeche Mode shirt. Somewhere in the back of your mind you make a mental note to buy him a new one later. But for now you’ll just allow yourself to cry and you can deal with the world in the morning.
____
Tony lets you fall asleep on his chest, feeling somewhere between furious and heartbroken by proxy. He thinks about letting you sleep and giving Steve a piece of his mind but figures that’s not what you need right now. Your phone sits on the table and he touches the screen to check the time. No notifications on your homescreen except for a missed call from Bucky and an old photo of Steve making a funny face as your background.
Had Steve not even tried to call you? Had he not even tried to go after you? Why was Bucky of all people the only one to be trying to get a hold of you? Prick.
Selfishly Tony is glad that he has a good reason to be rude to Steve now, he has to admit. You two had always been close but when you and Steve started dating he saw less and less of you. He couldn’t fault you for it though, you were so in love with Steve and you knew that the relationship between the two of them was strained so you kept your distance a bit.
He thought of all the sacrifices you’d made for Steve. You gave up your childhood home in the Bronx that your parents had willed to you to move in with him because he wanted you to be closer to the tower. You gave up a promotion and transfer to DC when you were still just an agent, granted you were an avenger now but it doesn’t matter, he’d made a very big deal out of you turning it down. You gave up the friendship the two of you had.
It was incredible, really. How much you had done for him only for him to turn around and love someone else behind your back. Brave enough to fight aliens and terrorists but too cowardly to break up with you and leave you with some dignity. Did anyone else know about this?
Tony had to stop himself from getting too angry, afraid he’d wake you up. So instead he went back to plotting up schematics for the half-finished suit mod he’d been in the middle of when you called.
____
It’s been a week and you still haven’t properly talked to Steve. After two days on Tony’s couch you need to look at things from a logical stance. Where am I going to stay? It’s not like you had your parent’s place anymore and you didn’t want to sign a new lease on an apartment. You could always move into the tower but that meant a higher chance of running into Steve.
You were thinking about all of this out loud to Tony when he offered you the guest bedroom in his penthouse. You were shocked, he’s always been a generous man but after you drifted apart from him you were surprised he even let you stay these past few days. Maybe now was a good time to rebuild your friendship with him and have some space from work.
What’s work going to be like? You agree and go on a temporary leave from the team, just a month to collect yourself. If you really wanted to you could go back but the thought of seeing everyone that knew about Steve’s affair was humiliating and enraging in one go.
It turns out Sam had been playing therapist to Steve in all of this, Nat figured it out through some sleuthing, and Wanda had inadvertently heard his thoughts about her. And none of them thought to tell you? To save you from the anguish but to let it fester? Steve wasn’t the only one that betrayed you. They all had.
What will I say to him? Should I say anything to him? Turns out the answer was ‘nothing’. You texted him to let him know you were moving out and you’d be by to get your things as a courtesy. You walked into an empty apartment and you were almost relieved.
He’d chosen to not be here but he’d left you a letter on the kitchen counter next to a framed photo of the two of you on vacation last year. You scoff but don’t touch the letter. Every ounce of restraint you have is being used as you leave it untouched. But you don’t need to know what excuses or apologies he has on deck, nothing he could say would exonerate him of his wrong-doings. You had no intentions of speaking to him but secretly you hoped he suffered as he stewed in his guilt and inner-turmoil. He deserves to.
When you pack you leave every gift he ever gave you, taking only what you’d brought with you in the first place. You take one look at the unmade bed and almost go to make it out of habit but then you think of the two of them there together. All the long missions you went on without him, all the times you stayed late at work or went out with your friends. How many times had he been here with her while you were there?
You end up only leaving with two suitcases and a backpack full of things. Tony waits for you in the lobby, understanding you wanted your space when you went to get your things in case Steve was there.
The elevator doors open to him taking a selfie with a couple of fans and shaking hands. He’s all too happy to be recognized but when he sees you his eyes soften. Not out of pity, but fondness, like he’s proud of you for getting out.
He sends you a questioning look with a silent question. Are you okay?
You smile at him and for the first time in days it’s a genuine, non-placating, happy-to-see-you smile. It’s okay, I’ll be okay.
He takes one of your suitcases from you and helps you load them into the back of the car before opening the door for you. The drive back to Tony’s is silent but comfortable. The trust you have in each other is strong and unspoken. Something you’ve always been grateful for between the two of you.
He doesn’t ask you about Steve or what happened, always letting you come to him first, which you appreciate. And when you talk he just listens. No bullshit unsolicited advice about moving on or how everything happens for a reason or getting back out there, just listens.
You know the road ahead is long and it will be difficult, but you have someone in your corner and the knowledge that what happened isn’t your fault and that you’re a badass and fuck Steve Rogers and fuck anyone else that did you wrong in all of this. Maybe you’ll forgive them someday but for now you’re gonna focus on you and work on building yourself back up. You’re ready for the ups and downs, you’re ready to fight.
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devilyn · 3 years
Text
belated regrets | kuroo tetsurou
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— alexa, play: remember me by umi
Cuz I'm getting older Know that I've changed But I can't go back now Nothing's the same And I won't forget how You called my name When I was afraid And now I'm afraid
— synopsis: after taking advantage of your friendship, what will kuroo do to win it back?  — genre: angst, friends to lovers if you squint — word count: 3.1k
This wasn't like you. You had stopped crying over Kuroo months ago. You stopped thinking about whether or not he had eaten yet, if he had gotten home safe, if he would text you goodnight, and yet here you were. You were crying again, after claiming you moved on and healed, and after telling all your friends that you would cut him out of your life.
You wish you blocked his number. It felt mean to do it back then, but you really wish you did, because now you definitely wouldn't be able to.
"I think we should take some time apart," were the words you whispered to him over the phone one night a few months back when he was telling you about some girl he had gotten close to in his chemistry lecture.
There was a painful silence that lasted over 15 long seconds. You'd never forget. You counted, after all.
"Why?" he asked quietly. "You're my best friend. What did I do wrong?"
Your 'friendship' had always been strange, after all. Everyone told you that, and even Kenma firmly believed that the two of you would end up dating eventually. But every time, Kuroo would laugh and ruffle your hair while proclaiming he would never date you.
And every time, you'd force a smile and agree with him.
"This friendship...just isn't what it used to be," you answered. It was true. Ever since the two of you got to college, things had changed. He met different people through his classes and bustling parties, and thus different girls that he'd ask you about. You manufactured his sweet texts to them, all while wishing he'd send them to you and feel just as nervous calling you late at night. You'd help guide him through the process of asking her out, then let him come over and be sad when he was rejected. 
Every aspect of your friendship became about him, him, and him. His academics were doing well--he was a surprisingly smart man after all--but they took a toll on him mentally, as they do to all college students. The same happened to you as well, but never once did Kuroo ask about how you were doing, how you were feeling, how you were coping with the sudden changes to your life.
You kept in contact with Kenma, who you'd text once in a while to tell him about how much you hated his previous captain. And Kenma would listen to you cry over the phone about his foolish childhood friend that knew nothing about your growing feelings for him. He was the only person who kept you grounded, and understood that your feelings for Kuroo couldn't be so easily tossed aside as the rest of your friends claimed. He also was the one who encouraged you to end your friendship with Kuroo gently, knowing that he would have to deal with the aftermath of Kuroo's confusion.
"Can I fix it somehow?" Kuroo asked in a panic, and you laughed bitterly. You had asked him many times to fix things--his treatment of you as if he were your therapist being the main one. He’d apologize, yet things would always end up returning to how they were before, with you being at the bottom on his list of priorities.
"Not anymore," your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat to pretend like you weren't crying. "I think you'll be fine without me."
“Y/N--”
“Don’t call me from now on, please. Don’t come over, because I won’t answer the door,” you paused. “...you’re still going to be my friend. I just need space.”
A lie. You knew it, and Kenma did too when you rehearsed your lines to him. He told you such, but you couldn’t bear to tell Kuroo the truth.
And even as you hung up, deep down, you wished he would disobey your wishes. You wanted him to text you and come to his senses, realizing he was wrong. You wanted to relive late night calls where you would laugh and talk about absolutely nothing just because you couldn’t fall asleep. You wanted to go back to him showing up at your front door with a bucket of fried chicken to reward you for studying hard for your midterm exams. You wanted to lay next to him on a grassy field again, where he was gazing up at the stars and you were mesmerized by how beautiful your best friend was, inside and out.
But Kuroo never called. You no longer sent him good morning texts, asking how his day was, and he stopped asking for your advice. It was like the two of you were less than friends. You’d only speak when you sent him an occasional meme that reminded you of him, or a song you knew he would enjoy. He’d respond earnestly, as if your friendship of over four years wasn’t shattered during that one call months ago.
Kenma called you an idiot for not cutting him off entirely, and you would have to agree with him. You were an idiot who was head over heels for a man who would never share your feelings.
It took months for you to get over it, but the distance you put between the two of you definitely helped. So why was it, all of a sudden, after you were finally healing and moving on, that Kuroo decided to call you out of nowhere?
You stared at your buzzing phone, the image of a stupid face Kuroo made flashing on your screen. 
Should you pick up? Should you pretend like you didn’t see his call? During your time contemplating, his photo faded away and your phone stopped vibrating angrily against your coffee table. 
Your heart felt like it was going to beat through your chest when you saw the ‘one missed call’ notification flicker mockingly at you. You stared at your phone, breath hitching in your throat when suddenly, you received a new text from none other than Kuroo Tetsurou himself.
“Fuck,” you cursed, leaning your head back against the couch and groaning loudly. Should you call Kenma? You could already feel a headache incoming. 
Why? Why did Kuroo always do this to you? He’s always had terrible timing, and apparently that never changed.
You plucked your phone from the table, braving it all and finally reading what he had to say to you.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you fucking serious,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut to chase away the anger building up inside of you. “Now? Now of all times? Does he even know what he’s sorry for?”
It wasn’t uncommon for Kuroo to apologize to you just because he knew you were upset. Still, you always forgave him solely because he was your best friend. But now, you knew better.
Fully ready to toss your phone aside, your eyes caught a new text from your ex-best friend.
“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
Liar.
“I’m sorry for that one time I told you I’d help you study for your chemistry exam but ended up forgetting and missing all your texts and calls.”
You remembered that day. You had confided in him about your bad grade, and when he told you he could help you study, you were over the moon at the thought of being able to raise your nearly failing chemistry grade (and at the thought of spending more time with him). You called him multiple times when he didn’t show up, but gave up when he didn’t pick up the fifth time. You stayed up all night studying on your own, but still ended up failing that exam. You dropped the class, and ended up taking it next semester to get a much better grade without Kuroo’s help.
“I’m sorry for when you couldn’t tell me why you cried the entire day but still let me over so I could complain about Kira turning me down.”
That day, you were extremely overwhelmed. Your roommate was out somewhere, so you were left on your own to cry over the endless amount of assignments you had to deal with, on top of everything else. Kuroo had called that day, clearly in distress, and though you were in tears, you wiped them away and put on a weak smile when he showed up at your front door with a pained expression.
You wanted to be there for him. He was your best friend, after all.
“I’m sorry for that time that I left in the middle of our movie night because Ayane called me and wanted to go out to eat together.”
Your heart stung at the memory. The sight of his back getting up from your couch while completely ignoring the hurt in your eyes was still engraved into your memory, even if you spent months trying to forget it. You had called his name, but he was too busy eagerly chattering on the phone to even hear you. When he turned around, it was to bid you goodbye before abruptly leaving you with a half-eaten bag of popcorn and an animated movie still running that you no longer felt like finishing.
“I’m sorry for making you think you didn’t mean anything to me.”
Did you make an impact on his life? Deep down, you had hoped you did, so he’d always remember you.
“I’m sorry for taking advantage of your friendship.”
That, he definitely did.
“I’m sorry for being the worst friend ever. I miss you so much, Y/N.”
Why were you crying again? Your hands came up to wipe at your cheeks before hurriedly video calling Kenma’s phone.
When he picked up, the first thing he did was sigh at the sight of your disheveled appearance. If you weren’t completely in tears, you may have laughed at his attitude towards the situation, but all you could do was let out a weak whimper.
“I think he’s drunk,” he spoke without you needing to say anything. The thought of Kuroo only texting you because he was inebriated hurt you even more.
“He’s such an asshole,” you managed to croak out between your cries. Kenma only nodded, eyes clearly focused on the screen of his PC. Briefly, they turned to look at you again and his expression softened.
“You should’ve blocked him,” he mumbled, and a weak laugh left your lips. “Are you going to reply?”
You were quiet for a bit, before shaking your head.
And with that, Kenma hummed softly. He stayed on the phone with you until you finished crying over his childhood friend, and only hung up when you finally promised him you’d call him again the next day.
Tomorrow came quicker than you thought it would, and you managed to ignore Kuroo’s messages without giving into the temptation to text him back. Your life went back to normal, relatively, aside from one thing.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you for not understanding me when you gave me advice. I was childish, and only wanted to hear what I wanted to hear.”
Now, Kuroo was texting you everyday with something he was supposedly sorry for. And now, you were calling Kenma everyday to beg him to tell Kuroo to stop, to just leave you alone so you could move on. And every day, Kenma would tell you that you both knew how stubborn Kuroo could be when he put his mind to something.
“I’m sorry for not being there for you whenever you needed me even though you were always the first one to worry about me and how I was doing.”
At this point, it had been a few days since the initial text, and you wanted nothing more than to find him and yell at him to leave you alone. You were fine with brief interactions, pretending like your feelings for him never existed and he never regarded you as someone he could trust with his deepest feelings. You were fine with that.
“I’m sorry for being stupid and being able to understand everyone else’s feelings except for my best friend’s.”
But now he was pushing your boundaries. He was asking for more than what you could give him without giving him your entire heart again. You knew, and Kenma probably knew too, that if Kuroo kept doing this, you’d end up forgiving him. You’d give up on all the work it took over the past few months to get over him and go back to being his best friend if he asked you to. All that courage you put in to cut him off in the first place would disappear, and you’d be back to square one.
“I’m sorry for not realizing you liked me, and that I like you too.”
That was the last straw.
“You’re a prick.”
His response was almost immediate.
“Can I call you?”
Before you even had the chance to reply, your phone was buzzing in your hand and you nearly dropped it in your surprise. Without thinking, you picked up. And you cursed yourself for doing that.
“Y/N,” his familiar voice calling your name in that teary tone nearly made you cry again. Instead, you bit down on your lower lip to prevent the sadness crawling up your throat. You could hear the noises of cars passing by on the other line. He must’ve been outside
“Y/N, I missed you so much,” Kuroo’s voice was weak, and cracked a bit as he spoke, as if he too was holding back tears. “Thank you for picking up the phone.”
There was silence between the two of you for a bit before you shakily breathed in.
“Please stop texting me,” you finally managed to mumble. “Please stop thinking that you actually have feelings for me just because I was a comfortable person to fall back to when you didn’t have anyone else to go on dates with at the time.”
“That’s not the case--”
“If that’s not the case, then what is, Kuroo?” you interrupted, voice trembling. “I’ve had these feelings for you for so long, and now all of a sudden I’m gone and you like me too? Fuck off, I can’t believe you of all people would think so lightly of my feelings.”
“Listen,” his voice was pleading. “It’s not like that. Can I talk to you in person?”
“If I see you, I’m just going to cry again,” you laughed bitterly. You could hear shuffling on the other line.
“Then I’ll hold you until you stop crying,” he retorted firmly, and your heart jumped in your chest. How long had you waited to hear him speak like that about you? Like he just might share the same adoration for you that you did for him?
“You won’t even be able to find me,” you mumbled more to yourself than to him. It wasn’t like you were at your apartment, after all. You needed to get away.
“If you really think that,” you jumped at the sound of his voice closer than you thought. Looking up from your feet, your traitorous heart rate raced at the sight of those familiar almond eyes and unfixable bedhead. “Then I must’ve been a really bad friend, huh?”
You spent an excessive amount of time just staring up at him from your spot on the swings, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. He had bags under his eyes, and his bedhead was a little messier than it had previously been. Despite all that, the man in front of you was undoubtedly the best friend you’d caught feelings for.
“...how’d you find me?” you finally asked as he took a seat on the swing next to your own.
“I wanna say that I’m just a genius, but honestly, you never removed me from seeing your location.”
Your eyes adjusted to the brightness of his screen. When you spotted the familiar profile photo of your smiling face on the map, all you could do was sigh. Anxiously, you ran your sweaty palms along your pants to wipe them off.
“I’ve said it a dozen times at this point,” Kuroo tucked his phone back into his pants, “But I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
“Yeah, I get it,” you mumbled, exhausted of his apologies at this point.
“I don’t know what more I can say besides I’m sorry,” he admitted weakly. You couldn’t find the courage to lift your head to look at his probably desperate expression. “I’ll be honest. I wanted to respect your wishes at first. If you wanted distance, I’d give it to you. But the more time passed, the more I missed you.”
You fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your shirt, trying to find any distraction so you didn’t have to listen to his explanation.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured, “I thought I was an idiot, for treating you the way I did. I took advantage of how comfortable I was around you, and when you finally left me, I realized how lucky I was to have someone I could be so myself with.”
He turned to look at you, and you finally lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. Your heart ached. He looked so tired.
“Have you been eating?” You asked quietly.
“See?” He smiled bitterly. “You care so much about me, and all I do is take that kindness and give nothing back.”
You felt tears prick at your eyes again as he took your hand and placed it onto his cheek, the familiar warmth of his hand reminding you that you truly would never be able to get over him.
“I hate you,” you lied through the tears slipping down your cheeks, “so much for everything you’ve done. For making me fall for you.”
“I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you’ll let me,” his other hand reached up to brush your tears away. “As your friend, and as someone who finally realized his feelings for you too late. And if I’m lucky, I hope you’ll let me back into your life.”
“It won’t be the same,” you admitted honestly. Truthfully, your friendship would never be the same after all the hurt you endured because of him. Things that may have seemed so small to other people hurt you deeply, solely because you trusted him so much.
“I trusted you to be there and to understand me,” you told him, “and you ignored all that. You can’t expect that to be fixed so quickly.”
“I know,” he brushed your hair behind your ear. “So I’ll give my all to build a new relationship with you. One where I’ll be better, and won’t hurt you ever again.”
The two of you were silent as you cried. Through your tears, you could see his wet eyes. The sight brought a weak laugh to your lips.
“Kenma said you’re way too stubborn when you put your mind to something,” you smiled sadly. “This is your last chance, Kuroo. Don’t ruin it.”
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hopeamarsu · 3 years
Text
Of potions and myths - Chapter 2
William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader
Word count 3,1k
Warnings: This one is pretty mild, but there is tiny amount of angst sprinkled in. Reference to an attempt at drugging ones date (nothing happened!), mythical creatures and potions. This chapter is from WIll’s POV
A/N: I just couldn’t let this one go and it’s turned into a bit of a gremlin to be honest. I have to thank my love Thia @clydesducktape for encouraging me to explore this and Will, the man has honestly swept into my mind from completely left field. Not that I’m complaining! 
Chapter 1 - Chapter 3
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The morning dawns and as the pale light of the sun hits Will’s car bonnet he stretches out, feeling his spine pop loudly as it protests the long hours sitting in the front seat. Despite the back ache, he does not regret spending the night watching over you. He would never regret it and the feeling both thrills and surprises him.
As he waits for the world to wake up with him, Will’s mind turns back to the previous evening and everything that happened. He’d been out alone, a rarity given how close his pack normally is, and originally had only thought of grabbing a single pint before heading home. But something had drawn him in, made him sit in that corner booth and watch the people milling around him, before his eye set upon you and your date. 
It had looked normal enough, two people talking and seemingly on a date, but he hadn’t been able to look away. Had he felt the mysterious pull even then? Maybe, maybe not. As he watched, you had turned sideways to dig through your bag for something and that’s when it had happened. With shaky but quick hands, the man had produced a tiny vial from his pocket and emptied it into the drink closest to you. 
Anger, white-hot and blazing, surged in his veins immediately and before Will had even fully realised what he was doing, he had walked over and opened his mouth. He had watched with pride as you had confronted the man and then with worry as you hurried out of the pub. He knew he had to follow you, to check that you were alright. 
He turns the memories in his mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when the magnetic connection came into play. He knows it was sudden, the warmth of it all creeping up his back and enveloping him completely as he felt all your emotions jumbling around in the aftermath of your date. 
He knows that in that moment and the ones that followed that he desperately wanted to crush you into his arms, snarl and growl at anyone trying to approach you and rip the throat of the man trying to hurt you. His inner wolf was in full-on attack mode. It had taken every single bit of training Will had gone through to keep the wolf in check. But the connection still persisted and he was powerless to stop what it wanted of him. 
Which leads him here, sitting in a parked car on the sidewalk of your apartment, his wolf alert and ready to jump into action. He doesn’t feel tired or weary at all. There is this need inside of him to be close to you, to protect you. It’s almost desperate at this point, how every nerve ending inside him wants to be close and make sure everything is perfect.
As Will runs his eyes across the street, scanning for anything that might be a threat, the front door opens and you step out. Immediately his eyes snap into your form as you pad across the front yard and into the street, your steps bringing you closer and closer by the second. You look beautiful in your sleepwear and an oversized hoodie wrapped around your body to shield you from the morning chill. You’d look so pretty wearing his hoodie, Will thinks absentmindedly as he tracks your movements. He steps out of his truck just as you reach him.
“Good morning.” 
“Morning. Did you sleep well?” He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s been here all night, Will knows you know. The air around you hums again but it’s more muted than last night and as Will tries to reach out mentally, he finds himself blocked. Your shields are back up, full force, and he hides his approval in a barely-there smirk. 
“Pretty okay. Would you want to come in? I think we have a lot to discuss. I have fresh coffee,” You offer with a small smile. He agrees quickly, the hum between your bodies elated that you invite him in, and follows you inside, hand hovering near your back as you lead the way. When you open your front door, Will is hit with a smell of jasmine, salt, candle wax and thyme and he recognizes the small display next to your door. Protection spells. His pride swells even more as he knows you’ve done this to protect yourself better.  
The second the door closes, the hum ramps up and Will can feel the tendrils from last night appear again, stronger than it was when you were standing outside. He wants to touch you, hold you, bite you, claim you. But he doesn’t make a move, planting his feet firmly into the floor and clenches his fist to keep his hand steady and by his side. It’s not his place yet, you need to talk first. 
Will watches as you close your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself too, before you open them and look straight at him. He likes it, how forward and confident you are as you do not try to hide or cower away from him. With another small smile, you gesture for him to follow you into the kitchen. It’s difficult to move when everything in him calls for you and your body, but somehow he makes it and as he sits on a kitchen chair and watches you move in your domain, Will finds himself enjoying the view and domesticity of it all. 
It tugs him deep inside, the mere idea that he could get to watch this morning after morning. Is it too fast to hope for these things? Possibly, but for Will, it doesn’t seem to matter as his mind keeps refueling the dreams with mental images of you in his own kitchen, padding around the hardwood floors with bare feet and dressed only in his flannel. 
The flashes move to images of you in his bed, your head on his pillow or chest as the morning light dances on your skin. Evenings spend on the couch, cuddling under a throw blanket and nights in his kitchen when he spoon-feeds you something he’s cooked for a date night. You with his brothers, sitting around a campfire as you trade jokes with them and they with you. 
Will is jostled into the present as you hand him a steaming cup, careful not to touch him in the process much to his approval and dismay, and take a seat opposite him. The first sip of the hot liquid feels like heaven on Will’s tongue, the notes hitting just right and he hums in approval. Keen eyes follow you copying his movements and for a while, it’s silent and comfortable as you sip from your respective cups.
The connection tingles in your sternum and you place the cup on the desk, hands flat on the surface. Your eyes reach for his and Will finds himself entranced by the hue in them. He would love to catalogue the flecks within those orbs. 
“I, uh… I spent some time last night looking into this. Us. The hum and connection.” You stumble a little in your words and there is an urge to hold your hand in comfort but he refrains. This is important, he reminds himself, more important than his carnal desires and his inner wolf huffs in displeasure. 
“I don’t have a lot of books at home, so I’ll need to continue this at the museum later on, but… this seems rare. Really rare. I don’t have a name for it or an explanation yet though and I would need more information from you as well before I, we, can venture deeper. Would it be alright with you? Are you comfortable sharing things with me?”
His immediate reaction is yes, ask what you want and he’ll tell you everything and that stops him in his tracks. This could lead to dangerous territory quite fast. It’s within his training and pack rules that his status, what he is and what he has done in the past are not to be discussed with outsiders.  “What kind of things?” Will asks instead.
“Well… For starters, what type of mythical are you? I know it’s invasive to ask but given that you are with Delta, you are clearly not a mundane. I’m hoping that will give us a clue on where to start looking.” It’s a reasonable question and it does give you both a starting place. Will relaxes his shoulders and releases the breath he’s holding before answering. No point in hiding after all. 
“I’m a werewolf. But I haven’t heard of this type of connection between two wolves before. May I ask, what type are you?” 
“I’m a… I don’t know exactly. I’ve always been interested in potions and history and spells but my family isn’t witches nor do I belong into a coven. I was raised as a mundane. As far as I know, there are no mythicals or supernaturals in my family lineage.”
He hoped the question would be easy for you, to give another clue, but instead it seems to have had an opposite effect as Will watches you drop your smile. You seem conflicted and embarrassed at the confession, hunching your shoulders a little as you shrink into yourself. The connection between tugs at Will’s heartstrings loudly and he’s unable to deny himself or it anymore. He reaches over the table and takes your hand in his, feeling oddly pleased as his hand engulfs yours. 
The second skin meets skin, golden and silver tendrils burst out of your skin and a gasp leaves your lips. You both watch with curiosity as they snake up his arm and under his Henley and under your shirt as well. Will can sense how warm they are, filling him up completely. He tracks their movement based on their warmth as they dance on his skin until they go still but remain tingling when they cover his entire body. He looks at you and sees the lines glow faintly all over your body. You look ethereal to him and he feels himself falling for you even more.
“It feels so warm…” You whisper, awe in your voice as you look at your connected hands. “It does. It’s not hurting you, right?” Will questions, running his thumb across your knuckle. He knows it doesn’t hurt him but he needs to be sure, his wolf poised to take away any discomfort you might feel. For all he knows it’s different for you than it is for him and he can’t help himself, the need to protect is far too strong now that you are touching each other. 
You shake your head, biting your lower lip as you catalogue the feeling. It calms him immediately but at the same time arousal courses in his veins as he witnesses just how alluring your mouth looks. He wants to surge forward, kiss you until your lips are swollen and bruised and your mind is filled with only him. His eyes are honed in on the sight, how the lip disappears and reappears plumper and plumper. He can practically hear his own blood rush in his ears as your eyes track the golden lines in his forearms.  
“Please stop that,” Will is unable to hold in the groan as he watches you chew on the flesh in concentration. “Huh?” Your eyes snap into his face, wide with surprise and you try to tug your hand free, but he only squeezes it tighter. Will knows his eyes have grown darker again as his wolf is howling to be let free. It wants to break free, tug you into its embrace and never let go. 
“Please stop biting your lip. It makes me want to bite it,” He growls and watches with delight as you shiver at his tone. You release your lip but the tender flesh, plush with blood pumping rapidly inside, calls to him. And once again he is unable to deny it, his resolve truly broken when you are this close and a harsh tug at your hand lifts you up from your seat and into his lap. 
You look at him, studying his face as Will raises one hand to your cheek. Another burst of tendrils escape once his calloused hand connects with the soft flesh and he shivers with the sensation. Fascinated, he watches as the small tendrils wrap around his large fingers and bleed into your cheekbones and up your forehead and hairline, creating patterns that make you glow again. 
Will searches for your eyes again before speaking in low tone, your faces close to one another. His eyes drop to your lips and all he can think of is pressing his mouth to them, finally having a taste of what the connection teases him of. 
“Do you want this?” 
Do you want me? 
“You need to say the words, sweetheart, before we go any further.” 
I will not be able to stop once you give me permission. Tell me no and this all stops now. It will break me, but I will honor your wishes.
“Kiss me, Will.” 
Your words have barely left your lips when Will claims them. It feels like something bursts out of his chest as he tastes the coffee, the cherries you must’ve had earlier and something uniquely yours. You taste of heaven and all the good things in the world and he never wants to stop tasting you and identifying the notes hitting his palette just right. He deepens the kiss by running his tongue on your lower lip, begging you to grant him access to nirvana. Once you do, opening up shyly, he feels he’s ready to burst into flames when he gets the first real flavor of you.   
The wolf howls in joy as Will continues to explore your mouth, dipping his tongue inside it to battle with yours. He feels your hand on the back of his neck, tugging at the hair as you pull him closer and closer. The hand that was holding yours releases its hold before pressing against your lower back to push your chests together. He wants you close, closer than you are now and his wolf agrees. The clothes separating your skin from his feel itchy and constricting but Will is grateful because it keeps him somewhat coherent. As much as he wants to, needs you, craves you, he needs to tread carefully and not lose himself. 
All too soon the need for air is too much and you pull back, ending the kiss. “Is this… Umm, is this normal?” You sound winded, out of breath and the wolf preens, happy to have made you like this. Will shakes his head minutely, pressing his forehead into yours. He needs to feel his skin connected to yours, can’t let it slip even for a moment. He traces your neck with one finger, enjoying how you tremble again in his hold. 
“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t felt like this before.”
“Me either. But this feels big.” He nods. 
You breathe in sync for a minute, matching each other as the tingling of the tendrils flickers. Will rubs his thumb on your lower back, lazy circles that make you quiver minutely, a sensation that he eagerly abrobs in his own body. 
“What does this mean?”
“I don’t know, but I want to keep exploring this, us, and this connection.”
“Me too.”
You speak in whispered tones, within your own bubble, even if you are alone together in your apartment. Tentative hands move across the planes and curves of bodies as you trade a few more kisses, each one accompanied by the hum and tendrils that skip from one patch of skin to the other, bathing the room in luminescence.   
Will agrees with your assessment earlier, there needs to be more research into whatever this is. And he knows of only one place to look for answers. “We need to visit the pack elders.” He tells you quietly as you pull away from the latest kiss, still stroking your neck and shoulder in a calming manner. 
“Are they willing to help?” You question softly, knowing how strict some packs are, not allowing any outsiders to enter the area deemed for pack members only. It’s the same for some of the witch covens you’ve tried to approach, hoping to learn more and explore your skills only to be turned away because you are mundane. It has broken some of your spirit, being turned away one too many times, even if you’ve come to terms with it and understand their reasoning. But as the sadness of it all breaks through your shields, Will is almost pushed back by its magnitude.
He wants to take away all the pain you've ever felt, the hurt you feel almost too much for him and his wolf to handle. But he can’t do that, Will reminds himself ruefully, he doesn’t know how. So he gathers you close, placing his hand on your neck as he guides you to rest sideways against his torso, his other hand resting on your hip, offering comfort this way. You breathe in his scent, calming cedarwood and juniper berry tones, and close your eyes to rest for a moment. 
It takes a lot out of you to hold up the shields and they slip whenever your feelings become too much and often they are projected outwards, letting others feel them too. Lack of training and lack of skill, you think but don’t voice it out loud. But you are glad he’s not running from you because of that and burrow in a bit deeper, a pleased sound leaving his chest as Will feels you get closer. He kisses your forehead gently before speaking, the vibration of his chest low and comforting.
“They are. The Miller-Morales pack might not be the biggest out there, but we are tight and welcoming. The elders will help us figure all this out. I promise you.”
*
Of potions and myths taglist: @mylifeisactuallyamess @luxmundee @innerpaperexpertcloud
Everything taglist (I fully understand if you want to skip this one, please let me know and I’ll remove you!) @clydesducktape @wayward-rose @themuseic @miraclesabound @clydesfavoritegirl @a-true-janian-reply  @10blurredsmoke10  @caillea @mariesackler​
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speechlessxx · 4 years
Text
Naïveté (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)
Summary: Ransom loves control and his sweet, innocent plaything doesn’t know better. 
Warnings: DARKish Ransom with hints of soft Ransom but not really, this fic is lowkey a mess, a little uncomfortable situations, unprotected sex, implied AGE GAP, angst, mutual obsession, choking, Ransom is a little off (but what’s new), Sugar Daddy/Baby relationship, innocent reader, implied Dom/Sub dynamic, loss of virginity, poorly written attempt at SMUT
Word Count: 4.7k
Please do not read if anything makes you uncomfortable. 
READ WARNINGS
This is my first time writing smut. Please don’t hate me. 
Something a little different from what I usually write (?)
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“You’re not going to see him again, are you?” your friend, Joey, asked you. Worried, judgmental lines sprinkled across his young face as he stared at you. You frowned and shook your head as you brought the straw of your iced coffee to your lips. “Good.” He muttered. “That guy was a creep.”
“He's not that bad,” you argued. 
“(Y/N), he was the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you,” Joey scoffed as he drank his drink. “I’m just glad you kicked him to the curb before things got too intense.” 
You stayed silent and nodded, taking another sip from the straw. Joey began to talk about your friend group’s evening plans to hit up this bar, but your mind was taking you somewhere else.
You couldn’t tell Joey the truth. It’d disappoint him. It would anger him and jeopardize your friendship. 
But you couldn’t admit that Ransom Drysdale had a hold on you, and you didn’t want him to let go.
As an aspiring writer, you were interning at Blood Like Wine Publishing under Ransom’s uncle, Walt Thrombey. In a twisted turn of events, Walt took a liking to you.
Your doe-eyes and bright optimism intrigued him. He always fluttered around you like a moth to a flame and always had off-putting conversations with you.
It started with his hands on your shoulders, rubbing them in a way that made you uneasy. Then, it was pushing your hair to the side to expose the back of your neck, or his hands that would slither down to the small of your back. Everything about the man made you uncomfortable, but you’d never spoke out against it in fear of losing your internship. 
One day, Walt invited you over to his grandfather’s manor. “A family party,” he explained. And though you were afraid of accepting – calling it an intrusion – Walt insisted. “A chance to meet a world-renowned author,” he said. How could you refuse?
You met Ransom at that party. From the moment you walked through the doors, he knew he had to have you. He was a brat that way.
Walt was too preoccupied with arguing with his father to introduce you to the family. So, you kept to yourself, finding sanctuary in Harlan’s nurse, Marta, who looked just as out of place as you did. 
Unbeknownst to either of you, Ransom was listening in on your conversation – stalking you as if you were his prey.
Marta had explained to you that she was very fortunate to work with Harlan and that he was a kind man. Ransom couldn’t help but rolled his eyes when Marta had brought up how she and his grandfather were great friends. Blah, blah, blah, he thought as she droned on.
Then, he heard you open up about yourself. 
About how your scholarship was barely covering your tuition and how you were too late to apply to housing, so you had to live off campus in a ratty apartment whose rent was too much to handle on a monthly basis. You told Marta about how your part-time job at the local coffee shop next to campus was barely paying you enough for groceries, let alone the rest of your expenses.
The gears inside Ransom’s devious mind began to turn as a plan started to form in his head.
When Marta had been whisked away into a conversation about immigration with his father, Ransom found the perfect opportunity to meet you.
“I’m Ransom,” he introduced.
“(Y/N),” you greeted, offering your hand. He took it and brought it to his lips. Your cheeks flushed. Where all the Thrombey men this welcoming - this comfortable?Ransom smirked at your reaction.
Similar to his uncle, his hand found its way to the small of your back as he maneuvered you to the back door. Perhaps, it was simply a Thrombey gesture?
It was easy to navigate through a conversation with you. You were a good listener, Ransom was a great talker. The conversation went by smoothly as Ransom droned on and on about himself (something he was really good at). 
“I have too much money. I don’t know what to do with myself,” Ransom had joked, steering the conversation in his favor.
You chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I wish I had that problem.” Ransom responded with a hum, encouraging you to open up about your financial troubles (though he knew it all from eavesdropping earlier).
“I think I have the perfect solution to both our troubles,” Ransom proposed. 
And the rest was history. 
-=+=-
No one close to you knew the exact extent of the relationship. You tried to create the narrative that you met Ransom through Walt and the relationship just blossomed.
You were embarrassed to admit that Ransom was paying your rent, tuition, and giving you a weekly allowance that helped you get by.
Joey had even joked that working for the Thrombeys was changing you when he noticed your sudden change in labels. You had forgone the Forever 21 sales section and wore the luxury brands that Ransom deemed worthy to be draped over his angel.
When your friends met Ransom - the man keeping you afloat by sharing his own riches – they knew something was up. Though they didn’t have a clue about the financial aspect of the relationship, they knew that Ransom was bad news.
They’d tell you he stared at you like a piece of meat. He’d watch your every move as if he were engraving your very image in his mind. Joey would tell you he didn’t like the way Ransom had a grip on you every time you were together. 
“He’s possessive and not in a cute way,” Joey warned you, but you shrugged him – and all your friends – off.
You’d tell them that Ransom loved you... But were you trying to convince them or yourself?
Your friends saw through Ransom. They saw how he was taking advantage of your innocence and your naivete.
When you told Ransom of your friends’ opinions, he told you to ignore it, so you did. But as time went on, it was clear that their reluctance to be accepting of the relationship bothered you. You blamed it on the age difference. (You were still in college and Ransom was in his mid-thirties). But it was more than that and your friends didn’t quite know how to explain it to you. You were just so in love with the guy - who were they to dictate your love life? They just cared about your well being. 
So, Ransom commanded that you lie to everyone. “Tell them we broke up,” Ransom told you. “Just a fib to get them off your back.” When you showed reluctance, Ransom said with pleading eyes, “do it because I love you.”
You were always too trusting for your own good.
But you couldn’t see that. You saw Ransom as your white knight – your savior. He made sure whatever balance your scholarship left was paid for. He even got you out of that ratty apartment and into a better one that was worth the expensive rent. It was closer to campus, too, so you didn’t have to ride the bus. He kept you fed and clothed. Ransom kept you afloat. 
You were afraid to let him go – afraid that his interest would fade, and another girl would be the apple of his eye. What would happen to you then? So, you tried to become everything Ransom wanted. You depended on him after all...
Just like he planned it.
-=+=-
The ride was silent. The text on your phone read Harlan’s manor. Need you here. NOW.
The driver asked you if you wanted him to turn on the radio. He was just as eager to ease the tension, so you gladly obliged. When he arrived at the family manor, he even told you, “good luck, miss.”
You gave him a nervous smile. What were you stepping into? (And were you prepared for the aftermath?).
You didn’t bother to knock on the door. He was already waiting outside for you. A cigarette in his hand. You frowned as he extinguished it against the brick wall.
“Ransom, hey,” you offered him a smile.
He didn’t return it. He had a scowl on his face and something on his mind. His face scrunched up in aggravation. He only gave you a hard stare. His blue eyes staring at you in the dark night.
He eyed you up and down. You wore a white lace dress from whatever designer (he didn’t care). He liked white on you and you knew that. It made you look like an angel – his angel. A symbol of purity – something you naturally were.
“You’re late,” he said. His voice was hard, matching the expression etched on his face. Hard and disapproving.
“I… I was with Joey,” you explained. “He was getting suspicious, so we went on a coffee date – “
“Did I ask?” Ransom snapped. “It’s part of the agreement. You make yourself available to me 24/7. That’s why I pay you so much.” You gulped as you adverted your eyes, unable to hold his angry glare for too long. He let out a sigh and held out his hand. You glanced at him, uncertainty written all over your face. “I’m not going to wait forever, (Y/N).”
“Sorry,” you muttered and took his hand. Ransom pulled you to him. His lips smashed against yours and you cringed at the faint smell of smoke.
You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away – trying to catch your breath. But his grip tightened. “Kiss back,” he muttered into the kiss, growing impatience at your insubordination. Reluctantly, you did as you were told. After long minutes of the uncomfortable session, he pulled away and eyed you again. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you,” you said, your voice hushed. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Why’d you asked me to come?”
“I was bored,” he shrugged. What he didn’t say was, there’s a situation I can’t handle, so I need something I can control around me or else I’ll lose my mind.
“So, I’m entertainment?” you joked, nervously. He laughed a bit. You looked into the house through the windows. You could hear faint chatter and cheers of happy birthday. “It’s someone’s birthday?” you asked.
“Harlan’s,” Ransom nodded.
“Oh, I should probably pop in and – “you began walking towards the door.
“Don’t,” Ransom ordered through clenched teeth, and you froze in your tracks. Your hand was grazing the cool metal of the doorknob. You pulled your hand away and walked back to stand in front of Ransom. “Good girl,” he muttered, an arm slinging itself around your waist. “We should get out of here.” He whispered, stealing another kiss from your sweet lips.
“My friends are at this bar tonight,” you offered. “We could stop by.”
“And let them know we’re seeing each other again?” Ransom laughed, dryly. “I’d rather not let them turn you against me.”
“No one could ever do that,” you assured him.
“Let’s go to my place,” Ransom muttered. “Something I want to show you.” He said as he nipped at the exposed skin of your neck. You yelped in surprise as a strange feeling shot through you.
Ransom has invited you over once or twice before. Most of your outings usually ended with him dropping you off at your apartment. He didn’t normally offer to take you to his place or swing by. The offer was spontaneous – different.
You smiled and nodded, not wanting to piss him off more than he already was.
He led you to his Beamer. The ride was silent, and Ransom didn’t bother to try to ease the tension. No music. No conversation. Just a hand that rubbed the inside of your thigh in a manner that unsettled you.
Sure, Ransom was handsy at times, but he kept his distance from your most intimate areas. He’d always had to have a hand on your waist or your hand gripped in his. The most he’s ever done to make you uncomfortable was when he wrapped his hand around your neck to keep you from turning away when he kissed you. That was it.
In truth, Ransom saw you like a delicate doll. Such purity and innocence should be maintained. But tonight, Ransom was losing control – his chat with Harlan left him spiraling. 
The only thing he still had control over was sitting in the passenger seat of his car.
-=+=-
His home was just as you remembered it. Large windows, large spaces, large rooms. It was clean, for the most part. A few clothing items discarded on the floor, some hung on chairs. He shrugged off his dark grey cardigan and hung it on one of the chairs, joining the other clothes.
Ransom led you straight into his kitchen. He fetched a beer and a bottle of water. You were never much of a drinker. Ransom knew that. He stared at you as you wrapped your lips around the bottle’s opening and drank it carefully. He was still deciding – trying to make up his mind.
Should he ruin his little plaything now? Or shall he wait?
“You said you wanted to show me something?” You asked.
He nodded. “It can wait.” He walked over to you. You were leaning against his kitchen island. He plucked the bottle from your hand, placing it to the side along with his beer, and brought his hands to your hips.
“Rans – umph!” You yelped as he effortlessly lifted you up onto the counter. “What are you doing?” You asked him with a small, nervous laugh. Your face heated up as each of his hands settled to both of your knees and spread them. When you tried to fight against his grips, Ransom just slotted his waist between your legs. “Ransom?” You asked as he placed one hand on your waist and the other at the back of your neck. He hummed quietly. His eyes didn’t meet yours. They simply stared are your lips. “What cha doin’ there?”
He didn’t respond. He captured your lips with his and you were too stunned to react, so you simply mirrored his actions.
Sometimes Ransom got like this. Sometimes he wouldn’t talk and he’d just assume you’d read his mind. But tonight, your minds weren’t in unison.
You were under the impression he just needed physical contact (which was true). You thought he just needed comfort and you were more than willing to give it to him.
But tonight, Ransom wanted something much more than simple kisses and a few touches.
You tried to pull away to catch your breath, but Ransom pulled you back. He licked at your bottom lip, wanting entrance, but you refused him. So, in retaliation, Ransom yanked your hair which made you yelp. He took the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. He didn’t need to fight for dominance. You just sat there with your mouth open, unsure of what to do – unsure of how to react. He had never been physical with you – he had never tried to hurt you.
The kiss was heated. You wished it were passionate or loving, but it wasn’t that. It was something else entirely.
Desperate to catch your breath, you bit on his tongue. It was a mistake. One that you’d pay for. But you were desperate.
He pulled away suddenly. “What the fuck!” He snapped.
“I’m – I’m sorry, Ransom – I just,” you stammered, unable to explain yourself. “I – I couldn’t breathe. I’m sorry, Ransom.”
Your eyes finally met. His bright blue eyes were dark like the night sky. And it was then you understood what Joey and all your friends told you. He stared at you like he was starved and you were the only thing on the menu.
“You little, ungrateful bitch,” Ransom spat. One of his hands wrapped firmly around your throat, tightening slightly and cutting off your oxygen. “You breathe when I let you. You live because I let you. The clothes you wear, the food you eat, the fucking apartment you live in – it’s all because I gave it to you. You could at least show some appreciation.” 
His grip tightened until you could see tiny black dots peppering your vision. And then suddenly, Ransom let go.
You fell forward into Ransom. Your head in the crook of his neck and hands on his shoulder. You were coughing and sputtering out apologizes, unsure of what else to tell him.
“You’re gonna show me some appreciation, baby,” he cooed but his voice was nowhere near comforting. It was taunting. “Alright?” You nodded. “Okay, c’mon,” he hoisted you up. Panicked, you wrapped your arms around him and your legs around his torso, afraid he would drop you. “I got you, sweet angel… I got you.”
You weren’t sure where he was taking you until you were laid on soft, satin sheets. You opened your eyes and saw Ransom standing at the foot of the bed. He pulled his sweater from his body and you felt your jaw drop. Why would he hide his toned physique beneath sweaters? It was a mystery to you.
He smirked when he caught you ogling him. He was always so cocky.
“How?” you murmured. He cocked an eyebrow up at you. “How am I going to show you?”
Ransom’s smirk widened as he reached down for you. His fingers lightly traced the neckline of the dress. “I think you know,” he muttered. 
Your heart thudded against your chest in realization. You tried to scoot away from him, but Ransom leaned his body forward, encaging you.
“You don’t want to make me mad, baby, do you?” He whispered, his tone still taunting. His hot breath against your ear. You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Good. Because I don’t think you want me to take away all the nice things I’ve given you, right?” You nodded. “Take off the dress for me.” He ordered, releasing you.
You did as you were told, not wanting to make him angry. His breath hitched when you revealed yourself to him. He always knew you were beautiful. The idea of you being untouched – unclaimed – made blood flow straight to his member.
His expert fingers made quick work of your bra clasp. He discarded your brassiere along with his sweater and tutted at you when your hands instinctively went to cover yourself up. He pried your hands away from your chest. 
“Don’t cover yourself up, angel,” he told you, leaning forward and leaving a trail of sloppy, wet kisses down your neck. He kissed the bruises that were forming from his grip moments ago. He scolded himself for damaging the delicate skin of his angel.
He kissed down your collarbones and found his way to your breasts. He took his time worshiping your body. There was no rush (the night was still young). 
As his lips worked on one of your mounds, his fingertips toyed with the other. You couldn’t hold back the moans that were escaping you and the heat that presented itself in between your legs. 
Everything was so foreign to you. All you could do was toy with the hair on the back of Ransom’s head and moan his name.
He moved one of his hands to cup your clothed sex. He felt the increasingly dampening spot through the delicate material and moaned against your nipple. He stared up at you as he continued his assault. Your eyes were closed tightly and your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape as you continued to let out soft moans. The sound going straight to his crotch.
In one swift motion, Ransom was able to pull your underwear down your legs. The material fell to the floor and he kicked it to join the rest of the discarded clothing. He pulled away from you to admire your body, splayed out on his bed like an offering. Your cunt glistening in the pale moonlight, calling his name. He fumbled with his belt as he shoved his slacks along with his boxer briefs down.
Your eyes finally opened and were met with the intimidating appendage. Long and thick. Fear suddenly flooded through you. It wouldn’t fit. Was this worth it? Was surrendering your virginity to Ransom – your white knight, your savior – worth the luxury? Worth the money?
“Don’t be scared, angel,” Ransom muttered as he leaned over you. You were shaking. He shushed you as you thrashed around. “I give you so many things, baby girl,” he said lowly, his voice turning into a growl. “At least give me this in return.”
You sniffled before nodding. You were afraid though you weren’t sure what frightened you more. The menacing crazed look on Ransom’s beautiful face or the fear that you were about to lose your virginity.
Ransom’s hands traced the curves of your body, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. And then one of his hands carefully rubbed against your folds, finding your clit expertly. You felt your muscles clench. He rubbed it in tight circles, causing electricity to run through you. 
As much as Ransom was eager to be inside of you, he didn’t want to hurt his angel. He had to prep his sweet, innocent angel. He wanted his angel to enjoy this.
Your breathing was shaky as you slowly gave into the feeling. He shifted in his position and carefully thrusted two fingers into your cunt. You gasped at the sudden intrusion. You threw your head back as he stroked your inner walls, exploring your untried canal.
“You’re wet, angel, and we barely begun,” Ransom said ever so cockily. You moaned in response. No words could form. You tried to bite onto your bottom lip, trying to silence yourself. But Ransom tutted at you. He slapped your clit and you yelped in surprise. “I want to hear every sound.” He ordered before scissoring your opening, attempting to stretch you open. The wet, slick sounds accompanied by your moans were all too addicting to the man that hovered over you.
You felt helpless and pathetic. You were putty in his hands. He felt you clench around his fingers when he curled them, brushing against a certain spot. He smirked as he continued to play with that spot and thrusted a third finger into you. You mewled against him as your hands fisted the satin sheets.
“Ran – Ransom,” you panted, eyes watery. “Something’s – something’s happening…” you moaned as you felt a coil within your stomach snap. You screamed as your orgasm crashed through you. Ransom smirked watched you drip around his hand. He pulled away from your pussy and your eyes widened as he slowly brought his fingers to his lips and sucked away your juices.
“Want a taste?” he asked you. You didn’t respond as he brought one of his fingers and brushed it against your lips. He then leaned down and stole another hungry kiss, sharing your taste.
While you were distracted from your previous orgasm and from the kiss, Ransom pumped his member and lined it up with you.
Catching you off guard, he pushed in. You shuddered in pain, pulling your lips away from him as your eyes widened in pain. The stretch itself was unbearable.
He pushed his tip in and you nearly shrieked. “Ransom – “you whimpered. “It hurts – It hurts!”
Ransom simply shushed you and kissed your lips. “Relax, angel… just relax for me.” You tried to do as you were told but found it quite difficult. He continued to push in inch by inch and you were afraid he was never-ending. “You’re so tight,” he murmured against your lips. You bit your lip as tears started to prick in your eyes.
And finally, he bottomed out. You had never felt so full. You swore you could feel him in your stomach. 
Ransom looked down to where you were both connected and groaned. He loomed over your body as you willed your muscles to relax around him. “Hey, hey,” he said, softly, using one of his hands to turn you to face him. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” he praised and began to pull out.
His strokes were gentle. Pulling out only a few inches before thrusting back in. Only when the pain begun to dull and your whimpers turned into moans again, did Ransom pick up the pace. The slapping of skin and his groans. Everything started to feel cloudy. You felt as if he were tearing you apart, but your body welcomed the pain that was turning into pleasure.
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you hung onto him as he ravaged you. You continued to mewl and moan into his neck as you felt the same coil in your stomach tighten. Your walls clenched around Ransom and he knew you were close again. He reached back down to your clit and rubbed it again.
“C’mon, baby, come for me,” Ransom urged you as he thrusted. He thrusted all the way in and grinded against your sex. You moaned as you tensed, the coil bursting once again. Ransom groaned as you tightened around him like a vice, milking him and throwing him off the edge with you. He filled you up with his thick cum, but he continued to pump into you, painting your walls – marking you as his.
You were a breathless, sweaty mess as he pushed you into another orgasm with his thrusts. You were convulsing and twitching underneath him, fighting to stay conscious. You felt Ransom pull out completely and felt your mixed juices drip from your pussy. Your vision was hazy as your head turned to the side, eyes fluttering close.
Ransom winced when he looked down. Your blood covered his length and was splattered all over your lower body. He sighed and looked at the clock. It was late, but he knew that there would still be guests over at the house. It was the perfect time, especially with you falling asleep.
“You did so good for me, angel,” he whispered to your sleeping body as he wiped your blood away with his sweater. He decided that he’d deal with the bloodstained sheets when he returned. You were most likely still going to be knocked out. 
He pressed a kiss to your lips and smiled. Even in sleep – even after being fucked – you still looked like an angel.
When you awoke, the sheets had been changed but you were still stark naked. Daylight was trickling through the windows. Ransom emerged from the bathroom door. “You’re awake,” he smiled wickedly at you. You returned a shy smile when you realized he was only in a towel with water droplets painting his Adonis-like body. You looked away as he dressed himself. He smirked. You were still bashful as if the night before he wasn’t buried deep inside of you.
“Did you leave?” you ask. Your heart dropped at the thought.
He shook his head and relief washed over you as he sat next to you on the bed. His finger gently traced your jaw before leaning in to give you a kiss. “I was here all night, all morning, too,” Ransom lied. “You’ll attest to that right?”
“What?”
“I cleaned you up after we had sex,” Ransom told you. “Changed the sheets and then held you throughout the night. I told you I loved you and I thanked you for allowing me to be the first - and only - man inside of you .”
“Right.” You nodded, blushing at his words.
“I didn’t leave you, angel.” Ransom promised. “I was with you all night, all morning.”
-=+=-
“Where was Mr. Drysdale the night of his grandfather’s death?” the prosecutor asked you.
You looked around the courtroom and met Ransom’s blue eyes. He gave you a small nod, knowing you won’t let him down. He did this all for you – so that he can continue taking care of you – after all.
“Uh,” you muttered into the microphone, “he was with me… at his house.”
“Mr. Drysdale’s statement says that he asked you to join him at the manor the night of Harlan Thrombey’s birthday party, yet no one in the family saw you?”
You nodded. “Ransom – Hugh – was already outside when I arrived. I wanted to go inside, but he told me not to and he asked if I’d accompany him to his house.”
“So, you can account to Mr. Drysdale’s whereabouts the whole night?” The prosecutor prompted. “There were no times that he stepped out? Even when you were asleep?”
You nodded. “He was with me all night, all morning, too.”
Ransom smiled at you when you met his eyes. Good girl. He thought. His sweet little angel still under his control.
3K notes · View notes
cowboy-like-mee · 4 years
Text
a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be
summary: y/n deals with the aftermath of harry leaving her
warnings: angst af!!!! possible ED tw 
word count: 2k
a/n: i was really sad so i started writing this to try to relieve some of the emotions built up in my body :)))))) 
this is based off the song “a soulmate who wasn’t meant to be” by jess benko. lyrics are spread throughout this in bold and italics so hopefully it isn’t too confusing!!
masterlist
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Nothing hurts more than pretending like everything’s okay, when you’re falling apart on the inside. When you want nothing more than to be with your love. Hold him in your arms and give him little kisses whenever you want. Dance around the kitchen and sing songs from your youth.  
Harry. Beautiful Harry. Your boy.
He’s not yours anymore. You have to remind yourself.
You’re miserable without him, but he’s better without you. The pain of being with you was much greater than the thought of leaving you. 
So he left. 
You’ll never forgive yourself. 
Everyday seems to get worse. The days blend together. 
You fall asleep, not sleeping well. You wake up, regretfully, tired from another restless night. The day drags on, never seeming to end. You walk around like a zombie. Daydreaming about going home to the love of your life, instead going home to an empty apartment and an empty fridge.
You can’t bring yourself to eat. You can’t bring yourself to even try to watch TV. You go straight to bed and stare at the ceiling till you eventually fall asleep. And then it repeats. And repeats. Again and again and again. 
You can’t even remember what day it is. You don’t know if you’re supposed to go to work or if you’re off. You wake up anyway. Anything to distract yourself from the never ending cycle of numbness and loneliness. Self loathing and empty stomachs. The nagging feeling in the back of your mind telling you things could have been different.
Maybe if you had done things a little different. Maybe if you had smiled a little more. Laughed at a few more of his jokes or hugged him a little bit tighter. Maybe if you had started accepting his offer to go on walks with him. Or watched a few more movies with him.
 If you could go back you would never say no to anything he requested. 
You would gladly sit through any of the god awful romantic comedies he’s obsessed with. Or drink the terrible black coffee he has every morning. 
But no. Things change and people change. You drifted apart. You’ll never have him again. The giggles and late night love making. Him singing you to sleep or washing each other’s hair in the shower. 
Sobs wrack your body for the first time in months. You hadn’t cried like this since the day he left. The memories seep back into your conscious, haunting you.
His bright green eyes flash behind your eyelids. His voice is ringing through your ears. You can feel his lips on your neck and his hands wrapped around your body. 
You stand up, shaking your head and pulling at the roots of your hair. Trying to rip the memories straight out of your brain. You’ve never felt this kind of pain. Pure anguish. The reality finally setting in that he’s gone.
He had finally had enough of you. What he once loved and adored, he loathed.
He was far too gone once you realized. You were far too selfish to realize the man you love was slowly falling out of love with you.  
“Y/N?” He had called your name gently.
“Hm?” You hummed, not looking up from your phone where you had been texting your friend for the last half an hour. 
He took a deep breath, trying not to snap. “Can we talk?”
This got your attention. You looked up, brows furrowed, and set your phone down on the couch. “What?”
“I-I...I think we should take a break.
Your heart dropped to your stomach. 
“Wh-what?” You whispered, feeling tear prick your eyes.
“I...want to take a break from each other.”
You stared at the man sitting in front of you. You noticed how different he looked from the man you fell in love with. He looked sad. He looked exhausted. You didn’t know at the time it was because of you. You thought maybe he was having a rough time with himself. But now it’s crystal clear.
 You changed. You weren’t the same woman he fell in love with. You two barely went on dates. You hadn’t had sex in months. You two hadn’t even been going to bed together. You would always go to bed first. He would sit in the living room, crying over his broken relationship. He would eventually crawl into bed, laying as far from you as possible. You hadn’t even noticed, being too caught up in your own life, not noticing your boyfriend slowly crumbling apart in front of your eyes.
So you agreed. You agreed to take a break from each other for two months. You wouldn’t date anybody or sleep with anyone, but you two had to stay apart from each other. It was easier for him than he hoped. He felt like he had freedom. He felt like he could breathe finally, not suffocating in his own home.
You had a different experience. You never realized how much you relied on him. The dishes piled up and your laundry was never washed. The fridge never got full of groceries at the beginning of the week. You had no one to cook you dinner or ask how you looked in a certain outfit. You missed him.
The two months was almost over and you had already planned out everything you were going to say. Your apology and your speech on how much you appreciated and loved him. You knew you fucked up and you knew you had to own up to your mistakes. Your negligence to him.
And then you got the call.  
Stranger, that's all I see
The piercing sound of your phone ringing cut through the silence of the apartment. You jumped in your spot on the couch, where you were folding your clothes. 
When I look into your eyes
Harry’s contact flashed across the screen. You didn't know if you should feel relieved or terrified. Did he finally have enough of this break and was ready to come running into your open arms? 
You hesitantly slid across the bottom of the screen to answer.
“Harry?” 
He cleared his throat. “Hey, Y/N.”
“Hey, I’ve missed you so much, Harry.”
He winced at the sentence, his eyes already beginning to water and his throat feeling tight. “Listen,  Y/N. I have something to tell you.”
A soulmate who wasn't meant to be
Your heart stops beating at the tone of his voice. “Okay...”
You heard his breathing over the line for a few heartbeats before he finally spit it out, “I’m moving back home.”
Your heart leaped put of your chest. “Harry! I’m so happy. I can’t wait to see you. I’ve reorganized a lot of our place. I’ve had a lot of free time-”
“No, Y/N. I’m moving back to England.” He cut you off. 
Your mouth hung open. A lump immediately formed in your throat. You attempted to swallow it down. “Oh.” You let out shakily, trying to hide the sound of the trembling in your voice.
“Yeah.”
You both sat in silence for a minute, not knowing what to say.
“So, when are you coming back?”
He tried to refrain from rolling his eyes. You were always so stubborn, and that was one of the things he used to love about you.
He sighed loudly, “I’m not coming back.”
“Are-are you breaking up with me, H?”
He squeezed his eye shut and shook his head. No matter how bad you are for him, he still loved you, and it still fucking hurts to do this. 
“Yes, Y/N. I’m breaking up with you.” He said as steadily as he could manage.
Stranger, who knows all my secrets
You covered your mouth with your hand to stifle the cries leaving your body. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me over the phone!” You yelled into the phone, unable to control your emotions any longer.
“We haven’t seen each other in months, Y/N! You should’ve known this was gonna happen eventually!”
“I thought this break was supposed to make us come out stronger, not tear us apart!”
“We’ve been torn apart for a lot longer than you think.”
You didn’t know how to reply. He was right. You just never realized it. He had been feeling this way for a long time. This was inevitable. 
“I’m so sorry, Harry. This is all my fault. I love you so much. You’re the only thing that holds me together. I know I fucked up and I ruined our relationship and everything good we had. Please, please, please, don’t do this. I'll do anything for another chance. We can take it slow. Anything. I can’t lose you, baby. You’re the love of my life. My light.”
He shakes his head and blinks away the tear threatening to spill over. “Y/N, no. I can’t keep doing this. We haven't been good for a long time. I‘m broken. I can’t keep going in circles. I need time for myself. We’ll find other people. I love you and I’ll always love you, but I can’t be with you anymore.”
You cried harder at his words. Nothing hurts more than knowing he’s leaving because you hurt him so bad. He still loves you.
The thought of Harry loving anyone else fucking hurts. The thought of him kissing another person and giving them the secret touches you used to share. You’re breathing is shallow and quick, sobs wracking your body.
“H, please. I-I can’t-”
“Goodbye, Y/N. Maybe one day in the future we can talk again, but I have to go. You’ll be okay.” He hung up. 
Can pull me apart and break my heart
You immediately tried to call him back, ready to plead with him to try again with you. 
The call didn’t go through. He blocked your number. You threw your phone across the room, hearing the glass shatter as it hit the wall then the ground. You dropped to the ground, loud cried of misery leaving your body. 
It went on like this for days, weeks. You eventually had nothing left to cry. Your mind going numb. Everything reminded you of him. His smell lingering in your once shared apartment. The stuff he ever bothered picking up still sitting around your apartment. Even looking at yourself in the mirror reminds you of him. The way he would compliment very feature on your face, making you develop the confidence he had instilled in you.
All of that leads to now. 
The empty apartment and the grumbling stomach. You can’t remember the last time you had a proper meal. Nothing wanting to stay down. 
So there you sit. In your empty home. Surrounded by long lost memories of the love you once shared with Harry. Your heart shattered into a million pieces. Feeling uncapable of ever loving again. Thinking of your lost love, thousands of miles away. Missing a piece of your soul, never to be replaced again. 
But you’ll be okay. He said you would be. 
A soulmate who wasn't meant to be
pt 2
445 notes · View notes
mxvladdy · 3 years
Text
Flutter
Fandom: Devil May Cry
Contains: pregnancy talk (kinda), angst, and drama
Pairing: Dante x GN!Reader
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and a brief mention of terminating (like a sentence but still)
Back on my bullshit with the baby fics lol. I love the trope idk why.
Thump thump thump-thump thump thump
Dante stirs with a huff of annoyance, his ears twitch focusing on the insufferable rhythm that was stopping him from resting. It started a few hours ago. Nothing major, something he could definitely doze through. The slow irregular was almost calming, until it got louder. At first he had chalked it up to one of the many freaky experimental weapons dangling in Nico’s tiny workspace at the back of the crowded van. They tended to pop and hiss if some raw materials got too close. But it had picked up in the past hour, growing consistent and strong, really strong. Strong enough to make it hard to ignore. Dante cracks open a bloodshot eye looking around at the van’s occupants to find the culprit.
Nero sat oblivious to the world on the floor across from him leaning on the side of the van’s tire well. His eyes are shut, and his face relaxes as the adrenaline of the day finally starts to seep out of his system. He nods his head along to the tunes blasting out of the jukebox in the corner. He was oblivious to the accusatory glare of his uncle. Dante crosses the kid off as the likely suspect of his annoyance. Nero looked about ready to pass out, each bobble of his head becoming more erratic and jerky as sleep started to take over. He clearly wasn’t hearing this.
So, he turns to the front of the van to check on the others. The ladies were chatting idly in the front. Nothing super exciting gossip wise. The three of them were tossing little jabs at each other. Well, Lady and Trish were, Nico was hiding a smirk behind a freshly lit cigarette as the two grew heated. The three of them called it “friendly bitching” but he still wasn’t all that sure. Whenever Lady or Trish used that tone with him he was about to either get robbed eight ways to Sunday by one of them or his ass kicked. The two human women seemed oblivious to the noise...perhaps Trish heard it? Hmmm-nah. Trish didn’t seem to notice the steady thumping that had now become a hyper fixation to him.
Huffing the hunter settles back down in the couch cushions of the couch to look out the window at the blur of the scenery passing by. The hum of the van’s engine and the low roar of the A/C were almost enough to drown out the noise filling his skull. He pops a finger in his ear digging out some wax. Did that smack across the head early knock something? Did a gun go off too close? Wait... shouldn’t he hear ringing if that was the case? Ye, the more he focused on it, it wasn’t inside his head. He checks out the window, his hand itching for a gun. Was a demon really that dumb to follow a van filled with demon hunters? He snorts at his question. Of course, they were. He was pretty sure they had finished the contract with a 100% kill count. Still, he checks out the window, just in case.
“I’m guessing you hear it too?” Vergil stirs from his meditative stupor, popping his neck with a satisfying grunt before turning his gaze to Dante. All of his younger brother’s squirming finally got too much for him to ignore. Vergil focused on his sibling, arms crossed over his freshly bandaged chest. “Really?” He looks down to his lap in disgust. Dante smirks, wiggling his muddy boots where they rested crossed on his thighs.
“What can I say? You’re ridiculously comfy.” Dante smirks. He knew his dick of a brother would threaten to stab him for dirtying his clothes, but he had a trump card, and he was going to use it. They both look down at your sleeping form sprawled on Dante’s chest and a part of Vergil's legs. You lay on him, curled up in a neat little ball on his chest. A dark spot grew beneath where your cheek was squished on his cotton shirt. Dante can’t help the smile that creeps across his face. He pulls his signature coat tighter around you and strokes your face with a only slightly grimy finger. Vergil sighs, settling back down, careful not to wake you either. He had a big ol’ sweet spot for you, and damn Dante couldn’t blame him.
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump
Dante hisses, pulling away from your peaceful expression, jealous for a brief moment that your weak human hearing couldn’t pick up on the invasive noise. “You sense where it’s coming from?” He rumbles low in his chest, careful not to disturb you. His brother sits silently for a moment wiping at his drowsy eyes. Dante watches his ear twitch minutely picking up on every sound in the immediate vicinity.
“No, I-” His head snaps back to Dante so fast he was surprised Vergil didn’t give himself whiplash. His silver eyes are wide with shock for a moment before softening to an expression Dante only saw when he would talk with Kyrie over dinner. It was warm, protective, and far too gentle a face for him to be pulled out for him. Dante looks back over his shoulder on instinct before it hits him, hard. Vergil wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at you. Oh shit, oh shit.
Dante focuses his senses on you before he had been merely using his broad range listening figuring it was an outside threat. He smells you first, your natural scent was a soft and sweet thing, like moss by a river bed, or freshly turned soil. It only got earthier after a day of hard work. The faint scent of gunpowder lingered on you too, and something else, something more hormonal and almost floral. Beneath your changing scent, he hears your heart thumping steadily in your chest. That was always a comforting sound to him, an anchor whenever he worried for your safety. But underneath it, he heard it. It was a rapid rhythm over yours, in you.
Dante jerks up, tumbling to the floor and cracking his head hard on the metal guards of the stairs. You would have toppled with him if Vergil hadn’t lunged to grab you. “What?” You look around confused but alert. The van is silent in the aftermath of the sudden burst of energy, all faces now turned to the three of you. Vergil holding you close to his chest while you focus on Dante. “You ok?” You look him over, noticing how pale he suddenly was as he looked at you. He was breathing heavily and panicked. His silver-grey eyes flitting between yours and up to Vergil’s.
“Ye,” He croaks, running a hand through his dirty hair not moving from his spot on the dirty floor. “Ye-shit, sorry just slipped in my sleep.”
“Quite a ‘slip’.” You wiggle out of Vergil’s hold and come to bend over Dante. You put the back of your hand to his forehead. You had all gotten pretty banged up this mission, and as usual, Dante had taken the brunt of it. He laughs a little too forcefully to be considered natural and pushes your hand away to get up.
“You know me. I’m full of surprises.” He flops back onto the couch looking at you oddly before opening his arms up to you. He fights against the tremble he feels spreading across his whole body.
You catch the sour look growing on Vergil’s face, it was boiling over to murderous. He shakes his head before sitting back in his spot and reaching for a magazine.
“Everything alright back there?” Nico shouts looking up into the rearview mirror.
“Yeh-yeh.” Dante waves not taking his eyes off you. “Just my old man senses getting to me.” The van collectively snorts at that, all turning back to what they were originally doing. Picking up his discarded coat you climb back into the cradle of your boyfriend's arms.
Boyfriend. You smile into his sweaty neck. It was a new term for both of you and your relationship. You two have been skirting around the idea of a committed relationship for months now. You’ve been with the gang for years now, flitting in and out of each other's life mission after mission as a freelance mercenary. Dante welcomed you into the fold of his merry band of misfits well enough, but you could see the line in the sand he drew pretty easily.
You respected it. Life in this business was hard and sometimes very short. He was slow to open up and trust, not with just you, but anyone. You got it, you understand his hesitation. Once you both established that the feelings you felt for each other went beyond good friends the lines and walls he built began to fade. The few months of you two trying out the word have been going well. Or, at least you thought so. Dante seemed pleased enough too. The few dates you two were able to scrap your collective pennies together for were a blast. Spontaneous coffee dates, walks down none demon-infested streets and parks. Once he even took a weekend off to go cross country with you. That weekend had been the most relaxed you had ever seen him, and as a bonus, the sex had been phenomenal too.
“You ok?” You kiss the stubble on his strong jaw, taking in the hard look in his eyes. His arms were rigid around you, protective yet also isolating. He looked shut-off, lost deep in his mind back in that place you knew he went whenever something was deeply troubling him. Dante said nothing for a moment, his large palm rubbing your lower back in stiff robotic movements. “Dante?”
He snaps out of it with a jerk. “Ye babe- just tired.” He kisses the worry from your brow and slips back into your original position, arms locking securely over your middle. He listens to your breathing and heart slow as you drift off, the little thumping underneath beating on.
From the moment Dante stepped out of the van he shut down. Not just from you, but everyone. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just instinct after years of protecting himself. He noticed it happening from afar like he was on the sidelines and completely unable to control what he was doing. He took job after job that Morrison threw at him, not waiting for backup or help. He began staying in his room, slinking upstairs instead of his usual hang out spot down in his office to be social. He just leaves everyone behind. He knows Lady and Trish will blow it off, they were used to the odd mood swing by now, chalking it up to mission fatigue. You knew better though, and he loved you for it. Even if it irritated him right now.
The first few days after that mission Dante saw you trying to pretend like you didn’t notice the walls he was rebuilding around himself. He wanted to believe that you couldn’t see how he turned up the jukebox every time you stepped into Devil May Cry, or that you pretend not to notice how his eyes would drift to look at anything but you when you stood in front of him. It hurt, it hurt to do this, but he couldn’t stop this self sabotage he was inflicting on himself and the stress he was pushing onto you. He just couldn’t take it.
He saw his mother every time he looked at you, could smell the ash and sulfur, could remember how his young lungs filled with smoke as he cried for something he could never get back while his childhood burned around him. He couldn’t do it, so he stopped seeing you. Not that it helped much. He heard the beating every time you came near trying to talk to him, so he stopped listening too. He didn’t know what else to do.
“If you put your hair back I swear I wouldn’t be able to tell you apart from your brother anymore, especially with that new attitude you're sporting.” Dante hears the slight edge in your voice. You sat in your now usual spot on the edge of his desk, before that day his lap would have been filled with your warm sweet body. You didn’t look happy in the least bit. You looked exhausted. He doesn’t look up from his magazine, a slow buzz of panic begins to fill his ears. Were you sick? Did you know?
He puts up another wall. “Doubt it,” He flips a page of his magazine reaching blindly for his beer. “I’m still the better looking one.” More silence. Dante feels your hard stare from where you sat.
“Need something?”
Your shoulders slump. “No-it’s nothing Dante.” He feels himself break just a little at the moisture threatening to spill from your lashes before they are blinked away. You leave without saying goodbye. He doesn’t see you again after that, your spot is soon replaced with piles of empty bottles.
“I expected better from you.”
Dante chokes on his beer, the foam shooting up into his nose and bringing tears to his eyes as it burns its way back to his throat. “Damn it, Vergil! Knock sometime?” His brother says nothing storming over to his desk and kicking a chair out to sit next to him. The look on his face was venomous. “Don’t give me that look.” Dante sighs, popping the cap off of another beer bottle.
“What look?”
Dante waves the butt of his bottle at him. “That! That look. It’s the one you always give me right before you stab me.”
Vergil chuckles humourlessly. “I just might if you continue to ignore your growing issue.” He pushes leaning into Dante’s space.
Dante bristles feeling like a trapped dog. “They should find out on their own-”
“Brother-”
Dante cuts him off with a swipe of his hand, amber liquid sloshing over his desk and lap. He feels his control slipping. The heat of his devil form simmering just below the surface. “I don’t want to talk about this.” I don’t want to acknowledge this.
“It’s been weeks.” Vergil presses on lean in close to his twin. “Will there ever be a right time?”
Dante bares his fangs in warning. His fingers itching to curl up and punch his brother. “That is rich coming from you. Remind me again, how many times have you tried to kill your son?” He meant for it to hurt, to let that barb sink in deep and fester. Vergil doesn’t even react, his gaze still cool and steady.
“I regret it-in parts. But I am not doing this for you.” Dante frowns. He had figured that. When Vergil arrived with Dante all those months ago torn up and bloodied from quite literally crawling out of Hell the welcome he got from the crew had been...lukewarm to put it mildly. They weren’t openly hostile, but it got pretty close sometimes. Only you and Nero had been pleasant to his brother right off the bat. The others came around eventually, but Vergil had taken a real shine to you. You were inquisitive and hungry to prove yourself, but smart enough to know when to back down. It’s what drew him to you, so it would make sense Vergil liked it too. “I cannot change my past actions, nor would I,” Dante scoffs. “But you have been given yet another opportunity that I envy.” He looks over his shoulder to the empty office. He couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t still envy his younger brother and his successes. To be free-to have had a life, dare he say to act almost human? Dante had always been the friendlier and kinder of the two, even as kids. He was sociable and street smart. Most importantly, people trusted him.
Then he found you, a most extraordinary mate. Vergil knew Dante would never admit it vocally but he shows his love with how he acts around you. Dante was always brash and foolhardy but he was milder with you. Whenever you were in the room his sole focus was always on you. His eyes, his body, every part of his being just seemed to gravitate to you. Whenever you paced, pissed from a recent job he would follow in his chair rolling left and right to keep his body in line with you. Even on the field, he stayed close, a towering figure of red and flames. To have him cast you out like this... Vergil shakes his head. “Why are you stalling?” He asks.
“They should find out on their own,” Dante repeats himself.
“And what if they decide not to tell you? What if they decide not to go through with it? You are limiting their time frame, Dante. You are putting them both in danger.” Vergil’s words strike deep. If he can’t get his brother to see reason now, then he will have to intervene. If Dante never forgave him for this transgression, then so be it.
The roar of primal rage was the only warning Vergil got before he was airborne. His back colliding hard against the old oak bookshelves across the room, Dante’s splintered desk pinning him for a moment before he is being dragged up the shelves by his neck. Empty bottles and old tomes clatter to the floor. He matches his brother’s energy shifting in a blaze of blue fury until he faces his red counterpart. “You lash out, why? Because you know I’m right?” He hisses around bared razor sharp fangs. “Do you hope they will leave you?” Something passes through Dante’s scleraless eyes. “It won’t be like before, brother.”
The whine Dante emits sounds like a wounded animal. It was high and reedy, it was filled with turmoil. Vergil couldn’t stop the sharp bark of laughter that fell from his lips. Unbelievable. “Dante.” Vergil grabs one of the claws locked around his throat. “For all your foolish and idiotic behavior you have built yourself a family. Do you honestly think any of them would let something happen? Do you think I would let something happen?” The fist around his neck loosens and drops.
“I want them to live a normal life.” Dante steps away, his voice uncertain. “Look at us- at Nero and Kyrie. Being what we are, we have royally screwed them over.” He stares down at his rough armored hands. His elytra pulses red veins with demonic energy. “And a damn kid? Nero got by alright, but narrowly. Do I look like someone that can handle this?”
“No.” Vergil can’t lie, it would only hurt you in the end. “Not at first. While I have no right to talk about being a father, I know you can do it far better than I.” He smiles to himself. “‘sides, at least your better half has a head on their shoulders.”
“Gee, thanks.” Dante grunts retreating to where his desk used to be. He breathed deeply and shifted back to his human form. Damn it, he had just paid off the repairs from the last time he wrecked the place. Bending over to pick up his magazine, the two were interrupted by his door bursting open. Nero and Lady bursting through bickering heatedly at each other before they notice the mess.
“Did we interrupt something?” Nero steps open the splinters of Dante’s old desk taking in his half triggered father.
“No.” The brothers say in unison.
“Good-” Lady pushes forwards, tossing a missive to Dante. He catches it with deft fingers and rips it open. “Normally I would have taken this on myself with the kid-since you’ve been sulking.” She shoots him a scathing look. “But we need all boots on the ground. Trish and your flickering flame are already there, but this portal just isn’t budging.”
“What!” Vergil snaps. Dante stares blankly at the letter, a high pitch whining growing in his ears. It was getting hard to breathe. “You left them there? They are vulnerable.” The blue devil grabs the letter from his brother looking at the address briefly before grabbing Yamato before rushing for the door.
Nero shouts after his father in confusion, his outburst uncharacteristic for him. “The hell was that about?” Nero watches the skies as the blue figure disappears. “They are perfectly capable of handling themselves…”
“Get in the van. I’ll see you there.” Dante grits out, crumbling the paper up and tossing it aside. He flys out moments later, guns and swords are forgotten. Anything that touches you would be getting ripped to shreds with his bare hands. He travels in a blur of panic fighting the sense of guilt threatening to overcome him. How could he be so stupid? Just because you weren’t at the office didn’t mean that you weren’t still taking jobs. He always worried when you went out solo- or without him, but he was confident in your abilities. A few scrapes and bruises weren’t anything to stress over. It wasn’t something to stress about before. You were still on the field and it was his damn fault.
The sound of gunfire and the roars of dying demons draws him in. Dante’s sharp eyes find you immediately. You were holding your own. You back in a corner but your guns were hot, dropping demon after demon with near flawless aim. Instinctively his demon side rumbles in pride before he squashes the feeling. Now wasn’t the time. Vergil beat him there by minutes but was already covered in gore as he assists you from above, slicing through the almost endless wave of beasts. Dante lands near you grabbing a Fury in midjump throwing it away to splatter against a building yards away. “About time you showed up!” Trish shouted from her perch lightning crackling around her. He ignores her, instead he launches himself at the gaping maw of the portal. He fights with reckless abandon, each wound and injury fueling his fire. One more hit on him just meant one less directed at you.
The fighting didn’t last long after Nero and Lady arrived adding enough fire support that he was able to destroy the portal and clean up the remaining hellspawn. The moment it was Dante was on you. “The hell were you thinking!” He rounds on you his massive body crowding your space.
You hold your ground staring up at him. “Hey, so glad to finally hear from you.” You crane your neck up to meet his glowing eyes. “I love it when my boyfriend finally remembers I exist.”
“You could have gotten hurt!” He glosses over your snark and checks you out. You were fine, good.
You back away from him throwing your hands up in confusion. “Yes? That’s kind of par for the course isn’t it?” You were baffled by his behavior. Weeks. Weeks! Weeks of ignoring your calls, and a conveniently empty office every time you tried to drop by, and now that you have his attention the first thing he does is yell at you? Where did he get off? In fact, his shit attitude only angered you more. “Ya know what? I don’t want to hear it.” You turn your head to where Nico sat leaning out of her driver-side window. She waves at you. “Can you give me a lift back to my place? I got to grab some fresh clips before heading back out.”
A red hand blocks your exit. “No-” Dante grabs your forearm gently tugging you to look at him. His natural heat was a comfort you didn’t realize you missed so much. “Babe-let me handle it.”
“Dante,” You try to pull away. “It’s my job. What has gotten into you?”
He looks over to his brother, the conflict he had been trying to avoid closing in too fast for him.
Vergil holds his stare and shrugs. “Come-the two need to talk, let’s head back for now.” Asshole. The rest of the group follows his eldest brother casting curious glances over their shoulders as they pile into the van. He really wasn’t ready for this.
The two of you watch them go in silence. “Let me take you back? Please?” Dante let’s go of your arm. You nod, it’s not like you have any choice now. Well, you could walk, your body screams at the thought of moving any more than necessary. You’ve been getting exhausted faster and faster these days. Perhaps the stress of the job was getting to you. He scoops you up in his giant arms stretching his wings out to their full and impressive length before taking to the sky. He glides through the city taking extra care to make it as smooth as possible for you. His landing was as silent on the empty streets surrounding your apartment building.
The mid-afternoon sun was high overhead, the perpetual fog of the city finally breaking enough to let in the heat of the day. You slide from his arms and lead him up the steps to your door. Swinging the door wide you look up at him. “Do you mind?”
“What?”
You point to his devil form. “Shrinking? I don’t think you can fit.”
Oh right. He chuckles nervously. “Ain’t nothing a bit of lube and patience can’t fix right?” You don’t laugh, your lips pull taught. He coughs shifting in a flash of heat. Once he’s human he squeezes through the narrow door frame and just stares at you. Dante shuffles from side to side. Great. Now what?
You rub at your neck weary you could feel another knot growing. Weeks ago you had a whole speech laid out for when you got him through your door. You wanted to chew him out, to yell at him for cutting you out so unceremoniously. Shout that if he was going to break up with you at least do it cleanly, not this emotional roller coaster. A sense of anger fills you. Damn it, was this really it? It wasn’t like this was the first time a partner has done this. You just had hoped that Dante would be different. He had always been so dependable. “Just make it quick, Dante.” You didn’t have the steam for this right now. You felt nauseous and a pulsing head coming on. Ugh, and you still have that job waiting for you.
Dante’s silver brows scrunch up. “Make what quick?”
You wave at the distance between the two of you. “This. This breakup. Do it fast so it’ll give me the adrenaline to get through my next job so I can pass out tonight and get some sleep.”
Any other day Dante’s look of sheer shock would have been hilarious- today just wasn’t one of those days. “You think? Heh-shit yes, I can see why...” He rakes a hand through his disheveled hair. “It’s not like that, I- I was running from my problems again.”
Your hackles raise in anger. “I’m a problem now?”
“What! No, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” He points to himself. “I’m the problem. I ruin everything I touch!” His hurt cuts through your aggression.
“Dante-” You have had this discussion before. “You know I don’t think that.”
“You should.” He cuts you off, his expression imploring. “I messed up-I messed up big time with you. I should have said something the moment I knew but I just locked up and ran, like always.”
Knew? Knew what? “Dante, I don’t understand.”
“I-you...how are you feeling of late? I don’t know anything about this stuff, different?” His eyes swipe over your dusty battle garb. You feel his eyes stop at your navel holding there too long to be considered a coincidence before dropping to your feet.
“I’m sorry.” His breath hitches, getting dangerously close to a feeling he had been bottling up for too long. You are quiet, doing the math in your head. He hears your heartbeat pick up, your breathing becoming fast and shallow.
“Get out.”
His heart sinks. What did he expect? Closing the distance between you he reaches for you, his hand hovering by your face waiting to see if you will let him touch you. You don’t move, don’t even look up at him when his hands cup your face. So he moves crouching down to get a look at you. Your gaze is blank but resolute.
“I’m sorry.” He tries again. You ignore him far too engrossed in your revelation. Idly you trace a palm down to your stomach before flinching away is burned. “I’ll-I’ll be around…” He trails off all steam lost. At a loss he does the only thing he can think to do and flees, disappearing back into the streets outside your home like the coward he was.
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