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blu-joons · 3 years

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When They Find That You’ve Fainted ~ NCT 127 Reaction

Taeil:

After you promised for the thousandth time that you’d be alright in his studio whilst Taeil went off to a meeting, he finally made his way to meet with the staff, trusting that you’d been alright. However, midway through his meeting, the sight of Yuta barging through the door instantly caused Taeil to jump. “You need to come!”

“Why? What’s happened?” Taeil yelled, chasing after Yuta who refused to speak, saving his energy to make sure that Taeil could get to your studio as quickly as possible. His heart stopped when he walked through the door and saw you laid out.

Yuta took a step back as Taeil knelt down beside you, resting his hand over yours. His eyes closed as he tried to warm your hand up, whispering down to you to open your eyes, staying by your side until eventually you did just that.

“What’s going on?” You questioned, noticing Taeil leaning above you straight away, “aren’t you supposed to be in your meeting by now?”

“Do you not realise what’s just happened?” He asked, rolling his eyes as your head shook back at him. “Y/N, you fainted, I had to leave the meeting and come and see you. Anything could have happened, are you alright?”

You nodded back at him, “don’t worry about me, you should probably get back to your meeting before you get in trouble.”

“The meeting doesn’t matter, making sure you’re alright is what’s important.”

Taeyong:

His body felt numb as Taeyong watched you fall in front of him as the two of you began to prepare for your evening together. He placed the plates he held onto the table as quickly as he could before kneeling down to your side. His hand brushed over your face as he tried to figure out what was going on to cause you to faint.

“What’s happened,” he whimpered, laying your body out into a position that he hoped would be more comfortable for you. Taeyong had picked up on your body failing you a few times, but never did he imagine that it would amount to this.

The guilt struck him hard as he stayed by your side, waiting for you to stir. After a few minutes, tiny groans came from you as a result of the throbbing pain in the back of your head and the aches that ran down your body.

“It hurts,” you whispered as your eyes locked with Taeyong’s. His hands moved around your waist to move you to rest into his lap.

“What’s been going on?” He asked, running a hand through your hair, “I knew that you’d been struggling, but I never realised that things could have ever got as bad as they have done for you Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

Your head shook back at him, “you have no reason to be sorry, I guess I should have been taking better care of myself.”

“I’m going to take care of you now and make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

Johnny:

As soon as he came home, he was met with yells of his name and scolding after scolding for having his phone turned off throughout the day. Haechan and Taeyong took both of his hands and pulled him through into his dorm where your body was laid out on his bed. “We found her on the floor, we tried to call you.”

“She fainted?” Johnny questioned, almost as if the situation that was unfolding in front of him wasn’t real. He took an anxious step closer to your body, barely able to look at you. “I’ll take care of it from here, thank you guys.”

The boys all filed out of the room, closing the door behind themselves whilst Johnny made his way over to the bed and sat beside it. He sat and waited impatiently until he spotted a wiggle in your finger that started your movement.

“J-johnny?” You questioned, feeling a warm hand rest over the one that you were trying to move as your eyes slowly opened to see him.

“I’m here,” he assured you, trying to give you as much space as he could. “Just take things slow,” he added once he noticed you trying to move your body. “You’ve fainted Y/N, just give yourself a moment to settle.”

Your head nodded back at him, “I didn’t realise that I fainted,” you whispered, “you must think I’m a right idiot at the moment.”

“Not at all, these things happen. Just take a moment, you’ll be alright.”

Yuta:

A strange pair of arms caught your body as you tumbled at the side of the stage of the performance, with several members of staff trying to shield the sight from the boys. The quick eyes of Taeil however had clocked the commotion immediately, racing over to get Yuta and push him in the direction of the exit.

“Why?” He questioned, but Taeil didn’t reply, instead he turned him around to see you laid out on the cold floor with the staff all around you. Yuta turned to head back on stage, conflicted, but Taeil told him to go, and not look back.

The staff all took a step back as Yuta appeared, taking a seat beside you. He threw his microphone to one side, replacing it with the feel of your hand in his as he sat and waited until your eyes opened to relax himself.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you whispered as soon as you noticed that Yuta was beside you, “you’re supposed to be on stage.”

“The stage doesn’t matter,” he chuckled, brushing the hair out of your face, “the fans can survive without me on the stage, but you’re the one that needs me right now. You’ve just fainted after all Y/N, you need me.”

You closed your eyes shamefully, “I’ve ruined your performance, Yuta, I’m so sorry. You probably hate me right now.”

“I don’t, I love you, I just wish that this didn’t have to happen.”

Doyoung:

Everything he found from the internet that was suggested to help someone who had fainted was by your side as Dongyoung sat down and played the waiting game. It was torture for him, he had no idea how long he had to wait for you to wake up and was clueless as to how you’d be when you woke up too.

“Come on,” he whispered, sitting back down once everything was set for when you’d wake. Whilst he knew your body would stir when it was ready, it didn’t change the pain that Dongyoung felt having to wait for you.

After what felt like an eternity, sitting around and waiting for you to wake and move, Dongyoung let go of a sigh of relief when your eyes opened and looked around at all the items that were around your body.

“What’s all this?” You questioned, trying to take it all in, “why have you got all of this about, I’m not hurt or anything.”

“Y/N, you fainted,” he frowned, shaking his head down at you. “I’ve been sat here worried sick for ages. I searched up all of the things that I could to help you when you woke. Do you want a drink, it’s supposed to help?”

You held your hand up as Dongyoung tried to pass you the glass, “I know you’re worried, but just give me a minute, please.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry, I need to stop worrying so much, you’re right.”

Jaehyun:

There was an uncomfortable silence in the apartment as Yoonoh walked through the door, noticing that the television was on standby. His eyebrows knitted together as he walked further into the room to try and find you, feeling his stomach drop when he walked down and saw you laid out across the middle of the room.

“Y/N Jagi!” He yelled, leaping over the sofa and down to your side. He reached from the sofa to pull down one of the blankets and drape it delicately over your body to try and help you in any way that he could.

He didn’t move at all, with his eyes firmly watching you as he waited for any sign from you. With steady breaths, he waited as patiently as he could for the first sign from you, as your eyes slowly opened and looked around.

“Why am I on the floor?” You asked once you were able to speak, noticing Yoonoh at your side. “Why’s there a blanket on me too?”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead, “I came home, and you’d passed out Y/N, that’s what happened. Are you alright? Do you need anything? Water? Food? Do you want me to turn the light off?”

“I don’t want anything,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip, “I think I just need a minute to process what’s just happened.”

“That’s alright, take all the time you need, we’re not in any rush at all.”

Jungwoo:

The light on in the living room caught his attention as soon as he walked through the front door. Jungwoo called out your name, excited to finally see you, however as he was met with silence, he felt his heart sunk. Jungwoo followed the trail of light, however as he did, he was sure hoping that he decided not to.

“Please,” was the only word he could mumble as he noticed you laid out on the ground with your phone and water bottle beside you, having fallen from your hands. Jungwoo moved them out of the way, replacing them with himself.

His eyes shut for most of the time whilst Jungwoo waited for you to wake up, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you until he felt the squeeze of your hand against his, opening up his eyes to see you looking back at him.

“Are you tired?” You asked as if the last few minutes hadn’t occurred. “I’ve been awake for ages, and you were fast asleep.”

A gentle chuckle of relief came from him, “I just couldn’t look at you in the way that you were, if I closed my eyes, I hoped that none of this would be real. But how are you feeling, do you want me to get you anything.”

Your head shook back at him, “I was on my way to get lunch when I fell, but I think I’ve lost my appetite a bit now.”

“You still have to look after yourself, I’ll sort you something out Y/N.”

Mark:

The moment he got the text from Taeil to let him know what had happened, Mark raced back to the dorm as quickly as he could. His heart settled slightly when he arrived to see that the boys had helped you as best as they could, with a pillow under your head and a blanket draped across your body to keep you warm.

“I should have been here,” he sighed, taking a seat by the top of your head as he finally looked at your blank expression. “She told me she felt unwell earlier, and I just ignored her as if it was no big deal, and now look at her.”

With the comfort of his members, Mark anxiously sat and waited for the first sign of life from you. He’d never been more relieved than he was when he noticed your hand move and your left eye slowly open up.

“When did you get home?” You asked as you spotted Mark sitting above you. “What’s happened? Have you been crying?”

“No,” he lied, wiping quickly underneath his eyes, “but I got home because I was told that you were passed out in the middle of the dorm. I tried to get here as soon as I could, I’m sorry that I didn’t get here sooner.”

You smiled weakly up at him, “there’s no need to apologise, thank you, all of you, for taking such good care of me.”

“Yeah, thank you guys, you’re all amazing for what you’ve done.”

Haechan:

The whole room fell silent at the sound of Donghyuck’s calls. Each of the members ran through to his room, freezing when they saw Donghyuck sat beside your body that laid out on the cold floor of his bedroom. His eyes were filled with fear, desperate to try and search for the answers as to what he could do.

“I don’t know what to do,” he whimpered as Johnny was the first to step into the room. “I’ve never had anyone faint around me before,” he frowned, taking a step back as his elder members began to sort things out.

With his members taking a step back, Donghyuck stayed as close to your side as he could until he saw your eyes open, not only looking at him, but the eight other pairs of eyes that were also watching with great concern.

“It’s cold down here,” you noted as you began to come around to your senses, “why are you all looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“You fainted; do you not remember?” Donghyuck asked you, flinching as your head shook back at him. “I came back from the toilet and you were out cold on the floor Y/N, can you really not remember any of that happening.”

You sighed across at him, “I wish I could, but right now I’m just as confused as you are as to why I’ve ended up on the floor.”

“Come on, let’s get you onto the bed before you catch a cold down there.”

---

Masterlist

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xhanisai · 3 years

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Confront the boundary line of good and evil in my heart

AO3 / FFN

Summary:

It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!'

~(x)~ . . . Tick. Tock. "I'm so sorry Chat Noir! I didn't mean to- I just- I just completely broke down and she was right there and I needed someone-" "It's okay, Bug. I understand, don't apologise," Tick. Tock. "It's not okay at all! You've wanted to know for so long, so patiently and I have always said no- and then look at me now! A hypocrite! This is probably a huge sucker-punch for you and I hate that I've always kept on hurting you back then but now, this takes the cake-" "N-No, I'm fine, honest...really. What matters is your happiness and wellbeing-" "But what about you!?" "..." Tick- "...Kid, talk to me, please. The way you're staring out into space is scaring me." The subdued, raspy voice belonging to the ancient being of destruction went unheard. The boy in question continued to observe the empty space in front, sitting on top of his bed with his knees tucked under his chin and his arms folded in front, hiding the lower half of his face. If one were to enter the room, they would instantly freeze from the glower of the boy's fiery emerald greens that were begging to pool with unshed tears and the aura of his stone-cold demeanour. From the waft of his internal turmoil, even a blind person would be able to pick up that he was currently the host of bad luck. "...Adrien...I want to help, I want to understand, so talk to me!" Once again, Plagg was left ignored, leaving him no choice but to float back down to his pillow and direct his pleading kitten eyes at the blonde, his tiny heart shattered from the state of his chosen. Alas, even he was helpless, his feline ears and whiskers drooping with sorrow. 'But you won't understand. You never did and you never will. No one will ever understand.' Adrien didn't even flinch, didn't even bat an eye. He was a statue of apathy and aloofness; though deep down inside, he was a maelstrom of agonising pain. Oh, so much pain. It was excruciating. He wanted to suit up and claw through the rooves of Paris whilst screaming in anguish. He wanted to find every billboard that had his face on it and tear through it all like paper. He wanted to shred and pulverise his useless, traitorous heart along with its despicable feelings and emotions. But most importantly, he wanted to rip the magical ring off his finger and throw it into La Seine with all his might and then cry for the rest of eternity. And he hates that he feels that way. Absolutely, ridiculously, hates that he feels betrayed. Self-loathing and disgust have taken over his body like a puppet and rendered him completely useless, like a toy forgotten at the bottom of the box, never to see the light of day ever again. The feeling of uselessness and pure shame replaced the blood running through his veins and numbed him to the point where he was equivalent to a powerless machine. He felt his throbbing heart fall deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach. It wasn't her fault! No way whatsoever! But still... Still... 'It really does hurt so bad...so much, I can't take it!' The younger, softer, naive part of himself which was usually tucked away within the dark, hidden crevices of his heart, screamed as if the rest of humanity's lives depended on it. It was taking Adrien everything to keep him out. 'Is it too much to ask for only one constant in my life? Is it too much to ask for one thing to remain the same? Is it too much for anyone to stop keeping me at arm's length!?' . It is. . It is. . Deep down inside, below the platinum chains and iron bars of solid, concrete denial, he always knew that Ladybug never considered him as close as he did with her. And why should she? Just because he performed an act of common, proper human decency and helped an old man get his walking stick back? Just because he was gifted with the power to destroy anything he touches in order to save the day? Just because he knew how to fight possessed villains alongside her? Just because he's in love with her? . "I'm literally the worst." Adrien finally spoke out loud ever since he returned from...that patrol many hours ago. Despite his words, his soul couldn't help but weep and pray that it was all one huge, cruel nightmare. A twisted, sick joke that whatever deities out there have concocted up just for him. Anything! Yet, this was his reality. "I disagree." The boy snapped his gaze towards the kwami, his brows furrowing for elaboration on the little God's part. "I may not be human but I do have feelings and I can empathise. I've existed from the beginning of time and I've witnessed many, many things in my lifetime." Plagg then floated towards him, settling on Adrien's arm so that he was face to face. "You're not in the wrong here, kid. It's okay to feel like this-" "No, it's not!" Adrien's sudden outburst had the kwami shoot away in surprise, the boy instantly turning baffled at his own harsh reaction and then visibly paling even further. He caught sight of his own reflection on a nearby mirror, cringing at the monstrous mess that looked back. With a frustrated sigh, he leapt off the bed, solemnly treading towards his windows, fingers digging into his upper arms as if he was hugging himself. . The luminous moon that shone through the night sky, what was once a beacon of freedom in the past, never looked so unappealing to the distraught hero. His usually glittering eyes were vacant, devoid of any joy and hope whilst his lips were etched in a permanent frown. How many fake smiles and empty words of wisdom did he force out in front of his Lady earlier on? He's lost count. And how many more times will he have to keep doing that, knowing that there will always be another person out that there that Ladybug trusts more than she'll ever trust him? . "I stand by with what I said," Plagg quipped once more, his host quietly surprised with how the little God managed to get so close without him realising. "The two of you have been thrust into a messy situation with very little guidance and a whole bunch of rules which only complicated it further." He then directed his eyes from the moon to the boy. "Yes, I agree that Ladybug's decision in confiding with someone about her identity was a good idea, but as a result of that, it's brought you so much pain. You are not the worst and it's okay to cry it out. It's okay to tell her how you really feel." He placed one of his tiny hands on Adrien's cheek, ears and whiskers still weighed with melancholy as the boy allowed his eyes to prick with tears. One drop. Two drops. Three drops. Four. "It shouldn't hurt- I...I shouldn't be so selfish! Even if she never told me, I was able to tell that she wasn't able to handle her civilian life any longer, especially after becoming the Guardian- I'm supposed to protect her and be by her side! Not throw a tantrum like a three-year-old just because I'm not the one she decided to tell about her secret identity! And then adding my own stupid feelings and insecurities to her plate? I'll be a burden!" The dam was broken and the overwhelming feelings within Adrien cascaded like a tsunami. "You have plenty on your plate as well-" "But I'm used to it, she isn't. I was born and raised to deal with these kinds of things anyway so it's a no brainer for me to shut up and accept it all with a smile-" He paused abruptly, a wet gasp escaping his throat as he leaned against the glass for support when even more realisation sunk in. 'I have been dealing with so many responsibilities ever since I was born...and that puts us on the same boat...so why couldn't she have confided with me then?' Adrien dropped to his knees, fingernails scraping against his scalp as he tried to fight back against those negative thoughts and questions. 'Why am I never good enough? Not for Maman, not for Père and now...not for Ladybug...?' 'Why am I even here then?'

"Adrien...you don't need to put a mask on when you're with me. Cry it all out. I'm not gonna sit by and watch you destroy yourself from inside out because of your inability to address your true feelings. I'm right here, I'll even destroy all the wretched butterflies that dare to come by- so please, let it all out," "I can't! If I do, I'll never be able to go back and nothing will be the same again-" "And if you don't, then things will change for the worse and trust me, kid, that is the last thing you need." Finally, Plagg's words unravelled the obstacles that slowed down the flood and Adrien couldn't help but give in. His body shook and a whole new fresh wave of tears pooled down his eyes, teeth biting down on his lip to prevent the sobs from bursting out. . "...It hurts Plagg...it hurts so much! I love her...and I trust her so much but it hurts! I know she trusts me on a level and I know that multiple times she's mentioned that I'm irreplaceable but dammit! Why does it all feel like a lie!? She did the right thing in telling her civilian best friend, she finally has someone to look after herself- but why does it feel so wrong? Why is my heart in so much pain? Why can't I stop crying? If Ladybug won't lean on me, then what am I here for? And if I can't lean on Ladybug...who...who do I have?" . "...I may not be much and I may talk about nothing but cheese...but you'll always have me, kid," "I want to believe you, I want to so badly, Plagg...but I can't. I feel so alone...I've always been alone... ...And I'll always be alone..." . . . A couple of hours ago, just shy under midnight on a lone, hidden rooftop, if a curious civilian looked up, they would have seen Ladybug and Chat Noir locked in an embrace. However, what they would have noticed first was the absolutely broken, heartwrenching expression Noir wore... ...As if his entire world has fallen apart... . . . ~(x)~ A/N: Just wondering if I should make a sequel and give these two poor cats a happy ending~

#my writing #my fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #ml fanfic #ml spoilers #takes place after gang of secrets #basically a possibility of what could happen when chat finds out that ladybug told her identity to someone else #super angsty #adrien agreste #chat noir #plagg #ladybug

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honeyhan-123 · 3 years

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The Monster In Plain Sight ~ III

Series Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Chapter Summary: Steve peels back his mask.

Warnings:Dark!Steve, non-con, allusions to past victims, Steve is a serial rapist in this, trapping the reader. I’m sorry if theres more but I’m half dead right now so just let me know and I’ll fix it.

Word Count: 3.2k

AN: This is my contribution to trying to make 2021 better than the shit show that was 2020. I really hope y’all like it!

Also, I’m thinking that maybe this is the last part? Let me know if you want more but I’m not too sure.

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

The ‘safe house’ that Steve had chosen was really just his own little cabin in the woods. Of course it wasn’t just like any regular cabin, there were safety measures in place. Like the fact that it was at least five miles away from the nearest residence, or the fact that to get in or out of the building his thumbprint was needed. But you didn’t need to know any of that.

It was a three hour drive and Steve couldn’t help but peak over at you out of the corner of his eyes for the entire duration. You wore jeans and a sweater that Steve longed to rip from your body. Once he had you safely tucked away in his cabin he’d make sure you could never hide your body again.

The thoughts alone of what he had planned made him shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying to readjust himself in his pants. Oh how he longed to just pull over to the side of the road and slide into his new home between your legs. It physically pained him but he still had at least an hour drive to go and he didn’t want to risk you drawing any attention during that time.

It took longer than Steve wanted to reach his cabin but at long last he finally turned onto the dirt road that made up the last two or so miles to the house. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as you stared out at the dense forest, a hint of nervousness starting to screen in. In a sick way Steve was glad that you were finally starting to realise how vulnerable you were now.

It had been almost too easy for Steve to convince you to trust him and he couldn’t wait to shatter that trust. To show you the monster that had been lurking in plain sight.

When he finally eased the car to a complete stop, he allowed himself one last glance back at you. It wouldn’t be the last time he would be seeing you but it would be the last time you would look at him with that level of trust in your eyes. At least, for a while.

Steve had no doubt that if he kept you here for long enough, you would eventually cave to him. Although, none of the others had lasted long enough for that…

It was rare for anyone to catch his eye for long enough for Steve to bring them here. And the few that had, quickly learnt that Steve was not the epitome of patience that the media often portrayed him as.

Steve shrugged those memories away. They were the past and he was here with you now. He was certain you wouldn’t disappoint him like the others had. You wouldn’t end up like they had.

He gave you one last smile before opening his door. The cool autumn air hinted at the fast approaching winter and he saw you shiver as he carried your bags up to the front door.

‘This is home sweet home. There are various safety measures around the place but you don’t really need to worry about all that. All I want you to concern yourself with is settling in. I want you to like it here as much as I do. After all, it is your new home.’ His words sent a wave of confusion through you.

‘For the next few weeks at least.’ You corrected him with a smile as you gazed around the mud room, completely missing the flash of anger that momentarily took a hold of Steve's features.

‘Right. Well, it could take some time to catch whoever fucked you.’ You gasped at his vulgar language, turning to face him.

‘That’s not the word I would have used.’

Steve merely shrugged away your chastisement and gestured to the hallway. ‘Let me show you to the bedroom. You followed as he led the way past the dining room and then the kitchen. Just by the door to the kitchen you saw another, one that held a flight of dark stairs, presumably to a basement of sorts. You were glad to not be sleeping down there.

When Steve nudged the bedroom door open you were surprised by how lived in the room looked. You would have thought a safe house would have a sort of desolate feel to it, but not this one. It almost had a sort of homey feel to it.

You expected Steve to just dump your bags down on the bed and then disappear off to wherever he would be sleeping but instead, he closed the door behind him and you heard a faint click of a lock. You whipped around to face him, about to ask why he’d locked the door but the words died in your throat as you caught sight of his darkened eyes.

‘Steve…’ Your voice was timid, taken aback by the abrupt change in him and all too aware of just how alone you were now. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What I’ve been waiting to do for months.’ His voice was deeper than usual and your throat felt tight as he shrugged out of his jacket. It was only when he turned to hang it up in the closet did you realise why the cabin had such a homey feel to it. It had that feeling because it was a home. His home.

‘I- I don’t understand. What do you mean “what you’ve wanted to do for months?”’

‘I mean I’ve been watching you. Waiting for this moment. Patiently biding my time until I had you completely at my mercy.’ He started closing the distance between your bodies and with every step he took, you took one backwards. ‘You know, it’s kind of funny. I knew from the first moment I saw you that I would have you, but I didn’t realise until last night that I wouldn’t be satisfied with just a one off occurrence. You’re better than that, you deserve more.’

The back of your legs hit the foot of the bed and you stumbled back onto it, trying to crawl away as the realisation sunk into you. ‘Last night? That - that was you?’ Your voice was merely a whisper but in the silence of the cabin there was no doubt he heard you.

‘Of course it was me. Why else do you think I made sure I was the first one to find you this morning? Getting you here would’ve been a little harder if you had gotten the authorities involved.’

‘You had no intention of ever helping me. Then why…’

‘Make you get the sperm for a DNA test?’ He finished your question for you, a twisted smirk on his lips. ‘That, I admit, was purely for my own entertainment. Plus I wanted to see your perfect little cunt again.’

‘So what? You just took me here for… for what?’ Panic was truly starting to set in as he revealed what a monster he really was.

‘Isn’t it obvious? I want you. I wasn’t content with just one night. I want more. So I brought you here, miles away from the nearest residential area. You can scream as loud as you like but no one will ever hear you. You can try to escape me but I will catch up before you even make it off the property. You’re mine to do with a I please now.’

His words sent a shiver down your spine and you didn’t doubt that he meant every single one of them, yet there was a part of you that refused to give up hope. This had to all be a dream. Some sick, twisted nightmare.

You hadn't seen him move but suddenly you were pushed onto your back and his arms were on either side of you, caging you in. ‘So go ahead.’ His lips brushed your own as he breathed the words. ‘Do it. Scream for me.’

His words were your only warning before his hands met the straps of your tank top and abruptly tore it away from your body. Your arms came up, trying to shield yourself from him but he swiftly gathered your wrists in his hand and pinned them above your head.

You thrashed your hips wildly, trying to buck him off of you to no avail. Instead, he slipped his spare forefinger down along your sternum and hooked it underneath your bra. With one last devious smirk down at you, he pulled it away.

It hurt as it tore around your chest, leaving you completely bare to him. ‘That’s much better isn’t it?’ His eyes danced along your breasts as he spoke, completely enraptured by them for the time being.

You thrashed even more wildly, your desperation kicking up a notch as his hand slipped along your stomach and down to the waistband of your pants. He deftly undid the button to your jeans and then the fly. He used your own movement to aid him in pulling the denim and your modest panties down and away from your legs.

You breathed in his own breath as his fingers forced their way between your thighs. ‘Well… Look at this.’ He pulled his hand back so you could see the glistening fingers. ‘I knew you were different. You want it. You want me.’ You tried to speak, to deny his claims but he interrupted before you even had the chance. ‘Don’t bother with whatever falsity you’re trying to say. Those gorgeous lips can lie to me but your body can’t.’ With that he shoved his hand back between your thighs and started playing with the slick he had found there.

You wanted to hate it, and you did to an extent. Yet, there was a small part of you that couldn’t ignore the growing fire that his fingers had ignited. ‘Stop it please. Steve. Stop.’ Your commands were pitiful even to your own ears.

‘You and I both know you don’t mean that Baby.’ You shuddered at the pet name yet your denial was caught in your throat as his fingers found your clit. An involuntary gasp fell from your lips and it was all the invitation that Steve needed to lean down and slide his tongue into your open mouth.

You recoiled at the unfamiliar feeling but no matter how hard though tried to shove him off, he was too strong. He remained stuck, on top of you, the only barrier was his arm leading down to your cunt where he continued to draw out moan after moan from your lips.

‘That’s it Baby. Just give in to me. Isn’t it so much easier? To just give in to what your body so desperately needs?’ His words were mumbled against your lips and you tried to speak out, only for another moan to betray your mind.

His hand had shifted slightly, and suddenly there was a finger poking at your entrance as his palm continued to brush against your bundle of nerves. You were unable to do anything but lie there and take it as his finger easily slid into your channel.

No sooner than he had one finger inside you did he add a second and then a third. ‘God, you’re so fuckin’ wet. So tight. I can’t wait to see you take my cock again.’ His words should have repulsed you but instead they furthered your own excitement. Your thighs clenching desperately around his hand. ‘Oh you like that do you? Me talking dirty? Reminding you that your best feature will always be right here?’ His hand drew back and lightly slapped your swollen lips. ‘This hole. This cunt. It’s fucking marvellous.’ Your eyes squeezed shut on their own accord as his fingers brushed against that spot inside you.

You were repulsed by your body's reaction. The coil inside your gut grew tighter and tighter with every ministration of his. You longed for him to get off of you yet you also longed for him. Your body and mind were at war with one another but not for long. Your body claimed a swift victory.as your orgasm approached and continued to wash over you, from the tips of your toes to your muddled mind.

Wave after wave of pleasure consumed you, making its way over your body as your walls pulsed around his fingers.

‘That’s a good girl. Just give in. I can give you this and so much more.’ You were in such a daze as he spoke that you didn’t even realise his body briefly leaving yours as he hastily shoved his hands down his thighs and his shirt falling to the floor nearby. Just as quickly as his body had left yours, it returned.

He apparently didn’t think you needed restraining anymore and you hated how his assumption was correct. You were in no state to fight back anymore and you questioned if you even wanted to. You felt his hand lightly brush against your sensitive lips before there was a poking sensation. You gasped as he pushed his way into you. Your groin was already sore from the night before and now you truly knew why. You didn’t have to be able to fully see him to know Steve was just as big down there as he was everywhere else.

It felt as though he were splitting you open and you tried to shove him off once more, unable to bear with the pain. Your attempts were futile as your hands were merely met with a wall of smooth muscle. ‘I know baby. I know it hurts but - fuck. I’ll make it feel better. I’ll make it all feel better.’ You took little reassurance from his words as he began thrusting, slowly pulling out inch by inch before forcing his way back in.

His slow pace was torturous. Despite the pain, your body wanted more and it wanted it now. On their own accord, hips slightly lifted up to meet his, trying to invite him further in and Steve needed no further prompting. His pace shifted drastically, his hips now pummelling into yours over and over again. ‘I knew you wanted it. I knew you wanted me. You put up a good fight but now that you have a cock. In you, you’re just a mindless little fuck doll aren’t you?’ When you couldn’t respond his hand lightly slapped your cheek, gripping it tightly. ‘Aren’t you?’

You gasped out a meaner ‘yes’. And watched as his smile grew.

‘And whose fuck doll are you?’ His words alone were menacing enough and you needed no further prompting to answer him this time.

‘Yours. Steve… I’m yours.’ The words were out of your lips before you had truly had the chance to process what you were saying.

‘That’;s right Baby. You’re all mine.’ His thrusts paused only briefly as he placed his feet back on the ground and pulled your ass towards the edge of the bed, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands gripped your thighs harshly, no doubt leaving a myriad of bruises in their wake. He used his new position to push even further in than you thought possible. How could he reach this far inside you? His gaze was directed down at where your bodies met with the sound of clapping flesh.

‘See that Baby? See how well your body takes me? How deep I am inside you, basically in your womb?’ His words terrified you but there was a part of you that longed for me. ‘See this right here?’ His finger tapped your abdomen and you could see what he meant as he moved. Even through all the layers of fat, muscle and skin you could still see the bulbous head of his cock as he speared into you. ‘You were made for this. For me.’

You shredded as he hand moved down from your stomach and back to your clit. You didn’t want to want his fingers or any part of him for that matter, yet your body continued to betray you, a mewl falling from your lips as he flicked your clit.

The coil which you had been denying grew tighter and tighter with every thrust of his hips. You could tell Steve had realised how closer you were as you felt him pull back, his pace slowing ever so slightly. He had drawn you tantalisingly close to the edge and yet refused to push you over. You hated the way your eyes met his, large and doe like, silently begging for more.

‘You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want to cum Baby. I wanna hear you beg for me. For my cock.’ You shook your head back and forth, determined not to cave. All this earned you was a humourless laugh. ‘Let me make this real simple for you Baby. You can either beg for me like a good girl or I can simply stop giving a fuck about your pleasure.’ As though to emphasise his words he let his fingers cease their dance along your clit, causing a whimper to fall from your lips. ‘It’s really up to you. But dildo make your mind up quickly, I’m not feeling very patient.’

Five thrusts. That was all it took for your resolve to crumble and for the words to start tumbling from your lips. ‘Please. Please Steve. Let me cum. I need it.’

‘Oh Baby, you and I both know you can do better.’ His words mocked you as his slow pace drove you crazy.

You swallowed down your pride as you prepared to say your next words. ‘I need you Steve. You’re-’ You were cut off by the sudden fierceness of his thrusts, once again bringing you back to the edge. There was a warning look in his eye as he gazed down at you to keep going with your begging however. ‘You’re the only one. The only one who can give me what I want. What I need.’ Your words which he had clearly so longed to hear sent him over the edge as he collapsed on top of you, grinding his hips against you as he pumped you full of his cum. You hated how the feeling of him coating your walls was what did you in, triggering your own desperate release. Your walls clenched around him, pulsing as your body tried to lock him into place.

The time it took for Steve to recover truly said a great deal about how much he had wanted this. How own breaths were laboured as he lay unmoving on top of you, his forehead pressed against your own, forcing you to breathe in his air.

‘God Baby,. That was even better than last night. So much better. I think I… I need a little break before round two. Maybe next time you could do all the work and ride me like how you ride that little dildo of yours hmmm?’ His words were hazy but the force with which he lifted you up from the edge of the bed and moved so that he lay with his head against the pillow, his cock not once slipping out of you was astonishing. His arms locked around your waist, holding you in place as he yawned. ‘Maybe you could wake me up after my little nap like that? I don’t think there's any better way to be woken up.’

His azure eyes closed and you dreaded the next time you would see them once more.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Watch Your Words-Arthur Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader

(GIF credit to @paulinska44stark)

Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2

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Requested by anonymous: 'can you do a arthur shelby one where the reader is his daughter (16-17) and they get into argument and he says something he doesn't mean and she runs off and everyone starts to get worried when they cant find her but she with bonnie or Isaiah and Arthur finds her and they talk and he apologizes and they make up'

Characters: Arthur Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader, Isaiah Jesus x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Alcohol abuse/drunkenness, neglect, swearing, crying, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I moaned as I stirred that morning, hating how little sleep I had got. My father had been out once again, stumbling in at who knows what time, not keeping quiet and sounding like he was having a fight with himself downstairs. It wasn't unusual for him to drink this much, he used to do it a lot more, and I thought it had stopped for a while; the company was doing well, there hadn't been as much trouble recently, my father had been more present in my life. However, I watched it all crumble before me, returning to nights by myself, cooking for one, not having anyone to talk to.

Before heading downstairs, I peeked into my dad's room, wondering if he had made it upstairs. I was wrong, hoping that he was sprawled out on the sofa. Again, I made the mistake of thinking he wasn't that drunk, finding him lying down on the kitchen floor, two of the chairs from the dining table knocked over, as well as smashed glass surrounding it.

Sighing, I brushed some pieces of glass away from his head, hoping he would want to head to bed as soon as he woke up. Dad was on his back, head tilted to the right as he lightly snored. His coat had been in the hallway, along with his hat, but he had failed to take his jacket off, it was half way down his arms.

"Dad," I quietly said, shaking him lightly,"dad!"

He jolted awake, taking in a sharp breath, trying to figure out where he was. When he saw me, he groaned, wiping a hand over his face. Helping him sit up, I prayed that he wouldn't be sick (I had dealt with that situation too many times), not saying anything yet as I didn't know what mood he was in.

"Fucking hell." his voice was raspy, still rough from the night before."Did I wake you up?"

"Last night you did. But it doesn't matter."

"Sorry love."

"It's alright." I lied, managing to sit him down in a chair."Do you think you can stomach something?"

"Nah."

I didn't press further, grabbing a broom and sweeping up the glass into a pile. He said nothing more. As I got rid of the glass, making sure there were no more pieces we could step on, I noticed his fist on the table clenching up.

"Dad? You OK?"

"Just thinking about last night." he mumbled.

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Don't worry. It's not for your ears. Go on, go get dressed."

I did as he said, knowing he was particularly sensitive at this moment. It was quiet downstairs when I was getting ready, a blessing and a curse. He could be sat down gathering his senses, trying to sober up, or he could be working himself into a frenzy. It had happened before, and I was scared it could happen again. I loved my father, he had raised me well, considering that we were Shelby's. Though I supposed I had Aunt Polly and Aunt Ada to thank for that, not him. He had always tried to be around when I was younger, wanting his child to know her dad. But as I got older, when I could become more independent, that's when he realised he could have a bit more freedom, especially since the woman (my mother) he fucked wanted nothing to do with him, just to look after the child they created.

I returned to him once I was ready for the day, slowly stepping into the kitchen. My heart sunk at the sight of whiskey in his hands once again. How could someone drink so much and continue? I had been drunk before, and I didn't enjoy the headache the next day.

"Dad, did something happen last night?" I hesitantly asked, slowly walking towards him.

He scoffed."Some people don't understand what respect means. I'm Arthur fucking Shelby, I don't think twice about killing a man."

I hated when he spoke of killing. It was something I always pushed to the back of my mind.

"You would not believe what this woman said to me last night. She...she said...how the fuck did I end up with a daughter like you? How could my daughter, who apparently has the heart in an angel, look me in the face everyday and smile? Hm? Well go on then, answer her question!"

"Dad, she was just trying to win you up."

He took a swig of his drink, clumsily leaning back in his seat."No, no, she meant that! And I want to know too. Since you're so perfect, what are you doing in the Shelby family?"

I backed away, now pressed up against the wall opposite him."You're not making sense. Look, I'll cook us something to eat, it'll help with your headache."

"The only headache round here is you."

"What?"

"Don't know why your whore mother left you on my doorstep. I'm a killer, how would I know how to raise a child?"

"Just shut up dad, you're wasting your energy over this."

He shot up from his chair, causing it to hit the cabinets behind him."Don't you tell me what to do!"

I flinched back, hitting my back and head on the wall. He had never hurt me, but there was a different rage in his eyes, and I was scared that this was the look his victims saw before he killed them.

“When I fucked her, I was drunk, done a few lines, eh? I didn’t even know her name, but it didn’t matter. She might have been a prostitute, she might have been a woman at the club. But it didn’t matter.”

“Dad,” I sobbed, wondering if I should just run,“please stop talking like this.”

“I’ve slept with hundreds of women, never had a baby turn up though. But of course, just when things were going good for me, I got stuck with you. I had to spend money on you, feed you, dress you, shit, I had to make sure I knew what the fuck I was doing and be there for you. My fucking life went out of the window.”

I didn’t need to hear any more of this. Taking my chances, I darted towards the hallway, throwing open the door and running into the street. People on their way to work (or coming back from a long night out) watched as I sprinted past them, tears streaming down my face, despite the wind repeatedly drying them. I had heard my dad call for me, and I was sure he had fallen down trying to come after me. Stumbling into Charlie’s yard as I slowed down, I sighed with relief when I saw that no one was there. It seemed stupid to come here, when it was my family that owned it (and they were the people I wanted to be away from), but it was also somewhere I felt safe. Sniffling, I used one of my dress sleeves to wipe away the tears, now idly walking around the place. It was so dirty here, gloomy and dark; it reflected the mood at the moment.

Sitting down on a chair, that was terribly out of place, outside the stables, I leaned back, hating how the cold air hurt my lungs from running. My throat was recovering from being dry, but now there was a metallic taste in my saliva. It wasn’t lady-like to sit like this, but who gave a fuck? Coughing before spitting on the floor, I sunk deeper into the chair, legs spreading out to make it comfier.

“What’s little Miss Shelby doing all the way out here by herself?” I heard Isaiah call. However, the cocky smirk he held disappeared when he saw my teary face.“Shit, what’s happened?”

“My dad.” I sobbed, sitting up properly when he knelt in front of me.“He’s just drunk and...he said some things.”

“What things?”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble, Is.”

“Don’t worry about me.” Isaiah held on of my hands that was resting on my lap.“You’ve never been this upset before, he’s clearly said something that’s hurt you.”

“I’m tired of his habits Isaiah, he’s gone back to his old ways. I hate it! I don’t understand how he can go out almost every night and drink to that extent. He’s broken things in the house, he’s been sick, he’s fallen down the stairs, and yet it continues! And today, he said hurtful words to me. Told me how I was just the child of a whore, I was unwanted, he was basically saying he regrets taking me in when he could have easily given me to an orphanage!”

“Hey, calm down.” Isaiah kept his voice quiet.“He’s drunk, you know that. And that means he doesn’t mean those things.”

“They say that drunk words are your true thoughts.” I snapped.

“(Y/N), please listen to me.”

Reluctantly, I looked down at him, trying not to smile at the image of our hands interlocked.

“Your dad loves you far too much for his own good. He’s only ever loved his family, as in his brothers, sister and aunt, and that was just the normal. You were different. Yes, you weren’t planned, meaning he hadn’t prepared himself to welcome yet another person in his life.And he had to throw himself into parenthood, had to realise he was looking after a child. It was like going cold turkey for him. Now I’m not excusing his words or actions from earlier, he shouldn’t have ever said such things to you. But he worries, he worries because he loves you so much that he doesn’t even understand it himself.”

“I know that deep down...it just hurt. And I’m scared that he’s going to keep doing this to himself.”

He sighed, standing up, tugging on my hand.“Let’s go. We don’t need to be in this sad place.”

I slightly smiled, still holding his hand as I stood. However, he let go, taking off his coat and putting it on me. Luckily I was just tall enough for it to not drag on the floor, otherwise I would have dragged it through mud. He made his usual cheeky remark about it ‘looking better on me’, causing me to roll my eyes but laugh all the same. He distracted me as we walked, trying to steer the topic away from family matters.

"Isaiah, do you want kids?" I randomly asked.

He chuckled."Was that an offer?"

I shoved him away from me, causing us to laugh."You know what I meant you prick."

"Yeah, I do. It's still early days for me, especially since I'm doing a lot more for the boss and all that. But once I find my girl, I'll want to have my own family."

"That's very sweet of you Is. I can see you being a father, and a good one at that. Once you grow up a bit that is."

"You're wanting a mature man then, eh (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, do you know of anybody?"

He pretended to think."Nah."

The dreadful feeling that had been stuck in the pit of my stomach was almost gone, until I saw my dad running around the streets, obviously looking for me. Poor people in the street were bombarded by questions, he was terrifying to them. When he saw Isaiah and me, he was relieved, taking long strides towards us. He didn't look angry anymore, but I was still wary, hoping Isaiah would stay beside me.

"(Y/N), (Y/N) love, I've been looking everywhere for you!" he exasperated, trying to catch his breath.

"She was down by Charlie's yard." Isaiah explained.

"Why didn't you find me straight away?"

I butted in before he got angry with Isaiah."I was upset, Isaiah cheered me up. I wouldnt have come back anyway."

"I'm sorry (Y/N). I really didn't mean anything that I said this morning. It was the alcohol, I swear!"

"You'll use this excuse for the next time too."

"There won't be a next time, I promise!"

"Dad, do you know how much you upset me today? You basically told me you didn't want me, you called my mother a whore. There were so many random things that came out of nowhere, and it was purely to hurt me because you were hurting."

"I know. A woman in the bat last night reminded me of how your mother was, or at least I think she did. She made the same comments, saying that I didn't deserve to have such a lovely, good hearted girl as a daughter."

"No, sometimes you don't. But you're lucky that I love up to that title, because I love you too much to let this get in the way of our relationship."

"I'm going to stop, I won't do that again!"

"You're not going to drink again?"

He hesitated."I...I mean-"

"Dad, I was joking. I'm not expecting you to quit drinking altogether, just don't drink as much. And not just because you say mean things, because you've hurt yourself in the past. And there's so many people who are after you."

"Alright love, I'll hold back. For you. Am I forgiven?"

"For now." I hugged him, still upset, but knowing that we had to move past this in order for him to get better."I'm going to stay with Isaiah today though. I feel like we should spend some time apart, for the rest of the day at least."

"Why with Isaiah?"

"Because he's my friend, and he's helped me take my mind off things. I'll see you later dad." I kissed his cheek before grabbing Isaiah's hand again, dragging him away.

"You know you're dad is going to kill me right?" Isaiah said once we were out of earshot.

"He won't. Not if he wants me coming back for dinner tonight."

"I'm going to lose you that soon?"

"You would be so lucky Isaiah."

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wheresmybuckyhoes · 3 years

Text

Just a Cut

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: This is quite a dark fic involving sh! Don’t read if you are sensitive to this! Angst, blood, blades, scars.

Summary: I don’t want to spoil the plot so I’ll just say, Bucky comforts you and loves you no matter what

Note from me: Sorry for the dark theme, I just felt like writing one like this. Let me know if this is a bit too dark, as I’m always happy to accept feedback from you guys! Xx

It was another one of those days where you felt like you were drowning, gasping for just a small breath of air. You had woken up early at the crack of dawn, having tossed and turned all through the night. You had rubbed sleep from your heavy eyes, crawling into the scalding hot shower. The burning sensation as you felt the water and steam engulf your pale skin made you forget the pains of your past. However, even as your skin reddened and your body went numb, you still felt a vast emptiness of pained memories and suffering taking a hold of your thoughts.

You had wrapped a towel carelessly around your bare chest, moving mindlessly to sit upon your bed. A small notion was tugging at the back of your mind, urging you to do the very thing you had never been able to do before. You had to get the pain to stop. Before you knew it, tears were prickling your eyes and sliding softly onto your towel, making a silent pattering sound only your sensitive ears could hear. You watched them fall one by one, feeling a rage build up inside of you as you began to shake. You just wanted it to stop. ‘Please. Please shut up, please’ you whispered to the empty room as you shook your head, exasperated and exhausted.

You couldn’t remember when the unconscious thought came to be a conscious action. You just remember suddenly being in front of the foggy bathroom mirror, razor blade in hand. You stared blankly into your eyes, all the while tears still blinded you and fogged both your vision and way of thinking. You shrugged off the towel so you were standing there, naked and shaking. You held out your wrist in front of you as you gripped the blade, knuckles turning white and roughly pressed the blade into your skin there, just holding it still for a few moments. You’re shallow breaths echoed around you, enclosing you in your own world for just a moment. Then you moved.

Just for a moment, everything seemed still, almost peaceful. Your tears blurred the build up of a beautiful crimson liquid seemingly spilling out from inside of you. The physical pain you focused your every being into took away the mental pain you would forever be weighed down by. But then you came crashing down so, so quickly. It really, really hurt. You had hurt the body which had held you up all these years without fail, and you suddenly felt sick to your stomach, sick to every nerve in your body.

You didn’t want to throw up. You didn’t want this sudden violent shaking to continue. You didn’t want to feel anymore. You collapsed to the floor, your exposed skin touching the freezing cold tiles on the bathroom floor. Loud, choked sobs erupted unwillingly from your throat as you held out your bleeding wrist, the blood dripping onto the floor.

You heard heavy footsteps approach the room suddenly. Silence. Then, a knock on the door. ‘Y/n is everything alright?’ You heard Bucky’s tender voice through the bathroom door. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and quieten the sobs, but the super soldier had already heard you from a mile away. Why couldn’t you have kept your mouth shut. ‘I’m coming in y/n’ you could hear Bucky frown from the other side, as he easily broke the locking mechanism with his vibranium arm and pushed open the door.

You saw his eyes widen at first as he saw you crumpled naked and violently shaking on the floor, blood covered wrist on one hand and blood covered blade in the other. Your head was tilted slightly up, eyes on the ceiling, he assumed to stop yourself from either throwing up or looking at the blood splattered on the floor. Then almost as quick as the shock had registered on his face, a new emotion seemed to quickly replace it. A sort of sadness, or rather, recognition, empathy. He fell to his knees beside you, as he pried the blade out of your closed hand, crushing it with his vibranium fingers. He sighed with such a deep and understanding sadness as he pulled up his sleeve to reveal a few scars dotted up and down his wrists. You felt your breath hitch as you realised what Bucky was showing you. If you knew he had done that to himself, you would have done everything in your power to make him feel like he didn’t have to...You looked down at your wrist as you realised. Bucky pulled you up, covering you with the towel that was previously discarded on the floor. He pulled your arm under the tap, carefully washing away the crimson liquid and pulling out a bandage from one of the drawers to wrap your wrist with, immediately after pulling you close. You sunk to the floor and he followed carefully as he pulled you so you were sat on his lap, arms secured safely around you.

His hug pulled you away from the pain, both mental and physical, as you cried silently into his shoulder for a few minutes. ‘Oh doll, it’s ok, I’m here now’ he whispered every now and then as he stroked your hair carefully. You realised this was a new type of distraction. You weren’t using pain to take away from pain, but unconditional love and support from the one person who would always be there for you to make you forget about both pains, even for just a second. He held you gently by the shoulders pulling you away from him to look into your eyes, as he took his thumb and wiped away your dwindling tears. ‘Shhh I got you now. Your safe. They can’t get you here y/n’ he spoke reassuringly as he gave you a pained smile. You looked up into those wise blue eyes that had seen so much. You knew the thoughts that kept you up at night would never cease. But at least with someone to share them with, you could now finally see a brighter tomorrow.

If any of my readers can relate to this story or just want someone to talk to, I am always here and happy to listen x

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel angst

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Bedroom Blues | Luke Hemmings

A/N; I hope you like it, and that it’s angsty enough. I’m not too great at writing smut, but I took more time with this imagine, and I felt quite inspired with it. Feedback would be appreciated for any improvements, thankyou for the request and please enjoy (Sorry if the smut’s bad!) - M x

Warnings; includes smut, angst, mentions and complications of miscarriage, cheating, mentions of drug use, drinking, swearing, choking, toxic relationship, spit

Uttering a single word was unsettling, there was an edge driven between you and Luke, a bump in the road that you feared that the pair of you were unable to cross. He had distanced himself, pouring his emotions into his music rather than expressing them to you.

It hurt, that he pushed you away, telling you to focus on yourself when all that you could mull your mind over was his state of self and all that you had lost. You needed him, it would never be a cure for the pain in your chest, but even so much as a word would have dimmed the heartbreak.

But he was ‘busy’ as he put it. He remained at the studio as you sat on the bottom of the cold bed, the sheets made and pillows perfectly shaped. No one had slept in it in days, you’d opt for the sofa and he anywhere far enough away.

Sometimes, he’d even crash at Cal’s, leaving you in the company of Petunia, who always tried to make you feel better, bless her little heart. But there was another suspicion arising in your welded brain.

It was not a puzzle to put the pieces together, the clues were straightforward. He was slowly losing himself, and by doing so, also you.

Whenever you had the chance to see him, there was a cheap stench of perfume that waded around him, giving you hints about his altered aura. The scent was new to you, nothing you owned smelt like chemicalised fuchsias and indigos.

It could only belong to another woman, the one who left red marks upon the collars of his white shirts that he ignored, allowing you to wash them when you extracted them from the laundry basket.

He sat at his desk, phone in hand as he spoke frustratedly to his manager. Feldy was unimpressed by the things that the musician that he bought with his money, it wasn’t legal and if it were to escape to the public’s eye, he’d be cancelled.

Drugs was not the only consumption that he tolerated to ease his childless suffering, he endeavoured out to puns, with new friends that the boys hadn’t even met.

They seemed sleazy, and were accountably not a good influence upon him. As you leant against the doorframe, you tentatively listened to Luke cuss at the man of his label, him oblivious to your presence.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, I have a reasonable excuse. My child died, before he was even born, I have to cope somehow! So before you let your criticisms slip through your barking lips, consider how you would feel if you were in my position!”

Luke gave the man no time to reply, he hung up, sliding his phone across the table, it hitting the stapler that was sat on the hardwood surface.

He was hurting, he was trying to tolerate the pain, but he was not going about it the right way. As he attempted to get through this tough time, he was hurting everyone that he claimed to love, including you.

“You can’t keep using our son’s passing as an excuse.” It was his answer to everything, the penance that he guarded himself with.

At the sound of your voice, he sighed, rubbing his face with his hand, sick and tired of it all. There was never a moment to waste, he had realised that. Life was about living, something that his child never got to experience. He was making up for the future that he didn’t reach.

“Don’t hassle me woman, you don’t understand.” It was as though he was oblivious to how you felt, focusing on yourself wouldn’t have made his words burn any less.

However painful the strike of the match was, it also made you angry. The way he had the audacity to speak to you like it, as though he were blaming its body for the error that it had gone through.

“Fuck you!” It leapt from your mouth far more aggressively than you intended, but you didn’t regret the exclamation. It was a blessing, that your voice box had the courage to speak the pickings of your mind. “I understand more than you could ever know, you think you’re in pain. Perhaps you should take some time to think, sit and remember the life that we were going to have. Because whilst your out partying, fucking other women and being blind to the fact that you’re pushing everyone that cares away, it makes me think that it’s a good job that our baby wasn’t brought into the world. You’re not exactly father material.”

Luke threw himself from his spinning chair, clasping his hands around (Y/N)’s neck, holding your furious body against the wall. He sneered at the sight of her, for the first time in two months, looking into her eyes. She had insulted him, he wasn’t in the right headspace for that.

“Take it back.” He sternly ordered her, squeezing tighter around her throat. Her silence infuriated him further, and so the tall blond man pried again, leaning in closer to her face. “Take it fucking back you - you... Please take it back (Y/N).”

He broke, but (Y/N) wasn’t ready to cave for him so easily, even as he kept a hold around her. Instead she pursed her lips, forming a ball of saliva in her mouth and spitting it straight in his face.

It landed upon his left eyebrow, wallowing further down as he frowned at her crudeness. Finally, he realised his girlfriend, stepping back, shaking his curls at the sight of her. She disgusted him, she had no right to treat him that way when he was in so much pain. You weren’t helping him cope, you were only making it harder.

“I can’t lie to you like that Luke.” Your voice was softer, however your cheeks hollowed at the crumbled sight of him. He had sunk to the ground, he was on his knees, his head hung low.

“I’ve really fucked up, haven’t I?” He didn’t need an answer, not when he was already too aware of his own mistakes. There was no redemption, no do overs. No way to revive his son.

Although he had hurt you in ways in which you’d never forgive him for, it drummed an ache in your chest to see Luke like this. The worst part was that through all of his fuck ups and downs, you still loved him.

He was all you had left, you had lost everything else. It made you think that it hadn’t been the right time, or right at all for you and Luke to have a child together. The creation and its demise had split the two of you apart, there was no coming back from that.

But you were both here, on the floor of his studio, and so you got on your knees before him, cupping his downturned face and turning it up to look at your own. He appreciated the warmth that your hands provided, he had missed them, as well as the rest of you that accompanied them.

“That’s one way to put it.” Licking your lips at the dryness that had masked them, Luke watched the action. It was ordinary, as did your relationship to the media. But that things that they did not know was that the string between the pair of you was torn, it was getting old and would soon fall through.

There was still a single spark left, he felt it surpass the contact he had with your skin. Instinctively he rotated his head in your palm, pressing his lips against the smooth skin, placing delicate, harmless kisses upon the skin.

It surprised you, however you allowed him to continue his path, that trailed up the expanse of your arm, across your shoulder, up the hollow of your neck, until he arrived at your lips. They were so familiar, yet he was so estranged from them.

The appearance of them upheld that of an old friend, they had changed, grown away from their friendship and moved on. This was a chance to reconnect, even if it be for only a moment, and so Luke greeted them with the pressing of his own lips, feeling the remainder of passion left.

He would always love you, you’d been the mother of his child, his rock. And thinking of that had you reciprocating the action, opening your mouth and inclining him a taste inside.

His hands ran down the silhouette of your body, feeling every curve and inch for what felt like the last time. And it probably would be, and so he intended to make the most of it, leave with a regretless finale.

Your hands attacked his hair, tugging at the roots, making the man before you groan at the contact. “Bedroom.” You mumbled against his bittersweet lips.

The pair of you stood, and the tall guitarist hoisted you into his arms, walking through the halls that the pair of you shared.

There were so many ghosts wandering the house, it was eerie, nostalgic. He’d remembered when the pair of you had first scoped out this place through an estate agent. It had felt like home, but now it had the aura of a blue sea; polluted and slowly emptying of all life.

He took careful steps up to stairs, as insurance that he wouldn’t drop your body from his amorous grasp, or that he wouldn’t slip somewhere he couldn’t see.

The two of you were already emotionally fragile, it didn’t need to transfer to its physical cousin. And so he proceeded his route, pushing the bedroom door open with his shoulder, not bothering to close it in his wake.

Lightly he tossed you onto the neat and unused bed, causing a crease to form in the material, but it didn’t matter. Not as he stripped himself of his white silk shirt that had an opening at his chest, tossing it onto the floor.

His stomach was heaving as he got caught in the moment, watching you expectedly as he tugged on the end of your own shirt. It had been a maternity shirt, one that you had bought in consideration for later in the course of your pregnancy. At last, it was getting some use, but Luke would have preferred if it received less of that.

Removing the article washed away any link that your body showed of a prior pregnancy, momentarily it discarded the memories of the change your body had been due; stretchmarks, swollen feet, a craving for the strangest of digestible combinations.

One reminder remained though. It was Luke, who crawled upon the king sized bed, sliding atop of you and trailing his fingertips down the lines of your bra straps, carefully sliding them down your arms, so that the covering merely stayed on by the back portion.

“Is this okay? I don’t want you to regret it.” He had his own, he know how it ate away at his soul, piece by piece. There was no worse feeling, he didn’t want you to experience the same.

A loose lipped smile came across your face, he was being considerate. It was more than he had been since the miscarriage, then he had resembled a shadow whenever he chose to return home. He was hardly visible, and if you saw him, nothing was uttered, it was just a bleak darkness underneath the sun’s scoping rays that explored through the open blinds.

“I’m okay with it.” With your consent in hand, Luke shuffled atop of you, grinding his half hardness against the cotton shorts that protected the disabled birthing centre that you had been the entrance to this entire ordeal.

Shivering at the feeling, you released a small moan, which further spurred on the man. “Fuck, I can’t wait any longer.” He sat upon his knees, digging them into the mattress as he made easy work of his belt, sliding it through the loops and throwing it aside.

Next were his trousers, and as he removed them and his undergarments, you quickly mirrored his actions, leaving both of you naked, aside from the comfortable bra that you were cooped in.

It didn’t matter if a part of you was shielded, Luke was ready to get down to business and make the most of this last night. But before he could position his tip at your slit, one of your hands softly pushed him back, although he remained hovering above your ample body.

“Condom.” You told him, you not wanting to risk another pregnancy. At the word, Luke’s eyes widened, as though it was flashing him back to the night that the pair of you had forwent using one. It had ended in a miracle, that over time, transformed into the worse curse imaginable to mankind.

Luke reached over to the bedside draw, extracting a single packet and delicately ripping it open, taking out the form of protection. He held it in his hand, rolling it upon himself from tip to base. And then all was ready for him to proceed.

Hooking one of your legs around his waist, he pushed into you, which emitted a gasp from both the involved. It felt almost foreign, like a one night stand. It had been a while since such a natural presentation of affection had dawned in this room, or anywhere in this house.

The angle gave him a deeper point to hit you at, and he took full advantage of that. His pace had began slow, but it increased as your hands traced undecipherable shapes upon his nude back, knowing that in this minute, everything went away.

All the pain was gone. The distance was nowhere to be found, it had been crushed by the closeness that your bodies now emitted. It was all replaced by pleasure, the exotic feeling flowed in flushed lines through your skins, and out of the sinful sounds that emitted from your mouths.

Biting lightly into his shoulder, it made the singer groan, it sounded almost musical. It brought you back to the days when he would sing lightly whilst making breakfast together in the mornings, that was in the old apartment, before you had risked such a great commitment into buying somewhere as a couple.

He didn’t fault in his languid strokes, they weren’t fast or slow; they were the perfect in between. However he was going deep, reaching far into your cunt, which was clenching over and over again around his impressive girth.

“Do that again baby.” The name made the pair of you freeze, staring solely into each other’s eyes as the train stopped on the tracks once more. “Shit, fuck, sorry.”

It pained him too, but there was no other thing that didn’t mean stopping other than pushing through the sensitive clause. And so you dragged his face to your own, allowing him to entangle your lips, clenching around him with your inner walls as he had asked.

“Oh god.” You moaned as he had rammed further inside of your core, he sped up at the sound of your approval. He was driving you closer to the edge, and so were the noises of your bodies battling against each other. The entire ordeal was euphoric, you couldn’t help but let go.

Luke noticed that you had came, and from realising that alone, followed shortly after your bust. And then it was the prompt, the realisation that this was the end, there’d be no more love, no more sex, only ghosts trailing through your brain.

The fact was depressing, but it was healthier for everyone involved, Perhaps one day, you’d return for each other, but first you and Luke would both have to heal from the scarring, separately.

254 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

dawn. (sakusa kiyoomi)

➵ even monsters should have someone to bring them flowers.

wc: 3k

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!sakusa, visceral depiction of raw meat?

a/n: the biggest of thank yous to ren, as usual :( she doesn’t even like fantasy aus and yet she’s beta’d a fair chunk of them. as always, her advice is invaluable, and she helped polish this into something worthwhile.

A note on the table.

The only sign you’d been here. That, and your lingering scent – warm, golden, comforting.

He was almost sad that he’d missed you.

But the words in your letter would have to tide him over until your next conversation.

“Good morning! I hope you are well-rested this evening. I have left this meat here as requested. I couldn’t help but wonder what dishes you make with it. Are you much of a cook? If not, I am happy to try and prepare something for you. I cannot guarantee that it will be to your taste, but I will try my best!”

He let his eyes linger on it for a moment. He wondered how his chest might feel, if he was fully alive. Tight, maybe. Fuzzy.

Now, the thrum of emotions just made his senses sharper.

And that made him uncomfortable.

He turned his eyes to the parcel sitting to the side of your note.

He unwrapped the paper packaging with a trembling gloved hand.

The ripest cut of the belly. It sat in a pool of its own liquids, a crimson slab marbled with white. He knew that there wasn’t a sufficient amount of blood in it – but it’s all he could handle. All he could stomach.

He took a deep breath. The air in his lungs did nothing for him, but some habits were harder to break than others, even if it had been a couple hundred years.

He picked up the meat with both hands, holding it just shy of his mouth. His face crinkled as the scent filled his nose, putrid, offensive, intoxicating.

It’s disgusting. But it’s what he had to do.

He sunk his fangs into the meat, the damp flesh pressing against his chin. He could feel the juices running down his chin, and he shivered. His eyes fluttered shut, perhaps in some attempt to steel himself.

It’s not blood. It wouldn’t sustain him.

Instead, it would just make him sick.

This meat, this scant amount of blood threaded throughout it, wasn’t enough to sustain him. But he’d rather go hungry than go out for a hunt, either for animal or human.

The thought was absolutely abhorrent, both in its ethicality and hygiene.

This meat was not enough to sustain him. But it would stave off the hunger, at least for a few days. At least until the next slab of meat, when he would feel this all again.

He’s trembling as he drank, hoping, wishing that it would be over soon.

A loud gasp sliced through the kitchen.

Sakusa tore his fangs out of the meat, his head whipping around.

You were stood in the doorway, eyes wide and hands clamped over your mouth.

At your feet laid a bunch of sunflowers.

You stared at each other for a long moment.

What was he supposed to do? To say?

He knew what he looked like. Sharp fangs poking through his lips, red staining his chin, the veins running along his jaw dark beneath his skin as he fed.

“Sakusa, sir…” There was a tremble in your voice. He despised the sound.

“Get out.”

“Sir—”

“Get out.”

You knew now. You knew that he was a monster. That he was disgusting. You’d seen it with your own eyes – eyes full of terror. Eyes he’d never wanted to look at him like that.

You waited for just a moment. And then you were gone.

Sakusa let the meat fall out of his hands and plop onto the wrapping. His appetite had entirely disappeared despite the fact he wasn’t nourished. He closed his eyes, trying to round up his whirling thoughts.

You’d seen him. You’d seen him in all his disgrace. You’d seen him as the monster he was.

He swallowed roughly, turning his gaze to the doorway.

The sunflowers were where you’d dropped them, scattered across the floor.

Were they why you’d come back? You shouldn’t have been here. You should’ve left after finishing your jobs.

But it was just like you to bring him flowers on a whim.

He sighed, stalking over to them and picking them up with a grimace. The least he could do was to give them some water.

✧ ✧

Vampires didn’t need sleep, but Sakusa liked to pretend he did anyway.

He always had. He just did his best to quiet his mind, lying under his covers as he waited for the hours to ebb by. He couldn’t leave the house during the day; if he tried, he would simply shrivel up and crumble in the sun.

He’d tried facing the sun, once. The burn had been unlike any pain he’d felt before.

And yet sometimes he'd leave the curtains open, just a crack. And he'd lie on the couch, watching the light filter in. Sometimes, he'd even let himself remember what the sun felt like.

But every evening, he had to ‘wake’ as the sun set, watching the light shrink away from him.

That evening though, something was different. Something shook him from his self-induced slumber with an abrupt shock.

That scent. Blood.

He shot to his feet, head whipping around in the direction of the smell. It was heavy, oppressive, so thick that he couldn’t think of anything else.

He stumbled into the kitchen, hoping, begging that he might find some relief.

In the middle of the kitchen table sat a bucket. Sakusa took a series of slow, laboured steps towards it, gripped by some half-conscious fear.

A letter laid next to it, written in a familiar scrawl.

“Sir, I admit that I am confused as to how to comprehend what I saw yesterday, but if my suspicions are correct, then I believe this will do you more good than a simple cut of meat. If my imagination has gotten away from me, then simply ignore this – my father told me that mixing this into the dirt makes for a fantastic fertiliser.”

Had you really brought him a whole bucket of blood? There was more than enough here to sustain him for a week – maybe even two. How had you gotten your hands on it? How had you snuck it into his house? How had you felt, lugging this foul liquid all the way to his estate?

He closed his eyes, trying to quell the thoughts tearing through his mind.

He looked into the bucket. A dark shadow stared back.

He’d forgotten what he looked like. He’d forgotten how his dark, curly hair framed his face, how two dark moles crowned his forehead, how dark and deep his eyes were.

This was the monster you’d seen savaging a slab of meat in the kitchen. This was the monster that you’d somehow gotten your hands on a bucket of blood for. This was the monster you’d given a reprieve.

On the other side of the bucket sat a vase of sunflowers; the ones he had arranged the other day. He could swear they looked fresher than yesterday.

✧ ✧

That awful, intoxicating scent.

He had awoken to that small three times this week. But on that Monday morning, he wanted to see you. To ask you the questions that had been hounding him through his days.

He stood at the far end of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as he slouched against the wall.

You were humming to yourself as you walked in, your knuckles blanching as they gripped onto the handle of a deep bucket.

You flinched as you caught sight of him, your eyes wide and owlish. The jolt caused the blood to slosh around in the bucket. Sakusa feared, for a moment, that it would splash on the floor.

You placed the bucket on the floor and bowed sharply.

“Where did you get that?” Sakusa asked, his voice low and sharp. He suspected that you would interpret his tone as an angry one. In truth, he was frightened more than anything. Frightened of how this conversation could go.

You straightened up, fixing your eyes on him. They were still wide, still afraid. It almost looked like they’d pop out of your skull. “The butcher… they drain the caracsses before, you know…”

Ah. Your body language, your scent. It all screamed of discomfort. Distress, even. Of course you would feel that way, talking of such things. You were much too sweet for such talk.

This was his fault.

But you continued.

“So, when I saw you in the kitchen that day, I thought that…” You finally dropped your gaze. He was grateful.

“I know,” he murmured. “I read your note.”

You looked up at him again, a new expression on your face. He realised, not without some surprise, that it wasn’t fear. Perhaps something closer to hesitation.

“You were quick to make such an assumption,” he muttered, looking up at the ceiling. Sakusa wouldn’t lie to you; not when you’d gone through all this effort for him. Though, perhaps he should tell you that it was safe for you to leave his employ, if you wished.

“Well, it didn’t come out of nowhere, did it?” You smiled gently, tilting your head at him.

His head snapped around as he raised an eyebrow at you.

You giggled. It didn’t sound intentional, and you cut it off quickly. But he was glad to have heard it.

“You’re most active at night, you seem to actively avoid the sunlight, you’ve always kept a distance between us…” There was a hum in your voice. A pleasant sound, but an out-of-place one.

He frowned. Your last piece of evidence had little to do with his affliction, but he wasn’t about to point that out. He would’ve kept that distance regardless; perhaps he would be even more stringent with it, if he was still human. But it was of no matter.

“So, you’ve suspected I was a monster for a while,” Sakusa sighed. “And yet you kept coming back?”

You bit your lip, folding your hands in front of you.

He scoffed. “That was foolish of you.”

“Well, I…” You swallowed, scratching the back of your neck. “I… I thought you seemed lonely.”

Something about those words set his heart aflame. Him? Lonely? What right did you have to say something like that?

“And… and you’ve never tried to hurt me,” you mumbled, interrupting the rage swelling in his chest. “If you wanted to… to drink my blood, or, or…” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “Well, you would have done that by now, wouldn’t you?”

You’d been tending to his house for the better part of a year. The longest anyone had.

He just frowned, looking away from you.

But you weren’t done.

“And… well, you wanted me to bring you meat, right? Which means… you probably weren’t hurting anyone else,” you bit your lip, tilting your head at him. “It may be foolish of me, but… I didn’t want to judge you for what you are.”

“For being a monster, you mean?” Sakusa snarled.

He couldn’t stop himself. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but he knew he sounded repulsive. He wanted to push you, to stop you from looking any closer. From seeing how horrible he truly was.

You looked at him for a painfully long moment. A moment he wished would shatter.

“You’re not a monster.”

“I’m disgusting.” A hiss. A baring of fangs. Responses made on instinct.

“And yet you won’t feed on humans,” you murmured, eyes scanning his face.

He faltered. Were the fangs not enough to make you turn and run? Was the bucket of blood at your feet not enough to make your stomach churn?

“Would a monster hold back like that?”

Would they? He couldn’t say.

“And besides,” you said, taking a tentative step towards him. When he didn’t move, you picked up the bucket and made your way for the kitchen table. You heaved the bucket onto it with a little grunt.

“Even monsters should have someone to bring them flowers,” you smiled, nodding at the centre of the table. A vase, playing host to a small bunch of sunflowers.

“I see you haven’t brought any today,” he murmured, his eyebrows knitting together.

“I knew I wouldn’t need to,” you replied easily, leaning over to feel one of the petals. “You always look after them so well.”

He finally looked at you. You had the softest of smiles on your face. You didn’t look scared, or appalled, or upset. You were the perfect picture of contentment – just someone admiring the simple beauty of a flower.

A flower he had been responsible for nurturing.

Perhaps, there was still some humanity in him.

The thought was almost as soothing as your smile.

✧ ✧

You were terrified.

There were many whispers about Sakusa, and you’d heard them all. Even before you’d taken over the job of tending to his household, you were well-acquainted with the stories of this strange, pale man who lived alone in an excessively large mansion. A mansion that, except for a handful of peculiarities, was empty.

Previous housekeepers had nothing bad to say about him, but it was obvious they were unsettled by how strange he was. Apparently, he was a stickler for cleanliness. And yet, that wasn’t even the strangest thing about him.

You had almost decided not to take up the job, back when you’d first started. The thought of being in this big house alone with such a strange man had genuinely frightened you – but, as the story always goes, you needed the money.

After meeting Sakusa for the first time, you came to the conclusion that he probably wasn’t dangerous. Shy. Awkward. Intense. But not dangerous.

And maybe that really was foolish of you. That word had snuck back into your mind over and over, always in that harsh tone of his.

But you knew loneliness. It had carved a home inside you, a well so deep it could never overflow.

And in that strange, reticent man, you saw it. The face of a man who sheltered a deep, relentless loneliness; perhaps harsher and heavier than the one you knew. It was like he wanted to reach out, to find that sense of connection and understanding, and yet was too afraid to.

Sakusa had never hurt you. He’d never made any move to seduce you, or trap you, or manipulate you. There were no stories of him having done that to anyone else either.

So, maybe you were being foolish. Maybe this was dangerous.

But you wanted to give him a chance. To extend a hand.

And that was why you had stayed later, with the intent of catching him.

You sat on the couch next to him in a tepid silence. You weren’t quite touching, but it was the closest he’d been to a human in a long, long time. He flinched, but he didn’t move away.

“May I?” You murmured, eyes flicking to the hands clenched in his lap.

Every instinct was screaming, a muddled cacophony of wants and fears.

Sakusa nodded, driven by something he didn’t quite understand. Something, perhaps, that he’d forgotten about long ago.

You gently took his hand in yours, easing the tension in his grip by running your thumb over the back of it.

“How long have you been like this?” You asked, looking right at him. You wanted him to know that you saw him, that you acknowledged him.

“Two hundred and forty-seven years.”

“Have you avoided people all that time?”

He looked away from you. In truth, he had avoided people long before he turned.

You pressed your lips together, running your thumb over his knuckles. “Are there not… others like you?”

“There are,” he murmured. “And I want nothing to do with them.”

You bit back a smile, thoroughly amused by the dismissiveness in his tone. “Why?”

Sakusa frowned. The life of a vampire was invariably a life spent in solitude. As a rule, they weren’t the most social of creatures; and quite frankly, Sakusa was proud to be an outcast. But he wouldn’t bore you with the details.

“They’re all insufferable,” he mumbled.

You giggled. “How so?”

Sakusa pressed his lips together. There were many reasons to avoid covens; anxiety, petty politics, filth. Being around those who were just as disgusting as him – and who didn’t care about that. Who lived openly and freely as the monsters they were. Feeding on humans. Fighting amongst themselves.

Yes, covens sounded hellish.

But some part of him feared that maybe it was because he was afraid of connecting. Of reaching out. Of being seen – seen as the abhorrent creature that he was. To be around other vampires, to partake in their way of life, meant finally, truly facing the fact that he was a monster. That he was so, so far away from the human world.

From your world. You, who was sitting here with your hand wrapped around his.

“Why are you doing this?” He murmured, staring into the fire. The fireplace had been merely decorative until today. But he hoped that it was bringing you some warmth. He couldn’t tell how cold these early hours of the morning were. Everything was cold, to him.

“Doing what?” You asked, tilting your head at him.

He frowned. “Being so… so…”

He couldn’t find the words. Couldn’t shape them.

But you understood. He could tell, from the gentle look in your eyes.

“I want to get to know you,” you hummed, smiling at him.

He wanted to tell you that was foolish. That you were wasting your time. That he didn’t deserve you. But he had a feeling you would refute all of those points. That you’d smile and tell him that none of those things mattered. You were such a strange human.

“And,” you murmured, looking down at your entwined hands with a touch of red on your cheeks, “this might be selfish of me, but… I want to see you smile.”

And you got stranger. Every time you open your mouth, you would say something so odd. But it’s not unwelcomed.

He thought that you were something like the sun.

You gave off a certain warmth; the type that begot growth. It was a warmth that others could flourish in, that would give them the love and care that they needed. Perhaps this was the closest he would ever come to sunlight again.

Maybe he was ready to welcome the sun.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa imagines #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuucreations #my first sakusa piece fdslfdlkfj #i hope i did alright

490 notes · View notes

achliegh · 3 years

Text

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slyterin-hufflepuff & @punkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 9:

FMRN

Would You Go With Me

My Stress

Today was the day, Leo was moving to Gryffindor with two sexy hockey players who actually want him. He hasn’t stopped smiling for the last 26 hours. He was currently in the shower while his boys packed a ‘sexy time’ bag in his closet. Casually bopping to the beat of FMRN as he rinsed off his body. Stepping out of the shower he starts drying off. Legs, stomach, chest, face and everything else. Walking to the closet for the connecting door to the bathroom he finds Finn sitting on a suitcase and Logan trying to zip it shut. Shaking his head he walks over to this plane clothes and starts getting dressed, just a simple pair of jeans, t shirt, belt and baseball cap.

The music was still in the background as Logan jumps up and whoops with triumph. Skipping over to Leo he pulls him in for a rather aggressive, excited, kiss with Finn following with his own sweet and gentle one of his own.

“That bag is crazy full, just so you know.” Finn smiles and kisses Logan’s forehead, the shorter of them was still buzzing like he drank six energy drinks. They heard a bell being rung for breakfast and all sprint over each other to get downstairs.

Judy does not play when it comes to breakfast.

After a healthy morning breakfast of shrimp and grits, or cheese grits if you are Leo, everyone started packing up the vehicles. Leo gets car sick a lot of the time in smaller cars so he is driving them to the airport, ‘them’ meaning Clay and Reg… Finn and Logan got kicked out into Thomas and Noelle's car. Logan fought a little about it but Finn knew that Leo still needed his space. So convincing Logan to go with him by offering a bag of salt and vinegar pork rinds, was rather easy.

Finn has noticed how easy to fall Leo is, he just hopes that Leo doesn’t hesitate with them. Logan didn’t make a very good impression the first time they left. Ever since then Leo has been, understandably, cautious around them. It hurts a little but Finn only ever notices after he looks back on a situation. How Leo looks unsure or hesitates to touch them.

He figured them living together might help Leo open up to him. He just wants him to be happy and safe with them.

“Why am I so nervous…? I have been talking about these two for the entire summer. Shouldn’t I be more excited?” Leo opens the gate with an app on his phone before setting it down in the cupholder. Reg and Clay share a look.

Leo has taken to getting drunk to open up about his fears, Reg and Clay have both become therapists for a sad Leo who isn’t thinking right. It usually stems from Logan's words he used to kiss Leo goodbye for the first time.

‘You are just… a guy who we had a fling’

‘You don’t mean anything to us Leo’

‘Stop being a fucking child Leo!’

Those words haunt Leo when he isn’t distracted in some way. It has gotten better ever since their trip to Gryffindor the first time, but they knew it still bothered him.

“Maybe it's because you are living somewhere away from Peanut for so long.” Clay smiles at him when their eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

“I did try and convince Logan to let him come with, but it was a no. I still can’t believe he is afraid of horses.” Leo snorts and visibly relaxes.

“You know you can always stay with me if you ever need anything, right?” Reg looks at him and gives him a soft smile. Leo squeezes his bicep in thanks. They continue the rest of the drive by Clay annoying Regulus until Reg climbs into the backseat to give him a couple of smacks with a bag of sunflower seeds.

A plane ride and a sleepy car ride later, Leo was carrying most of his bag into Finn’s apartment. He set everything down in the second bedroom and looked around. This was the smallest bedroom he has ever been in… But he was hoping he’d be spending most of his time in the master bedroom anyway. Biting his lip at the thought he is jolted out of his thoughts by two idiots trying to squeeze through the room door at the same time.

“I think we are stuck…”

“Non, I can get us out!” Logan pushes the bag that was in between then onto the floor and they both go toppling over. Leo couldn’t help that laugh that flew out of his mouth. He walks over to help them out just to be pulled into the pile on the ground. Right on top of his baseball bag.

“Oh fuck! Bat in my ribs!”

“You brought a bat!?” Logan is looking at him like he's insane but helps him stand after pushing Finn off himself. “How are you going to use that on the ice?”

“Lo… he plays baseball, not hockey.” Logan rolls his eyes and just ‘blah blah blah’s behind Finn’s back. “Why did you bring it though? It’s going to be too cold to play.”

“Gryff has an indoor batting cage, I looked it up before we left. Shouldn’t you know everything here by now?” Leo starts laying the bags out in a line and opening them up to start organizing the room. Clothes are first.

“Lo doesn’t get out much.” He gets a swift smack to the chest with a pair of long socks from said hermit. Rubbing his chest he smiles. “I have no excuse. Where do you want these?” Holding up the third pair of boots he has found while rummaging in Leo’s bags he holds them up.

“By the wall please.”

“So polite. Logan, you could learn something from him.” Logan makes a sound of offense and was going to say something back in return but Leo turns on his speaker and starts playing some country yeehaw shit, it's growing on him and he won’t lie about it.

“I love this song.” Leo grabs Logan by the wrist and pulls him close, one hand on his waist and the other interlocking their fingers. Swaying to the beat he suddenly pulls away to grab Finn's hand and spins him into his chest while singing “If I gave you my hand, would you take it And make me the happiest man in the world? If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, Finn. Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea? Let me know if you're really a dream. I love you so, so would you go with me?”

Swinging Finn around as Logan watched in awe Leo is pulling away from Finn and holding his hand out to Logan. Breathing slightly heavy just smiling his bright chipped smile with his wild blue eyes. Logan can’t help but take his hand and let himself be spun so his back is to Leo’s chest as he mumbles those same words into his shoulder. “If I gave you my hand, would you take it? And make me the happiest man in the world? If I told you my heart couldn't beat one more minute without you, Lo. Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea? Let me know if you're really a dream. I love you so, so would you go with me?”

Hours of dancing and actual unpacking later, Logan had to leave to watch the kids while Celeste and Dumo head to their eye appointments. Leo was sprawled out on the sofa, mostly asleep, when he felt a kiss on his temple and heard some mumbling.

“I’m going on a run, I’ll be back. Okay?” Nodding a couple seconds later after the question sunk in, Leo gives him a quick peck on the lips and buries himself back into the couch.

When he wakes up Finn still isn’t back, his own phone is dead, and it's cold. He sets his feet on the ground after sitting up and a shiver runs through his body. Wrapping his arms around himself he walks to his new room and pulls on his thickest socks, that just happen to have a hole that his big toes catches on. He also decides to change into his one pair of sweats, the Lions ones from the hockey game, and the sweatshirt he wore with them. Putting the hood up and pulling it tight so just his face isn't covered, tying a little bow he doesn’t care how he looks, he’s warmish now.

Wandering into the kitchen and plugging his phone into an outlet in the island, he texts the boys asking what they want to eat, turning on the oven would feel nice. While he's waiting for a response he decided to look around. He walks into the living room where he was just napping to look at all the pictures Finn has of his team, family, friends and him and Logan.

Smiling he picks up a picture frame with Finn on some guy's back, Leo thinks his name is Kasey if he remembers properly. They are in a fountain but only Kasey is wet. He sets it down and picks up a picture that is not in a frame but just laying on the table. Odd. It is of Finn and Logan, they look younger and Logan has a blonde streak in his hair. They are smiling wider than Leo has ever seen them smile. Finn has his arm around Logan’s shoulder and Logan has his arm around Finn’s waist.

Their cheeks are pressed together. It’s sweet. Leo turns the picture over and reads what is written on the back.

‘The year I found the one.’

Leo smiles and sets the picture back down, walking over the wall that has pictures literally taped to it. He makes a mental note to buy some frames. He is taking in all the smiles of people he didn’t know, a man looking like Finn and Finn actually headbutting in a picture makes him laugh.

He hears his phone ding with a text notification, he makes his way over and notices the corner of a picture sticking out from under the couch. He pauses in his path and bends down to pick it up. It’s folded, but it’s a picture of Finn and Logan at the bonfire that Leo took them too. Leo unfolds the side of the picture and realises… there is a crease over his own face.

Ouch.

He folds the crease again and sees how it completely cuts him out of the picture. Leo actually has this same picture in the back of his phone case. Suddenly that tiny drop of doubt becomes flooding water filling up his head. Putting the picture down on the counter after he walks back over to the phone.

He opens his messages to the boys needing steak for dinner… maybe… Did they forget? He sighs and feels the doubt flooding from his brain to his heart. Shaky hands start some music to hopefully distract himself from the smell and texture of meat. Clicking his phone off he starts working on dinner.

Finn and Logan walk in the apartment together, laughing and still sweaty from the run that Logan joined Finn half way through. Taking off their shoes and setting Logan’s bag by the door, a heavenly smell fingers their nose holes.

They share a look of confusion for a moment when they realize the smell is actually steak… They thought Leo would have gotten the joke but maybe not. Maybe the ‘lol’ and ‘lmao definitely’ weren’t obvious enough. They make their way to the kitchen and hear the music and the sizzle of a pan.

They turn the corner to see Leo, looking rather sad. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks slightly green, he is watching a small steak cook in a pan with no emotion in those normally challenging eyes. His hair looks like he has ran his hands through it and gripped it so it is standing wildly on his head. His hood is tied but not on his head. He is slightly shivering from either it being cold or something else.

Finn was the first to approach him. Resting his hand gently on Leo’s as they hold the spatula with a death grip, he takes the tool away and tosses it towards the sink and having no clue where it landed. Logan has taken it upon himself to turn off the stove and move the pan off the heat.

“Leo?”

“Are you using me?” Leo just blurts out what he is thinking and automatically regrets it from the look of hurt on Finn’s face and the look of anger on Logan’s.

“Let's talk about this while we clean these.” Finn holds up Leo’s hand to inspect the tiny knife cuts he accidently got from chopping onions. Being pulled towards the bathroom, Leo is told to sit on the counter. He does. Logan takes the peroxide from Finn and wets a couple of cotton balls with it.

Scrunching his nose as Logan dabs his small nicks he looks up at Finn who is holding two boxes of bandages, one box is Bob the Builder theme and the other is Hello Kitty. Smiling Leo nods towards the Hello Kitty ones.

“What makes you think we are using you?” Leo zones out for a second, thinking about the song that is still playing in the kitchen and how they need to turn the music off. “Leo.” He remembers that he was being asked a question and clears his throat.

“I don’t know, It’s just that you guys were already together before I came into your relationship. I just feel like maybe I’m just here to piss people off or as some… I dunno fetish maybe. I know it hasn’t been super long but I thought that maybe you would have one or two pictures of me. And I saw the folded one where it’s folded over me…” He is avoiding looking at Logan at all costs.

“I can’t speak for Logan,” Finn cups his cheek and makes him look at him. “But I really really like you, and I’m definitely with you, for you.” Smiling at him Leo lets himself be kissed and melts into it. Pulling away they both look towards Logan, who seems to be lost for words.

“I can’t believe you would think of us like that!” Finn gives him a warning look and Logan takes a deep breath. “Sorry, I just- I’m not good at this type of stuff. I’m really bad at expressing my feelings and emotions, usually I show them in other ways.” He takes Leo's hand and plays with his fingers. “I’m sorry I just snapped a second ago, I’m used to Finn speaking for the both of us… but I’m realizing that makes us ‘one’ in this relationship when obviously there are two of us that really want you.” Leo smiled a little and lifted Logan's hand to his lips giving it a few kisses.

“I really like you too, Lo.” he smiles the tiniest smile and turns to look at Finn. “I like you too.”

Logan and Finn lean in to kiss Leo’s cheeks at the same time. Smiling, Leo lets himself receive the affection without worrying if it's real.

He can worry when he is alone.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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benedictscanvas · 4 years

Text

found - aaron hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k (i got a little carried away with this one!)

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, torture, serial killers, reader’s father was killed in a car crash, reader is the victim of emotional and (a small bit of) physical abuse from her mother, nice and fluffy ending

Request: i ADORE your writing. could you do a hotch x female reader where the reader works at the bau but comes from a really rich business family and a case comes in where her brother's gone missing because they want money from the family. they save him but the reader's mother belittles and slaps her, and the team stand up for her in front of her family and then later she goes to hotch's office and just some cute fluff because they've been in love with each other for years? ik it's weirdly specific lol

A/N: First of all, thank you! Also, never apologise for specific requests, it only means that I don’t have to think up an idea myself, haha, always a good thing! This one got away from me a little, but I just really loved how protective the team were of the reader here (especially my man Aaron). Love to you all, I hope none of you ever have to go through a situation like the one below <3

---

The weight in your stomach was beginning to ache now. Your mind was playing the events of the past few days over and over but you couldn’t work it out. You’d found him, you should be fine, and yet there was something still bothering you.

There was no way the BAU ever would have taken this case were it not for the connection you had to it, there was no point kidding yourself about that. It was on Tuesday morning that you had practically run through the bullpen towards Hotch’s office, ignoring the concerned voices of the members of your team and not bothering to knock as you burst in on him.

“It’s my brother,” you said, out of breath, clutching the door with a painfully tight grip as your chest heaved and Hotch stood from his desk. His face would have seemed as stoic as usual to most people, but you could see the worried lines around his eyes better than most people, “Someone’s taken him, I don’t know who, but they want money quickly and my mother won’t give them the money and-”

“Y/N,” he quieted you with his soft utterance of your name, and you gasped in for breath that you didn’t have. There were tears in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall, “We’ll get everyone in the conference room, okay? Tell us all at once.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together and wiping a shaky hand down your face. He didn’t question you. Didn’t question taking the case. You had hardly told him anything and he was dropping whatever the hell he had been doing, and even in your haze of fear you couldn’t appreciate him more.

“Thanks, Hotch,” you said quietly, and he simply nodded at you, resting a warm hand on your shoulder briefly as he passed you to gather the team together. Not five minutes later were you telling the team everything, from the rich parents you’d never previously mentioned to your brother’s disappearance, showing them a picture of the ransom note that had showed up on your mother’s doorstep that morning. Not thirty minutes later were you on a plane to your hometown, sat next to Hotch on the seat of four and listening to him and the team bouncing theories around.

It had taken three days to find him.

Three days of you being worried to the point of sickness. You’d thrown up multiple times. JJ had been there the first time, swiftly following you into the bathroom after the toe showed up in the mail. She held your hair back as you emptied your lunch into the toilet, your tears simultaneously streaming into the bowl. But the second time was after your mother refused for the fourth time to pay the ransom to save your brother. You only made it to a bin in an empty room in the police precinct, but Hotch was right behind you, rubbing your back with a firm hand.

You only found him in the end due to a connection Spencer made between the original ransom note and the note that came with the toe, an inconsistency that led Garcia to a name and you to an address. It all fell into place quickly, like it often did, and soon the two culprits were in cuffs, your brother was sent off in an ambulance and the case was closed with no lives lost. It should have been a good day.

But still, now, as you sat in the front seat as Hotch drove you to the hospital your brother had been taken to, your stomach was swirling with doubt and anxiety and you knew exactly why.

“You don’t look too happy,” he commented in a low voice, even though there was no one else in the SUV except for the two of you. As soon as your brother was taken away in the ambulance, your mother jumped in beside him and you were left on the pavement, before Hotch placed a hand on your back and jingled the keys beside you, spurring you into action, “Your brother will be fine, Y/N, they’re only taking him as a precaution.”

“Oh no, I know,” you said flippantly, turning to Hotch even though he kept his eyes on the road, “He’s a strong guy, he’ll take this in stride. There’s just something...else.”

You wondered whether you should tell him. It was a thought you dismissed as soon as it came. You and Hotch were close, closer than anyone else really realised, and if you told him there was no telling what he might want to do about it. There was nothing to be done, though, and so there was nothing to be said either.

“What is it?”

“I just-” you figured out your lie, needing it to be half-true so he wouldn’t see through it, “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet that he’s safe.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. It was a sign that he knew you were lying, that he was waiting for you to crack and tell him the truth. A trick he’d learned from you, actually. Sometimes, you stayed late with him to help him out with paperwork, try to get him home a little sooner and you talked. You talked a lot. And whenever you’d ask him how he was, or whether something was bothering him and he would lie you would nod and go silent, waiting for him to speak again and inevitably reveal the truth.

It wouldn’t work on you this time. Instead, the rest of the drive passed in a slightly uncomfortable silence and when you got out of the car, the two of you headed into the hospital without words. Guilt poked at your heart but you pushed it away as you were given directions to your brother’s room and took purposeful steps in that direction.

Just as you reached the door, you pushed open the door to join him, your mother and the nurse that was checking him over.

“Hey little-”

“Y/N!” your mother cried, rushing over to hurry you out of the room again and you caught a glimpse of your brother’s apologetic glance before she was shutting the door in your face, “Can we have a word?”

The weight in your stomach was getting heavier by the second.

“I’d really like to see my brother and check he’s okay,” you said, tone clipped and formal. You felt Hotch’s presence a little way behind you, watched your mother’s eyes flick between you and him with disdain.

“And I would really like a word with you,” she said, her voice different to how it had been. She had an audience now, you thought silently, and fought the urge to roll your eyes, “If you wouldn’t mind talking to your mother.”

She was trying to make you look bad and you knew it. You tried not to, but you could feel your embarrassment rising despite yourself. There was nothing to be embarrassed about and you knew it, but having Hotch there watching your mother talk to you like this, no doubt profiling you both made heat creep up the back of your neck.

“Then let’s find somewhere private-” you attempted but she cut you off.

“No, we talk here.”

It had been her favourite method of doing things when you were younger too. As soon as your dad died, she began subtly belittling you in the house. Blaming you for his death was the only way she seemed to move forward, even though you quickly accepted that just because you had been in the car when he died didn’t make you at all responsible.

But it was when you went out with her that she truly came into her own, having the free reign to humiliate you as publicly as possible, making sure that other people heard it. You hadn’t seen her in a few years. You’d forgotten how difficult it was, even now, to avoid reverting back into that childlike state when she looked at you like that.

“Mother-”

“Again. Again, someone has hurt our family and again, you are the one responsible. Do you enjoying seeing me suffer? Is that was this is, Y/N?”

You stared at your feet and set your jaw. It was difficult to know whether to shout at her, laugh in her face, or start sobbing on the ground. You’d tried all three before. Nothing worked. And now - oh god - and now the whole team had rushed into the hospital to check on you and your brother and you turned your head a little to see Hotch hold up a hand to stop them from saying anything behind him. You bit your lip. The taste of copper filled your mouth with a welcome, distracting bitterness.

“How could this possibly be my fault?” you asked incredulously, looking up and meeting her gaze with all the anger you held towards her for so much of your life, all the resentment. You hoped none of the fear shone through alongside it. Apparently, your rage meant nothing, as she simply laughed, the hollow sound a haunting nostalgic tune.

“You’re meant to be a fucking FBI agent, and yet your brother has come home without two of his toes and one of his fingers,” she said, still laughing, shaking her head in disbelief at you, “You couldn’t find him in time.”

You were seething.

“If we hadn’t found him in time, he’d be dead. Things don’t always end this well, mother. He’s lucky,” you ground out and she reared back, stung.

“Lucky? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“Mrs Y/L/N-” Hotch began, and you heard him take a small step forward behind you. You winced. You knew what was coming.

“Oh, Agent Hotchner,” she said, her tone sweet again and you felt your stomach churn. You were beginning to feel lightheaded. Your serial killer catching team were right there and you were being scolded by your mother. Don’t cry, you pleaded with yourself, “You must be so tired of dealing with my daughter and her lack of empathy. Thinking that her own brother is lucky when he’s been severely deformed, I mean, the lack of-”

“Severely deformed?” you said, chest heaving as you stared her down, “Sam is fine. He will be fine. He is not deformed. All thanks to me and my team. My amazing team, who do not want to see any of this so can we please-”

Part of you was hoping that maybe some of them would take your hint and leave, just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of your colleagues anymore, just so you wouldn’t have to handle them losing all their respect for you. But there were no footsteps.

“We’re not going anywhere. You’re not seeing your brother. I won’t let you hurt him more than you already have-”

“I have never hurt Sam in my life-”

“You know you’ve hurt him more than anyon-”

“For fuck’s sake, mother, I didn’t kill dad!”

She slapped you. Actually slapped you right across the face and your head whipped to the side. She’d never done that before. Perhaps she’d never had the heart when you were younger, or maybe you’d never actually said the words before, you didn’t know. You clutched your cheek as you kept your eyes downward and felt the tears staining your cheeks. Fuck.

You were already planning your resignation from the BAU in the stunned silence of the corridor.

JJ was first to run forward, putting an arm around you.

“Are you okay?” she murmured in your ear and you simply nodded, shrugging her away from you a little in your embarrassment.

“Don’t you ever mention your father to me,” she said, her voice dangerous, but you still hadn’t looked up, couldn’t fathom giving her the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You wanted to scream at her, slap her right back, maybe slam her against the wall but you knew none of it would help. You hardly had any dignity left as it was.

“You know what, Mrs Y/L/N,” Dave spoke up into the silence and you closed your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t say anything too bad, “I was wondering why you wouldn’t pay the ransom. I thought maybe it was the principle, or perhaps you were worried they’d just ask for more. But, I get it now.”

“Yeah, me too, Rossi,” Derek chimed in, “Now it’s easy to understand. Your kids simply aren’t worth anything to you.”

“Excuse me?” your mother’s voice was higher in pitch and part of you was worried she might slap them, but you knew she didn’t have it in her. JJ was still hovering behind you.

“You have two wonderful children, Mrs Y/L/N,” Emily continued, “Sam’s a doctor, the perfect child and yet the only value he has to you is in the bragging rights he provides.”

“And Y/N? She’s one of the best agents in the bureau. She cares about people-” Spencer’s voice cracked and you blinked out a fresh wave of tears, “-she cares so much. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. If you can’t see that, then it’s your loss.”

You finally stood up straight and looked to your team with eyes full of shame. Your cheek was no doubt a different colour to the rest of your face, tear stains galore, eyes puffy. No moment was worse, than seeing them all staring at you with pity in their eyes, and yet the warmth you felt radiating from them was stronger than any feeling you’d ever had from your family. This was your family, after all. Your real family.

“Y/N’s one of the best people I’ve ever met too.”

“Same here.”

“Me too.”

Came the replies from your team. You let out a shaky exhale as you stared at them. Thanking them and apologising to them all at once with just the look in your eyes. Your mother was still silent, clearly shocked that anyone could possibly care about you like this, let alone a whole group of people.

“She’s the best person I’ve ever met,” Hotch spoke up and when your eyes snapped to his, you didn’t see pity. You saw that fiery anger that he usually reserved for the lowest of the low. And yet now, he was staring at your mother with that stare that made killers recoil in their seats. She looked horrified, “And she’s going in that room to see her brother. You will go outside and wait until we’ve left. Then, and only then, can you come back inside this building.”

“But-”

“That’s an order from a federal agent, Mrs Y/L/N,” his voice was hard and unfaltering and you saw his hands clenched at his sides, longed to prise them open and slip your fingers in between his, “Rest assured that if I ever hear you speak to Y/N like that again, I will make your life a living hell. You’re a lawyer, right? I pull some strings, and you’ll be out of a job before you can blink.”

“She’s my daughter and I will-”

“Go outside.”

You surprised yourself when you spoke up. But the anger that boiled inside you had bubbled to the surface and now, there was no stopping you. Your team were behind you, literally, figuratively, in every way possible. It was enough. You weren’t a child anymore.

“Y/N-”

“I said, go outside. I don’t want to see you again, are we clear? We’re done,” when she just stood there dumbfounded, you pointed towards the exit and took a step towards her, your heart leaping when she took a step backwards, “Leave.”

And just like that, she left. She had to walk past every member of your team on her way and they refused to move out of her way, so she had to squeeze past each and every one, mumbling to herself the entire time.

She was gone and silence enveloped the little corridor to the private room yet again.

“And don’t come back,” Dave muttered, causing you to finally crack a smile in his direction, which in turn made him smile, and the rest of the team, even though they were hesitant. You wanted to say thank you, but you weren’t sure you had the words. You were so damn tired.

“Hey,” JJ spoke up beside you, a hand on your shoulder, “Go see your brother. You want to stay for a while? We can hold the jet.”

You shook your head.

“I’ll see him quickly,” you said, “I just want to go home.”

Everyone smiled again, more sympathetically and Hotch spoke up, his voice back to his normal voice around you. It was your favourite version of him. Soft.

“We’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

You nodded gratefully, turning and heading into the room without another word, because you didn’t have anymore. You just said a quick hello to your brother, gave him a tight hug. You’d never been close, the torment you’d been put through by your mother he had been immune from and it had put a rift between you. You’d never understand each other. But he was your brother, and you loved him all the same, so you wished him well and told him to call more often. When you left the room, true to their word, the team were still there and led you out of the hospital to the SUVs, shielding you with their bodies from your mother outside. You didn’t even see her.

There was no talking in the SUV. Hotch drove, Derek in the front beside him and you sat in the back with JJ. She insisted. Halfway to the jet, she reached over and grabbed your hand, not even looking over at you and you squeezed it gently. You were grateful for the grounding touch.

It was only back on the jet that someone spoke up. Hotch was busy in the kitchen. But everyone else was sat around. You were sat beside Spencer at the table, with JJ and Rossi opposite. Derek was sat on the couch nearby and Emily perched on an arm rest just so she wasn’t sat too far from you.

“When did it start, Y/N?” Derek asked once the plane had been in the air for a while, earning some sharp looks from JJ and Emily but you waved them away.

“It’s okay, guys, it’s not like I can hide it now,” you said, having calmed down significantly on the drive to the jet, JJ’s touch and the hum of the engine comfort enough to decrease your heart rate, bring you back to earth. Your shame was still there, but you had tucked it away for later. Right now, you wanted to salvage as much of yourself as you could, “As you guys know, my dad was killed in a crash when I was 12. But what you don’t know, is that I was in the car and that my mother blamed me for it. She made everyday after a living hell. I moved out as soon as I could and never looked back. I’ve not seen her much since, just family events and such, but she’s always the same.”

They all had varying looks of anger and sadness. Spencer asked the question on everyone’s minds.

“Has she ever…?”

You didn’t make him finish, because you knew the words would be difficult for him.

“Hurt me before? No, she hasn’t. I don’t know what was different this time,” you shrugged, subconsciously reaching up to gently touch your cheek, “I don’t think I’ve ever said outright that I didn’t kill him before.”

“But you know you didn’t, right?” Emily asked without thinking and you smiled at her.

“I’ve always known that,” you said honestly, “It would have been so much worse if I’d believed her, but I always knew she was wrong.”

Hotch emerged from the kitchen with an ice pack and you smiled at him a little, relaxing when he offered a small smile in return. You expected him to hand it to you, but to your surprise he sat on your armrest right next to you, your arm pressed against his side. He brushed your hair away from your face with gentle fingers and placed the icepack on your cheek, apologising under his breath when you winced from the cold sting.

“That’s what you were worried about in the car then,” he mused aloud, gaining the attention of everyone on the plane, “You knew what was coming.”

“Somehow, I did,” you grimaced, looking up at him, “And I’m sorry you had to see it,” you looked around at everyone, “I’m sorry you all had to see it. It’s so embarrassing and degrading and...well I understand that your perception of me must have changed but I assure you-”

“Woah, woah,” Derek interrupted, “The only way my perception of you has changed, honey, is that you’re stronger than any of us knew.”

When you looked at everyone else around the plane, they were in agreement with Derek, it was clear. You felt yourself welling up again, and cursed your weakness.

“I can’t thank you guys enough for what you said about me,” you began, voice shaky, “It just...it means a lot. I’ve never had a real family before.”

“Well, now you do,” Dave said simply, watching you with those kind eyes of his. You nodded with a smile before Spencer produced a blanket from behind you, offering it up to you if you wanted to sleep. You accepted gratefully, laughing a little when Spencer and Hotch on either side of you helped to tuck it around you snugly. Your laugh was a sign to the team that they could relax. That you’d be fine. As you fell asleep, you felt Hotch lean into you a little more, still holding the icepack on your face, and the knowledge he was there was enough to lull you into slumber.

---

Spencer woke you gently and told you that you’d landed. There was no one left on the plane, but you’d trapped him into the window seat. He waved you off when you apologised.

“You’re really important to us, Y/N,” he said, letting a few walls down now that everyone else had gone. You knew it must’ve been hard for him to hear her say those things to you. You’d talked about childhood bullying before, helped him to work through his own without telling him your experience. He’d probably feel guilty that he hadn’t known, but you pulled him into a rare hug.

“You’re important to me too, Spence,” you said, knowing that he’d really meant it personally. You felt his smile against your shoulder and grinned at him sleepily when you pulled away, both of you making your way off the jet. You walked into the office and shared compulsory hugs with the rest of the team, including Dave who you didn’t think you’d ever hugged before. When the hugging was over and people began to make their way home, you looked up at his office.

Hotch.

He was leaning against his desk. Not working. You knew he was waiting for you, so you hopped up the steps and let yourself in without knocking, letting the door close behind you with a soft click.

As soon as the door was closed, his shoulders fell and his posture became hunched.

“Hearing her talk to you like that…”

He trailed off and your heart melted. You walked towards him and rested your hands tentatively on his biceps, feeling the muscles relax at your touch.

“Hotch,” you breathed, “We’re home now.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” he said, eyes flashing upwards to meet yours and that anger seemed to be back, but it was directed inward, “She was saying all this crap about you and I didn’t even do anything, I didn’t want to intrude but then she- she slapped you, Y/N.”

He was talking in facts, a trick he used to take the emotion out of situations in which he got too emotional. You recognised it in an instant. The small protective edge he had for you was one that you shared for him, so you noticed these things. Made a habit of it.

“I know,” you said, nodding, “But that icepack did the trick in bringing the swelling down- look.”

You reached down and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to rest on your face. You knew it wouldn’t hurt. His touch was so hesitant around you, always worried to overstep a mark that you wanted him to leap over. Now, seeing him care about you made you bolder than you had been with him in the years you’d loved him.

You’d realised you loved him, actually, really loved him about two years ago. It had been three for him. Two beings hopelessly devoted to one another, yet kept apart by paralysing fear. You were kind of over it.

You leaned into his hand, but he was the one who closed his eyes and relished in the touch.

“You took care of me,” you whispered into the relative darkness of his office, lit only by the soft glow of the overhead lamp, “See?”

He shook his head with a gulp.

“Shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.”

“What could you have done?” you asked, smiling, “Slapped my mother first?”

He cracked a smile at that and his chuckles joined your own giggles in a few seconds.

“I wouldn’t have done that,” he insisted and brought his other hand up to cup your other cheek in an act of boldness spurred on by your own. Perhaps he was tired of not just being with you too. God, you hoped so, “You looked so...ashamed afterwards and you had nothing to be ashamed about. All I- all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and take you away from there.”

He’d never spoken like this before. You basked in his words, enjoying the pleasant tingling that had erupted down your spine. You were feeling lightheaded again, but this time you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“A nice thought,” you hummed, “I think I could get used to being in your arms.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think so,” you were breathless as you leaned closer to him, because now you’d had some of him it would never be enough. You needed it all. You needed every bit of him, because now you knew it could be yours if he said it. You needed him to say it.

“You wanna know something?”

“I really, really do.”

You were getting closer with every word. Breathier with every passing second.

“I’ve loved you for years,” his lips brushed against yours as he whispered the key to his soul, “And nothing hurts me more than seeing you in pain.”

You closed your eyes and brushed your lips against his again, fleeting, a promise.

“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” you gave him your soul in return, because it was the fair thing to do, after all.

He pressed his lips against yours properly, for the first time. All at once, the world tilted and you had found a new course for the future, one where you hoped Hotch - Aaron, as you moaned when he began a path of kisses along your jaw - would keep kissing you like this for a lifetime.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fluff #hotch x reader #hotch

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owl-with-a-pen · 3 years

Note

What if Nia had gotten so angry at lex after what happened with brainy, she went to go try and kill him? 😳 and brainy had to stop her. We’ve seen the dark side of brainy before but never in Nia really, discluding “reality bytes”

- Oooh, I like this idea a lot! I brought a few more characters into play for this as well, hope you don’t mind!

“I’m gonna kill him.”

Nia stormed past Kara for the third consecutive time, swivelling on her foot just shy of hitting the far wall so that she could continue pacing across Lena’s lab. Her hands were clenched so tightly together that her fingers were beginning to burn, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was ending Lex’s sorry existence once and for all.

“Nia,” Kara cut in, taking a placating step forward, “just think for a second-”

“You can’t stop me, Kara,” Nia snarled. She knew she’d gained something of an audience since Lena and Alex had returned from the recovery room, could feel their eyes tracking her every movement, but just thinking about who they’d been tending to, the state he’d been in when they’d found him in Leviathan’s ship, made the anger inside her chest that much more vitriolic. There was a pressure growing inside her skull, throbbing along to the beat of her heart. She stopped short, jerking her arm in the direction Lena and Alex had come from. “Look what he did to Brainy. Months of hurting him, putting him through god knows what!”

“And you have every reason to be angry,” Kara said gently.

Nia snorted, rolling her eyes. “Great, ‘cuz I was totally asking for your permission.”

“Nia-”

“No.” Nia turned to Kara then, jaw clenched tight. “Y’know what? No. You don’t have a right to tell me I’m wrong here. Lex kills people, Kara, did you think of that, huh? Did you think of who Brainy might have helped Lex kill? What Lex might have made him do?” Nia could feel tears burning in her eyes, could taste a thickness in her throat, but she forced every bit of strength into her voice regardless. “None of us stopped that.”

“None of us knew,” Alex muttered.

“And who’s fault is that?” Nia shot back, whirling on Alex accusingly. “Brainy’s? Or maybe, maybe the truth is, it was ours. I ignored my dreams and we all, we all ignored him!” Nia sucked air through her teeth. She knew she was trembling, but seeing those concerned looks on her friends’ faces did nothing to cool the fire welling inside of her. She swallowed hard, ignoring the iron tang in the back of her mouth, and drew out a slow breath. “But, most importantly,” she said carefully, “it’s Lex’s fault. This is all Lex’s fault.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” Lena said. Her expression had been especially still throughout Nia’s tirade, although something about it now looked distinctly uneasy. “But, Brainy was careful. I saw him-” Lena cringed suddenly, looking away.

Nia knew why, just as well as anyone else in the room did. Lena had known Brainy had been working for Lex – for months - and she hadn’t said a word. She’d kept his secret. No, no, she hadn’t kept his secret, she hadn’t cared about it.

“It was only brief,” Lena said quickly, glancing back to her, “but during that time, he promised me that no one would be harmed whilst he aided with Lex’s schemes. He wouldn’t have broken his code, Nia. Not even for Lex; I’m certain.”

“You killed him.”

“What?”

Nia stared at Lena coldly. “You shot him, right? You shot your brother in the heart and you didn’t think about it. Because it was justice.”

“It wasn’t justice-” Kara tried desperately.

“I’m not talking to you!” Nia gritted. She didn’t even spare Kara a passing glance. All of her attention was devoted to Lena. “Let her talk.”

Lena’s eyes were bright, shimmering things. Still, she didn’t look away this time. Instead, her lips twitched into sharp smile. “What do you want me to say?” she asked coldly. “That killing my brother was cathartic, that it closed old wounds that I thought might never heal?” She raised her chin. “No, you want the whole truth. That my actions stopped a threat that would have continued relentlessly unless someone had the nerve to take that shot. To leave his lifeless body to rot with the worms like he deserved.”

Kara made a pained sound in the back of her throat.

Lena glanced at her. “Don’t get me wrong,” she said plainly. “I don’t condone this. But, not because I don’t agree with her.” Lena turned back to Nia, her brow furrowed. “Nia, taking a person’s life is something you can never take back.”

Nia bared her teeth. “And yet, that’s exactly what the Anti Monitor did.” She gestured at Lena frankly, feeling wayward strands of dream energy snap and spark between her fingers. “Absolve you, or whatever.”

“I’d kill my brother again without a moment’s hesitation,” Lena said stiffly, lifting herself to her full height. “But, we can still stop him without resorting to that.” Her expression softened. “Even if we couldn’t, my actions, they aren’t yours. Nia, you don’t have the stomach for this. You shouldn’t.”

Nia clenched her hands again, feeling her energy pool into every digit. Vibrant blue light simmered against her palms. “No offence, Lena, but you don’t know anything about what I’m capable of right now.”

“Nia?”

Nia faltered, the shock of her power dimming as she half turned to meet the new voice behind her back.

Brainy was stood in the lab’s entryway, his shoulder pressed heavily against the wall. If the frailness of his expression was anything to go by, Nia was certain it was the only thing keeping him from keeling over.

His green skin was still far too pale to be healthy, and his blond hair clung to the side of his jaw with cold sweat, but he was awake. He was…

Why was he awake?

Between the two of them, Lena and Alex had been able to help along Brainy’s natural healing process using a cocktail of experimental drugs, the names of which Nia wasn’t even going to try to pronounce. But Brainy’s IV wasn’t present, instead she could see an angry looking bruise already beginning to blossom over the delicate skin on his left hand.

The dream energy dissolved from Nia’s hands in an instant, rocketing back towards her chest so quickly that she nearly choked. She rushed over to him, reaching tentatively for his arm.

This close, she could see the shadows that had sunk into his cheek bones, the red veins that still branched along the whites of his eyes. He held one arm protectively around his chest, clenched between the steady glow of his three life projectors.

“Brainy,” Nia said breathlessly, running her hand carefully along his arm, desperate to offer any kind of support she could. “You shouldn’t be up.”

Brainy clenched his teeth, lowering his head. “I-I overheard…” he managed.

It took her a second, but although his eyes were heavy lidded, Nia realised that Brainy was looking down at her hands, at the vibrant energy she’d summoned only moments ago. Something heavy settled inside her stomach at that look.

“Nia,” Brainy continued softly. “You- you don’t need to do this.”

A pained laugh caught in Nia’s throat. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Brainy smiled tiredly, lifting his head with clearly more energy than he had to expend. Nia ached to do something for him, to take that hurt away, but the anger inside of her no longer burned like fire. Instead, it twisted deep in her gut, churning together with every bit of fear she’d been trying to hold down since the moment they’d gotten Brainy out of Leviathan’s clutches.

“Killing Lex…” Brainy said, meeting Nia’s eyes. “It will not take back what I did. I worked for him of my own volition, he didn’t force me into anything.”

Nia swallowed hard, closing her eyes.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Brainy said earnestly. “But, please, don’t channel that anger into something this destructive. Lena is right. Taking a life is never worth it. There is always a better way.”

Nia’s eyes shot open at that. She blinked quickly, shaking her head. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m not mad at you.”

When Brainy only stared at her, Nia felt the twist in her stomach sour even further. She gritted her teeth, blinking back against the sudden burn in her eyes. “I- I don’t want to be,” she said weakly.

“It’s okay.”

Nia startled at the feel of Brainy’s fingers brush against her free hand. She clenched the one around his arm in response. “It’s not okay,” she gritted. “It wasn’t your fault. I-”

“From what I understand,” Brainy said, “emotions do not always make sense. But that does not make them any less real.”

For a long moment, Nia couldn’t say a word against him. Because, as much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She was angry, so angry, but she was also terrified and sick and hollow. There was a bitter hole in her heart, one that had only continued to grow in the months since Brainy had broken up with her. He’d barely spoken to her since, had hardly stood to be in the same room as her at all. The closest they’d gotten was work-related interactions and even then, he’d been so distant, like a part of him hadn’t even been there.

And when she’d seen Brainy in Leviathan’s ship, every single piece of bitterness had surged to life in a united front to keep her grounded, to keep her away from every other emotion threatening to tear her apart. It had warped into a violent rage, an acrid burn inside her lungs, fuelling her on this fruitless pursuit to, what? Kill Lex? As though that’d make her feel better, as though any of this would make her feel better?

Nia couldn’t find it in her to say that all out loud. Instead, she sniffed hard, biting her lip. “You left me alone,” she said lowly. “And that killed me.”

“I know,” Brainy said, his voice pained. “It… it killed me too, and I know this isn’t enough, that it won’t take away the hurt, but I am so, so sorry, Nia Nal.” His eyes fluttered suddenly, and he closed them quickly, lowering his head. “I will always be sorry.”

Nia knew this wasn’t the right time to have this conversation. Brainy’s complexion was already losing the little colour he’d gained; his jaw was tight with discomfort, and as a harsh shudder ran up his spine, she watched as he lost the last of his composure, leaning his head against the wall with a weak grimace.

Nia wasn’t sure what she was feeling in that moment, but when Brainy’s legs nearly gave out, she didn’t hesitate. Her arms were wrapped around his back before she even knew that she was moving forward, burying her face securely into the side of his neck. His skin was sticky with cold sweat, but she didn’t care, she only hugged him fiercer, unable to keep a sob from heaving its way out of her throat.

“It will be enough,” she whispered, feeling as Brainy slowly began to relax into her embrace. “It’ll just take some time.”

There was more she wanted to say now. The words practically thundered inside her ears, clawing to be let out. Words like, how much she loved him, how she’d never stopped loving him, but how even that couldn’t take away the resentment she’d stored against herself, against him, for leaving her without a proper explanation, for making her feel like her feelings were unwarranted, unreciprocated.

But her throat was tight, and the only sounds she was able to make were the harsh gasps as her chest hitched and fell outside of her control. She could hear Brainy’s pulse beating away against her cheek, the moisture of his own tears wetting strands of her hair.

All she wanted to do was hold on and never, ever let go.

Brainy didn’t say a word, either. Although, for him, it was for a far more pressing reason. His breathing was already beginning to strain against her shoulder, and when he suddenly dipped dangerously in her arms, Nia strengthened her hold around him, leaning them both against the wall to support their combined weights.

“So, does this mean no one’s murdering anyone anymore?” Alex asked from across the room.

Nia’s chest clenched. She’d totally forgotten that her reunion with Brainy had been met with an audience. She lifted her head from his shoulder, blinking against the brightness of the room before turning towards her friends.

Alex was already on her way over to them, her eyes reviewing every inch of Brainy in both parts medical and familial concern. Kara and Lena hovered awkwardly together, seemingly aware that crowding Brainy right now might not be the best plan.

Nia met Kara’s gaze warily, offering her an apologetic wince. “I…” she began.

“It’s okay,” Kara said softly, her eyes creasing with a smile.

Nia sighed, shaking her head. “Okay,” she said levelly. “Maybe, maybe we don’t have to kill him. But the next cell we put that asshole in, he’s never getting out of.”

Kara’s smile widened into a grin. “Now, that’s a plan I can get behind.”

“First thing’s first,” Alex cut in, rousing Brainy enough that he was able to glance blearily up from Nia’s shoulder. She pressed the back of her hand against his forehead, narrowing her eyes at the result. “You’re telling me what the hell you did with your IV. Then, you’re going back to bed.”

Brainy nodded weakly, mumbling a quiet apology, although Nia knew Alex wasn’t looking for one. In fact, she was pretty certain she’d heard Alex forgive Brainy at least a dozen times over while he’d still been delirious from the radiation.

Nia chuckled, helping Alex manoeuvre Brainy’s weight back down the hall.

“C’mon Wildcat,” she murmured into his ear. “We’ve got you.”

Maybe they hadn’t had a chance to get everything out in the open just yet, but they would.

Once Brainy was healthy and rested, they’d have all the time in the world.

#supergirl #supergirl fanfiction #brainia #supergirl season 6 #nia nal #brainiac 5 #dreamdox #kara danvers #alex danvers #lena luthor #kara zor el #lol is anyone keeping count of how many different ways i've written brainy getting saved from leviathan yet?#it's .. many #but all the season 6 hype is finally giving me a bit of that hurt/comfort writer's fuel #also. don't ever yank your IV out kids. it's a bad time. dont do it.

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beatlebachelor · 3 years

Text

May I? : Cedric diggory x reader

summary: your Cedrics best friend and you begin to realise your genuine feelings for him after he enters the Tri-wizard tournament only to find out he feels the same. hufflepuff reader!

Warnings: possibly fluffy?

Word count: 2,257

Y/N - your name

Y/E/C - your eye colour

This is my first time writing one of these so if there is any way you think i could improve please feel free to give suggestions!

Its Monday morning, 9:10 to be precise, me and my friends Cedric, Hermione, Harry and Ron were all sat down having breakfast in the great hall. Despite the fact me and Cedric were in Hufflepuff and the other three were Gryffindor we always sat together. Cedric was two years older than us and did get teased about hanging out with third years but it didn’t bother him, he enjoyed our company. I often hoped he favoured mine especially.

After everyone had finished their food Dumbledore stood up to do his weekly Monday morning speech, but it felt different this morning. “Is that Bartemius Crouch?” Hermione inquired. “Who?” Harry said cautiously. As Hermione went to answer she was quickly interrupted by Dumbledore as his voice bellowed through to the other side of the hall.

“Today, I get to announce something very special and to help me we have Sir Bartemius Crouch from The Ministry of Magic. Hogwarts has been selected to host a famous wizarding event. The Tri-Wizard Tournament!” suddenly there were many whistles, cheers and whispers coming from all four tables, me and Cedric looked at each other in immense delight but everything suddenly stopped when Dumbledore spoke again. “There have been some new rules put in place this year to ensure more safety for our students, after all this is a very dangerous competition. Sir Bartemius Crouch, if you will” a few small whispers formed from different areas of the hall. Ron whispered to us all “if any of you enter this competition ill be praying for you, this tournament is the real thing, so many people that have entered this died just from the first round” What Ron said shook me up a little, part of me knew that Cedric would give into whatever temptation he had to enter.

After all the whispers had finished Bartemius walked up to stand beside Dumbledore. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket where he had obviously written a speech. The room began to feel slightly tense. “From this year onward those who enter and compete in the Tri-wizard tournament must be at least 17 years old-” He was suddenly cut off by the majority of the hall shouting and screaming at him. Me, Harry, Hermione and Ron weren't phased by the new rule. None of us were of age anyway and if we were we wouldn’t have entered. Cedric however appeared to be very pleased with himself, he was 17, he could compete, he wasn’t my boyfriend or anything but id known him for ages. What if he entered and got hurt, I don’t want to stop him from doing something he is interested in though because that wouldn’t be fair.

When we all left the hall I went straight to dark arts, I didn’t speak a word to Cedric in fear that if I did I would just break down and cry. I didn’t want to ruin anything for him because I could tell from the look in his eyes that he wanted to win that cup, and if he wanted it then I would want it for him. After all I was his closest friend, friend... that never felt nice to say.

In dark arts I could barely focus, all I could think about was if I liked Cedric, I had known him for so long and never thought about whether how I felt about him was more than just friendship. I mean would it be so bad if I liked him? I couldn’t get him out of my head. UGGGGHHH this is so frustrating. The thought always did cross my mind about how perfect his face was, everything about him in fact, I couldn’t think of a single flaw no matter how hard I tried.

By the time lunch came I still hadn't made up my mind on if I actually fancied Cedric, I mean come on, am I really going to be like every other girl in this school and fall for his charm. And as if he’d ever like me back, by the looks of it he’s probably into one of the Beaxbatons Academy girls just like the rest of the boys in this place. In all fairness it is rather enjoyable to watch them walk, how do they always look like they are floating? Besides the point! Hopefully I'm just unwell, surely that’s the only explanation.

I went straight back to the common room, anything to avoid Cedric, even if it was missing lunch. However, it appeared my plan to avoid Cedric had failed when I walked in to see him sat on the sofa next to the fire. Just him, no one else. “Are you ok?” I asked with a shake in my voice. “Y/N I wanted to talk to you. We have been friends for ages which is why I want your opinion, I trust you” I felt a small flutter of butterflies in my stomach and proceeded to say “you trust me? I mean emm what is it?” that made me feel rather embarrassed. “Well, I was thinking of entering the Tri-wizard tournament but i know how dangerous it is and idk if I'm capable of the magic I will need to protect myself. I also don’t want to hurt anyone if something bad were to happen to me” A horrible feeling formed in my stomach and slowly moved to my throat. The thought of Cedric getting hurt made me feel sick. “Cedric don’t be silly. Your one of the most talented wizards in this whole school and you seriously think you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself. If its what you want then we all want it for you and I will help in whatever way I can to ensure you win” I said that full of confidence, I really did mean it, every word. “Youve always been there for me Y/N, I genuinely don't know what I would do without you” He pulled me in for a hug, I always loved our hugs, my head would always fall in the right place on his chest. He smells so good, almost a musky bark smell with a hint of vanilla. I wondered if he thought the same.

A week passed and it was time for the champions on the Tri-wizard tournament to be announced. First the champion of Beaxbatons, Fleur Delacour. Next the Durmstrang champion, Victor Krum. As the paper for the Hogwarts champion floated down into Dumbledores hand my stomach sunk but then I felt a slight warmth on my hand, I looked down and it was Cedric. He had interlocked his fingers into mine and was gently squeezing them with excitement, I turned to him and smiled he looked directly into my eyes with a slight smirk as his cheeks flushed pink.

Dumbledore read out the name on the paper “And finally the Hogwarts champion is, Cedric Diggory” Cedrics face lit up with pure joy, so did mine, his iridescent blue eyes glistening. He hugged me so tightly for only about 2 seconds, but there it was again, that smell, his scent makes me feel so warm inside. He let go and stood up to go shake Dumbledores hand. Everyone was cheering, mainly the girls, of course it was the girls.

Another week went by and we had been preparing for his first task, dragons, I don’t know what would've happened to Cedric if Harry didn't tip him off. We practised basic spells on how to defend himself against them for hours and hours. Now we would have to see if he remembered them. Whilst in the tent I stayed with Cedric, he asked me to, his words were “your the only one who can keep me calm” After he had picked out his dragon the canon went off, Cedrics eyes glazed over slightly as he turned and gently kissed me on the forehead. He had never done that before, maybe it was just out of nerves. So many thoughts rushed through my head, surely Cedric didn’t like me? By the time I had gathered my thoughts he had already gone. I ran to my place in the audience, right next to Hermione. She asked what took me so long. I didn’t want to tell her but at the same time I did, I gave her a brisk hug and began to watch Cedric in hope that he would succeed and taking the egg.

Cedric managed to complete the first task unharmed within what seemed about 15 minutes. I was so proud of him. When we were all back at the common room I realised I needed to talk to Cedric, about all the hugs and the forehead kiss and most importantly, how I felt, I waited for everyone to head to their rooms and asked Cedric to stay behind. We sat on the sofa with the fire crackling beside us. “I'm so happy you passed the first challenge, I'm really impressed” I paused for a second thinking of how I was meant to say what I needed to say, but then he cut me off. “Y/N, about earlier, when I kissed you on your forehead, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Recently Ive realised how much you mean to me and I don’t want to do anything that your not ok with. I'm sorry if this is forward but I really do like you, its everything about you. Your hair, your smell, your Y/E/C eyes. I'm sorry I sound so stupid right now” A rush of emotions came over me, was I hearing this correctly, did I fall asleep and I'm actually just dreaming. “Cedric, I feel exactly the same, I didn’t want to tell you in case you didn’t feel the same way and then it was too awkward to continue being friends. That’s why I asked you to stay down here with me for a bit” Cedrics cheeks were bright red and he had a happy/embarrassed expression on his face, I could tell mine was doing the exact same. He held onto my hand again, it felt so natural, I usually wasn’t all for the idea of being touched often but when Cedric did it everything felt ok.

A couple hours passed whilst we were just chatting and even played a game of wizards chess. After I began to get tired he walked me to my room holding my hand all the way. When I got to the door he stopped. ”Y/N would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me” I didn’t even have to think “Yes Cedric, I would” He hugged me and let me go into my room.

We practised for the dance for the next two weeks, it was so fun, we rarely took it seriously but that was what made it even better.

Finally, I hope our practise for the dance was worth while considering I have two left feet. I had just finished getting ready, I wore a flowy light blue dress with a few pale pink and beige tones. As I walked down the stairs I bumped into Hermione. She looked so beautiful, her hair was so perfectly done and she was wearing the prettiest pink dress. Had I not made a big enough effort? We continued to walk down the stairs and I noticed Krum was waiting for Hermione, I couldn’t see Cedric so I stood and waited with them both for a bit. And then, there he was, he looked as handsome as ever in his dress robes, a wide smile formed on his face when he looked at me. He slowly walked over “you look absolutely stunning Y/N” he said whilst gently holding onto both of my hands. “Don't look too shabby yourself” I said with a little giggle, he laughed too, he always did tell me that my laugh was contagious.

Once everyone was gathered in the great hall the champions and their partners were ordered to enter as we were the first to dance. We took position. Staring into Cedrics eyes as he held onto my waist made me feel as if we were the only two people in the room, I wasn’t worried, in fact I didn’t feel anything but joy. The music began and we set off. The more I continued to look into his eyes the more natural the dancing felt. Every time he lifted me into the air butterflies formed in my stomach, my dream was always to be able to dance in a ball with a gorgeous boy and now, my dream was coming true.

As the night grew longer me and Cedric remained in the hall dancing for hours upon hours. Eventually we sat down “Tonight has been really fun Y/N” he started “i actually have something to ask you, well Ive been meaning to ask it for a while now actually.” There was only one thing on my mind “sure go ahead” Cedric slowly stood up holding my hand causing me to stand up too. He gently moved the hair from out of my face and put it behind my ear and the proceeded to place his hand on my cheek. His hands were so soft, I could feel the warmth on my skin. My heart was beating so fast. I saw him open his mouth as if he was too scared to say what he wanted to. “May I kiss you” he said silently in a slightly shaky voice. I leaned in closer to him, my lips very nearly touching his. “...yes”

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maysbanks · 4 years

Text

she moves in her own way. (jj maybank)

due to the ASTOUNDING response to my first jj fic which i have to say a huuuge thank you to everyone that liked, commented & reblogged, it honestly means the absolute world !! i couldn't wait much longer to start writing for my boy again, i have so many fic ideas and cannot wait to get them out to y'all. this one is shorter than the last, & the title is inspired from the song 'she moves in her own way' by the kooks (lol) but isn't necessarily based off of it, it's just something that i wrote up quickly bc i was in my feels™️ . also i feel very unoriginal with the whole plot and aspect of this but im gonna post it anyway bc i love jj lmao. anyway hope u enjoy !

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drug use, violence, jj with a gun™️

summary: reader walks the fine line between either pogue or kook, though technically a kook, she ignores all social standings of the obx and jj maybank cannot stop himself from getting caught up in her whirlwind.

( gif isn’t mine! please let me know if it’s yours so i can credit you. )

Everyone seemed to have a different perspective of you, unsurprisingly. You weren't really much of a social butterfly, you kept yourself to yourself, really. Nobody in the Outer Banks knew much about you at all, other than what they had come up with in their heads. And while you tried your best to stay in the shadows, that only seemed to make you stand out more.

You were known for being the best of both worlds - not really a Pogue, but not really a Kook either. While your social status and family wealth suggested you to be a Kook, your free spirit and reckless behaviour fitted you better towards the Pogue style. If anyone were to ask you, you told them you were neither.

Why should a name define you anyway? You thought it was all bullshit, the stupid territorial arguments and the snide comments from both sides. You thought it was ridiculous, you weren't living in The Outsiders, for fuck sake.

You moved in your own way, simple as that. You wouldn't let anyone tell you what to do, where you can't or shouldn't be, it was a free country you'd say, middle finger salute ready to aim towards anyone who dared cross you. You were an enigma, wild and careless, unforgiving and unforgettable. You didn't necessarily like the attention, but you got it. And you knew it, and you played on it, too.

You had used your irresistible charm more than enough times to bail JJ Maybank out of trouble, despite your parents' protest. They didn't have a problem with the Pogues, persay, how could they when your dad been one half of his life before meeting your mom and marrying into the rich lifestyle; they just had a problem with JJ, as many of the parents on the island did. He was an unstoppable force to be reckoned with, weed smoking, knuckles constantly torn, skin bruised, quick wit, sarcastic humour, daddy issues, you know the type. Kids loved him, parents hated him.

You were friends with JJ, you supposed. You spent your time with him talking about your days and smoking a joint, meaningful conversations turning into joking and general tomfoolery within seconds. With JJ, you were simply unapologetically you, and JJ never judged you. He never made you choose a side, seemingly content with the fact that you were a little bit of everything, though there was times when he teased you relentlessly about the Kook life, but that was just JJ.

And despite the social differences, him being a Pogue through and through, you technically a Kook, you were drawn to each other pretty easily. Not that you hung out all the time, but you loved every second when you did, usually joined by his group of best friends - John B, Pope, and Kiara. With Kiara a Kook herself but drawn more to the lifestyle of the Pogue's, she understood you more than anyone. You'd bonded a lot, and with each of them too.

JJ loved that you fitted in with them, like a missing puzzle piece. So perfectly, it shook him to its core. The pair of you were close, but he had no idea where he stood with you, like most people never when it came to you. You were like a rollercoaster, taking people for the most exciting ride of their lives that lasted a full three or so minutes before they returned back to solid ground. You'd given JJ a ride a number of times on your non-existent metaphorical rollercoaster, and he'd returned for another ride time and time again. You couldn't say no to that damned boy.

It was a blessing and a curse, the unspoken relationship you shared. A blessing because JJ was the best thing that happened to you, and a curse because that was your downfall. You never got attached to people, never given yourself the chance. But then JJ Maybank had come along, blonde hair and blue eyes, split lip and sharpened teeth, words cunning. You saw him as a challenge at first, the name Kook Princess haunting you as he spoke them, stood in front of you at the keg upon your first real meeting. He'd held a drink out towards you, smirk perfect on his pink lips.

You'd attended over a hundred kegger's in your lifetime, the Pogue parties more inviting than those of the Kook's. You danced and talked to anyone that came across your path, whether it be unknowing Tourons, unjudging Pogues, or unforgiving Kooks, you drew them all in. You didn't fit in with any of them, JJ had realised. You really did move in your own way, he thought. He liked that, he'd decided. And hey, you were pretty cute too.

On that particular night, he'd spoken to you directly for the first time in a long time. "Would the Kook Princess like a drink?" He'd asked, holding the red cup out towards you. You'd eyed the offended object, and subsequently him, too. He smirked at the attention. You had rolled your eyes.

"Don't call me that," you'd said simply, but taking the cup from his hands regardless. You took a sip, relieved to discover that he hadn't tampered with it in any way. You were still considered a Kook to most people, after all. You could never be too careful. "Thanks, Maybank."

And he'd blinked at you, lips suddenly raising to a sly smile as he shrugged, dimples winking at you as they appeared in his cheeks. "Anytime," and he'd spoken your name back to you and you couldn't get enough of the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and you realised hey, this guy is pretty cute, and the rest, as they, is history.

You were in the midst of another infamous Pogue kegger at the current, months after your first introduction to JJ Maybank and his friends, and you stood off to the side, listening to JJ intently as he ranted about the events of the day he'd endured. Starting from finding a Grady White sunken in the marsh, "A fucking Grady Marsh, they're like 500 G's man!", to discovering that the boat belonged to Scooter Grubbs, who had coincidentally been found dead that same day, to getting chased by two guys with a gun, to the finding of the motel key from the wreck and breaking in that same motel room, finding a safe full of money and a gun of all things, to their best attempt at laying low which, unsurprisingly, resulted in the kegger in the first place.

JJ was wild in his recite of the events, hands gesturing every which way as you watched him with your lips curled into your mouth, resisting a smile at his antics. When he finished he retelling, you raised an eyebrow and chuckled dryly. "So, complete and utter boring day for you, huh?"

JJ chuckled along with you, shaking his head as if he was still in disbelief from everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours. "Man, it was crazy," he muttered. He looked at you then, eyes sincere. "I wish you were there with us. It was like something straight from a movie, I'm telling you. I feel like such a badass with that gun."

Your secret joy at his confession of that he wished you were was short lived, as the last of his words sunk in and you felt dread build in the pit of your stomach. You stared at him, him so excited that he hadn't even realised your face had dropped, before you reached out and grabbed his arm, effectively halting his movements and stopping the hurried flow of words that were leaving his mouth.

"JJ," you said carefully, eyes trained on his as he stared, clueless. "Please tell me you did not take that gun from the safe."

Your heart dropped as you saw him falter, his lips helplessly moving but no words coming out. He held a hand up, as if to hush you, though you hadn't started to speak again, and then his hand had dropped just as quick as it was raised, his teeth biting down on his chapped lip as the realisation dawned on you.

"JJ Fucking Maybank," you spat, hands slapping gently at his arms, because you could never really hurt him, you just wanted him to know you were pissed. "Do you realise how fucking careless that is? How much trouble you could get into, if anyone knew you had a gun-" your voice trailed off, your eyes closing as you exhaled. "JJ, please tell me you don't have it on you right now."

His lack of reply was the only answer you needed, and your stomach churned as you stepped back from his figure, suddenly feeling sick. He followed you, though, not letting you get too far as he took your arms in his hands and tried to drag you closer to him once more. You shook your head, arms slipping from his hold as you glared at him fiercely.

"That's so fucking stupid, JJ. You could get into serious trouble with this, trouble I won't be able to get you out of." You warned, because you knew it was true. Your charm and looks could get him out of some trouble to its extent, but it was more so your parents wealth and status that got the both of you out of shit when you managed to get into it, and you also knew your parents would literally throw a fit if you got involved in something like this - carrying a gun was no joking matter. You stepped back once more, hand finding its way to your forehead. "And from a crime scene, no less. Fucking hell."

JJ licked his lips, standing back roughly as you watched, his jaw clenching. "Well I'm not asking for your help here, Princess," he taunted, the nickname sending a wave of annoyance through you. JJ knew it would. "It's not like I ask you to help me, you're just there. Thinking I need help, like I'm some fucking charity case, a fucking doll you picked up from the thrift store that was gonna be thrown out the next day."

You tried to protest, but JJ didn't give you the chance. "I don't need your help all the fucking time. I don't need your pity. I get that you won't understand because why would you? You're a Kook, you get everything you want handed to you on a silver platter. And you can argue and fight me about it all you want, but I know you know it's true."

He sighed heavily, hands running down his face in a sign of defeat. You watched him all the while, thankful that you had ventured off the outskirts of the party so that hopefully nobody had heard JJ shouting at you, your heart wrenching as his blue eyes settled on you. "I'm sorry, JJ," you said finally. You refused to cry, though the desire to at the sight of him being so mad at you tore you apart. "I'm just trying to look out for you. With the gun thing, with everything that I help you with. And I know I'm a Kook, and I know that my parents could afford to buy half of this fucking island if they pleased, but that doesn't define me. I care, okay? And I know I care a lot more than a lot of people in your life."

It was probably a low blow, and you knew it. But JJ took it in, let the words sink into his brain where they stayed there, his fists clenching at his sides. You crossed your arms over your chest, defeated.

"I'm gonna go back to the party," you whispered. "I'll see you around, I guess." You eyed his pockets, unsure of where exactly he held the gun. "Be careful, okay."

And even when you were angry with him, you still tried to make sure he was okay, that he stayed safe. There was multiple occasions you'd showed up unannounced, simply asking how his day was, if he okay, if he had eaten that day, stayed hydrated. At first the attention startled him, he'd never really had anyone look out for him in that aspect, and yet there you were, like an angel sent from the gods themselves, smiling down at him.

You cared, he realised. You cared so much that sometimes he couldn't take it, because he didn't know how. The most family he'd ever gotten close to having in his life was the Pogues, after losing his mother and subsequently losing his father too as he turned into the monster that he was, cold and distant, fists always poised ready for an imaginary fight, and he knew that someday the Pogues would even slip through his fingers. He couldn't let that happen with you. He wouldn't.

He'd started off in your direction, truly, he had. But then John B was grabbing him and averting his attention to him, and he focused on his friend, promising only a minute of his time. You were in his sights, stood a bit away, and he recognised the couple you were talking to as Sarah Cameron and Topper Thorton, Kooks through and through. He held his distaste back, and even held a drink out to offer to Sarah as she and Topper made their way past where he and John B were standing. Big fucking mistake, he realised quickly.

It had all happened in a blur of events, each little bit leading to big finale - as he watched his best friend being held down in the water, powerless to Topper who kneeled over him, hands forcing John B to stay put in the sea. Sarah was screaming at Topper, Pope was holding JJ back with all his might, Kie beside them as she screamed along with Sarah to let John B go. And there you were, suddenly beside JJ, gripping his arm tightly as you took in the sight with a horrified glare. JJ didn't even hesitate; the gun had been pulled from his shorts and was directed at Topper's head in the blink of an eye.

The fury in his veins was red hot and ugly, tearing through every part of him like a vice. This was the Pogues land, their side of the island, and yet the Kooks still thought they could get away with anything and everything - including, apparently, attempting to drown his best friend.

"Your move, broski," JJ uttered through clenched teeth. He could hear the screams of the crowd behind him, and he pulled the gun away from Topper's head and into the direction of the sky, firing two shots towards it as the crowd of people quickly dispersed, screeches sounding from all over. "Now everybody needs to get the fuck off our side of the island!"

He was shoved to the side as Sarah rushed to her boyfriend, telling him he was fucking crazy or something like that, he wasn't really listening. The shots rang in his ears, and the adrenaline of the moment soured through him. Kie and Pope were screaming at him, he could hear their voices distantly. His blue eyes were unfocused for a second, before they looked up, and there you were.

Sent from the gods themselves, once again. You looked vibrant, so insanely alive, lips red and cheeks flushed, eyes bright. You let out a shaky breath as you watched him. JJ clenched his jaw.

"He was going to drown John B," he thought he'd said, but he wasn't sure. He didn't really know what to keep track of at that moment, Kie and Pope's obvious disapproval at him literally doing the one thing they swore not to do, Sarah and Topper stumbling away from the scene in the distance, John B getting up and muttering something along the lines of he wasn't going to drown me, or you, simply staring at him.

Before he knew what he was doing, JJ had made his way towards you. The gun was still held in his hands, and you swallowed thickly as you eyed it. "You should put that away," you muttered. JJ seemed confused, before he caught on to what you meant and he shoved the gun back to the spot of in between his shorts and his hip. "You literally did the one thing I said not to, you tool."

JJ cracked a smile, small and uncertain as he gazed at you. You stepped closer to him, eyes glancing over his shoulder. "You really pissed them off," you said, meaning his friends.

JJ shrugged, because he didn't care about their opinion, he cared about yours. And if you hated him now, hated the fact that he was just some dirty Pogue who held guns against people's heads now, apparently. "I don't care about what they think," he spoke softly. You looked at him confused. "I care about what you think."

You smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder. "Topper was going to drown John B," you replied, matter of fact. "If you hadn't stepped in when you did, who knew what could have happened. Nothing could have stopped him." You bit your lip, hand reaching out and touching his face gently, thumb soothing over the worried line between his brows. "You did the right thing, J. A fucking crazy and stupid thing, potientally dangerous, but the right thing nonetheless."

"Yeah, that's kind of my go-to, if you haven't already noticed," JJ smiled, tongue running over his bottom lip. You rolled your eyes, though playful. "Look, I'm sorry about before, okay. I was a dick. I know you care, but sometimes that's what scares me."

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused expression on your face as your hand dropped from his face to intertwine with his own hand, his gaze suddenly becoming fixed on your linked hands, his other absentmindedly playing with your fingers that held his hand.

"It's like, you're this untouchable thing. I mean, you don't belong to anyone, you refuse to go by anything other than your name, and you're like this perfect mix between Pogue and Kook even if you do hate it and everyone knows who are you and they make these stories up about you, like that's how popular you are," JJ chuckled. "And then you hang out with me, you look past all the dirty Pogue shit, see me for who I am, and you care. And you care so god dammed much that it fucking terrifies me because nobody's ever cared that much before about me, so why should you?"

His hand left yours to remove the hat from sitting atop his hair and then run his hand through the blonde locks. You could see his tongue running along the outsides of his bottom teeth, the action causing a bump beneath his skin. He looked nervous than you had ever seen him before, and you'd both gotten into enough nerve-wracking situations together to compare. You sighed as your hands reached for his face, gripping his cheeks and forcing his eyes to gaze down at yours.

"JJ Maybank," you started, grinning softly. "You listen to me while I tell you that you deserve the fucking world and more. All this shit that you're going through, all the crap you deal with on a daily basis, you carry it so well that nobody would even know. You fight through each day and I don't even know how you manage it half the time. I admire you so much, J. And I can't help but care about you, even if you don't want me to. I care about you so much, that you wanna know a secret? It scares me too."

JJ gazed down at you lovingly, his forehead moving to rest against yours. You welcomed the embrace, his arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you gently, as if reassuring himself that you were actually there.

"JJ," you whispered as you were stood in silence for a precise minute, neither of you daring to break the silence until you had. His blue eyes stared into yours, awaiting the next part of your speech. You swallowed your nerves down, figuring fuck it. "I'm so in love with you."

He grinned, his head swooping down before you knew it and his lips pressing against yours in a heated embrace that sent a sensation of butterflies to fly wildly in your stomach, bashing against your ribcage and taking your breath away. Shivers flew up your spine, and every hair on your body stood on edge as the kiss grew heavier, tongues brushing and teeth clattering, bodies pressed against each other as much as they could manage.

When JJ's lips left yours, you almost whined. JJ grinned cheekily, hands digging into your hips. "I love you," he breathed against the skin of your neck as he buried his head there, lips tickling the flesh. "I can't believe you just macked on me while I have a gun in my pocket."

You rolled your eyes and tugged gently on his hair, spurring a laugh from him as you shoved him away and grinned despite yourself. "Do not remind me, please," you warned him, allowing him to pull you into his side as you made your way down the beach. "I still can't believe you took that thing."

"I knew it'd come in handy though," he grinned, pulling you closer with the arm thrown over your shoulder. You wrapped yours around his waist, face squished in his chest as you shook your head.

"You're an idiot, Maybank."

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umbralsound-xiv · 3 years

Text

Kitten.

[With Blood On Her Hands] Previous <<< || >> Next [Pieces]

She walks with confidence. With a limp.

Broken, battered, and bruised. The blood that spilled from her crown still sticks her hair to her cheek, even after all the time it had been, for it to dry and flake against her skin.

But four guards had become six. And she was no longer allowed to walk or rest unbound.

Little victories, Bexy thought. Even as her ribs rang with the pain of every breath, she didn’t give him an ilm of satisfaction as she was escorted to his presence. Her stomach ached with hunger, lips parched and begging for a drop to drink. It had been suns, now.

As his glaring, mismatched eyes settled on her form, she was promptly shoved to her knees before him, as her escorts fell back; Only E’sehri stayed close by. He stares. And she smiles. The sort reserved for a darker purpose.

“Y’vhala.”

She’s the first to speak for a change. And he doesn’t like it one bit.

He responds with a sharp kick to her ribs that is enough to skid her across the dirt and wind her. With a long, deep breath, he gives an annoyed huff through his nose as he walks over her, turning her head with the toe of his boot.

“The next time you say my name, you’ll be begging with it. I want you to remember that.”

His teeth grit his words as he pushes her face into the dirt, pulling back only when he was satisfied his they had sunk in. He is met with an indignant gaze as much as a defiant one.

“I won’t keep you long. Maybe i’ll even feed you, depending on how you do. E’sehri?”

The woman turns her head full of pink curls to a figure somewhere out of Bexy’s vision, and beckons them over.

“Please... Please don’t make me do this...” He whimpers, but his feet bring him forth regardless. A Seeker perhaps half Bexy’s age stumbles out of the dark, sandy brown hair reaching a bloodied, misaligned jaw. Torn clothes wrapped tight around his limbs as crude bandages from where he’d been cut and beaten. He clutches a small, writhing sack that hisses and cries.

“You should’ve thought of that before you caused me so much trouble, D’hari!”

A fist collides with the aforementioned jaw, and the younger man screams in pain. The sound of a fist beating against flesh over and over. He wasn’t in immediate view, and Bexy was glad for that; not that the sounds him whimpering and crying out had made the ordeal any better.

“You should thank him, Bexy! Had he not decided to act up the same night you tried your little escape attempt, i might not have stopped!” He wrenches her up by her bindings, and cuts them free with a knife before shoving her back down to her knees. Her eyes meet the man before her with some gratitude.

Y’vhala very well might not have stopped that fateful night. She’d seen him do much worse in anger. She gives the faintest, most fleeting of smiles, and the room falls into a fragile silence.

“Right! Down to business.”

The squirming sack is dropped in front of Bexy, and she eyes it with some suspicion as a knot forms in her stomach. Her newly freed hands are rubbed at the wrists to get some proper feeling back into them.

“You said you could freeze anything you came into contact with. I don’t doubt that. You so annoyingly proved it.” He half-growls his last sentence, and pulls free the drawstring on the sack.

“And you said you could unfreeze things, too. That you could---”

“I said i was practising.” She corrects with a glare. She knew what he was going to ask. And the thought of it made her sick to her stomach. Two bright green eyes meet hers from inside the sack, and the tiny kitten within hisses at her.

“Good.” Y’vhala sneers, now holding the now weeping young man by the hair, wrenched up to watch. “Then practise.”

Bexy glares at him hatefully, which softens as her eyes meet that of her fellow victim.

And then to the kitten.

Ears pinned back and teeth on show, the tiny creature was clearly terrified. Bexy reaches and takes a gentle but firm hold of it, as it writhes and sinks it’s teeth and claws into her hand. With how lacerated from glass it already was, it barely registered as pain.

A squeal. A scream. As her aether surged and took it’s tiny body. It writhes, and slows, and... Stops. Bexy takes care not to move her hand for fear of breaking anything. The man in Y’vhala’s grasp begins to sob, as Y’vhala himself gives an impatent gesture to continue.

The kitten. It’s eyes open. Unblinking. Mouth open in a frozen scream. Bexy takes a breath, and concentrates.

She’d only ever tried with fish. Fish couldn’t scream or make noise, and at least if she failed, she could always eat them. Nothing with fur, flesh, blood and bone like this. Nothing with a terrified racing heartbeat she could feel against her palm.

Slowly, she attempts to pull her aether back. Little by little. Much, much slower than she’d ever poured it in. The ice leaves the tiny body, but the cold doesn’t.

It just lays there. Unmoving.

And breathes.

“Good... Good!” Y’vhala’s words of praise were foreign and bitter to her ears. “Well done, Bexy. You are good for something. Here!”

An apple is tossed into her hands, and Bexy wastes no time in devouring it, core and all. Her stomach groaned and lips stung at the long awaited sensation of food, as D’hari was thrown into the dirt beside her. His hands reach to cradle the kitten, which slowly comes round with the warmth of his touch.

Y’vhala frowns. The entire heartwarming scene sickened him. He hadn’t been entirely sure if she’d succeed, but was prepared enough either way.

His lips curl into a smirk.

“Okay. That’s enough of a rest. Next task.” He grabs D’hari by the hair again, and drops him in front of Bexy.

And she stares.

“Y’vhala, No---!”

“Do the same with him. It shouldn’t be much different, no?”

“Y’vhala!” Bexy did indeed plead with his name. That brought another sick smile to his lips.

“Y’vhala i can’t do this! Please, this is too much!”

He laughs, taking a handful of her hair and dragging her closer to D’hari, who flinches and whimpers at the thought. Running doesn’t even cross his mind.

“You can, and you will. You do remember the price for defying me, don’t you?”

Her eyes widen, and it’s all she can do to not give him the satisfaction of tears.

“You do. Good. Then get to it.”

Bexy and D’hari exchange glances. Her torn and bloody hands reach for his. She is gentle. Calm. Just as she was with the kitten, who lays just out of reach of both of them, moving shakily on tiny feet.

“I’m so sorry.” Whispers Bexy.

D’hari is afraid. Pale yellow eyes meet hers; he never deserved this fate. Wrong place, wrong time. Just like so many others in his clutches. He holds her arms, even as tears spill over his cheeks. And he smiles.

“...It’s okay.” He whispers back.

Bexy sends her aether into his body. D’hari screams. She’d expected that. He wailed - But didn’t fight back. A sob finally leaves Bexy’s lips as the loud crackle and pop of ice smothers his form, and leaves him still and rigid in her grasp.

His eyes, wide and round, and much too young to die.

She pulls her ice back. Slowly. But it was too much, too far - And with her grief, she could barely control it. His arm splits and cracks at the shoulder as a crumbling ruin, hitting the ground with a hard, unpleasant sound.

Silence. Nothing but silence. Bexy’s face is obscured by a veil of hair as she hunches over him.

“Perhaps i was wrong.” He spoke like expected her to fail. The wicked smile curls his lips again. “You aren’t good enough. E’sehri. Show her the price for failure. Kill more of them.”

More of them?

The crunch of Y’vhala’s boots against dirt rounds her, to get a better look at her grief stricken features.

How many had he killed?

And he gets a little too close.

“You BASTARD!”

Bexy screams, and lunges at him, knocking them both into the dirt. It’s all too fast for him to react, as her hand reels back and strikes at his nose, busting and breaking it with a single hit, as she wrenches his shoulders back and slams his head into the ground.

“E’SEHRI!”

He screams for her help, and fights her hands away from his neck in a desperate power struggle, her aether beginning to bite it’s way into his flesh as only murder and vengence set like stone in her gaze. She didn’t care how much using it hurt; it was only as E’sehri’s lightning hits her square in the chest that it launched her and sent her world spinning again.

She fights to take a breath, as the air was beaten out of her lungs by something long and wooden. The seething pain in her back worsened, and she was soon surrounded; a strike to her temple steals her vision, but not before she saw Y’vhala stagger to his feet, soaked in blood.

Blow after blow strikes her body. Her arms. Her legs; they left the important parts alone; she feels an arm break under the weight of a particularly vicious swing; the snap of bone audiable even under the commotion.

“That’s... That’s enough...” Y’vhala breathes, rage clinging to his breath.

“E’sehri! You know what to do!”

The unpleasantly familliar sensation of his hand balling in her hair is felt again, as she’s dragged across the floor.

“Every last one of them. And if you find the damned runaway, bring him back alive.

I’ll deal with him myself.”

Her conciousness ebbed from her mind, as every nerve stung with pain.

Please, she thought. Please be safe.

Bexy is dragged unceremoniously by her hair down the corridor.

It didn’t matter what she did.

He’d have gone after them anyway.

She only cursed herself for not realising sooner, as her thoughts fade into darkness.

#Muse: [Bexy]#Chapter: [Until Death Do Us Part]#FFXIV #Writing #Short Story #TW: Animal Cruelty #TW: Violence

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skieswords · 3 years

Text

Pull Through Part 6

Please read the warnings in Part 1❤️

Trigger warning, mentions of physical abuse, self-harm, vomiting.

They pulled into the driveway, Becca's hands fidgeting nervously in her lap. Alex placed a hand over them, nodding at her, before stepping out of the car, and coming round to let her out. He took her hand again, and walked into the house by her side, kicking his shoes off as she did the same. Becca took a deep breath and dropped Alex's hand, stepping into the kitchen, and blinking under the sudden light. "Rebecca, happy birthday. Did you have a good day?"

Becca nodded at her dad with a weak smile, and made her way to the fridge, taking out a bottle of water. "Yeah it was pretty good. I got an A in my english exam, by the way." Graham nodded from his seat at the table, his tie resting beside him and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. A few empty beer bottles sat on the table in front of him, another one in his hand. "Fine. What about math? And science?" There was a slight sneer in his voice, and Becca looked at her feet, shuffling awkwardly. "I've got those exams next week. I'll pass them though, promise." Graham snorted quietly, and polished off the beer in his hand, slamming it down on the table with a little too much force. "Yes, you will." Becca nodded and turned to leave, but he spoke before she could. "Grab us another beer, hon." She looked back at him, taking in his dishevelled hair and glassy eyes. "Dad, don't you think you've had enough?" Alex took a deep breath from where he was standing outside the door. Obviously she was feeling brave. "Who are you to tell me when I've had enough? God, you sound like your whore mother." Alex flinched, and took another step towards the doorframe, trying to build up the courage should he need to intervene. Becca's voice, strangely confident, filled the kitchen again. "Don't talk about mom like that. She deserves more respect." Graham's chair scraped against the kitchen tiles, and he stood up, frothing at the mouth. "Don't talk to me about respect in my own house. You're all the same, you, your mother, that boy. Disrespectful, ungrateful bastards, the lot of you. Don't know why I stick around. And you, throwing all of my hard work back in my face, failing your classes? I'm embarrassed to call you my kid." Alex's heart sunk at his dad's words, the words scarily reminiscent of the speech he'd recieved when he came out. Becca clenched her fists and grit her teeth. So much for best birthday yet. "God, I'm so sick of you treating us like this! I try my ass off, dad, but it's never good enough! You've stopped acknowledging Alex's existence all together. He's still your son! Just because he'd rather kiss guys, doesn't make him any less Alex than he was before. He deserves better than you." Graham was seething, stalking towards Becca with his empty beer bottle in hand. "Shut up, little girl. No-one cares what you have to say." Becca scoffed and drew back her shoulders, standing up tall. "You know what? Yeh, they do. And one day, you're gonna realise that. And then you'll be sor-" She was cut off by a sickening crack, and Alex jumped into the kitchen just in time to find Graham standing over Becca's kneeling form, her forehead cradled in her hands. Blood was seeping through her fingers, and Alex noticed the shattered beer bottle with a look of horror. "Get out." Graham was in shock, looking at the blood dripping onto his kitchen floor. He looked up at Alex, almost afraid. "Get out. You heard me." He fumbled for his keys, and ran past the Mercer kids, not sparing Becca a second glance as she whimpered quietly. Alex listened for the sound of tires against the gravel, and felt his shoulders relax as the familiar crunch sounded through the house. He fell to his knees and placed his hands on Becca's shoulders. "Bex? Bex look at me. Let me see. Bex?" Becca groaned and looked up slightly, wincing as her hand brushed against her forehead. She pulled her fingers away, and Alex hissed as he saw the nasty gash across her forehead. He struggled not to panic, forcing down the overwhelming sense of terror in his chest. Taking a deep breath, he reached out for her hands, helping her to her feet. "Fuck. Okay, come on, up you get. We gotta get you to the hospital." Becca leaned on Alex heavily as he helped her out the door, folding over in her seat when they reached the car. Alex watched her out the corner of his eye, clenching and unclenching his fists around the steering wheel. Becca's whimpers were only just audible, her shoulders trembling slightly. He was grateful for that at least- the only thought circling his head was the fear she might pass out.

They pulled up to the hospital, and Alex wasted no time, helping Becca out of the car and through the front doors, his hand round her waist. "Hey, is our mom working?" The receptionist looked up at him in surprise, taking in Becca's appearance. "Another skating accident honey? We told you to start wearing a helmet after the last one, didn't we?" Alex bit his tongue, remembering their last visit to the hospital 6 months ago, when Becca had needed stitches after being thrown down the stairs like a rag doll by their dad. The feeling in his stomach that night, seeing her body lying at the bottom of the stairwell, sprawled out, while blood trickled down her forehead, was one he'd never forget. She'd been knocked unconscious, and for a moment, Alex had feared the worst. But luckily having a mom for a doctor came in handy sometimes, and she'd gotten them straight to the hospital, with strict instructions to call it a skating accident. Alex was tempted to tell the truth, but wasn't given the chance, as Becca smiled weakly and nodded. "Yeah, sorry Naomi. I thought I'd be fine but, guess not!" The dark haired woman shook her head fondly, and brushed down her purple scrubs, before picking up the phone and dialling a number. "Hi, is Julia there? Can you tell her her kids are down here? Her daughter needs some stitches by the looks of things." Becca leant into Alex, his arm now wrapped protectively around her shoulder. Naomi set the phone down and looked at the two of them with kind eyes. "Go to room 211- your mom will meet you there. And, by the way, happy birthday sweetheart!" Becca forced a smile to the kind nurse, before turning away with Alex, and stumbling down the corridor, biting back her tears. As soon as the door was shut, she folded over and started moaning, clutching her forehead desperately. Alex stepped forward and rubbed her back, pulling her hair back and tying it with a scrunchie she had round her wrist. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it tight, guiding her to the bed and sitting her down. "I don't know where you find the guts to stand up to him, Bex. He always manages to hurt you." Becca sniffled, and leaned into her brother, releasing her forehead and feeling the warm blood trickle slowly down her temple, already sticky. "I'm sick of him treating us like this, Alex. Why are we never enough?" He bit his lip, and felt tears well up in his eyes. "I don't know, Bex. I really don't know." They sat in silence for a few more minutes, Becca's occasional whimpers the only sound in the room.

"Oh my god, Rebecca, what happened?" Julia came rushing in, and placed a hand on either side of her daughter's face, lifting it gently. The entire right side of Becca's face was covered with a light coating of blood, and her eye was screwed shut, blood coating her lashes. She sighed, and stroked her forehead, glancing at Alex. "He did this, didn't he." Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, and she continued stroking Becca's hair as she spoke, making a noise like an injured puppy when Alex nodded. "I'm so sorry baby. I should've been there." Becca shook her head, wincing as she did so. "Keep still. Let's get that sorted." Alex watched with a heavy heart as Julia fetched a suture kit, flinching everytime Becca whimpered at the new sutures. As she washed off the blood with an alcohol wipe, he felt angry tears rise to the surface, the bruise and swelling around his little sister's eye already painfully obvious. Julia pressed a kiss to her youngest child's forehead, before looking to Alex, who had his arms crossed over his chest, his body language radiating anger. "Alexander, hon, can you take her home? She should be fine. I don't want people asking questions." Alex scoffed and shook his head at her. "Really? What if she's got a concussion?" Julia sighed and peeled her gloves off, trying not to look at the red stain of her daughter's blood all over them. "Alex, please. Just do as your told." Becca looked pleadingly at her brother, wincing as she ran a finger over the bumpy stitches in her forehead. It was a nasty cut. About 4 inches wide, and pretty deep, she was going to have a beauty of a scar. "Fine. Come on, Bex." Alex reached a hand out to her, and sent one final disapproving look at his mom, before guiding Becca along the corridor with their hands intertwined. "I promise, Bex, if it's the last thing I do, I'm gonna get you out of there." Becca laughed mirthlessly, waving as they passed Naomi. "Bye honey, I don't wanna see you in here for at least another 6 months, you hear me?" Becca smiled forcefully, before disappearing into the carpark, tucked under her older brother's arm. They got home, and Alex went straight to the kitchen, running a cold towel under the tap. "Here, hold that over it." Becca took a seat at the kitchen table, pointedly avoiding looking at the collection of beer bottles on the table. She watched as Alex soaked another cloth, before kneeling down and collecting the shattered glass from the floor. Binning it, he returned to the floor, grimacing as he started wiping the red splatters off of the tiles. He scrubbed furiously, until he let out a pained groan, and slumped onto the floor, leaning his back against the fridge. Becca ran to him, holding him as he cried, letting her own tears fall. "How many times am I going to have to clean your blood of the floor, Bex?" Becca felt a tear drip off the end of her nose, and ran a hand through Alex's hair. Just over 6 months ago, they'd been in almost this exact situation, only there had been a lot less blood and glass to clean up. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Alex nodded at his little sister's request, finding her hand and squeezing it tight.

The next morning met the Mercer kids with a silent house, a clear sign that neither their mom or dad was home. Alex rolled over and looked at his little sister, fast asleep with the covers pulled up under her chin, her hair spread across his pillow. She looked so peaceful, the ugly black of her stitches covered by her hair, and it was almost possible to imagine her as any other 16 year old girl, about to wakeup and go to school as she should, to then come home, and go out for her first driving lesson. But of course, the reality was not quite like that. She woke up not long after him, and after accepting a much needed hug for 5 minutes, legged it to the bathroom, closely tailed by Alex, who held back her hair as she vomited for 20 minutes straight. Totally wiped out, she groaned, before feeling Alex pull her against his chest, holding her tightly and rocking her back and forth in his arms. "How you feeling?" Becca groaned in response, resting her head against her brother's shoulder. They were leaning against the bathroom wall, Becca sitting in between Alex's legs with her head on his shoulder, carefully avoiding her stitches. They sat in silence, staring at the wall with blank expressions. There was nothing to be said.

Alex stirred eventually, pushing Becca off him gently, and helping her to her feet. "You need to eat. Cmon, I'll make something." Becca nodded, and walked over to the sink to get her toothbrush. "I'll be down in a bit." Once Alex left, she turned the faucet off, and looked at herself in the mirror. She ran a finger over the jagged black stitches, and touched the skin around them, wincing. A nasty bruise was already forming around them, and she knew she was going to have a killer migraine for the next few days. Becca touched the scar above her eyebrow, only an inch or so below the new stitches, and smiled sadly. Another one to add to the collection. She dropped her hands to her sides, rolling up her hoodie sleeve. She ran her right hand over the small collection of white and purple marks on her left wrist, frowning. Skating accident didn't quite cover these ones. She pulled her sleeve back down, rubbing her arm. Once again meeting her own eyes in the mirror, she drew her shoulders back, and sniffed. She was going to be okay. She had to be.

The smell of burnt toast carried up the stairs, and Becca laughed as she walked into the kitchen, finding Alex standing over a stack of charred bread, a hopeless frown on his face. "Leave it. I'll just have cereal." Alex groaned and jumped onto the counter, swinging his legs as she got the milk from the fridge. He reached in to the top cupboard, and held his hand out toward's Becca, who glared at him, and shook her head. "No, Alex." He raised his eyebrows at her and jumped down, setting the orange bottle down next to the orange juice he'd left out for her. "Take them, I don't care what you've got to say. Just do as your told." His voice told her not to argue, and she groaned, but unscrewed the cap and swallowed back two pills, gagging, before sticking her tongue out at Alex. "You done torturing me for the day?" Alex rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair, pointing to the milk. "Eat. I'm going downstairs." He shoved his hands in his pockets and left the kitchen, stopping outside the door for a moment to make sure she was actually eating. Satisfied after hearing her grab a bowl, he continued on his way down the hall, opening the door to the basement and disappearing down the stairs. The basement had been Alex's sanctuary for years, his safe space, his only escape from his parents. When he came out, he'd basically moved in, only coming out at night to go to his room. They'd soundproofed it when he picked up the drums, turning it into a sort of studio, so that he could go mental without disturbing the entire neighbourhood. His anxiety had been okay recently- it had been months since he'd had an attack. As Becca and their dad started fighting more and more, he'd felt his chest getting tighter and tighter, ready to snap. Becca was the only thing keeping him going. He knew he couldn't break while she was still at home, he had to have his head screwed on straight so he could keep her safe. One more year, that's all she needed, and then she could get to college, and she'd be safe. Their dad was terrifying. But he was also the only person in the world that Alex would stand up to- because he'd do anything not to see his little sister get hurt.

Becca cracked open the door to the basement, and sighed as she heard Alex going at it, fill after fill after fill. She knew he was hurting, and she knew it hurt him to see her hurting. But there wasn't much either of them could do about it. They'd just have to stick it out for a little longer. She pushed the door shut with a click, and ran upstairs, settling down at her desk. She had multiple pieces of homework due by the end of the week, and an impromptu day off meant she'd have lots more to catch up on the next day. But the minute she opened her history textbook, and started to scan the page, her mind started reeling, and she had to clutch her head with her eyes closed in an effort for the dizziness to go away. "Well that's a no to that then." She sighed and closed her textbook, collapsing onto her bed instead. The house was silent, Alex's frantic drumming silenced by the soundproof walls in the basement. Becca fiddled with her fingers, looking around her walls. The usual urge to suddenly change and redecorate the entire room was more dull than it normally was, almost like it was blurry, not quite defined. Her mind was reeling, struggling to work out reality and her thoughts. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow. She almost preffered the constant talking in her head to this. This feeling of uncertainty, not being able to tell the real from the fake. She was going insane.

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