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eeunoia · 2 years ago

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ENHYPEN Mini Series

E N H Y P E N in an Apocalypse

part two

pairings: nishimura riki x reader

summary: you are in your school when the outbreak happened. lucky for you, your bestfriend ni-ki was there to protect and take care of you.

short background: before the outbreak happened, the spread of the infection happened when one of the student went to the science laboratory and got bitten by an infected animal.

THIS SERIES ARE INSPIRED BY THE SERIES: ALL OF US ARE DEAD.

warnings: blood, violence, mention of abuse and everything about a zombie apocalypse. not proof read. (let me know if i forgot something)

word count: 7k

important note📎: You have come to the last part of this mini series. Thank you so much for readjng this! I really appreciate it. sorry if the style of updates changed. i will fix it once i get a chance.

note📎: Hi I just want to give you heads up that some scenes may be similar from the series. I give full credits to them! I hope you guys liked it! it really means a lot to me whenever you let me know what you think about them, re-blogs and comments are well appreciated. btw, i love you guys and thank you for supporting me up until now. have a nice day/night! 🤍

permanent tag-list: @rubyanne @studioreader @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @kako-chan @classicroyalty @angel-hyuckie @jun-malone @ncityy04 @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @fearlesskz @abdiitcryy @hime98 @moonsclover @hoonstrology @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamyenskz @minamoons @clar-iii @notmyselfbuttrying @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @rcveribin @yizhoutv @person-standing @black-bread1230 @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @hiqhkey @star-rie @niinjo @ssomsworld @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @edensgardenn @nikililmj @ayayiiie @moonlightisland @simpforniki

tag-list: @luvvdsttfaye @nikililmj @psh-pjh @rylexe @095won @belle643 @luvrjn @jangwonie @softb-tterfly @3chae @jovibaes

You are still crying lightly and its been hours already ever since you knew that Ni-ki was not with you. Everything is a mess, things are starting to get out of hand and you are slowly losing hope to survive. Thankfully, (sn's y/n) was there with you. She gives you comforting words along with warm hugs that you admit to need at the moment.

You are still not over by the fact that Ni-ki was lost when another heartbreaking scene happened right in front of you. One of your classmates turned out to be bitten and even before she can turn and hurt somebody, she volunteered to throw herself out from the window.

Tears stream down your eyes as you hold unto (sn's y/n), trying not to watch the awful scene. She was smiling and bidding goodbyes them wished everyone good luck. (jw's y/n) was heart broken at her loss and somehow, your heart aches with her. To lose someone very important to you and have nothing else that you can do is frustrating. Right now, you wanted to go outside and search for Ni-ki, but you know its not a wise decision.

He will hate you if he knew you risked your life just to look for him. He promised you that he will protect and look after you. He's somewhere safe. You slowly tried to convince and comfort yourself.

Your heads snapped over to the side when a sound of glass shattering errupted the silent room. Everyone were is mourning from the loss of your classmate and here again another problem that you all need to deal with.

Since the infected are crowding in front of the science lab, the glasses of the windows were breaking. It couldn't hold much of their weight and you know its just a matter of time before they managed to get inside.

Jungwon and the other boys gathered up to talk about something. Probably to plan what to do next since you're basically trapped. You have nowhere else to go except...

Your head slowly trailed over to the big windows at the other side of the room, where (classmate's name) threw herself moments ago. It may sound crazy, but that's the only shot you have. Your heart fell, totally against it. It could be very dangerous.

But based on how Jungwon checks the hose used to crack the room open, it seems like he planned to exit through those windows as well. You cursed lightly and as Sunoo approaches, he announced that the boys did think of going to the new room through that windows.

You showered him with complaints to hide your fear. Like you said, it's very dangerous and you guys are scared and hungry already. The thing you'll use to go down is just a hose. Imagine depending your life over a hose? That's clearly insane.

You are adventurous and people may see you as someone whose fearless, but the truth is you are just like that because you have Ni-ki beside you. All those amazing adventures you had, you're always with him. He serves as your strength and your constant reminder that you could do it. And without him here, you don't know if you can do it.

On the other hand, Ni-ki cursed as he stayed crouched lowly over a table. The room is basically vacant when he entered since all of the biters are crowding the science lab across the hall. There are just a few ones luring in front of this room and the doors were broken so he couldn't close it.

He can hear their grunts and movements not far away from him. His heart beats crazily and just tried his best to stay quiet. The table have a cloth that covers him from being seen by these infected students. It was not too thick allowing him to see them walk around from time to time.

It was terrifying for him. His mind suddenly got occupied by you. He's sure he saw you with the group, surrounded by your classmates. Sunoo is with you and so it made him a little relief because he knows he'll take good care of you.

He doesn't really wanted to be separated a while ago, but he was left with no choice. He ran across the hall since a lot of them are crowding you guys. It would be impossible to hold too many biters so he sacrificed a little just to make sure you get inside safely. He wasn't sure if its successful, but he hoped it was.

Back to you, the boys already managed to arranged the things that needed to move to the other room. Sunghoon volunteered to go first to check if the audio-visual room is really vacant. Your eyes unconsciously looked at (sh's y/n) and despite her cold face, you saw a glint of worry lingers through her eyes. It's her fiancé, anyway. After all, despite all the fights Sunghoon was the only one who's always there for her.

When he announced that it was safe to move, the boys instructed that girls should go first. Your eyes darted at the hand that held your arm softly.

"Can you encourage, (sn's y/n)? She's afraid of heights. I'll help them arrange something for a while." it was Sunoo.

You agreed right away and approached her with a small smile. She seemed very scared and worried while looking at the window.

"I heard from Sunoo that you're afraid of heights?" you started to catch her attention. She looked at you and there's still this amused expression that plays through her pretty eyes.

Ever since you started hanging out with her, she always have that face. Like she couldn't believe about a certain thing. You shrug it off and focused on cheering her on. She helped you calm down a while ago, it's just right for you to do her a favor as well.

You told her that you'll go first so she can watch and feel more comfortable with it. Stepping over the table, Jay helped you. A cold breeze greets you as you near the big windows. The boys assisting you were saying things, but your mind was too occupied about another thing.

You imagined Ni-ki beside you like always. You imagined him saying comforting things and encouraging you, assuring you that he will just be there for you. It sure was helpful to ease some of your worry and fear.

You let out a big sigh and smiled over to Jay then over to (sn's y/n).

"See you there!" you said before starting to climb down.

In the middle of going down, you can hear them continuously shouting things like 'you got it, y/n!' 'keep going!' 'you're almost there.' and so many more. As you make your last step, a hand reached over your waist congratulating you for doing well. It was Sunghoon and you just gave him a smile.

You stepped down and your eyes grew at the sight of your homeroom teacher. She quickly embarced you, telling you how happy she is that you are okay. You couldn't help but to start crying now.

"N-Ni-ki got separated." you announced. She cupped your face, looking at you with sorrowful eyes.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure he is alright so don't worry, hmm?" she tried consoling you.

Hours passed by and Ni-ki can already feel his back aching because of his position. He was trying to massage it lightly when he heard the biters grunting. He stopped from his movements, thinking that it was him that caught their attention. But to his surprise, they started storming out of the room.

After making sure that the room were now vacant of biters, Ni-ki slowly crawled out from his hiding spot. He checked his surroundings and was about to start finding a way to cover the door, when he heard screams from somewhere. It's not the type of terrified screams, but instead he can hear them talking things like 'you can do it!'

It caught his attention he quickly moved over to the window to see what it was. He furrowed his brows in confusion as he couldn't believe what he's seeing.

"What the fuck..." he mumbled to himself as he watch how his classmates slowly go down the other room using a freaking hose.

He thought they were crazy, but he's no one to talk now because he's about to make a crazy move as well. He carefully stepped outside the window of the room he was and used the small space as his way closer to where you guys at.

The breeze blew over him, making him take deep breaths before slowly glancing beneath him. It was a long way down and he's sure if he wouldn't be careful, he will die from the fall. He shut his eyes and tried to calm himself.

"Calm down, Ni-ki. You got this." he tried convincing himself then started to move.

When he's close enough, he looked back and saw that it was his Jungwon hyung whose going down the hose. He was about to call him, but then a biter tried to follow him. It loses it balance and fell from the window but managed to grab onto Jungwon's leg.

Ni-ki cursed at the scene and stepped to another steep space, the room just above his Jungwon hyung.

"Jungwon hyung!" he called his attention. He glanced over him and despite the situation he was in, he couldn't hide the joy he felt seeing the younger one.

"Kick it!" he tried to instruct him.

"What do you think am I doing?" he sarcastically responded to him.

Ni-ki cursed and stared down to see how high he is from the ground. He huffed and tried shut the thoughts he's having inside his mind. He's think of something crazy and he wouldn't let these thoughts halt him.

"I will jump to you, hyung!" he announced just so the older one have an idea of his plan.

He saw the hesitation from his eyes, "What? W-Wait!"

But he didn't let even his hyung's words to stop him. He quickly jumped and managed to get a grip over his waist. Jungwon lets out a grunt as Ni-ki tried to kick the biter beneath them. After he managed to get rid of it, they both laugh together only to be interrupted by the sound of the hose giving up.

Ni-ki quickly made his way down, his hyungs greets him in joy but he couldn't focus at them as he was busy roaming his eyes in search for you. He was greeted by your tight embrace together with your soft cries that broke something in him.

He pursed his lips and returned the hug. He placed a soft kiss just beside your head before muttering comforting words for you. It didn't stop you from crying, tho. You continued and Ni-ki just hold you the whole time.

"I t-thought I lost you!" you managed to utter these words in between your cries.

Ni-ki pulls away and cupped your face. You have small cuts at your cheeks, but all in all you looked pretty as always. He smiled and wanted to lighten the mood by teasing you.

"What? I'm a little offended you think of your best friend as a weakling, y/n." he said in a teasing tone, but you have no time for it.

Instead of cursing him, you once again slid your arms over his waist hugging him. Making sure he's close enough for you to feel that he was really there. That he was real and that you aren't hallucinating due for too much longing for him.

Ni-ki was stunned and he then realized how scared you must have been to cling to him like this. He clenched his jaw and returned your hug even tighter then continued assuring you.

Once you calmed down, you sat beside (sn's y/n) while everybody else crowds the computer they found. Your eyes were fixed at Ni-ki. A small part of you still couldn't believe that he's here with you again.

"Do you think I should confess?" you suddenly blurt out for (sn's y/n). When you saw the surprise look she had, you let out a chuckle.

"Was it that not obvious? Maybe why he doesn't know it himself." you said and trailed back over to Ni-ki.

She cleared her throat, "N-No! I was just surprised." she said using this soft voice of hers.

Your head snaps at her and you couldn't help but to admire her. Some part of you felt bad because you didn't pay much attention to the people around you. You're not that sociable and prefers to keep your circle small, but after meeting (sn's y/n), you thought to yourself why you didn't approach her.

She's considerate, sweet and shy. You are very thankful that she's here with you and that you managed to make friends with her. Sadly, you feel bad that if it wasn't for this outbreak, you wouldn't made the first move to befriend her. This chaos had good things served for you and meeting her was one of it.

"What about you, (sn's y/n)? Do you like someone?" you asked her, wanting to know her more.

Your mind suddenly thought of your friend, Sunoo, when you asked that question. It may not be noticeable by others, but for you it was obvious how he looks after her. He always scanned the room for her and made sure she's all right. You know him very well and its not something he would do just for anyone, despite being nice and friendly. You knew something's going on.

"Umm..." she said glancing away, totally shy.

She looked adorable for you and the fact that she's blushing made you even more curious. You sat straightly, totally emerged over it.

"I promise to keep it between the two of us!" you tried to convince her.

She pursed her lips and nervously said that name you somehow expected. "Kim Sunoo."

You couldn't help a victory smile to spread across your face when she said his name. "That's crazy because I actually think he likes you too!" the words slipped from your mouth even before you can stop it.

She looked really flustered about it, "N-No! He's just really nice to everyone-"

You cut her words, "Trust me! Kim Sunoo do-" this time, it was your words that has been cut off.

"I what?" it was Sunoo.

When you glanced back at (sn's y/n), she seemed really surprised and flustered about it. You pursed your lips before letting out a chuckle, "Nothing!"

Even before you can say another word, you felt a warm hand holding yours to catch your attention. You saw how Ni-ki stood beside you, staring at you with serious eyes. You flashed him a smile, despite the racing of your heart.

"Hi!" you greets and intertwined your fingers with him. He carefully roamed his eyes around your face before smiling a little.

He leaned closer and placed a kiss at your forehead that caught you off-guard. "Damn, at least I have you despite of all these chaos." he mumbled that made you blush so crazy.

You were all resting when suddenly something happened that resulted for yet another arguments between the class. (sh's y/n) was accusing Sunghoon of being scratched by one of the infected students right after trying to save one of your classmates.

You heard Ni-ki lets out an unamused sigh. He seemed to be so done with her and just decided to keep his mouth shut. He walks closer to you after managing to help calming his friend down.

Both of your eyes met and just by looking at him, you already knew he had a lot of things he wanted to say.

"Don't even think of saying something about her." you tried to get ahead of him, defending poor (sh's y/n). You understand her bad behavior and foul attitude but you are well aware of how scared she is too. At some point, you felt yourself losing your mind a while ago after losing Ni-ki.

Ni-ki rolled his eyes before grabbing your hands to play with it and entertain himself. "I'm not even gonna say a word." he said.

You looked at him while he's so emerged over your hands, finding it confusing to what's so amusing about it. Instead of figuring it out, you glanced back at the commotion and saw how your teacher solved it.

Sunghoon went inside the recording room, isolating himself while (sh's y/n) agreed to tell him sorry once proven that he wasn't infected. You watch her stand alone by the corner while the judgmental eyes stared at her. You felt bad at her, but couldn't find the right word to say because you know she will just reject your comfort.

After an hour, it was time for her to go inside and say sorry. Ni-ki lets out another tired sigh before walking towards the water dispenser to get you some water. Your eyes kept watching how she walks inside and slowly approached Sunghoon whose facing his back at her.

"Drink some." your eyes moved towards the water he was giving you then to him.

"Thanks. How about you?" he watch how you carefully took a sip from the water he handed you.

"I already had some." he answered and even made sure you finished the whole cup before both of you looked back at the recording studio.

Ni-ki smirked as he watch how his hyung pulls her into a hug like as if she didn't just risked his life moments ago. "He's crazy for her. No doubt." he commented that caught your attention.

You pursed your lips. "Well that's love. It can make you do crazy things." you said that made him furrow his brows, now turning his whole body to face you.

"How'd you know? Are you in love, y/n?" his question took you by surprise that you even moved away from him a bit.

You blinked, feeling your heart racing like you just ran a marathon.

"W-What..." you couldn't construct a proper word.

The creased over his forehead deepened as he shift his weight to his other leg, eyes not leaving you.

"To whom?" he asked sounding impatient. He leaned closer and you can see his face clearly.

It made you so nervous. You planned to confess, but not this soon and definitely not this way. You rested both of your hands over his chest to stop him from leaning even closer.

“U-Uhm..” you cleared your throat feeling your cheeks burning up.

“Nevermind.” he spat and then started walking towards the direction of his friends. You pouted and your shoulder fell a bit.

It somehow made you sad how he just turned around, but you understand that maybe he just don’t want to push you on telling him. You sighed and watch him listen to what his hyung is saying. His brows were hardly furrowed.

‘Just wait a bit more, Ni-ki.’ you thought to yourself and then tried to divert your attention towards other things.

Later on, your teacher told everyone to call it a day and that all of you should get some rest. The boys talked on how to split the time on guarding the doors. You silently watch them discuss it seriously and realized how lucky you girls are to have them. They don’t even need to be told, they just volunteered on protecting everyone.

Ni-ki taps his Jay hyung’s should before walking towards your direction. You sat straight and smiled at him, “When are you going to guard the door?” you asked curiously.

He sighed and sat beside you, moving even closer like as if he ain’t close enough. He rest one of his arm over your knee, “Later. Why?”

“I will guard it with you!” you smiled to show him that you sincerely want to do it with him. He showed you a smile and chuckles.

“Nah, you just rest.” he said and smoothly took off his coat to wrap it over your shoulder since its getting a little chilly.

You pouted, “I want to accompany you tho.” he glanced back at your eyes after making sure you are feeling more warm using his coat. You held his arm and rested your head over his shoulder.

“Please?” you rarely do it, but you tried using your puppy eyes with him.

Ni-ki blushed at the sight right in front of him. You looked so adorable with your lips pouted and your doe eyes flashing at him. Not to mention how close your pretty face is to him. Just one move and he’s sure his lips will touch yours.

He gulped, feeling his heart beating rapidly at the thought. He shut his eyes for a bit, trying to get rid of it before just nodding his head at you. He heard how you cheered a bit before cuddling closer to him.

“Let's take a nap first.” you mumbled, sounding so tired and sleepy.

Ni-ki opened his eyes and looked at you comfortably leaning over his shoulder, cuddling the best way you can. He smirked then scoffed before gently pressing a kiss at the top of your head.

You didn’t even realized that you fell asleep. Maybe because you are so tired and due to hunger as well. You stirred from your sleep and slowly opened your eyes when you felt that Ni-ki was not beside you. Feeling a bit scared, you roamed your eyes around and found him by the door talking with one of your classmates.

When you check the clock, it was almost 4 am. It is his time to guard the door. You pouted, feeling bad that you didn’t accompany him.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you asked him the moment you’re beside him.

He glanced at you, “You were sleeping soundly.” he answered and smiled a little before one of his hand extended to reach for you. He guided you to sit at the space near him.

You glanced at the classmate he was talking to moments before your arrival. You flashed him a smile and waved a little, “Hi.” you mumbled.

His eyes grew a bit big and his cheeks reflected a light tint of pink. “H-Hello, y/n!” he greeted you that you only returned with a smile.

Ni-ki’s brows furrowed at the reaction that the guy just showed. It was obvious that he’s interested in you. Is that why he tries to talk to him a while ago? Is he trying to somehow get close to him? He clenched his jaw and possessively snaked his arm over your waist while eyeing the guy.

“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked and even scooted closer to Ni-ki because he was pulling you towards him. You didn’t mind his action and thought of it as a normal behavior from him whenever he feels clingy with you.

“No.” Ni-ki and the guy both answered in the same time. He shoot glares at him that made him glance away nervously.

“She was asking me.” he spats towards him that made him lower his head down.

You furrowed your brows at what he said and hit his arm once. “Hey,” you tried catching his attention. He did turn his head to look at you.

“Don’t be rude.” you whispered and looked back to the guy.

“I’m sorry for his behavior. He’s just like this sometimes.” you tried apologizing in his behalf. Your classmate shake his hand telling you that it was totally fine.

“U-Uh I will just get some water.” the guy said and you gave him a nod. After he walks away, you stood up and stand right in front of Ni-ki.

He raised his head to look at you since he’s sitting down. You crossed your arms in front of him even though you saw how he seemed pissed.

“I can’t believe you’re so rude to him!”

He rolled his eyes, “So what.”

“What do you mean so what!” you spat, couldn’t believe him before tilt your head trying to catch his eyes.

“And here I thought you were already making friends a while ago.” you commented.

He glanced at you, “That’s before I knew he’s interested with you.” he uttered in a very upset tone.

Your eyes grew at what you heard. “Huh? How can you say he’s interested with me?” you sound so clueless and it makes him feel frustrated.

He groaned, “You’re always dense when it comes to guys who likes you.” he said lowly.

You scoffed at him, “Coming from you?” the sarcasm from your tone made him furrowed his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re dense too when it comes to people who likes you.”

Ni-ki tilts his head, “No, I’m not.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” and then you opened your arms asking for a hug to console the sulking baby duck.

He stared at you for a while before letting out a sigh then pulling your arm for a hug. He caged you in a tight embrace then say, “I hate it when other guys tries to get your attention.”

You gulped and blush while still inside his embrace.

“I hate it when other girls does too.” you admitted that grew a small smirk over Ni-ki’s pretty lips.

The next day, they came up with a new plan and that is to try and get a mobile phone from the faculty room which is a floor beneath where you are currently in. You are silently listening to them talking and planning something. Well, the plan sounded so dangerous for you. It will surely take risks.

“Are you sure about this?” even your homeroom teacher thinks that this plan is very risky.

“Yes. We need to at least try.” Jungwon said determined to execute this one.

“Who will go?” one asked.

For some reasons, your heart beats faster. Jungwon raised his hand without hesitation and your body frozed when you saw from your peripheral that Ni-ki raised his too.

“I can go with hyung.” Ni-ki volunteered.

You furrowed your brows as your chest ache, “No! Don’t go, Ni-ki.” you couldn’t stop yourself from bursting out. Your grip over his uniform was tight, afraid to lose it even for a little.

Ni-ki faced you then slowly cupped your face. He flashed you this warm comforting smile. “Don’t worry, okay? I will be back. We need to get a phone in order to ask for help.” he assured you.

Despite his words, you could not agree with him. Your fear is having the best of you. Just by thinking of losing him out of your sight once again just makes you feel scared. You don’t want him to go there, not when you know its his life he’s risking.

You shake your head and started crying. He smiled a little, heart aching a bit seeing you this way. He hates to see you crying, but he knows he needs to do this. If he wants you safe, he needs to take action of asking help. At a situation like this, he won’t hesitate to risk his life if he will save yours in return.

He pulled you over his chest and kissed at your head, “Its going to be okay. Please don’t cry because it will make it harder for me to go and I don’t want to go out there with the memory of you crying.” he said and slowly you tried to calm yourself.

You know you can’t do anything to stop him. The only thing left was to support him and to pray for his safe return. After managing to calm down, you glance back up at him then pouted.

“You know sometimes I hate how fearless you are.” you said and stared right at his eyes.

He smiled, but you saw a glint of sadness flashes through his eyes. “How can I be fearless if I fear of losing you?” he fired back that caught you off-guard.

Tears once again continuously flows. “I fear that too! That’s why I don’t want you to go!”

He chuckles and leaned in to place a sweet kiss at your nose. “You won’t lose me.”

You sniffed and stared right at his eyes. It took moments before you finally calm down completely and accepts that he needs to go.

The class then all helped to gather things that can help Ni-ki and Jungwon for their mission. You seriously wrap some magazines over Ni-ki’s arms. Both of you are silent. You’re not mad at him for volunteering, you’re just very worried. Tears don’t stop streaming down your face while wrapping magazines over his arms.

After finishing, you heard him let out a heavy sigh before he pulls you over his chest for an embrace. That’s when you burst out crying again.

“Shh.” he comforts you.

“J-Just make sure you come back to me, please.” you mumbled.

Ni-ki placed his lips over your head and just enjoys your warmth. “I will.”

You slowly leaned away from his hug then you glance at him, “Let’s talk when you’re back. I w-will tell you something.”

Ni-ki furrowed his brows, but his eyes still looked soft. “Can’t you tell it to me now?”

You shook your head ‘no’ right away, “Later.”

“But you got me curious now.”

“Then you have to make it back for you to know.” you stared right at his eyes.

He silently did the same thing and in the end, he sighed and nodded his head. “I’ll be back soon.”

You stood there as you watch Ni-ki and Jungwon went out from those windows. The emotions you are feeling right now was unexplainable. Your head turned over to the side when you felt someone held your hand.

“He'll be back.” (sn’s y/n) assured you.

You flashed her a smile. “He better be.”

The whole time that Ni-ki was not yet back, you can’t breath properly. You paced back and fort. Everyone was silent too, praying that both of the two boys went back safely.

The moment your eyes saw Ni-ki climbing back up, the joy in you couldn’t be put into words. You ran towards him and quickly hugged him. Sadly, Jungwon didn’t came back with him. Ni-ki said they were caught by lot of biters and his hyung run towards the hallway then asked him to go back through the window.

You were caressing his back as he tries to explain, trying to comfort him. It was evident how he felt so bad leaving him behind. After he said what happened, his friends comforted him and told him that he was not at fault. You cupped his face and scanned ever inch of it.

“I told you, I’ll be back.” he said and you didn’t respond right away. Taking your time to stare at his face before leaning slowly to place a kiss at his cheeks.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

He was caught off-guard, you can tell base on how his eyes grew a bit big. Even before he can say anything, you moved away and walked towards (jw’s y/n) to give her a tight hug. You know how bad she’s feeling right now. She cries softly and returned your hug while you say comforting things for her.

Thankfully, later on, one of your classmates remembered that there’s this drone that can be used to scan the whole building. You can check where Jungwon is and also try to find a way to get out of the building if ever there’s any.

As you all anticipate for what the drone will find, you are hoping you’ll get to see where Jungwon is. Everyone was so emerged to small screen of your classmate’s phone. You even squint your eyes a bit whenever they scream altogether due to excitement or disappointment.

You couldn’t explain how the joy in your faces appeared after getting to see that Jungwon was totally fine. Jake was even with him at the music room. The relief over Ni-ki’s face can be seen. You knew how bad he must’ve felt when he left his hyung back there.

You slid your arms over his waist to catch his attention. He turned and smiled warmly before pulling you into a hug. “He’s safe, y/n!”

You lightly taps his back with a warm smile over your lips.

“I told you he’ll be all right.” and after that, your class didn’t waste anytime to plan your next move.

Someone came up of the plan to go over the music room since its closer to the rooftop. If the authorities will come to rescue you, it would probably from the air since the whole school are packed with biters. Its too risky to travel on land and the goverment is surely not dumb to risk that much.

While everyone is preparing themselves, you felt Ni-ki stood beside and held your arm. You slowly trailed your eyes from his hand that holding you, towards him.

“Stay close to me all the time.” he reminded for the nth time. You chuckled. “I told you I will.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m serious, Y/n. I can’t protect you well if you’ll be far from me.”

You nodded, “Please look out for yourself as well.”

He stared at your eyes and gulped. The thought of confessing to you occured to him numerous times already, but he knew its not the right time to suddenly blurt it out.

After managing to lure the biters over to the other side, all of you moved carefully towards the music room. Ni-ki was in front of you, his one hand holding yours to make sure he ain’t losing you incase something happens.

It was going smoothly until one of your hit the metal railings of the stairs causing a loud sound to errupt. It caught the attention of many biters that quickly dashed towards your direction. All of you shrieked in fear and started running towards the direction of the music room.

You got pushed and all, but Ni-ki always manage to pull you back to your feet. Tears were over your eyes unable to even see clearly.

“Go to the music room, quick!” Ni-ki shouted and even gave you a light push before fighting those biters that comes after your group.

You were about to do as you told when you saw that (sn’s y/n) was stuck. You didn’t waste any time to help her. The look on her eyes when she saw you was both relief and fear. She doesn’t want you to stay back and help her. She wants you to save yourself, but you disagree. You won’t leave her behind. Nobody deserves to be left behind and besides, she’s your friend.

Thankfully, just in time the boys came to the rescue. You got her out, but due to the number of infected students running your way, it all got chaotic and you got separated from some of them.

Ni-ki pulled you towards the music room where most of your classmates went to. You are still catching your breath when he slowly pulled you into a hug, placing soft kisses at your forehead while eyes tightly shut.

“Did you see Sunoo and (sn’s y/n)?” you asked worriedly.

Ni-ki was still huffing heavily when he pulls away to cup your face, “Yes, they went up the rooftop.”

That made you relieved. At least they made it there already. Ni-ki made you sit down to rest and gather more energy. You can breath for a while because later you will go out once again to head over the building’s rooftop.

As you roam your eyes around, you can see how they’re all exhausted. If you come to think of it, you were all just normal students yesterday. Goofing, studying and spending your normal day in your school. Who would expect any of this will happen?

Your head snaps over to the side when you felt a warm hand holding your hand. It was Ni-ki.

“Hey, you good? Are you hurt?” he asked worriedly. He did saw you fell over the floor countless times.

You pouted, “I’m j-just sad...” you sighed, trying to push back the tears that once again trying to come out your eyes. “..we lost a lot.”

He sighed and pulled you so you can lean over his shoulder. He caress your back gently and rest his head at your head. “I’m so scared, Ni-ki. We don’t know what will happen next.”

“All I know is that I will always do my best to protect you.” he muttered assuring and comforting you.

One of his hand kept his hold to your hand, playing with your fingers like how he used to. His other hand was caressing your back gently.

“Thank you so much.” you mumbled and slowly moved a little so you can look at him in the eyes.

Ni-ki stared straight to your eyes as well. You two stared at each other with no words being uttered, your hearts beating in sync without being known by any of you. Ni-ki gulped, he had seen you up-close a lot of times already, but this moment seem to be a different one. Maybe due to all the things both of you went through, it all got mixed up altogether causing this unknown feeling to emerge.

You let out a sigh and slowly leaned closer placing a kiss at his cheeks. It caught him off-guard and speechless. With blushing cheeks you leaned back and acted like nothing just happened. Ni-ki was in cloud nine. That was the first time you did that and its making him crazy.

He pulled himself back together then snuggled closer if its even possible before dropping a kiss at your head and then leaned his head at yours.

“Are you sure you have the phone in that locker?” one of your classmates asked (jw’s y/n) when she suddenly remembered about the phone she said that was in their locker.

You gulped and got nervous that now that they’re planning to go and get that phone to use calling the authorities, Ni-ki might volunteer once again.

You held over his arm that made him face you, “Please don’t volunteer.” you whispered.

Yes, it may sound a little selfish. But you want to make sure he’ll stay safe too. He gave you a small smile then intertwined your hands.

“I won’t. I don’t want you to go to the rooftop without me. I want to be there to protect you.” it somehow made you relieved.

Jungwon and Sunghoon ended up going to get the phone. Your eyes followed Sunghoon silently as he walked towards to the now worried looking (sh’s y/n). You can’t blame her to look like that. You know how bad it feels to watch someone important risk their life for the group. Even if it can benefit everyone and even if you trust them, you can’t take away the fear of losing them.

Soon, you did the plan and stacked chairs that can serve as barrier at the half part of the music room. You plan to gather them all up over to that side of the room so it can clear your way over to the rooftop.

“Now!” Ni-ki tugged you towards the rooftop.

There still a few biters you encountered on your way, but the plan surely helped a lot. You yelped when you’re being pushed by some of your classmates due to panic. Ni-ki cursed and held your waist to pull you out of there. He placed you near the stairs to the rooftop, “Go on! Knock, Sunoo hyung is there. I’ll follow up.”

You’re a little hesitant to leave him while all of this are happening but he gave you an assuring smile, “I’ll follow you, baby. Don’t worry.”

“I'll see you there.” you then run towards the rooftop and was met with Sunoo who came out to help the others.

He gladly greeted you and asked you to go inside. (sn’s y/n) was there waiting so you rushed to her to give her a big hug. You are really glad to see her again.

Your head turned over to the door when they came inside. Ni-ki’s eyes quickly searched for you and you run towards him to greet him. He caged you over his embrace.

You thought it was all going according to plan, not until you realized that (sh’s y/n) was left back there. The worst part is two of your own classmates planned to do it. It was too cruel for you since they can even think of doing such things despite of being in this situation. Evil truly don’t choose any time.

Soon, Jungwon and Sunghoon arrived. As expected he was at rage knowing about what happened. Ni-ki cursed and lets go from your hold when he saw his hyung going back to to go get (sh’s y/n). You watch silently. He didn’t stop him and just cursed again.

“If something bad happened to Sunghoon hyung, its all your fault.” he told (random name) and you walked towards him to hold his arm.

Everyone fell silent after it and you sat down over the corner while you wait for help to come. Jungwon managed to make a call and you’re hoping help will arrive in no time.

You were leaning over Ni-ki, enjoying the warmth he was giving while snuggling close to you.

“I just remembered,” he suddenly broke the silence between the two of you.

“What?” you asked.

“Before I left the audio-visual room, you told me you will tell me something.”

Your eyes grew a bit after remembering it as well. Heart instantly racing, you got caught off-guard. You’re suddenly having second thoughts on confessing. You were spacing out a bit, but at the end you decided to give it a go. All of these happened already. Being rejected should be the least of your concern. And you and Ni-ki had bee through a lot due to this outbreak, right? There’s no way he will cut you off that easily.

You sighed and slowly pulled away from him. With heart racing, you faced him making sure you can see his eyes. Ni-ki’s heart were racing for unknown reason as well. He have a lot in mind. What could it be that you want to tell him? Whatever it is, he made up his mind that he will confess right after you say it.

“I’m in love with you.”

Ni-ki was beyond surprise. He was speechless. The sentences he was forming inside his mind for confessing suddenly dissipated. He couldn’t explain his own feelings.

You blinked and got nervous right away. You pursed your lips, “It’s o-okay if you don’t feel the same way! I understand—” your words were cut off when his lips were not over yours.

Your eyes grew and you’re stoned at your position. When he tilt his head to give you a deeper kiss, you snapped back to reality and managed to return his kiss for a few seconds before he leaned away.

“I’m in love with you as well, dummy.”

You blushed hard despite of his annoying nickname. He smirked and was about to lean in for another kiss, but you stopped him using a hand over his chest.

“What? F-For how long?” you asked curious.

Ni-ki rolles his eyes, “From the time you cried over that stupid kite.”

Your mouth fell, “That was fifth grade!” you couldn’t believe what you just learned.

He chuckled and cupped your face so he can give you kisses over your cheeks and chin. “Yes. I was pretty damn crazy ever since.”

You pouted, blushing hard. “And all along I thought you’re not interested in me.”

“All along I thought you like Sunoo hyung.”

That was another shock for you. “What?! Is that why you are rude to him sometimes?”

He glanced away, guilty. You smirked and tried to catch his eyes. “I can’t believe you got jealous with your own friend.”

He furrowed his brows and looked at you, “How can I not? You are so touchy with him!”

“It's because he’s my friend!”

“Tsk.” he clicked his tongue before pulling you into a tight hug, “From now on, you have to distance yourself from him.”

You chuckled nuzzling over his chest, “All right. Only because you’re cute.”

“I love you, Ni-ki.” you said while leaning over his chest. You can hear his heartbeat. It was beating for you.

“I love you more, y/n.” he mumbled and placed a kiss at the top of your head. And just in time, you heard the sound of a helicopter from a far.

part one › here

main master-list

apocalypse master-list

#enhypen #enhypenwriters #eeunoiaverse #eeunoiawrites #eeunoia #enhypen imagines #enhypen fic #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen nishimura riki #enhypen niki x reader #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen niki #enhypen yang jungwon #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen jay park #enhypen park sunghoon #enhypen kim sunoo

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fangirlings-things · 4 years ago

Text

— Lost Without You I

anon said: hey! could you please write a song fic with anthony bridgerton, I don't have any specific song in mind, but just some angst would be perfect because you write it soooo beautifully :') hope this is ok, kissess

A/N: hey, love!! I faced this as somewhat as a challenge and it was quite amazing to write!! thank you sooo much for your words, I sincerely hope you like this 💖

*this is supposed to have two parts, so if you guys like it and want the rest, please let me know your thoughts 🥰 lots of love

TAG LIST: @for-bebbanburg ; @venusflwer ; @avrilstaro || GIF CREDIT: @fifty5hades

This is based in Freya Ridings song, Lost Without you

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x female reader

Word count: 6.3K

Summary: One would need to be Lady Whistledown to know about the ever existent bond between the eldest Bridgerton son, Anthony, and Lady (Y/N) Kerrington. They made a good work at hiding their intentions even from their own families. According to their plan, when the Miss came to age, they would marry each other quite fastly, since they had been courting one another through the entirety of their lives. (Y/N) Kerrington thought so too, but the Viscount's actions and decisions, changed it all.

[ I ]

“Have you two gone completely mad?”

Turning around, within the heavy rain and through the drops of water that kept falling from the sky and soaked your whole body, seeming to permanently attach your dress to your skin, you saw Anthony Bridgerton standing at the back door of his own house, protected by the rain.

He had his forehead frowned in confusion as he stared at you and his sister, Daphne, whom stood by your side at the Bridgerton’s garden. His hair was a bit of a mess, like he had been sleeping recently and his hands were on his waist. His eyes, deep brown eyes that made him look a lot older than he really was by the intensity they carried, were fixed upon you.

“Join us, brother!” Daphne invited, laughing as she turned her face upwards and enjoyed the feel of the rain directly on her features. Her arms were open alongside her body, as she embraced the rain. That was something you both liked doing together, ever since your early childhood days.

“No, I will not sister and you two really should get out of there before you fall ill!” her older brother replied and the tangible worry in his voice made you smile more largely than you did before.

“It could be fun, Anthony!” you said to him and with a spark of joy, did not fail to notice how he squeezed his lips on a thin line for a moment at hearing you call him by his first name. Such thing could be seen as a lack of manners that being if, you had not known each other through the entirety of your lives, which allowed you to comfortable around every single member of the Bridgerton family.

Your family, the Kerrington’s, had been the Bridgerton’s neighbor even before you had been born. Both families, that had a similar amount of money and same high position in society, had always been closely bond to one another. You had grown up with Daphne as your best friend, frequenting her house or she yours almost every single day. Her siblings had always been nice to you and you loved them all as if they were your own siblings.

But not Anthony.

Oh no, Anthony was a completely different thing.

There was nothing brotherly in the way you thought of him and such thoughts were only intensified by some situations you found yourself in like this very one, where he seemed to be genuinely considering your words after having just denied his sister’s. Little actions that instigated your fantasies.

“If I do, only for a moment, will you come back to the house with me afterwards?” he questioned, ever so serious, looking from you to his sister and then back at you.

You looked at Daphne who had turned her head back down and as soon as she smiled mischievously at you and raised her eyebrows, you turned back to Anthony. “We swear!”

Anthony nodded his head in agreement and then sighted heavily. His eyes went to the dark sky for a few moments, the entirety of it made of grey clouds filled with drops of water that had not yet fallen. You watched with the most absolute attention as he mumbled something to himself under his breath before finally stepping away from the house’s protection and starting to make his way towards you both.

When he reached you and Daphne, his hair was already soaked with water and was attached to his forehead. Drops of water ran down his handsome face. His white shirt was now as good as nothing, the details of his arms and chest now exposed to your wanting eyes. “Is it enough?”

“You did not have fun yet” Daphne argued immediately and with the same smile as before on her lips, kicked a puddle of water, splashing quite some in his already wet pants. The angry expression on his face made her laugh loudly her unique laugh.

You laughed also, and then found his gaze landing on yours once more. “Are you on her side, (Y/N)?” a drop of water right in that moment ran down his nose and fell in the grass. He stood close, closely than you had noticed before. Just two steps, and you could have touched his chest.

As you lost yourself in such a tempting and inappropriate thought, Lady Bridgerton appeared on the back door, in the exact same spot Anthony had been before, her mouth hanging open in shock for moment as she saw what has occurring on her own garden. “What is happening? Anthony Bridgerton! You allowed your sister and Miss (Y/N) to such recklessness?” Anthony did not even turn around at hearing his mother’s angry voice, just sighted once again and looked at Daphne when she laughed hard like before. “Come inside right now, the three of you, before you fall ill!”

“My exact same words” Anthony said, eyes on the grass, as you three obediently walked back to the inside of the Bridgerton’s house.

“Sorry to get you in trouble, brother” Daphne said, but both her tone and expression made it clear that she had not even a bit of regret. When reaching the back door, she was the first one to rush inside and disappear in the corridors after getting a blanket from her mother, leaving a trail of water behind her.

“I apologize, Anthony” you said, smile having completely faded away now. Eyes on the floor because you refused to look him in the eye. You took no pleasure in causing him any kind of trouble, especially with his mother, whom now had stepped away to get another two blankets.

Anthony did realize your afflictions, because he instantly replied. “All is well, (Y/N), do not worry” the softness of his tone made you raise your eyes. You were surprised to find him smiling at you. “By the end of the night, my mother will have forgiven me already”

You smiled because of the confidence on his voice. “I am glad”

You both went silent then, the heavy rain outside continuing to fall and the distant thunders seeming to be as loud as ever. With your eyes locked in one another’s, none of you said a thing. It was a peaceful moment, an intimate one. Shared by just the two of you.

“Oh, my dear, you must be freezing!” Lady Violet Bridgerton came back with two other blankets and carefully placed one around your shoulders, wrapping you in it and without even knowing, ruining one of the best moments you could think of. “What will your mother think of my hospitality if she finds out what has happened in my own garden! Come, Daphne will borrow you a dress for the evening” as she made you walk away after having given the other blanket to Anthony, you could feel his gaze burning your back.

Oh, how you wished to turn back around and stare into his eyes in peaceful silence once more.

[ II ]

“Are you nervous about the next season?” Daphne asked as she looked at you from the couch she sat in, in one of the many rooms in the Bridgerton’s house.

Having taken your place in the very couch that faced hers, you sighted. “Of course” you looked down at your hands, that were joined in your lap. “We are to be wed in the next season already. How could I not be” a pure nervous laugh escaped your mouth as you admitted so. In hopes that no one would see, by the corner of your eye, you looked over at Anthony, who was sitting at a small table, reading a book. He was always your dream when you thought of marriage.

“You should not worry too much, (Y/N)” Benedict, who had been playing with Gregory for the past twenty minutes, came to sit by your side in a relaxed position. “You will have many suitors, I am sure. Daphne, though…” the unfinished sentence had the desired effect, because Daphne opened her mouth with an offended expression and you laughed with Benedict. In your own mind, you thanked him for being so good and helping to ease some of your tension.

“While (Y/N) marries a gentleman, Daphne will find herself being courted by an old man with no hair left in his head” Colin joined the fun and Daphne’s only response was to roll her eyes and cross her arms over her chest. Benedict though, once again laughed loudly.

“Benedict and Colin Bridgerton, stop making fun of your sister!” Lady Bridgerton said from her spot at the other side of the room as she walked towards your small group. Her expression though betrayed her tone, because she had a small pleased smile on her lips. “I am sure both of them will find a very good match and will be happily wed by the end of the next season, with gentlemens of the highest esteem”

"I hope so, mama" Daphne said truly, smiling at her mother. In the same moment, the sound of a chair being dragged against the floor caught everyone's attention and you all looked in that direction in time to see Anthony storming out the room. You frowned as you wondered what had happened, concern filling your being before you could even control your own emotions.

Not wanting to cause a fush about it, since all the others had apparently ignored his departure as something ordinary, you waited a few minutes in which you pretended to hear the words spoken by Benedict and his mother before you excused yourself and once out in the corridors, started to look for Anthony.

You found him on the library, his face was turned away from you but you could quite well imagine his mood by whatever it was that afflicted him, for the way he moved, tense and yet fast. That was not like Anthony Bridgerton at all.

"Anthony?" you called while entering the room, unsure if you should even disturb him in such time. He had gone away with the clear intention of being alone but still... you could not help it. You had to know he was well.

The sound of your voice made him turn around in the exact same instant and he went to you with a serious expression on his features, so serious it only served to increase your concern. "Anthony, what is—" before you could even finish, he walked past you and for a second you thought he was going to leave but then, he surprised you by closing the door and shuting you both inside. Alone. His expression did not change at all. You stared at him like was crazy. "Anthony, what are you doing? If your mother finds out we are in here alone she will never allow me into your house again!"

And you could not even bare that thought. Yes, Lady Violet was a nice woman, she had never objected you and Daphne at playing with the boys when you were children and as you grown up, she found it pleasing that all of you enjoyed each other's company so much but still, now that you were practically of age to marry, to be without a chaperone in a closed room with a man who was not from your family, it was a scandal. Even if that man was the one you loved with all your heart and had known since forever.

"(Y/N)" he said, taking a deep breath and walking towards you, ignoring your previous words like they meant nothing. He clearly did not see the danger. He stopped a mere step away, looking into your eyes with such meaning you suddenly found it difficult to breathe. His eyes, were as troubled as a storm day. It confused you. "I—" he stopped, took anothet deep breath, looked at his feet. Then he raised his eyes to yours again with renewed determination. "I want to—" again, he seemed to lack the words to finish his thought and clearly frustrated, looked away once more, this time at a point above your head.

All of his actions and words made no sense at all to you and frankly, you started to wonder if he was not drunk, even though you had not seen him drinking. "Anthony, you are concerning me" you said simply, and that statement made in a low, careful tone seemed to be enough to make him snap out of whatever it was that was holding him back.

"I want you to make me a promise, (Y/N)" you opened your mouth to ask him what he meant by that but he was quicker and shockingly taking your hands in his as he kept staring into your eyes, answered to your unspoken question. "I want you to promise me that if I propose to you, you will at least perhaps consider marrying me"

All air left your lungs. Surely, you had heard it wrong. There was no way Anthony Bridgerton, your ever being passion, had just expressed his intentions of proposing to you in the future. That could not be true. Dreams are not realized just like that.

"A-Anthony..." you began, heart pounding in your chest like never before.

The Bridgerton mistook your surprise by hesitation and immediately let go of your hands and stepped back, creating some distance between you both. "I apologize for being so forward. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable"

"Uncomfortable? Anthony, I do not believe I have ever been happier!" as it was his turn to frown in confusion, you were the one who approached him and smiled brightly while looking into his eyes. "I promise, of course! I want to marry you, Anthony. I really do" you looked down and slowly, joined your hands together like he had done before. "Deep down, I believed you had already noticed my affection towards you"

"It crossed my mind once or twice, but I thought it was just my mind fooling me. I dared not to believe you felt the same way I did" he chuckled, happily. You thought you had never seen him with a smile as big as that one on his face. "Hearing my brothers and mother talking about you marrying someone else in there, I could not stand it" he admitted, and a glimpse of shame seemed to cross his features for a moment. "In the next season, when you will be presented in society, I will propose to you. And if you desire to, we will get married"

Trying to control your own happiness, that was immesurable because everything seemed to be perfect, you nodded your head in agreement. "We will get married"

[ III ]

The months were passing too fast. Already, you had only a few months before the season in which you would be presented in society and it would be expected of you to be well married soon.

I will marry Anthony, you thought to yourself with a smile on your face as you enjoyed the peace and quiet of your bedroom for a while. Staring at the ceiling above your head, you had no doubt that everything would work out just fine.

If he was a man of no fortune, your father and mother (your mother especially) would for certain object to your union. But he was Bridgerton, their status and wealth were as high as your own if not bigger and so, there would absolutely be no arguing. You dared to say, she would even be thrilled by the fact that you were going to marry the one day to be Viscount.

Nothing could go wrong, you thought to yourself while smiling still. He loved you. Just as you loved him. With the same intensity and amount of desire, you had seen it in his eyes when he had spoken his mind in the Bridgerton library. You would be happy together, really happy.

Knocks on the door got your attention. "Sister, mind if I come in?"

Immediately in surprise, you sat up and laughing softly because of the joy that hearing his voice brought you, spoke. "Do come in!"

The door was opened then, and you watched as your brother slipped inside of your room, smiling down at you with a warm smile. Without saying a word he opened his arms and you without a moment of hesitation, threw yourself in his arms and hugged him tightly. "I have missed you too, dear" he said with a laugh escaping his mouth.

Only after several moments you stepped back, to be able to really look at him. Thomas Kerrington, your older brother, was smiling as he looked at you. He wore his uniform, and he looked beautiful in it. The pride of the family, the youngest soldier ever made Coronel because of his courage and whom recieved the command of complete troops of soldiers only weeks later. Since he had joined the Royal Army, you barely saw him twice a year. He was too valuable to be away from action often and you understood that but still, you missed your brother.

"How long will you be staying?" you asked while pulling him towards your bed by the hand, and making him sit down with you.

"Just a couple of days" he answered, smile fading a bit just as you did. Thomas still squeezed your hand in his. "My regiment is being moved and as we are going to be facing hard months soon, I thought it would be nice to see my family" he watched your eyes for a few moments and then, opened a bright smile again and put the sadness aside, like it was typical of Thomas. He always knew how to bring happiness into a room. "Are you excited for the next season?" the young Coronel was not married himself. Having since very soon been involved in the Army's business and interests, court a wife had not been a priority to him and still was not.

"I am, actually" you admitted, looking down at your joined hands as all your thoughts about Anthony and the prospect of marrying him came rushing back into your mind. You and Thomas had always been close, really close. He was a incredible brother who loved his little sister very much and was always there for her. The thought of confiding in someone seemed nice, and whom could be better to do that with than your brother? "I already know who I want to marry, brother"

"Is that so?" raising your eyes to meet his, you saw that he was still smiling. "And is he a good man?" you nodded your head, and Thomas inspected your eyes with his. "Are you sure he will make you happy, sister?"

"I have no doubt" you replied, confident.

Thomas chuckled by your certainty. "Very well then, I guess I have no reason to object to such union" he passed one of his arms around your shoulders and brought you close to him, so you would lay your head on his shoulder. It was so good, to have him there in that moment. "Will you tell me his name, perhaps?"

You thought about it for a moment. He was your brother, you were sure he would not tell anyone. And even though he and Anthony had never been very close friends, they always got along well. But you should not, not when you and Anthony had come into an agreement of keeping it a secret. At least for now. "Come back during the season and, perhaps, you will get here in time to our wedding" you said and the sound of Thomas laugh filled the bedroom.

"Does it have a date already?" accompanying him in laughter, you appreciated your brother's presence. Very much.

[ IV ]

"It does sound like an interest book" you told Eloise with honesty, after having just read some pages of the book she had been reading herself and after some discussion about the quality of it with Daphne, asked you to give an opinion on it.

"Thank you, (Y/N)" Eloise smiled brightly at you and then extended the smile towards Daphne, who sitting on the couch across from you two, rolled her eyes because you had taken her sister's side. "At least you know how to appreciate a good book"

"Perhaps you should consider respecting my opinion, Eloise" Daphne told her younger sibling, with a bit of annoyance in her voice. Those two were always bickering with each other and you, as the oldest best friend, was always around to witness it.

"I do respect your opinion, sister, I simply think that it is not a wise one" you gave the book back to the younger Bridgerton while she said so.

Daphne seemed to be ready to give her a proper reply when Anthony entered the room. His eyes met yours and he smiled tenderly at you for a moment before looking at his sisters. "Have you both seen mother and father?"

"They went to accompany the Kerrington's to the market" Daphne said, referring to your parents, and you nodded in agreement.

"Oh, well" he placed his hands on his waist and sighted. "I shall wait for them to return, then"

"Continuing to plan your travel, brother?" Eloise asked, opening the book back to the page in which she had stopped reading.

"Travel?" you could not stop yourself before echoing the word, surprise quickly taking a hold of you. Your eyes went to Anthony instantly and by the expression on his face, you saw that he was not pleased with Eloise for having said so much.

"Anthony has decided he is going to travel for a while, explore the world alone and live some adventures perhaps" Daphne said, also turning around to look at her brother. "Colin will not stop talking about how much he wants to do the same one day"

"Oh, I see" it took all you had to maintain a natural, comfortable expression on your face. He was going to travel. Just a few months before the season in which you should be married. How long would he stay away? When would he return? Would he ever? All of those thoughts filled your mind and made your heartbeat get faster and faster. You dared not to say anything. No one knew about your intentions to marry one another, and you had agreed to keep it in that way.

Anthony, knowing you so well, clearly saw through your contained emotion. "I just remembered, (Y/N)! Benedict is asking for your opinion in one of his latest sketches, will you accompany me?" it was a lie. You could see that it was, even though his sisters did not see through the fake smile on his face.

Forcing a smile and nodding in agreement briefly, you got up, telling Daphne you would be right back, to which she agreed. After that, you followed Anthony out of the room and to one of the corridors close to the kitchen, where there was no one else by that time. Anthony stopped there, turned around to look at you and sighted heavily because of your sad expression. "I did not mean for you to find out like that"

You raised your eyes to meet his at that, in pure disbelief. "And how was I supposed to find out? Through Daphne, when you had already left?"

"I was going to tell you tomorrow, at dinner" he said in a rush, looking around after a moment to make sure there was absolutely no one there. He took the time to make sure his voice was low as he spoke. "Nothing has changed, (Y/N). I will marry you. This travel, it will take two months, maybe a bit more but nothing great. The season is in three months. I will be back in time, I promise"

You stared into his eyes deeply, worry filling your expression still. Under your inspection, he seemed so genuine and decided. It felt like he had everything planned, had thought everything through. "Are you sure this is what you want?" you asked then, not thinking of yourself, but of him. Travels made alone could be dangerous. And if something happened to him... you did not even wanted to consider that idea.

"I am, (Y/N)" he stepped even closer to you and held your hands, like he had a habit of to. You did like the familiarity of that simple touch. "I want to marry you, but first, I would like to see the world. Later, I shall be all yours"

The honesty in his voice made you smile, emotion was so strong your eyes went blurry with tears. "Then you must go. Do as you desire and when you get back, I will be eager to know all about what you have seen"

Anthony smiled. Letting go of one of your hands and bringing it to cup your face, he sighted. "You are the goodest person I have ever known"

You smiled, leaning into his touch.

Before, you had been nervous by the arrival of the social season. Now, all you wanted was for it to come quickly. As quickly as possible.

[ V ]

"If I may say, you look astonishing tonight, Lady Kerrington" Lord Edwards said, with a polite smile on his lips after having just given you a glass of a drink he had gotten from the Queen's table.

The ball had begun sometime around an hour before. The ball thrown by the Queen herlself that declared opened the social season. You were now, officially able to be courted and expected to be married by the end of it, if you had success. You had gone with your mother and father and as they had stepped away to talk to some friends, you had been left alone in the room and seeing the opportunity, Lord Edwards had approached you.

He was a gentleman, Lord Edwards. He was young, handsome, quite wealthy and his manners were flattering. By a young Lady's, like yourself, point of view, he should be the perfect husband. But not for you.

Because he was not Anthony.

Just to think of his name, it brought back the pain of missing him. Since the day in which he left for his travel, you had not seen him again. Of course, his journey had been cut short because his father, the Viscount Bridgerton, had died tragically all of the sudden, at a young age. It made Anthony have to make the arrangements to return sooner than expected.

And he did. A month and a half after he had parted, he was forced to return because he was now, the Viscount. As the eldest son, he had the responsibility of being there for his family, especially in such a tragic time.

Until this very day, you had not seen him since his return. As Daphne's best friend, you were still always in the Bridgerton residence, after her father's death even more, because you provided the young Lady the comfort she needed. There, you only caught glimpes of him once or twice, a rushed greeting that ended up with him leaving the room seconds later.

You did not blame him for it, of course not. His life had changed so much and so suddenly that it would be a challenge for everyone in his position. He should concentrate in the matters of importance for his family, it was needed. You would not bother him with affairs that were not urgent at the time. No, everything was set, also. He would propose sometime after doing some courting in the season, and you two would get happily married. And that would be it.

Looking around the ballroom, everytime the doors were opened you would look, expecting to see Daphne arrive. It would be nice to have a friend in the same situation you were in. As Lord Edwards went on in a conversation about his great interest in social events, you looked down at your dress. It was a beautiful blue dress, made with soft fabric. The little details here and there made it even more beautiful. Part of your hair had been pulled up and placed there delicately while leaving the rest of strands released freely, in a hair style that you did not fail to notice, got quite some attention from some of the other young Ladys.

Lord Edwards had just began his affirmation of how much he enjoyed the city rather than the country, when the doors were again opened and this time when you looked, your expectations were indeed achieved.

Daphne had just arrived. She looked absolutely gorgeous, making you smile instantly. At her right side stood her mother, Lady Bridgerton, ever an elegant woman and at her left side, stood Anthony.

Oh, the way your pulse accelerated at the sight of him. He was absolutely handsome, wearing the most formal clothes he had. His dark hair was as always that elegant mess you never got enough of. His eyes were inspecting the room, you smiled thinking that perhaps, he could be looking for you.

"Will you excuse me, Lord Edwards?" you said suddenly to the Lord, interrupting him in the middle of a sentence and he, a bit sad and yet completely polite, just nodded his head and bid you farewell.

You found yourself walking towards the small Bridgerton group, feet seeming to carry you there on their own even though you did know it would be reasonable to wait. But no, you could not help it.

"(Y/N) you look absolutely gorgeous!" Daphne exclaimed when she saw you, smiling as you stopped right in front of her. "Look, Mama, how beautiful she is!" you felt your cheeks get a bit red under your friend's compliments and the fact that you knew, that Anthony was hearing them and beside her, inspected you with his eyes also.

"My Lady Kerrington, how your mother must be proud of having such a lovely daughter!" Lady Bridgerton said, and that filled you with joy.

"I am sure you should be the one who is proud, Lady Bridgerton, because I have no doubt in my mind that Daphne will be the diamond of the season" your friend smiled as she made sense to your words and then, as you fell silent for a moment, you turned to her left to look at Anthony, whom had stayed silent until them. As your eyes met, it was as if sparks were flying all around you. "Viscount Bridgerton"

"Lady Kerrington" he replied. The kind of smile you expected to see in his features was not there. His eyes did not stare at you for a long while before he looked away. That was unsual. Before you could make up some conversation, a Lord came closer and asked Daphne for a dance. You watched with a smile as he stepped away with the man and then, as Lady Bridgerton came into a conversation with Lady Danbury, Anthony surprised you by stepping closer to you. "Lady Kerrington, mind if we have a word?"

"Of—" you did not even finished before he had already began to walk away from the doors, where the greatest amount of people were gathered around. Frowning, you rushed as graciously as you could after him, stopping only to leave your glass, that had been given to you by Lord Edwards, on a table.

Anthony only stopped walking when you were both close to one of the walls of the room, just enough away from others so no one could hear what you spoke about or if they did, would not pay much attention to it. Facing each other, after so long, it felt amazingly good. "It is nice to see you, (Y/N)" his voice was low, so no one would hear him call you by your first name.

You smiled, eyes meeting in a way that made your heart beat even faster, which you did not think was quite possible. "It is nice to see you too, Anthony" your voice was as low as he was. "I have missed—"

"I have to tell you something, (Y/N)" he cut you off shortly, eyes not on yours them. There was something in Anthony that did not seem like him at all. His jaw was clenched, his body was all uptight. He seemed more distant to you now than he had ever been in his travel on the other side of the world.

"Very well" you took a moment to be able to get those words out, because all of your happiness had already began to slip away. Surely, there were bad news coming ahead. The way he looked... or even better, did not look at you, that could not mean nothing good. "What is it?"

Anthony did not speak quite instantly. He looked around the room for a while, then took a deep breath. "I can not marry you, (Y/N)"

That felt like a punch. Right to your stomach, making you sick and your head spin like you had suddenly been privated from air itself. And even though you had to fight back the tears of confusion that dared to fall from your eyes, Anthony did not seem to share your emotion at all. He looked stern, decided.

"W-what happened?" you asked, voice trembling and honestly one string away from failing completely. He did not say anything. You were the one to take a deep breath then. "Anthony, look me in the eye" and only then he did. He looked right at you and you felt your heart break in a million pieces. "I understand if because of your father and your new title, you do not find marriage the most important thing right now. I really understand. You must have enough duties and responsibilities at the moment. But there is no problem. I will wait for you, Anthony. I will—"

"I do not want you to wait for me, (Y/N)" Anthony's tone was decisive. "It has nothing to do with my father or my responsibilities"

Your confusion only grew more and more and what you thought would be an amazing evening, was quickly revealing itself to be an awful one. "Then what—"

"I have someone else" he said and before you could even take in that information, he went on with his narrative. "I met her after I came back from my travel, in the occasion of my father's death. I have been with her ever since. I was with her before I came here today. I have been avoiding you all this time, because I did not have the courage to tell you about this. But I figured that this could no longer be postponed"

Your vision was so blurry you could not even see his face clearly. He had someone else. He did not want to marry you. "You said you loved me" were the words you spoke. You hoped no one was looking at you two because if they were, you had no doubt about how crushed you looked.

That simple phrase seemed to finally get a reaction from Anthony. He looked away from you for another moment, took another deep breath. And then, looked back into your eyes. "I am sorry, (Y/N). But she is the one that I truly love" and even though he showed a small reaction then, it was not even close to the amount required to such matter. He was dealing with you as if you were a simple affair that had to be taken care of. He had indeed become the Viscount, after all.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, spent countless silent moments trying to fight back the tears. And you stared into Anthony's eyes, and made him see just how much you loved him. Just how much he had hurt you. "I wish you happiness, Viscount Bridgerton"

You saw that Anthony swallowed dry. "(Y/N)..."

But you did not stay to hear what he had to say. You turned around and without being able to contain yourself made a run to the door, attracting everyone's attention to you. Tears fell from your eyes and you were so desoriented that you ran right into someone's chest. Cleaning the tears away with your hands, you met Lord Edwards eyes. "Lady Kerrington, are you well?" Without answering him, you continued to run to the door and only stopped when you felt the cold air of the night on your skin.

You cried, hurt by a man who had just made clear he did not want to marry you. He did not want you at all. You wanted to leave. You wanted to lock yourself in your bedroom and not get out anytime soon. Maybe never.

But most of all, what you really wanted but could not have, was your older brother. The comfort only he could give you in that moment.

[ VI ]

Dear readers,

From this author's perspective, after last night's ball, this social season looks quite promising. Young Ladies were presented into society in search of husbands, mothers have inspected their suitors and the Queen watched it all from her throne, seeming entertained. The night was filled with courting and dances, really a magical night for all the debutantes'.

It came to this author's ears though, that the night was not so magical for everyone. It seems that the young Lady Kerrington and Viscount Bridgerton were seen sharing a very meaningful conversation before she left the event in tears. What did they say to each other, is the question that remains. More specifically, what could the Viscount have said that made the young Lady feel so heartbroken?

Let us be attentive to the upcoming events, dear readers. If I learn to know something interesting in the future, and I always do, you all will the be the ones I share the not so secret with.

This author was a feeling, that many more scandals are yet to come.

Lady Whistledown

#imagine #x reader #fanfic #imagines #one shot #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic #bridgerton one shot #anthony bridgerton #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton one shot

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years ago

Text

nobody wants to hear you sing about tragedy

read on ao3

Eddie’s fine. Really. He’s got a fresh scar on his right shoulder, a twin to his other one, and a couple more medical bills to pay off, but other than that, everything is good.

Why shouldn’t it be? Things could be worse — he could’ve lost his arm, could’ve been shot in the spine instead, could’ve not survived the trip to the hospital. But he did — he’s healed, he’s still breathing, and he’s ready to get back to work on Monday, to stop staring at the inside of his house and get back to the life he’d finally started to feel settled in. There’s a twinge in his chest every time he thinks about actually being back out in the field, but it’s just nerves, a small worry at getting back into the swing of things. He knows the team and how well they work together, so he’s sure one rope rescue with Buck is all it’ll take to feel normal again.

He’s fine. Or almost fine. Really, he is. He doesn’t let the tremble in his hands or the ice in his gut tell him otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t really register, the first time it happens. There’s a glint of light in his periphery, and for a second, his arms go numb. It’s just a second, though — he sees the flash again, sunlight shining off an axe Ravi is packing onto the truck, and he moves on, doesn’t think about it again.

The next time, the wind whips by his ear a little too fast after a call at the pier, and he turns around so quickly he cracks his neck, the thought of bulletbulletbullet ricocheting in his head. It gets him a concerned look from Bobby and reminds him that he never called that therapist his doctor mentioned at his last visit, but he elects to deal with it later and moves on.

Things keep happening, but they’re all small, insignificant — someone laughing too loudly at dinner, the feel of hot asphalt under his hands as he reaches under the ambulance for a runaway bandage roll, a phantom jolt of pain in his shoulder when someone accidentally jostles him running to the truck.

Tiny things, meaningless, not even worth remembering.

He’ll get used to them, eventually. He’s been healing, isolated from the real world for months now, it’s going to be a bit of a shock to his system and his senses.

He doesn’t call the therapist.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s happy. Genuinely happy, in an open, honest way that Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever seen. His laughs are still loud but they’re freer, unrestrained, and his smile is bright enough to light whatever room he’s in. It makes something sing in Eddie’s chest, especially when all that wattage gets directed at him. If he’s honest, the music’s been there for a while, it just took lying in his own blood, reaching toward the only thing that felt like safety, for him to finally put a name on the song that’s been playing.

Talk about shitty timing.

Because Buck’s with Taylor now, and as much as he still doesn’t care for her, she’s helping with Buck’s new attitude too. He sees the soft smiles that linger after a text from her, and he only gives himself a minute to wish it were for him instead before reminding himself how much of a miracle those smiles are at all.

If he had watched Buck get shot, been splattered with his blood, been soaked with it as he tried to stop it from leaking out of his chest, he’s not sure he would’ve had any kind of happiness to spare.

So he adds this feeling, this particularly green beast twisting in his chest, to the list of things that he’s just going to have to get used to, and moves on. Buck is still in his and Chris’ life, still at their house more than his own, still the center of both of their worlds, and that’s enough.

It has to be.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Wow, Eddie, you look like shit.”

He glares at Chimney as best he can, but he’s too tired for it to hold any heat. “Good morning to you too, Chim.”

Hen sits next to him at the table where he’s nursing his second mug of coffee of the day, downing the first one before driving Chris to school. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, and he tries not to melt into the touch too much.

“You don’t feel warm,” she says, “but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

He shrugs, staring down at his coffee. “Just haven’t been sleeping well.”

That may be an understatement. Not sleeping well implies sleeping at all, which Eddie’s not sure he’s been able to do in the past few days. It was easy enough when he first got home, still on pain meds that made his eyelids constantly heavy. And when Chris crawled into his bed the night after his sling came off, quiet but sniffling and burrowing into his side, it was a relief to gather him up close, a hand stroking through his hair as they both drifted off, clinging to each other. It was good for both of them, necessary to remind them both that Eddie is still here, but Chris went to his own room on Monday night instead of Eddie’s, and Eddie refused to take that choice away from him.

So he’s been alone, in a too dark room with a too big bed and a too loud brain that only shows him flashes of light and blood and fear whenever he does try to close his eyes.

Just another thing he has to get used to.

He sees Chim and Hen exchange a look and hopes to God they don’t press it. He’s beyond frayed, his state of exhaustion warring with his almost constant state of hypervigilance, and he’s not sure if he’d snap or cry or both if they try to ask him any more questions. Either way, that’s not how he wants them or anyone else to see him, especially not at work. At work, he’s Mr. Cool, always level headed, always in the game, always on top of it. Despite the jumpiness, despite the sense of dread that seems to be a permanent fixture under his skin, he’s been able to keep that attitude going, even getting lost in it sometimes, feeling like the Eddie of four months ago again. If that starts to unravel, who knows what other parts of him will fall apart with it?

Luckily, they seem to get the hint, a pat on the back and a squeeze on the shoulder as they leave the loft to restock the ambulance. But even once they’re gone and he’s alone in the quiet of the loft again, Eddie feels exposed. Fragile. Vulnerable. Teetering on the edge of an abyss he can’t afford to fall into. And he hates it, because this isn’t him. He’s the protector, the provider, the guy who’s survived getting shot twice now, and as much as he encourages Chris to be open and emotional, it still feels wrong to him, like something too close to failure. He knows, rationally, that talking about the mess in his head would probably help, but it would also feel like a loss. Like this one-sided war he’s been fighting was all for nothing.

He hears Buck before he sees him, his unmistakable bounding up the stairs echoing through the whole loft. Just that sound, just the knowledge that Buck is about to be in his vicinity, is enough to yank Eddie back from the edge. He’s not settled or calm or better, but he’s not worse. These days, that’s all he can really ask for.

Buck takes Hen’s vacant seat, stealing a sip of coffee and chattering about a traveling art exhibit he thinks they should take Chris to. Eddie feels the vice on his ribs loosen, letting Buck’s voice and enthusiasm wash over him, pushing him back to center. He doesn’t quite make it, not when Buck stops talking mid-sentence, brow furrowed and looking so intensely at Eddie he can probably see right through him

“You look tired,” Buck says.

Tired isn’t a strong enough word. But he smirks half heartedly instead, willing a little bit of his confidence back to get the subject changed sooner. “And here I thought I looked good today.”

“No, you always—“ Buck clears his throat and shakes his head, “You just look like you could use a nap. Are you okay?”

And for the first time since he woke up in the hospital with a new hole in his body and extra demons in his head, Eddie doesn’t want to say he’s fine. In the face of earnest blue eyes and worry lines, he doesn’t want to lie, and that’s exactly what an I’m fine would be, no matter how much he’s been trying to ignore it. He doesn’t want to downplay and pretend that it’s nothing, because it’s Buck. Buck who has seen him lower than he’s ever let anyone see, who slept on his couch so he was never too far away from him or Chris, who knows when Eddie needs to be pulled or pushed or pressed or none of the above.

He doesn’t want to just say he’s fine, because he’s not.

The courage to say so finally fills him, just in time for Buck’s phone to light up, Taylor’s name flashing across the screen on two messages. Buck doesn’t even glance at his phone before flipping it face down and pushing it to the side, but it’s too late — Eddie feels his walls going back up, any bravery leaving to make room for the reminder that Buck is in a good place and Eddie will do anything to keep him there. He’ll take another bullet, he’ll keep every emotion under lock and key, he’ll carve his own damn heart out of his chest if he has to. He cannot — will not — be the reason that smile that’s become so natural on Buck’s face dims by even a watt.

The crease in between Buck’s brow has only gotten deeper the longer Eddie hasn’t answered, so he musters up the most genuine smile he can. “I’m okay, Buck. I promise.” The lie cuts through his throat like broken glass.

Buck squints at him, scooting forward until his knees are digging into Eddie’s thigh. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?”

“Of course,” he says, another lie, more salt in the wounds he’s already given himself. Buck’s quiet for a few long moments, studying Eddie’s face, and Eddie prays that he doesn’t crack, that Buck doesn’t keep pressing. By some miracle, he doesn’t, just rests a hand on Eddie’s knee and squeezes before heading to the pantry for a snack.

The vice is back as soon as he’s out of sight, and Eddie’s list of things he has to learn to live with is starting to feel a little too long.

~~~~~~~~~~

Healing isn’t linear. It’s something he’s heard from every doctor he’s seen, every therapist he’s been assigned to, something he’s experienced first hand, physically and emotionally. So when he wakes up one morning feeling rested, energetic, and normal, he’s wary. He doesn’t want to focus on it, afraid he’ll scare this fragile feeling away, but he also wants to soak in it as much as he can. Wants to remember the easy laughs with the team and the night of board games with Chris and Buck when he’s inevitably surrounded by darkness again tomorrow.

He falls asleep and he doesn’t dream and he wakes up and feels...normal. Again. Same thing the morning after, and the morning after that. For a whole week, he doesn’t wake up with the taste of blood in his mouth or a soreness in his shoulder. He hears birds and sees the sun peaking in and feels something dangerously close to good. The wariness is still there, but every day it gets pushed a little farther back in his mind, making it a little easier to believe that while this feeling might not last, maybe it won’t be as dark when the clouds roll back in.

He’s wrong.

The restlessness comes back with a vengeance — a thrumming in his blood that won’t let him sleep, that amplifies every sound to sharp snaps that remind him too much of the gunfire he’s been trying to forget, putting him constantly on edge again. There’s a heaviness too, making it hard to breathe, hard to move, even though staying in one place for too long feels like putting a target on his back for the monsters that have made a home in his head.

He tries to keep his cool, tries to keep the facade up, but it’s hard to keep your balance on a frayed tightrope.

Bobby notices the shift right away.

It doesn’t help that even the quiet thump of the oven closing makes Eddie flinch where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. He had hoped that watching Bobby make breakfast would calm him, remind him of the countless hours he’s spent in Abuela’s kitchen doing the very same thing, but it doesn’t. He’s still jittery, worse than he can remember being, and everything just feels like too much.

Bobby sets a to-go container down in front of him, and Eddie flinches (and curses himself) again. He looks up, confused, and is met with Bobby’s I’m about to tell you to do something and you are not allowed to say no look. Usually it’s Buck on the receiving end of that one.

He tries for a deflection. “Are we going somewhere, Cap?”

The look stays in place. “We are not. You are. There’s enough in there for you and Chris, take it home and don’t let me see you here for the next 48 hours.”

“There’s still three hours left of shift.”

Bobby pushes the container closer. “Go home, Diaz. Be with your kid. We’ll talk when you get back. And if you won’t talk to me, we’ll find someone you will talk to.”

Normally, he’d fight back. Raise his hackles, insist he doesn’t need any special treatment or intervention. But he feels like his insides have been scooped out and replaced with lead and cement and he’s tired. He barely has enough left in him to keep himself upright.

He slowly picks up the container and gets up to leave. Bobby calls his name as he gets to the top of the stairs.

“We’re here for you,” he says. “You’ve been through too much to be handling this on your own. Just let us know how we can help.”

I would if I could, but I don’t even know where to start.

He just nods, hopes his face looks some degree of reassuring, and heads to the locker room.

~~~~~~~~~~

The way Chris’ face lights up when he sees Eddie waiting for him in the front office is enough to thaw the ice in his chest for a minute. He can hear the exact octave his mother’s voice would reach if she heard about him pulling Chris out of school for “no good reason”, but he also could not give less of a shit.

He feels a little bit more like a person with Chris in the backseat. That’s a good enough reason for him.

They set up camp in the park near their house, Bobby’s food and extra snacks Eddie picked up spread out between them, and Chris fills Eddie in on all the things he missed while he was working. He tries to focus on everything — Chris’ excitement about his upcoming science fair, the Sour Patch Watermelon sugar stuck to the tip of his nose, the way his hands move with his words. Eddie feels better, more settled, just getting to bask in the sun and in Chris like this, but he still feels heavy, like every move he makes has him fighting against gravity, threatening to pull him into the dirt.

There’s a crack from the playground in front of them, and Eddie’s blood turns to ice. He’s halfway to standing before he sees it’s just some kids snapping sticks in half to build some kind of log cabin. He lets out a slow breath as he sits back down and wills his heartbeat back to normal.

Chris is staring at him, eyes intense and brow furrowed, very similar to someone else they know.

Shit.

As soon as he’s settled, Chris moves to sit in the criss-cross of his legs. He’s a little too on the lanky side for this anymore, but Eddie’s absolutely not going to complain. Chris twists until he’s looking Eddie in the eye. Eddie does his best not to look away.

Chris rests a hand on his cheek. “It’s okay if you’re feeling bad,” he says. “You can talk to me about it, if you want.”

The crack comes from Eddie’s own heart this time. His kid has been through so much in 10 short years, and it’s only made him wiser than he should be, compassionate and understanding and open, ready to be there for anyone without a second thought. He’s good in every sense of the word, and Eddie’s in awe of the fact that he, somehow, has something to do with that. And the last thing he wants to do is lie to his son, but he just...can’t. Talk about it. Not now. Not yet. Not in a way that will keep Chris this good.

He has no way of articulating all that, so he just wraps his arms around Chris’ middle and squeezes him close.

“I know, buddy. Thank you. I’ll be okay, and we’ll talk soon.”

It’s not a lie, but it’s not everything.

It seems to be enough for Chris, though. He nods and pats Eddie’s face before reaching into his backpack and pulling out a library book. “Well, I’m gonna read to you until you feel better, just like you do for me.”

It’s the first real smile Eddie’s cracked in months. He kisses the top of Chris’ head, settling his chin there as Chris leans back into his chest.

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

They sit there for a while longer, Chris reads to him about Percy and Annabeth and Grover, and Eddie, inexplicably, feels a little bit lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck’s Jeep is parked outside when they get home, and Chris practically breaks down the door to greet him. It looks like he’s gone all out, too — Chinese food on the table, the promise of cookies and cream ice cream in the fridge, and a list of movies that Chris ecstatically agrees with as Buck lists them off. Chris hurries off to change and clean up for dinner, and Eddie moves to start opening plastic lids and cardboard containers.

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” he says. He leaves out just having you with us is enough.

Buck waves him off. “Anything for you two.”

He could leave it at that, keep up the comfortable silence as they move around the kitchen in tandem, but there’s a nagging memory that he has to ask about or he’ll never stop thinking about it.

“Didn’t you have a date with Taylor tonight?”

Buck tenses ever so slightly, a container of dumplings shifting in his hand. “Cancelled,” he says with a shrug.

Eddie knows there’s more, but Chris comes back before he can ask, and it doesn’t feel like a conversation they can have in front of a 10 year old. So they eat, and fall into the familiar banter between the three of them, and for half an hour, Eddie can be present. He can forget the last six months and the weight still hanging off of him and live in this moment, with the two most important people in his life, and pretend that this is all there is. Just these two and their joy and warmth that wraps around him tight enough to make him feel alive again, if only for a little while.

Two bowls of ice cream and one and a half movies later, Chris is dead to the world. Buck carries him to bed and Eddie tries to ignore the new ache that’s sprung up of the course of the evening, the one that wants and pulls towards Buck like a magnet. The one that almost purrs when Buck settles back on the couch so close they’re touching from ankle to (good) shoulder, contentedness washing over the living room as they find a rerun of The Shawshank Redemption playing on cable. It’s not perfect, there’s still a roiling in his blood that won’t seem to leave him alone, but he feels better than he has in God knows when.

Buck shifts closer to Eddie, eyes glowing in the light of the TV, and Eddie never wants him to leave. “Thanks for coming tonight. I— Chris and I both really needed this, I think.”

“I told you, anything for you two. Always.”

He ignores the way his stomach flips and tries to focus on the movie. He gets about five minutes of peace before another thought comes back, still nagging him, mixing with his anxiety enough to actually force him to say something.

He aims for cool and casual. “So, you and Taylor...everything okay?”

Buck gives him a very long, almost challenging look before turning off the TV. Seems he missed that casual mark. “I should be asking you the same thing.” “Very funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m really worried about you, Eds.”

“This isn’t my first time getting shot, I know how to handle it.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as bitter as it does, but he can’t bring himself to care, either. He doesn’t have the energy to keep a filter up anymore.

“Eddie, I’m serious.”

“I’m fine, Buck,” he says sharply, and he’s surprised his teeth haven’t fallen out of his head yet with how hard he’s lying through them. He hates that he’s lying to Buck at all, but those smiles he’s gotten used to have been fewer and farther between recently, and he knows it’s his fault. He might feel like his own seams are coming apart, but he’ll be damned if he rips Buck open too, even if it means pushing him away from his mess. “You’ve got a life and a girlfriend to worry about, I’ll figure everything out on my own.”

“I don’t.”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. We broke up.”

Eddie pauses, curses the faint hope that sparks in his chest. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been a little distracted by someone else for the past few months. It didn’t feel fair to her to keep it going.”

He gives him another long look, and Eddie might be a little dense when it comes to things like this, but that look breaks through loud and clear. This is it. This is real. This is everything he’s wanted for the past six months — and probably longer than that — but now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel right. Buck was happy, free, finally settled into his own skin, and it’s all gone now because of Eddie and his stupid, broken everything. He knows he won’t be able to give Buck everything he needs, at least right now, but Buck needs to know that too. “Buck—”

“Nope,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “I know you’re gonna try and blame yourself for this somehow, but…don’t. It was bound to happen anyway. Because you’re right, I do have a life, but it’s you two. You and Chris. That’s all I need it to be. That’s all I want it to be. And I hate that it took so long for me to figure out, that it took you getting shot, but we’re here now.” His eyes shutter a bit as he looks down at his hands. “At least, I hope we are.”

And there it is. So simple, so easy, for Buck to admit this huge thing that Eddie thought he was dancing around on his own. The ease reminds Eddie, through his fog of sadness and anger and every other bleak feeling that’s been controlling him, that that’s what makes them work so well together. Honesty. Being able to show all their ugly, mismatched inside parts to each other and still find the beauty, the ways to help, the ways to hold each other together when they need it the most.

And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever needed to be held together more than he does right now.

“Ask me,” he whispers, the sound seeming to echo around the room.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me if I’m okay.”

Buck shuffles on the couch until they’re facing each other, takes both of Eddie’s hands in his.

“Eddie,” he says softly, “are you okay?”

The world blurs as the tears he’s been fighting finally break free, but he feels strong. Brave. Like he can do anything now that Buck’s holding his hand.

“No,” he says, a crack in his voice but the conviction behind it still firm. “No, I’m not okay.”

The floodgates open, and he lets everything wash over him, all the things he’s been holding back, forcing away in the hopes that they’d just disappear one day. He’s floating and sinking and lost in the waves of it all, but strong arms wrap around him and pull him close, and there’s relief. Not a lot, not enough, but it’s there, for the first time since he woke up in the hospital. He feels safe here, with Buck wiping away his tears and pressing kisses along his hairline. He honestly forgot what safety felt like, was sure he’d never feel anything like it again. But he knew it that day he was bleeding out on the street, and he knows it now — it feels like Buck’s sweatshirt and smells like his aftershave and sounds like whispers of it’s okay and I’ve got you.

It all subsides, eventually, but Buck still holds him close, presses their foreheads together so there’s nothing else Eddie can focus on. His eyes are piercing, bright like Eddie only usually sees when Buck has a plan that refuses to be derailed.

“Let me help, Eddie,” he says, punctuated with a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “I know you think you can do this yourself, but you don’t have to. I don’t want you to. Let me help you carry it.”

His voice left with the rush of everything, so all Eddie can do is nod before sinking back into Buck, into relief. Even that simple motion, the silent acknowledgement that he’s not alone anymore, is enough to let small seeds of hope sink into him and take root. They’re still weak, still unfamiliar, but they’re here, waiting to grow.

And Eddie knows, with a certainty that he forgot he was capable of, that Buck will be here to help tend to them, no matter how long it takes for them to blossom.

~~~~~~~~~~

When Eddie wakes up the next morning, he still feels weighed down. There’s still an edge, an unease low in his gut, anxiety still crawling through his veins.

He’s not okay. But he looks over and sees Buck — breathing even, arm thrown over Eddie’s stomach, keeping him close — and the ever-present darkness fades from an angry black to melancholy grey. Not perfect, not even close, but better.

He’s not okay. He hasn’t been for a while. But now, finally, he feels like he will be.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #tim i know you read fanfic you can HAVE this one so we can get a recovery arc #i don't even need credit just DO IT #ficcery

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aster-aspera · 4 years ago

Photo

It’s just my skin

@badthingshappenbingo

Prompt: loss of hearing

Pairings: (platonic) jonmartim

Warnings: claustrophobia, hospitals, hearing loss

Masterlist

If you liked it please reblog <3

The aftermath isn’t as quiet as Tim thought it would be.

Maybe it’s the fact that he isn’t dead even though he should be, maybe it’s the dreadful ringing in his ear, maybe it’s the way his chest is heaving in gasping breaths he can’t hear.

There’s a thousand pounds of stone pressing down on his back and somewhere far above him he can feel the ground rumble and shift. He can’t even find it in himself to worry about the whole place coming down. He wasn't planning on making it out alive either way.

He thinks he floats in and out of consciousness for a bit. Time seems to wind and stretch and loop back, only the rubble on his back and the incessant ringing to keep him company.

Something shifts eventually, a change in the air at first, the darkness becoming just a bit softer, a bit less cloying.

And then there are hands and stretchers and needles and people pulling and prodding him and over it all is still that high pitched ringing, rising higher and higher into an impossible crescendo. He thinks they ask him things, he is sure he sees their lips moving and their expectant gazes. He thinks he tries to say something, but his lips feel awkward and unwieldy.

Everything goes dark after that. A cool blessed darkness where he just floats, no stone, no rubble, no dust, just peace.

He thinks about Danny for a while, and the ritual and the burning collapse of it all and the way Sasha smiled at him every morning when he came into the archives. Then he just sleeps.

He wakes up a bit more coherent the next time. The ringing isn’t gone yet, but at least his brain doesn’t feel like it’s through different planes of dimensions at a hundred kilometres per hour anymore. At least now he can breathe without the dust clogging his lungs.

He looks around the overbright hospital room, the disconnected monitor and the IV dripping a clear fluid into his veins. There’s a bouquet of orange flowers on the bedside table. Probably from Martin, he thinks bitterly. There’s no one else who would go through the trouble.

Martin walks into his room at some point and Tim wonders why he’s here and not hovering around Jon like some lost puppy. Maybe Jon didn’t make it out of the explosion.

Something sharp and painful shoots through Tim’s chest at the thought and he does his best not to examine it too closely.

He looks up at Martin, whose lips are moving as he fusses with the flowers on the little table. Tim stares up at him uncomprehendingly, waiting for sound to come through, waiting for that unbearable ringing to resolve itself into something he can understand.

It doesn’t.

“I can’t hear,” He says, his lips forming the words, his vocal cords vibrating, but no sound comes out, not to him at least. Martin looks up at him with concern, his mouth moving in shapes that should have been familiar, had they been accompanied by the right noises.

“I can’t hear,” Tim says again. And this time, it doesn’t come out half as controlled. He can feel something very close to panic crawling it’s way up his throat and he doesn’t quite manage to swallow it down.

Martin presumably says something else, before giving up and typing something on his phone, shoving it into Tim’s hands before stalking out of the room.

Getting a doctor, stay here

Well of course he’s going to stay here, does Martin really think he’s going to wander around London when he’s just survived an explosion? He isn’t Jon.

He waits impatiently in his bed, rubbing the uncomfortably thin hospital sheets between his fingers and trying to adjust the flat pillows so he can sit up.

Eventually the doctors come in and once again, it’s back to being poked and prodded. Doctors examining his ears and brain and all the million scans they take, with Martin occasionally coming in to hover over him, bringing along coffee from the cafeteria.

In the end, the verdict is predictable. Permanent damage from his proximity to the explosion. Figures he couldn’t just walk out of that unscathed.

And most people would probably consider being permanently deaf better than being dead. Tim wasn’t too sure he agreed with them yet.

They let him go home eventually, with a whole laundry list of instructions on how to care for himself. Tim throws the papers into a corner as soon as he gets home. He’ll be fine, he’s survived Jane Prentiss, he can survive this. And it isn’t like it matters much.

His phone buzzes to life when he sticks it into the socket, all the messages he missed streaming in at once, a tidal wave of promotional mails and push notifications. He’s half tempted to just shut it off again when he notices one text notification between all the others.

Jon

Martin had told him he was alive, of course. But something about seeing his name displayed black on white on his phone screen drives the point home in a way Martin’s scribbled notes hadn’t done. Something sharp and hot shoots through his chest and he wants desperately for it to be that familiar anger that carried him through the last few months.

But as he lets his head fall back onto the couch, he can’t quite feel it burn the same, and without its familiar warmth, he feels hollow in a way he hasn’t since Danny died.

He swipes away the message without reading it and curls up on the couch, pulling an old, dusty blanket over himself and shutting his eyes. He tries not to think too much of the darkness after the explosion, of the plaster dust swirling through the air and settling in his lungs, of the stone crushing his limbs at awkward angles.

A dark apartment isn’t much like a collapsed building but his brain doesn’t care when it brings up vivid images of his time under the rubble. Despite it all, he does eventually drift into the comforting darkness of sleep, his slumber taking the pain and weariness out of his bones for just a moment.

It’s peaceful, till he wakes up gasping from a nightmare.

His desk rattles slightly when a heavy book is dropped on it and Tim looks up in annoyance, ignoring the painful squeezing in his chest when he meets Jon’s tired, regretful eyes.

‘Learning sign’ The book proclaims and Tim feels irritation bubbling up.

“Fuck off,” He says, focusing his attention once again on his desk.

‘I know sign, I can help, or at least recommend you some classes/books’ Jon informs him through the notes app on his phone.

“I don’t need your help.”

‘I know you don’t, but I’d like to'

“Why? So you can feel better about everything that happened? You think this is going to fix it?”

‘I’m sorry Tim’

“Sorry is too late,” he bites out, shoving out of his chair roughly. He tries to move past Jon, make it out of this stifling, dusty room, get somewhere it doesn’t feel like the walls are watching him.

A rough, calloused hand shoots out, wraps around his wrist like a vice. Jon’s eyes are dark with concern and Tim feels an odd anger at the expression. How can he show so much empathy after everything that happened?

He looks at the hand wrapped around his wrist and suddenly, it’s all just too much.

The deafening ringing in his ears, this wretched place that trapped him and choked him and took his best friend from him. And Jon, eyes still hopeful, still compassionate, after Tim had blamed him and hurt him for months on end.

“Go away,” He tries to say and he doesn’t even make it to the first syllable before his voice betrays him with a choked sob. A shudder runs through him and he looks down at the wooden floor, trying to compose himself.

The grief has never felt as all consuming as it does in this moment and it chokes and burns and pulls him under all at once.

And then, there are arms around him. A familiar touch, a familiar weight, from days so long ago Tim can barely remember them. The first touch that isn’t hostile, the first comfort he has felt in so long.

And it’s all from the man he’s tried to hate for months.

His hands curl themselves tightly into Jon’s cardigan and he buries his face in his shoulder, biting back tears with all his might. It doesn’t do much good against the tidal wave of emotions sweeping through him and soon he’s shaking all over with the sobs that wrack through his body.

Jon’s hand comes up in a familiar movement, brushing through Tim’s messed up curls. It’s hesitant at first, as if Tim will yell at him again, but when he makes no motion to do so, only melting deeper into the hold, the fingers carding through his hair become surer.

There’s a rumble against his cheek as Jon says something and Tim wishes desperately he could still hear it, hear Jon’s sure and steadying voice.

He remembers when, near the beginning of it all, he would stand in the corridor outside of Jon’s office and listen as his voice drifted through the halls, all the pain and fear and emotions painted so clearly on it. He’d always thought Jon a bit ridiculous for the way he read those statements. Now he just wished he could hear it one more time.

He closes his eyes as the loss of his family and his friend and even his hearing tear through his chest, leaving him shattered and shaking.

Jon’s chest rumbles again and Tim presses his cheek into it, pretending for just a moment he can hear a sound that isn’t the awful ringing.

Another pair of hands close around him, softer ones, broader ones. They pull him up gently and he’s not entirely sure how they both ended up on the floor, it probably has something to do with how broad he is and how skinny Jon is.

He’s pulled close against a soft, broad chest and relaxes into it almost immediately. Martin’s safe, he always has been.

He’s deposited gently on the cot, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a warm mug of tea pressed into his hands. He feels a bit like a child, being coddled and carted around. But right now, he can’t find it in himself to care.

He thinks Jon and Martin are saying stuff. Martin’s chest is rumbling against his back and he tilts his face so he can feel it better. Martin runs a comforting hand along his face, brushing away the tears that stick to it.

A hand settles on his knee, comforting and grounding and he’s sure it’s Jon’s. Both of Martin’s hands are occupied holding him together after all.

He closes his eyes. He can deal with the mess of it all tomorrow.

Right now, he just feels safe. His friends are here and that’s enough.

#tma #the magnus archives #magnuspod #tim stoker #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jontim #jonmartim #martim #jonmartin #i do not know how to tag for this fandom yet #anyway tell me if i missed any warnings #bad things happen bingo #my writing

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Poison: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

"What is food to one is to others bitter poison." - Lucretius

Cases involving children are never your strong suit. The last one with Billie Copeland was just so hard, you’re not sure if you can be involved in another one--that is until you learned what this case is really all about. Yes, there is a child involved, but the bigger picture has a much larger scale than children.

You have to remind yourself that you need to focus on the case and not on Spencer. It shouldn’t even be a hard thing to do, but something happened between you two when you took him to the bookstore right next to your apartment. After checking out a couple of books, and after Spencer had read virtually all of them, you decided it was kind of late and that you needed to get home. The store was closing very soon anyway, so Spencer opted to walk you home.

When you got to your door, he decided to give you a kiss on your cheek, but you moved your head at the last minute. He accidentally got the corner of your mouth, and that messed up his whole thing. Based on his reaction to your mouths almost touching, you know he can’t be that interested in you. If he were, then he would have just kissed you right there and then. Instead, he stuttered a goodbye and left.

You haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since. Does he like you? If so, then why won’t he just kiss you? If he doesn’t, then why does he agree to go on these dates with you. Whenever you two go out, you clearly state that this is a date, and he doesn’t say anything that dismisses that idea. Sometimes, you just wish you knew what was going on inside that big brain of his so you can dejumble it and tell him what the fuck is going on. You’d do it now, but you have a case that needs your full attention.

Apparently, a man and his son were driving down the road one night when the father pulled to the side of the road and got out. He walked into the woods, the son followed after him, and the father beat him almost to death. The son is in the hospital undergoing critical care while the father is in the psych ward. You’re not sure how it happened or why, but you know that it did. Hotch and Gideon got hold of the interrogation video sent over by the New Jersey Police Department.

Detective Hanover is the person who is going to be in charge and is also the person who you will be working with the entire time you’re in Jersey.

“State trooper took this before the paramedics showed up,” the detective says and shows Jack Fisher, the father of Eric Fisher, a picture of his unconscious body. “He's unconscious and has four broken bones. He's gonna be in the hospital for a month.”

“I didn't hurt my son,” Jack sighs.

“Do you remember removing the tire iron from the trunk?”

What, he used a tire iron? You gasp softly and put your hand to your mouth as you continue to watch.

“No! No!”

“What's the last thing you remember?”

“I picked Eric up from school on Friday, for the weekend. Who would do this?” he cries softly.

Hotch ends the video there and addresses the entire briefing room.

“This happened two days ago in Beechwood, New Jersey. Mr. Fisher had ingested LSD one afternoon and didn't come down until eighteen hours later.”

“The hospital reported six other patients who ingested LSD in the last twenty-four hours. The hospital called the CDC, then the CDC called us,” JJ finishes.

“So, a bunch of people got spiked. What makes it a BAU case?” Derek wonders.

“They each received ten to twenty times the normal dose.”

“That’s enough to kill a small child,” Spencer informs.

“Or cause a grown man to try and kill him with a tire iron apparently,” you sigh.

“Of the seven victims, there was one death and one coma. This is from the hospital's security footage the same night Fisher lost it,” JJ explains and uses the remote to put a different video on the screen.

It’s of the hospital that is in complete chaos. People are shouting, pushing, yelling, and apparently, having seizures. One man is on a stretcher, and he’s clearly on something. The doctors around him try to push past the madness of people to get him to a room while the nurses have their hands full of scared and angry patients. This wasn’t a spike or an overdose…

“These people didn’t get spiked. They were poisoned,” you reveal.

“Of the seven victims, Gail Norman was the only death. She was seventy-eight. She ran out into the middle of the road, and she was hit by a car. She was DOA,” JJ reveals on the plane ride over to New Jersey.

You’re sitting next to Spencer in one of the seats that are super cramped so that they can fit four of them in on either side of a small table. You’re sitting by the window, so essentially, Spencer is blocking you in. He’s not a big person, but because you have romantic feelings for him, it feels like a fucking trap.

“The other potentially fatal case is nine-year-old Brittany Canon. She fell out of a treehouse and fractured her skull. She's in a coma, but the doctors don't know if she's going to come out of it,” Hotch says.

“How do you wanna handle the press?” Gideon asks the liaison.

“We still don't know how these people even got dosed. I think it would be irresponsible to issue a warning without specifics. It'll just cause panic. I did notify the local PD, though, to be discreet.”

“How is it possible that none of these people knew how they got poisoned?” Derek wonders.

“None of them remembers anything about the day it happened,” you say and gesture, but your hand brushes up against Spencer’s leg.

You blush and mutter an apology, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He looks at you and blushes as well, but he is better at hiding it than you are.

“These people were so messed up; it's made it difficult for local PD to retrace the victim's steps.”

“So, we need to go on precedent. We know there are four types of poisoners who target multiple victims,” Gideon starts.

“There's the true believer--the political terrorist/religious cult. There's the extortionist--the product tamperer that holds the business hostage in exchange for money. The prankster--it’s usually a younger offender who doesn't mean any harm, and it's basically just a big practical joke to them. Then we have the avenger--someone with a personal vendetta who chooses poison as their weapon,” you explain the different types of offenders.

“We need to find out as quickly as possible which type he is. Because with the exception of the prankster, all these types commonly test their poison on a small scale before appearing at a larger attack.”

“Then, let's hope this one was just a prank,” Derek scoffs.

"I suggest we split up the victims and see if there's a pattern to the victimology,” Gideon suggests.

“Most of them are still in the hospital. I'll call local PD to meet us there,” Hotch confirms.

“I'll check the lab reports. Maybe there's a clue to the unsub's motive in the specific nature of the poison he used,” Spencer calls dibs.

“I can't imagine anybody could want this to happen.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll head to the hospital with you. The kid may not be able to tell the doctor anything, but I certainly can. I’ll be able to see what really happened if his mother allows it.”

“Good,” Gideon nods once. “We need all the answers we can get.”

The hospital is buzzing with panic, fear, sadness, and grief. Many people are dying in this hospital, and to someone like you, you’re not sure you can be here for much longer. Hotch, Gideon, and the rest of the team don’t really understand how this all affects you. Normal people like the ones on your team see this hospital for what it is. They see people grieving and people crying, but they allow themselves to be separated from their emotions. They can walk into a loud crowd and tune out all the conversations and emotions without even thinking about it.

Not you. You’re completely different.

You walk into a crowd, and you’re overwhelmed by not only the physical sensation of people all around you, but your mind is also crowded. Your mind goes into overdrive as it inspects each person to make sure they are not a threat. To make sure that they are who they say they are. A normal person can see a kid walking down the street and not know they are kidnapped while you are able to determine that.

You walk into this hospital, and every single emotion of every single nurse, doctor, patient, and family member immediately go to your shoulders. Someone can be dying on the very top floor, and you’d feel how sad their family members are as they watch their beloved ones slip away. There could be someone in the next room receiving bad news, and it’ll be like you’re receiving the same news. It’s not fun living with your abilities, and you’ve caught yourself wishing it would all just end. However, you think about everyone you’ve saved, and it somehow all makes it okay.

“Detective Hanover, Beechwood PD,” the detective that was on the surveillance tape introduces himself to you, Gideon, and Hotch.

“Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Gideon and Agent Y/L/N.”

“Thanks for coming down on such short notice. The doctor said he may have permanent brain damage. I've never seen anything like this,” he sighs and looks at Eric, the little boy who was beaten by his own father.

“Well, let's hope we can help him.”

“Have you had a chance to review the victim's files?”

“We're especially interested in talking to the boy's father,” Gideon says.

“We'd like to get a sense of why he turned violent while the lab analyzes the specific nature of the LSD he was dosed with. we'd like to get our own sense: was it the drug itself or was there something else going on? Hopefully, that can give us a little bit of a window into the motive of the offender,” Hotch explains.

“He's in the psych ward.”

“Well, we'll keep it short,” Gideon replies.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll meet up with you two. I’m going to talk to the mother,” you offer, and Hotch just nods.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why!

@averyhotchner @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @fan-girl-97 @paulaern @inkstainedwritergirl @estrela-rogers @abitchforjay @kwbaby24 @redsalv20 @joonie-centric @spencerreid-mgg @sixpencespencee @boygenius-reid @reidemandweep @prophecyflame @happynekochan1

#poison #series rewrite #criminal minds series rewrite #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fanfiction #season 1 episode 13 #s1e13

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poc-movie-supremacy · 4 years ago

Text

I’m coming home to you

Christopher wanted to see his Buck today and who was Eddie to refuse? They picked up Buck for a nice day at the pier. When things go from great to catastrophic, will Eddie reunite with Buck and Christopher. Based off this tumblr post by @sexyapplemilk

This story is for @sexyapplemilk/ @fandom-101 @its-like-looking-in-3d

Thank you to @not-falling-but-flying for reading over this long long fic!

I hope you guys like it!

----

Eddie and Buck had the same day off. Well Eddie had the day off and Buck didn’t have work but potato potatoe. It was Saturday so Chris didn’t have school today either.

Eddie was sitting across from Chris at the breakfast table munching their way through breakfast. It had been a quiet morning so far, Chris was lost in his own thoughts. Eddie wondered if his kid was planning anything, but decided not to put much thought into it.

“Daddy can we see Bucky today?” The question made Eddie cock his eyebrow. He knew that Buck had been wallowing in his bed for the past few days after he got the news he couldn’t go back to work just yet. Part of him didn’t want to disturb the younger man, but the other part of him figured this could be good for Buck. Also he can’t say no to his kid.

“Let me ask him if he’s free.” Eddie will probably come over anyways, Buck can’t get mad at him, he had Chris. “Finish your breakfast first though mijo.” Chris shouts in joy and resumes eating his breakfast, bagel with fruits cause eddie can’t mess that up, with renewed rigour. Eddie smiles fondly at his kid while he takes a bit of fruit.

Eddie made Chris finish getting ready for the day. They had to do Chris’s PT, get changed, fix their hair. Eddie combed his hair back, put on a nice white shirt and a plaid button up, jeans, and some sneakers. Chris put on a yellow stripped shirt and blue pants. He waited impatiently for his dad by the door. Eddie chuckled, unlocked the door then walked with his kid to the car. “What do you want to do for today Chris?”

“We can color or Bucky says he got a new video game!”

“You don’t want to go outside?”

Chris looks at his dad curiously. Eddie helps him into the car then doubling back to get into the drivers seat. He starts the car and starts to drive. “What could we do outside?”

“You could go to the park, play on the play structure?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Bucky can’t fit on it though, I know, we’ve tried.” Eddie laughs out loud at that. The idea of Buck trying to fit into a play structure is way too amusing.

“Well okay then, no park, we could… go to the laser tag?”

“I promised I’d go with Denny next week though.”

“Hmmm yea we gotta keep our promises don’t we?”

“That’s what you always say.”

“Well maybe Buck will have better ideas huh?”

“Bucky has the best ideas!”

---

They get up to Buck’s apartment and Eddie doesn’t knock, instead he just lets himself in. The apartment is eerily quiet and Eddie wonders if Buck wasn’t home. “Buck, Hey Buck me and Chris are here to hang out.” He looks around the apartment for any signs of his best friend.

“Daddy look.” Chris points up to the loft to the mass on the bed.

Eddie smiles proudly at his kid. “Good job mijo. Go sit in the living room while I go rouse Buck.”

“Can I watch tv?”

“Sure kid.”

Eddie sets Chris up in the living room before heading up to Buck. The bedroom is a bit messy, loose clothes strung everywhere. The blinds are closed and all the lights are off. Any evidence Buck is here is the gigantic mass on the bed. Eddie frowns in worry, before getting to work. He opens up all the blinds and repeatedly pulled the covers off of Buck to force him to get up.

“Dude I have nothing to do today.”

“Nope, you're taking me and Chris, more importantly Chris, somewhere today. Heads up, he’s vetoed the park and laser tag and he’s downstairs. Get changed and start thinking of places to go. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Buck looks at him incredulously. “Eddie, you can’t cook.”

“Yea it’ll probably be toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but food is food and you need to eat.”

Eddie watches Buck calmly. Anger, confusion, acceptance and happiness flit across his face. He gives Eddie a smile before turning around. “Okay Eddie. Anything for my favorite Diaz.”

Eddie knows he means Chris, he still leaves the loft with a small smile.

---

The Diaz’s make Buck a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some strawberries Eddie found in Buck’s fridge. Buck’s in a white shirt and a plain pink button up. His hair is slightly gelled up and any trace of sadness was gone from his eyes. Happily he let Chris pull him to the kitchen table. “Wow this all looks so good buddy, did you make it?”

Chris beamed. “No Dad helped a bit.”

“You coulda convinced me otherwise.”

Chris giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes, “I cut up the strawberries.” Buck made a small noise of understanding before starting to eat. Chris quietly colored beside him. Occasionally he stole Buck’s strawberries. If Buck cared he didn’t comment on it.

“So have you picked where we’re going Buck?” Eddie asked.

“Yes actually, May’s been talking about visiting the Pier with her friends and I figured if it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for us right? You wanna go to the pier buddy?”

“What’s on the pier?”

Buck’s face lit up in a blinding smile. Quickly he starts listing off all the unhealthy snacks sold at the pier. Eddie shakes his head and mock glares at Buck, but he only gets a cheeky grin in response.

“You’re going to give him such a sugar high. Ugh, if you want to do this you have to put him to bed tonight.”

“You’re going to stay with us for the whole day?!” Chris smile could put the sun to shame. He looked eagerly between his father and his Buck.

“Sure Buddy if that’s what you want.” Chris nodded his head so fast he looked like a bobble head.

Buck chuckled, “Okay buddy, I’ll hop you up on sugar then have the pleasure of tucking you in.” Buck sent Eddie a teasing smile, only to receive an eye roll in response.

Once Buck finishes his food, the boys head for Buck’s jeep. They could’ve ridden in Eddie’s truck, but Buck likes driving more than Eddie. Chris’s car seat is transferred to the back of Buck’s jeep and they all pile in. Some top 40s song blares from the radio as they head to their destination.

The wind feels nice in Eddie’s hair. He stares out the window as he listens to Chris and Buck have an animated conversation. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention to it, but it still sounds nice, his son and best friend being happy.

“Will you ride with us Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“The bumper cars? Do you want to ride on the bumper cars with us?”

“Oh why not. You sure though, I’ll kick your butt.”

Buck squacks offendedly. “As if, I’m a pro at bumper cars Diaz. In fact I should be asking if you’re okay going against me.” Buck flashes him a cocky smile and Eddie gives him a deadpan stare. He’s impossible yet so endearing. Eddie can’t bring himself to hate it, any of it for a second.

----

Going to the pier, Eddie will admit, was a very good choice. The smell of fried food and the noise of the amusement park rides was relaxing. It felt like being back at the state fairs in Texas. Buck and Chris dragged him along to every ride and Eddie went willingly. He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun.

Eventually they tired down. Eddie was sitting on a bench next to Buck with a frankly gigantic brown bear on his lap. Chris is watching the surfers surf the waves down below with Buck holding onto his shirt. Eddie let himself relax after spending a whole day running after a child and a golden retriever. When Chris comforted Buck, Eddie snuck a photo of the moment. Buck was smiling sadly up at Chris while Chris held Buck’s chin in his hand. It was so sweet Eddie could’ve gotten a toothache.

He went about saving the photo when Chris started talking again. “Where did all the water go?”

---

So there was a Tsunami in California, and Eddie was in the middle of it. He really can’t have nice things. Immediately Buck grabbed Chris and together they started running off the pier. Man can’t outrun nature though and they were barely halfway across the pier when they got swept away.

---

Buck tightened his hold on Chris as he felt the water slap them around. As much as he wanted to keep Chris with him, he wasn’t stronger than the water. Eventually Buck felt Chris get torn away from him. Debris the tsunami picked up hurtled toward him. He could feel little nicks appear on his arms and legs.

When he finally broke through the surface, he spotted Chris clinging to a pole twenty feet in front of him. Carefully he angled his body so the water would take him to Chris. When he got close enough he leaped and wrapped his arms around Chris. With the same intensity, Chris clung to Buck tightly. It was nice to have proof that Chris was safe. After hearing the little guy cry out for him and Eddie, he wasn’t letting Chris go anytime soon.

For a while the duo was at the mercy of the water, but when Buck spotted a half submerged fire truck, he used his reserved energy to swim towards it. Once there, he lifted Chris onto it and then lifted himself onto it. The whole act hurt his leg, but Buck didn’t voice his pain. Quietly he breathed a sigh of relief. The open air stung his fresh cuts and his soaked clothes clung to him uncomfortably. Chris climbed into his lap and rested his head on Buck’s chest.

“Bucky, where’s my dad?”

Buck sighed, not wanted or knowing how to answer this question. “It appears that we got separated when the wave hit, but that can’t be permanent right buddy? When the water recedes we’ll go search for him okay?” Silently Chris nodded. Buck carded his hand through his curls and let his head gently hit against the truck. He breathed deeply once before getting into action.

“Hey superman, can I give you a quick check-up? I wanna make sure you aren’t too injured.” Chris nodded and Buck went about a modified version of the paramedic check up. (He’s been around Hen and Chimney to know it by heart. He also is a certified EMT.)

“You’re all healthy, kid, just a few cuts but that’s okay. Pretty amazing, I need to know your secrets.” Buck poked Chris’s cheek to make him giggle. He succeeded.

“I had you. You saved me.”

---

Somewhere along the way Eddie got separated. In the water he tried to reach for Chris or Buck, but his hand kept getting smacked by debriefs. He did it enough times that he was sure his wrist was sprained.

When he finally broke free from the waves he couldn’t tell where he was. There were string lights hanging above him and a row of nondescript red buildings. Eddie let himself be dragged along with the waves while he thought of something to do. Buck and Chris weren’t beside him, making him officially alone. He hoped they were still together, the thought of all three of them trying to survive this on their own was enough to puke.

He clutched onto his St. Christopher’s medal as he searched for someplace to grab onto. There were inflatable toys, scraps of metal, and spare tires; but nothing safe to actually hold onto. Eddie tries to groan in frustration, but he ends up swallowing a mouthful of water instead.

After another half-hour he finally sees an awning of a restaurant. He makes his way over and lies down on the awning. He breathes in deeply and lets out a slow breath. He’s safe. He’s safe and alive and all alone. Dread tries to settle in his stomach at the thought of his son. He knows he can’t think like this, but god it’s so easy too. He can only hope that Buck is with Chris, Buck will keep Chris safe.

---

When the water finally recedes, Buck climbs down the truck. The nice lady, Mrs. Violet, hands Buck Chris before climbing down herself. “Stay safe you two. Good bye.” Chris waves goodbye and Buck gives her a megawatt smile. She’s nice company while they were stuck on the truck. Buck hopes they find their husband. He waits to make sure everyone else gets down safely too.

The winds from earlier have died down. The warmth from the midday sun beaming down on him feels nice. His clothes have dried into uncomfortable messes, but it’s fine. He gave his pink button to use a tourniquet for a man with a bloody arm.

Chris tightens his hold on Buck, shifts around to get comfortable, then goes lax in his arms. “You don’t want to be let down buddy?” Chris shakes his head. Buck hmmed in acquiescence .

As an eight year old, Chris is hesitant to let people hold him. He says he’s too old for it now. The first time it happened Eddie called Buck to drink with him. Buck agreed and listened as Eddie complained at how big his kid was getting. The fact that Chris was willing to be held right now meant that he was more scared than he appeared. It made Buck worry and want Eddie. He shouldn’t be here, Eddie needs to be here to console his kid.

Buck hiked up Chris further up his hip then started walking. He didn’t know which way he should go, just hoped wherever he went would lead him to Eddie.

---

Eddie fell asleep. He fell asleep on top of the awning waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t a great sleep, he kept seeing Christopher get torn away from him. Eddie shocked himself awake and took stock of his surroundings. The water was gone, leaving in its wake the debris it swept away. Also dead bodies. If Eddie had anything to puke up he’d be hurling.

Okay, okay, you can’t stay here. You gotta go find your kid. How… Eddie thought. Call someone? Call Buck! Or Bobby or Carla! Hope invigorated him to pull his phone out despite the fact that his wrist was definitely broken. Hope left him when he saw his completely waterlogged phone. Okay Plan A was bust on to Plan B… whatever that was.

The awning was connected to a pole that he could climb down. Best way to find his kid and his best friend was to look for them. Slowly he made his way to an edge of an awning. Then he edged himself off the edge slowly and feet first. Eddie wrapped his feet around the pole and shimmied down.

There were a few stranglers around him, similarly confused and lost. He tried asking them if they’d seen his lost kid or best friend. Unhelpfully they shook their heads no. Eddie sighed and continued walking.

----

Buck’s arms were on fire. His leg was also on fire. He’s pretty sure he was also bleeding something… not good. Holding Chris and walking around for hours in the hot sun hadn’t been kind to him. Buck was still searching for Eddie or a hospital. Finding Eddie was better than finding a hospital, but at this point he’d take either.

Technically he had found two hospitals already, but they were filled to the brink. The wait was astronomical and there was no place to sit. And there was no Eddie. He let a nurse check Chris out and give them some supplies, water and granola bars, before heading out. In hindsight he should’ve also asked for a phone to call someone but he forgot.

Chris had long since passed out in his arms. The kid's soft breaths on his necks was very reassuring. It was part of the reason Buck didn’t want to let him down. Another reason was because he wanted to physically pass Chris off to Eddie. Who is fine. He’s healthy and fit and able to carry his kid when Buck finds him. ‘Cause he will find him, Buck can’t not find him.

Chris shifting in his arm brought Buck back to the present. “Bucky? Bucky, I'm tired.”

“I know superman, you’re okay. I heard there's a new hospital a few blocks from here. They’ll be able to help us.”

“Okay Bucky. Can I have ice cream when we get there?”

“We deserve it don’t we? Still need to ask your dad though buddy.”

“Why? He’s not the boss of you?”

“This is a trick.”

---

After searching for Buck and Chris for five hours (and getting nowhere his evil mind adds) he’s starting to lose hope he can find them on his own. No one has seen a tall man in a pink button up nor a little boy in a yellow striped shirt. Eddie’s poor heart doesn’t know whether or not to implode at that. By now the sun has started setting. The winds aren’t as refreshing as they once were.

As he made his way down another debris filled street, two first responders found him. Eddie resists their attempts at checking him over for any injuries at first. He needs to find his partner and his kid, but he’s also tired. The first responders seem to pick up on this. They promise him that they’ll help him find his kid and partner if he just cooperates. This is how they cajoole him into going to a hospital. With promises of phone calls to his kid and a message passed around to the other first responders that Firefighter Eddie Diaz of the 118 is looking for his partner Evan Buckley and his son Chris Diaz.

This satisfies Eddie a great deal and he then becomes a much better patient. (He’s still grumpy and aloof, but now he’s tolerant). He’s almost fine, acquired a cut on his right arm, broke his left wrist, is dehydrated and exhausted. One of the first responders tosses him a bottle of water on the way to their destination. Eddie finds out when they arrive that it’s a VA hospital set up specifically as a halfway point for the sick and wounded.

The first responders usher him in through the door and into the hands of a nurse. They describe his injuries, and tell her about his missing family. He’d correct them but the statement doesn’t feel wrong anyways. The nurse takes him to a free cot before giving him a check up too.

The first responders hit the nail on the head with his list of injuries. Since it’s not severe he doesn’t need to be transported to the hospital right away, although it is recommended. She leaves to go get him pain meds and once again, Eddie is alone. The people in the cots beside him don’t count. Hell one’s unconscious and the other one is having an intimate looking conversion with a loved one. There are tears, Eddie looks away.

To keep himself busy Eddie makes a to do list of what he needs to do next. Find Christopher. Give him a big hug. Give Buck a big hug. Sleep. Tell people he’s okay. Buy a new phone. Buy ice cream. The last one isn’t technically an emergency but forgive him he’s in pain.

The nurse comes back with a wrap for his wrist and disinfectant and band aids. He finishes his water while she works. The nurse tells him he’s lucky his wound isn’t infected. Eddie nods, mind focused on something else.

“This is awkward, but my phone got damaged in the tsunami and I need to tell some people I’m okay. Is it alright if I borrow your phone and make some calls?”

The nurse smiles and nodds. She gets out her iphone, unlocks it and gets out the phone app. Eddie takes it gingerly and thinks of who to call first. His parents? Ha. He could call his sisters, but if they don’t know then he didn’t want to worry them. He’d call Tia Pepa but she’s probably with Abuela already so calling Abuela’s home phone is the best bet.

She’s calm if not incredibly saddened when she picks up the phone. Abuela lets out a fast stream of spanish that’s said through tears once she realizes its him. He waits patiently for her to finish talking before reassuring her she’s fine. Eddie wants to tell her about Christopher, but he’s worried about Abuela having a heart attack so instead he promises to bring Chris over for lunch tomorrow. He then talks to Tia Pepa for a bit, but there’s not much new to say because Abuela had the phone call on speaker. She thanks god that he’s okay and that he better see her as soon as possible.

When they hang up he immediately calls Bobby. As he waits for him to pick up the phone he gives the nurse a sheepish smile and promises that this is the last call.

“Hello Bobby Nash, who is this?”

“Bobby? It’s Eddie, listen, my phone got damaged in the tsunami. Buck, Chris and I were at the pier and I can’t find them anymore Bobby.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Eddie, you need to breathe. Okay breathe.” Eddie rubs his hand over his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“Okay Where are you right now.”

“The new VA hospital they set up.”

“Okay I know where that is. I’m going to send out a message to keep an eye out for Buck and Christopher. I’ll also ask Maddie to start calling the hospitals to see if they have Buck. We’re going to find them okay Eddie. Buck’s a fighter, we’re going to find him and Chris.”

“I know Cap it’s just-.”

“Hey Hey, this isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for this. Stay there at the hospital so we know where to send Buck and Chris when we find them.”

“Yeah okay, okay, okay.”

“Okay, are you okay?”

“Umm yeah I’m fine, shallow cut and sprained wrist. I’m fine Cap, it's Buck and Chris.”

“I know that, but I worry about you too. I gotta go, they need me, but take care of yourself okay? Stay safe?”

“Yes sir.” Bobby hung up and Eddie gave the nurse back her phone.

The nurse left almost immediately to tend to other patients. Eddie took a deep breath before taking the next step. He knew someone had to have a list of patients at this hospital somewhere, he just had to figure out who. Eddie got up from his cot to start looking around.

The first few people were a bust. Lady #1 was actually a nurse who just finished tending to a patient. Man #2 was actually an off duty first responder helping out. Lady and Man #3 and #4 were family of some of the victims of the tsumai. Eddie was starting to get frustrated. He needed to find his son and partner quickly. The longer they were out there the more Eddie’s insides turned into knots.

He walked forward towards the entrance and saw a woman with a clipboard. “Hello ma’am is that a list of patients for the VA hospital?”

The woman turned toward him and smiled politely. “Yes it is. Who are you looking for?”

“My son Christopher Diaz. He’s 8 years old and about 4 feet 5 inches tall. He was wearing a yellow striped shirt and khakis. I’m also looking for my partner Evan Buckley. Late twenties 6’2’’ wearing a pink button up, white shirt and some jeans. He has an identifiable birth mark on his right eyebrow that could be mistaken for a burn scar.”

The lady pursed her lips as she scanned through the papers. Eddie tried not to loom or tap his foot as he waited. When her face fell and she frowned he tried not to cry or get violent. “No, I’m sorry sir, I don’t have anyone like that listed here. They could be at another hospital, or,” the lady pointed to a nearby tent, “they could be there.”

Eddie followed his gaze to the place she was pointing at. “The, the-” black trash bags were piled in front of a stark white tent. That could mean it was only one type of place.

“I’m so sorry sir, if your family is actually there.” Eddie barely nodded at her, listlessly making his way over to the tent. Part of him wanted to believe that Buck and Christopher was at another hospital, but if they were, wouldn’t they have been found by someone. Wouldn’t Eddie have tangible proof that they were alive? Tears started streaming down Eddie’s face. His knees started to wobble as he started scanning through the list of the deceased kept just outside the doors of the tent.

---

“Eddie! Has anyone seen an Eddie Diaz?!” A loud voice echoed in the background. Eddie frowned. It sounded a lot like Buck, but he- the lady said he was-

“My name is Evan Buckley, have you seen Edmundo Diaz?” The voice was slightly softer this time. Eddie turned around and almost fell to his knees. There, bathed in the LED lights was his best friend clutching his child in his arms. Eddie sobbed and started running to them.

“Buck! Buck!”

“Eddie?” Buck wanted to run to Eddie, but walking was hard enough. He stayed where he was and let Eddie run into him. It didn’t take long. Buck quickly felt Eddie wrap his arms around both him and Christopher.

It was then in his best friend's arms that Buck finally let the weight of the day catch up to him. His knees buckled and he went boneless in Eddie’s arms. Said man took it like a champ, first he made sure he had a secure hold on Chris, then he let himself sink to the ground with Buck. The younger man rested his back on Eddie’s chest and relaxed. The uncomfortable, burning pressure on his legs and arms was finally eased. Buck made a happy little sigh and burrowed further into Eddie, just as Chris was doing in his sleep. Maybe he should’ve been embarrassed by it but he just spent over five hours slowly losing hope that he would ever find Eddie alive. It would take the fear of God to separate them.

Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The arm that wasn’t around Christopher tightened around Buck’s waist. The younger man could hear his partner murmur prayers in what he thought was spanish. Tears, of what Buck hoped was relief fell from Eddie’s face onto Buck’s shoulder.

“Oh god, oh my god, I thought- I-” Eddie rambled, finding his voice again.

“Hey, hey hey, I’m fine. Me and Chris are all right.”

Eddie made a disbelieving noise. “Okay my leg hurts like a bitch and I probably have one too many cuts, but it’s nothing life threatening.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Not after the day I’ve had.”

“In a minute we should get you checked out.”

“Aww you can’t do it for me?” Buck shifted his head slightly to bat his eyes at Eddie.

“No, an unbiased professional should handle you,” Eddie whispered hoping the night sky would hide his blush. Buck nodded and listened to Eddie breathing.

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Buck whispered, like a mantra. He brought Eddie’s hand up to rest above his heart so Eddie could feel his heart beat. “We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Even though Buck actually did need medical help, the trio stayed like that a little while longer, basking in the fact that all three of them were lucky enough to make it out alive and to return to each other.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #911 #911 fox #we're all fic writers here #ella's 911 fox fics

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porkchop-ao3 · 4 years ago

Text

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 66)

Where Next?

Thanks for your patience guys ❤ This one is pretty short, I'm sorry about that, but there is action coming, promise. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter with cute little Jack 😊

Tagging @emily-strange and @actuallyhansolo ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

I didn't see much of Arthur for a couple of days. Things were strange at the camp, there was no sense of permanence at all, there was plenty of talk about what next, where next? Some people had their answers, but mostly the camp was quiet with everyone in their own bubble of quiet contemplation. Everything had fallen apart in a matter of days and suddenly everyone had to figure out what to do next.

I just waited patiently, doing what I could for the group. I hunted and provided some meat for everyone to fill their bellies with, it helped us to keep warm. It wasn't the toastiest of locations, so far north, but it would do until we had our plan.

Arthur had spent the past two days with Charles. They had broken Eagle Flies out of prison after nightfall and they were up first thing the following day to be with Rains Fall. He was meeting with the army; things were not good and he was hoping to salvage some sort of deal or relationship of trust. That's where they were as I was sitting by the fire, wrapped up in a blanket and keeping an eye on Jack for John and Abigail, who were nearby discussing their plan. All I knew of it was they were wanting to get as far away from this place as possible. I wondered if we would ever see them again, or if they would keep on going further and further until the only evidence we'd ever have of their existence was a letter in the post once or twice a year. It made me sad to think about it, but I couldn't for one second protest it. We couldn't have much of a happily ever after, not after the things we'd done. We just had to make the best of things.

"What're you doing, Jack?" I called out when I saw him wandering a little too close for comfort to one of the geysers.

"Just looking," he shouted back to me, though he stopped and turned around to smile at me. He was still smiling. It astounded me, honestly, he'd taken everything so well.

He did ask about Dutch once or twice, wondering when we were going back to him. Abigail was usually the one to tell him the truth, but softly, carefully, while John and the rest of us sat tongue tied, unable to think of the right words to satisfy a four year old in such a situation. Jack usually responded with silence, and I couldn't tell if his silence was a signal of sadness or indifference.

I watched the boy as he picked up a pebble from the ground and then eyed up the geyser. I knew what his question was going to be before he opened his mouth.

"What would happen if I threw this inside?" He called. I exhaled a chuckle and went to answer, though the words got stuck. I didn't actually know.

"Uhh," I vocalised cluelessly, "I s'pose it'd shoot back out again."

"Can I try it?"

"Best not," I chuckled, "the speed that thing would come out– I don't know. I wouldn't if I were you, sweetie. What if it falls down and bops you on the noggin?"

"I'd be okay," he assured me, and I cocked my brow a little.

"Your momma might not be, I'm supposed to be looking after you. I imagine she'd toss me in there if you got hurt on my watch. C'mere."

He kept hold of the pebble but did as he was asked, and came trotting over to me with a pair of rosy cheeks.

"Sit by the fire, okay? It's freezing out here, ain't you cold?"

"No," he told me, his tone was high and it was very obviously untrue.

"Your nose'll drop off if you ain't careful," I warned, a little smirk on my face. He touched his pink nose and considered it for a moment.

"It didn't fall off when we were in the snow."

"The snow?"

"With Uncle Dutch and Hosea, and everyone else. Before you were here," he said, gazing down at the rock in his hand, scratching at a piece of mud caked onto it until it gathered under his fingernail. He wiped it on his trousers.

"Ohh," I nodded, I'd heard about it before, their short stop at Colter after the Blackwater fiasco. "Wow, seems like a long time ago, I bet. You've been to so many places since then, ain't you?"

He hummed his agreement and nodded, not looking up at me.

"You like going to different places?"

"I guess so," he shrugged, "but sometimes I get bored."

I chuckled, "yeah, I think we all do," I smiled at him and stroked his hair for a moment. It was feathery soft and light, and I sighed at his innocence. Such a sweet boy. I had no doubt that Abigail and John loved him and were the best parents they could possibly be to him, but I wished he'd had more normal beginnings in life. And I hoped he'd forget some of the awful things he must've seen and heard.

"How're you feeling, about going away with your ma and pa?" I asked him.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" I repeated, leaning my head on my fist as I leaned forward and down to his level.

"We're going away. Uncle Arthur, and you, and Sadie won't be there? And all the others?"

"No, sweetheart, we won't. But I'm sure it won't be the last you'll see of all of us, hm? Right now, your mama and papa only wanna take you someplace safer, you understand that, don't you?" I asked softly and he sighed, his little shoulders jerking with it.

"I guess so," his voice was small and I gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

"Keep your chin up, little prince. Your parents love you to the moon and back, a million times over. You're gonna be okay," I smiled at him, even though he was staring at the rock. I considered it for a moment. "Can I see that?"

He looked up at me in question, and noticed that I was looking at the rock. He paused for a second before handing it over. I inspected it for a moment, it looked much smaller in my hand than it did in his but it still filled up most of my palm. I clutched it tight in my hand, then looked at Jack as I kissed my knuckles. I closed my eyes for a few moments, and I heard him giggle.

"What're you doing?" He questioned and I scrunched my face up, shushing him softly.

"I'm concentrating," I murmured, and continued the performance for a few more moments, his giggles continuing until I slowly cracked one eye open, and then the other.

"What did you do?" He stood up and turned to me, his hand going to mine, trying to pry my fingers from the stone, his cheeks round and rosy with his grin.

"I filled it with my love Jacky, and a little extra that I got from Karen, Mary Beth, Tilly, Hosea, Kieran, Molly, Sean, Mr Trelawny, Reverend Swanson, Mr Pearson, Uncle…" I made a show of gasping for a breath after listing off so many names, then swallowed before deciding to mention the names which followed, "and Javier and Bill too, and Mr Strauss… and Dutch."

My voice had wavered and I needed a second to compose myself. I cleared my throat, and was grateful that Jack was preoccupied by looking at the grey lump of rock in my hand. It was warm from my body heat and he gasped a little when he took it from me, marvelling about it's temperature.

"But it's a big rock. Plenty of room for more love. How 'bout you ask everyone to hold on tight to that rock, and put all their love and care into it. So, as long as you've got that, you'll be safe, and you'll be able to remember all of us and know that we ain't ever leaving you, not in our hearts."

"Okay!" He did a little jump and squeezed the rock in his hand again, holding it to his chest with the biggest smile I'd seen all year. It warmed my heart despite the freezing temperatures. I glanced up to where Lenny was sat wrapped up in his winter coat, a book in his gloved hands.

"Why don't you go ask Lenny if he don't mind taking a break from reading?" I suggested, and Jack immediately spun around and ran over to him.

I watched him from a distance, as he excitedly explained the concept. Lenny chuckled and looked up at me from across the camp. He put his book down, laced his fingers together and pushed them out to stretch out his hands before giving them a shake and rocking his head from side to side, limbering up before taking the rock from Jack and cupping it tightly between both hands and squeezing it as hard as he could, eyes intently focused on them. I grinned and laughed to myself, loving his commitment to making the boy smile. I knew everyone would be just as eager to please, not afraid of making a fool of themselves.

For the rest of the afternoon Jack went around the camp asking people to contribute to the pebble. I was glad to have given him something to amuse him, and perhaps something to remember us all by, even if it was just a simple rock. It would be nice if he remembered us all each time he looked at it, if it didn't get lost along the way during whatever trips he and his parents were about to embark on.

In the late afternoon Arthur came back. Charles was not by his side but he quickly reassured us that he had simply gone to visit the Wapiti Reservation after the negotiations hadn't exactly gone to plan. I tried not to listen to the details, despite this horrid feeling that built in the pit of my gut as days went by. I kept trying to reason with myself that Arthur had been putting his life in danger far longer than he had known me and had always come out alive. It didn't stop the voice in my head that would whisper about his luck running out…

Before I spiralled into those thoughts I got on with preparing dinner. As long as I had Arthur back in my arms at the end of the day, whatever chaos had found him while he was gone was not worth thinking about. Torturing myself was not going to help anyone, especially not Arthur, who would no doubt grow tired of my whittling about his well being. I just had to keep telling myself that soon this would all be over.

–

"Canada, I'm thinking. Would be their best chance. They can't stay here much longer after all of that mess we left behind after the negotiations today," Charles was saying over his helping of rabbit stew. He'd returned from the reservation, where he'd apparently spent the best part of the evening convincing them to start packing up to leave. "Rains Fall seems hesitant, not that I don't understand him. They've been moved around enough, all they want is to settle and have peace so they can live."

"Doesn't seem like they'll be able to do that here though," John said, and Arthur murmured a sound of agreement.

"He's coming to terms with that I think. He knows they'll have to move on sooner or later, it's just hard for him to accept right now, even harder for Eagle Flies. He's even more against the idea," Charles replied.

"He's got a lot of passion and fire in him, that man. He ain't quite learned though, that sometimes passion like that can get you killed," Arthur said. Charles silently nodded in agreement and looked down at his plate. "Canada, you say?"

"Canada," Charles nodded. "And I'd go with them."

"Really?" My brows raised. A quick, sharp pain went through my heart as in a second it became reality that the group was splitting up. These people I had lived with for so long and come to love, we were all going separate ways...

"Yeah. I don't have any other ideas," he chuckled a bit, then shook his head and became a little more serious, "I like it, with them. I feel closer to my mother."

I smiled, comforted by the fact that even if Charles wouldn't be with us, he'd have a family.

"Arthur," I heard from behind. It was Sadie's gravelly whisper and my heart dropped. I knew what she was going to ask. Arthur, sitting beside me around the fire, glanced over his shoulder and nodded. Then he wordlessly leaned over to kiss my temple, and got up. He stepped over the log we sat on and headed away from the group with Sadie.

They were going to the O'Driscolls' hideout. More bloodshed. More danger. I took a breath and met Charles' eyes.

"I'm happy for you Charles. You deserve to be with people who care about you, who'll all keep each other safe. And the fact they also share your heritage, that's even nicer," I smiled at him and he nodded, "when do you think you'll go?"

"Soon as I've convinced them," he chuckled a little again, the corner of his lip lifting.

"I'll miss you," I told him. It seemed to startle him but only a little, he was often cool and calm and not even surprising words of emotion could throw him off for long.

"I'll miss you too," he said after a moment, and the words sounded almost like a revelation, like he also hadn't fully wrapped his head around the fact he'd be saying goodbye to us all until now. "We'll write to each other, all of us, yeah?"

"Definitely," I nodded, my smile widening, "and if I ever find myself in Canada, I'll have a free place to stay, right?" I teased just a little and he laughed.

"Of course.”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr2fanfic #atink #rdr2 #reader insert

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years ago

Note

elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance.

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand.

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck.

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out.

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well.

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #can i offer you all some proposal fluff in these trying times???#alicia i'm sorry this took forever!!!#ficcery

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andawaywego · 5 years ago

Note

Hey!! Could you maybe write a jealous Dani fic please? I mean we all know Jamie is a catch.

she totally is. but...they both are. here you go! i hope you like it.

The first time that Dani ever saw Jamie—coming into the kitchen at Bly, dusty and dirty in with those rolled-back sleeves and that unaffected smirk on her lips—the sight of her knocked the breath from her chest. Even under the grime on her cheeks and the shimmer of sweat, Jamie somehow looked like a Hollywood starlet. One of those black-and-white movie stars that Dani grew up fascinated by. Her curly brown hair brushing the tops of her shoulders, her eyes happy and bright, even the pink shape of her mouth and the pale column of her neck. It was almost hard to look at.

Of course, Dani kept that to herself for a little while. It wasn’t as if she’d never thought of girls as beautiful before—or that she hadn’t daydreamed about them every so often. It was that Jamie was a colleague, an associate, and someone she saw practically every day. Throw in the added bonus of Dani having just lost her fiancé who was haunting her, the mess that was everything Flora and Miles, and all the rest and it’s amazing that they found each other at all, really.

But then they’d kissed and Jamie hadn’t run even when Dani had and it was as if she came even more beautiful every time Dani became aware of something else in this hard world that tried to put her down. The lines beneath her eyes were something she caught herself staring at, that scowl she came to love a near-permanent fixture on Jamie’s face. The way she looked in the summer sun, pruning roses and wiping the sweat from her forehead. It was...a lot.

And Dani is only human. Of course she thought Jamie was beautiful the moment she first saw her, just as she knows she is now. It’s a truth she’s come to live with: Jamie is absolutely breathtaking, even on her worst day.

And she would absolutely roll her eyes if Dani ever said that aloud.

It’s been thirteen months since that first day at Bly and Jamie is still beautiful, yes. All the time.

But Dani isn’t the only one who notices that.

Of course she isn’t. She could be so lucky.

Jamie has had a myriad of smitten fans since they opened The Leafling—teenage girls shopping for corsages who aren’t sure what to make of her winning smile and winking eyes; men who come in shopping for wives, or girlfriends, or mothers and trail after her around the store as she suggests different arrangements; even little boys who come in with their parents who turn bright red the moment Jamie greets them.

And Dani knows it shouldn’t bother her. No matter who it is that’s fallen under Jamie’s spell, she’s the one that goes home with her at night. She’s the one who knows what it’s like to touch Jamie and kiss her and be loved by her in return. It isn’t as if she owns Jamie—you can’t be the property of someone else.

But again: she’s human. She has flaws.

And one of them is the bitter knot of jealousy in her chest as she watches the bearded guy—who’s come in three times in the last week—listen to Jamie describe the meanings of different rose types.

He’s handsome enough—tall and blue-eyed with a dimple in his left cheek that’s put on display every time he smiles. And he smiles a lot at Jamie as she speaks. Every so often, he’ll say something Dani can’t quite hear from her spot behind the counter—working on an arrangement for someone’s recently-engaged daughter—and Jamie will laugh, this genuine, joyful noise that never fails to make Dani’s stomach bottom out.

“What about pink, then?” the man asks and Dani narrowed eyes bore holes into the back of his head. “If red means love and desire.”

There’s a quality to his voice when he says this that sort of makes Dani want to smack him across the face. Briefly, she imagines going over and forcing herself into the interaction—wrapping her arm around Jamie’s waist and pulling her tightly into her side. Glaring daggers until the man gets the hint and stops his incessant and completely unsubtle flirtations.

“Well, they can mean a lot of things,” Jamie begins, and her voice trails off in a list of the different emotions that pink can convey. The familiar cadence of her voice washes over Dani’s ears, making her mind calm a little, her hands steady.

Her ears still feel hot, yes, and her chest tight, but she forces herself to watch Jamie’s profile as she talks. The way she moves her hands. The smile on her face that’s always there when she’s discussing something she’s passionate about.

She’s mesmerizing, really. Sometimes it’s like Dani can’t even think clearly because of it.

Her eyes trail down Jamie’s neck to the collar of her shirt, buttoned high to hide the love bite Dani left on her neck the night before. She’d scolded Dani when she saw it that morning, while she was getting dressed, but she’d been grinning as she did it. Biting her lip. And she’s been stealing kisses between customers all day.

Dani does that, too—pretending to be bother by the marks that Jamie leaves behind, but she’s never really attempted to hide them once they’re there. There’s something to being able to see the evidence of Jamie on her body. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of it.

Mr. Beard laughs and Dani’s eyes flit over to him. He looks way too charmed with himself. She rolls her eyes so hard it kind of hurts, then forces herself to return to her arrangement.

Eyes down. Hum a song to herself so she can’t hear what he’s saying to her girlfriend. Good distractions. Clean and non-violent thoughts.

Eventually, she’s jarred from them by a light touch at her waist. When she looks up, Jamie is there, smiling fondly and it makes Dani’s heart stutter in her chest.

“Can I squeeze by ya’?” Jamie asks. “Need the till.”

“Oh. Right.”

Dani moves to the side, letting Jamie slide behind her, and has to force herself to keep from making a truly inelegant noise when she feels Jamie’s hips press into her from behind as she goes.

It takes her a moment to realize that Mr. Beard is standing in front of the counter, a single yellow rose in his hand. He gives Dani an awkward, close-lipped smile as Jamie reads him his total, fishing into his back pocket to pull out a few bills.

“Um, so,” he says once Jamie has handed him his change. She leans forward against the counter curiously. His eyes flit to Dani for a moment, an expression she can’t quite read on his face. She thinks it might be slight aggravation. She turns her attention back to her arrangement. “I’m sorry if this is forward, but I’m actually buying this...for you.”

Everything falls silent. Dani’s muscles freeze and she blinks down at her flowers, trying to figure out if she’d just heard him right. Beside her, she feels Jamie’s similar reaction and she can see—out of the corner of her eye—that the man is offering her the rose he’s just bought.

“I thought maybe you’d like to get dinner sometime?” he says, continuing on like the air in the shop hasn’t just been viciously murdered and is now stagnant and thick.

Dani clenches her jaw so tightly, grinding her teeth together, that it could snap.

“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is understandably surprised. Dani feels, rather than sees, Jamie glance over at her and then away. “Um…”

“I know this great place just up the street—”

“I...uh…”

“—and I’d love the chance to get to know you better.”

“Excuse me,” Dani says, so quietly she almost can’t hear herself, and turns on her heel, marching into the back room and closing the door behind herself.

The office is really nothing more than a desk, two filing cabinets, and a couch that had been part of the shop’s lease. Frustration is licking the back of Dani’s neck, hot and livid, and she has to clench her fists to keep from hitting something.

She’s never been a violent person—no, never—but the audacity of this stranger to think he has some sort of claim on Jamie—that Jamie would even be interested—is doing interesting things to her poor heart.

This isn’t how she thought her day was going to go, that’s all.

The door is just thick enough that she can hear voices, but can’t actually make out anything that’s being said. After a moment or two, she collapses onto the couch and buries her face in her hands, trying to calm down.

It isn’t as if the guy actually has a chance with Jamie.

They live together, for God’s sake. They have a shop together and a life together and when Dani says, “I love you,” Jamie doesn’t even hesitate to say it back. There’s no realistic risk of losing her to this guy.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. There’s no reason to be upset.

She’s still telling herself that when the door opens sometime later. There’s movement—she can’t really tell because her hands are still covering her eyes—and then a warm hand is wrapping around her arm, gently guiding her hands away.

Jamie is kneeling in front of her with an apologetic smile on her perfect lips. “Hey,” she says simply, softly.

“Hey,” Dani returns. Then, bitterly, “So when’s Beard-o taking you out?”

Jamie’s smile falters for a second, but then she shakes her head. “Oh, Lord. That was the...absolutely worst, wasn’t it? I was actually embarrassed for him.”

It shouldn’t be, really, but her words are still a bit of a relief.

“You mean that’s not your type? Making you pick out the flower he gives you? From your own shop?” Dani asks.

Jamie feigns a shudder. “He loses points for creativity there, yeah.” She grabs one of Dani’s hands and pulls it nearer, pressing her lips to her fingers in a gentle kiss.

Morbid curiosity bites at the back of Dani’s throat. She can’t help but ask, “What did you tell him?”

“What do you think?” Jamie says, a breathless little laugh accompanying the words. “I said no.”

Dani’s shoulders deflate. “Right.” She’s trying her hardest not to sound as frustrated as she’s feeling, but she knows it’s not working.

There aren’t secrets between them anymore. Dani doesn’t think she’d be capable of keeping any even if she wanted to. So Jamie’s smile slips away and she shifts nearer, finally understanding what it is that’s going on.

“You’re not...Poppins, are you actually...jealous?”

Dani shakes her head, looking away. “Of course not,” she says, hating the way the messy swirl of emotions in her chest is making her feel so juvenile and silly.

“You are,” Jamie decides.

And, okay then—

“Yeah, okay,” Dani confesses, her voice pitched a little more exasperated than she’d like. “Some handsome guy comes into our shop and makes you laugh and asks you to dinner because he can do that—he can just ask, and he could hold your hand at dinner if he wanted or give you things that I—” She shakes her head, trying to clear it. “I’m sorry. I know it’s dumb, but I…”

She trails off, unsure of how to finish that thought.

Jamie is staring at her silently, her expression one of serious consideration and it makes Dani all the more nervous. All this time together, part of her has been so scared that, one of these days, Jamie will finally find the thing about her that’s made everyone else want to leave, too.

“You wanna know what I told him?” Jamie says after the silence has lingered for a little while and she doesn’t wait for an answer. “I told him that I’m taken. That I’m in a relationship with somebody I love more than anything.” Dani looks up, finally, to meet her eyes. “And even if I wasn’t...even in a world where I never met you, Dani, it still would have been no. But I did meet you and I love you. So you have nothing to worry about.”

And she smiles again—that brilliant smile that never fails to make Dani’s knees feel weak; she’s so glad she’s sitting down—and, just like that, all those worries and fears drain away. She knows Jamie better than she’s ever known anyone and she knows that Jamie would never lie to her.

She leans down and Jamie meets her halfway, grinning into the kiss in a way that makes Dani grin, too. She scratches a hand through Jamie’s hair, one arm coming down to grip her upper arm, kissing her back with everything she has.

“I’m so in love with you, Dani,” she whispers, dotting her kisses to Dani’s cheek and pulling her into a one-armed hug.

And it’s been over a year, but those words still make Dani feel like the ground has been dropped out from beneath her feet.

“Well, that’s convenient,” she says. “Because I love you, too.”

Jamie laughs, kisses her again, whispers, “What a coincidence,” into the air as she leans their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry that I—” Dani begins, but Jamie doesn’t let her. Kisses her to shut her up.

“No need,” she says. She runs her fingers down the side of Dani’s face and then pulls her other arm—the one she’s been keeping tucked behind her back—out to reveal a yellow rose, which she offers up. “As a token of my affection.”

“Is this—?” Dani asks, biting her lip to keep from smirking too wide.

“The same.” She shrugs. “He was in a rush to get out. Just left it there on the counter. Figured...it’s paid for. Might as well go to a pretty girl.”

“And that’s me?”

Jamie nods. “That’s you.”

Dani takes the rose and then they’re kissing again and, by the time Jamie is weaving her fingers into Dani’s hair and straddling her on the couch, Dani can hardly remember what she was worried about in the first place.

#send me prompts lads #and love #bc i need it for motivation #and other totally selfish reasons #the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani/jamie #dani x jamie #andawaywego fanfic #prompt #damie prompt

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moonlitceleste · 4 years ago

Text

New Year’s Day

Timari January Day 1 - New Years Day

@timari-month-event

Note: Happy New Year everyone!! This fic is loosely based off of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before but

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Mmph.” Marinette tried and failed to muffle her tired groan through the thick fabric of Tim’s coat.

It was 2:00 a.m. on New Year’s, and the designer was just about ready to go into hibernation.

Steph had prompted (read: bugged) Bruce into throwing a party, and he eventually complied. It was relatively small and nowhere near as extravagant as the annual Wayne Gala, but one could argue that was a good thing. There was no need to uphold a reputation or make conversation with stuffy rich people, after all. Judging by the rambunctious behavior that had occurred all night, the restricted guest list definitely seemed like a good thing.

Naturally, Marinette was invited—she was Tim’s girlfriend, although it was arguable she was part of the family regardless of her relationship with him.

Her closeness to the rest of the Waynes was evident in the way she was immediately pulled away for some “girl time” upon entering the manor. Similarly, Dick and the rest of the boys stole Tim away for brotherly bonding.

They chatted, played games, ate cake, and eventually joined the rest of the family for the countdown. Joyous shouts and yells filled the manor, and Marinette stole a kiss from Tim when the clock hit midnight.

The party didn’t stop there, though; from then on, it was drinking games and group activities. Well, drinking games for everyone but Damian. He received a glass of sparkling grape juice instead. He wasn’t very happy about being “treated like a baby,” according to his words, but Marinette took her own glass of the substitute and joined him. She had some important designs to work on tomorrow, and she really didn’t want to wake up with a hangover.

After a while, people started going their separate ways again. Some couples had taken to a room in order to ring in the new year together; others decided to split up into groups and do other activities. Dick dragged Marinette to the gym to show her a cool gymnastics trick he had devised, and the rest of the night was spent hopping rooms to find people and make conversation.

The excitement couldn’t last forever, though, and soon enough the adrenaline started to wear. After an obvious change in the atmosphere, Marinette decided to wander the manor in search of Tim.

She scoured far and wide but failed to find him in the unnecessarily large residence. Rather than continue to wander aimlessly, she decided to wait in one spot until he found her. Sending a text would have been more logical, but her brain didn’t seem to be functioning correctly through its tired haze.

Now, Marinette was standing in the middle of the Wayne Manor living room. The din of celebration had long faded, leaving way for a relatively undisturbed silence. The area bustling with movement just hours earlier was now empty, aside from her and Jason, who was passed out on the couch. She couldn’t tell whether it was from drowsiness or alcohol consumption.

“You tired?”

Marinette yelped softly at the person who had sneaked up behind her. She whirled around, startled, and met Tim’s face. He was mid-laugh, no doubt finding amusement in her reaction. She crossed her arms and pouted, but she really was glad to see him.

Marinette had only spent a few fleeting moments with him that night; she hadn’t really had the chance due to his siblings whisking her away at every opportunity. She didn’t mind—the rest of the Waynes were fun to be around. Maybe a little too fun, because now she was absolutely exhausted.

She fell into Tim’s arms with ease and buried her face in his neck, nodding in response to his initial question.

“Let’s go, then.”

Marinette smiled, pulling back to grab his hand. She nearly started walking, but paused and frowned at the living room.

There were streamers strewn across the floor, alongside metallic confetti, glitter, and glass bottles. Board game pieces were thrown in a haphazard pile, and there was a half-eaten cake on the table. It was one of many. The two Marinette baked had disappeared remarkably fast, but Stephanie had bought a large one from the supermarket as well.

“We should help clean up.”

Tim’s brow furrowed as he considered her statement.

“It’s fine. You didn’t make this mess anyway.”

“Just because I didn’t make it doesn’t mean I can’t help! Besides, you’re not going to let Alfred clean all this up, are you?”

“Actually, Bruce would make the rest of the family help. But you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Tim rolled his eyes at her antics before giving her a peck on the lips. Marinette smiled and gave him an even longer kiss in return, arms snaking around to rest on his waist.

He reciprocated, but to her dismay, gently pushed her away after a minute.

“I thought you said you wanted to clean?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two moved forward to gather the various things littered around, trying their best to be quiet so as not to disturb the body draped over the couch.

Cleaning up bottles together after a New Year’s party probably wasn’t what one would consider romantic or fun, but Marinette wouldn’t trade this for the world.

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi I can tell that it's going to be a long road I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

Marinette yawned for the millionth time that night, hands flying up to rub at her eyes tiredly.

She could feel Tim’s chest rumble as he chuckled, and she relished in the heat his body provided.

Although the back of a sketchy Gotham taxi was a far cry from her ideal cuddling place, she couldn’t complain—the chilly weather gave her an excuse to stay close to him. Marinette leaned back, snuggling deeper into her boyfriend’s chest.

She startled at the brief warmth atop her head as he pressed a kiss on her crown. The designer melted at the sweet gesture and turned around, twisting her body to meet Tim’s ice-blue eyes. He smiled at her tenderly, a genuine one she loved seeing on his face, and she sent back a nose wrinkle in return.

He let out a silent laugh at her antics and lifted their intertwined hands, giving them a kiss. This boy was going to break her if he kept being so charming.

He leaned forward and rubbed their noses together in an eskimo kiss before giving her a peck on the lips.

Marinette nearly whined at his show of affection. The things he did to her.

She turned back around, but only halfway, so her side was laying against Tim rather than her back like before. She would have kissed him again, but she doubted either of them wanted to be caught making out by the taxi driver.

Closing her eyes, she let herself relax, knowing she was safe in Tim’s arms. And when he squeezed her hand one, two, three times, she squeezed right back.

I love you.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or you're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Wait here.”

Marinette tilted her head in confusion as Tim quickly walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of their living room.

The two had just gotten home to their shared apartment and set their thing down. After an exhausting night, what more could he have planned?

Her questions were answered when Tim rushed back into the room, Bluetooth speaker in hand. It was pink, the one Marinette used to play music whenever she was baking. Sometimes Tim would join in, and they’d twirl around in the kitchen and laugh, spatula in hand.

She watched as he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times; seconds later, a delicate melody filtered through the speaker. It was a slow tune—not one she recognized, but the piano notes made for a romantic and dreamy sound.

“May I have this dance?”

Marinette turned to see Tim bent forward at the waist, one arm outstretched like a Disney prince ready to sweep her away. She giggled at his cheesiness and placed her hand in his.

He pulled her forward smoothly, his other arm finding its way around her waist in a classic waltz position.

They stepped off and moved in sync with the music, slowly but surely. Although she wasn’t the best dancer, Tim made it effortless. They glided over the living room floor so smoothly that Marinette felt like a princess at a ball.

It was their own little bubble of bliss, and she could stay there forever, lost in the moment, lost in Tim’s eyes.

And oh, his eyes. She loved all of him, but there was something she adored so much about them. Maybe it was the determined twinkle present whenever he had figured something out, or the happy glint they assumed when he laughed, or the way they softened ever so slightly whenever he looked at her.

Marinette smiled and joined both hands behind his neck. Tim caught on quickly and circled both arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. She closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin, swaying side to side with the music.

They both had a lot of things to do tomorrow, but right now the rest of the world didn’t matter. It was just Marinette and Tim—her best friend, her partner, her world—and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @jalaluvsu @nathleigh @too0bsessedformyowngood

#celestewrites #maribat #timari january #timari month #timari #timinette #tim x marinette #cel's fics

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selenitawars · 4 years ago

Text

Pressentimento

Never Be The Same - Part 7.

Pairing: Sam x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Niece!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader.

Summary: To save Dean’s life, Sam changes a big part of his past, hoping that he’d only forget memories with his college girlfriend. But, not only he changes his life, he also creates a new one.

Word Count: 2332.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Yes, I’m back after over a year and a half. I know I’m a dumbass for making y’all wait for so long, but, honestly, I want this to be a fun writing, so I try not to pressure myself. Won’t make promises. Either way, always love to know your opinions. Hope you enjoy this comeback haha!

Pressentimento masculine noun 1. act of feeling in advance, more through emotion than reason, the occurrence of a future fact; suspicion. "I have a p. that this will not work" 2. knowledge of what will happen, obtained by intuition; forecast, hunch, omen.

You still hadn't explained everything to your father nor your uncle. Cas remembered one of the episodes that occurred with you when you were younger, around ten or so. It was hard for you. Every time you tried to explain yourself, things were hard to explain. All the time, something blocked you from exposing the fear inside you, the fear of letting things out.

The way their "new" memories came to them didn't help. It was so unpredictable. Cas remembered you praying first and then, mixed memories, tiny ones, which made him assume a lot about you already; and worry as well. Dean remembered more, like the time Sam was soulless and you lived with him for months, you concluded he was remembering things by the impact they had in his life. As for Sam, well, apparently things were coming more chronologically for him, but a little late, since he also had a lot of Camila to remember.

You tried to think how to talk to them about your crisis. The big ones. It was so complicated. When it started happening, you had your godmother to help with calming down and understanding how sensible you were; but even Vanessa had to talk with the Winchesters to fully understand what made you so much stronger and sensitive. Anyway, she wouldn't help you now that she was in the list of people to whom you never existed.

Oh, and your mother...

Looking at pictures of her nowadays became an addiction. You couldn't sleep before searching a little more about her, not that you've been having much sleep or any of this helped. You wish so bad you could talk to her. And now that Sam told ya you reminded him so much of Camila, you really studied her, trying to find the resemblance.

How would you tell them there's more? More of you to worry. You wanted to wait for a time when the memories hangovers weren't so heavy on them. They were all trying to act normal, but it was obvious - you've never been at home for this long, they were never so quiet. Dean wasn't even drinking, to make sure he wouldn't be more confused.

You were lying down on your bed, trying to ease the headache. It was normal to have a day just to be tired, but after the all day just resting you still got a headache by night. Went to get a pill to make it better and when you swallow it, you realize something.

"I don't exist." You whisper to yourself.

For the first time in that day, you felt useful. Even with the headache, you got in front of the computer and started to do your thing. For some reason you got happy when you confirmed your theory.

"I was never born."

"You gotta stop thinking about that." Dean warned you.

"No, I mean... I don't exist."

The three men stared at you with confusion, you repeated.

"I don't exist."

Still nothing. The room was filled with silence while you hoped for the clicking in their minds. It never came. You sighed.

"I never existed! Never did anything!"

Sam looked at you like he was starting to worry, while holding a bowl with cereal. Just like Dean, who chewed his, probably thinking you've gone crazy.

"I don't understand why you're so excited saying it." Cas finally said.

"Isn't it obvious?" They once more, didn't react. "There are no records of me, at all. Nobody knows about me. I only left the bunker once."

"What's your point?" Dean asked.

"We should keep it that way."

"What? Why?" The brothers said together.

"Well, if nobody knows I'm here, we're in advantage. It's always good to have a secret backup, right?"

"Like... as a surprise element?" Castiel suggested, you nodded. "Y/N, you don't truly expect us to treat you like a secret weapon..."

"Hell no." Dean agreed.

"It's not like it."

"Well, I don't see your point." You father stated. "I know this seems messed up, but, we can fix it. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm thinking!" You made them quiet. "C'mon, think with me: I barely left the bunker, how could anyone know about me?"

"We know about you." Dean answered.

"But you've seen me. And your memories, are just yours, this doesn't mean the world knows about me."

"Ok, but you'll need to use an ID sometime. Or will you live forever here, inside the bunker?"

"Dean, you should know it's easier to make a fake ID look real if there isn't a real one to prove the fake one as fake."

Sam took a deep breath.

"Ok, so we leave it as it is. How much long do you think it would last?"

"Not much, I know. But at least, for a while it could be useful."

"I don't see how, Y/N. I'm not using you as my secret-spy-soldier or whatever."

"Sam is right. It's not worth it."

"Castiel?" You looked at him, only to find the agreeing look. You looked down.

"Look, how can you be sure nobody else remembers you?" The angel tried to clear your mind.

"For most people I know, I never happened. And the others, will probably only remember me when they see me, if they do. Until then..."

"That's not right." Sam interrupted. "I had this feeling about you, before we arrived on that day; like I left something behind, but I couldn't remember why."

"So did I."

"I got one your prayers for not getting news from us." You stood there, silent.

"That's it? A feeling you forgot something?!" You left for your bedroom, a little ofended they didn't listen to you. Your idea was good, logical. You genuinely thought they would see it as a good thing out of all this.

Reflecting on it, you finally notice: you may not know your family as well as before. At first it sounds crazy, but this is all crazy, ain't it? And after doing their exercise for a couple hours, thinking about your childhood, the events that crossed it and when it all began, you got yourself some questions.

You fell asleep while still thinking, trying to find logic somewhere and always getting to the same point, a lost point. Somehow while sleeping, you had no dreams, didn't wake up once; not even the fact that you were with a jacket bothered you.

"Hey, man. You good?" Dean noticed Sam squeeze his eyes.

"Yep. Just those flashbacks. I hate to have them by day, but I can't sleep no longer."

"Like a constant hangover, thank God it's not a heavy one." Sam did not answer. "Sam?"

"Right..." Sam stared at the floor, seeing stuff in his mind. He blinked multiple times after a little.

"You all right? You seem shocked. What did you remember?"

"It's just... Y/N's suggestion."

"Dude, that was today."

"Very funny!" Dean smiled a little to ease his brother. "It got me thinking. Why would she want that?"

"Honestly," Castiel entered suddenly. "I think she is trying to get something good out of this."

"Good? I see her point, but..."

"Not good." Cas interrupted, correcting himself. "Useful, at least."

"It's not as useful as she thinks." Dean says as if it's obvious.

"It's the only thing she has to offer." Castiel putted it in a weird way, but made sense. They silented for an instant. "Still, how does that has to do with your flashback, Sam?"

"I thought that maybe I should listen to her. Maybe there was a point."

"You, Sammy, considered the possibility of being saved by her?"

"Obviously not. I wondered: what if her non-existence helped her get away from this craziness. Like, she could get to any school if we put some effort."

"You concluded it fast." Cas commented.

"Well, yeah. Then I... questioned." Sam felt the gazes at him. "How did she get dragged into hunting in the first place? Why did I not stop it? And one more thing popped up: why did I leave college?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Dean couldn't understand his brother.

"Dean, if it wasn't for my anger towards Jessica's death, who knows..." He explained. "So why I left Stanford, making Camila stay behind and after weeks drop out too?"

Castiel took a seat.

"Why did you?"

Sam opened the door, showly. You were in your bed, far from his atmosphere, enjoying a rest you needed. He passed the door carefully, took a look at your room and turned the lights off. Ever since that hunt days ago, when he saw you sleep at the motel bed while he was reading about the case, the day he woke up before you and as you slept in the car coming back home, Sam felt peace as he watched you.

It was the moment he could breath easily and a little relaxed. You were resting, next to him, nothing could hurt you in your sleep. There, you were safe and wasn't leaving soon. So he couldn't help watch you once more; just stood by the door for a couple seconds, smiled at the taught of you having a break from this madness for some hours. Grabbed the door and heard your move, turning to check if he had woken ya.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Your voice sounded lazy. "I have a light sleep."

"So do I." You nodded. You knew it. He regrets commenting it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"No, tell me." He understood you couldn't sleep anymore.

"You don't want to talk now."

"It's about earlier, I know." You said while rubbing your eyes. "Just spit it." He gave in and sat in your chair.

"Why do you wanna do it?"

"Why don't you?"

"Why would I?"

"You've always wanted this." He gulped.

"What? No!"

"You never wanted me to be in risk, you hated the fact I made you all vulnerable, now nobody knows I'm here. I know this isn't permanent and things can change, but for now, you could finally be at peace. Nobody knows me, none of you have to worry."

Samuel digested everything you said and got his answer prepared fastly enough.

"For a long time I asked myself if Jessica never died, would I be here? And you know, as things turned out to be, as I found out more and more throughout the years I got the answer." He paused. "I would. Because if it wasn't Jess, it would be Dean or dad, or a friend."

"What do you mean?"

"I left college for revenge." You got surprised. "It wasn't Jess. Not anymore." That sounded weird. "I made a choice and I know now that somehow, at some point, no matter how many times... I would make that choice again. As soon as somebody I care about got in danger. So I left college. For you."

Sam got back from his first hunt after two years. Camila was waiting. They talked and she was serious when she told him to call Dean. Leave as soon as he could. She said she had a bad feeling, he had to find his father. Was something repentine, fast and clear - the fear in her voice stopped Sam from questioning.

"The way she talked to me... her eyes, getting sudden tears. At first I tried to calm her, jokes on me, I blamed her hormones. Camila proved me wrong. I knew she had that sometimes, like with tests or bad decisions, maybe something simple like knowing staying in was better than going to a party. She was always right. If not totally right, fast enough to avoid regret." He looked down as her voice came to his head and repeated her words. "'This is your family we're talking about, Samuel! Your child's grandfather.' She screamed. I was scared." You two laughed a little. "She begged. Aggressively. But, I didn't leave because she did."

"Why then?"

"I called Dean to get back there and pick me up because once we talked, I got that bad feeling too. And was suddenly afraid. Afraid something would happen to either of you." You stayed silent. "I hoped things would be more simple, soon I'd be back and things would go back to normal. You would be born and grow up, normal. We would be a family..."

"Please, don't say normal." He smiled.

"Your mother's bad feeling... I don't know what is was about exactly. She got scared too in that moment and it was the only time I saw her that scared. But I know that mine became true. Only, it was even worse. There was no blame. Of all things that happened in those months, how worried I was with my father, you, Camila and even Dean... The hunts, the confusion and overwhelming information all at once. The fear. Your mother's death was the most sudden and painful." You saw a tear run down his cheek, followed by a couple more. Sam had more to say but you spoke before, in the heat of the moment.

"She knew." He looked back at you, now with red eyes. "I think she knew something bad was going to happen."

"She knew we would be in danger." By we, he meant himself, his uncle and your grandpa.

"No. Not that. She knew that something terrible was happening already and would get worse. But she didn't tell you to go to stop it." His tears froze, lost in your words. "Like you said. Camila was always right about this bad feelings. She was certain." You were sure thanks to your own experience with it.

"About Dean needing me more than her?" You denied.

"About you needing the rest of your family once I was born."

#sam x daughter!reader #dean x niece!reader #castiel x platonic!reader #sam x daughter au #dean x niece au #castiel x platonic au #dad!sam winchester #uncle!dean winchester #uncle!castiel #winchester!reader #winchester!daughter #sam winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x niece!reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural au

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angryschnauzer · 5 years ago

Text

Superior Specimen - Chapter 8

Summary: One night when you are following the Archaeology tag on instagram you stumbled across a fun looking dig… and an even more interesting Paleontologist who soon follows you back. Over the following weeks you start chatting and a friendship soon grows.

Relationship: AU Henry Cavill x Female Reader (No race or body shape mentioned)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Warnings: Slow Burn, NSFW, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Drunken Piggy Back Rides, Oral Sex (Female Recieving), Drama, Theft, Amateur Heroics, Hospital Visit, Shower Sex, Oral Sex (Male Receiving), Blow Job, Fingering, Lavish lifestyle, Henry is loaded, The Shard, Expensive Gifts, Sixty nine, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Angst, Argument, Jealousy, Talk of car crashes, heroics, rough sex, use of safe words, Anal play,

I do not operate a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, as you will then be notified whenever i post something new.

I don’t have a masterlist, but all my works are on AO3, link here. Usually i post oneshots to Tumblr and AO3, and multichapters exclusively to AO3, but as this is my first henry story and its going to be a short series, i’ll post to both places.

Chapter 8

On the tube an old woman had offered you a tissue and had whispered quietly;

“He’s not worth crying over my dear”

You swallowed and smiled weakly at her;

“Unfortunately he was… he was just an idiot too”

“They all are my dear, they all are”

She got off at the next stop, giving you a pat on the arm before leaving the carriage, leaving you ride the rest of the way to Fulham Broadway on your own.

You were on autopilot when you arrived, walking through the small shopping mall that had grown around the tube station, grabbing a pair of overpriced knock-off designer sunglasses from the concession stand to hide your puffy and red eyes, swollen from crying. As you stood in the crowd at the lights to cross the road, a stream of Ambulances and Police cars screamed past, lights and sirens blasting, but it was London, every day there was a crisis or accident and you were used to them.

The walk to your flat was quick, just a few roads from the tube, and you were thankful you’d brought your small clutch bag from the hotel room that had your phone, wallet, and keys in. Once inside you pulled off your clothing, everything Henry had bought for you, tossing it into a heap on the floor before you climbed into bed and curled into a ball, sobbing into the pillow.

You woke to the sound of a metal on plastic crunch from the street outside, familiar with the sound and you knew it was vehicle vs wheelie bin, an all too familiar occurrence when collection day was on a Friday and people went out that night, so the street would still be littered with bins the following day. Staring up at the ceiling you heard the doorbell ring, glaring at the ceiling but refusing to move. You didn’t care if your bin that had ended up a casualty of a car not looking where it was going, so when the bell finally timed out you closed your eyes… only to be rudely disturbed by a loud knocking on the door a minute later, a muffled voice from the other side;

“Princess… it’s me; Henry… please, just tell me you’re ok… I’ve got to know you’re ok…”

You could feel your emotions rising within you; a heat, an anger, and as the knocking continued you grabbed the dressing gown hanging on the back of the door and was still tying it as you pulled the door open, but surprised to see state of Henry, his clothes a mess and his face blotchy;

“What the hell happe…”

Your words were cut short as he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight;

“You’re alright… my god, you’re ok…”

“Henry, what is going on?”

He let you go and started pacing;

“I was an ass, I didn’t follow you, I was stupid… I tried calling you but you never picked up…”

“I had it on silent… I didn’t want anyone to disturb our date”

“And then the accident, I’d gone back to the hotel, I knew it was the closest tube to where we were...”

“Accident?”

“There was an accident, on the road outside the London Bridge Tube, a bus and council truck collided and ran into the queue… I stayed and helped the emergency services; I was trying to find you… but you weren’t there…”

Your hand was over your mouth, tears pooling on your lashes as you looked at him, and realised he cared so much for you that he had literally pulled people out of the wreckage of an major accident because he thought he had lost you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you cradled the back of his head as he slumped to the floor, sobbing into your shoulder and the softness of your dressing gown.

Finally he pulled his head back, a weak smile on his face as he looked into your eyes, and you saw a different Henry, one that was fragile, one that needed you as much as you needed him.

“C’mon, let me put the kettle on”

Sipping on sweet tea as you both sat at the kitchen table, dunking Digestive biscuits in the deep brown steaming mugs, you looked him up and down;

“You are a mess”

He glanced down and realised his shirt and jeans were covered in dirt, grime, and in some places blood;

“You’re right” he paused before looking back to you; “Look, I’ve got a suggestion… pack a bag. Comfy clothing, overnight things. We’ll head back to the hotel and collect our things, then head back to my place. I’ll cook dinner and we can talk… ask all those things we’ve both wanted to ask since we met, yeah?”

He looked at you like a hopeful puppy, his deep blue eyes watery where he feared you would say no, but as you nodded he let out the breath he had been holding, and a genuine smile spread over his face.

Henry opened the door to his place and stepped aside, letting you enter and look around as he shut the door, resting all the bags from the hotel room on the shiny white tiles that covered the floor.

“This is your place?”

“It’s home for the next few months” he shut the door and wrapped his arm around you; “I gave up on having a permanent place about five years ago. I would always come back to a dust filled nightmare and a fridge that was a biohazard. I keep a PO box for any mail and a storage unit for my things that I don’t need when I’m away”

You looked at him;

“It sounds very… lonely…”

He paused, considering your words;

“I’ve never thought about it that way… but, you’re right” he wrapped his arms around you, his gaze intense; “I’m sorry I over-reacted earlier… about your flatmate. I was just… I don’t know, so focused I guess on this amazing thing we have now, and what we were talking about last night… how those I fall for push me away when I have to leave… I could only think ‘this guy will be around when I’m not’...”

You reached up and cupped his cheek with your hand, realising in that moment that for all the bravado and confidence, beneath that Henry was just like you, like anyone else, and feared losing those he cared for;

“I would wait… I will wait…”

You pressed a kiss to his lips, and the pair of you just held each other for the longest time, before he pulled away;

“What kind of host am I? I haven’t even offered you a cup of tea!”

Laughing you followed him into the kitchen, looking around at the sparse worktops, all the cupboards pristine white. Even the appliances were just plain brushed aluminium. As the kettle bubbled away you pushed yourself up onto the central island, sitting on the marble countertop as you watched Henry move around the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk, sniffing it and cringing;

“Okay, tea may be off the menu… the milk’s off”

Pausing he opened the cupboard, shoulders slumping when he saw the empty tea caddy;

“No tea either…”

Leaning back you pulled your phone from your pocket and opened google maps;

“This is Warwick Square, right?”

“Yes”

You pinched the screen and zoomed out, jumping off the counter;

“C’mon, there’s a Tesco Express just around the corner”

Walking hand in hand around Pimlico with Henry, it dawned on you that you had never visited this part of London, the sights and sounds much like most of the city, but where each little borough had its own character. Once you reached the supermarket he grabbed a basket and picked up the few things he needed, before his hand hovered over the selection of biscuits;

“Ok, make or break time to find out if we are truly compatible” his voice had an element of mischief in it as he spoke; “Milk or Dark Chocolate Digestives?”

You looked at the selection before you set your hand down on the bright blue packet;

“Trick question, we both know the true answer is Milk Chocolate Hobnobs”

He laughed as you dropped the packet into the basket, wrapping his massive arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest;

“I knew there was a reason I loved you” he turned to the row of refrigerators on the other side of the isle, unaware of what he’d said, and how your eyes were a little wider as you took in his admission; “Shall I make some burnt offerings for you tonight? I have somewhat limited culinary skills, but I can rustle up something with meat or fish…”

Nodding you were still a little stunned, finally finding your voice;

“Yeah, I’ll eat anything”

He cocked an eyebrow and you playfully batted at his arm;

“Oh shut up” you laughed

Dinner had been nice. An easy dish of roasted pork, Henry had thrown in some potatoes and had let them roast with alongside, and a simple salad. The one thing he did have readily stocked in his place was alcohol, and between the two of you an entire bottle of vintage Pinot Noir had been sunk over the course of dinner, and as you watched him stack the dishwasher you spread out on the massive white sofa that dominated the open plan space. You couldn’t help yourself but you popped the button of your jeans, letting out a sigh of relief.

Checking your phone you reopened your roommates’ email and read it again, before hitting reply. You knew deep down you wouldn’t be able to get a mortgage, but asked that you be kept in the loop and would start looking for another place come Monday. Having hit send you saw another email, this time from your Manager, requesting that you attend a review on Monday morning;

“Huh, so much for giving me a week off” you muttered to yourself, before looking up and seeing Henry approaching you, two full glasses of red wind in hand.

“Everything ok?”

Taking the glass you smiled;

“Yeah, work want me to go in for a review on Monday morning”

“Did they say what it was about?”

“No, but I’m guessing ‘playing heroics and injuring yourself on the job isn’t in your job description, please don’t sue us’ is probably on the agenda”

Settling next to you he rested a hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze;

“I’m sure you’re right” he sipped at the wine before setting it on the small table at the side; “Hey I meant to ask, does your roommate have an Instagram account or Facebook page?”

“Yeah, I’ll pull it up. Its where he’s trying to do more serious photography”

He nodded and tapped at his phone for a few seconds before setting it aside, raising his glass again and clinking it against yours;

“Cheers”

By the time the last dregs of the 2nd bottle of wine were drained from your glasses you were drunk as skunks and just an amorous. You were draped over Henry’s lap, his hand was attempting to sneak under your t-shirt as you curled one hand in his hair, wrapping a deep brown strand around your finger as you kissed him lazily. When his hand finally found your breast you moaned at his touch, his lips brushing against your neck;

“I think we should take this to the bedroom”

You giggled;

“With the amount of wine we’ve had? Can you still get it up?”

He pushed his crotch up against you;

“Princess I’m already ‘up’, now I need to be in, and I don’t care which hole, I just want to feel you around my dick as we have some nasty drunk sex”

You attempted to slide off his lap and land on your feet, but what really happened was you tumbled into a heap on the soft white rug, one leg still on the sofa as the other hit the coffee table and your ass in the air;

“Help!” you cried out, giggling as Henry stood and swayed, before wrapping his arm around your waist and carrying you under his arm to the bedroom like a misbehaving poodle in Harrods.

He dropped you onto the bed and in the light from the lounge you watched as he yanked his t-shirt over his head, and started to unfasten his jeans, letting out a sigh of relief when the massive bulge in his boxers was allowed more room to grow. With a growl be bent over you and pulled your jeans down your legs, your panties following suit, before flipping you over so you were on your front. He went to reach for your ass but had forgotten his jeans were still around his thighs, and he proceeded to trip-tumble onto the bed beside you. You couldn’t help but to giggle into the soft duvet, and it earned you a single spank on your ass that make you squeal.

Rolling onto your back you looked at Henry as he huffed and puffed to take his jeans and boxers off, and you spread your legs as your hands strayed to your pussy;

“Are you doing to fuck me, or shall I just get myself started?” you said with more sass than needed, but it earned you a low groan and you could have sworn you heard seams ripping as he finally rid himself of his clothes.

“Cheeky wench!” Henry pounced on you, pulling your top over your head before fumbling with your bra, finally getting you out of it as he flung it across the room and you heard it hit something in the darkness; “I’ll show you, gonna fuck you so good you’ll have to sit on a cushion when you go into work on Monday”

He flipped you over and pulled your ass up, and you instinctively arched your back and bared yourself to him, prone and ready, begging for attention. You felt his hands smooth over your ass before dipping between your legs;

“Already so wet for me, you need me to fuck this cunt Princess? Fill you up with my cum? Or should I cum over your beautiful tits, so you can watch me as I spray my load on you, huh?”

He slid two fingers into your soaked hole, stretching you as his thumb found your clit and he rubbed harshly at it, the wine making him lose his finesse but up his pressure. When he pulled his fingers out you let out a needy whine, only to feel him press his dick against you, rutting into your crease and smearing your juices over himself.

The friction was delicious, and you found yourself pressing back and eager for more, earning a low chuckle to rumble up from Henry’s chest;

“You like that Princess? Like me rubbing my dick against your asshole?”

“Oh fuck… fuck… more…”

You felt him spit on your ass as he lowered his dick and slowly but firmly filled your pussy. As you were getting used to be filled so deep you felt his thumb press against your asshole;

“NERD!”

Suddenly Henry stopped;

“Princess?”

You turned, looking over your shoulder;

“Look Hen, I may be up for some anal play, but lube… you gotta use lube…”

You saw him look back and forth between your ass and his bedside drawers, as if trying to work out whether to forget the ass play and just fuck your pussy, or to give up your pussy for just a few seconds and get the lube. In the end the lube won, and he quickly slid out of you, leaning across the bed and yanking the drawer open, before pulling out a small bottle of Durex Lube. You saw it and grinned;

“Ooh nice one. Make sure there’s enough for a tit-wank in the morning”

Henry paused and looked at you, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting at what you’d said as it fought through the wine haze;

“Fuck, if I didn’t want to fuck you doggy style quite so much I’d say let’s do that now…”

He settled behind you and rammed his dick straight back into you, making you squeal as he filled you. You heard the quiet squeeze of the pump on the bottle before the cool gel fell on the crease of your ass and his fingers started to massage against your back door. He ran his finger around and around your brown rose, and you could feel yourself relaxing and trying to push back to get him to go further, making you whine;

“Please Hen… do something…”

He ran his thumb over your asshole and rested it on it before finally pushing in, holding the digit inside just up to the first knuckle, and that’s when he started to move in your pussy.

“So. Fucking. Good. My dirty little Princess…”

You whined for more, for him to go harder, deeper, and he did so with glee;

“You want more? Fuck yes, take my dick, can feel your insides parting for me, you like my thumb in your ass? Like being double stuffed?”

“Fuck…” your head was swimming, your chest resting against the bed as you snuck your hand between your legs and started to strum at your clit, urging your orgasm on as Henry turned into a feral beast behind you, fucking you raw and dirty, you pushing back for each thrust to feel him deeper and split you wider.

Your orgasm happened without warning, screaming out his name as you came so hard he was sure if he hadn’t pulled his thumb out your muscles would have broken the bones in it. Your knees gave way and you slumped down onto the bed, Henry still deep inside you, fucking you as you lay spent on the bed;

“So close… almost there…

“Cum on my ass Hen…” you muttered as he railed into you, and you heard a groan as he pulled out of you, seconds later the splash of his hot seed landing on your naked ass, back and thighs.

For a moment everything went quiet before you felt him wiping his cum from you, and he moved you in the bed until you were curled up in his arms, the little spoon to his big;

“You’re fucking amazing Princess, I fucking love you so much” he slurred, before the two of you feel asleep in drunken stupors.

Chapter 9 >>>

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill au

183 notes · View notes

cyhyr · 4 years ago

Text

Whumpmas In July: Hope

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: ~7040

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Hospitalization, Mental Health Issues, Dissociation, Therapy, Making Up, Communication, Heavy Conversations, Angst, Triggers, Recovery, Frottage, Rimming, Safewords

A/N: Remember how I'm garbage at interpreting prompts? The vibe of Hope is there. But it's not... explicitly stated? This is just a little bit of plot. And a lot of filth.

A/N2: Terminal lucidity is a thing for coma patients; but it's SUPER rare. I am, however, making the shit up about dissociation, if that's not how it works. I just wanna write a fun story where I put this guy through as much pain as possible; and I only ever give myself three days to write these stories and that does not leave time for research. I apologize in advance.

Follow-up to “Secret”

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read on The Archive

Kakashi has time built up. He hasn’t taken time for himself since Rin—oh, but anyway—and so he’s able to wait. And wait. He stays in the village, walking around during the day and hanging in one specific tree outside the hospital at night.

In the dim light of the early morning, Kakashi crouches outside the window of Iruka’s hospital room and watches over him as he sleeps. Once he brought Iruka back to the village, Tomi-sensei admitted him for inpatient care. She promised to oversee his care personally, and reported directly to Tsunade morning and night.

It’s been almost a week.

…

Kakashi watched Iruka stumble back from Mizuki, hands dripping blood into the floor. The kunai drops with an echoing thud to the floor—

Followed by Iruka, dropping hard to his knees.

Kakashi skidded in behind him and clutched him, back to his chest. The pack whined and yipped around him and he couldn’t care because Iruka was under again and there’s no reason for it.

“Love? Iruka, please, talk to me.”

“Boss—”

“No, Urushi,” he snapped. He turned Iruka in his lap, cradled him in the crook of one arm and braced him against his knee. “Iruka, please,” he begged, shaking him gently.

“Bull, Bisuke, Shiba—get the doc and bring her in here,” Pakkun barked.

Kakashi fell back on his heels and pulled Iruka into his lap, ever closer. “Iruka, tell me what you need, please.”

Iruka’s eyes were distant and unfocused, his breath coming in soft pants. He was limp in Kakashi’s arms, a soft weight on his thighs.

The door opened and a high-pitched gasp caught his attention. Kakashi turned to face Rikona as she stepped closer, three of the pack herding her along with bared teeth.

“What’s happening to him?” he growled.

Rikona crossed the cabin, knelt beside him, and hovered her fingertips over Iruka’s neck. “I…”

“Do your fucking job,” he hissed.

She checked his pulse, held fingers in front of his open mouth, and tipped his chin up to look in his eyes. She frowned. “Why is he bloody?”

“Look behind you.”

Rikona did, and choked on a scream.

Kakashi held back a smirk. She still hadn’t told him how this could have happened.

“Mi-Mizu—”

“We don’t care about the dead rapist,” Kakashi seethed. “What happened to Iruka? Why is he under???”

“Dissociation, especially in Iruka-sensei’s case, is a defensive response,” Rikona answers quickly. “The mind can’t handle current events, and as such it just. Turns off. Sometimes learned behaviors can be conditioned during these times, as they… seem to have been, with him. B-but mostly he’s just… overwhelmed.”

“So he’ll wake up in a little bit?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. He’s been slipping under too much lately, and having been forced under just tonight… I swear, Hatake-san, I didn’t know—”

“You think I give a fuck about your apologies right now???” Kakashi snapped. In his arms, Iruka flinched hard, and tears started welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Shit, Love, no, please, not you, not you,” he whispered quickly, rocking them both back and forth, petting Iruka’s hair and kissing his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. “Everything’s alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Bring him to Tomi-sensei,” Rikona said softly, gently; she didn’t seem to want to invoke a negative response in either of them. “She knows about his episodes, she can design a treatment program for him.”

“What, and leave you here?”

“I plan to turn myself in,” Rikona reiterated.

“Forgive me if I can’t trust you,” Kakashi gritted. “Pack, two to the Hokage to report the incident, the rest escort her to T&I.” He gathered Iruka into his arms, sliding his arm under his knees and pressing his way up to standing. Bull came behind him to brace him as he stood. “Thanks,” he muttered down at him once he was on his feet.

Pakkun shook his head. “Go. Get Iruka-Boss to the hospital. We’ll check in when we can.”

Kakashi flickered away through a smashed window. With Iruka tucked against him, he flew through the trees back to the village.

(He doesn’t remember crying.)

(He doubts he made it the whole way without shedding at least one tear.)

…

Tomi-sensei says he’s making progress. Tsunade tells him that she won’t let Iruka stay under forever; that she’ll find a way to bring him back.

Kakashi watches Iruka open his eyes, still glassy and unfocused. He leaves the tree once his nurse comes in to help Iruka get cleaned up and fed.

He’s so tired.

Rikona doesn’t get a trial. Once before them, she admits to everything before the Counsel and the Hokage.

It doesn’t stop Kakashi from catching up to the ANBU team escorting her to prison and asking for a few minutes alone with her.

And if she needs Otter to heal her arm from the multiple fractures she sustains after that meeting… and if Otter messes up their jutsu enough that the fractures don’t all heal correctly… and if Rikona never regains full range of motion for her arm…

Well. They can’t pin that on Kakashi.

The ANBU team never saw him.

And he was also seen sparring with Gai at the time.

He’s stepping over Bull to get to the living room, watering can in hand. When Iruka comes home, his plants will be perfect. The whole pack is lounging around the room; Iruka would love having his house so full.

He finishes watering one plant, and a knock comes at the front door. Kakashi glares down at all the ninken and says, “What, no warning?”

“It’s just a messenger,” Shiba groans.

Kakashi goes to the door and presses his palm to the wood to undo the seals. When he opens the door, a genin messenger stands on the porch.

He bows. “Hatake-san. Tomi-sensei has asked that you come to the hospital.”

Kakashi nods, projecting calm for the genin, and shuts the door.

The calm, of course, was a façade. “PACK, DISPERSE.” He throws his feet into his sandals and feels the pull on his chakra from the ninken release as they all leave. He slips his vest and hitai-ate on, resets the wards, and takes off out the kitchen window—the one that faces in the direction of the hospital.

He’s across the village and launching himself through the window beside the admission desk on the third floor mental health unit in minutes. Aiko-chan startles at his palms slamming down on her desk, but she smiles and points to the hallway leading to Tomi-sensei’s office. He passes the few people in the waiting room, not quite running anymore, not while he’s inside the hospital, and stops in front of Tomi-sensei’s door

He knocks.

“Come in.”

The door creaks softly as he pushes it open. He’s spent so much time in this office over the last week, discussing treatment options and hearing how much progress Iruka seems to be making. He doesn’t want to step foot in a hospital again after he gets Iruka home.

Tomi-sensei smiles when she catches his eye. He barely spares her a glance before he’s falling to his knees in front of one of the two other chairs on the other side of her desk, placing one hand on the arm of the chair and reaching the other up, hesitantly, to cup Iruka’s cheek.

“Hello, Love,” Iruka says, his voice soft and weak.

Kakashi’s voice is just as soft, and he desperately holds back the urge to cry. “You’re okay?”

Iruka shakes his head. “Definitely not. I… I killed him, Kakashi.”

“Rikona’s in prison.”

“And she tricked—!”

“Gods, I’m sorry,” Kakashi shoves his head into Iruka’s chest, the hospital scrubs too clean and smelling of bleach and it’s overriding Iruka’s own scent—the scent he’d lost, fuck—and that just can’t stand. He reaches one hand around Iruka’s back and slides it up and under the back of his shirt, to feel warm skin on his palm, and he leans up and nuzzles into Iruka’s neck and oh there he is.

Iruka

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Iruka says, guiding him closer with a hand on the back of his head. “This. It’s just another hurdle.”

“It’s a big fucking hurdle.”

Iruka shakes with silent, humming laughter. “Still. I’m here, Kakashi.”

“I—”

Tomi-sensei clears her throat softly, interrupting them. “Hatake-san, he’ll need to stay under surveillance for at least two more days, to be sure this resurfacing isn’t terminal lucidity.”

“Terminal…?” He pulls out of Iruka’s neck and looks at her. “What is that?”

“Similar to a coma patient,” Tomi starts. “There are cases wherein a coma patient wakes up, feels perfectly fine for a few hours or a day or two, and then dies anyway. In a similar fashion, we’re understandably concerned for Iruka-sensei’s mental state; that this might be like one final gasp before he dissociates permanently.”

Kakashi turns back to Iruka and leans in again. He slips his hitai-ate off, and presses his temple against Iruka’s chest to hear his heartbeat. Iruka holds his hitai-ate for him, and holds him, and the thought that he could lose this for good settles in his gut and—and—

One tear falls from each eye; his own, and Obito’s.

Kakashi stays just outside the hospital, in the same tree beside Iruka’s window, for two more days. Tomi-sensei lets him visit during the day, and he does and he keeps Iruka company; she says that physical contact could help Iruka remain present. He holds Iruka’s hands and presses kisses to whatever skin he’s allowed and helps him go through his sensory exercises every hour and a half. The kitchen sends up a second lunch and dinner for him so he can eat beside Iruka, and when Iruka eyes his gelatin he gladly gives it up in exchange for a kiss.

And then when visiting hours are over and Iruka has to go to sleep, Kakashi kisses him one last time and jumps out the window. He pretends, for Iruka’s sake, to go home; he really just hides up on the roof for an hour and then goes down to the tree and waits for morning.

If something were to happen…

But the two days of surveillance pass without a hitch and when he comes in on the third day, after having run home for a shower and clean blacks, Iruka is eating breakfast with a wide smile and a fresh uniform laid out on the chair beside his bed.

“Hello, Love,” Kakashi says, grinning back. “Good news?”

“Tsunade-sama just left,” Iruka says through a mouthful of rice. He swallows. “I still need a month of leave at least, but I’m cleared to move to outpatient care.” He motions to the uniform, “Shizune-san brought me a new uniform; the one you brought me in with was… um.”

“Unsalvageable.”

“Yes.”

“I would have burned it if they tried to give it back to you.”

Iruka chuckles. “You’re sweet.”

Kakashi shrugs. “You don’t need that kind of reminder soaked into your clothes.”

“Even if they’ve been cleaned?”

“Iruka. You would still know.”

He smiles into his lap. “That’s true. You understand me so well.”

“I love you,” Kakashi sighs. “Understanding comes with the territory.”

Iruka’s blush is gorgeous. “I love you, too.”

“Do you know your therapy schedule?”

“No. Tomi-sensei is scheduled to be here in—um—ten minutes. She’s gonna give me discharge papers and go over a therapy schedule then.”

“Want me to help you get dressed?”

“After I finish eating.”

Kakashi sets the paper bag of prescription bottles on the table in the genkan and offers his hand to Iruka to help him balance so he can toe out of his sandals. One of the side-effects of the medications he’s taking to help keep the dissociation at bay and his mood stable is vertigo.

(Iruka had asked if Kakashi could wait until the lunch hour, when everyone is busy with meals and meetings—and he blushed and stammered all the while he tried to get the words out but finally he muttered, “Could you just… carry me? I can’t—I don’t wanna trip the whole way home…”

“Always.”)

Vests, hitai-ate, wrappings, gloves, most weapons; all get set in their place in the genkan. And then he leads Iruka to the kitchen and sits him down at the table, holding out his arms on either side of Iruka’s shoulders for a moment. “Alright?”

Iruka hasn’t stopped grinning since they left the hospital. “I’m fine, Kakashi.”

He slowly lowers his arms. “Tea?”

“Something weak, please.” Iruka lays his head down on his arms, on the tabletop, and Kakashi feels his eyes tracking him across the kitchen as he moves about. Water in the kettle, kettle on the stove, tea tins out of the cabinet; cups, honey, a spoon; the diffuser of a puppy with its paws curved in such a way that when he puts it on the edge of the cup it’ll hang there while the tea steeps.

After quiet minutes pass and the kettle whistles, Kakashi puts a cup of herbal tea in front of him, the puppy diffuser facing Iruka. He slides the honey closer in case he wants some, but he specifically wants it weak. Iruka takes the diffuser out of the tea a minute later, as Kakashi is placing a plate of crackers on the table within easy reach.

“Not hungry,” Iruka says, cupping his fingers around the tea and inhaling the light floral scent.

“That’s the medication talking,” Kakashi points out. “You should eat. Even just two bites.”

Iruka takes a cracker and nibbles at it. He lifts his head enough to take a sip of tea.

“Love, I… I know I should wait.”

“Kakashi?”

“But I need to know,” Kakashi reaches across the table to link their fingers together. “When you were… dreaming.”

Iruka goes pale, and Kakashi knows.

“It wasn’t Sato, was it?”

His voice is small and reserved. “No. No it wasn’t.”

“And Tsunade-sama said you had received correspondence from Mizuki. Before I came home.”

“I did. Rikona-sensei made it look like it came from the prison, but it wasn’t.”

“But it was his words, and his handwriting.”

“Yes.”

“And you… you hid it from me. You lied to me.”

“I… yes. I did. Kakashi—”

“Why?” He’s trying so hard to keep his voice from going cold, but the anger is rising and Iruka needs to have a good reason, please, gods let him have a good reason.

Iruka puts his head back down on his arms. He looks so tired. He should have waited, but he needs to know. “Tomi-sensei said it’s a thing that… that the abused tend to do.”

Kakashi’s heart stops. Iruka’s never… never referred to Mizuki as abusive, never let Kakashi say it either. He waits for Iruka to continue, and continue he does.

“It’s an ingrained habit; a learned behavior. One that I never… I never unlearned,” Iruka sighs lightly. “The habit to protect him. To shrug off his behavior. To try and… and explain it away, even if only to myself.”

“You were protecting—”

“You’ve expressed a constant desire to kill him. In that exact moment, yes, all I could think about was how do I keep one lover from killing the previous one. That he used to… to—”

Iruka stumbles to his feet and trips over himself to the sink, braces his arms on the counter, and breathes harshly. “He-he… oh gods, I fucking let him do this to me and—”

“Iruka, deep breaths,” Kakashi comes up behind him and places his hand on Iruka’s belly. “Push my hand out, that’s it. Deeper, slower now. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the time for this conversation—”

“He raped me. He used to even wh-when Naruto was in the next room,” Iruka cries. “He threatened to hurt Naruto, and I gave him myself instead. I gave him everything! And he still. He still. Gods, Kakashi, I killed him. He’s gone. Why don’t I feel… I don’t know, lighter?”

“You still killed, Iruka,” Kakashi says. He keeps his tone low, soothing, pressing his chest along the length of Iruka’s back, stroking Iruka’s belly through his shirt. “You killed him, but you… you loved him, once. That. That’s going to hurt.”

It hurts to say it out loud. That Iruka had once loved that bastard. But, gods, it’s true, isn’t it.

“I wanted to protect him,” Iruka sniffles. “I never wanted you to… I didn’t think it would get this bad. I thought I just needed to sleep it off, that once I got some sleep, I could burn the note and everything would just. Be okay. And then the second letter came—”

“The one Rikona forged, the request.” Kakashi barely held back the growl.

Iruka nods. Kakashi can feel his stomach clench under his palm; he nudges Iruka just a little further over the sink. “And I just. I was slipping. So I went to see her, because it seemed like the thing to do. Because she was supposed to be part of my support system. Because you were already leaving again for another mission and I didn’t want to bother you—”

“You are never a bother, Love,” Kakashi kisses his cheek.

“I just wanted to know how he found me. I didn’t want him dead. I didn’t want to kill him,” Iruka cries harder, tears dripping into the sink. “Gods, Kakashi, I never wanted him dead. He betrayed the village, he hurt Naruto, he—he deserved to live with what he’d done.”

“I know,” Kakashi says; he doesn’t understand, but he knows that that’s Iruka’s position.

“But he leveled that kunai at you and I—I was so far under if it had been anyone else I probably wouldn’t have come back.” Iruka wipes at his face with the back of his hand, takes in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for lying. I was going to tell you. I just needed to sleep, first.”

“I would have investigated it for you.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to,” Iruka shakes his head. “I just wanted you to stay with me. I meant what I said in Rikona’s office. I need you as that steady, sturdy place I can fall when life goes to shit.”

“Still. Iruka, I just wanted to help.”

“You would have tried to kill him.”

Kakashi says nothing to that.

“I couldn’t… can’t. I don’t know—” Iruka shivers against him, and Kakashi hugs him close and rocks them back and forth gently. His hands come up and hold onto Kakashi’s arms, and Kakashi buries his face in Iruka’s neck. “I remember,” Iruka starts slowly, “when we were teenagers, my jōnin-sensei asked about the bruises on my neck, my wrists, m-my hips, once when we went to an onsen. And I remember telling her that my boyfriend and I just like it rough. And she was. She was so upset.”

“There were many people who were aware of what was happening,” Kakashi says slowly, “but we couldn’t do anything unless you spoke up, or we caught him in the act. And your apartment was always perfectly sealed.”

Iruka freezes. “You. You knew?”

“I was never on those squads,” Kakashi says, now leading Iruka by the hands to the living room, so they could sit back down. “I only heard about it from Sandaime, and from the ANBU locker room. The old man had squads watching over you on nights Mizuki would stay over.”

“How many… how many people know?”

“Iruka.”

“How many?”

“There were only ever the two squads, that I knew about,” Kakashi sighs, bringing Iruka to sit on the couch. “Of those, half are dead. Two are retired. The other two are still active. They were usually really good about only talking about it when they were alone, but I walked in on their conversations a few times. I’m sure others did, too.”

Iruka leans his head in his palms, his elbows on his knees.

Kakashi rubs his back. “Love, I had an idea of what I was getting into. And I decided that you were worth it anyway.”

Iruka makes a soft, keening sound. “Sap.”

“I keep choosing you, every day, after every trial we go through. And I fully intend to keep choosing you for a long time.”

“Oh gods, Kakashi, you can’t just say that.”

“I forgive you for lying,” Kakashi says, shifting closer and nuzzling Iruka’s hair. “Just don’t ever keep stuff like that from me again, please.”

Iruka leans into him, removing his hands from his face. He looks up at Kakashi and those eyes are glistening with tears still unshed and it hurts Kakashi’s heart to see him cry, so he carefully brushes the tears back and strokes his fingers down the side of Iruka’s face. And… it’s been long enough, hasn’t it?

“Gods, Iruka,” Kakashi murmurs, “You…”

He smiles softly and the room warms and Kakashi’s breath hitches.

“Me?” Iruka asks.

Kakashi pulls Iruka up to lay on his chest, holding him close. He pushes Iruka’s bangs back—they’d fallen out of the low tie at the back of his neck. It’s been two months, and he knows that he could fuck this up if he’s not really ready for this, but gorgeous and striking and handsome just don’t cut it and he needs—he needs—

“You’re so beautiful,” Kakashi whispers.

And his heart picks up, but Iruka stays in front of him and even grips him tighter.

Part of the therapy schedule includes a couple’s therapy session and Kakashi hates it, but for Iruka he goes. And once he’s there he just… zones out.

He watches the window; the trees waving in the wind outside. He holds Iruka’s hand and lets him talk and field all the questions and when their hour is up he stands and follows Iruka out. Iruka doesn’t seem upset at his lack of desire to participate, just… resigned.

It happens twice.

The third time, Kakashi tries. He pays attention.

The therapist—Osamu-sensei—asks if they’ve decorated the upstairs, what is to be Naruto’s room when he returns from training with Jiraiya. Iruka looks embarrassed for a moment, like he doesn’t want to answer.

“We’re waiting for Naruto to come home,” Kakashi says, “so he can pick out his own furnishings.”

It startles both Iruka and Osamu-sensei, but the therapist brightens up immediately. “You think of Iruka-sensei’s house as home, too, then?”

“I… well, I think of Iruka as home,” Kakashi admits. This is therapy. If he can’t admit it here, then where?

Iruka blushes a deep red, so very fetching with his eyes.

“And, Iruka-sensei, your response?”

“That’s. Um. Honestly, I just hadn’t had the time. It’s only been about a month since I moved and we’ve not heard from Naruto in… a while. So. I figure we have time.”

Osamu-sensei nods. “Looking at the future, then. Both of you.” He makes a scribble. “I’m very happy you’ve joined the conversation, Kakashi-san.”

“Maa… it’s to help Iruka, so,” he shrugs, and he hopes it comes off as nonchalant.

“Even if that’s your motivation, we’re glad to have you.”

The session goes by faster after that.

And Iruka’s happier when they get home, so much happier. Three weeks on the medication and he’s adjusted to most of the side-effects, even if the full effect of the mood stabilizers won’t occur for another two or three weeks. They get inside and strip off vests, wrappings, hitai-ate, sandals—and once they’re down to their uniform blacks Iruka takes his hands and leads him to the bedroom.

“Can I—?”

“Are you ready for this?” Kakashi interrupts him, stopping them just in the doorway.

Iruka presses his palms to Kakashi’s chest and grins. “Are you going to let a dead man stop me from stripping for you?”

Kakashi groans. “I’m trying to be a good person. I’m trying. So hard. To be what you need to recover.”

Iruka backs up into the bedroom, pulling his shirt up and over his head. He throws the shirt at Kakashi's face and says, “Yes, I know. So, so hard.”

Kakashi catches the shirt and pulls it away, to watch as Iruka continues by unbuttoning his trousers and slowly lowering the zip. His mouth goes dry.

“Kakashi, I want you,” Iruka says, shimmying out of his trousers, kicking them aside, and then he’s standing in front of the bed—their bed, in all but name, gods—in his boxers and sticking his thumbs in the elastic and pulling down, down, down…

“Iruka. Please. Please don’t tease—”

“Who said I’m teasing? Don’t you want me, too?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Then why are you still in the doorway?”

He’s not, not for long. He tears his own shirt off over his head as he stalks forward, tossing it carelessly aside and then reaching for Iruka, Iruka, bare and bronze and warm, and skimming his fingertips over chest, waist, arms, abs—

“Kakashi, please,” Iruka whimpers, his own arms coming up and encircling his neck.

“Ask. Whatever you want, Love, it’s yours,” he murmurs.

“Kiss me.”

He does, oh he does. Kakashi catches Iruka’s lips in his teeth and moves their mouths together gently to find a rhythm of kisses and licking and breathing, designed to overwhelm Iruka with sensation and keep him here. The most precious sounds escape his throat, soft moans and sighs as he trails his hands over Kakashi’s shoulders and down his chest. Kakashi reaches down with both hands and cups Iruka’s ass, groaning deep in his chest as he squeezes each cheek.

“Hold on,” he mutters against Iruka’s lips. His arms tighten around his neck, and then Kakashi lifts Iruka, his weight full in his hands and the plush warmth of his ass spilling from between his fingers. Iruka swings his legs around Kakashi’s waist and Kakashi groans into their kiss to feel the flex and stretch of muscle under his palms. He steps closer to the bed, turns, and sits down with Iruka on his lap.

They’re both hard. He needs to remove layers. Shit, he should have taken his trousers off first.

Iruka’s still kissing him, fingers in his hair and teeth biting at his mouth; his hips, at the same time, are rocking slowly across his thighs and he’s driving Kakashi crazy. He shifts back along the bedspread, keeping Iruka attached to him at the hips. And then Iruka puts a hand in the center of his chest and gently pushes, and Kakashi falls first to his elbows, and then all the way to his back.

He grabs Iruka’s hips, flexes his own, and shifts them fully onto the bed. Iruka groans at the movement, bracing his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders. He looms over Kakashi, and smiles down at him.

It’s perfect.

Iruka grinds back against Kakashi’s cock and it’s heaven and hell at the same time. “Love you,” Kakashi rambles breathlessly. “Fucking sexy, riding me like this, gods Iruka you look perfect—love you, love you, love you.”

“Kakashi—oh—”

He bites his lip and tosses his head back, frotting faster and harder and Kakashi gets his hands back on where they belong, pulls him closer and tighter and relishes the loud moan he receives.

“Gods among us, Iruka, your ass—”

He plants his feet and grinds, holding Iruka against him all the while. The pressure, the friction, the heat; it’s maddening. He’s panting, desperate for a good breath and unable to take one.

“K’shi, I—ahh, yes, fuck—wanna… want, oh-oh—”

“Whatever you want. Take it. It’s yours.”

Iruka leans down and kisses him again, slowing their hips to a more gentle frot and tweaking one of his nipples. Kakashi groans and lets himself be devoured, panting into Iruka’s mouth while their tongues slip and slide together. Iruka’s kisses slow to a simmer, both of them gasping and touching and still slowly grinding.

Iruka licks their lips; laughs lightly; and says, “I want. I wanna ask for something. A-and it just—I don’t like asking because it always feels like a bad idea at the time, like if I want it, there’s no way you also could want it… y’know?”

“Iruka. Love. Please ask. The last time you had one of these so-called ‘bad ideas’ it turned into one of my favorite things you do for me.”

It helps immensely that Iruka also enjoys warming Kakashi’s cock.

Iruka flushes dark and holds himself up on his palms, braced on the pillow to either side of Kakashi’s ears. His boxers have a damp spot, one that Kakashi can feel against his belly as Iruka continues to slowly rock his hips back and forth over Kakashi’s own erection.

“Okay. Um.” Iruka’s eyes shut tight, and Kakashi grins. Whatever he’s going to ask, he’s sure to enjoy it. “Well, so I was. Thinking. About things I never did with… anyway. And during a break from him, there was this one guy—”

“Love?”

“Gods, okay. Um.” He takes a deep breath and spits it out at once: “Haveyouevereatenass??”

Kakashi blinks.

Stares.

His heart skips. Multiple times.

“Kakashi?” Iruka’s voice is small. He looks away—no, wait, come back—“I didn’t think it would—”

“You would. I… could?” Kakashi takes in a loud breath and lets it go shakily. “Oh gods. Yes. Now? Can we do that now? Please. Please, fuck, sit on my face; if I die, I die smothered by the best ass ever. Let me; oh shit, Iruka—”

He laughs nervously. “Kakashi, okay, just. Let me go take a shower first, yeah?”

Kakashi groans. “Nooo,” he squeezes Iruka’s ass—the same ass he’s going to fucking devour oh fuck—“Now.”

“You whine worse than my pre-genin.” Iruka lifts himself off of Kakashi, stands next to the bed and stretches; his boxers fall just a little lower and Kakashi’s eyes focus on the trail of hair from his navel disappearing under the elastic. His mouth is horribly dry. Iruka grins down at him. “Would you like to come in the shower with me?”

Kakashi shakes his head. “I can’t. You. Wet. Fingering yourself. Nope. Can’t do it.”

Iruka laughs outright and leans back over and kisses him softly. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

I’ll be here. Kakashi picks his head up just enough to watch Iruka go, biting his lip at the subtle sway of his hips; he knows what he’s doing, that minx.

Iruka leans against the wall beside the bedroom door, a towel around his waist and his hair damp and loose around his shoulders. He is trying desperately to pull himself together. He knew going into this that Kakashi was either going to be grossed out or ecstatic. Himself? He’s excited, but just as he had been the first time they tried something… new, he is worried.

Triggers could happen regardless.

He heaves deep breaths, his shoulders moving with the force of them.

Three. Two. One.

He turns and goes inside. The door creaks softly under his palm and his eyes widen at the sight of Kakashi, spread out on his bed, idly stroking his cock with a loose fist. Both eyes are closed and his head is turned to the side, showing off the elegant curve of his neck. He’s flushed to his chest, panting lightly; his other hand is busy with his nipple, tweaking and pinching it to an inflamed pink.

“Oh, Kakashi,” Iruka groans. “How long. What. Fuck.”

“Very… hmm, articulate, Love.”

Iruka huffs a laugh, and crosses the room to stand beside the bed. Kakashi doesn’t stop touching himself; but he does open his eye.

“You. You look gorgeous,” Iruka says, skimming his fingertips along Kakashi’s abdomen, dipping a fingertip in his navel.

“And you need to sit on my face.”

Iruka feels his face heat up fast. “I-I never said I would do that.”

“Let me die a happy man, please.”

“Kakashi.”

He laughs, stops fondling himself, and rolls up to sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching out for Iruka, he pulls him closer with gentle tugs on his towel, and then buries his face in Iruka’s chest, kissing and licking every bit of skin he can reach without shifting his head too much. He wraps his arms around Iruka’s waist and holds him close, and Iruka moans at the attention and cards his fingers through Kakashi’s hair.

“Want you. Want to taste you. Want you writhing on my tongue,” Kakashi murmurs into his chest, still kissing and nipping him. He latches onto a nipple for a second; Iruka cries out softly, presses his chest further into Kakashi’s mouth. “Please. Please. Want to make you … shit. Fuck. Iruka. I need—”

“S-say it.”

Kakashi looks up at him, awe clear in his face. Iruka strokes the back of his fingers down Kakashi’s cheek. “It’s. I’m okay.” Deep breath. “Make me feel good, Love.”

He couldn’t have anticipated the deep groan, one that sounded almost painful; nor does he expect to be flipped around and bent over the bed with the soft thud of Kakashi’s knees hitting the floor behind him. Strong hands tug at his towel and then he’s naked, ass-out in front of his partner, and that same painful groan comes from behind him.

Kakashi presses one hand on the small of his back, and with the other starts petting the globe of his ass. “One tap means yes,” Kakashi mutters.

Oh.

He can feel his breath on—

Ohhh…

“T-two for no. Please, Kakashi.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“Wh-what?”

“Say the word, show me you can say it if you need to, please,” Kakashi says quickly.

Iruka buries his face in his arms, groaning. He whispers the word, “Stop,” and waits for Kakashi’s next insane request.

“Thank the gods. Can I. Please. Oh. Now, now, I want—”

“Kakashi, stop talking a—Ahhh!!!”

The first touch of Kakashi’s soft, wet tongue to his hole collapses Iruka fully onto the bed. He spreads his legs slightly and arches his back. Kakashi’s hand slips to the other side of his ass, groping and petting down to his thigh and back up again. Iruka writhes, his cock trapped between his stomach and the sheets and the friction is nice but Kakashi licking him in broad, slow strokes is maddening. He pants into the cradle of his arms as Kakashi begins delicately thumbing at his hole in opposition with his tongue—lick, press, lick, press—and then the very tip of his tongue slides into him and the sound that escapes Iruka is unhinged.

“More. More, please!”

Kakashi takes his hips in hand and noses his way in-between Iruka’s cheeks, mouthing and slurping away. His chin is already on its way to being soaked with spit, but then so is Iruka’s ass and, well, if he didn’t like it he’d say so.

His breath is coming fast, his pulse beating faster. He can feel it throbbing in his neck, the need for air, to slow down and relax, but oh Iruka’s making such wonderful noises and grinding back against his face. It’s glorious. What’s better is when he writhes away from Kakashi—he can infer from that motion alone that Iruka’s hard and likely aching.

Not unlike himself. But this isn’t about him.

This is about Iruka.

This is about Kakashi getting to suffocate himself in the Best Ass In Konoha, and yeah, he’s getting lightheaded from being down for so long but he’s messily kissing Iruka’s hole and slowly easing his way to getting his tongue inside and who gives a fuck about silly things like breathing when he has ass to eat?

“Oh gods, oh fuck, yes—Ahh—so g-good, Kakashi—!”

His eye rolls back, fuck, Iruka doesn’t get vocal in bed. Ever. But this—if this is what gets him going, Kakashi will eat him out every fucking day for the rest of their lives. He’s even using that damn trigger word; stuttering on it but still.

He deserves a reward.

Kakashi spreads Iruka’s ass, takes just a half second to catch his breath, and then dives back in. This time, he’s merciless with his tongue, licking fast and not caring how loud they’re getting. They have a house now; who cares about noise complaints. And when Iruka’s writhing shifts his legs just that little bit wider, Kakashi hums against his hole and shoves his tongue into Iruka as far as he can.

“Kakashi!”

He thumbs at his rim with both hands, stretching his hole while he licks him inside. So good, so good, Iruka, fucking perfect—

“I—I need. Kakashi. Please. Just. A minute. Please.”

He pulls back, frowning. “I’m sorry. Too much?”

Iruka’s panting like he just sprinted from fucking Suna. “No. Gods, no. It’s. You’re doing. It’s amazing. I just,” he chuckles, a hint of self-deprecation in the tone. “M-my knees are gonna give out, if you keep that up.”

Kakashi gently pushes on his thighs. “Then get on the bed. Chest down, ass up. Believe me, I don’t want to be done with you yet.”

Iruka’s face is flushed, down his neck and up to his ears. It’s such a sweet image. But he climbs up anyway, hugging a pillow to his chest and arching his back—

If Iruka can say his trigger word during sex. Kakashi… he can do it too.

He palms Iruka’s ass, shiny with spit and rim puffy pink where he’s been laving attention. The sensual curve of his back, his hair tossed over one shoulder so Kakashi can see the side of his face and neck, the sturdy muscular thighs supporting each perfectly perk check; Iruka’s still moaning, whimpering, waiting for him to continue.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Kakashi says reverently, and dips his head once again.

This time, he lets his hands explore—he smooths up Iruka’s sides, skipping over each rib; he lightly taps at Iruka’s chest enough that he picks himself up to his elbows, the perfect amount of room for Kakashi to slip his fingers underneath him to tweak and pinch at his nipples; one hand stays, the other comes back down Iruka’s spine, lovingly touching each vertebrae and hovering protectively over the fūma shuriken scar for a moment before moving on. He slips his thumb back beside his tongue, holding Iruka open so he can better love on his hole.

All the while, Iruka’s hips are grinding against his face, rocking back onto Kakashi’s tongue, and he’s blessed to have such a responsive partner but the movement makes eating his ass so, so hard.

So with both hands he grabs Iruka’s hips and holds him tight and murmurs into his hole, “Stay still, so I can pleasure you.”

And Iruka.

Iruka whines.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please keep talking.”

Kakashi, given the requests both to feast on the Best Ass In Konoha and to run his mouth during sex, obliges the best he can.

“Love you, love your ass, oh gods,” he stops to lick broad strokes again, panting and aching. “Want. Wanted to. Oh, Iruka. Wanted to make you feel good since the first time we—” He hums deep in his throat, mouth sealed against Iruka’s hole and tongue flicking. “First. Time we fell into bed together. And now.” Lick, press, lick, press, lick, press; his thumb slides in easily to the first knuckle and it’s warm and wet and Iruka.

“Kakashi I’m. I’m. Oh, keep going. Please. Keep talking.”

“Now you’re letting me. Fuck.” His tongue rejoins his thumb. He pants against Iruka’s hole, watching it clench and pucker and—“Gods, Iruka, I get to touch you; you have no idea how lucky I am.”

“I—more. Little more. Please. Just. Oh-oh-ohh.”

Kakashi blows cool air over Iruka’s ass, and then seals his mouth and tongues Iruka relentlessly. The noises coming from the pillows are unholy and filthy and just drives Kakashi to tongue him harder.

“Kakashi!!!”

He feels Iruka tighten, a vice on his tongue, and he holds Iruka still though his hips want so clearly to thrust and grind down into the sheets. He hears soft splashes outside of his headspace, and Iruka’s cries of Ohh and K’shi and fuck yes. Kakashi keeps flicking his tongue and mouthing at Iruka’s hole until he hears a deep, blissful sigh, and then he pulls back and rests his forehead on the swell of Iruka’s ass.

“You.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I made you—?”

“Yes.”

“Please,” he says, instantly grabbing his long-neglected cock and pumping fast and hard. “Please, I. I wanna come on you. I did good, right? Please. Let me. Oh gods. Iruka. Want to—fuck. Please-please-please—”

“Yeah?” Iruka asks, and he drawls, almost sleepily, but he’s looking back over his shoulder and smiling and he arches his back ever so slightly. “You wanna come on my ass, My Love?”

“Please.”

“Get me even wetter? I’ll need another shower after you’re done covering my ass with your come.”

“Iruka, please!”

“I love you, my Kakashi.”

He can’t. He can’t hold back anymore. With one trembling hand he spreads Iruka’s cheeks again and with the other he jerks himself furiously. A split-second decision has him opening his sharingan to watch as he comes in harsh spurts right on Iruka’s pretty pink hole.

Best ass in Konoha? Painted with his come? He could die a happy man just from this image. Even if Iruka won’t sit on his face. And with the sharingan, the image will always be with him.

He collapses next to Iruka, closes both eyes, and pulls his lover to his chest. They’ll need to get cleaned up. They’ll need to change the sheets.

Right now, Iruka tucks himself against Kakashi, their foreheads together; Iruka looks like he desperately wants to kiss him, but remembers where his mouth had been at the last second. He kisses Kakashi’s cheek and jaw instead. They both laugh.

“I love you,” Kakashi says.

Iruka’s laugh turns into a giggle. “And my ass?”

“I would love you even if you didn’t have such a fantastic ass,” Kakashi hums. “Thankfully, however, that is not our reality.”

“That was…”

“Yeah?”

Iruka sighs happily. “Wow.”

Kakashi kisses his forehead. “Blissed you out, huh?”

“Shhh,” Iruka clutches him closer. “Afterglow.”

Kakashi holds him tighter and catches his breath.

#whumpmasinjuly #Hope #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu #my writing #writeblr

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black-streak · 5 years ago

Text

Little Pistol - Millstone

Chapter 4

First Previous Next

This feels almost like I'm starting a new story and in a way I am. Tim's story. His side of this world in creating. That being said, for those who only got into DC and Batman and the Robins through the Maribat fandom, this actually gives a lot of background on Tim that isn't normally covered from what I've seen. Or at least, not in depth. Sure, I'm giving my own perspective on how canon events could of turned out, but all the way up to Damian taking up Robin is technically canon compliant.

That being said, here we go. (Song is Millstone by Brand New. All songs are featured on my Timinette Angst Playlist)

LP Taglist

@zalladane @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @elmokingkong @queen-in-a-flower-crown @karategirl119 @dreamykitty25 @danielslilangel @melicmusicmagic @xahriia @sassakitty @yin-390 @zotinha456 @indecisive-mess-named-me @heldtogetherbysafetypins @theatreandcomicfreak @alexandriamw @messymessyml

Permanent list

@naoryllis @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @my-name-is-michell @maribat-is-lifeblood @dast218 @novicevoice @shizukiryuu @princess-of-fangirls @bigpicklebananatree @pirats-pizzacanninibles @abrx2002 @breemeister @darkthunder1589 @thestressmademedoit @severelyenchantedwonderland @isabellemasen @multi-fandom-freak0221 @fantasyloversblog @bzz75 @cloudiedraws @jardimazul @orbitsvt @gingerdaile @sotheresthatthought @kadmeread @novaloptr @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @crazylittlemunchkin @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tiny-goddess-of-chaos @ladybug-182 @toodaloo-kangaroo @the-alice-of-hearts @vixen-uchiha

~---~

Traveling downhill seemed so much easier than trekking up. In truth, it all depended on how you went. Slowly making your way on foot could end in braced, straining joints and burning calves from the effort of keeping balanced on steeper angles and rougher terrain. You could bike down faster, but you might miss everything that happens along the way or hit an edge and end up crashing to never see it through one way or another. Taken out of the race too soon. Running proved dangerous and much the same as a bike. One could always roll down the slope, but that leads to veering off course and coming up dizzy and disoriented. Falling was easy, but there was no control on how you went or how fast and many end up injured or lost by the time they hit the bottom.

Tim decided to mark his own path. He hadn't necessarily meant to find the bottom, it sort of found him to be honest, but nevertheless, he chose to make his way slowly down from the start. Twisting and winding carefully, every step deliberate and calculated until he stood where he is now, living in the brownstone with Jason Todd of all people. His would be murderer.

Funny how that worked.

It started early on, far sooner than most would guess, with his blackmailing his way into the mantle of Robin. Sure, it was ultimately Bruce's decision, but what else does one do with a kid with photographic evidence of your identity who saved your skin and insists on helping any way he can? Train him, send him around the world, and hone his skills under the nose of his parents, apparently.

Then his mother died and his father went into a coma. Bruce feared he'd fall to anger and vengeance, bringing up Jason as a reminder of what not to do.

It was interesting, the amount of times Jason was brought up as a form of warning. As a guidance for what not to be. It came to a point where he resented hearing the name, equated it to disappointment and idiocy. To brashness and brute strength. To death. His opinion of Jason was similar to that of a dumpster fire. Contained and expected, but needing to be put out before it could do any real damage to something actually important.

That was in part due to being a child who'd grown up watching Dick fly in the Robin colors and seeing how his successor performed afterwards. In some ways, the magic of the Robin suit transferred with its new owner, still amazing Tim with its ability to make Gotham a little brighter, a little safer. But the disconnect between Robin and Jason was too strong for him to see them as the same person. He still thought of Dick as Robin, despite knowing he wasn't in that suit. Then Jason died and soon after he began his training, not really out of desire to BE Robin, but more for knowing someone had to do it.

Then Bruce and in parts, Dick himself, kept reinforcing the story of Jason as something bad. As something to be avoided and better than. Jason was no longer a person at all in his mind. More of an urban legend told in bedtime stories to scare children into being good. It only furthered the disconnect he felt between looking at the case with the old Robin suit and hearing the name Jason Todd.

It was a while afterwards that his next step down occured, with his return to no man's land, his rescue and finally, his father barring him from Robin and Stephanie taking up the title. He didn't mean to feel resentful, but it happened nonetheless. He fought so hard to be good enough, to hold the Robin title and be worthy of it only to have it ripped away by Jack Drake's form of blackmail. Oh, the irony of it being the same as his own from long before.

It took manipulation and carefully working from the other side, but soon he convinced his father of his need to be Robin. Of how Gotham needed him. And Jack let him. Too bad it led to him being killed.

He faked an uncle to avoid being completely under Bruce's thumb. Wanted a say in his own life and felt adoption wouldn't be the way to go about it. Didn't want to replace his dead dad so soon after losing him.

Things went faster after that. Stephanie died. Then Kon. He switched his colors in remembrance of his fallen friend. Became a little darker. Colder. Distant. Bart died. He fell further. Stephanie was alive. She let him think she was dead. Batman knew and felt no need to tell him. She lied to him. Bruce lied to him. Everyone he loved left him one way or another. Jason tried to kill him. More than once.

Surprisingly, almost dying at his hands was what began to help Tim see Jason as he truly was. A human being. He opened up the files on Jason and began his own research, no longer taking his mentors for their word. If Jason was alive, he needed to know who exactly he was up against. And he did, now. He knew who Jason was. A guy who'd been just a kid, taken off the streets and thrown into the nightlife of Gotham. A kid who loved his mother and did what he could to keep her alive. Who did what he needed to keep himself alive. Who loved school and maintained perfect grades and read classic literature. Jason Todd wasn't some punk who died because he was a brash idiot who got in over his head. No, he was just a boy who found out his birth mom was alive and went looking for her. Who died trying to protect the woman who birthed him, despite being the one who betrayed him. The Robin costume wasn't magical. Wasn't it's own living thing. The mantel was only as strong as the one who wore it and Jason had worn it well.

Funny how the resurrected version saw who filled the suit now and decided to try and kill him. Guess he couldn't really fault him for it, though. Talia threw Jason in the pits and practically siked him on Tim. If only she had kept Damian to herself.

Tim took the child's attempt on his life to heart, despite the pardon to Jason for much the same. See the difference there was that Bruce didn't treat the two attempts the same. Both tried to kill Tim. But while Jason was condemned and seen as the enemy for it, Damian was barely punished. Sure, Bruce expressed anger and disappointment, but all and all, that was it. Quite frankly, Tim thought Jason was more justified and yet, he received the harsher treatment.

The injustice and unfair treatment of the Robins was never more clear than in that moment.

The true fall of Tim, however, was after Bruce died, leaving the others as orphans to battle over the cowl.

He never wanted to hold the title of Batman, but Dick was so reluctant and then Jason started posing as Batman, so Tim took him up. Just to put an end to it. To make the madness stop for just a second.

And finally, finally, Dick took his rightful place. After the loss of his father and adopted father and so many friends and teammates, Tim was ready for a semblance of normal. He'd worked under Dick before and it'd gone so well, he knew this is what they needed. What the city needed. Something was finally going to be okay.

But then it really wasn't. Dick gave his position to Damian. To the kid who killed, who tried to kill him. To an ungrateful, insubordinate, murderous child who held no morals or standard for anything that wasn't an animal. Dick took the only thing Tim had left and gave it away to the person who hated him most.

Well.

It should have come as no surprise that when Jason showed up, offering him refuge, a place to belong, a place at his side. He took it.

He took it on his own terms.

Taking up the mask, not behind Jason, but at his side, as his partner, Tim took over the Brownstone building and created his perch. His and Red Hood's basis of operation. Dick thought Gotham needed a cruel, brutal, ruthless Robin? Fine. He'd give it one.

Sipping on his mug of hot chocolate and looking out into the night, he couldn't help the twinge of a frown that creeped onto his face. The downhill descent was a difficult one, yeah, but one way or another, he found his way to the bottom.

#maribat #ml x dc #timinette #Dark!timinette #timari

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metaphorical-love-for-a-car · 5 years ago

Text

Sleep Is For The Weak-- Malcolm Bright x Reader

Prompts; “If you’re staring at me like that, I can only assume I did something unintentionally embarrassing.” // “Why do I watch scary things late at night? I’ve doomed myself doing this.” (from the lovely @witterprompts)

Warnings; tiniest bit of swearing, but that’s about it

Word Count; 1.6k

Malcolm sat on his couch with a warm mug of tea in his hands. His eyes quickly bounced back and forth between the papers and pictures scattered across his coffee table. The recent case had been confusing. Many twists and turns made it difficult for him to pin an exact identification on the murderer, unlike what he had done with many in the past. This criminal, however, didn’t match any of his usual profiles. Each murder was different. There were no connections. It was driving him insane.

The detective practically leapt at his phone when it buzzed, desperately hoping it was a member of the team informing him with a new piece of the increasingly difficult puzzle they were all trying to solve. His brows furrowed when he read your name on the screen.

(Y/N) 3:15AM: sup bitch

Malcolm rolled his eyes and tossed his phone back to the opposite end of the couch. He was rereading the case file for the millionth time when his phone buzzed again.

(Y/N) 3:18AM: I know you’re awake, and it’s rude to ignore people ya know

He sighed, turning his phone on silent. Malcolm pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear his mind. You had known Malcolm since childhood, and you were with him through thick and thin. But he had guidelines on personal relationships, not allowing himself to get close to anyone. You understood. The man had been through hell and back, and you usually gave him the space he needed. You were used to not hearing from him for weeks on end, especially when he was working on a case. Tonight, though? That’s a different story.

Malcolm tensed when he heard another tink! come from the opposite end of his apartment. The noise had relentlessly interrupted his train of thought for the past ten minutes, and he was growing tired of it. He pushed himself away from the couch, carefully listening for the source of the sound. Malcolm frowned as he crept his way into his bedroom. The sound was caused by something repetitively hitting the large window. His brows knitted together.

Were those... coins? He stepped closer to the glass, peering down to the sidewalk below. Your face lit up when you realized that your plan had worked. Waving your arms around, you could practically feel the daggers Malcolm was glaring at you with. He disappeared from the window, and you scurried over to the door.

You wasted no time when he snatched the door open, bounding up the stairs and into his apartment. “Are you out of your mind? How long have you been standing out there?” Malcolm called after you. After trudging up the stairs and making sure the door was locked, he found you already rummaging through his pantry. You froze like a deer in headlights and flashed him a sheepish smile. “Bottom cabinet to the left of the stove,” he answered your unspoken question.

“Ah! So, you did some reorganizing?” you teased. Pulling open the cabinet, you couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart when you realized that he had dedicated a little place for all of the snacks you had left with him. You grabbed the box of hot chocolate mix and set to work. “To answer your questions... Yes, and I think about thirty minutes? Don’t know, my phone died after about fifteen minutes of trying to get you to answer. Then I just stood there for a while. I think people assumed I was homeless or something because they started giving me loose change, which I used to get your attention.” Malcolm raised a brow. He was obviously biting back a wise-ass comment. “Go ahead, let me have it,” you sighed. A light laugh escaped his lips as he shook his head. Malcolm crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“No, it’s nothing... I was just going to point out that it’s a likely assumption, considering you’re in your pajamas and look like you were attacked by a flock of pigeons-- again-- though, without the feathers.” You gasped, punching his shoulder.

“Those things are little demons, and you know it!” His head tilted back with laughter, and your annoyance disappeared at the sight. Malcom caught your gaze. You quickly looked away, returning your attention to the hot chocolate. He hummed, and a playful grin crossed his features.

“If you’re staring at me like that, I can only assume I did something unintentionally embarrassing.” You scoffed. Pushing a mug of hot chocolate into his hands, you took a sip of your own.

“No, it’s just...” You paused, shaking your head. “It makes me happy when you’re happy.” Awkward tension filled the room as you avoided his gaze. Malcolm bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of how to respond. He sucked in a breath and took a few steps toward the living room, motioning you to follow.

“So, tell me, what are you doing out this late?” Your shoulders relaxed at the subject change. You plopped on the couch, snickering as he shot you a warning glare. You knew very well how expensive everything in his apartment was, and you would never do anything to mess something up... but you liked to tread along the thin ice just to elicit a reaction out of him. ‘I really should be more careful. I don’t think he’s noticed the wine stain on the corner of his Neiman Marcus blanket. I mean, it’s not that bad. Just a small little splotch..” You blinked rapidly, dismissing the thoughts. Malcolm raised a brow but didn’t mention it. You took another sip of your hot chocolate.

“I had a Freddy Krueger marathon. Watched all eight movies. I mean, why do I watch scary things late at night? I’ve doomed myself doing this,” you groaned, rubbing your face. “Won’t be able to sleep for a week.” Malcolm snorted.

“If I remember correctly, you always claimed that ‘sleep is for the weak.’”

“And I am very, very weak,” you muttered, loudly sipping your drink to aggravate Malcolm. He rolled his eyes at your antics. You asked how the case was coming along, occasionally nodding as Malcolm ranted about it. You scooted toward the edge of the couch and peered at the photographs. You grimaced at the gore before knitting your brows together. You were beyond confused. They seemed... oddly familiar. A few moments passed before you started laughing. You gave Malcolm an incredulous look. “Ok, seriously, how did you know?” It was his turn to look confused. You rolled your eyes. “How did you know that I had watched Nightmare on Elm Street before I came over here?” When he didn’t reply, you leaned back into the couch with a groan. “Come on, Malcolm! I caught your prank. Admit it already. These pictures aren’t from your case, they’re from the movie.” Malcolm’s face paled as a dozen emotions flashed across his features. He grabbed your wrist, urgency running rampant in his wide eyes.

“Tell me what you mean. Now.” Your jaw slacked, but you quickly nodded and set your hot chocolate aside. The playful atmosphere quickly gave way to dread. You had him arrange them in order of who had been killed first. Your stomach sank as he rearranged them, not wanting your silly theory to turn into reality. When he gave you a nod, you cleared your throat and pointed at each one as you spoke.

“Everyone highly resembles the characters from the movie. She looks Tina, who was killed by Freddy slashing her with his knife-glove-thing. He looks like Rod, who was hung by Freddy. He looks like Glen. Glen got killed because Freddy flung him up in a fountain of blood? I don’t know. It was weird.” You paused, brows knitting together. You had Malcolm unlock his phone since yours was dead, and you began Googling a picture. “This was the last victim of the movie, Marge Thompson. She got smothered after Freddy was set on fire.” Malcolm snatched his phone from you, jumping to his feet. He paced through the living room. Everything was falling into place, and he was finally able to set a profile. He suddenly stopped pacing and laughed. It wasn’t out of humor, but out of victory. Malcolm looked to you with a bright smile, pulling you up from the couch.

“You’re a genius!” He pulled you into a hug, and you couldn’t help the laugh that was bubbling in your chest. You were about to make a quip about him saying you were out of your mind earlier that night but got interrupted before you had the chance. Malcolm had broken the embrace, only to press his lips to yours. You hardly registered it was happening before you melted into his touch. He pulled away and held his breath, eyes searching your face. You smiled and cupped his cheek.

“As much as I’d love for this moment to last longer, I think you should probably call Gil before somebody gets fired-- literally.” Malcolm’s eyes widened as he nodded. He grabbed his phone on his way towards the door. He paused, standing in the doorway.

“Will you be here when I get back?” A smirk quirked the corner of your lips.

“Where else am I gonna go? My phone’s dead, so I can’t exactly call an Uber.” Malcolm snorted, shaking his head. He glanced at you from over his shoulder. Your gaze softened. You had known Malcolm long enough to read his expressions. He wasn’t just nervous about getting rejected. He was afraid that he might be loosing your friendship because of your actions, and he had already lost enough in his lifetime. “I’ll be here.” You caught Malcolm’s face brightening before he disappeared down the stairs.

~*~*~

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