#I drove by where I rescued them from the other day and almost started crying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jazthestampede · 2 years

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month 0.

Smaller than a grain of salt.

It started on top of Neji’s raggedy, old, summer camp sleeping bag. All heat and mouths trailing wet kisses down necks, across collarbones, on hips; two pairs of briefs hitting the floor, a raspy, whispered yes, then a slick slide. He still doesn’t know exactly how they got there or when—must have been sometime after doing lines in Naru’s lap in the backyard, encouraging the other boy turn into his slutty alter-ego, and watching him give the new kid in town a lap dance so thorough that he thought he saw one of the town’s resident bottle-blondes shove a twenty or two in the front pocket of those tight-ass shorts Naru loves to wear.

Seventeen days later, his nipples are sore and he’s nauseous when it hits him. They didn’t use a condom. He has no idea when his last cycle was beforehand.

So, what does he do? He makes an emergency run to Konoha. Naru will know what to do.

Naru, does in fact know exactly what to do and say to soothe his frazzled nerves. He doesn’t have a problem slapping the two garish, pink boxes that will tell him if his life is over—one as a pre-test, and the other final—on the counter along with the money, giving the cashier the finger, and rolling his eyes at her as she judges him.

Meanwhile, Gaara’s just trying to ignore the eyes burning twin, bug eyed holes into the back of his head. It’s not working so well. But he’s always been a master of the art of diversion.

“Fuck’s her problem?” He says to Naru once they exit the store.

“Hell if I know,” Naru says, shrugging his shoulder, “her mama can’t stand me, and I guess the apple don’t fall far from the goddamn tree.”

He lets out snort a snort and replies, “That’s so sad. You’re a fuckin’ gem, Naruto Uzumaki.”

Naru gives him his signature million-watt grin, “Ditto, Gaara No-Last-Name.”

It never fails to amuse him how Naru has heard his last name plenty times and still hasn’t figured out that it’s his.

When they get to the car, Gaara opens his mouth and asks, “Wanna go see Kiba for a lil’ bit before I get outta here?”

Naru tilts his head to the side, hand frozen on the door handle, “I thought you came to spend time with me?”

Gaara rubs his neck as he gets into the driver’s seat, “Don’t get me wrong, I did.” He says, tone apologetic, “But I gotta be back before six-thirty ‘cause my mama gotta be somewhere before seven and her car’s in the shop.”

Naru nods and ducks into the passenger’s seat, shutting the door with a quick slam, “Let’s do it.”

“Plus, I gotta go rescue Kankuro, Kiba’s mama look like she eats lil’ punk kids for breakfast.”

Naru laughs, something that never fails to cheer Gaara up. “She ain’t gonna eat him,” Naru says, “that’s Kuromaru’s job.”

Gaara cranks the engine and grins at Naru, “Like hellI’m finna miss that. So, where am I headed?”

“When you get to the end of the lot, make a right, keep straight, and it’s two blocks over. It’s the place with big house, a big sign, and all the dog toys in the yard. Sign says, “Inuzuka Kennels” on it.”

“You got it, boss. Kankuro drove in, and I was sleep most of the way, so I don’t know where the hell I’m goin’.”

***

The car ride is short, maybe five minutes with the midday traffic but Naru fills the car with loud music and a slew of questions. Gaara tunes most of them out with generic answers, because Naru asks him stuff all the time and won’t remember it twenty minutes later. But the boy asks one that cuts through to him.

“You gonna be okay?” He says with a look so soft and sincere it almost makes Gaara want to cry and hurl up the egg salad sandwich he ate before he got here.

Gaara decides to answer him honestly—not that he ever really lies to Naru, “Don’t know.” He says, “Guess I’ll find out soon enough. Naru nods and leaves it at that as he points out where to turn into the driveway.

And if the knot in the pit of Gaara’s stomach somehow loosens then tightens back up, well that’s his own business.

***

Hellcat practically barrels Naru over the second he says his hellos to everyone in the house and waves Gaara inside. Naru hugs his boyfriend back like he hasn’t seen him in years, when really, it’s only been a day or two. Gaara rolls his eyes, He hopes he never gets that lovesick.

Kiba’s mom is a delight, though. She pulls him into a gentle hug when she walks into the kitchen to greet them properly, then offers him a hielito from the refrigerator freezer. As he sits at the small, kitchen table, eyeing the kitschy decorations on the wall and focusing his attention on the can of Money House Blessing air freshener, he almost forgets about the black grocery bag with those two pink boxes inside on the car seat. Almost.

***

“So what’s in the bag, baby bro?” Kankuro asks once they’re on the freeway, leaving humid and hazy Konoha behind and heading into the perpetual dust storm that covers Suna.

See, Gaara might never lie to Naru, but he doesn’t mind lying to his older brother at all. “Remembered I was outta pads. Figured I should grab some before mommy leaves.”

Kankuro sniffs, but doesn’t make a face like he does when Temari mentions needing personals. “I would’ve taken you to get some before we got home.” He says, squinting at the road. “I don’t mind.”

Gaara sucks his teeth, “And have to sit there and watch you suck the life force out of your boyfriend? I’d rather watch paint dry.”

“Jesus, you wound me.” Is the last thing Kankuro says for the rest of the ride, too busy focusing on the road. He even has the radio turned all the way down so he can see better. Gaara snorts, maybe he should mention that Kankuro needs glasses to his mom.

Their house is less than five minutes away from the freeway, tucked into one of those fancy, wannabe gated communities where only half of the houses are built because the construction workers can’t work when the dust storms kick up too badly. Which means they just take the whole summer off, lazy bastards.

Kankuro pulls into the driveway and Gaara grips the plastic bag so hard it might rip. It’s not like his parents can see through it, and he can stash it under his bed until he’s ready for his life to be over…So why is he so nervous?

“How was your trip out, honey?” his mother asks the second they walk in the door and past the living room.

“Good.” He and Kankuro answer in unison, Kankuro heads into the living room and Gaara shoots up the stairs before she can ask anything else.

Two lines. Four, if you count both tests glaring back at him from the bathroom sink.

He’s fucking pregnant.

Nami wraps him up in a hug and he feels himself getting light headed. Fucking pregnant, he thinks, whose gonna take me seriously now?

#schnippets #literary brainfarts #fic: growing wild and free #au: summer!au #series: dog days.

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blissfulparker · 3 years

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Driving First class→T.H

Parings: mechanic!tom x reader

Summary: A bitter fight with your now ex has you taking your car instead of a train for a business trip. Although out of your pettiness and anger, your car breaks down and you are left in the middle of nowhere but luckily Tom sees your distress and the man who works on the car is your best rescue. But he works on you other ways both Physically and emotionally

Warnings: Dom!tom, sub!reader, degrading(only slightly), sex on top of a car, squirting, oral, unprotected sex (this is fictional please use protection!), orgasm denial, power struggle, Tom being scared of women for two seconds

Word count: 5.5k

A/n: yeah so idk why I got so horny all the sudden and wrote this. Tbh...I like this version of tom, whatever this is I kinda like it. Let me know what you guys think, if you want to see more or less but I present to you: the first full fic I’ve written in months!(also I know barely anything about cars so I’m sorry if it’s cringy😭)

“Fuck! Shit! Dammit! Fuck! Fuck!” You scream. Hitting your hands against the steering wheel. Such a stupid idea with a stupid end result how could you not expect it?

Taking a car instead of a plane or a train across the country to avoid your ex on a business trip. Thinking you were being more bold and brave, proving you never needed him in the first place when now you sit stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a smoking engine and only hours until sunset and you’re sweating your ass off in a suit. A suit, who the hell wears a suit on a road trip?

Your Phone only having one bar and giving you 20%, you’re doomed. Doomed to be stranded out here and either killed by a maniac or killed by a bear. If London even had bears you would be killed by one. Wanting to cry and scream and maybe a train seat next to your ex who cheated was a better option than crying in your grandpa’s old Chevy that you thought was a better idea than the Tesla or the BMW. Anything would’ve been a better idea than this one but for once you couldn’t let go of the fiery side to you and just got in a car with your middle finger to your ex thinking you were so much better than a first class seat with expensive champagne.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You say to yourself. Your hands run over your face. As dramatic as you can be you think you feel the end coming. The smoke from the engine never dies down and the sun is getting hotter and hotter. No more bubble gum pop plays from the radio but instead the sound of birds chirping and your paranoia of a bear eating you eats at your ears. You think maybe you should’ve sent that drunk ‘I miss you’ text to your ex back two nights ago when you were drunk to maybe just feel his dick once more and get on a stupid train with him but now you are—

“Miss?” A knock at your window causes you to jump. Screaming as you are met with the face of a man and grabbing your pepper spray from the keys and pointing. Even though the window was rolled up you still point and he backs up with his hands up.

“What the fuck!” You scream as you lower the pepper spray. You don’t know when, don’t know how, but now pulled in front of you was a black SUV that was in much better shape than your car. A man who wore a tight white shirt and had sweet chocolate brown curls stood with a scared look on his face.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve seen your smoke some while back and...and you were slumped over your steering wheel and needed to make sure I didn’t need to call police.” He explained very rushed. You place your hand over your heart, calming yourself as you reached to roll down your window so you can properly talk to him. A harmless boy who was probably on his way home.

“I’m fine.” You almost groan as you put your pepper spray back down. Running your hands over your face once again. Tom takes in how nice you look, black suit and neatly painted nails, you looked expensive so what was such an expensive girl like you doing in such a dirty old car like this?

“You got smoke coming from your car, you don’t look fine miss.” He looks at the cloud that still comes from your car. He has a worried look. You hate that you make the assumption of him being a man so he will know how to fix it but at the same time he was an Angel sent from Heaven,

“The engine blew out...at least I think…” you trail off. Honestly you didn’t know anymore, The last time you worked with a car was when you were 15 and before your grandpa died. The only person who truly taught you about cars now seemed to be reincarnated into the Greek god in front of you.

“Mind if I take a look?” He asked and you nodded as you popped the hood.

Stepping out of your car you join the boy in the front. Taller than him in the heels you wore having him look up at you as if you were the Angel sent down in the moment.

He doesn’t hesitate to dig his fingers into your car. Feeling the overheated engine and you watched as his eyes went in shock and his sigh. You were fucked. Utterly fucked and no, it wasn’t by some hot guy on a plane like you wished in the moment.

“She’s busted.” He looked at you. You almost want to roll your eyes and go ‘thanks’ as if you already didn’t know that. “I might be able to fix her up, gotta take her back to the shop and see what I can do but other than that she’s no good for a ride.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at you again.

“You mean it’s like broken broken down?” You start to panic even more. Ruining the BMW was far more worth it than the ‘57 Chevy you drove. No one made a car like this anymore and you adored it. Every chip of paint, every dent, each faded seat you loved as your own.

“I can see what I can do.” He shrugged. He starts to walk to his car, opening the trunk to hook your busted vehicle up to his and drag it back to where he just came from. As he starts to hook up your car you only just stare, watching as he does his work. He rubs his now oily hands on his pant leg before he looks up at you.

“You wanna hop in the front?” He asked and you started walking to your car and he let out a laugh. “No I meant my car, Angel.”

The random man that pulls over on the side of the road, has you pointing your pepper spray one moment ago now has you acting like a idiot as he was so pretty and a gift sent just for you.

“Right,” you walk around to the passengers seat. “Sorry.” You cleared your throat as you sat and waited in silence. Waiting for him to come around and when he does he doesn’t say anything but just starts up the car.

“You’re not going to kill me are you?” You looked over to him who has a goofy grin on his face.

“No sweetheart.” He shakes his head and you sigh in relief. As if he would even tell you that he was going to kill you. “You’re not going to kill me are you? With that spray you’ve got?” He teased and you shook your head.

“No, and sorry, I was just panicked and you are—“ you started but he lets a low laugh that you find so attractive.

“No I get it, you’re fine.” He stared back at the road. You were so use to the city, the tall building and the blinding lights you never really got to see the beauty of London outside of it. The gorgeous countryside you never knew existed actually did. But the countryside only lasted for so long before you were in a town filled with some of the cutest shops and was like a small city. So cute and so tiny.

“You wear heels on a road trip?” He broke the silence again and this time you’re looking at the four inch shoes.

“I-well-“ you looked and sounded like a proper idiot. You worked for one of London’s best businesses and now you were stumbling over your words, “well...yes? I’m on a business trip.” You admit and he looks back at the busted vehicle.

“I don’t know what business you work for but them sending you in a—“ he starts and you shake your head.

“No, no, that is mine. I thought—I didn’t want to go on a train and—it’s just complicated. A complicated stupid mess.” You tell him and he tilts his head as if he was agreeing.

“Well, I’ll see how well I can get you out of the complicated stupid mess.” He flashed a smile before he turned into what looked like a garage. A large garage that was filled with cars of all types, from new to old there were cars that had looked like they had been worked on for days as Tom pulled his car up and turned it off.

“We have some water in the front if you need some and there's a bathroom in the back. Make yourself a home, I'll get started.” and so for once, instead of just staring at him as if he was a piece of art hanging in the louvre, you search for the bathroom and the water he was talking about.

Leaving him to pop back open your hood, you walk into the bathroom and run cold water over your face. Feeling yourself relax at the feeling of finally getting the heat from the sun out of your face. Facing yourself in the mirror, you stare long and hard at yourself. The dimly lit bathroom, the achy feeling in your feet from being so stupid and wearing heels, the fact you broke down in god know what part of london but now you are in a mechanic shop and you are letting some random person fix up your beloved car.

“Should’ve just gotten on the train.” you groan as you take a paper towel and dry your face. Reaching for the door and walking back out to the garage where tom was now in a white tank top that was stained black all over, he had a towel over his shoulder as he worked at your car. You try to swallow the lump in your throat as you are completely mesmerized by the man in front of you.

Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train.

“Fuck!” Tom almost hits his head on the hood of the car as he sees you. You think he had curly hair at the start, now he had hair that kind of stuck to his forehead from the heat and sweat of your car. His hands are covered in black oils and he wipes them on the towel. “You scared me.” he lets out a breath as if he held it in and you take a seat at the stool next to the table filled with tools as he walks over to it.

“Sorry,” you say as you look at the car and try not to make it obvious you want to fuck him right now. A complete stranger that picked you up, you want to fuck. What if he did want to kill you? What if he had a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Or a family of kids? What if-

“You hear me?” he was closer to you than ever and you felt your whole body go weak.

“I'm so sorry,” you shake your head. “What did you say?’

He lets out that stupid pretty laugh of his again as he puts tools back in the tool box. Cleaning up the mess he just made he repeats himself.

“I said, your car is so old that they don't make the part I need to fix her up anymore. Luckily I know a guy who has the part but it will take a few days to come in. the engine is completely busted and i think if i go a year up in model I can put it in just right. But for now she needs to cool off. She’s not gonna be able to drive for a while.” he gives you almost a pout and you slouch your shoulders.

“So I'm screwed?” your brows raised and he gave you a pressed lipped look.

“Im sorry angel, I got a spare room at my place or there is a bed and breakfast up the road I can drop you off at but for now there is nothing I can do.” he says and you sigh. Maybe you want to cry, scream, throw something but Tom notices it all at once as he watches your head drop.

Tom grew up around boys. His whole life was wrestling with his brothers and working on cars. He never dealt with girls crying. Even when he had girlfriends they typically left when they were crying but now he has a crying girl right under his roof after he worked on her car. It did take everything in him to not ask why she used the old thing but he knew a lot more was happening than just a beat down old car.

“I'm sorry. I should thank you, not cry.” you sniffled as you looked up at him who was on his knees crouched down for you. Face to face, he had a concerned look.

“I have a feeling that car isn't why you’re crying.” he didn't know how to play therapist and mechanic but tonight he would.

“I was so stupid not to just get on the train. God, I would have already been there by now and all because I didnt want to sit next to my stupid cheating ex who I thought I was so much better than if I just got in this old thing and drove there myself.” you wipe your eyes and he hands you a tissue but you shake your head.

“He sounds like a shit guy.” He spoke and you nodded.

“He is, but he was the only one that gave a shit about me and now I'm here like an idiot. Well, not an idiot...no, yeah. An idiot. You're really nice and sweet though so thank you.” you try and give him a smile and he stands up.

“Get up.” he groans a bit as he stretches his legs. “C’mon sweets, get up. I’m not going to let you cry over a guy who treated you like shit. You drink?” he asked and you nodded. “I have some beer in the fridge, you already had a shit day let's not cry about it.”

You don't know if you wanted to throw the wrench at him or if you needed him to say that. Either way he sets an ice cold beer in front of you and pops open the top for you.

Probably making more money than everyone in this town, you never thought you would plop down on a nearly broken bar stool in the middle of a car mechanic shop and drink away your feelings with a random man you just met today. You didnt even know his name, nor did he know yours but he listened to everything you had to say about your ex boyfriend who was probably fucking some model right now while you for once felt like you didnt have to play pretend nice in front of someone. How you don't know what god above sent this man in front of you but he did and he listened to each of your problems, nodding and not saying anything back as he just listened to everything.

“I used to work on cars too.” you look over at the cars and he raises his brows.you had finally stopped crying so much, realizing what was happening and where you were but you felt like a weight was taken off your shoulders when you told him everything. Not even your best friend could make you feel like that.

“Penthouse princess used to work on cars?” he teased and you only nudged his shoulder.

“Wow, penthouse princess?” you repeat back to him with a playful smile and he nods.

“Never got your name and you live in a penthouse and act like a princess.” he takes a sip of his beer and you finally extend your hand to meet his.

“(y/n).” you shook his dirty one but wow were his hands thick. You could feel each callous and feel each crooked finger. Your mind went to dirty places and you think maybe he caught on as he watched your legs cross over themselves as you shook his hand.

“Tom.” his thumb swiped over yours as he shook your hand. The feeling made you swallow hard and him smirk just a bit for himself. Before you could get too comfy you walked over to a truck that already had its hood popped open. You stumble a bit in your heels and the uneven ground and Tom is quick to follow you to make sure you don't hurt yourself.

“That's the engine.” you point. And he nods, his hand is on his hips as he watches you point and explain. “That's the brake pad, that's where you put in the oil…” you trail on and Tom nods as you get everything correct.

“Very good, darling.” he nods impressed and you look over at him with a smirk.

“What? No penthouse princess?” you're close to him. You didn't realize how close he was to you before you turned around and are almost chest to chest with him.

“Mmh, you have a preference?” he teased and you look down at your feet. You're still taller than him, but you think even without the heels on you would be either taller or the same height as him. You were always told that you were the one in control, always the one in demand which seemed to be a complaint by your ex.

“Mmh,” you lean in close enough to where your chest is gently pressed against his. “I'm not sure yet.” you let your hand go to the strap of his tank top, its dirty with oil before you let your hands go down and touch the muscle. Feeling just how strong he was, he was pretty tanned too. He was both toned and tanned as he watched your hands trail down to the bottom of his shirt.

His hands rested on your waist. Holding you tight in place and maybe in the moment he was the shorter on but he was always in control. Always.

“You seem so indecisive, do you want to drive or get on a train? Get back with a man or stay away? You don't even know where you want to sleep at night but you still act like you're so in control.” he almost mocks, giving you the same pout you had throughout the entire night and it shocked you.

“I know what I want.” you nearly snarl back and he clicks his tongue.

“Yeah?” he almost whispers as he leans in for your ear. “Prove it.”

You don't know when or how but his lips quickly land on yours. In a rough fight for dominance he has his hands wrapped around your thighs and has you picked up and laid down on one of the cars with a hood down. You don't realize it's your car with his hood down until you brace yourself on the hood. Stripping of your suit jacket and fiddling with your pants button but tom is already on it. He's down on his knees, undoing the straps of your shoes as he lets his hands go up and undo the buttons of your pants. Having you nearly completely naked in front of him, that's not exactly what he was going for as he picks you up from the hood as has you on your knees in front of him.

“Was so cute, you thought you were going to get exactly what you wanted.” his hand was dirty as it stroked your face but landed a grip on your chin. Pulling you in close, your head in between his thighs looking up at him with pleading eyes. You almost whimper, you were on your knees for a man you didn't know and you were almost whimpering.

“Dont act stupid.” he nearly spit at you as he leaned back. Your hands are going to unzip his pants but he stops you. Forcing you to rest your hands on his thighs as he pulls himself out of his pants. You swallowed hard as he was bigger than you had expected--far bigger than your ex as you felt like your mouth was watering as he used his thumb to stroke over the tip.

“Stick your tongue out.” he told you. You gladly stuck your tongue out with your mouth wide and ready to take him. He had one grip on your jaw and the other guiding his cock into your mouth. You start to suck but that's not what he wanted. He held your jaw in place as he thrusted up into you.

“Thats a good girl,” he hissed as he used your mouth as if it was his own personal toy. You reached to stroke what couldnt fit in your mouth and he let out an airy laugh. “What a little whore you are.” he shook his head. “So desperate, is this not enough for you? Sucking on my cock not enough for you?” he taunted you and you only moan—or at least try to moan and he laughs.

“What was that darling? I can't seem to hear you?” he teased and you only whined more with your mouth around him. You play a game with yourself where you think you can make him cum like this. Making him cum this early would mean that you always were more incharge from the start. But you barely know him, you don't know how long he can last.

“Get up.” he pulls your head off of him. His cock still hard as it fell onto his stomach and you were drooling with his precum. Your eyes don't even look up at him you look at the redness of his cock, how you want more of it and maybe you were the whore like he said.

“Look at me,” he pulled you up, now face to face with him. His hand that was free slips in between thighs, teasing as he gets closer and closer to your core and he clicks his tongue again. “Such a dirty girl, don't even want to look at me, say thank you, you just look at my cock wanting more. You want more?” he strokes your cheek and you nod. “What was that? A moment ago I thought I was talking to one of the richest girls in London but now I feel like I'm talking to just some whore--” he starts to talk but your lips are already on his. You straddle his hips. Extremely unsturdy but he quickly picks you up and flips you over. As much as he'd loved to see what you look like on top of him. Tits bouncing for him and trying to hold on, here was not the best place. He would get a better view later, he just knew it.

For now he flips you over on your stomach. You're pressed up against the car as he wraps his hand around your waist and uses his fingers for a bit.

“So fucking tight.” he slides in slowly at first. Making you gasp and him hiss. “That other boy fuck you like this?” he asked but you were too busy trying to feel more of him. His hand comes down to your ass and in shock you yelp. “I asked you a question, don't say you don't know manners either.'' He was close to your ear and you shook your head no.

“No!” you nearly cry out as he pushes into you. Completely filling you up. You feel tears perk at the corner of your eyes for how desperately you needed him. You even push back on him and he lets out a soft laugh. “H-he's never fucked me like this, god tom please move!” you cry out. His hands come to your waist and he clicks his tongue again.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he teased as he pulled himself fully out and pushed himself fully back in. you cry out, not caring who heard you, you cried out as he fucked into you like you two were the last people on earth.

“Fuck youre so tight.” he threw his head back as he held on to your hips. You felt yourself give up under him. There was no use in you trying to take control anymore when he did this to you. Had you dumbed down just for his dick.

“I need to cum tom.” you cry out. You try and open your eyes to look back at him who has created a rhythm for your body. His head is thrown back and he shakes his head.

“No.” was all he said and you nearly cry more. “Not yet.” was all he said as he went faster.

“Please, please, please.” you begged between a mixture of moans and cries. Reaching back to hold his hands but he quickly moved them to wrap around your waist and touch your clit. Using his thumb to rub gentle circles you nearly

“So cute when you whine like that.” he chuckled. You felt him twitch, knowing he was close too, you clenched your walls around him. You could barely hear his gasp but you have your cheek pushed up against the hood of your car that got you here in the first place.

“Fuck,” he struglld to moan out. “C-Cum for me.” he sped up and your whole body went numb. You swear you pass out for a moment as all you hear are his moans and the sudden feeling of him stopping.

Both heavy breathing you slowly move yourself to get up, at least turn yourself around so you can face a clearly stunned tom. His mouth open just a bit and his eyes are wide.

“Y-you squirted.” he tells you and suddenly you go from feeling like the sexiest person alive to feeling your body heat up in full embarrassment.

“I-i'm so sorry i-i didn't know-” you start to stammer as you reach for your shirt to clean him up but he shakes his head still trying to catch his breath.

“No, It was hot.” he says as his shock turns into a small smirk, cocky that he was able to do that. “Fuck, have you ever done that before?” he asked.

Your cheeks heated up, even though he couldn't see the clear embarrassment you nodded. One time, years ago when you were by yourself. You hadn't touched yourself in over a month and it was just the highest setting of your vibe and the hottest porn star you could find that had done it to you. Never ever had an actual man been able to make you do that. Hell, you were lucky if your ex even made you cum.

“O-Once, once but I was by myself.” you swallowed hard, you could already see the smirk on his face as he knew he was so much better than anyone you had ever had. He didn't even know your ex partners but if he could get you to do that the first time he fucked you then even you knew you didn't need anyone else.

He uses his clean shirt to clean you up. Helping you slip back on your underwear and making sure that you could still walk--you barely could. He helps you into his car. Letting you cool down a bit before he drove out of the garage, driving down the road and it was only about a minute until you arrived at the cutest house you had ever seen.

He lifted you out and brought you inside, passing you clothes that were far better to sleep in than a suit and your completely ruined underwear, you found yourself getting comfy under his bedsheets.

“So im guessing im not going to the bed and breakfast for the night?” you nuzzled into the sheets that smelt of ocean spray and cedarwood. This man was some sort of god, you swore on it.

“Hmm, no. unless you still want to.” he slides under the sheets himself. His hands dont touch you but you gladly lean in and wrap your arms around him. He at first stills, stiffens his whole body before he relaxes for you. He didn't even know what he was thinking. First he helps the pretty girl he worried was dead on the side of the road and now he has her in his bed after having one of the best orgasms of his life.

“No,” you hum against his chest. “If you don't mind.” but it wasn't a question. This time you take control over the situation and fall quickly asleep in his arms. He only lays there, waiting for you to find yourself fully asleep.

Fuck that stupid train, fuck your stupid ex, and fuck him.

Dark roast and sizzling eggs fill your nose. You wake up with puffy eyes, from crying last night embarrassingly in Tom's arms you look down and see you're only in a random stained tee and your underwear. In a way,you thought you hit your head hard enough on the steering wheel that all of this was a dream but it was real. You lay in a grey sheeted bed and hear the sound of music come from the kitchen.

Ideally, if you got on the train, you would have woken up in a hotel with a view of the city and probably eat half of a bagel and drink rich coffee from the breakfast bar before being off to your first conference of the day. But you were instead naked in the bed of a man who was helping you fix your car.

You stumble out of the bed, your legs wobbly, feeling as if you did a hardcore work out you nearly wince. What the man did was something you swore was only in porn. You don't know what kind of magic fucked him over while he works on cars but his fingers were skilled.

“Woah, woah,” Tom came over to you. Plaid boxers and no shirt, you think you died and went to heaven. Your car exploded and you died and went to heaven and if this is what it was then you were perfectly okay with that. “You okay?”

You nod, sitting at the island and only watching him. You knew you had to say a word soon but you didn't know what to say.

“Not so sure how you liked your eggs so I made them scrambled because that's personally how I like them but I can make them any other way you like-” he starts to go off and you only nod.

“No, I like scrambled.” When was the last time you had a breakfast like this? You grew up with servants and your parents are always gone. You never had a breakfast as simple as this.

He gave you a smile, you walked over to the coffee machine and poured coffee into the mug that was already out.

“Not sure if you were a coffee or tea type of person, if you-” before you could listen to his ramble again you shook your head.

“I like coffee. Coffee for the morning and tea typically in the evening.” you tell him and he gives a smile and a sweet nod.

“Me too.” was all he said before he remembered what was happening. “Hey, when do you have to be at that business trip? Or whatever it was?” you nearly spit out the coffee as he brings it up. You knew everything that was happening but honestly you were holding on to the concept you died and went to heaven but you had a conference in probably an hour and who the hell knows where you are.

“You know what,” your heart suddenly calms down. The panic subsides as you take another sip of that coffee. “Fuck them. They have waited for others before and they can wait for me. Fuck the trip, fuck the car and fuck my ex.” you felt good saying it. Tom slid you a plate of eggs and toast and you smiled.

“The car is still better than the train?” He remembers how all of this is about you and your ex fighting and you not wanting to sit on the train next to him.

With a smile, with everything that had happened within the past 24 hours, you pick up the plate and turn to tom.

“I don't think I should've taken the train.”

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Tagged for mechanic!tom: @londonspidey

#mechanic!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland angst

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mediocre-writerr · 3 years

Text

unbreakable [jennifer jareau]

jennifer jareau x reader, emily prentiss x sister!reader

requested: i love your works sm, could i request a criminal minds one where the reader is emily’s little sister and jj’s girlfriend and she gets injured and she calls jj to tell them her location, but her injuries kept getting worse. jj and emily try to stay calm, but are scared and when they get to her its angsty (and COMFORT)

*not my gif*

The black pickup truck flew through the red light, heading straight for you. Your blood froze in your veins. You wanted to swerve out of the way, but you couldn’t. You were frozen.

The black blur grew closer and closer with ease. You couldn’t even get into a position to save yourself, you just continued to stare as the car rammed into your driver’s side.

The amount of force causing your entire car to flip over and over and over again. Until eventually you landed in a little ditch with your car upside down.

You don’t know how you were still conscious, but you couldn’t move. Everything in your body ached.

It was a simple drive. A drive you’ve made countless times. You were going to surprise your sister and your girlfriend at the bureau with their favorite lunch. You know how much stress they’ve been under lately, but then all of a sudden you felt like you were dying in a ditch.

Luckily, with technology these days you were able to use your car to call your girlfriend. The ringing filled the echoing car as your eyes began to grow heavy.

“Hey love, you’re on speaker! What’s up?” JJ’s voice filled the car.

“Hey Y/N,” Emily’s voice said from next to her and you smiled to yourself softly.

You cleared your throat before speaking up, “I’m-I’m in a bit of a situation,”

There was silence on the other end of the phone and you could just imagine their faces right now. They probably looked at each other, each of their smiles dropping.

“What happened?” both of their voice said in unison.

You chuckled softly, “So uh funny story, I was going to surprise you guys today,” you got out as you felt your breathing start to become more ragged, “Bring you your favorite lunch, but as I was a driving a truck came out of nowhere and now I’m outside down in a ditch,”

“Okay, Y/N, where are you right now?” Emily asked and you could tell her protective older sister was showing.

You tried to remember where you were driving by, but your mind was starting to become a little fuzzy. You shrugged even though they couldn’t see you, “I’m-I’m not sure, I already got the food so I was on the way to the bureau. I can’t remember,” you admitted and you started panicking even more, “Guys, why can’t I remember?”

Reid’s voice whispered to both JJ, who was pacing the room, and Emily who was currently bitting on her fingernails, “She’s probably suffering head trauma,”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” JJ’s voice whispered soothingly into the phone, “Close your eyes and try to think,”

You closed your eyes, following the exercise the BAU did on countless occasions to help victims remember, but you came up empty, “I don’t know! I can’t! I can’t remember!” you exclaimed as your chest started heaving.

“It’s gonna be okay, can you move?” JJ asked again, “Are you able to get out of the car?”

You shook your head, “No, no I can’t move. J, what’s wrong with me?” you whimpered.

It was her turn to shake her head, “Nothing, absolutely nothing. We’re gonna have Penelope track your phone okay? And we’ll be right there to you. Hotch is gonna send an ambulance as soon as we get your location, okay?”

“You may want to hurry,” you whispered, feeling blood drip down your face, “I don’t know if it’s ketchup from your burgers or blood that’s dripping from my head,”

You reached up to feel your head and looked back at your fingers before smelling it, “No, that’s blood,”

“Baby girl,” Derek said in a stern voice to Penelope who was trying her best to get the location fast enough.

She looked at him with a nod, “I’m going as fast as I can,” With a few more types at the keyboard there was a ping, “I got it!”

They all looked at the computer screen, Hotch was already on the phone with the ambulance repeating back her location. Without hesitation, JJ and Emily ran out of the room and towards the car. Everyone else following suit.

They drove to where you were which wasn’t that far away, literally down the block. You were almost there.

The girls parked on the side of the road and noticed that no one bothered stopping to help you. The black pickup truck, nowhere to be seen, he probably drove off as soon as he was well enough to leave.

There was broken glass leading towards the ditch and they slid down it as safely as possible. Your driver’s side door was caved in so they went to the other side to drive and get to you.

“Hey Y/N?” Emily’s voice filled your ears and your ears perked up, despite your eyes threatening to give out on you any second now, “We’re here now, okay? I need you to stay strong, the paramedic is on their way,”

You smiled, “I don’t know,” was all you could get out, until you calmed your breathing down, “I don’t know if I can stay awake for that long,”

JJ’s eyes were threatening to spill the tears that were held in her eyes. Derek went over to the passenger’s side to see if he can help get you out. JJ hung out next to your driver’s side and looked at the blood trickling from your head.

“Can you stay awake for me, baby?” JJ asked and you turned your head to look at her best as possible.

You made a pouty face, “I’m really tired JJ,” you whispered, “I think I need to go to bed,”

Emily finally started breaking down, “No, we’re gonna try something, okay?” She could see you slowly nod, “Okay, it’s Christmas Eve, you’re six years old and I’m eight. We wanted so bad to stay up and see Santa put gifts under a tree and you were following asleep, but I kept waking you up. You need to keep imagining that okay?”

“Emily, I love you,” you told her as your eyes started drooping more.

She shook her head, “Hey, no. Santa’s coming soon! We need to stay awake,” she told you.

Even with Derek’s strength he couldn’t get the car door open. He slammed his hands on the car in frustration, as he looked up at Hotch, “They’re gonna be here in five minutes!”

“Hotch! We don’t have that kind of time!” Derek screamed.

JJ reached her hand through your broken window, “I love you,” you whispered to her as she rubbed your cheekbone softly.

“You can tell me that when we get you all bandaged up, okay?” she told you and you shook your head.

“I think my head needs a little more than a band-aid,” you joked which caused her to let out a breathy laugh.

Mission accomplished, you thought to yourself.

You started to close your eyes and she shook head, “Hey, stay awake, okay?”

“Can you tell me a story?” you whispered, something JJ would do whenever you were having a rough day or the two of you were being lazy on the couch.

“Will you stay awake for me if I do?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’ll try my best,”

“It’s Christmas Eve in about twelve years or so. We have two kids who are six and eight. They’re waiting for Santa to come down the chimney so they can see him. They’re telling each other that they need to stay awake,” she begins and looks at Emily who’s breaking down, crying softly in Derek’s arms.

Her voice starts to become more shaky, “And I’m shaking your arm in bed every so often whispering to you, ‘Love, you need to stay up so we can put the presents on the tree’. But you’re falling in and out of sleep, so I give you a sweet kiss and rip the blanket off of you. You groan in response as you cling onto me,”

Your eyes start to close, but JJ continues talking, “You say ‘I'm so tempted to call Rossi and tell him to buy a Santa costume just so they can go to bed already.’” you let out a breathy laugh as JJ tries her best not to cry in front of you, “You always pretend to hate the idea of staying up, but you’re secretly happy because it reminds you of how you and Emily used to be when you were young,”

“In a world where your parents were barely around and the only people you had were each other, waiting for Santa to come reminds you of her,” she finishes telling you, “You need to stay awake, okay? So we can live a life like that, please,”

The flashing of blue and red lights, along with sirens filled the void of silence. The paramedics and firemen rushing down the ditch to come and rescue you. JJ is moved out of the way and into Emily’s arms. The two of them crying together, holding each other close.

The firemen breaking the door away, letting the paramedics due their duties as they rushed you onto a gurney. Your eyes were still fluttering open and closed as you tried your best to hold onto the little life that was present in your body.

Until you couldn’t anymore.

/ / /

“Love,” JJ’s voice drew out, you fluttered your eyes open to see her staring back at you, “You fell asleep again,”

You rolled your eyes teasingly, “I’m sorry, these kids are unbreakable. It’s 4 in the morning and I need to sleep if we’re going to be hosting tomorrow. I mean we still have to finish cleaning,”

It was her turn to roll your eyes as she pressed a soft, yet sweet kiss to your lips. You smiled into it, the feeling of contentment overflowing you. But it’s gone all too soon as the cool Virginian winter air hit your body.

“No! Babe!” you whispered, groaning.

JJ was sitting up in bed as you wrapped your arms around her waist, clinging onto her like a sloth onto a tree. She let out a laugh before planting a kiss to the top of your head.

“Rossi is on speed dial, I am more than willing to call him,” you mumbled, before placing a kiss to her hip causing her to laugh more.

The two of you just stayed in that position until you couldn’t hear whispers from downstairs anymore.

You perked your head up, “Do you hear that?”

“What?”

“Exactly,” you shot out of bed as quickly, but quietly as possible. She let out a soft giggle before following suit.

The hard wood floor cold against your bare feet. You looked from the top step to see the kids finally fast asleep on the floor. JJ opened the closet door and grabbed all of their presents, lying them neatly along the tree.

You took the cookies that they made and took small bites out of it before drinking some of the milk. You went over to JJ with a cookie in your hand, wrapping your arms around her waist from behind.

“Cookie?” you whispered and she nodded gratefully before taking a bite out of it.

The two of you just swayed from side to side as you embraced the colorful lights of the Christmas tree filling the dark room and your two kids sleeping peacefully on the floor with one another.

You grabbed your phone from your pocket, shooting a text to Emily who was probably fast asleep. You and JJ got close to the two kids before taking a selfie with them, sending the picture to Emily saying:

They did it again...stayed up much later this time. I’m starting to feel bad for Mom and Dad now!

You grabbed the blanket that was on the couch and laid it over the two kids, as JJ wrote note in cursive thanking them for all the cookies. You placed a kiss to each of their heads before following JJ to bed.

The two of you getting comfortable once more in bed, finally allowing yourselves to try and get some sleep, “Aren’t you glad you stayed awake?” she whispered.

You nodded, softly, thinking back to the time where you almost died, “I’m very glad I stayed awake,” you told her, the double meaning hidden along the sentence.

But JJ knew, she always knew.

#jennifer jareau imagines #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x reader #jj criminal minds #jj criminal minds imagines #jj x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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bratkook · 4 years

Text

like you used to. jjk

“So kill me like you used to...”

part two.

pairing. ex boyfriend!jungkook x reader genre. angst, mentions of smut, toxic exes warnings. very toxic depictions of relationships, hints at infidelity, drunken mistakes, they’re both very toxic for each other and just can’t stay away, brief mentions of smut word count. 2.9k note. this is just a lump of angst that my mind conjured at 1am last night, i just love angst and messy relationships that are destined to fail 😌(its not edited so if u see a typo no u dont)

It always started with a phone call.

Whether it was from you or him always changed. Sometimes he’d get the call at two in the morning, vision blurry as he brought the phone to his face and saw your name illuminated on the screen, that old goofy selfie you had together still set as your contact photo. He’d hesitate for a moment just to keep you on your toes before pressing accept, already getting up and putting pants on because he knew just what you were calling for.

Tonight was your turn to be on the receiving end, laying in bed comfortably as you scrolled through random posts to try to help you sleep, the flash of his face fills your phone, it’s a random close up photo of his eyes staring right into the camera, crinkled up in a smile. Even though his name is changed in your contacts, no longer having the cute bunny emoji tacked to the end, you know you’ll still pick up in a heartbeat. And you do.

The second you press accept you’re met with the familiar sound of his voice, slurred and thick as he speaks so jumbled up you would barely be able to understand him if you didn’t already know what he was saying. It was the same things he always said whenever he got like this, proclamations of love that only cut up your freshly scabbed over wounds, salt rubbing into them when he cries about how he misses you, promises to change.

They get cut off when the phone is yanked away from his grasp, the second familiar voice belonging to his buddy Yugyeom now speaking into the receiver. “You gotta pick him up Y/N.”

The annoyance is evident in his voice, the babbling of Jungkook still heard in the background along with the dull beat of whatever place they were outside of.

“He’s not my responsibility Yugyeom.”

He simply sighs into the phone, staring at his mess of a friend before rubbing his jaw, sore and aching from where he had just been socked after attempting to force him into an uber. “Yeah well he won’t let anyone else take him home, he’s drunk as fuck. I’ll send you the location.”

Not waiting for a response he hangs up and sends you a pin of where they’re at, thrusting the phone back into his friend’s hands before getting into that uber and leaving Jungkook alone while he whines against the dirty bar wall, crouching down onto the filthy sidewalk as the car drove off.

Yugyeom knew you would come to his rescue like you always did, never once saying no and letting Jungkook fend for himself because on the rare occasions where you’d call him drunk and crying he’d do the same.

Getting into the car still dressed in your pajamas, shoes thrown on without being laced up, hair still messy, it felt like routine now from how often it happened. Jungkook called you sober, text you while in a sane state of mind, but without fail at least once a month he’d get absolutely shit faced and call you, leaving you what he thought were heartfelt voicemails if by some chance you didn’t answer.

It was the same bar every time, a bar you used to frequent with him, knowing the location and all the small side streets to get you there without needing directions. Doing this felt like such a normal part of your life it almost made you forget that you and Jungkook weren’t together anymore. It’s been a year since you split and you still find yourself thinking if things could be different.

Would it have been best if you never confessed to each other, never admitted to the small inkling of a crush before it was able to fully blossom? It was hard not to wonder how different life would be now if you had walked away the first time things went south, if he had walked away after the first argument.

Whenever he called you, pulled you in with those drunken promises it was easy to convince yourself that your relationship was perfect, that it was worth all of the struggles. Your brain morphed each fight, each time you cried alone, twisted it around and molded it to make it easier to consume, easier to believe you were meant to be.

You thought you were soulmates, and maybe you were, two people destined to be together, meeting at the wrong time, under the wrong circumstances. What was meant to be perfect puzzle pieces connected had slowly turned into jagged edges that no longer clicked regardless of how hard you tried to jam them together, foolishly thinking you could spill your love into the gaps to mend the spaces, making the pieces whole once more.

Love was never enough.

Love made you stupid, made you blind and gullible, smiling through lies to avoid arguments, going to bed angry until he was hovering over you, coaxing you into forgiveness with soft kisses and gentle touches. It always went this way, regardless of who’s fault it was without fail he’d end up slot between your legs, the only time the puzzle pieces connected perfectly, allowing him to fuck you as if he’d never see you again. Murmurs of love and adoration were passed between panting breaths, sloppy kisses, shared moans to mask the empty promises you made every time.

Staying away from each other was a hard habit to kick, the two of you stuck on an endless game of seesaw, neither of you having the guts to get off and move on. All it took was a simple drunk phone call for you to go his way, the slur of his voice as he cries into the receiver about how much he loved you, missed you, needed you next to him, wanted to try again. It reeled you in so easily, winding you up until you were hauling your sloppy ex boyfriend off the dirty floor and into your small car.

He remembers none of this, he never did, not fully anyways. Small tidbits of words he said flash in his mind as he comes to, drool on his cheek and neck sore from the unfortunate position he had slept in, groggy and unaware of his surroundings.

He knew your apartment too well, recognized the green wall he had helped you paint, now holding endless pictures of you and your friends. None of Jungkook anymore.

All of those photos were gone now, not burned or shredded in some ritual to get over him, simply tucked into a box and shoved so far into your closet you hoped you would forget it. You never did of course, the way the box laid dust free made it clear how often you pulled it out and sorted through the photos whenever you had too much wine, whenever you had off days where you just felt so alone and wished you could go back to the times you had convinced yourself were better. They weren’t, you knew they weren’t once you sobered up and balanced out your emotions.

Jungkook doesn’t feel bothered that not a trace of him remained visible in your home, he knew his presence lingered in the cracks, buried so deep in the crevices of your mind he knew you would always think of him.

He groans softly as his eyes roam the interior of your home, the throbbing in his temples making him stop and shut his lids, not needing to analyze the place he was at less than two weeks ago when you had called him over. Jungkook briefly wonders if he should sneak his way out, not used to waking up on the couch instead of in your bed right beside you, maybe he had said something last night that crossed the line and landed him on the couch as a punishment.

As you finally emerge from your room his plan of escape is put to a stop, his eyes gravitating towards your bedroom door, seeing the way you cautiously step out. Having heard Jungkook wake up since you had already been awake for the past hour, your body not allowing you to sleep while knowing he was in the other room, it took a few minutes of courage before you were able to face him.

Spotting him on your couch shows how much he doesn’t belong, the pinned leather jacket he wore looking so harsh against the light coloring of your furniture, his dark disheveled hair contrasting with the tidy way you organized your apartment. He senses it, the skin crawling sensation that spreads the longer you stare at him, how he felt so out of place somewhere he used to call home at one point.

“Thank you for picking me up.” He chooses to break the silence, voice raspy, his internal self screaming at him for always doing this. His eyes are sincere, genuinely meaning it, knowing just how messy he got when he had too much to drink, how his friends could never handle him when he crossed the line and began to call for you.

Like always his words were routine so he expects it when you huff and say, “You need better friends Jungkook.”

“I know.” Because he did, he knew his friends enabled him, riled him up and once he became too much they pushed him onto you, knowing Jungkook’s grip on you was still too strong for you to ever say no.

“What if I hadn’t picked you up? Would they have left you on the side of the bar to fend for yourself?”

“Probably,” he shrugs, from past experiences he knows very well they would have. His friends had dealt with Jungkook crying over you far too much, their patience fully stamped out, no longer able to tolerate him when he became like this.

Not even realizing when he begins to smile as he thought of the nights you didn’t pick up, how he had ended up in the most random locations because he refused to go home to a place you weren’t, he snaps out of it when you scoff. “It’s not funny Jungkook, you could have gotten hurt or something.”

There it was, the reason you were upset. Not because he had called you and spewed the same bullshit he always did, no that you could tolerate. You were upset, and worried, that you’d get a following call from someone stating he had injured himself while calling for you.

“I know.”

You pause to breathe, his short responses not irking you like it should, arms crossed over your chest as you observe your ex boyfriend still sitting on the couch, looking like a scolded child.

“You can’t call me anymore Jungkook.” How you have the nerve to say that to him is funny, acting as if ten days ago you weren’t the one doing this to him, telling him you missed him, securing your anchor around his foot and dragging him back under with you.

This is the checklist you needed to go down, a formality of the morning after so he doesn’t mind it. Instead he frowns at the way you continue to say his name, the way it rolls off your tongue makes him wince, missing the way you’d call him Kookie, playful pet names like Bunny, something he swore he hated but secretly loved. Jungkook wished he could hear you say it again, humor you with that damned bunny eared headband he’d wear to hear you laugh, squeal as he posed and dance for whatever silly video you recorded as you shouted out the ridiculous nickname.

The last time he heard those words spill out of your mouth had been too long ago.

“I’m sorry.” he admits, he knew he had to stop, couldn’t continue to hold onto the past, knowing how wrong you were for each other but he wasn’t the only one. Those were the same words you told him ten days ago, apologizing with guilty eyes for asking him to come over when you were lonely, needing a familiar body to occupy the space next to you, wanting his hands to soothe you, make you feel whole again just for a night.

Once the sun came up it was back to normal, the two of you having the repeat conversation you had every time, the exact one you were having now. A formality. Nothing more, just mindless words that you would both agree to just to move along, to make you both feel better, more secure with yourself until the next time the phone rang.

Your heart twists in your chest as you look at him, the same toxic love you had for him brewing in your heart, spilling over and burning you but you ignore the pain, convince yourself you don’t feel it as you breathe in. That same rope latches around Jungkook’s ankle as you avert your eyes for a brief second before looking back at him with a small sigh. “Do you want breakfast? I know how you get when you have a hangover.”

He smiles for the first time, charming as always, looking up at you through the subtle waves in his hair. “I probably shouldn’t.”

You know this. He definitely shouldn’t because breakfast will turn into words exchanged, civil at first, flirty the next, a coin flipped to decide if a petty argument would begin or if you’d reminisce about the good times. Regardless of the outcome, what always followed ended with you moaning out his name as he rocked into you, those same empty promises spilling through his lips that you swallowed with a kiss.

A brief moment of bliss, a small dose of the past that only serves to hurt you further but you crave it, loving the small rush that came with arguing, the roughness of his hands as he pushed you around before sliding home, burying his face into your neck as he broke you down all over again.

Normally you’d try to convince him further, but as your mouth opens to protest you get flashes of the night before, how you had carried Jungkook up your flight of stairs, hearing him ramble about nonsense so slurred together you paid it no mind. You would have had him sleep in your bed beside you like you always did but when you fish his phone out and begin to slide his jacket off it buzzes to life.

Always being nosey you type in his password, smiling when you realize it was still your old anniversary but when you unlock it and see a flood of messages from a girl named Natalie, calling him babe, asking where he was, the smile falls from your face as you start to snoop.

It doesn’t take much scrolling through their thread of messages to easily discover she was his girlfriend, blissfully unaware that he was shit faced and calling you, confessing to his love for you while she laid at home and wondered if he was having fun with his friends. She reminded you of yourself, of the way you used to be with him and it left a sour feeling on your tongue.

“Yeah you probably shouldn’t.”

He stands up now, following you slowly as you approach the door, heavy boots thumping on the hardwood as he reluctantly steps closer to the exit. He doesn’t want to leave, wants you to try to convince him to stay, not knowing that you knew the dirty secret he was hiding buried in his phone.

You don’t decide to tell him you know, it was pointless. That was just how Jungkook was wired, so much love to give he had to spread it out, give everyone a fair share of it, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being selfish. It was naive to believe it, to think all the love he held was strictly for you, it was why he was able to pull the hood over your eyes so easily.

Even when you pull the door open and give him a tightlipped smile he knows you’ll still call him, forget all about Natalie when you’re lonely once more. So when you look him in the eyes and sigh, “Goodbye Jungkook.” He knows it’s not for long, maybe a week or so, maybe less.

He simply smiles, stuffing his hands into his jeans as he shuffles out, turning to face you as he steps backwards. “See you later Y/N.” And his words sting in a way he doesn’t mean, knowing just how right he was.

Jungkook would never mind how heavy the anchor you hooked on his ankle was because he knew you would forever be a sucker for him.

As you shut the door behind you it feels like a small weight starts to hang from your shoulders, the same tug starting from your chest, guiding you into your room until you’re pulling out the cursed box and sorting through those damned photos. With stinging eyes you flip through them for a moment, focusing on all the laughs captured on film, blurry vision moving to your phone beside you, hands already itching to call him again.

It’s as if he knows, still inside your building, lingering in the lobby to give you a moment and it doesn’t take long. Once his phone starts to vibrate he smiles, staring at the photo of you as you call him like clockwork. With a clear of his throat he answers the phone, barely saying hello before he hears a small sniffle through the speaker.

“I miss you Kookie.”

Jungkook lets his eyes shut as he presses the elevator button, loving the feeling of being needed by you, already knowing to head back up because this was routine.

“I know you do baby, I’ll be right up.”

And just like that you’re once again desperately trying to make those stupid puzzle pieces fit together, hoping that maybe this time love would be enough.

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #heartsforbts #btsghostie #btswritingcafe #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #bts smut #bts angst #jeon jungkook #new

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reuinx · 3 years

Text

Red Lights (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You've been having a tough time lately. It's Yelena's goal to brighten up your day. The day takes the form of an afternoon spent in Yelena's car teasing, laughing, and singing. It looked like the day couldn't possibly get any better until tragedy struck.

Prompt by Anon ask: “Kissing your lover’s forehead as they’re dying in your arms but reader is dying please and thank you “

Word Count: 2,047

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood (Gore kept extremely minimal), tragic accident resulting in death.

Translations: Malishka (Baby), Dorogoy (Love)

Masterlist

Have you ever had those days when nothing goes right? You miss the bus, you say the wrong thing, you lose your temper, and you spend the rest of the day wondering what you could have done differently? It was one of those days. Using this logic, you are faced with a dilemma - you don't want to stay at home, but you don't want to stay alone either. You tentatively texted Yelena to see if she was free; she was. Summer heat caressed your exposed arms, leaving you with sun-kissed skin.

Despite the heat of the summer, you kicked pebbles across the ground like a child. The sound of her approaching car preceded your sight. The noise of her exhaust was followed by the blaring of Babooshka by the brilliant Kate Bush on her radio. Typical Yelena. She was driving her obnoxious yellow Ford Mustang; it was convertible. She made sure she knew that. It was her pride and joy, and she loved nothing more than it; well, she did love something more than that car, you.

Parking along the footpath, she had the roof down, and her blonde hair was flowing. While one hand was on the steering wheel, the other was hanging outside her window. In a pure white shirt, she exposed the muscles tense in her arm. Her sunglasses slowly slipped down the bridge of her nose as she peered over at you. She was undressing you with her eyes. She was chewing gum; she moved her lips slowly to match her motion.

“Still moody are we, Malishka?” Yelena called out from her car. The smile on her face was always devilish. Even though today didn't go as planned, you felt like it would be heaven on earth with Yelena.

“No”, You replied flatly as Yelena pushed her sunglasses back up to hide her eyes; she turned to face straight ahead of her as you made your way towards the car.

“I’m going to keep doing it until you admit you’re moody.”

“Keep doing wha-“ Before you could finish, She shoved her hand down on the horn as the already noisy auto began honking. Those who passed by started looking at the car with wonder. Redness flushed your face as you raced to the car.

“Yelena! Stop!”

“Mhm?”

“I’m not-“ You swiftly shook your head as the horn continued its outcry. She was stubborn, but so were you. She always won; there was no fighting with Yelena.

“I’m moody!” The moment you admitted it, she took her hand off the horn, resting her head back against the headrest as she stared up at you with a toothy grin.

“God, I hate you. You know that right?”

“Nah, you love me actually.” She was right about that. Yelena leaned across to open the door for you as you made your way to the passenger side. After entering, you shut the door behind you and automatically turned down the radio.

“Trying to go deaf are you?”

“Mhm?”

“I said are you trying to go deaf?”

“What?”

“I said- Oh forget it! Stop teasing me. I’m just looking after you!”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Feels like it sometimes, El.”

“Ha,” Yelena grumbled. Your laughter today was finally made possible because of Yelena's reaction. You were comforted by her. Talking to your person always made your worries go away. Yelena tutted and pulled your seatbelt into the latch plate as she leaned over your body, grasping your belt to make sure it was secure. Yelena put the car into gear as it began to move, the engine rumbling to life as she drove at the appropriate speed. She would never dream of speeding with you in the car.

“Do you want to talk about today?”

“No no, it was just one of those days.”

“Good, I don’t have to kill anyone...”

“No killing anyone.”

“Unless…”

“No”, You shushed her as you glanced at her with the corner of your eye; Yelena was smiling. She looked genuinely happy, which was a relief to you. She radiated happiness onto you; it was impossible to escape.

“It’s a beach day today.” The comment came from Yelena.

“Are you going to throw me in?”

“Actually… I’m still debating it.”

“What’s the pros and cons?”

“Con is that you’re pissed.”

“What’s the pro?”

“It will make you laugh.” You hadn't encountered anyone with the same kind of personality as her. Selflessness characterized her. Her heart was pure gold. Although she was tough, when her walls were broken, she became the softest person you'd ever met. It was easy to love her. She reached over for your hand; she took it in her hand before placing your hand on the clutch. To change gears, she held her hand yours, moving your hand in the desired direction. She was reluctant to let go but eventually cleared her throat to ask. Freeing your hand.

“Will you change the CD, Dorogoy?”

With ease, you opened the glovebox and located the CD binder. The 2000s saw a lot of popularity with these. Not now. Yelena's argument "It can fit so many CD's in it!" She wasn't wrong. It did. There was tons of CD's from all different genres in it. She bought CDs of the songs you played on your phone, not just the ones she liked. Even though she hid it from you, you started to notice when her binder began to fill up. You flicked through the CD’s until one caught your attention. As you saw a blank CD with writing on it, you paused. "For You" is spelled in Yelena's impeccable handwriting. While her eyes rested on the road, you turned to look at her, returning your focus to the CD. Yelena was smiling softly at you while you were busy changing CDs.

“You made this for me?”

“I did. I wanted to make you a playlist and well, there’s no Bluetooth so I did the best I can.”

“You’re too sweet. But… You do know downloading music and burning it on a CD is pretty illegal.”

“If your worrying over me downloading music, you should see what else I do” Yelena released a chuckle as the music played from the radio. You leaned over as you adjusted the volume up as the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac came through.

“I know you like them wood people”, Yelena murmured under her breath. Suddenly, you felt the excitement in your stomach rise. What else was on this CD? We get so caught up in the big things when we fall in love with someone. The little things are always the most important. You weren't just going to sing; you were going to perform as well. As you sang at the top of your lungs, you began to sway in your chair.

“And if you don't love me now -“ Your hand clenched as if it was holding an invisible microphone as you held it to Yelena’s lips. She smiled, licking her lips as she finished the lyric.

“You will never love me again.” She sang without hesitation, and while her voice is usually harsh, it was smooth and soft this time. When you heard her singing, you burst into laughter and clapped your hands in glee. The music picked up, and your hands moved with the lyrics. You didn't miss a word. Yelena was beginning to tap with the beat of the song on the steering wheel, laughing at how passionate you had gotten.

“I could listen to you forever.”

“Unlucky for you, you have forever with me”, You chirped out as Yelena frowned, turning her head quickly to glance at you.

“Why would that make me unlucky?”

“I’m a pain in the ass.”

“True but you’re my pain in the ass” She sounded more and more sincere with every word she said. Your singing continued unabated. As soon as the next red light came on, Yelena slowed her car down to a stop. It was now possible to see the beach. You were too busy performing for nobody to notice that Yelena was watching you. When she saw you happy, her eyes glowed with childhood excitement. All she wanted was for you to be satisfied. Because you were focused on the big things like the beach, you missed the little things like how Yelena looked at you. Anyone would kill for the kind of look she gave you. Yelena’s expression suddenly changed when you looked at her, her face filled with horror. She wasn’t making a face at you but something behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, everything went black. You lost all sense of time and purpose of self. Feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness, you thought it overtake you. You felt alone. Yelena? Where was Yelena? Was Yelena okay? Had you fallen asleep? There was a noticeable pressure in your chest, almost as if it was being squeezed. You felt your lips tingle, and your lungs fill with air.

"Hey!" A distorted voice echoed inside your head, and you couldn't understand what was being said or even who it was?

"Wake up! Please wake up!" It was beginning to become more legible until a voice broke through the silence.

"Malishika!" Yelena, it was Yelena.

The world was blurry as your eyes snapped open. As you blinked rapidly, flashing lights obscured your view of the figure above you.

"Stay with me, stay with me please." You now knew what the pressure on your chest was; Yelena had been pressing hard and fast on the center of your chest. It was her rescue breaths that tingled your lips. The haze in your vision was clearing as you could see Yelena. It was evident from her face that she had been crying. Spikes of blood could be seen on her face as sweat ran down her forehead. It wasn't her blood. It was yours.

In your disorientation, you did not know where you were. You were lying on the road when you suddenly remembered being in the car. Your eyes focused on Yelena's car as you tilted your head to look past her. Now you know what Yelena saw behind you. As you were sitting on the passenger side, a car ploughed straight into you through the red light. Yelena must have rescued you from the wreck. With growing dizziness and fatigue, your eyes began to flicker shut. The feeling of Yelena grasping your cheeks caused your eyes to dart open.

"Don't you dare close your eyes on me. I've lost everyone, I can't lose you too. I just can't. Please. Please don't go anywhere.. Just stay. Please just stay. I need you, god I need you. Please." She was begging you, pleading with you. The moment you tried to move, your body refused to react; you were powerless. With one hand on your stomach, she firmly grasped it. It was now clear that her previously pristine white t-shirt was heavily stained red. You felt queasy thinking that was yours.

"Hey, I'm okay. I'm okay baby. It's okay." You managed to whisper out as your voice was weak.

"It's not okay, it's really not okay. I don't know what to do! I can't stop the bleeding" Yelena's voice was firm, her jaw extending with the words she spoke as she tried to contain herself. She sobbed, her eyes flicking upward.

"It's okay, El. You can stop. Just stop."

"Don't fucking say that, don't ever fucking say that. You aren't going anywhere, you aren't. This is not a goodbye! Don't give me that bullshit. The paramedics will be here soon, they will! " She snapped.

"Baby, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Yelena? Do you hear me? "I love you. I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I love you. God, I love you. Don't forget that, you hear me?" Yelena dipped her head down as she slowly pressed her lips against your forehead. She placed her free hand into your locks of hair as she slowly began to run her fingers through the strands of your hair.

"Baby?" She called out one last time. Your eyes locked onto her green eyes, admiring them one last time. The world around you faded to grey; the last thing you heard was Yelena's scream.

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novamirmirsblog · 3 years

Text

FwB minor safe

THIS IS SAFE FOR MINORS. and by minors I mean 15+ cause there's still some kissy kissy and implied sex. AND SWEARING. Seriously tho, no under 15s reading this.

When you had first met Natasha, she hated you. Or at least that’s what it seemed like. She ignored you, refused to train with you, and when she did train with you, you always ended up in the medical bay, and she always, always had something to say when you came back from a mission. You had really hoped to at least had a friendly acquaintance with the other woman on the team. You always had Wanda but she was often pining after a certain red synthezoid. You only realised Natasha wanted to be friends when Clint let it slip that she was like a cat. He was clearly sick and tired of the two of you constantly fighting and wanted it to end. Or perhaps it was Steve who finally wanted it to stop. It didn’t really matter who because now you had a way in.

Your friend’s grandmother used to rescue stray cats and while Natasha certainly wasn’t a cat, you figured the same rules applied. First, you would make extra food when you knew she would be there, telling her there were leftovers if she wanted them but never pressuring her into eating with you. Then, you slowly began just sitting in the same room as her, always a distance away from her so as to not make her uncomfortable. Eventually she began to warm up to you, even going as far as letting you sit on the same sofa as her.

Things all changed one night when Natasha came back from a mission gone wrong. She had been given bad information and the data she was supposed to collect wasn’t there. She was pissed. Steve called you into the lounge and told you to stay out of her way if you valued your life. It made you slightly nervous. The two of you were friends but you weren’t that close. Not close enough to know for sure whether or not she would hurt you. Everyone retreated to their rooms and locked their doors, not wanting to be in the way of an angry Black Widow. Because that’s who was coming back. Black Widow, not Natasha Romanoff.

You couldn’t sleep that night so when you saw a figure enter your room, it scared you shitless. You grabbed the gun from under your pillow and pointed it at the figure.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“That’s kinky babe and maybe we should revisit that idea but right now I want to fuck you senseless.” Natasha - no the Black Widow’s voice spoke out in the dark. It was that kind of muffled sound that you only heard in the depths of the night when no one else was awake.

You lowered your gun but didn’t take the safety off. Just in case.

“There’s no need to be nervous darling. I’ve seen the way you act around me.” Natasha walked towards where you were on the bed, leaning down and lifting you by your chin up to her lips. “Just tell me to stop and I will.”

You moaned as Natasha’s lips connected to your neck, roughly sucking and biting her way to your collarbones. She leaned you back and wrapped a hand around your neck as she looked at you. Even in the darkness, you could see how black her pupils were and feel how heavy her breathing was.

“I need you to understand that this doesn’t change anything. We are still just friends.”

"I understand." You leant up to kiss her but she just laughed as she pushed you down and kissed you harder, leaving you alone once she had finished playing with you.

Nights like that became routine between the two of you. If either of you had a bad mission, or were just feeling lonely, you would end up in your bed. It was never Natasha's bed and most of the time Natasha was in control. Occasionally however, if you had a particularly bad mission or Natasha had seen unspeakable things, she would relinquish control and you would savour every minute of it. Perhaps if the two of you were dating, you would be able to have control more- no you couldn't think like that. It was a dark hole that you couldn't go down.

Somewhere between the rough nights and the friendly movie nights the two of you had, you had fallen for the fiery woman. Natasha made sure that you always remembered that it was just a 'friends with benefits' arrangement by never sleeping in your bed. It was a tricky balance for her though because she would cuddle you all the time during the day. It was almost as if she regretted sleeping with you.

The friendly flirting between the two of you drove the team absolutely crazy. It was like everyone except you two could see how perfect you were for each other. You just fit together. Yet whenever they asked either of you about it, you both denied it vehemently with a sad look in your eyes. The team had had enough. They were done with the two of you fucking, flirting and then crying yourselves to sleep when you both realised you didn't have the relationship you wanted.

It was Wanda's brilliant idea to have a game night. She had watched a sitcom where the characters played truth or dare and confessed their love for each other.

"I'm not so sure that will work witchy." Tony said after Wanda had finished explaining her plan. "Maybe we should play 7 minutes in heaven or spin the bottle."

"Why? How is that better than my plan? All they do is suck each other's faces off. We need them to admit their feelings for each other." Wanda stood up, slightly defensive over her plan.

"I...I think I have a better idea." Steve spoke up and everyone turned to look at him. "How about we kidnap Y/n? Y/n wont believe us if we tell her Natasha loves her and Natasha isn't going to admit it over a game of truth or dare. If we kidnap Y/n and stress Natasha out a little, then she might finally admit she loves Y/n."

The room was silent. "Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you" Clint muttered, causing the rest of the room to break out into a slightly nervous laughter.

"When's Y/n's next mission?"

~~~~~

You were sent out on a routine solo mission. It was something a lower level agent could have easily done but you were happy to get out and away from the compound for a bit. You loved your family but their constant questions about Natasha were getting too much. It was a constant reminder that you guys weren't in a relationship at all. The more you thought about it, the more you tried to convince yourself that a relationship wasn't even what you wanted. You had been on a few dates since your arrangement with Natasha had begun, mostly to throw her off the scent of your growing crush. However, when you returned from your failed date (because they always failed), Natasha was always there to fuck you hard and rough. Sure, she would leave it a few days, distancing herself as much as possible, sometimes completely ignoring you, but she would always come back. The mission was complete and you were making your way back to the Quinjet, too distracted in your thoughts of Natasha to realise someone was creeping up behind you. You were knocked out cold.

When you came to, you were in an abandoned warehouse, tied to a chair. It was all very James Bond like. You tried to look around, but everything seemed blurry.

"I can't believe you hit her so damn hard!" You heard a voice ring out.

"I didn't mean to! Oh my god she's going to kill me." A deeper voice, probably male, spoke.

The voices sounded kind of familiar but you couldn't work out where from.

"Natasha, we found her!" that was the last thing you heard before passing out again.

"I am going to murder whoever did this to you Y/n." Natasha told you as she carried you to medical. She refused to let anyone else touch you and didn't let you out of her sight for one second.

The usually fearless avengers all froze and turned slightly pale. They were 100% going to blame this all on Steve. If anyone had a chance of surviving the Black Widow, it was a super soldier and besides, it was Steve who had knocked you out. Bucky had told him not to use his shield to do it.

You awoke to find yourself in a hospital bed with a very concerned Natasha holding your hand. You gave it a little squeeze and smiled at her.

"Never ever ever do that again. Do you understand me? I thought I lost you..."

"It's okay Tash, I'm fine." In that moment it was so hard to remember that the two of you were just friends, that you would never be anything more than friends.

"Date me."

"What?" You were stunned and not completely sure you hadn't just hallucinated.

"I can't do this friends with benefits thing anymore. I know I was the one who said it was nothing more but I think I'm falling for you Y/n. Do you know why I was so distant with you to begin with?"

"Because you're a cat?"

Natasha smiled, she couldn't even bring herself to laugh she was so nervous. "No Y/n. It was because I really liked you. You walk into the compound all happy and beautiful and I dont know what to do. We would spar and I would get weird tingly feelings wherever you were touching me and it made me confused. I tried so hard to stay away from you but then you started leaving me food, or sitting with me, or trying to make jokes and I just couldn't stay away. When you didn't come back to me on time, I was so scared. I thought you were dead. When we found you..." She ran her hand through her hair, her other hand never letting go of yours. "The relief I felt nearly made me fall to my knees. I understand if this ruins our friendship but I really can't continue on just being your friend. I think... I think I love you." Natasha whispered that last part so quietly you almost missed it.

"I would love nothing more than to date you Natasha. I was so worried that I was reading too much into things and that my feelings were wrong and would ruin everything. It's why I dated other people for a bit."

"Well good. How about we-" Natasha was cut off by an announcement from F.R.I.D.A.Y.

"Considering agent y/l/n is up, Mr Stark request's both your presence in the lounge."

When the two of you made it to the lounge, hand in hand, they all clapped. Natasha scowled and held on tighter to your hand and you just laughed.

"Why did you call us here?" You asked

"Well, the thing is, we don't want to be murdered so we're really hoping you'll stop Natasha from doing anything drastic."

"What did you do." Natasha let out lowly, she knew you shouldn't be up and about, that it was better for you to rest until you were feeling completely better again so she wanted this over as quickly as possible.

"Well...-"

"IT WAS STEVE'S IDEA!" Wanda blurted out. "I just wanted to play truth or dare but nooo. Stars and Stripes over here wanted to make things all dramatic." Wanda waved her hands in the air.

"What was Steve's idea?" You asked, still a little slow on the uptake. Natasha wasn't though. You could feel her becoming tense and you held her hand a little tighter.

"...The kidnaping..." The team hung their heads in shame, trying to simultaneously look at their shoes and keep an eye on Natasha.

The room was completely silent before you burst out laughing. "You're kidding me? You actually kidnaped me just so Natasha would admit her feelings for me? Guys I'm dying." You wheezed as you tried to catch your breath from laughing so hard.

Natasha however, didn't find it nearly as funny.

"Natty, darling, it's fine. They did it because they care." You whispered into her ear, leading her out the room before someone could get easily injured. Getting blood out of carpets was a pain.

"Your days are numbered Super Soldier. I'm coming for you." she said, watching as Steve's face turned completely white before turning and leaving the room with you.

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #black widow x you #black widow

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bvccy · 3 years

Note

Friend, if you are still open for request, can you please do Heliotrope with the Winter Soldier? 🥺 please thank you 💛💛💛

My dear 😭 I am so so sorry for how long this took! I just hope you can enjoy the fic. It’s a little bit spooky at the beginning, but WS is soft and so is our reader. And they get their happy-ever-after 💗

Thank you very much for this prompt also! 🌺🌺🌺

— PAIRING: soft!Winter Soldier x female!Reader — PROMPT: Heliotrope - walking in the sun, and losing each other — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

They had been living in darkness for months, and the oppressive cold that battered against the walls with fierce winds all day, and hungry howls at night — not that one could tell night from day in the sunless vastness, except by the ticking of the clock.

Hydra had installed that arctic facility at the mouth of a crater, covered by ice over the ages to conceal its dubious treasure. It was clear to the Soldier that the treasure was not made up of precious things, but it was only when the crew finished digging all the way down that he understood why all the scientists were there...

It was difficult for him to tell who the shuttle belonged to. It might have been some advanced technology from America, but then how did it get so deep down, so quickly? Maybe it was an old German prototype from the war, but it didn't look like any he'd seen before. Or maybe Hydra was just recovering their old property from past attempts... It didn't matter, he was just there to guard the scientists while they did the work.

The other soldiers stationed with him stopped taking the job seriously after the first three months, but he kept watch, and paid attention, and didn't miss the odd slimes that seeped across the floor out of those metal shells, nor the odd crunch as the scientists cut into something that looked soft and milky, but held like bone. And the smells, the cold metallic smells like iron dipped in silver... It sometimes felt like home, but he knew better than to let that grip him. And he kept watch.

The one chemist that doubled as the chef didn't make particularly good meals, but they were hearty, and if he was being honest, he was eating better at this isolated station than he did at the Base — felt freer too, almost in charge of his destiny, if one didn't count the frozen wastes he'd have to survive if he ever wanted to run. But the Soldier couldn't imagine why he'd ever wish to run.

Especially when she was here.

Studying the files of all the scientists on the mission, her portrait stood out as particularly sad, morose, with a bit of a death glare toward the cameraman. But when he actually saw her, she seemed sweet like a spring day and even happy to be there. She looked up into his eyes as she walked into the protected area to study their find, blinking up from beneath a mess of furs and protective equipment, but there was a smile crinkling around her gaze. As the months drew on and everyone got more bored with staying there, and loose with themselves, they'd sometimes play some music in the lab, and the Soldier didn't know why he liked it so much or felt the need to dance with someone.

The military staff initially had their own mess hall, a small room with a kitchenette where they could eat together, but then one of the doctors needed it to test the effects of temperature changes on some of the samples, and the place was... contaminated every since. Now, they all ate together. The girl who'd caught his eye tended to eat with her own team, the Geologists, but he could feel her looking at him sometimes, he noticed her lingering when he was around even if she was about to leave, and a few times she even dared approach him — under the excuse of getting the jar of sugar that was on his other side rather than reaching for the one next to her, or leaning down to get some plate she didn't need from right by his knees. It wasn't until she tried to reach a glass above his head, beyond her grasp, that he gave in and acknowledged her.

"Thank you," she said as he handed her the cup — the first time she'd ever said anything to him. Her voice suited her, but beyond its soft tones the Soldier was struck by being thanked at all. When was the last time that happened? What did one say in response?

"You're welcome?"

And he seemed so unsure saying it that he made her giggle.

She was inevitable after that, not because she was trying to be found but because he allowed himself to be around her, to guard her door while she chipped at stones and studied them, to sit near her during lunch — not right beside her, the Soldier still had a lingering shyness about that, but at least on the table opposite, from which they could look at each other if they wanted.

The long night was almost over, four months into their stay at this forsaken place, and the pair had taken to something really dangerous: in the small barn attached to the base, where some dry supplies were kept along with canisters of fuel, they escaped together while everyone else slept. He had led her there first, asking timidly whether she'd...

"Want to see something new?"

"Always," the girl grinned.

And so they found themselves piled on top of one another like firewood, almost not feeling each other beneath the layers of fur that kept them warm, but just being in each other's presence was... something. It was quiet without being quiet, with another real soul there, thinking its own thoughts in harmony with you.

The Asset wouldn't allow himself to fall asleep, though he did close his eyes sometimes and let the girl relax against him, and doze off, and during those times he allowed his arm to come down from where it propped his head up and wrap itself around her, holding her still — as if she were in danger of falling off some imaginary bed.

Nobody ever seemed to wonder where they both disappeared to, nobody noticed, which was why he was all the more surprised to hear shouting on that day. The Soldier didn't move, just tightened his arm around his little partner more. But when a bloodcurdling cry echoed through the vastness, he shook her awake.

"Wha—"

"Get up. The base is under attack," he muttered, reaching for the rifle laid beside him.

"That's crazy, who would attack us all the way out here?"

He didn't want to tell her what he thought, but only made her hide out in the shed while he went out to scout the area. Turning his radio on, nothing came through. There were no helicopters around, no trucks, no marks in the snow that anyone had attacked — at least, not from the outside. On the horizon, just the rays of a reluctant dawn were shining.

There was silence for a while, and then another symphony of screams rang out, muffled by the walls and the desperate shots of whoever was left inside, glass and metal knocked over, broken, and silence once again. Stepping away slowly, then more hurriedly, the Soldier returned to where he'd left the girl and picked her up by the elbow.

"Come on, we're leaving."

"Leaving where?" she cried out, confused and even slightly angry. "What's going on?"

"We're under attack."

"But our research..."

The Soldier dragged her to where the trucks were parked, and after the first flush of confusion she went along quietly. He gave her the rifle to hold while he looked in the back, making sure they had enough supplies for whatever drive awaited them — gas was there, some blankets too, and more ammunition. It would have to do. And without sparing another moment, he got in beside her and drove off. Against the rumbling of the engine as it drifted on the ice, a shrill scream cut through the frozen air and reached them, not sounding human nor animal nor like anything in the world, except perhaps a demon. The girl didn't look back, she wouldn't dare, she just looked quietly at the Soldier as she slowly understood. They drove into the sunrise as its rays burned away everything behind, and the snowdrifts buried it.

They didn't stop until the sky was bright as a midday, many hours later.

"Are we slowing down?" the girl mumbled sleepily.

"We're nearing a town," he said, eyes on the GPS. "Need to check that the road is clear. And that we are, too."

She stretched the shivers from her bones, but deep down she trusted the Soldier to keep them safe.

Getting out in what-felt-like days, frozen stiff, muscles aching from the shot of fear that penetrated down to her bones, the girl got out and reached for the sky with all she had. The air felt freer and fresher than ever before, even though it still hurt her lungs when it reached to their very bottom, but she loved such a pain — it felt like life.

The Asset walked slowly to her, just watching silently and smiling a half-smile at the sight of her all ruffled and soft, and safe.

"What do you think happened to the base?"

"Guess it's a mess by now," he hummed, bringing one gloved hand to feel around her head, her shoulders, down her arms, but always gently.

"We woke that thing up, didn't we?"

"You're the smart one, you tell me."

Her lips pursed — she never liked it when he teased her, but she tried never to reproach him for it, loving this sign of his personality shining through. "Are we far enough away now?"

"I don't know," he sighed, finally looking back into her eyes. "Are we?"

"The sun would kill it."

"How do you know that?"

She didn't answer but wouldn't look away either, and her determined gaze was enough for him. She did know more than he did, she'd spent months studying whatever that was, and that was fine by him. So long as none of it had managed to sneak on board.

"Stay close to me."

They walked around the car together and he checked the back, the wheels, then climbed on top and checked there too. Through the clearness of the day, he could even see the edges of a road that must've lead to that town. The car seemed clean, but they were close enough to a rescue that he'd rather not take any risks, and so picking up just a few useful things and one backpack, they started walking.

The snow got less deep and crunched beneath their boots, the wind was gentler downhill and even moved through the tendrils loosened from their hoods, shaking off the frost. In the distance, one tree stood tall, thin and dark and barren but alive, and over all of them the sun kept shining.

"We're almost at the road," said the Soldier, spotting a black snaking line a few meters ahead. He turned his head when he didn't hear anything back, but there was only the glint of sunlight on the snow.

Amorphous fog covered the horizons, and hills and dales of white, and suddenly the light felt very hot and burned his body as he turned frantically around and called for her. With mad fear, he traced back their steps up the snowy hill, nearly swimming through it as he called for her, terrified of the unthinkable.

Then, as if from the sea, a lone hand reached up and waved at him. Within one breath, he'd reached her, sitting in the snow just a few feet away.

"I'm so tired..." she huffed, burrowing like a rabbit. "Can't we rest a while?"

"You didn't rest enough in the car? Get up," he grumbled, pulling her up to her feet. He regretted snapping as soon as he saw her sad little face, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I was worried."

"I'm sorry too, for being so weak..."

Before thinking, he pulled her in and kissed the snow off her mouth. "None of that," he smiled as their lips parted. "Come on, we're so close. I'll carry you a bit if you want."

The girl shook her head mutely, face already flushed from frost but now truly heated. To be cared for, and worried about, and searched like that, and kissed... It put the life right back into her.

He kept his word and carried her in his arms at one point, but they both walked in the town together. Nobody knew who they were or where they came from and some had a few murmured questions, but by the time Hydra sent an extraction team for them, it didn't matter — they were gone, lost in the wind like two rays of sunshine.

#wint3r-h3art #Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Barnes #Winter Soldier #Sebastian Stan #marvel #mcu #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #Sebastian Stan fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #Winter Soldier fanfiction #Winter Soldier imagine #Winter Soldier x reader #bv;fanfiction #bv;oneshots #bv;answers

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high-supernatural · 3 years

Text

Memories

Kai Parker x Female Reader/Character

Word Count: 1918

Warnings: typical tvd themes, S.Assault hints, crying, soft kai, a lil boob touching, Stephan drives her off a bridge

Summary: She finds out the real story of what happened to her after a near-death experience. Kai agrees to comfort her in her own way.

(I wrote this with “she/her” instead of “V” because this is the last part I’ll be writing as a series, the rest will be written as one shot’s with she/her pronouns because if I continue to work on the series it’ll become an entire novel. So instead of writing a novel, I’ll just write the big plot points as one shots after this)

Another couple of weeks had passed since their ritual. Almost every day that would pass, they would go out and look for answers for what they saw and would come up empty handed.

One day they finally found something that could lead them to another lead for answers – an ancient necklace that was owned by a witch in her distant bloodline that could allow her to connect with the original owner. The only problem was that the necklace was worn religiously around Elena’s neck as a gift from Stephan.

That wasn’t really a problem for her. She didn’t really like Elena much, and Elena didn’t like her, but it wasn’t hard to get close enough to grab it since they both hung out with the same people.

That’s exactly what she did. She kept it with her for a week, waiting for a specific celestial event to happen for the spell all while dodging calls from Stephan and Elena accusing her of taking it.

She took to the woods by herself on the night before the celestial event to find the perfect spot under the moon to preform it. Just as she was about to make her way off the trail she was struck by a tranquilizing dart in her neck, knocking her out cold.

She woke up in the passenger seat of Stephan’s car, “oh, good, you’re up,” he said shutting his phone off.

Her vision was blurry, but she knew who it was and was annoyed to say the least.

“Have you seen Elena’s necklace?” He asked as if he already knew.

She blinked to focus her vision, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she rubbed her eyes.

Stephan leaned in, “here’s what’s gonna happen… you’re either going to tell me where it is, hand it over, or I’m going to hold you here until you do.”

“You’re really about to do all this for a damn necklace?” she asked, still very annoyed.

They went back and forth for a while about how it’s “Elena’s necklace,” and how crazy Stephan was to host a hostage situation over it before he turned the car on, “ok, you don’t wanna tell me where it is, fine,” he slammed on the gas, “you’ve been a cosmic pain in everyone’s ass since you showed up in Mystic Falls by the way. We’re trying to rid the town of chaos and mischief and here you come…”

Stephan was driving at what seemed to be over 100 miles an hour with a crazy look in his eye, “so nobody wants to tell me where it is, I’ll drive you off the bridge and find it myself,” he spat.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t drive someone off a bridge over a damn necklace, Stephan, plus if I do have it, you’d be losing your chance to get it back if you do,” she said unphased by his threat.

“That’s only if nobody wants to tell me. It’s really no sweat off my back if you live or die but… hey maybe Kai knows where it is,” he said as if he had just thought of the most iconic solution and dialed Kai’s phone.

As they approached the bridge, she began to take his threat more seriously. All she heard was muffled noises as adrenaline of being driven off a bridge kicked in.

She yelled panicked knowing Kai was on the phone, “Kai just tell him where the stupid necklace is he’s gonna drive me off the bridge.”

“Too late,” Stephan muttered with a smirk as the car flew into the water after he jumped out.

She tried to roll her window down before the car hit the water and was fully submerged, but Stephan had the window locks on, so she had to crawl over to the driver’s side to roll it down, throwing her against the wind shield and knocking her unconscious again as she got the window halfway down.

Just like the time she held her breath and an unknown entity came over her when she rescued Enzo, the same thing happened here. While she was unconscious the car fully submerged into the water for minutes until the entity awoke her and struggled to break the window open through the slowness of the water.

She remembered none of this. She awoke on the rocks only remembering being driven off the bridge and a replay of the things that had happened to her that Kai made her forget.

She sat there coughing up water and trying to catch her breath as the replays engrained themselves deeper. She knew she couldn’t deal with it right now though, she needed to get back to the motel for the necklace, so she started walking her way back to the road.

She walked expressionless until Kai drove up beside her and got out,

“What happened,” he asked throwing his hands up as he walked towards her.

“I don’t know, Stephan threw a fit about the necklace and thought it was reasonable to drive me and his car off the bridge,” she said silent and expressionless, darting her eyes not to look into Kai’s.

Kai looked at her, realizing that for the first time in probably forever, he was pissed about something because it had happened to somebody he cares about, but he still didn’t know what to say other than, “well, are you okay,” silently kicking himself for asking after he realized how big what happened was compared to the question he asked.

“Yeah, I just wanna get back,” she mumbled and went to open the door, but Kai grabbed it quicker.

She was silent the whole way back, something that was unusual for her normally.

They drove into the parking lot of their motel and Kai stopped her before she could open the door by grabbing her arm, “hey, are you good,” he asked, “you didn’t say anything the entire way back and you love to talk.”

She was still expressionless, “I’m good, I just need a minute,” her voice was almost robotic.

“Talk to me…” Kai tried to speak but was cut off.

“I’m about to freak out, and it’s not gonna be cute,” she spoke with a little more seriousness to her robotic tone, “so just give me a minute,” she began to walk towards their room.

He had never seen her like this before. They would usually make jokes the whole night whenever something that would typically be traumatic happened, but this time she seemed as though she was here physically but elsewhere mentally.

She made a beeline to the bathroom before Kai called out “let me know if I can do any—” she shut the door, “—thing.”

She stood at the sink and placed her hands on it to steady her balance as things began to look blurry and lightheaded. She tried rubbing her eyes to make the feeling go away but it kept getting stronger as her chest felt heavier, head felt heavier, and memories of that night months before screamed at her.

Kai leaned on the doorframe to hear what was going on but couldn’t hear anything.

She stood, taking deep breaths before it got increasingly harder to breath and gave into the onset hyperventilation and inevitable tears.

Kai knocked but she didn’t answer so he opened the door to find her with her hands in her hair, breathing fast, with a concerned expression.

She didn’t even hear him walk in at first until she felt a presence behind her as he went to touch her arm. She sat on her knees slowly before Kai could touch her, “Kai I can’t breathe,” he sat on his knees in front of her and put his hand on her head, unsure of what to say.

Grabbing his wrist to pull his hand into her lap, gripping it tightly she put her other hand on her chest and coughed, “I can’t breathe…. Why can’t I breathe…” she let the tears fall before placing her arms over her head and leaned forward until she was leaning against her elbows on the floor so she could catch her breath without having Kai see her cry.

Kai gripped her shoulders and pushed her up to look at him. She covered her mouth with one hand and squeezed her eyes tight, trying to return back to the position he moved her from before he stopped her by keeping his hands on her shoulders, “tell me what happened,” he spoke softly, gently removing the hand she had over her mouth.

“I remembered everything—” she sobbed harder and put her hand back over her mouth, leaning into Kai, “tell me it didn’t really happen,” she sobbed.

Kai knew what she was talking about now and pulled her to lean against the wall with her head on his chest as she sobbed more.

“Tell me I’m making stuff up, or that Stephan has sick humor, tell me someth—” she couldn’t finish her sentence before burying her face back into Kai.

He stared at the wall in front of him as if he could feel what she was feeling, “I can’t,” he whispered, causing her sobs to get louder,

“That couldn’t have happened… I wouldn’t have let that happen… it couldn’t have been me, maybe I just witnessed—”

He wrapped his arms tightly around her as she hid her face in her hands on his chest, “it did, V… I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you different… I’m sorry…” he had a look of remorse as she moved her hand to her scalp as if to cover her ears from what he was saying and placed his hand in her hair with her.

“I gave you different memories, I didn’t want you to remember but something must have triggered it earlier…” he spoke fast and buried his forehead onto the top of her head when she kept sobbing harder, “I should’ve been there…”

“What do you need me to do? Tell me and I’ll do it, anything… let me make it better,” he rubbed his hand on her back to comfort her, but she was too lost in her mind to notice, “you can’t make it better,” she cried.

He sat with her and let her cry until she couldn’t anymore before taking her to their bed.

She pulled his arm as she laid down or else, he wouldn’t have know if he should lay beside her or not. This whole situation was completely new to him, and he only wanted to make it better but had no idea how.

She laid on her side and pulled his arm around her for comfort.

Kai buried his face in her hair by her ear, “what can I do?” he asked again.

“Make me feel something else…” she teared up again.

“What do you mean?” he whispered and rubbed his hand on her upper arm.

“All I can feel is their hands on me and I cant get rid of it,” she choked up, “so maybe if I feel yours instead—” she placed her hand over her face to avoid crying again.

“shh… it’s okay,” Kai whispered surprisingly sweet and kissed her hair, “where do you want ‘em?”

She lifted herself up to place an arm under her neck, laying her head in the crease of his arm and slid the other to her chest.

She fell asleep as Kai gently rubbed from her chest to her stomach repeatedly, occasionally kissing her hair in between.

#kai parker #kai parker x reader #kai parker x you #kai parker imagine #kai parker fluff #kai parker series #kai parker smut #malachai parker #tvd #tvd au #tvd fanfiction #tvd series

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vdlest · 3 years

Text

Lost & Found

Characters:

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary:

Nearly three years ago, the Avengers lost in a battle for humanity. They lost because of Thanos. Half of the planet vanished in thin air and only God knows what happened to them. Surprisingly, you received a call from Nat telling you that Tony Stark is safely back in the compound with the help of Captain Marvel. But you get another surprise when Nat tells you that Bucky did not vanished three years ago, he was with Tony this whole time.

Warning:

None

You rushed to the compound the after you received the call from Natasha. You drove all the way from your apartment to the compound, not minding the time and not minding that you’re wearing a slippers.

The moment you arrived in the compound, you run inside and saw everyone in the conference room.

“Y/n,” Steve said when he saw you.

Natasha, Carol, and Rhodes turn their heads to see you. Natasha stood up and walked towards you. She grabbed your hand and you gave him the questioning look, she already knows what it means. She gave you a smile and pulled you towards her to give you a hug.

“Nat, let’s take y/n to him,” you looked over Natasha’s shoulder and saw Steve giving you a smile as well, “We all know she misses him as much as I do.”

Almost three years ago, everyone mourned for what happened when Thanos snapped his fucking fingers. Half of the planet are gone. The team weren’t able to locate and find where Tony is, not until today. You thought Bucky was one of the people who turned into dust, but Natasha told you that Bucky was with Tony and Nebula wandering the universe all along. Their spaceship was broken and there’s no other way they could contact anyone, it was a good thing Captain Marvel saw them floating in God knows where, and she brought them home.

You, Steve, and Nat walked along the hallway. While walking, the three of you passed by the room where Tony is.

You entered the room and saw Tony in a bed, resting with Pepper on his side. You felt so happy upon seeing them reunite. Pepper used to call you and you’ll cry with her as both of you misses the loves of your lives. She’ll always check up on you and from time to time she’ll come by your place and bring you some food.

“Pep,” you called her and when she saw you, her eyes were filled with tears. Joy maybe. She rushed towards you ang gave you a hug.

You felt her longing for Tony. You felt that kind of longing as well for Bucky.

Before your fight with Thanos, Bucky told you how much he loves you, but you weren’t able to tell him you feel the same way, and you regretted it since then. You regret that you weren’t able to tell him how much you love him too.

When your hug with Pepper ended, she walked you towards Tony, who is still sleeping ang gaining some energy.

“According to him,” you heard Steve talked behind you, “He and Bucky were the only ones left when everyone disappeared. Bucky was wounded, and so was he. But he chose to give the remaining sedatives to Bucky.”

You can’t help but feel touched with what Steve said. It’s not a secret that Tony and Bucky are not in good terms, knowing that the Winter Soldier killed Tony’s parents. But despite what happened, Tony chose to helped Bucky.

You reached for Tony’s hand and gave it a squeeze, “Thank you, Tony,” that’s all you could say right now, but you’ll definitely thank him again once he gain his consciousness.

Pepper’s hands are in your shoulder as she gave it a squeeze, “Y/n, you should go to the next room. He’s waiting for you,” she whispered.

You turned around to see Steve and Natasha leading you to the next room.

Steve opened the door and you immediately saw the man lying down on the bed. You haven’t seen him in three years, but you know nothing has changed. The longing you felt for three years wear out as you see him lying down, eyes closed, but you know he’s waiting and longing for you as well.

“What happened to his hair?” you immediately asked upon realizing that he should’ve a longer hair than before, since he was out in the universe wandering without anything.

You turned to Nat and saw him smiling, “Well, apparently, the jet they got stuck in was Peter Quill’s. Half human, half I don’t know. So that explains the new look of this guy,” she explained. “When Carol put them down, Bucky is unconscious. He’s barely breathing but we were able stabilize him, so he’s fine now. He’s just regaining his strength. All his wounds are checked.”

Steve tapped your shoulder, “We’ll leave you with him. I know you want to make up for the time you lost,” he said before he and Nat left the room, shutting the door behind you.

You walked towards him and you cannot understand what you’re feeling right now. Happy, half yes, half no. Bucky came back to you. Tony is back as well. But nothing has changed, half of the planet is still missing. You feel sorry for the people who lost their loved ones because of Thanos.

There’s a chair beside the bed where Bucky is lying, you sat down there and stared at man who just came across the universe. You remember that Bucky used to tell you that he wants to travel the universe, to see the other planets, he did anyway.

You held his hand and you finally started to talk to the man you missed for three years, “Did you know why it made me so sad not seeing you for so long? It’s because I didn’t got the chance to tell you that I feel the same way for you, the same feelings you have for me. I was about to tell you that I love you too, but then Thanos happened.” You rested your elbows on the side of the bed as you hold his hand near your face, “Everyday, I regret it. I told myself, I should’ve told you about how I feel. I should’ve told you I love you too. And I’m sorry for not doing it, Bucky.”

If only you could have been fighting with him that day, maybe you did not lose three years. But no matter how hard you regret anything, it won't change anything. All that matters right now is he's back and he's home.

"I love you, James Buchanan Barnes," you stood up and leaned forward to plant a kiss on his forehead, to the tip of his nose, then to his lips.

•••

It has been a day since Tony and Bucky were rescued. Tony is now conscious and he can already stand up and do his thing, but all of you asked him to take it easy first. While Bucky is still sleeping and gaining his strength.

You were in the middle of watching Bucky in his sleep when you heard a knock on the door. It is Tony.

"We told you to stay on bed, right?" you glared at him.

"Yeah, but here I am. Walking and being pain in the ass," he walked inside and walked on the other side of the room, "How's this guy?" he asked you.

Both of you stared at Bucky, "Nat said he's doing fine. It will just really take a while before he could finally wake up. After all that you guus have been out there, wandering around the universe," you answered.

You looked at Tony when he suddenly taps Bucky's arms lightly.

You never thought Tony's heart would soften for Bucky. You knew how painful it is for him to know that the man who killed his parents was the Winter Soldier. All of you knew that he really tried to understand the situation when the civil war took place. That's why you are grateful for what Tony did for the past three years that Bucky is with him up there. He did not let him die, instead, he saved him.

"Hey, umm, Tony," you called Tony's attention, and when he tilts his head to look at you, you gave him a smile, "Thank you."

You wanted to tell Tony the things and reasons why you were grateful to him, but you ended up just thanking him. You know that he knows it already.

"It's nothing," he turned his eyes to Bucky again, "I know how much he means to you and I know he truly loves you. The winter soldier may be the person who killed my parents, but clearly, he is not the winter soldier anymore."

If only Bucky could hear him right now, he would be thrilled.

Soon after Tony leave, you stood up from where you were sitting and make a coffee for yourself. Just as when you're about to pour the coffee on your mug, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Y/n."

You immediately let go of the spoon and mug you were holding on the table and turn around to confirm your hunch.

He's awake. He's looking at you.

You rushed towards him and hugged him as your tears run down your cheeks. You've been aware that he's back, but after hearing his voice calling your name after three years, it felt different. It made sense to you even more, he is really back.

"You know, I still have bruises," he reminded you, making you chuckle and detach yourself from him. He met your gaze and raise his hand to caress your cheeks to wipe your tears away, "I'm okay with the fact that I got to see your face again."

You chuckled, "Thank you for coming back to me. Thank you for coming home. More importantly, thank you for giving me the chance to finally tell you how much you mean to me and how much I love you." You saw how his face lightened when you told him about your feelings, "I wish I could've tell it to you before you and I parted ways three years ago. I wish I could've tell it to you right away and I'm sorry for not doing it."

He shushed you and smiled at you, "It's never too late. What's important right now is we get to fight together this time, side by side," he pulled you towards him and before he kissed your lips he said, "I love you."

And now, you could finally answer him.

"I love you too."

-v.dl

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x You #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x Y/N #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine

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natasha-romanoff-deserved-better · 3 years

Text

The Day The Music Died

Summary:

“This’ll be the day that I die,” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told.

Natasha never wanted to hear that song again.

Word Count: 3437

Also on Ao3 here

~~~

Natasha stares at the bandages wrapped tightly around Clint’s left wrist, eyes locked in on the red spots where extra blood had been soaked up by the gauze. Clint’s tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, softly drumming along to the song playing from the radio as he maneuvers the car around a bend in the old back road.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, snapping Natasha out of her trance. Clint takes his eyes off the road for a second to catch her gaze. “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” It’s not going to change what happened, but he still tries. These types of missions were always hard on Natasha, and it’d only been made that much worse when one of the target’s bodyguards had managed to catch Clint’s forearm with a knife, dangerously close to critical veins. There had been a lot of blood and although Nat was easily able to stitch his skin back together, the close call had scared her - even if she refused to admit it out loud.

“I know you’re fine, idiot. It’s impossible to get rid of you.” She snorts and sends him a small smile. The radio cuts into a commercial, advertising their station and morning talk show before launching into another song.

A long, long time ago

I can still remember how that music

Used to make me smile

Natasha frowns at the song as an alarm bell begins to blare in the back of her head at the notes that drift out of the speakers. She furrows her eyebrows at it, a sinking feeling coming over her. Images from another time threaten to overtake her, and she’s too weak to stop them.

And I knew if I had my chance

That I could make those people dance

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

A blonde little girl, only five years old, prances around the front yard. She’s barefoot and wearing her pink sparkly sundress, hair pulled up into pigtails as she tries to catch a ladybug. Natasha watches from her perch among the tree branches. Mom Melina is kneeled on the ground as she works on the garden in front of the house, planting new flowers to replace the dead ones. She’s brought her portable stereo out, sitting it on the porch and playing at full volume. Natasha isn’t even aware of what song is playing until Yelena is running up to the porch, begging her to play it again. Mom Melina does. And then plays it again with an amused smile and quirked eyebrow when Yelena asks for a third time. Yelena cheers with joy as it starts again and rises to her tip toes as she begins to twirl and dance to the music.

Nobody knows what it is about the song that Yelena likes so much, but she loves it. She constantly asks for it, so much so that Melina loads it onto a cassette tape and keeps it in the car just for her. Natasha doesn’t quite understand what most of the lyrics are talking about, but she decides she doesn’t mind the song for Yelena. In a way, it fits- Yelena is the picture perfect little all american girl, apple pie personified.

Natasha’s frozen in her seat. She pleads with herself to move, to turn off the radio. She doesn’t want to hear this. She knows what verses are coming next, and her breathing catches in her throat as they start. These words hold no comfort for her anymore.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry

And them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Her sister’s high-pitched voice singing the words, a beat behind as she moves her hands cheerfully, lost in the rhythm of the song. She’s buzzing with excitement- ready for her promised big adventure, too young and oblivious to notice their parent’s anxiety or her sister’s internal crisis happening in the seat next to her. Natasha can’t look at her sister, she doesn’t want her to see the panic she knows is written over her face. Instead, she keeps her eyes locked out the window, trying desperately to commit everything to memory. The red, white, and blue lights that light up the night, the football game where a band plays and people cheer, the abundance of restaurants where families are sat enjoying dinner. The normalness of it all makes her angry - how can all these people be so casual when her world is falling apart at the seams? Yelena begins to sing the verse about dying, and it takes everything within Natasha to not snap at her. She can’t bear to listen to her little sister singing about dying, so blissfully unaware of the possibility of the verse becoming true at any moment now. Natasha should say something to her, tell her to stop, tell her what was happening. But the lure of pretending one last time is too great for her to give away. She doesn’t say anything.

Did you write the book of love

A photo album, thick with pictures of them all sit on the shelf. It’s Natasha’s favorite thing in the house, and she often sneaks out of bed to stare at the photos. Realistically, she knows they’re all fake. But if she tries hard enough, thinks long enough, she swears she can recall the events. Thanksgiving had been fun; the food had been the best she’d ever tasted. Their summer vacation had been at the beach, and she swears she can feel the sun warming her face and the sand between her toes.

And do you have faith in God above

If the bible tells you so?

She and Clint had gone to a church once, as part of an undercover mission. She’d ended up having to walk out in the middle of the service. It had been too much. She could never believe in it, even if she wanted to. No loving God would ever create the horrors she had seen before her 13th birthday or give her a family purely to steal it all away so violently.

Can music save your mortal soul

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

Natasha’s feet hit the ground, still en pointe, as she lands the perfect Grand Jete. She tosses her arms out in the landing pose and holds it for a second before excited clapping breaks her concentration. Yelena sits there, smiling wide as possible, clad in her own black leotard and pink tights. She’s in the younger classes, not as advanced as Natasha yet, but it doesn’t stop her from trying. Yelena scrambles to her feet, crossing the floor to stand next to her sister.

“Teach me, teach me!”

It’s a complicated step, and Natasha knows she’s not ready for it just yet. She doesn’t want her to get hurt.

“I’ll teach you when you’re older, okay?” Yelena nods, and turns to the mirror, copying Natasha’s arm positions.

Natasha tries to force another breath into her lungs, but it’s harder now, her throat and chest constricted. She squeezes her eyes closed, trying to block out the flashbacks that continue to assault her.

Now for ten years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone

But that’s not how it used to be.

Fifteen years. It had been fifteen goddamn years since Natasha had seen her sister for the last time. She refuses to let herself think of what might have happened to her. It pains her to think of her baby sister, who had once been so full of life, in such a horrid place.

Natasha wraps her arms around herself, arms holding each other tightly. She digs her fingernails into her skin, attempting to give herself something else to focus on and ground her. It doesn’t work.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the Levee was dry

Them good ol boys were drinking whiskey and rye

And signing this will be the day that I die

This’ll be the day that I die

Natasha doesn’t know how long they’ve been stuffed into this shipping container, crowded against a hundred other little girls. They’re all dirty, all starving, all terrified. The scent of sweat and urine threatens to suffocate them, the air hot and heavy.

She has tugged Yelena into her lap, arms protectively crossed over her torso to hold her close- hasn’t let go of her since the second they were put into here for fear of losing her amongst the other girls. She’s so tiny, and Natasha doesn’t trust any of the others.

Yelena stirs, a small whimper falling from her lips. Natasha tries to shush her gently, but it doesn’t work, and her sister keeps squirming. Her cries are starting to grow in volume, and one of the girls next to them sends them a dirty look.

“Yelena, Yelena. I’m here. You’re with me.” It’s the only words of comfort Natasha can offer her. She wishes she could tell her they were okay, that she was safe, that they were going to be fine. Instead, all she can do is assure her that her older sister had her. Yelena had stopped calling out for her mom a while ago, after her calls went unanswered and she finally realized no one was coming to rescue them. Natasha shifts them around, turning her back towards the others and away from prying eyes. Natasha turns Yelena on her lap, so that Yelena is facing her. “Yelena, look at me.”

Yelena shakes her head, so Natasha gently cups both sides of her face, titling her face up so that she has no choice. Yelena doesn’t resist, just locks her tear-filled eyes onto Natasha.

“I’m scared,” Yelena sobs through hitching breaths as her body trembles.

Natasha clutches her tighter and brings her closer, so close their noses are almost touching. “Don’t cry, Lena. Just sing with me.” Yelena frowns at her in confusion, and Natasha starts to sing under her breath, quietly, so that Yelena is forced to quite herself down and focus to hear the words.

She starts with the chorus, the part that Yelena knows and likes the best. “Bye, Bye, Miss American pie,” Natasha sings. The corner of Yelena’s lips quirks up in recognition. Nat pauses, prompting Yelena to sing the next line herself.

Her voice quivers, but she sings it anyways. “Drove my chevy to the levee…” Natasha nods in encouragement and joins her for the next verse. “But the levee was dry.” They sing the next few lines together. They near the last two lines of the chorus though, and this time, Natasha can’t allow her to sister to sing the last line. They hurt too much, they’re too real.

So she interrupts Yelena, skipping forward past the “Day that I die” line and jumping right into the next verse. Yelena doesn’t even question it, just follows her sister’s lead and allows herself to be completely absorbed in the whispered song.

Natasha sings almost the entire song to her sister, doing her best to remember as many lyrics as she could, and then starts over. She keeps singing, over and over again, until her voice starts to crack, and Yelena’s eyes are slipping closed in exhaustion.

“Tasha?” Clint calls, picking up the tension in his partner. She doesn’t respond, just stays frozen in her seat, locked in her own little world. “Hey,” He calls, a bit louder this time. He takes one hand off the wheel and places it on her shoulder gently. “Nat. What’s going on?” She’s shaking.

Instead of answering, Natasha claps her hands over her ears and leans forward, bending at the waist so she can rest her head atop her knees. She’s shaking her head, muttering something under her breath.

We all got up to dance

Oh, but we never got the chance

“Teach me, teach me!”

“…When you’re older.”

Natasha never got the chance to teach Yelena that ballet move. She wonders just how many other promises to her baby sister she’s broken.

“I’m going to pull over, Nat, okay?” A male’s voice comes from somewhere close by. His hand moves from her shoulder onto her back, to rub small circles on it.

Do you recall what was revealed

The day the music died?

She had never felt so stupid. Standing on that airway strip, holding a gun out in front of her, blocking Yelena. She had let her fall into the lie, childishly believe that maybe, just maybe Dad Alexei loved them like he said he did. As Alexei kneels before them, showing no sympathy to his daughters tears, she realizes that had never been the case.

The chorus starts again, and she feels bile rise in her stomach. “Bye Bye Miss American Pie” Natasha remembers how she had stolen that gun from a solider, shoved her sister behind her and threatened to kill numerous grown men for touching her. How desperately she had clung to Yelena when they’d been ripped apart. She hadn’t been ready to give up her sister, not ready to say goodbye to the American dream lie they had built side by side. “Drove my Chevy to the Levee but the levee was dry” The memory of Yelena’s face during those few days had haunted Natasha’s dreams for years. It had frightened her- even more so than the men with oversized guns. She had never seen her sister, who laughed at everything and loved the world with everything in her, look so despondent. She had tried telling her jokes to pry some kind of smile out of her. It didn't work. “This’ll be the day that I die” Yelena had sung those exact words in the car that day, and no lies were told. That day, when dad Alexei handed them back to Russians soldiers, they had both died. Died only to be remade and ruthlessly forged into something new, nothing more than weapons of mass destruction and trained killers.

There’s cussing to her left that pulls her back halfway to the present. She’s in a car, and she’s covered in vomit that runs down her front and onto her chest and lap. Clint has a hand on her, and he’s telling her just a second, Nat.

“Clint?” She asks, still slightly confused. She can still feel the weight of a smaller body on top of her, feel the soft blonde curls against her chin.

“I’m here, Tasha. Hold on.”

Oh, and there we were all in one place

A generation lost in space

With no time to start again

Countless little girls standing in a straight line, blank expressions, awaiting their next commands. They’re all mirrors of each other, no identity left for any of them to cling onto. Natasha scans over each girl, searching for the blonde waves she knows so well. She can’t find her.

The song drags on as Clint navigates the car off the road, coming to stop. He jumps out and jogs around, flinging Natasha's door open. She doesn’t move, so he reaches in and unbuckles her before slipping his hands into her armpits and pulling her out of the car. She tumbles to the ground, falling onto her knees.

And as I watched him on the stage

My hands clenched in fists of rage

No angel born in hell

Could break that Satan’s spell

Natasha catches Dreykov’s eyes on them, and she tightens her hold on Yelena’s hand. Her sister makes a small noise - she’s going to have bruises with how tight Nat is holding her- but doesn’t pull her hand away. Natasha curls her free hand into a tight fist, ready to swing if need be.

Dreykov says something to the men with guns next to him and points a finger at them. The soldiers start moving forward, and Natasha backtracks, tries to back up but Yelena stumbles at the sudden change in direction.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

The day the music died

Natasha screams her sister's name, gripping onto her as tightly as she can. Soldiers have hands on them both, ripping them away from each other. Dreykov is standing several feet away, a tiny smile on his face. Yelena is shrieking, hands desperately trying to keep her grasp on Natasha with all the strength in her six-year-old frame.

They lose their grip on each other and are dragged apart. Yelena’s voice dies out as they carry away the only thing Natasha had left.

Bye Bye Miss American Pie -

“Turn it off!” Natasha pleads, before promptly vomiting even more onto the ground. Clint’s hands support her head, keeping her from falling. “Off, please. I can’t. Turn it--” Clint’s hands leave her for a second as he scrambles over her, reaching through the open passenger door and slamming the power button on the radio.

Natasha lets out a breath, thankful for the silence. With the song no longer playing, her head is beginning to clear, the painful images retreating somewhere she could lock them away again.

“All done?” Clint asks her. She spits out one last string of bile and nods her head, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as Clint helps her sit up and lean against his leg. He doesn’t rush her, just allows her to sit and try to regain control of her breathing as he combs his fingers through her hair.

When Natasha can finally think again, she frowns at herself in disgust. “Sorry,” She apologizes.

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” he tells her. Clint reaches over and opens the backdoor, grabbing his go bag and digging around until his fingers find one of his clean T-shirts. He yanks it out, closes the door. “Can I help you change, or do you want to do it yourself?”

He’s honestly not even sure if she could change herself right now, with how much she was still shaking, but he gives her the choice anyways. She shrugs her shoulders, her way of accepting help without actually having to accept. “Okay, arms up.” Natasha raises her arms, and Clint carefully tugs her shift off her by the collar, making sure the filthy outside never touched any of her skin. He crumples up the shirt into a ball and tucks it in a bag. He bunches up his shirt at the neck hole and slides it over her head before gently guiding her arms through. It takes a lot for his partner to get to this state, and his concern grows with every passing second that goes by and Natasha is still out of it. He fixes the shirt over her torso, making sure she’s completely covered and then sinks down to the ground, leaning his back against the wheel of the car. There’s a soft breeze in the air, the slight chill nipping at their skin a welcome distraction. “C’mere,” he says, and guides Natasha into his side. She tenses for a moment, but then lets her head drop onto his shoulder, allowing Clint to take her weight. He wraps an arm around her to hold her close.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha repeats, and this time Clint doesn’t say anything. He knows she’s not apologizing to him, but someone not in their presence. He doesn’t push it. She’ll tell him when she’s ready, on her own time. He has guesses though. Clint had an older brother, and he knows what a protective but burnt-out older sibling looks like. He’s seen the way her eyes linger on certain little girls in public before snapping back, caught the way she had once brushed her fingers over a fabric doll with pink hair on a store shelf, heard the way she is able to understand children’s speech without any effort. She’s never mentioned a younger sibling before, but sometimes in her sleep, she mumbles a girl’s name, her hands clenched in fists as if trying to hold on to her.

He presses a kiss to her temple, a silent promise. He won’t push her- He doesn’t need to know exactly what happened. He knows how to support her and how to take care of her when she needs it and for now, that’s enough.

Years later, Natasha will press her forehead to an adult Yelena’s, both panting from the fight, Yelena upside down and laying in the wreckage of the red room. Dreykov is finally dead, by Yelena’s hand. Yelena cracks a joke, and Natasha smiles. They’ll never again be those little girls they once were, but they’ve finally found each other.

#natasha romanoff #yelena belova #kid natasha romanoff #kid yelena belova #songfic #black widow 2021 #black widow fic #angst #natasha centric #marvel liho #mcu #mcu fanfic #Clint barton #he's here too #look i actually wrote something

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pine-lark · 3 years

Note

Ooh trap him somewhere either very hot or very cold?? :D

Oh.

This is a perfect excuse to write an old daydream from my childhood. Well, there's two-- Arion on a grill and Arion in a box. I chose the box for this one but I may be tempted to write the grill at some point. I haven't written The Box before now because it doesn't exactly... fit with the plot of the actual story, but I mean...

Alternate Rescue AU, coming right up, Anon. (Also sorry I'm like, infinitely late haha. School threw me into a hell pit and I've been recovering. I'm back now ((though I'm not sure for how long, things might change in a week or two... we'll see.)) For now, I'm working on a lot of Arion stuff that will hopefully pop up within a few days! Cheers!)

CW: Tiny whumpee, some blood, cold/hypothermia symptoms (duh), cages/referenced captivity, briefly implied forced nudity from said captivity, brief reference to a past fever and resulting vomiting, referenced/implied physical abuse, water/rain/storms/being submerged in/splashed with water, thoughts of dying (of the "I might die" and "Am I dead?" and wishing to be put out of misery type), crying, (thinking about) needles, short (kind of) graphic description of a bird being run over, brief religion references

His legs still ache from running.

Arion sits in the cardboard box he found on the side of the road, huddled in the corner, shivering in the dark. Although he tries to clamp his jaw shut and stop it, his teeth chatter and his shoulders quiver. It feels like the frozen autumn air has grasped him entirely in icy claws that shake him violently in an inescapable grip. It reminds him of being trapped in Heston’s hand, shaken, body tossed in every direction until his head pounded and his eyes watered.

It’s colder outside than it used to be in the garage. But it’s better out here. No one can hurt him here.

As long as they don’t find him.

He rubs his hands over the goosebumps on his arms, hoping to warm them up and calm down the wild pain buried deep in his skin. As he does so, blood smears along the path he touches. It’s still gently creeping out of the series of cuts etched into his forearms. With it, the image of Heston’s glinting eyes surfaces in Arion’s memory. He buries his head in his shaking knees with a wet sniff. But he’s done it, he reminds himself. He’s escaped. Finally. Chewed through rope, slipped through an unlocked door. Heston's gone. For now.

Please, please don’t come looking for me.

A dog barks somewhere in the distance. He jumps. It sets off an echo of shivers all the way down his spine as his hair stands on end.

A raindrop falls on the cardboard roof. Then another, and another. Thunder claps harshly overhead.

Arion shuts his eyes tight, bites back the frustrated tears welling up at the corners of his eyes. He curls up tighter, hugging himself, doing all he can to keep any scrap of heat he has close to his body. A storm might just do it. Might just kill him. A storm means wind. Freezing wind. And freezing rain. The last thing he needs right now is rain. It can’t rain. He presses his body closer to the cardboard wall, knowing it might not be standing there much longer if it rains.

And it does. It pours.

He sees the rain splash into the road before him. The storm swiftly grows. It’s ferocious and feral and cruel. The temperature around Arion drops. His tiny body shakes uncontrollably, as if it weren’t his own. It reminds him of the terrifying fever he had, long ago, in the confines of his red cage just weeks after being taken from his home. He’d been throwing up and twitching and having the most horrible, vivid dreams (on the occasions that both Heston and the illness let him sleep). The fits of shivering drove him mad, the endless teeth-chattering and flashes of uncomfortable warmth and sticky sweat made him feel even worse. It's like that, he thinks. Except, now, as he shivers, he’s unbearably cold.

An involuntary whine fights its way out of him. When he swallows, his throat feels stiff and achy. Snot runs profusely down his lips and no amount of wiping it away with his bleeding arms is helping it slow. Water has thoroughly and entirely drenched the cardboard, at this point. Has crept through the floor and the walls, and, gradually and persistently, has started to drip through the sagging ceiling. For a moment, Arion remembers he has toes, and that they’ve been numb for awhile now. Actually, now that he’s thinking about it, his feet haven’t felt like anything either, and when he tries to move his fingers, they only twitch. They feel heavy and prickly. He feels prickly all over. Like Heston had shoved a thousand frozen needles into a thousand different places all over his body. It hurts to breathe. There’s no way to get warmer. Nothing to hide under, not even something as decent as clothing. No way to escape, nowhere to run to, even if he had the energy left to try. He lets out a miserable sob.

And then the ceiling falls through, in a blur of collapsing cardboard and splashing waves of water that crash over his head and the rest of his body.

Arion tumbles out of the box, drenched. He coughs up water through jittery movements. For a second, he chokes on a mouthful, and he briefly he thinks he'll never breathe again, before his chest jerks and with another cough, the water falls out of his mouth. He tries to get his arms and legs under him, to stand or even crawl, but his limbs fail him and he crumbles face-first back to the harsh surface below him. The rocks mixed in the road’s tar are sharp. They cut deeply through his nose and cheek and the shoulder that followed his face in the fall. Arion winces against the fresh, sharp pain and the beads of blood that begin to form where he’s been hurt. His breaths come in ragged heaves.

He sniffs. Tears drip from his eyes. He lays helpless in the middle of the little road, in his mind begging to no one that a car doesn’t come along and crush him. Under any other circumstance, he’d love to be put out of his misery. But he’s seen a bird been run over before. Under a truck’s tire. And the memory makes his stomach churn. Flattened face, open stomach, popped like a bubble in a stream.

Briefly, Arion thinks of himself in place of the bird. He thinks of the smear of red underneath his empty, open eyes. He thinks of the way the headlights might look as they would suddenly appear right in front of him. The horrid, mind-numbing honk of a horn. The image he creates in his mind of those headlights, his last moments, is vivid. It’s so vivid that he thinks it might be real, or maybe hypothermia is setting in and beginning to ruin his mind.

It’s just his imagination, he thinks.

And then he smells exhaust from a car.

And the screech of brakes.

And for a second, whilst his body is numb and bright white light is all he can see, he thinks he might be dead.

“I swear, if I keep stopping my car for every mouse that sits in front of it, I’m never going to get anywhere.”

That voice drifts from the car stopped in front of him.

Not dead, then.

Almost, he thinks.

“Can’t help it though. What else am I supposed to do, run them over? Just vet instincts, I guess. Huh, Jasper.” There’s a meow in response. Arion’s breath hitches. The voice says, “Me-ow. I know, I know. I’ll be right back.” A car door shuts. Then there’s heavy wet footsteps. Boots clopping over puddles and asphalt. Panic floods Arion’s chest as a shadow cuts through the blinding white light from the vehicle. The outline of a human lowers, kneels in front of him. His breath stops. His mind goes blank.

“What…”

A moment passes. Something touches him. He flinches hard, but trying to run isn’t an option. His body is completely, entirely, wholly exhausted and far too numb to move more than flailing back a couple inches.

“Oh, geez, that’s-- not a mouse. Okay.” Her head turns in a way that Arion can see her face. A young woman with red hair, watching him with a warm but frantic gaze. “Okay. Okay okay. Oh, God, you’re injured pretty bad, little buddy. Your arms are all… cut up. That’s not good. Um.”

Arion stares blankly ahead. Suddenly, freezing to death isn’t something he feels like putting too much effort into avoiding.

“Okay. Here’s what we’ll do,” the girl continues. “I’m gonna bring you into my car where I can see you better, alright? Then I can help you. It’s gonna be okay. Here. I’m picking you up now, ‘kay?”

The feeling of a warm hand washes over his body. It’s both terrifying and incredibly welcome. The sting of cold seems to seep out of his skin, albeit very slowly. Quickly, though, burning prickles replace whatever comfort the touch brought him.

“Oh, you’re freezing, little guy. You must have been out here for a long time. That can be really dangerous… I’m glad I found you. I’ll get you all warmed up in the car.”

Arion whimpers against the hands that carry him to somewhere warmer, where he hears the faint, deep sound of a large beating heart. For a second, he wonders if this is God. And then the car door opens and creaks, and the girl curses under her breath, and Arion remembers he’s an atheist.

Still, as the stinging in his warming skin subsides, the warmth of her hands starts to feel… nice. If his mind were still intact (instead of shattered into vague, useless fragments as it is now), Arion would have done anything and everything to get away from any human or other predatory beast in sight. But with his head swimming, he leans into her touch, and compliantly accepts the soft feeling of some kind of cloth being wrapped all around him.

Words are spoken to him, but he can’t listen. To him they sound broken up and blurry as the insistence of sleep becomes more desperate in the back of his mind. As he gets warmer, his muscles relax, and his eyes get droopy. His vision darkens, and the girl’s voice hushes.

Just before he drifts off into a far overdue, deep and restful sleep, he thinks to himself, vaguely, that he hopes this human is different. He hopes that when he wakes back up, it won’t be in another cage.

Tag list because this ended up being a full drabble:

(Also, let me know if you'd like to be removed from the tag list. No hurt feelings! I know it's been a long time and if you've lost interest that is A-Okay, friend)

(Also, if you'd like to be added or if your username's changed, let me know!)

@whumping-every-day, @deluxewhump, @sola-whumping, @haro-whumps, @inaridriscoll, @whatwasmyprevioususername, @kiretto-laorentze, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @ahorriblebimess, @whump-me-all-night-long

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Text

Hurricane (Part 8)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Rebecca Lao) Rating: T+ Warning: angst Summary: A hurricane is falling over Boston. Edenbrook has been evacuated and some very different doctor’s end up seeking shelter together.

A/N: The ending is trash. But it’s my trash. We’ve got one more chapter to go and then that’s a wrap on this project!

________________________________________

Naveen drove the car back to the cabin before parking it on the cobbled drive, the engine shutting off with a quick flick of his key. Still caught in an awkward silence as heavy as the rain clouds above, the trio padded back towards the cabin. Ethan watched Becca out of the corner of his eye, holding a few paces back with Naveen to let her approach the porch first. In the doorway, Sienna was waiting with two bath towels draped over her arms. A wave of relief washed over her petite form as she saw them; her big eyes softening and bottom lip quivering with all the emotions she saved for the worst of outcomes.

“Becca!” Sienna called as she closed the distance between her and Becca, wrapping her soaking wet friend in a hug around a large, plush towel. “Are you okay? What happened?”

For someone who’s life nearly drifted away with the current earlier, Becca seemed strangely quiet and calm. She didn’t even look at Sienna; darkened eyes trained on her peripheral, towards the unrelenting waters. “I’m fine, Si. Just went for a little swim.”

Sienna looked at her with critical eyes, not believing a single word coming out of her friend’s mouth. She would have said something in any other circumstances, but she was too thankful that Becca was breathing at the minute. This conversation would have to wait. She turned her attention to the other rogue swimmer now coming up behind them, handing him the other towel still draped on her arm.

“Ethan, are you okay?” she asked the attending, her trained doctor’s eyes scanning him for obvious injuries.

He took the offered towel gratefully. “Please, there is no need to worry about me.” He wiped his face first then draped the burgundy fabric over his shoulders, shivering as the cold wind caught his wet clothes, “Where’s Jenner?”

Sienna nodded towards the ajar door, her arms still wrapped securely around her best friend. “In with Elijah.”

Ethan nodded and went inside to his dog, sparing one last glance towards a despondent Becca on his way.

With a small, resigned sigh, Sienna turned her full attention back towards her friend and guided her to the door. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

Sienna led Becca inside and up to her room. Elijah didn’t notice the girls as he was in deep conversation with Ethan in the archway to the den. For that, Becca was thankful; they could just slip upstairs and rest.

As soon as the girls reached the threshold of the master suite, Sienna closed the door softly behind them and reached for her friend, her eyes severe now that they were blessed with the privacy they didn’t have earlier. “You okay?” She asked with a concerned hand gripping Becca’s forearm; her tone of voice emitting a firm warning that she would accept the truth and nothing else.

Becca shrugged Sienna off, taking a step back to shed her wet clothes and throwing on her pajamas. Biting her tongue this round, Sienna gathered up the strewn garments into a pile and wrung them out in the bathroom, making a mental note to wash them once the power came back on. Becca didn’t waste a single second before immediately crawling under the covers while Sienna watched with a very careful eye.

Sensing the stare, Becca sighed heavily. “Si, I’m fine. Truly.”

Her friend wasn’t convinced. “That’s what you say, but you were literally being ripped down stream, you could have died.”

“But I didn’t.”

Light pads of sock-clad feet walked to the bed with private determination and sat on the edge of the mattress, her eyes begging. “Talk to me, please.” - a hand reaching for the top of Becca’s thigh - “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

But Becca wasn’t waving, keeping her gaze on the darkwood bedpost in front of her to avoid Sienna’s concerned one. “That I really need to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Bec-”

There was a knock at the door, making both ladies tense in place. Sienna reluctantly moved to open it and was met with Dr. Banerji’s warm smile, his medical bag cradled against his hip.

Ever in dire situations like this one, the senior doctor never seemed to run out of positive energy. He stepped in the room and glided closer to the bed, a comforting smile decorating his lips. “I’ve come to take your temperature and listen to your lungs,” he informed them. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Becca rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue. She swung her legs off the bed and sat on the edge, letting Naveen inspect her. Thankfully, she only had a few cuts on her hands that were in need of bandaging, most likely inflicted while she fought to hold herself against the current earlier

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he applied ointment and bandages to her palms.

“Tired.”

“As expected,” he nodded. She wasn’t forthcoming, so he made sure to update her on what has been going on downstairs; “Ethan has a gash on his leg. Dr. Greene is stitching him up.” The gossiper in him carefully gauged her reaction while his more romantic side hoped to see something pass along her features, possibly akin to relief, but he was disappointed there was nothing but the tired eyes of a woman who’s been through hell that afternoon.

She felt his critical gaze searching her. The third one silently scrutinizing the last hour; and it made her blood begin to boil.

“I didn’t need rescuing. I know how to combat a riptide. What he did was stupid,” she clarified, indifferent to his comment.

Naveen chuckled and offered her a kind smile, although one that hid a hint of seriousness in it. “We both know exactly why he did it, Becca.”

Becca scoffed and shook her head, looking away.

The older doctor sighed and put away his medical tools. He obviously wasn’t going to get anything out of her tonight, and he’d been around this kind of temperament long enough to know when to resign. It was almost comical just how similar she was to his protégé, especially when it came to their ironclad stubbornness. “You’ve been through a lot today, dear. I’m prescribing you some much-needed rest.”

Becca rolled her eyes.

With a taut smile, Naveen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder before taking his medical bag and leaving the room.

While Naveen was with Becca, Sienna had excused herself to make some tea. The petite resident was now staring at the kettle, transfixed, but not actually watching the steam spill out into the shadows of night. The worry for her friend still ever present in her mind and the creases on her forehead. In a daze Sienna poured two two mugs full.

She was just setting the kettle back down on the hob when a gruff sound had her jumping out of her trance and turning on the balls of her feet.

“Let me,” Ethan said quietly.

The two shared the same despondent look, though one of them had a deeper reason for it.

Sienna’s eyes expertly roved over him. He’d changed into clean pajamas, his hair wild and partially dry from drying it in a towel. His weight being carried on one side of his body, no doubt from his injury. His eyes were dark, and there were prominent purple circles under his eyes. And his large hand was extended towards her, waiting with all the patience of a dying man.

With a small smile, she hands the mug over without a single reservation.

And Sienna watches intently as Ethan gingerly makes his way through the cabin and up to Becca.

In the few short minutes she was left alone Becca snuggled deeper into the blankets. Rolled onto her side so her back was to the door and her face buried in a pillow begging her to spill everything all over.

Over her tormenting thoughts she recognized the patter of footsteps against the hardwood of the hallway and sniffled all the emotion back. If Sienna saw her crying it’d become a much bigger thing than Becca ever wanted it to be. She’ll save her tears for later.

When the steps grew louder, crossing the threshold, Becca muttered, “You should just sleep here tonight instead of going up and down to check on me.”

“Do you think that’s wise?”

Even in the minimal light of the candle on the dresser Ethan could see her stiffen. Could hear the discontented sigh that escaped her when his words met her ears.

He stood suspended in the doorway, questioning every instinct he thought he knew.

Becca shifted under the sheets, moving to sit up in bed.

��Thought you were Sienna.” Her tone was still and level and wildly indifferent as she chanced a look at him.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he muttered back. Crossing the distance Ethan held out a mug to her; “Are you okay?”

She took the offering, a forced smile on her lips. “Peachy.”

“Becca…”

“I’m fine, Ethan.” She groans, deflating. “What do you want me to say?”

“You can start with why you’ve been upset with me all day.”

Becca couldn’t help the absolutely indecent chortle that erupted from her.

“I’m not upset with you. I’m mad at myself.”

Ethan made a garble akin to Huh?

And that just fueled the fire that’s begun to rage within her the last day and rivals the treacherous storm this hurricane caused.

“Why did you come after me?” She all but spat the accusation. “It was so reckless and stupid. You could have been hurt. You have stitches for Christ’s sake!”

“You could have drowned. I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

The audacity in his unbridled poise had her stirring under the sheets and gripping the mug tighter.

“Superman Complex already belongs to someone else. Why, Ethan.”

It was a standoff between them. Him in his dry clothes - white tee and gray sweatpants, standing at the side of her bed. Becca was shielded by the blankets but still sitting tall and commanding for someone of her stature. He couldn’t read her ever-telling body language in the dim light of the master bedroom. All he could make out was her silhouette, rigid and doing all she could to cloak herself behind an unsuccessful curtain of hair.

Holding onto the sliver of revelation he had earlier, Ethan spoke truthfully.

“Because I care about you. You have such a fulfilling life ahead an-”

It certainly didn’t have the intended impact. For she cut him off with a resoundingly offended;

“Can you stop.”

His darkened azure eyes were wide with panic. “What -”

“I’m sick of these mind games.”

Her tone was flat, and that scared Ethan Ramsey more than anything. It would be better if she was yelling. He found himself wishing she was yelling even if he had no inkling as to what this argument is actually about.

“I know you care about me, Ethan. But is that all this is?”

She finally looked him in his eyes. The darkness of the room complimented the depths of her darkened irises, and he couldn’t see a single emotion in them. All he could see was all of his failures.

“I - I’m in too deep with you. I may have almost drowned this afternoon, but it was nothing compared to this choking feeling of swimming in all this doubt and uncertainty.”

He moved towards her. Placing his mug on the bedside. This close he could just begin to make out the hurt in the creases of her frown.

“Becca,” he reached for her. His hand suspended in midair, waiting for her permission to cup her cheek.

Instead, she looked down at her fingers tracing the Edenbrook logo on the pristine white ceramic mug between her palms.

Ethan waited.

And waited.

Frozen in place until she said something, anything.

“Be honest with me,” the words came out on an exhale. “No one else is around. Just me.” Her voice so frail as she turned her whole form towards him. “Tell me.”

The outstretched fingers on his hand curled inwards. His fist raised -- once, twice punching against an invisible opponent as his inner self weighed all his options.

He could tell her - he could finally be truly honest.

He could do what’s right.

He could lay everything out there and let her take the reins.

More realistically, he could continue to hold onto the values he’d had all his life.

The longer the silence hung between them, and the pattering of the storm echoed throughout the bedroom walls, the more a reality without her became apparent.

Rebecca Lao is a strong woman - he knows this. And Ethan is ever so aware that she won’t wait for him forever. If her stint today told him anything it’d be that it is he who couldn’t survive a life without her.

Every millisecond that passed, every slight turn of her head and stroke of her finger against the mug, he knew he was losing her. And for once, Ethan Ramsey - renowned doctor, known for his belligerent voice and affluent vocabulary - couldn’t find the words.

Just as she let out a disquieting breath, he took the leap. Knees pressed flush against the side of the mattress. Long, deft fingers grazing the quilt at the side of her hip. His eyes never leave her. Becca was looking down as if all hope was lost. As if his silence spoke for him.

It didn’t -

“I want to be with you.”

Becca felt like the air had been stolen from her lungs. How long had she been waiting to hear them? How long has she been hoping Ethan Ramsey would commit to only her with a promise of forever? Far longer than she’d care to admit, that’s for sure.

Ethan watched her lips part, her jaw slacken. Every pretty feature he adored more than life itself stunned stiff.

In true fashion Becca schooled her features as soon as his words rang through the mahogany room. Bitter words formed on her tongue, accompanied by a desolate huff,

“You sure about that?”

Not a single hesitation as Ethan responded, “Yes.”

“You sure have some fucked up way of showing it.” She watched him from the corner of her eye, shifting in his place and a rueful tug at the corners of his mouth.

Ethan kneeled down beside the bed, coming to her level, “I know.”

This is never how Becca imagined getting Ethan Ramsey down on his knees. All those fantasies didn’t join a near death experience or a fight.

His palms spread out on the quilt. All of him itching to touch her. If he could touch her, everything would be okay.

A beat forced itself between them. Ethan staring at his fingers inching towards her above the horrid colored quilt, and Becca looking blankly at the top of his head.

And then she murmured;

“I can’t be with you if you’re going to treat me like shit all the time.”

“It was never my intention. I just want what’s bes-”

“Best for me, I know. But you don’t get to dictate that. It’s my life, I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions.”

He was listening. He was guilty and listening.

“I want you, Ethan.”

Those words were like music to his ears - to know she really, truly shared the sentiment. His deep blue gaze flickered up to her; staring at her from under long lashes and hanging on to her every word. This was everything they’ve both wanted - a proper admission of devotion. Then why did she look so sad?

“But not if you’re going to keep pulling away from me.”

Ah. There it was. All his faults coming back - his one mistake at abandoning her after she needed him most digging deep.

“I’m sorry. All of this was to protect you. I’ll always, always protect you.”

Becca’s heart skipped a beat at the unbridled conviction in his tone against her better judgment.

“I don’t need a hero, Ethan.” Becca shook her head in kind admonishment. “I want a partner. Someone who will let me make mistakes and just hold me through it at the end of the day.”

A bolt of lightning cracked in the distance. Their stare on one another so strong, devoted, that she couldn’t see through the clear blue of his irises and deep into his soul the moment the fleeting lightness peered in.

“Okay,” was all he said.

He responded quickly and with such fortitude that she couldn’t help but be skeptical.

Becca rose a brow.

Ethan moved closer and grabbed her hand, adding a squeeze.

In a low voice she said, “I want to make the most of the time we have left. If I get a job elsewhere… I don’t want to regret anything.”

His brows pulled together as this little known fact wormed its way into his rationality. “You’re thinking of leaving Edenbrook?” He held onto her hand just a bit tighter.

“I don’t know,” she half shrugged. “If…”

He finished the question for her. “Of course you’ll have a job. The spot on my team is yours.”

“Yeah, I know. But if…” Becca didn’t know how to accurately explain her fears. If they didn’t work out after all this would she still be able to work with him? Would he be able to? What if she received an amazing offer elsewhere. What happens to them if she takes it?

“Can we not think about this right now.”

Taking both her cold hands in his, Ethan simply nodded.

He could feel the scary stirring in the pit of his stomach. Every pang of it subsiding the longer her warmth was within reach. The last of his fears overtaken by the most adorable sound as she stifled a yawn.

Ethan let go of her hand just long enough to brush some strands back from her face. Un-showered and salty from the day’s events her cheek was still soft under his touch. He leaned up to press the lightest of pecks to her forehead.

Ethan was less than a few centimeters away from where she wanted him most. One movement and it could all be right and well. Becca brushed her nose against the stubble of his chin, coaxing him downwards. She could feel his grin against her skin as his stubble marked her nose. Every second he didn’t succumb, the tip grew redder and redder.

Ethan pulled back - too far for a quick descend down to her lips - and Becca almost threw a tempered fist into the mattress. Almost.

He was looking at her with such reverence it made her whole entire body tingle. Like his stares were the hand of Da Vinci trying to capture her image - immortalize it for the rest of time. Trying desperately to paint this to memory - this moment where everything for them seemed to change for the better. This was the moment Ethan Ramsey knew.

Becca was mere inches away. One more movement and she would know - know that he is irrevocably her. One more movement and he’d seal their fate.

Her eyes flickered down to his chapped lips, and this time she didn’t look away. This time there was no enchanting classic playing on the television, just the person before them. This time Ethan was thankful for her focus. He let out the breath he was holding in. Watched her eyelids flutter as the warm gust met her lashes. Leaned in and listened. Listened to the erratic thumping. Thumping of his heart or hers or the hurricane, he didn’t know.

Didn’t care. Couldn’t give a damn about anything other than her.

Their lips met. Softly, tenderly. The shortest, most endearing kiss they’ve ever had. Neither wanting to ruin this with overzealous lust.

They pulled back, unencumbered smiles gracing their features; and then she yawned again.

Light with strange happiness, Ethan gently pressed her back into pillows. Pulled the covers around her to tuck her in.

He kissed her chastely once more. Then pulled away.

Every step he took from her side of the bed had her chiding herself for being so stupid for believing him this time. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

Ethan moved through the darkness. The raging winds of reality jolted through them, pounding on the expansive windows. Getting louder and more unruly the further he got.

But then he did something so unexpected. So surprisingly unlike the man she thought she knew.

He pulled back the covers of the other side of the bed and slipped in. Ethan shifted closer and closer atop the king sized bed until his arm wrapped around her waist, the other snaking under her neck. Becca welcomed him without a single hesitation or ill thought. This is exactly what she hoped for yesterday.

Ethan had that smile - that one smile reserved only for her - as he dove into the covers with her, never intending to come back up. Their sweet embrace was all the sustenance he needed to survive. In this moment - and all of them to come, he’s sure - he and Becca were the only two people in the universe.

The storm outside was moving miles and miles away.

________________________________________

A/N: there was meant to be a cute bathtub scene at the end before they went to bed. it required too much effort so it got the axe. oh well! thanks for sticking around <3

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

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#open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc

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rubysunnday · 4 years

Text

Cousin Mine

Y/N had only meant to go outside for a bit of fresh air and a cigarette.

There were so many people inside the house and it was beginning to get overwhelming - not to mention the fact people get coming up to her and offering her their sympathies.

She’d never particularly liked Grace. But, somehow, the woman had become a maternal figure in her life despite only really being in it a few years.

Her death had rocked Y/N and she still didn’t quite know what was happening.

Opening the Grace Shelby institute - the actual title was a lot longer and more tedious but Y/N couldn’t be bothered to remember it in its entirety - was meant to help with that loss and to cope with it and to move on.

Y/N sighed, exhaling a large cloud of smoke as she dropped her cigarette onto the gravel and squished it out with her heel. She turned to step back inside when someone shoved past her, evidently in a hurry.

“Oi!” Y/N yelled, turning to watch them run towards a car. “Watch where you’re fucking going.”

The person slowed down and Y/N could now see they were holding a squirming child in their arms.

The child turned their head and Y/N felt her stomach drop as Charlie looked back at her, his eyes watering with tears.

“What the fuck are you doing with my nephew?” Y/N demanded, marching forwards towards the person, hand reaching for the gun she had in her coat pocket.

Two men suddenly grabbed her arms from behind, pulling her backwards harshly. Y/N stumbled, her shoes slipping on the gravel of the driveway and she tried to fight them off. She went to scream but one of them put a piece of cloth over her mouth and nose.

Y/N tried not to breathe in whatever was on it but her lungs burnt for air and eventually she did, her knees buckling underneath her as whatever drug was on the cloth took hold and knocked her out.

Tommy sighed as the women finally left him, moving off to go interrogate someone else. He looked around and frowned slightly as he saw no sign of his son in the room.

He looked around again, glancing over at where John’s children were playing.

Still no Charlie.

“Where’s Charles, Ada?” Tommy asked, approaching his sister.

Ada frowned, looking up at him from the man she’d been talking to. “I gave him to you.”

Tommy shook his head slightly, staring at his sister. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

Tommy tried not to let panic overwhelm just yet. He walked over to John and Arthur, trying to ignore his heartbeat increasing. “Boys. Have you seen Charlie?”

“I don’t know, he’s playing isn’t he?” John asked, his eyes narrowing slightly at his brothers panicked state.

Tommy turned around and walked up to Polly. “Pol, where’s Charles?” He asked, pulling her away from whatever conversation she was having with Esme and the mayor.

Polly looked at him blankly, her eyes widening a fraction in concern. Tommy turned and moved on to Lizzie.

“Lizzie. Where is Charlie?” Tommy demanded, looking at her and Linda.

“I don’t know,” Lizzie replied, shaking her head, frowning.

Tommy was beginning to panic.

His son was missing.

He turned around and walked back to his brothers, pointing at them and listing off locations to go and search as he himself began to panic even more.

“Tommy,” Ada called, running up to them. “Somebody said they saw a nurse take him through the back door.”

“What nurse?” Arthur asked, grabbing Ada’s arm.

“I don’t know,” Ada replied, pushing him towards the door. “Go.”

Arthur ran out the door and began searching the staircase by the backdoor, running up it and then back down it.

“Arthur,” Ada called, running up to him and grabbing the banister.

“What?” Arthur asked, running past her, back down the stairs.

“Somebody said they saw a woman and a kid getting into a car,” Ada, said, following him. “They also said there looked like a girl was with them.”

Arthur paused, halfway down the stairs, and looked back up at Ada, frowning. “What girl?”

“I don't...” Ada trailed off, her eyes widening as she realised.

“Y/N,” Arthur muttered, his own panic growing even more. “Fuck.”

Tommy looked around as John emerged outside the house. “John?”

Arthur then appeared, looking very flustered and even more panicked than before. “John, call Moss. Tell him to block the junctions. Go!”

John nodded at Arthur and turned around, running back into the house.

“Arthur, where is he?” Tommy asked, looking up at his brother as he walked up to him. Arthur put a hand on the back of Tommy’s neck, the other on his cheek. “Arthur, tell me.”

“Someone took him,” Arthur said as gently as he could. Tommy shoved him off but Arthur grabbed him, forcing him to look at him. “Listen to me,” he said, putting a hand on Tommy’s head as his brother buried his head against him, “they put him in a car and drove south. Tom, listen...”

Tommy looked up at him, wondering what else Arthur could possibly say to make his day worse. “What?”

“They took Y/N too,” Arthur said slowly, eyeing his brother carefully incase he needed to catch him. “She was outside when they took Charlie and tried to stop them but got caught in it, apparently.”

Tommy was panicking even more. He couldn’t breathe. “What?”

He fell against his brother and Arthur held him against his chest, keeping him upright as he put a hand on the back of his head, cradling him.

“We’ll find her, Tommy,” Arthur said, trying to reassure himself too. “We’ll find them both.”

Y/N had no idea how long she’d been out for.

Nor did she have any idea as to where she even was.

It looked like the back room of a church. It smelt like a church.

The cross hanging on the wall opposite her confirmed the fact it was, indeed, a church.

Charlie had gurgled happily upon seeing his aunt awake and had made grabby hands at her. Y/N, swallowing down her own fear, had smiled at her nephew and picked him up, holding him against her.

He was now fast asleep in her lap, and she was gently stroking her nephews hair. Her right hand was tied to the radiator behind her, the rope tight enough around her wrist that it was beginning to hurt.

When she��d woken up, the Reverend had walked in and she’d given the him what for and had ended up being slapped.

Her face was still burning and she knew that there was a significant bruise forming on her right cheek and that her lip was cut - she’d been tasting the metallic tang of blood ever since.

Charlie was confused as to what was happening, but seeing his aunt had made him content enough.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head back against the radiator. She bite her lip, hard, as she tried not to cry in front of her nephew.

She hated this.

She hated Tommy.

She hated everyone.

But she was so, so desperate for someone to come rescue her.

Y/N knew that, if Charlie hadn’t been here, she would be raising hell, right now, and breaking down windows and doors and fighting to escape. But she couldn’t risk anything happening to Charlie as a result of her actions.

So, she sat.

And waited.

The sun appeared and then disappeared and then appeared. Y/N watched it through the window, mentally counting the minutes, the hours.

She fell asleep at one point and woke up with a start when Charlie had poked her face to wake her up.

The sun was disappearing once again when the door to the back room was unlocked and pulled open.

Y/N sat up, unconsciously tightening her grip on Charlie as the Reverend walked in holding a tray.

“Good evening,” he said, smiling.

Y/N tried not to show how afraid she was as he walked up to her and crouched down, putting the tray on the floor in front of her.

“Hi, little one,” he said as Charlie raised his head and looked at him. He held out a sliver spoon to him. “Want a shiny spoon?”

“Leave him the fuck alone,” Y/N warned, holding Charlie close to her as she glared up at the man.

The Reverend tutted as he turned to look at Y/N. “Such language from a young woman is inappropriate,” he said, shaking his head. “I wish I could’ve taught you better.”

“You’re a fucking creep,” Y/N snapped, still glaring.

The sound of the slap he delivered bounced off the white-washed walls. Y/N gasped as her head was forcibly turned to the side. The Reverend leant forward and grabbed her chin, holding it tightly.

“Listen here you bitch,” he hissed. “I won’t harm the child, but if you don’t start to learn to respect me, I will hurt you.”

He let go of her and turned back to Charlie who was gurgling happy, completely oblivious, at the spoon his hand.

Y/N’s head turned to look at the open door as she heard footsteps approach it. The Reverend frowned slightly as he, too, heard them and stood up, walking to the door and standing just outside it.

“What do you think you’re doing, boy?” The Reverend asked who ever was out there.

Y/N couldn’t see what was going and could only, really, hear the Reverend.

“Please don't,” he said, sounding panicked. “Please don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot. Please don’t.”

Y/N heard someone grunt and the sound of fighting. Hoping it was rescue and not someone else who’d come to kidnap her, she reached forward for the bowl in front of her.

She smashed it on the wall behind her, soup and shards of ceramic going everywhere.

Charlie began to whimper as Y/N swore loudly, a shard of the bowl cutting her left hand as she picked it up.

“I know, Charlie, I know,” she muttered as she began cutting the rope. The blood was dripping down her arm and onto her dress which had long since been ruined, but she kept going.

“Do you know who you’re fucking messing with?” The Reverend yelled and Y/N could hear another man grunting.

Y/N’s efforts increased as she heard the sound of someone choking. She growled, pulling on the rope as she tried to pull it free from the radiator.

“No!”

Y/N froze as the rope finally snapped and her hand fell limply to the floor in to a pool of blood.

Michael was out there.

“Go call Finn,” Michael said to whoever else was out there with him.

Y/N didn’t hear anything else as she forced herself to stand up, almost falling over as her legs protested.

She could hear the Reverend choking for air and recognised the sound of a dying man as he gurgled on, what she presumed was his own blood. She grasped the wall behind her and pushed herself up, stumbling over to the open door.

Charlie had crawled over to the door and was throwing random pencils around, cooing happily at Michael.

Y/N could see the outline of the Reverend, dead on the floor, and spotted the edge of her cousin as he sat against the wall next to the door.

She quietly walked up to the door and slid down the wall, facing Charlie. She could hear Michael’s shaking breath and reached out her right hand around the door frame.

Michael looked to his left and saw his cousin’s hand reaching out for his. He lowered his blood soaked one and clenched hers tightly, ignoring the way they both shook.

Y/N leant her head against the wall and sighed softly, holding Michael’s hand tightly as she watched Charlie, oblivious to what had happened, playing happily on the floor.

After a minute, Y/N crawled around to the other side of the wall and sat next to Michael, stretching her legs out in front of her.

She didn’t say anything about the blood dripping down his face, or the fact the Reverend had been killed by his own rosary.

Michael hadn’t said anything about what had happened to him at the hands of the now dead man, but Y/N didn’t have to have a vivid imagination to picture it.

She hoped the man was rotting in hell.

Y/N looked up at Michael, who was staring straight ahead, eyes wide, and dropped her head on to his shoulder.

Michael glanced down at her. He hesitated for a moment but then lowered his head to rest on top of hers.

There were still lights on inside the office as they walked inside. Y/N followed behind Michael, forcing herself to keep walking even though she was aching with every step.

Her cousin was holding Charlie in his arms and almost as soon as he stepped through the front door, Polly and Ada ran out and took him from him, both crying in relief at Charlie being safe and in one piece.

Y/N came to a stop next to her cousin and took his hand in hers, trying not to lean on him too much as she swayed slightly.

She had blood on her dress, the red staining the fabric that had once been light blue.

Polly turned and looked at her son and niece, her eyes catching the dried blood on Michael’s face, the ruined skin on Y/N’s right hand, the dried blood on her dress and the bruise on her cheeks.

Y/N tried not to flinch as Polly put a hand to her cheek, her thumb gently tracing over the bruises and her cut lip. She looked at her aunt, unable to form a sentence as she dropped her hand and turned to look at her son.

Michael stared straight ahead as his mother embraced him gingerly.

Polly stepped back, watching as Michael turned around, Y/N following him silently as they both left. She watched them both with a sad face, seeing how defeated and broken they both looked.

Michael stopped outside the office front door and let go of Y/N’s hand, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. He silently tilted her chin up, eyes scanning her bruised and bloodied face as she looked up at him.

Y/N reached up and wiped away a speck of blood from her cousins eyebrow and blinked against the tears forming in her eyes. One escaped and trickled down her face, dripping off her chin.

Without a word, Michael brought Y/N against him and held her tightly, hand coming to rest on the back of her head.

Y/N relaxed into her cousins grip and closed her eyes. She put her hands under his jacket and around his waist, burying her hands in the bunched up fabric of his shirt and breathing in the smell of his cologne.

Neither one of them would ever say what they did that night.

#Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby sis #shelby sister #tommy shelby x sister!reader #michael grey x reader #michael grey imagine

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refinedbuffoonery · 4 years

Text

Only Human

Post 5x05. Angst. Riley POV. It’s sad.

*****

Only human. That’s what Jack was.

As a kid, Riley thought he was invincible. Nothing bad could ever happen to him. And if it did, he could always find a way out. Like when Riley busted him for picking flowers from her yard to give to her mom on their first date, or when he charmed his way out of yet another speeding ticket.

As an adult, Riley thought he was invincible. He and Mac pulled off crazy stunts Riley could barely wrap her head around, and they always came out alright. Whatever gods or forces of the universe were looking down on Jack Dalton clearly liked him and wanted him to stick around.

It took the sight of a flag-covered casket for Riley to realize Jack Dalton was only human.

The one man she thought would never truly leave her was gone. For good this time.

And there was nothing she could do about it.

Until there was. Until Mac received that postcard—that last piece of Jack—and suddenly they were flying to Croatia to crack his final clue. Until they were the ones hunting a not-actually-dead Kovac. Until they were the ones stuck in a trap laid by the same woman who murdered Jack.

Riley would’ve snapped that blonde bitch’s neck if Mac hadn’t stopped her.

Rotting in a cell for the rest of eternity was too good a fate for the person who cut Jack’s life short.

Normally, Riley would’ve felt smart for catching a whole taped confession like that, but this time she just felt cold. Empty. No amount of justice would even begin to heal the Jack-shaped wound in her heart.

The flight home seemed like it would never end. Riley didn’t even feel the burn of the whiskey Russ handed her as she knocked it back like a shot. If she had the energy to get up, she would’ve drank the rest of the bottle.

Even Mac sitting beside her didn’t bring Riley any comfort. She wanted to scream at the universe until her voice was hoarse, cursing it for ripping the closest thing she ever had to a dad from her grasp. It seemed like just yesterday they made amends and he was her dad again.

But it wasn’t.

That was more than five years ago, and the few years Riley had with him were the best of her life. Even though half the time they spent together usually involved trying not to get killed.

Riley couldn’t help but think that if she had been there, had been part of that task force, hunting Kovac with Jack, she would’ve connected the dots Jack missed and realized the rescue op was a trap. She could’ve kept him alive.

Because as a team—Jack, Mac, and herself—they were invincible. But alone, they were only human.

Since that first drive with Mac, Riley drove the GTO every day. She drove it to work, to the grocery store, to the gym. She even drove it just for the sake of driving it, wasting gas with no destination in mind. On those days, she usually found herself ordering a brisket sandwich at Jack’s favorite Texas barbeque restaurant. Most of the time, she was so numb her body revolted at the idea of food, but Riley forced herself to eat the damn sandwich anyway, since she had to enjoy it for both of them now.

Driving Jack’s car was the closest thing to feeling like he was with her again.

She even stole one of Jack’s Metallica t-shirts from Mac to sleep in, but the GTO was where Riley felt his presence best.

Presence. Like all that was left of her invincible dad was a ghost, following her around quoting Bruce Willis movies and harassing her about leaving fingerprints on his car.

Soldiers died all the time. So did agents. That was part of the job. But Riley never thought her agents would die. Not really. Not when they avoided death so well. And if they were to die, they’d all go at the same time, doing something incredibly stupid. If you go kaboom, I go kaboom. That was Jack’s promise. The whole team’s promise.

“We were supposed to go kaboom together,” Riley whispered to herself, parking the GTO in Mac’s driveway. She blinked back the tears threatening to escape.

Her eyes caught the old basketball hoop. Mac and Jack used to spend hours playing HORSE right in this very spot. Jack usually won.

Mac had invited her over for dinner, but Riley couldn’t yet bring herself to go inside. A week had passed since Jack’s funeral, but since then, that first step into Mac’s house made Riley feel like she was permanently stuck at the wake, pressed against the wall and choking on tears as fate carved a gaping hole in her chest. Mac’s house—one of her favorite places in the whole world—was heavy with sorrow and guilt.

No matter how many times Mac repeated that they shouldn’t feel guilty, the what-ifs still stuck around like shackles around Riley’s wrists and ankles. She knew Mac felt the same way, even though he hid it for her sake.

Riley barely mustered the courage to go inside.

She made it two steps in when her gaze locked on Mac, standing in the kitchen, a folded American flag in his hands.

Riley thought of Jack's promise again. If you go kaboom, I go kaboom. And suddenly she was furious. Furious at Jack for walking into a trap alone. Furious at him for dying. Furious at the government—the same government she served—that sent a flag home in place of a man. Her hands shook.

Every minute she wasn't crying, Riley was angry. She tried to direct it, use it to make sure that woman never saw the light of day again. Riley refused to even call the woman by her name. She murdered Jack. She shot Bozer. She used her power as an Interpol agent to run a terrorist organization. That bitch deserved every ounce of hatred Riley spewed at her.

But sometimes Riley was just angry at everything, and she sat somewhere quiet and stewed so she didn't take it out on someone who didn't deserve it. Riley still owed Desi an apology after nearly ripping her friend’s head off when she tried to check up on Riley a few days ago.

Mac finally looked up, his expression raw and broken. It pushed Riley over the edge. Her keys fell out of her hand, and Riley’s breathing stuttered. The all too familiar lump in her throat returned, rendering her unable to speak, and the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over, twin hot streams running down her cheeks.

Mac left the flag on the kitchen counter and strode to her, not stopping until his arms wrapped tightly around her. “I didn’t know what to do when I saw it either,” he murmured, clutching her to his chest like their lives depended on it.

Riley sobbed. She’d cried so much in the last week she didn’t think her body could produce any more tears, but they just kept coming. She weakly returned Mac's hug.

"The hole in my heart just keeps bleeding," Riley gasped. "And I don't know how to make it stop."

"I don't know either," Mac said in a rare moment of honesty. He'd been keeping up a strong front for her sake, she knew. Because if they both let go, there wouldn't be anything stopping them from drinking themselves into oblivion and hurling spite at the world.

A world that didn't deserve Jack Dalton.

Riley didn't let herself think about the fact that Jack died for nothing. Well, not completely nothing, since his death led them to the clues he'd left behind just in case. Jack's death led to Kovac being put away for good. But that would never change the fact that Jack died alone, in a trap.

Mac grunted softly. The sound pulled Riley out of her head enough to realize she'd dug her nails into Mac's back, hard enough to leave marks.

"Sorry," she whispered, barely loud enough to hear.

Mac whispered back. "It's alright, Riles."

Riles. That was Jack's nickname for her, long before it was anyone else's. Mac had picked it up after a year or so, and even Desi sometimes called her that, but above all, it belonged to Jack.

Her knees started to tremble, and Riley let Mac hold her up. Besides her mom, Mac was the only one she felt safe breaking down around. She didn't know why. She was just as close to Bozer as she was to Mac. Maybe it was because talking to Bozer still felt like sympathy and not just someone to be sad with.

"How's your mom?" Mac asked softly.

A new wave of tears, silent ones this time, rolled down Riley's cheeks. She’d spent the previous night with her mom. Riley finally told her about Jack, after receiving clearance to tell her mom everything.

It was the hardest thing she'd ever done.

"We cried a lot." Riley sniffed. "I didn't know telling her would be so hard."

She knew it would suck, but finding the courage to squeak out "Jack's dead" was almost more than she could manage.

"I could've gone with you," Mac offered.

Riley appreciated the gesture. "Thanks, but I needed to do it on my own." She wasn’t even sure which way was up anymore, but she was sure of this.

They stood there for a little while longer before Mac asked, “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Riley’s stomach turned inside out at the thought of food.

Mac’s hands got brave, roaming her body and feeling how thin she was after a week of barely eating. She could hardly manage one meal a day, much less three. Riley tensed at the intimacy of the gesture. His tone was firm. “We’re having tacos. You have to eat at least one.”

“Okay.” She knew it was pointless to argue. Mac would force-feed her if he had to.

Without thinking, she asked, "Can I sleep here tonight?" Realizing what she said, Riley quickly backtracked. "Or if you and Desi want your space I understand, and—"

Mac cut her off. "No. You can always stay here, for as long as you want." After a moment, he added, voice strained, "I want you to stay."

“Thank you,” she said weakly. Riley felt Mac’s strong façade starting to crack. She knew he couldn’t keep it up much longer, that he couldn’t hold her up forever.

Maybe then they could just lean on each other.

Jack may have left Riley and Mac behind, but at least he didn’t leave them alone. They had each other, and while they would never be able to fill the Jack-shaped hole in their lives, maybe each other would be enough to keep going.

Because as it turns out, none of them were invincible, and Riley had to figure out how to staunch the wound before she bled out on the floor.

#beth writes #macgyver #riley davis #macriley #drabble #I'M SORRY #macgyver fanfiction

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hogwartsmarvelmommy · 3 years

Text

Fallout of the century 🌑💔

Part 3 🥜

Read part 1 & part 2 here 😌

🌼🌸Masterlist🌼🌸

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: angst, car accident, moving on

The ride to the airport was quiet. I wasn't sure how Harrison managed to get tickets so soon, but I didn't question it. We made it through security and were almost ready to board when my phone rang. I looked down to see Sam's name across the screen, I answered it almost instantly, an uneasy feeling washing over me.

“Sam?” I asked.

“You need to get to the Hospital Y/N,” he was crying. I felt my head get light as a million thoughts ran through my head. I didn't say anything, I just turned and ran until I got outside. Leaving my bags and Harrison in my dust. I called a cab and went straight to the hospital. I ran in through the big revolving doors and found Tom and Sam sitting in an empty waiting room. As soon as they saw me they both wrapped their arms around me tight. It was bad, but I wasn't sure how bad.

“Where?” I asked, my voice not seeming to work.

“Surgery,” Tom sniffled, while urging me to sit. I sat down and they explained what had happened. A car had hit him in a crosswalk, while he was looking down at his phone. Guilt washed over me and consumed me. I probably cried for an hour straight, although it felt like a century. I couldn't seem to catch a breath. At some point Tuwaine and Harrison both showed up, but I didn't pay them no mind, I was to busy being consumed by my worst fears.

Surgery took almost eight hours. Eight hours with no update. Eight hours thinking that Harry was gone. Eight hours of agonizing guilt and torture in my mind.

“Holland family?” a man's voice called from behind us, Tom, Sam, and I ran over to hear the news that the doctor had. “All of you are family?” the doctor pondered.

“Twin, older brother, fiance” Sam told him.

“OK, well we were able to get the bleeding under control, unfortunately I can't promise he will wake up, but if he does, his injuries won't prevent him from living anything less than a normal life,” It was a mixture of good and bad news, but he was alive, ad that was enough of a bright side for me.

“Can we see him?” I asked.

The doctor brought us to a recovery room where Harry was laying, lifeless looking on the bed. I felt tears rush back to my eyes and I was sure I could not breathe. I walked over to the side of his bed and grabbed his hand, I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Don't you dare leave me,” I whispered, tears escaping my eyes.

The waiting game was the worst. Sam and I sat in the room for hours holding Harry's hands, waiting for a flicker of life to become present. Tom had left to go get their parents from the airport.

“You guys need to put this behind you,” Sam said quietly. I looked up to see him looking at me with sad eyes. He was right, this game of cat and mouse had to come to an end.

“I know, I’m done with this whole run around.” I told him. “I want to be with him, I want to marry him, and grow old with him. If that means forgiving and forgetting, then that's what I'll do,” I said between sniffles.

“You still want to marry me?” His voice was hoarse and sounded dry, but it was his. Both Sam and I shot our gazes to Harry's now open eyes. He was staring at me, with his dopey smirk.

“You're awake,” I cried, getting up from the chair and leaning down to hug him. I lifted my head from his shoulder and found his lips, kissing him softly before backing up to let Sam give his brother a hug.

“This whole time, all i had to do was get hit by a car?” He asked in a joking manner. Both Sam and I laughed.

“Shut up you idiot,” Sam laughed. “I'm going to go get the doctor, so he can come check you, or whatever they do,” He told us before leaving the room.

“Hey,” Harry whispered. I sat on the edge of the bed pulling his hand in between mine and listening to him. “I'm sorry about everything. I only slept with her that one time. I was just trying to hurt you,” He paused and moved his fingers so they were intertwined with mine. “Give me another chance, and I'll never hurt you again,” His words were sincere and filled with love.

“Okay,” I whispered. Leaning down and kissing him once more. “Your parents should be here soon,” I told him.

“Oh boy,” He groaned.

The next few days were spent in the hospital, so I refused to leave Harry's side. Luckily nothing had been broken so other than a scar from surgery and some minor cuts and bruises he was walking away from a run in with a car practically unscathed.

I got a text from Harrison as I was packing all the Get well cards and animals into a hospital tote bag.

‘Hey just wanted to see how you were doing, I heard he's going home today. That's great! Hopefully we can talk soon. Just to clear the air?’

I didn't respond right away. I wasn't exactly sure what to say. Sorry I led you on? Sorry I left you at the airport? Sorry I had you take care of me for the last seven months while I was broken and damaged? I didn't know.

“Are you coming home?” Harry asked me as I finished packing all the stuff.

“To help you, or for good?” I asked him, not turning around.

“Either?” He wondered.

“I don't want to go back to that apartment, Harry. I can't.” I sighed. I turned to face him, and he had a smile on his face. “What?” I was confused as to why he was smiling at me when i had just told him i wasn't coming home.

“Let's get a different place,” he told me, stepping forward and taking my hands in his. “Let's just start over,”

“What about right now?” I asked him.

“Your place?” he proposed.

“I guess for a few days that would work, but for the love of god. Do not start fighting with Harrison. Please?” I begged. He rolled his eyes and kissed my cheek.

“I have no hard feelings for him going after a prize like you,” he told me, making me roll my eyes.

“Let's go,” I laughed. We walked out of the room and out of the hospital where Sam and Tom were waiting with the car. Luckily neither of us had anything here so there wasn't much to pack back.

“Home?” Sam asked as we climbed into the back seat.

“Only so I can run up and get some clothes,” Harry said, making both of the other Hollands turn around to look at him questioningly. He shrugged his shoulders, “She doesn't want to be back at the apartment, I'm not going to make her go.”

“So does that mean-?” Tom started to ask but Harry interrupted him before he could finish.

“You'll know when I do,” He told Tom. and with that we drove to my old apartment, somewhere I hadn't been in seven months. Tom and Harry got out and went to go get a few of Harry's things, while me and Sam stayed in the car.

“So what's going to happen? Are you guys going to start dating again, or are you going to reschedule the wedding?” Sam wondered.

“I'm not sure. All I know is I want him in my life. So I guess we take it one day at a time,” I told him as I stared out the window.

“And Harrison?” Sam asked the question I was dreading.

“I love Harrison, he's my best friend, and he stepped up and took care of me when I couldn't even take care of myself. And maybe in a different life we would have ended up together, but I can't see a future with him the way I can with Harry. Even after everything we have been through, it's still Harry I see at the end of the line,”

I sat on the floor of my bedroom folding the clothes Harry had shoved into his bag. He never was one to fold his laundry so I wasn't even surprised when I opened the bag to find clothes just crumpled in. “You don't need to do that,” He laughed from where I had made him lay on my bed.

“It'll drive me nuts if I just let your unfolded clothes get all wrinkly in this bag,” I told him as I continued folding his shirts. I grabbed a pair of pants and a small white box fell out, a box I instantly recognized. I picked it up and opened it to see the ring that I had worn on my finger for nearly a year. There was a small folded up piece of paper in the box as well. I looked up to see if Harry was watching me, but his eyes were closed, so I unfolded the paper.

I know I messed up.

I'll live with the fact that I hurt you for the rest of my life.

I've known since that first time I saw you in that club that I wanted to marry you.

The first time you yelled at me for folding the towels in the apartment wrong.

The time we went to the lake and you told me to put sunscreen on my nose because you were afraid I was going to burn.

When I introduced you to my family, you didn't even second guess that you were now a part of it.

How when I took you to the pet store, you insisted we get a rescue dog instead of a puppy, because they deserved to have a good life.

How even after I did what I did, and said the things I said, you still sent me messages checking on me.

Making sure my laundry was done.

Asking if I had gone grocery shopping.

Checking to see if I had finished the milk before its expiration date.

But i think my favorite is when you texted me excitedly that one of my favorite movies was playing at the little indie theater we used to go to.

A movie I know you hate.

My heart was made for you.

We can't end this way.

I'll fight for you until it kills me.

Because at the end of the day, a life without you, is a life I would rather not live.

I sniffled as I folded the paper back up. “You were supposed to let me read that to you, not read it yourself. You know for dramatic effect,” Harry said from where he was now sitting on the bed.

“Sorry,” I muttered, wiping the tears from my eyes. “You brought this?” I asked him, referring to the ring in the box that was still in my hand.

“Thought i might need it,” He said.

“For dramatic effect?” I asked teasingly. He rolled his eyes at me. I stood up and walked over to the bed sitting beside him.

“Things aren't going to be the same,” He whispered. “Do you remember the fight we had before you left for that business trip?” I looked at him, thinking about what he was referring to.

“And why does it always have to be you?” He shouted at me as I packed my suitcase.

“Because it's my project Harry, I'm the one that organised it so i have to see it through,” I told him, keeping my calm even though he was livid.

“You were gone all last week, you have only been home a day and they're already making you go back, doesn't that seem a little unfair?” he asked me.

“Unfair to who harry? To me, or to you? You told me to go after my dreams, you told me you'd support me no matter how hard it would be. We're building these kids better lives and I get to be a part of that,” I told him as I took his hands in mine.

“I'm proud of you, for following your dreams, I am. I just feel like you're losing sight of everything you already have to chase something you want,” he pulled his hands away from me and walked out of the room leaving me alone thinking about what he said to me.

“I remember that fight vividly, and you were right. I had lost sight of everything I had, and once we finished the project, I was left alone and broken, with nothing to show for all my hard work,” I sighed as I laid my head on his shoulder.

“I should have been more supportive and understanding. I fell in love with a woman with a strong will and a good work ethic. I knew what I had gotten myself into,” he told me as he put his hand on my thigh. “I've missed you Nut, like really missed you,”

“Me or my body?” I chuckled.

“Is it wrong if I say both? Or is that the right answer?” He laughed.

There was a knock on the bedroom door. “Yeah?” I called out. Tuwaine opened the door with a grim look on his face.

“I think you're going to want to see this,” he handed me his phone which had a screenshot of an Instagram post. “My mate sent it to me asking if i knew the girl cause he was sure he'd seen us all out together at parties,” on his phone was a picture of Olivia, with a pink bow around her swollen belly captioned ‘Its a Girl!’ I looked at Harry whose jaw was practically on the floor.

“What the fuck,” was all i could think, and say.

Would life ever be easy?

I was standing at the kitchen counter, my knuckles had gone white from how hard my grip on the counter was. “Are you doing alright?” Harrison's voice startled me, but I didn't react.

“Nope,” my voice sounded like it was a million miles away. I was trying to stay calm, and not freak out, but my body was quivering with anger and I felt like my blood was boiling. Harrison put his hand on my shoulder, probably in an attempt to calm me down, but it did the opposite. “You know, I am the most genuine person. I am loving and caring. I'm respectful even if people don't deserve it. I'm always willing to lend a hand to people, even if they don't do the same. I literally work for a nonprofitable organization making next to nothing because that was my dream. I deserve a break, I deserve happiness!” I wasn't meaning to shout at Harrison, and I was sure he knew that.

“So it's his?” he guessed from my angry outburst.

“I don't know. He called her and i couldn't be in there to hear the conversation, i refuse to do that to myself,” i sighed. I leaned over the counter and rested my head on my hands.

“What if it is?” he asked.

“I don't want to think about that right now Haz,” I groaned.

“I mean, I don't blame you, but that's kinda a big deal.” he said while rubbing my back.

“I didn't sign up for this. If he had a kid prior to us getting together then it would be different. But this.. This is like the epitome of a shit show,” I told him.

I heard footsteps come down the stairs and I knew from the sound it was Harry. I didn't bother looking up. “Can you give us a minute mate?” Harry asked Haz. Harrison walked out of the kitchen leaving me and Harry alone. I couldn't move, I didn't want to look at Harry afraid his face would confirm my worst fears. “So that was an interesting conversation,” he said.

“Was it?” I asked.

“I've been avoiding her calls for months,” he said.

“Spit it out Harry,” I snapped.

“She's not positive, she said there's a chance it's mine, and a chance it's the other guys,” he said quietly.

“If it's yours?” I asked, as I stood back up.

“Huh?”

“If it is yours, what does that mean for us?” I asked him. He stood with his arms crossed, looking at me as I stared at him, waiting for an answer, but dreading the one I knew I was going to get.

“Does it have to mean something for us?” he asked in a quiet, barely audible tone.

“Harry, I know you. Well. too well. I know that if that is your child then you are going to want to be there, as a dad, and I respect you for that. But I didn't sign up to be a stepmom, I'm not even ready for my own children, let alone a child of the person I despise most in this world. I would resent that child, even if I didn't want to. I would.” I felt the tears falling down my cheeks as I said the words, feeling like an absolute monster.

“So this would be over, for real then?” He asked.

“It would,” I nodded.

“She said she would do the DNA test, and we could do it next week, so can we just forget this until then? Can we just spend the week living in a bubble?” he asked me. I looked at him, and all I could see was the boy I met at the pub almost six years ago. Goofy, an awful dancer at the time, and so full of love. So ready to give all of himself to someone, and somehow that someone was me.

“Can I get you a drink?” A voice asked from beside me. I turned to see a hot redhead next to me. The club was dark but I could make out most of his features, especially his curly, crazy hair.

“Sure,” I smiled at him as he sat down next to me at the bar.

“Can we get a beer and a,” he looked at me waiting.

“A peanut butter cup,” I told him.

“And a peanut butter cup,” He told the bartender, who got to work.

“Peanut butter alcohol drink, huh?” he asked me.

“It's good, but I just really like peanuts,” I giggled, pulling out my keys showing him the peanut key chain I had had since middle school.

“That's cute Peanut,” he said, already assigning me a pet name. I blushed as the bartender brought our drinks to us. We sat for hours talking, eventually moving to the dance floor to compare our equally awful dance moves. My phone started to ring and I noticed I had about a million texts from Olivia demanding we leave now.

“My friend,” I gestured to my phone. “I have to go,” I went to walk away but he caught my wrist in his hand.

“Will I see you again, Peanut?” he asked me.

“You will...,” I paused realizing i had never gotten his name.

“Harry. Harry Holland,” He grabbed my hand shaking it.

“I'll see you around Harry Holland,” And with that I left.

I walked over and pressed my lips to his. I didn't want to lose him. Harry Holland was my person. The one I would choose every time. Despite anything that could ever happen, it would always be him. Today. Tomorrow. Next year. Always.

Was I willing to toss the love of my life away because of something like this?

Was I willing to live with the consequences of his actions forever?

part 4

#harry robert holland #harry holland #angst #yikes #holland and co #im sorry #harry holland x y/n #harry holland smut #harry holland fluff #harry holland angst #tom holland #sam holland #harrison osterfield

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