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inglourious-imagines · 4 years

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Piece Of Cake (Fred Weasley)

Summary: Fred claims that asking a girl out to the Yulle ball is a piece of cake. Harry and Ron dare him to prove it.

Prompts: fluff list: 2 - "I don't care, just hold me." & angst list: "Try to see things in my point of view." & miscellaneous list: 4 - "My mum thinks I'm dating you." (changed a bit)

Warning: angst at the beginning, some swear words, fluff at the end

Author's Note: This is for @lunalovecroft 's 1K writing challenge! Probably it was meant to be the other way around, but that idea suddenly strucked me and I decided to give it a go. Happy reading ♡

HP Taglist: @alienoresimagines @95swifi

"You have a place in my heart no one else ever could have." - F.S. Fitzgerald

All the Yulle Ball decoration were making Y/N beyond sick, every ribbon reminding her that she still did not have a date to accompany her throughout the approaching evening. Molly Weasley was so kind to send her as a gift the most beautiful dress Y/N had ever seen in her life and now she was genuinely thinking about not going to the ball at all.

When she threw herself at the bench in the Great Hall right next to her best friend Hermione who was sitting way too far from Ron, Harry and the twins were seated. Y/N knew about the brightest witch's secret crush on the young Weasley that was slowly but surely growing into something more than just a simple crush. She'd even swear that Ron felt exactly the same about Hermione but she had to promise not to get involved or play a cupid.

"He didn't ask, did he." Y/N dared to speak up first, glancing from Hermione's sad expression on her face to absolutely oblivious Ronald just a few metres away from them who seemed to be stuffing as much food as possible into his mouth as fast as he could.

Y/N's eyes wandered from one Weasley to another, much taller one, who's smile was so contagious that she found herself grinning like an idiot for no particular reason.

"What do you think, Y/N." Hermione sighed bringing her back from her daydreaming, "guess he's not the only one who didn't ask, right?"

Y/N looked at her friend again, simply nodded as she wasn't able to react in any other way. As much as she tried not to, she felt a bit disappointed when the only person she wanted to go to the Yulle ball with, hasn't asked her.

"They've been bickering for the past 15 minutes whether asking a girl out is easy or not." Hermione stated, clearly upset with the whole situation.

"Are you serious, 'Mione? What are their points of view?"

"Well, Harry and Ron are obviously struggling to even compliment a girl in the right way but Fred reckons there's nothing easier."

The girls look at each other and burst out laughing in the next second. "Like he'd know how to ask." Y/N managed to get out of her through her laughter, "however, I must agree with Harry and Ron. They're the most oblivious idiots."

"Tell me about it." Hermione giggled but a trace of hurt flew over her face and Y/N suddenly felt really sorry for her dear friend.

"Hey Y/N!" Fred shouted out of the blue, his clear voice echoed through the Great Hall causing other students to perk up their heads in order to find out what possibly he has in mind now.

Y/N threw a look full of question marks to Hermione before turning her head to the tall red-head. "Yes?"

The moment his typical mischievous grin appeared on his face Y/N knew that something either funny and unpleasant to her or something embarrassing is about to happen.

"Will you..." Fred kept on talking as loudly as possible while wildly gesturing with his arms - apparently pretending to dance, "go to the ball..." now he was just pointing at her and him, "with me?"

Y/N's whole face turned brightly red, her nervous eyes wandering from student to student with such awaiting and amused expressions on their faces. Her heartbeat fastened in the matter of seconds that it seemed like it might jump out of her chest. Y/N looked at Hermione for help with such desperation hidden behind her gaze but her friend just simply shrugged, absolutely shocked with the sudden question, just like Y/N was.

A few seconds passed and Y/N was still sitting at her spot totally speechless. She imagined many times how Fred would ask her to the ball but never in a million years did she think it'd be like this - shouting at her in front of the whole Great Hall with absolutely no sign of sincerity or romance; to her it seemed like some sort of a bet to prove his point.

Their eyes for a moment and Y/N realized that Fred was convinced that she's going to accept his offer, confidence was basically radiating off of him. She knew he's not bragging, Fred was one of the kindest people she'd ever met but sometimes, sometimes he just wasn't able to estimate the situation.

Anger was slowly bottling up in her as she quickly stood up grabbing all her books. As much as it hurt her to say it, Y/N was still able to straighten up looking directly into his eyes. "Sorry, Weasley, not interested. But thanks for the offer, I feel flattered." The sarcasm in her voice was more than obvious.

Y/N winked at Hermione, rightly feeling satisfied with her as she heard a few laughs from many students when she walked out of the Great Hall leaving absolutely speechless and embarrassed Fred Weasley.

•••

Y/N rushed into her dormitory, not wanting to deal with anybody at the moment as the anger was slowly transforming into hurt. This wasn't what she imagined.

She threw herself at her bed; her books were casted off on the ground, papers flying all over the place.

"Y/N! Wait!" a muffled voice of the too familiar Weasley filled her ears and before she knew it, Fred was standing in the middle of her dormitory with flushed cheeks due to the long run, doors slammed shut behind him.

"Let me explain." he almost begged taking a few steps towards her. She quickly got on her feet as she shook with her head couple of times. "Please, no. I don't care if your intentions were the noblest, but it happened and that's it."

"If you could just let me talk."

But Y/N didn't see the regret in Fred's eyes, or how his hands trembled a little bit, she was way too furious to notice all these things.

"Try to see things from my point of view, Weasley! You basically shouted at me in front of the whole school if I want to go to the ball with you! I understand that you just wanted to prove something to Ron and Harry but this is not a game for me."

Every single word that left her mouth went straight to Fred's heart. He never in a million years intended to hurt Y/N, he'd rather suffer himself than have something happen to her. But he was scared, Fred felt truly terrified of asking her out and when the boys confronted him about it, he panicked. He didn't have an idea why he reacted that way. The pounding heart, sweaty palms, the hotness in his cheeks - all this was new to Fred Weasley and he wasn't sure what do to with his stormy emotions.

"I'm real sorry, Y/N. I didn't want to offend you but that doesn't mean I don't stand behind what I said earlier." he tried to ease the tense in the small room, his lips even formed into a cute little innocet smile.

"I don't know, Weasley. I simply think-"

"Let me make it up to you! The ball's tomorrow, just say yes."

Then they were there - Fred's puppy eyes that no matter how serious the problem was, Y/N wasn't able to bring herself to say no. She knew he's very well aware of that fact, he somehow managed to melt her heart.

"Fine. I'll go to the Yulle ball with you, Weasley. Don't make me regret it."

"I can certainly promise you that, Y/L/N."

•••

Y/N was nervously pacing in her new white dress that she got from Mrs. Weasley while Hermione was watching her with an amused expression.

"You know, this isn't funny." she frowned but a part of her was telling her how unreasonably ridiculous she is.

"Actually it is," her best friend couldn't held back the laughter, "you'll be fine. I bet he's even more nervous than you are."

"Hermione! His mum thinks I'm bloody dating him!"

"That's just so perfect. Maybe you will be after tonight."

Their eyes met for a moment and then, as if their minds were connected, the girls started giggling like some 13-year-olds. Y/N finally relaxed a bit, just like Hermione did, as they both promised themselves to look after each other during the evening.

"So what do you think?" Y/N winked at her friend, "shall we?"

"Absolutely."

•••

The duo walked together down the stairs leading to the dance hall, side by side, both of them smiling widely. Y/N found Fred's tall figure right away as he was nervously pacing back and forth mumbling something under his breath while George watched him amused. Just like Hermione watched her a couple minutes ago. God, how similar they could be.

"Well done, brother dear. Fucking well done." George whispered into his twin's ear tapping his shoulder. Fred's gaze immediately landed on approaching Y/N making him stop in his tracks. George just smirked and left with his own date to give them some privacy.

Fred was closely watching her every step, how elegantly she carried herself through the room, the beautiful white dress flew around her making her look like an angel descending from the sky.

"Blimey, I don't think I've ever seen something so beautiful like you." Fred breathed out, his eyes roaming all over her body.

"You don't look too bad as well, Weasley." Y/N blushed at his compliment as she sent him one nervous smile. The truth was, he looked way more better than just 'not bad' and she had to remind herself not to stare at him too much. He pulled her into his side, his scent and warmth immediately embracing her, and she found herself falling for this dangerously good looking red-head.

"Everybody's turning their heads after you. I swear I even saw a smile on Snape's face." Fred pointed out, his voice filled with obvious jealousy as his grip on her waist tightened.

"I don't care, just hold me, Fred." Y/N gave him a reassuring smile taking his hand in his, "just hold me."

"I never wanted anything more."

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spencessmile · 4 years

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Page 143 || {Part 2}

Pairing - Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary - Spencer finds your journal.

Warnings - Angst

Word Count - 1.1K

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and/or post it without my consent. Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading!

Please know that you are NEVER alone. There are people who love you. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. YOU. ARE. WORTH. IT. I LOVE YOU.

Requests are CLOSED!

Part 2!

“What the hell are you doing?!” The journal was ripped from Spencer’s hand. He looked down at his now empty hands, he was shaking. His mind was racing.

“Y/n, I, I, please,-” Your eyes were rimmed with tears, hands in fists. “Please don’t.” Those words were enough to push you over the edge.

Spencer didn’t know where to start but he knew that he had to say something; anything to let you know. Spencer couldn’t think straight but he started rambling. “You're mentally and emotionally exhausted, I get it but just don-. Please. You can’t give up. You need to stay here. You belong here. This world is twisted, dark but you’re not like that. What if I told you, I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you?”

You closed your eyes, fighting through the pain of standing still in your chaotic world. There was no getting out of this dark place where you placed yourself; the darkness was your comfort. It felt familiar.

“How could you be so selfish? Just because it hurts like absolute hell right now does not give you the right to decide you just want to give it all up and walk away from all of this!”

“All of what?” You spoke in a hoarse whisper.

“You're wrong you know. You're wrong about so many damn things,” Spencer points at you.

“About what?” Sharp pain throbbing behind your temples.

“Everything!” Spencer's loud voice echoed through you. It was piercing. “I can’t believe you don’t see what I see or, or, wha-” Spencer's words were getting stuck in his throat as his cheeks were stained with more tears. “Or what the tea-team sees. Why don’t you see it?”

“All I see is a broken, bruised, and beaten down human.”

“You want to know what I see?”

“Don’t lie to m-”

“I see a woman who is so special. I see how you go out of your way for everyone you ever meet. The way you look at people when they're talking about something, how you comfort them. The way that you’re always there for them no matter what. I see a woman who is brave, beyond words intelligent, independent, tenacious, clever, classy, powerful, driven, enthusiastic, resilient, and a fighter. God,” Spencer’s eyes were burning and getting blurry. "You are so strong.”

You reached your edge as your knees gave out of you. Instead of hitting the ground, you fell into familiar grace.

Spencer’s arms wrapped around you pulling himself closer. He grabbed your arms wrapping them around his own back, your nose picking up his sweet vanilla and coffee scent. “I got you.” A sob quacked through your body. “Let it out,” You continued to shake uncontrollably. Spencer held you closer because he felt as if you’d fade away if he were to let you go.

Spencer’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, you sobbed into his chest. All the pain, every ache, every ounce of fear that resided in your bones that lingered in your heart, you cried out on to his onyx coloured jacket.

“I’m so empty.”

“No, you're not.”

“I am Spen-” You grasp onto him tighter, it felt as if someone was sucking the air out of your lungs. “I am.” Spencer held onto you as he pushed both of you to lean against the edge of your bed. He sighed, rubbing your back.

“Listen to me, I'm going to make sure that you're alright, okay?”

“I’m pas-past savin-saving Spencer.”

“Everyone is worth saving. Even you.”

“What are you going to save?”

Spencer didn’t know what he was going to save, he didn’t know how or where to start. He spoke because all you needed to know was that someone cares for you. That someone can see you; that someone is listening to you.

The pain inside was burning into flames, setting you on fire.

“I’m tired from carrying this heavyweight.”

“I know.”

“I just want to end it.”

Spencer felt himself falling apart at your words, “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that.”

You look up, his golden brown, as beautiful as ever, “Please,” Spencer noticed your voice that was once soft like honey, was now wounded and cracked.

“I know you’re feeling really low right now and it's perfectly okay. It’s absolutely fine. But I really need you to listen to me, Y/n. Listen to me,” He grabs onto your face, holding you firmly. “You can’t stay here.”

You start to shake your head vigorously at Spencer’s words, you pull away.

“No, no, no, please. Let me go!” Spencer’s grip on you was tight but that didn’t stop you from trying. You managed to maneuver your way out of his arms. As you were pulling away, Spencer stuck his leg out, tripping you. You hit the floor with a thud, before you had the chance to run away, Spencer tackled himself on top of you.

“NO! Let me go. Please! Leave me alone. I want to go,” You cried, as he held down your hands, his tall frame overshadowing you. He gripped you by the lapels of your jacket, pulling your head into his shoulder, where you were seconds ago.

“I want to go,” You say, hitting his shoulder.

“Hey, hey, look at me! Come on, look at me. I'm right here. Ple-” You refused to pay attention to anything he was saying. “Y/n, that’s enough!” He yelled, his words burned.

Spencer noticed that your face was pale, your eyes glassy from all the tears and pain. Your arms were trembling as his grip was tight to keep you from fighting back. You started gasping in his arms, “Breathe Y/n. Come on honey, please,” The air was trapped somewhere in your body. “Follow my breathing,” Spencer grabbed your hand, placing it over his heart. “Feel that?” You weakly nodded. “Okay, now follow me.” You followed Spencer and within minutes you were catching up with your breathing.

“We can sit here for a minute or even two, but you cannot stay here, alright?”

“I like it here.”

The emptiness clashed with every pent up emotion you had left within your bones.

“No, you don’t.”

“I won’t be able to.”

“You have to.”

“It’s going to hurt like hell.”

“I know. You have me.”

Maybe that’s all you needed.

“Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” - Kahlil Gibran

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x series #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #bau #bau x reader #bau x you #bau x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds masterlist #spencessmiles fanfics

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writingtoforgetreality · 4 years

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You’re A Winchester? (Castiel x Winchester!Reader)

Request: You are so sweet, is a little sister Winchester reader good? Like in her late 20s that is their sister from another world/dimension, but they don't have a sister in their world? And she is just trying to fit into their family but she is a good hunter? It can be with Cas Meg or both, whatever you are inspired to do :) (by @sourpatchspinster), [Supernatural-Masterlist]

Part Two

Summary: You woke up in the middle of nowhere. How the hell did you get here? The last thing you remembered was being in a motel room & all of a sudden, you found yourself lost with the worst headache ever. Who would have thought your life was about to be changed forever?

Words: 5,270

Warnings: takes place in season 15 bc I want “everyone” to be alive & happy, language (do I still have to mention this?), mentions of our dear friend Chuck, angst?, innocent reader (I don’t know what happened to me during my writing break tbh), not my fav piece but I loved the request so there you go, fluff, (possible second part?), (Y/E/C) = your eye color

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Black. That was all you could see. Your head was killing you, it felt like someone tried to crush it with their bare hands. It took you a lot of strength but after a few attempts, you managed to open your eyes & were met with a blue sky. Huh…Did you fall asleep outside? No. WAIT?! Were you captured? No, you were just lying on the grass. Slowly, you got into a sitting position, looking around to figure out where in the hell you were. Unfortunately, your surroundings were unfamiliar. Taking deep breaths, you tried thinking logical for a second. The last thing you remembered was you sitting in a motel room, turning pages in an old diary your family left behind.

You had never met any of your family, growing up in a children’s home because…well, you had no idea if you were completely honest. Throughout the years, you had been to multiple foster families but in the end, you always ended up back at the children’s home. Not that you cared too much. It was not like you ever felt like you belonged with them anyway. On your 18th birthday, Sally, one of the employees, came into your room with a small package in her hand. That was the first time you had ever received a gift.

“It says I should give it to you today.” she handed you the small wrapped gift with a genuine smile on her face.

“What is it?” your curiosity got the best of you.

“Open up & see, I guess. I have no idea.” & with that she left you alone once again.

The day you got the diary was when you left the children’s home for good. You could not believe what you had read. Apparently, you did have a family. Or so it seemed. But why the hell had you never met them? And why the hell did it seem like your family suffered from psychological problems? Schizophrenia? To be honest, you did not care about that. The only thing that mattered to you was that it seemed like you had a father & two brothers out there somewhere. It looked like your mother had died a while ago…

~back to your confused ass self~

Being alone out in the middle of nowhere was not particularly comforting. What scared you even more was that you did not even have your stuff with you. Where was your diary? Your phone did not matter to you that much, neither did your clothes. It was not like you owned much to begin with. But that diary? That meant the world to you. Even after years of unsuccessful searching for your family, you never gave up. Because deep down, you knew you would come across them eventually.

Coming to a standing position, you dusted off the dirt that was on your clothes. A black car in the distance caught your attention. What was a car doing out here in the middle of nowhere? Maybe your kidnappers were driving it & brought you here? That thought let your heart race. Yet, you found yourself moving closer to the car. The closer you got, the more you could make out. Was that a ’67 Impala? Out here? And it looked like it was in great condition? If you had enough money you would buy a similar car & you sure would treat it the same way that the Impala’s owner did.

You risked a look inside the Impala, finding it relatively empty, but before you could spend much longer admiring it, you saw something silver in the corner of your eye. Was that a…door? Okay, yeah, you were definitely kidnapped. But not by professionals, that was for sure. Not the right time to joke? Okay, okay, right. Upon closer inspection, you noted that it was most likely a door to a bunker. Why you did not run right away, you were not sure. Something about this place felt like…home. Huh, weird. How could you be so anxious yet so at peace all at once? Only one way to find out. Oh boy, you would so regret this later.

Before you could think too much, your hand was moving towards the door, ready to push. Surprisingly, it was not locked. You had to push your entire weight against the door to keep it moving since it was so damn heavy. By now, your legs were moving on their own & all of a sudden you were standing inside a…bunker? There was not much to make out because your eyes had to adjust to the dark inside at first.

It sounded like footsteps were approaching fast but because of the echo in the bunker you could not quite tell where they were coming from. There was one thing you did notice, though, & it was the fact that there was more than one person coming your way. Fuck.

“HANDS IN THE AIR!” the click of a gun was followed after the loud voice. Obeying, you put your hands up even though you were sure nobody could see what you were doing anyway. It was still dark after all. Right this instance, light illuminated the room & you were stunned by how big the bunker was. Eyes wide, you looked around, only to find you were upstairs & the voice you heard was coming from beneath you. Gazing around, your eyes fell on two broad looking men, both of them pointing a gun at you. Fucking great. You should have run.

“DOWN. NOW.” the shorter one of the two yelled once again. Not wanting to mess with them, your legs moved towards the stairs & slowly you got down, not once letting your eyes move away from the man with the shorter hair. He seemed like the bigger threat. While the taller man looked scary as hell too, he held something behind his eyes that eased you a tiny bit more.

“Who are you & what are you doing here?” this time it was the taller man who spoke up & you had to take back your previous thought. He was scary as shit, especially with his voice sounding like he was up to no good.

“Um, I-I swear, I don’t know. I-“ but your attempts were cut short.

“Cut the bullshit right there. Did Chuck send you?”

“Chuck?” your eyebrows raised up, showing your genuine confusion.

“Dean, I don’t think she’s with Chuck.” the one with the longer hair mumbled. Dean? Huh. The name made you think of your lost diary again. You hoped you would find it eventually.

“Sit down & start talking.” he was not to be messed with so you followed both men further into the bunker until you reached a huge table. Choosing one of many chairs, you sat down but still eyed the guns that were no longer pointed at you but still very much a threat. The men each took a seat opposite of you, putting the guns on the table in front of them. At least they were not holding them anymore. You noticed you held your breath & again, started taking slower ones to calm yourself.

“I’m Sam & this is my brother Dean. We won’t hurt you, just…who are you?” what a coincidence. Brothers Sam & Dean. Were you dreaming? Of course, why did you not think of this sooner? It would make sense.

“My name’s (Y/N).” your voice was barely above a whisper & your eyes shot down to your lap, suddenly feeling small.

“(Y/N), okay. Well, (Y/N), um, why are you here?” Sam’s voice was a lot softer than at the beginning. Dean had not said anything else, he simply looked at you sternly, still thinking you were a threat. You did not even have weapons on you. Hell, you did not even know how to fight in the first place. But clearly they did not know that. Fuck it, if you were about to die then you could actually tell the truth, right? What did it matter? Your voice was quiet but loud enough so the boys could hear you.

“One moment I was reading through a dia- book & the next I wake up in the middle of nowhere with the worst headache ever. I saw the Impale parked outside & then found the door. I don’t know where I am, I don’t even know why I thought opening this damn door would be a good idea.” a slight chuckle was all you could muster right now. Hopefully they would believe you. When neither of them said anything for a few moments, you looked up & saw them eyeing each other, having a silent conversation.

“What book were you reading?” this time it was Dean but his voice was a lot kinder now. The boys knew you were not a supernatural being, the bunker was safe when it came to that & you would have not been able to enter otherwise. Yet, you were confused by his question? That was really all he cared about? Not the fact that you had no clue where you were or how you got here? Not wanting to anger him, you answered, looking him straight into the eyes.

“My dad’s diary. Nothing special, why?” a noise coming from the entrance made you look towards the door. There sure were quite a lot of people for being in the middle of nowhere. Your conversation was cut short when a voice spoke up.

“Sam! Dean! I salted & burned the bones! Case done! Well, Castiel helped me but he said he was proud of my work.” how could someone sound so excited about…burning bones? What the fuck?

“Jack did a good job today.” the other person spoke up. He was wearing a trench coat & his voice was deep, deeper than the others. Obviously, they had not noticed you yet but a look at Sam showed you how uncomfortable he was. At this point, you were more than confused. Salting & burning bones? Why did this sound familiar though? Shit. No way. Your dad’s diary was filled with salting & burning stuff. What was happening to you?

“Uh, guys…” Sam got up & approached the two men who were called Jack & Castiel. Somehow, your gaze fixed on the man in the trench coat. He looked good. Again, wrong timing, (Y/N). Get it together! Jack & Castiel saw you & their faces turned into confusion.

“Who’s that?” Jack asked, his voice did not scare you, he sounded sweet. He seemed like a kind person.

“Jack, Cas, this is (Y/N). She showed up in the bunker out of nowhere.” Dean eyed you once more before getting up himself. Frustration could be felt & you hated that you were the one causing it. Never was it your intention to cause trouble in their lives but it looked like you just did by opening that damn door.

“Could you all maybe sit down? It makes me nervous when you’re all pacing like that.” you were surprised by your own voice. Usually you were never one to intervene, especially not in a situation like this. But you were exhausted & all you wanted was just to get back to your motel & these were the only people who could help your right now. All eyes shot to you & to your surprise, they began walking towards the table. Sam & Dean, taking the seats opposite of you. Castiel sat down right next to you & you hated how your heart skipped a beat by this simple action. You did not even know this man, he could be a killer. Jack took the chair next to Castiel & Sam made it his job to explain your situation briefly. All you could do was listen, your hands fiddling in your lap, still somewhat anxious to be here.

“Cas? Isn’t there a way you could…I don’t know, check her memories?” Dean added right after Sam finished explaining. Your confused face shifted between the two men, not understanding a single word. How could a stranger help you with your memories?

“I could try. But I need your permission to do that.” while saying the last part, his eyes looked straight into your (Y/E/C) ones. Damn, his eyes. His head tilted slightly & it was only then when you registered that he had asked you a question & you simply stared at him.

“Um, permission for what?”

“To take a look at your memories & see what you remember. We could help you after that.” his voice was so casual, as if he had done this multiple times. To you, though, it sounded like he was crazy.

“Right. And you can do that because…?”

“Because I’m an angel of the Lord.” Castiel stated. A what of the what now? A short laugh escaped you. Not because you laughed at him but because you were shocked & confused.

“Cas…” Sam mumbled & put his head in his hands. That was something he had wanted to keep from you. He had a feeling you had no idea about the supernatural & he wanted to keep it like that.

“You can trust him, (Y/N).” Dean chimed in.

“Will it hurt?” not that you were scared of the pain, your pain tolerance was pretty high but on the other hand, he had just told you he was an angel.

“Only a little.” Cas gave you a reassuring smile & that was when you decided you would let him do it. Because, frankly, you did trust him. Even though he might have some sort of mental illness.

Sam, Dean & Jack left the room to give Castiel some time to prepare & to give you time to calm down. He could tell by the way your leg was bouncing that you were highly uncomfortable but he was not sure how to help. His idea was to get it done quickly & then to bring you back where you came from. Hopefully, you would not ask too many questions. He already gave too much away by saying he was an angel. Replaying your face when he had said it eased him a bit. You did not look convinced at all which was probably for the best.

“Try to breathe more evenly, it’ll help.” you could tell he was trying to make this easier for you but you just wanted to get it done.

“I’m ready, let’s do this, please.” the plea at the end was almost inaudible but Castiel could hear it anyway.

Your eyes closed as you saw Castiel approaching. His fingers touched your temples gently but the next thing you felt was a short but piercing pain shooting through your entire body. It only lasted a few seconds & the only words you could make out before you fell unconscious were “You’re a Winchester?”.

“What do you mean she’s a Winchester?” Dean asked with shock written all over his features.

“She’s related to us?” it was Sam, he took the information way better than his older brother.

“Your sister, to be exact.” Castiel paused briefly, waiting if one of the boys wanted to add anything. He took their silence as a sign of continuing. “Her father’s diary, the one she was reading before she got here, it was John’s.”

“Wait, wait, wait…WE have his diary. There’s no way she has it. Besides, we would know if we had a sister.” Dean gestured with his hands to get his point across. He had never seen you, you could not have stolen the book from them.

“You’re right. But in her world, she was the one owning it. In her world, you guys are her brothers.”

“In her world? What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam decided to join the conversation, now wanting answers himself.

“She’s from an alternate universe. I expect she was reading through a spell or something similar & somehow she got sucked into our reality. From what I’ve seen in her head, the portal closed itself behind her so if she has no idea how she opened it & got here…well, it could be hard to bring her back. Besides, I’m not so sure she wants to go back there…” Castiel’s voice got quieter at the end of his sentence.

“Why not?” Dean imagined himself in your situation & he would do anything to get back.

“It’s not really my place to tell, I believe.” & before Dean could argue any further, Jack came running into the room.

“(Y/N)’s awake.” to that everyone followed behind him to one of the many bedrooms the bunker had to offer.

You were tired but the pain had completely disappeared. No matter how hard you tried, you still could not remember how exactly you got here. The door creaked & you looked up to find Sam, Dean, Castiel & Jack entering the room. You were no longer scared. Probably because you were way too exhausted to care.

“So?” you spoke up after a few seconds of silence. Castiel stepped forward & took a seat at the end of the bed you were lying in. His ocean blue eyes looked you over, making sure you no longer were in any pain. You nodded at him to show you were fine & with that Castiel told you what he had seen. It was a lot to take in but your tired state simply made you nod at everything he explained.

“The thing is…We don’t know how to get you back.” Sam approached you slowly, took a seat in a chair next to your bed.

“Cas?” ignoring Sam’s statement, you only had one question on your mind. Back in your world, you had spent years looking for your family. For your brothers. The ones being in the same room with you right now. Also, when did you start calling Castiel by his nickname? When did that happen? His humming gave you enough confidence to continue.

“Are they alive back home?” you did not have to mention names for Castiel to know who you were referring to. His face turned into one of sadness & you knew the answer without him saying anything.

“I don’t wanna go back.” every ounce of uncertainty was gone, you knew it was fate that you were here with all of them now. The four men shared a look, having a silent conversation again. Dean nodded but left the room a second later.

“Don’t mind him, he just needs time to process.” Sam’s sympathetic smile relaxed you a bit. The bunker was nice, so was the fact that you practically met your brothers but you were not planning on staying with them. Dean’s reaction showed you why. They had lived their lives without knowing they had a sister. You, on the other hand, had known about your brothers for years & yet you did not feel the satisfaction you had so desperately hoped for after finally finding them.

“It’s fine, I’ll get going soon.” with that, you sat up straight & tried standing up. A wave of dizziness kept you from doing so. Castiel was at your side in an instant & guided you back down.

“You need to rest.” he told you.

“You’re not staying?” Jack’s voice erupted from the door. You had almost forgotten he was there too. Your eyes focused on him briefly before you looked back down again, a blush slowly making its way up on your cheeks.

“It’s for the better. I’ll be fine.”

“(Y/N). You’re our sister. Doesn’t matter if you’re from here or from another world. You’re family. We just found each other, we won’t let you leave again.” Sam’s words made you tear up. He did not know you, yet he told you that you were family & he wanted you to stay. For the first time, you felt like you belonged somewhere & you were overthrown with emotions. Since Castiel was closest to you, he sat himself next to you, threw an arm over your shoulder & pulled you into his chest. Usually, you hated crying in front of people but right now you could not care less. Besides, being in Castiel’s embrace felt right. What was it about him? Neither of them left the room, all staying with you for as long as you needed. When you could not feel more tears flowing down your cheeks, you slowly removed yourself from Castiel, immediately missing the warmth of his body. If you were about to stay here, he would be trouble, you could feel it already. Sam, Castiel & Jack then left the room, telling you to get some more rest & to scream for one of them if you needed anything. Details could be discussed another time.

They were right, you needed sleep. Time to sort your thoughts. Maybe that was the reason why you entered the bunker in the first place. Why you were not concerned about them brutally killing you. After waking up, you were more comfortable with the idea of sticking around with the boys. Sam told you Dean would come around eventually & you just hoped he was right. Getting up, you paddled to the door, quietly opening it since you did not know how late it was. There was a long hallway that looked exactly the same, no matter what direction you were looking at. Distant voices could be heard so you followed them & prayed you would not get lost in that labyrinth of a bunker. You had to ask your brothers a question. Your brothers. It felt weird to call them that but they were, right? Back home, you had read through your dad’s diary about a thousand times. You were familiar with what he wrote about. He called himself a hunter. Sadly, you were not about to meet him. Castiel had told you that he had died a long time ago. Sam & Dean were the only family you had left.

“Um, hi.” you made yourself present & Dean turned around to meet your eyes. He looked a lot less tense, thank God.

“Slept well?” at least he was attempting to start a conversation with you. Nodding your head, you walked over to where Jack was sitting. Dean spoke up again.

“Hey, sorry for how I acted earlier. It was just a lot at once. I do want you to stay. We do.” he emphasized his words. This made you smile. At first you were not sure about how Dean would react but this showed you that he was trying & that was enough. Telling him it was fine, you sat down next to Jack & looked over at what he was reading. The book was old but the condition it was in was surprisingly well. A cup was placed in front of you by Dean & you thanked him. He brought you coffee.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Where is Sam? I wanna ask you guys something.” feeling silly with how you put it, way more dramatic than it actually was.

“Right here.” Sam entered the room, walked past Dean & straight to you. A pat to your shoulder eased the tension a little.

“What is it?” Dean seated himself on top of the table.

“Okay, so…I just want you guys to be honest with me, okay?” both men nodded, Jack was lost in his book, he did not even hear you conversation. You continued.

“Monsters are real & you hunt them?” their eyes widened at your question but deep down they expected something like that. The diary you owned was filled with the supernatural.

“Yeah, we do. It’s kinda the family business.” Dean chuckled at the end. You were family but clearly you had never hunted any monster before.

“Okay.” was all you answered.

“Okay? That’s it? You’re not running outta the door?” Sam could not believe you. He expected you to freak out. On the other hand...you were a Winchester.

“I don’t know about you, Sam, but I let an angel of the Lord look into my head. Monsters don’t sound too crazy after this.” all of you laughed out. “So, you guys hunt the supernatural. Castiel is an angel? And Jack? What is he? Your trainee?” the mention of his name made Jack look at you & before the boys could answer your question, Jack decided to take matter into his own hands.

“I’m a nephilim. The offspring of a human & an angel. Lucifer is my father but not really, you know. My mother died when I was born but I have Sam, Dean & Cas. They are my family.” his smile was too pure for this world but the way he so casually talked about the fact that he was Lucifer’s son had you stunned.

“Sure.” was all you could manage at that point. Jack’s smile grew wider & he got back to reading.

“Welcome to our world? I guess?” Sam’s smile was faked but if you were honest, you could imagine yourself being thrown into this mess. Nothing you could not handle.

~a few months later~

“Guys? Have you seen Cas?” you came running into the kitchen where Sam & Dean were having breakfast.

“What? You boyfriend ditched you?” Dean teased & earned a slap from Sam. You simply rolled your eyes at him. Your brothers realized very soon after coming to them that you had a big crush on Cas & Dean loved to mess with you.

“Shut up, asshole. We’re about to leave for the case in Wisconsin but he’s not here.”

“I haven’t heard from him but come on, sit down & have breakfast with us.” Sam offered. You walked over to the boys & sat down next to Dean who handed you a cup of coffee right away. Your smile was a thank you enough.

“Seriously, though. When will you tell him?” Dean munched on his food, not even looking at you but you knew the question was directed at you.

“That we’re leaving for the case? He knows that, Dean.”

“That you like him.” scoffing could be heard. Sam enjoyed your banter in silence. That was one indicator that you were a their sister. After warming up to them, they found out you were actually a lot like Dean. This made you guys argue more often, never too severe, mainly siblings teasing each other.

“Right, & then we’ll have that apple pie life. Is that what you want? Dean, he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Yeah, he does. Poor dude is a mess whenever he talks to you.” again, you simply rolled your eyes at him. Yes, Cas could be awkward when you guys talked but then again, this was Cas.

“(Y/N)?” Cas came into the kitchen where he could hear voices. Immediately your head snapped up & a smile started forming. An action that did not go unnoticed by both, Sam & Dean. Neither mentioned it though.

“There you are, I got worried for a second.” you got up & pulled Cas into a hug. That was nothing special. The two of you hugged each other all the time. Another thing that Dean commented on a lot of the time. Apparently, Cas had never been much of a hugger before you had come around. You simply shrugged it off even though, deep down, your heart skipped a beat at the idea of you being the reason for his change.

“Jack needed to talk to me, I’m sorry.”

“No problem, are you ready?”

“Yes, we should get going anyway.”

“Alright, bye boys.” whenever one of you got ready for a hunt, you made sure to say goodbye properly. You never knew. The last few months, your brothers had helped you with the basics of hunting. If they were honest, it felt like you were born to be a hunter. You picked up the skills quickly & learned a lot about the supernatural in a very short time. Cas told you that it probably was because you were always meant to be here. After a while, you started believing him. At first, Sam & Dean told you you were not allowed to come on a hunt with them but after realizing that you were good at what you did, you became an inherent part of the team which you were grateful for. Now, they even let you leave with Cas, a big step forward.

“Your bag’s already in the trunk.” Cas pointed at the back of the car.

“Thanks, Cas.” you lovingly smiled at him. Yeah, you were totally into him. Cas stopped briefly & got closer to you. Yet, he made sure to keep a little bit of distance between the two of you.

“Why don’t you tell me?” he whispered & you felt like you could not breathe for a second. Had he heard your conversation with Dean earlier?

“W-What?” you hated how weak & nervous your voice sounded. Why could you not play it cool? Why did you have to make a fool out of yourself? Before you could even process what was happening, Cas slowly leaned in & pressed his lips to yours softly. You were too shocked to kiss him back, not knowing if it was really happening right now. Cas pulled back & he looked rather uncomfortable. Your face was still full of shock.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done this. Just…Dean told me you liked me & then I heard your conversation & I thought you might-“ you cut his rambling off by pulling him close again. This time you kissed him & he lost no time in kissing you back. You let yourself get lost in the moment. You had dreamed about this particular moment for months & the fact that it was happening right now? Your body was on fire. When the both of you pulled apart for air, you could see Cas’ smile & you were sure your were blushing like crazy.

“So, Dean was right?” Cas’ hands settled on your waist & it felt natural. As if you had done it a thousand times.

“Remind me to kill him after this case.” you laughed & pulled Cas into a hug. He tightened his arms around you. Who would have thought, all those months ago, that you would end up with an actual family?

“Wasn’t he our…how do you call it? Wingman?” Cas chuckled after planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. He released you from the hug & you moved over to the passenger side. Your elbows were propped up on the hood & a smirk started forming at the corner of your mouth.

“Still. I told him to keep it to himself & he is my brother. I think I have permission to kill him for this.” of course you were joking & if you had to be honest, you were kind of glad that Dean could not keep his mouth shut. Cas walked over to the car, shaking his head at you but you could still see a small smile, opened the door & got in. You smiled to yourself. Finally, you knew that Cas did like you too. Where you were going from there? You were not sure yet. But there was a case you had to finish & it would take a few days to get it done. That would be enough time to figure out what you two were but you had a good feeling about this. It felt right & you had a home with people you loved & cared for. You were meant to be here from the start.

~to be continued?~ (let me know)

Part Two

Published (03/18/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @teelagurl558, @babymango-writes, @hollymac79 (thanks for your support <3)

220 notes · View notes

kreidewaltz · 4 years

Text

top of the castle | t.k.

pairing. tsukishima kei x f!reader

about. your only goal is to be on top of everything. every change he gets, he pushes your buttons and does things that stirs something inside you. it's totally not your heart beating wild in your chest.

word count. 6.3k (this is my baby)

genre & warnings. fluff. angst. swearing. sky castle and highschool au. lots of swearing. happy ending. parents are kind of a jerk. subtle pining. enemies to lovers. bestfriend!kuroo. film major!tsukishima and y/n.

author's note. ik i posted this super late but here it is!! this is part of the promptly yours collab by issy :D ty for being understanding kisses you !? this is my first time writing an e2l go easy on me pls :( quick overview: sky castle is a neighborhood for the rich, and they do everything to be ahead of the other families! big thank you to @rintsuru for beta-ing this mwah i'll edit some stuff here tomo :') reblogs & feedbacks are appreciated ty <3

part of the promptly yours collab ✪

“during the dinner, entertain the guests, and kaa-san will be proud of you.” your mom says whilst brushing your hair multiple times. she sends you a threatening smile in the mirror which forms annoyance in your mind, yet a fake smile ghosts your lips. you clench your fist on your pockets, fingernails digging hard into your palms. last night she came to your door, unannounced, and mentioned that she’ll be having a private party after sending your applications to SNU Medical School.

“time to relax after working hard, a reward too for the parents.” you recall her saying, while running her fingers on your head before she shuts the door. the excitement evident in her movements when you hear the repetitive clicks of her heels. you play with the hem of your pajamas as you mimic your mother’s voice in distress, huffing after while you cross your arms on your chest. if she sees you roll your eyes or heave a disappointing sigh, expect a lecture about manners that'll go on for a few minutes.

when you entered middle school, she started to be strict and always repeated that you’re “only going to be successful when you’re on the top of the castle”. the metaphor she often forces in your mind—enjoying your success and growing money. watching other people force their way to the entrance, but this is where her persona morphs into something sickly sweet. she uses her shit ton of money to compromise, and those people leave as if they never disturbed your castle. in her eyes, you’re the embodiment of an independent, hardworking, and stepping on others kind of student which is something you want to erase.

“sit straight, act interested, act modest—”

“bring down the rivals, except kuroo.” you cut your mother off while a subtle smirk appears on your face, running your makeup brush on your powder blush before putting it to your cheeks. she stops for a moment, the silence makes your palms sweat on your school blazer, but relief washes over you when she murmurs okay, good. the moment is interrupted when your dad screams on the other side, assuming that he’s finding her and checking the table set-up for approval. she gives your shoulder a harsh squeeze before leaving you alone in your room, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“bring down tsukishima.” raising your brows, you try to keep yourself sane because people saying his name irks you. his stupid voice and looks down on you just because of the height difference. he looks down on you when he’s done harm to you years ago, and to the Hara family. when the school year started, you had no clue that he attended Yongsan School for Seoul. his presence immediately annoys you to your bones and when he talks, you have the urge to tape his mouth and watch him struggle and enjoy that he’s suffering. when he enters the room, you almost stand up from your seat and protest but you keep your lips shut. attempting to bottle your resentment and continue with the basic introductions and orientations for the school year.

what he did in middle school is the main factor why you resent him.

“your highness!” he yells as soon as you enter the classroom, sending tsukishima a sarcastic smile before you sit comfortably. you try your best to not be grumpy at eight in the morning. good thing that the teacher isn’t here, or you’re in for another lecture about that you should get along and be humble with your classmates.

lame lame lame.

“yeah, i’m a princess hm!” you point a finger at him while you put on a grumpy expression before putting your hands on your waist. huffing a few seconds later, you look through your bag and prepare your cute notebook and pencil. you begin to check the schedule for the day on the first page before reviewing the past few lessons, skimming it with attention that you mentally practice yourself, and clench both of your fists in excitement when you got the right answer. you cross your legs while checking your notes, eager to start the day because you're feeling productive, and seeing the stamps of stars on the first page makes you ecstatic.

“hara y/n, did you hit tsukishima?” your teacher’s voice is stern which scares you, but what frightens you is your mother hearing about the issue. you fiddle with your fingers as you rub your eyes, desperately trying to hold the tears threatening to fall. you and tsukishima are left alone in the classroom, with the teacher sitting across from you. the beautiful sunset view from the window is giving you temporary solace, releasing a sigh before answering.

“no, sensei! he- he hit me!” your voice unintentionally going higher, not realizing that you’re getting defensive. you stand from your chair and stare at him, fuming with anger when you see the smirk forming on his face. the teacher sighs in disappointment since he knows you’re one of the top students this year. your attendance streak is all green, never missing a day. what they don’tknow is how your mother forces you to always go to school no matter what happens, that school is the only path to success.

i hate tsukishima, hmph.

“she did, sensei. you saw her holding the book.” your patience is on thin ice because he has the audacity to lie in front of the teacher when he knows he did it. he slaps the book against the back of your desk and you feel the impact on your shoulders, resulting in a high pitched scream and break the momentum of your classmates writing and your teacher narrowed his eyes at you, shaking his head in displeasure before writing on the blackboard. then you hastily grab the book he's holding and about to throw it on his desk but gasps echo on the room. from their perspective, you're about to hit tsukishima with his book while he's looking across, focused on the discussion that's interrupted.

"you hit me with the book!" frustration slowly seeping out while you bounce on your desk angrily. your pigtails get tangled which fuels your irritation. life likes bad boys, you thought while mocking him by copying his expressions, forgetting for a moment that your teacher is watching you make faces on your own. tsukishima waves his hand, fisting his other hand to put it in the pocket of his purple jacket. the loud bell rings and ends the discussion, and you sulk on your seat while he prepares his things. your teacher walks out of the classroom to call your mom, you assume, because of the way he takes a glimpse at you while holding his phone to his ear.

i don't want to go home.

“i didn’t do it!” you keep repeating the same sentence as you set a foot in the house. your small hands clutch the strap of your backpack tight, agitated on what she’ll have to say on what happened. your teacher called your mom and had a quick discussion while you bowed to your mom before going home. the awkward silence caused you to grab your backpack and stand behind her, looking down on your shoes to distract yourself. when the both of you entered the car, she didn’t spare you a glance, even on the rearview mirror. the good thing is your favorite song is playing which soothes your worries temporarily. but the car ride was mentally exhausting and your nervousness kept boiling in your chest.

"the one time life is well! and you had to do that." sitting on the edge of your bed, disappointment and frustration join forces in your head while you clench your fist tight. tears trail down your cheeks freely and you have to grip your shorts so you wouldn't explode. hearing her sigh loudly makes you look at your hands to distract yourself from thinking while you sniffle quietly to yourself because your mom tells you to mask your true feelings with other people.

"i'm your princess! i didn't do it!" bouncing on your bed to defend yourself while she doesn’t say anything. she goes to your study table and grabs some of your books and pens. you looked at her in distress, tears forming in your eyes, since your mom's punishments are something you avoid if you have the chance.

“ah long time no see! come in!” your mom cheerfully greets when you see the Oikawa family entering the house, bowing down in respect with a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. he acts like a prince charming when he bows, trying to charm your mother. she acts as if she’s swooned by his alluring smile before she rushes the family to enter the extravagant room, eyeing oikawa while he fixes the buttons of his school blazer. you and oikawa had a while you’re flipping the pendant of your necklace, the loud banter on the stairs a few meters away gets your attention.

“oh! kuroo looks dashing as usual!” she clasps her hands together, the gold rings on her fingers clashing and creating light noises which only you could hear. after they pick up on your mother’s voice, kuroo abruptly stops arguing and casually puts his right hand in his pocket. his mother gives you a soft wave and pecks your mother on the cheeks. you’re not in europe. the thought comes to mind while they chit chat. his father comes to the dining table, leaving you with kuroo for a few minutes. you extend your other leg in the front, putting your hands on your waist, and when you catch his monotone gaze. kuroo looks to the side while the tip of his ears slowly become red.

“ah! i’m glad our parents are okay.” you whisper in front of him while you pat your cheeks and put on your serious expression because your mother always tells you to act elegant when there are guests. a sympathetic smile appears on his lips, knowing why you changed your face in seconds—because you have a reputation to hold.

“mhm, okay talk to you later.” he says before lightly bumping your shoulder with his fist which you return with the same force while a smile dances on your balmed lips. the both of you don’t notice his mom’s gaze softening because of your brief chat.

“yuuji! you should’ve brought your vest!” your mom giggles when she hears the voice of the Terushima family. her covers her mouth with her hand (also her way of showing off her accessories). his mom’s voice is pretty loud so you hear her clearly when they’re on the stairs. a childish whine leaves his lips while his almond eyes begin twinkling in excitement seeing the grand decoration on the entrance. “oh hi y/n! pardon me, and yuuji.” his mom is always enthusiastic and humble.

you raise a brow when you notice the piercing on terushima’s ears. “you pierced?” you point a finger at his ear before the smirk on his face grows, knowing that you’re not allowed to get pierced or tattooed under your parent’s household.

“yeah, you want one?” he leans in with a teasing smirk on his face and slowly licks his bottom lip, and you get a glimpse of his tongue piercing. a tsk leaves your lips before you push him away with your clenched hands. your mom intrudes in your conversation and pulls you to her chest. your mom’s thoughts about you not listening to her and actually getting piercings are running like a hamster on a wheel. his mom covers her face with the palm of her hand, thinking that she won’t get used to terushima bragging about his piercings and possibly influencing his friends to get one. your mom giggles about him and repeatedly pats his back, escorting the Terushimas to their seats at the table—a long and wide one she bought for this day, and a few hours later, the cleaners will struggle to put the furniture back on the basement.

“ah n/n! wait for tsukishima, alright?”

your mom waves her fingers with a smile plastered on her face, leaving the entrance in your hands. going rebel sounds intriguing but you decided to go against it. you intertwine your fingers together and put them behind your back, walking around back and forth along with an occasional twirl because the black skirt whirling is satisfying for your eyes. annoyance bubbles in your chest when she mentions his name, and the fact you’ll escort them all the way to their seats at the table. relief courses through you when she picks their seats further away from your vision.

good, i can’t stand his golden eyes at—

“dear y/n, always elegant like her mother!” your dad mentions while the food is being served. the maids delicately hold the plates even though the appetizer only consists of green leaves, a drizzle of oil and other vegetables mixed in. a confident smile comes to your face while the boys giggle along with their parents, knowing that they nudge their waist to go with the flow and attempt to be your parents’ right hand and be their disciple. kuroo kicks your feet under the table while a subtle smirk on his face, and before you could misunderstand his intentions, he eyes the other parents then quickly rolls his eyes after. the clanking of the plates and forks begin to ring your ears and you immediately connect the clues on what he likes to say.

look at them, trying to get on your parents’ side.

you lightly slap his knee with your foot to get his attention, and you successfully do so while not realizing that about to take a bite of the vegetables. while kuroo thinks about embarrassing himself, again, despite that your parents and the other boys are lost in their own conversations, you take a big bite of everything that’s on the plate, not noticing your mom’s stern gaze on your figure. when he’s finished fixing his hair, he raises his brow while you cross your arms over your chest, nodding in defeat while rubbing your forehead, mimicking those disappointed adults you’ve seen in dramas. he covers his mouth while his eyes crinkle, controlling the laugh he desperately wants to let out. you massage your shoulder for a moment because it’s getting uncomfortable but you have to keep your act—act like you have your shit together in front of the guests.

“oh! oikawa-kun, how’s the japanese lit for you?” initiating a conversation between your rivals while the parents reacted quietly to themselves, as if they’re going to witness harsh exchange with words until emotions overtake your head. this is the sky castle, you think while straightening your posture, satisfied when you get a glimpse of him jolting on his seat before putting on his charming facade and entertaining your question.

“easy peasy! bet i’ll get a perfect score.” he runs his hand through his hair, fixing his school blazer and acts mighty with the other people around.

terushima begins to tease him by making faces to push oikawa’s buttons, and you tap your mouth with the tissue before dropping the bomb and witness his face morph to dread. “you know that i check the papers too, right? you’ve got three mistakes already.” bring down people so you can walk forward, you think while oikawa’s eyes are large like the globes you use for geography class. you loosely intertwine your fingers as you press your cheek on your palm. your mom peeks at you, amused, at your actions that she fights the urge because a smile is threatening its way on her deadpanned face since the beginning of the dinner. the other parents whisper to themselves, especially Oikawa’s parents who look at you with distaste occasionally when they talk. the maids are astonished with your attitude since you're a sweetheart, in the time where your mom is out and does her daily shopping to further decorate the house.

as the dinner continues, you're mentally patting yourself on the back for doing a great job to keep your castle undisturbed. you didn't notice the blonde fighting the urge to smirk to himself because it's the first time he witnessed you being brazen. he takes a big sip of the water, stretching his hands and resting it on his back as he catches your eyes which widens his smirk. resulting to strengthen your rage—and the fact that you're enjoying how attractive he looks.

ugh, let's get this over with.

“what? never expected me to be on top?” a condescending tone laces your voice as you cross your legs, the exhaustion you carried throughout the dinner is dissipating when you rest your back on the chair. feeling a certain pair of golden eyes piercing your soul, you intentionally ignore the sweating of your palms and curl your toes inside your shoes because you keep moving as long as you feel his eyes focused on you. the sassy persona you’ve worked hard lasting long is crumbling, as if tsukishima is taking his time to disassemble the pieces.

“finally we’re away.” terushima whispers to no one before running his fingers on his hair. all of your parents settled on the tea room as your mom calls it to chit chat and relax for a few hours and you know she'll subtly brag about your achievements in school and the furniture around the house that are only available to the rich she quotes.

"away from our parents who force their dreams to us? hell yeah." oikawa added before stretching his neck, the table erupting into laughter because what he said is the truth.

"hey! too mean." narrowing your eyes at him and seconds later you realized how contradicting you are. you scold the brown haired for being mean (when he only said the truth) yet you call oikawa earlier on the dinner for having three mistakes on the test of film studies. the silence stopped you from saying something further so you sit back, looking at the lights and decorations hanging on the wall so you won't embarrass yourself further.

we're even i guess, oikawa whispers under his breath before looking at you, his smile not reaching his eyes. you slap your cheeks while you're looking hard at oikawa, not noticing how the blonde plays with his fingers before looking at you, his eyes glimmering of mischief. since tsukishima knows what pushes your buttons and he always uses it to his advantage.

"stop the good girl act. you feel that way too, idiot." he cleans his glasses with his vest while his eyes narrow and look at you. as you look up and stare at him, you’re perplexed seeing him without his glasses and get amazed on how golden his eyes are. while your arms are flat on the table, his words earlier came back crashing on your head. good girl.

“good girl act, huh? why? you want me to be a bad.. bad girl tsukishima-kun?” you retort back quickly, and you’re pleased with your counterattack since hearing low whistles and gasps beside you fueled your ego. you raise your brow with a mocking smile on your lips to taunt tsukishima even more, intentionally ignoring the repetitive beating of your heart. you felt kuroo kicking your ankle under the table but you dodge his kick since you didn’t want to be bombarded by his remarks because you know he’ll never let you forget about this moment.

“and what if i do, princess?” he raises his brow in return, resting his chin on his palm while cocking his head to the side, amused with your response but he wouldn’t let you know that. you’re obviously dumbfounded, hating the way he uses that nickname casually in a conversation. the uneasiness you’re feeling doesn't go away when you feel eyes on you, eagerly waiting on what you’ll have to say. you clear your throat and you’re about to say something when-

“okay! y/n you got ice cream?” terushima jumped in the conversation before the tension rose on the table. at first you’re bummed when he cuts you off suddenly but you’re glad because you’re not going to talk to tsukishima after this. nope, you keep repeating to yourself. you nodded and led the way to the kitchen, slapping your cheeks lightly with your fingers to snap out of it.

“y/n, suck it up and do the first move.” kuroo murmurs louder to mortify you before taking a bite of the ice cream from the glass, his smug expression makes you want to punch him right there. you playfully kick his chair while you mindlessly mix the spoon on the glass, the ice cream melting as time ticks by.

“what- i’m not- you jerk!" their eyes fall on you since your voice tends to get loud when you defend yourself, and you forget about that while kuroo annoys you on purpose. you grumble shut up under your breath, cupping your cheeks while a frown takes over your face. you angrily grab the scooper to get more desert, also denying the thoughts running in your mind and shake your head in the process while whispering no, that can't happen!

"you're screwed, my friend." kuroo waves his spoon in front of you and you grit your teeth in annoyance while a frown takes over your face. a part of you wants to give in and admit you’re feeling something for him but you’ll stick on what you’re good at-denying. you pout in defeat and sulk in your seat, your eyes falling on tsukishima sitting in the corner. he’s in his own world, taking a bite of the ice cream and repeatedly tapping his foot on the floor. you assume it’s because of the music he’s listening to because of his tangled earphones put on. when he caught your gaze you turned away a little late meaning he saw you. shame clouded your head and desperately try to distract yourself from him, and look at oikawa acting high and mighty, anything, so you won’t spiral back to your thoughts full of tsukishima.

“the hell!? no i’m fin-” he waves his hands and doesn't listen to your stalling, since he knows you’re doing that to convince yourself and not him. you scowl at him and cross your arms together, chanting to pull it together since you get aggressive when someone’s caught you so you cross your arms together and clench your fists. (you thought you’ll have wrinkles earlier than others because of how much you’re frowning).

“i saw what happened, don’t even.” he cocks his head to tsukishima’s direction with a grin on his face and he knew he conquered victory between the banter. you sent him a sarcastic smile before checking the others chat to themselves and hear the faint laughter of the adults in the other room. your mind starts to imagine what it's’ like to talk to your crush.

no didn’t say that!

“this is fun.” he added, which deepened your scowl and you clearly heard the teasing tone laced on his voice. you roll your eyes playfully while he ruffles your hair, and you’re bummed because you know he is right. don’t pull the bad girl card, he murmurs and twirls the ends of your hair. your thoughts halted when you heard the two words that brought you back to the situation earlier. you hold your breath while stretching your arms straight on the counter, hurriedly thinking of a witty response.

“hey! he looked good…” you closed your eyes quickly then you got a glimpse of tsukishima smirking and the way the nickname, princess, rolled off his tongue is making the tip of your ears faint red and sensitive. where’s the y/n that hates tsukki with all her guts? kuroo whispers and laughs hysterically after which caught the attention of the others. you know he’s teasing you for fun since you two often have light hearted banters. the urge to punch him in the face crosses your mind because there are times he knows and you know he’s right, it’s on you not wanting to admit it. his hand ruffles your hair once again before smoothly interrupting oikawa’s bragging, while your thoughts go on an overdrive in your head.

"miss pres! wait for me!" you stopped in your tracks and waited on the right side when you heard akari jogging to you. a dejected pout appears on her lips. she hangs onto your arm and grips it tight, catching her breath because you didn't wait for her outside after the film classes ended.

purposely digging her nails as her payback, because you didn't wait for her outside after the film class ended.

"damn, it's hard being the best friend of the student council president." she says with a defeated tone while fixing her skirt. your face scrunched up in response before walking together on the hallways. akari begins her rambling about the upcoming output your professor mentioned. you tightened your hold on the folders, frightened that the stack of folders will slip out of your hold since fate can be cruel, you muse while pushing the folders close to your chest.

"i can carry folders too, you know." her laughter echoed in the hallway when she saw your reaction! furrowed brows, a pout on your lips before you hesitantly gave half of the folders in her waiting hands. before you could explain what the folders are, you hear her gasp when she sees the title, in bold letters—CLASS 3 FILM STUDIES TEST RESULTS. she overheard you and the professor and learned that you're also checking the papers because professors trust you that much. akari likes seeing you lose your cool in public so she lifts the side of the folder. though it gets exhausting, you endure akari and her antics since despite her teasing she knows her boundaries. she's a good friend because holding the titles student council president, and top student scares away potential friends you could have. students gossiping about your family and status doesn't make things easier. so when she approached you in the library and blunty said you're taking her seat, you're grateful despite interrupting your study session.

it's safe to say that you didn't give each other good first impressions.

"miss pres, faculty room right?" akari's voice breaks your train of thought and wonders how you didn't hit anyone along the way since you take a few turns before seeing the faculty room.

"mhm."

“kari! let’s go back! i can convince sensei.” you whine quietly and stomp on your feet, you’re definitely ignoring your heart about to jump out of your chest when you see a glimpse of a blonde in front of the faculty room. after the party you held a few days ago, you didn’t pay attention to him and avoided him at all costs because you’re trying to figure out if feeling something to your rival is a big deal or not. you tighten your hold on the papers, a pout coming to your lips while akari is amused on what’s happening right now. she’s clearly not expecting you to go to the other way and avoid confrontation with the blonde.

“he’s there! i can’t face him!” you added and jutted your lips into a pout. in your head, you could roast him with other people because you have a perfect reputation to keep. she sighs for a moment while you stand there, she transfers all the folders in her other hand before smacking you in your arm. a shriek leaves your lips, not expecting your friend to hit you in the hallway. you knew you lose the disagreement when you see her as if she’s saying really? i’m done with you through her face. she puts a hand on her waist while she steps on the floor. a habit of hers that you noticed through time. you fix your hair that’s blocking your sight before nodding your head.

“fine… whatever.” you narrow your eyes and point a finger on her direction, acting like you’re threatening her but it didn’t have an effect at her. both of you silently walk towards the faculty room and finally see tsukishima in all his glory. he’s slightly slouching in front of the door because of his height. you quickly look at the other classrooms, acting as if you never saw him and ignore your heart beating at a quick pace. you’re in front of the room, just behind him and realize how tall he is. he looks back and catches your gaze before he smirks and waves at the professor inside. (they are clearly victims of the good boy facade he puts, you think). akari whistles to herself before going inside and gives the folders to your professor while you follow behind.

“ah thank you y/n! and akari. you can have your lunch now.” you bow quickly and smile before you shut the door gently. you fix your blazer and pat your skirt before going to the cafeteria with akari. on the way she keeps teasing you about how you daydream of tsukishima when you’re in class. she keeps mentioning his smirk when you’re eating and you almost choked on the food, since yes, maybe his smirk is attractive you think, maybe, you repeated.

“how’s life with rich people?” she whispers since she accompanied you to the library because you’re planning your scenes already and what emotions you’ll pick for the montage output. you stopped writing and closed your notebook, and rolled your eyes playfully because you know what she really wants to ask.

“i know you’re asking about oikawa, so go.” you say while crossing your arms on the wooden table, and stretch your back after writing for twenty minutes. on the time you’re working, she’s humming random songs and twirls her pen on the papers she brought, scribbling lines and occasionally add doodles on the paper.

“tsk, at least i’m proud of it.” she comments while you gasp, wondering why kuroo and her keeps forcing you to admit you like him. it wasn’t that you’re uncomfortable, your answer remains the same, you have a reputation to take care of.

“anyway! i heard you were mean to him.” she adds while burying her head in her open book, it’s obvious that she’s bored but she accompanied you nonetheless. you stopped twirling your hair and you processed what she said. how did she know, you lamented to yourself while your brows furrow.

“terushima… he doesn’t shut up. he might’ve mentioned that.” akari massages her scalp while looking at you, she’s attempting to relieve the minimal pain she’s feeling in her head. you continued to write on how the scene will go but your sentences ended in scribbles. you’re terribly annoyed that terushima talked about the party even, it wasn’t necessary, you thought while biting your lip.

“agh! whatever. it’s the truth.” you cried out after contemplating for a few minutes. you lean back on the chair, drinking from your water bottle to hydrate yourself once in a while. you sigh in satisfaction when the cold water goes to your chest, awakening your sleepy eyes. the silence helps you gain your focus and plan your outfit and makeup on the montage, but akari breaks the silence with a question.

“yeah sure.. the truth. so when are you gonna admit that you actually like tsukishima, huh?” akari prompts her elbow while a cocky smile goes to her face. you hum and stopped writing, utterly confused with her expression.

“well i like him but- what?! you and kuroo should be locked away somewhere.” you rambled after realizing her true intentions of why she asked that question. you kicked her foot slightly under the table to get back at her. she hisses slightly while you bow quickly to apologize. you sigh before grabbing your phone and usher akari to take a selfie in the library, even though her face looks funny on the picture, you’ll still keep it. while she looks through the photos you took, you look at the window and many thoughts keep overlapping but one thought stands out. should i finally admit that i have a crush on him? what if he doesn’t like me though? those are the thoughts you pondered on on the way home and the next few months.

it’s been five months since those thoughts spiralled on your head, almost haunting you every night. this day marks the start of vacation, no more school work to do and you’re not pretending to be a good student on campus all year. it's been a few months since you passed the montage output and you remembered how your professor’s mouth is open while watching yours, it boosted your confidence. you picked unrequited and longing which seems two complicated emotions to work on a montage but that’s what you like about it. when you did your shoot months ago, you couldn’t forget the horror on kuroo’s face when he saw the smudged make-up on your face while your dress looked elegant.

you waved him off that time and continued to film the flowers dancing to the wind, the group of birds flying high, and you accidentally filmed tsukishima walking away while the sun hit his direction and it created a warm yet nostalgic vibe. that time he didn’t give you insults or anything but god, he was cocky. kuroo and oikawa noticed how things changed on the two of you, because normally they’d be seeing you going at each other’s throats. but you did your own thing, and you didn’t complain about filming him and instead he saw you giggling to yourself while looking at the camera. the black haired finally connected the puzzles together and came to a conclusion: you’ve come to terms that you like tsukishima.

“i really like him! believe me.” you defended and hugged the pillow laying on the couch. you invited tsukishima to your house to convince your parents that you like each other even though you’ve been together for a few months already. when you often walk with your boyfriend (calling him that still makes you blush), you always see oikawa and kuroo snickering to themselves, and you teased kuroo that he replaced you with another. sadly, your mom didn’t like the idea and she went to another country to calm down, you think. that time you realized where you got your sulky attitude from. your dad acts casual and asks questions one at a time. you’re grateful because you couldn’t handle many questions at once and the accusations you’ll hear from your mom isn’t what you wanted right now. your dad giggles when you act pouty and defensive, while tsukishima bounces his leg to relieve the slight to little nervousness he has, he convinces himself. it didn’t help when kuroo grip his shoulder tight and give a little speech on how to protect you and show how to care.

“she does… unfortunately.” he whispers the last word which infuriates you and hits his head with the pillow lightly. your dad didn’t hear what he said so he glares at you, shaking his head, as if he’s saying not to hit your boyfriend. you pout and cross your arms, and give him the face that’s supposed to threaten people but it doesn’t work for him. (one time, you realized you’re friends with people who have resting bitch faces).

“do you want me to be your enemy again?” you threaten him but you fail because a big smile goes to your face. you fix the hair clip on the back of your head to keep your hair away.

“sure if it means i can see you be angry but look cute.” he retorts back and while you're about to explode, from your peripheral vision you see your dad giving him a big thumbs up and an awkward wink. he sends him a nod and acts cool.

"hmm, now i get why you like each other y/n." your dad comments he pats the space beside him. tsukishima gently rubs your lower back before letting you go, even though his heart is beating wild in his chest. you sit beside your dad before tightly embrace him, relieved of his reaction to your new relationship.

"thank you dad. we'll protect each other, don't worry. you can kick him if he broke up with me though." you whisper the last part so the blonde wouldn't hear you (he's suspicious based on the narrowing of his eyes and the gaze you feel at the back of your head). he pats your back while giggling lightly and stand up. he enjoys seeing you lost in your world and see the genuine happiness glowing in your eyes. this is something he should've done sooner, he thought because all these years you're caged in this house, alone and lonely.

“tsu-ki-shima-kun, let’s go?” you tease him because he once told you that calling him like that stirs something inside him. you giggle and look to him softly, an indirect way of asking permission to loop your arms together. you respect his boundaries, always, even though it didn't seem like it a few months ago. he nods and pushes his glasses, and you loop them while seeing his ears down to his neck go a little red.

“hey, let’s go to the library. it’s quiet there.”

you get out of the house and wave to the idiots (kuroo and oikawa) as you call them before going to the library with him. you had nothing to study for and you knew why he wants to go there, with you, you just know.

this is the sky castle, the place where you bring down people to walk forward. but after thinking about it, walking together with tsukishima doesn't sound bad.

143 notes · View notes

bubbleteaimagines · 4 years

Text

Meant to Be

Chris Evans Oneshot

Summary: In which you and Chris are meant to be, in one life or the other

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of an age gap, angst, mentions of death, this is so sad but listen to this song while reading to have your heart ripped out

you glared at the back of chris’ head, or rather the back of his plane seat.

you were mad, and you were mad because you didn’t even have the right to be mad.

he hadn’t done anything wrong, technically. if you subtracted the fact that he had broken up with you months ago and had started dating a new woman shorty after then yes, chris evans had been perfectly innocent.

but no, instead it had been you that messed up. it had been you that couldn’t keep her fat mouth shut, word vomiting all over chris just before the plane ride.

you still cringed as you remember the moment.

you were standing outside of the airport, all cast members of the avengers headed to tokyo for press and interviews.

chris had been standing alone and for some reason, you had decided to take your final shot. you walked straight up to him, puffed out your chest, and blurred out how you were still in love with him like an idiot.

honestly, if you could have picked a time for an asteroid to suddenly destroy the earth then that would have been it.

there were no words to explain the awkwardness of your words, and how chris’ face looked as he gently explained to you that he was with someone now.

someone that wasn’t you. someone that wasn’t twenty years younger than him, someone more mature and most importantly, someone that wanted all the things he wanted.

you had to admit, it stung.

it stung bad that the only reason he broke up with you was because of your age.

“we’re too different,” he had said, “you’re only twenty and i’m almost forty. we just don’t want the same things anymore.”

what he meant to say was that he just didn’t want you anymore. and it killed you, it tore you apart everyday that you had lost the love of your life over a damn number.

what was a couple years when you had a romance like yours and chris’? you were so happy together. you had so much fun. there was never a dull moment and you loved each other so passionately, so deeply, that everybody you met would comment on it.

or, at least that’s what you thought.

but months later you were still left with a bitter taste in your mouth when you remembered that wasn’t your reality anymore.

he wasn’t yours anymore.

“you okay kid?” rdj looked at you worriedly as you bit the inside of your cheeks to keep from crying.

“no,” you whispered lowly so that chris or anyone else couldn’t hear you. “i did a stupid thing today. before we got on the plane, i...”

“ah. that,” robert winced as he reminisced the moment, and the awkward silence that followed.

“yes, that,” you sniffled, still staring at chris’ head. “i-i can’t believe i did that. i’m so stupid. chris was right — how would he ever want me back when i keep acting like a child?”

“hey,” rdj frowned and shook his head. “you’re not stupid. you were emotional. it happens to the best of us.”

“does it really?” you wonder, not believing it. “because right now, it seems like i’m the only one suffering.”

it was true — chris seemed absolutely fine. you never saw him crying in the tabloids after the breakup. you never saw him posting sad quotes on social media or shutting down completely.

in fact, it was the opposite. he seemed happier without your relationship. happier without you.

a sob bubbled up in your throat. you quickly ran for the bathroom.

chris and rdj both frowned at your disappearing figure, but chris also felt a pang of sadness.

he couldn’t help it, — how could he? you were once upon a time the absolute light of his life. for two years, you were his anchor. his rock. his pride and joy, the reason he wanted to come home every night.

chris had loved you with everything in his being. more than any woman he had ever before. you were the love of his life, but you were also someone he had let go.

to this day, he still didn’t know why he did it.

he didn’t know why he left you in hysterics that faithful day, begging him for an explanation. begging him not leave.

it still hurt when he thought about it. it still haunted his dreams, still caused him to twist his face in pain.

he hated hurting you. he always did.

but in a way, letting you go was to help you more than hurt you.

he knew that you were significantly younger than him. but still, he had tried to fool himself into thinking you could both work when it was clear you wanted different things.

chris wanted a family. he was ready to settle down, ready for you to get married and have children.

but you weren’t.

like any twenty year old, you wanted to party and see the world and maybe adopt a dog. but kids? marriage? you had barely experienced anything. you wanted more time, you had begged him to give you more time, but time wasn’t something chris had.

he wasn’t getting any younger.

but you were. you still had a young and fighting spirit and chris didn’t want to dampen it by forcing you into a life you weren’t ready for.

so he ended it.

he met another woman. they talked, they wanted the same things.

chris was happy. or at least, he tried to tell himself that. he tried to tell himself that he loved his girlfriend, loved that she wanted everything he wanted. he loved that he could finally have the life he’d always wanted.

only...it wasn’t.

because you weren’t in it.

the plane rocked vicicously as you stumbled back to your seat, eyes red.

thankfully, nobody decided to comment on it but you could see the frown on scarlet’s face and the concern on jermey’s. you could feel anthony wanting to say something, but he was right by chris and he didn’t wanna risk any drama.

not now. you all were supposed to be happy — you were promoting the biggest movie of your lives!

but excitement hardly reached you at all. hardly touched you at all, sadness blocking away any positive emotions.

“you okay?” robert asked again as you sat back down.

you stared at the floor for a moment before letting out a small nod. “i will be,” you said, not bothering to hide your voice this time.

chris frowned at this. he gripped the seat a little tight as the plane shook again.

“why don’t you relax?” rdj suggested, “have some water. try to get some sleep. we’ll be in tokyo soon.”

“where are we now?” you asked, trying to distract your mind.

“i think maybe...somewhere over indonesia? i dunno, the pilot didn’t specify. she just said—”

“ah!”

robert was cut off by the plane shaking again, but this time, it was more deadly.

you jolted to the left, a scream escaping your lips as you went flying out of your seat.

it had seemed you had forgotten to put your seat belt back on once you got back to your seat, and you tumbled into the aisle as the plane tilted in a deadly position.

“y/n!” oxygen masks were quickly administered to everybody on the plane. anthony had to fight chris to put on his, stopping him from taking off his seat belt and helping you.

“chris, no! you need this!”

“like hell! y/n needs me!” chris panicked as he saw your frame go flying.

scarlet screamed as the plane began to twist, the terrified voice of pilot administering the worst news possible.

“the engines have failed! the plane can no longer support itself! we’re going down!”

robert tried his best to reach out for you; to grab you and pull you to safety.

but it was as no use. the plane hit something hard and in a split second your body disappeared as the plane was literally torn apart.

the last thing he remembered was chris screaming for you before it all went black.

chris didn’t know how long it was before he finally woke again.

all he knew was that when he did, everything hurt like hell.

he groaned as the aches began to spread in his body, slowly peeling his eyes open to face the bright sunlight.

“h-hello?” his voice was horse. weak. “i-is anybody there?”

he cried out as he tried to move and felt pain emitting from his side. but as painful as it was, he knew he had to get up.

“chris?!”

several frantic voices called out his name, gasps echoing throughout the air. he moaned as someone dropped down beside him, the embrace that they pulled him into causing pain to shoot all over his body.

“oh my god, he’s alive!”

the voice belonged to scarlet. he could vaguely make out her blonde hair, and her figure as she stood over him.

“chris?”

anthony sooned joined her. “is that you buddy? can you hear us?”

“loud and clear,” chris moaned out. “w-what happened? why does everything...hurt?”

the only thing he remembered was seeing you run to the bathroom. and then, it all just went blank as if someone had erased his memories.

anthony’s face was as serious as he had ever seen it. but even more than that, it was grim. full of worry and hurt.

scarlet was the same. she had tears in her eyes and dirt on her expensive clothes that didn’t belong there. chris furrowed his eyebrows.

“we...” anthony swallowed thickly. “we were in a...crash. the engines — they stopped working. we barely had time to prepare before the plane...”

“oh my god,” chris was suddenly alert, panic filling very inch of him as he sat up.

he remembered now. he remembered seeing your figure flying all over the plane because you didn’t have a seat belt on. he remembered reaching for you, yelling your name and screaming for you.

he remembered begging any god that would listen to spare you before he blacked out.

“y/n!”

his eyes widened in horror. where were you?! he searched the premise quickly.

you weren’t anywhere sight. along with robert, jeremy, and hemsworth you were missing.

chris felt a feeling of absolute dread wash over him.

“no,” he whispered, quickly standing up. he ignored every pain in his body. he ignored scarlet and anthony’s warnings to take it easy.

he didn’t care. he didn’t care about himself anymore. his focus is was on you, and where the hell you were at the moment.

“y/n!” he yelled again, shaking his head frantically. “where is she? WHERE IS SHE?!”

both scarlet and anthony flinched at his tone. never, and they meant never, had chris yelled at them before.

“she’s alive,” scarlet answered immediately, trying to calm a frantic chris. “she’s alive, but...”

“it’s not looking good, pal,” anthony’s voice cracked, causing chris’ stomach to sink. “we found her but...she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. and when the plane crashed...she got stuck under some rubble.”

“oh god,” chris felt he was gonna be sick. “can i see her? where are the others? are they helping her? take me to her!”

“robert, jeremy and chris are all alive,” scarlet said. “they’re trying their best...”

scarlet’s voice fell on deaf ears as chris decided to just go see for himself. he was tired of them dancing around it. he wanted to see you. he wanted to know that you were okay, that you were alive.

“y/n!”

scarlet and anthony yelled after him but he paid them no mind, running through the rubble to find you.

the entire plane that they rented for you guys was in pieces. the wings had been ripped off, the cockpit was miles away, and the back of the plane, where you were sitting, was scattered everywhere.

“y/n!” chris tried again, his voice nearly going hoarse from yelling so loud.

but then this time, he did get a response.

he whipped around as someone called out his name, but disappointment filled his veins as he saw that it was only jermey.

“chris, buddy...” rdj and chris hemsworth ran up to him, holding him back.

“chris, you don’t need to see this,” hemsworth told him grimly.

so that meant you were nearby. but where?

scarlet said you had been trapped under some rubble. but what chris expected time was maybe a seat, or a small piece of metal.

a strangled cry left his throat as he saw that you were trapped under one of the plane wings.

“y-y/n,” nobody could stop him as he fell to his knees by your head, the only visible part of your body.

you didn’t even know what to say as the love of your life came into view.

you wanted to say everything — so much — but your body was on fire.

if chris thought he had it bad, then you were ten times worse.

not only were your legs pinned, but also your ribs and your left arm. the only thing that hadn’t been trapped was your right arm, which was completely numb, and your head.

you were still conscious, but not by much.

you could feel it.

the sensation everyone always talked about. the tingling in your brain. the white light behind your eyes.

you were close.

“c-chris,” so help you god, you were not gonna leave this earth without speaking to him one last time. you had said your goodbyes to everybody else. as soon as they realized that they couldn’t get the metal off of you — that they weren’t strong enough, and that help wasn’t coming — you had decided to make peace with your remaining breath.

but not with chris. with chris, you didn’t want peace. you wanted love and the happiness of seeing his eyes one last time.

“y/n...” the strangled sob that left his lips wasn’t human. it was gutural, animalistic. chris was crying out for you, he was in pain. “no!”

“i don’t...have much time,” you sputtered out pathetically, blood spilling out of your mouth. “i-i’m dying.”

the revelation was clear to see, but chris still refused to accept it.

“no!” he repeated the word once again. “no, you’re not dying! y/n, you can’t die!”

“c-chris please,” black spots began to cloud your vision. but chris didn’t give up.

“what are you all just standing there for?!” he glared angrily at his friends. “help me! help me get this shit off of her!”

everyone stared at chris with a gutted look in their eyes. they turned away as he tried to lift the wing, as he tried to accomplish what they already failed at hours ago.

“mate, we tried...” hemsworth sniffed. “it’s not coming up.”

“no!” chris turned to him with such fury, such denial that it actually made hemsworth stumble back. “no, you don’t get to decide that! you don’t get to just stand there while she’s dying!”

“we didn’t!” rdj quickly stepped in. “we tried to help.”

“well then try again!” chris snapped again, pushing against the metal. scarlet sobbed as it stayed in the same place.

“t-they know it w-won’t help,” your sad voice whispered out, causing chris to pause. “t-they know i-i’m a goner anyways.”

“don’t say that,” chris sobbed as he dropped to your side again, hands reaching out to stoke your numb cheek. “don’t say that you’re dying. you’re gonna be fine...you’re gonna be f-fine.”

you could tell that even he didn’t believe it. the damage was too extensive. there was no way you were getting out of there alive.

“t-tell my family that i l-love them,” you mumbled, coughing up blood. “and sebastian a-and tom and—”

“don’t,” chris cut you off. “don’t do this.”

he wore the expression of a man being burned alive. he was in pure agony, pain clawing at every inch of him. consuming him faster than it was taking you.

“r-remember that,” you ignored him, the ringing in your ears getting louder. “remember that i love...you.”

there it was.

chris finally broke upon hearing these words. so painful for you to spit out, but yet they were important enough to waste your last breaths on. he was important enough.

“i love you too,” chris broke down, sobs racking his body as he held your hand. “i love you, so much. more than you’ll ever know. i love you for everything that you are. you’re the love of my life. i can’t live w-without you baby.”

“y-you don’t have to...s-say it back...” you gave him a pained smile. “just because i-i’m dying...i know you love h-her now. s-she’s your f-future. i-i’m just sorry we never h-had a chance,” your eyes began to flutter.

“no, no, no, no!” chris whimpered. “it was never her, baby. i don’t love her. it was always you. you’re my future. p-please y/n, you’re the mother of my kids. you’re my wife. it was always gonna be you, no matter what,” he shook his head. “always and forever, we’re meant to be.”

“m-meant to be,” you stuttered out, a ghost of a smile on your face. if you had to die again, you’d happily go out with those words being the last thing you ever heard.

chris bawled as he watched the light finally leave your eyes and your body slump. you almost looked peaceful, as if you were smiling in your sleep, but he knew better.

the love of his life was gone.

“chris? chris? look at me!” robert grabbed chris by the shoulders as he started hyperventilating, pounding at the soil with his fists. “look at me, buddy!”

“she’s gone,” chris cried as robert held him in his arms, “s-she,”

his eyes began to flutter close as he struggled to get the words out. suddenly, it became harder to breathe. black spots clouded his visions and chris’ body began shutting down with every breath, unable to cope with your death.

“what’s happening?!” anthony yelled as chris painfully slumped over, his body going limp in robert’s arms.

shakily, the older man held two fingers to his neck and prayed that he wasn’t gone, too. he prayed that the universe didn’t take chris and you, all in one day.

but they knew.

they knew the minute he pulled his hand back, dropping his head lowly in defeat. they knew before he even opened his mouth. they knew as he pulled away, resting chris’ body gently next to yours.

“he’s gone.”

#chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans angst

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

BARING THE BURDEN

Summary: Bruce’s death meant someone had to take the mantle of Batman.

Warning: Angst

A/N: Lmfao I wrote this a long ass time ago and it was straight up meant to be the fic Please and I still don’t know how it took such a turn and I ended up with this.

Word Count: 3k

Bruce had a lot of sides.

He had the publicity CEO of Wayne Enterprises. A billionaire, ex-playboy who spent his days working to make this city better and his nights with his wife. His picture was plastered in the news and he was constantly getting recognition for everything he did. He was a hero to Gotham.

Then there was the Dark Knight. Keeping this city safe and instilling fear into his foes. He was dangerous, deadly if he ever choose to be. Batman was the farthest thing from a team player and yet he formed many. He was the reason that the world had been saved time and time again. He was Gotham's hero.

Bruce was a parent, though no kid was his own besides Damian. He was a family man, who loved his partner and kids even though he didn't always show it. He cared for everyone so deeply that he knew he would give his life to save theirs. This side was your favourite side, he was a hero to you and your kids.

Everything that Bruce did, one thing remained constant: he was the hero the world needed.

So, when the day came that he no longer protected the city, no longer protected you, it broke everyone. The city raged with crime. Bruce was no longer there to keep everyone safe. He had done exactly what he intended to do the day he married you: he died to keep you safe.

Bruce had known you far before he joined the Justice League. Just like the great Batman, you wanted nothing more than to keep the world safe. You wanted to be a hero - and after years of agony, you had done just that. Bruce knew the second that he saw you take down Scarecrow - on your own with fear toxin running though you - he needed you.

You were partners, equals on the streets. It didn't take long for him to seduce you to his bed, and shortly after that - put a ring on your finger. You were everything he needed - why waste time? Being with Bruce was a different experience every day, but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

Losing him broke you. Of course it did. For years it seemed that he was invincible, no matter what side he showed. Even if he was just human, it always appeared that he was couldn't die. Bruce was a stubborn man, death never seemed to be in his cards. Until it was.

Bruce death destroyed any ounce of hope you had left. No matter how dark your life with Bruce was, there was always a shimmer of hope that you two would get to step away from this life. Now, you would never get that with him. You would never get your happy ending.

It seemed the city knew about Bruce's death before most of his kids. Jason was off around the world, taking down criminals in a way that you and Bruce never approved of. Dick was leading the Titans, Damian now part of the team. Tim, Steph, Cass, even Duke, they all seemed to have dropped off the radar a long time ago.

No matter how much they loved you, being back home wasn't always the easiest. It wasn't easy telling them that the man that raised them half their lives was dead, never to come back. In fact, it was so hard that you hadn't. Alfred remained silent about the truth, upholding Bruce's position at Wayne Enterprises for as long as he could.

Gotham, however, suffered without the Bat. Criminals were going wild in the streets, the biggest of the bad's seemingly putting all their plans into action. The city needed Batman, they needed him far more than you ever had. Bruce never wanted you to take that title as sole protector of the city. He had told you time and time again to get out of this life if he was to die.

You couldn't.

How could you when the people that killed him were still out there. Instead of giving up being a hero, finding your white picket fence life that Bruce so desperately wanted you to have, you did the exact thing that he would have never wanted you to do.

You became the Bat.

The suit was adjusted to your size, and even though you knew you couldn't pull off being the great Batman like any of your adopted sons could, this was your burden to carry, not theirs. Losing Bruce was on you, it hadn't been their faults. You couldn't bare the thought of having to get one of them to uphold this mantle.

It had to be you, it always had been. The first time that you put it on, it had brought you to tears. Tears of missing Bruce, of doing the one thing he never wanted of you. Tears of wondering what Dick and all the others were going to think of you in this suit. Tears of having to bare a burden you never would have wished for anyone.

"How's it look?" Alfred handed over a a handkerchief. You wiped away your tear stained face, petrified of what it was going to be like when you finally put the cowl on as well.

"Fits like a glove," Alfred answered. The suit looked like you were meant for it. Being the bat was life you were destined for, even if you knew every single person would know that you were far from the original. You would never be Bruce, Alfred knew that. You weren't Batman, you weren't Batwoman. You didn't know who you were anymore.

"What was I thinking, Alfred?" You asked, turning to face him. The Batmobile glared at you, along with every other item in that cave that belonged to Bruce. "I'm not Bruce, I'm not meant to do this. It should be Dick, Tim, Damian even. I look like a fraud. No one is going to believe this."

"You were meant for this," Alfred assured. You knew he was lying. Alfred knew more than anyone that Bruce didn't want you to take this title. He had told Alfred more than once never to let you step foot back in that cave if he was to perish. Alfred had gone against his dying wish - but it was going to be his if he went against you.

"I haven't even told the kids," your voice cracked. It had been just over three weeks since Bruce's death and you hadn't even gotten the guts to tell them their father died. How were you supposed to face the city if you couldn't face the family you loved? "I'm too weak."

"You were married to Master Bruce for a decade, I wouldn't call that weak in the slightest," Alfred tried to joke. If you could put up with his crazy life, you were anything but weak. "I've known you for a great deal of time, (Y/N), if there's one person that is strong enough to do this, it's you."

Your chin trembled for a moment. You couldn't keep these tears up, Alfred was right, you were strong enough to do this and you needed to prove it. Your fists clenched at your side and you clenched your jaw. It was time. The cowl was pulled up over your head, the final seal to your fate.

You were right. Not a single person believed that you were the great Batman. Even low-life criminal scum took you as a joke. They knew that you weren't him, they teased you enough that you had broken far greater than the bat ever would. After all your years as a vigilante, wearing that suit seemed to bring out a dark side you didn't know you had.

It was easier to understand now what Bruce's mentality was while wearing it. No matter the person under the cowl, it brought an evil out that was hard to push down. It was so easy to take down worthless criminals, they didn't know who was under the suit. No repercussions, no doubts.

You could understand why Jason did what he did. Wearing this suit, it brought out a lot of things that you didn't realize were hidden away. Night after night you would come home with blood soaking through the dark material. It was enough that it made Alfred concerned, even the city concerned.

Batman disappears for a few weeks and a successor comes back even more deadly than the last? GCPD wasn't going to allow it, and neither were the citizens. Even if they didn't agree with your suddenly violent methods, the city was getting safer and no one was dead. That didn't make Alfred any less worried.

Missing Bruce had fueled that aggression. You missed him so much that each time you put on his cowl, you were blinded by the anger of those who killed him. Bruce would have never wanted this of you, but you couldn't stop it. Not until every damn person in that city knew that you were going to stop them the second they thought about committing a crime.

"You've been all over the news, Bruce," Dick's voiced echoed through the cave. The cape that covered your shoulders hid your smaller frame, the cowl hiding your hair. He was standing far enough away that he couldn't tell the difference between you and your dead husband.

Your breath caught in your throat. Dick, the others, they still didn't know. You had been so caught up in keeping the Batman mantle alive that you hadn't thought once again about telling them. Now, you couldn't hide it anymore. You couldn't hide that Bruce was dead and that it was you under the mask.

Reluctantly, you pulled the cowl down as you turned to face Dick. Tears stung your eyes and poured down as you met Dick's. The utter shock that he had from you being in the suit had caused him to step back. He was prepared to lecture Bruce, not see that it was you.

"(Y/N)," Dick whispered. You avoided his gaze, petrified as to what he was going to think of you now. The whole reason he was there was to get Batman on the right path, now he was going to get a completely different story. He rushed down the steps of the cave, meeting you where you stood.

Your body shook with sobs, knees buckling from under you. If it wasn't for Dick's hold on you, you would have been flat on the ground. You didn't need to say anything, to explain what you were doing. The second that he saw you in Bruce's modified suit, he had figured it out.

Bruce Wayne was dead, and so was every other side of him.

Silent tears slipped down Dick's cheeks. He and Bruce might not have always gotten along, but he was still the man that raised him for over a decade. His grip on you tightened, just as you had thought, Bruce always seemed invincible. Dick never thought he'd see the day that Bruce was dead in the field.

"What happened?" Dick finally managed to speak. His voice cracked and he feverishly dried his wet cheeks, followed by yours.

"I should have been there," was all you could say. You were supposed to be with him that night, you should have been with him. You could have saved him, or died right along with him. Either options seemed to be easier than the pain that you had to endure without him. "I wasn't there to save him."

"The others?" Dick asked. He didn't know how long Bruce had been gone, or how long you had been hiding this from him. He wanted to be mad, to yell at you that he should have known sooner. He couldn't, not after seeing how torn up you were about this. You missed him far more than anyone.

You shook your head, voice catching in your throat. You didn't want to be the one to tell Damian that his father was dead, and you weren't there to stop it. It was you that sent him to the Titans, claiming that you and Bruce could handle the city on your own for a while. You were wrong, so desperately wrong.

Damian would never forgive you for this.

Dick turned away from you. His hand slid down his face, trying to decipher all the emotions running through him. Everyone needed to know, they deserved the truth. He was mad at you too, you could see it in the way he held himself up. You didn’t need a lecture that night, you needed to get on the streets and keep it safe.

You let out a shaky breath. The cowl no longer hung from your neck put was placed back on your head. Dick needed this time to himself, to accept that Bruce was gone. You needed to save the city. Besides, he didn't want to be anywhere near you, not right now. You could see it in him - mad at you for keeping it from him, from everyone, mad at you for taking such harsh measures and tarnishing Bruce’s name.

"Where are you going?" Dick asked as you stalked over to the Batmobile. You certainly didn't pass up as Bruce, not even close. Between your smaller frame and completely different voice, you were nothing like him. Even your fighting styles differed. If anyone was going to pull it off, it had to be Dick.

You didn't say anything as you hopped into the car. The track spun you around and the lights shined the path ahead. Dick stood in front of you, blocking your chance of leaving. He had never seen you run from your problems like this, you were always the level headed one between you and Bruce.

Losing him changed you, a lot. Dick had been with you for less than an hour and you seemed like a completely different person. He felt like the parent right now, never did he feel like that with you.

"Get out of the car, (Y/N)," Dick urged. His gold chain shined in the bright light. It had been a long time since you had seen him in just his civvies. For a second, you swore he looked like the little boy that you had first accepted into your home, not this full fledged adult. You squeezed your eyes shut, accepting that he was right and you needed to face this.

The lights flicked off and Dick now stood at your car door. You stood at his side once more, head tilted in shame. Dick pulled the cowl off your head, the warm eyes of his adoptive mother were cold. He saw no love within them, no hope for the future.

"You don't belong in that suit," he shook his head. Dick knew that you bared the suit so no one else had to. He knew you were taking this bullet so that you didn't have to see your kids suffer in it. He could see that wearing it was killing you from the inside out. Being that Bat was something that you weren't meant to endure.

"Neither do you," You voice trembled. Being alone these past few weeks, it made it easy to block out your feelings of grief. Now, with Dick being back everything you had bottled up was spilling out like a river.

"Bruce wanted me to take it, never you," Dick argued. He never wanted to be Batman, he wanted to be his own person. Deep down, he knew that this day would come, that he would have to take up the mantle he so desperately tried to run from. "Bruce might not have been the most loving person, but he always wanted what was best for you."

"I need to do this, Dick," you continued. The last thing you wanted to see was Dick to be dragged down by the weight of the cape. He had something good going for him, and coming back to his old home would ruin that. You gestured around to the cave, “this is where I'm meant to be, even if Bruce never wanted it."

"Bruce wanted you to be happy. Wearing that suit is draining you, you can't keep this up," Dick denied. Seeing you like this hurt just as much as pain of Bruce being dead. Growing up, you were always there for him, always the one to help him back up. It seemed you had an endless ray of hope in you. That hope was gone and diminished to nothing. "You have to tell everyone, Damian... He needs to know."

"How am I supposed to look him in the eye and tell him his father is dead?" You pleaded. Dick sighed, this was going to be the hardest conversation you would ever have. It needed to be done, everyone needed to know. The world needed to know, Bruce Wayne was a public figure, they couldn't hide this forever.

Dick never answered you. He didn't know how to answer you. You pushed past him, peeling off the suit as you headed towards the computers. Dick wasn't going to let you go out that night, not in that suit. You'd be surprised if he let you go out at all again.

The screen lit up and for the first time since Bruce's death, you hovered over the emergency contacts. Everyone needed to know, The Justice League, the family, you needed to be the one to tell them. Your heart clenched as you sent the message to your family saying to come home, immediately.

Dick placed his hand on your shoulder. He was going to be the one to help you through telling everyone. You were making the right choice, this secret couldn't go on for any longer. When everyone knew, then they would decide who would take the suit, who would become Batman again.

You hoped that it would be you.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne one shot #bruce wayne x batmom #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #batfam #batmom #batmom imagines #batmom x batfamily #batfam x batmom #batfam one shot #batmom!reader #dickgrayson #dc one shot #dc imagine #dc #angst

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

On the run

Authors note - this is a series of closly related one shots hence tagged as soft!reader. This is for Ambers challenge! Hope you like it! This is like there was only one room instead of there was only one bed.

Please do not steal or repost my works on any other site. Reblogs are welcome.

Run through - You have to go on the run with your husband and share a room with Bucky.

Warnings - smut, daddy kink, voyeurism (fucking right next to Bucky lol), cockwarming, angst

Pairing - Steve Rogers x soft!reader

Word count - 3.3k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You paced back and forth in your living room. It wasn’t exactly yours but it had been your home for the past four years. Your floor to ceiling windows gave you an extensive and broad view of new York City. You were on the highest floor of the tower, it made the huge city seem so city. Usually the lights soothed you whenever you were anxious. But you weren’t sure if you had ever been so scared. Scared for your husbands life, scared for your future.

Steve had broke the law. Your Steve, the Captain America. It was so ironic. He was declared a terrorist and a wanted man. You felt as if this was a fever dream. Never in a million years did you think something like this would happen.

From what you knew Steve refused to sign the accords. Which you understood, he had his reasons and they were completely valid. You hoped the team would work it out amongst themselves and come to a compromise somehow. But from the looks of it, that will never happen. No one really asked for your opinion. Even if you were like family to them, at the end of the day you were a simple accountant turned stay at home wife. A job you had to give up to be with your Steve. When it got too dangerous for you to go out in the world. You hoped maybe just maybe, Steve would do the same for you. He talked of retiring, becoming a high school professor or working on his art. And like an idiot you let yourself indulge in that fantasy and got sweeped away.

Your life wasn’t bad by any means, in fact it was too perfect. Your friends were often envious of your perfect marriage and your dutiful husband. But you wanted more for Steve. You wanted him to slow down a bit, enjoy life, to not wake up screaming in the middle of the night in a pool of his own sweat and tears. You loved all of him, but you loved him the most when he was happy. Being an Avenger took a huge toll on him. You just wanted him to be happy.

You were being ‘escorted’ to the interrogation room. You had only been there once, to see Steve. You never thought you would be the one being interrogated.

You couldn’t help but feel resentful. You were in this grey room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, being asked all sort of intrusive questions as if you were a criminal, because of him. You gave up everything for him. You completely gave yourself to him. You didn’t have much left.

“Are you sure?” The man in the black suit asked again.

“Yes I’m sure! I think I would remember if my husband contacted me” you snapped.

“Alright. Please calm down ma'am” He said and you rolled your eyes at his patronising tone “You can leave for now but you’re not allowed to leave the premises. Let us know as soon as Rogers contacts you. If you don’t you will be an accomplice to his crimes”

His words echoed in your head on the way to ‘your' apartment. You sat back on your couch ready to drown your worries and your sorrows in some wine. The portrait Steve painted of you in a short white sundress, playing with some birds like a Disney Princess, hung on your wall almost taunting you. It was all superficial wasn’t it?

All the gifts he gave you, all the sketches he made of you. Every time he held the door open for you or tenderly made love to you, looking into your eyes and staring deep into your soul. Did all of that really matter? If he didn’t consider you or your relationship while doing something as brash as – you didn’t even know what he did. His duty won over his love for you. It always would.

You should’ve known. Your mother warned you. Told you you’re not the kind of person that would be fine with being the second or even fifth priority. Too possessive, too loving. People like you only ever get their hearts broken.

What did the future hold for you? You knew Steve, or at least you thought you did. You knew he wouldn’t help a war criminal. A terrorist. Sure said terrorist was Steve’s friend, but Steve was the kind of person that held others accountable. But at the end of the day Steve was just a human and a softie. You could see him being so loyal and going till the end of the line for his buddy.

You hummed as you felt a hand caressing your cheek. The feeling of his calloused fingers felt so familiar. It was a nice dream, an escape from this dystopian reality. You’d like to live in it forever but then your eyes snapped open as you heard him call out your name.

You sat up quickly sat up straight “Steve�� you blurted out as you looked at your husband. In a dark blue, red, and white which was dirty enough to be black, suit. His short blond hair a bit frizzy, his left cheek blue and purple, unlike the neat and tidy look he usually sports. You looked into his eyes, which looked so tired and exhausted.

“We have to get out of here right now” He said gravely. But then his face softened. “It’s not safe here for you doll. I can’t leave you here, where I won’t be able to protect you” he said cupping your face with his hands.

You should have asked him a million questions. If what they were saying was true. Did he really help a terrorist? Attack his friends, whom you considered your family. But you didn’t. You simply crashed your lips upon his, taking his breathe away. It was soft, sweet but needy. Just like most of your reunion kisses. “I’ll follow you anywhere Steve” You said pulling away and looking into his sky blue eyes.

He gave your forehead a soft kiss before pulling you up. Telling you to collect your things as quickly as you can. You changed into a pair of jeans and sweatshirt, packing a few more t-shirts and pants.

“Hurry up doll we don’t have long” he urged you.

You made your way out of the apartment. You were walking to the elevator thinking you would be going down on it. “No, y/n we have to take the stairs. Come on” he took your hand.

He lead you to the emergency exit, one you didn’t even know existed. He was always good at reading and remembering maps. You smiled thinking of the time he easily got you both out of a very complicated Halloween maze.

“Steve why are we going upstairs?” You asked panting and trying your best to keep up with his face. You weren’t blessed with the super serum, you weren’t a huge fan of working out either.

“We have to take the jet and leave the country” He said rubbing your back. After a few seconds he hauled you over his shoulder “Hold on” He said sprinting up the stairs.

“Wouldn’t they notice us leaving in a literal quinjet?” You asked “What happens if you get caught Steve? What will they do to you?”

“Don’t worry about that right now” You wanted to laugh. Not worry? You were literally fleeing the country. How could you not worry.

You finally made it to the terrace, shivering in Steves hold against the chilly air Steve set you down in the jet. Before working on the kinks to get it started.

Surprisingly you made it out without anyone following you but you held your breathe. Not letting your guard down until you knew you were completely safe. As soon as you were in the air Steve put the jet on stealth mode. Finally letting his back rest against his chair and letting out a deep sigh.

“Steve” you couldn’t help the quiver in your voice trying your best to hold in your tears. “what is going on? Is it true? What they were saying?”

“What were they saying?” he said quirking a brow at you.

“That you helped a terrorist and you’re like a... war criminal now” you struggled to get the words out. Uncomfortable to even think such a thing could happen.

“You really think I could do something like that” He rested his elbows on the arms of his seat staring you down.

“I don’t. That’s why I’m here. But I have a right to know what happened”

His brows remained furrowed, as if he didn’t believe you. You had no idea how he managed to turn the whole conversation around and put you on the spot. “It’s Bucky” He said, his hard face softening.

Bucky, his best friend. Steve had carried the guilt of his death on his shoulders for years. Which only got worse when he found out that Bucky was indeed alive, being used as a weapon by hydra. “They tried to frame him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He’s been suffering for years”

You briskly got up from your seat as you saw the tears escape his eyes. You were selfish. Only caring about how this whole ordeal was affecting you. You couldn’t even imagine what Steve must have gone through. You sat on his lap, hugging him close to you as he held onto you so tightly, as if you would disappear if he didn’t. “Promise me you’ll never leave me” he choked out against the crook of your neck.

You ran your fingers through his hair lightly scratching his head with your nails, in the way you knew he liked. “I would never leave you Steve. I promise”

Over five hours later you made it to Moldova. A small country in eastern Europe. Steve hid the jet, saying he would need it later, since he had to come up with a plan to rescue your friends. Which would be much harder than rescuing you, they were in a maximum security prison, in the middle of a freaking ocean.

You tried your best to not think about that when you were on your way to a motel. You were nervous to meet Bucky, who Steve said would be there with you. You had never met any of Steve’s family. Since well they were dead. Back when you started dating he wasn’t really friends with his coworkers, so you never really received ‘the shovel talk' from them.

This was nerve wracking. What if he thought you weren’t worthy of Steve? Bucky was the only link to Steve’s past, his oldest friend, surely his opinion would mean the world to Steve.

“Hey it’ll be okay” Steve said squeezing your thigh from the drivers seat, something he liked to do whenever you both drove together. “I would never let anything happen to you. You know that right?” He looked at you before looking back at the icy roads.

“It’s not that. I know you’ll keep me safe Stevie. If nothing else I believe in that” You said as he gave you a small smile “this is all just overwhelming you know? I mean would we ever get to go back?” You asked although you knew neither of you knew the answer. “and then there’s Bucky”

“What about Bucky?” he asked.

“What if... he doesn’t like me? I know it’s silly!” You whined before he could make a snarky comment “We have other things to worry about and whatever but I want to make a good impression. Is there something I should remember not to do? Or to do?” You scrunched your nose at your strange question and this stranger reality. Where you get to meet your husbands best friend at the worst timing.

“Uh...” He contemplated your words for a minute “Well don’t hug him. I know you like to do that” he let out a laugh at just how sweet and likeable you are and how Bucky would love you the second he lays his eyes on you “Don’t worry sweetheart. Bucky’s the last thing you have to worry about. You wouldn’t have to even try to get him to like you”

You finally parked at the motel. Ever the gentleman, Steve held the door open for you holding your hand as you made your way up the shaky stairs. Steve knocked three times on the door before the tall brunette whom you recognised as Bucky from all his old pictures opened the door. He let you both in. You took off your coat the room wasn’t as warm as you’d like but it was definitely better than the harsh cold outside.

You watched as Steve embraced Bucky in a hug asking him how he was doing. You tried not to let your gaze linger too long on him, but you couldn’t help but admire him. He was a few inches shorter than Steve, but he had the same alert soldiery stance as Steve and the similar Brooklyn accent. Not to mention he was one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. He definitely looked more aged and somehow different than in the photos.

Steve introduced you “This is my wife” He said and Bucky gave you a small smile.

“This punk couldn’t stop talking about you” He said grabbing Steve by the back of his neck.

You were happy to see that even if they both had changed over time, their friendship and bond remained the same. “Good things I hope” You playfully squint your eyes at Steve.

“I’d never say anything bad about you doll” He walked towards you kissing your forehead and putting the backpack you packed on the bed. “You must be tired, you wanna go to bed?” He sat down on the bed cracking his neck, the stress of the last few days getting to him.

You finally had a chance to look around the room. It was what you’d expect from a shady motel. White floors which were now almost yellow, torn wallpaper and an old television. But then you looked at the twin beds. Looks like you’ll have to share one with Steve. You hoped he would be able to get proper sleep, with how tired he looked he really needed it. “I’m tired?” you teased him.

After freshening up and changing into your night clothes, you settled on the bed, sighing in relief as your sore back touched the hard mattress. Out of the corner of your eye you caught a glimpse of Bucky settling in on his bed beside you and his metal hand peeking out of his long sleeved shirt. You wondered what it looked it, did it hurt him? How was he able to move it so naturally as if it’s a part of his body? You really had to bite your tongue to not let your curiosity get the best of you.

“This will have to do for tonight sweetheart” Steve said spooning you from behind and pulling you into him. You sighed out as you felt his bare and warm chest through your tank top. You wouldn’t have to worry about being chilly. Bucky turned to lay on his side away from the both of you.

You hummed as Steve snaked a hand past your tank top and resting it on your soft tummy. Drawing small random patterns on it. Bucky turned off the lights, it wasn’t completely dark, there was plenty of moonlight coming through the window. You insisted on helping Steve out of his steath suit, so you could check in on his wounds and treat them, it was a post mission ritual for you both. But Steve refused to let you in as he changed in the bathroom alone. You feared that his wounds were worse than he was letting on.

“I missed you princess” he whispered in your hair, snapping out of your thoughts. “did you miss me?”

Bucky was snoring and seemed to be in a deep slumber but just to be safe you kept your voice low “I did” You said wiggling your ass against his crotch. You weren’t surprised to find his pretty hard erection there.

“Yeah?” He smirked ghosting his fingers at the elastic of your shorts “how much” before he could dip his fingers your hands stopped him

“Not now” you whispered harshly “Bucky is sleeping right there” you scolded. How he could even think about sex right now you had no idea. You would be mortified if you Bucky woke up to find you both in the middle of it.

“We’ll just be quiet” He said slipping his fingers past your shorts and panties and between your thighs. You wanted to stop him. You really did. But you realised just how much you missed him when he brushed his fingers against your warm folds.

“I can’t be quiet! You know that” You whined as he dipped his finger in your heat. You had no idea what had gotten into him. He loved making you moan, scream and cry. Did he want Bucky to hear you both make love? Steve was more perverted than he let on but this was something even you didn’t know.

“You will try for me won’t you?” He rolled your clit between his fingers and kissed your temple to sooth your thrashing “don’t you wanna be a good girl for me? Hm?” he asked driving three of his fingers inside of you to warm you up.

You should be embarrassed at the sinful noises that your cunt was making, you could hear them clearly since you had to be quiet. But you weren’t. In the moment you just needed to cum. “I wanna cum daddy please” Your voice muffled against the pillow you had pushed your face into to drown out your moans.

“Then cum doll” he said thrusting his fingers into you with purpose.

“I wanna cum on your cock daddy” He groaned at that.

Pulling his fingers out of you. He pulled your panties and your shorts down, bringing the blankets up to your neck “You comfy princess?” You nodded. He pulled his cock out of his sweats nudging it between your buttcheeks. He pulled your bare leg placing it over his hip and holding it there as he slowly pushed into you. He pushed his other hand under you to hold onto and fondle your breasts.

In any other situation this position would be uncomfortable but right now you felt as warm and safe to be surrounded by him. You didn’t feel the need to cum anymore, content with the warmth and the weight of his cock inside you. His steady breathing and heart beat lulling you to sleep.

He didn’t like that. He snapped his hips and pushed his cock deeper inside you. “Don’t fall asleep on me now princess” He warned as he slowly fucked into you.

You dug your nails into his hand which was squeezing your breast as you tried your best to contain your moans. You let out a mewl as Steve stroked your clit while making slow love to you. You were tipped over the edge, cuming hard around his cock and on his fingers.

“Shit” He said as the pace of his thrusts increased “you’re so tight doll. So snug” He bit your ear to keep from groaning out loud. He was about to pull out of you, to clean you up with a washcloth. He wouldn’t trust the towels the hotels provided but he did see you pack a couple, he could use those.

But you tightened the grip of your leg on his hip, forcing him to stay in place. You looked over your shoulder and he could barely make out your pout in the dim light “Stay inside please. Keep me warm” You requested. He had never been good at saying no to you.

So he pecked your lips and chose to forget about the myriad of problems facing him and all of you. At least for now.

Tags will be in the reblogs! If you want to join my taglist click the link in the bio or leave me an ask!

I am sorry about the shitton of nicknames. I just like sweet nicknames ok🥺🥺

#ambersanyficchallenge #sweatersanyficchallenge #steve rogers x soft!reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x original character #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x oc #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader

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talesmaniac89 · 4 years

Text

Choices - The Beginning

Pairing: Dean x Reader OR Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome. You go on a hunt with the two Winchester brothers, one of whom you love. You decide who your Winchester is and what happens along the way. Each part is a fully independently written section and no parts are copies of others, so the story can be read a full 8 different ways with 15 parts in total and 8 endings!

Total word count: 45k+ words (over 15 parts)

Triggers: Dark, torture, reader death, angst, loss, pain, blood, serious injuries, heartbreak, implied possible major character death, fear of abandonment, loneliness, hostage situation, gore (series levels blood, torture and fatal injuries)

Triggers depend on your choices, so if you are easily upset by any of the above please proceed with caution.

[Your Story Starts Here] - You’ll be asked to make your first choice at the bottom of this chapter.

Y/N = Your Name

---

“(Y/N)! Get a move on!”

Dean’s deep voice echoed down the hallway just as you shouldered your duffle bag with a roll of your eyes. It hadn't even been 10 minutes since the call for help had come in. If it wasn’t for the fact that you’d been busy cleaning your guns when the call came, you would’ve already been out there in the library with them, ready to go. It wasn’t as if you’d been standing around fussing over which ratty t-shirt to pack for an hour.

“On my way!” You shouted back, grimacing as the heightened volume easily erased the annoyance you’d wanted to subtly lace each word with. Throwing another quick look around your room in the Men of Letters bunker you sighed at the mess.

T-shirts and jeans were everywhere, as you’d pulled out everything to quickly stuff a few items in your overnight bag just in case the hunt took longer than planned. Not to mention the cleaning supplies you’d left abandoned on the floor from where you’d been sitting cross-legged polishing your favourite revolver.

It would all have to wait till you got back. Even though you knew you’d regret it once you made it back, bruised and stiff from the fight and the subsequent ride back in the Impala. Having to clean your room before you could fall into your bed feeling sorry for your aching bones was never fun.

Yet, sticking to a decision you knew you’d come to regret; you got a move on before Dean could call out for you again. Swiping up your phone, you hurried out into the hallway and nearly ran straight into Sam as he came barrelling out of his own room.

“Dean?” He asked, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a raised eyebrow a clear sign that your annoyance at being rushed was showing on your features. Though it didn’t matter, since the youngest Winchester clearly shared your irritation as he threw you a glance, underscored by an eye roll that put yours to shame.

“Yeah… Dean,” You said with a sigh as you lifted the straps of the duffle bag off of your shoulder. Attempting to bring some blood flow back into your arm from the heavy load of guns, knives, holy water and other goodies. As well as the clothes thrown in for good measure.

“Let’s not keep our oh so righteous leader waiting then. C’mon (Y/N),” Sam smirked, teasing a small smile out of you as well. Before quickly reaching down and effortlessly snatching your duffle bag from your hands and hurrying down the hallway. If it wasn’t for your relief of having the bag off of your shoulders you would have stopped him. Reminded him that you could easily kick his ass if you went one on one.

But, you knew that there were no hidden meanings in Sam’s gesture. He was just trying to be helpful.

You’d realised quite quickly after getting to know him that one of the things the youngest Winchester feared more than anything else was being abandoned; seen as useless or a burden and left standing in the dust. The shadows of his childhood fears were still clinging to him, little tendrils that he’d never managed to shake. Old fears from a youth spent in constant worry that his father would just drop him off somewhere and drive off without ever coming back. That, coupled with the many lost friends, lovers and hunters that had left him, willingly or unwillingly, made him try twice as hard at being of use to those he loved, every step of the way. From small kind gestures, like carrying your bag, to willingly offering himself up as a sacrifice to the big baddies of the world, in hopes of rescuing Dean, Cas, and now you.

Rolling your shoulders to shake off the rest of the strain from the bag, you pocketed your phone before hurrying after Sam down the hallway. No point in being grumpy when there were bad guys to gank. And neither of the two men in your life deserved your grumbled dissatisfaction. Both the bag and Dean’s insistence of getting on the road as fast as possible were just their own little ways of showing they cared.

Sam was just trying to be helpful and Dean was always worried about losing another civilian by being just a second too late. And you loved them both for it. After all, one was your best friend in the whole world, while the other already secretly had your heart. Though you’d never found the courage to tell him you slipped it into his hands when he wasn’t looking.

“(Y/N)!” Dean’s voice echoed down the hallway, pulling you out of your thoughts and back into your grumbled exasperation aimed at the oldest hunter. Ok… So maybe you’d allow yourself to be a tiny big grumpy until there were baddies in front of you to take it out on.

“I said I’m on my way!” You called back in a huff. Casting a quick glance at your closed bedroom door before quickly running to join the boys. Hopefully the bruises yet to come from the hunt wouldn’t make you regret your decision to leave the mess behind.

---

“So where are we headed, exactly?” You asked after about an hour’s drive and a quick case briefing from Dean. Leaning between the seats from the backseat of the Impala in a way that had Sam throwing worried glances your way for your lax seat-belt etiquette.

“There’s a farmhouse, just 40 clicks away now, shouldn’t take long,” Dean’s voice had taken on that steely hardness it got whenever things got serious. And though the case was nothing out of the ordinary for the Winchesters and you, there had already been two reported deaths.

Which also meant that Dean had already added their names and faces to his list of sins to carry. People he could have saved if he could have somehow seen into the future. The oldest Winchester always etched the names of every lost soul into his big heart, burying them there among the many ‘should haves’ and ‘what ifs’ that weighed his broad shoulders down. He was a good leader, and a great hunter, but sometimes he cared a little too deeply. Leaving him hurt no matter how well a hunt went.

“... And put on your seatbelt (Y/N),”

“Yeah, yeah,”

… And sometimes he treated you like a little kid. The thought teased a wry sigh out of you. Quickly reaching out, you turned up the volume of the Led Zeppelin song that was playing, a small act of rebellion, before leaning back in your seat. Smiling innocently as Dean’s green eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror, his attempt at exasperation softened by the way his eyes crinkled in a smile.

No matter how hard as steel the hunter tried to act, he always had a soft spot for Sam and you. To Dean, his feelings were cracks in his armour. They were the blind spots his father had told him about when teaching him to ‘always watch his back’. Yet, the man was more deserving of a family, of love, than anyone else you knew. And so, Sammy and you watched his back instead. Where he watched yours. Both of you determined for the older hunter to see you as strengths, not weaknesses.

Soldiers, shoulder by shoulder.

And, though Dean would constantly complain... You knew he was secretly happy the two of you stuck around; silently terrified of the loneliness he always tried to force onto himself by pushing others away. No matter how loudly his father’s words echoed in his mind and tried to tell him he was leaving himself vulnerable.

Letting Black Dog be your soundtrack, you watched the two most important people in your world from the backseat of the Impala. The Winchester brothers; both carrying scars from the family business they’d fallen into after their mother’s death. Each fearing abandonment and hurt in their own bruised and broken way. Both forced to give up any dream of apple pie to make the world a better place. Children turned soldiers turned martyrs, shaped into a sacrifice by a world that turned a blind eye to their suffering. Which was why you had promised yourself that you would try your damndest to give them a home, and that you would never run away from your life with them.

Even if a certain hunter sometimes made that a hard promise to keep, as every friendly jab broke your heart at the clearly unrequited love you harboured.

You sighed internally as you cast a careful glance in the direction of the man you’d come to love as more than just a hunting buddy or a friend, more than anything really, over the last year and a half of hunting with him. He’d probably be heartbroken to know he was hurting you, which was why you could never tell him how you felt. How your heart and body reacted, as if by reflex, whenever he was around.

Anything he did, from the smallest smile to the feel of his eyes on you, set your body on fire. In a manner not so different to what Robert Plant was promising he’d do to you as Black Dog blared over the Impala’s speaker system. And fuck if you didn’t want to echo the great artist himself and ask the man in front of you to do some not so innocent things to you whenever your eyes strayed to lips that you’d rather have on you than rambling on as they currently were about the case.

“Right… So, to make sure we’re ready…”

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

The man you love is speaking - who is he?

[Dean Winchester] or [Sam Winchester]

---

Tags:

Dean Winchester Stories: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @hobby27 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sea040561

Choices Tags: @deanwinchesterswitch @maddiepants @adoptdontshoppets @foxyjwls007 @mandalou29 @tiki-tay @inked-poet @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @rhysmybaby @heyyy-hey-babyyy @mellilla-rose @queenoftheunderdark @imaginationisgrowth @almostelegantfire @alwaysdreamingforthebest @mydelusionalworld-7 @fatalcrossbow @backseat-of-deans-67chevy @wearesuchstuff1 @amotleyworld @impala-20 @sandlee44 @ksgeekgirl @cheesewaster @aeo10fan @mrswhozeewhatsis @idabbleincrazy @writingthingsisdifficult @ellewritesfix05 @justanotherwinchester @starks-hero @storiesfromtheimpala @iluvsumbucky @ellen-reincarnated1967 @katehuntington

Tags didn’t work for the following names: @lottieellz101 @lovedrarrypizzasleep @katherineisagubler @m2ello @guesswhosback129 @deepsleepnat I’ve sent you a message to notify you instead! @ireallyhaveaproblem unfortunately I can’t send you a message either.

---

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lemon--squeezy · 4 years

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 | 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Summary: 𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫 found love during his teen years and ended up married to his high school sweetheart. However, he hadn't been prepared for the effects caused on him by a younger Agent and coworker.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of/implied attemped rape, sexual scenes, adult language, angst, boss/employee relationship, cheating, age difference and canon-typical violence.

A/N: Before we start I just wanted to warn you that English is not my first language so you might see some grammar and spelling errors, if you spot any just let me know please. I hope you can bear with me! This story in also available on Wattpad

“You made a really deep cut and baby, now we’ve got bad blood…” — Taylor Swift

Rays of a morning sun shine through the many windows, bringing a needy warmth to the cold bullpen of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. As soon as one enters the room, the bitter but invitingly warm scent of black coffee would invade their nostrils; a much needed drink to endure the consuming aspects of working for the FBI. Hushed footsteps, discussions of rapports, chairs moving around and whispers of good mornings are the prominent sounds filling the environment.

At the center of the room, three distinct agents are discussing among themselves about gossips of the office. A strong, shaved headed man, with dark skin and a smirk plastered on his face. By his side, half sitting on his desk is a woman with fluffy bright blonde hair, thick black glasses supported by her delicate nose and wearing colorful clothes, making her stick out in an ocean of grey suits and blazers. Standing in front of them is a raven-headed woman, with pale skin and dressing a dark outfit like no one else could do.

While grabbing his mug and sipping his morning coffee, the man looks at his wristwatch, slightly shaking his head in a mocking disapproval and declares, “It’s officially five minutes since our work time started and Agent Davis hasn’t arrived,” he flashes a smirk to the black headed female who had being part of the team for barely a month and continues, “I hope you’re ready to witness your first breakfast time quarrel between the bossman and Amy.”

Emily, the sophisticated gothic woman, stares confusedly at her teammate and says, “Okay, I’m gonna take the bait. What are you talking about, Morgan?”

He flashes a mischievous smile, “Do you want to explain it to the newbie, baby girl?” Morgan asks the blonde and eager female to tell the new girl about the most volatile - and funny to watch - dynamic of the team. “I’m pretty sure you’ve already noted that my lovely girl Amelia Davis and our stiff yet good-looking Superior don’t tolerate each other,” Penelope happily blabbers. “Since today is Monday and Amy loooves partying hard on the weekends, she’s already late. Something that displeases the bossman who is constantly waiting to scold Amy because of her little mistakes.”

“That is intriguing. Are you sure it isn’t all about sexual tension? That would explain their behavior.” Agent Emily Prentiss questions inducing a gasp from Penelope and a laugh from Derek.

“We’ve all considered it at some point,” the man affirms. “Just don’t say that to Davis or she will lecture you about how terrible it is that two people of the opposite sex aren’t allowed to sincerely and deeply hate one another,” he concludes and looks in the direction of his Superior individual office through the open blinds. “Hotch seems to be especially annoyed today so I bet he won’t even wait for Davis to reach her table before he calls her attention.” Morgan deduces and the elevator cheeps in sync announcing new arrivals, making the three agents stare in its direction. They see a couple of interns hurrying to the coffee marker and the next person to come out is the disheveled figure of Agent Davis. Her crystal blue eyes are hidden by black sunglasses, the woman’s usually perfect long brunette hair is currently disheveled, her button up white shirt is supporting some wrinkles while her dark grey blazer is in her left hand along with her bag. She connects the fingers of her right hand with her temple massaging it in a foolish attempt to ease the headache obviously caused by a hangover.

Amelia tries to walk discreetly in the direction of her desk, hoping she would pass unnoticed by her boss, but she isn’t successful. Seeing her state, Derek whistles and loudly states, “I think someone had a wild night,” he laughs with Prentiss and Penelope. His booming voice affects the balance of Davis, making her stumble over her own feet and before she gets a hold of her chair and tells the man to be quiet, the harsh sound of a door opening echoes through the entire space of the bullpen.

“Agent Davis. My office. Now,” the chief unit’s demand rings like thunder, giving chills to the ones around.

“Fuck,” Amy murmurs while taking off her sunglasses and dropping her belongings on her desk.

The brunette drags her legs, taking her time along the short way to her boss’s office.

Amelia feels like she’s in high school and the principal is calling to lecture her, but that’s something she never experienced during her school years since her teachers adored her effort to have the best grades and eagerness to learn. Besides, she could always blast a polite amiable smile to make people bend at her will. It came easily to Amy, being friendly and kind towards others, virtues that paid off and made everyone like her. Well, everyone but him.

The door to the room is already opened and to Amy, it resembles the entrance of a

scary and dark cave. After she’s inside, she makes sure to close it to shield herself from the curious ears of her coworkers. She goes straight to one of the chairs across from the stoic man, a journey she’s so used to, considering that Hotchner’s constantly expressing his discontent with her whether it was about being a few minutes late, or about a typo in a rapport, or even choosing to use a grey folder instead of the yellow ones. Everything would lead to criticism and by now she would just take it with humor. She mumbles a good morning but Aaron simply ignores it.

“Tell me, Agent, what’s your excuse for today? Two weeks ago there was something wrong with your car, four weeks ago it was a problem with shower. I can’t wait to hear about another one of your misfortunes,” there’s venom watering each word, his eyes colder than a winter day and his entire posture screams irritation.

Amy thinks how he’s ever so ridge when she’s around. Every time she enters the same room as him, the jet black haired man would instantly go ridge like her mere presence was a heinous crime. She’s used to it and more than happy to demonstrate that she is also offended by his existence.

“Would you believe me if I told you that my nanny died?” Davis playfully replies and grins, which boils Aaron’s anger further.

“Do you think this is some sort of joke?” he snaps, standing from his chair and positioning his hands on the desk that separated them. “I can’t have people in this unit that don’t take their job seriously and I don’t have time to endure irresponsibility and lack of respect.”

I bet you would have a lot of free time if you just left me the fuck alone, dude - Amelia thinks while maintaining eye contact with the man.

“One more day of tardiness and you will have to suffer consequences. Is that clear enough for you, agent?” he fumes.

She bites her lips and swallows a bitter response. Not afraid of the outcome, just too tired to deal with her boss’s intensity so early in the day. “Yes, boss.”

“You can leave now,” he grunts and sits back in his chair. Starting to reach for one of the files on his desk; at the same time, Amelia makes a quick way out of the room. Once she gets to her chair, she releases a loud sigh, longing for the day to be over already.

“That seemed intense.” Emily comments. She and Morgan are in their respectives chairs and Penelope has made her way to her own office - after the end of the show, of course.

“You have no idea,” Amy answers while starting her work.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between the two of you?” Prentiss carefully asks, genuinely curious.

“He’s the one who decided to hate me since my first day, I’m just returning the sentiment,” Davis explains, unbothered by the question, being a curious person herself she knows how it is once interest sparks. That’s when Dr. Reid and Agent Jareau arrive, talking to themselves. Spencer is carrying a notebook with a sketch of a boy’s face in it, moving around the room frantically and picking a telephone.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia worriedly questions.

“Need to get that to everyone as soon as possible,” Reid hurriedly explains while making a call. “Detective Barnes, this is Special Agent Doctor Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico,” he clarifies to the person on the other side of the phone and continues rapidly, “Have you had recent murders involving prostitutes? They would’ve been stabbed to death and their hair would’ve been cut off by the killer,” that causes the other Agents to exchange confused glances, intrigued by the sudden event.

“When was the last recent victim?” the Doctor inquires to the Detective on the line.

Seems like we have a case, Amy processes.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fic #agent hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds fanfic #hotch x oc #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!oc #aaron hotchner angst

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calamitykaty · 4 years

Text

Don’t Forget

CHARLIE X READER

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: SOME SWEARING...LOTS OF ANGST, SOME FLUFF

REQUESTED: NO

“Promise you won’t forget about me when you make your dreams come true?” Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as she clung to him desperately.

Charlie’s thumbs swiftly swiped the tears that gathered under her eyes.

“I would never forget you, couldn’t even if I tried, love.” He promised and gently stepped out of her embrace as his flight was called for boarding.

She wrapped her arms around her body, her knuckles white as they dug into her ribs. A quiet sob escaped as she watched her best friend disappear into the airport crowd.

She had been friends with Charlie since they were practically in diapers. She was there for every major milestone of his and he was there for all of hers. She was there when Charlie played his first open mic and he was there for her first dance recital. He held her when she went through her first heartbreak, the same way she held him when he got his first “no” after a huge audition. If you asked Charlie, they went together like Peanut Butter and Eggs.

She remembered crying for what felt like weeks when Charlie broke the news that he was moving to California to chase his dreams of acting. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the day would eventually come but she expected to be right there with him, along for the ride. Life didn’t work out that way for her though. She had suffered a career ending knee injury that took her from the largest stages in Canada to the sidelines of helping other dancers into costume changes backstage.

Charlie kept his promise for the most part, at first, anyways. But then the first year had flown by like nothing and their daily video chats slowly turned into weekly calls before calls turned into texts every now and then until texts turned into instagram comments and occasional likes. It wasn’t long before her calls were sent straight to voicemail by the boy and she felt her world slowly slipping away from her. She couldn’t blame him for living his life. Mostly, she just blamed herself for investing so much of her life into him.

“Y/N!!!” Charlie's voice echoed through the phone, a large smile plastered on his face before he turned the camera around “Look! Palm trees...PALM TREES!” the boy yelled with giddy excitement.

Her laughter filled the air in response. She missed him already but wouldn’t let him know that.

“God, I can’t wait until you come visit. You’re going to love it here! The people...the food...the atmosphere...it’s just so electric here”

“I can’t wait, Char”

The boy turned the camera back around so it was facing him “I miss you” he spoke softly and there it was, the words she was dying to hear.

“You and me against the world, eh?”

“Always, Y/N, Always.”

“Hey, Y/N, we're gonna grab some lunch,.You want something?” She was pulled back to reality by her supervisor.

She shook her head and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. The last show of the season had just wrapped the day prior and she was tasked with organizing all of the costumes and getting them back into storage. She quickly got back to work, pulling dresses from the rack and placing them in dress bags, making sure each was labeled correctly before putting them in order on the storage rack. She did this for each costume before moving to jewelry, shoes and other accessories. She pulled her phone from her pocket at the feeling of it vibrating.

“Did you hear Charlie landed a netflix series?” Her sister, Lane, texted her.

The corners of her lips tugged up into an involuntary smile and she sent back a simple thumbs up emoji before stuffing the phone back into her back pocket.

She could feel angry tears welling up in her eyes and bit her lip trying to keep them at bay. She was happy for Charlie, truly. But the hurt she felt from finding out that he finally got his big break, a potentially life altering role, from her sister instead of from him was almost unbearable. Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed her purse from the desk across the room, fishing her car keys out of the side pocket. She silently made her way across the parking lot to her baby blue Subaru Outback, the car that Charlie had convinced her to buy just so her car would match his orange one.

Y/N quietly sang along to the song on the radio as muscle memory guided her to the local market where she needed to buy a few necessities. She clicked the little lock on her key fob twice, the car beeping to signal the doors had locked. She grabbed a cart and pulled her shopping list out of her purse, though she had every intention of just wandering around aimlessly and grabbing things as she saw fit anyways. She grabbed a box of tampons, some body care essentials and turned down the next aisle, her eyes looking down at the list,

“Granola..” she muttered to herself and let her eyes wander down the aisle until she found what she was looking for. She tossed a canister bag of honey and vanilla granola into her cart before turning down the next aisle.

“Y/N, is that you honey?”

She looked up to find Charlie’s mother standing at the opposite end of the aisle. A smile broke out onto her face as she pushed her cart to the blonde haired woman. “Hi, Mrs. Gillespie” she pulled her into a hug. Charlie’s mom squeezed the breath out of her, the type of hug that only mothers give.

“How have you been, dear? We haven’t seen you around lately.”

She looked away, a tinge of guilt on her stomach. Part of Charlie being her person for so long was his family being like a second family to her, but it also meant that when Charlie disappeared from her life, she too disappeared from theirs.

“Just been busy, I guess” She lied. “I should get going, it was nice seeing you Mrs. G”

Mrs. Gillespie gently squeezed her shoulder “Well, don’t be a stranger, yeah?”

Y/N mustered a smile and nodded her head though her smile just as quickly fell when her ears picked up on a familiar laugh coming from behind her. Y/N hurriedly turned the aisle and let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She felt her hands shaking and contemplated just abandoning her cart and coming back to the market another time.

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and clicked on the instagram app and searched for Charlie’s page. He had posted a picture two days prior of him hiking the Fundy, the caption read Good to be back home. Missed my people and my favorite place to hike. Y/N clicked on the picture, bringing up all of the people he tagged on the post, a mixture of family and friends, but most notably not her.

“Hey, stranger…” Y/N muttered through the phone, the first time Charlie had answered her call in nearly three weeks.

“Hey…” Y/N could hear loud music in the background

“Is this a bad time?” she asked nervously.

“No...I mean...w-well, kinda…” Charlie admitted. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” He offered in exchange.

“Y-yeah, ok.” Y/N sighed, the phone disconnecting before she could say anything else. She had kept her phone next to her at work the entire today the next day waiting for a phone call that never came.

She pushed on through the rest of the market and grabbed all of the items that were on her list before heading to the self check-out. She could see the two Gillespies at the other side of the store, benign checked out by a teenage cashier. She quickly scanned her items and bagged them up before placing her debit card in the card reader and punched her code in before grabbing her receipt and making a hasty beeline for the exit, trying her hardest not to be stopped by Charlie's mother again.

Her plan worked and she made it to her car without being stopped. She clicked the unlock button on her key fob before opening the hatch on the back and began loading her groceries into the back. She had almost escaped scot-free but when she closed the hatch her eyes landed on the boy, leaning against her car with a smile plastered on his face.

“Charles.” She nodded curtly and turned around to take her cart back to the coral. She could hear his footsteps chasing behind her as she pushed the cart where it belonged. She felt the boy tug at her waist, turning her around to face him.

“Hey, stranger” Charlie whispered down to her.

She gently pushed against his chest, creating space between them and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don’t touch me, Charlie.” She meant it to come out of her mouth with venom, for it to sound hateful, and mean but instead it came out as a scared plea.

Charlie frowned, his eyebrows knitted down in confusion. He reached out a hand again but dropped it back down to his side when Y/N stepped further back from him again. She could feel the sting of tears start to prick at the back of her eyes and cursed herself, the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of the boy.

“Y/N…” Charlie begged as she walked away from him and quickly got into her car. She placed the key into the ignition and pulled out of the parking space, leaving the confused boy behind in her rear view mirror. When she got home, Y/N, abandoned her groceries in the car and headed straight to her room when she crawled under the covers and let her body finally feel all of the emotions that she had held in, her body shook with each hiccup caused by her sobs. Her phone quietly dinged next to her every 30 seconds for a few minutes until the texts turned to phone calls that she let go to voicemail.

She woke up to a weight shifting on her bed, her eyes slowly fluttered open and landed on the boy laying next to her with worry in his eyes. She had forgotten that she had given him a key to her apartment the year before he left.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered.

Charlie reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb lightly running from side to side against her soft skin. Y/N flinched at his touch causing him to remove his hand.She wanted to yell out to him, to push him away and tell him that she never wanted to see him again but she just didn’t have the energy to fight him.

“Why was I so easy to forget?” she settled on, her voice raspy and broken.

He knew he had hurt her but had spent the last year pushing it to the back of his mind, reassuring himself that when he got back to town that everything would just fall back into place. He never took into account the magnitude of pain that he had caused his person.

“Y/N...I-i’m sorry” Charlie blinked back his own tears “y-you’re not forgettable--you’re everything to me, you’re my person.”

“I’m not” Y/N whispered, “not anymore, Charlie.” Her eyes avoided his as she turned onto her back to stare at the stark white ceiling.

“Congrats on the netflix role”

‘I was going to tell you” Charlie sighed.

She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her cheek. Y/N pursed her lips “sure.” She could feel the anger in chest start to ignite again and tuned so her back was facing him.

“You don’t get to come back, Charlie, and act like you didn’t erase me from your life over the past year.”

‘That’s not true, Y/N, I didn’t--”

“It is! And you know it!” She cut him off, her voice growing louder. She swung her legs to the edge of the bed and stood up, Charlie following suit.

“It’s not like you ever came to visit me in California, this isn’t all on me, Y/N” Charlie argued.

Y/N shot daggers at the boy, her hands raked through her hair. “Are you fucking kidding me, Charlie?” She spit with venom “You NEVER invited me! YOU stopped taking my calls, YOU stopped answering my texts, YOU decided you didn’t want me anymore.”

Charlie's face softened “T-that isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it though?” She hissed in response with a bitter laugh.

“It was too hard” Charlie admitted selfishly “I couldn’t get you out of my head a-and I was blowing auditions because of it. I--I was really homesick..for you…” He closed the distance between them and pulled Y/N into his arms despite her pushing against his chest, he held tighter until her arms wrapped around his waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” Charlie whispered over and over and kissed the top of her head. The pair clung together for what seemed like an eternity before Charlie pulled back and cupped her face with both of his hands, the pads of his thumbs wiping away her tears.

“Come to Vancouver with me?” His eyes searched hers.

“Vancouver?”

Charlie let his lips curl up “It’s where the series is getting filmed, come with me...I don’t want to lose you again” he pleaded, his eyes flicking down from her eyes to her lips and back up again.

“Yeah..ok” Y/N hesitantly agreed as she leaned in meeting Charlie halfway, their lips connected. Charlie dropped his right hand from her cheek and grabbed her hip, pulling her closer to him. Her hands weaved around his neck as her mouth opened, inviting Charlie in to explore before she pulled back and rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Charlie admitted sheepishly. Y/N rocked up on her toes, her lips ghosting across his “next time don’t wait so long” she responded before connecting their lips again.

Let me know if you wan to be added to my taglist!

@crybabyddl @straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp #jatp fanfic #luke patterson #luke patterson fanfiction #charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagine #julie and the phantoms #I cried twice while writing this #that is what happens when you get too invested in your made up character #my dog stared at me like damn bitch again??

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sailtoafarawayland · 4 years

Text

Walk Me Through The Dark (1/1) Alpha/Omega one-shot

Summary: There are no guarantees that life will be easy or happy, but Emma had finally found all that and more in the form of Killian Jones, her best friend, her alpha and mate. She’d forgotten what it was to fear, to run, to have the hope knocked from her body, but she’s about to remember, and so is he.

Rating: Explicit, read through A/N for trigger warnings, or skip to after the cut for spoiler-free

A big thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for beta reading and supporting this story!

AO3 or FF

Author’s Note: This is a hurt/comfort omegaverse based fic for CS. It is rated E for a reason. Tags/Trigger Warnings are as follows: Attempted rape/non-con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Heavy Angst, Sexual Assault Recovery

-Walk Me Through The Dark-

Emma hung onto the rail above her as the subway lurched into motion, her long curls falling around her face and giving some sense of privacy in the crowded car. She stared down at the screen on her phone, a soft smile on her face. Tapping a quick reply to Mary Margaret with one finger, she swiped back to the previous screen, selecting Killian's name and letting go of her hold on the rail so she could send him a message. The train swayed and she widened her stance, regaining her balance. Her stomach churned slightly at the motion and she frowned. She shouldn't have eaten the curry from the food truck for lunch, it never sat well.

She tapped send and reached for the support of the rail again.

E: What are you doing for dinner, babe?

Her eyes traveled the length of the car as she waited for his response. He'd mentioned earlier that his latest overhaul may keep him at the ship yard for some late nights, but the picture Mary Margaret had sent – something simmering in red sauce with a crispy layer of cheese – left her wondering what her mate would be doing to feed himself that evening.

Her cell vibrated in her hand.

K: If I'm lucky, there will be some takeaway left in the work fridge, though I'd much rather be enjoying the evening with you, love.

Heat rushed into her cheeks as she read his words, the echo of his voice in her head. He loved his work at the ship yard, and though it had taken her a long time to realize the sincerity of his words, she knew now just how much truth was in them. Despite having a job that he'd long dreamed about, his favorite place to be was always at her side. The way he made her feel, loved and wanted, was a far cry from how she'd felt her entire childhood into her adult life.

E: I miss you too. Don't forget there's leftover alfredo at home, if you end up not staying too late.

E: Looks like MM is making lasagna.

Their apartment wasn't too far from his office, and she hoped the idea of fresh food would lure him away from whatever dried out leavings had been abandoned by his coworkers.

K: Both of those sound very tempting at the moment. Give MM and David my love.

Emma smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket, settling in for the rest of the ride out to the Nolan's. Friday night dinners had become something of a tradition between the four friends, but things had been so overwhelming at the ship yard lately that Killian missed them more often than he liked. Luckily, his latest overhaul was coming to an end soon, and they were both hoping things would be a bit more manageable.

The car rocked again and Emma swallowed, a sudden wave of nausea creeping up her throat as they moved, something about the steady creaking of the wheels and the sway of the train making her feel sick. Honestly, that was the last time she went with spicy food, it always made her feel off, despite how delicious it was. She closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers, sweat beginning to dampen her palm, more tightly around the rail, wishing she were anywhere else as the nausea worsened, her stomach churning and cramping. A tingling warmth worked its way up through her body, spreading along her arms and legs. Another cramp twisted deep in her abdomen, and that's when it hit her.

Her heat was coming on early.

Panic surged beneath the burning heat and nausea as she sucked in a deep breath. It was too early, by a week and a half at least. She would have never dared take public transit if she thought there was even a chance...and now she was stuck on the T with a crammed car. Her eyes darted to the digital map above the door, the light that indicated their position creeping along slowly to North Quincy station. They were only a quarter of the way along, and she cursed her luck.

The doctor had warned her more than once that she could end up suffering from unmanageable heats down the road due to her early use of suppressants, but so far she'd escaped having to deal with any of that. She'd thought she was in the clear.

She could feel the instincts that became heightened during her heats start to spike, the panic only making them sharper. She needed to get off this train, the locked doors and windows and the sheer press of people triggering an instinctual need to run, to get to a place that was warm and safe, a place that was familiar – their bed at home with the blankets piled high and smelling of her mate.

She needed Killian.

She needed her Alpha, but he was already too far, and she was stuck on a train heading in the opposite direction.

Another sharp cramp twisted her insides and she bit back a whimper, adrenaline pumping through her veins and sweat beading on her skin as she shifted, stealing a glance at the people surrounding her. Almost everyone seemed unaware of her predicament, which made sense. Her heat was only just at the beginning of its climb, and it was unlikely that betas would notice much difference in the pheromones her body was producing – not this early on. Only alphas and omegas possessed the hyper-sensitive ability to pick out those scents from the air at such an early stage.

Then her eyes fell on the far corner of the car, and she saw him.

He leaned casually into the corner, but his eyes were narrowed and hard, his lips touched by the start of a smile as he realized that she knew he knew. Flexing his shoulders, he lifted his nose to the air and drew in a deep breath, his mouth twisting into a feral grin.

Emma's eyes widened with fear and she snapped her head back down, breathing heavily as a shiver washed over her body, the hair on her neck prickling. That had been a mistake, she realized, looking away – too submissive and sure to goad the strange alpha into action. She should have stared him down, and normally she would have, but somehow, being stuck in a confined space so far from her mate, her heat bearing down on her in a way that was faster and worse than normal – she was utterly terrified.

The man staring her down – she could feel it, even if she refused to look back in his direction – seemed to be a typical alpha from what she'd briefly seen. He wielded his large, bulky frame with the ease of someone used to getting their way and being obeyed, looming over the people beside him with an air of authority. He'd made a show of scenting the air when she'd laid eyes on him, and the fact that he was so blatantly displaying his interest had the taste of bile stinging sharply in the back of her throat.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

She wanted it to be yesterday, before her body betrayed her and she was stuck in this nightmare.

Another cramp twisted in her gut, longer and sharper, her teeth digging into her lip as she tried to hold back the whine she could feel building in her throat – a call that was always answered by the reassuring rumble of her mate, except he wasn't here.

He was too far, and despite the flush of heat consuming her, she was so cold, her body insisting that she needed the warmth and security only he could provide.

She wanted to call him, the urge to do so almost irrepressible, but she knew he'd be a frantic mess, worrying for no reason. As long as the alpha in the corner kept his distance, she'd be fine – and it's not like he was crazy. Her claim mark would have been clearly visible when she turned toward him, and she knew that her scent gland was in overdrive, producing copious amounts of not only her own signals for heat, but the potent scent of her mate as well, broadcasting to any other alphas in the area that she wasn't a free omega. The guy had to know, so she felt reassured that he'd leave her alone.

She had to believe it, because the alternative was too frightening to consider.

No, there was no reason to call her mate and worry him over nothing. She had time. She'd jump out at North Quincy and grab a car straight back home. Then she would call Killian and let him know that he'd need to cut his work night short. If she was lucky, he'd already be there, drawn in by the promise of chicken alfredo.

Sweat slid from her cold grasp on the rail down the inside of her wrist in into her jacket.

She had to believe that everything would be fine, and for a few minutes it felt that way. It was the movement in her peripheral vision that betrayed that hope. The stray alpha was leaving his place at the other end of the car, people parting around him as he made his way closer. His body was tensed as he took another deep whiff of the air around him, a look of impatience on his face.

“Sorry,” Emma stammered, apologizing to the woman she'd accidentally pushed against in her futile effort to put more distance between herself and the threat the man posed.

Another shiver racked her body, adrenaline amplifying every normal inconvenience that her heat brought out – the cramps, the chills, the clawing need for her mate, and with that, the steady rush of slick that was just starting to slip from between her thighs. She wrangled with her own body, fighting for control and losing, her attention so caught up in maintaining some sort of normalcy that she didn't realize the alpha had moved closer until she felt his hot breath against the back of her neck, the air around her thickening with a sour, deep musk that was simply wrong.

She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out, instead she fell forward, nearly on top of someone in the seat. She'd just managed to pull her feet back beneath her when she felt a firm hand wrap itself around her bicep, hauling her backward.

“Now, now, Omega,” the man chuckled close in her ear, the heat radiating from his body making her want to vomit. “Seems like you need some help.”

“No,” she ground out, almost unable to hear her own words, the hammering of her pulse in her ears drowning them out. “No. I'm claimed.”

She tore herself out of the man's grip and moved quickly toward the small circle of space near the door, uncaring of the people she elbowed or pushed aside to get there. The map above her was starting the blink, the little bulb beneath N. Quincy Station finally lighting up.

Thank god.

With any luck the man had taken the hint and wouldn't risk making a scene. At this point, there had to be at least one or two others on the car aware of what was happening, and there was no way any sane alpha would risk the trouble he could get into for pushing himself on a claimed omega. She hoped – but her heat always gave her tunnel vision, and the only thing she could think of was Killian, of how badly she needed him and how she'd never felt more vulnerable than in that moment.

The train finally slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. She'd never moved more quickly in her life, shoving aside the few people that tried to cut her off as she bolted from the train, never even hearing the muttered curses a few commuters send her way.

Her vision blurred in time with her heart, pinching and expanding as her heat slipped into the next gear. She stumbled forward and leaned heavily against a concrete support not far from the train as another cramp jolted through her core, leaving her nerves tingling in pain. She chanced a look back through the thinning crowd as the doors slid shut, but she didn't see him in the station.

Fearing what she might not see, she looked into the window of the car, but she couldn't make out his bulk there either. He wasn't on the train, but she hadn't seen him in the station either. She would have noticed.

The wave of nausea and cramps passed and she pulled out her cell, punching in Killian's number, her breathing echoing in her ears as she waited for the call to connect. He was at work, and she hardly ever called him there, so of course he picked up immediately, concern tainting the voice she'd needed so desperately to hear.

“Emma, is everything alright, love?”

Hearing his actual voice broke something in her, the wall she'd been holding up out of sheer determination, needing to believe that everything would be fine, that the alpha on the train was just going to forget her – but there was a small, niggling part of her brain warning that she would have seen him in the car if he'd stayed, if he hadn't followed her out.

“Killian,” she whimpered, every bit of that fear communicated through the tremor in her voice, in the way her breath fell in short pants as she moved farther out of the station, her eyes darting to the dark corners around her as she hurried toward the back parking lot.

“Emma,” he rushed, his voice laced with dread. “Emma, where are you? What's wrong?”

“My heat, it's early,” she muttered. “I was on the train when it hit. It's bad...”

“I'm coming to get you. What station?”

She nearly dropped the phone as another cramp rocked her, more slick cooling her thighs and dampening her jeans, her breath cut short as she struggled upright again.

“Emma!” Killian snapped just as she brought the phone back to her ear. “What station, Emma?”

“North Quincy. Killian...there was an alpha on the train.”

She could hear the sharp intake of his breath, something in the background dropping to the ground.

“Emma, I'm coming. Can you stay where there are people?”

“I don't know if he followed me,” she admitted, finally saying the thing she hadn't wanted to confront aloud. She hadn't seen him as the station emptied out around her, but there was no denying the odor of his musk that still drifted toward her occasionally. She wanted to believe it was lingering from where he'd wrapped his sweating hand around her arm, but she couldn't be sure. “There's no one here,” she whispered, blanching when she finally realized how far she'd walked in her daze. “I'm in the parking lot. I was gonna grab an Uber home.”

“Are there any cabs? Any cars, love?”

“No, it's so empty, Killian. There's no one here...”

“Stay on the line with me, Emma. I'm coming – right now. I'm on my way.”

Her mate's voice was wrecked, cracking with fear that she knew he was trying to keep at bay. In her gut she knew he was probably more frightened than she was, because she at least had the luxury of her heat muting everything it didn't deem important, but he didn't even have that. Entwining with hers, his fear only made her desire to burrow into their bed that much stronger, everything other than her need for him and a safe place dimming slightly. She wanted home, nestled in warmth with his weight on top of her. She'd be so full and sated, content with him curled around her back...

“Emma.”

Killian's voice broke through the fog, strained but firm, and she found herself humming in response, his voice sending a pleasing vibration through her body.

“Omega!” he snapped, and her purr turned into a whine at the sharp tone of displeasure, but his attempt to pull her back to reality worked, and some semblance of clarity came back to her as she hurried further into the parking lot.

“I'm here – I just...it's bad, Killian. It's coming fast and hard.”

“Just stay with me, love. Look around, do you see the alpha from the train? Did he follow you?”

She turned in place, trying to focus on her surroundings, the sidewalks and the slight glow of the lobby in the empty station, the parked cars and streetlights that cast wide circles of light across the pavement. She didn't see him, but there was this feeling, this warning in her gut that she'd learned to trust.

“I don't see him, but I think...oh, god, I think maybe he did. I don't know. I'm scared, Killian.” She stumbled backwards over the concrete lip of a planted median and grabbed onto the mirror of a car to steady herself. She needed to get farther from the building, someplace dark and hidden and safe – someplace he wouldn't see her. “I have to get out of sight. Maybe he'll just give up...”

“Can you get somewhere with people?”

“Not without going back through the station to the front...there's no one here,” she whispered, the tiny, logical part of her brain still working thinking how insane it was that the parking lot was this empty, like all of her bad luck had saved itself up for one day. “He could be inside still, if I try to go back.”

Just as she was threading her way between two vehicles, her eyes still locked on the station, she saw the silhouette of someone large approaching the doors she'd left mere minutes before, and she knew it was him. Before he could spot her, she dropped to the ground in a crouch, ignoring the sharp cramp that twisted in her gut with every ounce of determination she had left, gritting her teeth and moving farther through the parking lot.

“He's here,” she whispered, sliding her back against the front wheel of a car, her already soaked jeans pressed against the damp pavement. “He's here.”

Everything slowed, her heart beating like a dying drum against her chest, her breath shallow and drawn out on a tremble. She tightened her grip as her phone nearly tumbled from her sweat-slicked hand, her mouth dry with the taste of bile and metal.

He was going to find her. He would find her, and there would be nothing she could do.

The pain in her stomach had doubled, her body caught between fear and desperation, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand, let alone run.

“I'm coming. I'm almost there, I promise. I'm not going to let him hurt you, okay? Just stay quiet, love. Please, just stay with me, Emma.”

He was too far, so far.

“I'm here,” she breathed. “Killian...I'm so scared.”

For a moment there was nothing more than the sound of his wrecked breathing and her quiet pants. Her hearing was sharpened, but she didn't hear any footsteps, didn't know if she even would over the rapid flutter of her pulse in her ears. There was a chance, if she had any luck left, that he'd glanced out the door and hadn't seen her. Maybe he was gone.

She exhaled and the air around her finally shifted, a gust of wind sweeping over the lot and cooling her heated skin. She almost sighed, the relief it brought making her forget for a second that she was drenched with slick, feverish and freezing at the same time – but then she smelled him, the alpha from the train.

He was close, the scent strong and just starting to deepen with notes of an alpha in rut, but nothing about it was heady and intoxicating like her own mate's. It was all wrong, and something feral in her snarled, wanting nothing to do with the male following her.

“Killian,” she broke, her whispered words nearly a cry, tears mixing with sweat as she realized her time was up, her vision blurring.

If she could smell the alpha, then he could smell her.

He would find her.

“Emma, I'm so close. I'll find you, I promise.”

“Killian, I love –”

Her phone clattered to the pavement at her feet, her words stolen as a strong hand grabbed her arm, ripping her up from where she'd been hiding. A pained yelp flew from her mouth as her shoulder twisted painfully, the world spinning as she was pinned against the hood of the car, a heavy body covering her back.

Her attacker's face pushed roughly into the crook of her neck, scenting her with a groan. She shuddered, squirming beneath him, her cries muffled as the suffocating weight of his arm pressed into her face. She sucked in meager, burning gulps of air, vomit rising in the back of her mouth as his tongue swept over the claim mark on her neck.

“You really gave me a chase,” the alpha groaned, his hips rutting against her backside, thrusting her own sore and cramping body into the wheel well. “I like a good chase though, and I've never smelled anything like you before.”

Twisting as much as she was able, she latched her teeth into an exposed section of his hand, her stomach lurching as the taste of blood filled her mouth, his angered snarl cutting across the dark parking lot. For a brief second the pressure eased and Emma hoped she might have a chance, but before she could even draw in a full breath he was back on her, changing his hold and wrapping his bloody fingers around the back of her neck instead. Cold air whipped between their lower bodies and she screamed as his other hand moved to her jeans, her knees banging against metal as she struggled.

“You don't know your place, Omega,” he growled, enjoying her whimper of pain as he pushed her more forcefully against the car, the sound of his zipper making her freeze. “I'll teach you. You'll thank me too. By the end you'll be begging for my knot.”

He kept talking, but his words were slipping away, everything moving farther away – even the piercing noise that Emma thought might have been her own screams, but she didn't know. She couldn't breathe, let alone scream. His fingers were tugging at her zipper, the wet, stubborn material of her jeans scrunching slowly down her hips.

She fought, struggled through the heavy fog settling around her. She didn't want this. It was all wrong. Not her mate, not Killian.

Then the world collapsed around her, lights and sounds finally folding into nothingness like a house of cards as her attacker grew more impatient, her body rocking against the car with each jerk as he struggled to lower the soaked material down her body, her position making it near impossible for him to get the jeans low enough with one hand.

Everything felt so distant, her breath on the hood of the car spreading like smoke and then fading away.

Then in a sudden rush the world snapped back to her, the hot weight against her back and fumbling hands torn away – the sound of something crashing into metal. The sound of a struggle as something was dragged across the pavement, grunts and curses and the sound of a fist hitting something over and over. There were voices now, shouts that come to her like a light through the fog. The sound of her jacket dragging against metal as she slumped to the ground. The sound of her sneakers pushing back gravel, and then the sound of her own voice as her knees hit the pavement.

“Killian,” she rasped, smelling him before she saw him, movement and light and clarity returning to her just as he rushed to her side, his blue eyes shining with tears and his hand, bloodied and swollen, moving to cup her face as he pulled her from the ground, as if she weighed nothing.

To him she never had.

She wanted to cry, finally enveloped by the heat and the scent and the person she needed, her hands twisting in his shirt as she strove to somehow get closer. Sensing her need, Killian shifted her carefully, juggling her in his arms as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it over her and shielding her in safety and comfort. His sweat and musk were soaked into the material, his scent flooding her, calming her frayed nerves and the part of her that still wanted to jump and kick at every noise reaching her ears.

His body was shaking with adrenaline, the tremors vibrating through her. She nestled against him, rubbing her cheek and neck along his skin in the way she knew would stir her own scent gland, easing his worry and calming him. She felt him settle around her, but then he started to move, growling out something unintelligible – it was then that she realized there must be people standing nearby. He paused and she clung to him tightly, his arms responding in kind. Fear crawled along her spine at the thought someone might be trying to separate them. From a gap in his jacket she could see the flicker of lights, red and blue against the metallic sheen of the cars. She knew he must be talking with a cop, that help had come, but she couldn't focus on the words.

Now that she was where she should be, the reality of her heat was falling back over her like a familiar weight.

The gentle swagger of his body resumed and there was the sound of a car door opening – a brief moment of terror when he let her go, her response immediate and frantic, but then he was back at her side, scooping her from the seat and back into his lap as he barked their address at whoever was driving.

The car pulled away, the fog of fear lessening and eventually falling away from her entirely as she basked in the comfort that was her mate, his arms wrapped solidly around her as he whispered her name over and over into her hair, his fingers caressing her sweat-soaked skin and soothing the writhing need inside of her, wordless promises that she wouldn't feel aching and empty for long, that he would take care of her.

~ * ~ * ~

She isn't sure how long the trip back home takes, but every moment she slides further away from the trauma she'd been put through and into the instinctual need that feels like it just may rip her apart. She's bathed in the scent of her mate – the deep, spicy musk heavy on his skin, laced with notes of sea salt and sweetness and something unique only to him. It's everything she's ever needed. Adrenaline and fear had triggered his rut in the same way they'd worsened her heat, and the familiar intoxicating tang that it edged his scent with was driving her wild with need, slick pooling once more between her legs as she core throbbed violently.

Her attack seems so distant, and far less important than finally getting into the privacy of their own home, to the place where her mate can soothe her and give them what they both desperately need. She wriggles in his lap, unable to hold back the needy plea that she presses into his skin, delighting in the low growl vibrating through his chest as he tightens his grip. Words are snapped at the driver and then Killian is tipping them both to the side as he digs into his pocket. A moment later the car slows to a stop and he's tossing something onto the front seat before easing them outside, her body still caged tightly within his arms.

His jacket is still draped over her, his arms holding it in place, but the collar had settled around her neck and she looks up into his stormy eyes, his pupils blown-wide, just as surely as her own are. There's an unquenchable need there, but below it she sees the fear, the regret and guilt, the anger. Her fingers drift up and cradle the tense line of his jaw, stroking until his muscles unclench, hoping he understands that everything is alright, everything will be alright.

They're together, and she's never felt more safe than she does right now.

He doesn't put her down, not once, despite the struggle it gives him in getting into the apartment, but she doesn't want him to, doesn't think she could stand to be separated for even an instant. She knows there are a lot of things to be said, to be asked, to be cried over, but right now she can't think past tearing off all of the layers that are keeping them apart.

They don't make it farther than the entryway, the door slamming shut behind them as he fingers the offending material of her jacket, the stench of the other alpha still wafting from the wool into the air. When he peels it carefully from her body, clearly resisting the urge to tear it from her, she sighs in relief, shrugging off the weight of it as he tosses it violently across the room.

Killian normally loves taking his time with his mate, using his fingers and mouth to bring her to completion before finally giving in to the crushing need to fill her and knot her, but her need is too great right now, too desperate, and his sudden rut is making it near impossible for him to walk her to the bedroom, let alone take care of her in the way he wants – to sit her down and ask what he can do, what she needs – he knows that she needs this, and he'll give it to her, to them both.

“Alpha...” she begs, suddenly falling to the floor at his feet, her chest pressed against his legs as she rubs her cheek against his crotch, her fingers trembling as she struggles to undo the button of his pants “...need you, Alpha.”

The air between them is thick with the mix of their scents, his blood pounding in his ears, need and fear and desire rolling together like some wild thing, the sweet scent of her slick so strong he can taste it on his tongue, wants to taste it on her soaked flesh.

“Omega,” he rasps, his vision sharpening to see her and only her, his cock hard and throbbing and every instinct in his body telling him that his omega needs him, that only he can give her what she craves. His hands settle tightly on her shoulders, turning her gently on the entryway carpet. “Present for your Alpha.”

Small, expectant whimpers tremble from her throat as she drops to her belly and slides her knees up behind her, her fingers hastily grabbing her rumpled jeans and pushing the sodden material over her ass and down her thighs, wriggling her legs to get them to her knees as an overpowering wave of her scent plows into him.

The sight of her sex, swollen and exposed, presented so wantonly in the air for him has his knot swelling at the base of his cock, his pulse racing as he shoves his jeans down his own legs and kneels behind her, holding the beast in him at bay so he can snatch one last human moment before he's lost completely, burying his mouth in her folds and greedily lapping her juices up, his tongue sweeping every inch he can reach before he pulls back with a growl, images flashing through his head – another alpha's hands on her, another male scenting her, imagining what she would feel like.

Somewhere in the back of his brain he knows that this isn't about that, but gods he needs to feel her to know that she's really there, that they're both here and he made it to her in time, that he didn't let her down completely when she needed him most, that she needs him in this way just as urgently as he needs her.

“Emma,” he whispers, her excited pants driving him on as he pulls back and hovers behind her, the swollen head of his cock throbbing against her scorching folds as his hands settle on her hips, “my Omega...”

“God, yes, yours, Alpha, always yours...”

“Mine.”

And then he's burying himself inside of her, her walls seizing around him the instant he does, her cries of his title and name muffled in the carpet as she gyrates her hips, trying to impale herself further. He wants to savor that first, heavenly wave of pleasure that sinking into her always brings, but the beast inside of him is unrelenting, needing to remind the both of them that she is his, and he is hers. Everything other than the ecstasy of their joining and her delicious noises falls away from him, lost beneath the haze of instincts he can't escape – his hips pistoning as he drags his cock from her grasping channel and thrusts back in, slick running freely from his omega and soaking the floor beneath them as she begs and pleads for all of him.

“Is that what you want, Omega,” he pants, the wet sounds of him pulling out and driving back into her filling the air, her firm ass bouncing as he rams into her again and again. “You need your Alpha's knot?”

“Please, Alpha, please, need it so bad,” she mumbles, her words running one over the next as she lets out a moan and shudders around him, so close to falling apart, but needing the fullness of his knot stretching her. “Just yours, just yours, Alpha...”

She tries to struggle upward, unable to shake the urge to feel her alpha covering her completely, his chest pressed against her back as he thrusts into her, claiming her entirely and leaving no inch of her body unmarked by his firm hold and powerful scent. She's shaking, her limbs barely able to support her own weight as he continues to plow into her, his knot fully swollen and catching the edges of her opening with each push deeper, but he senses what she needs, that the separation between them is too much, and he pauses for a second to move his hands from her hips, grabbing her arms and yanking her upper half closer, their two bodies bent together as he pulls her tightly against his chest, swallowing her small frame entirely as he holds her up, his rut bringing with it a strength that doesn't answer to weariness, but only to need.

His grunts are hot and rhythmic against her neck as he moves within her, his teeth sharper and gently razing the swollen gland that already bears his claim mark, sweat running from both of their bodies and sliding between them. Still riled by the threat to his omega, the beast inside of him is wild and frenzied, driving him to mark her again, to claim her once more – the only thing that will sate him. Beneath him her whimpers spiral into something keening and primal, her legs trembling despite the fact that he's holding both of them suspended as he thrusts, and he knows she's almost there, can feel her swollen walls spasming around him.

He slides one hand down her stomach, changing their angle and forcing himself deeper, his knot brushing further within her swollen walls as they begin to pulse around him.

“Mine, Omega...” he growls, completely lost to the beast as she keens beneath him in answer.

She is his, always his.

“Need it, need it, Alpha, please,” she cries, her walls pulling at the throbbing edge of his knot with each teasing thrust. “Need to feel you fill me up, make me yours, please...”

“Open up for me,” he pants against her skin, his teeth gliding down to clamp around the swell of her shoulder. He moves his hand lower and rubs against her clit, his calloused fingers pinching roughly, his words like liquid sin rolling over her, his cock thick and hard and stretching her in all the right ways, everything flowing and surging together in a brutal wave that crashes over her all at once, her vision fading and slipping into darkness as she shakes beneath him – the familiar sting of his teeth marking her shoulder a vibrant shock of blinding light beneath her lids, drawing every last pulsing moment of rapture from her body.

He thrusts into her one final time, his own peace finding him as he forces the swell of his knot into her tight sheath, the coil in his gut snapping and exploding outward as pleasure rocks his body, her walls milking every last drop of his seed – the beast inside of him quelled.

They come down together, Emma collapsing as he releases her shoulder and cushions her fall with his arms, stifling a groan at the pull between them where he's tightly joined with her still. He carefully maneuvers them to their sides on the damp carpet, Emma's breath leaving her in a gasp as the movement shifts him within her slightly, her walls shivering around him and drawing a last spasm from his still hard member.

“Killian,” she whispers, her voice tired yet serene, her head rolling against his chest so their lips can find one another. “Alpha...”

There are a few blissful minutes where their bodies breath as one, sighs traded between their lips and fingers tracing heated skin, but then the fog of need disperses and the weight of the evening falls back onto them, her body shaking in his embrace.

“Oh, love,” he murmurs, wishing he could pull her more comfortably into the safety of his arms, or that he’d spared a thought to getting them to the bedroom before they’d joined.

She reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressing small kisses into his skin, her tears running along her cheeks and into his palm as she weeps. He tries to hold and comfort her as best he can, his own tears darkening her hair as he presses her closer, whispering soft noises between them. He wants to tell her how sorry he is that he wasn’t by her side, that he hadn’t been able to prevent that monster from ever laying a hand on her, but he knows saying the words won’t make them true, and the last thing he wants to do is burden her with his own failings. With no words strong enough to soothe the hurt that’s been done to her, he simply offers what he can with his presence. As soon as their bodies slip apart, she’s turning into him, burying her face in the warmth of his chest and sighing into his embrace, neither of them sure of the next steps to take, or where those steps might take them.

~ * ~ * ~

It was never going to be easy – taking broken things and making them resemble what they once did never is, but its almost impossible when a new, jagged memory sits among the rest, waiting to find its place.

It wasn't easy the first week that swung violently between frantic couplings and emotional upheaval, a man and woman in uniform sitting opposite their couch as Emma recounted what happened, her hands gripping Killian's like a lifeline. He sat on the edge of the cushion, his body slanted between her and the police. Still mid-rut, his instincts to protect and shield her were at war with the man who understood she needed to tell her story, to do what she could to put the monster who had assaulted her behind bars.

It didn't get any easier the next week when her body finally gasped and released its need, her heat dissipating and leaving her an empty, broken shell that every happiness seemed to run straight through, spilling on the floor.

And none of the hours, or days, or weeks that came after were better. She'd wake at night with the memory of hands on her arm, pressing against her neck – the wrong hands – but there was never more than a second of panic before she was wrapped in the rightness that was her mate, her fears soothed if only for a few moments.

It wasn't easy when she sat on the couch with her therapist, sometimes talking, and sometimes saying nothing at all, but always wondering if those pieces she'd been broken into would ever amount to the strong, capable woman she used to be, or if that one dark piece meant they'd stay forever on the floor, waiting for the next blow that would crush them into an even finer dust.

It wasn't easy for Killian either, not the first week when he bent to the instincts they were both driven by, man warring with pure, primal need, unable to do anything but give in, but fearful that it was too much too soon – both the man and the beast left rabid with fury when the police informed them that while they suspected her attacker had a similar history in other cities, without corroboration or a record, he'd most likely be able to bargain down to a slap on the wrist.

It didn't get any easier after their rut and heat ended, reality slipping through their doorway as they searched for a new normal that didn't disturb the broken pieces that littered the floor and met them each day in the mirror. Killian confided that he'd decided to walk home for dinner when she mentioned the leftovers, that if he hadn't, if he'd decided to stay at the office, he was terrified to think of how much longer it would have taken him to get to her – how one little decision had meant so much. What other decision could he make that would be the wrong one?

None of the hours, day, or weeks that followed were better, waking from his own nightmares to comfort his mate, images he'd never forget still etched behind his closed eyes as Emma shuddered in his arms – the police holding him back from a scene he didn't want to see, Emma bloodied and broken on the ground because he'd taken too long to reach her, because she was a fighter, because he'd failed her.

He'd finally agreed to see someone, to try to find a way just as Emma was, but even then the weight of fixing things felt like a burden he'd crumble beneath, one infinitesimal crack away from shattering. How could he take the guilt, the anger, the resentment, the fear and wrap them up neatly into something that wouldn't drag him down with each step he took? How could he be there for Emma if he couldn't hold himself up? How could he forgive himself?

It wasn't easy, and it took more days and months than they could count, some of them passing in moments of brightness and others lingering like a sickness they couldn't shake, but they had each other. They had help, and gradually, like seasons shifting, the minutes between dark moments grew a little longer, the days between nightmares stretched.

It was months before they took anything but a car to get around Boston, and even then never alone. Emma still hated confined spaces, leaving the doors open to every room she was in, even at work or home, and neither of them were as comfortable with long absences than they once were. When Killian mentioned a transfer to a small ship yard in New York, Emma could see through his reassurances that he would be happy there. She knew his heart, and she also knew hers, so she knew it wasn't right for them.

This was their home, and she wasn't going to let that monster take it away from her, from Killian, from the future they'd always envisioned here.

So they fought for it, through the days that were easy and the ones that weren't, which a year later were few and far between, and on the day that Emma told Killian they would need to move his office out of the spare room, it had never been easier to forget that brief moment of darkness in the face of so much light and promise.

And on the day they painted it a beautiful sea-blue that peeked through the slats of the crib Killian had put together himself, they barely ever thought of all those broken pieces – the few that still lingered were familiar and softened by time, as ingrained into the foundation of who they were now as anything whole – instead, they chose to look ahead to where there was a happy beginning to a new story – and above all else, there was Hope.

#Captain Swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #omegaverse

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jazzistolkienfanfics · 4 years

Text

Breathing - Aragorn x reader (modern!AU)

hi! could you do prompt #53 with a female reader and aragorn? thank you!

@elvish-sky oh joy, another sad aragorn fic (jk jk). i wanted to write this one as a modern!AU because of some research i was doing before school ended for science and ... i just thought of the concept and liked it, okay hush

53. “You said you were okay!”

Type: Imagine Pairing: Aragorn x reader (modern!AU) Summary: Y/N hasn’t been entirely honest with her boyfriend, Aragorn. Warnings: angst, sadness, death, Word Count: 1,704 words

Y/N laughed loudly as the black Newfoundland puppy chased its fluffy tail, the dark fur sticking up as though it had been struck by lightning.

Aragorn grinned at her, taking yet another long moment to watch her - to savour everything about his beautiful girlfriend. Just like every time she giggled, he wanted the seconds to last forever. He wanted every day he got to be with Y/N to last forever, because one day, they would be unable to make new memories.

One day sooner than he would like.

He tugged the sleeves of his RSPCA volunteer jacket down as he sat by her side, whistling for the dog to come and sit by his side. It obliged, just as all the animals in the shelter, or anywhere, always did.

Animal whisperer, Y/N would tease him. Like Doctor Dolittle!

Aragorn looked to her again, the smile still on Y/N’s face. Flushed s/c cheeks. Hooded e/c eyes with heavy bags under them, yet she still looked beauty. H/l messy h/c hair, kept out of her face by a f/c ribbon.

Then, the things people tended to stare at. The bag by her side, much like the wheeled kind some people used to shop. The nose cannula hooked behind her ears, a long tube carrying oxygen from the bag. A surgery scar protruding from her f/c shirt’s neckline.

Those things didn’t bother him. He loved her.

“Are you okay?”

Aragorn blinked at Y/N’s question. Normally he was the one asking her that question, or supposed to be. “I-I’m perfect.”

She smiled again. “That’s good.”

He stood, pulling her to her feet as well. “Come on. My shift’s up.”

Y/N jokingly pouted. “But the puppies!”

This time, it was Aragorn who laughed. “We’ll come back next week, I promise.”

“Next week,” she echoed, a sadness in her voice that her boyfriend didn’t detect.

---

Y/N coughed, making a face as the last of her pills went down her throat. She took dozens every day - it was part of her necessary, pre-determined hospital routine.

Her nurse, Legolas, (A/N - stan male nurses) passed her some water, which she gladly swallowed, hacking again.

“Good job,” he grinned. “Everything’s doing okay. Lung function is at 54 percent, a little lower than last week, but it will get higher again.”

She’d definitely expected that, though her heart still sunk.

“I’ll let your boyfriend in now.” Legolas laughed at the annoyed look on his charge’s face. The sound faded as he took on a more serious tone. “But, you remember that it could get even worse anytime, especially-”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted, her voice scratched and broken. “I know.”

“Be careful,” the nurse reminded her again, as he left the room, Aragorn passing through the door before it could even swing shut.

“Going alright?”

Y/N grimaced. “As well as can be expected. I hate my lungs.”

He took her hand, squeezing it tightly, like he would never, could never, let go. “I know you’re strong, Y/N/N. You can’t let CF beat you.”

Ah, yes. There it was - the casual reminder Y/N couldn’t go a day without hearing. Stressing how she was holding her life in an hourglass, which was rapidly running out of time.

Cystic Fibrosis. An often terminal lung condition, meaning Y/N’s lungs functioned at low percentages, causing difficulty in her breathing and weakened immune system. She was often lucky to spend more than a month out of the hospital, thought that hadn’t been the case recently.

She’d been continually relapsing, her lung function decreasing with every checkup.

To put it simply, it sucked. Royally.

“Here,” Aragorn offered her her nose cannula. “Hook up, and I’ll distract you.”

Y/N slipped it on, taking his hand and dragging her portable oxygen in The Granny Shopping Bag™️ with the other. smiling.

Well, at least, her mask was smiling. Inside, she didn’t know if she had the energy or will to anymore.

---

Y/N knew it was a risk, and she was exactly aware of the million and one ways this could go wrong.

But she didn’t care. She was going to live whilst she still could. She was done with giving up her life, letting down her boyfriend, because of some stupid mucus.

Besides, he didn’t know. He didn’t know it all, and she wasn’t going to stop them from being unable to make happy memories together by burdening him with more bad news. Being the protective guy he was, Aragorn probably wouldn’t even let her leave the hospital if her found out.

“Ready?” said-boyfriend-in-question asked.

“Hell yeah,” Y/N grinned, straightening the edges of her denim jacket.

They stood at the archway entrance to the Rivendell National Park - a beautiful wonderland of pale trees and swirling leaves, in the deep of autumn.

Technically, Y/N wasn’t meant to engage in ‘prolonged physical activity’. But technically, she wasn’t even meant to be alive right now.

No one, least of all her, knew how much time she had left. Y/N wasn’t one to waste it.

Together, she and Aragorn stepped through the archway, and explored the ‘whole new realm’.

---

After ten minutes, her lungs were burning, but she didn’t say anything.

Aragorn was looking so happy - a goofy smily affixed upon his face, his dark eyes lighting up as he swished his head from side to side to admire everything with childish wonder.

The National Park was beautiful, but the air was thin, and Y/N was struggling not to audibly struggle. She hated being dependent on people, and she would. Not. Worry. Him.

Something felt different this time - her breathing was quickening even though she was walking extraordinarily slowly, and she was in more pain than she should’ve been

Y/N signalled for Aragorn to stop, doubling over and coughing until her throat was raw. She couldn’t breathe whilst the mucus was crawling up her airways, and she’d rather clear it than suffer.

“Get it out, Y/N,” Aragorn encouraged her as she straightened, worry sketched all over his face.

Her coughing was done, and she went to take a nice big inhale, but ....

She.

Still.

Couldn’t.

Breathe.

Breathing should’ve been something natural, easy, if she had been just a normal young woman with her normal boyfriend.

She wished that lying didn’t come to her easier than breathing.

Y/N collapsed, choking, almost about to pass out as Aragorn immediately fell to her side, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling an emergency number.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, his breaths coming shortly as well as he scooped her up into his arms. “Oh, God. Y-You’re going to be okay, Y/N.”

Funny how good they’d both become at lying.

With that thought, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, without the energy to keep themselves open.

“Y/N!”

---

Aragorn sat in the waiting room with a feeling like acid being poured down his throat and then regurgitated.

She shouldn’t have collapsed like that - it was highly medically improbable given what he knew about Y/N and her Cystic Fibrosis. Unless ... there was something he didn’t know.

He shook his head as soon as that thought came to him. He trusted Y/N. She trusted him. He had to have faith in her.

The sound of footsteps encouraged him to look sideways, where he saw Y/N’s nurse, Legolas, with four cups of coffee in his arms.

“Expecting someone else?” Aragorn laughed as he was handed one of the cups.

“Oh, no,” Legolas replied, with an unbelievably straight face. “I intend to drink all the coffee.”

“How is Y/N?”

The nurse winced. “I will be honest with you - she isn’t going so well right now. The fact that she was still walking with you ... that’s pretty amazing given her lung function and diagnosis.”

“What do you mean?” Aragorn furrowed his eyebrows. “She-she’s fine, isn’t she?”

Legolas stared. “Y/N didn’t tell you, did she? Oh, that stubborn little-”

“Tell me what?”

He averted Aragorn’s eyes. “Tell you that she was diagnosed with Burkholderia Cepacia and she was given another six months to live with her current lung function.”

“What?” All the air rushed out of his lungs, and suddenly, he knew how Y/N felt when it was hard for her to breathe. “H-How long has it been?”

Again, the blond looked awkwardly to the floor.

“How long?!” It was a shout this time, and Aragorn could feel himself on the brink of tears. His beautiful girlfriend, lost to the void ... he could not cope with it.

“Seven months.”

He fell back in his chair, coffee discarded, his shaking hands covering his face as his cheeks dripped with tears. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

A doctor rushed out from the ER, making a beeline for Legolas. Her nametag read ‘Tauriel’, her long red hair flying behind her as she ran towards them.

Her face was sober.

“He-he should come. Now.” She motioned towards Aragorn who stood immediately.

“Is Y/N alright?”

Dr. Tauriel did not answer his question, just motioning for him to follow her.

---

Y/N wasn’t moving. For such a joyful young woman, she was lying unbelievably still.

There was a crowd of doctors around her, but they all moved back at the sight of Aragorn.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know who said it ... all he could think about was how much paler Y/N looked than her normal s/c.

“She-she’s just a-asleep, r-right?” Aragorn stuttered on the words as more tears fell down his face. “Y/N’s o-okay?”

Dr. Tauriel shook her head. “I’m so sorry. We-we couldn’t do anything.”

“You said you were okay!” Aragorn cried, talking to Y/N even though she couldn’t hear him - would never hear him again. Jut like he would never hear her. “You told me you were okay ...”

“Get him out of here,” someone said quietly, and Aragorn was pulled to the door.

He threw one final look over his shoulder.

Y/N’s hair was spread out over the pillow. Her hands had been folded over her chest. She still had her nose cannula in, but that had never made her less beautiful.

Even in death, she still looked like an angel.

She was still the most beautiful person Aragorn had ever known.

A/N - guys this is my new favourite fic so please spread it! @elvish-sky thank you so much for this request, and everyone, thank you for reading!

#aragorn #modern!aragorn #modern!au #au #lotr au #lord of the rings #lotr #lotr x reader #aragorn x reader #x reader #modern!aragorn x reader #you

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jeongyunhoed · 3 years

Photo

Past-Present-Future Black Dahlia

Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.

Group: ATEEZ Member: Yunho Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy

Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons, some jealousy (but no cheating ofc), implied smut (not sure if there is any but i’m putting it out there nonetheless), mental illness (probably?), gambling and alcohol

Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.

Author’s Note: So... I didn’t expect this would happen for some reason? But it’s interesting how things unfold when you just wing it. Anyway, more reveals ahead a.k.a Yeosang reveals what more he can do and not just suck the life out of people/mutants.

Masterlist

Chapter 6

Loud yelps of pain echoed what looked like a ballroom found within the abandoned school that Ten created. Jongin was seated on top of an operating table, his injured leg that had a gaping wound was being tended to by another male, wearing a suit. Dr. Lucas Wong, another telepath that also had extensive medical knowledge. “She tore through your muscle and the tendons, this might take a while to repair, the tissue damage is extreme and even if it did, there will be some discrepancy in the weight distribution when you walk,,” Lucas muttered as he wiped the rest of the antiseptic over the wound.

“Yeah, she did,” Jongin bit his lip to stifle the groans leaving his mouth in pain. “Even threatened to wipe out my entire family while she did it. She’s got quite a grip.”

“I’m surprised she didn’t do the same to you, hyung,” Lucas glanced at Baekhyun, who had a brace on his neck.

“Yeah well, I thought she needed to know who was making her suffer. I don’t regret it one bit of course,” Baekhyun frowned, sitting back against the red chintz chair.

“And now you’ve turned her loose against us when we should be convincing her to join our cause,” Mark said. “You chose to pursue your vendetta over the greater goal that we plan to achieve, and from the looks of this, it seems like Ino has already let it slip that you and Jongin tampered with their Danger Room. We aren’t the enemy, the non-mutants are.”

Baekhyun fell silent. “To be fair, it was fun helping them out in their plans, it gave me something to do,” Taeyong spoke, his feet up on the table that had Lucas’s medical journals, making the doctor swat his feet away while he dressed the teleporter’s wounds. “I think she also turned Yeosang away from the venture though.”

“See?” Mark sighed in frustration. “We need her and Yeosang. Yeosang wields significant influence, granted that he practically owns the entirety of Seoul. With Mirae, it’s going to give the venture the added muscle.”

“You mean she’ll be our enforcer,” Jongin chimed in.

“In a way. If people have a problem, we can convince her to take care of it. She’s got a lot of skills, skills that must be utilized. She’s let herself go ever since she got rid of the Utopian cult,” Mark explained.

A portal soon appeared in the middle of the room and Ten stepped out of it. “She’s here. And she’s pissed, and at the same time sad,” He said. He glanced at Baekhyun. “You should’ve kept the ruse going, hothead.”

“She blew up my house though,” Taeyong pointed out.

“You’ve got the money, you can build a new one,” Lucas muttered, dressing Jongin’s wound. “Taemin’s still not done from his meetings, is he?”

“Nope. But I already told him what happened. He should be here in an hour? Two hours tops,” Taeyong replied. “He’s not going to be happy.”

“Damn right I’m not.”

Taemin had appeared by the door, looking evidently pissed off. He slammed his jacket down on the nearby desk along with his briefcase. “Didn’t even give me some time to get my stuff before she blew the place up.”

Lee Taemin was also a telepath like Mark and Taeyong, but his main powers were mostly being able to mimic or augment a mutant’s powers. If Taemin were near an omega-level mutant, he could only mimic but not surpass their abilities completely. Unlike his younger brother Taeyong, who could turn into a diamond form to shield his mind from other telepaths, Taemin’s was naturally present, and he often used it to hide from other psychics. If there were even other psychics apart from them.

Ten put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. I placed her in one of the rooms of this whole...estate. If I were to go to her now, she would hear everything you are all saying. We wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened in the mansion now would we?”

“So what’s our next move?” Taemin asked.

“We call on Ino, ask him regarding what to do about Mirae, and then maybe approach a few willing politicians. I heard not everyone remained arrested after that encounter with Chun Doohwan’s adviser,” Mark explained. “Some are desperate to make a comeback in the political scene. Even after they were exposed.”

“How are you framing that? I’m not so sure people in this country are keen to forget something like what they did,” Taemin questioned. “Actually, people in this country don’t forget nor do they forgive unless they’re like us.”

“You could say the same with everyone everywhere, it’s just that we feel it more here,” Taeyong argued. “Then again, it’s not like they know who we are.”

“Exactly. We should take advantage of the flaws of this society. We’re the superior race, and they will know about their inferiority soon enough,” Mark said.

It was making Jongin think. “Since that could take some time, I wonder what we plan on doing with Mirae? Are we just keeping her here? Clueless? You forget, you can’t read her mind.”

“You don’t need to read a mind like hers to know what to do with her, silly,” Ten smirked. “All I can say is that all of you better watch your backs with her. A person who is grieving over the loss of the people closest to her will not think straight, but a person like her who is grieving over losing three people she holds dear? I wouldn’t be surprised if she does turn around and wipe out your entire lineage. She almost did that with you, didn’t she?” He turned to Jongin.

“How can she do that while she’s over here?” Jongin raised a brow, until he figured out what Ten really meant. “...You wouldn’t.”

“She’s got every reason to hate each and every one of us now that she knows you were all behind the deaths of her friends. With the shield in her mind, no telepath can control her,” Ten pointed out. “Of course, she doesn’t know my affiliation with the rest of you so she may leave me out of this.”

“Bring it on, then,” Baekhyun said.

“Really? You’d really take that risk? I could tell her where your families and loved ones are right now and you can watch them go bye-bye at her hands,” Ten looked satisfied seeing the older male get uncomfortable.

“I’m already dead to my family, what makes you think I still care?”

“Enough, Chittaphon,” Taemin rolled his eyes. “We get it. The only one she can’t kill in here is Mark, but even his own life isn’t certain. We need to control her somehow. We’re not the enemy. The non-mutants are.”

“There is a way,” Baekhyun raised a brow. “Choi San and Jeong Yunho. I’ve been thinking of making my next move towards them. Make Mirae really alone.”

“How much longer do we have until we get there? How do we even get there?” San looked over at Junhong. They were still driving down the road that seemed to lead to the city proper with Yeosang’s help. There was a kind of uncertain quality about the city, as if it was part of a certain time yet had modern technology. The people living in the city were wearing different variations of the hanbok, styled in either coordinates or as dresses and suits.

“It won’t be long,” Yeosang replied from his seat, making all of them look out the windows. “One kilometer more and we’ll be able to find her, or them, or both.”

“We don’t have much time, unless Yunho can teleport us even at this time, by the time we get to her, she’ll have probably made up her mind,” San said.

“When I was at those ruins, what I saw gave me chills,” Wooyoung said quietly. “It’s as if all I could feel from that place was rage and sadness. Junhong, both Hyuk and Chanyeol meant so much to her, didn’t they?”

“Oh yeah they do. If they survived the explosion, you can imagine we’d get things done faster,” Junhong glanced over at them.

Yeosang sighed. “Oh well, here goes nothing,” He closed his eyes and muttered a few words, making others look over at him.

A flock of seagulls was flying out of the way of the van, making all of them whip around to look out the window. Their surroundings changed. They were no longer in the city proper, but they were at a dreary-looking street and at the end of the street was the gates of the school. “...Yunho?” Hongjoong glanced at the taller.

“It’s not me,” Yunho looked just as surprised.

Yeosang shook his head. “Well that spell was rusty,” He muttered.

“Spell? What do you mean by spell?...You can do magic?” Mingi stared at him.

“It’s a gift I try not to use very often. It takes the fun out of everything,” Yeosang casually replied. “I must confess I fear I might be losing my touch with it.”

San grabbed him by the collar. “You mean to say you could’ve brought us there without having to travel?!” He couldn’t help but yell.

“In my defense I didn’t do that when I came to the rest of you,” Yeosang yanked his hand off his collar and straightened himself up.

“You better figure out which side you’re on because it seems to me that you’re buying them some time,” Hongjoong shot at him.

“Give me a reason not to kill you right now,” Yunho suddenly looked over at him. “You could’ve saved us the time.”

“Whenever I use magic, I will need to feed. It uses up my energy and turns me into a ghostly hag,” Yeosang held up his hand, his skin becoming translucent, revealing the veins that were becoming more and more visible.

“You are an old hag,” San pointed out.

“Regardless, the more I use, the hungrier I will get. I don’t think any of you would be willing to give your lives to me, and thus control is needed. It’s one of the downsides of my abilities. That and, I tend to absorb the memories of those I kill,” Yeosang said quietly.

“In that case, you’ve now got a reason to feed,” Hongjoong said as Junhong pulled the brakes.

“All of you have your weapons, I can stay behind and wait. There are communicators with you, so you should be able to talk to me and each other in case you split up,” Junhong turned to them. “Good luck. Get Mirae back.”

“We will,” San nodded and the rest of them got down.

The eight of them faced the massive gates of the estate. “Do we climb over or do we break in?” Seonghwa asked, an idea immediately coming to mind. His eyes and fingertips glowed green, the chains locking the gate coming apart, opening the gate in front of them.

“I’m here to remind you that we’ll be dealing with a few telepaths and teleporters. Be careful,” Yeosang said as they walked inside, a cold gust of wind hitting them. “As much as it pains me to say it, San is our best bet to get to Mirae. I’m sure they already know of his relation to my dear, as much as they already know who Yunho is in her life.”

“So we need to watch Yunho and San, is that it?” Hongjoong deduced.

“Precisely,” Yeosang replied, only to duck out of the way when he felt something strike him. It was an axe, Mingi’s axe, and the taller male himself was attempting to strike him.

“Mingi!” San tried to stop him, but he wasn’t answering and instead tried to strike towards everyone else, making them take out their weapons. Mingi seemed to be in a trance.

“Mingi!” Hongjoong sped around the taller male. “He’s- What’s happened to him?!” He dodged a shuriken that was thrown his way. Wooyoung and San had joined in the fray.

Yunho dodged his strikes with an axe, only to run out of the way when he saw Jongho charge towards him. “Oh no, Jongho!” He yelled, avoiding the spikes that were protruding from his arms and legs. Jongho was also in a trance.

Yeosang took out the concealed sword from his walking stick and knocked Jongho out of the way. “They seem to be under a spell- They know we’re here,” He said, realizing the situation. “One of them’s controlling Mingi and Jongho, or should I say two- Mark!”

A portal opened from one side of the grounds and out stepped Mark himself, followed by Lucas. “I thought as much, Yeosang!” The immortal said.

“Can’t get your hands dirty?” Yeosang cast a spell only for it to hit Lucas instead as he saw Taemin step out from the same portal and Ten.

“Why would I need to?” Mark scoffed.

“We’re not the enemy,” Taemin said, his eyes and fingertips glowing the same green glow as Seonghwa who was already trying to redirect the shurikens and axes that Mingi was throwing while also dodging Jongho’s kicks and punches. He disarmed their weapons, throwing them to the side.

“Where is Mirae?” San asked.

“She’s safe, somewhere in there. But I’m sorry to say that you can’t get to her,” Ten replied. “We need her.”

“And we need her,” Yunho stared at them. “We’re not joining you and your Project Apocalypse and neither should Mirae.”

“Ah, Yeosang told you. I guessed as much, he’s turning into a literal vampire before our eyes too,” Mark gestured to the immortal, whose skin was becoming even more translucent, his eyes turning icy blue in color. “You might as well show them how you actually look after all of that magic, you know.”

“Still sore about Julia the Elder choosing me over you after all,” He said.

“We’re not the enemy as you all seem to believe. Mutants are the inheritors of this earth, we’re all on the same side here,” Lucas reasoned.

“Oh really? Then why is Mirae being kept?” Hongjoong questioned. “You’ve got her, we want her.”

“You’ll have to get through us first, then,” Mark said.

“No problem,” Hongjoong said, before speeding past Lucas and Taemin, knocking them off their feet.

Mark took out a swiss army knife from his pocket and shook his head. “Care to duel, Yeosang? To the death as it seems,” He said.

“I’d want to stick around more, no thanks,” Yeosang sent a hex towards him, sending him to the end of the field, almost knocking into the pillar. Wooyoung transformed into his shadow form, slithering across the ground and capturing Ten, nearly getting sucked into the portal he was trying to create.

Mingi took out his lighter, sending blasts of flames towards Mark who reappeared, making him fall over, covering his face in pain. “Chanyeol taught me that,” He grinned.

Mirae looked out the window from the room Ten placed her in. She was getting restless. She wanted to know where Baekhyun and Jongin were, and possibly kill them when she found them. The room she was kept in gave off the impression that it was once among the opulently decorated rooms in the school, perhaps a room of a teacher or school head.

“Mirae.”

She turned around upon hearing the familiar voice. It was Ino. “So now you’re here.”

“I am, and I don’t blame you for what you did to me-”

Her eyes and fingertips glowed and she reached into her pocket for her deck of cards. “What makes you think I’m sorry for what I did to you? You deserved it as much,” She hissed.

“Baekhyun, Jongin, their entire group has a cause worth fighting for.”

“And Hyuk and Chanyeol are collateral damage, is that it?” Mirae flung a charged card towards the older male, only for it to explode through him. “Baekhyun killed them, and he killed Jihoon too. And you let it happen.”

“Their deaths were a price to pay!” Ino tried to reason, dodging all the cards being thrown at him.

“They never deserved that! And you know it!” Mirae yelled and a shockwave of energy suddenly reverberated around the room, causing cracks in the windows and walls. Ino saw his face had traces of burns caused by the shockwave. “They never deserved to die!” She yelled again, sending another shockwave that made the furniture burn and disintegrate and Ino felt more burns on his skin.

“You’re becoming stronger, Mirae,” Ino realized as the burns on him were healing. “Remember what Junhong said to you-”

More shockwaves of energy reverberated around the room, the ceiling and the walls already on the verge of collapsing. “All this time I was living with guilt thinking that I was responsible for it, when it’s you- You let everything happen!” She shouted, another shockwave making everything collapse and fly outwards.

“It was the price to pay for Project Apocalypse, Mirae!” Ino tried to reason again, even if he knew it was inevitably futile. “There are people willing to die for causes greater than themselves. It’s time mutants had considerable influence in the world, we have a right to live in this world just as much as everyone else does. Out from the shadows, no longer hiding.”

“What makes you think I was hiding? What makes you think Hyuk and Chanyeol were hiding? Jihoon wasn’t even a mutant yet he was killed!” Mirae threw another card at him followed by another, the second card ricocheting off the column as it exploded, knocking it over.

Ino looked up and everything that was about to crumble down froze in mid-air. Baekhyun and a limping Jongin appeared, followed by Taeyong. Baekhyun released a beam of light towards her face, making her fall over, covering her eyes. Taeyong transformed into his diamond form and charged towards her, Mirae knocking him over before he could strike.

“You don’t even bother to see that your friends are out there right now,” Baekhyun tried to blast another beam of light towards her. “San and Yunho, did you really care for them?” He taunted, only to gape when the beam of light hit the staff she had extended, the energy coming from her being redirected towards him and sending him flying towards the other side, Jongin teleporting in time to catch him.

The whole school burned down into ashes and shockwaves reverberated all throughout the grounds, making everyone in the midst of their fights fall over on the ground from the impact. Taeyong, Jongin and Baekhyun appeared close to the rubble as Mirae emerged from the ashes. Ino had also reappeared, the burns on his hands and face healing.

Yunho got up upon seeing Mirae and he ran up to her. “Mirae! Mirae!” He called out, only to get pushed inside a portal.

“Yunho?” The glow in her eyes faded. “Yunho!” She called out, running towards the portal only for it to close, making her stumble and fall over. Mirae looked over, her eyes scanning the ground for San and getting back on her feet. “San!” She called out.

“Mirae!” San got back up on his feet only to get pushed inside another portal that closed before Seonghwa could keep him out.

“San! San!” She yelled, staring at the spot where San disappeared. Mirae glanced at Ten, who was still within the grip of Wooyoung’s shadow form. “Wooyoung, get out of the way,” She said, her eyes glowing red.

“Project Apocalypse must go online without any interruptions,” Ino said.

“Wooyoung,” Mirae looked over at the shadow form still wrapped around the male. “Get out of the way.”

The shadow seemed to slither away from Ten, transforming back into Wooyoung as Mirae’s staff began to glow the same red glow from her eyes and fingertips. “If you kill me, you won’t know where Yunho and San are,” Ten pointed out. “If you join us, Project Apocalypse, you will have them back, unharmed, not possessed or crazy that’s for sure. If you refuse, let’s just say you will have lost two more people you care so much about. In such a short span of time too.”

“Don’t join them, Mirae,” Hongjoong called out. “Yunho and San wouldn’t want you to join them either.”

“There’s nothing but pain for you if you join them,” Wooyoung chimed in. “It’s not going to end. It’ll only get worse.”

“If you can’t command, you must obey,” Baekhyun said quietly.

The words made Mirae look over at him and she struck her staff into the ground leading up to where he was standing, the shockwave sending the rest of them flying back in different directions. “How dare you control me,” Mirae muttered, the glow in her eyes becoming brighter than ever.

“Mirae don’t join them!” Seonghwa called out, the green glow in his eyes and fingertips.

She ran up to Baekhyun and before he could get away, she struck her staff in the ground again, the impact making him stumble and fall. Mirae grabbed him by the collar. “Could you really kill me, Lee Mirae?” He said. “One of the last in our group, the sentimental value of it all is enticing isn’t it? You don’t have it in you to kill me. You keep searching for a face to blame for all your grievances, when that face is staring right back at you in the mirror.”

Baekhyun’s satisfied expression soon turned into horror when Mirae’s eyes turned black. “You really are a monster,” He said, before disappearing.

Mirae looked back at the group where a portal had opened. “Ino.”

“Baekhyun is part of Project Apocalypse. It is about to go online in a matter of hours,” Ino explained. “Make your choice, Mirae. If you want to see Yunho and San again, if you want to find them unharmed, you will make the right choice.”

Mark, Taemin, Lucas, and Taeyong had entered the portal. Mirae closed her eyes. She could hear Yunho calling out to her. Somehow, she had relayed what was happening to Yunho, who was now also aware of what was going on.

I’m here in this kind of wild west village

There’s so many crows, a murder of crows.

It’s deserted

Mirae, don’t join them, just find me, I’ll tell you where to go

San won’t want you joining them either, and Wooyoung will know what’s going to happen if you do

Don’t join them

She kept hearing him. Mirae opened her eyes. “Keep your word and I will consider.”

“I’ve kept my word that I took you to the place where you will find your revenge, didn’t I?” Ten replied, seeing Jongin limp inside the portal. “You can trust me.”

“Trust, that’s a word that I haven’t heard in a while,” Mirae struck the other end of her staff on the ground towards him, making him fall inside the portal. She turned to Ino.

“You will regret that decision,” He said.

“And you will regret the day you allowed everything to happen,” Mirae stared at him, a wave of energy hitting the elder once more, burning his face. As Ino fell over on the ground, he disappeared.

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goldenkookietae · 4 years

Text

The Book Fortress Tumbles

BTS One shot

Pairing: Boyfriend!Taehyung x reader

Word count: 3,643 words

Warnings: Smut, strong language, sir!kink, dom!tae, teeny tiny bit of angst

Summary: Your exams are starting soon and you’re beyond stressed. You’re trying not to let that show but it all comes bursting out when your boyfriend Taehyung tries to get you to relax. When you realise your mistake, the only thing you can do, is apologise to him. Just not with words.

A/N: My college just announced that our exams will be held starting from 18th September. That’s too less time to mug up the entirety of the semester syllabus. Sigh. This one shot is reflecting my current situation (minus a Taehyung and dedication towards exams). I accidentally posted this when it was half finished lol, I panicked all the time I was taking it down xD.

Disclaimer: This story is an AU fanfiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.

Do not plagiarize my work and do not repost.

Moodboard

*I do not claim ownership over any of the pictures. They are credited to their original owners.

“Y/N~” Taehyung sang, skipping up to the study table, a pile of books hiding the person behind from view.

A faint “yes” was whispered softly from behind the walls of what seemed like a book fortress. Taehyung knew that the queen in this fort had probably not even looked up from her current preoccupation.

But somehow, as the “boyfriend”, he had a few special privileges. Somehow he could pull her to cuddle with him when she had an exam the day next, somehow he could wake her up in the middle of the night and still get her to cook for him, somehow he could steal her ice cream after having his and get her to find him rather cute.

Okay, maybe the last two aren’t true. Those are the things I’d do for her. He thought. Either way, whatever the consequences might be, he felt deprived, almost jealous of bound pages and thick covers.

She had told him a month before, on a day that Taehyung now marked as a blue day in his life, that her exams were coming up and that she’d have to focus on her studies. That she’d have to give her attention to her text books instead of her handsome boyfriend. And the second her exams would be done, they could do whatever he pleased.

Oh, the many many things Taehyung had in mind for everything that pleased him. On top of the list was her name in bold, underlined, Y/N. Y/N had been scanning her books so intently throughout this whole month, it seemed as though she was studying the instructions to defuse a bomb that was seconds from exploding. He hardly saw her around the house, only between the times she came outside to refill her snack jar or water bottle or for her meals. It got to the point where she hadn’t even realised that Taehyung had shifted to her apartment and had been staying with her throughout.

It was funny because they’d share the same bed and wake up inside a warm blanket burrito. Even if she had realised, she hadn’t said a word and Taehyung was more than happy with that. Staying back at his place while she was like this was close to being on an entirely different planet with no forms of communication.

He had picked up a lot of hobbies to distract himself, he played more video games, ate a lot of food, tried cooking (which surprisingly went okay), cleaned her house to make sure she was always comfortable and sometimes worked overtime because everything else was simply boring. But at times when she hadn’t noticed he’d pursue another wonderful hobby. Since Y/N wasn’t really bothered about what Taehyung was up to, he unashamedly spent his time staring at her. She wasn’t even dressed to impress these days, putting on the first thing she reached in her cupboard before sitting down to study.

But she loved being comfortable. And Taehyung noticed how she’d always pick the shortest shorts she had, ones that barely covered the globe of her ass. He would’ve loved those clothes on her every damn day, only if he wasn’t restricted to staying a mile away so she could ‘focus’ and almost suffering from blue balls.

“Y/N~” he whined yet again, choosing to cross over to other side of the fort and poking the bookworm. His plan for the night was to at least get some attention. He had been deprived of it for more than a month, it had reached the point where he would be in an existential crisis from lack of affection.

He would respect all her restrictions, he was being so good at keeping his carnal desires at bay (even if his hand was no match), he hadn’t complained when she finished her food early and left him alone to eat his portion, and definitely didn’t bother her for falling asleep on top of her books. He somehow felt proud of being that boyfriend, the one who’d bring her meals and would carry her back to bed when she’d fallen asleep.

But he just hoped that this, whatever it was, probably a test from the gods, would soon come to an end. And that Y/N would then jump onto his lap and kiss the living daylights out of him to tell him that he passed with flying colours.

All he wanted was a little bit of cuddling that night. The exams were still a week away and she could spare that much for him, couldn’t she?

He poked her again. One last time. And when that earned him nothing more but hummed ‘yes’, he knew it had come down to war. He extended his hands to her waist, caressing the soft flesh before taking on a different turn.

“Taehyungie! Stop!” Y/N hollered, jerking so suddenly that the central defense of her fort broke and tumbled to the ground in all the glory of crumpled and dog eared pages.

All that didn’t bother Taehyung as he tickled her sides, not caring about the curses leaving her mouth at that instant. If he paid any attention, then it would definitely turn him hard.

He picked her up effortlessly, carrying her over to the bed and placing her down. He climbed on top of her slowly, licking his lips as his face leveled with hers.

“Let’s just cuddle for tonight Y/N. You’ve been overworking yourself and it’s okay to take some time off to relieve stress. Relax for today, okay?” Taehyung muttered soothingly, rubbing her arms to warm her skin.

“Or maybe we can do something else to relieve your stress?” He chuckled trying to lighten the passive expression on Y/N’s face but it only made it more poignant. Before he could say anything else, the anxiety all came onto Y/N at once, making her snap.

“Taehyung stop! This is not a joke. My entire career depends on these exams and you’re treating it like a joke! Stop it!” Y/N exclaimed and Taehyung went still.

He knew she didn’t mean that and she knew that her career was as important to Taehyung as it was to her. He was looking out for her simply. She knew this too.

Sighing, Taehyung slid off her and stood next to the bed.

“Your career is important Y/N, I know that. It is to me too. But you’re taking too much pressure. You need a stress buster once in a while. Maybe this was not the best way and I’m sorry about that but maybe we can watch a movie tonight or-” Taehyung kept thinking of more things but Y/N cut him off.

“No. I am not under pressure. I do not need a stress buster. All I need to do is study and revise like I was already doing.” Y/N said as she looked at Taehyung pointedly, before sliding off the bed and sitting down at her desk.

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything.” Taehyung gulped. When she didn’t respond, he sighed and left the room as quietly as he could.

Y/N felt bad. When Taehyung had jumped onto her, all her focus flew out of her mind and she finally realised why she had been fidgety all week. Even when Taehyung had offered it to her on a silver platter, she’d refused like a total idiot and was now facing the consequences. From the corner of her eyes, she watched Taehyung through the slightly open door of her room. She could see him laying on the couch, his long legs spread out before him invitingly, his tongue sticking out and jaw flexing as he concentrated on playing the game.

As her eyes slid down, she focused on his hands, his long fingers working the joystick easily, the veins on his arms straining against his skin. Oh, she knew very well what all she wanted him to work with those fingers. The thought made her close her eyes and bite her lip, and she mindlessly clenched her thighs together.

She considered walking up to him right then, but the thought of coming back to him after she’d sent him away so strongly seemed too embarrassing. If that were to happen, Taehyung would never let go of the incident and would tease her about it forever.

In a desperate attempt to calm herself, she turned back to her books, revising topics again and again but still feeling as though she was reading them for the first time ever. Her eyes slid over to her water bottle as she recited the words she’d just read to herself again.

Tae’s thicker than that. She thought looking over the bottle and imagining a different view in front of her.

“What are you doing, you idiot?” she whispered, realising that her hands were now around the bottle, and she was fisting it with a well known need. Sighing she stood up, knowing she had no choice.

She slipped out of her room, trying not to close the door too hard. Walking straight to her boyfriend, she stood in front of the TV, blocking his view while facing him.

Taehyung looked up at her in confusion, and frowned when the sound of his avatar dying echoed behind her. But as soon as Y/N slid to her knees before him, his lips twisted into a smirk. In a second he threw the joystick in his hand to the side and leaned back into the couch making himself comfortable and pushing his legs closer towards her.

When Y/N bit her lip and stared at him hungrily, he raised an eyebrow.

You just gonna sit there or do something? I’m waiting.

It was so easy to understand everything about him after they’d been together for so long and she didn’t want to disappoint him now. Quickly, her hands unbuttoned his skin tight jeans and unzipped them, while Taehyung simply snuggled deeper into the couch as though waiting for a show about to go down.

Well, something was going down alright. That thing being Y/N.

She struggled to pull off the jeans, huffing every time her strength wasn’t enough, and Taehyung made no effort to help her out. Normally, Taehyung would be praising her throughout, but at the moment her only reward was the delicious view of his thick thighs.

Without wasting a second, Y/N pulled his boxer briefs down to his knees, then to his ankles and her face narrowly missed getting hit by his cock. After more than a month of sexual frustration, her mouth drooled as she laid eyes on his thick, huge cock, veins straining against the length as it stood hard and proud. She was a fool, comparing a stupid water bottle to the masterpiece in front of her.

He was already hard, and Y/N thought he must have been for quite some time through the evening. She’d done that. And she must be the one to fix it.

“Go on darling, suck me off.” Taehyung murmured bringing his fingers to her chin for a moment, tilting her face up and then letting go.

“Yes, sir.” Y/N whispered before taking him into her mouth fully, too hasty and needy to tease him at that point. She flattened her tongue against the smooth skin of his cock, lathering it with her saliva and tasting the salty tang of his precum. As her mouth grew full, she took him as far as she could go, stopping before her gag reflex could hit her and then looking up at Taehyung.

“Fuck. You’re going to kill me with those eyes.” Taehyung grunted, biting his lip harshly and never taking his eyes off Y/N. The sight of her kneeling before him, her mouth full of his cock and her pretty eyes looking at him so innocently - it was too much. His hand raised above his head, gripping the top edge of the couch for support as his jaw slacked and eyes closed.

As he prepared to relax, his eyes snapped open when Y/N picked up speed suddenly and sucked him faster, bobbing her head up and down his length, using her hands to jerk him where she couldn’t take him into her mouth. His eyes threatened to close as hot pleasure shot through him, but he managed to keep them open and fixed them onto Y/N’s eyes. While she sucked him off, he could see the way her hands slid down her body, no doubt seeking for her own pleasure.

But Taehyung was having none of that.

“The only place your hands are allowed to be are on my cock. Understood babygirl?” He glared, and he was surprised that he managed to keep the tremble out of his voice.

Y/N let out something between a whine and a hum, making Taehyung’s eyes roll back into his head. Nevertheless, he felt her figure move and he knew she’d obeyed him.

Straining his eyes to open, he saw her holding her hands behind her back and sucking his cock like her life depended on it. He shifted his hand from his side to her hair, gripping the roots above her neck and momentarily pulling her off of his throbbing member.

“Use your words girl.” He growled, clutching onto her hair tighter and bringing her closer so the head of his cock touched her lips. Y/N let out a soft sigh at the pain, enjoying it more than she should.

“Yes, sir.” she gulped, and immediately Taehyung pushed her back onto him, using the grip on her hair to guide her downward till her nose brushed his skin. Y/N gagged and swallowed, and the sensation made Taehyung’s thighs clench in pleasure.

Y/N didn’t miss that, she kept swallowing and moaning, the soft vibrations of her mouth against his cock, making him climb higher and higher to the edge of his release. And when Taehyung felt her soft hands shift from behind her to massage his balls, his hips jerked and he knew he was close. With three long thrusts into her pretty mouth, Taehyung came with a loud grunt, shooting strings of white hot cum into Y/N’s mouth which she swallowed hungrily.

Taehyung laid there for a few minutes, taking deep breaths to normalise his thundering heart. He peeked open an eye to look at Y/N and groaned when he saw her sitting on her knees with her hands on her lap. So obedient.

He leaned forward and held her chin with his hands, tilting up her face and bringing it close to his. His cum glistened on her lips and the thin layer of sweat on her forehead made it look like her skin was glowing.

“That was a very nice apology, babygirl.” He cooed, pecking Y/N’s lips softly. With his thumb, he scooped up a drop of his cum that had dripped onto her chin and pushed it into her mouth, immediately feeling her tongue swirl around his finger.

“And that is forgiveness.” He muttered, cupping her neck and pressing his lips to hers, swiping his tongue against the soft flesh and tasting himself. For Taehyung, it had all been a plan to get attention, and he got more than he had asked for, but if Y/N couldn’t get her release then there was no point.

Y/N felt Taehyung’s hands slowly slide down her skin, coming to rest at her hips where he held her tight. As she deepened the kiss and pushed her tongue into his mouth, he pulled her up and placed her onto his thighs, his cock slipping against the thin material of her shorts.

Her mouth tipped open against his, and she pressed herself onto him, grinding up and down while Taehyung nipped at her skin. When Taehyung cupped her between her thighs she let out a strangled gasp. The sound had woken something primal in Taehyung and he growled against her skin, biting down on the skin above her breast.

It had been so long since they’d done anything together, so long since Y/N had touched herself, that she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long. Taehyung would get his hands on her clit and she’d fall apart and that’s exactly what she needed. More than she had imagined.

Stripping off their clothes was a hasty blur, their mouths never leaving each other’s skin, kissing, nipping, biting, licking and sucking. Taehyung’s hands slid down to Y/N’s now bare heat, groaning at how slick and wet Y/N was.

“You didn’t want to say no to me, did you babygirl? Look at how wet you are.” He murmured, pressing and circling his thumb on her clit making her whimper. She whimpered helplessly when he pushed one long finger into her making her cling to him for support. When his finger curled inside her, she felt a familiar knot of pleasure and she blushed, embarrassed that she was going to come as fast as the time she’d lost her virginity. Too damn fast. She hid her face in the crook of Taehyung’s shoulder, biting down on the tanned skin as his fingers pushed her towards the edge relentlessly.

As Taehyung continued finger fucking her, his mouth was occupied with her breasts, sucking them and littering the skin with deep purple marks.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Cum on my fingers. Fuck.” He rasped, his teeth pulling at her pebbled nipple and Y/N came all over his fingers, letting out a loud cry and clutching tighter onto his shoulders.

Y/N relaxed against Taehyung’s shoulders, sucking deep breaths to compensate for all the breath Taehyung had knocked out of her with his talented fingers. Taehyung kept his eyes on her heat, pulling his fingers out of her and dragging his tongue over them with a loud a moan.

“So sweet. I missed this.” Taehyung said softly, his eyes closing to savour her taste on his tongue, licking his fingers in a manner to leave no drop untasted.

Just when Y/N had opened her mouth to speak, she jolted in surprise when Taehyung’s cock slid into her, stretching her walls as he reached all the way till he bottomed out. His eyes slowly turned to her, hooded with lust and a glint in his eye that she knew all too well.

This is payback for surprising me earlier.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re squeezing me.” Taehyung groaned, and Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut. She couldn’t comprehend words at that moment, her tongue tied with being sensitive and the way Taehyung was rocking his hips into hers.

“You’re still on birth control right?” Taheyung asked through gritted teeth, struggling to pause his movements before his mind spiraled out of control.

“Yes, just please, Tae-” Y/N whined, unable to finish her sentence as Taehyung pulled out and thrust into her. Sitting flush on his lap, Y/N could feel the length of his cock reach into her deeper than ever. With the little energy she had, she raised her hips and pushed herself back onto him at the exact moment that Taehyung thrust upwards.

“Tae!” she moaned, biting her lip so hard she drew blood, a hand coming up to squeeze her breast as the other clutched onto Taehyung’s thigh to make sure she wouldn’t fall off. Taehyung didn’t give her a second to breathe, setting a rhythm, driving deeper and harder into her each time. She knew it was all the built up tension over a month of inactivity and she wasn’t complaining even when her body shook with over stimulation.

Y/N eventually leaned into him, letting him guide her the way he wanted and she loved it. Gripping the soft flesh of her ass he made her ride him, driving her up and down on his cock and getting high on the sounds of their skins slapping together and the way Y/N’s tits bounced right in front of his face.

Despite her usual vocal self, Y/N felt her voice disappear, every word she tried to form dispersing into mewls and whimpers.

Touch me there. She tried to tell him, a moan and a curse leaving her mouth instead, making her frustrated with the building tension. She moved her hand in search of Taehyung’s, sighing almost immediately when his fingers were on her on her clit, rubbing and pinching the bundle of nerves.

Y/N’s orgasm crashed through her with high pitched moan, shattering any coherent sense left in her and numbing her senses where the only thing she felt was the hot seed that Taehyung had shot inside her, his groans muffled by the heavy daze of her mind. It was too much to handle.

“We’re out of practise.” She managed to whisper finally, her voice hoarse and tired. Taehyung chuckled at that, watching Y/N’s chest heave with every breath and syncing it to his own breathing. His thumb rubbed soothing circles onto her skin and he pressed a chaste kiss on her bare shoulder.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby.” Taehyung murmured, softly carding his hands through Y/N’s hair. All the exhaustion she had been feeling caught up to her, what with the tension of qualifying her exams, of meeting everyone’s expectations and the intense overwhelming pleasure she had just experienced.

Her lids dropped slowly, the only thing keeping her awake being the soft brush of cloth against her skin which she assumed was Taehyung cleaning her up. When her back hit the soft mattress and Taehyung’s warmth pressed against her skin, she could barely keep herself from crashing into sleep.

“Sleep Y/N.” Taehyung whispered against her hair, kissing her temple softly and pulling her to him. “Stop making me worry all the time. And don’t you worry either. You’ll do great. And you’ll make us all proud.” He finished, pressing more kisses against her hair and pulling her closer into his chest.

“I love you.”

With those words of reassurance, Y/N smiled just before she drifted off to sleep.

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