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spacebarbarianweird · 2 months

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Lost and Found

Synopsis: Astarion dissapears, and Tiriel goes looking for him.

Tags: dadstarion, dhampirs, hurt/comfort

Alethaine's age: 6 years old

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons This one is more Tiriel x Astarion centered but Alethaine has her role, too

Astarion can’t move - his regeneration doesn’t catch up with the damage he received. His ribs are broken and so are his hands. There is nothing left of his renowned vampiric strengths - he is helpless in front of those warriors.

Kill the vampire. Kill the vampire. Kill the vampire.

He feels dawn is close. His body stirs, and a wave of panic floods his mind. The sun will kill him. The sun will burn him.

Astarion tries to stand up but a strong blow knocks him down.

The first rays of the sun cut him like blades.

The last coherent thought comes to his mind.

Tiriel was right. He should have listened to his wife.

Tiriel is worried sick.

Astarion left a month ago with those men from Tunland - promising it would take only a dozen days and she wouldn't be stuck home with their daughter all alone.

But it’s been four weeks and he still hasn’t returned.

Alethaine sits on the ceiling with a book. Her adorable little face looks so serious that Tiriel can’t resist smiling every time she glances at her daughter.

Like every elven child Tiriel has seen, Alethaine looks a bit like a perfect doll - a bit smaller than human children, with soft silver hair, and pointy ears that twitch, reacting to sounds. The quarter of human ancestry doesn’t manifest at all in her. She could pass for a high elf if it wasn’t for her vampire fangs, skin too pale for a living girl, and the fact she barely breathes. Sometimes Tiriel can’t resist waking Alethaine up just to make sure she hasn’t died in her sleep. Just motherly anxiety, besides, nothing could have prepared Tiriel to be the mother of a dhampir.

Well, what did she expect, taking a vampire as a husband - but she had no idea dhampirs were anything but a myth.

“Mum.”

“What is it, Kitten?”

“When will Dad come back?”

“I don’t know”, Tiriel says.

The six-year-old flips the page. Tiriel notices elven letters, Espruar. Meanwhile, she is barely capable of reading a page in Common without having a headache, Alethaine easily reads books in both of her mother tongues.

She is smart, her daughter. Just like Astarion.

Who disappeared without a trace.

It’s not like him. Of course, dealing with pacts and contracts isn't a fast job. It often takes Astarion days just to understand what exactly happened between his client and whatever force they’ve decided to sign papers with (because no one wants to admit to their mistakes).

But Astarion doesn’t like to be away for too long. Tiriel knows it too well. They have been together for twenty-six years but what is it in comparison with two centuries of slavery, considering his previous life is completely erased from his memories? Astarion still has nightmares, he is still haunted. He needs her as much as she needs him.

He would have come back already - to her, to their daughter, to their home.

Tiriel is sure something bad has happened.

Vampires are vulnerable to the sun. To silver. Astarion could have been killed and she would never know about it.

Tiriel didn’t like Astarion’s last client at first sight—an obnoxious chieftain from the Tunland who was so similar to Tiriel’s abusive drunkard of a stepfather that she almost had a panic attack. He even spoke with the same shitty dialect native to Tiriel’s human relatives.

Tiriel even suggested finding someone in town to look after Alethaine in her absence. Hells she was going to let him go alone! But Astarion talked her out.

I love having you as my bodyguard, but let’s not leave Alethaine without both of her parents.

Tiriel feels a gentle touch of fingers on her hair.

“Mum.”

“Hm?”

“Your mum and dad were half-elves like you? Or one of them was an elf like me and Dad?”

Tiriel looks up. Well, sooner or later she would have asked. For some reason the absence of Astarion’s family doesn’t bother Alethaine (at least now), maybe because she understands the concept that “dad was killed and resurrected and it was so long ago it was all forgotten”—but the fact that Tiriel doesn't have anyone except for her husband probably surprises her.

“My mother was a human and my father was an elf.”

“But where are they? Is grandma dead?”

Tiriel is quiet for a second. Grandma. Well, sure. Tiriel did have a mother. A woman who gave birth to her. And hated her so much didn’t even bother to give her a name.

Tiriel does mental math. She has no idea how old her mother was when they last saw each other but considering some of Tiriel’s brothers had already had children,the old hag must be around ninety. If she is alive, which is dubious considering the living conditions in the Tunland and, especially, in the Sunset Mountains.

“And grandpa? If he is an elf, he is still somewhere!”

“Alethaine, I don’t know who my father was or is. I don’t know his name, I don’t know where he was from. And as for my mother… she wasn’t a good person.”

Alethaine winces her nose.

“But she was your mum!”

“She was a woman who gave birth to me. But she was never my mum. Alethaine, sometimes it happens. Sometimes mothers don’t love their children. And sometimes fathers just disappear without a trace. There are plenty of adults who shouldn't become parents at all.”

Alethaine shakes her head.

“What if Dad has disappeared too?”

“No,” Tiriel says firmly. “Your dad will come back.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Because he loves us.”

Alethaine squeezes her lips.

“Mum.”

Tiriel smiles. Once Aletaine starts asking, she doesn’t stop.

“Were you happy when I was born?”

“Of course! We were very happy to have you!”

Tiriel feels tears pricking her eyes. Of course, she can't know it but she is sure her own birth was met with curses and insults once her bitch of a mother and the midwife saw that the newborn had pointy ears.

Elven bastard. Dirty blood. Pixie.

Holding her own daughter in her arms for the first time, Tiriel couldn't understand how anyone could carry a child in their own body, experience childbirth, and still hate such an innocent human being.

“When I have a daughter, I will love her very-very much, just like you love me”

“Well, then she will be lucky to have both a mother and grandmother.”

Tiriel looks outside as if hoping to see a familiar figure approaching the house.

Nothing.

There is only one thing Tiriel can do about it except for waiting.

“Alethaine, I need to go away for a few days. You will live with the innkeeper's family.”

“You will go looking for dad?”

“Yes. And, please, don’t make me feel sorry I’ve left you with them.”

Alethaine nods. The innkeeper, his husband, and their five children are the only dwarves in Daggerlake - and almost the same “weirdos” as the Ancunins. Besides, the innkeeper is a retired adventurer and brews the best ale Tiriel has ever drunk.

“And promise me you won’t crawl on the ceilings. Even if you are asked to.”

“But it’s fun!”

“Yes, but people usually don’t like it when the child they are asked to look after can run away from them to the ceiling.”

“Bu muum…”

“ALETHAINE.”

Tiriel rarely uses her “rage” voice on Alethaine but it always works. Anethaine flinches, her eyes wide open and the book drops to the floor.

“Alright! I won't crawl on the ceiling!”

“Good girl. Now, get dressed and take what you need”

Tiriel hopes it will take her less than a week to find Astarion.

She is even ready to provide an offering to some deity to ensure she won’t coming back home a widow.

It’s hunger. Pain. Desperation.

Astarion wanders through narrow stone halls looking for prey. Nothing. There is nothing. This place is lifeless.

He is still there, in the dungeons, isn’t he?

Still locked somewhere under his master’s mansion. Starved, beaten, tortured.

It was all a dream

The sun. The warmth of a mortal body. The kisses, the hugs. Home, wife, daughter. It was just a mind trick.

The memories fade so does his consciousness.

A red-haired woman. Freckles on her back. She is saying something to him. Who is she? He can't remember.

A little girl. Cold pale skin, no breathing, blood with a bitter scent of wormwood. Dhampir? Or just an unfortunate child turned into a spawn?

No, they are not real. He is going to hear HIS voice. Humiliating orders. Astarions waiting for it like a lash.

Boy, don’t slouch before me.

Astarion lies on the cold stone. His body is paralyzed. Vampires can spend decades like that - they can’t die of hunger, they just freeze in a neverending torture.

The woman. She keeps invading his thoughts. Who is she? The vision slips away.

You’ve brought cattle, boy.

Yes, the master is here. He is disappointed. He will flay Astarion’s skin and chain him to the wall. But what did astarion do? Did he run away? Did he fail to bring the food? Did he break one of the unwritten rules he couldn’t possibly remember?

The night vale, the stars in the skies, the mountains in the distance. A bunch of red-haired warriors. Kill the vampire. Kill the vampire.

Sun is burning Astarion’s skin.

Did they just return him to his master?

Astarion doesn’t move. Soon there is no name, no reason. Just an empty starving shell.

BLOOD.

Astarion’s body stirs up. Someone alive is close, close enough for his vampiric senses to catch them.

HEART BEATING.

So loud he hears it from a distance.

He jumps on his feet and walks toward his prey.

A woman. Probably, a half-elf. He catches her mixed scent. She is armored with a two-handed ax.

And she is alone.

“Who is there?” she asks, ready to thrust her skull-crushing weapon. Too bad the prey has dark vision. It gives her some advantages. But she will be dead soon anyway, once she satiates his starving body.

He bares his fangs and almost physically senses her fear. The blood of a scared creature is the sweetest.

“Astarion?” her voice trembles. She takes a step back.

And drops her weapon.

He rushes toward her and knocks her to the ground. She doesn’t resist for some reason but the vampire doesn’t pay attention to that.

Astarion pierces her neck. Blood streams down his throat.

So sweet, so delicious. He can’t stop - he won’t stop. Every drop of this woman’s body is going to be his, he is going to satiate himself and then he will go hunting for someone else…

His body slowly gets warmer and his sanity slowly returns.

Astarion. My name is Astarion.

He doesn’t have a master.

He can… feed… on mortals…

Freedom. Sunlight.

Tiriel.

He pulls away and the woman falls on the stone floor, unable to move and barely breathing.

“Oh no…” he mutters observing what he has done. “Tiriel…”

Astarion crawls back to his beloved. Her eyelids are half open, and her skin is almost as pale as his.

“Tiriel!” he slaps her cheek. “Tirel! Stay awake! Look at me, look at me! Oh gods!”

He presses her weak body to his chest, cradling her in his arms. His darling Tiriel, his wife, his thiramin…

“M-my bag… There is… a… potion” she whispers.

Astarion opens it and finds a small bottle. He unclenches Tiriel’s jaw with his strong hands and pours the liquid into her mouth.

The color returns to her cheeks and her heart stops beating so fast. Her eyes are still full of fear and it hurts Astarion even more.

“Tiriel… I…” Astarion mutters but he can’t say anything else.

What is he going to say, after all?

“Astarion, what the hells happened to you?” she finally says. “You looked like a fucking ghoul! Well you still do… a bit”

Astarion gulps. His throat hurts. He needs more. He is too weak, too exhausted. Astarion looks at his hands to avoid Tirilel’s eyes and horror pierces him once again.

His hands are all covered in burns. Nail plates are broken, and the skin hangs in shreds.

“Hey! Astarion, look at me!” Tiriel finally makes herself sit up and grabs his mutilated hands. “Hush, I am here, I am here!”

She hugs him and he feels how weak she is. His body trembles, the panic crushes his mind with boiling hot waters, tears stream down his face and his mouth is open in a silent scream.

“Hush, my love, it’s going to be alright. We are going home. Alethaine misses you”

Alethaine. His daughter.

He is safe. His master is dead. He has it all.

And he’s almost lost it.

Tiriel cups his face. “Astarion, I shouldn’t have let you go. I knew something was wrong. Did they try to kill you?”

“I don't remember.”

“Where are your things? Daggers? The armor?”

Astarion looks down - his feet are bare, the trousers and the shirt are all in rags. He does look like he just emerged from a tomb.

“Damn. Well, let’s hope no one will attack us on the way back. Come on, let’s go outside and get you more blood. And then we are going home and the fuck I am letting you go alone next time!”

Tiriel lies on the bedroll. She’s set up the tent in the cave—close enough to the surface but with access to the underground tunnels.

She didn’t manage to understand what exactly happened to Astarion and why he was that feral when she found him. But the burns on his skin betrayed the only reason—the sun.

It seems like whoever did this managed to overcome Astarion in a fight and then let him burn in the sun. Astarion managed to get into the tunnels but lost his way. And since the tunnels were completely empty the hunger didn’t let him heal.

She knew they couldn't trust those bastards from Tunland! She has a good intuition after all. Next time Astarion had better listen to his wife!

Her whole body hurts, especially her neck. Astarion rarely feeds on Tiriel—her blood is more like a medicine to him rather than food but when he does he is always gentle, making sure the process doesn’t hurt her. But this—this was a full-fledged assault. He ripped her throat with his fangs and she is alive only thanks to the fact he returned to his senses before it was too late.

She hears light footsteps.

Astarion is back. His hands are healed and he looks like himself, not the starved monster she encountered in the tunnels.

She elbows up, but Astarion pulls away in embarrassment.

“Astarion, come here,” Tiriel asks. “I’ve spent a month in an empty bed. Don’t deprive me of your presence,” she takes his hand in hers.

Together they sit on the bedroll and Tiriel hugs him nuzzling the crook of his neck.

“I am sorry,” he says.

“Don’t.”

“I’ve almost killed you.”

“But you didn't. Astarion, please, you’ve lost yourself because of hunger. I won’t deny I was scared,but it doesn’t mean it has to change anything about us.”

“I almost killed you,” he repeats. “I would have stepped in the sun if I had done it.”

“Hm, and left our daughter an orphan? I don’t think there are many people ready to raise a dhampir.”

“Where is she?”

“I left with the innkeeper’s family. Good thing I went out looking for you. Who knows where the darkness would have taken you.”

He nods and presses his legs to his chest. Tiriel hugs him from behind. When they just started being together she did it daily—a ritual to console him. But it’s been a while since he needed it.

She kisses the nape of his neck. Then she kisses his cheek. Caress his ears. Plays with his curls.

“I love you,” she whispers. “You are the best thing that happened to me.”

Astarion weeps and Tiriel tugs him closer.

“You need to meditate, love” She kisses his forehead. “Think about something good. Remember how we left Baldur’s Gate twenty-six years ago? We hit the road at sunset and just walked hand in hand. Or when we were stuck in some shitty northern town for the whole winter? I couldn’t make myself leave the room and one night you came back with a pair of rings. You just put one on my finger and kept staring at me as if you saw me for the first time.”

“I prepared the whole wedding speech but forgot it all,” Astarion says, not even trying to get into reverie.

“Or remember how we were both freaking out because of the pregnancy? One day you just knelt in front of me, placed your hand on my belly and burst into tears because your vampire hearing allowed you to hear Alethaine’s heartbeat.”

“We need to go home, Astarion, and you need to rest. Then we can talk about anything that bothers you.”

Alethaine flips the page of the book. Thanks to dark vision she can read in complete darkness. The story catches her mind—it is a story of old times when elves ruled Faerun. Thousands and thousands of years before the Age of Humanity, her ancestors walked those lands, building the towers and castles and practicing the ways of long-forgotten magic.

But the intrusive thoughts keep getting into her young mind. First, Dad disappeared without a trace and Mum was so worried she could barely do anything. Then, Mum left town and Alethaine was all alone. Sure, the dwarven family is friendly and they don’t mind taking care of one more child (it’s not a big deal if there are five or six of them), but with every passing day Alethaine was getting more anxious.

What if both of her parents had died? What if she was already an orphan?

Two months passed like this. And then, she was woken up by familiar voices, and her tiny world was restored.

The dhampir puts the book away and takes her plushie. It’s nice to sleep in her own bed for once, but she feels so lonely it cripples her.

Alethaine walks to her parents’ room. Mum and Dad lie in each other’s arms. They discuss something she can’t understand.

“I think we have a visitor,” Astarion chuckles. “What is it, princess?”

“Can I sleep with you?” Alethaine asks, pressing the plushie to her chest.

“Sure, come here!” Astarion opens the blanket up inviting Alethaine in. The dhampir immediately nestles between her parents.

Tiriel hugs her and kisses the crown of her head and Astarion adjusts a bit so he can see both of his girls.

Alethaine relaxes. Her mother’s heartbeat is so loud it’s basically the only thing she can hear. Dad doesn’t breathe and his heart doesn’t beat, but she finds special comfort when he holds her—there is something more natural about his cold hands than her mother’s warmth.

“Did something scare you, princess?” Astarion asks, intertwining his fingers in Alethain’s long soft hair.

Alethaine feels a wave of sadness and fear rising up in her body. Before she manages to say anything coherent she bursts in tears causing both of her parents to immediately rush to comfort her.

“Were you afraid we were absent for so long?” Tiriel asks, placing Alethaine in her lap. Her motherly kisses are so tender the dhampir cries louder and more desperate.

Astarion sits up and wraps his hands around them both.

“I am sorry, princess. We aren’t going to leave you anymore, we promise.”

Alethaine sniffs, pressing her nose into Tiriel’s chest.

And then she hears a quiet lullaby.

Astarion hums it in Elven. Alethaine can’t decipher words but the song soothes her as Tiriel sways her a bit in her arms as if the dhampir was still a baby.

Both her mother’s warmth and her father’s undead coldness weave a perfect sense of comfort for her.

Of course, they were going to come back. They are her parents. They can’t disappear, they can’t die.

As Alethaine drifts into sleep, she notices the way her parents look at each other.

This image is being engraved in her mind and Alethaine will remember this even years later.

Even centuries later Alethaine Ancunin will remember the way her mother smiled to her father and the way Astarion held Tiriel’s hand. The way they talked to each other, the way they saw the world in their lover’s eyes.

Three centuries later, when Alethaine takes her own daughter in her pale hands, this image will flee into the dhampir’s mind, and she will weep, mourning her long-dead mother.

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

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Chaos // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter Three: The Other Women

Summary: Things were good between you and Rooster for what felt like a total of one whole minute before your entire world came crashing down around you—just like you knew it would. It’s always the same, the more you fuck around? The more you find out.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. SMUT—absolutely pitiful writing. (Heterosexual) Bradley Bradshaw x female reader.

Word Count: 6.6k

Author Note: EEP! I’ve been waiting to this chapter to go live since I finished editing it. So here it is! I couldn’t wait. Also, let’s play a little game—how many lines from popular songs can you spot!Have a lovely night and see you next week!

You weren’t a closed off kid. In fact you were the exact opposite. You’d talk to anyone about anything as long as they were willing to give you the time of day. But as you got older, you noticed how the people that mattered most to you seemed to vanish into thin air. You started to develop incredibly unhealthy abandonment issues—which at its current, were as heavy and all consuming as they were going to get.

It would be easy to blame it on the fact your dad had given up his fight against throat cancer, or blame Pete Mitchell for basically going MIA for months at a time without so much of an update. You could blame your wingman, Sam for dying when he said he’d see you tomorrow, but that would be selfish. Mainly you blamed your

issues on Bradley Bradshaw—because of all people he was the one who’d slip back in seamlessly, only to break your heart again every damn time. But most of all you blame yourself for letting him do it.

“WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!” Pete shouted as your feet hit the floor. Rooster and Bob standing nearby as they watched you squeeze your throbbing right hand.

“He had it coming!”

“That wasn’t my question Chaos—I asked what the hell is the matter with you!?” Clenching your jaw you looked at Rooster before your eyes fell to Bob. Sighing, he threw the piece of ginger you’d slipped into his coffee mug when he wasn't looking this morning your way. Catching it with your left. His way of saying tell them everything because he sure as shit wasn’t going to. It was your story to tell. “Answer me—“

“I lost my wingman—“ It was the first time you were saying it out loud. Holding back tears as you looked to Rooster. His own heart breaking for you. “It was a routine training mission, Bob was there, he honestly should have been my back seater for this detachment but I didn’t want to fly with someone again. Didn’t want to be held accountable.” It wasn't an easy decision to give Bob up. He'd been the best back seater you’d ever flown with. But you couldn't do it again. Didn't want to do it again. Something about being responsible for another person in your cockpit made you feel weak, made you tremble in fear and that wasn't something you liked to admit. You didn't play well with others, but you’d easily tolerate Rober Floyd.

“Hangman pulled your file—“ Rooster interjected as you nodded softly in response. Your hand brushed and swollen. “That’s how he knew how to get to you?”

“He was supposed to be fine, it was just a bird strike he–he ejected into the water, ditched the jet—God there wasn’t a scratch on him.” Bob could hear your screams in his head still to this day. Having had to drag you kicking and screaming from the hospital the next day. “I told him I didn’t wanna leave him, said I’d sleep in the corner of the hospital room in one of those really uncomfortable chairs.” Scoffing you felt blood dripping from the cuts Hangman’s jaw had caused your knuckles. “He died of a brain haemorrhage, his helmet was faulty because he had a tendency to drop it.” You explained, your voice soft. Almost inaudible. “I left him and he died and I can’t take that back.”

“One, don’t drop your helmet, it could be the only thing that saves your goddamn life one day.” Rooster heard you repeat inside his head from yesterday. He didn’t realise it at the time but you were watching his back, not just being overly cautious. Not just being annoying.

“I won’t tolerate reckless behaviour in my classroom, or fraternisation in the workplace for that matter.” Pete reminded you and warned Rooster as your head hung low. “Get yourself together, cool off, and meet me and the rest of the crew down by the beach at five.”

“Sir?” Bob stopped Maverick before he left the room. “Chaos is one of the best pilots I’ve ever worked with, if you’re about to talk to the admirals? If they do decide to pull her? Please know that could be one of the worst things they could do for this mission's success.”

“Noted Lieutenant—“ Maverick smirked. “Noted.” Bob was hesitant to leave as you stood trying to compose yourself, Rooster having already made his way over to the small kitchenette to fish a handful of ice out of the freezer. Packing it into a clean cloth nearby.

“I got her.” Rooster softly assured the quiet weapons systems officer. Giving him the all clear to leave the room. Bob looked you up and down on final time. He’d heard alot about the man who liked to play tennis with your feelings, with your heart. Bob felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for you. Stepping closer to where Rooster stood. His balls suddenly in his throat.

“All due respect Rooster, if you even think about breaking her heart again—“ Bob paused for a moment as he looked at you over Rooster's shoulder. Now sitting on the nearest table. Legs hanging over the edge. “I’ll kill you.” It wasn’t like Bob to threaten people, but when it came to the people he cared about? He’d do just about anything.

“I wouldn't dream of it, Bob.” Rooster assured him, watching as he nodded– accepting the reality of the situation that was playing out. Leaving you two alone, Bob left the room, his stomach unsettled because you blame yourself too much for the things you couldn't control. Wishing for a moment he could take just an ounce of the weight you placed on your shoulders.

Standing in his place for a moment, Rooster sighed deeply before he made his way over to you, jumping up onto the table beside you with a small audible huff.

“It’s always the weapons systems officers who end up scaring the crap out of me.” Rooster chuckled as he came to sit beside you, his knee bumping yours he sat that close. Smirking, you took the makeshift ice pack Rooster handed over.

“Bob's good people, he really held me together there for a while.” Placing the ice pack over your knuckles as you let your head fall against Rooster’s shoulder. He didn't reply straight away, he simply smiled softly as the feeling of being so domestically close to you. Enjoying the simplicity of the interaction. Nothing ever seemed so simple with you anymore, that was mainly his own fault.

“I wish you would have told me.” Rooster broke the silence as he shoulder bumped yours. Your head lulling off his shoulder as you looked at him. “I would have been there in a heartbeat for you.”

“Please, you wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow, Bradshaw.” You spoke way too softly, Rooster hated seeing you like this. “I didn’t—I don’t.” You corrected yourself. “Wanna let you in again because I know when I do it’s gonna hurt like hell,, you leave me every time I let my guard down.”

“You know I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you do anyway.” You were quick to justify why you had become so closed off. “You do anyway Rooster and I tell myself every time that you don’t mean to but it doesn’t change the fact I’m left pulling myself together again after Hurricane Bradshaw leaves a trail of destruction.” Pushing yourself off the table you stood before Rooster. His hands instantly drawing you closer to him by your hips. Standing between his legs as he listened to you. His eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips.

“You're heartless, cruel, you take miles from inches Rooster and we never get to finish what we start.” Rooster took notice that whenever he was without you—birds didn’t sing. There was no joy, no one to come home to. Sure he had a fling with some girl called Lindsey in his brief stint in New York but he couldn't commit. Birds stopped singing whenever you weren’t in his life and perhaps that was just something he noticed. Something small you took with you each and every time along with his heart, his ability to love. But as you stood between his legs, his fingertips curled into your hips. The birds outside the window had a reason to sing again. Removing a hand from your hip to burst the hair that had fallen effortlessly across the side of your face behind your ear. Cupping your cheek as he noticed your eyes trailing down to his lips then back to his eyes. “You really really don’t wanna do this.” You mumbled, warning Rooster.

“Are you trying to convince yourself?” Rooster smirked as he pulled you down into him. His lips on yours in a hot, needy mess. Both his hands cupping your cheeks. His tongue dancing with yours as you gave him more access to deepen the kiss.

“I don’t know how to properly explain how I feel about you.” Rooster broke the kiss. Letting his forehead rest against yours. “I run because the way I feel about you scares the shit out of me, I’m scared to lose you so I push you away, I think if I push you that maybe it’ll hurt less.”

“What did I call you yesterday? You teased as your forehead fell against Roosters. His hands trailing down your body to fall against your ass. Keeping you close to him as you stood between his legs.

“You called me Dumb–”

“Yeah.” kissing Rooster was as addictive as adrenaline to an adrenaline junkie. It was also just as life threatening. “Seems pretty accurate.” Things were complicated to say the very least. On one hand? Rooster was home. He always was and always would be home. But like one of those disgruntled, abusive manipulative homes? The ones where you just love them too much to see how much damage they’re actually doing until it’s far too late. Yeah—that was Bradley Bradshaw. “You’re no good for me, Rooster.”

“I know—“ You were expecting Rooster to put up some sort of fight, give you some complicated argument that turned the tables back onto you. But he didn’t. Rooster simply pulled back, his forehand disappearing from yours so he could get a good look at you and everything that made you. “Believe me, I know.” It was the way he said it that had your heart melting. Apologetic, self aware. “I don’t bring much to the table, and trust me I know everything that’s ever happened with us has been a direct chain link reaction because of something I did—but.” As Rooster spoke, your fingers played gently with the buttons of his flight suit. Your eyes hooded on his chest. “But none of that, no matter how bad things have gotten? I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.” Something inside the pit of your stomach dropped—not in at oh you were going to be sick kinda stomach drop. But in an oh fuck am I really gonna fall for this bullshit again? Kinda way. Had the handful of times you’d dated Bradley Bradshaw in the past really taught you nothing? Staring at Rooster his eyes begged, pleading with you to say something—anything.

“Perhaps, maybe—if you're willing to try again? I’d be willing as well?” It wasn’t a definitive statement, more so a lingering question. But nevertheless it sparked Roosters curiosity bringing his arms down again to scoop you forward and into him by your waist.

“Is that so?” He teased. Kissing you softly as he kissed him back. Lips melting almost perfectly together.

“Very slowly, at a snail’s pace.” You cooed as Rooster smirked back at you. Kissing you again only this time with more behind it. His tongue slowly ran across your bottom lip as he begged for entry. Wanting, no—needing more of you.

“Is this slow enough?” Rooster knew he was already approaching supersonic, but the way you stared at him? Biting your bottom lip as you chuckled and smirked wildly, was worth it.

“Slower.” You reminded him, your voice hiding whatever anxiety you were feeling in the pit of your stomach about feeling so vulnerable, so open. But whatever it was it all went away when Roosters lips were on your once again. Slowly, passionately. His hands cupping your cheeks as yours rested on his knees. Pushing yourself up an inch or two onto your toes.

“Okay, sure—what about now?” Pulling away breathless Roosted dared to ask you one more time, looking for any sign to slow down despite your obvious explication. All you could do was laugh at yourself, at how pathetic you felt in the palms of his hands. Safe, secure—in the most dangerous position of all.

“You’re becoming an occupational hazard Rooster.” Pushing away, you turned on your heels, sinking your teeth softly into your lip to once again stop yourself from smirking too wide. Too obviously smitten with the man of your dreams and your nightmares. “I’ll meet you at the Beach.”

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

“You got a hot date or something afterwards Bradshaw?” Mickey Garcia or as you’d known him by his call sign—Fanboy, teased a very sweaty, very shirtless, very ripped Rooster. You hadn’t really been able to take your eyes off him for the entire game of dogfight football. Rooster knew it too. He would deny it, but he’d been showing off just for you. Flexing his muscles, getting down and dirty. Wandering hands found their way to every part of you too—without shame, without a care. But now? He was flaunting his ego a little too much.

You had him right where you wanted him. Bending over in an attack position—ready to take off running down the beach the moment the whistle blew. You knew he was yours. “Wish someone would take me out!”

“What, on a date or with a sniper?” Rooster shouted back as he laughed, looking your way as you geared up to tackle Mickey.

“Surprise me!” Fanboy laughed, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose just as the whistle blew. Watching as you came sprinting his way. “Oh fuck—“ with a sudden clap of skin contacting skin and a subtly Oof, you and Mickey crashed to the wet sand below. Landing on top of him as the group whistled and cheered. “Jesus Christ, where did you come from!” Fanboy beamed as he let his head rest against the same, feeling you disappear from on top of him as you offered him a hand. Helping him up.

“You were too busy eyeing off Roosters abs, you may as well have had a giant red target on your chest.” Tapping his back softly, you walked side by side.

“Am I stepping on your toes Kazansky?” Fanboy cooed, knowing there was something between you and Rooster he could tease. “Don’t wanna share?”

“Unfortunately I’m not into polygamy, so no, Garcia—keep your eyes off what’s mine.” You could see Rooster out of the corner of your eye. He’d already fallen into the routine of just knowing where you were. Taking in the way you looked so effortlessly immaculate in your shorts, hidden by the cuff off the oversized shirt that adorned your body—deciding that Bob shouldn’t be the only person playing shirts.

“Ohh she’s claimed a camp. That’s cool that’s cool—I’ve still got my one and only.” Fanboy was pure. He was good people, the more time you spent getting to know the different TopGun pilots you knew they’d give anything to protect their own. Everyone except maybe Jake Seresin.

“Left or right?” You teased, questioning the back seater's personal preferences wondering if he’d respond. He did—way too proud.

“Right, but sometimes if I go in with the left it feels like—“ cutting Fanboy off with a groan you stopped him from going into too heavy detail.

“Okay—that’s enough, way too much information!” Laughing together as you reached down for the football, passing back to Mickey.

“So Bradshaw—“ Hangman cupped Rooster's exposed shoulder with his hand. The sun soaking into his skin. “How’s Chaos?” He wouldn’t normally ask, but his jaw still throbbed. “She packs a mean punch—“

“I wouldn’t wanna be the one on the receiving end, that's for sure.” Rooster stood with his arms crossed, watching you run around, laughing. “She’s okay—how’s the jaw?”

“Throb’s abit but nothing I can’t handle.” He wasn’t ready to admit it, but Jake felt bad for bringing up your file. Perhaps he’d crossed an unspoken line. But that would be a redemption arc for another day. “I do wanna know something though.” Hangman paused for a moment, watching you and Bob tag team. Racing up the straight of the beach as Hangman and Rooster stood off to the side—watching the chaos of dogfight football unfold. “I never took you for the eleventh man kinda vibe, always thought you were more of a paper rings person.” Frowning, Rooster turned to Hangman with a questioning brow. Annoyed.

“What are you going on about now?“ The irritation wasn’t very well hidden as Rooster spoke with Hangman. He still hadn’t really processed the tension he felt from the highly escalated training breakdown.

“You know, the eleventh man theory?” The silence could have been deafening as Hangman’s statement fell on deaf ears.

“No clue what you're talking about.”

“Right, well—say there’s a woman sitting around a table with ten men.” Hangman explained as he watched Roosters eyes trail you up and down the beach. “And all ten men are telling her how beautiful she is, how amazing she is. They’re buying her beers, sharing their food, just treating her like some goddess who’s walking the earth amongst us.” Rooster couldn’t help but to think, hell—he thought you were beautiful, a goddess in your own right. A powerful, respectable—independent Goddess. “Then, all of a sudden in walks the eleventh man.” Rooster turned his attention back to Hangman, his eyes off you reluctantly. “He takes one look at her, says, how you going—turns his back on her and turns all his attention back to his buddies.” Hangman let it sink in for a second before continuing his monologue that Rooster hadn’t remembered asking for. “That’s the guy she wants to be with, the eleventh man, not any of the ten men testing her well.”

“Where exactly are you going with this?” Rooster couldn’t help but to think this was coming off more an insult to his integrity than guidance.

“For some reason? Women don’t want nice, they don’t want real, they don’t wanna be treated well I mean—not a first and sometimes not ever. And I kinda get the vibe you’re a master at playing that role—the eleventh man.”

“And for some reason I really don’t trust your judge of character, all things considered.” Rooster left it at that as he walked your way, meeting you halfway up the beach as he flung his arm around your shoulders. Feeling your arm smack behind his midsection.

“So I was thinking, you, me—dinner, my place?” Rooster smirked as he tried tripping you up in the sand as you evaded his every attempt, countering his attacks.

“You and thinking are never good together.” Teasing you stopped in your tracks. “But what were you actually thinking?” The sun had turned golden and it made Rooster look oh so fine.

“I heard that Penny has a mean takeaway menu.” The invitation still in the air, for a moment Rooster genuinely believed you may turn his advancements down. “Just between two friends who need to catch up.” At his words you felt smitten, endlessly looped into a world where Bradley Bradshaw would forever have your heart.

“Okay, um—yeah I’ll have a shower and head over if you wanna order?” You agreed, kissing his cheek softly. The warmth the sun had gifted him radiating under your lips.

“Sure, sounds great.” Rooster replied as he felt helplessly into your web. Your touch? pure crack. Always had been always would be. His love language had always been physical.

“Rooster?” You cooed as you pulled away, squinting as the sun hit your face. Holding a hand up to shadow it. “Remember, slow.” Feeling the need to just remind him, because with how good he was looking? There was a slight chance you wouldn’t remind yourself later.

Rooster chuckled, noticing the way your eyes trailed down his body. Reaching out to tilt your chin up. Caught red handed as his ego skyrocketed.

“Slow and steady—got it.”

But things did not go slow and steady. Things got hot and things got very heavy very quickly the moment you stepped into Roosters small studio apartment. The short twenty minute drive off base had you pulling up to the Bradshaw residence. Unlike your first experience at TopGun, you’d been given the opportunity to either live on base in the Barracks or—in Fightertown. Rows of small studio townhouses lined the streets. You were lucky enough to have something a little more spacious. A two bedroom one bathroom. Rooster? He was very much living a Bachelor's dream. The studio townhouse was all he needed. One bed, one bedroom. Small living room with a kitchenette off to the side. But none of that really mattered. Because the second you stepped through the threshold of Bradley’s home? You were on him and he was most certainly on you.

There was a small pause when Rooster opened the door. Your eyes lingered on him as his travelled the extent of all that was you. If you were put on the stand and asked to swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth so help you god you wouldn't be able to say who started it. Who exactly made the first move or who definitely made the first unholy move. But nevertheless it happened. As much as your brain was telling you to pull back, take it slow, don't dive head first into the deep end without learning how to swim first. Your lips melted with Roosters perfectly as he took you in his arms. Working to bring you further into his home as you shut the door blindly behind you.

“What happened to slow and steady?’ Rooster teased as he led you down the hall to his bedroom, your hands on the curves of your hips as you reached up to cup his face with one and and to hold the back of his head close to you with the other. Bumping into the wall as he reached behind him for his door handle. “This doesn't feel very slow and steady?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” You mumbled into his mouth, eyes closed, headstrong. Rooster smirked against you–softly biting your bottom lip as he pulled you into his room. Spinning you around before kicking your feet out from under you. Standing to watch you fall back onto his bed before he followed you down. Hovering over you as he attacked the juncture of your neck with soft kisses. Peppering your skin with marks that would surely be visible come the morning.

“Yes ma'am–” You heard Rooster mumble as your hands wandered between you. Reaching for the waistband of his tracksuit pants. Slipping past the band of his boxer briefs, you found him. Hard, throbbing. Aching for some sort of relief. “Ohhh-fugh.” it was music to your ears. The way Rooster buried his face into the crook of your neck as you slowly but ever so surely worked him over. “Y/n–”

“Bradley–” Rooster found your lips again before he pulled himself away, standing to rid himself of his shit, his sweatpants. Almost as if you were trying to match his eagerness, you did the same, ridding yourself of your shirt, your pyjama shorts. Rooster stood before you as you kneeled in front of him on his bed, staring you down like a man who;d been touch starved and deprived of all human contact for weeks, months, years. “Like something you see?”

“Oh I love someone I see.” His words made your heart leap over the moon as he came down to kneel in front of you, his hands pulling you close to him by your hips as he leaned in to kiss you again. Slowly, passionalty, deeply. “So much, you have no idea.” Rooster felt your hands on his length once again, pumping him expertly as he let his forehead rest against yours. “Can't ever get enough of you.”

“You're just saying that so I don’t stop.” Teasingly, you moved your hand a little faster up and down the length of Bradleys shaft, your core dripping at the hitch in his voice as he moaned softly, trying to keep his cool as you made his head spin. All the blood in his body bumping through one body party.

“I'll say whatever you want me to say so long as you keep going.” You were high, looking down as you watched your hand glide up and down Rooster’s shaft. Deciding it just wasn’t enough. Taking charge as you pushed him down onto his back, watching with hungry eyes as Rooster crawled backwards up to where his pillows laid sprawled around. Perhaps sleep never came easy to him either, you caught yourself thinking for only the briefest of moments. Crawling after Bradley you sunk low between his exposed thighs, skin a little lighter where his shorts usually covered. More sensitive. Running your nails up and down the flesh that never saw enough attention, the hiss Rooster made in response orgasmic in and of itself. “Shit–!” before he had a chance to really do anything besides let his guard down, your mouth was expertly taking him. Inch by inch. Slowly working your tongue around his girth, eyes trained on him as you did so. Whatever you couldn't fit? Your hand was wrapped around, making sure every inch was accommodated for. “Oh my god, fucking christ–” reaching down to card his fingers into your hair, Rooster couldn’t help but to guide you down on him. His hips slightly bucking up whenever your mouth came down to take every inch on him. His entire world was spinning—the feeling of your mouth so warm and inviting around his shaft. The back of your throat against the tip of his cock. “Ohh—fuck baby you’re killing me.”

Baby. That was something Rooster hadn’t called you in a long time. Pausing, you sat up, pushing yourself back onto your knees as Rooster followed you desperately. His eyes had never been so dark. So lustful. So hungry. Laying you down as he sunk between your thighs, leaving a trail of soft and subtle kisses up the inner part of your thigh. His arms wrapping up and around your legs, his hands resting on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you for permission to dive head first into his pandora’s box.

“Bet you still taste like candy—“ it could have been a throw back to the night you and Rooster had lost your virginity together. Or maybe to the hundreds of other times you’d have sex—still, it made you throb at the idea he craved the taste of you. Nothing could compare.

“Why don’t you stop doing so much talking and find out?” Within a second of your taunting tease, Rooster's mouth devoured you. Your elbows that were working to support you kicked into overdrive as Bradley’s Tongue lapped at your core, sending shockwaves of unimaginable pleasure throughout your entire body—from the tips of your toes to your fingertips. Wrapping your legs around his shoulders Bradley got deep, got messy. Sucking against your client as he worked you closer and closer to the edge. “Oh fuck—! Yes, yes yes Rooster just like that, ah fuck!”

“What’s my name?” Rooster pulled away as he quickly replaced his mouth with two of his thick digits, slipping easily past your folds. Invoking an all consuming moan of pleasure from the depth of your soul as you rolled your eyes. Throwing your head back as your elbows gave out. “Say it—“

“I’m not saying it!” You cried as Rooster curled his fingers into your velvet walls. Working the pad of his thumb around in small circles against your clit. He knew you were close by the way you were grilling his fingers. “Bradley—fuck, please don’t stop.”

“I’m not gonna let you cum until you say it at least once, like you mean it too.” Rooster was having the time of his life, watching you fight for your life as he worked you ever so perfectly towards your high. His fingers coated, his thumb cramping, crawling up slightly to hover over yiu, taking the hardened bud of your nippled between his teeth before sucking. Making a pop before he moved onto the next. “Say it Chaos—“

“I’m gonna cum!” You eyed him down with a slack jaw. Totally consumed. “Bradley—I’m gonna—“

“Say it and I’ll get you there.” You couldn’t hold it back, afraid Rooster would stop his motion you gripped his worst so he couldn’t pull away—leaving you unsatisfied. Looking him directly in the eyes you begged him, pleaded with him to keep going. You were so very close. “Say it baby—“

“Daddy—you’re daddy!” It hit you like a tsunami. The orgasm that Rooster coaxed you through with his fingers, with his touch, with his shit eating grin because he got you to say the one thing you swore on your life you’d never call him. “Ohhhh my god!” You couldn’t help it, your eyes rolled as you moaned and enjoyed the pleasure Rooster had given you.

“Your so fucking gorgeous.” Rooster whispered as he littered your neck with soft kisses. “So gorgeous Y/n.” Coming to you craved more, instantly needed to feel full. When Roosters lips finally made their way to yours, you took the chance to flip over—it was now you in charge. Straddling his waist as Rooster's length laid between your folds. Slick and warm. “My turn.” You smirked. Pulling Bradley’s hands up over his head. You knew in any other circumstance he’d fight you, wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of control. But you had him, he’d do anything you asked.

If anyone was going to know who fucked who? They were going to know you fucked Bradley Bradshaw—he didn’t fuck you.

Bucking his hips up, Rooster aided you as you guided yourself down his length. Taking him inch by inch as he stretched you out. The O sound you made had Roosters head spinning. Gripping your thumbs as you held his hands over his head, pressing him into the bed. Your mouth blinding searching for Bradley’s to muffle your moans. Grinding atop him as you took him entirely.

“Fuck—“ Rooster hissed into your mouth. His teeth crashing against your as you slowly slid up and down, up and down. Your nectar coating his coat so well it was nearly perfect the way he fit inside you. The tip of Rooster's cock kissed your cervix with passion every time you took him deep. Hip crashing with his. “Holy fuck—baby.” There is was again. That pet name. It gave you such an incentive to keep going, keep fucking him the way you knew he liked it.

“I know you wanna cum for me, don’t you Bradley.” You teased as you tried to bring him closer to his high. “Drip down my thighs—fill me to the brim.” If Rooster died tomorrow this was what his version of heaven would be like. His eyes rolled as he threw his head back, neck straining as he broke his hands out from underneath yours. Bringing them crashing to your hips as he bent his knees—planting his feet against the mattress as he fucked up into you. “Fuck!! Yes!! Bradley—!!” It was hard, nasty, desperate.

“I’m so fucking close—“ Rooster could feel his balls, how tight they were. He felt the load ready to release at the base of his shaft, pooling—ready for release. “Where do you want me to?”

“I don’t care, I’m covered.” You were taking regular birth control, although not one hundred percent effective against pregnancy you could always get your hands on a plan B. “Wherever you want, daddy.” It absolutely nailed you to say it, it wasn’t your vibe. But you knew Rooster loved it. “Cum for me baby.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit—Fuckk—!!” Rooster groaned as he fucked you hard, his cock pulsing inside you as you felt the warm sensation of his load filling you. Dripping against your velvet walls. “Oh my god.” Stilling, Roosters tense muscles softened. Pulling you down to his chest as you both caught your breath, sweaty. “Jesus Christ—“

“That was not very slow and steady of us.” You listened to Rooster's heart beating as he held your head against his chest.

“Oh god no, we skipped like six thousand steps there.” Kissing your forehead Bradley laid his head back against his mattress. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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

The gentle sound of the shower running mixed with the alarming sound of Rooster’s phone going off on his bedside table had you jolting away. Stretching underneath the covers, you rolled over. An unknown number lighting up Roosters phone.

“Hey Roos—your phones ringing, unknown number!” You shouted.

“Uh, can you answer it?” Rooster’s voice carried itself out to where you’d laid in his bed. Still naked under the thin sheets as you sat. Yawning as you answered.

“Hello Bradley Bradshaw's phone.”

“Hi, who's this?” A woman’s voice rang through your ear as you frowned.

“Oh this is Lieutenant Kazansky, just answering Roo—“

“Well this is Lindsey, his girlfriend, can you get him to call me back? I had to get a new number, his number wasn’t working with my old one.” It just didn’t click at the time purely because you were stuck on the whole girlfriend thing. “Hello?”

“Sure, yeah uh—sure, I’ll um.” Rooster stepped back into his room with a towel strung low around his waist. Still dripping wet. Turning your head to face him you choked out your words as your jaw clenched.

Un fucking believable.

“I’ll get him to call you back, Lindsey.” Roosters eyes went wide as you dropped his ex-girlfriend's name. If that’s what he’d even call her. Racing towards you as you hung up the phone, throwing it down with a look Rooster never hoped to ever be on the receiving end of again. Scurrying off his bed.

“Y/n wait—“ Rooster watched as you bundled up your clothes, dressing yourself quickly. “It’s not what you think I swear—“ Reaching out as you shrugged him off. Snapping back at the only man you’d ever truly loved. The only person who you thought just maybe, giving one more chance to, wouldn't blow up in your face again. But oh boy did it. Bigger than ever before.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” You shouted, the agony evident and clear, utter heartbreak lacing every word. Hot tears streamed down your face as uncontrollable quivers made your lip to that unsteady quivering thing children did when they were upset. Only this felt primal, a natural instinct taking over– you needed to leave, get the fuck out of Bradley Bradshaws house, get away from him, remove yourself from his life once and for all. This had been nothing but a mistake you promised yourself you wouldn't make. Yet here you were. As you got dressed as quickly as you could you couldn't stop yourself from mumbling out the atrocity you felt like.

“The other fucking women Bradshaw!” Scoffing, you felt sick to your stomach. “Fuck you’ve made me feel like a lot of things but this? The other women!!” Your chest grew tighter and tighter with every breath you took.

“Y/n I’m serious this isn’t how it looks, I promise!” Rooster tried to explain but you just weren’t willing to listen. “I promised you, and I meant that.” There was a reason the number had come up as unknown. Rooster had been seeing this girl in New York on and off for a few months, nothing serious, super casual. Until one day he came home to find her half way through moving some of her stuff in. it was kind of a red flag he just wasn't willing to take the chance on. Calling it off as soon as he could, as polite as he could. It was needless to say things had been a little crazy there for a while. To the point where he had to block Lindsay on all his socials, his email, his phone.

Rooster should have known deep down that even if the hardest pill he could ever shallow was knowing you could find another him tomorrow, he could never find another you no matter how hard he tried.

“I knew– I goddamn knew I never should have let you in!!” Turning as Rooster followed you out of his room down his hallway. Heading towards the front door. “Don’t you ever talk to me again! Do you understand!”

“Just wait a second and let me explain!” Rooster really did try to make an effort to stop you leaving, stop you from getting away before he had the chance to explain. Reaching out for your wrist you smacked him away. Pointing a stirn finger his way as all the hurt, all the betrayal and anger you felt just poured out in waves. Completely consuming Rooster as it finally clicked.

You thought so little of him and his ability to actually love you that you generally thought he’d do this to you.

“So help me god Bradshaw I will break every bone in your hand if you touch me one more time.” It was the silence that hurt the most, Rooster’s inability to just say he didn't use you. Caught up in his own emotional turmoil at the realisation you must have had incredibly low expectations of him. “I never should have let you in.”

“You really think that low of me that I'd do this to you.” Rooster didn't pick his head up. His eyes never met yours as he stopped any and all attempts to not let you walk out of his house. Perhaps it was the best thing he could ever do for you? Let you believe he cared so little.

“Well I’d never treat me this shitty!” Your face grew hotter with every passing second, Rooster held his own tears back as he felt his heart shattering. For once? He felt an ounce of the heartbreak he’d probably caused you ten times over. “You know something Bradshaw?” There it was again, that sting of his last name. Rooster realised it wasn’t what you said it was how you said it. You'd only use his last name to tease him, get a rise out of him—but you’d started using it to hurt him. “I never told anyone anything bad about you, sure! I told Bob about some guy I used to date who made promises to change but couldn’t pull the trigger and even if I was talking about you? I never—ever said your name!” Shoving at Roosters chest he never budged. “That so embarrassing Rooster, you were my everything!! You are my fucking everything but all you constantly do is make me sad!”

“If you would just stop and listen to me for one second Y/n I promise it’s not what you think.” His final attempt to get you to listen had you stepping back with every advance Rooster made.

“Please—“ Sobbing, you begged him. Pleaded with whatever love you had left for him. “Leave me alone.” Before you made your way out Roosters front door. Leaving him standing in the threshold watching you get into your rusted up Bronco. Roosted watched on as you ripped the chain from around your rear view mirror, pulling it with such force it snapped like every single heart string he had.

It wasn’t long before it landed discarded on his front lawn. Holding the towel that hung low on his hips, Rooster paddled over to where the now broken necklace he had gifted you all those years ago had landed. Picking it up before he walked back inside,

Placing it next to where his own half hung—

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

Chaos Masterlist

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#bradley bradshaw angst #top gun bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x f!reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader

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velvetxkissesx · 1 year

Text

come home

izuku midoriya x fem coded reader

after Izuku leaves UA, you and the rest of your class make the decision to drag him back kicking and screaming if you needed to. you go over the recent events that led you up to that moment in time.

WARNINGS: SPOOIIILLEEERRRS FOR SEASON SIX SO IF YOU HAVENT WATCHED OR READ THE MANGA YOU’VE BEEN WARNED. violence, lots of cussing because of katsuki bakugo being present, extremely unedited and unread, it’s so long I hate it so much but I’m posting it anyways because I’ve been obsessed with this idea. it’s a little angsty I suppose

“You know he isn’t going to come easily, right?” You mumbled to Bakugo, as you two walked out of the security gate side by side. The rest of your class behind you.

“Yeah yeah, I’ve kicked his ass once, I’ll do it again and drag him back by his stupid hair,” Bakugo tightened his gauntlets before he looked at you, and finally realized how terrified you were, “Hey, this is going to work idiot, we all have things we need to say to him."

You all made your way, following the gps Endeavor had for him. Everyone’s nerves were high, maneuvering through the streets. There was no way you guys were going to fail this mission. Not when it was something this important. For someone this important.

"Over here, I found him."

-----a few days after izuku left UA

"Bakugo she's still HEALING!" You could hear a loud commotion outside of your hotel room. There wasn't much left in you to care though, not when you were rereading the same scribbled out note that was on your bed. It was even right next to your favorite flower.

You have to understand that not telling you about One for All was hard. There were a lot of times that I wanted to turn to you, but I couldn't. Don't be mad at Kacchan for knowing and not saying anything either, I made him swear. I have so much that I want to tell you, but that will have to wait for now. I am sorry I kept this a secret from you of all people.. You almost died, he almost killed you because he gathered what you meant to me. I have to stay away from UA, away from you, to keep you all safe.

I hope you can forgive me..

Izuku.

Your door busted open, Bakugo being held back by Sero and Denki. He looked at you, and then at the paper in your hands.

"Stop crying and get your ass up, we need to figure this out." Bakugo threw a bag with your uniform in it at you. You looked up at him and the other guys and waved them out of the room so you could get dressed.

......

"Todoroki, I might punch your dad," You mumbled, and the taller boy looked down at you while you all waited to corner him in the principal's office.

"You were just released from the hospital after your heart was slightly punctured, I don't think punching the number one hero is in your best interest," Todoroki half-way joked with you, before his tone went serious again, "If you do it though, you'll have my support."

All of you walked into the principal's office, and Endeavor looked shocked at first before he sighed. He almost seemed to just accept the fact the entirety of Class 1-A was standing in front of him. None of you were happy with him. Bakugo explained to him why you guys needed to go, and you backed up his statement. The two of you, and Todoroki staring down the number one hero. Endeavor tried to argue and talk him out of it, but the principal wouldn't budge. Instead he gave you the okay to track down Midoriya, and bring him back.

----------

Your feet ran faster than you should have been able to, considering it wasn't too long ago your heart was in pretty bad shape. None of that mattered though, your best friend was there. He was there and you were close enough to reach him. You could reach him. All of you were in the area soon enough, Todoroki using his ice to subdue the villain Midoriya was fighting even further. Yaoyorozu helping imprison him even longer.

He didn't even look the same anymore, not even just because he hadn't bathed in who knew how long. His usually bright green eyes were dull, and tired now. You didn't know what you wanted to do more, hug him or punch him for leaving you all behind like that. He was looking around slowly, trying to assess the situation. Finally though, his eyes landed on you.

For a moment he looked relieved, but then his face dropped again.

---------------------

Izuku watched in horror as the black and red shards shot out of Shigaraki, but he wasn't aiming for him. No instead they went for their target, you. One went straight through your chest, another hitting your shoulder, another hitting your leg.

You didn't scream, you didn't even panic. Instead your clouded eyes focused on the one thing that always calmed you down. Izuku Midoriya, with his beautiful green hair, and matching green eyes. The boy that felt like spring to you. You wanted him to be the last thing you saw.

Izuku couldn't move as he watched the blood you coughed up trickle out of the corner of your mouth. Your once bright colored suit now soaked red. Before you went limp, before your eyes closed for what Izuku thought was for good, you said something. Izuku couldn't hear it though, because before he could even process what had happened to you, Bakugo was injured just the same.

-----------------------

“I don't understand, why are you here?" He looked everywhere but you, which made you want to punch him even more.

"We were worried about you," You stepped more towards Bakugo, making sure he couldn't just ignore you. Izuku's eyes flickered towards you again. He grabbed his mask and started to stand up.

"That's nice, but I'm fine really, no need for concern," He put his mask back on his face, "So leave."

Bakugo started to clap.

"Oh yeah, great speech! Wasn't that great?" Bakugo looked at you, you knew he was trying to keep you on track, "Just what we wanted from the famous One For All successor! Real talk, are you able to smile right now?"

"In order to smile.. For everyone to live in peace.." He stood up, and maybe you were just trying to convince yourself but you swore you could've felt him looking at you through his mask, "I have to go, I'm sorry."

Izuku got ready to move, and you took in a deep breath. All of your classmates were already prepared for this, for him to go this route. There was no way he was going to let it happen without a fight.

"You're going to have to make us, ya busted-ass All Might wannabe!" Bakugo taunted.

"We had a feeling that's what you were going to say," Iida sighed, "Let's do this class!"

"You're coming home Izuku." You clenched your fists

---------------------------

You knew it was Bakugo when there was one quick knock, followed by your door handle being shaken, and then more knocks coming after. You opened the door and he shoved a costume case at you, followed by a bag of your fixed up support equipment.

"We have his location, we are going to get him now, and you're coming," Bakugo grumbled, and you raised an eyebrow, "Don't give me that stupid face, I know what the principal said about you hanging back, and I don't give a shit,"

"You guys can do this without me," You sighed and turned into your room. Bakugo let out an annoyed sigh, followed by a lot of mumbling that you could only assume would piss you off if he said it out loud.

"Look, just because your heart got a tiny little hole in it, doesn't mean that you're not capable of helping!" Bakugo snapped, and he grabbed your shoulders to turn you towards him, "That damn idiot needs to see you, standing up, walking, and talking, or else all of this goes to shit!"

"I don't understand why I am such a crucial part to this working!" You shouted, the tears stinging your eyes, "I mean it's not like we were that close anymore, not since we started work-studies! You and Todoroki will be there, Iida will be there, everyone else will be there I don't understand why it all falls apart if I don't come!"

"Do I have to spell this shit out for you? You aren't just a friend to him, just like he isn't for you," Bakugo's tone seemed to soften, even if he was still talking at the same obnoxious volume, "Look, we both have shit that we have to say to him, things we have to confess, so get dressed and come the fuck on,"

You blinked a few times, trying to figure out how Bakugo knew about your feelings for your best friend. It wasn't something you had really shared with anyone.

"You knocked out on the battlefield, you didn't see him after we got stabbed, for a second I thought the idiot might actually rip Shigaraki's ass into pieces," Bakugo's voice was finally quieter, "Once he was on the ground, and he was looking at what we all thought was you lyin' there dead, he told you he loved you, that he was in love with you,"

"W-what?"

"That's why I am saying we need you to help us, he needs to see you okay again, and maybe then we will have a better chance to get through to him."

You nodded your head.

Before you lost consciousness after being stabbed, you told Izuku the same thing.

That you loved him.

-------------------

Everyone had been trying to talk to him, but he just kept trying to run. That was until he fell into your trap. Todoroki was the next line of defense after you, but Izuku wasn't showing any sign of moving once he saw you. He actually dropped once he spotted you on the roof. His mask had fallen off and you were finally getting a good look at his face.

"I am trying to protect you, you have to let me go," Izuku's voice cracked a little, but you shook your head and stepped towards him. He didn't run or back away, he stayed still.

"I am so.. so angry with you," You tried your best to keep your temper and your voice even, "Do you remember, a few nights before the battle even happened, when we were sitting in your dorm room?

---------------------

"I'm happy that I've had you for such a long time, you know that?" Izuku's words caught you off guard, both of you turning red, "I just, I mean, because we are best friends and-"

You looked at him, and gave a small smile, "I'm happy that I have you too, Izuku."

Neither one of you could find the right thing to say next. So instead you both just sat on his bed, and changed the subject to other little things going on. There was one difference though, your pinkies stayed right next to each other, just barely overlapping.

-----------------------

"I had so much more that I wanted to say, but I was too scared to," You stepped closer, "But I'm not scared anymore, so Izuku what I really wanted to say that day, what I said to you after Shigaraki-"

"I know, at least I think I do," Izuku whispered, and you stopped, "Which is just another reason why I have to go, I have to get as far away from you as possible, so that he can't use you against me again."

"Do you really think you being gone is going to stop him from targeting the school? From targeting us?!" You finally let the tears come out, "I am so sorry that you had to see that happen to me, I should have moved faster, but if you think you know what I was going to say that day, then you know why I am not giving up until I know you're safe!"

Izuku stepped forward, and pushed your hair off of your forehead. His lips were chapped, but they still felt so soft against your skin. Both of you seemed to be stuck in time like that, his lips just barely kissing your forehead. There was a silent apology in that moment, a silent confession. Before you could reach for his hand and let him know that it was okay, and that you really did feel it too, he was gone. Todoroki's ice wall was the next thing to catch him. The next plan was in motion.

"We are with you! You don't have to face anything alone!" Tsu shouted at him and the ice began to shake. You ran to the edge of the building, and watched.

"Have you considered this might be exactly what All For One wants?!" Todoroki yelled, "He could go after UA while we are distracted here! You've worn yourself out, and you still don't have a lead on the League, so stop this!"

"Izuku you need a new plan!" You shouted, using your quirk to get up onto the ice with Todoroki so he could hear you, "We are more than ready to help you do just that!"

"If you actually want to save our school, then instead of abandoning it, come back and fight for it!" Todoroki held out an arm to protect you from slipping on the ice that was still struggling to hold Izuku, even though Todoroki was forming even more to try and hold him, "Let's stand together and protect UA!"

'"You can't be near me!" Izuku struggled against the ice.'"You can't be near me!" Izuku struggled against the ice.

"You don't get to make that decision for us!" You yelled, grabbing Todoroki's arm to steady yourself, "Izuku please!"

"You could all die! This is a fight that is destined to take place, between One for All and All for One, the rest of you can't keep up!" Izuku finally broke out of the ice, and Todoroki got you two off of the ice. You looked at him defeated but he gave you a firm nod and got ready for the next phase.

Bakugo was helping Iida get to him. Kaminari placed a firm hand on your shoulder. He was trying to reassure you, silently, as you all cheered for Iida. You flinched forward a little bit, your heart still too exhausted to be doing all of this. Sero and Kaminari both helped you back down onto the ground, where Kirishima was trying to catch them.

"Stop trying to run away from us," You stepped away from the other two boys, walking towards Izuku more, "Don't you get it? We aren't giving up on you, we all agree it is time for you to come back,"

"I wish I could, but I.. I am too scared, there are a lot of people that me coming back could cause trouble for," Izuku's voice was cracking. You grabbed Bakugo's shoulder.

"Do it." You whispered.

----------

"When you said that you have things you needed to confess to him, do I have some competition to worry about?" You opened the door, and Bakugo scoffed before he shook his head.

"No, dumbass, I just owe the idiot an apology," He mumbled, his eyes avoiding your own wide ones, "I owe you one too, but you're going to have to wait,"

"Awe Kacchan, I always knew you were still our friiieennnddd." You teased, trying to lighten both of your moods. The three of you grew up together, and although Bakugo didn't shove you as far away as he did Izuku.. He still distanced himself enough from you.

-----------

The crowd reacted the way you had all expected them too. Izuku had tried to sneak off, but you grabbed his hand. The two of you looked at one another, but he stayed silent. He squeezed your hand slightly. Uraraka was the one to try and take a stand though, floating above the crowd while she defended why he needed to be there. You only let him go when Kota broke through the crowd, running for the boy who once saved him. You stepped back, standing by Bakugo as you watched the crowd change their minds.

"You still need to tell him y'know?" Bakugo muttered, nudging you slightly, "If I could apologize to Izuku in front of our entire class, you can tell him you love him, let it be in private later, but you have to do it,"

"I will, but first he needs to rest, plus Denki was right he needs to take a damn bath."

The boys took charge of making sure that Izuku got a bath. Judging by all of the noise, you could only assume it was going well. You got out of a quick shower, and made your way back to your room. The boys were going to be there awhile, and you were sure that it wouldn't be the right time to have that conversation now. You opened your door though, and let out a scream at the fact there was already another person standing in there.

"I'M SORRY KACCHAN MADE ME COME UP HERE AND WAIT I THOUGHT YOU KNEW!" Izuku's hands frantically waved around as he rushed forward to apologize.

"That idiot really needs to understand that it was more than just a tiny hole," You mumbled, rubbing your chest, "Zuku stop saying you're sorry, it is okay, I just wasn't expecting you, I thought you were still in the bath,"

"Some of the guys still are," Izuku's eyes were focused on where the scar was just barely showing out of your tank top. You closed your door, and grabbed his hand. You were certain he stopped breathing when you put his hand against the left side of your chest.

"It wasn't your fault that I got hurt, I was trying to help you, I knew the risk," You whispered, holding his hand against your heartbeat, "He managed to hit right beside my heart, so it wasn't punctured all the way through, but there was a lot of bleeding, the medics fixed it though,"

Izuku's eyes filled with tears again, as he stared at where his hand was resting. You only moved his hand, so you could hug him. You wrapped your arms around his torso, and pressed your face into his chest. His arms wrapped back around you, his face pressing into your hair. The two of you stood there like that, crying with each other. Taking in the fact that you were both okay, you were both alive.

"I couldn't hear you that day, when you told me, it wasn't until a couple days ago when the moment replayed in my head that I realized what you said," Izuku pulled back, and pulled you back too, "I came to see you before I left, you were asleep, all hooked up to machines and out of surgery for them to fix what quirks couldn't, they said that they were just waiting for you to wake up but that they didn't know when that was going to happen.."

"I didn't until a few days after you left, then I found your note and," You trailed off before you took a deep breath, "Izuku, there is so much happening right now, and I know that everything is a little tense and scary, so maybe it isn't the right time but we both know that there is a lot we need to lay out for each other, so can we just.."

"I love you," You could barely hear him, but he said it first, "You're right, things are tense and scary, we don't know much for certain, but I know how I feel about you, and I can't let myself be scared about that anymore, but before this can be anything I.. I mean we have to defeat All for One, and I would like to do that with you by my side.."

Both of you were still crying, but you knew it wasn't just guilt or sadness anymore. They were happy tears too. You were both convinced the other was in danger, and for the first time in weeks you both felt at ease. Just standing with each other, holding onto each other. Izuku’s feelings finally out on the table. No more ‘I have so much to say’, no more beating around the bush. He loved you, in the same way you loved him. So even though you knew he was right, and it wasn’t the time or place for you both to cross that line between friends and lovers..

"I love you, so much, I have for awhile now before you had One for All, before you were this big hero with the fate of the world on his shoulders," You put your hands on his chest, "So now it’s time for you to share that burden, with me, with everybody here, because we are in this together Izuku Midoriya,”

Originally you were just going to kiss his cheek, but he grabbed your face and kissed you. Both of your cheeks were still wet with tears, but you didn’t care. His lips were still chapped, but you didn’t care. It was a quick moment, maybe not even the most romantic, but you didn’t care. His hands stayed on your face, and you both kept eye contact.

“When this is all over, I owe you a date.” Izuku whispered, and you agreed.

The two of you walked down to join everyone else in the common room. Bakugo was glaring at you, waiting for confirmation, and took it as a sign when you held up your middle finger at him discreetly. There was also the fact Izuku hadn’t let go of your hand as he talked to everyone else. After you got to scold All Might for letting Izuku do this.. You and Izuku eventually ended up falling asleep together on the couch. His head resting against your chest, instantly soothed by the sound of your heartbeat. Your hand was in his hair, still gently playing with it before you slipped into an even deeper sleep.

“Should we move them to their beds?” Kirishima looked at the two of you tangled together on the couch. Todoroki shook his head, and put a blanket over you both.

“Nah, they’re not letting each other go anytime soon.” Bakugo defended you two, and he even took it upon himself to sleep on the other couch.. Just in case of course.

#deku midoriya #izuku my hero academia #izuku midoria x reader #izuku midoriya fluff #izuku Midoriya angst #izuku x you #mha shouto todoroki #mha deku #mha bakugou #my hero academia #bnha spoilers #bnha x reader #bnha season 6

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

Text

When You Love It

Happy Lowman & Daughter!OFC (Diedra Lowman)

Inspired by the quotes from This Post

Warnings: 18+, angst, blood, murder, implied/referenced physical assault

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: I have so many thoughts and feelings about these two, and about Diedra in general. I feel like I get in my own way trying to wait and think of some big overarching longfic for my ocs when really I should just get more comfortable writing down the ideas I have for them and posting them. If things end up connecting down the road, great! If not, that's great too! This is definitely more of an origin story type of thing lol. I was originally going to add more to this one-shot but I didn't want it to feel forced so I just left it as-is. Hopefully there will be more Lowman Sister stuff in the future!

SOA Taglist: @withmyteeth @garbinge @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @meadowofsinfulthoughts @i-just-read-stuff @bport76 @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @nessamc @passionatewrites (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She still remembered the first time that she had to help patch Happy up. It wasn’t the type of thing that someone forgot, even though she was young when it happened. Despite the fact that she was only eleven at the time, even so many years later she could still vividly remember the sound of the front door slamming shut in the middle of the night. It had been loud enough to stir her from her sleep, but not her younger sister, who was still peacefully slumbering on the opposite side of the room.

She’d tip-toed out of their room and down the hall until she reached the staircase. She could hear heavy footfalls and the clattering of things in the kitchen. She assumed that it was her dad, but there was no way to be sure unless she went downstairs and checked it out for herself. And what if she was wrong? He always told her not to put herself into situations that she wouldn’t be able to get herself out of.

The footsteps got louder and she gasped as she went to turn and scramble back to her room. She didn’t even make it so that she was standing all the way upright before she heard his tired, currently strained voice from the bottom of the staircase.

“Di? That you?”

She stopped in her tracks, feeling nervous as she descended a few of the stairs. Her bare feet made almost no sound as she stepped, unlike her father’s. Her voice came out as a timid whisper, afraid that she was going to get in trouble for being up so late, for sneaking around the house. “Yes.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he leaned against the banister at the bottom of the stairs. Reaching over, he flipped the switch that turned on the singular light that hung over the staircase. He ignored the wide-eyed look that he got from his daughter when she saw the shape he was in.

“You know where I keep the first aid kit?” he asked her.

She nodded, and shot right back up the stairs without another word. She all but ran down the hall to the bathroom. Kneeling down, she opened the doors to the cabinet underneath their sink and grabbed the red and white plastic box that was sitting there with various other bottles of soap and other miscellaneous items. She tucked it underneath her arm before shutting the cabinet and making her way back towards the stairs.

When she reached the stairs, he wasn’t there anymore. She watched her step as she tried to go as quickly as possible down the hardwood steps without slipping and falling. When she reached the bottom and rounded the corner, she saw him sitting in his recliner. He was leaned back, practically disappearing into it in the darkness. His eyes were closed, his breathing steady. There was the same frown on his face that she had gotten so accustomed to.

He didn’t open his eyes when she stopped in front of him. She waited for a few seconds, and when he didn’t move or say anything, she cleared her throat to get his attention. His expression didn’t change except for the fact that he opened his eyes. She held out the kit to him.

“Here.” Her voice was still soft, still scared.

He groaned slightly as he sat upright. “Gonna need your help.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Grandma’s been teaching you and your sister to sew, right?”

She gave a slow nod. “I’m not good at it, though.”

“You’re good enough.”

She knew better than to argue, so she just nodded. Unsure of what she was supposed to do now, she stood there and watched as he slowly shrugged his kutte off his shoulders and draped it over the arm of the recliner. Next, he reached, both hands gripping the collar of his t-shirt before he pulled it off over his head. The tiniest groan managed to get past his gritted teeth as he slipped the blood-stained fabric off and dropped it to the floor.

If Diedra had looked startled at the cuts on his face, the gash going across the left side of his abdomen left her frozen. Her hands trembled as she clutched the first aid kid. In the back of his mind, Happy knew that it wasn’t right or fair to put this on her, but he didn’t have much of another option at this point. He wasn’t going to his mom, not with this. And hospitals were out of the question. So, here he was, relying on his young daughter’s rudimentary sewing skills to patch him up.

“Go turn the light on,” he nodded towards the switch for the living room.

“What if I—”

“It’s gonna be fine.” He didn’t quite snap, but there was more of an edge to his voice than there usually was. He knew it was the pain that was making him sound that way. He just hoped that his daughter knew it too.

Diedra did as he asked, scurrying over to switch on the light before walking back over. She stared where his skin was torn—the bleeding still hadn’t stopped. She hadn’t even opened the first aid kit yet. Her hands were still trembling a fair amount as she stared at him.

“You’re still bleeding,” she said softly.

“It’ll stop,” he said matter-of-factly.

He leaned, ignoring the pain in his side as he did, so that he could reach and open the first aid kit. He grabbed the medical wipes and hastily cleaned the area by the wound. He cleaned it up enough so that Diedra would be able to stitch it with relative ease. She was right in saying that he was still bleeding, but the bleeding had slowed down considerably since it happened.

“Dad, I—”

“Please, Di.”

He laid down on the couch and Diedra sat down on the edge of the coffee table, the open first aid kit sitting in her lap. He gave her step-by-step instructions, trying to be as reassuring as he could manage given the circumstances. He was thankful that she probably had too much on her mind to look at or think about the numerous smiley faces tattooed into his opposite side. He tried not to think too much about what he was doing to her, the little girl sitting there in her oversized pajama t-shirt and pants that were covered in horses. Her hair was still messy from sleep, her eyes somehow simultaneously tired and frantic. This wasn’t the job for a child but there she was anyway.

She had tears in her eyes the whole time, her fingers fumbling every so often, but she kept on trying to muddle through. Happy nodded in approval and grit his teeth through the pain as she worked. No matter how long it took, it was still better than bleed out, and it was better than sitting in a jail cell.

“Alright,” he nodded back towards the kit when she had finally finished sewing him back together, “now just get the scissors and cut it.”

Her fingers trembled as she made the final cut. Happy’s head dropped back against the couch cushion as he let out a sigh of relief. His arm dangled off the edge of the couch, fingers brushing against the hardwood floor. He was staring silently up at the ceiling as his daughter sat there staring at him.

“What happened?” she asked as she stared at her handiwork.

“Got into a fight.”

“With who?” There was a slight tremor to her voice, like she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be asking him that question. That was one of the rules—no questions about dad’s work or about dad’s club.

“Bad guys,” he answered shortly. He didn’t say anything else for a minute but he felt her staring at him. Turning his head to look at her, he said, “Go put the kit away and get back to sleep.”

“Dad—”

“Go to bed, Di,” his voice was firmer this time. “Try not to wake up your sister.”

Her voice was quiet, defeated, “O-okay.”

He watched as she closed the kit and started to head back to the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, he spoke up again. “Hey.” He waited for her to look over at him, exhaustion and fear etched into her innocent little face. “Thanks, kid.”

She didn’t sound any more reassured or confident than before as she said, “You’re welcome.”

She went to the bathroom to put the first aid kit away. She tucked it back underneath the sink the exact same way that she’d found it. Standing back up, she turned the hot water on in the sink so that she could wash her hands. She scrubbed hard, trying to get all of her father’s blood off of her palms and fingertips. She didn’t even understand how it had gotten onto the backs of her hands too, but it did. She kept applying more soap and scrubbing over and over again until the water ran clear, until her tanned skin was free of any red.

When she got back to the bedroom that she shared with her little sister, she didn’t know if she wanted to go inside. She didn’t know what else to do, though. So, she quietly stepped past the threshold and padded quietly over to her sister’s bed. Her baby sister could sleep through anything, so she hardly stirred at all as Diedra scrambled into bed next to her, pulling the blanket up over both of them before trying to go back to sleep.

She also remembered the first time Happy had needed to help patch her up. She was fifteen, and by that point it had been about five years of her playing emergency doctor for her father whenever he got too banged up doing whatever it was that he did for the club, the number of smiley faces on his side steadily increasing but neither of them said anything about it. They still weren’t allowed to ask questions, but Diedra knew a little more than her sister. It was only fair since she was the one mastering the use of the first aid kit. Her stitching had gotten a lot better since that first night, although Happy still had the messy scar on his abdomen from the first one, a scar that he hadn’t gotten tatted over.

But now he was the one who needed to help Diedra with her mess. When he got the call, the thought crossed his mind that maybe if he hadn’t put so much on her over the years, that she would have normal teenage girl problems. He’d wondered over the last year or so if it was going to be a problem. The few fights that she’d gotten into at school always getting more out of hand than they would for a typical fourteen or fifteen-year-old girl. Sure, Happy taught both of his girls how to keep themselves safe if they had to, but these had been more than that. He wondered if it had been his fault.

Then, as he listened to the shake in Diedra’s voice as she spoke to him via the payphone she walked by every day on her way home from school, he couldn’t help but to think that it was too late for him to fix any of it.

“I don’t know what to do,” she told him honestly.

He didn’t have to see her to know that she was crying. “Stay put. I’ll be there soon.”

“Dad, I’m not, I can’t,” she tried to get a sentence out, “People can’t see me like this.”

His brain was running at a mile a minute as he tried to figure out what to tell her. He didn’t know what she looked like, but she was smart, smart enough that he knew that she wasn’t worrying for nothing.

“Go to the bathroom behind the gas station. I’ll be there in ten.”

“What if—”

“Don’t open the door.”

For a split second, she had the same soft, scared voice of the eleven-year-old girl who had to stitch up her father’s stab wound in the middle of the night. “Okay.”

Happy tore down the streets on his bike. Speed limits and cops be damned, no one was going to slow him down now. He practically skidded to a stop in front of the bathroom door. Tearing his helmet off, he jumped off the bike and quickly strode over to the door. He jimmied the handle and found it locked. He let out a sigh of relief at that before knocking.

“It’s me.”

Seconds later the door unlocked from inside. Diedra pulled the door open a crack. Her eyes were red and watery, her ponytail almost completely fallen out with her hair sticking out in multiple directions. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to fix it as she paced inside the cramped, smelly, gas station bathroom.

Happy pressed his hand against the door to push it farther. “Open up. It’s just me.”

She did as he said. Pulling the door open farther, Happy was able to really see her. And he immediately understood why she didn’t want anyone else to see her. The white tank top that she had on had rusty red smears all over, splatter marks across her chest. There were a few flecks of blood on her face, too, along with tearstains. The most concerning thing, though, was the bruising that he could see around her throat. It took all of a split second for him to know that the bruises would match up with the shape of someone’s hands.

“What happened?” he asked.

She sniffled, shaking her head. “I don’t…I don’t…”

“Where are they?”

She nodded in the direction that she’d come from. “Back there. I don’t…I don’t think he’s…”

Happy didn’t say anything to her in response to that. Turning around, he went and grabbed a sweatshirt from the bag on his bike. It was old and ratty, but it would cover up the blood-stained tank top that she was wearing. He held it out to her without saying anything, and she took it from him silently as well. She pulled it over her head, letting the hood stay flipped up. When her hands came out the bottom of the sleeves, he saw the blood all over them, too.

“Any of it yours?” he asked her. She shook her head but wasn’t able to verbalize an answer. That was enough for Happy, though. He pulled his phone from his kutte and quickly dialed. He held it to his ear, not taking his eyes off of Diedra as the phone rang. The second there was an answer on the other end of the line, he started talking. “Hey, Mom. I need you to get Kota. Yea, she’s at the house.” He paused, waiting for the questions to stop. “No, I’ve got Di. We’re fine. Yea. I’ll get her tomorrow. Love you.” He snapped the phone shut before shoving it back into his kutte again. “Let’s get you home.”

“What about—”

“I’ll take care of it. Come on.” He reached, taking her by the elbow, his grip simultaneously firm and gentle as he brought her back to his bike.

He reached up, pushing the hood back down off her head. He grabbed his helmet, putting it on her and tightening the strap on it before clipping it beneath her chin. Neither of them said anything as they looked at each other. He was trying to figure out if she was on the brink of losing it, and she was looking at him hoping that he would give her any kind of reassurance that she was going to be okay.

Without another word, he climbed back onto his bike and motioned for him to get on behind him. She did, her arms wrapping around him. He couldn’t help but to notice that she was squeezing herself much tighter to him than she usually did. Both his kids were comfortable on the back of a bike—it was just the nature of being his daughters. But he could feel the extra layer of fear between them.

The first thing he said to her when they walked through the door was, “You need to go shower.”

She sniffled, nodding as she wiped at her eyes. “Right.” She felt the way her tank top was stuck to her skin, still tacky with blood. “What about my…” her voice trailed off as she pulled at the fabric of the hoodie.

“I’ll get rid of them.” He paused. “Toss them outside the bathroom door before you get in the shower.”

“Okay.”

He nodded towards the stairs. “Go. I’ll be back before you’re done.”

“You’re leaving?” panic saturated her voice.

“Just to clean up. Then I’ll be back.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Before you’re done. Promise.”

She didn’t have anything left in her to fight about it, so she just nodded and made her way up the stairs. Happy watched until she was out of sight, and only then did he sigh, his shoulders sagging in defeat. They would talk about it when he got back. Until then, his mind was just going to race with all of the worst-case scenarios. It wasn’t the time to push her about it, though. Right now, the main concern for both of them was cleaning up.

The second he heard the shower start, he went back out of the house and immediately made his way for the pickup truck. He jumped in and peeled out of his driveway, right back the way that they’d just come on the bike. There was no guarantee that the guy was dead, that he would still be there, that the cops or some random bystander hadn’t already come across him. But judging by the state that Diedra was in, wherever the two of them were, it hadn’t been a high-traffic area.

He would do the real work, the actual cleanup, tomorrow. But he cleaned the mess up enough to buy him enough time to spend the night at home with his daughter. He knew how to get rid of bodies. The rest of this mess, though, that was new territory for him.

True to his word, he was back before she’d stepped out of the bathroom. The water wasn’t running anymore, but the bloody clothes were still in a heap outside the bathroom door. Happy grabbed them, immediately heading towards the back yard, for the fire pit.

He was poking what little was left of the charred fabric with a stick, mixing it with the branches and lawn clippings that were also in the fire pit with it. Diedra silently materialized beside him, wearing a pair of her own sweatpants but still wearing the sweatshirt that Happy had given her earlier. Her hair was just dry enough to not be dripping, the long waves coming over her shoulders and peeking out from under the hood that she had flipped up. He could still see the bruises through her damp locks of hair. He knew that she could still feel them, too.

Her eyes were fixed on the flames when Happy turned to look at her. He studied her face intently, but he couldn’t get much from her expression. Moments like that reminded him how much Lowman she really had in her. It was harder to see with her sister—she took more after their mother which was a different kind of heartbreak. But Diedra seemed like she was more than just 50% Happy. Maybe it was because he had been pulling her into the mess of the other side of his life for years now. But as she stood there, glassy-eyed but otherwise stone-faced, it felt like they could’ve almost been the same person.

“What’d you do with him?” she finally asked, still not looking at him as she tucked her hands into the pocket that went across the front of Happy’s sweatshirt.

“Took care of it.”

“That easy?” she asked, her voice weak.

“More to do tomorrow,” he told her honestly. “But for now, it’s taken care of.” He waited for her to ask or say something else. When she didn’t, he said, “Your turn.”

She turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised slightly but she didn’t say a word. He could see the confusion on her face at his statement.

“What’d you do with him?” he rephrased.

Her scoff turned into a sob, a sound that sent a shot of pain through her as it rattled against the inside of her bruised throat. “You saw.”

“You gonna tell me what happened?” He saw her bottom lip start to quiver. “You know who he was?”

She shrugged and shook her head. “Not,” she wiped at her eyes, “not really. He was always around when I would walk home from school. He’d say weird shit to me sometimes.”

“Your sister ever see him?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know. He only ever said anything to me when I was alone, though. I never…I never said anything back to him. Even when I wanted to tell him to just—" she stopped herself as she shook her head.

“What happened?”

She was watching the last of her tank top and jeans finally crumble into nothing but ashes. “He came up to me. Followed me. I was, I was ignoring him the way I always did. Then he grabbed me, pulled me into that alley. He was gonna try to—” she sobbed, unable to finish the sentence.

Happy was already seeing red, fighting to keep what little composure he still had for the sake of his daughter. “What did he do, Di?”

She shook her head, angrily wiping at the tears on her face. “Nothing. I mean, he, you know,” she motioned towards her neck, “but nothing else. He didn’t get the chance to.” She dragged her hands down her face. “I keep that knife on me. The one you gave me—tuck it on the inside of my jeans like you told me. I forgot about it at first, because of everything. But then, when I thought I was gonna…” her voice trailed off for a moment, “I remembered.”

“Anyone around?” He was asking for her sake as much as his own. He didn’t want anyone to have seen her. No witnesses was better because of how it’d played out. But if someone had seen what happened and didn’t step in, didn’t say anything, there was going to be more than just one body for Happy to take care of the next day.

“I don’t think so. The way I walk home is usually pretty dead. That’s why I go that way.” She paused, finally turning so that she was looking Happy in the eyes. “What are you going to do with him?”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Dad…” She stared at him until he leveled with her gaze again. “What are you going to do?”

He nodded towards the fire. “Same thing I did with your clothes. Burn him. Bury whatever is left when it’s done.”

“Where?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I ki—” she couldn’t force the word out, so she rerouted, “I did this. You need to tell me.”

He mulled that over for a long time. He was just trying to protect her, although it felt too late to try and do that now. It felt like he’d already failed. He didn’t want to pull her even deeper into it though—she’d been through enough. But, if he had been in her position, he would want to know too. The problem was, that he didn’t want her to be him. He wanted her to be different, better.

“Do you want to go with me?” he asked against all better judgment. He saw the way Di froze, thinking over her answer. “We can go tonight after it gets dark.”

“Okay,” she said with a nod, her voice not sounding as small as it had before.

It was pitch black in the woods except for the warm light being given off by the flames in the shallow grave that Happy and Di were standing next to. Diedra was still in her sweatpants and Happy’s hoodie. Happy had left his kutte at home, opting for a plain black sweatshirt instead. They each stood there, watching the flames with their hands shoved into their pockets. Neither of them had said anything the entire time, not since they got into his pickup truck at the house.

“What now?” Di asked, speaking just loud enough over the crackling of the flames.

“Wait for it to burn out. Fill it back in and—”

“No,” she cut him off, “I mean, what do we do now?” She finally turned and looked at him, tearstains on her cheeks contrasting the hardened look in her eyes.

“Everything is gonna be the same,” Happy said, tone as neutral as it had ever been, “but it’s all gonna feel different.”

“Worse?”

“Different.”

She nodded, accepting that answer for the time being. She sighed, tucking her chin down towards her chest. If they’d been different people, Happy would’ve draped his arm around her and pulled her close. She would’ve folded into him and cried. However, they weren’t different people. Happy took a half-step closer to her so that the outside of his arm was pressed against the outside of hers, giving her a barely-perceptible nudge, a gesture that she returned.

Neither of them said anything else after that, not for the whole ride home. It wasn’t until they were getting ready to head to bed, not that either of them were going to sleep, that Happy spoke up and said something. He asked if she wanted to spend the night somewhere else, and when she said no, he kissed her forehead, said I love you, and sent her off to bed.

Since she couldn’t sleep that night, Di stayed up until the grey light of dawn started peeking through her bedroom window, giving herself a small, scratchy stick-n-poke tattoo on her hip in the shape of a smiley face.

#sons of anarchy #soa #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #happy lowman #happy lowman fanfiction #oc diedra lowman #oc diedra #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #happy lowman

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Text

Keys in Your Ignition, Part 10

Summary: Time with the Everett’s

Pairings: Curtis X Reader, Curtis X Steve

Rating: mature

Warnings: explicit language, mentions of a car crash, mentions of mental health, unhealthy sex talk, depictions of depression, arson, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.1K

Series Masterlist

*Dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Here, sweetie,” Curtis’ mom leans over you offering some tea. “Drink it, I promise, it’s good,” groggily you sit up from the couch. Almost forgetting you were here, and one look over at the chair Curtis had been sitting on, you realize now, you’re alone.

“He had some business to attend to,” she answers quickly. Giving you a smile when you stretch out. Sore in ways you never thought you would be. “I heard about your father. Curtis said he was difficult.”

“That’s news. Everyone keeps telling me about what a good man he was.”

“Hmm,” she pushes a tray of waffles, fruit and bacon towards you. “Help yourself.”

You are in fact starving, can’t even remember when you last ate. You load down a plate and settle back on the couch, thanking the woman.

“Curtis tells me he was a fierce leader, but a terrible father.”

“Curtis says a lot.”

“Tara. That’s my name.”

“When is he coming back?” her waffles were amazing, and you can’t help but to stuff another large bite in your mouth.

“Dinner time I suppose. His father is out of town helping my other son move in. Curtis and him don’t get along. You know. You remind me of my daughter,” you swallow a big bite and smile. “She let a toxic love get the best of her. They got in a car wreck, my baby girl…she’s not suffering from him anymore.”

“It’s not toxic.”

“Maybe because you’re the toxic one? I heard enough. Tell me about Ari,” you drink a bit of your tea, shrugging your shoulders. “Do you love him?”

“No. I can’t love. It’s broken,” standing up, she joins you on the couch, making her own plate.

“Losing a daughter doesn’t make that part of you broken. I still love my sons so much. Proud of them in different ways. Hayden is following in his dad’s footsteps. Curtis is carving his own path. But he’s empathetic, compassionate, jovial, even if you don’t see that giggly side of him. When Jessie died, I thought my world had ended. She was this bright sunny thing. Always laughing and smiling. Always getting her brothers into their own round of giggles. She loved them. Little sister to one, big sister to the other. I watched her light fade dimmer everyday she was with that man. The same light Curtis saw in you, but she let hers flicker out. With the right lighter, the flame can burn bright again.”

“I told you, I can’t love.”

“Why does a man have to bring you happiness?” you cut your eyes over at her, your vision going blurry, and you’re unsure what was bringing on these tears. “In order to love someone else, we have to love ourselves. We have to forgive ourselves, because life is about mistakes. You just have to start learning from those mistakes. Have you ever been in love?”

You nod your head at her, meekly saying yeah. “Tell me about him. What was his name?”

“Everyone calls him Bucky. I call him JB.”

“What made you fall in love?”

You stare out into the distance remembering when you saw Bucky for the attractive man he was. “He saw me. He paid attention to me. I’d fall, and he’d run to help me up. I was missing from the club, and he’d go searching for me. Not because someone told him to, but because he missed me. He taught me how to ride a motorcycle, when my dad told me I was too pretty to ride. With JB there was just me.”

“What happened?”

You take another drink of tea when you feel your throat closing in on itself. Your chest heating up and tight. “I asked him to teach me other things.”

“The sexual kind?”

“Yeah. He was my first. He’s my brother’s best friend, so it was forbidden. We built us this shack in the woods. It didn’t have much, just a mattress. But it was our own. He taught me everything. You know, accidents happen. And I ended up pregnant. Long story short…our baby didn’t make it.”

“You wanted the baby?” her hand drifts to your thigh, and shocking yourself, you lean over on her shoulder.

“I always wanted to be a mom. I never really had one. We were gonna have a girl. She was beautiful. Perfect. I just wanted my daughter to have the life I didn’t have. And JB, he was too scared to say anything. Had excuses on when we should tell my family, and then…it didn’t matter. He held me in our shack, and I cried all night. Into the day, and then it hit me, that he never was going to come clean. He didn’t want what I wanted. I got up and left. I couldn’t let him go completely. I’d find a boyfriend that I just used for sex, but I always went back to JB.”

“Why was Ari different?” you shrug on her shoulder. Tara reaches over to the table, and hands you a tissue. “Your dad’s best friend?” with a nod, she pets around your hair, “it’s a bit of a pattern. Your brother’s best friend, then your dad’s. Is the attention you were really seeking from them or your family? You wanted them to make a possible sacrifice and tell their friends? JB didn’t.”

You shake your head no, “He just told Steve. Right before, before Steve left me.”

“Okay, he tells your brother after your dad died, and Ari never got a chance. I don’t think you’re weird. We can’t help who we’re attracted to, but I don’t think Ari was an accident.”

“He’s got a kid. He’s only seven years younger than me. He doesn’t want kids. I don’t need them anyway,” this was always the line you told yourself. It was easier to tell yourself you didn’t need them.

“You don’t need them right now. Right now you need a mix of good love, and tough love. That with Ari, is no good. I saw your bruises.”

“It was impact play,” you go move off of her, and she allows you to. The two of you sit in silence for a moment, and your eyes wander around this room. Pictures of the family of five scattered all around. And you smile at how attentive Curtis seems with his younger siblings.

“Did you enjoy it?” you shrug your shoulders. “Are you afraid to tell Ari?”

“I test him. He doesn’t have a choice.”

“We always have a choice. He doesn’t realize you’re testing him for attention. It’s like a spoiled child. They don’t care if the attention is negative or not,” now why did she call you a spoiled child. You cross your arms over you chest and pout. “I get it. He wasn’t a father to his son, so now he’s making a point to do that with you.”

“I’m not a brat.”

“Then don’t act like one. You grew up without a proper mother, and it shows. Ari is not your daddy. You don’t have to push that need to have his attention on to Ari.”

“Gross. I don’t want to have sex with my dad.”

She giggles, and even gets a chuckle out of you, “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that you have wanted your dad’s attention. You’ve acted out in the club, and Ari is the only one who gave you that attention. You liked it at first. But the worse you feel about yourself, the harder you need something more. Got sloppy with hiding the relationship, hoping your father would catch you. Spoiled children do not care what type of attention they get, they just want it. Willing to endure punishment because it means their parent, in your case, daddy cares. But Ari only fills that void for a moment. You say you don’t love him, and in some way he loves you. You just test your boundaries, and then he hurts you. It’s a cycle, and eventually you’re going to push that man too far. Does he know about Bucky?”

“Yeah. He knows I cheat on him with Bucky, too.”

“Sweetie…”

“I wasn’t with anyone. I can fuck whoever I want.”

“Does Ari think you’re with him though?”

“He calls me his old lady. I’m twenty-two years younger than him. I’m not old. I’m not a lady. And I don’t like his rules and his lies! I didn’t know he had a kid. Didn’t know he couldn’t have anymore.”

“Sweetie, do you want to be with Ari?” you shake your head no.

“But I don’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not,” you lift your head up, looking at her. Her eyes bright and kind like Curtis’. “You’ve got people who care about you. Curtis wants nothing from you. He cares about you. Got you here and away from the storm that’s brewing in that club. Some of it is your fault, and you’re going to have to take responsibility for that. But we all do stupid things when we’re not of sound mind. Do you love Bucky?”

“I do. I just don’t know if I could be with him.”

“All you gotta do is tell us, and we’ll get you out of the situation you’re in. I’m here to help, and if you need me to act as your surrogate mother, so you realize you’re not alone, I will. I can’t see another girl be destroyed by a man.”

Curtis’ hand beats on the door, and when Steve opens it, he tries to close it immediately. Curtis pushes past the door, and pushes Steve back into the apartment. “You want to ignore me? Fine. Now you can’t. What the fuck man?”

“What?”

“Wow. You know I thought you were just going through your own shit, but now, I think you just really don’t care. Do you even know half the shit your sister has gone through? She’s lost Steve.”

“She’s got Ari,” Curtis’ hands connect to Steve’s shoulders, and he pushes him hard onto the couch behind him. “She’s grown!”

“Barely. She’s twenty-three years old, and lost. She has basically begged for yours and your dad’s attention. And he’s dead, and you ran away,” he holds his phone out to Steve, letting him watch what he saw first hand. You screaming and kicking trying to go after him, but Ari drags your body back into the rooms. “You need each other. You’re all you have left. You don’t even see her. You don’t see what she’s been through.”

“What about me?”

“My god, y’all are both lost puppies. You got your dad’s attention. Doll got the old ladies, and every time she wanted to show your dad something, it was always, okay show Angel or Florence or Rose, daddy has to work. Meanwhile he’s searching for his next meaningless pussy. That was you, until you found someone worth being faithful to. He never gave her the attention she wanted. She wanted to do ballet, but she couldn’t because he had to buy you a bike, and you weren’t even licensed. She wanted to go to college, but she couldn’t because she had to work at the bar, and help with the family business. And you wonder why she fell in bed with bikers. Doll was meant for more than the club. Just,” his finger presses hard on Steve’s chest, “Like you. The difference is you got a way out, and took it. Leaving her with no fucking safe guard. Ari doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. Waiting on her to cheat on him I guess. Trying to be the father figure she wants, when he just wants a nice girl to come home too. Bucky is just as lost, man. He is so in love with your sister, but she needs out of that fucking club. She needs to heal if she even wants to think about entertaining a life with Bucky.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“And she’s your sister. If you paid any attention to her, you would have seen their romance happening. He couldn’t quit looking at her, and she couldn’t quit smiling. You’re so self absorbed Steve. But that’s what you were taught to be. The big man. Gets to go on runs with a bunch of sweet butts, knowing that his old lady would be waiting to take his cock when he got home. You want that for her? Ari has never done the faithful thing. Bucky either. Until her. She’s out currently. I got her someplace safe. But she’ll need somewhere with family.”

“It’s that bad?” Steve asks, finally looking up at Curtis. His eyes glassy, and he bites at his lip.

“Yeah. You two are too much like your mothers. You weren’t meant to have this as your life. Doll wants a white picket fence. She wants to go after her dreams, and Ari is going to keep her working in a fucking bar and taking him when he gets home. He’s a lifer. Just like Bucky.”

“I’m a mess, too.”

“You can be a mess together. She’s broken right now, Steve. My dad is a therapist. Mom’s been around it her whole life, and pretty much is a therapist, too. She’s talking to her. She’s being the mother that Venus never got to be. But Doll wants you. You’re her big brother,” Steve nods his head, his gaze looking back at the floor.

“Okay. Okay. I’m not what she needs either.”

“Good boy, you’ll figure it out,” Curtis winks. “Now, I’m gonna spend time with my little brother. While my dad is shopping for the right towels. Hayden is useless in that department.”

Curtis walks into his childhood home, watching his mother fold clothes, and he gives her an odd look. With a flick of her head into the living room, he walks quietly in there, and stops seeing you mix up a pink batter, “Tara, oh,” you say when you realize it’s Curtis in the doorway, “I thought you were Tara.”

“No, it’s just me. What cha need?”

“Well, this is just strawberry cake mix, but I thought it would be nice to add in some fresh strawberries. You know make it a bit more unique,” before you fully finish your thought he’s already walking to the fridge, grabbing out the strawberries, “So you think it’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I think it’s a great idea,” he gives you a kind smile handing over the strawberries, “Still don’t wanna fuck you.”

“Wasn’t offering,” you smart back going to cut up the berries. “I like your mom.”

“I like her, too. She’s a good one. You are, too.”

“Does…does anyone know where I am?” worried that it wouldn’t be long until Ari came looking for you. And right now, you just need space.

“Just Steve,” shocked, you turn to look at Curtis. Tears immediately fall past your lash line, and Curtis envelops you in a tight embrace. “He wants you to move in the city with him. Get away from the club. No one knows where he is either.”

“Curtis…I…it’s just…it’s soon. And I need to do something first.”

“We’ll go do it.”

“This still isn’t an invitation for you to fuck me.”

“Good, I don’t want to, Doll.”

“You sure about this?” Curtis dips his head in through the door looking around the small space. He turns, staring at you, while you’re blankly look at that mattress. You shake your head no in answer. Because you’re not really sure, but still there’s a calmness that surrounds your decision.

Shining a light around the shack, he points it at your chest, “You don’t have to do this. Who told you that you did?”

“No one. I wanted to do it after we lost Luna,” you hold out your hand, and he places his lighter in it.

“This is where you lost your virginity? There’s cobwebs.”

“They weren’t always there,” you laugh, flicking on the lighter, you go over to light the mattress on fire, and step back to hug Curtis. Watching as the flames take everything, but the memories. “It’s done.”

“What about Bucky?”

“This is best for the both of us,” you push Curtis off of you, and walk over to his bike. “I can’t love him, if I don’t work on myself. And I can’t love him with the love shack hanging over our heads. This is the past. I don’t know if I can ever love him again. I know that I need to love myself, and then maybe I’ll get there.”

“Mom’s pretty awesome, huh? Where we headed to, Doll?”

You take a deep breath as the fire spreads out. “The fire department will be here soon. Where we going?” you follow him as he heads for his bike, jumping on, before he lets you get on the back.

“Can we go back to your parents? Just for a bit longer,” he starts the bike, and heads in the direction of his parents’ house. Sirens wail in the distance, but you have never felt freer. Throwing your hands out wide, you let the wind wash off the rest, ready to take this journey away from everything you knew. It was best to not see Ari and Bucky at the moment.

There was a familial comfort at Curtis’ parents, mostly his mom. You didn’t realize how much you desired a motherly figure. “I’m stealing your mom,” you giggle when he pulls up to the house. “It’s just cozy here.”

“I’ll give her out on loan. You’re not keeping her. Come on, let’s get some of that strawberry cake. And it’s not an invitation into my bed.”

“Wait,” he stops to turn around and glare at you, feeling that you were going to go too far again. “Not sex.”

“You quit calling it fucking? That’s a start.”

“Can you just stay with me until I fall asleep? She’s letting me stay in Hayden’s old room. I’ll sleep on top of the covers. I promise. No sex. No shoving your hands on me. Just,” biting your lip, you look down at the ground, hands crossed over you chest, “Never mind.”

“No, use your words, and tell me what you’re feeling. Then allow me to respond and give you my boundaries.”

“I don’t want to be alone. This is hard for me. I’ve always bounced around to someone else’s bed. And sex was the only way I knew that would let them let me stay. Don’t make me guilt trip you, and say that I burned down mine and JB’s love shack.”

“That was your idea,” he laughs, bringing you close to him. “I’ll sleep on top of the covers. And I swear to you, if you try to shove my hands on you, we’re gonna have a problem.”

“I won’t. Not on purpose,” you squeal running up the front porch stairs.

“Doll Rogers! You get back out here!” playfully screaming at you while he runs in after you. His mom laughing at the two of you being goofy and carefree. She missed this side of her son, and you were becoming a different girl than the one Curtis first dropped off, it was like her second coming of Jessie, and she would protect you fiercely, in a way she couldn’t Jessie.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @peaches1958 @kaybaby2494 @flannellover67 @infatuatedjanes @redbloodedgurl @thedarknessilove @whimsyplaty92 @tryingtosurvivestuff @superforgottensoul

#keys in your ignition #curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x y/n #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x fem!reader #curtis everett fic #biker!curtis everett #biker au

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msookyspooky · 1 year

Text

@bitchyhorror

Hooker Clan is Forced to Share a Bed

(Shenanigans ensue + Caleb's Dad Never Found Him and This One Shot is close to the Movies Timeline. No word count. Not Proofread.)

They all waited around outside the run down motel, anxiously eyeing the sky.

"What's takin' Jesse so long?" Diamondback mumbled under her breath as she sat on a nearby trashbin.

Severen leaned against the wall, cigarette hanging out of his mouth as Homer bummed one off of him. He glared at Caleb as Severen lit it for him. "We wouldn't be so rushed if it wasn't for him."

Caleb sat on the curb next to Mae, turning to speak to them with a huff. "I didn't mean to, Homer." As Mae protectively wrapped an arm around his back.

Severen pocketed his lighter and threw his cigarette on the ground; grinding it with his bootheel. "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to be such a pussy. I didn't mean to almost get us arrested so close to sunrise. I DiDn'T mEaN To!" Severen mocked in a whiny voice before pointing at him with narrowed eyes. "Because of yer damn hesitatin' bullshit; we had to forfeit our fuckin' wheels and probably have a man hunt on our heads ALL a half an hour before sunrise."

Caleb scoffed. "That happened hours ago!"

Severen acted like he was going to go over and DB grabbed his jacket sleeve and yanked him back. "Don't you fuckin' sass me, boy! We had to WALK all these hours too, now didn't we?!"

"I think my shoes have a hole in them now from walkin' MILES tonight. All because he's too much of a wuss to make kills!" Homer grumbled.

"I'm sorry, alright?! I didn't think I had the right time to kill em! I didn't want to get us caught!"

Severen released an outraged, sarcastic laugh as Homer practically growled at Caleb for the comment.

DB shook her head. "Well now, isn't that ironic? It's always the right time. You make the kill and you make it fast. Because you hesitated tonight; someone called the law on us quicker than we could spit."

"Guys, just leave him alone." Mae mumbled, holding onto him as she spoke. "He's killed before he's just learning! We got our stuff, we got away. That's what's important."

"What's important is the sun comin' up!" Homer spat.

"Well, how about instead of fear mongerin' ya'll relax? Stressing out and pointing fingers ain't gonna make the sun come up any slower." She rubbed Caleb's arm. "Besides, we've went through worse."

A huff sounded behind her as she stared at Severen. "Twenty bullet holes later and a new bounty on our heads in this State. First time in decades after everyone died out or forgot the last one. Having t' escape out the back of that shithole bar. Camper surrounded by pig wagons." Severen grumbled, spitting on the ground and pushing his hair away from his face. "Had to break in a window just to grab our shit."

Mae rolled her eyes. "I thought you of all people here liked danger, Severen."

"That ain't the problem, Mae." Severen retorted. "Okay, it ain't the fact I had to dodge some fatass cops. It ain't walkin all this way. It ain't even missing some junk I had to leave behind." He walked over and leaned over to glare at Caleb specifically. "It's the fact this walkin' talkin' shitstain keeps being nothin' but dead weight draggin' us all down." He kicked Caleb with his boot as he walked away to pace, eyeing the sky looking a lighter dark blue now.

DB added. "Severen's right, Mae. It ain't what we had to do tonight but why we had to do it...Now, the sun's comin' up and you better hope not a single cop got a good enough look at Severen to track us down. Not while we're at a disadvantage...Again." She gave, a tense expression to Caleb then towards the sky as the slightest light blue color just got lighter on the horizon.

Homer furiously shook his head with a whimper, rushing over to DB as she brushed his hair from his face. Holding him close and shushing him.

Severen suddenly marched over and pluck Caleb from the ground by his jacket. Hissing as he shoved Caleb against a pillar.

"Severen, don't!" Mae begged, standing up and grabbing Severen's arm.

"Should just leave you out in the sun to bake whether we get a room or not! We've gave you chance after chance boy and the only thing you did worth a damn was the van incident over a week ago...I'm thinkin' I need to take my spur back and shove it down yer damn throat!" He barred his teeth as Mae grabbed his arm and yanked it off her boyfriend.

"He's tryin', okay!" Mae exclaimed. "He drank the blood he just fumbled this one kill!"

He turned to grab Caleb again before Jesse's voice ran out to them. "Enough of that, Severen. Don't get too riled up and lose the time."

Everyone looked to see Jesse near the door with a displeased expression on his face. DB hopped off the trash bin and led Homer with her. Severen dropped Caleb on the ground like a sack of potatoes as Caleb groaned and jerked his jacket back in place, Mae instantly rushing to help him up.

"Took you long enough, Jess." Severen griped as he walked to the door.

"Yeah well...It's gonna be a long day. I'd rather not have Mae cryin' through it. As much as it'd be deserved who she's cryin' for." He muttered, eyeing Caleb as the sky behind them turned a light pink.

Homer shoved into the building while Severen hauled their bags and followed. DB stood outside a moment as Jesse opened the door for her. "What's the matter?" She asked.

He sighed. "Damn motels are gettin harder to get. Ran out of rooms so...We had to compromise."

"Compromise?" He just put a hand on her shoulder and led her in before calling out to Caleb and Mae.

"If you don't wanna burst into flames; I'd say you got 5 minutes or less to get yer asses in here."

Caleb frowned but nodded as he and Mae walked their way to the door. Jesse gave Caleb a glare as he walked in behind them and Caleb just kept his head down.

They made it to the room and Severen sat all their stuff down with a perplexed look. Homer was already in the bathroom and yelling about something when everyone else walked in.

"...Jess?"

"Yeah, Severen?"

Severen rubbed the back of his neck with a disbelieving smirk. Clearly close to losing his shit after tonight. "Uh, there's one bed. Why the fuck is there one damn bed?? And no chairs? Where the Hell is the furniture???"

"THERE'S NO TUB!!" Homer yelled from the bathroom before rushing out, demanding an explanation. "There's no tub just a floor and a drain! Why, Old Man?!"

"Compromise." Jesse sighed out. "Only room left was half the price. It's being renovated into a honeymoon suite with only one King. They haven't installed the big tub yet."

"Oh well, half price!" Severen sarcastically laughed out as he sat on it, slumping as the hours passing by instantly started zaping their energy.

Mae's eyes darted to everyone. "W-Well. We're tired, we gotta sleep."

DB gave Severen a raised brow and Severen groaned and flopped on the end of the bed.

Caleb huffed as he got closer. "We gotta share a bed?...All of us?"

Severen kicked him away. "You can sleep on the floor like a dog for all the shit you put us through tonight."

Mae held onto Caleb's arm and glared at Severen. "Then we'll sleep on the floor together."

"Of course you will...Move over." Homer griped before making a running leap and flopping next to Severen laying horizontal on the bed.

Caleb looked at them with a frown as Mae led him to sleep on the ground with her near the bed. Using one of the bags as a pillow and Caleb's Jacket as a blanket.

DB and Jesse took the head of the bed, Jesse at the headboard and DB in-between him and Homer. Everyone tried settling in as the sun was probably visible in the sky by now if anyone had checked.

Time passed before Homer shoved at Severen. "Move your arm off my space, Clydesdale!"

Severen jerked, elbowing Homer in the side. "Aw sorry there, lil buddy. I thought pocket sized meant you didn't need all that space?"

Homer jerked up and aggressively fluffed his pillow before he tossed himself back down to face DB instead.

DB got comfortable next to Jesse but Jesse moved his arm and accidentally hit Homer right in the face with the back of his hand. Homer shoved it away.

Just when everything seemed fine about an hour passed and all hell broke lose waking everyone up when Homer smacked Severen right on the forehead. Severen's snoring was cut off as he jerked awake and sat up to glare daggers at Homer.

"Wha...Hey! Why the fuck did ya do that for, ya lil boner?!"

"You're BREATHING your hot ass breath in my face while snoring like a timber saw! I can't sleep!"

"Hommeerrrr." Jesse growled out in a warning, half asleep and groggy.

Severen didn't even hesitate to rip the pillow out from under Homer's head. "Maybe I'd snore less if I was elevated; why are you the one with a pillow, Precious?" He mocked with a sneer.

Severen laid down with it, fluffing it and reclining with a smirk. "Now THAT is better."

Homer's eye twitched before he grabbed that pillow out from under Severen's head and tried shoving it across his face. Holding it down with his weight and superhuman strength as Severen's body tensed up and he tried reaching for Homer's neck.

"Stop it, stop it, stop it." DB scolded, grabbing Homer by the shoulder and jerking him off before shoving Severen back down when he went to retaliate. "Now, we're all gonna sleep. Alright?"

Homer and Severen glared at each other as they laid back down but Homer yanked his pillow back from Severen and slept the opposite way; his legs near Severen's head and his head near Severen's legs.

It wasn't long before Homer shoved at Severen's legs in irritation and Severen kneed him in the head as the bed rocked and they both shoved each other away.

Jesse shot up. "Severen! If you don't stop yer goddamn shit-"

Severen sat up and motioned to Homer. "It ain't me! Jess, yer not plum up against Homer while trying not to fall off the end of the bed!"

"....Oh for godsakes- FINE. Me and Diamondback will take the middle of the bed and Homer takes the end."

Homer scoffed loudly. "Why do I get the end?!"

Jesse gave Homer a tired glare and Homer relented. Grumbling the entire time as Severen got up and he slid into Severen's spot. Everyone moved down as Severen got the headboard.

"What's all that racket?" Mae tiredly asked from the floor as DB answered. "Nothin'. Everyone go back to sleep."

Time went on of everyone laying there, trying to get comfortable. It seemed like they finally found something that worked until a huge thud was sounded throughout the room followed by curses.

"What in the goddamn hell?-" Jesse grumbled as everyone got woken up by Homer cursing.

Homer shot up from the floor with a loud, irritated groan. "This is stupid!"

"No ones fault but yer own, Homer." Severen mumbled with his eyes still closed. "As usual."

Caleb and Mae woke up to see Homer march over to Severen and try to shove him off. "Move! I'm not sleeping on the end!"

"Well I'm not either, kid!"

"ENOUGH!" Jesse yelled, slamming his first on the bed as he got up to stand. "Since you two wanna act like a bunch of ingrates; I'll take the end with Severen. Diamondback will sleep vertical with Homer at the headboard. Got it?!"

Caleb watched something snap in Homer as he grabbed Severen to hit him as Severen tossed him off onto the floor. "I told you never call me that!"

Everyone silently glared at each other but relented, Severen being the first to roll his eyes with a sigh and get up. Everyone got into their position, Homer going to sleep above Jesse as he and DB dangled their shorter legs to either side of the bed while Jesse and Severen laid horizontally across the bottom opposite each other.

It was a restless day as everyone seemed to wake up early, groaning and uncomfortable. Homer woke up half off the bed, Jesse woke up with Homer's leg over his chest and Severen woke up with DB knees on his shoulder and DB half off the bed herself.

Jesse gave a tired look and shoved Homer's legs off while DB stretched and got off Severen. "Sorry." She mouthed to Severen as he sighed and sat up, rubbing his eye with a groan. "Don't matter none. I think we all slept like shit...Still beats being woken up by the feds at yer door."

Homer groaned with a stretch and nodded.

They all sat up to see Caleb and Mae already up and chipper. Mae smiled at Caleb. "Who knew the floor could be so comfortable?"

Caleb laughed and kissed her forehead. "Better with you."

All while everyone gave them tired glares.

#near dark mae #near dark severen #near dark jesse #near dark 1987 #near dark one shot #near dark oneshot #near dark imagine #near dark imagines #near dark diamondback #near dark homer

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coolcattime · 1 year

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heyyy coolcat! I’ve had this story concept sitting on a back burner and I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever get around to writing it but who knows maybe. I wanted to share it with you, cause I think you’ll like it, also it's my second time sending it cause my internet is being weird

A mishap with the priest nether portal sends Mot to the nether, but Spark in an attempt to go after him now has to deal with some unforeseen consequences. (It actually sends Mot to Ruxmor but they don’t know that yet)

He’s not sure where he’s standing, if he’s standing at all. Equal parts dark and light. Too much yet not enough. Through the terrifyingly loud silence, there is crying. It’s so close to him and he— likes to think it’s in his nature to help out, that’s what Dagrun was built for, what it represents to him— reaches out to whoever or whatever is near him. It reaches back and

He wakes up on the other end of the portal. Swelling heat and humidity overwhelm him instantly. Netherrack and soulsand now stuck under his fingernails, which both ground him and leave him with a gross feeling.

Not long after this is when the remaining alts find out their lady ianite died. Spark having a physical reaction as it happens and Alyssa and Jeriah being told after the fact. Spark begins to act strangely, the other two chalk it up to it being grief. The longer it goes on the more they realize something is wrong with him.

Alyssa wakes up thirsty. It’s difficult for her to find the will to move from the warmth of her blanket— so nice and cozy, it’s heavy against her, she…can almost…fall…back asleep. How unfortunate that the need to drink water is much much stronger. And oh no! What if she dehydrates right then and there, who will listen to her dad’s tale of getting lost in the new nether.

Reluctant as she may be, she steps out of bed and makes her way downstairs. Bundled up in two layers of long sleeves and fuzzy pajamas pants, she takes a quiet and slow pace down the steps.

She is standing just outside of the kitchen, it’s dark and she has a hard time seeing but she recognizes Sparks figure, which is hunched over the sink, probably doing the dishes. Jeriah had told her to do them, which wasn’t even fair since it was his turn anyways. He only pushed the chore on her because he was getting old and lazy. She told him so too, he hadn’t exactly been the happiest to hear that. Denied it all the way to bedtime.

Yet here is her grandpa doing the chore in their stead. She hadn’t seen him in days, both her and Jeriah had given him space, maybe a bit selfish of her but she’s glad to see him here even if it is the dead of night. Good to know he didn’t perish in his room, it’s certainly a positive.

She walks past him and grabs a glass, pouring herself some water from a pitcher on the counter. It’s only then that Alyssa sees that there are no dishes in the sink—by the looks of it, they have been washed, dried and put away. There is only water. Spark is hunched over in the sink, elbow deep in the water. She’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to wake a person who’s sleepwalking but she can’t tell if he’s awake or not in the first place. She knows better than most what depression can do to a person. She’s seen her dad at his worst for years now, and she’s met that pirate from Atheoria. Not someone she’ll willingly interact with again, honestly.

She knows that this is about Spark’s wife. The woman who was is now just a faint memory to Alyssa. The only Ianite she knows is the one here. She doesn’t dare tell Spark that, especially not now.

The longer it goes on the more they realize something is wrong with him...

It had started with small moments. Spark couldn’t remember how he got to the basement, or he could not recall why he opened the front door, and embarrassingly enough he had once found himself halfway over the dock railing. Now he finds himself near the huge treehouse, Jeriah standing over him axe in hand. He had pushed him into the snow trying to wrangle the axe out of Sparks hands.

The cold heat makes him sweat. The beginning symptoms of a fever, one that’s been on the verge of starting for months now. The snow both cools and burns him. It does everything to help his sense and overwhelms them all the same. There is a contradiction that lies beneath his skin and he has no cure for this new ailment of his.

“I don’t know what your lady would’ve wanted, but I doubt getting smited by another version of her is one of those things.” Jeriah stares down at him, Spark is much too out of it to decipher if it’s anger or sadness. “Why?” He sounds tired, Spark decides. Gods, how late was it?

If Spark were to be truthful he’d say he didn’t care. He felt such steep indifference for the events that were put on pause by Jeriah, he’ll be thankful for it later, but now he truly cannot find it within himself to do something as simple as care. He leaves it at an “I don’t know, Jerry, I don’t—” He’ll later fear that feeling, it’s so unlike him…

A bit more of that happens until it’s Spark himself that gets fed up with it. He reaches out again, this time with a homemade ouija board.

The pencil barely moves, she had answered yes. It had been surprisingly easy to guess whose ghost was haunting him when his only two choices were between a dead chaos god and a dead pirate captain, and he finds himself near water more often than not. Looking at his amateur setup— it’s four ripped pieces of paper each with a different response: yes, no, I don’t know, ask elsewhere. Spark had thought that giving her more answers would make conversing easier. It does not. Regardless of how childish it is they talk as best as they can, they make do.

He had asked if it was difficult to move objects and she had responded with a yes, which was strange to him seeing as she had no difficulty moving him from point a to b. Perhaps there was something he was missing. His setup reminds him of a compass, the way he had placed the responses as points and the pencil as a needle. He looks through his things and finds one. Other than some dust on the glass, it’s in perfect condition.

“Think this’ll be easier?” He moves his arm out to where he guesses she’s standing…? He doesn’t know if ghosts do that. He feels her hand over his and the needle moves much to quickly. All at once her thoughts become his. His thoughts become hers.

There is an overwhelming absence of everything and all she can do is cry.

What was meant to be a temporary house, has now imprisoned him.

Neither was able to see their mission through and now they both exist together in separate spaces, miserable.

Eventually, it will lead to Capsize getting revived, but she doesn’t remember her time in the void space or as a ghost, for the better. But it’s hard for Spark to be angry at her for the distress caused when it was some messed up version of her and not the her that’s been revived. While I do think their relationship starts out strained, I do think that they both grow to have at least a semi-positive opinion on each other. Like Spark doesn’t like Capsize’s methodology of immediately going to tnt and violence when something doesn’t go her way, but she does it with confidence and he can respect that. And Capsize thinks fishing with Spark is enjoyable.

(I named the draft “la posición de mi posesión” and i think it’s fun to say. Also this is the second time I send you such a long ask omfg, thank you for reading it <3)

My apologies, the first time you asked this it did come through. I spent my free time yesterday factory resetting my phone and then playing d&d so I kinda didn't have time to respond.

I really really like this story idea!!! I think the idea of Spark getting possessed/ haunted by Capsize is really awesome.

I really like how the situation starts because Spark reaches out to help because it really feels interesting for him to just reach out to this mysterious presence in the darkness. I think its a really telling thing for a character to do.

I love the idea of Spark having a physical reaction to his Ianite dying even when in a completely different world. And it conesiding with the haunting beginning is such a good touch cause it can be written off at first as grief when it's a bit more of a pressing issue.

The actually haunting is really cool (like all of this is really well written but I particularly like Capsize accidently sending her and Spark to the void when trying to move the compass). And I kind of love how empathic Spark is despite being possessed multiple times. I think the way you've written Spark is really fun since I don't see a lot of him in the fandom.

As always, I love anything where Capsize is revived. I kind of love the description of the relationship between Spark and Capsize you've written since it seems very natural for the two.

Also feel free to write all the long asks you want, I really like reading them ^-^

#ask #licantropa #others writing #mianite #spark conway #captain capsize #countrybat

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ladywaifuuwrites · 3 years

Text

Pillars reacting to their crush who’s small but strong

Request: male pillars reacting to a really strong female pillar whos like super short like 4′10-5′ and they crush on them.

Pairings: Male pillars x fem! reader

Synopsis: Their crush is a strong smol pillar ^_^

Warnings: manga spoiler

a/n: I smiled at your request since I’m small too. Like I’m 5′0. And I’m kinda scared to do face to face classes since the boys at my school will tease me for not getting taller. Hmph. SO HERE YA GO. You’re the first request! Have a nice day whoever u are!

And I am so sorry this is so long! ASJDAOFHHASK. I got carried away in some of those storylines. I hope this makes sense (wrote this when I was hungry).

This would be a headcanon I assume.

I’m sorry if It’s taking me long to answer requests but don’t worry I’ll write those! I’ll probably upload rules for future requests :)

Giyuu Tomioka

yo this guy is tall not kidding

Giyuu is head over heels for you. He’ll want to protect you since you’re the most precious things he’s ever laid eyes on

Sparkles in his eyes whenever he sees you✨

He doesn’t want to lose you so he’s butting in on all of your missions. You get annoyed and you think he’s looking down on you.

You two get into a fight and doesn’t fix it since Giyuu’s communication is bad. It ends up in you walking away.

Nighttime and demons are lurking around in the forest as you take a stroll to clear your mind. Then a demon launches on you but thanks to your quick reflexes you dodge.

It’s a strong demon, close enough to become one of the lower moons. But nothing you can’t handle.

Giyuu senses a demon nearby and he frantically searches for you. *sim dads reaction when the mother goes into labor lmaooooo*

Lights fill up an area of the forest from the techniques you use. In like 2 strikes the demon dies.

He finally finds you as the demon’s ashes blow away. Your hair is dramatically blowing too.

He’s just staring at you then hugs you “I’m sorry. I’m not underestimating you…I just want to protect you.”

Then all good. He’s amazed by how strong you are despite you’re short stature. You’re going to missions together and sometimes he just watches you finish off the demon. Just happy to see that satisfied smile you have when you kill a demon.

Muichiro Tokito

When he first met you at the pillar meeting, he muttered his thoughts, wondering how could someone be that small? You’re in the same age but you’re small.

Shinobu heard him since she was beside him and said “that’s rude to ask someone”. She’s lowkey offended.

Tengen retorts to Muichiro. “You’re small too…??”

Since it’s rude, he kept his mouth shut. You’re the same age as him when you entered the corps. He thinks you’ll grow up anyway.

Surprise surprise you grew up, 2 inches. But still small.

He gets nervous a bit around you since puberty did you good. Won’t admit it though.

Cue swordsmith village arc

He’s having trouble dealing with Gyokko. (I hate his face. It’s weird and ugly.)

Then minutes later, you show up out of nowhere, giving great damage to the demon.

“Are you okay?” you ask him with concern and you two fight off the fish demon.

He’s in awe because you actually took over the fight. Sure you have injuries but those are minor compared to his and you were very careful.

He’s injured so he couldn’t do much but you saved him and the civilians by defeating the demon. That’s when he realized how amazing you are and you earn his respect.

Days pass by and you two along with the other demon slayers are commended by Oyakata-sama.

He thanks you when the both of you are walking together. He’s very grateful for what you did and you two become closer afterwards.

“Ah young love.” Mitsuri sighs blissfully as she watches you two leave the headquarters.

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro knows you’re small and he knows you’re strong. You’re one of his trainees along with Mitsuri, so you’ve known each other for a long time now.

You rose to the ranks of the pillars with Kyojuro’s guidance. And now you’re looked up to by the whole organization because of your excellent swordsmanship despite your small figure.

So you’re tasked to train 20 slayers ranked below Tsuchinoto. You take them to a clearing in the forest where training equipment are already placed. You train them by remembering what Kyojuro has taught you over the years. And you smile, seeing your past self in the struggling slayers.

You gave them a 10 minute break and after 10 minutes, you do a headcount to see if everyone is in your proximity.

“18,19…?????”

Oh no. A slayer is missing.

So you set off to find the missing one and there you found him.

Hanging upside down from the arms of a large demon. The boy is muttering apologies for straying faraway and is begging for you to save him upon seeing you.

You are annoyed at the fact that he has disobeyed your orders and is now at the hands of danger. But this was no time to be blaming someone for a boy’s life is at stake here.

You jump into the air and you take down the demon pretty easily with one strike of your sword. And you catch the falling boy bridal style with your annoyed face.

You put the boy down but suddenly a demon comes attacking you both. You kill it but more of it comes at you. They are easy to take down but it keeps coming, making you tired if you have to do this all night. It just won’t stop multiplying.

You think you’ve killed almost all of it but then the slayer screams “(L/N)-SAN!!!!!”. A monstrous looking demon bares its claws at you, but before you could react a flash of flames appears right in front of your eyes.

“Kyojuro…” You whisper in relief as he slays the final demon. The bright flames sparkle in your eyes as you’re once again amazed at the man.

Kyojuro looks at you and comes over. “You’re so amazing.” You manage to say.

He smiles and says. “No. You’re the amazing one.”. You always manage to face whatever challenge and it always ends up in you winning. Kyojuro knows how hard you proved others wrong by becoming a strong pillar.

Super proud of you cause you’re strong. He actually watched you battle those before jumping in to save you.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He doesn’t really care if you’re short or tall

The important things is that you’re useful to the organization

When someone teases you about your height, you end up feeling down and he’s there to beat that someone’s ass.

He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s a softie when it comes to you. You eventually break down his walls and now you can say you’re friends with the scary wind pillar.

You always tease him though and he’s always annoyed. But everyone thinks you’re both dumb since it’s very clear that you two like each other but you still deny it.

There’s this time where Sanemi is visibly struggling fighting demons as you watch him peacefully on a rooftop. He’s glaring at you and asks you “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”.

You just smile at him sweetly😊

Sanemi pretends his heart didn’t do a flip. But his heart stopped when he saw a demon behind you on the rooftop.

He was about to call your name when another blink and the demon’s head was cut off.

He was surprised since it all happened so fast. You go down to the ground, landing safely as you battle demons that the frozen Sanemi left.

It just took you 10 seconds to eliminate those demons and Sanemi’s mouth is left agape as he watched you.

You weren’t normally like this. So why the sudden surge of power?

“Sanemi hun. Close your mouth.” You say to him with a blank face, but before you could go past him, he gripped your wrist tightly and placed your small body in front of him.

He dragged you so easily lol.

He hugged you with your faced buried on his chest.

It was the comforting kind of silence. Sanemi was scared losing you to that demon but deep inside he knows that you’re strong.

Won’t admit that your moves are amazing.

Gyomei Himejima

This man is the strongest in the demon slayer corps and the tallest

Lmaoooo you would be like a mushroom beside him💀🍄

Gyomei actually gets out of tricky situations easily because he’s that strong

You’re a fairly new pillar who earned her spot 3 months ago. You two were assigned on a mission together. A gigantic demon appeared throughout the village that was between the regions you and the stone pillar were assigned in.

Gyomei knows your capabilities so he trusts you in doing a good job, but he can’t help but worry about you.

He doesn’t care if you’re small, he thinks that height isn’t the basis for an excellent demon slayer. But he’s still worried, so he looks for you. I don’t know how he looks but he looks.

Then he sees you fighting off demons very easily. A determined look is seen across your face. Gyomei feels he’s tearing up because he’s so proud of you. Proud boyfriend here somethin.

You were just a weak mizunoto years ago and now you’re a strong pillar who can fight with him side by side.

When you finish off the demons, you look to see Gyomei smiling at you. This were the fruits of the harsh trainings you went through, it made an excellent swordswoman.

Among the pillars, you stand beside Gyomei in rankings. So you’re powerful like wow. O_O

Obanai Iguro

He’s small but have you seen him fight? He’s a demon slayer with remarkable speed and you won’t know he’s attacking you because his moves slithers secretly like a snake.

You’ve always admired Obanai even you’re now both pillars. And that admiration bloomed into something more.

He’s a strong pillar despite his small stature and that’s what you aim for to be like.

You’re trying to show off your moves to him every time you’re in battle together, to show him what you can do. To which he’s just “meh”.

So you give up on trying to show off and just do it for the sake of the people you’re saving.

You really gave up on showing off, but you can’t help it cause your breathing forms are flashy. Obanai doesn’t show it but he loves that display of power you have when you’re fighting.

Poor man doesn’t realize he’s in love with you even though others point it out.

He’s having trouble dividing his attention on protecting the civilians or fighting the demons. Luckily you were near the area so you came to his aid.

You slay the demons with your sharp and precise movements in just a short amount of time.

He’s like 😲 but when you turn he’s back to 😐😷

He’s one of the guys who won’t admit that you’re amazing and won’t admit that he likes you. You force him to confess though.

Tengen Uzui

If Obanai doesn’t admit he likes you, this guy would shout that he likes you

Would openly flirt with you because why not? There’s nothing to be shy about.

Always takes the chance to compliment and flirt with you.

“You’re cute (y/n)” “Thanks” Tengen finds your height cute because the height difference is HUGE.

Another mushroom like moment💀🍄

He knows you’re strong so he likes to train with you. Always ends up letting you win because he just likes it when he’s pinned down by your smaller figure.

When a demon invasion came in your area,, you fight them off while Tengen is called for backup.

He slays the lesser demons easily and found you fighting a stronger demon while protecting some children behind your back.

He smirks and leans against a tree, arms folded while watching you fight off the demon.

You did it so easily making Tengen’s eyebrows rise.

Then you see him and ask him “what are you doing?”.

“watching you.” He finds you hot and sexy when you have that focused look in the middle of a battle. He won’t say it out loud because you might smack him in the face.

Super amazed at the fact that you’re stronger than the other pillars despite your small figure.(he thinks you’re stronger than him but dismisses that because pshhhhhh).

Will throw you over his shoulder at random times. Thinking that his antics will make you fall in love with him.

And it did…

#kny headcanons #kny #demon slayer #giyuu x reader #muichiro x reader #sanemi x reader #kyojuro x reader #obanai x reader #gyomei x reader #tengen x reader #uzui x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #iguro obanai x reader #gyomei himejima x reader #uzui tengen x reader #muichiro tokito x reader

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

Text

The Brother's Keeper

A Dick Grayson and Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, References to Past Abuse

Author's Note: Another story edited and re-posted! Enjoy! -Thorne

Despite having not lived at the manor for almost a decade, she still knew every hallway and room like the back of her hand, every sound was a familiar net of reassurance she could count on. The hum of the hidden wall closing behind her, the creaking of the third step from the top that they always avoided, the clicking the bats above made. She descended the steps into the cave, balancing the heavy manila files in one hand, the other holding two protein shakes, knowing her father probably hadn’t consumed nutrition in at least a few hours since he called her.

Her eyes fell on him where he sat at the Batcomputer; he’d changed out of his suit and was in a pair of joggers and a long sleeve shirt. She walked over, setting the files down beside the keyboard. “Here’s the files you asked about, dad. I alphabetized them too…and color tabbed ‘em but that’s not important.”

He glanced at her with a warm smile before nodding and turning back to the screen. “Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate you doing so.”

She leaned an arm on the back of the chair, propping her chin on his shoulder as she stared at the screen. “New antidote for Scarecrow’s toxin?”

“He’s synthesized a new formula, so I need to make a new antidote in case anyone gets gassed,” he replied, tapping at the screen until the numbers were apparently in approval with whatever he was thinking about—who knew.

She hummed, taking note of the lack of noise. “Where’re the chuckle-heads?”

He chuckled and tipped his head towards the locker room. “They put their suits away and went to change.” She nodded again and patted his shoulder before walking off in the direction of the room.

When she got there, she didn’t see them, but she could hear them harking on one another in the locker room, and she moved in that direction. She stepped into the room and took in the image of the four of her brothers standing in front of the mirrors in their underwear, pointing at each other like they were shocked to see the other.

“Do I even want to know?” she asked, unblinkingly.

Their heads shot up and they saw her; Dick greeted, “(Y/N)! What are you doing here? You usually don’t come to the manor.”

(Y/N) shrugged and stepped inside, taking a seat on one of the cool metal benches. “Dad needed some files over a few previous encounters I’ve had with galactic enemies. And me being here brings me back to my original question.” She gestured to them with a wave of a hand, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you guys in your tighty-whities?”

They snorted, and Jason turned around. “We’re comparing scars.”

(Y/N) let out a ‘pfft’. “Of course, you are.” She paused for a second and observed them. “Who’s got the gnarliest one?” Immediately, they pointed at Damian who simply motioned to his chest, and she looked at the faded scar that rested over his heart.

A frown instantly drew her lips, and Damian, being ever so vigilant, caught it and shook his head. “It wasn’t your fault, sister. You tried to save me.”

She met his eyes and murmured, “I didn’t try hard enough.” She glanced at Jason, seeing the scars line his chest, her voice just as soft. “For either of you.”

Jason’s lips pulled downwards, and he walked over, sitting on the bench beside her. “The fact that you tried is good enough for us, Queenie.” He reached out, patting her head.

She sighed and shook it off, giving them a smile before she turned to Tim. “Any on you Nerd-bird?”

He grinned and turned around, running his hand along a scar that rested along the left side of his ribs. “When I fought Ra’s, he got me right here.”

(Y/N) looked at it, then leaned back, a curious look in her eye. “Other than dad, aren’t you the only person he’s called ‘detective’?” Tim gave her a firm nod and she pulled a grin, nodding at him. “Look at the Nerd-bird kicking all our asses in the game. I’m proud of you.” He gave her a sheepish smile and she turned to Dick. “We’ve all had brushes with death, but I don’t think you have a lot of noticeable ones. Which is surprising because out of all of us, you’re the most reckless.”

The others laughed while Dick glared at her, then he shrugged and showed his back, and they saw faint white lines that resembled lightning strikes. “When Wally came back out of the speed force, he accidentally shocked me. Of course, it wasn’t enough to damage me severely, but it’s here.”

They looked at him once more, then Tim tipped his head to the side. “What about you, sis? You’ve been doing this longer than we have. Do you have any good ones?” (Y/N) looked at him before pulling off her jacket and pulling off the tank top she had on. She stood up, walking to the mirror and staring into it.

She pointed to one that lined across her left breast. “Even covered by my bra, you can see how badly this one was.” She paused running a hand down it, gaze far. “When Jason died, I got into it with Joker some time after.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted to Jason’s, who’s were wide with shock. “I beat him worse than dad did, but he left me with this one before I did.”

“I…didn’t know you did that, Queenie.”

“Of course not Jason. I didn’t tell you.” (Y/N) pointed to a patch that rested on her right hip. “Took a bullet for Tim a few years ago.”

“That was when Deadshot was running around, right?”

She nodded, answering his question. “Mhm. They say he never misses. But that day, he did.” Her hand moved and she touched a curved scar that ran down her neck. “After you died, Damian, I found Talia and we had it out.”

“What happened?” he questioned curiously.

(Y/N) met his eyes in the mirror and frowned. “She and I gave each other a fair share of wounds…but I think the ones I gave her hurt more than the ones she gave me.”

“And those were?”

(Y/N) looked back at her reflection and stared at herself. “The infuriated words of a grieving sister.”

Silence enveloped the room and after a few moments, Dick pointed to a particular scar on her back that ran down the length of it. “How in the world did you get that one?”

She looked over her shoulder and reached behind her, fingers brushing over the raised, jagged skin that had sealed unevenly. “On my back?”

Dick snorted and nodded. “The only one on your back sis.”

She went silent for a moment then she admitted, “…Tarantula gave it to me a few years ago.”

No one noticed the way Dick froze for a split second at her admittance, and Jason asked, “Why did you and Tarantula get into it?”

Her eyes met Dick’s for a flash before she looked at Jason. “She killed an informant of mine and I got even with her.”

“Looks like she rocked your shit, Queenie.”

The others laughed, save for her and Dick, then (Y/N) muttered darkly, “I beat Catalina Flores within an inch of her life that night.” Her statement brought their laughter to a grinding halt, and she continued. “Hell, I almost killed her. But I didn’t.”

Damian crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “And why not? It would not be the first time you’ve killed someone.”

(Y/N) rolled her shoulders and moved back to her clothes, pulling on the tank top and jacket before turning to him. “Because then she would’ve gotten of scot free, and she wouldn’t have to live knowing what she’s done.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed and he followed Damian, crossing his arms and leaning against the lockers. “Not to be nosey, but the way you’re talking about her almost seems like you’ve got a vendetta against her. And I mean like, me to Bruce vendetta.”

(Y/N) met his gaze before reaching down and tossing his muscle tank to him, then passing the others their shirts. “The informant she killed was a good friend of mine. There was…a lot of fury.” She paused, meeting Dick’s gaze once more. “There still is.”

The others simply stared at her before pulling on their shirts, and she looked at them. “I’m gonna get dad to go out and eat somewhere with me. You guys go on out and start working on him, would you?” The three nodded and started towards the door, (Y/N) following.

She was almost out of the door when Dick’s voice reached her quietly. “…(Y/N)?” She paused, turning around, and looking at Dick, who wore an unreadable expression; he glanced up at her, his eyes searching as he inquired, “Was there another reason that you two fought?”

“Me and Catalina?” He nodded and she shrugged. “There might’ve been. But the immediate fight was about my informant.”

Dick stared at her for a few moments before whispering, “…You didn’t start your informant network until I donned Batman.”

(Y/N) tipped her head back and leaned against the door frame, eyes narrowed as she mentally picked his words apart as only an older sister could. “What are you getting at, kid brother?”

He fell silent all at once, but when he finally found it in himself to bring his eyes to hers, she saw such pain in them. “Did you fight her…because of me?”

“No,” she immediately replied, firmly and confidently.

Dick’s eyes widened momentarily, but he looked down and nodded. “I see.”

She kept staring at him, then cleared her throat and turned, grabbing the doorknob. She pulled the door open and stopped, murmuring, “Dick.” He glanced up at her, but she faced forward and said, “I don’t know what happened to you in Blüdhaven all those years ago, and frankly, it’s none of my business.”

Dick’s heart sunk at her words, but then she looked over her shoulder, a solemn tone matching her stance and gaze as she affirmed, “But I am your sister…and I run the best damn informant network this side of the galaxy.” She paused, her words taking on an underlying tone. “There isn’t anything that happens in Gotham and our sister city that I don’t know about.”

Something passed between their eyes and she declared, “I am the family keeper. And I will always be the safety net that catches everyone when they’re in their darkest hours. When there’s something you can’t handle, I will for you.”

Her words made his eyes shine with unshed tears and she gave him a faint smile and a wink before she stepped out of the locker room, leaving him sitting alone, his thoughts drifting back to the rooftop in Blüdhaven.

***

She walked across the floor of the cave to see her father standing there, Jason and Tim hanging off his arms and Damian around his neck; he wore the expression of a tired dad and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Having fun, dad?”

He shifted slowly as to not knock one of her brothers off and glared at her. “This is your fault.”

“Guilty as charged father dearest! But it’s food time! Let’s get street tacos.”

Jason grunted at her and shook his head. “No, let’s get gyros!”

“Gyros are disgusting, Jason.”

His features contorted in something only described as an insulted disbelief and he declared, “Just because you don’t like limes and lemons, does not mean gyros are gross, (Y/N).”

“We’re not getting gyros, Jason,” she shot back.

“What about Chinese food?”

(Y/N) looked at Damian and nodded. “I’m down for tacos or Chinese.”

“Can we stop and get some shawarma?”

“Tim, which part of tacos or Chinese sounded like shawarma to you? It’s one or the other. Take your pick.”

“But last night was pizza night! And if I eat Chinese or tacos, I’m going to eat more carbs than I need!”

“You do need more carbs, twig-boy.”

“That was mean, sis.”

“Truthful. I mean how have you not been snapped in half yet? You look like a toothpick.”

The others laughed at her comments, and Bruce looked at her. “Where’s Dick?”

(Y/N) tipped her head back to the lockers. “Still changing.” She motioned to the stairs. “You guys go ahead. I’ll wait on Dickie.” They nodded, and she watched her father trudge past with her three brothers hanging off him.

A smile crossed her lips and a few minutes later, she heard footsteps behind her. “Where’d everybody go?”

She turned around and nodded to the stairs. “Told them to go ahead and get ready.” (Y/N) had barely made it up the first ten steps when she felt Dick stop beside her, and she glanced back at him. “Dick? You good?”

He gazed up at her. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She gave him a knowing look and said, “I didn’t do anything, Dick.”

“You did.”

“Agree to disagree.” They stared at each other for a second then she tipped her head to the stairs. “Let’s go get some food, kid brother.”

He nodded and started climbing the steps beside her. “I don’t tell you enough, sis…but I love you.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and mumbled, “God, you are so sentimental.”

“It’s one of my perks.”

“More like a curse…but yeah…it is.” She paused and he stopped beside her, and she reached over, wrapping her arms around his waist. “I love you too, little brother.” His arms wound around her, and they shared a moment before she patted his back. “Alright. Let go. I’m done being overly affectionate.”

He laughed, letting her go and she walked up ahead of him. He kept his eyes trained to her back, and he remembered something she once told him.

The two of them walked silently down the twisting and turning garden path, following the little white concrete plates that made the trail. Dick looked up from his hands, calling out to the older girl in front of him. “(Y/N)?”

She hummed in response but didn’t look at him. “What is it, Dickie?”

“Why won’t you let me walk beside you?”

(Y/N) glanced over her shoulder. “Because I’m protecting you.”

His head tipped to the side and he stopped walking. “But were at the manor?”

“And something could always happen. I’m in the front, so that if something comes, I can protect you while you run.” She turned around and looked at him. “One day you’ll be old enough to walk beside me instead of behind me.”

Dick’s eyes widened and he jumped excitedly. “When! When do I get to walk beside you instead of behind!”

(Y/N) giggled at her little brother and reached out, holding his shoulders to stop him from jumping up and down. “When you don’t need me to protect you anymore…you can walk beside me.”

“When will that be?”

(Y/N) pulled her hands away and spun back around, continuing her walk. “When it happens…you’ll know.” It was all the answer she gave the young boy, but he continued following her, still behind.

Dick blinked, the memory flashing away as fast as it had come, and he saw her back once more; he called out to her. “When do I get to walk beside you instead of behind?”

(Y/N) halted, mid-step and she glanced over her shoulder, a faint smile playing her lips as she replied, “When you don’t need me to protect you anymore, you can walk beside me.”

“And when will that be?”

She huffed a laugh chuckled at him before she turned back around, though she paused just as she was about to cross the threshold and peered back at him. “Don’t you already know the answer to that?”

“I’m not sure I’ll ever know the answer to that one, sis.”

(Y/N) shrugged and turned back around, declaring, “Then I guess you still need me to protect you.”

Dick watched her disappear into the manor, listening as she got into the argument that her brothers were bickering about with each other, and he smiled faintly. “Yeah…I guess I still do.”

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wormstacheangel · 3 years

Text

When Dean finally rescued Cas from the empty, he expected a happy reunion. He envisioned a strong hug like the first time he had escaped. He expected a long-awaited kiss and repeated confessions that weren’t said with sorrow or heartache. He expected to find the same Cas that was taken, but that would have been too easy.

Cas was left awake, alone, and in complete darkness for months on end.

So when Dean went into the empty, ready to wake up the love of his life, he found Cas curled in on himself—staring blankly out into the void of nothingness. He whispered something so softly and quickly that Dean couldn’t pick up on the actual words, but it sounded familiar. Almost like he was humming a song.

Dean tried to get him to stand up on his own, but he quickly realized that Cas wasn’t even looking at him. His gaze was distant, seeing something Dean can’t even imagine. He then noticed the white film over his eyes dimmed the once bright blue.

His fingertips gently traced over the skin he had only dreamt of touching for months before he took a deep, shaky breath to steady himself. With that slight pause, Dean used whatever desperate strength he had and dragged Cas back to the portal.

Back home.

As they got closer, the light of the portal seemed to startle Cas, and he started to shove Dean away. Dean had to put Cas down so he could take his green jacket off and place it over Cas’s head to calm him before he slowly continued to walk through the portal and into the bunker’s library where Jack, Rowena, Eileen, and Sam were waiting for them.

When they walked through, Dean quickly shushed them as he fell to his knees with Cas still in his arms, hidden under the jacket, and covering his ears at the sudden loud voices surrounding them.

Dean looked around at his family, all sharing the same worried glances knowing they were on the same page. Cas’s welcome home party would be pushed back until further notice.

Cas didn’t cry. His expression didn’t change much at all. All Cas did was sit or lay on Dean’s bed with the lights off. All but the desk light. It was an old lightbulb, so the light wasn’t a bright white like the rest of the place. Instead, it illuminated a soft golden glow against the wall.

Cas squinted at it at first, blinking so inhumanly at it, until all Cas did was stare at it. Whenever Dean made any move to turn it off or even just get near the lamp, Cas made a little whine at the back of his throat.

Little noises were the most Dean can get out of Cas. At least it brought him a little relief. It meant Cas could see him at that moment.

Cas still did that rapid talking or singing whenever it was a little bit too quiet. It made Dean wonder if Cas knew he was out of the Empty. Especially during those times when he would stare right past him, unblinking with cold eyes.

It was only the end of the second week when Dean broke down.

[continue under the cut or on AO3]

He didn’t mean to. He was trying so damn hard to keep it together, especially in front of Cas, but one night he just lost it. He can blame the lack of booze in his system, or as he wants, he can blame Sam, who came up to him about a stupid case. It pissed him off more than it should have. The fact that Sam even believed for a second that he would leave the bunker while Cas was like-well the way he was, just gave him enough of an excuse to raise his voice at someone.

Eileen had to step in and tell him to cool off.

Dean stormed off without a glance back and went to his room. He changed into his pajamas and climbed into bed beside Cas. He laid on his stomach as he wrapped one arm over the top of Cas’s waist, scooting close enough so that he could rest his head on Cas’s shoulder. He then opened his mouth to wish him goodnight just like every night, but something in Dean just broke.

He felt the pressure rise up his throat as he tried to hide his face into the familiar body beside him, but the sob still came.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me so long to go get you. Fuck, Cas, please.” Dean took a shaky breath, sniffling as he reached to hold Cas’s hand closer to him. “We missed- I...I missed you. I missed you so much, Cas.” Dean brought Cas’s hand up to his lips and kissed the knuckles before letting the hand rest by his head. His eyes closed as he sighs, “I love you. So come back to me, okay?"

The only response Dean got was a squeeze of the hand, which was enough hope for the future, and more than Dean could have ever asked for at that moment.

As the days went on, Cas didn’t change. Literally and figuratively. He was still an angel, so there was no need for him to shower or brush his teeth, but Dean swore that Cas’s facial hair was growing, so he liked shaving him at least once a week. Cas seemed to like it by the humming noise he made.

They did learn a couple of things as the days went on.

One, peace and quiet are not what they strive for.

It only brought Cas anxiety, and his humming or singing became much louder and more desperate. They fixed that problem with a Bluetooth speaker constantly playing music in the background, a playlist Jack made mixed in with a playlist Jack helped Dean make. It made the humming stop, and Cas started to roll over in bed. He even sat back against the headboard with his eyes closed a few times.

A month after Cas got back, Dean's phone died in the middle of the night, and the silence must have gotten to him. He covered his ears while he started muttering to himself again. Dean woke up and pulled Cas to his chest while softly sing to him in his still half-asleep phase. He didn’t know why that was his first instinct, but he went along with it cause it started to calm Cas down. Then, Cas held him back for the first time—tucking his head right under Dean's jaw and relaxing.

Dean tried not to stiffen at the touch; if he were honest with himself, he would admit he was trying not to cry because he was busy singing. Busy, not wanting to disrupt this moment.

That night Dean sang all night long until Jack checked on them in the early hours and connected his phone.

Two, always have a light source on.

The lamp was the first one they had. Cas constantly wanted it on, but it bothered Dean all the time when he wanted to sleep. So they bought a cool starlight projector, Sam’s idea, that kept the light on the cement ceiling and not on Dean’s face. Cas seemed to enjoy it as he laid on his back, watching it all night, letting Dean curl up on his side as he slept through the night.

Three, never leave Cas alone.

Nobody wanted to leave Cas alone for more than a minute if they could help it. So they made plans to keep him company at all hours of the day. Of course, they weren’t crowding him. They all came in one by one, except for Dean, who would say, “This is my room. I get to come and go as I damn well please.”

Sam liked to sit by Cas's side and talk nerd like they usually would while cleaning his guns or doing research to help another hunter. He would even pause during the one-way conversation to give Cas some time to answer or try to imagine what Cas would say in that situation. Sam was always calm, wanting to keep it as normal as possible while Cas just stared at him, sometimes his eyebrows knitted together, and Dean had to excuse himself as he felt his chest tighten up.

Eileen sat by his side and watched shows she liked while she talked to Cas out loud and signed so he could hear her voice. Even then, she didn’t talk much. Instead, she let the laptop do the talking as she pets Cas’s hair while sitting on the chair by the bed.

Jack came in the most next to Dean. He liked reading to him or talking about how his skills as the new God have improved thanks to Amara.

"Dad, I hope you'll be proud of me." Jack once whispered to Cas, who was having a bad day, checking out more than usual as he stared off into the distance. Eyes wide and almost screaming.

It was almost the end of the second month when another big mile-stone happened.

Jack was lying in bed with Cas while Dean was at his desk, cleaning his guns obsessively again. Jack was reading him a book he bought during his recent trip to the bookstore with Eileen, it was a Star Wars story.

Jack was getting into the book as he read slower but louder during a big fight scene. He got so excited that he even jumped up and looked back at Cas, "Did you hear that, Dad? He won!"

Cas smiled back at him- a genuine smile- and Dean almost dropped the piece of metal in his hand while Jack froze, his shoulders tightening up while he scrunched up his lips as if trying to hold back his cry.

Instead, he quietly composed himself as he asked in a shaky voice, "You want me to read the rest?"

Cas only blinked at him, keeping the slight smile, and Jack took it as a yes. Jack sat beside him again with a big smile plastered on his face, wiping his eyes every other word, as he rested his head on Cas's shoulder to continue reading. Dean didn’t miss when Cas tilted his head down to rest his cheek on Jack’s hair.

He had to excuse himself again.

After that day, Cas slowly started to open up a little more.

Once Dean woke up with Cas out of bed. Dean was already in full panic mode, his shoes on the wrong feet and jacket inside out as he called out for Sam.

Then just as quick as the panic came, relief flooded him when he found Cas in the kitchen trying to make coffee. He turned towards Dean and gave him the smallest of smiles, but it filled Dean with such solace that he just dragged himself to Cas’s space. Dean held his arms open to press Cas into him, and without a second thought, Cas fell right into him as if it was an everyday normal occurrence.

That was the start of Cas now being up and around the bunker. It was like when a baby starts crawling, everyone keeping tabs on the baby’s first steps, except this baby was an eon old celestial being.

The library, Dean’s room, the Dean-cave, and the kitchen were Cas’s favorite places just to sit. He always had Dean’s headphones on, softly playing music, just in case it went quiet, and it took a while for him to be able to walk around without those.

It was the sixth month when Cas wished Dean a goodnight first and then added, “I love you, Dean.”

Dean fought the lump in his throat, but Cas instantly pulled him in, his arms wrapped securely around him. He had so much he wanted to say to Cas just to hear his voice again, anything to listen to his voice again, but instead, he kisses Cas’s chest before saying, “I love you, too.”

Days came and went. Sometimes it seemed like Cas was getting better as he talked a little more, but then those days would come when he would just stare off into the stars on their ceiling. Not moving an inch or bothering to fake breath like he liked. Those days the music was a little louder, and Cas held on to Dean a little tighter.

“I don’t want to go back. Please,” Cas pleaded as he stared wide-eyed at the darkness in the corner of their room. As if he was having a nightmare with his eyes wide open. “Please don’t make me…I-I don’t want to be in the dark again!”

Dean took Cas’s face in between his hands to hold his gaze. Only talking when he knew Cas was seeing him. “It’s okay, Cas. I got you. Nobody’s taking you away from me ever again.”

“Promise?” Dean felt Cas’s grip at his shoulder, holding him with desperation.

“Promise.”

That’s how Cas became human.

The nightmares have him waking up screaming some days, but at least Cas knew he was safe from the Empty’s clutches.

He was going to live his human life being loved and taken care of, and Dean was happy to say he felt Cas was doing the same for him.

#i am reposting this fic i wrote in October cause i didn't realize all my suptober fics are kinda gone #and i really liked this one so here you go #i edited just a little but not a lot so sorry about mistakes if beta's wanna beta with me that would be dope #destiel #wormstachewrites #my writing #fic #deancas #destiel fic #dean saves cas from the empty #selective mutism castiel #cas deal with the trauma of the empty #castiel is scared of the dark #dean #cas

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imthebadguyyy · 3 years

Text

Mon Amour

Summary - You've grown up with Charles, and as much as you hate to admit it, you love him. Pierre knows, and clearly sees how desperately Charles loves you too. It's true what they say, love will always find a way.

The Monaco Grand Prix was one of the most fun, exhilarating and exciting Grand Prix's of the entire F1 Season. You were excited enough, and since you already lived nearby, all you had to do was make your way to Charles's home, and then make your way to the track together. To say you were excited was an understatement, and you could barely contain the nerves and excitement you were feeling.

Charles was nervous. He didn't know why, Monaco was his circuit, and he always drove well on the track. He had been confident through free practice, and he was starting on pole, with an excellent quali result. But he was nervous, and something told him it had nothing to do with the race, and everything to do with Y/N.

Y/N. His best friend. His go-to. His shoulder to cry on. She had been there through it all, when his dad died, when Jules died. Whenever he needed someone to talk to or just needed a hug, he could always turn to her. He had met Y/N at a go kart race, sitting with her mother, and eating an ice lolly. Her hair had been in two little ponytails, and she was wearing a pretty polka doted red and blue dress. He was sitting with Pierre, and couldn't help staring at the girl, not even paying attention to what Pierre was saying, until he had snapped his fingers in front of Charles's face to tell him the race was about to begin.

The race had been wonderful, and he had won first place. His dad and Pierre's dad had both been so proud, and had bought both of them ice creams, and as they sat eating their cones, Y/N had made her way over to the pair. "You drove really well today, and my mommy told me I should come over to say congratulations" Too surprised to say anything, he let Pierre take over, and watched as he conversed with her. Then, she turned to him and said, "Whats your name? Mine's Y/N' and he had managed to stutter out, "C-Charles"

And thats how your friendship had begun. Since then, you had accompanied him to every race he had, had been there when he signed for Sauber (Alfa Romeo) and then when he signed for Ferrari. You had been so proud, you had cried when he told you, and hugged him tight and told him that you were incredibly proud of him, and that you were sure that his dad and Jules would have been incredibly proud of him too. And then he had cried too, and you two had cried together, and spent the rest of the night together, just hugging each other.

And here you were again, at his door, looking simply stunning in the outfit you had picked for the race track, looking like an angel sent from heaven. Well, you were his angel. The problem was, he couldn't tell you. You didn't love him, and the last thing he needed was to jeopardise your relationship by confessing his feelings. His stupid, stupid feelings.

"You look gorgeous" Charles said, leaning forward to give you a hug, and a soft kiss on your cheek. If he had been looking at you, he probably would have seen how you had gotten slightly flustered at his gesture. "Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself' you replied, reciprocating his gesture by kissing his cheek. Apparently, neither one of you were good at paying attention, because you didn't see the way he blushed either. "Ready for the race?" "Always" "Is Pierre going to be there?" "Yes he is, we'll probably meet him on the way to the paddock" As much as he hated to admit it, he always felt a pang of jealousy when you brought up his best friend, because he thought that you had feelings for the Frenchman,

"Okay then" "Are you ready to go?"

Nodding your head, you picked up your purse and checked your reflection in the mirror one more time, and brushed a stray strand of unruly hair behind your ears. Grabbing the keys to his Ferrari, he closed the door as the both of you left his house. The car ride to the paddock was fairly quiet, as you made occasional comment about random things, and bopped your heads to some music.

Arriving at the paddock, Charles noticed the paps that were waiting to descend upon you two like vultures. "merde" he mumbled under his breath, knowing you didn't really liken your picture being taken by random strangers. Sighing, you reached out to touch his shoulder. Its okay. I don't mind" 'I know, but it's unfair to you to have your privacy invaded" he replied, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Hey, it's okay. Let's just go". Opening the car door, you took a deep breath to calm the nerves beginning to appear in your tummy.

But you needn't have worried. As soon as you opened the car door, Charles was by your side, lacing his fingers through yours, the other arm wrapping around your waist, to fully protect you from the prying cameras. Trying not to focus on how right it felt, to have his arm around your body, and to feel his fingers threading through your own. Your heart was beating so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it, considering how closely wrapped he was around your own body. As the Ferrari garage came into view, you began to calm down, and became aware of the fact that his arm was still wrapped around your waist, and his hand was still holding yours.

-------------------------------------------------------

Walking over from the Toro Rosso/Alpha Tauri garage, Pierre spotted Charles and Y/N making their way over to the Ferrari. Noticing the way Charles kept his arm tightly around Y/N, he couldn't help but grin, and assumed that Charles had finally told Y/N how he felt about her. Grinning even more broadly, he strutted over to the Ferrari garage, and walked over to where his best friend was standing with Mattia and his race engineer. "Hello, mon ami. I see you've finally done it?" somewhat confused, Charles turned to face the frenchmen, and asked, "Done what?" 'Told Y/N you love her" Pierre replied, watching his friends face glow the same red as the colour of his car and race suit. "What?! I have done no such thing. What would make you think that?"

"Let me think, because you've been in love with her since we were children. Come on Charles, don't chicken out now. You should definitely tell her. She is an extremely attractive woman, and I won't be surprised if someone else also likes her or asks her out. You two are made for each other. Now stop delaying !" Sighing, Charles just shook his head, and went into his drivers room, turning halfway to wave at his friend. Somewhat frustrated, he walked into the room, kicking the door in the process. "fanculo, idiota!" he mumbled, hands reaching up to his head to pull on his and let out a growl.

"Charles? You okay ?" Y/N asked, peeking her head into his room, slight concern in her E/C eyes. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just nervous" 'Nervous?' she asked walking in, and sitting down next to him. "Yeah, it's a big race, and points are very important if we want to beat Mercedes and actually win this year. Besides the last race wasn't that good, and Mattia was a little upset about it. I'm just a little nervous" Reaching out to take his hand into hers, Y/N ran a soft hand through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second. "Charles, listen to me. You are an incredibly talented person. When you get in the car, you push it to the limits and you give it everything. It's okay to be nervous, but you're on pole. I know you will give it your all, and every single person in this garage believes in you. And I believe in you the most. So go out there , and give it your everything. I know you can do it" As you had been speaking, Charles had been running his thumb over your knuckles, on the hand that was holding his, and when you finished, he raised it to his lips, and pressed his soft, pink lips to your knuckles.

"Thank you, tesoro" You froze. He had never called you 'sweetheart' before. You could feel your heart rate rising ever so slightly, and your breathing become slightly shallow, as his brown hazel eyes looked up into your own, and seemingly held your gaze. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, reaching upto a point where it was nearly suffocating. Heads leaning closer to each other, his hand tightening the grip he had on yours, sliding softly up your arm, as your eyes fluttered shut, the anticipation sending your heart rate up to crazy numbers. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips, almost hear his heartbeat, and hoping to God he couldn't hear how embarrassingly loud yours was. Just as your lips nearly touched, there was a knock on the door, and his race engineer, poked his head in, looking somewhat awkward. "Its time to go Charles, time to get in the car"

Sighing softly, he pulled away, as your eyes fluttered behind your eyelids. "Go and win this. I'll be cheering you on" you said, not quite meeting his eyes, but giving him a soft, half hearted smile. "Thanks" he said, giving your hand a squeeze, as he walked out to the garage to get in his car. Burying your head in your hands, you felt like you could scream, sob and punch something at the same time. Letting out a shaky breath, you ran a hand over your face and stood up, making your way up to where you were watching the race from.

-------------------------------------------------------

The race was over, and Charles had won 1st place, with Lewis in second and Valterri in third. As he had stood on the podium, he had found your face in the crowd, smiling and cheering for him, as you let out a whoop that he couldn't hear, but you didn't care. The adrenaline from the win was pumping through his veins, as he climbed down from the podium, eyes searching for you, as his teammates and crew congratulated him on his win, but he was really only half listening.

Then he saw you, standing in front of the garage, hair flying around in the wind that had picked up in the last lap of the race. Smiling as you looked up to see him, you began to run towards him, as he ran to meet you halfway. You jumped into his arms, as his wrapped around your thighs and your waist to keep you stable, as you wrapped yours around his muscled neck, leaning your forehead down to rest against his, as you muttered a soft "congratulations' in his ear, and pressed your lips to his temple, as his eyes closed, fully revelling in your embrace and body heat, not caring about how the paps had probably got a pretty good shot of you two, or how the tabloids were probably wetting themselves with article possibilities. 'thank you mon ange, thank you for supporting me" "anytime"

As you planted your feet back on the ground, and loosened your grip around him slowly, he moved his arm so one was wrapped around your waist, and the other rested loosely on his hip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pierre approaching, and smiled at his best friend. "Congratulation mon ami. That was a superb race. Y/N long time no see, seems like you have forgotten me"

Giggling, you stepped away from Charles to give him a hug. "Of course not, how could I forget my best friend! I was going to saw hello before the race but I didn't get the chance. Good race!" "Thank you, It's so good to see you again here. Looks like Charles has been taking up all your time" He said, smirking at the Monégasque driver, who blushed, before looking away. Laughing, you shook your head, moving your body closer to Charles's again. "Oh Y/N you should come to the party tonight. It's on a yacht, and we can have some good fun a well. What do you say ?' "Oh I'm in!"

"You can come as one of our plus ones" Pierre said, eyes shifting over to Charles's face which was the same colour as his bright red Ferrari suit. Charles wanted to punch and hug Pierre at the same time, clearly seeing what he was trying to do. "Yeah, okay I'll be there" "Great! See you then, bye for now. Go celebrate with your man"

"your man"

Why did that sound so right? Why did it make your heart burst with happiness? Why did you want him to be your man? And why did it seem like the one thing you wanted the most was the one thing you couldn't have.

-------------------------------------------------------

Looking at the mirror one last time, you smoothed out the silky material of the red satin dress you had decided to wear to the party. Paired with a black choker necklace, and a pair of sleek black heels to finish the outfit. You had gone bold with the makeup, winged liner and smoky eyeshadow. Finally, you had swiped a tube of ruby red lipstick across your lips, and sprayed some more -expensive -than -you -could -even -begin- to -fathom Gucci perfume that Charles had bought you for your birthday on your wrists, neck, ears, and body.

You didn't know what you were doing. But it felt good to be confident. It felt good to pretend as though you were completely in control, when all you wanted was to curl up in a little ball, and cry. You didn't know what you were doing, but it felt good to pretend as though you didn't care for Charles, when all you wanted to do was grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss his wonderfully soft, pink lips.

Shaking off your anxiety, you reached for the phone to call Pierre, who was supposed to pick you up and drive you to the party. Charles had wanted too, but he had to go and meet some friends who wanted to congratulate on his victory. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your black clutch, which had your phone, lipstick, tissues and your keys, just in time to hear a knock on the door. Walking over to the door of your Monaco apartment, you opened it to find Pierre, in a lovely light blue suit, hair slicked slightly with gel, and a Rolex on his wrist. As he looked at you, his eyes widened, and he looked at you in shock for a few seconds, before saying "You look absolutely stunning, princess. Absolutely gorgeous" "Thank you Pierre ! You're looking pretty dapper yourself, I must say" you replied, flashing him a smile. "Thank you Y/N/N. Someone won't be able to keep his eyes off of you" he said, smirking as he saw your eyes widen softly, as you grew visibly flustered. "Who?" You asked, suddenly interested in looking at the clutch in your hand. "Oh come on, Leonardo DiCaprio. Who do you think ?!'

"I don't know, Pierre. Why don't you tell me?"

"Ces deux idiots, Charles, you sweet dumbass!"

"Yeah right. Let's just go please, we are already late, and I don't want to be out for too long"

"Fine"

-------------------------------------------------------The party was extravagant. There were these model chicks everywhere, with the most minimal of clothing, drooling over whichever driver they could find. Charles had had this one blonde girl hit on him for nearly an hour, and he was nearing the end of his patience. He didn't want any random girl for a one night stand. He wanted Y/N. And she wasn't at the party yet. But God, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't stop thinking about the moment they had shared. They had almost kissed. His heart did little jumps whenever he thought about it, and GOD, he was not doing a good job at hiding it. Everyone in the room had noticed the lovestruck look on his face. From across the room, George and Alex made their way over the Monégasque driver, who looked lost, and slightly irritated.

"Hey man, good job today! That was an excellent race" "Thanks, you guys did brilliantly as well"

"So who's got you looking like a little lost puppy?" George asked, grinning at the man, who looked slightly flustered at his comment. "What? No one, just post race excitement I suppose?"

"I'm not taking your word for it. Who's the girl? Come on"

Just as Charles opened his mouth to speak, there was a slight distraction, as he turned towards the door on the left, where people kept coming and going, and his jaw dropped. It was Y/N. But she looked like an angel that had fallen from the heavens, and sent to bless his heart. As he watched her make her way across the room, with Pierre right behind her, he felt his mouth and throat become dry, and his heart felt like it was going to fail at any moment. His palms were becoming sweaty and he felt like a nervous wreck, ready to collapse at any moment.

"Wow, mate. Is that Y/N ? She looks stunning!" Alex said, smiling as he watched her make her way towards their little group. "Yeah it is mate. She looks absolutely gorgeous!" George said, waving to the woman as she neared them. Charles couldn't speak.He just stared. "When you've put your eyes back in your head, and closed your mouth, you could maybe compliment her, and finally ask her out." Alex said, noticing how his friend had become silent and kept opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

Laughing, George clapped Charles on the back, "Ah, so she's the one that's got you all lovey dovey. Good going mate, she's a beauty" As he finished speaking, Y/N had approached the group, and was saying hello to Alex. Leaning forward, George gave her a hug as well, having become acquainted with her through Pierre. "Y/N you look beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous" he said, smiling at her, "Thank you so much! You guys all look lovely too!"

'You're too kind Y/N, George looks like he hasn't even brushed his hair back properly" Alex joked, receiving a slight shove from the Brit. "And, Charles, what do you think? How do I look this fine evening?" you asked, turning to face him. His face was slightly flushed and he mumbled something that sounded like "mimblewimble" and then cleared his throat. "You look prettier than anyone here tonight. You look like an angel"

Completely awestruck at his words, all you could do was gape, and then mutter a soft thank you, and pray to God he couldn't feel the nerves radiating off of you. "Well, despite the lovely company, and palpable sexual tension, I'm going to go find Max and Daniel, and go get a drink" Alex said, giving Y/N a hug and leaving with George. Leaving you alone with a very flustered Charles. "Do you want to get out of here?' he asked suddenly, looking at you with his warm hazel brown eyes. "I just got here, but yes please. I already feel so out of place among these models and superstars" you said, giggling softly. "Well, they've got nothing on you. Trust me, you're fifteen times prettier than anyone else here"

"Thank you Charles" you said, smiling softly, and touching his arm. "Anytime,tesoro" there it was again, that nickname that had your heart jumping. The last time he had called you that you guys had almost kissed. The memory returned, filling your tummy with butterflies, and all you wanted to do was to grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss him. The two of you made your way down to the docks, where you had a special spot that was like a hidden cave, covered with some wildflowers and ivy, that you two had discovered when you guys were fifteen, and you had had a bad day at school. Charles had hugged you, and told you, "no matter how bad a day at school is, I will always be there to hug you and make you feel better, always" That was when you had fallen in love with him.

As you made your way to the cave, you shivered, the sea air that was blowing around was surprisingly chilly, and you had forgotten to bring a jacket. Being the gentleman that he was, Charles took of his dark blue suit jacket, and draped it around your soldiers. 'Can't have you freezing to death" "I won't" you replied, regretting your decision to wear heels. As the two of you reached the cave, you sat down on the floor, and pulled off your heels, and stretched your legs out, letting out a sigh as you did so. Smiling at your actions, Charles sat down next to you, his thigh brushing against yours, arm wrapping around your waist, as your head dropped onto his shoulder.Beneath you two, the water lapped gently against the rocks, and the soft sound was calming and soothing.

For a while, you stayed that way, you tracing random patterns onto his left hand, while his right arm that was wrapped around your waist traced circles on your waist. His head was resting on top of yours now, and in the chilly air, the warmth radiating off of his body was comforting. "Y/N, do you like Pierre?" he blurted out suddenly, making you look up at him in shock. "What makes you think that?' you asked, leaning slightly away from his body to look at his face properly. "Well, I just assumed, I guess, you do seem very very comfortable and happy around him" "Oh my god, you idiot" you said, giggling softly at the slight look of jealousy on his face. "Pierre was right"

"What was he right about ?"

"Nothing"

"Look I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from its just that I love you and -"

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his, as his arms wrapped around your torso, after initial surprise. Yours made his way to his shoulders, one on his shoulder, and the other to the back of his head, while his grip around your body tightened. You two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, bodies moulding into each other, lips fitting like two puzzle pieces together. This was what you had been missing from your life. This passionate, romantic, breath taking love, one that made your heart go 200 miles an hour and then stop.

Charles couldn't believe what was happening. He was kissing Y/N, and it felt so right. She was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume was clouding his senses in the best way possible, filling him with a new need, a hunger that had been growing for so long was finally being satiated, and it was electrifying. He slid his hands up her back, to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling ever so slightly, and revelling in the sound that left her lips.

Finally breaking away, panting and out of breath, he rested his forehead on hers. "je t'aime mon amour" he mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut. "I love you too. So much" Completely blissed out, the two remained in their embrace, neither of them wanting to break apart, from what felt like a dream. "Did you just kiss me, or am I dreaming" He asked, looking down at Y/N who had her head on his shoulder again.

"Why don't you kiss me again and find out ?"

"Of course, mon amour"

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#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 #pierre gasly #imthebadguyyfics #imthebadguyyyfics

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winter-soldier-vibes · 3 years

Note

just a wittle request, could you do something where bucky comforts the reader who has mommy issues after she has a panic attack over the thought of turning out like her mother?

Hi there, sorry this took so long! I still haven’t processed my own so I had to take a few breaks. I apologize if this is off the path of what you meant, I’m going off of my own experience but I know it’s different for everyone.

You're nothing like her.

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3219

Warnings: mommy issues, toxic childhood, talk of divorce, panic attack/anxiety, negative self-talk

A/N: This takes place in a timeline where Bucky is retired

-------------

You did everything you could to avoid it. To avoid her

You left home as soon as you could. When you were in college you were surrounded by people who were homesick, people who wanted to go home, people who finally had to take care of themselves. Things you couldn’t relate to.

You had been supporting yourself most of your life. Not that you had much of a choice. Your dad left when you were younger, your mother blaming it on you. If you had been better, maybe he wouldn’t have left. You, being young, believed her. What else were you supposed to do, growing up in a world that preaches ‘mother knows best’?

Load of bullshit to you.

You knew better now, being an adult, that she didn’t know best. She worked or went out with friends and left you to raise yourself, telling you it was your fault when she neglected her responsibilities. And when you would get upset she would play the victim, crying ‘woe is me’ because you were so ungrateful to the person who raised you after you drove her husband out.

“You know it’s your fault right?” she had snapped at you one night at dinner. There was a graded paper, a B written on the top of it.

“What?”

“You’re the reason he left me. He just couldn’t stand you. You’re the reason why he left and why I’m so miserable now.”

You had felt tears in your eyes.

“Tears, really? Tears aren't going to change the fact that MY husband LEFT.”

Her husband, not your father.

No, you knew better now to know that what she had done and said was wrong. But that didn’t make you forget. It didn’t make it any easier for you.

You went to college, saved up as much as you could, and gave tight-lipped smiles when people asked why you didn’t go home on weekends or vacations. You tried not to talk about her much, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about her.

You had stood at your college graduation, caps thrown and loud laughs and cheers echoing around. There were a bunch of people celebrating around you, taking photos, but you had stood on the outskirts. You had a small smile on your face for everyone else, but you couldn’t help but feel empty inside. You hadn’t made many friends, not close friends, but that was a good thing. You could take the photo so no one was left out.

Not so much of a text from her. She hadn’t come, she hadn’t called or anything.

In a twisted way, you were glad that she hadn’t. She couldn’t make a big deal about how you weren’t the top of your class or how you didn’t deserve to be. How you didn’t have a job set up to start the next week even though you already were planning on submitting your resumes. There wasn’t a way to please her, so it was almost better that she wasn’t there.

You had texted her after a few days and she made up some bullshit excuse that she had forgotten to put it on the calendar.

She liked your Instagram photo though. So thoughtful

You worried you would turn out the same way. Or that she had rubbed off on you in some way. You kept to yourself as much as you could, staying in, keeping your emotions to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust people, maybe it was, but more so you were worried that you would seem like you were playing the victim.

You didn’t want to bother anyone or make anyone feel obligated to listen to you. You worried that behind your back they would complain about you being emotional or making everything about you.

You worried they would talk about you the same way you thought about your mother.

People are supposed to look to their parents to teach them what to be, yet you found yourself wanting to avoid everything your parents did to you. They taught you exactly who you didn’t want to be.

Your father left. Your mother hated you.

You didn’t share your opinions because you didn’t want to be told you were wrong. You didn’t want to force your ideas onto anyone. Not like what you said would make a difference anyway, not that it mattered in the first place.

You remembered all of the sentences you would start but not finish because no one had heard you. Trying to jump in a few times and eventually giving up when the conversation had moved onto a new subject. All the times people would interrupt or interject, making you feel like you didn’t have something to say that was worth hearing.

You thought it would get better when you got a job. But the pressure you put on yourself to do well in school was transferred to the job you had gotten. You still were afraid that people saw yourself as your mom used to and that you would never be good enough for anyone. You thought that achievements would make you feel fulfilled.

But if you didn’t believe in yourself, what were a few “job well done's” supposed to do?

It made it hard to get into a relationship. People say that “you have to love yourself before you can love someone else,” but that didn’t feel so true to you. It was more that you didn’t trust yourself to love someone else. You worried about hurting whoever you were with, and you told yourself that if you didn’t get close to anyone, you couldn’t hurt them.

But then you ran into him.

He was on a morning run and you were walking home from a night shift, both too tired to see each other coming. You because you had just finished a shift, him because he was running off the nightmare he had had the night previous. Both of you craving a sleep that seemed just out of reach.

You were very apologetic, as was he, both afraid that you had hurt the other. You avoided his eyes even though they were trained anywhere but your own, as he fiddled with his gloved hands and you scratched the back of your neck.

It was the first time either of you had seen someone as unsure as yourselves

You had parted ways with only each other's names. Bucky and y/n.

The two of you crossed paths a few times in the following weeks, eventually getting each other’s phone numbers and agreeing to meet for coffee rather than hoping the other left at the right time. Eventually, the subtle nervous tics each of you had died down as you got to know each other.

For the most part.

You still overly apologized for everything. If you were a few minutes late, if you spaced out...you took the blame for everything.

Traffic had been bad, a storm and an accident causing you to be 5 minutes late rather than 15 minutes early. You had run into the coffee shop, scanning the restaurant with wide eyes when you saw Bucky sitting there casually.

“I am so so so sorry, I should’ve left earlier, there was an accident, I’m so sorry I’m late -”

“Y/n, don’t worry about it,” he had said, a smile on his face and a slight flash of concern on his face. “Seriously, it’s a couple of minutes. It’s literally fine.”

“No, I’m really sorry, I should’ve known or called or something.”

“Relax. It’s totally fine, I promise,” he had said, concern a little more present on his face. “Are you okay though?”

“What? Yeah, I’m good. How have you been with everything?

You wouldn’t let him talk about you. The same way your mother never let you talk about yourself.

Don’t think about her.

He had started opening up to you but you still kept your personal life under lock and key. Your name, how work was, and your physical well-being was about as personal as you got. Even so, if work had been a shit show or you had to pull an all-nighter would go unspoken. He didn’t need the burden of your personal issues. Not when there was nothing he could do about it.

The past was the past, you just had to learn how to get over yourself.

You couldn’t change what your mother had said over a decade ago.

You worried if you talked about yourself at all then you would be making the situation about you. You worried you would project your anger or sadness onto him. He didn’t deserve that. Plus, it wasn’t like he would be able to do anything, right?

You promised yourself you wouldn’t let him get too close. That if he didn’t get close to you, you couldn’t hurt him.

But damn, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t start developing feelings for him. And from the way he had started acting, you thought maybe he was too.

The hugs that were ever so slightly too tight or when he smiled at you a little longer than normal. He had opened up to you about many things in his past, and from the way he talked about it, you could tell he hadn’t talked about it much with anyone else.

You found comfort in your friendship, the way he trusted you. You liked being there for him, and you were honored that he trusted you enough to open up to you. Yet it also made you uneasy that you would ruin it in some way or drive him out.

The same way your mom drove out your father.

Goddamn it don’t think about her.

The closer you got and the closer you and Bucky had gotten, the more nervous you were. That you would turn out like your mother. You were having a harder time keeping to yourself, keeping up the façade that everything was all bright in your world. You wanted to be a light for everyone.

But at some point, days turn to nights and the light gives way to the darkness.

And you weren’t sure how much time you had left before you cracked.

Bucky had started making small moves towards you, and you were trying your best to deflect them in efforts to not fall flat on your face for him. He came over Wednesday nights for a movie and take out with you, and what started as being on two opposite ends of the couch had moved to being next to each other to him having his arm wrapped around you. Sometimes you felt he was a little too close and you would either shift away or get up to grab another drink or ‘use the bathroom’.

When you came back you would make an attempt to sit a bit further away.

Sometimes when Bucky would say goodbye at the end of the night he would hug you. That was nothing new, you were both big on hugs, but lately, he had been hugging you longer or tighter, lingering a few moments longer than could be platonic. You had started ending the hugs earlier, giving him a small squeeze before pulling away.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with Bucky. It was that you were so scared that you would drive him away, leaving you as soon as you had started calling yourself his.

Which is what brought you here. Bucky had come over for another one of your movie nights and had his arm behind the couch rather than around you. An invitation for you to curl into his side, but he wanted you to make that choice. Eventually, you had found yourself curled up with him, his arm wrapped around you, and you could feel the tension.

You wanted to move away before you found yourself in too deep, but you couldn’t resist. It had been a long day and you found comfort with Bucky. Bucky turned his face slightly towards yours, kissing the side of your temple and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Your mind told you to shift away, to not let him get too close, but you found yourself turning your head towards Bucky and he leaned forward to kiss you gently.

After a moment you broke away, emotion taking over you. “I’m sorry, Bucky, I - I can’t do this,” you said, resting your forehead against his.

“Why not?” Bucky whispered, looking into your eyes.

Because I’ll hurt you.

I’ll disappoint you.

I’ll drive you away and I can’t lose the best thing that’s happened to me.

You sighed, standing up and moving away from Bucky. You couldn’t say those things to him out loud. Not without the entire story. And you weren’t ready to share all of that with him.

Bucky stood up with you, afraid he had just ruined the friendship or whatever relationship he had with you. “Y/n, wait, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You had already left the room and couldn’t really hear him over the sound of your thoughts.

This wasn’t supposed to happen

I wasn’t supposed to let this happen

How could I be so stupid?

You were feeling tears in your eyes and Bucky followed you, afraid of what he did. Your breathing was picking up and you had started mumbling some of these things to yourself.

“Y/n, what’s happening, what did I do?”

You shook your head “You didn’t do anything, but I need you to leave, please,” you said, trying to hide your emotions. You hated being like this.

“I’m not going anywhere y/n, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Get the fuck out of here Bucky! I don’t want your help!” you snapped suddenly, Bucky looking taken aback before your eyes widened.

“Oh god…”

You shook your head and started crying harder, stumbling over your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that, I didn’t mean to yell, I’m so sorry Bucky please don’t leave I'm so sorry.”

Bucky came forward and hugged you gently and you cried into his shirt. He whispered comforting words into your ear as you tried to breathe, embarrassed at how vulnerable you were being.

Bucky kept his breathing slow and even, trying to get you to match him. He had no idea what was happening but he knew he needed you to calm down before he asked. Whatever it was had to be something deep, and you weren’t in the space to talk about it right now.

He brought you over to sit on the corner of your bed, still hugging you as you cried. You were mumbling out apology after apology but Bucky wasn’t having any of it. He kept hugging you, telling you that he wasn’t going anywhere and that you were safe. He had never seen you so upset, or upset at all to begin with.

After you had calmed down a bit, Bucky asked you again what had happened. You shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I’ve opened up about so many things to you, right?” he pulled back to look at you.

You nodded slightly.

“And you’ve never judged me for any of it.”

You shook your head this time.

“Then why can’t you let me do the same for you?”

You took a deep breath, fiddling with your hands. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” you said, not meeting his eyes.

Bucky drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “Y/n, you’ve been the nicest person I’ve ever met. How would you hurt me?”

You were already shaking your head. “No, see, that’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna be nice and sweet and...and I’m gonna fall in love with you, and you’re gonna fall in love with me. A-and then I’m gonna let you down over and over again and snap at you for things that aren’t your fault and...and you’ll get sick of it and leave and I’m going to hate myself for it, okay?”

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Bucky held your shoulders as they started shaking. You brought a hand to cover your mouth, Bucky hushing you again. “What are you talking about? Where is this coming from?”

You took a shaky breath as you ran a hand over your face. “I’m just like her, Bucky. I told myself I would never let myself be like her…”

“Like who?” Bucky asked, blood already boiling at who made you feel like this.

Her.

You weren’t supposed to think about her.

You promised yourself.

“Y/n, stay with me here,” he said, guiding your face back to look at him. “Who?”

“My mother.”

Bucky looked at you for a moment. “What?”

“You know, mothers bring you into the world. They say a mother knows when something is wrong with their kid, that babies are put on their mother’s chest because the skin-to-skin contact starts the bonding process. They’re supposed to protect you, and love you, and take care of you. But then you start to get older and it’s your fault that you were born when you didn’t ask, or your dad left and it’s your fault before you even knew he was gone. All I wanted was to be told what to do and all she would do is tell me what I did wrong. I can’t be like her and the older I get the more scared I am that I’m going to hurt everyone the way that she hurt my father and me.”

You had started crying again as Bucky looked at you, both broken-hearted and furious that someone would make you feel this way. Not to mention it was your own mother.

You took another shaky breath. “I thought the world of her when I was younger. And she barely even gave me the time of day. I keep telling myself that I’m not what she thought of me, but what if I am?” you shook your head again. “And I am so scared that I’m just like her.”

“Y/n, look at me, I need you to look at me when I say this, okay?” he cupped your face with both hands, wiping away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he looked into your eyes. “You are nothing like your mother.”

You let out a small sob. “You don’t know her.”

“I don’t need to,” he said firmly. “You are kind and gentle. You work hard and you make sure that everyone is taken care of before you even consider yourself. You aren’t going to scare me away or hurt me.” He wiped fresh tears from your eyes. “You are your own person, your mother has no say in who you get to be. Who you are. You are not your mother, and you never will be.” he said, still holding your gaze.

You held his gaze a little longer, knowing he believed what he was saying. You didn’t, not quite yet, but maybe if he believed in you, you could too. You nodded slightly, giving him the smallest of smiles. “Thank you.”

Bucky returned the small smile. “You know I love you, right?”

“I love you too,” you said, smiling.

You meant it, and you knew he did too. And maybe one day, you would love who you’d become too.

------------

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everyhowlmarksthedead · 3 years

Text

; good enough

lee bodecker x fem!reader.

summary. your father invited you to his birthday party and things ended badly.

words. about 2.3k.

warnings, tags. nsfw, +18!!! drunk state, language, unprotected sex, daddy!kink, very brief degradation, mention of bodily fluids, very brief mention of violence. and i think that's all.

a / n. first time writing for this man that has me obsessed, so i hope y'all like it! none of my writings contains reader's body descriptions to be inclusive. if you find something out of place, please send me a message and i'll change it.

You didn't want to be there, but it was your father's birthday and you couldn't miss it. More than thirty minutes had passed since the last time you saw your husband standing in a corner of the large living room, sipping from his glass of whisky and judging every guest around in silence. Lee hated your parents, your family, their friends. And you didn't blame him. Your family never accepted him, always repeating that he wasn't good enough for you, nor your interests. Except for your mom. She wasn't the only one who didn't treat him like dirt.

Once that you escaped from your father's arms, showing you as a trophy and trying to set you up on a date with one of his best friend's sons, you stepped out of the house to the back garden. It was cold outside, having to close your jacket around your chest as you closed both arms over it. Following the footprints on the grass, you reached the improvised parking where different cars were stationed. The smoke coming from nowhere called your attention, glimpsing Lee sitting on the hood of his black Ford. Cigarette in his left hand and bottle of whisky in his right.

You doubted for a second to interrupt his moment of peace for the first time in two weeks. Two long weeks where you barely had spent time together. He started holding over his shifts because, apparently, there was too much paperwork to attend. You couldn't help but think that he was raving mad about you, or about something you did unconsciously. But the real problem was that your husband never used to talk about his feelings or what was going in his mind.

“I think you've drunk enough”. You uttered watching him raise the bottle to his lips.

Lee chuckled ironically, shaking his head. “Lucky me I don' care”.

Frowning and with your mouth pressed closed, you walked towards his position to face him. He had never talked to you like that, but he was being honest, shrugging his shoulders to point it out a little more.

“I do. I do care”.

“Don' worry, darlin'. I ain't gonna shame you in front of your family”. He scoffed bitterly, finally sipping from his drink. “Watya' doin' here anyway? Party's indoors”.

“You're here tho”.

“And who fuckin' cares, uh? You were having so much fun inside with that… pretty boy who works in Wall Street”. Your husband mocked taking a drag from his cigarette. “We should divorce, don' you think? So you coulda go with him to the big city, and don' be stuck in… How d'your father call it? Knockemshit. Stuck with a… fat sheriff of a shitty town”.

Lee didn't notice the tears blurring your gaze till he raised his face. The bitter smile curving his lips suddenly disappeared, putting his pale blue eyes away from you because it was too painful for him to watch you cry. Your husband gulped hardly, kissing his teeth as he threw the cigar somewhere on the ground. You couldn't believe he really wanted to divorce you, wrapping your heart with a suffocating sorrow that barely let you breathe. He was your life and, after three years together, he seemed to not give a shit about it sometimes.

“I ain' like them”. You whispered sniffing.

“Tha' doesn' change the fact that you don' deserve a man like me. Your father is right. 'M a fucking loser compared to anyone inside his damn house”.

You loved Lee with all your heart, soul, mind, body. He was everything you want in your existence —your life. So damn obsessed with his touch, his kisses, his smell of wind and leather, his smile, that beautiful pair of pale blue eyes. You refused to believe he was talking seriously.

“You should be there. I— Imma go home, tell your mo—”.

Before your husband could finish his goodbye, you interrupted him by slapping his face. He didn't see that coming and you'd never imagine yourself hitting him. But you needed it, seeming the only way to stop him from abandoning you there. He kept his face away from you, trying to comprehend what had just happened. His drunkenness suddenly disappeared, pressing his inner cheek with the tip of his tongue whilst rubbing his hand over the reddened skin. You were so mad right now that you could set on fire the whole world.

And you were about to do it a second time when Lee caught your wrist in the air, painfully gripping his fingers around it to push you closer —chest against chest. Then, he raised his index finger. “Don' you fuckin' dare to try it again, y'hear me?”

You were furiously breathing, but not filling your lungs with air in reality, keeping your eyes on the blue ones that used to steal your heart every single day. It was like a contest of dominance you knew he always won. Any time.

Your husband didn't give you the chance to say sorry, slamming his lips on yours. A moan died in his tongue when it invaded your cavity while releasing your arm to fly his rough big hands to your ass, almost grabbing it all with his long fingers. Your digits went to the lapels of his leather jacket, not lasting too much there till finishing on the back of his head.

Lee was hungry for you, just like you were for him after two long weeks barely touching each other. Your husband devoured, sucked, and bit your lips, urging you to turn around enough to push you on top of the hood of his car. His hands pulled up the skirt of your dress, wanting to reach the waistband of your panties, receiving the great surprise that you weren't wearing any.

“You little dirty girl… Don' wantin' your Sheriff to lose time, uh?” He grunted with such an animal and eager tone, as he took care of the belt and the zip of his pants.

“I need you”. You sobbed against his lips, feeling his hands maneuvering between your legs.

At least, you were fast enough to cover your mouth with a hand when Lee rammed his rock dick into your soaked cunt, drowning in your palm a loud cry of pure satisfaction for being filled by your husband. Back and forth, he hit your body once and once, impaling you against the Ford still being furious by the way your father and friends treated him as if it was your fault. Lee was mad, really mad, digging his fingers in your hips to pin you on place and don't move, continuing fucking you harder and harder —challenging you to not be able to be quiet and make everybody heard how good he used to made you feel.

“Goddammit… you're so damn ti— tight, baby doll… So tight fo— for your daddy, ain' ya?”

“Yes… Yes, daddy”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck.

His strong scent filling your lungs caused you to roll your eyes white, letting your soul leave your body while his cock attacked fiercely your pussy with no mercy. Your vocals were in sync with the screeching noise the car produced in every thrust straight to your guts. The pace was insane, intense than never before, and more pleasurable than you could imagine in your life.

Lee was aware how much you loved him, that you felt devotion for him. But sometimes —sometimes like those— he couldn't help but think he could lose you as soon as you realized who he was in reality. You didn't care. You weren't blind. You knew about his dirty laundry, his past, his sister (...). And you still wanted him with all your heart and body.

“Fu— Fuck, gonna put a… baby inside you”. He growled, wrapping his right around your throat to urge you to face him. “Y'want it, uh? D'you want dad— daddy to put a baby in that… beautiful belly?”

“Yes… please, Lee”. You whined with teary eyes, being too much pleasure for your body to handle. “Please, daddy… I wa— want you to… get me pre— pregnant with your child”.

Your husband's lips curved up in a petty smirk, pulling out from your dripping cunt, causing you to sob in disappointment. Lee managed to put you down on your shaky feet to turn you and force you to bend over the hood of his car. Ass upped, legs spread. He only took a second to stare at your glistening and abused folds in your arousal, prior to impaling you again. With a hand on your lower back and the other tangled in your head, your husband obligated you to arch your back as he continued banging your anatomy once and again.

At this point, you had forgotten your name, where you are, and if someone could hear how you cried pleased any time he crashed against your g-spot. It was a mix of pleasure and pain as Lee wasn't having any kind of compassion with your cunt, clenching unconsciously around his hard length. He knew then how close you were to cumming for him —because of him—, increasing the pace while you tried to find a place to put your hands on and find some balance to stay in place. As soon as the hand tangled in your hair landed back to your throat, you gripped five fingers around his wrist, enjoying the brief lack of air because of it.

“C'mon, my swe— sweet whore… Y'wanna cum for daddy, don't ya?”

His raspy and wrecked voice fell into your ear like an angelic melody, not being able to hold your moans anymore within your mouth. The knot inside your lower belly was bigger and bigger and suffocating, feeling how it could explode at any time. Lee shoved his cock non-stopping producing a sloppy obscene sound when his pelvis crashed against your ass, along the chink of his belt against the back of your thigh.

“Daddy… Daddy…” You called him while the tears started to fall again through your cheeks, this time, of absolute satisfaction.

You couldn't help but bite your lip strongly till the metallic taste of blood covered your tongue, letting yourself go as the knot bursted within your belly. The orgasm threw you above the edge with your husband's palm covering your mouth to not be heard or it would be really awkward to be caught by all the guests, even if he didn't care. He wouldn't mind showing that pretty boy from New York that nobody could fuck his little dirty girl better than himself. Oh, how funny it would be to see his face while your husband was ramming his cock into your abused pussy, cumming inside your tight walls, digging his teeth in your neck to mark his territory.

Lee came with a sensual and passionate hoarse gasp causing you goosebumps bristling your skin, burying himself balls deep to hold it inside the mix of your juices filling up your center. It felt like being in Heaven, although you weren't sure if you could walk after such an intense quickly, feeling your walls burning as his dick still twitching and stretching your cunt.

Your husband wasn't a man of kisses after sex, that's why he surprised you when tilted your face to his and pressed his lips on yours, panting, not caring about the lack of breath. It wasn't a lustful kiss either, more than a tender and fondly one, tasting your mouth, playing with your tongue.

Pulling out his semi-erection, Lee helped you to clean yourself with a tissue before using it to clean your arousal on him and toss it to the ground. As he put on his pants, you fixed your dress and your hair, turning around.

“You meant it?” You dared to ask, still having sorrow covering your voice. “Gettin' divorced… You mean it?”

“What?” He inquired, squinting confusedly until he realized what you were talking about. He chuckled holding your chin with two fingers. “You married me, darlin'. There's no other way you're gonna spend your life but with me. Willingly or not, you hear me?”

Lee raised both eyebrows very sure of his word before you nodded your head with a fleeting smile crossing your lips.

“Can we go home now…?”

“'S that what you want?”

You nodded your head a second time, while your husband placed his arms around you with hidden possessiveness to guide you back to your childhood's house. And of course, your father was enraged when you told him that you were leaving with your husband. He yelled at you and nobody tried to stop him till the moment he had the brilliant idea of pretending to lay a hand on you.

Lee punched him. Lee broke his nose. Lee made your father fall to the floor between the pretty boy's arms. And Lee never felt better in his whole damn life.

“Don't you ever come back to this house, if you leave now with this… bastard”.

“She doesn' need you”. Your husband cooed wrapping your neck with an arm, leaning slightly to borrow your purse. “Ma'am, my pleasure a see ya' again. The beef was delicious. G'night”.

You were yet processing what just happened, ashamed of the desire for your husband himself awakened inside you after watching him hitting your father. Lee could be a total asshole sometimes but one thing was undeniable: he loved you with all his heart and soul, he was obsessed with you since the very first time his oceanic eyes contemplated you walking down the street, smelling a bucket of roses you bought for yourself.

Never again you knew anything about your family. Not even when your son, called after your husband, was born. But you weren't sad. As Lee said, you didn't need them. You had your own family to take care of.

feedback is appreciated. if you enjoyed it, please leave a comment so i can know your opinion. reblogs are needed.

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#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x female reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker smut #sheriff lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction

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mirkwoodshewolf · 3 years

Text

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there. So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@ixchel-9275

@psychosupernatural

@queen-paladin

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it. Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea. I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George. I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers. When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell. Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall. Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it. The sound of a young girl crying. I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair. The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek. “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n). Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand. She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground. I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse. I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister. I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck. “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad. I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back. That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her. She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment. I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed. “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through. Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort. Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying. “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said. Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me. Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave. I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent. I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her. She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile. She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs. I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this. I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express. As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes. He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making. By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news. After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me. She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him. (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James. She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back. “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it. The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

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