#but I had a sad angsty hurt/comfort moment and needed to share it with everyone | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stxrvel · 3 years

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mixed feelings (2)

summary: the second time you found out about one of Bucky's appointments, it hurt no less than the first.

pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!reader

words: +2.5k

warnings: i think this is angsty and mention of some bad words, and also you know Englist is not my native language, so sorry for any mistakes!

note: you can blame your eyes tell (bts) for the way this turned out, because i had definitely planned something a bit different, and totally less sad than this. but still, hope you enjoy and thank u for the support!

part 1

part 3

The mission with Steve wasn't too bad. A pile of physical files to go through and upload, hoping to find a lead on who you'd been looking for for weeks, half discarded and half scattered in a room in the Complex waiting to be reviewed. And while Bucky and Sam were right when they said you and Steve had silences, this time they weren't awkward, just moments when the two of you were focused on your pile or files, and filled the silence from time to time with questions or funny comments. It was a little different than you thought it would be, and you made a mental note not to allow yourself to be talked down to again.

The only one that left you wondering of your few conversations, was the one you had on the way back, in one of the agency trucks, with Steve sitting across from you in the back of the car:

“Have you talked to Bucky lately?” he had said, his hands clasped in front of him.

You frowned at him before replying, “Yeah, we talked a bit before we left.”

Steve merely nodded, his gaze turning back to the landscape you were leaving behind, with the mountains and their white peaks and the breeze that heralded autumn. You stood watching him, waiting for him to say more, but he kept his words to himself as if he had gotten all he needed to know.

“Why?” you couldn't help but ask.

He turned to watch you out of the corner of his eye before returning his gaze, shrugging a shoulder, trying to downplay his sudden curiosity to know something about you and Bucky. Steve had always kept his distance from his friend's relationships, and he'd especially kept his distance from you, so it struck you as odd that he decided to ask now.

“Nothing specific. I just wanted to... know.”

And there the conversation died, mainly because you could quickly deduce that he wasn't going to say anything else no matter how many times you asked. But the thorn of doubt hadn't been able to leave your head for the past three days, incessantly wondering what it was that he really wanted to know, as you sifted through document after document from the large pile you had brought back from the empty facility. Steve accompanied you from time to time, and you were sure he noticed your glance at his figure from time to time by the half-smile he gave you but never turned to look at you.

Suspicious.

“Y/N,” you heard your name in the distance. You turned your head, noticing Melissa, one of your roommates, one of the three with whom you shared the flat you were now in.

Everyone in the Complex had gone out, they just had things to do and you definitely had no plans to stay there locked in your room or wandering the halls alone. When you told Carla, another one of your roommates, she promptly asked you to go, as they were cooking a big dinner and not to celebrate anything specific, just to spend a Friday night comfortably and all together, and surely at the end they would watch a horror movie.

These moments were one of the reasons why you had decided to maintain a constant visit to the flat despite almost living in the Complex. Your roommates didn't hesitate to include you in their plans at any time, no matter where you were or what you were doing, they would wait for you to arrive to start.

Except this time Melissa, Carla and Tim had already started cooking when you wrote to them.

“There's more cheese missing for the sauce, would you mind going to the shop?” Tim looked at you with a little pout.

“But don't go to the one on the corner,” Carla spoke next, her hands nimbly chopping a vegetable on the wooden board, “When you arrived, did you see that Mrs. Williams opened her own shop on the first floor, next to reception?”

You nodded to Carla, as you started to get up and made your way to the counter in front of the kitchen to take some of the money you kept for shopping.

“Buy her a pound of mozzarella cheese and a pound and a half of cheddar cheese.”

“What's the difference from the cheeses at the corner shop?”

“Mrs. Williams' nephew made the cheeses she's selling and honestly, they're some of the best cheese I've ever tasted in my entire life,” Carla praised and Melissa hummed in agreement with her.

“We pulled out some of the one we bought at noon, and it's like a heaven of sensations exploding in your mouth. Just delicious.”

Tim let out a laugh and trotted over to stop in front of you at the counter, “Imagine Melissa with the same expression as Remy from Ratatouille.”

You accompanied him with a laugh as Melissa watched you with narrowed eyes, “If I didn't have my hands full with this fruit, I'd strangle you, Jones.”

You watched Tim roll his eyes before continuing on with his assigned task in the kitchen.

With the money in your hands, you hurried to the exit with a smile on your face. Being in the flat with them was like restarting your day, if it had been a bad one, or completely sweetening a bitter day. You turned the doorknob to open the door and stepped out, just as you heard the jingle of the elevator stopping on your floor. You started to walk straight to the stairs, because it wasn't too far from your flat to the reception, but a sharp intake of breath stopped you.

You looked up as he mumbled your name, “Y/N.”

“Bucky.”

The explosion of emotions in your chest was indescribable, and your heart was beating so unabashedly fast you could hear it behind your ears. The nervous feeling you'd wanted to get rid of since that afternoon you'd talked to him had returned, as if you'd never practiced breathing exercises to avoid looking as panting and shocked as you did that time. All to avoid him noticing how much his presence around you affected you, how easily he altered your senses and how your body reacted unconsciously to his actions and his looks.

“Hi,” you said faintly as he stepped out of the lift and stopped in front of you with an indecipherable expression. Sometimes you wish you knew what was going on in his head, or you wished you were confident enough that he would decide to tell you that sort of thing once in a while.

“Hello,” he replied, totally oblivious to the revolution going on inside you, just because he was there, in the building you lived in. What was he doing there? And it couldn't be a mistake, he knew you lived there, “Are you on your way out?” he asked, pointing at you with the nonchalant gesture he always had, as if he was made of stone and nothing ever affected him.

You hesitated a bit before answering, “Yeah, I'm just going to get something. The guys are preparing a buffet for tonight.”

You didn't know how you managed to make your voice come out nonchalant and unconcerned, at least enough so that Bucky didn't notice the unease coursing through your body. He nodded, half-smiling a tight-lipped smile.

“Fury told me the mission was excellent. Besides the documents, did you and Steve find anything interesting to talk about?”

You sketch a smile freely, almost mimicking his amused gesture, feeling your shoulders loosen for a few seconds and a calmness dominate your mind, “Actually yes, we talked a lot about... uhm.... the weather, and the dust...”

Bucky let out a laugh, letting go of that part of him that was extremely self-conscious when there were too many people around him. His eyes narrowed in the most beautiful way, standing out with a twinkle you couldn't quite put a name to, and the corners of his lips forming your favourite curve of his face. As he watched you, you had the fleeting feeling that his eyes were telling you a million things, treasuring that moment just as you were doing. But just as quickly as that thought came, just as quickly it vanished. And, again, Bucky tensed his shoulders.

“Don't think about it too much, it's not personal. Steve has a hard time sometimes finding the words to talk to the person he likes.”

You didn't know why Bucky was so restrained if there was no... wait, what the fuck?

“What?” you exclaimed, surely with your eyes bulging and your brow furrowed. Your body tensed as you watched the gaze of the man in front of you turn wary and confused.

“What about what? Didn't he tell you?”

“Tell me-? Bucky, what are you talking about?”

“Well, Steve likes you. Probably from the moment he met you.”

You felt a ringing in your ears and the world reel for a few moments. You looked at Bucky's face without really watching, your mind miles away, at the little moments you'd shared with Steve, at the talks about movies, in the kitchen preparing anything, his attitudes on missions... his question when you were returning from your last mission.

But could he really have meant the same thing?

And why the hell wouldn't he mean the same thing?

Holy shit.

“I'm sorry, I thought he told you. But I didn't have time to ask him because I haven't seen him since you got back from the mission. It's like... he's avoiding me,” he added the last with his face contorted in confusion and disbelief, as if that was something impossible to believe, or as if Steve could never do something like that.

“No, well...” you interrupted yourself, your body jerking in unease as you stared anywhere that was Bucky's face, not really knowing what words wanted to come out of your mouth, “Steve didn't- he didn't tell me anything.”

Bucky let out a sigh, his body shifting slightly as he slipped one of his hands into one of his pockets.

“I should have known better,” he muttered, and now he was the one avoiding your gaze.

With your shoulders tense and your expression surely frizzled, your mind began to create a lot of conjectures that, if you said them out loud, you were sure would make no sense at all.

But Bucky, he was there, why else would he be there, in the building you live in?

“How long have you known?”

Bucky raised his gaze to meet yours. His eyes inspected yours for a few seconds that felt like an eternity, as if he wanted to discover something just by watching them, until he finally sighed before saying, “Not long ago, actually. Though I've had my suspicions for some time, he confirmed it himself a couple of weeks ago.”

Your brow furrowed.

“Is that why you walked away?”

“What?”

“Is that why you walked away from me, Bucky?” you repeated, grief searing your chest as the seconds ticked by without his response. A flame of hope flared in your chest, even though you had a feeling this wasn't going to end well, you refused to extinguish it, waiting, impatiently really, and scared, for the stupefied man in front of you to respond.

Bucky stirred, his chest rising and falling a little faster than normal, and his gaze dropped to various points in the hallway only to avoid looking at you as he replied, hesitantly, “No, I- I didn't walk away.”

Filled with sudden courage, you reproached him, “Don't deny it, Barnes. Coincidentally when I was at the Complex you were disappearing, even these last few days. Before perhaps I could say that our schedules crossed, but now?”

“Not now-” he hesitated, and your chest puffed out with anticipation. You knew it wasn't good but you couldn't stop now. You thought if you pushed him to the limit maybe he could say it, and you knew that wasn't the way, much less with him, but what he'd said had changed everything, and suddenly you found yourself with the wild need to hear something from him, something good, that would confirm everything you were thinking. But, “It's all the same Y/N, nothing has changed.”

You frowned at him, and clasping your hands together you ignored the pang of pain that spread through your chest, “Except everything changed, Bucky. You've been different when we're not alone. It's- it's impossible not to notice.

Bucky shook his head, his head shaking frantically, and for a moment you thought he was trying to convince not only you, but himself as well, “I have no reason to change just because I knew Steve liked you. Or are you assuming that knowing that bothers me?”

His suddenly defensive and haughty attitude, even though you knew it was one of his possible reactions, stunned you for a few seconds. You stared directly into his once soft, now hardened eyes, just to reassure yourself that he was there and wasn't going anywhere, even though you knew the illusion wasn't going to do any good. The fear that coursed through your veins you hadn't felt in quite some time, and the disastrous anticipation clouded your reason as his brow furrowed and he tilted his head as if he had just come to a conclusion.

“You think I like you, Y/N? And that knowing Steve likes you would make things a little different?”

Your lips parted, and suddenly you felt your mouth go dry. Bucky's blank expression as he said that pierced your chest like a dagger, his indifferent eyes fixed on yours, showing you your own agonised reflection from the bottom. You felt as if you had just fallen into a bottomless pit of sadness.

“I- no- I didn't mean it that way...”

“It doesn't bother me how Steve feels about you, Y/N,” he interrupted you in your poor attempt to pick up the central point of the conversation, and you felt like at any moment you might fall uselessly to the ground surrounded in your own tears and ache, “and it certainly hasn't changed anything either. I'm still me, we're still the same. If I want to get on with my life now or focus on aspects I hadn't thought about before, does that make me the bad guy?”

“No, Bucky, that wasn't what-”

He interrupted you again, “Then what's the problem?”

The hardness of his expression broke your heart, and you were sure he could tell the tears that had welled up in your eyes because seconds after he spoke, you couldn't see him clearly. His figure was a blur, an ambiguous interpretation of how little you felt you knew him at that moment.

It was already impossible for him not to know. That he didn't know how much you liked him, or how much you longed for him to let you love him without restraint. Situations that were only going to live in your head now, like a bad memory of a lousy moment that shook your world to its foundations.

“If you think something has changed, then the problem is with you. Because I don't feel that anything has changed. Not with Steve and not between us.”

You didn't answer him. You let a couple of tears roll down your face, witnessed by his impassive, apathetic expression, which didn't even flinch at the flood of feeling running down your face. He just stood there, watching, as you choked on your own breath.

“We're still friends, aren't we? I don't see why that has to change.”

With your hope shattered and your heart in your hand, you tried to say, “Maybe.... Maybe about that- about that, Bucky, I don't feel the same way-”

But the loud sound of a door creaking open stopped your feeble babbling. You didn't even feel the strength to try, as if his harshness had ruthlessly consumed all your resilience.

“Bucky,” you heard a female voice, and you didn't have to turn around to recognise it.

You watched Bucky's lips curl into a small smile, “Hey.”

You turned around to look at her, though you were fully aware you knew who she was, you felt the masochistic need to confirm it. But seeing her there, standing in front of her closed door, right next to the door to your flat, didn't do anything for you or confirm anything other than worsen the pain of the lump in your throat you were trying to conceal, because you'd already shown him too much and you couldn't give him any more if he was just going to toss it aside like a crumpled leaf that was no longer useful.

“Fine,” you said to Bucky, turning to the front once more. He scowled at you, but with a cautious, softened gesture, forgetting for a moment the defensive attitude he had adopted, “Then nothing has changed, and nothing's going to change.”

Bucky half-opened his lips, his face suddenly contracting in compunction, or so you seemed to have noticed. But no, he had said all that so sure of himself, so confident of his words, that it was impossible that he was now regretting it. And yet, if that were the case, you didn't want to hear it. Not now, not later, not ever, preferably. You'd heard enough.

“Good luck on your date, Bucky.”

And you continued on your way to the stairs, barely grazing his shoulder as you passed him. The lump in your throat was unbearable, and the burning in your eyes from the tears that wanted to come out to freely express your pain was insufferable. With every breath, your chest constricted painfully, and for a moment, as you descended the stairs, you felt that you would not be able to bear it; that you could not cope.

And that frightened you. To know the gravity of the power you had given Bucky over you, over your feelings.

But you couldn't do anything more than get over it. Whatever it took, but you had to let it go and put it behind you.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #winter solider #seb stan #sebastian stan #marvel #mcu #avengers

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

Text

cardigan

natasha romanoff x f!reader

word count: 8.9k (haha)

warnings: swearing, cheating!natasha, sad!reader, uhm this is angsty for me, asshole!natasha, sort of asshole!team, more angst, sort of happy ending sort of, secrets™️

this is inspired by taylor swift’s cardigan. folklore and evermore are really getting me through this i swear

obviously i do not own this song, picture, or any of the warped lyrics that i attempted to slide in as creatively possible :) this is also my first one shot and my first reader insert ever- i tried to not go into any physical details about miss y/n but i hope y’all like it!

No editor. All mistakes are 100% mine!

You couldn’t have been any more excited to see Natasha. She had been gone for what felt like forever on a mission with Steve, Bucky, and some agent that was on her first big mission, a girl that you recalled to be named Abigail. Regardless of what her name was, they were all heading home today after so long, nearly two months.

There was no telling how much you were ready for the return of your fiancée. The two of you had promised to get married nine months ago, and you were already deep into planning. You were going to your dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s (your literal childhood wish) in two days. You had the venue picked, the table accessories done, the seating chart already filled out and sitting pretty in laminated sheets in a binder. The day was going to be perfect, and it was what you and Natasha deserved after so long. Especially Natasha, after every single thing that she had been through just to save the world and to help those who weren’t able to help themselves.

Natasha was your angel.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you waited for the quinjet to land, the ring feeling light on your left finger as you rolled back and forth on your feet. You couldn’t hold back a toothy grin as you waited for them to fly back in, and to hug Natasha again. That was the most important part. To have her back in your arms so that you could do things like stay in together for the weekend and stay holed up in their room just doing innocent things, like counting each other’s heartbeats.

You stood with your hands clasped in front of your body as they landed, a dopey grin on your face and the same nervous glint in your eye that was there every time that you waited for your fiancée to come back home. You knew that Natasha would always find her way back to you, but there was no telling what condition she would be in.

The moment the doors opened, Abigail ran through them, and down the ramps nearly knocking you over. You reached your arms out to steady the other girl, who looked like she was about to burst into tears at any second. As much as you wanted to just hug Natasha and go home after you ate and sleep in bed with her, you couldn’t leave a girl in tears like that without checking on her. “Woah, are you okay, sweetie?”

The girl’s bottom lip jutted out, like she was about to cry just because of you asking the question. She didn’t say anything, but she was obviously falling apart from the inside, and it made you more than mildly concerned. You didn’t like to see anyone cry, let alone a girl who had just come back from her first big mission. “I’m fine.” Her voice cracked.

“Are you sure?” You were no medic or super soldier or even assassin-spy, but you were nothing if not rational and sympathetic. You were so in tune to the poor girl that you didn’t feel the palpable awkwardness of everyone else who walked off of the quinjet, almost all of them cringing. “Do you need to talk to someone?”

“I- I’m sorry,” Abigail said, and she was running away from you faster than you had ever seen anyone run before.

You frowned as you watched her run. “I hope she’s alright, poor thing. I can’t imagine how a first mission feels,” you murmured, turning around and seeing the slightly spooked eyes of the rest of the team. You smiled at them cautiously and walked over to Natasha, arms already raised as you went to embrace her tightly. You breathed in and put your face in her neck, nearly crying tears of joy as you smelled her shampoo, a rich scent that meant the safety and comfort of them both. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

You were so happy to hold your fiancée again that you almost didn’t notice how standoffish she was being, and her lack of enthusiasm. She had never been not enthusiastic to see you, especially after going so long without seeing each other. After too long of her not reacting to your warm embrace by kissing your hair or murmuring her usual missed you, princessa, you pulled away and looked at her, a questioning look on your face. “Are you okay, my love?”

Natasha stepped back, not looking you in the eyes and choosing to just smooth out the sleeves of her combat attire, eyes on the floor. That was very unlike her. Something must have gone terribly wrong. “I just want to get home.”

Your vibe visibly deteriorated. It was obvious that Natasha had just popped your bubble and left it as an empty shell, but you were still smiling anyway. Like you always did. “Okay, Nat. We can do that.” You reached out for Natasha’s hand and grabbed it after waving goodbye to the other team members, who all looked either extremely displeased or like they had been caught doing something very awkward.

You walked back to your part of the tower together in silence that wasn’t characteristic of the two of you. You were a known chatterbox, happy and always starting meaningful conversations, but also one of the best listeners to ever grace the earth. Natasha liked to listen, too, and she had the best words and the best voice to listen to. One of them was always talking. The silence between them was almost haunting.

Natasha went straight into the shower. She didn’t offer for you to go in with her, which was what the two of you always did after a mission. You got to see Natasha at her most vulnerable, and Natasha was finally allowed to let down the shroud of strength that only lasted for so long without being damaging. It was the thing that kept you close and often the action that got Natasha to open up about what happened and how she truly felt. Natasha skipping out on that time hurt you and made you expect the worst.

She turned the lights off the minute that she was out of the shower, not speaking to you or even offering any physical assurance, which was something that Natasha knew that you needed after she came home.

You just prayed that she would be ready to talk in the morning.

§§§

Natasha wasn’t there when you woke up. You frowned and patted the empty spot in the bed beside you even though you knew that she was probably at the gym or running around doing errands. You sighed and crawled out of bed, doing the daily routine that you usually did with Natasha, and leaving the room to go make some breakfast.

There were whispers that hissed like snakes when you came around the corner, and they came to a screeching halt when you bounced into the room. You grinned at everyone sitting or standing in the kitchen, ignoring their deer-in-headlights looks and searching for the woman you were set to get married to. You frowned a bit when there was no sign of her.

“Good morning!” You hummed out anyways, going towards the pantry once you saw that no one had made food yet. Because you were staying there and you had no other skills, you had been the one to take up personal chef for the entire team just to pull some weight, even though they insisted that you didn’t need to do a thing. As long as you “kept Nat happy”, they said.

It took a second for any of them to respond. “Good morning,” Steve said, his voice oddly clinical for the way he usual greeted you. He was the morning person of the bunch, and probably your closest friend other than Wanda.

You took the supplies out of the pantry with a thoughtful look on your face. “I’m not trying to pry,” you started softly, back still towards them as you started with the pancake mix. “But, was the mission bad?” No one spoke for a few heavy moments.

“We succeeded,” Bucky finally stated vaguely, his voice floating through the room.

You never the type to spill all of your personal business to people, but these people weren’t just anyone. These were your closest friends, the people who were going to be in the wedding, either in one bridal party or the other’s. “Nat’s not talking to me,” you sighed out, and turned around to see all of them stiff as boards. “Was it hard for her?”

No one said anything.

You pursed your lips and turned your back to them again, looking away from them to gathered your thoughts for a second. You took in a deep breath and told yourself not to pry, not to think about what Natasha would surely tell you when she was ready. You turned your head and gave them your trademark grin. “Who wants blueberries in their pancakes?”

§§§

You sat in your shared room after a full day of Natasha blatantly ignoring and avoiding you. You were patient, because that was what you had to be to date an Avenger, but Natasha had never straight up ignored you before. You learned very quickly that it called for a different type of patience than the one you were used to.

In the kitchen when she was forced to be present after you cooked a huge welcome home meal, she didn’t hug on you or kiss your cheek or even look you in the eyes. It wasn’t like her. You came to the tough conclusion that it wasn’t because of the mission, because she had never done that before, not even after the one where the children were caught in the crossfire. You were always the one that she talked to, no matter what.

The lamp light was the only light on in the room, because you knew that Natasha liked it better that way. Maybe less light would make her open up a bit, and the two of you would finally see eye to eye after the annoying stalemate that felt eternal.

You didn’t know how long Natasha would take come back and speak, but you knew that it wouldn’t be too long. Natasha liked to talk, and she had said multiple times that she liked to talk to you the most. It would be any time, right? That’s what you thought until the hours crept by, and you saw and heard no sign of anything. Not even the ding of an elevator or the shutting of a door, or her soft footsteps that she made on purpose because her natural steps were so quiet that she scared you when she appeared.

When Natasha finally came in, it was late in the night, morning time. Three in the morning, to be exact. You shook off your nerves and smiled at her, and the smile wasn’t returned as much as it should have been. “Hi,” you said, almost a little star struck by finally seeing her. It brought you back to the time you didn’t truly know her.

You had always admired Natasha. Not even because of her being Black Widow, but because she was Natasha Romanoff, an enemy spy and assassin turned good. And it brought you pure joy knowing that you would soon be taking on her last name, which you secretly thought of as your greatest achievement. Natasha was the one you wanted with for life, and you were steps closer.

You waited to hear Natasha’s voice. You waited in anticipation for her to run to you and start to spill immediately. You were waiting to wipe her tears and assure her that it wasn’t her fault, and that she couldn’t have done anything differently. “Hi.”

You frowned. Confusion flooded your senses at the short greeting. “Huh?”

“Why are you up?” Her tone sounded almost accusatory, like she had caught you doing something that you weren’t supposed to do, like you were intruding on her time. The frown on your face turned into a slight scowl, and then you reminded yourself that patience was key with Natasha.

“I’m allowed to wait up for my future wife,” you teased, but the look in your eye was serious. You could see how the red head lingered at the doorway, like she was trying to decide whether to bolt or leave with grace. You weren’t going to give her enough time to make the decision. Come sit, please.” When Natasha didn’t move an inch, your facial expression fell. “Please.”

Natasha walked over to the bed slowly, like she was being forced to move or die. You shook your head side to side, eyeing her up and down like the answer to the problem that you didn’t know yet was written on her body somewhere. “I’m here,” she said quietly, like a distant whisper.

“Are you really?” You asked quietly, and it felt like your voice echoed like the beating of drums in the nearly silent room. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing happened.”

You knew that you shouldn’t pry. You both hated prying, but you were also both naturally transparent. You two had never truly had to pry with each other before. The truth was, you didn’t know how far you could push until she snapped on you. “Are you sure?”

Like someone had flipped a switch, a small smile lit up on Natasha’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to sate you for a while. “Yes, princessa. I’m very sure. I’m tired.”

That was all it took. All it took was Natasha muttering the sweet nickname to you, and it was all as good as talked about. You could rest for a moment.

“Then we can go to bed, my love.” You reached out to touch Natasha’s face, loving the familiar feeling of her soft skin. “You know, you don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me anything, Nattie.”

You stared at Natasha for a while, just admiring her face and everything about it, almost missing the way that she didn’t do it back. This was something that you two did nearly every night before going to sleep- you just watched each other. A slow, dopey grin slid onto your face, and then you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, then her cheek, and then to her pink lips in a soft yet passionate kiss, as soft as rose petals.

You pulled away and smiled at her with your eyes closed, nuzzling your face into her neck. You took in a deep breath, inhaling her sweet smell and feeling the comfort was over you like waves in the ocean. You could have told her a thousand things in that instant, but they all revolves around one master idea. “I love you so much, Natasha.”

You brushed a red strand of hair out of her face before reaching up to kiss her forehead, and then you were back in her neck, trying to sleep.

There was no response, just Natasha’s arm’s getting tighter around you and squeezing three times, each harder and shakier than the last. That was all it took for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, you recalled having a dream that featured a woman crying, the sound distant yet close.

§§§

You had a feeling that Natasha was going to do the exact same thing that she did the first time, and you assumed correctly. You took it in stride this time and went to the flower store to pick out your bouquet that you would walk with, and probably throw. It was something that you wanted to do on your own, anyway. Like most brides, you didn’t want your future spouse seeing anything that you were going to be wearing until the big day. Not even the veil or the flowers that you would be carrying.

“That’s gorgeous!” You grinned at the employee, who mirrored your excited look. “That’s perfect, she’ll love it.”

While you gushed about your flowers, you also wondered if Natasha was doing a bouquet, too. You hoped that she had someone that would help her out with it, maybe Sharon or Wanda. Natasha wasn’t really big on the planning of the wedding. In fact, she wanted it much smaller than it was going to be, but you had convinced her to do it your way. Maybe it was your natural charm that helped you swindle the spy, or perhaps it was because she just secretely wanted the same thing.

As you walked away from the flower shop after placing the order, you walked by the busy donut shop that Natasha loved going to. Usually, it would be Natasha that stopped by and brought you some donuts, but maybe the other way around would be enough to make the red headed woman smile a bit. You stopped for a second and then didn’t hesitate to go in, pulling out a couple dollars for a tip, too.

Natasha loved chocolate donuts, even though she tried to resist eating them. You liked glazed better, but it was alright. You’d buy chocolate for her. You had hope that they would get Natasha to open up just a little, as dumb as it sounded. But a bribe never went wrong, and what was the harm in donuts?

“Thank you, Sarah,” you said after you got the box of donuts, walking out of the sweet smelling shop and down the street towards the tower.

When you got back, it was loud. It usually was pretty loud, with everyone and everything going on, but this was a different type of loud. It wasn’t the tinkering of metal in the lab or the sounds of sparring or elevators going up and down. It was shouting. A full on shouting match that was loud enough to be heard from floors down was happening. You nearly dropped the box of donuts as you hurriedly pressed the level that you and Natasha stayed on, hoping to find her in the room and out of the fight. The ride up the elevator was almost too full of anticipation as you waited in what would have been silence, if not for the yelling.

“No, because you can’t control yourself!” The voice was now obviously Steve’s. You were shocked. You had never heard Steve so riled up, ever. It was out of character for him to be so angry at someone, even if that particular someone fucked up royally. “You did something stupid, and now you’ll own up to it. Simple.”

“I fucking can’t!” You frowned. That was without a doubt Natasha. “I can’t, not right now. So fuck off.”

“I can’t fuck off after you’ve done something like this, Romanoff.” You winced as the elevator doors opened. Steve didn’t use Natasha’s last name anymore, not since they got close. And he certainly didn’t use the f-bomb much. “This is… it’s beyond-”

“What happened?” You shoved the donuts into Sam’s waiting hands, which were open for business when he saw you coming out of the elevator. “What’s all the yelling for?”

Everyone was staring at you like you were a ghost that wasn’t supposed to show up even though they had called on you. No one had an immediate answer, and so you put your hands on your hips. “Is everything okay?”

Tony looked at Natasha with sharp eyes and took a step back, raising his palms. “On you.”

It took a second for Natasha to say anything to you, and it was clear that everyone was waiting for something. It was even more clear that everyone was equally pissed at Natasha, for whatever reason.

“Everything is just fine, princessa.” Natasha’s voice carried over to your ears, smooth as honey, even though she wasn’t looking up into your eyes. “Don’t worry.”

You didn’t really believe it. How could you? She wasn’t talking to you, she wasn’t lying with you, she wasn’t counting your heartbeats like you did with her. There was something wrong, something had to be for Steve to be yelling like that, in front of everyone else. You eyed Natasha for a few extra seconds and then took the donuts back, muttering a thanks to Sam.

“Alright.” As if seeing the box made you remember why you went out in the first place, your trademark grin was back. “I ordered my bouquet today,” you hummed, walking up to Natasha and planting a kiss on her lips. When you pulled away, you murmured the customary I love you under your breath, like you two did every time you kissed. The one who initiated the kiss would say it first, and it would be answered by a quick “always”.

“A-always. Oh?” You realized that Natasha’s voice fluttered when she said it.

“Yeah, you can’t see which one, though.” You winked at her playfully, trying to ignore the way that the others looked mildly uncomfortable. You were used to uncomfortable looks, but never from them. You knew that it wasn’t homophobia, because they were never that way. So their behavior ran deeper than that. What the fuck happened? “My dress appointment is tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

You were too busy getting a donut from the box to see the looks that everyone else shared when you spoke again. “How’s the girl who went on the mission with you? She seemed a little upset when you guys came back.”

Natasha’s hair nearly bounced with how high she shot up, her body going straight at the mention of the other girl. She looked away from your eyes for a split second, and then back. “Fine.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes on Natasha. “Is she good with fashion? Maybe seeing dresses and all that would make her feel a little better.”

Natasha looked horrified as she realized what you were insinuating. “No. No, she’s fine. She doesn’t need to be invited anywhere.”

“It’s just to sit and watch me try on dresses. Wanda, Sharon, and Pepper are going, right?” You looked towards Tony to confirm, and he nodded his head firmly before looking at Natasha again, a serious look in his eyes. “Maybe Abigail can go.”

“No. She’s not going.” There was something in Natasha’s tone that sounded so final, so adamant, that you knew in your heart to just drop it. It saved you both in that moment.

That didn’t mean that you weren’t allowed to make a face of disapproval. “That’s not nice at all, Nattie. I hope you weren’t the reason she was crying. You’re known to be a little mean.”

Natasha looked away from you, taking a step back. Her eyebrow was twitching, a sign of stress that you picked up on like it was your own. “I have to go.”

“Wait, I got these for-” Natasha left in a hurry, so fast that you barely even registered that she had left. She left awkwardness in her absence. “Well, she can eat them later. Feel free to have some, guys, just save one or two for her, okay?”

They were all quiet for a few seconds, like they were in the midst of a special moment where they were all feeling the same thing, everyone in the room except for you. Finally, Wanda spoke. “Okay, Y/N.” You smiled at them, gave them all sweet hugs, and left.

§§§

You were bursting at the seams at being seen for a dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s. Wanda was with you, and so were Sharon and Pepper. They were excited for you, but no one matched your energy.

You were a girl finally getting what she had been dreaming of her whole life; to get married in a beautiful dress to the person she loved. You would soon be walking down the isle to see Natasha waiting for you, flanked by everyone else that was ever important to them.

You must have been the luckiest woman in the world.

“You’re really excited,” Sharon mused, but it was more of an observation than a statement.

“I’m so excited,” you confirmed. “I’m marrying the love of my life in what’s going to be my dream dress, I know it.” You grinned as the four of you watched people bustling around the shop. There was a bride near tears, just like on the TV episodes, and you watched fondly. Seeing people get what they wanted made you happy.

The search for the perfect dress went nothing less than perfectly. Within the first two sweeps, you managed to get into a dress that everyone thought was perfect for you, and you loved it, too. It even brought the three out of the haze that they were in, out of focus and minds so far gone that your excited squeals were all that broke them out of their thoughts.

“It’s gorgeous, Y/N.” Pepper said, her voice soft and cautious as they walked up to pay. It was silent as you waited for an attendant to come to the counter and check you out.

“I- I think there’s something you should know.” The other girls’ head whipped Pepper’s way, and she gave them a look that told them that she wasn’t going to back down from whatever she had to say.

You had what felt like a permanent grin on your face as you thought about the dress. It was a dramatic ball gown, blush pink and flowy. You were almost as in love with it as you were with Natasha, and the matching heels that you got and the gorgeous veil that matched topped it all off. You and your soon to be bridal party walked out into the crisp air, and you turned your head towards Pepper. “Sure, what is it?”

There were a few beats of silence. “Let’s go sit in the car,” Pepper insisted, and so they walked back to the car that Happy was driving for them, where he was sitting with the partition rolled down. He gave them a half assed greeting before they all piled in. “Can I start off with saying that… I’m sorry if you feel like any of us betrayed you.”

You trusted them all with your life, but that didn’t stop your heart from starting to race at the words Pepper said. Whatever this announcement was, it wasn’t good at all. “What?” When no one said anything, you laughed a little. “What, is the dress actually ugly and you didn’t say anything while we were in there? Do I need to go back?”

“No, the dress is beautiful.” The other girls nodded, and then you were sure of yourself and your taste again. “It’s just… Abigail.”

You frowned a bit, immediately thinking of the tragic scene where the girl rushed out of the quintet, breaking down by the second. “Oh, poor thing. Is she not doing as well as they say she is? I know a first big mission can be tough.”

There was a thick silence before Sharon blurted it out. “I am so, so sorry.” You leaned forward, heart skipping a few beats while Sharon took in a deep breath. You knew that some kind of blow was coming just by her apology, and you were bracing for it. “Natasha and Abigail had an affair on the mission.”

In the movies, it was like an instant shattering of the heart when news was broken like that. Immediate tears, automatic screaming and cursing and wanting to call up the other person to threaten them. There was lashing out, the breaking of glass, all the cinematic things that made actors on screen look better and less awkward when they broke down. You always thought that they were overreacting.

Now you knew that they weren’t. You felt that way on the inside. Your mind was raging like a hurricane and a tornado all at once, one disaster coming from the east and the other from the west. Your anger was the tornado, whipping around and threatening to destroy everything in your path and lash out at every single damn person in that car. But just like a tornado, you wore out and disbanded, all in your head. All that was left was the hurricane. The sadness. The disappointment. The heartbreak.

You had never even entertained the thought of how you would be after getting betrayed by her, but if you had, you probably would have imagined that the tornado would have acted first. But it didn’t. Unlike in the movies, all you did was tilt your head to the side and ask for the words to be repeated, even though you didn’t even listen for a second. You couldn’t believe it. Not Natasha. Not your Natasha. Not your angel.

“Natasha and Abigail slept with each other on multiple occasions on the mission, by word of Steve,” Sharon pointed out, her voice similar to the way a doctor sounded while delivering bad news, only a little shakier. “Abigail ran out crying because she fell in love with Natasha and knew that it would never really happen, not because she ruined the mission.”

Not only had Natasha slept with another person, but she had somehow convinced the girl that they were going to be together. Natasha didn’t have a ring, and the girl was new. There was no way she would have known that you two were together unless someone explicitly told her, and there were better things to do on a mission. It wasn’t her fault. Even if she had known, it wasn’t Abigail’s fault. Natasha Romanoff knew better. She knew a thousand times better.

“I don’t think either of them meant for it to happen,” Pepper said, immediately trying to calm you down, even though you hadn’t even spoken an angry word yet, and you looked like you weren’t even close to shouting.

The distinct sound of the partition rolling up was what brought you back to the present.

“But it did happen,” you said slowly, not even realizing that your teeth were gritted. “It happened.”

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to, you wanted to believe it was a lie and calmly confront Natasha, but Steve was the one who had said it, and Steve didn’t lie. Why hadn’t he told you before?

Now that you knew what went on during the mission, you could see that everyone was acting weird. Everyone knew, there was no question about it. Which meant that everyone knew, and no one told you. They didn’t even hint toward anything, and they knew that you were supposed to be marrying the woman who went behind your back and did the unforgivable multiple times.

“We- we’re supposed to be getting married.” The pitiful sentence was all that you could string together in a thought as you looked out of the window at the traffic. You wished that the cars would just go, fly around so that you could cry by yourself. “I don’t even know what to say.” There were a million things happening in your mind at once, and trying not to cry in front of everyone was the biggest effort.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon’s voice said, and she really did sound apologetic. But it wasn’t enough in the moment. You wanted to hear Natasha say it, if all was true. But you knew it was. “We’re all sorry. We were waiting for Romanoff to own up to what she did.” Sharon said, obviously trying not to feel the wrath of you that was surely bubbling beneath the surface.

You could have been angry towards them. You knew that you felt betrayed, by everyone that knew and chose not to speak, that was a no-brainer. You could have been a lot of things at the moment, but there were bigger fish to fry. You clenched your fists and looked at the window, blinking rapidly as you grappled for composure. “Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think you-”

“I get it. It’s alright. I just prefer not to speak right now, ‘s all.” And conversation ended. But that was when the turmoil in your head and heart started to crank up the energy.

Your first instinct was to bust in there and look for the Black Widow herself, to yell until you lost your voice. Your first instinct was to cause a scene and embarrass her as much as Natasha did to you. You couldn’t believe she had gotten everyone to lie for her. You couldn’t believe that she had an obvious affair with a new agent. You couldn’t believe that you walked around thinking that nothing was wrong while everyone else pitied you behind your back.

Unfortunately, you were quite used to not being enough. Not enough to make it into ivy leagues, not enough to make the track team, not having enough to afford to buy all of your clothes without cringing and thinking about putting some items back. But you were never going to be used to not being enough for Natasha Romanov.

The drive back was the most awkward drive that the four of them had ever been on, without question. You had tears streaming down your face but you were still as silent as the night, just like everyone else. You hardly ever cried. You were always the ray of sunshine and rationality in the tower, and now everything positive had been blown out by the darkness that Natasha created.

When everyone got out of the car, it was sluggishly. Everyone knew what was bound to happen, but it was questionable whether or not the end of the blow out was going to result in settlement or people storming and and leaving. You already knew how it would end.

The second that the elevator landed on you and Natasha’s floor, you shakily thanked the girls for their honesty and walked right out, knowing that it was probably the last time that you would ever be going up in Stark Tower. In your angry fantasy about confronting your fiancée, you imagined storming in and shouting her name, getting her attention and then breaking her down into pieces like the words did to you in the car.

But once you were in your room, you found that the fantasies were just that, and you couldn’t say a word or do a thing but find your suitcase and pack, all the fire leaving your body the second that you saw your room.

You were halfway through gathering everything that was yours in the room that you and Natasha shared, tears streaming down steadily, when you registered that it was real. Natasha had really done the unimaginable, and there was no turning back. A small sob escaped your throat when you saw the sweater you had gotten Natasha hanging up in the closet, the same one that she wore when she got down on one knee for you. Did that mean nothing, too? Was the meaning and emotion of that and everything that led up to it blown to smithereens by something as trivial as two months?

The door flung open. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t talk to me.” You blurted, turning your head to not look at Natasha, trying to avoid her blue gaze. If you looked, you had no doubts that you would turn to stone, and that you would never find the strength to leave the woman who you loved the most and hurt you the most, all within three minutes.

Natasha looked bewildered by the suitcase on the bed. “Are you- are you leaving?”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do?” The temper that was kept just below simmering in the car was finally starting to boil over. “I can’t believe you, Natasha!”

“I-” She sputtered, and you gave her a pointed look in response. “Who told you?”

The question brought fire into your veins. She knew that you knew, because she knew that it was the one secret that had the power to make you so emotional. You two kept no secrets, and for this to be the first? That was painful.

You knew that Natasha would sense your lie about who told you and who didn’t, but you told it anyway. There was no use in causing a riff between the team because they wanted to help you. “I figured it out myself. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Natasha held her hands out in front of her body, and the gesture was so similar to the way that she used to hold her hands out in a silent ask for you to hold them. You hated the way that your heart lurched, and the way that you craved the feeling of her hands even more. “It was an accident.”

An accident? A two month escapade with another woman was an accident?

“After that long ass ride home on the quinjet, you could have at least come up with a better lie.”

“Princessa-”

“I- fuck you.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the explicative, tears falling into the suitcase pitifully. It made your raging temper even worse. “Fuck you.”

“My love-”

“I don’t understand why!” You couldn’t contain the waves of emotion you felt anymore as you slammed the top of the unfinished suitcase closed. “I give you everything I have every single day. Every day. I love you with all of my heart and I do everything I can to make you happy and you give me this? I tried so hard to make sure that we were both happy together, and we were. So, why?”

The look on Natasha’s face wasn’t unfamiliar to you. You knew it well, but it had never been used on you before. It was the look of a spy who didn’t want to say a damn word, silent resistance that you knew would be unbroken. That’s when you knew that you may never know the real reason. And it broke you. “There isn’t a reason.”

You crumbled faster than you ever had before “Natasha, we were- how could you do this to me?” You collapsed into sobs, falling onto the bed and putting your face into your hands. You didn’t know how long you cried for until you felt a hand on your shoulder, very hesitant to even attempt at being comforting. You didn’t have the energy to tell her to fuck off.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha cooed, and for a second, it felt like something was right again. Natasha being gentle was a regular occurrence, a side to the famous ex assassin that only you saw. It was your biggest safety blanket in life. But when she opened her mouth again, you were brought back to why you two were even doing this in the first place. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

You shook your head out of anger. The fact that the lie was shitty made it worse, made it hurt more. She didn’t even want to come up with a lie that would make you stay?

“Somehow you convinced that poor girl that you were going to be with her. How did you manage to do that on accident? How did you sleep with her multiple times on accident? You lead her on emotionally.”

“No.”

“Yes.” You pushed her hand off of your shoulder. “You told her some pretty little words and she fell for them as most do, right? Like I did, I guess. Just tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t-”

You remembered the way the girl was so distraught. You remembered the amount of tears that she had. You remembered the way that she avoided looking in your eyes, the way that she looked completely heart broken. Just like how you looked. You scoffed. “She told you she loved you, didn’t she?”

Natasha’s light blue eyes were boring into yours as she was silent. For the first time in a while, there was no telling of what Natasha was thinking in your mind. You were disconnected. “Yes.”

The words hurt to get out, but you had to know the answer to them. At any cost. Even at the cost of your own heart and sanity. “And you told her the same.”

There was a thick silence that spanned across multiple frantic heartbeats. “Yes.”

The next words were automatic. “I’m done.” You opened the suitcase again. The tears were coming harder than ever, warping your voice so much that your not Natasha hardly recognized it. “Done.”

“You can’t just-”

“Yes, I can!” You whipped around, eyes nailing Natasha right in her place. “Unless you can give me a good reason for what the hell you did, I’m done.”

Excruciating silence. It struck like lightning on the last tree in a struck down forest.

You turned on your heel, but then, words bubbled up in your throat, and you couldn’t shove them down. “When you miss me after you’re done, don’t come back to me.” Your voice cracked in the middle, but you kept pushing. “When you stop and think about what we could have been, do not come and find me. Because you’ll figure it out one day, and it’ll get through that thick skull.”

Natasha’s eyes were slightly watery as she looked on, taking a few steps forward with on outstretched arm, looking to latch on to you. “Love, please.”

You scoffed and ran out of the door, with nothing but a suitcase and a bag in your hands. You cried all the way to the elevator, ignoring the fact that Wanda and Vision’s room was right there across the hall, and how they without a doubt heard everything. Hell, everyone had heard everything. The argument weren’t exactly quiet.

You cried even harder when the doors of the elevator closed. Your hands shook as you brought them up to your face, remembering far too late that Tony Stark sometimes watched the tapes, especially elevator ones. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care. You turned into yourself and sobbed as your body and head shook, trying to rid herself of everything that happened. You cried more when you realized that you hadn’t meant a word of what you said to Natasha.

Deep down, through all of the emotions, you wanted her to seek you out when she learned her lesson. You didn’t know why, and you knew that you didn’t want it any time soon, but you knew that you wanted it.

It was supposed to be a magical day. The day you got the dress was the day it all became real, the day that solidified the fact that you would be getting married to the woman that you loved. You were heart broken. The familiar sound of the elevator stopping and the doors opening barely snapped you out of your well deserved pity party.

You only took one look at the new arrival, and that was when it was decided that the universe, was indeed, very unkind.

Abigail stood there like a deer in head lights, swallowing and looking with wide eyes, certainly unsure about whether or not she should just leave or apologize and hop in and pretend like she didn’t know what was going on. She looked like she expected confrontation.

Your wobbly smile shocked her. “You don’t have to be scared. Come in.” Your voice was just as shaky as the smile you offered, stepping to the side a bit and giving the other woman enough room.

You felt bad. Abigail was young, even younger than you. There was no way that she knew. No one really resisted the charms of Natasha Romanoff, anyway, and you knew it. Especially not a wide eyed newbie who was desperate to please on her first mission with the big guys, some of the original Avengers. There was no doubt that she felt terrible based on the way that she didn’t look you in the eye, and how she avoided everyone. There was only one person in the wrong, and it wasn’t this poor girl.

The doors dinged as they reached the bottom, and right before they opened, you smiled at her. “It’s okay,” your voice was a strong whisper. “It’s not your fault.” You gave her one look as you wheeled your suitcase out of the elevator, taking long strides to reach the huge front door of the tower, praying for no more interruptions.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t want to stop at all. You knew who’s commanding voice it was, and stopping to talk didn’t seem like an option. You preferred not to talk to anyone on the team, especially not one of the people who went on the mission. You wiped your cheeks and turned around anyway. “Yes?”

Steve stood before you, a sincere expression on his face as he looked you up and down, your obvious and inevitable departure making him wince. “I’m sorry.”

There was nothing that you could really say to him. He wasn’t the point of your anger and he was a friend, even if he had kept something from you. “You’re not the one who did it.”

“I could have told you.”

“No, she should have, a long time before someone else did. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The story of infidelity that happened was Natasha’s story to tell. While you still felt a little more than bitter about being an idiot in the dark about the whole thing, you would have preferred to hear it from her, one hundred percent. “I’m just pissed I found out after buying the perfect dress and veil and all of it. I was so ready.” You felt like a fool.

“I don’t know why she-”

“I don’t know why, either.” You admitted, shaking your head slowly. “But one day, maybe I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re leaving.” Steve saw it as a closed chapter now that you were storming out. Anyone would, but you knew better. You knew how Natasha worked, you knew how you worked, but most importantly, you knew how you two worked together. “You and Natasha- you and Nat are special. I’ve never seen anything like what you two have in my life, no one has. That’s why we’re all so mad. She ruined the one relationship that everyone obviously knows is true love, for no reason.”

“I know.”

He looked guilty for even saying the words. “You’re not going to try and work it out?”

“Don’t you think that I know what we have is special?” You asked him, new tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m leaving this to her because I trust her with it. I don’t forgive her, and maybe I never will, but this is for her to decide.”

“What makes you think that she’ll decide right? Or what she’ll even decide at all?”

“She’ll come back.” You stated with certainty, and these were the first words that hadn’t had a crack or wobble in them since you started talking to the red head. “She’ll miss me and she’ll be over the thrill of whatever happened on the mission, and she’ll find me, wherever I decide to go. She’ll come back to me, just like I would come back to her. It could take weeks or years, but she will. That’s how we work.”

Steve was momentarily stunned, but after a few short moments, you knew that you had convinced him. “And you’re willing to wait for her? However long it takes?”

You lifted your lips at him, even more tears building up in your eyes as your answer flew up to your lips without even thinking. “She’ll come and find out.”

You walked away with heavy steps, already feeling her lingering on your skin, and the haunting memories of the two of you as happy as could be swirling around in your head.

You were well aware that removing Natasha from your life would hurt. But you never could have anticipated how much it would hurt.

Natasha was the safety net you never knew you needed. She was the one person on earth who made you feel truly wanted, needed even. She knew everything that you required to feel loved and you knew her just the same, and you both did those things. And that’s what made you two different.

You had been cheated on before. That was how Natasha had met you, actually. Your last boyfriend had cheated on you like the dirty dog he was with nearly every woman he was cute enough to be with for a night, and Natasha met you while you were getting hammered at a bar because you found out. Natasha met you at your lowest point and raised you up with all her might, and still had energy to love you. You felt useless and discarded, thrown under the bed and tossed to the side of the road, but she found you and made you something new. She made you her favorite.

Natasha was everywhere.

She was in the way that you made your coffee, because you hated it before you met her, and she introduced you to a kind that you liked. You got as addicted to it as you were to her.

She was in the way that you walked around the park at night instead of in the morning like you did before you met her, because she liked looking at the stars together.

She was in the way that you searched for her next to you in your sleep and when you first woke up. She was in the ring you still had. She was in the way you wrote your letter ‘n’ now, because you wrote her notes for years and always made the ‘n’ fancy just for her. It stuck. She was somehow related to every show and every movie and every brand of ice cream, and from the second week of suffering without her, you knew that she would linger on you like a faded tattoo.

During the third week, you swore that you could smell her perfume, though it made no sense. You had done laundry many times, and all of a sudden the smell popped up, like she was dropping in to spray the perfume and then leaving as soon as she came. The rich smell was something that you would never forget, and it hung around like thick smoke in your mind. You wanted it to leave.

You cursed her name all throughout the fourth week of being alone in your small apartment in Brooklyn. Everything was her fault. The washer broke, Natasha somehow did it. If you woke up with makeup still on your face from the past night, Natasha was at fault.

You went shopping during the sixth week, and you swore you saw flashes of her red hair in the grocery line, pitifully walking faster with your cart to both flee and go towards it. A part of you knew that she would never shop this far out, but you couldn’t help it. You missed her. You missed her a lot.

But that didn’t change that it stung so, so badly.

It was disgustingly close to what the wedding date would have been when you were lying in bed with a stray cat that you had managed to nurse back to health and call your own about two weeks prior. In a way, it was freeing. Natasha hated animals. They were a responsibility in her mind, nothing more. You loved the cat quickly, and named him Henry.

There were three sharp knocks on the door that you would have taken for strokes of thunder if they weren’t so close. You frowned and stood up, walking to the window to peak outside and see that there was a thunderstorm rolling through, the wind higher than usual and the rain coming down sideways.

You walked to the door with the small cat trailing behind you like a loyal companion. You cracked a smile when he meowed, and you looked through the peep hole, the bright porch light shocking your eye for a second, and then you saw.

Natasha Romanoff was standing there, soaking wet with her arms hanging at her sides, trembling from the cold.

You took two steps back that startled Henry, causing him to meow louder this time. You breathed in, trying to be quiet, but you knew that she knew you were there. She was so trained that you knew she heard you approaching, and when you took your steps away from the door. You both knew each other were there.

You had indirectly told her to seek you out when she was ready, and here she was.

Were you ready?

Like you were a child trying to eavesdrop, you held your breath as you leaned into the door, putting your ear on it as you struggled to hear something, anything, from her. She wasn’t talking. You looked up into the peephole again, and she was looking at her feet, waiting for something to happen. She knew that you were deciding.

You had spent time looking for her in places you knew she would never be, running to and from things that looked like or reminded you of her, and now the real thing stood in your porch light in the rain. She came back to you.

She came back, but that didn’t erase everything that happened. Not at all. Her two months of fun and new experiences acted as the eraser, painting over everything that they had ever done in black paint. The joy of dancing with her under street lights and kissing in Tony’s limos and her hand under your sweatshirt didn’t amount to the pain it felt when she ripped herself from you.

But why did it hurt so much if they weren’t the same amount of emotion, if not more? If you looked at it with a rational mind, was the joy not worth more than the pain?

The pain weighed like bricks. There was one big brick that weighed half a ton on one scale, nearly tipping the other side.

But the joy? It weighed like clouds, because that’s what joy was. It was the feeling of being above the clouds. And you found that every moment of joy that you had Natasha, even though it was the weight of clouds, still outweighed the fat brick.

But were all of the cloud moments enough to possibly take another brick?

Your hand moved before you knew it, and you were undoing the chain and unlocking the door, yanking it open roughly and staring her down.

She was shocked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at you without any barriers, automatic tears welling up. Had she come all that way to not even know whether or not you would answer? Hell, you had done all of that while in limbo with yourself.

But now, without even knowing how Natasha truly felt, without even hearing one word from her mouth, you knew something changed.

“I knew you’d come back.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #fem reader #lgbtq #natasha x reader #natasha x you #marvel imagines #my fics

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allmyspideys · 3 years

Note

If you’re still taking requests, what about a angsty Steve Rogers x reader, where after thanos’ snap he rushes back to shared home and doesn’t find you and freaks out thinking you were apart of the snap since you were supposed to be home from work but you actually left to go to the store or something?? I’m not sure if this will stir up any inspiration to write, I hope it does, but if it doesn’t, no pressure at all!! :)

omg okay so I know it’s been like 6 months since you sent this, but I’ve had like half written since then and I just got some motivation back to finish it (and start more :) ) I hope you enjoy it <3 <3

*Snap*

Out radiated a feeling of dread, ruin, and hopelessness. That feeling hit Steve like a ton of bricks. It struck him in the heart and numbed his limbs.

At first it was confusion, but as Steve looked over to see his best friend turn to dust and drift away with the remnants of the radiation, the hopelessness set in. He was Captain America, specifically genetically engineered to be able to protect people, to protect the people he loved.

The people he loved... You...

The dread hit Steve as hard just as the hopelessness, as the realization hit him that you might have turned to dust just like Bucky. He'd be completely alone.

Rage coursed through Steve's veins, but it very quickly turned to ice as he realized that there was no getting you back.

Steve would never hear your laugh again or watch the way your eyebrows scrunched together when he came in the door after a long mission. He'd never feel the way your fingers would intertwine with his. He’d never get to kiss you again; he’d never get to hug you or hold you or hear your wild stories. He’d never get to breath you in deep and feel the way you sigh into his side; you were his comfort, just as he was yours.

It shocked Steve and honestly, he couldn’t control himself until Natasha stepped him to bring him back. He was full of rage and heartbreak and despair, everything bad that he had no need to feel this deeply since meeting you. Dread continued to take over Steve’s mind as he tried to organize the remaining Avengers. It wasn’t just him that hurt; he could see that now. Everyone else was struggling just as much as he was. You always said, “put on a brave face and do what you need to do, even if you’re crying on the inside”.

He couldn’t focus on you, not now. Not when he didn’t know if you were okay. So he began to pick up the pieces, calling team members, figuring out who was left. But you were a part of him, so really, he couldn’t help if his subconscious drifted to you as he delegated duties and called a plane to take his suffering team home. He saw the numbness on Tony’s face and looked around for the joking face of Peter. Of course he didn’t find it.

As he thanked Natasha for doing everything she was doing, he thought about you. If you could see him now, oh boy. Though his face remained hard, the sadness shone through his normally bright eyes… You’d reach your warm hands up to cup his face as your eyes bore into his. He imagined your soothing fingers run across the creases in his forehead and down his eyebrows. “Old man eyebrows”, you’d joke. Steve could always count on your teasing to make him feel better, but he could never lie to you. He didn’t need to.

He could say, “It’s nothing,” but you always knew better. Somehow you just understood; you always understood. You may not have actually known, but you were there and that’s all he needed. Even now, that’s all he could imagine; the thought of you sitting at the window and glancing up as you heard him open the door brought a slight smile to his face, but it quickly fell. You were all he wanted, but you were gone. He was sure of it.

The droning sound of the plane was the only thing he could hear. It’s like there was something missing. He felt it through the waves that coursed through his body; the same waves that robbed him of his best friend, of his team, of his love. It was joy. It was love. It was hope. Entirely gone. Absent.

It was like Steve was preparing himself for the worst; for the simple possibility that you wouldn’t be there when he got home. He always promised to come back to you, but you never promised him that you’d stay. You are my home, Steve choked back a sob. He couldn’t stop the negative thoughts racing through his head anymore as his breathing got faster and heavier. He’d never cried in front of his team, but the tears pricking the corners of his eyes told him that he was about to. It was Natasha that brought him back that time. It should have been her hands on his thighs as she kneeled down beside him. It should have been the caring eyes that looked over his face for any injuries, but instead it was her hope that brought him back.

“She might be okay,” it was a gentle reminder that Steve didn’t truly know what had happened to you. It was that single light of hope within his darkness that carried his body as he got off the plane. His only thought was you. It was you curled up the couch as your soft snores warmed his heart. It was your hands intertwined with his while he spun you around to the music he knew. He didn’t really know when or how he got back to your apartment, but as the thought of your hands loving his body cleared and he saw your building in front of him, Steve broke out into a full sprint up to your floor.

You were used to the times when Steve came back from a mission. It was the in-between of Captain America and Steve Rogers, where he wasn’t quite either. He’d walk in the doors and immediately smile brightly at you. Sometimes you’d go to him, but usually, he’d come to you, scoop you in his arms and just stay there. It was like you were his tether back to himself. It was a moment you loved, so when you heard the keys jingling, you always got excited.

But this time, there were no keys jingling, there was no warning, the door just busted open, scaring the shit out of you. That scare paled in comparison to the fear you felt looking at the expression of emptiness on Steve’s face. He stayed like a statue in the doorway for a moment before you called to him.

“Steve?,” you asked tentatively.

Relief washed over his face and the tears finally broke free. His arms wrapped around you and you felt the shakes of his body through your entire chest. They were tears of relief, lingering despair, and the realization that Bucky and half his team were still gone.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he held you tighter, “I thought you were gone like the rest of them.”

You sat in Steve’s lap on the floor for a while, but he never let up on his hold. Your hands rubbed soothing circles on his back as he explained what happened. Part of Steve felt selfish to be happy that you were okay while so many were not, but as you moved your fingers into his hair and massaged away the headaches, Steve realized that you were his strength. He could do everything that he needed to do and more, as long as he had you right beside him. It was a promise to everyone else that tomorrow he’d start finding a solution, but for now, all he wanted was his moment of selfishness and hope.

Your hands moved down to cup his face and brought your lips to his forehead, smoothing out the tension with each feather light kiss. You placed a kiss on each eye, each cheek, the tip of his nose, and finally his lips, just to assure him that you were really there. Steve opened his eyes to see yours full of love and the little light of hope grew. You trailed your fingers back across his forehead and over his eyebrows. It was the glint in your eyes that brought a smile back to Steve’s face.

“I could never leave these old man eyebrows,” Steve chuckled and the little light grew even brighter, “they could try, but I’m not going anywhere”.

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nev3rfound · 3 years

Text

guiding you home : b.b

after many years, bucky found the perfect gift for your birthday even if you were no longer around to see it. (1.5k)

okay so it’s angsty - i found this on my other blog and initially intended to write fluff tonight, but ended up with this oops (warnings: character death, funeral, general sad angst)

masterlist / permanent taglist

- i also have an etsy shop, i just released wandavision themed tshirts if you’d like to check those out! -

“Go on, open it,” Bucky can’t stop the smile spreading across his face as you sit upright in bed, taking the small bag from him as you eagerly remove the tissue paper.

“You’ve outdone yourself once again, Buck.” You chuckle, motioning to the effort he has put into the packaging before you lift out a framed image.

Watching you closely, Bucky can see the light in your eyes twinkle, something he’s loved since he first met you. “What do you think?” Bucky asks after a long pause as you carefully eye the framed image in your grasp.

Averting your gaze from the photo, tears glisten in your eyes. “You really did this, for me?” Your voice cracks as Bucky leans closer, resting his hand on your cheek as he softly chuckles.

“I know how much you love them, doll. I had to get you one.” He tells you before leaning in to kiss you, never wanting to let go.

Until Bucky opens his eyes as gentle purrs sound against his neck bring him back to reality.

Forcing himself upright, Bucky glances to the bare side of the bed, still untouched. “Just a dream.” He mumbles to himself, burying his head in his hands whilst Apline jumps off. “It was just a dream.” He repeats, despite the fact it felt so real. It felt like you were there with him, like old times.

As the morning carries on, all Bucky can think about is your reaction. His dream didn’t do it justice, he couldn’t feel the warmth of your skin or the bitterness of your tears against his lips. All he wants is to hold you close, and never let you go.

“Hey, you ready to go?” Steve knocks on the ajar door, stepping through to see Bucky sat in front of your old dressing table.

Your makeup and perfume remain untouched as the dust begins to collect on the items, but your scent still lingers.

“I, I’ll be a minute.” Bucky replies in a hushed tone, not even lifting his gaze from the framed photograph of you and him from your third anniversary, stood outside of your new home with keys in hand. Both of you unaware you wouldn’t make it to Christmas when he had planned to propose.

“Okay, just, we’re all here, you know.” Steve comments with a tight-lipped smile, watching as his oldest friend silently nods before the door closes, leaving Bucky with his thoughts once more.

“Thank you all for coming,” Bucky starts as everyone stands with him in the beach as waves crash in the distant. “this was Y/n’s favourite place to visit, even if she complained about the amount of sand that would end up in her clothes or shoes, or moan about it in my metal arm once we got home.” He chuckles, and a series of soft laughter follows suit.

Looking past everyone Bucky smiles as the moonlight reflects against the ripples of the ocean. It was nights like these that always felt special between you both, moments where no one else mattered, whatever was said was kept between you and the sea.

“But regardless, she loved it here.” Bucky carries on, picturing you beside him, holding his hand and squeezing it tightly. “On one of our first real dates outside of the compound, Y/n told me about her love for the stars and the universe. How everything happened for a reason.” Bucky explains, looking at all the glossy eyes and sad smiles. “I told her about my past, about HYDRA and if that was part of this ‘plan.’“ Bucky chuckles, remembering how you weren’t phased like he had anticipated about the details he was ashamed to share.

You sat with Bucky on the edge of the beach, just past the rock wall, telling him it made him who he is now. And without that, who knows what would’ve happened.

“Sometimes, on rare occasions, I questioned her logic. And now, I can’t help but question it more than ever.” Bucky pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat as Sam steps forward, but Bucky raises his hand and nods, he’ll carry on for now.

Averting his gaze from everyone around him, Bucky focuses on the dark sheet of velvet above him as all the stars are out to watch and guide him through this speech in honour of you.

“Today is Y/n’s birthday, and I wanted her to have something that would be unique. She was something else, unlike anyone I had ever met and brought so much light into my life.” Bucky pauses briefly, taking a steady breath before looking back at everyone. “I wanted to find something to reflect that, so with Steve’s help, I got her a star.” Bucky’s voice trembles as he lifts his hand up, pointing up to the sky. “Just past the moon, three stars to the left, that’s Y/n.”

Whilst everyone turns their attention to the sky and attempt to pinpoint said star, Bucky wipes his eyes in a moment of solace.

“And I hope she’s found peace out there, that she’s with everyone else.” His eyes glance over to his friends, all who have lost someone in one way or another. “Even though Y/n is gone, she’ll always be beautiful, watching over us.” Bucky can’t stop his voice from cracking as Wanda passes Steve and passes him a tissue, resting her hand on his back.

“You did great, Bucky.” Wanda mutters. “Y/n would be really proud of you.” She comments as tears fall from her eyes.

Taking a moment, Bucky inhales deeply before composing himself once more. “Y/n, she er, she’ll never be forgotten.” Bucky wants to finish his speech, for you, but his hands start to shake and everyone’s eyes on him feel like they’re piercing through his skin. “She, she’ll always be the light of my night, guiding me through.” He forces the words out as he falls to the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks as he bites his tongue, holding the sob back that wracks through his body.

Without glancing up, Bucky knows his friends and colleagues are closer to him, standing guard. “It’s okay, Buck,” Steve whispers as Bucky grips Steve’s shirt as his silent whimpers subside into quiet sobs. “you did her justice.”

“Come on, I’ll drive him home.” Sam calls out as Steve helps Bucky across the beach, not daring to look back at the sky.

“You think he’ll be okay on his own?” Sam questions as Steve walks out from the house that you were supposed to grow old in, noting the withering flowers that once bloomed.

“I hope so,” Steve answers truthfully. “I think it’ll just take time.”

Inside of the house, Bucky sits in the kitchen, nursing a glass of scotch despite it doing nothing besides burning his throat, it was a needed distraction. Yet all he can see in the brown liquid is the moonlight pouring through the large windows.

When you chose the house, you adored the big windows, allowing as much natural light to radiate through the floors. You hated feeling claustrophobic, and this eased that fear. After living in the compound for so many years, living in a house was grounding for you both, a place just to call yours.

Now it couldn’t be further from grounding as it felt like a taunt of what Bucky once had.

Downing the last of his scotch, Bucky throws the empty glass at the window, shattering the scotch glass into pieces.

The sound of Alpine meowing alerts Bucky, snapping him out of his anger at everything.

“Alpine, please, stop.” Bucky grumbles, but Alpine persists from upstairs.

Sighing heavily, Bucky traipses up the stairs, finding Alpine looking out from the balcony in your shared bedroom.

“Alpine?” Bucky calls out, seeing his cat situated happily on the wooden panels as he looks up at the sky as the moonlight illuminates his whiskers. “Come on in, pal.” Bucky motions as he stands in the doorway of the balcony, but Alpine meows in protest once more.

Admitting defeat, Bucky sits down beside his cat, looking up at the sky and focuses on your star.

“I know, I miss her too.” Bucky speaks up as Alpine curls up on his lap.“But she’s looking out for us, just up there.” Bucky smiles sadly as he points up to the sky, but Alpine is fast asleep.

Remaining in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bucky takes everything in. He’s not been on the balcony since you passed, everything just hurt too much. But maybe this was part of the ‘plan’ you always talked about.

Maybe healing won’t be as painful as Bucky has pictured it being, but you’ll be there, whether he can see you or not.

“Happy birthday, Y/n.” Bucky mutters as a tear falls down his cheek as he focuses on your star, swearing he can see it twinkle like the light in your eyes, one last time.

t a g l i s t (thank you for the support!) link in my bio and at the top of this piece to add yourself☺️(if your user isn’t tagged, it’s because nothing comes up sorry!)

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demonslayedher · 3 years

Text

Dream Analysis of Mugen Ressha

Spoilers for the movie, while it does not depart from the plot of the manga, they made adaptational choices which I may refer to within.

While Enmu has control over what kind of dream his victims see, ultimately, he would have no way of knowing all of the details of his victims' lives, so we can assume that he is prompting his victims to fill in a lot of the details themselves. These are the worlds they surround themselves with consciously, but their untouchable unconscious spaces say just as much.

I've said some of this before, but these dream sequences give us so much to say about Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kyojuro, and Tanjiro.

Into the dream: Did that "Rengoku-aniki" thing really happen???? It's animated like a fever dream (or drawn like a typical Gotouge-being-Gotouge panel), but both the movie and the manga leave this inconclusive. It can be interpreted two ways: 1. The two other demons were there all along as decoys, set to appear only when Enmu's blood technique slowly started to take effect so that they'd let their guard down. In this way, we'd know that the boys had a true way of witnessing Kyojuro's prowess and a true bonding moment, thereby making his death hit all the harder later. This would also mean that one of the cars was totally unusable for passengers, and many of the passengers were already thoroughly spooked before falling into sleep. It would also imply that they were all super excited, thoroughly relieved, returned to their seats, and then just passed out.

2. The moment the tickets were clipped, Enmu's very, very, very realistic dreams took immediate effect, but he still needed time before it took effect enough that their guards would go down. If this is the case, then it implies the following: 1. Enmu's illusions can be shared 2. Everyone syncs extremely well together to have all been sucked in by the same illusion (it's possible it was only Tanjiro's, but since we get in everyone's heads a little in this part, I believe they all experienced the same thing). Reacting in ways so true to how they would in waking like, they learned as much about each other as truthfully as they would have if they were fighting while awake. 3. The "Rengoku-aniki" thing is the moment they're falling into a deeper stage of sleep, when any bizarre thing will make sense. They've lost any sense of holding back and are embracing the emotions as they hit them. Even if that was all a dream, the bond formed was very real. But then, as they fall deep, they fall into their own headspaces. Inosuke: I love how bombastic this dream is. It moves at a very fast pace, and everything revolves around Inosuke. He is physically much larger than Ponjiro, Chuuitsu, and Pyonko, who clearly follow him as their leader, the most powerful person in this cave exploring world full of wonder and excitement. True to life, these underlings can at times be frustrating or stupid, but there is no one else Inosuke would rather have at his side to take on a hugely impressive foe. It's a relatively simplistic world, what Inosuke really cares about is his place in it, and who is there.

Taking it a step deeper, he should not be able to manifest in his self-conscious space, but Gotouge attributes his and Zenitsu's ability to do this and protect their cores from intruders to their strong senses of self. What's telling is that his subconscious space is practically identical to his conscious dream space; like there is no breakage between one stage of reality and the next. In its Zen-like simplicity Inosuke's mind is never at odds with itself, its interpretation of reality is fluid and seamless. However, being at this deeper state brings us to a deeper state of self actualization, with Inosuke manifesting closer to the ideal beast he views himself as.

Now, with Inosuke being so fully invested in what he sees as reality, he's still got a carry-over effect from dream after waking up, which one could interpret as not having fully shaken the effects of Enmu's blood technique. After all, Zenitsu simply never broke out of it, Tanjiro had to kill himself in his dreams each time to fully snap out of it, and Kyojuro was the only one powerful enough to have broken through its effects through his own willpower. When Tanjiro says the train is a demon, he buzzes with "I was right!" (a conviction that only got stronger in his dream), and Inosuke's declarations of being the boss and Tanjiro being his underling are indignantly plentiful and he fully believes what he is saying every time he brings it up, even if he's aware that he's no longer in the cave exploring dream. But, given that Inosuke is so at peace with his own version of reality, it's also just as likely that his conviction of being The Boss was also only compounded by the dream, and all that dream did was give him a more fun setting in which to play around in. But, what was so fun about the dream, what made him sleep-giggle with pleasure, was that everyone else was finally getting with the program and recognizing him as the boss, as they should. Finally. It's so frustrating in real life that he has to keep reminding them to get it right. Get it, Santaro?? GOOD. Zenitsu: What I love here is the contrast between subconscious and conscious space. Both of them have the same theme melody, but played in very, very different ways. They also both play with the same core desire in very different ways as well. Is it so much to ask that he can just spend some time alone with the girl he loves?? If we jump straight to the pitch black unconscious space, he specifies to the intruder that only Nezuko is allowed there. Not just girls in general, not a close friend like Tanjiro, only the one girl he loves, and even then, you'd have to love someone a lot to invite them into the deepest, darkest corners of your soul. And it is a very, very, very, very dark corner. Zenitsu's spent most of his life building that dark, pessimistic personality, compounded by the treatment he's always received throughout his life and what he believes about himself at his core. He's ugly and depraved there, and very defensive. Because he holds himself in such darkness, that makes him desire the bright, happy, completely idealistic world of his conscious dream world. It's rich with detail and warm and he knows it well, that places is the first place he ever felt someone have hope for him; it's Jiichan's home, that sunny place with delicious peaches and full of clovers and lush greenery and a charming stream. Of course he'd want to show it all to Nezuko, she deserves to see such a happy, pretty place! And, while the world is idealized and happy, Nezuko is e-x-t-r-e-m-e-l-y cute and actually wants to hang out with him too. She's willing no hold his hand, none of the girls who dated (read: used) Zenitsu in the past were ever willing to hold his hand. He even gets to show her that he can be cool, and she likes it!! She looks him in the eyes and is totally honest about enjoying his company!!

He just wants someone to want him back. He wants to belong in the sunshine too. So, even if he had it in him to wake up from Enmu's blood technique, who can blame him for staying there? (You know, besides Tanjiro, who has been desperately screaming for them all to wake up and help him protect the passengers. Zzzzz, five more minutes, Tanjiro, zzzzzzz----) Kyojuro: This... isn't really a happy dream. Kyojuro has accepted a lot of sad parts of his reality so wholeheartedly that he doesn't seek the comfort of a dream in which his mother is still alive, or a dream in which his father is proud of him. Instead, what Kyojuro was looking for was the chance to go back and say more to Senjuro. This implies that on the real day he knelt in that room, while his father faced away and read the book* while Kyojuro told him all about how he defeated Lower Moon Two and became a Pillar, and was met with his father's heartbreakingly unenthusiastic reply, he later went outside and...

...didn't say any words of comfort to Senjuro.

This regret, that he didn't do more for his brother whom he knew was hurting in his own silent ways this whole time, was what sat most bothersomely in Kyojuro's otherwise peacefully self-assured psyche (or fired-up psyche, if you go by his subconscious space) . It makes sense that in his dying wishes, the first thing he requests is that Tanjiro do this in his stead. *Speaking of that book, Kyojuro had forgotten about it until his memories pulled together to create the details of the dream, which was why he thought to mention it to Tanjiro later. This shows that Enmu is not an architect of people's dreams, he only sets them in motion. How believable they are depends on each victim. (Totally unrelated, I love the design of the Rengoku estate's garden??? It's primarily evergreen and unflowering trees, meaning it stays relatively steadfast throughout the year, a garden designed in samurai villa taste. Plus the details of the house also fit really well, I think??? Would need to review research of buke-yashiki architecture to say more.) Tanjiro: ...*deep breath* This boy really, really wants to go home. Like, the climax of the movie is amazing and all, but it's the scenes with Tanjiro's family that make me cry. Ugh, where do I start. Enmu probably just grabs on to whatever thread of a desire a person has, and then he just tugs on it and says "this way, let's go really far in this direction, show me where it goes, hmm, okay, nice, lovely. Have fun here, I've now seen enough to write my own angsty version for later." So... so I'm just going to work backwards a moment. Enmu screwed up here, thinking he could really read the depth of Tanjiro's family and his feelings for them. He thought he could make a convincing version of these "characters" cry and shove Tanjiro around and speak meanly to him and make him feel shame. And the cut to that dream, OH MY GOSH, truly horrific sound and color change. But Tanjiro's sees through it so fast that he wakes up immediately and uses that anger at how Enmu wrote them to cut off his "head." You screwed up, Enmu, you blew it, maybe other people would very so blown down by the shock that they wouldn't question how unreal that dream sequence is, but Tanjiro has honed his fighting spirit so much that it's been nagging him even throughout his happy dream. And he really, really, really wants to stay in that happy dream. Like, even though he's on guard at the beginning, so much so that he only focuses on the familiar feeling of a demon being around and does not notice the familiar landscape AT ALL. But the moment Hanako and Shigeru step in, convincingly made from Tanjiro's memories and unedited by Enmu, Tanjiro throws that all away in an instant. As he says when he's trying, after trying and trying and trying to rip himself away from the dream, he was never even supposed to had left this world. He was never supposed to had touched anything like a sword, they were all supposed to stay there together, living their simple life. If things hadn't gone wrong that one night. Tanjiro cares deeply about his mission, he's adopted his training deeply, he has serious desire to improve, which is why his subconsciously keeps trying to call himself back to reality, but it's so hard, because this is where he wants to be, and it's even harder because it feels so real. It's a little peeve of mine when families with lots of little siblings are written to be too angelic and idealistic, and there is some of that with the "let's make sembei, yaaaay" scene, but... but that's actually pretty true. I'm giving myself away with how close this hits to home, but it's a dynamic in a lot of large families, especially large families pretty happy to stay to themselves and people who live the same sort of conservative, traditional lifestyle, to foster in the older siblings some pride in taking care of the little ones and helping create that happy world for them, even if taking care of little kids can be rough. It's not to say that things are always happy and fluffy, they're not, and that's not to say even

happy kids don't resent being in a large family sometimes. But there's plenty of moments in daily life, especially in the presence of small children, that you get swept up into a sillier, happy, caretaker side of yourself, and since you all grow up with these silly moments together, you're going to naturally fall into into some silly, scripted-feeling moments of "then I'll be in charge of eating the sembei!" "no faaaaair!". So, I'll give the sembei scene a pass because that IS a moment that happens in years of moments with the same posse of kiddos around you all the time. But it's also so striking to me how each of Tanjiro's siblings, however idealized, has their own personality. The traits are so subtle but consistent and Tanjiro knows all of them. They pick up on things about each other, they grow realistically annoyed and surprised and concerned and scared like they would if they were real instead of only Tanjiro's memories of them. Those kids feel so real to me, even if they are annoyingly overidealized in some parts as Tanjiro is letting himself get swept away. And just when he's managing to part from it to go face reality, Enmu makes more attack: he brings in Nezuko, trying to make it feel like there's no point in Tanjiro running at all. She's fine. There's nothing left for him to fight for. Everything's fine. And all over again, Tanjiro just stops. He KNOWS it's not real, but he's hurting so much to hear her voice again that he just sto-o-o-o-ps. And his desire to stay with the others catches up to him all over again, and he's tempted all over again to stay, EVEN KNOWING IT'S NOT REAL and there are very, very, very pressing matters to attend to. Even if it was all a little happy and idealized, more than anything, it felt like life always did. It's telling that when Tanjiro finally, FINALLY pulls away from that that time, he doesn't look back, and the family stops chasing him. This is Tanjiro accepting reality, however much it hurts. He's already had a couple years to accept this, but it was all overwhelming to get such a vivid taste of it again.

Tanjiro wants to do well to his organization and honor Urokodaki's training and avenge the fallen and prevent anyone else from being hurt and see an end to Kibutsuji Muzan and make Nezuko human again, but more than anything, he wants that simple life. And it's so, so heartwarming that at the end of the manga, he gets it.

It's not the same. It'll never be the same.

He never wanted a life with a sword, but he's been working so hard at it anyway.

#my heart is broken and it's Kamado Tanjiro's fault #KnY Fandom Theories and Meta #Mugen Ressha Hen #Kamado Tanjiro #Kamado Tanjirou #Agatsuma Zenitsu #Hashibira Inosuke #Rengoku Kyoujurou #Rengoku Kyojuro

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its-me-im-coraline · 3 years

Text

Regrets // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1557

warnings // angst, mentions of abusive relationships (not details)

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader, Ethan Torchio x Platonic!Reader

author's note // taglist here. please only let me know if you want to be tagged on that google form so i know what to tag you on, thank you

I KNOW I MADE HER LOOK LIKE AN ASSHOLE BUT MY ANGSTY ASS NEEDED SOMETHING LIKE THIS TO BE ABLE TO WRITE THIS FIC SOOO... I LOVE VICTORIA, I DON'T THINK SHE'S AN ASSHOLE AND THE WHOLE I BULLY YOU MEANS I HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU TROPE IS STUPID IN EVERY OTHER OCCASION BUT IN FANFICTION ITS FINE

also i changed the original tittle because i didnt like it that much

request // yes

summary // Reader is Ethan's best friend and because of that they are around the band a lot. Maybe a hint of jealously, a toxic partner and a visit at the hospital will be enough to change their relationship with Victoria from hate to love. Or maybe the love was there all along.

The first time the two met each other was right after the band finally united. Y/N’s had been Ethan’s best friend for years now, making the fateful meeting inevitable - as well as the obscure amount of time they would have to spend around each other. If anything, the drummer was attached to the hip with his best friend, tagging them along to every show, many rehearsals (there was even a suggestion to come with him on Måneskin’s European tour - it would be a nightmare if they did).

Victoria did not take long to adopt a defensive mode against them, one that not even she could decipher. Maybe it was the way they were just always there, like leech attached to her bandmate, or maybe it was that annoying way they dressed, all out there and attracting her attention, or maybe it was that stupid girlfriend of theirs that just had to make it known they were a couple. She really did get on Victoria’s nerves a awful lot. She was nice, not going to lie, just maybe a little too nice - ickly nice, she’d say. She wasn’t sure why but that girl simply made Victoria’s gut drop every time.

For years, as that relationship lasted, Victoria and Y/N would butt heads, always at each other’s throat with something to say and complain about. What are they doing here again, the bassist would ask over and over again. Just here to piss you off, Y/N would say, walking to Ethan. Other times it’d be the opposite. It just always was… a mess.

Everyone could see the situation the two found themselves into but no one could do anything. No, not until they opened their own damn eyes.

The dislike between the two only grew stronger and stronger as time passed by, with their insults getting worse. Truth be told, no one expected it to get that bad, and now they just hoped to stop.

For a while, Y/N was facing some drama in the relationship, some that could end up pretty bad. Not few were the nights Ethan would get a phone call in the middle of rehearsal, sobbing heard even beyond his phone. Please, please come get me Ethan. I don’t think …. The rest was inaudible for Victoria, not that I care, she would remind herself, moving on with her work.

On occasion she’d joke about it to Y/N. What? Trouble in paradise, cucciolo? Oh well. Deep down she knew she should not say that but she could not control herself. Y/N was pretty put together some of those times, others they’d just snap with no regard to anything. Just shut your fucking mouth, they said once adding a few profanities to explain their anger.

After the fourth time it happened the blonde had gotten genuinely angry. “Ok, enough. Close your phone, Ethan,” she spat out, almost snatching it off his hand. “They can wait.”

“But-”

“No! They have cut short three out of our four rehearsals this week! This is the fifth rehearsal, Ethan, their fourth time! They’re a big kid now, they should not need you all the time.”

In time she would regret those words but in that moment they seemed appropriate. She had grown exasperated at their constant interruptions. Well, most of the time they were not really disturbing - they’d call on a break or just cuddle with Ethan on a break, at a time they had for the solemn reason of relaxing - but Victoria would not admit that. Not to herself and not to anyone.

“Ok.” Ethan whispered the words, silencing his phone with a heavy heart. He had a bad feeling, that he knew for sure, but he did not feel like fighting with the blond bassist.

The hours they worked passed by quickly, feeling more like quick moving water, their session was simply flowing. It was now quiet, maybe around three in the morning. 2.58 AM read the clock on the table. Ethan was sure his best friend was sleeping by now. He’d shoot them a text and then go to sleep as well - lord knows he needed it. Well, not everything always goes as planned.

Victoria was by him when it happened.

His phone started to ring while he was about to walk to his room. Y/N. If he was not concerned earlier that night there was no way he was not now. It was not common for them to call at hours like this, if anything they were usually asleep by eleven, maybe even twelve.

“Pronto. Che? A- cazzo, sì, sì. Sto venendo ora.” showing off my italian lol

“Ethan? What happened?” She was not sure of her feelings in that instant. Why was she even asking him? She did not care about them, right? But no, no, it was not worry. It was fear of guilt. And worry, but that she was not aware of.

“Y/N is at the hospital,” he breathed out, “they- uhm… Their ex hurt them - thank god their neighbor was there and heard what happened. Oh my- if-if-if he was not there Y/N-”

Victoria could not stand seeing her friend like that. She believes that she’s never once seen Ethan this emotional - not negatively emotional, that is. He always keeps his composure so well but this time it just was not possible. The blonde just stood there now, holding Ethan in her arms, whispering comforting things to him, hoping that he’d calm down a bit.

“I-I should’ve answered the phone Vic… It- I could have prevented this. Oh god, it’s my-”

“Ethan no! If it’s anyone’s fault here, it’s mine. I should not have snapped like I did.”

“I- yeah. Yeah, you know what, yeah, it is your fault.” He was sad, he was anxious, he was angry… A whirlwind of emotions really, and Victoria’s statement made him target it to her. “It is your fault Vic, with that-that stupid, stupid, conflict you two have. I’m leaving.”

“Where are yo-”

“To the hospital! Where the fuck else?” Ethan’s voice was rising by the second, as his blood started boiling in his veins. He knew he could not drive there, but he was not about to say it.

“I’ll drive you-”

“No. I can do it on my own.”

“Please. It’s the least I can do.” Victoria’s eyes were cast to the floor, unsure of what else to do. She knew that things were taken too far this time, the least she could do was drive her friend to the hospital.

The drive there was quiet. Neither knew what to say. Victoria was feeling guilty, afraid, and even worried about Y/N’s well-being, regardless of whether she could she tried to focus on the road. More injured people would not be helpful. Ethan on the other hand was fuming. He was angry out of his head; at his blonde friend, at himself and most of all that bitch, Y/N’s ex. She was the one to cause all of this, all of it, even problems he was not aware she was the cause of.

As they arrived there there was even more trouble on their way. He’s not family, he’s not a spouse, neither is Victoria. It was always like that. They would not let them pass if they were not either of those things but, god bless that man, the nurse that called him showed up, recognizing the voice and assuring the nurse, on the front, that he was indeed the only person on their emergency contacts, they had to pass. With a lot of complaining they were finally let to pass.

When they walked in the room Y/N was laying on the bed asleep and at first both their minds went to the worst case scenario. “I have given them some painkillers for now. They’ll be ok but some injuries cause severe pain -” he was walking outside along with Ethan.

Victoria was now left alone in the room with Y/N, although it felt as if she was looking at a photo of them rather than the real life Y/N. “I’m sorry,” was all she could say, the only thing that felt right to do at that moment. “It’s my fault -oh my it is! Ethan, he-he wanted to respond to the call by I-I got so angry!” She cried out, now grasping Y/N’s hand. “I can only hope he can forgive me. Hell, I hope you forgive me. It’s my fault you’re-”

“It’s not, Victoria.”

“You are awake?”

“It’s not your fault. I was already here when I called the first time. Neither of you could have changed a thing.” They were so calm - maybe it was the painkillers, she thought. “Thank you. For the apology I mean.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry for everything Y/N. I-”

“Hey, stop! It’s ok. What’s by is by,” they laughed, never missing the opportunity to joke. (you know, bi - by… terrible pun)

“I, uh,” she paused, thinking of what to say next. She remembered a small chocolate bar in her pocket. She was about to eat it when the call happened. “I don’t know if you’re supposed to eat chocolate but I know you like it.”

“Oh my, it’s my favorite,” they gushed, prompting Vic to come closer.

“Come, sit, sit! We can share it.”

“Yeah, I guess we can.”

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @teenyweenynightghost @superchrystaldrug

#måneskin #måneskin imagine #måneskin fanfic #måneskin x reader #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis imagine

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thecatprince · 3 years

Text

How to say I love you without ever saying it at all

Read on AO3

Summary: I love you. Virgil has always struggled with saying those words. Roman has been hurt by them one too many times. However some things don't need to expressed through words.

Pairings: Prinxiety

Warnings: Slight Janus and Patton negativity (Janus moreso than Patton), roman is very angsty, i think that is about it!

Authors Notes: Another Post-POF/FWSA Prinxiety fic? You’d better believe it! (This is the only thing I know how to write now aalhdjhakfjadhf) This is a little different from my usual style of writing, so I hpe you enjoy! If you like this fic then please leave a comment or reblog as that makes my day!

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I love you.

Virgil had always struggled with saying those words. Something about the weight of them and what they meant and implied, felt too much and tended to cause him anxiety. He opted to show his feelings instead, showing his love and care through actions, doing and saying other things that help to convey his emotions towards others.

I love you, he said as he hung out with Patton, talking about feelings and eating cookies. I love you, he said as he listened to Logan talk about the latest book he had read. I love you, he said as he sat with Roman, allowing the creative side to do his makeup and paint his nails, talking about Disney and swapping nicknames as they did so. He never said any of those things out loud, but he always felt it, and he knew they knew.

I love you. Roman hated those words. He had once loved them, the way they sounded, the way it provided a sense of warmth, the weight of them and how they could easily express want, comfort, support, friendship and, well, love. That was, until those words had been weaponised.

“Oh Roman, you know I love you.”

Those words were cold, slippery, smooth and hurtful. Roman knew love, one of his functions was literally romantic love, and this wasn’t it. No one who loved someone would hurt them this way, poke at their insecurities, build them up just to knock them down, use them and then leave them in the dust. To Roman, those words coming from his mouth sounding meaningless. Cold. Fake. Sharp. Those words hurt.

Roman desperately wanted to believe Patton when he said he loved him. He wanted to run into Patton’s arms, have Patton hold him while he cried, comfort him with cookies and a smile. But Patton had stood by. He had let this happen. He had moved forward, understood everything quicker than Roman, had hurt Roman and then left him behind. He wanted to believe Patton loved him, but he didn’t even say anything while Janus stood there and tore him down.

“We love you kiddo.”

“You know I love you.”

Those words, used again and again, with no real proof of any actual meaning. Roman wanted to believe them, believe that they loved him and that he was loveable, but when he heard those words all he could think about was how much they had hurt him.

Roman had sunk out and had barely made it to his room before he broke down, shaking as sobs wracked his body, feeling weak, fragile and broken. He had felt useless, worthless, wrong and hurt. He had felt more alone than ever, used, broken and left behind by everyone who had said they had loved him.

Except for Virgil.

Virgil and Roman had never really gotten along in the past, often at each other’s throats, there desires conflicting in almost every scenario. But, slowly and gradually, they grew closer. It started small, talking about neutral topics like Disney or favourite foods, teasing each other in a friendly manner, and then slowly talking about bigger issues, what they wanted, their goals in life. They started to hang out, spend hours doing each other’s makeup and watching The Nightmare Before Christmas so much they could recite it by heart. And in the midst of the chaos, the pain and the insecurity Roman was feeling, Virgil came and helped him.

Virgil had seen the signs. The way Roman put up a wall of dramatics and theatrics to hide his insecurities, the way he insulted people to drive them away, the way he made fun of things he loved to lessen the pain when others did it, the way he continuously and repeatedly got pushed down, brushed off, manipulated and made mistakes. Virgil had seen the hurt in his eyes when someone rejected an idea of his. He had seen Roman flinch whenever Janus spoke. He had seen the raw pain and heartbreak in his face when he found Roman after Janus’ acceptance, seen the broken shell of a side who was formerly strong and proud and brave.

And Virgil knew. He knew that he had to save Roman. Because he had been down that path. He had thought no one had loved him, that they didn’t care or hated him, that they didn’t need him, or were better off without him. He could see Roman going down the same path and knew it was only a matter of time before Roman was gone.

So when Virgil found Roman alone in his room, body shaking as he cried, looking broken and weak, Virgil knew he needed to try and save him. He loved Roman, and he couldn’t stand to lose him, not after they had come so far. Virgil felt a need to protect him, to hold him and save him from the pain.

I love you, he told Roman as he held him close as he cried. I love you, he said as he rubbed circles on Roman’s back, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. I love you, he thought, as he listened to Roman talk about everything he was feeling and thinking, knowing that he was only scratching the surface and that there was so much Roman was hiding. I love you, he said as he whispered words of comfort to the broken figure in his arms, holding him as close to his chest as he could, afraid that if he let go Roman would just break apart and disappear. “I’m here for you.” I love you. “It’s okay.” I love you. “You matter to me.” I love you. “I’m not leaving you.” I love you. “You’re my hero.” I love you. “You are amazing.” I love you. “You deserve so much love and happiness.” I love you. “You matter.” I love you. “I care about you.” I love you.

Roman had eventually fallen asleep, and Virgil had stayed the night, as if needing to protect him from every invisible force that could hurt him as he slept. And he never left. Day after day he stuck by Roman’s side, helping him pick up all the broken pieces of his life, sharing all of their scariest and darkest thoughts and all of times they felt worthless, useless, unwanted, unloved. Day by day they grew closer and closer, and slowly, gradually, naturally, Virgil found himself falling in love with Roman. He had always loved Roman, ever since they had all saved him from ducking out, but this was different. Being in love with Roman was warm, gentle, sweet, welcoming and natural.

And every day he showed it. He showed it by listening to Roman bare his soul to him late at night, when things were said that couldn’t be said during daylight. He showed it through staying with Roman for every step of the way, both of them leaning on each other for support and building each other up, piece by piece. He showed it by being there for Roman through the good and the bad, listening to Roman rant about whatever Disney movie, gay cartoon show or musical he was obsessed with at that moment, and comforting him when everything was too much and he broke down crying.

But Virgil could tell that Roman never really understood how much he cared, never really let himself believe that Virgil could care for him. He could see it in the way that Roman’s expression faltered whenever Virgil smiled at him, the way he cautiously smiled back, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards slightly before returning it with a sad grin. He noticed the emotions swimming in Roman’s eyes when he looked at him, the almost raw desperateness and dimming hope, as if almost wanting to believe something but not quite letting himself do so. And every time he noticed it, it broke his heart, but he didn’t give up. He would wait as long as it took for Roman to understand how much he loved him.

And then entered Nico. And Nico, well, he was simultaneously the best and worst thing that had ever happened to Thomas. The best because Nico brought Thomas such a sheer amount of excitement and happiness into his life that he had so desperately needed after the complete clusterfuck that was the wedding/callback situation. The worst because Nico brought change and change was scary. After this point there was no turning back. They were moving forward, into uncharted territory and it scared Virgil, more than anything. Not to mention the pain that they had felt at the last heartbreak, something Virgil wanted to avoid at all costs.

But Roman had looked so heartbroken, and he had gone through so much pain and hardship already, and he was just standing there, looking devastated and resigned. Virgil knew how much Roman wanted this, how much he craved this and how much he deserved it. Because Roman did deserve it. He deserved to be heard, to have happiness, to have his desires and wants and dreams be fulfilled, without being called selfish, bad, wrong, evil. What Roman wanted mattered, and Virgil could hardly stand the way he looked in that moment.

And so Virgil did the only thing he could do. And finally – finally - Roman understood. Roman looked at Virgil, the expression of brokenness and despair he had felt seconds ago morphing into one of disbelief and shock and eventually elation. Roman smiled, truly smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he let out a huff of laughter, evidently over the moon. All Virgil could do was stare as Roman transformed from the broken man he had known to the dashing, lively, passionate prince he had always been. And Virgil knew that Roman understood.

The push, for Roman. A silent I love you.

A hand on his shoulder. That look on his face. The highest of compliments.

I love you too.

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Thanks for reading!! Feel free to leave comments, reblogs or thoughts as that is greatly appreciated!!

#cat writes #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfic #hurt/comfort #roman angst #ngl kind of proud of the second half of this #patton negativity #janus negativity #i love patton but Roman is hurting so that is why it is there #ask to tag

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zuluc · 4 years

Text

anonymous requested: hii !! do you mind writing a hurt/comfort fic with kaeya? reader saw something that reminded them of something that happened in the past (could be loosing almost all of their loved ones, just something traumatizing) and kaeya comforts them (bonus request : friends to lovers and kaeya accidentally confesses as he comforts the reader)

pairing: kaeya alberich x gn!reader

style & genre: written; angst & comfort, angst to fluff

warnings: mentions & description of death; violence on the hilichurls

notes: it will be angsty hours (this one is only a little angsty dw); i felt that there needed to be a backstory because it would seem too rushed without one

i hope i do not misrepresent anything because losing someone is not a light topic. if i have offended anyone with anything in this fic, please message me

She was the little girl you looked after whenever her father went off to sell his wares. She was the sweetest and she loved seeing you as you always made sure she never felt lonely.

You kept her safe and warned off anything and everything that frightened her in the forest you would walk through. She, in turn, would gift you with flowers, namely cecilias, because she knew they were your favorite.

But how you ended up in that situation, what you saw, it still felt unreal.

It happened so quickly when the hilichurls threw their fire slimes into the small village, setting ablaze the wooden structures and homes where families were. So quick that the path for an exit out of her home was already engulfed in flames.

Her hand tries to desperately reach for yours as she backs away from the Abyss Mage. There’s a terrified look in her eyes as it nears her but your body is frozen in place. Why couldn’t you get to her or pull her out of there?

“Y/n!” She calls out for you. You’re begging your body to move but it won’t.

“Y/n!!”

The town was devastated at the loss, many lives were claimed before help arrived. Her father pats your back but you can’t face him. He told you that it wasn’t your fault but you couldn’t believe him. You saw her life be taken away and you could have done something. You could have moved. But you were struck with fear.

“I’m sorry,” are the last words he hears from you when you leave the village that next night.

It’s been a year since then and a few months since you joined the knights. You still haven’t recovered, but that didn’t mean you never gained a new perspective. After that night, you pledged to not make the same mistake again. She would have forgiven you, even her father said so, but you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

The Knights of Favonius welcomed you with open arms, Kaeya especially. He first seemed like he was hiding something but it was just his nature, you learned, though you weren’t sure why he took an interest in you. He would even take you to taverns to try to get you drunk enough to share your secrets. He never got your past out of you, however.

To be honest, Kaeya liked your personality that grew on him as the days passed. You were cheerful and had that fond look on your face while watching the kids run around. But there was that sadness that underlay your facade when the kids were gone.

“Are you alright?” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you near your destination.

It was supposed to be a quick mission: finish off the remaining hilichurls in the area and possibly treasure hoarders if they were close by and decided to mess with the knights yet again. Easy, right?

Kaeya is paired with you for the patrol and you didn’t mind it one bit. You had come to know him during your time with the Knights of Favonius and he would always be kind to you, albeit mildly flirtatious. And you couldn’t deny that he was quite attractive.

“They should be around here. How much would you like to bet to see who can get the most?” He tilts his head at you and you roll your eyes.

“In mora or wine?”

“Ah, you know me well,” he laughs lightly and summons his sword, you doing the same. “Why don’t we make it a night at the tavern? With wine, of course.”

“Deal,” you respond, running forward when a hilichurl spots the both of you, “I’m sure it’ll be your bill to pay!” He joins you quickly to make sure that you don’t hog all of them to yourself.

The hilichurls weren’t a problem as you dealt with them on numerous occasions so it was a fairly short battle. There is only the largest one left, brandishing it’s large wooden shield. You manage to distract it from the front, but it pushes you out of the way. You scowl at the pain in your side from contact with the ground but it comes charging. You narrow your eyes and try to jump out of the way but not before Kaeya pulls you to the side. He points to a small puddle and you nod your head.

You rush forward to bait it and once it’s foot is in the water, Kaeya freezes it as you both continue the last assault.

“Thanks,” you say to him, rubbing your left arm that you know is going to bruise.

“Of course, I’ll always watch out for you,” he places his hand on your arm and it’s cool to the touch. You’re grateful for the relief but you look away before he can notice the blush on your cheeks at his soft touch. “And I believe I took down one more than you,” he teases.

“As if! We finished the last one together.” You retaliate with no malice in your voice.

“Okay, okay! We’re even, but let’s go get you--”

“Help! Anyone!” You both turn your attention to the yell coming from over a cliff, rushing to it quickly. A carriage had been overturned with hilichurls surrounding it. You heard a child crying inside with her mother shouting for help. The father of the family is to the side of the road and you run over to check for a pulse. Luckily he is only knocked out so you move him behind a boulder.

“I’ll distract them and you get them out,” Kaeya whispers, gripping his sword tightly. You nod and he quietly sneaks up on one of them, slicing it from behind. You sprint to the underside of the carriage and climb to the top, breaking the handle and throwing the door open. The two look up at you and the mother’s face breaks out in relief. She hands you her child and you hold her, placing her close to the side and out of sight. You take the mother’s hand and she steps out to embrace her daughter again but she’s gone.

The little girl is right in front of the both of you and one of the larger hilichurls is approaching her.

“M-Mom...” she stutters and trips backwards as she tries to get away. The mother is staring ahead, afraid to move herself as if if she moves her daughter will be snatched much quicker.

But you, you are frozen in place. Again.

“No, no...” you manage to mutter to yourself and force your right foot to scoot forward. The hilichurl pounds its fist on it’s chest and holds it’s axe up. You look at the girl and she is reaching her hand back. Towards you.

You pledged not to make the same mistake again.

“Y/n!”

In flash you lunge towards the girl, pulling her to you in the process and shielding her from the blunt of the force. Your sword was summoned behind you and while it wouldn’t take up all of the attack, it would do enough for you to take the rest and have the girl protected.

She is clutching onto you tightly and you open your eyes when you hear the familiar crinkle of icicles behind you. The hilichurl staggers back and Kaeya takes the opportunity to pieces his sword through its head.

“Y/n!”

The family thanks you profusely before the soldiers appear and help with the cleanup. Kaeya receives the thanks and the girl runs over to where you were, crouched behind a stone.

“Um,” she approaches you slowly, holding out a cecilia, “t-thank you.” You take the flower and smile at her gently. She runs off back to her mom and they leave with the soldiers.

You clutch the flower close to your chest as you let sobs rack over your body. Kaeya searches for you to make sure you’re okay and he sees you crying into yourself. Gently, he kneels down and coaxes you into his arms.

You’re muttering to yourself and he makes out the words “it happened again” and “I could have done it again.” Your breathing quickens and he tries to quiet you down, patting down your hair while rubbing your back. “K-Kaeya--”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. It’s all over.” He’s holding you tightly but you shake your head. He must have thought you were scared of the fact that you could have gotten injured, but that wasn’t the case.

“No, you don’t understand I could have made the same mistake again and I could have killed that girl!”

“Y/n, what do you mean?” Kaeya you tighter to him and you finally spill out the story you’ve been hiding. Throughout your words you think that he’s going to hate you. You think that he’ll be repulsed that you let that happen. He’s not.

He continues his soft ministrations, “That didn’t happen here, y/n. You saved her, she’s okay.” Your hands grip the cloth of his jacket. “While I wasn’t there and I can’t imagine what you felt in that moment, I know it wasn’t something you did intentionally. Like you said, her father didn’t blame you because it wasn’t your fault.”

“But--”

“And you’ve been holding this all to yourself,” he holds your face close to his, only centimeters away, “if you see yourself from an outsider’s point of view, you do your best to save people. You look out for everyone, especially the children and that girl, she’ll be there in your memory and she’ll be so proud of what you’re doing right now, knowing it’s not holding you back but making you stronger.”

“While what I’m saying isn’t going to fix everything, even though my linguistic powers are one of a kind,” he smiles at the small laugh it gets out of you, “just know that you can come to me. Okay?”

You finally look straight at him and nod your head with the limited movement his hold provided you with. “Okay.”

“Good,” Kaeya releases you and helps you stand with a hold on your hand. When you stand fully, he cups your cheek to place a small kiss on your forehead, not letting go of your hand and instead squeezing it. “Let’s head to the tavern now.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya

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capituloperdido1 · 3 years

Text

Traitor Pt 3 (Final)

Hello everyone!

So happy that you guys liked my little story, i am hoping to write much more in the future. So please let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to read. Here is pt3 and last part of the Traitor fic. There is a 'prequel' and it is very angsty, if you guys want that as well let me know.

Enjoy!

It had been three days, three days without seeing Azriel. He didn't show to practice, neither he looked for her in the library.

Coward, coward, coward

She was so mad, how was saying sorry so hard for him?

Or was he embarrassed that he lost to her? no, Azriel would never be embarrassed about that. He was just too afraid to face her.

Or maybe he didn't care, maybe he wanted to fix things with Elain and not her.

Yeah, that might be the answer.

That afternoon Nesta had asked her to come over to the house of wind and stay over with her while Cassian was away in a mission. She climbed the stairs of the library, while preparing to be in the same house as Azriel.

He was not talking to her, fine, she would not talk to him.

Nesta was waiting for her at the door, "please don't kill me, please, please". She said while grabbing Gwyns bags, "my sisters came over for dinner and have not left, i can kick them out but we have to wait a bit for Rhysand to leave Nyx at Amren's"

She smiled

Perfect this night has started perfectly.

"Of course, yeah no problem."

They arrived at the room, and Gwyn felt panic rising to her throat at the sight of the middle Archeron sister. She was probably pissed at Gwyn for all that had happened, she probably hated Gwyn because of it.

"Hi Gwyn!" said Feyre.

"Feyre" she bowed, "thank you for having me".

Elain looked at her, smiled, and kept talking to Feyre.

Well, that's better than the slap she had expected.

She sat besides Nesta and prayed that her High Lord would come soon.

------

An hour past, and the four women were tangled in a conversation about wine when a knock came at the door.

Gwyn felt a tug at her chest; he is here it seemed to say.

Fuck.

"Im sorry to interrupt ladies" a breathy voice said, " i am here for my high lady and her sister". She turned around and faced the male speaking, he wore rather casual clothing compared to the illyrian leathers. His black tight shirt and cargo black pants accentuated his muscles, and his hair was messier than usual.

His eyes landed on hers, and his slight smirk fell.

Oh, great. I'm not happy to see you either, she thought.

Elain stood and quickly walked towards Azriel, but he did not break Gwyns stare; not even while he grabbed the arms of both women and they said bye to Nesta and her.

He looked at Nesta, "is this... a sleep over?" he said softly.

"yes, and you are very much not invited" Nesta responded.

He smirked, "ill be back" he looked at Gwyn.

"Don't leave" he said.

She looked away.

"Please" he said to her, his voice pained and desperate.

And with that, he left.

Nesta smiled and crossed her arms. "You planned this didn't you?" Gwyn asked her sister, "mhm, he helped me get a mate i help him find the balls to talk to you" she answered.

-----------

Gwyn was not one for drinking, but waiting for Azriel to come had made her so anxious that she had considered asking the house for Cassian's oldest bottle of Whiskey to drink it all by herself. Instead, she had been served a big, fat piece of chocolate cake; accompanied by water.

Nesta was in front of her, watching with admiration as Gwyn devoured the cake.

Mother, she loved chocolate.

The tug at her heart began once more, the feeling of comfort and hurt that Azriel brought upon her growing as the seconds flew by.

"He is here" she whispered to Nesta, "I am not ready to face him".

"He is not ready to face you" she answered.

A soft knock came at the door, and the creak of the wooden door was the most terrifying thing Gwyn had ever heard.

"Shadowsinger" Nesta said, "you are just on time". Nesta stood, grabbed Gwyns hand and squeezed it softly, "i need to go fix some paperwork for Cassian, could you please stay with Gwyn while i come back?"

Really Nesta? Thanks.

"Sure, thank you" he answered.

-----------

She did not feel Nesta leaving, neither she looked up to see where Azriel stood in the room. Her hands had become the most entertaining thing in the world at that moment, and nothing would change that.

"Gwyn" he called.

She felt him getting closer, and it took all her will not to jump to his arms.

He stopped, "please, look at me".

"No" she said, "you don't get to demand for me to stay, for me to talk to you, for me to look at you".

Cauldron was he clueless, did he not have a sense of communication?

He is trying, the voice of her heart seemed to say.

"I know that, but... I need... I need to see your eyes" Azriel said. Slowly, she felt him kneel in front of her; not too close as to startle her, but close enough that she could feel the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar filling her nose.

"May i touch you?" He said, stretching his hand towards her.

Yes, please

She only nodded softly.

His hands grabbed her chin and lifted it to face him. "There you are" he smiled, "there they are". His eyes looked deeply into hers, as if he was trying to memorize each feature in them; he seemed... desperate to memorize her. As if what he was about to say would make her disappear from his side forever.

" I have a whole speech prepared" Azriel said, "but i don't think you're the type to want to hear rehearsed words, so let me give it a try..."

Quieter than she had ever heard him, Azriel began " I have always been alone, the shadows and the dark being my best friends..."

"I only knew friendship and love when Rhys opened his home to me; but even as my brothers and i grew, i still felt alone.... empty. I longed for something that would be entirely mine, something that no one else would share, something i would never have to part with." His voice breaking, Azriel inhaled and tucked his hands in his pockets.

"I met Mor when she was very young, she was such a happy girl; always teasing and playing, always happy even with the shitty family she was born into. She lightened my days, she gave me a reason to wake up in the morning; i began to love her before i expected" his voice filled with pain he said, "and i loved her for five hundred years..."

"I thought she had to be my mate, because no one else would make me as happy as her; and i waited for five hundred years for the mating bond to click. Disregarding her feelings, her insecurities and fears; i pushed my feelings down her throat, hoping she would pity me enough to give me a chance".

His confession broke her. What kind of thoughts went through the mind of this beautiful man to say anything like that?

"Meeting Elain was different, i was finally able to help someone as broken as me. I had a purpose beyond violence. I looked forward to sharing time with her, i wanted push her to be better, to forget about that undeserving human boy" He continued, "once she began to get better, i realized that i was not the only thing grounding her. Her sisters, the wraiths, gardening, and even her mate gave her courage to keep going. And i am so selfish, selfish enough to begin loving her; demanding from her what she is not ready to give".

"The winter solstice that i tried to give her the necklace, i did it out of a desire for her to be mine. My thoughts were never about how much i loved and admired her, but rather that i deserved Elain, that three brothers and three sisters made more sense than what the cauldron had chosen".

Gwyn shuttered, her heart squeezing lightly at the words coming from his mouth.

"But i realized long ago, that Elain deserves to choose her own path; neither Lucien nor me are entitled to her, she should be master of her own destiny" He said, no pain noticeable in his voice. "I had to let go, for my sake, my court's sake; but most importantly, for her".

"I could tell you more about my mistakes, and i will, but i have to explain why i gave that necklace to you." He moved closer to her, their knees touching. "That night, Gwyn, the conversation we had made my heart sing; you changed my mood so quickly, and you didn't even know it. You looked, so free, so competitive, so happy".

"Then, after i left that night, i realized that i wanted to see your smile again; so i left the necklace to Clotho and asked her to bring you some joy in that lonely solstice night. And my mind pictured your smile once you received that necklace. The selfish being that i am, has kept that memory in my heart; selfishly locked away so that no one will steal it from me" He smiled and looked into her eyes, "and then you kept showing me so many surprising sides of you. No one challenges me to better as you do, no one wants to see me bite dust as you do. No one is interested in what i think about coffee, or what my favorite mystery novel is. You have heard my voice more time than anyone before."

"You have showed me many times that you're my only match Gwyn".

He paused, as if the words weighted on his heart as much as they weighted on hers.

"You are my best friend, the person i admire the most in the world. I admire your courage, your patience, your perseverance, your happiness. I love the way you show love to your friends. I love how much of a fierce warrior you are. And even though i made a mistake by re-gifting the necklace, i could not think of anyone that deserves to be pampered and loved as much as you"

He stopped, inhaled and touched the top of her hands.

The happiest feeling crept into her heart, her feelings were not one sided.

He saw her.

She saw him.

But his eyes did not show the happiness she expected, not did they show the same desire that burned deep in her.

They showed fear, sadness, longing.

"But with all that i have said, i know i don't deserve you. I have hurt everyone I've ever loved, i have always been so selfish. I have been looking for a bond so desperately that i was blind to what i had right in front of me..."-"I have avoided confronting my fears of being alone, of facing my nightmares and acknowledging how much of a monster i can be. When i look at you, how much you have given me; i regret every moment i have not spent loving you".

He moved his hands away from hers, looked at them and shuttered.

She realized then, unlike her, his biggest fears and insecurities were visible for everyone to see. He hated his hands, he believed them to be the proof of his monstrosity.

He did not know how wrong he was.

Finally, after what felt like eternity he said, " i am sorry Gwyn, i have not been the man you deserve; and i will forever regret that i lost you before i ever had you."

Tears falling down her cheeks, Gwyn grabbed his hands and placed them in her face. How much courage had those words taken? How much courage had even touching her taken?

"Az... you're so blind" she responded with a sob. She turned her face to his hands and placed a slight kiss inside of his hands, "these hands saved me, they are so precious... you are so precious to me"

She looked into his eyes, "i was hurt because i wanted.... i wanted you to be honest with me"

"I thought the necklace had meant that you thought of me" she smiled sadly, "for the first in my life i thought someone had chosen me, someone had thought of me first".

He looked away sadly, "i know that, and i am sorry".

She interrupted him, " I lied when i said i never wore it, i wore it every day, every hour" she laughed softly and grabbed the empty space in her neck that once held her necklace, "i even bathed with it".

He smiled. And damn if she wanted to kiss him now even more than ever.

"Once i found out it had been you who had gifted it to me, i ... finally was able to confirm my feelings towards you" Gwyn confessed. "I knew i fell in love with you the moment in the training ring when you admitted you had given the necklace to me."

Was she really saying this?

Yes

She closed her eyes and talked before her courage disappeared.

"Azriel i am in love with you" she breathed, "i fell in love with the man saw the darkness in me, and did not run away. The one that taught me to fight my nightmares way. The one that listened to me ramble about the silliest things. The one that made an effort to open his heart to me, and answered every question i asked him" she laughed. "After the first night on the training ring; i knew you would be my best friend, my confidant. Once i shared more and more nights with you, i couldn't stay away... i can't stay away from you"

Placing his hands in her chest she said, "i love you, all of you; the spy, the friend, the brother, the shadowsinger"

She didn't dare to look deeply into his eyes, afraid of what feelings laid beneath them.

"You are my center, you are my hope, my ladder to keep climbing up the pit of darkness my mind is. I will never be enough for you; for the pure and innocent heart you have. But if you give me a chance, i will treasure you for eternity". Tears scrolled down her face as she spoke, "I am not you mate, nor i am what you were looking for. But i will fight beside you every step of the way, because you more than anyone deserves happiness".

There. I said it.

She took her hands away from his, looked down and waited.... Waited for him to stand and leave, to laugh and mock her.

But he didn't.

He kneeled there, in front of her.

Shocked

Happy

.... Happy

He was happy; in fact, he seemed joyous.

A grin emerged in the male's face, bigger and brighter than she had never seen before.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled them up.

There they were, facing each other; looking deeply into each other's eyes when Azriel said: "the one that does not deserve you is me". He came closer to her, grabbed her waist and pulled her body towards his "my best friend, my love. I want you to be my entire world Gwyn".

He smiled and pulled a strand of hair behind her ear. His face coming even closer to hers, "i am not worthy of your confession, your heart, much less your body". His nose touched hers, "but give me a chance, i will treasure you until the end of times".

She smiled, nodded and closed her eyes.

Warmth filled her body as Azriel's lips closed upon hers. Soft, warm and gentle. Moving in a pace that would not startle her, he grabbed her neck to pull her even closer to him. He took his time to explore her mouth, kissing every corner. "Thank you Gwyn, for choosing me" he said, "i have found my light where i never thought looking". He kissed her nose, her forehead and her lips. "Now that i have you" he said, not leaving an inch of space between their mouths, "i will never leave you".

-------

As they kissed, something golden and long appeared in Gwyns mind, her chest seemed to swollen at the sight of it. The golden string settling in front of her and pulling her to reality.

She flinched at the same time Azriel did.

Their eyes meeting once again.

And right there, she knew...

"Mate" they said.

#gwyn acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #azriel fanfic #fanfic #acotar #post acosf #nesta archeron #nesta and gwyn #acotar fanfiction

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the-rad-pineapple · 3 years

Text

i want u

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Supernatural oneshot: After they found a way to get Cas back from the Empty, things go back to normal between Dean and Cas. Dean thinks he made up the whole love confession thing. It was exactly what he wants to hear. Plus, he’s re-written his own memories before like when he lost Cas in Purgatory all those years ago. It totally makes sense he’d make up a love confession to cope with Cas leaving him again. Dean’s suspicions are confirmed when Cas comes back and doesn’t say anything about it to Dean. And things go back to normal as if it never happened. Because it didn’t.

Words: 2.7k

I’ve been writing angsty stuff for my current WIP, but then I had an angsty day and needed something sweet. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading!

Inspired by Violent by Cummrs

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ao3

fanfiction

wattpad

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Today is one of the best days ever. Sam married Eileen. Dean cried. Multiple times. He ate too much at the reception and got a little tipsy. His best man speech rocked, though. Sam and Eileen left ages ago. They’re having their honeymoon in California. Dean can’t be happier. Everyone left a couple hours after them. The last people to leave were Jody, Claire, Kaia, and Jack.

Now Dean and Cas are sitting against the empty wall of the dirty dance floor. Music is still playing, and it echoes across the empty room, making the moment feel ethereal. Miscellaneous wedding decorations and napkins litter the floor. A lone broken high heel lays near the edge of the dance floor. Dean takes a swig of a champaign bottle and passes it to Cas. Cas doesn’t have his shoes on for some reason. He said it was easier to dance without them or something. He takes a drink from the champaign bottle. His white dress shirt is unbuttoned a few buttons on the top. His suit jacket disappeared hours ago. His hair is messy. He looks so good as a human. Cas hands the bottle back to Dean.

Dean takes it and stares at the empty floor in front of them. “This is the best day ever,” Dean decides. He takes a drink and hands the bottle back to Cas.

Cas hums. “It is one of the best I’ve ever had,” he agrees and takes a long drink.

“Mmhmm.” Dean leans his head against the wall and stares at Cas. The singular white light in the center of the ceiling casts long shadows on Cas’ face, making his face full of dark, sharp angles. It reminds Dean of the Cas he met in a barn over a decade ago. Dean lets the nostalgia wash over him as he stares at his best friend. Cas takes another drink from the champaign bottle and swallows. It’s really distracting, especially when Cas has his shirt unbuttoned like that.

After they found a way to get Cas back from the Empty, things went back to normal between them. Dean thinks he made up the whole love confession thing. It was exactly what he wants to hear. Plus, he’s re-written his own memories before like when he lost Cas in Purgatory all those years ago. It totally makes sense he’d make up a love confession to cope with Cas leaving him again. Dean’s suspicions were confirmed when Cas came back and didn’t say anything about it to Dean. And things went back to normal as if it never happened. Because it didn’t.

And Dean doesn’t really care. It hurt at first, but that was eclipsed by the ecstasy of having Cas back. He’ll take Cas in any way he can get. Angel. Human. Friend. Lover. Anything. Just as long as Cas is here and safe.

Cas hands the bottle back to Dean. Dean finishes it and sets the empty bottle down beside him. They don’t really have a reason to stay here anymore. It’s also getting late. And Dean is tired. They should go back to their hotel. Jody booked everyone a room at the hotel nearby as a wedding gift.

“I don’t want to move,” Cas says.

Dean chuckles. “Me neither.”

A comfortable silence lapses between them. The music is still playing. Dean closes his eyes.

“Dean.”

“Mmm,” Dean answers.

“I don’t want to move, but I also don’t want to sleep here.”

Dean sighs. “Yeah, yeah.” He opens his eyes and looks at Cas again. Cas is staring at him. Dean smiles. “What?”

Cas’ smile turns sad. “Nothing.” He looks away. “I suppose we should stand up now.”

“I suppose.”

Cas sighs and tugs his shoes forward. He slowly puts them on and ties them. Dean watches. Cas’ hands work carefully and precisely. Cas’ hands look soft. He finally stands up and looks down at Dean. He offers Dean a hand. Dean grabs it and stands up. Cas releases Dean’s hand, and Dean wishes he didn’t. Dean doesn’t want this moment to end. He likes being near Cas, and he knows once they get to the hotel, they’ll separate. It’s clingy as shit, but it’s how Dean feels. And he can’t do anything about that, can he?

He used to shove down those thoughts and feelings like they were something toxic. But, over time, he stopped doing that. He’s not exactly sure why. Maybe he’s just getting more comfortable with himself. Maybe he just doesn’t care enough to push them away. Maybe he’s just getting old. Maybe it’s all of those things. Dean doesn’t really know. And he doesn’t really care.

Cas smiles sadly at him again and turns away. Cas does that a lot now. Smile sad. He’s done it ever since he got back from the Empty. Dean thinks Cas misses being an angel.

Dean follows Cas down the short hallway and out into the parking lot. The Impala is the only car left. The summer air is warm and humid. The stars twinkle above them. Dean reaches into his pocket and grabs his keys, already missing today. It was so blissful and happy. Dean’s still adjusting to not feeling completely shitty all the time, let alone happy. It’s nice but also kind of weird.

They both head over to the Impala, and Dean unlocks it. They get inside. Dean turns the radio on to a low volume. The streets are practically empty, and the drive back to the hotel is relaxing. He also enjoys Cas’ presence, even if they’re both too tired to say anything. Just being around Cas makes Dean content.

They pull into the hotel parking lot and get back outside. The night air is peaceful, and Dean stands for a moment to feel it. He’s happy. Really happy. And so is Sam. They somehow did it. Part of Dean is convinced this must be a dream or something.

“Dean?”

Dean turns to look. Cas is standing in front of him, the lights from the hotel outline him. He’s so pretty. “Sorry,” Dean says. “Just don’t want this day to end, you know?”

Cas smiles. This time it isn’t sad. “Me neither.”

An idea pops into Dean’s head. “Wanna watch a movie in my room? We got the fancy tv’s here.”

Cas’ smile grows. “I would like that.”

Dean smiles back. “Awesome.”

----

Dean picks the first action movie he sees. He and Cas are sitting on his bed. Their shoulders are touching. It would take barely any effort for Dean to rest his head on Cas’ shoulder. He doesn’t.

Not even halfway through the movie, Cas starts to fall asleep. It’s selfish, but Dean doesn’t wake him up. He’ll take as many moments as he can with Cas. Besides, Dean will wake him up once the movie is over. But Dean doesn’t count on drifting off himself.

“Dean.”

Dean jerks awake, immediately on alert. He doesn’t have a gun on him, and he goes rigid.

“Dean,” Cas says again, gently.

Dean blinks and blows out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Oh, that’s right. They’re fine. They’re in a hotel. Sam got fucking married today.

Cas continues, “I think we missed the movie.”

Dean chuckles and looks over to him. “Yeah, I think so.”

Cas looks sleepy. His eyes are half open and his hair somehow got messier. His clothes are wrinkled, and he has a dazed smile on his face. He’s gorgeous.

Dean smiles. “You can stay here if you want, sleepyhead.”

Cas lifts his head up from where it was resting against the wall. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re not. You never are.”

Cas smiles at him again. But it’s one of the sad ones. “Thank you, Dean.”

“You’re welcome.” They stare at each other. The longer it gets, the more awkward it is, but Dean can’t look away. To break the silence, he says, “I can take the couch.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

They stare at each other again, but Dean is too tired to care. He closes his eyes.

A few moments pass before Cas says, “We can share the bed if you’re comfortable with that.”

Dean cracks his eyes open. “Yeah, okay.” He ignores how his heart jumps in excitement. They’re not even going to do anything, and he’s elated. Dean kicks off his shoes and automatically starts unbuckling his pants and freezes. “Is it okay if I don’t have pants on?” He glances at Cas.

Cas is already halfway under the covers. His eyes flick over Dean’s body. It’s so fast that Dean thinks he makes it up. “Yes, that’s fine,” Cas answers.

The mental image of Cas checking him out—real or not—makes Dean blush, and he quickly looks away and finishes taking his pants off. He shuts down every dirty thought he gets in the process; it’s easier than it usually is since he’s so damn tired.

Dean turns to Cas, and Cas is definitely staring at his bare legs this time. “Can I turn the light off?” Dean asks.

Cas’ eyes snap up to meet Dean’s. “Um, yes.” His cheeks turn pink.

Dean stares for a second and then realizes he’s probably making things worse by staring and quickly looks away at the lamp on his bedside table. He hits the switch and slides underneath the covers. He can feel Cas’ body heat next to him and forgets how to breathe. The temptation of having the one thing he wants most in the universe right next to him is too much. He’s tense and as close to the edge of the bed as he can be without falling off. Dean is wide awake now. He doubts he’ll get a wink of sleep.

Cas shifts beside him, and Dean nearly jumps out of his skin. Thankfully, Cas doesn’t seem to notice. Cas’ breathing evens out. Dean closes his eyes and focuses on the sound. He wants this so fucking bad it hurts. He squeezes his eyes shut harder when he feels the pin-prickle of tears forming. He won’t cry. Not on a good day like today. He spent way too many nights drinking and crying himself to sleep when he thought Cas was dead forever. He won’t do that when he has Cas literally right next to him. Dean swallows down the lump forming in his throat. As sleep tugs at his mind and consciousness begins to fade, he can’t help but think, I love you. I love you so fucking much. I think it’s killing me.

----

Dean wakes up, and he can’t remember where he is. He knows it isn’t the bunker. He feels a body next to him. He’s not even fully awake, and he can’t bring himself to remember who he’s in bed with. Damn. It’s been a while since he’s had a one-night stand. Loneliness stabs him in the chest, and he shifts towards the warmth of the person beside him. He reaches on arm out, and touches their back. He snakes a hand around their waist and pulls himself against them. Dean feels them begin to stir.

“Shh, go to sleep,” he murmurs.

That seems satisfactory, and they relax. They interlace their fingers with the hand Dean has draped over their waist. Dean pulls them closer. He’s so fucking needy and lonely. He wishes he was holding Cas. He pretends he is.

----

Dean’s pillow feels weird. It’s lumpy but soft. It’s very warm. It also smells like Cas. Which is also weird. Why does his pillow smell like Cas? Cas is dead. But, no. No. Cas is alive. He has been for months now. Dean just forgets when he wakes up sometimes.

Dean keeps his eyes closed as he rests. Any second he’s not fully awake is a good one. Dean then realizes his pillow has a heartbeat. Dean’s pillow might not be a pillow. He’s lying on someone. Someone who smells like Cas.

Dean’s heartrate spikes, and he jerks his head up.

Cas blinks up at him. “Are you alright?” Cas asks, his voice deep with sleep. Well, deeper than usual.

“Yes,” Dean says. “I just forgot you’re alive.”

Cas blinks again. “Oh.” He reaches up with one hand and cups Dean’s face. “Well, I’m alive.”

Dean smiles. “Yeah, I noticed.”

Cas smiles back. It’s the brightest smile Dean’s seen on him since he’s been back. But then it turns sad. Like it always does. Cas starts to pull his hand away, but Dean quickly grabs it. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing; he’s still not even fully awake. Dean closes his eyes and leans further into Cas’ touch, keeping his hand on Cas’. He doesn’t want Cas to move away.

Cas’ breath hitches. “Dean,” he begins.

And Dean can tell by Cas’ tone that he is going to tell Dean to let go or something. Dean doesn’t want that. “Shh,” Dean says.

“Dean,” Cas says more firmly and tugs on his hand. Dean doesn’t let go. “Don’t do this.”

Dean opens his eyes. Cas’ smile is gone, and all the sadness has moved to his eyes. “Do what?” Dean asks.

“I know you’re doing this just because of what I told you before the Empty took me.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t feel obligated to…to sleep in the same bed as me or hold my hand like this just because I love you.”

“What?”

The hurt in Cas’ eyes throws Dean off so much that Cas manages to snatch his hand back.

Dean stares. Then swallows. “I thought I made that up,” Dean whispers.

“Made what up?”

“That you—that you…” Dean swallows again. Why is his mouth so dry? “That you lo—” His voice cracks. He furiously blinks back tears. “You said that, right?”

“You don’t remember?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I do, I just…I thought I made that up. Because I—I want…” He licks his lips. “I want you.”

Cas stares at him with wide eyes.

Dean’s blood runs cold. “Wait, am I completely misinterpreting this, oh my god, Cas, I’m so sor—”

“You want me?” Cas is still staring. His eyes still wide with disbelief.

Dean’s already gone this far. There’s no turning back now. Might as well tell Cas everything. “You’re all I ever wanted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Absolutely not!” Dean is just as surprised at his outburst as Cas is. He takes a deep breath before continuing, much calmer this time, “Cas, I have a hard time saying, ‘I love you’ to Sam. Why would I ever say that to you unless I completely mean it?”

“You didn’t say, ‘I love you,’” Cas tells him. “You said, ‘I want you.’ There’s a difference.”

That stubborn motherfucker. But Dean can be stubborn right back. This will show him! “Well, I love you. So there,” Dean states, staring at Cas to challenge him on that.

“Oh…” Cas’ gaze becomes distant.

“Yeah, not so fun being on the receiving end of a love confession, is it?”

Cas is unresponsive.

Uh, oh. Dean cups his face with one of his hands. “Cas, buddy, look at me.”

Cas’ eyes finally focus on Dean. “Y-yes?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Yes,” Cas repeats.

Dean leans in and gently presses his lips against Cas’. There’s a moment where neither of them move, as if what they’re doing isn’t real, but then Cas’ mouth opens up under Dean’s, and Dean moves in closer. He still has one hand on Cas’ face and moves it back to tangle in his hair. Dean allows himself to get lost in the kiss. It’s slow and gentle and even better than anything he dreamed a kiss could ever be. It’s all Cas, Cas, and more Cas, and Dean’s heart is soaring. He pulls back just far enough to whisper, “I love you so much.” before kissing Cas again, a little more desperately this time.

Dean isn’t quite sure how long they do this; kiss each other stupid with their bodies pressed into each other, but he treasures every second of it.

This day is somehow even better than yesterday. And, who knows? Tomorrow might even be better than today. But one thing Dean knows for sure is that they have all the time in the world, and he’s not going to waste a single minute.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #fix-it fic #post-canon #angst #pining #first kiss #sharing a bed #happy ending #writing #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #wattpad

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fallingforyou123 · 3 years

Text

Cinnamon and Roses- A Cupcakes and Therapy moment

Summary: A soft night in the bakery, fresh flowers and cinnamon sugar.

A/N: Here's the next bit of Cupcakes and Therapy, a late night date and some deep conversations. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1707

Warnings: Angsty sadness

Part 1

Masterpost

The day had felt like it would never end. The bakery had been busy this morning, a rush of people almost selling out the fresh pastries you’d spent last night baking. The afternoon had brought an unbearable heat that was only made worse by the warmth of the oven. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of seeing Bucky after you had closed the shop for the night.

You’d scoured your recipes trying to find something you’d think he’d like. You knew he liked the simple things, so you’d found a cinnamon bun recipe that you hoped he’d enjoy. You’d closed the shop a few minutes ago and were now preparing the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. You walked out from the back and saw Bucky standing on the other side of the glass, a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hands.

You open the door and let him in, accepting the flowers that he hands to you, “Bucky! These are beautiful, thank you.”

You reach up to place a kiss on his cheek, and suddenly he’s blushing like a teenager and you’re giggling at him. Bucky follows you into the back and watches as you place the flowers in a vase, “It’s rude to stare, ya know.”

Bucky chuckles at that. “Not starring, just admiring the view.”

You busy yourself with grabbing the last few things you need for the cinnamon rolls, willing the blush on your cheeks to go away. You turn around to face Bucky, handing him an apron, “Here, put this on. We’re making cinnamon rolls, you’re gonna get messy.”

He takes the apron from you and ties it around himself while you start explaining the first few steps. You begin preparing the dough mixture while instructing Bucky on how to do the yeast. You move in a sort of synchronized dance, the both of you falling into a comfortable rhythm, the only sounds being you uttering the next step of the recipe.

When it comes time to let the dough rise, you invite Bucky back into the front and bring out two bottles of beer. “When did you open the bakery?” His voice is a smooth break in the silence.

“When I was 20. I’d decided university wasn’t for me, dropped out after the first semester and ended up travelling for about a year. I ended up in this little town on the border of Spain and France. There was this bakery I’d go to every morning, run by a pair of older ladies, the spunkiest women I’d ever met, Emile and Lucía. After about the third or fourth day, they stopped me and asked in broken English, why I was always alone. I ended up spending the day with them telling them everything I could, a conversation of broken words. At the end of the night they offered me a job, said we could teach each other languages and I could learn to bake.”

You took a moment then, to catch your breath, to ease away the pain of the memories. Bucky hesitantly grabbed your hand, running his thumb along the back of it. With a shaky breath, you continued. “I spent months there, learning every recipe I know. Then one day when I came in, Emile was sitting at one of the tables, and she looked at me. I knew something was wrong but couldn’t bring myself to think about how bad it could be. She told me that Lucía was gone, she had went to bed the night before and never woken up. Suddenly the dream I had been living for almost a year had turned into a nightmare. Emile couldn’t bear to run the bakery anymore and my visa was about to expire, so I helped her sell it. We had a small funeral, Lucía had no family, so it was just us. After that I came back here, took some courses and bought this place.”

You wiped a few stray tears from your cheeks and looked at Bucky. He’d been watching you with a soft gaze, lost in your story. “They meant a lot to you, I can tell. They were your second family.”

You scoff at this, “More like my only family. After I left university, my parents cut me off. Haven’t spoken to my sister since highschool. She moved across the country with her football scholarship boyfriend after graduating, I think she’s got a little boy now. Emile and Lucía were all I had.”

“I know what it’s like to lose everyone. My family’s long gone, blood or not.”

The two of you share a moment, realizing that you might be more alike than you thought. Hands still intertwined, looking into each other's eyes softly, a domestic moment. You lean in slightly, a breathes space between the two of you. Fluttering eyes and a warm hand against your cheek. A sudden ringing, a reminder of where you are and a moment gone.

You pull away from Bucky and motion for him to follow you back into the kitchen. You fall back into a peaceful silence, Bucky rolling out the dough the way you instruct as you make the filling. The two of you laugh as he spills some of the filling on himself, a small comment about the apron slipping out of your mouth, a pinch of flour being thrown at you in return.

Before you know it, the pastries are in the oven and you’re sitting back at the table. The sun has set and the moon is bright in the sky. You watch the last few people in the streets as they head home for the night, the city turning over to the hands of those seeking a drink.

This time, it’s your voice that breaks the silence. “Tell me about your family.”

Bucky looks at you, hesitancy written all over his face. The life he lived not one he shared often. He begins slowly, leaving out the terrible details, “My parents died when I was young. My mother to a sickness that took her in a week, and my father to a war. I had a sister, Rebecca, she went off to boarding school after our parents died and I didn’t see much of her. Met my best friend during school, the two of us enlisted in the army when we were young. He went in as this scrawny little kid, came out someone I ended up looking up to, literally.” A small chuckle escapes him at the memories, “After the war I spent a lot of time hating myself for the things I’d done, the people I’d hurt. Ended up finding peace for a little while, before the blip. After that, I lost everyone. No one came back the same, and now I’m here, just me and my cat.”

You look at him for a moment, the two of you basking in a soft understanding. Yesterday, you were strangers, but today you’re something more. An ache begins to form in Bucky’s chest again. He doesn’t fully understand what this is, but as he follows you to the kitchen, he’s lost in a dream of what life could be. He’s known you for 24 hours, but he already knows that you’re meant to stay, in whatever way you want.

You catch him staring at you again as you’re pulling the cinnamon buns from the oven. You think to comment on it, but decide against it, finding it endearing. “Grab me the icing please. It’s better to put it on while it’s hot so that it can soak in.”

Bucky grabs the bowl and hands it to you, your fingers brushing for a second, the ache in his chest growing stronger. You drizzle the icing over the buns carefully, almost like it’s an art form in of itself. When you’re done, you take them out of the pan, placing them gently in one of the glass containers, keeping two out on plates. “We’ll eat these two now, and the rest you can take home.”

You hand him one of the plates, taking the other for yourself, and lean against the counter. The lighting is dim and the room has grown warm from the oven, a feeling of peace falling over the pair of you. You watch as Bucky takes his first bite, a smile coming to his face, “Reminds me of the ones my Ma used to make.” Memories float behind his eyes at the thought, and you’re happy that you can allow him this peace.

Bucky’s beside you now, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. You sit in this moment for as long as you can, enjoying the domesticality of it, something you haven’t felt in years. A small yawn escapes you, the long hours of the day finally catching up on you. Bucky looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips, “Seems like I’m keeping you up past your bedtime.”

You glance at the clock, noticing the late hour, “I’m an old lady at heart, I’m in bed by 9:30 most nights.”

Bucky chuckles lightly at this, moving to start cleaning up. He begins washing the few dishes that won’t fit in the dishwasher while you finish wrapping up the pastries. It only takes a few minutes, and soon you’re both standing at the front door, wrapping your coats around yourselves. “Can I walk you home?”

You give him a small nod, exhaustion keeping you from doing much else. You walk in silence, Bucky’s arm rubbing against yours every few steps, hands slowly inching their way towards each other, but never fully intertwining. Your apartments only a few blocks away, and before you know it you’re standing on the steps saying your goodbyes.

“I had a nice time tonight, thank you for this.”

You smile at Bucky and reach to kiss him on the cheek, “Anytime. Don’t be a stranger, call me, or stop in and say hi.”

With a small wave, you head into the building and make your way to your apartment. Bucky waits until you’re fully inside before turning and heading to his own building. A soft smile playing on his lips as he disappears down the street.

#bucky barnes #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #marvel #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fluff #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws

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billiedeanhwrd · 3 years

Text

when i fell you were there, with your hands in the air

cordelia goode x fem!reader

summary: your depression is hitting you harder than most days, cordelia comforts you 🤍

warnings: depression, slight mention of childhood trauma, it's angsty mental health fluff basically

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this is my first ever fanfic and i'm very very nervous about it, so pls don't be too harsh, constructive criticism is very much welcome though!! also i'm sorry about any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language. i also have to add that this was very much self indulgent and based on my own experience with depression, so if you don't relate, that's fine, everyone experiences it differently. I hope you enjoy it tho, have fun reading <3

today was one of those days again. one of those days where everything seemed grey and pointless. one of those days where taking a shower was too exhausting. one of those days where it didn't matter if you left your clothes on the floor or a pile of dirty dishes in the sink. one of those days where you isolated yourself. one of those days that seemed to return to you every morning for almost 3 weeks now.

you had been struggling with depression for years now and attending therapy regularly still didn't take away from the embarrassment you felt about your illness. cordelia didn't know, you didn't want to burden her with your subjectively "silly" problems. It wasn't easy hiding something so life consuming from your lover, but whenever you were with her you felt as though you could reach for the stars and there was no point in ruining happy moments with sad stories.

Whenever you felt really depressed and unable to function, you isolated yourself. Cordelia and you had been together for 7 months now and the first time she thought she had done something wrong which had resulted in you needing space from her, but when she confronted you, you reassured her that sometimes you needed some time to yourself because you were a more introverted person. While that might be true, you wanted nothing more than for her to take you into her arms and tell you everything was going to be okay again, but the fear of possibly burdening the already very busy supreme held you back from confessing what was weighing you down.

you were used to this already, you always kept your darkness to yourself, too afraid of being too much or being abandoned by your loved ones, while the rational side of you knew that the people in your life who truly meant something to you would never abandon you because of your chronic depression, anxiety left no room for rationality.

you were always feeling kind of down, but some days it was easier to cope and enjoy your day despite that... and then there were those phases where you felt unusually down, those phases that caused you to isolate yourself and wait for the storm to pass in solitude. They usually lasted only a few days or maximum a week, but this one had been going on for much longer. cordelia was worried, you had never needed so much "alone time to recharge your social battery", but she didn't want to overstep your boundaries and possibly push you away, because what you weren't aware of was that cordelia too struggled with abandonment issues and fearing she would be "too much" (which she could never be for you, you adored every single second you could spend in the blonde witch's presence).

After leaving multiple text messages and trying to call you, only to be greeted by your voicemail, cordelia took it upon herself to see what was going on with you. The knocking on your door would've usually startled you, but you had just ordered a pizza, too tired to prepare a meal yourself and assumed the delivery was faster than they had stated on their website. your jaw fell open and the door was quickly closed again, shit shit shit, what am i supposed to do now? the place looks like a mess, i can't let cordelia se-

"y/n can you open the door please?" she asked in her gentle voice. "Uh, yeah, give me a second" you replied, hastily throwing on a hoodie that had been lying around on your couch, coincidentally that hoodie being one you stole from cordelia a few weeks ago, something that made your girlfriend's heart warm up a little and relieve her of some of the worried thoughts she had that this might be your way of signaling to her that you no longer wished to be in a relationship with her.

"can we talk? i haven't seen you in three weeks and you haven't answered any of my texts... what's going on? you know you can talk to me about anything..."

"uhm, yes, of course. sit down, make yourself at home, would you like anything to drink?"

"no, thank you, i just want to talk to you"

you didn't have the energy to lie to the woman who held your heart in her hands anymore, you were terrified of her reaction, not only to you being mentally ill but also to you hiding it for so long.

"i'm so sorry delia, please don't be mad", you anxiously stuttered out. cordelia grabbed your hand and smiled reassuringly, signaling for you to continue talking.

"I didn't tell you before because i know you've already got so much going on with the academy and i didn't want to pile onto that with my irrelevant issues... I was diagnosed with depression amongst other things a few years ago, it's something i have to deal with every day and some days are easier than others, but sometimes it all comes crashing down on me and i feel like i'm lost in an ocean of a sadness so powerful, i can feel the pain on my body. I know it can be challenging to be close to someone with severe mental issues and I understand if you don't want to continue being with me, i would never want you to stay with me because you pity me or because you're afraid i'd do something to myself if you'd left, you're not responsible for my feelings or actions and i would never want to impose you with such a burden and-"

you stopped rambling when you noticed the tears flowing down cordelia's cheeks.

your eyes widened and your heart started pounding rapidly in your chest. "i'm sorry, was that too much?"

"no, no, no, no, no... it just pains me to know that you've been dealing with this on your own for such a long time because you don't value yourself enough to believe that other people might want to support you through your everyday battles. y/n, i know you, you're the girl who's always there when someone else needs a shoulder to cry on, anytime, anyplace, you always go out of your way to make others feel seen and accepted, why would you ever think that you don't deserve the kindness you so openly give to others?"

now it was you who was crying, cordelia was right, you didn't value yourself enough to believe that. you didn't actively think of yourself as less than others but that thought always unconsciously motivated the way you dealt with the things that were bothering you.

cordelia patted her lap, signaling for you to sit on her lap and come into her arms. you hesitated though, you weren't used to being so vulnerable and open with your emotions and it scared the shit out of you. you feared cordelia was possibly annoyed at you and was only doing this to get it over with and then get out. she watched you, while you were anxiously deciding what your next move would be, her heart broke for you, you looked like a scared baby dear when all she wanted to do was to comfort you.

"baby, look at me"

her chocolate colored eyes were so full of love, simply looking into them managed to get your heart rate down.

"it's okay, i'm not mad at you for talking about your feelings and all i want to do right now is to hug some of your pain away, so please, let me hold you"

you melted at her gentle words and understanding nature, cordelia was an incredibly smart woman, who went through traumatic things herself and even from that little information you shared, she understood you. she saw her younger self in you, so incredibly lonely but oh, so scared of being vulnerable with another person, due to the emotional abuse her mother subjected her to, and while she might not have gone through the same things you did, she felt like she understood your feelings in this exact moment and she wanted nothing more than to make you feel safe with her.

you slowly crawled into her lap, still afraid this was all a trick to hurt you, but when she started combing through your hair and reassuringly whispering "i've got you" and "you're here with me, i promise you, you're safe", you relaxed into her arms.

after about half an hour of laying there with each other, calming down and enjoying the other one's warmth, you spoke up.

"delia?"

"yes, my love?"

"so you're not leaving me?", you hesitantly asked.

cordelia sat up and looked straight in your eyes while asking "would you leave someone you love because they're depressed?"

"no, never"

"then tell me, sweetheart, why would i leave you?"

her response left you speechless, you almost missed her confessing her love. "you love me?"

she hugged you tight and pressed a kiss on your forehead. "more than anything, and please, never worry about telling me about what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, no matter what it is, i wanna know, okay?"

you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding and confidently replied "okay"

a few minutes passed before you spoke up again when you remembered you didn't say those 3 special words back.

"i love you too, by the way"

cordelia smiled lovingly and stood up to reach out for your hand and pull you up. "i know, now let's go to bed, we can clean up this place tomorrow"

you accepted her helping hand and engulfed her in a hug. the way she so naturally used the word "we" and didn't seem to mind helping you clean up your mess of an apartment made you more emotional than you'd like to admit.

And while you knew this would not be the last time you were overwhelmed by your depression, you now knew that you could count on the woman who loved you to stand by your side and help you get through even your hardest day.

#cordelia goode x reader #cordelia goode #cordelia foxx #cordelia x reader #cordelia foxx x reader #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #tw depression #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #american horror story #ahs fanfiction #ahs fandom #ahsfx #ahs imagine #cordelia goode imagine #fanfiction

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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: A Mess

Poly! Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,497

Warnings: Slightly angsty

Summary: Reader has been struggling with magic and feels miserable. Caleb and Pogue try their best to be loving and supportive. Requested by / in collaboration with @dhampiravidi

Caleb trudged inside the apartment, the beginnings of a headache building behind his eyes. Taking his gray coat off, he followed the smell of spices into the kitchen. Chili, if Caleb had to guess.

Pogue must’ve had dinner duty for the night. He made the best chili out of the three of them so they only ever ate it if he was the one making it. Sure enough, he was standing in front of the counter, his hair pulled back into a half ponytail, adjusting a setting on the slower cooker that was plugged into the wall.

“Chili?” Caleb asked, rubbing his forehead in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure.

“Chili,” Pogue confirmed. He turned towards Caleb, frowning when he saw Caleb massaging small circles above his eyes. “Another headache?”

Caleb sighed, lowering his hand. “Just a little one. They assigned me to that new case on Tuesday and I’ve been pouring over old court dockets ever since.”

Pogue didn’t say anything but he didn’t have to—the worry was clear on his face. Caleb was quick to smile and reassure him. “It’s like I said, just a small headache. No need to blow it out of proportion, Po.”

The longhaired boy wasn’t the least bit convinced, but didn’t push the lawyer further. Caleb was great at looking after people, but not so much when it came to himself. And if Pogue called him out on it, he would only draw further into himself. The key was to not bring it up and tread subtlety.

“Okay, man. Whatever you say.” He sat down at the table, but not before sliding a bottle of aspirin over to Caleb who accepted it with a quiet thanks.

They quickly updated each other on their days. One of firm clerks was inviting everyone out for drinks next week: Caleb had said he’d get back to them after checking with the significant others. A real nice ’68 Chevy Nova had been brought into the garage for restoration: Pogue was excited to pop the hood and get to work. But it wasn’t long until Caleb noticed who was absent from the table.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s never been able to resist the smell of chili.”

“Rough day. She was crying when I got home and she’s been shut in the bedroom since then.”

“Crying? Why was she—” He cut off immediately. He knew, they both knew. You weren’t really a crier. In all of the time the three of you had been together, there was only one thing they had ever known you to cry about. “She tried Using again today.”

Pogue nodded, a severe frown on his face. He looked down the hall at the shut door, no sounds or light coming from the other side of it. “Looked like it to me. The spell book was already put away when I walked in, but she left the candles out.”

Caleb released a long breath and stared unseeing at the ceiling. How could he fix this?

Magic was a touchy subject. All three of you were witches and even if he and Pogue weren’t regularly Using, they didn’t impose their rules on you. After all, your coven had struck a different deal to gain their magic so they didn’t have to worry about you sacrificing pieces of your life whenever you tried to use it. But that didn’t mean they didn’t worry about you.

Using was…hit or miss with you. You had no problem performing large, high-powered magic. You had no problem blowing thing up or putting an entire bar full of people under a spell. But as time went on, it became apparent that you did not have the same ease when it came to more precise magic. And your struggles weren’t from lack of dedication or practice (you gave even Caleb a run for his money when it came to studying.)

The guys were incredibly supportive of your continued magic studies, but recently your mood had shifted and not for the better. After putting in so much time and effort, and still not having much to show for it, Using was starting to bring some emotional baggage to the surface. Seeing as how you’d been upset in the room for hours, they thought you were close to some kind of break.

Caleb tapped the table with his knuckles. “I’m going to check on Y/N and see if I can get them to talk to me.” He scraped his chair back and moved down the hall. He didn’t wait for Pogue’s reaction. He couldn’t. When someone he loved was struggling his immediate response was to talk with them and find a solution to the problem.

He didn’t bother knocking on the door—he knew that you wouldn’t answer anyway and that you had likely locked the door with no intention of opening it. Eyes went black briefly as he Used magic to override the lock. Normally, his rule was to only employ magic in times of emergency, but this definitely qualified as an emergency.

“Hi Y/N,” he said quietly, closing the door behind him. You were on your spot curled in the middle of the bed, body hidden under the comforter. “How was your day?” Your silence didn’t phase him as he joined you on the bed, wrapping his arms around you. “I heard you were practicing today, that’s great. I’ve always loved your drive.”

Still, nothing but silence from you.

He sighed and pulled the covers down so he could at least see your face. Your eyes were red and puffy but the crying was paused for the moment, your whole face lax as you stared through him rather than at him.

“Hey, now,” he whispered pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. “Come on, I want to hear about it.”

You pushed him away and he was relieved to see some reaction from reaction, even if it was annoyance.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Caleb,” you stressed turning away from him. He tried to bring you back into his arms but backed off when he felt you stiffen up.

“It can’t be that bad.” More silence. “Just tell me. Please.”

The strong emotions that you had been trying so hard to hide exploded out of you and you were so upset that it wasn’t until after you finished that you realized how aggressive it sounded. “You want to know? Fine! It was a telekinesis spell. A simple freaking telekinesis spell. All I wanted to do was lift the frame that had our anniversary photo in it and guess what! And I ended up smashing it to pieces instead! There was glass everywhere and the photo is ruined, happy?”

You felt tears swimming in your eyes, whether from anger or sadness you didn’t know, and you ran with a huff to lock yourself in the bathroom. No matter what kind of tears they were, you refused to cry in front of Caleb. That would only make him more overbearing than he was currently.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered as the tears started to flow. “All this time and you still mess up a basic spell. How can you call yourself a girlfriend to two Sons of Ipswich if you can’t even get that right?”

Caleb remained on the bed, looking at the bathroom door in grief. He had meant to help you and it seemed that he only made things worse. Sighing in frustration at himself he put himself back together and went back to Pogue who was still tending to dinner. There had to be something he could do, he just wasn’t sure what that something was.

“Well,” Pogue prompted, “How did it go?”

“Disastrous,” Caleb admitted. “I just ended up making Y/N even more upset and now they’re locked in the bathroom.”

“Hmm, that’s rough man.” A timer on the counter beeped, signaling that the chili was officially done cooking. Pogue took some ceramic bowls from the cabinet. “For both of you. Try not to get worked up about—Y/N will come around when they’re ready.”

“I am not worked up,” Caleb insisted. Pogue merely raised a brow and slid a full bowl to him. “Okay, maybe I’m a little worked up.”

“I knew it,” he smirked, pushing his long hair out of his face. “You can’t help it; it’s just who you are, man. But in this case, I’m telling you that you have to be patient.”

He sat down and took a bite from his own bowl, saw the worried look on the other man’s face. “I’m telling you. I learned this the hard way back in high school. Sometimes space is the best approach,” he said with a mouth full of food.

“If you’re sure…”

The two of them kept good on their unspoken promise and didn’t ask you about the incident again. You all still shared the same bed but even there they made sure to keep their hands to themselves, which you were grateful for. You didn’t feel the need for sex given your mental state. Just knowing that they were on either side of you was enough.

A part of you felt terrible for shutting them out, but an even bigger part of you couldn’t get over the hurt. Rationally, you knew that breaking the frame wasn’t that big of a deal. The guys would definitely fix it for you if you asked. Emotionally, however, you were a wreck. Productivity was at zero for the week. During the day you felt void, your brain numb. The night was worse, racing thoughts you couldn’t control as the continuous rewind of the incident playing on loop, preventing you from getting decent sleep.

Life was a mess. You were a mess. But there wasn’t much you felt like you could do about it; you were just hoping that you’d sort yourself out soon.

It was difficult for them for watching you going through it, especially for Caleb. He kept his word and didn’t question you like he had the first night but he hovering, struggling to master the need to make it better for you. Needless to say, he fed you breakfast in bed everyday that week.

Pogue was just as concerned. He never outright confronted you about it, that just wasn’t his style, but he did the dishes every day without complaint. He fidgeted more, even by Pogue standards. And unbeknownst to you, he was playing his guitar, something that normally happened when he was trying to sort something big out.

Somehow, he managed to hide it from you but he wasn’t so lucky with Caleb.

He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “How long have you been playing this one? I like it.”

“This week,” Pogue shrugged trying to downplay it. “The cords were easy to throw together.”

Caleb hummed and went to sit in front of the other man. Pogue started playing the tune again and Caleb found himself humming along after a few minutes. He wore a contemplative look. “Does it have lyrics?”

Pogue shook his head side to side, tossing his hair. “Nope. You know I’m not a good poet.”

Caleb nodded again, the same thoughtful expression on his face. “What if I wrote them?”

***

At the end of the week, you were slightly more recovered. The failure and unconference were still there but Pogue had convinced you to shower with him earlier in the day. It was nice to have clean hair and soft skin again. And you even managed to clear out your emails which always felt like an accomplishment.

“Hey, do you guys want to order takeout for dinner?” You walked out to the living room looking for your boyfriends. You were getting hungry and in the mood to socialize a bit more. For a second, you thought they were both out until you saw them out on the small porch. “Hello?”

They turned around with smiles on their faces and bid you to join them. It was a mild spring day and the setting sun left just enough heat to still be comfortable while sitting outside.

“Are you feeling okay?” Caleb asked, excitement just beneath the surface.

“A little better,” you answered eying the acoustic guitar in Pogue’s hands. Takeout cartons were arranged around the small glass table. “So…what’s all this?”

Pogue cleared his throat. “We wrote a song.”

“You…wrote a song?”

“A song for you,” Caleb further explained. “We’ve been working on it for you these past couple of days. Do you want to listen to it?”

“Y-yeah,” you said startled. This had not been what you were expecting when you came outside.

Pogue started strumming immediately, having already tuned beforehand. The pace was slower but purposeful, his fingers moving gracefully over the fretboard. Your heart fluttered, the notes sounding beautiful. Then Caleb started to sing. He was a graceful as ever, his voice blending in perfectly with Pogue’s guitar playing.

You were positively flushing. As romantic as the two of them were, they had never serenaded you before. In fact, no one had ever serenaded you. You were flattered. Giddy. Dazed.

The words touched your heart. The whole thing was so intimate, especially since they wrote it for you. They were pouring out the love they felt for you, the sadness that came with seeing you struggle. Unlaying the song was the assurance that things would get better.

At some point, you’re not sure when, tears started to blur your vision. The song had barely ended before you threw yourself at them, hugging with all your might. The hugs were returned and you felt a kiss on the top of your head—Pogue. Caleb wiped away a stray tear that had escaped with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured softly.

“Yeah, sorry baby,” Pogue seconded. Everyone was silent for a moment when he cracked a joke. “You should’ve told me that my playing was bad, I would’ve stopped sooner.”

You slapped his chest with no real force behind it. “Shut up. I loved it. These are tears of happiness.”

“That’s a relief. We’ve been worried about you, you know.”

You relaxed into their grasp, the oranges and pinks in the dusk sky further calming you. “I know. I tried to shake it off and be rational about it but I couldn’t. I’ve been…struggling.”

“We know. It’s alright. We’re here for you through the good times and the bad,” he promised.

“I j-just feel like a failure and I don’t want you to be embarrassed of me because I—”

“Stop it. We could never, never be embarrassed of you. You’re strong and kind and smart; what’s not to love?”

“Face facts, baby, you’re stuck with us for as long as you’ll have us.”

More tears gathered. “I love you two goofs.”

“I love you, too,” they said simultaneously, leaning in on either side to press a kiss to your cheek.

_______________

First poly fic I’ve written/published. Thanks so much for reading! And thanks to Jayn for the idea! 😊 If you want more Caleb content, here’s a recent fic of mine. Check it out! If you want more poly content, let me know that too.

#the covenant #caleb danvers #pogue parry #sons of ipswich #fanfic #caleb danvers x reader #pogue parry x reader

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