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t-lostinworlds · 3 years

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My Best Girl (Tom Holland)

a/n: this was supposed to be short and sweet yet here we are asdfghjkl i mean it’s still short but 2k isn’t necessarily a blurb ahah. this was written fairly quick but i hope you guys still enjoy it!

pairing: tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: slight angst & fluff summary: You hear people gossip in the bathroom about how Tom looks so good and how you basically don’t reach his level. warnings: not proofread, tom being a wholesome boyfriend, slightly steamy ending word count: 2.3k+ requested:

prompts: ~ “Talk to me.” ~ “You deserve so much better.”

masterlist in bio & pinned post

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Galas or fancy parties have never been your thing, especially when they're littered with too many celebrities. Some of them are nice of course, sweet and kind, but some are a bit much, stuck in their own little bubble of fame. It was just the constant thing of one upping each other, who has the most expensive dress, which island did they visit just recently, whose yacht were they invited to, and so on.

It was not your crowd, at all. Yet here you were in a floor-length, black sleeveless dress, a V-neckline to match the low back and a high slit to show off your leg and your silver heels. The fabric was hugging you in all the right places while a strong arm was wrapped around your waist, warm fingers sometimes grazing the skin on the small of your back as you smile at this well-known producer who your boyfriend just introduced you to.

Your boyfriend who happens to be world renowned actor, Tom Holland.

"I need to use the bathroom," you whispered into Tom's ear, the lad cutting his conversation off briefly to meet your gaze, a charming smile on his lips and a loving glow in his eyes.

"Okay. I'll be right here," he hummed, giving your cheek a sweet kiss and your waist a gentle squeeze before he lets you go.

After asking around the staff for a minute you've finally reached the bathroom. You pushed the door open to find it completely empty which was a relief. You just didn't want to deal with any more gossiping or encounter any more "high class" people. You went inside one of the stalls and locked the door shut. Although, you didn't get a chance to even do your business when you heard three pairs of heels click against the tiled floor. You wouldn't have entertained it until they started to exchange words about a certain man.

"Have you seen how good Tom Holland looked?" one of them said, a sense of pride coursing through you because your man does look so good tonight, that until the same girl spoke again. "Do you think I could snatch him up for tonight?"

"Well he's got his girlfriend attached to his hip so your chances are close to none," a second voice spoke.

"That was his girlfriend?" the first one gasped exaggeratedly.

"No way, I thought it was his PA," a third girl said with a laugh.

"What a shame, he deserves someone who can actually match him," the first girl sighed.

"Someone who at least could afford a proper designer dress," the third one said.

All three of them laughed at that.

"I bet I could still get his number despite the girlfriend. I could just get him alone," the first one hummed, giggling to herself as if it was the best things she's said in her life.

Finally having enough, you fixed up your dress, took a deep breath to calm yourself before opening the stall door and walking out with your chin up. All three sets of eyes followed you as they immediately quieted down. Only brave behind the back, always cowards face to face.

You shot them each a wide smile through the mirror as you turned the faucet on to wash your hands. The three of them tried to return it but their lips only twitched as they stared at you in shock.

"With all the classy make-up and elegant dresses you'd think it would at least taint your personalities no? Be ladies with a bit of class and elegance but huh," you paused, rinsing off the soap and then turning the water off before grabbing some paper towels to dry of your hands. "What a shame," you tutted with a shake of your head, shooting them a sympathetic smile through the mirror. None of them spoke a single word as you threw away the paper towel and started towards the door with your head held high.

Before you grabbed the door handle, you turned back to them with a tight lip smile. "Oh, and this dress is worth more than all of you combined with how cheap your personalities are." You pulled the door open, though stopped midway through the doorway to look at them over your shoulder. "Words of advice, try and go for the single men, ladies, and maybe you'll get lucky. Although not guaranteed if you're a bit...desperate. Have a great night. I know I will, especially later with my man," you said with a smirk, throwing them a wink at the end of your sentence to properly get the point across.

But the moment you stepped out of the bathroom you felt your knees weaken, breathing turning heavy, tears burning in your orbs as you tried your best to keep them at bay until you were out from prying eyes. The words they've said have always been sitting in the back of your head, how Tom could leave you so quickly for someone who was up to his level. Someone more gorgeous, someone with a high status, someone who could actually match him in terms of looks and just overall fame. And hearing those words be said out loud, to hear them from actual strangers, it only makes them more real, the insecurities that's always been nagging in your brain. It only makes them more painful.

You rushed back out into the ballroom, holding your composure as best as you could. Tom was still in his place as promised, talking to the same person he did just minutes ago before you went and excused yourself.

"Tom," you croaked out when you got to him, not meaning your voice to sound weak the way it did. But it was already too late for you to try again when your boyfriend's eyes immediately snapped to look at you. Tom knows you like the back of his hand, one change in the tone of your voice and he immediately will notice that something was up.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked as he turned to face you fully, his hand coming up to cup your cheek so you had no choice but to look at him in the eyes. Tom's worry only grew some more when he saw your orbs glossed up with tears, features coated by nothing but utter panic.

"I'm going to go ahead and get back to the hotel room," you whispered. "You can stay—"

"No, if you want to go, then we're going now," he said firmly.

"But—"

Tom didn't give you any time to finish your sentence when he turned back to the producer he was talking to. "I'm so sorry but we need to get going. It was nice meeting you sir. I'll have my agent send you the details. Thank you so much," Tom said, offering his hand out to which the man shook with a smile, not at all minding that their conversation got cut short.

And with that, Tom took your hand in his and swiftly but gently guided you out of the ballroom.

"You didn't have to leave with me," you muttered as you both made your way back to the elevators, thankful that your hotel room was in the same building.

"No, but I wanted to. The night was getting long anyway," Tom reassured with a squeeze of your hand.

You stayed silent on the way up and even after you're inside the room. Tom's frown could only deepen when you sat at the edge of the bed with a shaky breath.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" he asked as he locked the door. You ignored him completely, hands gripping tightly at the fabric of your dress, keeping your head down as you tried to keep your breathing steady and your raging thoughts at bay, but much to no use.

"Talk to me," Tom said softly, frown deep on his lips as he slowly moved over to your shaking form. He crouched down in front of you, hands landing on your knees as he searched for your eyes but all you did was hide your face behind your palms. "Darling," he tried again, but still, you didn't even bother looking up.

Tom took it upon himself to pry your hands gently away from your face and letting his fingers intertwine with yours. His heart broke when you looked at him with nothing but utmost sadness and hurt, tears running freely down your cheeks as you whispered,

"You deserve so much better."

"Okay, who the fuck told you that," Tom growled, but you only frowned deeply at his reaction because you knew, with one look in his eyes that his anger wasn't directed at you. It was at whoever planted that thought inside your head.

"No one—"

"Y/N," Tom warned.

"Nobody told me it directly. I just heard some girls in the bathroom saying how much you're way out of my league and how I looked like some assistant when I'm beside you and they are right Tom. I can't wear any designer clothes or any expensive dresses to look at least presentable when I'm with you. I can't match how handsome you are because I look nothing like those models or those actresses—"

"Darling, have you even seen yourself tonight?" Tom cut you off, shaking his head in disbelief as he furrowed his brows. "Have you seen how many guys I've been trying to wave off of you? Have you ever wondered why I've never let you go even in the slightest? Why I kept an arm around you or a hand on your back at all times?"

You shook your head no with a frown, not really getting where he was going with this.

"Babe, you stole the whole room! They were so drawn to you all the damn time like fucking moths to a flame and I was getting so fucking annoyed at them for always staring at you like that," Tom said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes for a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself before his gaze landed back on you. He flashed you a bright, genuine smile as he gave your hand a squeeze. "But I also felt so proud because fuck yeah, look at how fucking gorgeous my girlfriend is. Look at how lucky I am to have her with me and guess what? Get wrecked 'cause all you lot can do is stare at her while I get to hold her in my arms and call her mine."

You didn't have a chance to response when Tom suddenly stood up to his full height, pulling you with him and away from the bed as he walked backwards. You followed him with brows furrowed in confusion, but he only flashed you a charming grin.

"To be honest you're the one who's way out of my league, I mean look at you," Tom paused just as he stopped moving, stepping to the side until you were face to face with yourself in the floor length mirror. "Look how fucking beautiful you are! Those girls are just jealous because my god love, you make my fucking heart explode!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards your reflection in the mirror. You tilted your head at him with a pout, fresh sets of tears coating your eyes but for a different reason this time. Tom sighed as he moved back to stand in front of you, one hand landing on your hips as the other went on your cheek.

"I don't deserve someone better you know why?" he hummed, brown eyes boring into your own. "Because you are already the best girl I could ever have in my life." Tom pressed his forehead against yours, giving your hip a loving squeeze before he lifted his hand up so he could cup your face lovingly with both hands. "You are my best, most gorgeous and amazing girl with a heart of gold to match. I couldn't possibly find someone better than you my love and fuck whoever thinks otherwise," he finished, nothing but utmost sincerity coating his voice and swimming in his eyes, words doing nothing but make you heart grow ten times its size.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him all teary eyed, leaning even closer until you were able to capture his lips in yours, to let him feel through the kiss just how grateful you are of him. Tom hummed at the feeling, his hands sliding down your bare arms until he rested them on the small of your back, welcoming your kisses as he pulled you even closer to him.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips, fingers getting lost in his styled hair, tugging at them playfully making him let out a soft groan.

"And I love you so much, darling," he muttered, giving your bottom lip a soft nibble before he suddenly pulled away. One you met his eyes again, that's when you saw how they were already a shade darker than before.

Tom shot you a wide smirk before he pulled away completely, walking around you until he stood right behind, one hand taking home on your waist as the other went to hold your chin gently, turning your head to look back in front so you were once again face to face with yourself, right in the mirror.

He met your eyes through the floor-length mirror, his grin wide and mischievous as he ran his fingers down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. You suck in a breath as he took hold of the zip on your dress right as he sucked on that sweet spot on your neck he's already memorized. He pulled the zip down gently, the fabric going lose around your body as you kept eye contact with him through the mirror. Tom hooked his fingers on the straps of your dress, slowly pulling them off your shoulders and down your arms until it pooled at your feet, exposing you to the cold air of the room. With his voice deep and husky, Tom growled lowly against your ear,

"Now, enough talk and let me show you just how beautiful you are."

~~~

>> come say hi and send some in!

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♛ Overall/Everything Taglist: @theunwantedomega @vinylmendes @fallinfortom @disneysamara @avengersficwriter @musicalkeys @apatheticanvas67482 @camimndess @tom-hlover @jjandreidsgirl ♛ Tom H. Taglist: @hollandfanficlove @averyfosterthoughts @2018shawn @darlingspidey @namoreno @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @kittenruby @sunkisseddreamer @worldoftom @quaksonhehe @big-galaxy-chaos @clara-licht @dummiesshort @imanativeofswlondondahling @sonofabitchstyles @perspectiveparker @geminiparkers @parker-hollandx @arivera-30 @rebekkah4766 @particularnarry @iwannabekilledtwice @prettyintopeerpressure @fancyxholland

just lemme know if you want to be removed from the taglist loves <3

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #tom holland writing #tom holland request #tom holland oneshot #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland x female reader #tom holland x you

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leejungchans · 3 years

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juliet’s relationships with ateez.

they’re so beautiful i’m gonna fucking cryhdjhfjshsjs i’m going through it 💔

#HONGJOONG; (HONGLIET)

juliet is the self-proclaimed favourite child of hongjoong

she was very shy pre-debut and was scared of clashing with him, so they never fought

they became a lot closer when she asked hongjoong to help her with her rapping; she was always trained to be a vocalist so she thought her rapping needed work and (shyly) approached him asking for his advice

as they became more comfortable with each other, she learnt to honestly communicate her thoughts with him

makes sure hongjoong doesn’t overwork himself; brings him food, coffee, or just accompanies him silently when he’s working; will not hesitate to use her sad puppy eyes to convince him to go back to their dorm so he can get proper rest

she always looks on with a very proud smile when she hears hongjoong speaking in english; he picked up a little bit of her aussie accent too :>

actually doesn’t mind being a little shorter than him but she wears platform shoes a lot to tease him; he has jokingly threatened to throw them away

she is very worried about his scalp; but she loved his red and blue hair, and of course the famous mullet

with hongjoong especially it’s literally “juliet see, juliet do” :c

hongjoong dotes on juliet especially because she will always be a baby in his eyes; when they first met she was around 15, so he has always been really gentle with her; he looks after her extremely well

never lets her pay for anything despite her protests

she wants to treat him to stuff too :<

overall a very wholesome relationship

#SEONGHWA; (HWALIET)

another very, very wholesome relationship

he’s so, so gentle with her but will goof around with her too :(((

is the one who brings snacks, an extra jacket or blanket for her because she always forgets

when they first debuted, juliet would be very uneasy before public appearances because of the hate and comments she’d get; seonghwa was always there to calm her down and support her

when she was still in school he would nag her to do her homework hajshwjsj

she’s close with all the boys’ family but perhaps the closest with seonghwa’s and will sometimes visit his family with him during breaks!!

seonghwa is usually the first person juliet goes to if she’s having a bad day

she clings to him a lot, like, a lot; she will attach herself to his arm like a koala any chance she gets

sharing almost identical disgusted expressions

he always makes sure she’s eating; he gets sad if she doesn’t

late night talks with warm tea

each other’s #1 hype man; as much as she acts disgusted when seonghwa does aegyo or purposefully acts sexy, you can always hear her cheering him on in the background

that doesn’t mean she doesn’t tease him though

“excuse me, please put your tongue away” “mY hiPs aRe fLeXibLe” “sO hAwT” “wOw, AmAziNg” “...please stop”

#YUNHO; (JUNHO)

two babies

juliet lives to see yunho smile and it’s her life’s mission to make sure he stays happy forever

yunho always gives her piggyback rides

the height difference between these two is the funniest thing ever because she isn’t even that short but she always looks like a dwarf next to yunho

“uh...excuse me, you’re forgetting something :/” “huh? ohhh...[crouches down to match her height]” “thank you :D”

yunho brings out juliet’s happiest side effortlessly because it’s just impossible to be sad around him

that being said, yunho is her designated giant teddy bear whenever she’s sad

they always start dancing out of nowhere

you will hear her whooping and cheering very loudly in the background whenever yunho twerks and stuff

yunho’s fellow harry potter fan

he likes pinching her cheeks, patting her head and playing with her hair

but if he tries to use her head as an armrest she will kick him (out of love :3)

#YEOSANG; (SANGLIET)

someone save ateez from these two because they love roasting everyone

will not hesitate to roast each other as well

best friends who judge people together

when the others say or do something questionable, you can sometimes see yeosang and juliet exchange looks or hide their faces from secondhand embarrassment

little beans who get shy easily :(

she is yeosang’s biggest hype man; he could literally just be breathing and she will still go “wow, a living statue, absolutely breathtaking” “an angel sent to us from the heavens above” “yes, vocal king! yes, dance legend!”

they do everything in tiny :((((((((

they dance to the ponytail song together

she loves his birthmark so much and practically tells him that every day; she thinks it makes him even more beautiful and unique

he likes her cooking a lot so she always makes him food and lets him help out

“please don’t cut off your finger...” “do fingers grow back?” “i don’t know but i don’t want to find out from you.”

The™ best comedic duo but no one is ready to admit that yet

#SAN; (JUSAN)

juliet constantly judges san jokingly but she’s honestly just as chaotic

he once spun her ipad on his finger and almost dropped it; she didn’t speak to him for an hour

like hongjoong, san also picked up on her aussie accent a bit

juliet goes :OOOO every time san shows off his martial arts skills

if they’re not wreaking havoc together, then one of them is filming the other wreaking havoc alone while laughing hysterically behind the camera

she looks up to san so, so much; the way he improved his dancing tremendously through hard work and determination inspires her deeply

they learn other groups’ choreographies together

hypes the other up for everything

loves his voice so much; listens to him sing with heart eyes and vice versa

so, so clingy :((( they’re just tiny babies who need a lot of love and affection

juliet loves san so much and it breaks her heart knowing that he struggles with self-esteem like she does; they have a lot of deep talks where they talk for hours in the dark

#MINGI; (2MIN)

2Min!!!!!! 🥺

a giant and a baby

that only applies to their heights, though; because they’re both babies personality-wise

juliet is either being loud and dumb with him or she’s going “ahsjajsj please stop, we’re idols •_•”; there is no in between

she’d let mingi give her more piggyback rides but the first time he gave her one he almost dropped her

juliet never shuts up about how good mingi is at rapping and dancing; she’ll tell you that at least once a day

“anyways, mingi is such a good rapper and dancer. did i mention how phenomenal he is? because he is the best rapper and dancer :]”

whenever juliet sings/dances, mingi always looks on very proudly

“our main vocalist/dancer, everyone!”

her designated giant teddy bear number 2

like with hongjoong, she makes sure mingi is eating and sleeping because he works a lot too :(

it makes mingi really happy when she tries to rap his parts

juliet is the leader of the mingi protection squad, if you hurt him she’ll actually k word you in your sleep

#WOOYOUNG; (2YOUNG)

2Young; when they get paired up together for stuff, they introduce themselves with “2!” “Young!”

dear god, they are so loud

she’s either the first one shushing him or the others are telling both of them to shut up

wooyoung screams a lot so to juliet the only solution is to be even louder

siblings who annoy each other but also love the other to bits and will kill for each other

one time they did a v-live together and an atiny pointed out how when juliet says “no” it sounds like “noerrrrr”; wooyoung hasn’t let it go since and clowns her for it every chance he gets

one minute they’re bickering over something stupid and the next they’re cuddling on the sofa and laughing at random stuff on their phones

wooyoung teases her for literally everything, from her height to her australian accent; it’s a miracle she hasn’t killed him yet

“wooyoung dance king!”

she loves his vocals so much :(

she also loves his laugh; she thinks it’s very contagious and it always makes her laugh even harder

very clingy pt.2 :(((((

they like to cook together; despite juliet’s constant teasing, she genuinely loves his cooking

the biggest army’s

the duo that has everyone wrapped around their fingers

#JONGHO; (JONGLIET)

they’re the youngest ones so they’re bound to be chaotic together

they have a secret handshake!!

since they’re the only ones who don’t share a birth year with anyone in the group, they call themselves the “21st century duo”

another tom-and-jerry relationship but they love each other to bits i promise :’)

high note battles that make the others go •_•

their duets though :’)))) a blessing

when they sang miss a’s “good-bye baby” together at mama 2019

vocal legends

jongho always use the fact that she’s the youngest against her, especially when they’re asked to do aegyo

“i think the maknae should do it >:)” “jongHO SHUTUPJAGSJAJS”

“well, he’s the youngest among the boys, so i think he should go too”; cue his look of ultimate betrayal

imagine her face when she saw his red hair for the first time :(

“omgomgomg now you’re a real apple!!!” :(((((

more piggyback rides!!

okay, but juliet is honestly so grateful for jongho; they’re the closest in age so it’s always very easy for her to talk to him and she loves him a lot :’(

they understand each other very deeply and usually they don’t need to exchange words to know what the other is thinking/feeling

she can overthink a lot and in those moments he’s her voice of reason and is always there to help her through those times

partners in crime :>

#about.juliet #ateez 9th member #ateez ninth member #kpop oc #idol oc #ateez oc #kpop addition #idol addition #ateez addition #kpop imagines #idol imagines #ateez imagines #kpop au #idol au #ateez au

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pepperonyspizza · 3 years

Note

soulmate au where you touch your soulmate for the first time it leaves a handprint that's how you know they are your soulmate

well, this went kinda out of hand and ended up way longer than I wanted it to be lmao also this didn’t give me any specific ship so I went with pepperony :) I hope that’s what you wanted! ~*~ There is this rule that Tony has: Do not touch Pepper. Ever. He’s not sure how it started but something about their ‘professional’ relationship has put that barrier over the years - but that doesn’t stop Tony from testing just how solid said wall is every now and then. The media isn’t calling him a sleazy asshole for nothing and it’s not like he’s being too obnoxious about it.

A nudge of his shoulder against hers, his hand a fleeting pressure on the small of her back, always with a securing layer of clothing between them. That’s it. Nothing more.

Tony tells himself that he doesn’t push it any further because, deep down, there is something that resembles a gentleman, not because he’s scared to drive them to a point from which there is no going back.

But that fear (not that it’s actually that) isn’t enough to keep Tony from wishing that things could be different, especially during a moment like this one when Pepper is tearing into him about yet another board meeting he’s missed and he wants nothing more than to shut her up.

It would be so easy. Tony can imagine it in his head perfectly. He would reach for her, wrap his fingers around her slender wrist and she would stop talking in an instant to stare at him in shock.

More would happen after that, at least according to his fantasy. They’d kiss and stumble out of the messy workshop to continue what they had started upstairs in his bedroom. His real bedroom, the one only he gets to see. Well, and Pepper of course when she interrupts his peaceful sleep with her nagging—

“Tony!”

He blinks out of his daydream, realizing that he’s been staring at a bland wall for the last minute. The woman he’s been ignoring is looking everything but amused and not even the charming grin he shoots her way can calm her down.

“Yes, dear?”

“Have you listened to anything I just said?”

“...something about a board meeting that is scheduled for today?”

“Was,” Pepper corrects, sighing deeply. “It was scheduled for today, Tony. 3 hours ago. I told you about it this morning.”

“Oops.”

“Oops?!” He gets up from his chair but she’s close on his heels even as he moves further into the large space of his workshop. “That’s all you have to say after I spent the past thirty minutes cleaning up your mess?”

It must have been something important for Pepper to be this angry at him. He must have missed at least four other meetings this week alone and she’s barely done so much as lecture him about those.

Tony whirls around with his hands up, “Woah, easy now. It’s not that big of a deal, right?” His grin is all teeth as Pepper’s nostrils flare. “Okay, that was the wrong thing to say. Let me try again. I’m really sorry. I forgot.”

She crosses her arms and huffs but she isn’t yelling anymore.

“Let me make it up to you,” he continues with a smile, “How about dinner? Just the two of us and some fancy food.”

And just like that, he’s back to square one The fire in Pepper’s eyes is back, brighter and more deadly than before. Tony can’t believe that he’s said the wrong thing again.

“Dinner? Are you serious?” She throws her arms up, looking both annoyed and exhausted, which makes Tony feel like he’s getting scolded by a teacher. “Thanks to your little stunt, I’ll most likely be dealing with this all night. I won’t have time to indulge any of your antics.”

“Pep.”

“If you are so desperate for a nice dinner, how about you show up for the one you have scheduled for tomorrow evening?”

“Pepper.”

“Because, and I swear to god, Tony, if you miss anything else this week, I’ll—”

“Potts!”

Tony barks at least, too tired to continue this argument any longer. He absentmindedly reaches for her, settling one of his hands on her forearm before he can think twice about it.

It takes less than a heartbeat for Pepper to react. She goes silent, not because he told her to but because he’s literally holding onto her, which has never happened before.

Her skin is all smooth and soft, such a strong contrast to his own. Tony wants to slap himself for only finding out now when he could have been touching her for all those years.

But then Pepper’s eyes go wide and she jerks back like he’s burnt her. Tony lets go without comment, although the five steps she takes back aren’t necessary. He won’t jump her. They are friends, aren’t they? Friends touch each other casually.

“Come on, Pep. I promise that I’m not infectious.” He does his best to grin as he shows her the palms of his rough hands. “And no oil or grease stains either. See?”

She doesn’t look down. In fact, it doesn’t seem like she’s looking at him at all but rather straight through him. Tony frowns, a little concerned and very much confused. His gaze drops down to where Pepper is clutching her arm and his eyebrows almost shoot into his hairline when he sees what her small hands are trying to cover up.

Tony takes a step towards her, waiting for her to take one back and keep them apart. She doesn’t. Pepper only snaps out of her frozen like state when he’s already close enough to pull her arm out of the way.

There, covering a good part of her forearm is a crimson handprint. Not any handprint but Tony’s. He puts his hand right on top of it to check, to make sure that it hasn’t been there before even though he already knows so.

His hand fits perfectly on top of it. His eyes snap back up to Pepper’s face when she fails to respond to… well, anything. Frankly, the woman looks like she’s seen a ghost. Any other time, Tony would have been insulted but given the current circumstances, he kind of understands.

“Are you going to say something?” “Mr. Stark, I—”

Mr. Stark. She’s just found out that he’s her soulmate and she’s trying to go with formal titles? Hell no. That’s not how they are going to play.

Tony cuts her off for the second time that day but instead of snapping, he kisses her. It’s not his proudest moment and he’ll blame his poor impulse control for it later. Pepper lets out a surprised squeak that’s muffled by his mouth pressing against hers but otherwise makes no move to stop him.

It will happen eventually, Tony is absolutely sure of it - but until that happens, he’s going to take full advantage of her hesitation. Kissing Pepper has been his number one fantasy for so long and now that the knowledge of him being her soulmate hangs above them, the fire inside him has only grown hotter.

Her hand comes in contact with his body just like he’s expected but not to push him away but to fist her hand into the fabric of his tank top and pull him closer. Tony realizes with a start that he’s kissing back.

Pepper is kissing him. With quite a lot of enthusiasm, he might add.

Tony doesn’t know how long the kiss lasts or at what point Pepper’s free hand has moved to his neck. He does notice the sudden and unnatural warmth that spreads over his skin where she’s touching him. It’s much warmer than the heat radiating from her hand should be, so much that he breaks the kiss with a startled yelp.

The woman in front of him pulls her hand away quickly as her eyes snap open. If Tony wasn’t so scared about what the hell was going on, he would have been smug about the dazed look on Pepper’s face and the state of her lips. She opens her mouth to say something but then her gaze drops down to his neck. Whatever she sees there is enough to keep her quiet.

“What?! What is it? What is happening?” Pepper only stares. “Potts!”

“I am sorry,” she says, already in the process of reaching out again before she thinks better of it and drops her arm back down to her side. “I am so sorry, Tony. I didn’t think about...”

She trails off and Tony panics. What the hell has she done to him? His skin is no longer burning but the part she’s touched is still warm. It’s a calming heat but with how nervous Pepper looks, even that is not enough to keep him from freaking out.

He dashes across the workshop and towards the full-length mirror in one of the corners, expecting the worst. The handprint he finds on his neck is completely logical and yet baffles him. He’d been so distracted by the mark he’s left on her that he’d forgotten about this part.

Not only is he her soulmate but she’s his soulmate as well.

Tony turns around, the biggest grin plastered across his face as he watches Pepper approach him, “Potts.”

“This is a disaster!” His heart drops. Isn’t she happy about this? It’s everyone’s dream to find their soulmate… or maybe it’s not that she’s finally found hers but rather who it has turned out to be.

“There is no way we can cover that up unless you’re wearing a turtleneck to every single one of your meetings from now on.”

He frowns. “What?” “This will be a P.R nightmare.”

“Are you seriously thinking about the stupid company right now?” Tony asks with annoyance and the slightest bit of hurt in his voice. “We’re soulmates, Pepper. You kissed me!”

“Actually, you kissed me.” “And you kissed back!” He points at the handprint on his neck and yeah, its location will make it impossible to hide. Not that Tony minds that. “Look how you claimed me. Everyone will see this and know that you did it.” The speed at which she turns red has to be some sort of record.

“I didn’t mean to! Besides, no one will know that it’s my hand.”

“Nope, at least not until I tell them. And I will.”

“Tony!”

“I’ll tell everyone, Potts. And you better tell any schmuck that tries to flirt with you that you already found your soulmate.” She’s quiet as she observes him. Tony doubts that she’s aware of the fact that she’s biting her lip but that doesn’t stop his lizard brain from wanting to kiss her again. The mark on his neck tingles, sending a shiver down his spine.

“We have to talk about this. We can’t just… this will get complicated.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Tony promises as he settles his hands on her hips. “I’m a genius. You’re smart. We got this.” He leans forward, his breath ghosting over her face. “We’ll have all the time in the world to talk. Later.”

Before Pepper has the chance to object, he kisses her. This time, it takes not nearly as long before she’s returning the kiss, both her hands buried in his hair. It feels amazing. Like it is destined to be.

In some way, Tony thinks that it is.

#pepperony #tony stark #pepper potts #fanfic #my writing

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fallen-in-dreams · 4 years

Text

7 Signs of a Cheater

Links: FF.net & AO3. Pairing: Sakura/Gaara. Summary: When Sasuke cheats on her, Sakura returns the favour. It's not cheating if he did it first... right? A vignette of how GaaSaku happens when SasuSaku wasn't paying attention. AU Modern GaaSaku/SasuSaku. Status: Complete. Warning: Angst. Jealousy. Not a moral kind of story. Lemons. Bad sex. Good sex. Cheating. Also: if you do not like SasuSaku (can't stand it or just don't like reading it) I suggest you DON'T read this. It's not just GaaSaku in here. (But yes, this is ultimately GaaSaku. Disclaimer: I have enjoyed FANON SasuSaku in the past, so no character bashing was intended. Not sure that translates very well in THIS story, because of its premise, but whatever.Enjoy. ^_^

.:.

1) Mysterious phone calls or texts on his phone.

The ringing woke Sakura up and her eyes fluttered open. She didn't move, knowing before she looked at the clock that it was not light out yet and whomever was calling could just go to early morning hell. Besides, they had an answering machine and Sasuke was anal about letting it take over when his beauty sleep might be interrupted.

This was why she was surprised when the ringing stopped abruptly, and she heard Sasuke's baritone voice answer it. Sakura froze in place, hyper aware of how her breathing had stopped instinctively and closed her eyes quickly, heart racing. Forcing herself to breathe deeply, she imitated sleep. Why she felt the need to do this she didn't know, until his voice lowered to a whisper.

She strained to hear him.

"I told you not to call me at home … no, she's asleep. Just …what?"

Snippets of his conversation that made no sense whirled in her head.

"I said I'll see you later."

Whispering. She watched the minutes tick by on the clock.

"Don't call me at home."

More whispering. The clock beeped three times as it hit exactly 3am.

"Hn. I'll see you there."

Then silence. Like he was trying to make sure she was still asleep, Sasuke climbed back into bed and touched her shoulder. It took all her self-control not to respond. But he tugged a little harder and she could no longer hide behind the façade of sleep. Pretending she was just waking up, Sakura let out a soft yawn, rolled onto her back and looked over at Sasuke. She rubbed her eyes for good measure and kept them only half open. She noticed he still had the phone in his hand; her eyes dropped to it and his fingers twitched, like he'd been caught out, so she said the only thing she could think of.

"Sasuke, did someone call?

"Wrong number."

She frowned as he laid down and rolled away from her on the bed. If it was a wrong number, then why had the call lasted for almost five minutes?

.:.

Sakura was done feeling sorry for herself that her boyfriend was busy. Again. She took Naruto up on his invitation—one also extended to Sasuke, but the Uchiha had cited work to get out of it—and headed out to the club that the blond had organised to take over that night for his twenty-first birthday bash. Her name was on the list, so she waited impatiently for the bouncer to let her in, ignoring the way his eyes lingered on her tits. She wished she'd worn something more appropriate for the cool night. Her strapless dress was perfect for her because she could hardly call her chest endowed. It fitted her like a glove, too, and was made of a shimmery, black material.

Naruto was going to get a kick out of it.

Finally let inside, Sakura clutched her purse tightly, moving the strap over her head; it accentuated her non-existent assets, which she was just fine with. Sasuke hadn't been making an effort to make her feel sexy lately, so this would have to do.

Strangers, beware. You can look but not touch.

She giggled at herself, inwardly, then looked around for a blob of blond hair.

Found you.

He was talking animatedly with some guy with red hair. They both turned to look at her as she drew closer; the redhead caught her eye and she remembered him right away from a picture on Naruto's desk at his apartment. It was for the redhead's birthday the year before, apparently. Sakura rationalised her quick memory from a single photo because his unusual hair colour stood out. And now that she'd seen him in the flesh, she remarked internally just how good it complimented him. Gaara was an out of towner, only in Konoha because of the blond. He was also apparently some big shot in Suna.

She felt a thrill go through her body at he way he was blatantly ogling her.

"Sakura-chan!" Naruto yelled and hugged her. "You look amazing! That dress is awesome! Come, meet Gaara. He doesn't bite, I promise."

This Gaara smirked, taking her hand and kissing it gently; his fingers brushed over her skin, teasingly. She blushed. "Not unless you want me to," he said, and she felt her mouth go dry.

This is going to be a long night.

.:.

2) Unpredictable behaviour.

He'd been more quiet than usual the past few weeks. Sasuke was working so late his head had barely hit the pillow before her alarm went off; her shifts at the hospital were also starting earlier. Tsunade-sama was running her ragged, but Sakura enjoyed the challenge. It was a welcomed distraction from the nagging doubts that forced their way into her head when she was at home—alone and wondering where her boyfriend was this time.

But every so often she thought he might tell her; he opened his mouth when she asked him how his day was but then shut it just as quickly, murmuring, "hn" and then going back to whatever he was doing that was so damn important. Sakura would be more offended by his standoffish attitude if she too, hadn't been overworking herself lately.

But she missed her boyfriend. She missed his kisses, his caresses, and when she was able to get more than a monosyllabic response from him. Sakura saw him in the morning when he got up and she was almost out the door, as well as some nights when she'd woken up as he returned home. Then there were a few sporadic days—such as weekends and his normal day off—where she would wake to the smell of him cooking breakfast. Or to the feel of his fingers working their magic between her legs and his mouth leaving wet trails along her neck. But those days were few and far between and becoming a chore to wait for.

They'd talked about this.

And his behaviour became so unpredictable that Sakura—in her desperation for his attention—started a fight with him. She didn't want it to come out of nowhere and be about something stupid, but that's ultimately what their fights ended up being centred on. She wanted to get him to admit what was wrong with him, so she brought up his family. It wasn't a taboo topic, but he didn't like talking about them, either. Other times she'd mention them, he'd just go quiet and wait for her to give up on getting a reaction from him. But this time…

"Sakura, shut up!"

She recoiled as he stormed out of their apartment, grabbling his car keys and coat, and slamming the door behind himself. The minutes ticked by as she stood there, with her mouth hung open and the tears prickling at her eyes.

Sasuke didn't tell her to shut up and he certainly never yelled at her. Not even in his angriest moments.

What the hell is wrong with him?

And how the hell was she supposed to help him if he wouldn't talk about it?

.:.

Alone for her day off, Sakura contacted a few friends, bored out of her mind. But everyone seemed to be busy, so she decided to invade Naruto's space—he did it to her so often. Doing it back to him wouldn't bother him at all, she was sure. And as luck would have it, she ran into Gaara instead. Apparently, he was staying in Konoha for the week, on vacation and baka that he was, Naruto had forgotten to make time in his own schedule to hang with him. So that was how Sakura found herself, early Sunday morning, letting herself into Naruto's apartment, only to find out the blond had been called into work.

And his hot, new temporary roommate, was a master at Call of Duty. She'd never played this game before, and contemplated just turning around and leaving, but those jade eyes caught hers and she found herself completely unable to move. Away, that is. She was perfectly capable of sitting down next to him, putting her feet up, and watching him play.

They said nothing for two hours. Occasionally, Sakura would get up and grab a drink or bowl of chips—which he shared with her, without asking—but eventually found herself next to him again, in silence. But every time she sat down, she sat closer. He didn't seem to mind. The smirk on his face told her that her presence was welcome.

His eyes would dart to her bare legs when she shifted position next to him and occasionally watch her lick the salt of the chips from her lips. But she didn't find it perverted. It was flattering.

And surprisingly, the lack of chatter between them was never tense or annoying. He played the game with little interaction, not making use of the in-game chat other than to occasionally tell someone they're an idiot or grunt at them. She even heard someone—so loud—on the other end ask him if he was alone because they "could hear crunching so stop fucking eating chips" when Gaara wasn't the one eating. But she liked it. It meant she would be less distracted by his deep voice and could concentrate on the game. She often watched Naruto play and loved it. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop taking sneak peeks at the man next to her.

It was this way the first time she'd met Sasuke, but where the raven-haired man had called her annoying and told Naruto to stop inviting her over during their gaming hours, Gaara seemed content with her presence.

She had no idea how much Naruto had told him about her, but he didn't seem interested in asking her anything about herself.

Once he was done with the game however, Gaara carefully placed his controller and headset down on the coffee table and then turned to her, like she hadn't been sitting there for hours, and smirked at her.

"Do you play?"

"C.O.D?" She squeaked out her question and he started running a hand along her arm.

"Yes."

"No."

"You like watching, though."

That sounds like a dirty innuendo.

"N-Naruto's really into it and I-uh like watching."

Yee, gods.

Gaara shifted closer to her on the couch and started asking her questions about herself while making it clear he was interested in her, but not actually crossing any kind of line. Not really. He had to know who she was, who she was dating, and that both Sakura and Sasuke were friends of Naruto.

But as his fingers started massaging her skin, he clearly didn't care. (IF he knew; she still wasn't sure.) He didn't try anything else with her and she felt disappointed. Nights alone and unwanted like she was some kind of asexual decoration instead of Sasuke's very fuckable girlfriend would not excuse her if she decided to start something with Gaara first.

She wouldn't let anything happen between them, no matter how good his fingers felt along her bare arms. And… legs. She couldn't.

.:.

3) He hides his financial history from you.

The Uchiha family business was worth millions. Hundreds of millions. Maybe even billions. She wasn't sure. Sakura hadn't bothered googling them since she hadn't started dating Sasuke because he drove a car that probably cost hundreds of thousands of yen. Or a million. What did she know about sports cars?

But he didn't hide his expenses from her. Until now.

They used to go over their joint finances together. Now he suddenly didn't have enough time and she was left doing her own, by herself. He wouldn't even give her an estimate on his own expenditure. They had a joint account that he suddenly wasn't depositing anything into and her password for his account wasn't working anymore.

Sakura didn't like it. She needed to find something, anything, that hinted to what he was hiding.

So, she broke into the lock boxes he'd hidden in his study; that he didn't know she knew about. Well actually, she undid the screws holding the hinges in place—it was easier than trying to teach herself to pick the lock. She'd never been the patient type when angry or annoyed. The heavy lid came off easily and she placed it carefully on the floor before rummaging through the box. There were letters to and from his father and his older brother Itachi, but she reserved that for emergency suspicion and just focused on looking for anything financial.

There were a handful of blank cheques. The cheapest was in the hundreds of yen. She frowned. Sasuke hated blank cheques. If someone got their hands on them, he could be out thousands—or more—yen.

What is he doing?

She double-checked the time (he wasn't due to return home for another two hours) and got to work on sorting out all the paperwork he didn't want her to see. If this was just a financial mix up, there'd be nothing in any of the rest of this stuff that should set off her suspicion, right?

Sakura resisted the urge to read the sealed envelopes, but noted they had no recipient name on the front. And strangely, when she rattled a few, they seemed to contain small bits of metal.

And there was a charge to a five-star hotel suite she didn't remember going to. The receipt clearly showed a single room for two occupants and many charges for room service. Things like oysters, chocolate, ice-cream, and champagne on the room service charge caught her eye. Gulping and wracked with sudden nerves, her eyes roved over the date. It was from a weekend she'd spent at a medical conference on the other side of the country.

And he'd (allegedly) been stuck at home with work.

.:.

Sakura declined all fourteen of Naruto's invites to go to some generic theme park place—she had no idea what it was because he was so excited over the phone, it came out as a ramble. He had finally gotten a day off to hang with Gaara and wanted Sakura to come with. She didn't.

Gaara was a red-hot temptation that she was determined to avoid until he went back home. Far, far, far away in the magical land of Suna. That weird city she'd never visited and was now off her bucket list. She just had to put more effort into her crumbling relationship, even if the idea of trying to pressure or trick a stubborn Uchiha into sex did make her cringe.

But when Sasuke stood her up, again, Sakura decided she wasn't going to wallow. She messaged Ino and met her at Hinata's place; they decided to go dancing. It was a place that Naruto frequented, but Sakura didn't bother worrying about it—he'd texted her shortly after their phone call to tell her he was going to take the redhead to some weird mini-golfing place. She'd sent him a few emojis and left it at that.

Imagine her surprise when, half an hour after dancing with her girls and turning down every guy that tried to come onto her, Sakura spotted a familiar redhead and blond in the crowd.

Not knowing about her predicament, Hinata welcomed Naruto happily, shyly accepting his arm as he insisted on dancing with her, and Ino raked Gaara with her eyes. Sakura was about to make an excuse to leave when he moved up beside her, ignoring Ino's pout and whispered in the pinkette's ear, "please don't make me have to dance with the other blonde tonight."

Sakura bit her lip and glanced at Naruto, who was spinning Hinata around happily, and decided not to question that comment. She sighed and let him wrap an arm around her waist (no inappropriate touching, she told him, and he smirked but nodded his head). Ino quickly decided not to be left out and immediately grinded against some dark-haired stranger, making Sakura roll her eyes. The girl loved competing for male attention with Sakura, back when the pinkette used to be single.

Gaara moved them in time with the music and kept his hands in appropriate places but she didn't trust him. Not for a moment. He took the opportunity to pull her closer when the song was slower and grind against her when the beat sped up—still nothing too bad but she was worried how it looked.

Sakura pulled away from him after the fifth song. It was late. She needed to get home.

He politely escorted her to the door of the club, and she fled.

.:.

4) Changes in tastes overnight, like music, etc.

Friday nights were their date night. Even when he was being distant and Sakura found her days spent alone in their apartment or working or calling up Ino to see if the blonde had the day off, they still went out at the end of the week. They took turns choosing what they'd be doing, and this time was Sasuke's.

He wanted to head to the cinema. But he didn't seem to care what movies were showing. So, Sakura chose a romantic time travel movie. The female protagonist was travelling backwards in time. Sakura loved it. Sasuke spent the whole time, his eyes glazed over or looking around the auditorium.

Sakura had fallen in love with Sasuke the day she realised he loved romantic movies. Even if he wasn't very good at being romantic, himself.

The soundtrack had her in tears, but he just sat there, stiff as a board and she wondered if maybe he was coming down with something. Sakura paid for their dinner later that night as they made their way to the beach. He was such an odd man, liking the sand between his toes more than she did. He was so weird, always on the look out for the latest rock metal music. She didn't share his tastes, for the most part. But it was never boring.

He must be coming down with something.

They ended the night in their apartment after the karaoke bar. Sakura was surprised by the intensity in which Sasuke took her clothes off, since he hadn't touched her in a while, but she wasn't going to complain. His hands were all over her suddenly, like he was trying too hard, but she let him have at it, afraid that any interruption from her might stop him altogether. She moaned in all the right places, touched him in all the ways he liked, and parted her legs when he nudged at her to do so.

And when he finally pushed inside her, Sakura tried to let herself go. For her mind to just disappear in the rocking and groaning and slapping of their bodies. But she couldn't. Something was different. Something was very wrong.

Unbidden and out of nowhere, images of their night out came to her and she wondered if this had something to do with his weird behaviour lately. He wasn't the most romantic person, but he did like romantic movies that actually contained plots. Like the one tonight. Everything about him felt off.

She wasn't enjoying herself. Sasuke didn't seem to be enjoying himself. Their sex wasn't normally the most adventurous, but Sakura didn't think she was doing anything wrong. She tried to mix it up, but he kept pushing her back down on the mattress, not even bothering with his signature "what are you doing" look as he continued thrusting. When he finally came, Sakura decided to worry about it later. Along with all the other sudden changes in his tastes. She ran a hand through his hair lovingly as he panted into her ear before rolling off and away to try to sleep. And she sighed heavily.

As far as she knew, he had no plans for Saturday, so she resolved to ask him about it in the morning.

But when her eyes fluttered open after a night of fitful sleep and she reached for Sasuke, happy and nervous at the same time, her hands hit empty, crumpled bed sheets instead. He'd left a note on his pillow, stating that he'd been called into work.

So much for my answers.

.:.

I'm a cheating bitch!

Sakura found herself thinking of Gaara when she was in the middle of writing out boring reports at work. Whenever something slowed down enough, she couldn't help it. Tsunade ran her ragged, as usual, and her home life was quiet and upsetting. So, in those moments when her focus slipped, her thoughts drifted to the newest man in her life.

Ugh.

Ino had talked her ear off on the phone after that night about "what were you doing?" and so forth, while simultaneously wondering out loud if this "redhead with the hots for you" would do her instead. Sakura gagged at that and told her off for it before making her promise to not tell Sasuke about Gaara.

"There's nothing going on," she rationalised it. "Sasuke's under a lot of stress at work so bugging him with this would just be unnecessary."

"Whatever forehead. But with the way you and Gaara were bumping against each other at the club, maybe you need to decide if you even want Sasuke to not know. Imagine being sandwiched between those two and—"

Sakura abruptly ended the call.

She was so not interested in having sex with Gaara. And Sasuke wouldn't go for it anyway…

Sakura felt her face flush as she stared at her phone. She didn't want to proposition Gaara or accept his advances, not really. Imagining him hot and bothered didn't mean she wanted to actually see him hot and bothered. She had a boyfriend. She had someone. Even if it didn't actually feel like she'd had Sasuke for a long time.

This was just lust. She'd get over it.

Sakura jumped as her phone rang in her hand, holding a hand to her heart to steady her breathing. She didn't recognise the number but decided a quick prank call might just be what she needed to keep her mind away from pretending she didn't want to jump Gaara's bones.

Crazy.

"Sakura."

Damn it.

"Gaara? How'd you get my number?"

"Naruto."

"Right. So, what's up?"

That was lame.

"I need a lift to the airport."

Right, he was going home. Her free hand shook slightly, and she clasped it to her chest as she tried to focus on the call. Sakura cleared her throat.

"Why can't Naruto pick you up?"

"He's inconveniently busy."

"Working, or Hinata?"

Gaara chuckled on the other end. "You don't want to know."

Enigmatic. Funny. So, fucking hot.

He's going to be the death of me.

Sakura thought about it, but then berated herself for being so rude. If she didn't get to sleep with him, then being his friend was the next best thing.

I SO don't want to sleep with him, she told herself staunchly.

Sakura forced a smile to her face. "Okay, when do you need to be there?"

"In ten minutes."

"Shit." She hadn't realised she's said that out loud until Gaara chuckled on the other end. She sighed. "I'll be right over."

.:.

5) Has new friends at work or responsibilities.

He'd been working a lot. That wasn't news. So, it was no surprise to Sakura when Sasuke was promoted. The success ladder of Investment Banking was now opened wide to him. He seemed proud of himself, so she was proud of him. Even if this wasn't a career that he'd ever seemed proud of before. Sasuke had told her once he just needed to get away from his father. It was a job he was good at. It bored her to tears, but whatever.

Sakura went to the company party to celebrate. Sasuke hadn't invited her but she pushed her way into it anyway. She made sure to know when and where it was going to be and talked so animatedly about it to him that he couldn't just say, "no, you can't come". He'd never stopped her from attending work functions with him before, but she was paranoid that this was going to be a first.

She'd rearranged her schedule at the hospital damn it. She was going to do this.

Sakura had gotten to know the names and faces of the people Sasuke worked with, but she didn't recognise any of the people at the party. They were all new co-workers, it seemed. He must've been transferred between departments for this promotion. She was very proud of him with that realisation. He was doing better. He was proving to his father that he didn't need to keep running to Fugaku every time he hit a bump in the road. She smiled up at him and he gave her a tentative one back.

But then, Sakura learned very quickly that the women her boyfriend was now working with had their eyes on him. She clung to him all night, glad she'd worn something sexy as well as expensive, and made sure to glare at any woman who got too close to him.

Why didn't he say anything about this?

Sasuke happily (for him) talked with every associate that came up to him, and even disappeared for about twenty minutes one time, citing a work emergency. Sakura spent that time receiving smug looks from his co-workers and trying and failing to feel welcomed.

When Sasuke returned, she reclaimed his arm and was happily surprised when his other hand came to rest on hers when a particularly beautiful woman came up to talk to him—while ignoring the pinkette.

How many beautiful people does he even work with?

Sasuke's main boss—a man with strange facial piercings and bright hair—was nice enough to address Sakura a few times and made a point of talking about Sasuke's new responsibilities. Sakura sighed internally, realising this was going to mean more work for him, and later nights. As if it wasn't bad enough.

There's goes my sex life.

.:.

The ride to the airport and Gaara's subsequent disappearance from her day to day was weighing down on her. A soft kiss to her cheek in thanks and she was blushing for hours afterward. He still hadn't touched her inappropriately.

Thank, kami.

But there was still an inappropriate nature to his treatment of her. She wasn't sure if he knew she was dating Sasuke as the raven-haired man was never mentioned, even during a Zoom session between Sakura, Gaara, and Naruto. Sasuke hadn't even "hn'd" at her in days and Gaara found time in his busy schedule to talk to her about nonsense and ask about her work and friends, while Naruto made faces at them both. He acted like a friend of a friend in front of Naruto but once the blond got off the line, Gaara asked her what time she had free for a one-on-one chat. She knew immediately it was a bad idea. But she sent him her schedule for the next week and he reciprocated.

They decided on Sunday night. She would be home alone and apparently, his siblings had families to tend to then. He was the only single person in his family. It was giving her bad thoughts. She distracted herself from that by telling him about a patient that threw up on her. Unsexy story, coming right up.

"Uh, Sakura?"

"Yes?" She sat up and self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Have you ever been to Suna?"

Oh goodness, don't ask me to come to Suna.

"N-no."

He smirked at her. "Better not. It might ruin your perfect complexion."

She poked her tongue at him.

"Mature."

Sakura started at the sound of the front door of her apartment opening. Sasuke was home.

"I have to go," she said.

"I'll see you Sunday."

"Bye," she said hastily, and closed her laptop quickly, scared of what her boyfriend might think of this agreement.

Wait.

What am I feeling so guilty about?

Women and men could totally be non-fuck buddy friends. She didn't jump into Naruto's bed, so she wasn't going to jump into Gaara's. No matter how much she desperately wanted to.

Ugh.

.:.

6) He's changed his lifestyle suddenly (lost weight, more muscle, etc).

Sasuke had always been fit. He was lean but powerful, and always had a weekly schedule of fitness. He knew how to take care of himself.

But this was insane.

Sakura had been cataloguing the changes in her boyfriend and come to the logical conclusion that he'd morphed into a fully-fledged health and fitness fanatic while she wasn't looking. This was beyond OCD.

His food in their fridge changed from his usual leftover okaka to that green crap that health nuts whizzed out because they ate too much of it. Whenever she wanted to have sex, he made his excuses and either had a migraine or went for a jog, instead. When he wasn't working, of course.

She decided to get proactive after a particularly bad day at the hospital and set up a romantic dinner, knowing he was finishing work at six because of a closure of one of the bank's big clients. It wasn't that he was being laid off—just that he wouldn't be needed that night. The bosses were working with more senior representatives to resolve the issue.

So, she sat in her chair at the dining table, feeling sexy wearing Sasuke's favourite of her dark red lace lingerie under her sleek black dress, and waited for him to open their front door and be surprised. She wondered if maybe she should have just waited, naked, in their bedroom, but her boyfriend was always the horniest after a good, home cooked meal, so she waited.

And waited.

She waited for an hour before calling his mobile phone and got his message bank. A few minutes later she got a text; he'd decided to go a co-worker's house for a few hours and wouldn't be home until the usual time. Sakura sighed and blew out the candles she'd set up. This was getting her nowhere.

A week later, he finally came home on time and she was excited. Sakura hadn't decked out the dining room table again, but she'd made dinner and as he dug into his rice balls and tuna, she couldn't keep the grin off her face. He was here, he was listening to what she was saying—her day at work had been great—and she was feeling particularly randy every time he looked up at her because of something she'd said.

So, when the dishes were put away and they'd had their separate showers, Sakura pounced.

When he pinned her to their bed, holding himself up as he hovered over her, she couldn't help but notice his biceps were larger. She couldn't help but notice his lacklustre performance as he thrust in and out of her had not changed—just his physique. Sasuke had never been the sex god his fan girls had assumed from the moment he was old enough to have sex, but it wasn't for lack of trying. She didn't begrudge him that.

But now, he seemed to have completely given up.

They hadn't had sex in months, and he didn't seem as hungry for it as she'd been for him. Surely the extra stamina he'd gained from working out so much would transfer into every physical aspect of his life.

"Sasuke?"

He ignored her and rolled over, tucking his face into his bent arm. She knew that pose. He did this every time he was annoyed at himself. For someone who'd known him for years, it was obvious to Sakura that he was regretting giving into her.

Her heart couldn't take much more of this.

.:.

A few more months had passed since she saw Gaara off at the airport and Sakura was enjoying the Zoom calls with him more than any communication with Naruto. The redhead was quickly becoming one of her closest friends.

It helps that he's hundreds of miles away.

She couldn't bang someone she couldn't touch, no matter how many times Ino tried to convince her that virtual sex was a thing. It was fine for people in long distant relationships, but she was living with and dating Sasuke.

While wishing I was living with and dating Gaara.

Did it make it virtual sex if they talked about their favourite positions and what got them off? She talked to Ino about this stuff too, but Ino never looked at her like she wanted to devour Sakura when the pinkette admitted to preferring to be the dominant one, rather than submissive. And it wasn't Ino's eyes that dropped to her mouth when Sakura licked her lips in the middle of her confession that she liked the preamble of her lover slowly inserting their fingers into her. Teasing her before going all in.

It was Gaara who agreed that sex with strangers wasn't as hot as fucking someone you considered a friend.

Friend.

The night before Gaara had told her this, Sasuke had taken her quick and fast—and after his confession, it made her wonder if he was friends with Gaara. She imagined sex with the redhead would be less vanilla and more intense than the Uchiha. She often imagined what they'd look like taking their turns with her. After a few months of this virtual, sex confessions, and sick of hating herself for it, she no longer berated herself for these healthy fantasies and was happy enough to just keep this secret to herself. She wasn't going to lose her mind over this.

Their friendship was fine the way it was.

Right up until the moment that Naruto informed her Gaara was returning to Konoha again.

"He's looking for real estate for a client," the blond said, making himself at home in Sakura's kitchen. He was a great cook when he didn't make ramen. Sasuke had left for work but Naruto didn't seem bothered. When was the last time those two had even hung out together?

Gaara owned a business left to him by his father. He gave start-up capital to people and worked with them to turn their ideas into a thriving business—for a cut. This was the perk of being a rich kid with all the money in the family—he hadn't needed to work his way up that corporate ladder. Sakura didn't envy him anymore than she envied Sasuke, but sometimes she wondered what it would be like to make your own hours. She'd love that.

Maybe I should run my own surgery one day.

It sounded better the more she thought of it. She smiled at that as Naruto rambled on about how it would be so great to have Gaara back in his apartment. He'd insisted on taking him in again and inviting Sakura over.

Sakura agreed without thinking, lost in the reverie of her new inner revelation.

A few days later, she was making excuses to Sasuke, who didn't care anyway, and headed over to Naruto's. She didn't want to see Gaara. But she did. He was a good friend so why wouldn't she?

Her inner monologue continued on like this as she drove herself, oblivious to the edge she was teetering over.

Naruto answered the door when she knocked and quickly ushered her in. It turned out that he'd invited quite a number of people over to celebrate the redhead's return (any excuse for Naruto), and she suddenly felt underdressed. But when a certain set of jade eyes caught hers, she no longer cared. He was dressed casually as well and motioned for her to follow him as he left the crowd of boozing acquaintances of Naruto's and led her out onto the relatively quiet balcony.

"Hi," she breathed, when the door was closed behind her.

He smiled down at her, brushing hair out of her face and revelling in the fact that she was enjoying it. "Hi."

Inconsequential words were shared. A few lingering touches. Sakura kept her promise to herself to restrain from jumping him and he kept his promise to her to restrain from inappropriate touches.

But they so wanted to.

.:.

7) He suddenly needs a lot of privacy.

Sasuke spent more time alone than with Sakura. He had started answering his phone in the other room. He also closed his laptop when she came into his study to check on him. Even though he brought his work home, he still acted distant and secretive about what he was doing. She found herself confused by the hour long Zoom calls and his refusal to talk on the phone when she was in the room. It felt like she was living with a spy.

And after his promotion and strange changes in his behaviour, not to mention how his tastes had changed and their sex life had come to a standstill, Sakura was no longer going to ignore all the red flags.

This wasn't a relationship at all, and she was angry. Did he think she was stupid? Did he think she was so blind or in love with him that he could do anything to her, and she'd just happily go along with it?

Would I?

But the fear of losing him reined in her temper. She resorted to pretending to be asleep when the phone rang, and he waited for it to stop and then start again before climbing out of bed. He had been getting these calls on his mobile as well, but he didn't seem as annoyed by those ones.

Sakura waited for him to close the door and walk away from it before quietly getting out of bed.

She pressed her ear to the door and heard more snippets of a quick conversation before rushing back into bed to avoid getting caught. She was angrier than before and finally fed up with these games. Sakura intended to get to the bottom of this. But approaching Sasuke directly would accomplish nothing. He had a way of avoiding direct questions. She'd tried. And without hard evidence, he would just brush her aside.

She was tired of being brushed aside.

So, Sakura made a point of looking bored when he answered his phone. She made a point of lingering when he entered his pin to unlock said phone. She didn't look at him or it directly, just pretended to be dusting or talking with either Ino or Naruto on her phone to make Sasuke think she wasn't paying attention to him.

And the morning after she figured out his four-digit pin number, Sakura stole his mobile phone. She turned it off to keep him from using the landline to call it. He was in such a rush that he decided to just go the day without it—it wasn't his business phone, anyway. So, she accepted his cold lips against her cheek then called in sick to work to give herself some time to think and work this out.

Tentatively, she turned Sasuke's phone back on, knowing he would be too busy at work to bother calling it—and why would he? Her hand shook as she swiped at the screen and entered the pin number; her own smiling face stared up at her, alongside Sasuke's bored looking facade. They were his lock screen and wallpaper. It tugged at her heart and made her hesitate, but Sakura quickly pushed that aside and rifled through every text and call he'd had in the past months.

He got a lot of personal texts from women that Sakura recognised from that promotion party, but they seemed mostly one-sided. The contact that glared up at her was decidedly more intimate. She'd never seen the woman before, and the name was unfamiliar. But there she was, naked and winking at the camera; she'd sent a number of these texts to Sasuke and he'd replied… with similar images of himself. And both parties made promises to meet up. Texts marked after these dates talked about how much they enjoyed each other.

They were definitely having sex.

Sakura fought the tears but couldn't stop them. Her vision was slightly blurry as she read the sex texts and punished herself with every heart emoji and naked picture the two sent back and forth. Eventually, she threw the phone across the room where it broke against the wall and she struggled to get herself under control.

She'd been so subservient, a doormat; Sasuke could never have guessed she'd steal his phone and find the incriminating evidence of his cheating.

It didn't matter. The damage was done.

Sakura let out a sob and curled up on the bed. And for the first time in months, since she first suspected, Sakura finally broke down.

.:.

She had it out with him when he returned. What else was she going to do? But in the aftermath, there was suddenly only one thing that was clear: they were over. Sakura had done what she needed to do. She was devastated. But also relieved.

A deep, quiet rage had been building inside of her. But the dam wasn't broken, just cracked along the weak points, with water (tears) threatening to spill out from these spots. But she didn't want to break down. Not yet. Not until she was so far removed from her failed relationship that all she could see was black.

Sakura knew what she had to do. She was on a mission. After a few minutes of putting herself back together, she showered, dressed, and stormed out of the apartment. She remembered her anger and the conversation she'd had with Sasuke.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Sasuke?"

Sakura didn't trust herself to drive in this state, so she called a taxi and headed straight over to Naruto's. She stormed into the apartment; her eyes focused on her target. She didn't even notice the blond wasn't there. The hot, redhead sitting on the couch, headphones on and the C.O.D. controller in his hand stood and turned to face her entry. His jade eyes took in her form, the fierce look on her face, and blinked heavily. The door slammed behind her and Sakura stalked up to him.

"Sakura?"

He looked so concerned, so fearful, that she almost stopped. But it wasn't Gaara's feelings she'd come for.

Ignoring the light wetness on her cheeks, Sakura held a finger to his lips to stop him. His eyes widened and his Adam's apple bobbed. Her forwardness was turning him on.

"Shut up," she said. "Just shut up and fuck me."

His eyes searched hers and a quiet understanding passed between them. If he didn't fuck her now, he'd never get to. Something had happened to change things and she was determined to do this. Doing as she asked, Gaara kept his concerns to himself, ignored the complaints in chat, and met her halfway as she crashed her mouth against his.

He didn't have a chance to even turn the game off.

"I found your mobile," she'd said to Sasuke, throwing the broken phone at him.

Gaara moaned and wrapped his arms around her torso.

"What did you do to it?"

Sakura fumbled with his shirt before pushing her hands up under the hem and stroking his abdominal muscles.

"I broke it."

He trembled under her touch but eagerly responded by running his right hand along her hip before cupping her butt. His hardness pressed against her groin and they stood there, in the middle of the living room, just pressed against each other. Kissing. Groping. Moaning.

"You stole it."

A year of sexual tension came tumbling out of the secure hidey hole they'd both buried it in, for safe keeping.

"And you've been cheating on me." Sasuke fell silent at her accusation, the annoyed look on his face dropping when she let the cat out of the bag. He was busted.

Sakura tugged on Gaara's shirt and he followed her lead, moving to lie on the couch as she climbed on top of him; still kissing, still hungrily attached to each other. Now their hands moved to divest each other of their clothes. It wasn't slow or teasing. They didn't have the patience for that right now. Buttons broke, shirts ripped at the seams, and her knickers were torn beyond repair.

She gasped and pulled away long enough to give him an eyeful of her bare breasts; his eyes feasting on them as he cupped them, then trailed a hand down her flat stomach, and probing the soft curls between her legs. Still straddling him, Sakura dug her knees deeper into the couch and repositioned herself to get friction and heat between them.

There had always been heat between them.

There was a lot of screaming and she started throwing things at him. His things. Sasuke dodged them but said nothing, letting her anger roll over him and do what she'd intended. He looked devastated and lost.

Sakura swivelled her hips, sighing deeply as Gaara hardened under her ministrations. Not satisfied with the pace, she started stroking him, biting her lip when he threw his head back and let out a string of expletives before moaning out her name. She kept at it, not letting him get up when he clearly wanted to switch their positions and gripped him harder than necessary when his fingers found her sensitive spots in retaliation. He played with her body as she played with his, before, without an assent from him, Sakura held him in position before greedily lowering herself onto him.

She didn't hesitate to take what she wanted. And he didn't stop swearing as she engulfed him fully, moving above him immediately. She rose and fell, a little unbalanced until he gripped her hips to steady her. Sakura was trembling with excitement. This was really happening.

Her thoughts forgot her former lover as her new lover moved his body as best as he could, to keep in time with hers.

It was over. She wanted to forget him so desperately but couldn't stop the breaking of her heart and soul, even if she tried. Tears threatened to fall but she would not let him see her like that. There was one last thing she needed from him. The only question she wouldn't forgive him for not answering.

The redhead's hands moved from her hips when she had found and perfected her speed and movement, now tweaking one of her nipples and trying in vain to get her to lean forward so he could suckle the other. She kept her hands on his chest, using him for leverage; her eyes closed, her breathing deepening and becoming more ragged. If she opened her eyes for too long, the rise and fall obscured her vision; the tears had stopped a long time ago. She felt woozy. So much so, that when her energy started to wane, burning out her adrenaline, Sakura gave in and leaned forward, letting Gaara suckle away.

It sent a new fire through her body and she found herself riding him with renewed vigour. She couldn't hear her own screams, nor the cries of her breathless lover. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of their bodies pushing against each other. That all the tension from resisting him was melting away.

As Sakura lost track of how many times she's ground herself into him—of how many times he'd filled her so fucking fantastically before she rose and fell back down on him again—she also lost her mind.

She was coming. And she was coming hard.

"Why the fuck didn't you just tell me you wanted to be with someone else, Sasuke?"

She opened her eyes as her body convulsed; the coil curling and burning inside her. Jade eyes stared back at her, hungry and animalistic as he took her harder than she'd ever been taken before.

"Fuck!" Sasuke swore. "Because I still love you, god damn it!"

Sakura stilled as her body spasmed, coming around him. She couldn't maintain her equilibrium, falling forward to face plant onto Gaara's shoulder as he groaned into her ear, still thrusting. She didn't have long to dwell on the power behind her orgasm before the redhead was sweeping her into his own orgasmic euphoria.

Gaara.

It was always Gaara.

She was heading toward him the moment they'd met. The moment she'd seen his picture. Hell, probably the moment things were going wrong with Sasuke. She wasn't sure about the timeline, but it didn't matter.

Sasuke cheated first.

And according to Ino, virtual sex was still sex. So, nobody was innocent today. Except maybe Naruto—but only because he'd had no idea what was going on with his friends. Sakura sighed, trying to focus on the how Gaara felt inside of her as he started to soften. She didn't want to regret this, but there was still the matter of how they could even work together. She had a life here, in Konoha, and he was a big shot in Suna. But who's life would be upended by this, and was it even worth it to do so?

I'm getting ahead of myself.

Maybe Gaara had no intention of being anything other than fuck buddies. The thought made her heart clench and she had to remind herself of all the tender, thoughtful moments they'd shared over the past twelve months.

As she contemplated her future with this amazing man, his hand came up to languidly stroke her spine, his body trembling under hers as she shifted to look toward where he'd dropped his game controller and headset.

The game is still going.

The audio was still on.

.:.

#GaaSaku #Gaara x Sakura #Sakura x Gaara #fanfiction #my fanfiction

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hillnerd · 4 years

Note

Would you do #7 and #8 for Remadora, Hinny, and Romione? (Or just #7 if that's too many.)

7-What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?8- What do the like best about their partner?

REMADORA

7-What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?

Tonks is deeply annoyed by Remus’s self-loathing/tendency to run away/martyr complex. It’s his worst fault in their relationship and caused them both SO much frustration and grief. She is ok with self-deprecating humor and normal levels of humbleness- but it truly saddens her how little he seems to value himself and how he can’t quite get it through his skull how much she loves him and how valuable he is.

He is most annoyed by her relentless positivity about himHe feels she deflects and doesn’t take how “dangerous/bad-for-everyone” he is seriously enough. He is very ok with how she loves him so much despite his affliction/poverty/age and loves her sparkling sense of humor and positivity- but he will never be fully ok with people making light of his lycanthropy as he is deathly afraid of hurting someone due to recklessness/the recklessness of others.

Honestly, yes- I DO think they’d change it.They wouldn’t do away with these traits of their partner- but if they could alter it a bit they would.

8- What do the like best about their partner?

Remus admires Tonks’s infinite kindness/joy. She has a special spark in her that he finds so charming. She has boundless enthusiasm for everything– something he doesn’t have– and she is able to make him happier and forget his worries easier than anyone in the world. He of course admires her humor, her bravery, her skills, her looks etc. But that special spark she has? It’s everything to him. He hated himself when he thought he was responsible for dashing it (in HBP)- but thought long-term that’s what he’d do to her anyways- so hoped she’d gain it back eventually without him.

Tonks most admires Remus’s goodness. She likes so much about him: his humor, his intelligence, his looks, his bravery, his kindness and frankly what a gentleman he is– but the thing that makes her truly love him is that he is a very good man. He always strives to do right by everyone, even those who she thinks don’t deserve it– and he is just so deeply in love with that about him, even when it turns into self-destruction.

—-

HINNY

7-What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?

Ginny is most annoyed by Harry’s brooding/incommunicative ways She is fine giving him space when he needs it of course, but she hates it when he’s pouting and refusing to productively address things, or not communicating things that he should.

Harry is most annoyed by her cavalier nature around threats.He’s very protective of her and it really scares the crap out of him when she doesn’t keep herself safe. It’s rare she does this, but when she does it’s the kind of thing that will really make him go mad with worry, followed by incredibly angry at her for putting herself in that position then having the gall to shrug it off.

They both would DEFINITELY change it about the other if they could.She can enjoy a brooding sexy Harry as much as anyone- but he has GOT to check in with her and not act like he’s in everything alone.

8- What do the like best about their partner?

He likes her fiery spirit. She is so gung-ho in everything she does, and he loves that passionate spirit of hers- be it making him laugh, making love, defending people, or fighting along his side against some threat. She’s so daring and special to him.

She likes his compassion. His bravery is rooted in his deep compassion for others- he cares so deeply about saving everyone- and even does it in little things like being kind to Luna, Dobby and others. That’s what makes him so special to her. He cares so deeply for the welfare of others, and it makes her love him so much.

—

ROMIONE

7-What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?

Ron is most annoyed by Hermione’s inability to let something go. If she thinks she is right she can truly be relentless and sometimes even cruel. I think he’d like her to pick and choose the moments to do this better- because it’s a good thing that she is so tenacious and wants to right wrongs- it’s something he really loves about her! But he also hates it when she beats a dead horse and won’t stop nagging/throwing the same insults. He handles it better than others, but Harry puts up with it for like .05 seconds. :P She does get better at this over time, but it will always be a part of her.

Hermione is most annoyed by Ron’s dismissive tendencies/not taking certain things seriously– His ability to shirk off things and write things off bothers her deeply. She is a person who just CARES™ about EVERYTHING- and so when he doesn’t care as much as she that can drive her mad. She likes to be listened to, and he is probably the only human who TRULY sits and listens to her and actively engages with her- but if he just disengages completely and shuts her down/dismisses something as unimportant that she thinks is important (be it studying ahead, the topic of Snape being a git, or Harry’s potions book) she HATES it when he shrugs it off. Honestly, I think Hermione would love to make it where no one disagreed with her ever- but upon reflection would have to acknowledge, it’s good for her to be challenged, to have someone who gives alternate perspectives- and she really does love his way of thinking- even though much of the time she’s a real pill when ‘questioned.’

8- What do the like best about their partner?

Hermione most likes Ron’s caring nature. She just melts with how kind and sweet he is. When he’s fretting over other people’s wellbeing, showing compassion for muggleborns, performing loving gestures for people/elves etc. she immediately swoons. She of course loves how passionate, funny, smart and engaging he is– but she most loves his good heart. Later on seeing him being kind/good with the kids- that’s the one thing that can ALWAYS, and I mean ALWAYS bring her out of ‘the zone’ she gets in when concentrating on some project.

Ron most likes Hermione’s passion. He loves how much she CARES™ about EVERYTHING. Sure, this can get directed into stupid stuff where she gets all in a dither about something silly like her OWL results or him studying– but it also is what makes her so especially Hermione. Who the hell would care about Kreacher other than his Hermione? He will ruefully shake his head at her, but he genuinely loves that about her. He’s endlessly enthralled, amused, gobsmacked, and annoyed by her passion for everything- be it reading or elves or defending her friends. It’s what draws him to her- and how unpredictable it can be. He just never knows what she’ll suddenly get passionate about, and he can’t wait to find out what the next thing will be– he hopes it’s him that day– but even if she’s in the zone and not able to give him time, he loves that she is like that.

for the Send me a ship and a number and I’ll tell you

already asked- 1 11 17 Romione, 19 33 34 hinny, 4 45 Molly/Arthur , 7 &8 for Remadora, Hinny and Romione, Rarry 6, 7, 39

#long post #romione #hinny #remadora

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losille2000 · 4 years

Text

Hoot and Howl, Chapter 2

TITLE: Hoot and Howl CHAPTER NUMBER: 2/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 CHARACTERS: Actor!Chris Evans/OFC GENRE: Paranormal Romance (more on the magical realism side?) FIC SUMMARY: Chris goes on a camping trip to calm the noisy anxiety in his head, but it ends up leading him into his own messed up version of a Disney movie. When he said he wanted to be a Disney prince as a boy, this was absolutely not what he meant. Especially considering that the princess is also, well… about that… RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks to everyone for being awesome with the first chapter back. Enjoy this one. The OFC’s name is pronounced Nay-shaw.

Previous Chapter - Also available on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 2

Nascha stood over the bubbling concoction in her cauldron, closing her eyes to the steam rising and curling pleasantly around her chin and cheeks. She’d spent too much time outside in the forest last night, and her skin still felt tight from the cold weather. The soothing warmth was just what her body needed, though it was not enough to rejuvenate the stores of energy she had depleted during the exercise. She only hoped she could make it until the end of the month and her next scheduled volunteer visit to Boston. Falling off the wagon now was not an option. Not without a suitable replacement for her extremely specific needs.

A disgusted teenaged voice filled Nascha’s head then, drowning out her nagging thoughts. I hope you know I hate when you make that, Nae.

Nascha chuckled and glanced back at the fluffy feline lounging on the cat tree across the kitchen. The cat momentarily paused from painstakingly grooming her luxurious white fur—long enough to glare in accusation at the chuckling person.

It smells like dog breath, the voice continued.

“Well, yours smells like old tuna,” Nascha reminded, “so you have no place to talk.”

Ugh, whatever.

Ash loved her bored and disgusted teenaged one-liners. The cat could give any teenaged human a run for their money in that department, but there were certainly times when Nascha wished other people could hear it, too, just to understand the pain associated with listening to it all the time. Not that anyone would ever believe what they were hearing. They were more likely to check themselves into an institution than believe that it was possible for a cat to talk back to them. But cats did talk back. All animals did. They understood human languages just fine. The trouble was that Great Spirit had taken away the ability for the animals to respond in kind because of a terrible indiscretion long, long ago.

Or so the story went.

It didn’t really matter to her, because she still heard it. She heard all of it. The squirrels, the birds, the lizards and snakes… she heard them. This was her curse.

Nascha placed the large wooden spoon she’d been using into the ceramic holder on the stovetop, thinking once again how nice it was to have modern conveniences like electricity and gas to power her needs and keep a constant heat on her work. The ancient medicine woman who taught her this recipe while she’d still been living on the reservation had refused to cook it anywhere else but in a cauldron over an open fire. Maybe it ultimately changed the efficacy of the potion, not using the inherent energy of an open flame to create it, but Nascha was a modern witch. Modern witches innovated. After all, innovation was the only way she’d been able to survive off the reservation that had hidden her—and hurt her—for so long. She was pretty damn good at it all by now.

A soft electronic chime drew Nascha’s attention away from her thoughts. She reached for her cell phone on the opposite counter as a notification alert popped up on the screen. The motion sensor on her front door had detected some type of movement. Clicking over to the video capture, she saw an old beat up pickup barreling down the driveway at a speed almost too high to take the curve into the clearing where her house sat. She didn’t recognize the vehicle, but whoever was driving clearly had an emergent purpose.

She watched a moment longer as a very hairy and muddy man jumped out of the truck, reached inside, and withdrew a dog. Well, that explained the rushing in on a Sunday afternoon.

“Where’s Smoke?” Nascha asked Ash.

How should I know? Ash said.

“Will you please find him?”

Ash rolled over onto her back. If she had the ability to roll her eyes, she would have done that, too. He’s probably watching Star Wars again. Nerd.

“I have to sit with this for another minute or two,” Nascha said, motioning to the pot. She did not want to waste the ingredients she’d used by overcooking it. Getting the same ingredients would require a visit to a grocery store or the local occult shop; store-bought ingredients never adequately replaced those she picked herself during her nightly exercises. “Please go see what’s wrong.”

I hate going out there, Ash responded. Humans are all idiots.

“Ash…”

The cat stood up and stretched languidly, clearly unconcerned, like a senator at an impeachment trial.

Nascha grabbed the cat—carefully, of course—and set her on the ground. “I would like to remind you of our deal. I agree to feed you, catch small rodents for you, and let you sleep in a warm bed. In return you occasionally help me out around the clinic.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ash said, flicking her tail unhappily, but walking toward the door into the hallway. And if I don’t, you’ll turn me into a human. Blech.

“And don’t you forget it!” Nascha called as the door swung shut, even though Ash knew it to be an empty threat. No one, magical or not, could change another creature into something else unless they were born with the genetic ability to do that. Ash was as feline as they came, and she would stay that way until she used all her nine lives.

Nascha returned to her cauldron, but in her argument with Ash, she’d neglected it too long. It was now splitting and congealing into a gelatinous black goo giving off a putrid smell, not unlike a dog’s breath with periodontal disease. Just like Ash had said. She sighed heavily. “Well, so much for that.”

She grumbled to herself and pulled the cauldron off the heat to cool down before she could clean it out and start over. Smoke finally appeared in a feathery flurry, landing on his perch.

There’s a guy outside with a dog, Smoke intoned, but then made a chirping noise not native to an African Grey.

Nascha looked at him, “I thought you were watching a movie?”

Smoke bobbed his head and clicked his tongue before speaking aloud, “Alexa turn TV off.”

The house became more silent and Nascha looked at her other housemate. “Go tell them to wait. Ash is already out there.”

Was it wise to send her out? Smoke asked.

Nascha shrugged. “I’ll be right there.”

Smoke, who was quite a bit more dutiful than Ash, unless his favorite TV shows were on, immediately soared out of the room to take care of business. Nascha washed her hands and checked her appearance in a tiny mirror before she reached the door that led into the surgery suite. Ash sat there flicking her tail, annoyed and waiting to give a report.

“So?”

The idiot was attacked by a bear. Name’s Dodger.

“Thanks.” Nascha frowned, reaching for the waiting room door. A bear? Hardly looked like a bear attack from the video image. But he wasn’t the first patient to exaggerate how he’d been injured, and he wasn’t going to be the last. “Stay close in case I need you.”

Ash jumped onto the chair in the corner of the room and lifted her own paw to lick lightly. She didn’t care. And honestly, Ash wasn’t going to be much help anyway. Only the bipedal assistant that worked for Nascha Monday through Friday would be any help— seeing as it was Sunday, Nascha worked with what she had. Because she was innovative… not just as a witch, but as a veterinarian. Still, this emergency would be the first true test of her weekend “help.” She didn’t get a lot of emergencies out here in the middle of nowhere.

Nascha breathed in deeply and let it out as she opened the door to survey the situation before her. She swept her attention to the pathetic looking brown and white dog, the bloody rag around his paw, and the human male who looked completely beside himself. By way of introduction, she said, “I’m so sorry! I was in the middle of something that couldn’t be put down.”

The hairy, mud-caked man looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him. Even so, his spirit gave the room a frenetic energy like a geyser bubbling and about to blow. Everyone knew it was about to happen, could sense it, but it was the sickening anxiety and bated breath before the eruption that bothered her. She’d never felt it to this degree.

“My dog, he—”

She swooped into action, flicking her eyes down to Dodger. She hummed and reached for him. “Let me take him back and have a look.”

“Can’t I go back?” The man asked, reluctantly handing the dog over to her.

She cradled the dog to her chest; Dodger didn’t struggle as she spoke softly. “It’ll be okay, Dodger.”

Dodger looked up at her as he snuggled into her arms and said in the most delightful old-time Southern drawl, How y’all know my name?

“You look as white as a ghost,” Nascha said then to the man, ignoring the canine’s drawling voice. She got it. This dog very clearly meant a lot to the guy, but she had procedures. And her procedures included not giving someone a reason to call an institution when she started talking to animals. “You need to sit down and calm down. You’re not going to be any help to your dog or to me if you’re freaking us both out during an exam. Let me look at the injury and stop any active bleeding. Then we’ll talk.”

Nascha did not wait for approval and swept back into the surgery where she set Dodger down on the metal exam table. “Dodger, what’s your human’s name?”

Chris, he responded, big brown eyes meeting hers. Y’all really understand me, don’t ya?

She chuckled. “Yes, I do. Now. Were you really attacked by a bear?”

Dodger whined and shifted just enough to hold out his injured paw. It was terrible, Doc. He was fixin’ for a fight.

Nascha carefully unwrapped Dodger’s paw to find that the bleeding had stopped, and under all the mud, a long laceration across the side of the paw consistent with a tear of some kind originating from his dewclaw… but definitely not from a bear fang or claw. “If a bear had done this, you would have lost your paw.”

I’m tellin’ y’all. A huge brown one!

“Do I need to ask Chris?”

Dodger whined again. After some hesitation, he looked away and moaned forlornly. Fine! A fish jumped and smacked me in the face. I fell.

Nascha laughed. “And?”

I dunno. It happened when I fell off the rock into the river.

“Alright,” Nascha said. “Do you think it’s safe to call your human in?”

Nah, I reckon he’s ‘bout as useful as a screen door on a submarine right now.

She couldn’t hold in her laughter at his expression. How had a Southern dog gotten all the way up here to Massachusetts? His owner did not have the same slow drawl. In fact, he’d sounded distinctly Bostonian in the few words they’d exchanged in the waiting room. “How about I get it all cleaned up and stapled, then call him in?”

How can y’all understand me?

Nascha did not have time to explain the ins and outs of her abilities. Though this wound was not life threatening, it did need attention sooner rather than later. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Um… excuse me?”

Both she and Dodger froze, turning their attention to the doorway. The door remained closed, but judging from the voice, he was directly on the other side of it. “Yes?”

“May I please see my dog?”

Nascha exchanged a look with Dodger, who then laid back on the table, resigned to not getting an answer right away. “If you promise not to pass out.”

“I can handle a little blood,” he remarked as he stepped into the room.

She noticed, quite suddenly, that he took up a lot of physical space. More than she had realized out in the waiting room. He wasn’t overly tall, but at least six foot, he was taller than her. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. And he was a mess, covered in blood, mud and likely freezing. His brain, however, had not really noticed that last bit because he was so worried about his dog; she could still feel the turbulent energy rolling off him. He was in shock, or pretty near to it; now it was a matter of two patients, rather than one.

“The good news is that he’s fine,” she said. “Bad news is that I need to do major clean up and staple his leg.”

“Nothing broken? He’ll be okay?”

She nodded. “He tore his skin, mostly. Once I get it cleaned up, I’ll have a better picture of everything, but it otherwise seems fine. I can do a radiograph if you would like to make sure nothing’s broken. But from palpating it, I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. And Dodger didn’t complain.”

The man’s whole demeanor deflated. He crumpled onto the bench beside Ash, who had been as silent as a dormouse through the whole process. “Thank god. I thought—”

“I am also worried about you,” Nascha added, coming around the table to crouch down in front of him. She set a comforting hand on one of his he had rested on his knees, but instantly regretted the decision. Touching humans was always a risk for her. This was different, though. A different she couldn’t quite fathom. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look it,” she replied, securing her hold on him. He turned his palm up, grasping her fingers like they were a tether to reality. She noted that his were mostly soft hands—office worker hands—but there was a degree of roughness there that suggested he might have hobbies that took him away from a desk. His fingers were long, the nails bitten but not to the extent that they were horrible to look at. As a matter of fact, they looked like very pleasing hands and she had the brief irrational thought that they probably took great care of whomever he loved.

She’d held a lot of hands in her time, but most of those were gnarled and old, at the end of their journey when their owners asked her for assistance. His, in contrast, were vital. Alive. There was nothing sick or dying about him. Freezing cold from the elements, yes, but strong and alive, nonetheless.

Nascha wanted to hold on longer, not least of all because she now felt his frenzied energy oozing into her skin and up her arm, curling and mixing with what was left from her last trip to Boston.

It had been too long since she’d fed. The exercise in the woods last night had taken too much out of what little she had left. And he… he was potent.

She wanted to moan in delight as his energy began to fill the empty voids within her, but clamped her lips shut at the last second.

That would have been embarrassing.

The man released a shuddering breath and laugh-groaned when he looked down at himself, the tension releasing from his broad shoulders. Slowly, he turned his attention up to hers. Soft blue-gray eyes with the longest eyelashes blinked back at her. They were the kindest blue eyes she’d ever beheld. “I am a little cold.”

She finally succeeded in pulling her hand out of his, severing the connection, reluctant to let go. It would have been so easy to hold on for longer. The consequences of that, though? She shuddered at the thought. She’d made a promise to herself a long time ago to never take without asking—or being asked—first. Technically, she’d already broken it.

“How about a blanket, a fire, and some coffee? That is, if you feel comfortable enough sitting in my living room while I work on Dodger.”

Never mind that she did not feel comfortable with his intrusion. Having someone around meant she had to watch what she said and what she did. It was a mental load she wasn’t prepared to handle. Still, the words had come tumbling freely from her lips. She silently hoped he would decline and instead go back to the regular waiting room.

He surprised her by saying, “I would love it.”

Nascha eased back up to her full height, doing a quick mental survey of her living quarters. Had she left anything out from her work earlier that would be too difficult to explain? The cauldron was definitely an issue, but it was close enough to Halloween. She could explain it away as experimenting on something for decorations or a Haunted House or something, though she never decorated for the holiday because she didn’t celebrate it.

“Good. Let me put Dodger in a kennel and I’ll get you set up,” she finally said as she turned back to the dog.

Dodger yipped at her. I don’t need to be put away.

Nascha shook her head. “You’ll be fine for a little while, Dodger.”

No, I will not.

“He’s fine,” the man, Chris, said through a shaky laugh. “He hides out in his kennel back home when he wants to get away from me.”

Yankee traitor, Dodger mumbled.

“Does he want to, uh, get away from you a lot?” Nascha asked by way of conversation.

She began to scoop the canine back into her arms, but Chris held out a hand to stop her. “I can carry him.”

Nascha picked up Dodger anyway. “I’m stronger than I look…follow me.”

She pushed her way out of the exam room and into the back work area of her home. The previous owner—also a veterinarian—had built this addition on long ago to house his country practice. It consisted of one exam room, one clean room for surgeries, and a small lab equipped for only the most basic of pathology tests. The stainless-steel kennels lined one wall of the lab.

“You have a nice little setup back here,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied, not elaborating. She could say that the previous owner had given it to her as a gift, but then she’d have to explain why he had given it to her. And that would be impossible to explain without scaring the shit out of anyone. Even though Dodger’s owner had calmed down considerably since she had held his hand and siphoned off his frenzy, she did not want to create another problem that would bring the anxiety back.

She couldn’t be trusted to hold his hand again. Next time, she might not be able to let go.

Nascha turned her thoughts to the heavy animal in her arms. She cooed softly at Dodger as she placed the dog inside a clean kennel on top of a thin cushion. On top of him, she wrapped a large towel to help him conserve some warmth before she could get back. Dodger accepted her kindness by licking her wrist and letting out a heaving sigh. He didn’t say anything else.

“You’re sure he’ll be fine?” Chris asked as she closed the door.

“In two weeks, you won’t even know there was a problem,” she said. “Except for the hair that will still be growing back.”

“Okay,” he breathed out.

Nascha gave him a small smile that she hoped was comforting and set her hand on his back, in the middle of his flannel-covered shoulders. It was a familiar move she wouldn’t normally have made, but he seemed appreciative of it. Maybe she was, too, now that she could feel the hard sinew beneath the damp flannel covering his torso. Office worker hands or not, the man clearly did many physical things with his body.

“How about we get you warm now?” she asked.

He nodded and shivered. It was enough of an answer for her, as she motioned for him to follow her down the hallway toward the living portion of the house.

#chris evans #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fan fic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #rpf #hoot and howl

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thewildheroine · 5 years

Text

Fly Away |Part Thirty-Three|

Warnings: Abuse mentions, coma, severe injury, minor gore, near death, nightmares

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: Ok so this is literally my favorite chapter that I’ve ever written. I just love it a lot. Like... fnjbejkwbjkfbk it just makes me happy. I hope you guys enjoy it just as much as I did and if you like it please reblog loves!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

(OH! and a lot of old dialogue/lines were brought back in this chapter. (; )

|Masterlist|

She suffered from severe laceration all over her body, the majority on her back, eight broken ribs, a broken collarbone, a dislocated shoulder, a concussion, a puncture wound just below her right hip, a deep stab wound that caused internal bleeding, a collapsed lung, and a bruising along her spine.

The woman pauses. I don’t know who she is, but Stephen keeps calling her Christine. She sounds like a doctor from the way she speaks. If I astral projected I could see if I was right. I don’t want to use magic right now. All I want to do is sleep.

Our scans haven’t shown any serious or long-lasting damage to her brain but we won’t know for sure until she wakes up. She taps her foot on the floor, considering what to say next. Stephen, can I speak to you alone? I hadn’t known there was anyone else here with us. The other person doesn’t speak, doesn’t grunt or disagree. Whoever it is just stands and leaves.

Once they’re gone and the door shuts the woman begins speaking again.

I understand that magic and spell-casting is your line of work Stephen —

The mystical arts.

I scoff to myself.

—but you’re bringing kids into it now? She’s sixteen!

I’m not the one who brought her into it in the first place, Christine! Stephen yells back. I pray no one hears them. It was her piece of shit father who forced her to do this when she was a toddler. I only wanted to protect her and I…

His voice trails off, but I know what he was going to say next. I failed. That was going to be the next word. Failed. After that summary of my injuries, I might be tempted to believe it.

I’m sorry Stephen. I didn’t—

It’s okay, he reassures her . I just—I wanted to keep her safe even when I didn’t actually care. When I found her she was a nuisance but she was my responsibility. Now she’s still my responsibility and she’s definitely still a nuisance, I chuckle in response, but she’s special. Now when I actually do care and she’s hurt I—I feel like…

I feel the faintest sensation of a rough, scarred hand covering my own. The energy around it is pained… sad. I frown and try to grab it back. No matter how much I will it though my fingers refuse to move.

Like my heart has been ripped out of my chest.

She’ll be okay Stephen, Christine reassures him. She’s going to wake up.

There’s silence. I will my mouth to move while there is a chance for me to be heard, but my lips stay locked together, unable to open.

She won’t forgive me though, he tells her. I tried to save her. I sacrificed myself so she could get out, and yet she still ended up hurt. Her body will heal, but what about her mind? Y/N’s father had already hurt her so much. What will this do to her?

If she’s anything like you, she touches my other hand, then the pain will allow her the opportunity to grow.

Stephen doesn’t reply to Christine’s encouragement. Instead, his other hand wraps around mine. Christine’s fingers pull away from me and I listen as she crosses the hospital room, stopping at the doorway.

Don’t stay too long, okay Stephen?

He says nothing. The door shuts with a soft thud, leaving the two of us alone.

I think I hear him sob.

Stephen had left a long time ago. At least it felt like it did. He left and the other person who was here with me never came back. By the lack of noise, I assume it must be night time. Just like when I came back home.

Being in this state, a coma they said, it feels like I’m sitting outside my own mind, blind and only able to hear. I know I’m still apart of my body, but it just doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m floating. Like I’m rising higher and higher without any fear of the consequences. I can’t seem to remember what it’s like to be one with myself.

At least I can sleep.

I’m falling.

The sun hangs above me, calling for me to come back. I don’t reach out though. My arms stay locked to my side and I keep falling.

I wonder when I’m going to hit the ground. Each sound makes me flinch, but the impact never comes. Soon enough I’m more annoyed by the dream than frightened. I’m falling. The sun is shouting. I never meet the earth below.

I feel my hair around my face, resisting gravity and pulling upward. My dress does the same. It’s the same dress I wore during the press conference.

I had done things, said things, that I wasn’t proud of. Even. Now I’m working to accept that some of what I did wasn’t my fault.

My father’s face flashes in front of my face.

Whatever you do, it will be influenced by me, by the experiences you’ve had because of me.

“Stop it,” I beg softly.

You’ll never escape my hold. I’ll always be a nagging voice in your head, one that you will listen to.

“Please…”

I’ll always be a part of you, Y/N.

“Stop it!” I reassert. He’s still there.

You can’t kill me in any way that matters.

“STOP!”

I find myself staring in the mirror sometimes and listing off all of the things I hate about myself until I’m saying things that aren’t even real or just flat out don’t fucking matter at the end of the day.

I’m falling.

My arms feel a little looser, but I still can’t reach out for the sun. The ground does not come to claim me.

I’ve never done this. Goodbyes I mean. I never had the chance to. My mother died before hello, my father disappeared without leaving so much as a note, and people have left my life before I could even find a way to care enough to say goodbye.

I want to stop falling.

It’s you guys or me. My magic or the end I fear more than anything else. Your end. The end of everyone I love.

I just want to sleep.

This is the story of how I come to the end of myself.

Let me touch the sun.

Thank you for loving me in all the ways I never thought a person could and then loving me more. I may have found my end, but thank you for making it a good one.

The sun.

This was the story of how I came to the end of myself. I am the Icarus… And I have loved the sun far too deeply not to burn for it.

I only want to touch the sun.

But I’m falling.

It enhances her in ways she doesn’t even understand yet.

Green flashes in front of my eyes, tinting the gold sun.

I’m saying Y/N would be our only hope.

I can move my hands.

It has always been a part of her and we have absolutely no right to remove it from her without her wanting it too.

Feeling returns to my forearms.

Your magic which enhanced the time stone.

I roll my shoulders.

Your magic was a gift from destiny itself and by fusing the time stone with it you were able to gain full access to its powers.

I reach towards the sun.

Your magic is your soul, and as long as you’re alive your soul will want to come home.

And I finally meet the ground.

I don’t want to sleep anymore.

There’s the sudden rustling of plastic as someone enters my room. The monitor next to me beeps consistently.

Like always, I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my own body. No one except for Christine has been coming in lately. She talks to me like I’m going to miraculously open my mouth and reply. She tells me the time, luckily, as well as the weather, the news. She even tells me who is coming in to see me. That’s how I know it’s Tony who walks through the door.

I listen as he walks to my bedside and places something down. He paces the perimeter of my room for a moment before finally settling in the creeky chair designated for me. Maybe they think it will wake me up sooner.

I brought you flowers, he tells me. A sort of weird tradition to me since they die so quickly. Little ironic for a hospital. Not that I’m saying you’re going to die. You’re too stubborn for that. He speaks like he’s distracted, but I guess he usually is. His fingers tap against a machine by my head.

You know, I’m sort of hoping you can’t hear any of this, Tony says. Rhodey says he didn’t hear my whole coma speech while he was out and neither did Happy. Knowing you, you probably will remember this for some reason.

There’s a lull as though he’s finally taking a moment to take in my appearance. The chair creaks.

Why?

I roll my eyes. “I’m pretty sure you guys already had this discussion.”

I get why you saved us and the Earth because of the whole hero thing. That I can understand. But why did you trust us, Y/N?

Oh.

You had no reason to, he continues. You’re father… he practically tortured you. You were abused mentally, verbally and physically. You were abandoned and used over and over again. He came back only to taunt you. There was no reason for you to trust any of us. After what happened to you people might say it was dumb of you to trust us. Yet you did.

I smile. “Yet I did,” I reply.

We didn’t do much to deserve it.

“Neither did I.”

We kidnapped you from school, tossed you in Bruce’s lab and let Strange deal with you.

I laugh.

What I’m trying to say is sorry.

“Don’t.”

I’m sorry for dragging you into this.

“Stop it, Tony.”

Maybe if we just let you live your life you wouldn’t be here in need of a coma monologue.

“You’re right.” I wish he could hear me. “I might’ve ended up somewhere worse.”

I’m also saying thank you, Y/N, Tony says. I know you were never one for trust. Trusting adults at least. Why should you have been though? What with your father. But I want you to know that I have never felt so much genuine pleasure as I did when I realized you trusted me. You had no reason to. I pulled you from the life you knew, I forced that stupid fucking bracelet on you, I forced you into being an Avenger, but you trusted me. So wake up. Someday just wake up so I can yell at you for drinking too much coffee and tease you for kissing Peter. Just wake up, and I promise I will show you I am worth trusting.

The chair creaks again, telling me he got up. I have a press conference today. Since you messed with time we went back to a couple of days after your interview and everyone is making me handle the news. I listen as he walks back towards the door, stops, walks back towards me and ruffles my hair.

“Really?” I chide angrily.

Have fun in your coma, Y/N. He opens the door to leave again. I’ll see you later.

I’m falling.

The part where I hit the ground is coming up.

I reach for the sky, but this time I land on something cold. It’s freezing in fact. Tilting my head to the side, I look to see where I am. Below me is a rippling black mass. I jolt and try to push myself, but the tar of Dormammu’s hand is holding me down. All I can do is stare up and into his neon purple eyes.

But they’re not purple.

They’re the color of my father’s.

His gaze is sharp and unyielding. He glares down at me like I’m a worthless ant that happened below his foot.

When will you realize this single lesson Y/N? You are not the hero of this story. You are the Icarus. You yearned for the light and warmth the sun provided you with after never having seen it. Y/N, you were destined to fall at some point. We all are. This hope you harbor within yourself was just the catalyst to your own destruction.

I sob weakly as the darkness begins to pull me in. “Just let me touch the sun.”

You’re worthless, he tells me.

“The sun.”

You were born worthless, the tar wraps over my mouth and I’m suddenly tugged under, and you will die worthless.

Hey Blue. His voice pulls me out of the darkness.

Peter.

Sorry for not staying long yesterday, he says. So he was the other person in my room. After your doctor asked me to leave I went to go check on everyone. Then I wanted to swing around the city.

“You were distracting yourself,” I reply, even though he can’t hear me. Even though I can’t open my mouth.

I may have been trying to distract myself.

I laugh.

You know when you left me at Kamar-taj, guilt shoots through me, I thought you were gonna come back a lot quicker. I thought I was gonna open my eyes and boom, you’d be standing in front of me looking victorious. Like you’d just conquered the world. Like you had just saved the world.

The chair creaks. I hear something sounding like a backpack full of books hit the floor.

Cause that's what you did. You saved us all. You killed Dormammu. You turned back time, he exclaims. You were the hero…

But you don't look like you've won, he whispers. You —you—

Something sounding like choking comes from where Peter is sitting.

You just look hurt, Y/N. His hand finds mine. I just want to hold it back. I just want to hold his hand. You're so pale and there are so many cuts. How did you get so many cuts?

“It's okay Peter.”

I feel so helpless, Y/N, he confesses. There's nothing I can do to help you and I'm supposed to be Spider-Man. I'm supposed to save people, so why couldn't I save you?

“I had to save myself, Peter.” He squeezes my hand hard. I hold back my wince “I had to be my own hero in this story.”

I don’t want to tell you to wake up, he says. You deserve to sleep, Y/N. After all you’ve been through. You deserve the chance to really rest for once. You have suffered more than I can ever comprehend. All you’ve been through, all you’ve done is a testament to how strong you had to be. For once you don’t have to be strong anymore. You can sleep.

If you are somehow awake in there though, he continues, then I want to say this at least. The day you left, you told me you loved me. I never said it back. I feel a familiar pair of lips on my own. They’re so soft. Softer than the day I left. I want to kiss him back but I stay locked to the bed, unmoving, unresponsive. He stays close even when we break apart so I can feel his breath on my skin.

I love you, Y/N L/N, he proclaims. You’re my hero and I love you for that and so much more.

Beeping suddenly fills the room, though it’s not from the monitor. Peter’s presence over me disappears and I’m left cold on the hospital bed.

I have to go now, he informs me, but I want you to know you can stay asleep for as long as you need to Y/N. You deserve to sleep. You deserve the damn universe, but if all you want is to sleep then you sleep. Just remember that whenever you wake up I’ll be around. You could sleep a thousand years and I would find a way to be with you when you wake up. Maybe try to aim for the tomorrow though.

Then Peter’s gone

And I’m falling again.

Every time I have this dream or see these visions there’s always something different. Every time something changes.

This time I’m not falling.

I’m running.

I’m running on air. Running straight down towards the ground. Oblivion. I can’t help but wonder what happens when I meet the ground. I hear the feral sound of Dormammu above me, his hand chasing me down. The planets are falling in on Earth, destroying everything.

I keep running.

People have been coming in the past couple of days. My friends, the Avengers. At least I think they have been. They weren’t loud enough and their presence didn’t make the dream end. Now I can’t stop running. The dream won’t end because I can’t reach the ground and I certainly won’t touch the sun. Dormammu might catch me first.

I remember the feeling of my ribs breaking. The memory makes me collapse. All the pain at that moment is surreal and the dream slows to match my new pace: a weak crawl.

Hey Y/N. Stephen.

“Wake me up,” I beg to him. He can’t hear me though. No one can. I am silent.

I always pitied people who would try talking to those they loved while they were in a coma, he tells me. The chair creaks. I keep crawling from death. It seemed so desperate to me. Last resort. Congratulations Y/N. You’ve managed to bring me to the last resort. I don’t know where to start though…

I feel my collarbone snap. The scream that tears itself out of my throat brings with it blood. Too much blood.

I used to have a sister you know? God, she was nearly as stubborn as you. Nearly. She’s the reason I became a doctor. She did pass away though.

“Stephen.” I try to force my mouth to move. I try to force my fingers to flex or my eyes to flutter. My body remains paralyzed on the bed though.

I feel my dad’s kick to my stomach.

My sister got sick, and she depended on me to save her, but I couldn’t. You’re a lot like her. That same glow in your eyes, the same humor, the compassion, but there is the smallest difference in your persistence.

My fingers are beginning to bleed from clawing at the air. Every breath is like being stabbed. I feel the force of an explosion throw me onto the side, the fire singing my skin. I keep crawling. Dormammu lets out another monstrous scream.

My sister wouldn’t give up on me, Stephen continues. You, Y/N? You never ever give up on yourself. You’re so strong.

“I don’t want to be strong anymore,” I whimper.

There hasn’t been a day where the universe hasn’t wanted to run you six feet under. Every day there is a new struggle. Every day the same villains come back to haunt you. But you’re so damn stubborn. Even when you seem to be gone, even when you believe you’ve given up on yourself, you’re still fighting. You refuse to lay down and beg for mercy. You want to have faith. You want to be the hero. You want to live.

My hands stop clawing at the air. I stop feeling pain. Dormammu’s hand stops chasing me. The dream stops.

“I want to live.”

That’s what’s so special about you. I’ve never met someone who wants to live as much as you. Even when you’re walking towards death itself, I start moving towards the ground again, you’re clinging to life. You’ve always had your hands around it. In your sixteen years of life, you’ve become the greatest treasure death can hope to possess. The pain in my chest fades away. You lay your life on the line, but you always hope for the great escape.

I can breathe again

Don’t stop being stubborn now.

I stand.

Don’t let death creep up on you. If you find that you can’t be stubborn anymore, let me be stubborn for you. Let me remind you that you are the most heroic, persistent, compassionate, and complex person I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.

I turn towards Dormammu.

Let me promise you that you won’t be waking up for nothing.

I wait and listen.

Stark and I, we have an idea, Stephen tells me. I want to take you under my wing Y/N. I want you to be a real prodigy. My prodigy. I can take you to Kamar-taj and teach you everything I can.

I spread my arms out. Deep inside I can feel my magic humming in preparation.

With me becoming the Sorcerer Supreme, Wong suggested something to me. It’s only a suggestion. If you’d accept, we- I would like you to be Guardian. It’s an old practice. The role hasn’t been used for hundreds of years, but I think you would be worth bringing it back for.

I smile up at Dormammu.

Then one day, you would take my place.

My feet disconnect from the air, and I fall backward.

I can hear the heart rate monitor. I can hear the shrill beep that announces I’m flatlining. I can hear Stephen shout my name, I can hear the doctors rush in but most of all I hear the wind. It bursts past my face, shooting through my hair and curling around my finger tips.

“Running just seems to be all I’m good at.”

The wind is magic. It’s my magic. It’s mine to bend and shape and enhance. The wind is mine to use. All I need is wings.

“Hey, Y/N, you are an incredible person and I know that running away can’t be all-”

“But I am good at it. That’s what you’re saying, right Vera? That hey, you can do magic and shit pretty well but yeah, you are pretty good at running.”

The ground is coming closer. Stephen is still screaming at me to get up. I will. I will get up.

As he said, I want to live.

“I had the choice to run away right then and there. You knew I had my sling ring on me but I stayed.”

“Why?”

“Because I am so fucking sick of running.”

Finally, I turn my head to the sky. I look past Dormammu, past the falling planets and I see the sun. I raise my hand towards it.

I had a moment to learn how to crawl...

A familiar weight collects on my back. One that I’ve missed dearly.

...A second to walk...

My magic hums excitedly in my fingers. It’s ready. I’m ready.

...A minute to begin running...

It’s time for me to stop running away from the sun. This entire time I’ve been falling away from it. All this time I’ve only been reaching for it as I let myself come closer and closer to the ground. Now I know what I need to do.

I unfurl my blue wings. The wind bends around them, pushing past the feathers and magic within them.

...All without falling…

Everything is screaming around me. Dormammu, the planets, the heart monitor, Stephen, my magic, the wind. Everything is screaming except for me. I am the center of the hurricane.

...Before I forced myself to jump…

I want to live.

...And fly away.

My wings snap against the wind, pulling away from the ground and towards the sky. Everything in between doesn’t matter. It is only the ground, the sun, and me. Everything else disintegrates. Dormammu, the planets, the scream. It’s just me flying towards the sun, basking in the warmth it is offering.

I pound my wings harder and harder, the exhilaration of finally feeling it on my fingers motivating me to go higher faster. It is so close. Close enough for me to feel it in my heart, filling my veins. The sun is home. It is what I fell for and it is what I will rise for.

This is the story of how I only came to the beginning of myself.

I am the Icarus…

And I have loved the sun far too deeply not to fly for it.

“Y/N!” That is the very first thing I hear as I’m waking up. Then a beep. Just one for a moment. Then another and another until the noise has turned consistent.

My fingers clench around the covers, squeezing the blankets.

I can move.

I sigh, more thankful than I’ve ever been and start opening my eyes.

At first, it is only light. Bright white light that makes me wince and turn my head away. There’s something on my face, around my nose and mouth. I don’t pay much attention to it for now. I’m too focused on feeling. Something in my chest aches horribly. Like someone lit it on fire for the past minute just to see what would happen. The rest of my body hurts, but not in that way. Everything else feels much number. The pain in my stomach, my collar bone, my head. It all just pulses faintly. A small reminder of all that’s happened.

Then there’s a hand on my own, scarred and ruined and familiar. I try to smile despite the stinging in my face where I must’ve gotten cut by debris. It hurts but I think I succeed in making the corners of my lips turn upwards.

“Y/N?” Stephen asks this time as though he needs to check that I am, in fact, alive. I turn my hand over and squeeze his fingers.

Opening my eyes again I look up. The light is still there but it isn’t as bright as before. I can finally see that the thing on my face is a resuscitation mask and the burning sensation was from the defibrillator on the metal table.

I look at Stephen last. He’s staring at me, just staring. It looks like he’s watching a ghost.

Fearfully, I look down at my hands to make sure I’m actually connected to my body and not floating around in my astral form.

When I’m positive that I’m really here I reach up with my free hand to pull off the mask. Stephen sees what I intend to do before I do it. He pulls it off for me instead and places it on the metal table.

I blink my eyes hard to try and get rid of the blurriness that almost feels stiff. Nothing feels right. Everything is just a little warped. Not much but enough for me to notice. My eyes feel useless.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Stephen reassures, capturing my attention again. “It’s going to take a bit before you get your bearings. Just stay calm.”

I nod, my head feeling like a ton of bricks. I try to come up with something to say. Something that might relieve the tension. There are still doctors standing around, making sure I don’t die again.

“Well,” I croak, my voice rough from not being used for so long, “that was horrible.”

A/N: I’m going to begin cross-posting Fly Away as well as my other stories on @thewildheroine-archives

For anyone who would like to not wait for me to upload the rest, the other chapters are already on my Ao3. Thank you for taking the time to read. Please comment what you thought or reblog.

If you’d like to be tagged let me know :)

Tag List

@jadepc / @paigeyisme / @unlikelygalaxygiver / @lubrielx / @why-am-i-here-again-shitheads / @nexitye / @akarah-sommah / @literally-just-for-fanfics / @dizzy--izzy / @artofotherness / @georgiiamat / @asianromelle / @prancingdestiel / @bands-and-shietz / @the-fandom-ness / @anise-d-castle6 / @purplecactl / @mummy-woves-you / @saturn-aka-six / @alilblogger / @star-gaziing / @southsidespidey / @hansbrak / @sincereleygmg / @taegukgis / @rachelscosplay

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athyrabunlord · 7 years

Text

Daydream [VI] Hanamaru & Ruby

Reminder: This is based off of Daydream Warrior and this fanart I did Warning: Profanity, violence and sex. Ships: You>Chika>Kanan>Riko>?; with mentions of YouMari & KanaMari, and implied DiaYoshi & Maruby Words: 2,823 [concept doodle]

[I. Mari] [II. Chika] [III. Yohane] [IV. Kanan] [V. Dia] [VI. Hanamaru & Ruby] [VII. You] [VIII. Riko] [IX. ???]

VI. Hanamaru & Ruby

“But I want to go back” “To that day, the day we met” “My one wish goes ungranted”

“You’re not asleep, are you?”

You’s arm remained draped over her closed eyes. She felt the weight of someone sitting down beside her head as well as the pleasant floral scent that always seemed to accompany the speaker. She refused to budge from where she was sprawled on her back across the bench with her legs dangling over the edge.

A quiet sigh, though there was a hint of exasperated fondness. “Still, don’t sleep here in the open, you might get sick.”

You’s lips twitched in humor. “Isn’t there a saying that says bakas don’t get sick?”

She grinned behind her arm when the newcomer playfully ruffled her hair. “Don’t call yourself a baka, silly.”

“Hey! You’re messing up my hair!”

“It’s already messy to begin with though?”

“How mean,” You growled and sat up abruptly, batting the hand away from her head. She chuckled at the startled squeal and laughed even more so when the other girl punched her arm. “That’s weak, y’know.”

Another punch, this time more forceful, though nothing compared to the fist fights she was used to. Even then, she rubbed at her abused arm and whined. “Ow~! I’m gonna have a bruise tomorrow.”

“Baka…”

“Ah, so I really am a baka?”

Okay, she deserved that pinch, but her bandaged cheek was still sore from the brawl yesterday and she couldn’t suppress the urge to flinch. The same hand then gently caressed the injured area, as if apologizing for inflicting further pain. She closed her eyes briefly to relish the sensation before opening her eyes and turning to face her companion at last.

“Hey.”

“Hey you.” Amber eyes were filled with concern as the burgundy-haired girl lightly brushed her thumb over the bandage. “Why do you always get into fights-?”

“Now now, I don’t start them. Trouble comes looking for me, not the other way around,” You smiled wryly as she slouched in her seat. “They’re not that bad, and overall it’s good exercise, Riko-chan.”

“No, it’s not. One of these days you’ll get really hurt, and I don’t want that.” Riko said sternly, her fingers curling near You’s cheek as if threatening to pinch it again.

You backed away and pouted. “I know I know. Geez, you and Chika-chan won’t ever stop nagging at me, will you? Be proud, I stopped the fight before it got too bad, and came here to rest.”

“I see. Good, there’s improvement at least.”

Airily, Riko straightened and pulled out a familiar sketchbook from her bag. She ignored You’s questioning gaze and began to doodle the scenery. You’s blue eyes swept over the park, noting the few people strolling along the path, a kid playing with his dog over there, some flying their kites beyond the pond, and an old couple seated at a nearby bench and simply enjoying the nice weather. Everything seemed so picturesque, the tranquil atmosphere so good that it almost felt fake, especially compared to the frequent fights she’s gotten herself involved in.

Nevertheless, this wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at all. She could get used to such peace.

She listened to the quiet scratching sounds of the pencil as Riko sketched, smiling at the occasional pauses when the latter wasn’t pleased with the lighting or the composition.

“You’re not mad me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Aha, you are mad at me,” You peered at her friend and scooted closer. In response, Riko scooted away and resumed drawing like she wasn’t even here. Pouting again, You repeated her action and received the same reaction. The cycle continued until Riko was barely seated at the edge of the bench.

Huffing, she set down her sketchbook and scowled at the grinning You. “What?”

“Finally made you look at me.”

Riko raised an eyebrow and exhaled deeply. “Look, I’m not mad at you. Like I said, I’m just worried. Stop getting into fights so often. Chika-chan’s worried, Kanan-chan too.”

You rolled her eyes. “I can handle myself. Kanan should know that better than either of you.”

“Just promise us… promise me, okay?”

It was really difficult to say no, not under such pair of piercing, pretty eyes. You shrugged, holding her arms akimbo. “Alright! I’ll try to stay out of trouble. In exchange though, I wanna see this!”

Before Riko could react, You snatched the sketchbook out of her lap and flipped through the pages. She hummed in appreciation at the detailed drawings, some still life and some of animals. The recent pages, however, were filled with portraits of a ponytailed girl. Jogging, stretching, napping, drinking a bottle of water, or just smiling at the viewer.

Snickering, You wasn’t surprised to see Riko’s face turning beet red. “Does Kanan know?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t make this any less embarrassing. Can I have it back already?”

Taking pity on the blushing girl, You held out the sketchbook and chuckled again when Riko hugged it protectively against her chest. Silence fell upon them for a while, long enough for You to shuffle uncertainly. Was that too much teasing?

Just as she was about to apologize, Riko spoke up in a muffled voice. “Do you believe in true love, You-chan?”

For some reason, the question stung her more than any physical injury ever did. She immediately thought of a mikan-haired girl and her beautiful smile. This thought alone pained her just as much as it made her happy. Self-conscious, she scratched the back of her hair and mumbled. “… yeah, I do.”

Riko giggled at her response. The soft sound tickled inside her heart, yet she didn’t feel insulted or annoyed.

“Why do you ask anyway? You’re the happy couple, not me.”

“Just curious, that’s all.”

“Riko-chan…”

“It’s true, I just wanted to know your thoughts.”

You folded her arms, trying to read the soft smile on Riko’s visage. Was that bliss? Would she look like that too, if Chika were to accept her feelings? But that wouldn’t ever be possible, would it? After all, Chika loved someone else, someone who was also her friend.

And that person happened to be Riko’s girlfriend as well.

“Okay, now that you know, what’re you going to do?”

Riko turned away and looked into the sky, not smiling but not frowning either. Her whispered reply drifted with the breeze, so quiescent that You almost didn’t catch it.

“I’m going to set things right.”

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

“Don’t fall asleep here, you’ll get sick.”

You grunted but did not move to acknowledge the speaker. Her arm was draped over her face, shielding her closed eyes from the sunlight as she remained sprawled on her back across the bench. Her mind was a mess, chaotic even long after she had left the hospital. She’s wandered back to the park and found herself reminiscing her time with Riko.

Truth be told, she missed chatting with Riko. She didn’t remember what happened after that, though she did recall avoiding her since that puzzling conversation.

Why though?

You gritted her teeth and turned to her side, resting her arm against the cool and rough surface of the bench’s backrest. Ah, she didn’t want to be prodded about her feelings for Chika or talk about love, as subtle as Riko had been. Sometimes, You admired how Chika and Riko remained good friends under such circumstances, while she and Kanan…

Deep exhale. She clenched her fist and tried to ignore the throbbing pain from her wounds. That Dia may have cleaned and bandaged them, but her words had torn open something more painful. Perhaps she should go back to Chika now, as she promised she would. She couldn’t find her phone, which was prolly broken and still back at Chika’s place, and that was the excuse she kept telling herself to delay facing Chika again.

Again, she recalled Riko’s soft smile when the latter spoke of true love. How could Matsuura fucking Kanan betray her? Dragged Chika into this?

Someone to share your joy and pain, someone to talk to… someone to hug.

Only Mari understood You. She didn’t want to see either Chika or Riko. She wanted to see Mari at this moment, desperately so. In spite of whatever Mari had with Kanan, You still wanted to be with her. It wasn’t just about screwing each other senseless, or just having someone period. No, it wasn’t something as paltry as sex.

It was so much more than that, You was certain of it.

Her thoughts were rudely jostled out of her mind when petite hands pushed her further along the bench to make room. You’s legs dangled awkwardly over the edge while her face was uncomfortably squashed between her arm and the backrest. Growling in annoyance, she sat up and glared down at the short brunette and her pigtailed friend.

“What the fuck?”

“Language please,” Hanamaru was unfazed, her thick novel open in her lap. She didn’t even glance in You’s direction. “You were in my seat, so I moved you.”

You pulled back her fist, fully intending to at least punch the spot beside the girl’s shoulder to scare her. She stopped in mid-motion however, when her glare found Ruby’s green eyes. They were unnerving, emotionless and severe.

It was the same way Dia looked at her, back in the hospital.

Deep breath. In and out. In and out. You clenched her eyes shut and slouched in her seat. The tense silence was intermittently interrupted by the rustling sound of Hanamaru flipping the pages of her book. She should just leave and save herself from this inexplicable stress, but her pride refused to give in. Why should she get out of the way? She was here first!

“… there are so many other benches available, why this one?” You looked around the park, noting the lack of passersby, empty benches and the dried up pond.

“I always read my book with Ruby-chan here, and I don’t intend to change that,” Hanamaru’s gaze remained fixated on the novel’s small print. Ruby appeared to be reading over her friend’s shoulder as well.

“A stubborn one, aren’t you?”

“Not as much as you, You-san.”

“Ha! You think you know me?” She angrily recalled their encounter days ago, also here at the park. “What, you want me to wake up? Is that it?”

The brunette shrugged, her voice flat with nonchalance. It was clear that she didn’t give a fuck. “Awake, asleep, daydreaming, does that matter? You remain the same no matter what. Why do I even try?”

Again, You was seized by the violent urge to hurt the smaller girl. Not out of desire to cause her pain, but rather to solicit some sort of emotion out of her and her friend. Any other girls would have fled or screamed in fear if You were to glare at them like this, but not these two. It wasn’t as if You enjoyed terrifying younger girls, but such reaction would have been normal at least.

Hanamaru and Ruby’s lack of expected response was unsettling.

You covered her face and chuckled sardonically. Did she just wish for normality? What a fucking joke! She thrived in chaos. Only in bloody fistfights did she feel alive. Peace? What peace? She will never know peace.

It was not meant for her. Fact.

“What’s that book? Is it really that interesting?”

“Oh it is. Riko-san recommended it to us. We would like to finish it.”

You pursed her lips, unsurprised by their acquaintance of the artist. They came to the park often enough, they might have even bonded over common interests. Literature was a form of art too. Riko used to mention her friend Dia preferring classic literature, while her other friend enjoyed fantasy and in particularly the occult.

Right. Yohane and Riko were good friends, and that was how she came to know the eccentric gothic girl.

“Where’s your friend?”

Neither Hanamaru nor Ruby answered her.

“I was looking for her.”

Hanamaru turned a page, her expression unreadable as able. “Then keep looking.”

“Smartass,” You rubbed her chin. “Odd, I swore you used to speak in an odd accent or dialect of some sort, at least around her. Yohane-chan I mean.”

“Is that so?” There was an indiscernible tremor in her voice.

“Yup. Well, I don’t give a shit how you speak, just pointing it out.”

Silence again.

“How about you?” She shifted her attention to the pigtailed girl. “Say something. You mute or what?”

Ruby blinked and stared at her with those disturbingly blank eyes again. Her lips remained sealed.

“You are mute then.”

Ruby returned her gaze back to the book.

“No seriously, I was looking for your friend. She was talking to me but then she disappeared out of the blue-”

The book was slammed shut so abruptly that it made a cringe-worthy thud. There was something ugly and abhorrent in Hanamaru’s brown eyes. It was fleeting, but the intensity of such emotion had You tense defensively.

“Dia-san is with Yoshiko-chan.”

Ruby started trembling so Hanamaru gently held her hands, the gesture so drastically different than her vicious glare towards the older girl.

“Yo…shiko?” You was distinctly aware of her own heart pounding within her ribcage, like a trapped beast frantically trying to break free. Yohane… Yoshiko… Tsushima Yoshiko?

“Yoshiko-chan is still in a coma,” Hanamaru whispered darkly. “So perhaps you’ve been hallucinating, or you just have a sick sense of humor. Whatever it is, please stop it. It’s just us left now, Ruby-chan and I. The moment you even attempt to hurt Ruby-chan, I swear you will be begging for death the moment I’m done with you.”

Such savage words sounded so uncharacteristic and outlandish from a petite girl, let alone someone like Hanamaru. Yohane’s friend was usually smiling, playfully berating the gothic girl’s antics and cuddling Ruby.

That Hanamaru would never hurt a fly. The brunette here though would follow through with her threat, word for word.

You felt sick.

Back at the warehouse, back in the hallways of the hospital, and countless other times, she has been talking to thin air? But Yohane had replied to her. Or was it her own conscience, taking the form of the girl she considered trustworthy?

“Onee-chan is wholly devoted to Yoshiko-chan now.”

Both Hanamaru and You’s eyes widened as they looked at Ruby, whose expression was serene and somehow that sent a chill down You’s limbs.

“I loved her, you know? Yoshiko-chan. But I’ve been useless and I’m scared of facing her again,” Ruby was smiling. “Maru-chan too. Maru-chan loved Onee-chan, ne?”

Hanamaru cringed, her carefully controlled expression crumbling to that of pain. “That’s-”

“It’s okay. I know. That’s from before. We have each other now and that’s all that matters,” Ruby held up the brunette’s hand and interlaced their fingers, the gesture full of tenderness that it inexplicably frightened You even more. “Even then, I still wish we could go back, back to the way everything used to be.”

“That’s the one wish I cannot help you with, Ruby-chan,” Hanamaru pulled her hand away, her eyes churning with raw emotions. “Like what Kanan-chan said, it’s just a nightmare, one that none of us can ever wake up from.”

Ruby nodded slowly, her lips pressed in a thin line while her expression returned to that unnerving, vacant one like before.

It took a moment for You to realize she was covered in cold sweat. She wiped at her damp brow with her forearm and almost tripped in her haste to stand up.

“I-I’m going to g-go see Riko-chan. She… She can help me, yeah. She always has.”

Hanamaru stared at her coolly and gestured at the trees on the other side of the field. “We just went to see her. She’s over there.”

You staggered away as fast as her failing legs could bring her. She knew there was a hidden entrance to the park in that direction. She didn’t usually take this path, as it was covered with undergrowth which made it annoying to walk through. However she used to be familiar with the area, as it granted its visitors privacy and a natural veil of filtered lights from the canopy tops. Riko loved sketching here.

And this is where I…

She stumbled out of the woods and found the small gate that faced the intersection of a busy street. Gasping for breaths, she stood still and stared at the ponytailed girl crouched beside the dilapidated fence.

Kanan was holding a bouquet of roses, tears sliding down her cheeks and raining upon a withered wreath against the corner. She gingerly placed the bouquet beside a photo frame, her lips moving with whispered words.

You found it excruciating to breathe, her heart aching like someone had clenched it tight in their grip.

Kanan stood up listlessly and looked at You with dead eyes.

“I’m going to set things right.”

#athyra writes #Daydream Warrior AU #youriko maruby #but also diamaru yoshiruby kanariko I suppose #gawd this story is so messed up sometimes I wonder why I even...#XD;;;;#but hey at least #climax coming up!#3 more fragments to go!#I had to rewrite this one several times ~_~#just to get the tone right #in the end settled with this mirror image 030/#cuz of the maruby bridge from the song #but yeah I had this in my draft since July #loool uncertain about uploading it #but since I’m on vacation #*tosses this #just so I have so original content/fanwork here #schedule upload

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codename-bewareofthefangirl · 7 years

Note

What kind of older siblings are GoM, Nijimura, Haizaki, Momoi, Riko, and Ogiwara?? Headcanons?

Hi dear! This was more difficult than I thought! There’re some of them I really can’t picture as big brothers so I’vecome up with less headcanons (Murasakibara for example)! However it was really funny and I tried my best! I believe I’ll probably like Aomine or Kuroko as my big brothers! And you?

I hope you’re going to enjoy it!

The Gom,Nijimura, Haizaki, Ogiwara, Riko, Momoi Older Brother/SisterHeadcanons

Aomine Daiki

-The brother that wants to be cool. He’s good at playingwith you and joking around, especially if he realizes you look up at him.Compliment him and he’s probably going to do whatever you want.

-However, he needs his space and gets annoyed easily. He likes to tease youand annoys you in his free time. Don’t worry, you get to tease him too and hegets flustered easily.

-He’s not the most interactive or attentive brother; sometimes, growing up,you only greet each other and don’t speak for days; however he’s veryprotective. He’s the only one who can mock you.

-He can be serious and if he realizes you have a problem (if, because he’sdense) he’s going to try and listen to you. It’s very awkward for both of yousince usually you don’t have serious talks, but he tries at least.

-He’s going to teach you how to play basketball and it doesn’t matter ifyou aren’t good, you have to learn.

-He’s painfully blunt. About everything. But at least you can trust him.

-Sometimes, he’s the one who asks you help with homework.

-You have a lot of stupid, heated fights, for nearly everything, but youboth get over it quickly. Usually you just shout, insults in particular, ortackle each other.

-He’s going to check on your crush, if he discovers you have one, and ifyou have a lover, he’s going to intimidate them with the typical “I’ll breakyour arms if you make her suffer” warning.

Kise Ryouta

-Over-doting brother. He loves you deeply, spoils you, teaches youeverything he knows (from cooking to playing basket) and he’s over-protective.

-He have photos and photos of you and likes to brag about how special youare and how much you love him to his friend. He comes to every formal orspecial occasion and to pick you up at night when you go out. He’s the onecheering out loud at competitions.

-Yes, if you try to shut him up, he’s going to ignore you and he canbe…overwhelming? And embarrassing. But you know he just cares a lot.

-He helps you picking out your outfit and styling your hair any time youwant. (And he checks on what you buy to be sure you’re presentable)

-He brings you with him to the photoshoots when he can, but he’s not sureif he wants to try making you a model like him (if you are interested) becausehe knows it can be a toxic world. He brings you back clothes and accessoriesfor you.

-Every gesture of affection from you makes him happy like a hyped Chihuahua

-Kise has also a teasing and petty side, that emerges in particular when youplay at something. He riles you up and he’s determined to remain the one who’sbest at everything. Hella competitive, but he says it’s to strengthen you.(tbh, he’s just childish)

-One movie night together per month is a must. He pesters you for it. He needshis alone time with you, being comfy and happy and relaxed.

-All the people you’ve dated or tried to date are deeply terrified by him.They still have nightmares.

Midorima Shintarou

I have already written something in this post about him and his littlesister! Here: codename-bewareofthefangirl.tumblr.com/post/160382391180/do-you-have-any-headcanons-on-midorins-sister

Murasakibara Atsushi

-The spoiling brother. You two team up against your parents when you needit. Low-key protective.

-He’s also a huge tease and loves to annoys you. Then he searches forforgiveness by bribing you with food, cuddles or other things you want.

-He tutors you and checks your homework, but only if you ask him or whenyou’re not looking.

-However, the most responsible one is you and sometimes you have literallyto babysit him. He bashes into your care. Persuading him to do his share ofhouse chores is the hardest mission ever.

-Every year, for your birthday he bakes a different cake.

-You often nap together on the couch or bake sweets in your free time.

Kuroko Tetsuya

-Quiet, responsible brother. He doesn’t bother you nor he’sover-protective, but he waits for you to take the first step towards him if youneed something and he respects your privacy. He looks over you in silence, wecould say.

-He’s very gentle and kind. The sort of inspiring brother that you can notrespect. Just by being at his side, you feel a lot calmer and relaxed; hedoesn’t mind your company and let you stay in his room when you’re stressedwhile he does his homework or reads something.

-You share equally the house-related responsibilities, doing differenthouse chores. He doesn’t know at all how to use the wash machine. It drives himcrazy.

-Everyone rely on you to find him, as it seems you’re unaffected by hisghostlike ability.

-He’s the first one you search when you have to talk. He prepares you a cupof tea and he listens to your problems and worries on the couch; then he givesyou advices or helps you figure out the solution on your own. With you he’svery…mature and cool, usually?

-But your fights are petty: you both use obstinate silence as a weapon andhe can be veeeery revengeful, especially if you’re in the wrong. Like that onetime he put a frog in your bed because you ruined the book he had bought. Andthe worst is that it’s impossible to incriminate him: he’s a master of evilnessif he wants. He has never been punished once by your parents.

-He lets you sleep in his bed if you want but only if you promise to notmock his bedhead the next morning.

-Awfully good cuddler. When you were little, he read out fables for you.

-He still gives you a small peck on the forehead before going to bed.

Akashi Seijuurou

-Strict but caring brother. He’s constantly divided by the need to spoilyou and the one to raise you well. He wants you to be a proper, responsible,refined and caring person, who, at the same time, knows how to enjoy life andfeels loved.

-He checks on your studies and homework, not accepting that you slack off,but helping you with whatever you need. He doesn’t mind spending hoursexplaining things that for him are easy and he’s very patient. A good teacher,all in all.

-He’s the one to ground you if you misbehave or do something wrong. After along, strict preach.

-He doesn’t know how to control himself when it’s your birthday or a festivity.He wants to celebrate in grand style and nothing can stop him. Gifts,extravagant trips, expensive dinners…

-He expects you to do your best, but he always reassures you that you’refine even if you’re not the number one. The important thing is that you workhard and do everything you can. (He can be the best at everything for the bothof you)

-He likes to play the piano or the violin for you, to help you sleep orrelax. He treasures immensely the time you spend together.

-You can often surprise him looking fondly at you.

-He sucks at giving you suggestions on how to socialize. He tries, reallyhard, but he’s too awkward, without realizing, and can lack common sense.

-He’s extremely overjoyed when you go to watch his matches, even if hedoesn’t say/show it.

-His team is required to treat you like a prince/princess.

-He’s extremely protective, even with your father. He doesn’t want him toruin your life or “corrupt” you.

Ogiwara Shigehiro

-As I already said, he’s more a Mom than a big brother. He’s theresponsible and caring one that takes care of everything in the house. Heprepares you the bento and takes you to school, he comes to pick you up whenyou stay out late at night or after your part-time job…

-He does most of the house chores, but gets very mad if you don’t do theones you’re supposed to. He can be nagging and always inquires about grades,love life, friends…

-He likes to hang out with you on the weekends, bringing you somewherefunny: the amusement park, the aquarium, out camping, the mall…

-He can brighten your mood quicker than anyone else. His sunshine smile ishighly contagious and he can read you well: if he understands somethinghappened, first he comforts you and then he asks if you wanna talk. But healways respects your privacy in these occasions.

-Since he never stops moving, at night, he usually faints on the couch fromexhaustion and you have to drag him to bed in a sleepy state.

-He loves PDA and he always ruffles your hair, especially if you whineabout it afterwards.

Haizaki Shougo (I don’tparticularly like him, but I’ve tried to find something nice to say)

-The big brother that likes to be the older (reminding it to you often) andwants to be respected. Sorry for you, you have to be the responsible one and doeverything in the house.

-He likes to teach you “the way of life” and bringing you out at night withhis friends to “have fun”.

-He’s usually disinterest in your life, but deep down he remains yourbrother and he’s gonna smack some sense into you if you do something stupid.

-He has the decency not to bring his lovers at home anymore (once you wereat home too but he didn’t notice and you remained shocked; he even apologized)

-He told you to focus on your studies, since you’re smarter and canprobably do something good with your life. Instead, he has more than onepart-time job to help you and the family.

Nijimura Shuuzou

-another strict but caring brother; he’s short tempered and gets annoyedeasily when he’s at home (since he can be himself) and can be brash in his wayto show you affection.

-His punishment are harsher than your parents’. Don’t make him mad forreal.

-Don’t mess with him while he’s studying. He’s going to painfully tortureyou. Aaaaand he likes to tickle you to death.

-You fight both physically and by shouting; the entire neighborhood always knowswhen you two are arguing.

-He likes being the one you talk to, ready to give suggestions or pushingyou on the right path. He’s patient and considers your problems seriously. Veryinspirational.

-He feels the pressure of being the “replace for you dad”, who is inhospital. He tries his best, really, but he’s just a teenager. He tenses upoften and you can see when he’s torturing himself over something. In thosecases, laughing with you is a good way to relax. It’s not easy to make himsmile, but he enjoys even a simple movie on the couch together or coming homeand finding dinner prepared by you.

-He tries to take all the heavy responsibilities on his shoulders, sosometimes you have to scold him for it.

-Every week you go together to visit your father.

-He sucks at cooking, please help him. He can mess up while preparing atea.

Riko Aida

-Strict, tough, inspiring sister. She’s more like a mom sometimes andhandles the house. Obviously she’s not going to let you slack off: you have todo your share.

-Riko treats you with sweets or ice-cream when you get a good grade orachieve something. Or just if she’s in the mood and wants to make you happy.

-She helps you studying and does the laundry, but you prepare the bento anddinner for both. And for your father, who can’t cook like Riko. You’re the onewho keeps them for starving.

-Sometimes you take a bath together like when you were little. You’re okaywith seeing each other naked and when you’re home alone you don’t mind walkingaround with just a t-shirt nor entering in the bathroom/bedroom withoutknocking. You behave when your father is at home.

-She tackles you when she’s mad and often you two resolve things with bruteforce. She’s the one who taught you how to fight. She keeps you in perfectshape.

-Even if Riko is sheepish about it, she asks you advices for being morefeminine or cute sometimes. She feels better when you help her, but remind hershe’s perfect like she is. You help her especially with clothes andaccessories.

Momoi Satsuki

-The hyped, over-caring sister! She adores you and loves spending time withyou!

-You often hang out together, going shopping or hitting cute cafés. She’sthe one in charge of your outfit and your style, making sure you look the best.

-She knows everything about you, everything. Don’t make her made, she hasenough blackmailing material to ruin your life. Twice. And she can be socunning and sly that when she gets her revenge, not only it’s impossible toincriminate her, but it’s unexpected and devastating

-If the argument is not serious she’s just going to pout. And whiny. Andbeing a little pest.

-She loves taking videos and photos of you or of the two of you together.Obviously she loves posting them on socials, but she has also secret albumswith cute and funny photos only for herself. Momoi likes looking at them whenshe’s feeling a bit down or in a particularly sweet mood.

-You cook for both, since she can’t prepare a cup of tea without breakingthe microwave.

-She’s needy and whiny, begging for PDA and incapable to restrain herselfin public. Hugs, kisses on the cheeks, patting heads…

-MOMOI NEEDS TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE, OKAY?! EVERYTHING.She doesn’t accept “buts” and plays the best Cupid she can for you, even ifyou’d prefer her not.

-“Privacy? What does it mean?”

-Aomine treats you like his little sister too. He’s the only one who canunderstand your pain when Momoi is being over excited/whiny or who hasexperienced her anger.

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darkwing-katy · 7 years

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Second Chance - Part Four

I will never be able to get over the responses I’ve been getting to this story. If I could, I would hug all of you for your comments, your messages, all of it. I’ve decided I’m gonna try to make Sundays update days, so I have enough time to work on each next chunk the way I really want to, and then so @sannvers has enough time to proofread them. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you like chunk four! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 6,405

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress overs you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord @elenawrit @the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy

Previous Chapter

“Rise and shine!” you sang, balancing a new silver tray in one hand as you opened the cell door. You were unusually perky this morning despite not sleeping well—no doubt due to the delicious fresh coffee you’d gotten from the kitchen. You’d thought about finding Belle, but decided to go ahead and make sure Gaston was alright after his first official night in the cell.

Okay, so maybe you were feeling a bit guilty about the fact that you were sleeping in a lush bed while he had only a cold stone floor. He may deserve it, but knowing that only made you feel a little better.

Which was why you had gotten up at sunrise to visit him. Yes, you definitely aren’t visiting him so early because you’re still crushing on him, the little voice in your head nagged. You ignored it.

Gaston was on the opposite side of the cell in almost the same position you’d left him in, with his head and back against the stone wall and his legs sticking straight out. The only differences were that his arms were crossed against his chest and his jacket had remained off, although you saw that he’d put his vest back on. The peaceful expression you’d seen yesterday was back, and you smiled to yourself at the sight.

At the sound of your voice, he stirred, opening his eyes. He tilted his head to look up at you, the smirk already on his lips. You entered the cell as he stretched his arms upwards, working out the stiffness with a slight wince. “Someone had a good night’s sleep,” he winked, “dreaming about me, no doubt.”

“You wish,” you replied, setting the tray down. I wish. “Brought you some food.”

“How thoughtful of you.” You rolled your eyes at the sarcastic remark and began to gather the dishes of yesterday on the other tray. “It’s nice to see that someone still cares.”

“I don’t know if I would go that far,” you muttered, knowing that it was a lie. Once you’d gotten everything together, you turned to leave.

“What, you’re not going to stay?”

You spun around, only a step away from the door, taking care not to drop anything. Do you want me to? “And why should I?” you asked, keeping your voice casual.

The smirk grew into a wolfish grin. “Because a man like me always enjoys the company of a beautiful woman like you.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. No wonder Belle got annoyed by him. If this is how every single conversation between him and her started, I have no clue how she didn’t just smack him upside that stupid head of his. When you opened your eyes, you forced a flirty smile onto your lips. “Unfortunately, I have better things to occupy my time with right now.” Like what? It hasn’t even been an hour since sunrise! What could you possibly have to do besides spend time with the man you’ve daydreamed about? your inner voice screamed at you.

“Such as?”

You stepped backwards onto the staircase. “Anything and everything that doesn’t include talking to you,” you said sweetly, kicking the door shut with your feet.

Gaston rolled his eyes. “You can’t fool me. You’ll be back.” You ignored him, instead continuing to take your leave. “Try not to miss me too much!”

“Don’t worry; I won’t!” you called back. You heard his laughter echo down the stairs after you.

Despite the fact that Belle had given you and Maurice a proper tour yesterday afternoon, you really only remembered the locations of four rooms (other than Gaston’s cell, of course): your bedroom, the grand ballroom, the dining area, and the library. The idea of returning to sleep held no appeal for you, nor did you feel hungry yet. You wanted to go back to the ballroom, but felt like that would be odd, to go there by yourself just to be there. That left the library.

You entered the room and were struck once more with awe at the sheer size of it. Beautifully carved shelves towered far above your head, holding rows upon rows of equally beautiful books. Candelabras of gold were scattered about, unlit but ready to assist anyone who wished to read in the darkness of night. Tables and desks were littered with books, opened and unopened. You let your hand trail against the top of a table. As your hand traced along the polished wood, it brushed up against a book. You inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of paper to fill your nostrils. You exhaled and grinned.

So many books to choose from!

“I see you’re also a book lover,” a deep voice came from above you.

You jumped, looking up to find the source of the voice. Prince Adam stood on one of the balconies, bathed completely in the gold sunlight. The sight reminded you of the golden Agathe.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He leaned against the balcony rail to better see you.

“It’s alright,” you replied, embarrassed that he’d made you jump. You wondered whether you needed to curtsy, but chose not to when you saw that Adam wore casual attire—a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and navy pants. He didn’t even have any shoes on. “I was just admiring your collection. There’s a lot to choose from here.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine laugh. “Yes, there is,” he agreed. “You’re up earlier than I expected anyone to be.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I could say the same about you.”

He laughed again. “Fair enough.” He stood back into his upright position, holding his arms out. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt the sunlight on my skin,” he admitted, “so I woke early to come here and watch the sunrise.”

You leaned against the nearest table. “How was it?”

He shrugged. “A little cold at first. I’ll have to get used to not having a thick layer of fur keeping me warm anymore.” He cocked his head to the side, his gaze now focused on the bannister. “But it was wonderful,” he said quietly.

You smiled at his sincerity. It must be so strange to be a beast for so long and then become human again. I can’t even imagine how he must feel right now. I wonder what I’d miss the most…

Adam clapped his hands together, pulling you out of your musing. “So! What are you looking to read on this fine morning?” He released his hands, indicating the library in an overly grand gesture. “I know where everything is, so if there’s something in particular you’d like, I can tell you where to find it.”

You thought for a moment, unsure of what you wanted to read. Adam must’ve picked up on your hesitation, because he spoke again:

“I know Belle is fond of Shakespeare. Would you like that?”

You snorted. “As long as it’s not that stupid Romeo and Juliet that she’s been obsessed with.”

Adam doubled over in laughter. “Oh, finally, someone with good taste,” he replied, his voice full of mirth. “Have you read it?”

You rolled your eyes and sat on the table. “No. She’s been trying to convince me to give it a chance, but it just doesn’t sound appealing. It’s a three-day squabble that ends with six people—including the main characters!—dead, all because of a supposed ‘love at first sight’.” You scoffed. “She cried the first time she finished it, you know?”

Adam grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”

You swung your legs back and forth. “We were both sitting on a hill, reading, and all of a sudden I hear her sniffling. The next thing I knew, she was crying and blubbering about the fact that both Romeo and Juliet were dead, and they’d been so close to having their happy ending.” Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a tiny bit; Belle hadn’t blubbered per se, but she had shed a few tears. “Talk about ridiculous. Who would just kill themselves because they thought their loved one was dead?”

The prince sat down, allowing his legs to dangle through the railing. “I agree wholeheartedly, but that’s funny, coming from you.”

You frowned at him. “Why?”

He cocked his head. “You convinced an enchantress to send you back in time to risk your life and save the man you loved after you watched him die.” You felt your face heart up. Well, when you put it that way… “Wouldn’t you say that’s a tad hypocritical of you?”

You pursed your lips. “Fine. Yes. You have a good point,” you muttered, turning your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him. You could still feel his eyes on the back of your head. “Where’s Belle, anyway?” you asked, hoping that he’d take the bait and allow the subject to change.

He did, although you sensed that he knew exactly what you were doing. “Still asleep, I believe.”

You nodded. There was a short pause between the two of you, neither of you knowing how to continue the conversation or if you even should. Before the silence could stretch out too long, you found yourself blurting, “Did she ever tell you how we met?”

“No,” Adam replied, a little too eagerly, you thought. He obviously didn’t know how to proceed in this situation, either. But you supposed that would happen to someone who’d been locked in his own castle for years with only servants to talk to.

You thought back to that day. It was easy to remember. “I’d just moved to Villenueve a few days before. I was on my own, and had mostly kept to myself while I settled in. But one day I’d had enough of staying indoors, so I went to town.” You found yourself mentally reliving that day, and an unconscious grin formed on your face. “I noticed this man in a tan jacket was not-so-secretly following after a woman in a blue dress. I wasn’t sure if she’d noticed him, so I just meandered up to her.” You moved your arms in an imitation of walking. “‘Bonjour!’” You chirped, giving a small wave to an imaginary Belle. “She looked at me with a smile, although I could tell that it was more out of politeness than anything else. I leaned in close enough to whisper, ‘I know that we’re complete strangers, but I felt inclined to tell you that there’s a man following you.’”

You sighed, an imitation of Belle’s reaction to your words. “She looked at me and whispered back, ‘For someone who considers himself a master hunter, he’s very obvious, isn’t he?’ And then the two of us started laughing, and we introduced ourselves and the rest is history.” You patted a closed book next to you. “I was so excited to find another girl who loves to read. My impression of Villenueve was that it was that the people were small-minded in regards to women’s roles, so Belle gave me an escape from that. It worked both ways, actually.” Your legs had stopped swinging at some point during your tale, and now you sat on the table, unmoving. “From that day on, I tried my best to be a buffer between her and Gaston. I really have no clue how successful I was, even now. He’s a persistent man who’s as stubborn as he is vain.” Your words reminded you of the fact that at this moment, the very man you were talking about lay trapped in a cell, and you felt the grin slip off your face.

Adam absorbed your words without interrupting, but now that you were done, he spoke. “I’m glad she had a friend like you to help—not that she needs help.” You glanced at the prince, who was leaning his head against the bannister. He was right about that. She was a fiercely independent woman, and she didn’t need you to help out with Gaston’s advances, but you also knew that she appreciated it nonetheless.

The silence between you two resumed, and you hopped off the table to begin your search for a good book.

Adam didn’t offer assistance, and you spared him another glance before turning to the nearest shelf. He seemed lost in thought, and you hoped he wasn’t thinking about Gaston being in the castle. It suddenly occurred to you that Gaston attempting to kill him could be construed as treason, and he could very easily demand death as punishment. You doubted that he would (or that Belle would even allow such a thing), but you found that a nasty little minnow of fear had begun to swim around in your stomach at the realization.

What if I saved him only for him to be put to death?

A familiar title caught your eye and you pulled the book out—Hamlet. You’d read it once before, but it had been a while. You pulled the book from its place, noticing that Romeo and Juliet was few books down. You shook your head. You’d found the Shakespeare section, it seemed.

“What does Belle like?” Adam suddenly asked. You took a few steps back in order to see him properly. “As in gifts. What would she like as a gift?” If you hadn’t known he was a prince, you wouldn’t have guessed it from the hesitant way he asked. It was cute, actually.

You pondered his question for a minute before the perfect answer came to you. “Paper and things to sketch with.”

Adam raised a questioning eyebrow.

“She likes to design inventions,” you explained. “I can’t tell you how many times I’d sit in her house, watching Maurice tinker with his music boxes, and Belle would be sitting across from me, a pen and paper in hand, drawing up her latest idea.”

Adam nodded in agreement. “Excellent.” He jumped to his feet. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, but stay as long as you like.” He smiled at you before climbing down the stairs that led up to the balcony.

“Bye!” you called after him. He gave you a wave, then was gone. You shook your head, amused. “I guarantee you that he’s going to get as much paper as he possibly can,” you said out loud. The books gave no response, but you smiled as if they had and found a chair to sit in.

Scene I. Elsinore. A Platform Before The Castle. FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO.

Bernardo: Who’s there?

Francisco: Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself!

You made yourself comfortable. It was going to be a good day.

“I knew you’d be back,” Gaston said smugly, shifting to see you better as you opened the door.

“Oh, shut up.” On the tray was more tea and water, as well as bread and a bowl of hot soup that you were trying very hard not to spill as you carried it into the cell. You carefully set the tray on the ground, then grabbed the small stool and pulled it so that you were across from Gaston but still able to lean against the wall. You attempted to find a comfortable position before finally deciding on crossing your legs and your arms. Once you were settled, you faced him.

He ignored you, immediately grabbing the bowl of soup and gulping it down. You wondered if he was actually that hungry or if he was doing it to make you uncomfortable on purpose. I’m honestly not sure which I’d prefer, you thought, frowning.

While he ate (still ignoring you), you studied him. His movements were as confident as always, but there was a slight stiffness that you saw whenever he moved his upper torso. Probably because of all the bruises. And sleeping on the floor. He shifted against the wall, brushing his left shoulder, and he grimaced into the bowl.

The guilt you’d felt that morning returned with a vengeance. Maybe I should bring him a blanket. Or a pillow. Or both. I’m the one responsible for him, right? Surely Adam wouldn’t object to that. You made a mental promise to find a simple pillow and bring it when you brought dinner.

Well, he obviously wasn’t going to say anything anytime soon. He’d finished the soup and was now tearing into the fresh loaf of bread. You reached into your apron and pulled out Hamlet, figuring that you could get a few pages read while he ate.

Hamlet: To be or not to be; that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks—

“What are you doing?” You’d only gotten a few lines read when Gaston decided to speak. You were pretty certain that he’d waited to say anything on purpose just to annoy you.

You held up the book in response, not bothering with a verbal reply.

“Seriously? You’d rather read than enjoy my wonderful company?” He actually sounded offended, like you were being rude to him instead of it being the other way around.

You continued to ignore him, keeping your eyes on the page.

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub—

You heard Gaston moving, but forced yourself to move on to the next sentence, assuming that he was just stretching.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come—

The sound of boots on the stone floor distracted you. You glanced up to see Gaston standing, somehow managing to radiate pomposity despite his injuries and having been in a cell for two days. A twinge of concern sounded in your mind, and you considered the idea that you were sitting away from the exit. It would be so easy for him to just run, you thought. He could slip through the door and be gone and there would be nothing I could do about it. Oh, you could try to stop him, and you would try, but you knew that in the end, he would win.

He rotated his shoulders, the grimace returning as he did so. There was a soft crack as his shoulders went up then down. You winced at the sound, which he noticed with an eyebrow raise and smirk. He took a step towards you, and your eyes inadvertently flicked to the door, betraying your concern. He paused, allowing himself to consider the door. The tension surged as you waited for him to try for escape.

He looked back at you, almost as if daring you to try and stop him. You tensed, ready to jump up, but to your confusion, he started chuckling. “Don’t worry. Even I know that escaping would not be in my best interests.” He turned and sauntered over to you, stopping to rest against the curved wall next to you. “Not that you’d be able to stop me, but you know that, don’t you?” He leaned down, and you could feel the heat from his body as it drew closer to yours. He still smelled of faint gunpowder and beer, but now you could smell sweat mixed in as well. He needs a bath. With a groan of frustration, you dropped your book into your lap and shoved his shoulders, pushing his face away from yours.

“Can you give me some space? I’m afraid your arrogance might rub off on me. And you stink.”

He allowed you to push him back, but only a little. He resumed his upright position, leaning on the wall, but now he turned to his right so that his full body was facing you. With you seated and him being so tall, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that his crotch was almost eye-level to you.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, (Y/N), don’t you dare, don’t you DARE NO DON’T LOOK KEEP STARING AT THE PAGE JUST LOOK AT THE PAGE AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT

With great effort, you kept your eyes on the book, although your brain was too busy shouting at you to comprehend the words. In order to maintain the appearance that you were unbothered by Gaston’s posturing, you turned the page, despite not finishing Hamlet’s soliloquy.

Hamlet: No, not I; I never gave you aught.

Ophelia: My honour’d lord, you know right well you did; And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed As made the things more rich: their perfume lost

Gaston shifted, no doubt trying to get you to look at him. You clenched the edges of the book, hoping that it would help you focus. It didn’t. Don’t fall for it. Just keep reading, (Y/N). Oh, merde, this is harder than I thought it’d be. Maybe just a peek—NO DON’T GO THERE! NOT AN OPTION!

“Are you just going to read the whole time you’re here?”

You exhaled deeply, still fighting the urge to glance at him. “I was planning on it,” you replied.

Silence. Then, “What of LeFou?”

You blinked and looked at him, confused by his question. “What of LeFou?” you repeated.

“How is he?” Was that actual concern in Gaston’s eyes? You examined his face. He had schooled it into an unreadable expression, but you’d definitely seen something there.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since that night.”

“Oh.”

Was that guilt? Could the great Gaston actually be feeling remorse for his actions? You felt a little bubble of hope. Maybe spending time in here was good for him. Maybe he was actually thinking about what he’d done and how wrong it’d been. Maybe he was even realizing that his arrogance and selfishness was the reason he’d wound up locked in a cell.

Maybe he’s changing!

An idea formed in your head. You had no plans for that afternoon—it would be a perfect opportunity to ride into town and check on LeFou. Then you could let Gaston know that his oldest companion was okay!

You slammed the book shut and hopped up, nearly headbutting the man (well, that’s what he’d get for standing too close to you) in the process. “I have to go,” you said, trying to not seem too eager to leave.

Gaston didn’t move from his spot on the wall, although you saw that he looked disappointed at your sudden departure. Another flash of guilt hit you; the poor man was probably bored out of his mind here. You were the only form of social interaction that he received these days.

“Already? But we didn’t even have a full conversation!” he complained. “It’s been less than an hour! What am I supposed to do without your pleasant company to keep me entertained?”

Alright, the guilt was gone. Once again he’d made it all about him without seeming to realize how selfish he was being. And he was doing so well, you lamented.

He followed you to the door, though he didn’t make any movement to leave with you. With a sigh, you spun around and shoved the book at him. He left out a short “oof” at the unexpected action, his hands reaching up to grab it before it could fall to the floor. “Try reading,” you replied with a grin and a wink. You slipped through the door but didn’t close it yet.

“Well, that’s not my idea of entertainment,” he muttered, holding the book away from his body as if he expected it to bite him. He looked back at you. “Are you sure? Because I can think of a hundred things that would be more fun than reading a book.”

You shut the door in his face. “Sorry, Gaston. I don’t think your idea of fun and my idea of fun match up.” Well, that’s a blatant lie, the dirty voice in your head pointed out. You know you’d enjoy doing ‘things’ with him. You were really starting to hate that voice. You felt your ears turn pink and turned away before he could see the blush creeping up your face.

That’s right, (Y/N). Just walk away. Don’t think about things, and especially don’t think about the fact that his crotch was right next to you a few minutes ago. That’s a thing that you definitely don’t want to be thinking about.

“Oh, shut up,” you mumbled, staring at the ground while you walked, too encouraged by Gaston’s change in behavior to allow the voice to say anything further.

You had a mission to accomplish.

It was almost evening when you rode into town. You tied your horse up at Belle’s house. For a brief moment, you considered going inside and saying hi to Maurice, but ultimately chose not to. You needed to find LeFou. He was most likely to be at the tavern, where he and Gaston had spent most of their evenings.

You entered the tavern and scanned the crowd for the shorter man. You saw him sitting in the same corner you’d sat in less than a fortnight ago, back when the townspeople had been singing Gaston’s name over and over again. It feels like it’s been longer, you thought, making your way to the man. The closer you got, the more you realized that he was upset. He stared blankly at his full mug of ale, tuning out everything around him.

“LeFou?” you asked, stopping at the edge of the table.

He looked up at the sound of his name. When he saw you, he leaned back in confusion. “Yeah?”

“May I sit?”

He shrugged and leaned his head against the wall behind him. You grabbed the chair nearest him and sat in it. Neither of you said anything, and you realized you had no idea how to start a conversation with him. Should you mention Gaston? Should you ask how he’d been? Should you offer to buy him another drink?

Your eyes flicked to the full mug. Okay, maybe not a drink. Food? As you mulled, you took the time to study him. He looks so…tired. Faded yellow bruises were scattered on his face, and dark bags rested under his brown eyes. When was the last time he slept?

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” the portly man asked, scooting forwards and resting his head in his hands.

You blinked, caught off guard by his usage of your name. “You know my name?”

LeFou chuckled bitterly. “Of course I know your name. You’re Belle’s friend.” He finally lifted the mug and took a long drink. After he set the mug back down, he faced you, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you want?”

“I…uh…” You struggled to find a good excuse for talking to him. You couldn’t exactly blurt out that Gaston had been asking about him, now, could you? “I was just…”

You thought back to that fateful night. Suddenly, you knew what you needed to say. “I just wanted to thank you for telling Belle and me where Gaston was when we got to the castle. If you hadn’t told us, we’d have had to scour the place, and we probably would’ve been too late. So…thanks.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” LeFou took another long drink.

You frowned. “You don’t seem too happy about that.”

He laughed sarcastically. “No, I’m overjoyed that I assisted you two in your epic quest to save the Beast,” he said, shaking his head. “But you didn’t save him.”

You froze. “Who?” you whispered, although you already knew his answer.

“Gaston.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me, did you see him fall?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You tried to act nonchalant, but inside, you were frantic. How does he know about that? He couldn’t have seen it! So how—?

“I found his gun.” LeFou inhaled deeply and let out his breath in a shuddering sigh. You watched him, confused. “After the curse was lifted, I went looking for him. All I could find was his gun, broken into pieces. There was a stone bridge almost directly above me, and I knew. I knew he’d fallen, and no one, not even Gaston, could survive a fall like that.” He shuddered again, and you saw that his eyes were full of tears. “I couldn’t find his body, though. I don’t know what happened to it.” He looked up at the ceiling, no doubt trying to hide his tears from you. He sniffled and raised the mug to his lips once more.

You were struck with pity for this poor man who thought his best friend was dead. You had never once thought Belle dead during her absence, but you’d been fraught with fear for her. How much worse must it be for him? you wondered.

“LeFou, I’m…I’m so sorry,” you said in a soft voice. You placed your hand on his shoulder, certain he would shrug it off. He didn’t, instead accepting your attempt at comfort. When he faced you again, the tears were gone, although his eyes remained red.

“He hated you, you know.” LeFou’s voice wavered as he spoke.

Wait, what? “He did? Why?” You frowned.

He smiled weakly. “You were the girl who kept getting in the way of him and Belle.” You removed your hand from his shoulder as he shook his head. “Do you know how many times he’d be drunk and complaining that if it weren’t for you constantly getting in the way, he’d be married to Belle by now? ‘(Y/N) this, (Y/N) that. LeFou, I hate that woman!’”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words. “Oh. I didn’t know that,” you whispered. Does he still hate me? He certainly doesn’t act like it now…

“For a while there, I actually thought he secretly liked you—and you him.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You closed your mouth, swallowed, then tried again. Fortunately, before you could say anything stupid and incriminating, LeFou continued.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

You shook your head, relieved by his easy dismissal of your apparently not-so-secret crush. “I guess not.”

The silence that followed was broken by a man, tall and thin and wearing a pink shirt under his tan vest. He set a fresh mug of ale in front of LeFou and gave him a sympathetic shoulder squeeze before walking away.

“Thanks, Stanley,” LeFou muttered, taking a final gulp of his first beer. You doubted that Stanley heard him, but when you spared a quick glance, you saw that Stanley was smiling sadly at LeFou. His eyes widened when he saw you watching him, and he turned around to join the other two men that he was always hanging around.

“(Y/N), can I ask you something?”

You turned back to LeFou. “Yes.”

“If Belle did something that bothered you in a moral way…would you still care for her?”

You frowned. “Can you elaborate?”

LeFou’s mournful dark eyes met yours, and he began his tale.

The sounds of your feet as they stomped down on the stairs were definitely loud enough to alert Gaston of your impending presence. You were so furious you barely noticed the ascent to the cell. Your hand yanked on the lever and you kicked open the door.

Gaston looked up from the book in his hands and grinned when he saw you. “Ahh, (Y/N), you’re back!” he began, but you cut him off.

“You absolute bastard!” you yelled.

His grin faded. “Somebody’s upset…”

“Oh, I’m a hell of a lot more than just upset, you egomaniac!” You stomped over to him. “You abandoned your best friend!”

Gaston rolled away from you and stood, holding up the book in protest. “What are you talking about?” he demanded, stepping away as you marched towards him.

“What are you talking about?” you mocked. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Gaston. That night when you riled up the whole town into a murderous rampage and blackmailed your ‘dearest companion’ into helping you? The same ‘dearest companion’ who constantly followed you around, giving you a boost whenever someone bruised your ego? The ‘dearest companion’ that you left lying under a damn piano?” You jabbed at him with your hand, but he used the book as a shield. Without thinking, you kicked at his shin. He glanced down, which gave you the opportunity you needed to knock the book out of his grasp.

“(Y/N), what are you—ow!” You’d managed to back him closer to the wall. You slammed your arm across his chest, pinning him in place. He winced as his sore shoulder hit the cold stone.

“What kind of a person just leaves their friend like that? What kind of selfish, stupid person can look their best friend in the eyes and see that they need help, then just leave them lying there and not give a damn?” You felt your fury radiating from every fiber of your being as you growled at him.

LeFou had told you everything—how he’d gone along with Gaston’s plan to murder Maurice but felt guilt over it, how he’d slowly realized that Gaston was getting worse and worse, how he’d been uncomfortable with Gaston’s actions but had supported him because “That’s what friends do, right?”. He’d admitted to being bothered by the treatment of Belle and Maurice but how Gaston had threatened him. After finishing his second mug of ale, he’d explained about the subsequent storming of the castle and the attack of the inanimate objects (whom you now knew to be the cursed servants). You’d felt yourself growing more and more upset at Gaston’s actions towards LeFou, despite this being the most you’d ever interacted with the shorter man. Then he’d told you about Gaston’s abandonment of the battle (and him) in favor of killing the Beast (LeFou’s voice had cracked when he told you how Gaston had simply told him, “It’s hero time,” before running off), and your anger had boiled over.

You’d jumped up from your seat and rushed out of the tavern, feeling nothing but a deep desire to confront Gaston as soon as possible. On the journey back to the castle, your anger had only grown as you thought over LeFou’s words.

“I—wait, are you talking about LeFou?”

“YES I AM TALKING ABOUT LEFOU—WHO ELSE WOULD I BE TALKING ABOUT?” Your voice had risen from a growl to a roar.

Gaston flinched at the sudden increase in volume. “I didn’t abandon him,” he tried to say.

“LIAR!”

“Okay, so what if I did?” he shouted back, lifting his hands up. “Why does it matter?”

“Oh, it matters a lot! I would never think of doing such a thing to Belle! I care about her too much! But you wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you? You only care about yourself!”

“That’s not true at all!”

“No, I guess it isn’t, because if you had an ounce of self-preservation, you’d have run away when the Beast let you go! But no, what did you do?” You dropped your arm and held your hands up, mimicking his defensive pose. “Instead of doing the smart thing, you decided that your pride just couldn’t take it, and you just had to shoot him!” You could picture that night easily, only this time, instead of being propelled by desperation to save Gaston, you saw it through raw anger. “So you shot him, not only once—no, the great Gaston had to make sure he didn’t lose. So you shot again, and not once did you realize that the ground beneath your feet was literally falling!”

Hot tears began to stream down your face at the memory. Gaston realized that you were done, if only to take a few gulps of air, and tried once more to calm you. “Aha, but I didn’t fall,” he said triumphantly. “I didn’t die.” He winked. “We all know I’m too pretty to die, anyway.”

You didn’t need any more air. No, you needed to knock that smirk off of his face. Air could come later.

“Oh, ho ho, is that what you think? Is that what you think?” You laughed scornfully. “Well, think again, Gaston. Because the only reason you’re alive now is because of me. If it hadn’t been for me, you would’ve fallen to your death!”

He rolled his eyes, which only added to your frustration. “Oh, please, I could’ve jumped to safety if you hadn’t barreled into me.”

His inability to comprehend just how close he’d been to dying snapped something deep inside of you. All of the hot rage you’d felt before froze into icy wrath. You took a step towards him, your eyes boring into his. A flicker of worry crossed his face, but then—

THOCK!

The feeling of your fist against his face felt good, wonderful, even. The expression on his face when he realized he’d just been punched was even better. He reached up to feel his cheek and winced as his fingers brushed against the already-swelling red splotch.

“If I hadn’t been there, or if I’d hesitated for even a fraction of a second, you would’ve died,” you hissed. “Believe me. I know.” The finality of your words struck something in him—you saw it in his green eyes. You allowed him to meet your glare just long enough to make him uncomfortable, and then you spun around and walked away, kicking the door shut without saying anything else.

You stalked past Belle and Adam (who was carrying several giant books) in a hallway on your way to your bedroom. They must have noticed that something was off, because Belle asked, “Is everything alright, (Y/N)?”

You ignored her, which probably confirmed that no, everything was not alright. She called your name again, and you heard Adam start to speak, but they both stopped (likely because they could sense that you were in no mood to talk right now). Then you were out of sight of them, and you reached the door of your bedroom. You shoved it open, kicked it shut, and jumped onto the bed, burying yourself in sobs and pillows.

Next Chapter

#second chance #gaston #gaston x reader #kate writes #beauty and the beast #batb #gaston imagine

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