#I called it and I’m actually sad I wish I could unread this
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tubularfem · 2 years ago
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I CALLED IT A YEAR AGO THAT SOME TRANS WOMAN WOULD TRY FOOT-BINDING WTF
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candiiee · 3 months ago
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ʜᴇʀᴏᴇꜱ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ: ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ ɪꜱ ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ
ɪᴢᴜᴋᴜ ᴍ
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summary: your childhood
warnings: nightmares, anxiety, depression, murder, death, violence, mention of running away
an: izuku is honestly a cute beam of sunshine here in reader’s sad little life. Not proofread.
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“Y/N?” His soft breaks you out of your self deprecating thoughts. You’re both sitting under a tree, watching Bakugo and his lackeys play heroes in the playground.
You look up into his soft doe eyes. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay? I..couldn’t help but notice you seemed to be sad.” Izuku says, looking concerned.
You smile in fake happiness, “I’m fine. Why aren’t you with them?” You gesture towards Bakugo with a nod of your head.
“Oh..well, cause I’m, y’know, quirkless, and stuff, he doesn’t want me to join in. Cause heroes have quirks..and they're playing heroes. Actually, why aren’t you with them?” He twiddles his fingers nervously.
You frown, “That’s stupid. You can be a hero if you wanted to Izuku. And I’m not with them cause Bakugo thinks a quirk called ‘pickpocket’ sounds villainy.”
He flushes, eyes widening, in hope you think. "Really..?" Practically ignoring what you said after.
You nod, "You can be one, Izuku." Secretly wishing he would assure you that your quirk wasn’t evil, but it’s not like you could talk.
He blinks, a bunch of unreadable emotions going through him. "Thank you.."
You pause, "What time is it? I think I have to go now." He frowns, "You haven't even been here that long." You pause, thinking of a lie.
"Er..I have an appointment." You say, hoping he believes it.
He pauses not quite believing it, but too nice to pry. "Ok..see you tomorrow?" He asks hopefully.
You smile and nod, relieved he somewhat believed you. "I'll try." He hoped he wouldn't question how and why you planned on going home. Or how you even got here at the park for that matter.
Yep, nothing suspicious about a five year old going to a park all by themselves.
You waved bye, “Bye Izuku.” As you left, you passed by Bakugo, and stuck your tongue out.
He glares at, looking like he’s about to say something, but you’re too far to hear it.
The walk home is adventurous. Following your parent’s advice, use and ‘practice’ your quirk’s abilities by ‘borrowing’ wallets. You knew it was wrong. But your daily practice helped your family get by. Granted, the least they could do was be proud of you for helping.
You make it home, dumping your pockets contents, save for some 5 dollar bills. “Mom.” You say, announcing your arrival.
Just another normal day as a low rank thief.
—————
You’re eight now. With a bigger knowledge of the world and reality then any child should know. Using your quirk everyday to see what’s inside other’s pockets, then pickpocketing it.
Downright evil. You can’t help but feel glad Izuku won’t ever get to know. He’d try to save you or whatever.
You still continue meeting up with him at the park, playing together. Even though he would probably like to visit you, and maybe a bit hurt that you refuse.
That is, till you see your parents die.
A completely normal day. Mother hits you for not meeting the quota. You don’t cry. You’re used to it.
Your dad doesn’t show up till late night, and frantic. He immediately starts packing up after a brief conversation with your mom and a lot of yelling. Soon your mom joins in, telling you to make yourself useful and help.
So you do. And right in the process of stuffing your saved and stolen money into all your pockets, you hear someone banging on the door.
And who could that be, so late at night? And why did your parents look so terrified?
“We’re too late.” Your mother utters, standing still in terror. “Late?” You question.
That snaps her out of it. “Hide in the cupboards. Now.”
You blink, “Why?”
“Just do it!”
More banging, and curses.
She grabs your old stuffed dog toy, long discarded, and shoves it into your hands. “Don’t make a sound, and hang onto that.”
She pushes you into a cramped cupboard, and you protest. “Stay here and if you hear anything, don’t scream, don’t cry, don’t make a sound. Got it?”
You blink in shock, “Why..?”
She deeply inhales, “Your father borrowed money from people, bad people. So now they want to hurt him. And they don’t care who. So hide.”
That shuts you up. You nod, and your mother sighs, “Good. And don’t come out till you hear absolutely nothing.” She pauses, and the door breaks. “I love you.” She closes the door, and leaves you in darkness.
You hear screaming, and gunshots. It makes you jump, and you close your eyes shut. You dare to crack the door, just a bit.
What you see makes you wish you had obeyed. Your blood runs cold. Your dad lies dead, bleeding from his head, eyes lifeless but wide open.
Your mom was a gun pressed against her head.
“Where’s the money!” The man, at least you think is on, barks.
“U-under the mattress!” Your mom manages to say.
Which she would be right. If not for the fact that while you were packing up, you had grabbed it and put it in your pockets. You stiffen. If your mom died, her blood would be on you.
One of the men stormed into your shared room. A bunch of noises of things getting tossed around, and he returned, shaking his head. “Nuthin.”
The man cocks the gun. “Last chance.”
“I don’t know!” She cries. The gun goes off. And your mom falls over in a pool of her own blood.
You almost cried out and got out of the darn cupboard. But you remember her words.
You wanted to go out there and kill them. But now is not the time. You grip the stuffie, practically strangling it.
You wake up in a cold sweat. You blink. Oh right. You are not eight anymore. You are seventeen, had some kills under your belt, and was living in a shoddy abandoned shed on the top of a rooftop.
You rub your eyes, thinking about how somehow, your eight year old self had stuffed everything they could into a backpack, opened the window and never looked back.
You even still had that darn stuffie. It was a miracle you had lived this long. No thanks to heroes.
Today was a new day of stealing, maybe killing if anyone got in your way. Granted, you had already gotten your revenge by slitting their throats with a knife, after a long three years of stalking.
And you did feel guilty for indirectly being the reason your mother died. And maybe the authorities were on your tail. But you had outrun them. Maybe. Probably.
You sigh, surveying your scars on your arm. Caused by getting into knife fights with low rank scum.
You get off the floor and your sad excuse of a mattress, and start your day.
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@candiiee 2024
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Taglist:
@kimyoudraft hereee
@dokidokidraft heree
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mizunetzu · 4 years ago
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Atsumu + Alcohol
If you make him drunk, I will hug you. Also, glad to see you’re back! :>
He’s drunk. Hug me. Now. But ehehe it makes me happy that you’re glad I’m back :,) NOW HERES DRUNK ATSUMU!
Also only @shiny-bun wanted to be tagged sobs reeeeeaaaal confidence booster I know :,)
——————
Atsumu x reader - Sweet, Sweet Lies Called Drunk Miya Atsumu
⚠️warnings - mentions of alcohol through the fic. reader records videos of atsumu drunk whenever he sees him. It isn’t in a sexual way at all; and reader doesn’t touch atsumu unconsentually at all. Just likes to watch him drunk bc he loves him still :,)
Also: FUCKING ANGST. you know it’s fuckign angsty when I got emotional writing it. Also, grammarly proof read it don’t trust it.
Pronouns - male, he/him
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——————
“I think we should break up.” 
(Y/n) blinked, before down casting his head. He said nothing for a while, before opening his mouth again bluntly.
“...ok.”
Atsumu furrowed his brows. He gripped the coffee mug resting on the cafe table just a bit harder. He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer. “...Ya aren’t gonna ask why? Yer just ok with it?”
“Well,” (Y/n) emotionlessly bit into a small biscuit. His expression was unreadable, blank like a piece of paper. “It’s not like I can change your mind, ‘Tsumu.”
“But...can I at least know why?”
The two went silent. Atsumu pursed his lips, trying to find the words to say while (Y/n) sat there expectantly. Eventually, Atsumu looked back up from his coffee mug.
“S’a lot of reasons, I think. ‘M busy with volleyball, ‘specially since it’s my job now,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. It was true, with the Black Jackals, he was being paid to do something he loved. “And...I...”
“I think I found a girl I really like.”
(Y/n) looked down at his lap numbly. He already knew it was coming, he wasn’t blind to the faint lipstick marks Atsumu tried to wipe away when he came home, or the smell of expensive perfume that stained him when he would come back from ‘practice’. He knew, he knew yet...
“Ah.”
Was all he could say.
——
Atsumu downed his third can of cheap beer, hissing loudly and slamming it down on the bar.
“I hate life! M’gonna fuckin’...! Run away and shit!”
Sakusa hummed. “Oh no. What happened now.”
Loud, irritating club music blared through the bar’s speakers. Atsumu slumped over the counter, making Sakusa and Bokuto lean back.
“Oi! ‘Tsum-Tsum! What’s wrong buddy?” Bokuto poked repeatedly at Atsumu’s head, making him groan and pathetically try and flick his hand away.
“M’...M’so sad...” Atsumu whimpered. Sakusa rolled his eyes while Bokuto frowned. Atsumu continued to mumble sadly into his arms until he slowly became more agitated, and whipped his drunken head up. 
“Shoyo’s got a nice boyfriend! That fuckin’...Kodzuken youtuber dude! Why can’t I! If I were Shoyo, I’d be laying on my boyfriend’s lap and bein’ all cute and shit —but here I am! Fuckin’ drinkin’ and bitchin’ and fuckin’...fuck! Fuckin’ Shoyo! Fuckin’ Kodzuken! Fuckin’—”
“But didn’t you just break up with that girl you were seeing for like, months now? Thought you were straight, man!” Bokuto said, playing with the little garnish on his drink. Atsumu deadpanned, swallowing thickly before letting his head thump down onto the table. 
“Thought I was. M’gayer than if unicorns shat me out.”
Sakusa sipped on his fancy, green drink. “Is this about (L/n)-san, again-“
“‘Course it’s about (Y/n)!”
Atsumu waved at the bartender to grab him another drink. The bartender looked him up and down, before shrugging and leaving off to grab another beer. Sakusa looked at Atsumu with a disappointed expression.
“You do realize that every time we drink, you get shit-faced drunk, complain about (L/n)-san, call (L/n)-san, then he picks you up and you wake up in his house because he’s too nice to refuse to pick you up. And you regret and bitch to me every single time.” Sakusa closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink. “Honestly I don’t know why I still come with you guys if I know it’s gonna end up like this.”
“Hey! ‘Tsum-Tsum has his problems and he’s just letting them out!” Bokuto defensively waved his arms around, gesturing to Atsumu on the table, laying down his head in his arms. Both Sakusa and Bokuto were pretty sure he was ugly sobbing. Or at least babbling nonsense that sounded like sobs.
“He can’t even sit up straight. And Miya-san was the one who broke up with (L/n)-san for another girl. He has no right to be complaining.”
“S-Still! ‘Tsumu’s the homie! Let him rant!” Bokuto chugged down his drink. 
Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his list of contacts, before clicking on one that read ‘(L/n)-san. (Atsumu’s pick-me-up)’. The phone’s screen turned black, displaying (Y/n’s) profile pic with a ‘contacting...’ right under it in fine print. 
“Sure, Bokuto-san. Whatever you want.”
——
“Fuckin’...let go of me, Omi!” Atsumu slurred. He, however, made no attempt to push Sakusa off as he dragged him outside the bar. Bokuto had long gone, and Atsumu was a few drinks overdue for his trip home. 
Sakusa sighed, standing out in the cold with his mask pulled up to his face. Atsumu lolled his head onto Sakusa’s shoulder, either in an attempt to push him off or just pure drunkenness. “Don’t drool on me, Miya-san.” Sakusa cringed.
Atsumu was about to retort back, until both his and Sakusa’s attention was drawn to a home-y, black car that pulled up right in front of them. The driver’s door clicked open, and someone in a baggy sweater and sweatpants emerged from the car. 
“Please take him, (L/n)-san. I’m sorry for always calling you to-”
“It’s fine!” (Y/n) chuckled, opening the passenger’s side door for Sakusa to throw Atsumu’s body in. “‘Tsumu’s been drinking a lot, huh? Isn’t this the third time this month I had to pick him up?” 
Atsumu groaned when Sakusa clipped in his seatbelt. He sighed when Atsumu began tugging at it like a child, not knowing how to unbuckle it himself. “Actually, it’s the fourth time. But he has a reason today, I think.”
“He finally broke up with Yumena-san.”
Breath hitched in (Y/n’s) throat. He covered his shock up with a smile, however, and closed the car door with Atsumu in it. “Aw. Well, I better uh, drive him home, now. Bye-bye, Sakusa-kun.”
Sakusa nodded. (Y/n) stepped into his car tentatively. Ignoring the way Atsumu was still tugging at his seatbelt, he started up the car, and drove. 
“I’m...sure you won’t mind sleeping over at my place again...right, ‘Tsumu?” (Y/n) mumbled, more to himself than to the drunktard sprawled out onto his car seat. He silently unlocked his phone, tapping on the camera app and propping his phone up on his dash. He hit record, and withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Atsumu eyed it suspiciously, before shrugging it off sleepily.
“Naaaah…” Atsumu slurred. He threw his head haphazardly onto the armrests separating his seat from (Y/n’s), trying to get as close to his ex as possible. “Yer apartment smells good...I miss it...I miss you…”
Shifting so he was still laying on the armrest, Atsumu tucked his arm under his head like a pillow. “Yer so...pretty…love you so much...”
(Y/n) pursed his lips. Atsumu smiled dumbly, pointing a finger gun at (Y/n). “We should-you and I should like, totally get back together n’ shit…” Atsumu stopped, letting out a hiccup, before continuing. “I miss you...n’ I love you…”
Stopping at a red light, (Y/n) looked down at Atsumu, who was staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. (Y/n) averted his gaze, chuckling awkwardly. “...You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk.”
Atsumu shot up. “But I do! M’so sad without you!” Atsumu loosened his seatbelt enough so he could rest his face on (Y/n’s) forearm. “You were the best thing in my life, n’ I need you back! I love you so muuuuuuch!”
(Y/n) stayed quiet for a second, glancing at his camera pointed directly at Atsumu nuzzling his face into his arm. He slowed the car to a stop, taking out his keys and pressing the ‘Stop’ button on his phone. He slipped both of them into his pockets.
“We’re here. C’mon, get up.” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. After sitting in his car for a while, he finally got up, and walked over to the other side to haul Atsumu’s corpse-of-a-body out of his seat. “Fuck...sometimes I wish my apartment wasn’t on the third floor-’Tsumu! You can walk if I support you, right? I’m not carrying you.”
Atsumu pressed all his weight against (Y/n). “What if I want my boyfriend to carry me like a princess n’ shit…”
“I’m-” (Y/n) swallowed. His voice was quiet and shaky again. “I’m not your boyfriend. You say stupid things when you’re drunk...”
Atsumu was about to protest, when (Y/n) looped his arm under his own arm. 
“Let’s go. You need rest.”
The walk to (Y/n’s) apartment was silent.
——
Atsumu pouted, eyeing down the way Kenma was showing a video on his phone to Hinata and smiling. Hinata grinned widely, his eyes glued to Kenma’s phone screen until an obnoxious sigh drew his eyes away. 
“Why’d ya even invite me here...M’just third wheelin’ on yer guys's little date time.” Atsumu frowned, dramatically slumping in his seat. Kenma hunched his shoulders down, suddenly becoming very aware of the way Atsumu not-so-subtly stared him down. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, trying to hide behind the cup itself. 
Hinata defensively wrapped his arms around Kenma. “Oiiiii! We invited you over because you always get super-duper depressed after waking up hungover at (L/n’s)!”
“I’m more depressed now that yer all cuddly-wuddly with yer frickin’ boyfriend while m’sitting here with my single ass!”
“Miya wakes up hungover at (Y/n’s)?” Kenma quietly asked Hinata. He nodded. Atsumu started flailing his arms around, trying to get Hinata to stop talking, but he didn’t seem to take the hint.
“Every time he goes drinking, he ends up crying about how much he still loves (L/n)—and ends up either calling him or someone else calls him to go pick him up. Either way, he wakes up super embarrassed and awkward in (L/n’s) bed and sulks the rest of the time at practice.” 
Atsumu sat there, feeling like he’d been shoved to the front of a volleyball court completely naked. Kenma blinked, before looking down again.
“Oh.”
“That’s all yer gonna say-!?”
“I guess it kind of makes sense, now.”
Atsumu stopped mid-sentence, looking at Kenma with a confused expression. Kenma tried to dodge Atsumu’s eyes again, this time tugging on Hinata’s sleeve.
“...What makes sense now?”
Kenma had the look of ‘I said too much.’, trying to change the topic or hoping Hinata would swoop in and change it for him. But alas, no such thing happened. “I don’t think (Y/n) would…”
Hinata suddenly tugged back at Kenma’s sweatshirt, gesturing to turn around with him for a private conversation. They both turned their heads, mumbling out little ‘video-!’, ‘(Y/n)-!’ and ‘Atsumu-!’s here and there. Atsumu glanced from Hinata, to Kenma, before pouting that he’d been left out of the conversation.
Eventually, both Kenma and Hinata turned around again, looking directly at Atsumu. He stared back at them with doe-like confused eyes, when Kenma fished out his phone. 
“If we show you, you promise to act like you never knew at all?” Hinata childishly extended his pinky finger out to Atsumu, to which he nodded vigorously and hooked his own pinky with his. Kenma piped up.
“The reason I said it made sense was because I found a folder in (Y/n’s) phone titled, and I quote: ‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad)’. They’re filled with video’s of you, drunk, blabbing about how much you love him.”
Atsumu stared at Kenma.
“Yer fuckin’ lyin’.”
“I’m...really not.” Kenma turned his phone screen around, displaying a video filmed in what seemed to be (Y/n’s) car. Atsumu leaned down and peered at the video, seeing his head frozen in place in the corner of the screen. Kenma felt around for the play button, tapping until it started playing. 
Atsumu watched the video in horror, his face going milk white as he watched himself cry and sob about how much he wanted to get back with (Y/n). Right in front of him. The video ended, and Atsumu looked up with the hope of getting hit with a bus. 
“How...did you get-”
“I airdropped this one to myself when (Y/n) was in the bathroom one day because I found this one funny.” Kenma mumbled, turning his phone around and inspecting the screen. “There’s millions of them on his phone, this one isn’t even the worst. Some of them are in his apartment when he’s trying to get you into bed, and I think there’s one where you beg him to cuddle with yo-”
“Stop! Stop! No more!” Atsumu covered his face, embarrassed. Kenma let his mouth fall shut, while Hinata snickered into his drink. Atsumu let his head smack onto the table. “What did I do to deserve this…”
“Hey!” Hinata quipped, his positive voice making Atsumu’s brain hurt. “You know what that means, right?”
“That (Y/n) probably wants blackmail or revenge on me for breaking up with him?” Atsumu grumbled into his hands.
“Wh-no, what,” Kenma said. “He means-”
“(L/n) still loves you! I mean-he saves videos of you saying you love him to watch when he is sad or lonely or whatever, that means he loves you still! It was even in the title!”
Atsumu glared at Hinata like he was squinting at the sun. Kenma shrugged. 
“S’true. He told me himself he watches them when he goes to sleep n’stuff.”
“Yer lyin’.”
“Was he lying when he showed you the video?” Hinata raised his eyebrow. 
Atsumu opened his mouth, before letting it clamp shut and shaking his head ‘no’.
——
Clinging to his side like a kicked puppy, (Y/n) found himself nursing a drunk, sobbing Atsumu at his apartment once more. 
“Tsum-” (Y/n) struggled to stick his key in his door’s keyhole with the way Atsumu was quite literally hanging off him. It was like he was trying to pull (Y/n) to the ground with him. “Atsumu! I’m trying to-”
“Don’t leaaaaave meeee! I love you!” Atsumu sobbed. He wiped his messy face onto (Y/n’s) jacket. 
Finally sticking the key inside and turning it, (Y/n) pushed open the door and patted at Atsumu’s ruffled hair. “I’m not leaving, ‘Tsumu. Just taking you to bed, is all. We’re still...friends...I think.”
“Don’t wanna be your friend.” Atsumu sniffled, as he staggered into (Y/n’s) room with the support of his body. He was thrown on the bed with a loud groan, as (Y/n) went to grab his phone. “We were meant to be together...boyfriends...soulmates…!”
“I wish you meant that,” (Y/n) chuckled, setting up his phone, pointing it at his bed and pressing record. “Gave it up after the fifth time you came here sloppy drunk, though. It really is just you talking out of your ass.”
The hint of bitterness in (Y/n’s) voice increased unsteadily, wavering like a candlelight. “I-I mean, you say all these nice things-then the next morning you either deny everything you said, or leave before I can even say goodbye! Or you don’t even remember most of the time!”
(Y/n’s) disgruntled laugh made Atsumu blink. He eventually simmered down, looking down at the floor and busying himself with searching through his desk. 
“That’s okay though. I have these little videos of your lies to keep me company. I can live with that just fine.” (Y/n) turned to Atsumu, holding up painkillers and setting them atop the desk. “...Sorry for problem-dumping on you, ‘Tsumu. I know you want sleep.”
“Don’t take these yet. They’re for tomorrow.” (Y/n) rattled the painkillers in their box, before producing a water bottle and extending it to Atsumu. He looked at the bottle like it was some foreign object. The water sloshed around when (Y/n) swirled it around Atsumu’s face. “It’s for your hangover tomorrow. Drink up, ‘Tsum-Tsum.”
“Only if you cuddle with me.”
(Y/n) pursed his lips. “No.”
“Then m’not drinkin’ the fuggin’ water!”
“Atsum-!” (Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set down the bottle of water on his nightstand, and rested his hands on his hips. “...If I give you a tiny hug, will you drink all the water and go to sleep?”
Atsumu nodded vigorously.
(Y/n) expected him to stand up and give him a hug, but instead, he opened his arms and sat expectantly, waiting for something to crawl between them. He was so far back on the bed, (Y/n) would probably have to lay awkwardly in his chest until he was satisfied.
So that's what (Y/n) did, after what felt like hours of contemplating and clenched jaws. He bit his lip, climbing slowly towards Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu smiled dumbly, and scooped him up in his arms like a claw machine. 
What Atsumu didn’t expect, was (Y/n) to stiffen up, surprised, before melting into his arms pathetically. He clumsily wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s torso, his body curling into the shape of his own like dough. He let his head slump in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, taking in a shaky, deep breath and sighing heavier than he meant to. 
(Y/n) figured he must’ve forgotten how much he relished being wrapped up in Atsumu’s arms, because he found himself not wanting to let go of Atsumu’s shirt that reeked of alcohol.
Still, after what was probably only a few candid seconds, (Y/n) pushed himself away from Atsumu, who slumped back on the bed confused, and wobbled his way back onto his feet. 
“There…” (Y/n) breathed. He had the most unreadable expression, and his voice was quiet and raspy. “Now-now drink th-the water...you promised.” 
Atsumu shrugged, swiping the water from the nightstand, and chugging it sloppily. (Y/n) went to work removing Atsumu’s socks, pants, and other things uncomfy to sleep in, until he was left in his boxers and t-shirt. Atsumu stared at (Y/n) sleepily, as he grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and threw them on the swivel chair near his desk.
“...Y-Yer not gonna sleep here with me?”
(Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over to stop his phone from recording, and curled up on the chair with his pillow. His voice was meek under the thin blanket he wrapped himself in. “You always ask, and i’ll always say no. Honestly I don’t know why you keep asking.”
“You look cold.”
“I’m...really not.”
“S’comfier on the bed.”
“...I like this chair.”
“I can scoot over-”
“Miya, if I give in and cuddle with you, everythings gonna be sunshine and rainbows ‘til the next morning—where you wake up next to me and regret everything! I’m-i’m trying to save your dignity here so stop asking!” (Y/n) croaked. He clutched his blanket tighter. “You’re drunk! You aren’t thinking! I already gave your-your stupid hug so stop it! How do you think I feel!?”
Atsumu rubbed at his head. (Y/n’s) hot face immediately flushed out, his voice quieting down back into his normal voice. 
“Ah...I’m...sorry. You’re...tired and I probably shocked you with my-by being loud n’stuff.” (Y/n) bowed his head slightly, before shifting away from Atsumu in his little swivel chair. “Sorry. Go to sleep now. Night, ‘Tsumu.”
When he heard shifting on the bed, (Y/n) grabbed his earphones and turned out the light. Plugging in his earphones hurriedly, he switched on his phone, clicking on the photos app and on today's video of Atsumu to cheer him up. He even caught the hug on camera, so he was looking forward to that. 
Dimming his phone's brightness to not disturb Atsumu, (Y/n) scrolled through the video, everything moving in fast-motion until (Y/n) saw himself climb into Atsumu’s arms. He paused the video there, smiling numbly, and taking a screenshot. 
Before he could add the video to the rest of his collection of drunk-sumu videos, he was suddenly hauled up and hanging upside down. He was tossed over Atsumu’s shoulder, not even having time to protest before he was thrown carefully onto his own bed. 
“Hey-Tsu-” Atsumu said nothing, climbing into the bed gracefully after (Y/n) and pulling the covers over the both of them. “Listen to me-! Let me go-!”
“If yer gonna keep sayin’ shit like...like i’ll regret it in the mornin’...fuckin’... let me,” Atsumu slurred. (Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but Atsumu beat him to it. “S’my fault…’n...m’gonna deal with it in the mornin’. S-so lemme hold you.”
(Y/n) knitted together his eyebrows, looking conflicted on what he should do. He’d been so, so good at restraining himself from stealing hugs and kisses from Atsumu when he was drunk, and his reward was the videos. If he messed it up now, would Atsumu be too embarrassed to let himself get picked up by (Y/n) when he was drunk? Was he really willing to potentially give up future lovey-dovey drunk videos, and seeing Atsumu tell him he loved him for one night in his arms again?
He was. 
(Y/n) relaxed, a numb expression on his face. He was just about done. One last time of drunk Atsumu holding him for a whole night, then it was time to move on. Hell, maybe after tonight, and after explaining to a very-embarassed hungover Atsumu in the morning that “No, we did not have sex,” maybe, just maybe, he would finally delete the videos. The video’s of his ex who didn’t love him anymore, feeding him drunk lies of ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, and finally moving on with his life. 
(Y/n) ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a tuckered-out sigh. Maybe after he stopped clinging to the past, he could be normal friends with Atsumu Miya again. 
(Y/n) looked at Atsumu with dry eyes. He let himself succumb to Atsumu’s warm chest, breathing in his scent for what could possibly be the last time. Atsumu purred happily, adjusting so he could wrap both arms around (Y/n), using one as a pillow for him and another to wrap around his body. (Y/n) hummed dryly.
Atsumu giggled. “...Love you...so much.”
(Y/n), for once out of all the time’s he’d always respond with ‘No, you don’t.’ or ‘You’re just drunk.’, said:
“I love you too.” 
“...hehe...he…” Atsumu kissed the crown of (Y/n’s) forehead, before nuzzling it with his nose. “I love you sososo much.”
(Y/n) was quick to respond, even though his throat began closing up and making it hard to speak. You could probably tell he was on the verge of tears. “Me too, ‘Tsumu. I love you most.”
“I love you so much…” Atsumu began, this time his voice way more clearer and sober than what he’d been speaking with this whole night. 
“...That i’d pretend m’drunk just to see you again.”
“...”
(Y/n) blinked, not quite processing his words. He shrunk inside Atsumu’s cage-like arms, before timidly meeting Atsumu’s eyes. They seemed much clearer, less hazy from ‘alcohol’, and they stared back at him with it’s usual ‘Atsumu’ look.
“...huh…?”
Atsumu patted (Y/n’s) head. “Yer so cute. I love you so much.”
“Wh-wait-” (Y/n) tried to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s arms. “You-you’re not-”
“Nope. All I did at the bar tonight was watch Bokkun and Shoyo-kun drink so i’d smell like alcohol. Then I told—well, paid Omi-Omi to call you sayin’ I was drunk again, so I could see what stupid shit I did at your place when I was drunk.”
“Though,” Atsumu nodded at the discarded phone on the ground, next to (Y/n’s) makeshift swivel chair-bed. “I could've just asked to see that video of me. Or the rest of them, ‘coordin’ to Kozume-kun.”
(Y/n) sputtered, trying to find the words to speak, but finding himself too embarrassed to. He’d, finally, been caught red-handed. 
He sighed, casting his head down, before crawling out of his bed and taking the walk of shame to his phone. “...You caught me,’Tsu...Atsumu. Caught me real good, Atsumu.”
(Y/n) scrolled through his phone, searching for the album full of his drunk video’s of Atsumu. He clicked on it, then waved his phone around guiltily. He turned the phone around, peering down at it sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete all of these...and I...I can drive you home if you want.”
“Nah. M’pretty comfy here.” Atsumu laid back down. “I’d be comfier if you were in my arms again, though.”
Atsumu made grabby arms towards (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked, searching Atsumu for any sort of satire. He found none, and nervously inched toward Atsumu until he was pulled back into his chest. The phone was, once again, forgotten on the floor. 
“Wheeeeeey, there we go~” Atsumu nestled down onto the bed, crooning (Y/n) in his arms and stroking his head. “Ain’t that comfy.”
He pressed a small kiss to (Y/n’s) forehead. “Love you. Goodnight~”
“...Wait, n-no you-”
Atsumu pressed another kiss onto (Y/n’s) face, promptly shutting him up. He tried speaking again, just to have another kiss placed onto his face. This cycle went on, (Y/n) trying to voice out his protests just to be hushed with kisses all over his face, until he reduced into a pile of hot tears, melting his face off raw. 
Atsumu kissed (Y/n’s) tears away. When more kept coming, Atsumu pulled back, stroking (Y/n’s) hair as gently as he could. Gentle was not a word to describe Miya Atsumu, but he sure as hell would try. 
“Stop cryin’...” Atsumu whispered, kissing another falling tear away. “I came here to win ya back, not make you cry…”
“I-I’m sorry-” (Y/n) sobbed out between hics. “I just- I missed you so-”
“I did too.” 
They sat there, small hics coming from (Y/n) as Atsumu quietly stroked his hair, and in all honesty, they would have laid there forever. But (Y/n) finally wriggled his way out Atsumu’s grasp, timpering his way to his phone. 
He picked it up, fiddling with it, before turning his phone screen around. Atsumu leaned closer. 
‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad) - 0 videos’
“Deleted them all.” (Y/n) murmured. “Figured I wouldn’t need them anymore now that I got you here…”
Atsumu blinked before erupting into a wide smile. He sprang off the bed and attacked (Y/n) with a big, bear hug. “You bet yer ass you won’t!” 
He peppered kisses around (Y/n’s) face, and instead of crying, (Y/n) began to smile.
“Stop it-that tickles! ‘Tsumu-!” The red tear stains on (Y/n’s) face were barely noticeable under the flurry of kisses he was under. Atsumu grinned stupidly into (Y/n’s) skin.
“Ya know full well you don’t want me to.”
And he didn’t.
Atsumu pressed one final kiss to (Y/n’s) face, this time, and for the first time in a long time: on his lips.
——————
I’m really proud of this 👉👈 I’d like it if I could get a lil,,,reblog,,,with thoughts,,,or comments,,,aha ha ha,,,
Lil thing I found funny
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yanderecandystore · 3 years ago
Note
Could you please do a fanfic for a male version of Yandere! Lady Dimitrescu (from Resident Evil Village game) with the reader.
I really like the Resident Evil franchise but I'm too lazy to know what the hell is happening in the older games XD I'm so sorry about that-
I loved watching playthroughs of Resident Evil Village (can't buy the game ;-;), but I felt like it was a bit empty, idk- I felt like the lords weren't really explored enough.
Also the Duke is the best husbando in the whole game- Fight me! >:3
TW/Tags: GN = Gender Neutral, I normally forget to properly name it when it's gender neutral, most of the time I just say "reader" // maybe ooc // lazy genderbent, I'm terrible with names // size difference // servant reader // mentions of gore/cuts/bruises/blood and deaths (and torture- I'm so sorry-) // reader gets hurt // mentions of vomiting
It's Dinner Already [Yandere!M!Dimitrescu x GN!Reader - Short Fanfiction]
It's dinner time already, unfortunately for you, of course.
It feels almost like a routine at this point- Which in a way, it is! You always take care of your tasks during the day, while dreading the inevitable time for dinner to arrive again.
Everyday, at this exact same hour, you and the other servants would prepare a meal for Lord Dimitrescu and his lovely… Sons…
As someone who has started "working" for their family only a month ago, you can positively say: Starving in the cold woods next to your village would have probably been a more merciful death than the ones you have witnessed at this place. You weren't as accustomed to such brutal executions at your village, actually you hardly even witnessed so much death, at least not so up close.
When you came here, you didn't expect to be instantly comforted and treated with respect- You were a commoner looking for an possibility to thrive in a noble's house, you were basically an easy target for any entitled selfish lord to easily belittle you and make you work for them until your hands would turn to dust. Yet nothing could have prepared you for such an odd situation.
Vampires. Monsters. Fiends if you were bold enough to insult them. You weren't exactly welcomed as much as you were snatched in and now forever trapped inside this castle. You can still hear their laughter… Their insane expressions of pure glee, the way they have bursted into maliciously laughing at your pain as you screamed for help trying to open up their door again and be free from that nightmare.
The chase didn't last even a second, they stabbed your legs with their scythes and brought you deeper inside this hellhole, as you cried your eyeballs out. The sons had brought you back inside so their father could take a look at the "intruder".
An absolute titan amongst the mortals. His height was only a sick reminder of how much power he had over the castle, over his sons, and now- Over you.
He may not have been as massive as he was threatening as you remind him to be, but at the time you were just in awe of his height considering you have never seen someone as tall and as mighty.
Then again- You have never seen vampires as well. Were they the same vampires as the books you've read as a kid? You weren't so sure of it…
You were hoping that if you begged for life and for forgiveness for having disturbed their peace, that they could spare you and let you go back to your village. Sadly enough, you commented on how you were only trying to look for a job as a servant.
You probably shouldn't have given them ideas, but it's too late to think about your mistakes now, however.
The sons begged to see your blood spilled, yet Lord Dimitrescu was merciful enough to grant you your "wish", as he said.
It has been a month ever since you were trapped inside and forced to work as a miserable little servant, and even if you didn't suffer the worst forms of punishments that they had in-store for you, you couldn't help but fantasize about just running away and never turning back.
You're so tired of this castle, of the smell of carnage, of the undeserved and over the top punishments, and especially of the people who would subjugate you to such things.
But at last, it's dinner time already, and you can't keep them waiting.
You feel your hands shaking as you walk out of the kitchen and into the dining room where the masters of the castle were so graciously waiting for you. You know what they're waiting for- But you can't let them distract you, for those that commit accidents are faced with fates worse than death.
Although you would rather do this process quickly, you can't afford mistakes to happen, so you take your time to set not only their meal in front of each one but to also pour "wine" into their glasses. You do all of this without looking directly into their eyes, only bowing down to each one and saying "excuse me"s in what they would call a "decent tone", as the smell of their disgusting beverage starts to irritate your nostrils. If you didn't know the main ingredient to Sanguis Virgins is, you probably wouldn't have this immense disgust over it, but right now just the thought of it makes you want to gag.
Only villains could so easily drink blood, and still make a living out of it.
Your internal thoughts of pure hatred against this whole situation almost completely blinded you to the fact that they were eerily, very quiet.
….
On most nights they would be talking with each other while occasionally making comments about you or your presence. Obviously they were all pretty nasty comments that they somehow expected you to back it up in some way or another, it's when they try to insert you into their conversation that makes you hate this occasion so badly, but it normally ends as quickly as it begins.
But as you are pouring wine to Lord's Dimitrescu, you notice that they haven't said a single thing while you were there. You stop what you're doing as you realize that they were silently observing you this whole time, and as you look into their expressions you come to think that maybe you have messed up-
Somehow, in some way or form, you may have messed up- And the fact this mistake could cost your head only agitates your already very worried mind.
….
A small moment of silence continues before the middle son, Cassandro, starts to chuckle in an almost innocent way- As if he was a kid who just said a bad word for the first time- And as he bursts into sudden laughter, Daniel leans towards Bello and loudly whispers:
"- I told you, they do this every time." To which Bello only replied with:
"- It's almost like hypnosis in a way."
The three sons were mesmerized by your ability to trap yourself in your own mind. They're probably aware that you do this as a defensive mechanism but they still find it comical in a weird way. You feel yourself get more tense as you look up at Lord Dimitrescu and see him staring back at you, with an unreadable expression across his face.
Before you could come up with an excuse to whatever you may have caused to disturb their dinner, the Lord himself spoke.
"- How inappropriate. As my sons, you three should know better than to laugh at our servant's airheaded mind-"
And as he said that, their smiles begin to disappear and be replaced with frowns and a bit of shame as they become stiff at their father's words.
"- And how inappropriate of you, too. To be so distracted in the presence of your masters, that's quite rude don't you think?"
But as he continued their bodies begin to relax once again as they realize he wasn't focusing on them- He was focusing on you.
Words have completely disappeared from your vocabulary as you start to think that maybe you won't be able to see another day after their meal is over. You try to mumble some possible responses before getting interrupted by him once again.
"- It's very rude, so very rude in fact that I think we deserve some answers. What were you so distracted about? What were you thinking that could have possibly taken over your small little head?"
Right now, he was sounding a bit condescending, thankfully not as angry as he would have been with the other servants right about now. Every little mistake was used as excuses for punishments- And if you were walking on thin ice before, right now you are one-step closer to breaking this entire lake and getting yourself killed by the freezing temperatures of the water below you.
Thanks to your luck (or maybe lack thereof, depending on how you see this) Daniel came to "your rescue" by coming up with an excuse for you.
"- Maybe they were hungry." He said without any indications of it being a joke or a lie- As the youngest yet craziest of the bunch, he always had that weird "naive yet dangerous" energy coming from him. He was naive enough to make that statement when it's very clear that you actually despise being near them, but he still was a son of Dimitrescu.
You know better than to underestimate any of these people.
The Lord didn't seem completely convinced as he side eyed Daniel who was blissfully eating his meal without acknowledging his dad's glance or his brother's looks of disapproval.
Without a warning you were pulled closer by your wrist and forced into sitting next to the Lord, who made a sign for another servant to bring you your food. This… Doesn't feel right at all, you're waiting for the worst to come yet you don't feel like you can ever prepare yourself enough for what they have in store.
"- M-My Lord- This isn't needed, I'm fine. I'll just continue my duties, if you can excuse me-" You plead, while trying to get up from your chair.
"- Oh but what host would I be if I didn't take better care of my guests? Poor thing, you must be starving if you can barely serve us wine-" And as his tone gets progressively more sarcastic and a bit louder, you can hear his sons snickering from the other side of the table, but you can't see them since you can't take your eyes away from him.
You're worried that if you look away for just one second, that you may not be able to see ever again.
"- It's so sad when one of our guests feels hungry- What's worse is when we are also very, very hungry."
"- Thirsty, even!"
"- Oh, I can feel my throat drying just at the thought of such misery!- Our dinner seems to be ruined."
You hear their whispers, you hear how they are clearly joking about this- How overly dramatic they're being over something so miniscule as you just- Ignoring them.
Let me remind you this is all because you refuse to look them in the eyes, that you refuse to give them any satisfaction for the heinous things they have done! You've seen so many people get hurt inside this castle only for their sick and twisted thirst and entertainment.
"- Indeed, my boys. My appetite is ruined, though dinner is not over yet-" Lord Dimitrescu spoke as he looked at his sons clearly enjoying your inevitable pain, but before he could continue he turns himself to you again, putting a hand on your arm and saying:
"- Wouldn't you agree?" Loud enough so that his sons could hear it, but soft enough to send the tiniest shivers down your spine.
"- …!"
"- No, no- Please, not again!-" He wouldn't dare do this, would he??
But before you could react he had already done it, you barely noticed how fast he had grabbed that knife to slice your wrist- His hand firmly gripping your arm as he made a deep enough cut so that your blood could be easier to access.
It somehow hurts just as badly as the first time his sons have stabbed your ankles and dragged you across the floor- At least you're not bumping into things like before, and even if it's a deep cut it's not as big as it could be if he used his claws to actually do this.
Oh, oh those claws- You almost thought he would use them on you… Those were something else. You can't remember exactly what happened, and why it happened, but you remember seeing him use those on another servant who may have crossed the line at some point.
Well "crossed the line"- More like "casually inconvenienced him". Lord Alcino may act like an incredibly high noble but he acts so childishly and in such an egotistical manner that you are surprised he can even have a castle like this in the first place! You don't remember what the servant has done to be so cruelly dismantled, but you don't doubt that it was for a stupid reason!
You miss that servant actually- Probably the only person who you actually talked with, and the first one to actually taught you how to do your job… You two could have been friends if he didn't intervene.
You briefly remember those moments before getting to experience the most weird sensation of all- Having your bloody cut be licked and sucked on. It hurts and it stings in a way that not only makes you want to cry but to also gag at the thought of you feeding this monster.
You refuse to look at him even in this scenario, you refuse to see him feeding off your blood… Sometimes you wish you were just as poisonous as some species of frogs, poisonous enough to make his mouth burn so he can experience a fraction of the pain he causes to others.
You tried fleeting away, you tried getting up and moving away but his grip on your arm only helped you in getting closer to him- You have your eyes closed as your only option is to cry and muffle your agony.
But as always, he is not satisfied with you just ignoring him. This was supposed to be a lesson, yet you're clearly avoiding your teacher as best as you can- But not today, little flower, you're not getting out of this so easily.
This is the first time he ever got to really taste your blood, as normally you would be behind the other servants while trying to learn how to please him, the only moments where he gets to see you is when it's dinner time, but oh- You're just so cruel!
Escaping inside your own little head while he has to content himself with just your image. Your presence is very much appreciated around this hour, little one-
He has noticed this before, of course, but it was only when he noticed his son's curiosity over the way you behave around them that made him organize this little trap. He didn't have everything planned actually, his plan only involved getting to this moment no matter what- And oh boy, has luck been on his side!
Your blood tastes better than expected of a commoner, your delicate and fearful whines of pain are just as delightful but what really gets him is this tough persona you try to convince everyone you have- You despise him, and it's clear to see why- But he knows his charms will probably work on you one way or the other.
He gripped your face trying to make sure you'll get to him in the eyes as he has a taste of you. Absolutely delicious, especially after you so gracefully "ruined" their dinner.
His sons were just watching as they continued to drink from their crimson glasses. They were just enjoying the show, as everything seems to easily amuse them- Their father was just showcasing how they were so much better than the common folk, and they have no other option but to take notes and to remember what they have to do if they ever feel ignored by the servants in the castle: Show who are the true masters of this place.
None of them were really interested in drinking from you, considering how all three seemed to recognize how their father has taken a liking towards you. No one would dare mess with their father's prey.
If you had enough strength in you, you would start vomiting as soon as this has started, but the more he takes from you the more you feel like you can barely stay conscious.
He wasn't supposed to take so much, at least not so soon- He wanted to just take a sip but he can't deny the fact he would rather drown himself in your blood than to let go.
He sighs, as he notices that you're slowly getting less and less aggressive, getting more and more tired as he drains you from this cut.
You're not unconscious yet, just barely stable enough to understand what's going on.
"- Sigh… Now that was a decent enough meal." He can't praise you for being tasty, can't have you being cocky around him.
"- Here, since I'm done here I'll take you to the servant's living quarters- And because I'm so kind I'll make sure that wound is safely secured and cleaned, so here- Come along now."
And as he stood up he offered you his hand so you could get up yourself, but you don't have enough energy to walk yourself to your room, thankfully you're already ready to go to bed and wish to never wake up again.
And as the nightmare never ends, he decides that if you are going to be difficult then you leave him no choice but to carry you there. How much has he taken from you?? Jesus, he should learn some self-control before doing this again- The absolute brute that he is.
Your vision may be a little screwed over because of the lack of red cells running through your body at the moment- But you have a weird feeling that you two aren't heading towards the servant's living quarters, as you feel like you two are quite literally going in the opposite direction.
Oh but it's fine- Right?
It'll be fine. Surely. After all, he already took what he wanted from you, and he doesn't seem to need more so- You probably won't have to worry about anything right now, dinner time is already over, you can finally relax now….
🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭
So I'm sick again- Sorry y'all, I just have a horrible immune system and I really don't understand what is wrong with me-
I'm sorry if you didn't like this boo :(
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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years ago
Text
SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793
IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!
Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.
"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"
"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."
"I think you should talk to Sherlock."
"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"
"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."
"I don't know."
"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."
"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."
"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"
"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.
"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"
"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."
"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."
"I'll try."
About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.
John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.
Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH
John: She said she had a bad night.
Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH
John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?
Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH
John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.
He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.
He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.
You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.
"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.
'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.
"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"
"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."
"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.
"What's this for?"
"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."
"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.
"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"
"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.
"He told me you had a bad night."
"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.
"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."
"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.
"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.
"Uh, Sherlock?"
"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"
"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."
"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."
"What changed your mind?"
"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.
"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.
"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.
"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"
"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."
"Wait, are you telling me that-"
"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."
"But you didn't factor in me."
"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."
"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."
"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."
"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."
"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.
"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.
"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.
"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."
"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.
"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.
"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."
"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.
"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"
"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.
"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"
"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.
"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."
"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."
"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.
"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"
"And that is important because?"
"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.
John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.
Greg: He finally proposed? 😀
John: Not yet, give it a week.
Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.
John: And?
Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.
Greg: 3 days tops.💍
Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.
Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.
Mycroft: If I must.
John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?
Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.
Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰
Sherlock BBC Taglist
@lucywrites02
@delightfulheartdream
@bartv21
@another-crazy-fangirl
@ladylulu143
@gaitwae
@for-hearthand-home
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smallraindrops-blog · 3 years ago
Text
Call It Calamity.
4.2k
Hypnos/Zagreus, unrequited Thanatos/Zagreus
Warnings:just some kissing and alcohol uses. No beta at all.
Hypnos just wanted to be a good brother.
A/N: This is an au but it will run pretty close along the game, just with some differences.been wanting to write for this pairing for a while but wasn't sure I could get it right. Still don't, to be honest. Oh well hope you enjoy it.
The rumor mill was alive and well, even the underworld.
But this was a new one. And not one that Hypnos really believed.
Hypnos wasn't sure what to say when he heard that Zagreus had politely but firmly rejected Thanatos.
No one had told him really what happened, every worker shade Hypnos asked, he got a different answer.
A mistake surely. Even if Zagreus had rejected Thanatos, maybe he meant as a 'Not right now' while he worked though some family issues. And darkness knows with Hades as a father, there were issues.
Hypnos tapped his quill on his ledger, trying to listen to the shade that was telling him it was a bull shark, not a tiger shark that ate him and it was a common mistake really.
"Okay, just let me cross this out." Hypnos said, not really remembering what the shade told him. He just wrote tiger with a question mark.
His eyes kept going to the pool of Styx, waiting for Zagreus to come out. It took an hour before Hypnos just gave up. He made excuses as he quickly floated to his mother.
"Mom, have you heard?" Hypnos said quietly. He went to touch one of her flowers to fidget with something but she batted his hand away. She had gotten very fond of her purple flowers, and even taken up to watering them.
Hypnos wasn't entirely unconvinced that she didn't talk to them when no one else was around.
"Have I heard of what, my child?" Nyx asked. Her eyes watched him carefully, never leaving his face.
"About Zagreus and Thanatos. I've overheard some stuff." Hypnos leaned forward to whisper, "I doubt it is true but I haven't seen either of them."
Nyx sighed, and gave him a very pointed look. "It would be best not to bother them. This is a very personal matter, my child."
Hypnos crossed his arms, not liking the look she gave him. "I just wanted to know if you knew if Thanatos was okay since he isn't talking to me right now. I mean everyone but Zagreus seemed to know how Thanatos feels about him."
"I haven't heard anything, but even if I did this would be a matter best left alone."
Hypnos pouted, "Boo, you're no fun."
She shooed him away, a slight smile on her face. "Now go back to your work, and I will see you later."
Hypnos waved goodbye, a new plan on his mind already.
💤
It wasn't often that Hypnos traveled the underworld itself. Only when he knew Charon could see him for a chat and maybe buy something.
Thankfully for him, Zagreus left a breadcrumb trail of ruin, upset shades and broken urns everywhere.
Elysium was just as beautiful as Hypnos remembered. The lushness of it made him think of his cave with the soft as a cloud grass and poppies everywhere.
Darkness, he missed his cave. And having Thanatos closer and actually being friends with his own twin.
There was a lot he missed.
However, he didn't missed the sound of Zagreus's screams of rage. He drifted into the field and he ducked when an arrow went sailing past his head.
Zagreus in battle reminded Hypnos of the storms of old, more powerful than gods yet desperate with how little time they had left. Beautiful yet terrible.
Zagreus' sword swung down on an unlucky shade and shattered it. Zagreus stumbled backward, panting and sweating. His mismatched eyes darted around, looking for the next fighter.
Zagreus didn't see the two shades behind him, with their spear at ready. Hypnos bit his cheek for a moment, he didn't want to take the spotlight from Zagreus but he already made the trip and it would be a shame if Hypnos didn't even get to talk to Zagreus.
With a snap of his fingers, Hypnos casted a sleep spell over the shades. Zagreus whirled around, surprise on his face at the sleeping shades. After a moment, they melted away without ever waking up.
"Wow." Hypnos dragged out the word and grinned when Zagreus saw him for the first time. His mismatched eyes blinked, not quite believing what he was seeing. "Just some advice, always check behind you."
For a moment, Hypnos thought he saw a flash of hurt before Zagreus' face hardened. This was new, Hypnos mused but so was his presence.
"Hypnos, has Father sent you?" Zagreus asked quietly, his fingers curled tightly on the helt of his sword.
"Oooh, no. I came on my own will, Zagreus." Hypnos waved his hand. Zagreus didn't relax, his eyes still on Hypnos.
Hypnos rolled his eyes, "I just wanted to talk, really."
Zagreus held his battle stance for another moment, his eyes studying Hypnos' face. Then he relaxed, his lips twitched into a small, tired smile and his sword rested against him. Hypnos sighed, while this wasn't the happy, polite Zagreus he knew; this was better than the battle one he just met
"Hypnos, what could be so important you need to come out here to talk to me?" Zagreus froze, "Is everything alright at the house?"
"Yes, yes everyone is fine." Hypnos held his hands up, "I would have been waiting at the house but lately you've been taking too long to die."
Zagreus scoffed, "Excuse me?"
Hypnos wagged a finger, "You used to come back so quickly, but not anymore! Now I've to go forever without seeing your pretty little face, it's so cruel Zagreus." Hypnos joked.
He didn't see the faint blush on Zagreus' cheeks. "Haha, very funny. Alright, Hypnos what can I do for you?"
Hypnos smiled nervously,"I heard a rumour. Of course, I doubt it's true. But just in case, I heard that Thanatos had… talked with you." Hypnos hoped that Zagreus would get the meaning without Hypnos saying that his twin had hit on Zagreus.
The guilty look on Zagreus' face told Hypnos everything.
"Oh. So it is true." Hypnos said. "I mean you don't mean like forever though right?"
Zagreus ran his hand through his hair, his eyes not willing to meet Hypnos' and for some reason, it made Hypnos think of a little boy who did something he was told not to do.
"Really, I thought-" Hypnos spoke but the sharp look from Zagreus cut him off.
"Yeah, so did everyone else. Everyone but me." Zagreus snapped.
"I didn't… I just…" Zagreus struggled to find the words. "I just can't, not for Thanatos, not like that."
Hypnos didn't know what to say. So he didn't say anything. For once in his life he didn't have a smartass reply.
"I'm sorry." Hypnos said finally, "I didn't realize we put this pressure on you. You know you don't have anything to feel guilty about, right?"
Zagreus shrugged, "Is this the only reason you came out?" His toes curled in the grass, leaving burn marks there. Hypnos crocked a brow, he hadn't seen Zagreus do that since they were children.
"I think I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay. I mean I know Thanatos doesn't want to talk to me anymore but I wanted to make sure he and you, of course, were alright. I just happened to find you first."
"Oh." Zagreus said softly. Almost sadly.
Hypnos frowned, he hated when he knew there was something he was missing and he didn't know what to ask or do to get the missing piece.
"You're a good brother, Hypnos." Zagreus said, trying to sound like himself again. He glanced at the chamber's door, Charon's bag gleamed in the glass. "I have to get back to this but I will let Thanatos know you were looking for him if he even shows up..."
After a moment of just studying Zagreus, Hypnos spoke. "Alrighty, but just one more piece of advice."
Zagreus turned back to look at Hypnos, his brows raised.
"I would suggest trying not to die. Crazy, I know." Hypnos said, not able to stop his lips twitching in amusement.
Zagreus laughed,"Oh fantastic advice, like always." He smiled, a real smile and not the tired, sad one he seems to always have lately. "Even if it means you will have to suffer without seeing my pretty face?"
Hypnos places his chest on his chest in mock agony. "Anything for your happiness, Zagreus."
He grinned at Zagreus' laugh. It has been while he heard Zagreus express some else behide urgency or anger.
"Oh, and here." Hypnos tossed Zagreus a small bag who caught it easily with one hand. The obels rustled noisily and Zagreus stared down at the bag.
"Are you sure? Three hundred is a lot of obels." Zagreus blinked, his face unreadable to Hypnos.
Hypnos waved the question away, "Think of this as a bonus of dealing with me taking up your time."
He yawned loudly, "I've better get back before your father notices I am missing. Good luck!"
And with a wave that Zagreus returned, Hypnos vanished.
💤
Of course, Hades noticed the exact second Hypnos abandoned his job.
After much yelling and banging his fist on the desk, Hades freed Hypnos.
He made his own escape quickly. When Hades got like this, It was best to stay out of sight until he got angry with something else.
Hypnos realized that he had missed Zagreus' return amist Hades' raging. He felt a pang of disappointment but shrugged it off. It's not like Zagreus won't be doing another attempt soon after he had some time to lick his wounded pride.
With a sigh, Hypnos returned to his much hated duty and waved forward the next shade.
💤
It was during Hypnos' napping that Thanatos finally showed up.
Hypnos tugged his sleep mask up, "Thanatos! I haven't seen you in forever. Or weeks since the whole you know what." He beamed until he saw how cold Thanatos looked at Hypnos.
"Is everything alright? I mean I heard what happened. I think everyone did. Um, forget I said that. I tried to find you but couldn't and mom wouldn't tell me where you were-" Hypnos rambled nervously.
Thanatos closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Like Hypnos was an annoyance that he wished he could be rid of. Which hurt but Hypnos would move past the hurt if it meant he could talk to his twin again.
"I need to talk to you. Alone." Thanatos said between gritted teeth.
"Are you going to kill me?" Hypnos eyed him. "Because even though you're our mother's favorite, she would be upset with you."
"Hypnos." Thanatos snapped. "Alone. Now."
"Fine! Fine. At the old hangout?" Hypnos asked.
When Thanatos vanished without another word, Hypnos rolled his eyes and murmured "Drama queen." And without even looking at the long line of shades, he followed his brother.
When Hypnos saw his old cave, he sighed happily. The bedchambers at the house were very luxurious and all but he missed this.
Thanatos stood in the middle of the field inside the cave, his arms crossed and his eyes on the river Lethe, the mist that covered the water drifted slowly, hiding the fast undercurrent under it.
Whenever someone tried to drink from the river, Hypnos had to warn them how easy it was for Lethe to pull someone under. And there were quite a few rescues he had to make. Not all of them were successful.
Hypnos floated next to his twin, he tried to decide what to say but settled on waiting for Thanatos to speak.
"Zagreus is getting closer to the surface." Thanatos said quietly, breaking the almost comfortable silence for the first time.
"So, he is." Hypnos agreed. "Once he gets a handle on the damn Satyrs, I don't think anything will be able to stop him."
Hypnos looked at Thanatos as he talked. "Hades had been leaving his desk more often."
Thanatos just nodded, the weight of the unspoken words, of their knowledge, of what hurt that Zagreus will have to face alone weighed on both brothers.
Hypnos stopped floating and stood, they were of equal height and for some reason, Hypnos felt this would be fair for both of them.
"Is this the only reason why you wanted to talk to me? Not anything else, you know like why don't we talk anymore?" Hypnos asked.
"I just don't understand." Thanatos said.
Hypnos tilted his head in confusion. "We all know why he really wants up there, Mom told us, remember? We would do the same in his place."
Thanatos shook his head, "Maybe not all of us. But that isn't what I'm talking about."
For the first time since coming into the cave, Thanatos looked at him. Hypnos was surprised by how sad he looked. There weren't tears but there didn't need to be.
"I don't understand what I don't have but you do." Thanatos said, his mouth twisted.
"Okay, now I don't understand." Hypnos said, "I don't have anything you don't. Unless you count our powers."
Thanatos rolled his eyes, like Hypnos was being dense on purpose. "Haven't Zagreus talked to you?"
"Sure, you mean about your feelings, right? He felt guilty, brother. He really did." Hypnos tapped his fingers against his belt, just to be able to touch something.
Thanatos didn't say anything for a few minutes then he sighed. "So he hasn't then."
"No we did, I found him in Elysium. We talked some." Hypnos watched Thanatos' face carefully, for any hints of what to say.
"Tell me brother, why did you, upon hearing Zagreus rejected me, seek him out?" Thanatos' eyes narrowed at him.
"I was worried! For the both of you. We all thought you guys were it, you know?" Hypnos pushed away the guilt he felt, he had no reasons for it. He never did anything to wreck Thanatos' chances. Not that he would be able to anyway.
"Oh, is that it? Do you really think I would buy that? I saw how your eyes followed him, you know."
Hypnos closed his mouth with a clink of his teeth, and both brothers stared each other down.
Hypnos crossed his arm to match Thanatos. "I have never said or done anything. I knew you cared for him, Thanatos. I wouldn't hurt you like that."
"Not even if Zagreus wanted you?" Thanatos asked.
"It is not really a problem since I can assure you that is not the case." Hypnos said dryly, not happy that Thanatos brought up the impossible.
Thanatos scoffed a laugh at him,"You're an idiot." And he stepped away, not even looking at Hypnos anymore. "I've been away from my job long enough and so have you. Goodbye, Hypnos."
"Hey-" Hypnos reached for his brother but was already gone.
Hypnos gave a shout of resentment, of hurt and kicked the grass. It didn't help the anger so he kicked again and again.
He sat down next to the river, crossed legged and head in his hands.
He loved his brother, really he did but blood and darkness he wanted to shake him sometimes.
💤
When he made it back, Hades wasn't at his desk. Hypnos' heart sank, and he just hoped Zagreus would be able to push through this escape.
Thankfully it wasn't that attempt or the one after that.
It was during Hypnos dealing with two shades, a pair of sisters, arguing over who was at fault for the cart tipping over when Zagreus' name appeared on his ledger. Next to his name, the word Redacted appeared.
Hades did it. The bastard really killed his own son. Hypnos' mouth twisted, anger burned hot in his chest. He would have to play dumb, the less Hades knew what Hypnos and his family knew, the better.
Hypnos looked over the still arguing sisters and noted down, 'killed by inability to communicate with their sibling.'
Hypnos totally wasn't projecting his own issues.
He saw Zagreus step out of the Styx. Even bloodied, Hypnos could see what his brother liked about Zagreus. Zagreus shook off the blood, and Hypnos' eyes unwillingly followed his movements.
Nope, Hypnos tore his eyes away. He didn't see anything, he told himself. Just his brother's crush, he reminded himself. Even if Zagreus didn't return Thanatos' feelings, Hypnos wouldn't do that to his brother.
"Hypnos." Zagreus greeted him and before Hypnos could respond, Zagreus shoved a bottle of nectar in his face. Hypnos grabbed it before he knew what it was and blinked at it.
"Oh for me? You shouldn't have!" Hypnos grinned. He shook the bottle gently, the liquid glittered in the candle light.
"It's my thanks for the gift you gave me before. It was a huge help." Zagreus said softly.
"Anything for you, Zagreus." Hypnos grinned. He could see a sadness that cling to Zagreus, and wondered if he should say something. His chest twisted with how helpless he felt. He wanted to take away the sadness and make sure he never felt it again.
"Do you want to go see my old hangout?" Hypnos said before he could stop himself. Zagreus perked up a little, "The cave, right?"
Hypnos grabbed Zagreus' shoulder and pulled him along for the ride. The sisters are still loudly arguing in front of the line.
💤
It was nice to return a second time. It was much calmer than the house. The house carried a heaviness to it that made it hard to call it home. And Hypnos had no plans for staying forever in that place.
Inside the cave, it was lit only by the numerous candles that floated about and the river Lethe's own light but it was enough to see most of the field inside.
Zagreus immediately began walking around, his eyes drifting from the river to candles to the little poppies dotted the land to the cottonwood that lined the cave's wall. Hypnos just watched him explore.
"This is much more calming than the house." Zagreus said as he turned back to Hypnos. "Why do you stay at the house? This seems much more like you."
Hypnos floated closer to Zagreus, "It was part of the whole deal, me and everyone else had to stay at the house. Or close to it, so Hades could 'keep an eye on us'. Charon is the only exception because he bonded too close to the Styx to stay long."
At his father's name, Zagreus sighed bitterly. "I swear, that old man causes everyone problems and for no good reasons."
"You telling me." Hypnos agreed. Normally he would try to be nicer but the word Redacted flashed into his mind. And an overwhelming sense of anger for Zagreus who just wanted to see his mother again.
"Come on, I know where the comfortable spots are." Hypnos floated toward the river, waving Zagreus along.
He and Zagreus sat close to the river, where the most plush grass grew. It took Zagreus a few minutes to settle, as if he had forgotten what it was like not to move all the time.
Zagreus's fingers dipped into the mist as Hypnos worked the cork out the bottle.
One loud pop later, and the sweet nectar was his. He took a sip from the bottle and hummed. "Thanks. Do you want some?" Hypnos wiggled the bottle, thinking Zagreus would say no like he normally did.
But Zagreus didn't this time. "Sure, thank you." He took the bottle from Hypnos and hummed at the taste.
Hypnos tried not to think about the fact Zagreus' mouth was where he was a moment ago.
Zagreus grimaced as he handed back the bottle, "I forgot how strong those are."
"Lightweight." Hypnos teased, his tone fond and Zagreus shoved at his shoulder with a laugh. He took a big sip and handed it back to Zagreus.
It's not weird if you don't make it weird, Hypnos told himself.
They passed the drink a few more times, until it was close to being empty. "Want the last bit?" Hypnos asked, feeling a slight buzz. Zagreus shook his head, his cheeks were more flushed than Hypnos.
Zagreus looked good like this, flushed and relaxed, and it took all of Hypnos' willpower to pull his eyes away.
Hydnos tossed the now empty bottle next to him and sighed. He bit his cheek, this was probably a mistake but Thanatos' words had been haunting him.
"Have Thanatos checked up on you?" Hypnos tugged at the grass, trying not to think about how close Zagreus was.
Zagreus shrugged, "Not really. He had been helping in some of the fights but he disappeared before I could talk to him."
"He had a weird conversation with me. First time in months that he talked to me and it was about you." Hypnos grumbled.
Zagreus' shoulders tensed up and he wouldn't look at Hypnos. "I have to apologize, Hypnos. I think I might have made it worse between you and Thanatos."
"Zagreus, whatever is going on with Thanatos and me has been going on for a long while. There was nothing you did to cause this rift." Hypnos leaned back on his hands. "I know he cares for you, always has. It was a weird conversation. He sounded like- like… I don't know. I can't explain it."
Zagreus said nothing to that. Hypnos noticed how Zagreus' toes curled into the grass. He almost said something about it but he didn't want Zagreus to get self conscious and stop so he kept his mouth shut.
Zagreus plucked a nearby poppy, full bloom and a vivid red. He spinned between his fingers before he turned to Hypnos who crooked a brow at him. Zagreus very carefully placed the flower on Hypnos' ear and smiled, "That is a good look for you."
Hypnos snorted, "Your highness, I do believe you're a little drunk right now." He grinned at the pout Zagreus gave him.
Zagreus simply plucked another poppy, and placed it in one of Hypnos' curls. His hand stopped and Zagreus lightly stroked his hair.
"Hypnos, would I upset you if I try something?" Zagreus asked softly.
"Probably not, you are already putting flowers in my hair." Hypnos said, alarm bells were going off in his head but he couldn't be bothered to listen.
Zagreus cupped the back of Hypnos' head, fingers buried in his curls and pulled him into a chaste kiss.
Hypnos' heart stopped for a moment and suddenly the talk he had with Thanatos came back in sharp clarity.
But all Hypnos knew at this second was how nectar tasted on Zagreus' lips and how warm the prince of the underworld felt.
Hypnos knew he was going to hate himself for this. But he did it anyway. May the fates and Thanatos forgive him, but Hypnos knew this would be the first and last time.
Hypnos pressed into the kiss, pleased at the soft gasp Zagreus gave and slowly they both deepened the kiss.
Hypnos wrapped an arm around Zagreus' waist and pulled him closer. They broke the kiss for a moment, for breath but Zagreus quickly returned.
Hypnos felt like he was drowning. Between the sweetness of Zagreus's kisses, the shared heat between them and his guilt of doing this, Hypnos was sure he might be going mad.
After somewhere between an eternity and a few minutes, Hypnos pulled away. He and Zagreus stared at each other, lips full and cheeks equally flushed.
Hypnos stared, trying to remember everything of this moment. His heart felt so full but he already could feel the cracks forming.
Zagreus was so beautiful, so unlike anything or anyone else he ever saw. Hypnos loved him for that reason alone.
"Zagreus-" Hypnos' voice cracked, "I can't, you have to understand. I really can't, not to my brother."
Zagreus shushed him, cupped Hypnos' face in his hands. "I know. You're a good brother."
And Zagreus kissed him again. Hypnos went along almost mindlessly.
"If I could, I would." Hypnos murmured against Zagreus' lips.
Zagreus pressed a quick kiss before pulling away. "You can, I'm willing to deal with whatever happens, are you?"
Hypnos hated how much he wanted to bend to Zagreus, to give in. "My brother will never forgive me.* He said weakly.
"He will, he is your brother and he loves you too. He just has a different way of showing it."
Hypnos mutely shook his head and Zagreus sighed.
"I will wait then. However long it will take." Zagreus said decidedly.
"What? Zagreus, no I can't do that to you." Hypnos looked into Zagreus' eyes as he pressed his forehead against Zagreus'. "Listen, I don't know if he and I will ever be friends again and I don't want you to lose out on something because you are waiting around for me to get my stuff together."
"I already decided. You're not the only with stuff left unfinished. I still need to find my mother and deal with my father. Will you wait for me?" Zagreus asked softly.
"Centuries-" Zagreus kissed him but Hypnos kept talking. "Millenniums. Zagreus, I didn't know this was a possibility. I thought you wouldn't even look at me twice."
"I thought you didn't notice me, Hypnos. I thought you just saw me as someone bothering you with how paperwork I must create."
"How could I not notice you, Zagreus? I just couldn't do anything about it." Hypnos said helplessly.
His and Zagreus' eyes meet, and Hypnos' heart shattered. He knew it was decided the moment they kissed, they would have to deal with the consequences of their actions. With his brother, with Zagreus' own family and everything else he couldn't think about right now.
But at least, it would be together.
This time Hypnos pulled Zagreus into a kiss.
All in due time. For now, Hypnos wanted to enjoy this time for as long as he could.
Fin
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ifmywishescametrue · 4 years ago
Note
Hi!!! First of all, I am like🥺 such a fan of everything you write! And so I saw that you’re taking prompts and thought I’d try my luck. So, if you’re inspired of course, maybe you would do “I’m not leaving” or “I’m glad you’re here” (or literally any prompt from that list bc they’re all just🥺🥺) for Steve/Tony? Oh, and as a fellow Swiftie, I hope you’re ready for the Fearless re-release tomorrow !!!🤯 bc I’m looking forward to crying my way through this weekend🥲🥰🥺💖💞
hi!!! thank you so much, and I’m so sorry this took so long! but i also managed to put both prompts into it so hopefully that makes up for it lol. also the fearless re-recordings are so insanely good and the vault songs are god tier!!
Tony has a vision in his mind for the day he graduates from college. It’s been there since he was just a kid and the furthest ahead he could imagine for himself was that day. At the time it seemed like a hundred years away, and it carried an allure of freedom that was nearly unfathomable back then. 
He always thought Ana and Jarvis would be there, sitting next to his mom. Howard came and went from the vision, because sometimes Tony would dream that it would be the day he was finally proud of him and sometimes he would be out of Tony’s life completely by then. When Steve comes into his life in middle school, new to California from Brooklyn, he gets added to that vision, too. 
The reality ends up disappointing. 
It’s been a few months since Jarvis passed, a couple of years since his parents died, and even longer since Ana’s death, but it hurts a little more today. All of the empty seats make Tony’s chest ache. Steve’s absence makes it even worse, even if he understands it. It’s not the first time the army made him miss something big, and Tony knows it won’t be the last. At least he’d been apologetic on the phone. A little sad, even, which made Tony feel worse for it. 
After the ceremony ends, Rhodey slings his arm around his shoulder and Pepper walks on his other side. 
“Just once I wish they’d pick someone actually good to speak at these things,” Rhodey complains. “That was so cheesy.”
“You mean you aren’t excited for the first day of the rest of our lives?” Pepper teases. 
Tony laughs, “I thought the real low point was that joke he tried to make in the middle. Not too inspiring to imply that our degrees are essentially useless.”
“No, I love knowing that I’ve wasted the last four years.”
Rhodey hums, “Also wish he was a little more wrong about that.”
Rhodey’s family starts to call his name, waving enthusiastically from where the large group of them is huddled together. Pepper’s parents stand with them, looking so clearly like the odd ones out that it makes Tony grin. 
“I see your families are getting along just fine,” Tony says, watching Pepper’s mom bounce one of Rhodey’s cousins in her arms. 
“They’ve joined forces to nag us to death about getting married,” Pepper sighs, but there’s a fond smile on her face that betrays her. 
“Trying to get you to set a date?”
Rhodey grins, “Trying to get me to propose, actually.”
“You proposed last month,” Tony frowns and looks down at her left hand, which is surprisingly bare. “I didn’t hallucinate that, did I?”
Pepper pulls her necklace out from where it was hidden beneath her collar. The ring sits on a delicate silver chain, diamond glittering in the sunlight for just a moment before she tucks it away again. She puts her index finger to her lips to tell him to keep it quiet, and Tony laughs. 
“What did your innocent families do to deserve this?”
“There are no innocents in our families,” Rhodey says seriously. “We’re just buying ourselves some time until nagging me into proposing turns into everybody trying to plan our wedding for us.”
“My mother has terrible taste,” Pepper adds.
Waving from their families has turned into walking their way, and Tony gets sucked into the fold along with the two of them. He means to slip away after a few minutes, but no one lets that happen. Rhodey’s mom hugs him tightly and tells him he needs to eat more, followed immediately by how proud she is, and his cheeks turn pink under her attention. Somehow she wrangles him into joining them for the celebration dinner, but he can’t say that he minds much when he’s sitting with all of them. The laughter and stories take his mind off the melancholy feeling that’s been following him around lately, and it isn’t until he’s back in his quiet apartment much later in the day that he thinks about it again. 
His hand twists into the chain around his neck, dog tags clinking together. They’re the first ones Steve got, back when he was newly enlisted after high school, and the letters are worn down beneath Tony’s thumb as he traces the shape of Steve’s name. He remembers that first time Steve put them around his neck and told him to keep them safe while he was gone. It was a promise to come back, and on the worst nights they’re both a comfort and a curse. 
Leaning back against the closed door, he looks at the messy room in front of him. Finals week left him with little time for anything other than studying, and that coupled with his existing propensity for disorder, it looks a bit like a smaller tornado crossed through the apartment. Mugs stained with brown rings on the inside litter the coffee table, accompanied by pages of notes, pens, and uncapped highlighters. The blanket has fallen into a crumpled pile on the floor, and Tony is contemplating if he has the will to clean it all up when there’s a knock right behind his head. 
He assumes it’s Rhodey and Pepper, here to decompress after finally untangling themselves from their families, and he turns around to open the door with a light-hearted remark already on his lips. Whatever it was leaves his mind immediately at what he finds instead.
“Hey, baby,” Steve smiles. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
Tony means to say something in return, but all that he actually manages is a choked out sob. He doesn’t fully realize he’s crying until Steve’s hands are on his cheeks to brush away the tears. 
“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” Steve murmurs, and Tony clutches at every part of him that he can reach. He grips the rough fabric of the fatigues, clings to his arms and shoulders and back, and he can’t possibly get close enough. 
“You’re here,” Tony whispers when he eventually finds his breath again. “You’re here, you’re actually here.”
Steve’s hand strokes through his hair, and his other hand is holding on to Tony just as tight as Tony is holding on to him. “I’m here, baby.”
He isn’t sure how long they stand there like that, swaying slightly as they hang on to each other, but it must be quite a long while before he can let go again. Even then, though, he doesn’t let Steve go very far. They fall onto the couch in one tangled mess of limbs. Tony puts his chin on Steve’s chest to look at him, and Steve looks back with a soft smile that almost makes him want to cry again. There’s a small, faded scratch on Steve’s cheek that wasn’t there before, and Tony reaches out to trace it with the tip of his finger. 
“I’m glad you’re here,” Tony says quietly, like if he speaks any louder, the lovely little bubble they’re in will break. 
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be here earlier,” Steve says again. “I really tried, but -”
Tony interrupts him with a shake of his head, “It’s okay. You’re here now.”
“I’ll be here for a while, I promise.”
Tony smiles, but there’s a dull, familiar ache in his chest at the thought that it will eventually come to end anyway. “How long do I have you for?”
Instead of answering, Steve shuffles a bit beneath him, hand worming its way into his pocket. He pulls out a folded paper and hands it to Tony, expression unreadable. Tony sits up a little to read it, and by the time he’s finished reading every single line to make sure it’s real, his hand is shaking. 
“You - you’re - discharged?” Tony stammers out. “You’re done?”
Steve nods, grin slowly forming as he watches Tony process it. “Was sort of hoping that might make up for missing the ceremony this morning.”
Tony laughs, light and carefree in a way that he hasn’t felt in four years. He kisses Steve with everything he has, paper crinkling between them, and between one kiss and the next, Steve reassures, “I’m not leaving, sweetheart. Never leaving again.”
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kaistarus · 4 years ago
Text
Welcome Home
Tumblr media
Pairing: NishinoyaXReader
Words: 1.3K
Summary: Nishinoya is visiting Japan after being away for a while, but when his sister forgets to pick him up he thinks he’s stranded.
A/N: This idea has been festering for a while. I’ve been wanting to write a Nishinoya airport fic since I started writing for him so here it finally is lol
Masterlist
Nishinoya rolled his shoulder, leaning against the headrest in front of him while he gazed out the small window. The slick ground was lined with blinking red lights-the only source of guidance in the pitch-black night as the plane rolled slowly toward the loading dock. He watched crew members in neon vests chat while loading cargo into the plane in the closest gate before the pilot gave parting instructions.
The sound faded to the background with the rest of the passenger’s chatter as he tugged his duffel from the overhang. He yawned, palming an eye as he shuffled toward the jetwalk with the other exhausted travelers. His eyes landed on an elderly couple whose hands were clasped together as they sleepily moved in front of him.
A pang struck Nishinoya’s chest.
It had been a long time since Nishinoya had been back in Japan. He loved traveling-meeting new people, experiencing new cultures, eating new food-but sometimes it was hard not having a permanent place to call home. 
He ruffled through his pocket to pull his phone as the familiar scene of the airport came into view. The flow of people continued toward the baggage claim as he fished for his eldest sister’s contact.
“Hey, Yuu,” she yawned into the receiver. Nishinoya furrowed his brow and the sound of sheets ruffling.
“I just landed.”
The line was quiet for a moment. “That was today?”
His grip on the phone tightened. “What do you mean ‘that was today?’ we’ve been talking about this for months?”
Nishinoya’s shoulders stiffened when he realized a few people were glaring at him for raising his voice, including a woman bouncing a small child nobody wanted awake. He smiled warily before turning away, clenching his teeth in frustration. “We talked about it yesterday.”
“It must’ve slipped my mind,” she said nonchalantly. The amount of control it took him not to yell was painful.
“How am I supposed to get back?”
“Metro or something?”
“Metro or some-” He scoffed. “It’s a three hour fucking drive. It would be like five or six hours with how many transfers I’d have to-”
“Why don’t you call (Y/N)?” She yawned again, cutting him off and setting his blood boiling. “I’m sure they’d give you a ride.”
Nishinoya felt everything freeze and his grip on the phone tightened. “They’re busy.”
“You’re so stupid.”
“Shut up,” he growled. “You said you were coming, so that’s what-”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
“What do you mean I’ll-” The line went dead and he stared slack jaw at his phone.
What the actual fuck had just happened. He shoved his phone deep in his pocket, seething as he stomped down the staircase toward the baggage claim. He supposed he could call Asahi or Tanaka, but with how long the drive was he may as well just get himself home and not waste their time.
He didn’t even humor a cab with how expensive it would be.
Nishinoya wanted to call you. He wished for every excuse to call you, but you informed him you were too busy to see him. After over a year of not seeing each other Nishinoya had imagined you’d drop everything when he said he was coming back, but at your casual reaction he had felt his heart break. He wasn’t sure if he could even bring himself to pull up your contact.
He groaned, instead rehearsing the speech he was going to give his sister once he kicked down her door. How the hell had she forgotten? She had been the one who bought his plane ticket to Japan. She had been the one who reminded him of his flight that day. She had even nagged him about not packing last minute like he usually did.
He stomped dramatically once he got off the stairs, his eyes flickering at people meeting their loved ones who actually cared enough to pick them up. He watched family’s hug, friends poke at vending machines, some weirdo slept against a wall, people answered cheery phone calls, unlike his that had been-. Nishinoya did a double take and his steps slowed as his brain processed the sleeping weirdo.
He abruptly turned and crept over, crouching in front of the person who he did in fact know.
You were slumped beside a vending machine, your head hanging limp to the side with your sweatshirt bundled for a pathetic pillow. Your arm was slung across your stomach and in your hand was your cell phone, blinking with unread notifications. In your other hand was a small poster board that Nishinoya’s hand was levitating toward.
Your nose wrinkled and you let out a soft whine, shuffling around before your eyes slowly blinked open. Nishinoya smirked, hiding that his heart was racing a million miles a second.
“Good morning.”
Your eyes took a while to focus and he could see the cogs in your brain turning before your eyes widened. He opened his mouth to tease you, but you were diving forward and wrapping your arms around his neck before he could get a word out, knocking him flat on his butt.
“You’re here,” you laughed, pulling back and cradling his cheeks, then you pressed his cheeks firmly and furrowed your brow. “You’re here…” Panic struck your face. “You’re here.”
Nishinoya blinked at the stages of grief you’d gone through and nodded in your grasp. “I’m here.”
“Oh no,” you leaned forward and placed your head against his chest. “I fell asleep.”
“You did.” He tugged your hands off his cheeks, coaxing your head off his chest and smiling at you softly. “You’re lucky someone didn’t steal your stuff.”
“That’s not what I-” You groaned, sitting back. “I wanted to be here to see you and I made a stupid sign like your always talking about and it was going to be romantic.”
He cocked his head to the side, mulling what you said over before reaching for the poster from earlier. On the back he read your neat handwriting ‘Ride for Nishinoya Yuu’ and his chest filled with warmth. He always complained to you about everyone having a cool chauffeur when he landed places, so this was your lame attempt at giving him that.
He met your disappointed look and with an affectionate stare, pulling you back against his chest.
“I love you so much,” he confessed. Nishinoya felt you grip the front of his shirt and he pulled away and panicked when he heard a sniffle. “Are you crying?”
“No, shut up.”
“Liar,” he smirked, wiping at a stray tear trailing down your cheek. “You’re totally crying.”
“I said, shut up,” you palmed your cheeks. “I missed you, okay? Sue me.”
Nishinoya’s heart swelled at the confession and he felt like an idiot for ever thinking you would stop caring about him. He leaned his forehead against yours, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. “I missed you too.”
“Sorry, I lied,” you mumbled, lightly holding the wrist of the hand holding your face. “I wanted to surprise you, but you sounded sad and I felt terrible.”
Nishinoya leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours shortly and pulling back with a dopey smile. “I love you.”
You matched his smile, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you, too.” You nuzzled against the crook of his neck. “Welcome home.”
He let those words sink in as he wrapped his arms around you, sitting on the floor of the airport while his duffel rotating forgotten on the nearby luggage claim. He felt silly, how moments earlier he’d been thinking about how he wandered with nowhere to call home when his home was right here.
His hold around you tightened.
His home was you.
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mysticpetals · 4 years ago
Note
Sorry for bothering you, but I had another idea! :D If you don't mind me sending two requests, how about a headcanon (or imagine if you want, you can choose what you like best) where Jake will meet MC's parents and he is super nervous because he is afraid of what they will think of him and if they knew that he is a hacker. But when Jake and MC arrive at her parents' house, they are quite different than Jake thought.
I'm sooooo sorry that this is super late but life got in the way and I just couldn't bring myself to write. And when I did have the time, I was almost ashamed of how long it had been and delayed it even further.
So this is me, finally writing what I should have done months ago. Thank you so much for your patience!!! ❤️
Jake and f!MC headcannons
(meeting the parents)
There aren't a lot of things that phase Jake
In fact, he's seen so much over the years he was on the run, done some illegal things too
But nothing and he meant nothing, could terrify him more than when his girlfriend told him that her parents had invited them over to have dinner together the next week
"next week? Like....like seven days later?"
"yes." she nodded and his brain short circuited.
"oh my god, oh my god."
MC amused herself by looking at Jake panicking about it for a few minutes and then grabbed his shoulders and made him look at her
"relax, babe. You don't have to. I can tell them that you're busy or something."
Jake calmed down for a moment but then he noticed the sad smile on MC's face
And he doesn't like seeing her sad
At all.
So despite his nervousness, he steeled himself to do this
"why don't we go? I think it'll be fun."
MC's face was priceless.
Shocked beyond belief, she cupped his face in her hands and leaned forward, eyes wide
"are you sure, honey? You don't have to force yourself."
She looked so hopeful and excited to hear his answer
And they had been dating for a while. So it was only natural that they meet each other's families
And since MC had already pretty much met his (only the people he considered as one!), it wouldn't be fair if he didn't make an effort too
"yes. We should go," he smiled and MC squealed excitedly, pressing a quick kiss to his lips
"oh my gosh, I'm so excited!! I'll go call them right now!!"
:))))
Did he make the right decision?
Wellllll, standing in front of MC's house, he was sweating profusely
He had worn his best outfit, a white button up shirt and black jeans
And they had already been late because MC liked his look a little too much
Anyway!!!
He was anxious about making the best impression and he really hoped that they wouldn't be put off by his shyness
Or his profession
About which they didn't know
It's fine it's fine it's fine—
MC's hand slips into his, she gives him a soft smile and the world around them fades away
"I'll be with you the whole time. Tell me if it becomes too much."
Jake swears he's never been more in love
Okay, he can do this!! Absolutely!!
He nods resolutely and MC leads them to her parent's doorstep
Jake's heart is pounding but he's ready
The door opens and he's immediately engulfed in a bone crushing hug
He thinks he can't breath and he looks at MC with wide eyes, asking what to do and she just rolls her eyes in fond exasperation
"really feeling the love here, dad. Not like your daughter is here."
And the weight immediately lifts off of him and turns towards his girlfriend who is laughing as her father hugs her to himself
She squeezes him tight in return and Jake feels himself smile
"it's been too long. I wish you'd come by more. And Jake! Welcome home, son!"
Jake is flabbergasted by the warm welcome. Especially coming from MC's father.
Aren't fathers supposed to threaten the boyfriend?
The flashcards he used to prepare for today did not cover this
"Um, thank you," he stammers out somehow and the man laughs
"My daughter here did say you were shy but no matter! Come on in, I won't bite."
He led them inside and Jake just knew that MC was enjoying all this a little too much judging by the amused tilt of her lips
He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw a stern woman sitting on the couch, watching them walk in
"mom! How have you been?"
MC immediately went in for a hug while the older woman kept staring at him and MC's father leaned close to him and whispered
"She's a tough cookie to crack. Good luck, son."
He was so screwed
Jake gulped and watched the smallest of smiles cross her lips as she regarded her daughter, who was talking excitedly
"and this is Jake! My boyfriend!"
Jake literally felt the temperature inside the room drop, when her mother looked him in the eyes
"h-hello ma'am."
She nodded at him and well, that meant she acknowledged who he was, right?
She immediately turned away from him and started asking her daughter how she had been
Well, apparently not
"sorry, Jake. She's not trying to exclude you. She's just....a little hard around the edges."
He appreciated MC's dad because at least one parent didn't seem to hate him
"I appreciate that, sir."
He looked horrified at being called sir
"please don't call me that. Makes me feel old. Call me dad!"
Jake was once again astounded by the man's openness and not wanting to offend him, nodded hesitantly
He smiled widely and Jake was immediately reminded of MC's face when she laughed
"that's more like it! Come on now, the ladies shouldn't be left alone, they'll talk the night away."
MC smiled as soon as Jake entered in the kitchen where both the women were cooking and bringing out the cutlery
"had a nice chat, you two?" MC asked and her father nodded enthusiastically
"I like him! He's very nice, I approve."
"you've known him for two seconds." MC's mom deadpans and Jake smiles nervously
"can I help you with anything ma'am?"
She appraises him for a few moments and then nods
"then please help MC set the table."
Jake literally sighs in relief when the two of them come out from the kitchen
"your mom is scary."
MC laughs and pinches his cheek
"only because you look terrified of her. She enjoys making you squirm."
"well I almost wet myself because she looked at me like I murdered her dog or something"
MC laughs loudly and her father pokes his head out of the kitchen
"alright you two?"
Jake fights off the blush he knows he's sporting and prays that neither of her parents heard what he had said
Table was set quickly, with MC telling Jake about her childhood memories and her parents brought out the food
Jake thought he might have seen MC's mother smile when he made MC laugh but he wasn't sure
Dinner was a loud affair, with MC and her dad competing about who remembers the most about MC's childhood and Jake and her mother listening quietly
He definitely knew where MC got her charisma from
MC's dad was sweet to include Jake in their conversation, addressing him directly and asking him about his own experiences
He slowly found himself relaxing in their presence and telling them about his own hobbies and pet cat
MC's mother gave an approving nod at his choice of pet and asked him to bring him along the next time
Next time
Jake's brain short circuited at the thought that she wanted Jake to come over again
Does that mean tonight was successful?
"so Jake, you didn't say what you do for a living."
Ahhh
Well, it had to go wrong somewhere, right?
Jake froze and looked to MC to see her in a similar state and immediately deduced that she had not told them about his profession
Well
He knew this was going to come up eventually
"I'm a hacker."
Pin drop silence
You couldn't even hear anyone breath over the quietness
MC's mother put down her spoon slowly and opened her mouth to say something but Jake interrupted her before that
"I know you might think it's not a respectful job but it's what makes me happy. And MC supports me every step of the way and I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to honor her confidence in me. Keeping her safe and happy and healthy is my priority and I'll give my all to make sure that she's never unhappy with me."
Everyone at the table looked at him, MC with tears in her eyes and her father looking very proud
Her mother's expression was still unreadable until she smiled at him
The first smile directed at him
"I was going to say that's very interesting. I myself work in cyber security so I've had dealings with hackers. I've found that they're usually very polite."
What
The
Fuck
Jake blinked slowly and MC shifted guiltily in her seat
"haha what a coincidence, right?" She smiled nervously and her dad picked up quickly at her hint
"oh definitely! Why don't you two talk about work stuff and MC and I can clear up the table?"
MC and her father practically fly out of the dining room and Jake and her mom are the only ones left
It was MC's mother who initiated the conversation this time and Jake replied to her questions
He found it quite pleasant to be honest
It was not a regular occurrence that he could chat with someone who knew about computers so this was a nice change
And MC's mom was quite knowledgeable
She even offered to hire him the next time her company had a need of someone to check their software
Jake had no problem agreeing to her wish
He found that she was actually a very kind but fair woman who loved her family dearly, judging by the way she spoke of MC and her father
His heart warmed to know that MC had grown up in such a loving household, even if his heart gave a twinge at never having felt something akin to parental affection
"okay, you two. I think that's enough chatting for today," MC's father said and Jake looked at the time
Holy shit
How is it so late??
MC gave him a discreet thumbs up behind her mother's back and he had to stifle a laugh
"as much as we loved having you two, you should probably get going if you want to reach the city before midnight."
The goodbyes were a little sad and Jake found himself getting a bit emotional too
He really felt like he belonged here and not like an outsider
And MC's parents are so nice and inclusive
No he did not cry
Not at all
To Jake's surprise, MC's mom pulls him into a hug
"take care of my daughter."
And then he's getting roped into another hug, this one much tighter by her dad
"you hurt her, I'll kill you."
And when he stepped back, he was smiling as usual and Jake almost thought that he imagined his words
Anyway!!!
They are in the car and MC is already planning their next trip
And before he would have been scared but now, after spending time with her family, he knew he had found people worth considering his family
116 notes · View notes
angry-geese · 4 years ago
Text
At Dawn’s Break III
PB!Dio Brando x Maid!Reader, Jonathan Joestar x Reader (platonic)
Warnings: none! sfw, mention of death, but nothing too graphic. Mostly plot. Not the healthiest relationship dynamic. Technically yandere Dio but its very tame
Notes: Part One- sfw, Part Two- nsfw, Part Four - nsfw
This has been in my drafts for so long I’m so sorry. I do have a friend helping me edit my ao3 stuff so there might be some grammatical differences between that and the stuff posted here but i'll try to keep it as consistent as possible- story-wise its still the same.
In the coming months, word would arrive of your father’s death.
Sad wasn’t the right word for it. The man was old, sick, and frail. He fell ill and never recovered. Things like that happen. It was expected. His passing was quiet, happening in the early hours in the morning. You had grieved his death long before it actually happened. Your love for him was more out of a sense of duty than anything else. He was never a proper parent, the harsh expectations of life were thrown upon you rather young. At nineteen you were left as the sole guardian of your siblings. Some nights you would scream about the unfairness of it all, others you would wallow in your pity. The constant "sorry for your loss"s infuriated you. It would not bring him back. It would not fix this hole you've dug for yourself. It did nothing to justify what you've gone through. The world wasn't going to stop spinning just for you to feel sorry for yourself.
So you returned to work.
Your meetings with Dio grew fewer and further apart. Your conversations were short, ending with arguments. What he could dish out, you threw right back. Often you found yourself bitter and frustrated with him, leaving much space between the two of you. It wasn’t that you loved him any less, but he wasn’t exactly understanding in this matter. Neither of his fathers- adopted or biological- could he stand. Putting it plainly: Dio was awful at comforting people. Sympathy was not one of his strong suits. Going to him for comfort was out of the question.
Your life was soon after consumed by the mundane nature of work. The repetition of it you found soothing. It was nice to have a routine. Even if Dio wasn’t there for you, it was. The head maid took notice in your sudden interest in work, and blamed Dio for your lacking efforts. You just nodded and kept your head down.
Mr. Joestar would soon fall ill. Due to his old age, it didn’t come as a surprise to many. Very few questioned it. He was older, but seemingly healthy at the time. He fell sick overnight with the flu, which soon turned to pneumonia. It was not looking like he would recover. His coughing fits could be heard from across the manor. Much of it reminded you of your own father, so you often stayed away, only coming around when it was asked of you.
It makes you wonder if Dio feels the same sense of duty to his father. Probably not. He does not understand family ties in the same way you do. He was very attentive when Mr. Joestar fell ill, often providing medicine for him. If you were called to help, he would go in your place. It feels false, like a mockery of a doting son. Yes- he's providing for his father, but it feels like an alien trying to copy a human. Like a robot trying to replicate human love. It’s not out of any kindness in his heart. What he feels isn’t love. Sometimes you don’t think he’s capable of it. But if he did love something, it was power. He’d never admit it, but it was also you. Having you so consumed with grief enraged him. It was a childish want for attention that he found hard to conceal. He never took out his anger on you, finding himself afraid of turning out to be like his birth father driving his mother into an early grave. Often he thought about how easily he could force your hand, make you chose between him and your family. Deep down he didn’t want to toss out an ultimatum. You had just as much of a bite as him; unstoppable force meets immovable object. In no way he saw that ending well. Others had noticed the growing distance between you. People talked- as they did- rumors spread.
“Y/N.” Jonathan’s voice startles you.
“Mister Joestar, how-”
“Call me Jonathan.”
You cringe at the interruption.
“Jonathan.” You say. “How can I help you?”
“Will you take a walk with me?”
He guides you out to the garden. Winter has left it scraggly and barren, washed out in cold, white light. A few wilting leaves cling to the trees. Only a handful of rooms are lit within the house. It feels personal, being dragged through the place where you spent so many of your nights with your lover. Calling him that feels strange. Lover seems like too innocent of a word.
Over your time at the Joestar estate, there isn’t much you know about Jonathan. Dio talked of him. Often. It was never good, though he had a way of exaggerating things. By now you’ve learned to take it with a grain of salt. Your meetings with the second Joestar son have been few and rather brief. He seems sweet, albeit a bit naive and too engrossed in high society to talk with the likes of you. The girls in the kitchen swoon over him, although he’s sweet on a neighbor girl. Erina- you’ve heard of her. She’s been over for dinner before.
"How are you?" He asks.
"Fine, I suppose." You say, a bit irritated with the small talk. "What is it you need of me?"
"I heard what happened," absentmindedly he picks at his nails, "and I wanted to give my condolences. I imagine this situation is... unpleasant for you."
"I manage." You say. "But I doubt that's what you brought me out here for."
He nods. "I wanted to ask you something."
"Then ask away. I'd be happy to answer."
“You’re close with Dio, aren’t you?” He asks.
“A bit. Why?”
While you’re almost certain he knows, it feels easier to lie. You were not the star-crossed lovers that Jonathan and Erina were, the type of partners that made the girls you work with swoon and wish for such a thing, the type of love people write books about but fail to recreate. Your relationship was more out of a mutual agreement than it was proper love, but you suppose it was there. The two of you were angry, scathing people who were capable of god knows what. Together you could be terrifying.
“You two seem to spend quite a lot of time together.” He says. “Have you noticed anything strange with him?”
“No.” You say. “I haven't noticed anything like that."
"He's awfully attentive with father..."
"It's bizarre." You say. He laughs.
"I'm heading to London in a few days- to the university. Father's medicine hasn't been working, and I want it to be examined." From his coat pocket he produces a small green bottle. it's familiar. Dio has one quite like it.
"Do you need anything while you're away?" You ask, wishing to get back to your work. There was laundry that needed to be done.
"No," he says, turning to you, "thank you for your time. I should get going."
Before you can leave, he stops you.
"I know it's no business of mine, but my brother is bad news. You're a sweet girl and I don't want anything to happen to you. Dio is capable of things you couldn't even imagine."
"You're right. It is no business of yours."
He gives you a quick goodbye before leaving you alone in the garden.
Over time, Dio has grown more serious about keeping you close. He has a malicious, possessive streak to him. Your recent distance has only brought that out more. There is no talk of marriage- his adoptive father would never approve- but he talks of the future. Often. For you, the future meant work. To some extent, you could live with that. You never knew what it meant for him. He jokes of world domination.
You’re not quite sure you want to rule the world, but you do want to get out of London.
You stop just under the apple tree. It’s sickly and sad looking. The last of the fruit has fallen off and rotted. A few wilting leaves cling onto the branches. Jonathan gives you a quick goodbye, before returning to the house.
The door to his room is open. A lantern is lit, though the curtains are drawn shut. There’s no need to knock, you’re the only person who will walk in.
“Sit with me, pet.” Dio says.
Maybe the nickname has grown on you. It no longer draws out the same reaction of disgust and discomfort. Time has softened your hard outer shell. He opens his arms and instinctively you go into them. His chest feels unnaturally cold, but being so close to him makes you feel safe. The smell of his cologne is familiar and comforting, you find yourself leaning in closer. You allow yourself this one moment of weakness. He rests his chin on top of your head.
“I don’t have long,” you say, “I must get back.”
He pulls you closer. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
“Jonathan came and talked with me earlier.” You say.
You could almost swear you heard his heart skip a beat. His grip around you loosens, allowing you to shift to face him. His expression is unreadable.
“Yes.” He says. “I figured he would.”
“Why?”
You almost ask what he’s done.
Accusing him of something would only make him shut down. You already have a guess. The entire conversation leaves a bad taste in your mouth. It’s a constant unease and discomfort, more than it is outright pain. He's scheming- as he does- but more importantly, he hasn't told you about it.
“My brother doesn't believe in my ways.” He says. "I would never do anything to hurt father. It's no fault of mine that he won't recover."
"Then tell me what was in the bottle." You say. "As of right now, Jonathan is on his way to get that 'medicine' tested."
"I never gave any of it to him."
Jonathan won't see it that way. The authorities surely won't be as kind as his brother. And if he gets caught- what then?
"So you give it to someone else- so some unassuming person is killing him."
Dio doesn’t respond. Do you really expect more of him? He’s proven to be capable of many things. You’ve long since learned he wants to be the sole heir to the Joestar estate. It was a given. Power is something he craves. As much as he jokes about world domination, there's always a serious tone behind them. In the beginning, it just seemed like his nature; he was always collected and intense. Some truth must have been behind them. He makes no attempt to hide that. But this...
Murder is a bit too cold-blooded for your tastes. Morally you don’t have the high ground. You don’t find yourself above much, but you'd like to think you're above murder. If its what you need to do to survive, you believe you'd give it a pass, but as the time comes you're less sure of it. Mr. Joestar gave Dio an opportunity that doesn’t even come once in a lifetime for many. It feels like a slap in the face, just adding insult to injury. This feels like betrayal in the purest sense of the word. While you aren’t close to his father, you have a bit of respect for the man. His death would not cause you the same grief as your own father’s, but you would be sad.
But he is old, and not all old people recover from illness.
Most of the estate would go to Jonathan upon his father’s death. Really, this seems short-sighted. As the younger son, Dio isn’t entitled to all that much. But getting rid of his brother might be easier said than done. Part of you is angry for how little he’s thought this through. Truly, you expected more from him. With as much as he schemes, you had expected a better plan.
Your reaction isn’t quite what he expected. Anything but blind love and acceptance is seen as betrayal to him. To you, everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong.
If he fails- if- there is no recovering from this. If he is caught, many signs point to you as an accomplice.
Silently he exits, leaving you alone in his dark room.
101 notes · View notes
hes-writer · 4 years ago
Text
Trial (4)
Summary: harry and y/n face the truth
Warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff
Word Count: 4249 words
A/N: thank you so much for supporting this series !! @devilinbetweenthesheet-s. I will do the taglist later in the day :)
EDIT: idk why the ‘read more’ is not working. I apologize for the scrolling!!
Part 4 of the Tarnish series!
___
Harry was crying.
Admitting his feelings when he was younger was quite a task for him. Now that he was nearly in his thirties, the journey of being vulnerable with himself and with his feelings became easier with each emotion that he permitted himself to submerge in. Harry validated those emotions--he was allowed to experience them because it makes him human. It added texture to the ever-growing mosaic that painted who he was as an individual. Adding to the people that surrounded him, influenced by their kind-nature and the goodness of their heart to become who he was now.
And now, it seemed like his emotions increased tenfold. The clench of his abdomen and the harsh jolt of his chest forced his slouched shoulder to stay deflated. His breathing hitched as sobs threatened to take over, throat sore with the effort to keep it all in because Harry was smart enough to know that these emotions coursing through him right now were ones he wasn’t validated to feel. Paired with the latest information that that little girl being held by another man was his own daughter--and that the woman who was glowing with her caring, motherly-instincts was supposed to be his family; it broke him completely. 
Quaking thoughts circled his brain and punctured his muscles as if they were attacking him not only mentally, but physically as well in exchange for his past mistakes that he couldn’t quite place if he deeply regretted or not. Was it a mistake to cheat on Y/N? To leave her alone in the exposure of the public eye while she was carrying his child in her tummy? 
Harry should have known the day she fell sick and vomited in their kitchen sink. He was, sadly, too busy throwing a subdued celebration of finally having time alone with Camille. He should have noticed the way her face brightened with radiance. Or the way her cravings for strawberries and pickles either grossed her out or completely compelled her to consume more than she usually would. 
But Harry guessed that that was around the time his efforts went out the window because he didn’t have to pretend to care as much anymore. Camille appeared to be his one and only. With their relationship coming so close to being revealed and Y/N having one foot out the door, Harry let fate play out the rest. Don’t get him wrong, Harry still loved Camille; that was why his slashed heart still throbbed at the sight of her watching over her little cousin, yet knowing that the topic of children was still not a card on the table. 
The distress that he was feeling right now was core-shredding, heartbreaking grief that left a hole in his heart. The worst part was that Harry didn’t exactly know how to fix it or whether he even could. As he walked to his car with hands jammed into his pockets, he was grateful that the hood of his sweater hid his face and the tears sliding down the slope of his cheeks.
His senses were in overdrive, figuring out how to fix the mess he created. Wanting to run up to Y/N and ask her why she didn’t tell him, needing to feel his little girl in his arms. Pinching his skin to transfer the pain he felt in his heart because of the thought that he missed his baby’s first words, her first steps. Was it ‘dada’ that babbled out of her mouth? Did she reach out for Connor when she stumbled over nothing when she walked on stubby legs? Did Y/N mention his name to her?
“Harry!” 
He kept on walking despite the hushed call of his name, assuming that it was a fan that caught sight of him and wanted a picture. Harry adores them, but now is hardly the time to fake a smile or act like his life didn’t just flash right before his eyes--quite literally. 
The vehicle beeped as Harry pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his key fob, just about ready to pull the door open and shield himself from prying eyes. He flinched when a hand fell on his shoulder, “Harry,” 
He looked up to find Gemma panting, resting her hand on the roof of the car, “Are you. . .alright?” Her drifting eyes inspected his face, tinted a slight pink and moist with the salty liquid dripping from his tear ducts.
Huffing in annoyance, Harry clutched the handle to let himself in. Gemma followed his actions, shutting the door and locking it. The tinted windows of the car provided a semi-private enclosure that was filled with Harry’s sniffling and Gemma’s heavy breathing, trying to catch her breath. 
“H-her name is Halo,” Gemma began, gulping when Harry paused his ministrations, straining his ears to listen despite the dull thud occupying his vessels. “She’s almost two years old,”
“You said you didn’t know,” Harry’s gruff tone echoed. Gemma anxiously rubbed the ends of her palms against her jeans. “Why didn’t you tell me? You knew all this time and y’didn’t tell me,”
“I-I was--she didn’t want me--” 
“Why would she tell you and not me? I’m the one that dated her,” He raised his voice with every syllable he spoke. The frustration he felt from seeing the woman he once loved living the reality they shared together, except he wasn’t anywhere in the picture and that reality was only a fantasy in his life now. “It doesn’t make sense,” He rested his forearms on the wheel, facing the car’s symbol.
“The baby is yours, Harry,”
His head quipped with speed, grazing his forehead on the rounded leather but that pain didn’t amount to the new wave washing over him. “W-what?”
“It’s really not my place to tell,” Gemma said nervously, making eye contact with Harry’s searing yet teary gaze. “She wanted to tell you but you were so happy with Camille. She was posting these things on her Instagram about your trips and Y/N called me crying because you looked so free and happy without her. Y/N didn’t want to ruin what you guys had by dropping this on you,”
"That's-that's my baby?" Harry stuttered over his words while tugging his head out of his memories. Gemma nodded in confirmation. “Then why in the world was she--Halo?--calling him ‘dada’? 
“Look, Harry, you’re not stupid. You know why Halo called Connor her dad,” Gemma spoke slowly, “This is a conversation that you need to have with Y/N if she lets you,”
At the mention of the man’s name, Harry couldn’t help but be filled with anger. He barely knew this man yet he received everything that Harry wanted in life. ‘But she’s my kid. I’m her dad. I’m the one who’s supposed to give her kisses and make her laugh,” He mumbled quietly as if his inner thoughts were far too strong to be kept in his mind
He was staring mindlessly at the numbers on his dashboard, hands gripping the leather steering wheel to try and ground himself. "But if that's my baby, how can she call someone who's not her father, dad?" He whipped his head towards Gemma, searching for validation that would make him feel better but the siblings were aware that he lost that title three years ago. 
“I think you know you lost that place in their lives,” She reached a comforting hand to pat his arm, feeling just how tense he was under the fabric.
Harry shrugged her off, pinching his brows and pursing his lips as sadness began to swirl down the drain only to be replaced with resentment, irritation and bitterness. The taste on his tongue was hot with anger and his ears felt warm as he wheezed air instead of opting to yell his dissatisfaction near his sister. 
“This isn't fair. She's m’baby too. Connor is not her father,” He spat with venom, “I am,” A pointed finger poked his chest. "She knew she was pregnant when she left me. She’s so fuckin’ selfish. How could she do this to me? 
Gemma was quick to remind him of his actions, "You cheated on her, Harry.” Gemma cowered back at Harry’s beady eyes glaring at her with an unreadable emotion, stone-cold. “Maybe you should go home. Calm down a little bit,”
“No!” Harry cut Gemma off, “Need t’a hear her say it myself,” 
Harry didn’t know what his plan was when he harshly slammed the car door behind him, practically storming on the patches of grass like a mad man. It wasn’t hard to spot the picture-perfect family sitting on a park bench which brought a scowl to his shielded face. He wanted to give Y/N a piece of his mind and it wasn’t necessarily the nicest thoughts that crossed his brain. 
Halo was sitting on Connor’s lap while he was feeding her a peeled cupcake. Red velvet with cream cheese frosting—-Harry felt like he was punched in the gut. The baked good was Y/N’s specialty and it had a lot of sentimental value to both of them. It was what she baked for their first year together. He could vividly see her frosting-dotted nose, aiming to splotch the cream on his cheek while she laughed. Harry wrapped his arms around her, hugging Y/N from behind and proceeding to kiss her sweet cheek, leaving the perfect opportunity to stain his skin with the frosting. 
But he didn’t care if he was smashed headfirst into the cake (as long as it wasn’t ice cream cake)—Harry just wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh heartily. 
Y/N was snuggled on Connor’s shoulder, fixing Halo’s hair as she made grabby hands at the confection. He cannot lie--Connor was a handsome man. Harry rarely felt intimidated or insecure, but seeing that this man managed to snatch everything Harry could ever want seemingly in a blink of an eye; Harry felt very jealous. 
He pouted, eyes rimmed red and lips quivering wishing that Cory or Connor--whatever that little shit’s name was would disappear so that Harry could take his place instead. Actually, it was his spot in the first place. Only if he didn’t mess up, he thought. He missed Y/N so much! Seeing Y/N in her element of niceness and bright-gleaming smiles sent a truck full of sand down his throat as he gulped his emotion below the surface. The closer he got to them, his vision tunnelled towards Halo; brown, flouncy curls and a cute dimple embedded in her cheek as she giggled, accidentally knocking the cupcake on the ground.  
If that wasn’t symbolism staring at Harry straight in the face; a sign that their so-called relationship really had no chance of reprieve. Harry chose to ignore it.
Connor clutched Halo tightly against him, crouching down with a napkin to clean up the scattered cake on the ground. Y/N was the first to notice him, her forehead creasing as her eyes bulged at the sight of Harry walking towards them. She subtly poked at Connor’s arm, hurting Harry even more because it meant that Y/N felt uncomfortable with his presence. 
He was close enough to read her pink lips, “We should go,” matched with Y/N’s frantic actions of packing the juice boxes and the Tupperware of cupcakes into the tote bag beside her. Connor searched the park until his gaze landed on Harry, protectively shielding Halo from him. 
Is he serious? Harry thought. That’s my own daughter.
Speaking of Halo, the two-year-old happily continued munching on her new cupcake, frowning slightly when Connor stood up, “Why we leaving, Daddy? Did I do somethin’ bad?”
Y/N sighed, they promised that Halo could play at the park all day and now it was cut short because of a certain someone. 
“No, you didn’t, bub. Let Daddy explain at home, okay baby?” Connor hitched Halo higher on his hip, hoping that she wouldn’t ask any more questions until the trio left.
“Who’s that?” Halo asked, pointing at Harry only metres away from them. Her stubby finger outstretched at the stranger in front of her, eyes bright and sparkling with curiosity. There was no sign of recognition painting her green orbs. 
Harry gulped, wanting so badly to scream “I’m your dad!” but he knew that Y/N will add that to the list of his mistakes he had made. 
“No one, angel,” Connor planted a kiss on her head, looking over at Y/N who had finished packing everything up. He tilted his chin in an attempt to scare Harry off.
But the thing was, Harry was already scared. He could feel his stomach in his throat but vomiting wasn’t the right word to describe it. His heart drooped deeper than the levels of the Earth. He was scared because his family was right in front of him but he couldn’t touch them or hug them in his arms. He was only allowed to look from the outside because there was a small possibility of being forgiven.
“Y/N. . .” Harry began hesitantly. The surge of confidence he had decreased with each passing second. He kept a close eye.
Y/N shrugged the strap on her shoulder, “Leave us alone, Harry.”
He felt his anger disappearing, a new emotion cascading his tear ducts and the blood in his veins. Harry looked back in retrospect; she really did mean it when Y/N said that she never wanted him around again. “I just want to talk. Please, let’s talk,”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Harry,”  Connor interrupted, grabbing the bag from Y/N and wrapping an arm over her shoulder, guiding them away from Harry. “She’s happy without you, mate. can’t you see?”
Harry kept his gaze trained on Y/N’s face, actively avoiding eye contact but drifted when Halo’s frown caught his stare. The little girl’s chin was hooked over Connor’s shoulder, squirming in his arms in an attempt to stop him from walking. Halo was smart enough to know that Harry’s expression screamed sadness and her mummy said that “you need to find a way to make them happy” if someone was sad.
“Wait!” Her shrill yell caused both Connor and Y/N to turn around. A piece of Harry’s heart shattered on the floor when Halo pulled Connor down by the nape of his neck, small hand leading his ear next to her lips. Then, she did the same to Y/N, pointing at Harry which caused him to straighten his stance, wanting to impress his daughter even though there was no point.
The couple shared a look before ultimately having Connor walk closer to Harry. Halo gripped her cupcake towards him, “‘ere y’go hawwy,’ She still couldn’t pronounce her ‘r’s’ yet. 
Harry began to sob. 
It was his daughter and those were the first words she had uttered to him. She didn’t know him yet Halo treated him with kindness and it ripped at his chest because Y/N must’ve taught her that. His palms became wet as tears streamed from his eyes, dampening the sleeves of his hoodie. He didn't care about looking foolish in front of them, not when his daughter saw him as a stranger and called Connor her ‘dada’. 
Halo recoiled at the sudden reaction, her lips curving downwards, “Dada, mama, he’s cwyin’,” She tucked her face at the junction of Connor’s shoulder and neck, scared that she made him cry. Halo didn’t mean to make him cry. She felt so guilty that she started spilling tears of her own too, her face contorting into a scrunched expression as her mouth wailed open sobs, matching Harry’s. 
Harry’s first instinct was to take a step forward and comfort Halo but he was rendered frozen when Connor shot him a glare, shifting Halo’s body out of reach and he could only see her face over the man’s shoulder. Y/N dimmed her eyes, brows pinching when she couldn’t help but let a smidge of sympathy wash over her. She muttered a few words to Connor, pushing him by the small of his back towards the parking lot. 
When they were out of earshot, Y/N faced Harry, “What were you thinking? Are you trying to mess everything up again?” He tried to cut in, “Isn’t it bad enough that we’re talking about this in public? Why must you ruin everything, Harry?” She whisper-shouted, trying her best not to garner them any attention. 
“N-no, Gemma told me and I jus’ wanted to see her--and you. Wanted to hear the truth come out of your mouth,” His large hands jammed into his pockets to prevent him from fiddling with them. 
“Look, you have no right coming here,”
“I know that b-but I--,”
She held a palm up, “I’m not sadistic like you Harry. If you thought that I wouldn’t let you around her then you’re wrong. As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss you and I wish that you were there for us when we needed you,”
“I had no idea--,”
“Will you let me speak?” Her tone carried irritation. “But we’re alright now and we don’t need you anymore.”
Harry never thought that those statements would ever come out of Y/N’s mouth. “Don’t you think I deserve to get to know her?” 
She sighed, “Deserve? Definitely not.” He nodded in agreement. “But I’d live in regret if Halo never got to know her real father. . .”
Harry’s expression lit up, hopeful eyes shooting glances at her, “D-does that mea--? Are you--?”
“You can see her. You can get to know her but only because you’re Halo’s father,” Y/N took a brave step forward, ignoring the way her heart throbbed as if she was being stabbed by a thousand knives. Painful memories drifted in and out of her train of thought until she shook her head to muster them out. It was in the past but she could never forget the feeling of hopelessness taking over her whole body. 
With a hand on his shoulder, she continued, “Anyone can be a father and you’re just that. Don’t think that you’re entitled to anything more. You will never be her dad. Connor is. Understood?”
Harry took a deep breath and swallowed a heavy gulp, “I. . .understand. Thank you, Y/N. For letting me back in when I don’t deserve it,” He glanced at the two tiny figures piling in the car. He could just imagine himself plucking little Halo into her booster seat, booping her nose as she asked for the hundredth time why she had to sit at the back and not at the front with them. 
“I’m not finished,” She deadpanned, “You are going to be there for her. Not for me, not for us because our relationship is over. You can hurt me as you did before and I can accept it but don’t you dare try to hurt her,” 
And it was true. Having endured his painful game once before, Y/N was stronger now. She could take heartbreak as agonizing as that but she wouldn’t dare stand seeing Halo’s teary eyes staring back at her, asking why Harry had left them. She was far too young to experience the feeling when a piece of herself is ripped apart. 
“I won’t hurt her. I promise,”
“I heard those words come out from your mouth years ago and look where we are now. Once you hurt her, it’s over.”
“Y/N, t-that’s hardly fair. I am her dad, aren’t I?” Harry cleared his throat at Y/N’s raised brow.
“No, you’re not. We just went through this, Harry.”
“Don’t call me that,” He muttered quietly because she only ever called him ‘baby’ or ‘h’.
“Will you stop? I laid out my cards. If you want to even have a speck of presence in her life, then you have to abide by what I said,” She crossed her arms in defence, “You will never be Halo’s dad, Harry. Connor is her dad. I don’t know how many more times I have to repeat this before it gets through you thick head,”
He opened his mouth to talk, “No wiggle room whatsoever?”
“No. Do I have to write a letter for you to understand that?”
In a moment of hurt and despair, Harry spat out, “Might as well, yeah? Waited over two years to tell me anyway,”
“Are you kidding me?”
His throat ran dry, realizing that he just ticked another box to favour against being a part of his daughter’s life, “I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean to,”
“Whatever. Are you willing to make the sacrifice?”
“This isn’t the place to talk about this,” Harry suggested, wanting to have some sort of foot on the ground so he doesn’t feel like he’s topping over with guilt and sadness. “Maybe you can come over to my house,”
Y/N shook her head, glancing briefly at her phone when it buzzed, “No. I will not step foot in that house again. If you really want to discuss it, you can come over at our place,”
“Your place?” Did they all live together? Well, that was another slap to the face. Not only was Connor playing dad to Halo, but he was also part of the household. Harry’s face must have contorted into a grimace because Y/N sighed softly. 
“Yes, our place. Meaning all three of us,” She gestured behind her. “I have to go. You can probably get my number from Gemma; you can text me then.”
“Yes, yes! Of course, I want to talk to you. . . about this, I mean,” Harry lowered his enthusiasm. The small voice in his head reverberating that this was not about him and Y/N; this was about Halo. 
“And make sure you don’t bring anyone else,” Y/N said sarcastically, subtly pointing in the direction of the paparazzi hiding behind some bushes. Harry was usually good at spotting them but today was just a puddle of hurt and confusion. “I don’t want her having to read nasty things like I did,”
What Y/N said may have been a side comment, but Harry couldn’t help but take it to heart. Was this a good idea? Sure, he wanted to be a present dad in Halo’s life. However, is it worth it to stir unwanted drama? If only he didn’t cheat on Y/N, all of this could have been avoided. 
With his mind in a haze, Harry barely noticed Y/N’s figure moving away from him. He jogged to catch up with her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry felt numb to the way she shrugged her touch off of her immediately, “Were you ever going to tell me about our daughter?’
Y/N stared at him quizzically, tilting her head a little bit sideways, “I thought I did? Wait!” A look of recognition plastered across her features, “I did try to tell you but you blocked me before the message sent through,”
Harry gulped with realization. He blearily remembered  bitterly blocking her number just as she texted “I need to tell you something,”
___
Y/N: Since you’re not picking up my calls
I need to tell you something
Y/N took a deep breath as her thumbs tapped on the letters slowly as if to withhold the news from him. She was not at all ready to reveal that she was pregnant and that he was the father but Y/N knew that it was the right thing to do. Despite the fact that he was currently out of the country on vacation somewhere on an island with sandy beaches with Camille. Y/N was aware that this spike of courage was rare and so, she had to do it now.
Y/N: I’m pregnant
And you’re the father
She locked the device as soon as she pressed the arrow to send the message, clutching the phone close to her chest and shutting her eyes so tightly that it hurt. Minutes passed with no response and Y/N was shouldered by curiosity to check if he had sent anything back or simply left her on ‘seen’. 
It was neither. The screaming red exclamation mark surrounded by a circle indicated that she had been blocked. 
___
The times when she left missed calls on his phone were for a reason much bigger than the two of them. Y/N didn’t call to beg for him back or to ask Harry to want her again. He was ashamed to admit that he had rolled his eyes upwards every time he clicked on a voicemail she had left, stating, “Hey H, it’s me. Call me back when you hear this. I need to talk to you,” which he deleted without a second thought. She didn’t text him endlessly to politely ask for her things packed and settled for her pick-up because Y/N could not bear to spend another second in a room with him.
It wasn’t that at all. 
Y/N was physically moving farther and farther away from him, settling herself into the car before driving off to hers and Connor’s shared house. Halo sat in the backseat, singing along to the radio.
Harry was surrounded amidst the joyful squeals of children and reprimanding voices of their parents.
He stood alone with no one but loneliness by his side and the brisk flash of cameras in his peripherals.
_____
Let me know what you thought!
———
Permanent Taglist: @splendidsunsetx @swagmoneymaya @textingharry @arypesanchez @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @mellamolayla @luviewoo
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sorryimanon · 4 years ago
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Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!Reader, Izuku Midoriya x NB!Reader
Warnings: some angst, FLUFF, and our boys being the best boys.
In which they comfort you after a rough day or week
A/N: im sorry if Izukus section is shorter than Bakugou’s. trying to practice writing other characters. enjoy!
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Saturday's are reserved strictly by the majority of the girls from class 1-A, leaving the guys to hibernate inside their dorms as they allow the commencement of girls night. You've never rain checked nor rejected the idea of spending  quality time with your friends, considering all the tribe's and trepidation's everyone has endured together during their time at the academy. It's nice to just strip away the stress and dip your toes in pure relaxation.
Unfortunately, you woke up with a bad case of cloudy thoughts. For the past week you've been carrying the weight of dread, causing your mood to drastically change throughout the day. You'd be having a civil conversation with someone one minute and then the next minute you're completely irritated by their presence. You've tried to balance it out and fix it overnight with the regimes you researched on the internet. A new sleeping schedule, healthier diet, yoga, and even went to the extreme of writing in a journal. It was all so cut throat and prestigious, nothing close to your liking. Katsuki made fun of you for it one day when he snuck into your room and read the many inscriptions in your journal entries.
"This stuff reminds of Deku. Always shoving his nose in that stupid notebook of his," he didn't care much to hear your refutes about Izuku. "Anyways, what's with all this depressing shit you are writing? You don't really feel this way do you?"
You didn't give him a definite answer that day. Only a curt "no" and he resumed rambling about his day like nothing happened, having you listening with his voice like white noise going in one ear and out the other.
And that's how it went on throughout the duration of the prior week before Saturday.
Inside the confinement of your dorm, you made the rational decision to sleep in instead of attending classes. The chilling thoughts kept you up all night, never once allowing sleep to take full throttle. You tossed and turned around on your bed, unable to shut off your brain. So when you woke up in the peak of late afternoon, you weren't surprised to see the unread messages on your phone. All of them were from your explosive boyfriend.
King Explosion🤍: Oi you running late? Mr.Sleepy head is taking roll call
King Explosion🤍: y/n where tf r u?
King Explosion🤍: fine don't answer me ig
King Explosion🤍: are you at least coming down for lunch? i made curry last night and imma make you finish it
King Explosion🤍: fking hurry before dunce face eats it
King Explosion🤍: nvm he ate it 😐
Katsuki never intended for the message to be funny. He's probably blowing actual steams of smoke through his nostrils and ears while chasing kamanari amongst the halls. The comical imagery made you laugh harder. At least he made you crack a smile. You haven't shown any emotions let alone a hint of enthusiasm for tonight.
Maybe it'd be best to sit this one out.
"Hey, we're missing a person! Where's my y/n?" Mina asked after scanning the group of girls huddled around on the carpeted floor.
Momo shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned pillow she stole from the couch. "Y/N said she wasn't feeling too well to join us for tonight. Something about food poisoning and throwing up every hour."
In unison all the girls gasped, along with a concerned 'ribbit' from Tsuyu.
"Well I hope she gets to feeling better. I wouldn't want her to endure such sickness for much longer," Tsuyu croaked out.
Everyone in the circle agreed and promised to pay a visit later in the night to check on you.
On the fourth floor, Katsuki stared blankly at his phone, hands shaking due to the repressed anger he's been holding. Each of the messages he sent previously were all left on read, including the one he sent an hour ago asking if he could have a cuddle session with you before girls night. Yes, even an ill tempered guy such as him enjoys sappy shit like cuddling. After pacing back and forth in his room for a solid 5 minutes, he was now dead set on confronting you in front of your friends.
Katsuki made a beeline for the elevator and aggressively pressed the 1st floor button repeatedly in hopes it'll make the process go quicker. He reached the commons area in precision time, overhearing the girls giggle after someone suggested playing truth or dare. He towered over Uraraka's figure, casting a demonic shadow version of himself in the circle. Hagakure shrieked and clung onto Jirou.
"Where's y/n you extras?" He demanded, voice deafening the brunette under him.
"She didn't come tonight. She's in her dorm room sick," Jirou explained to him as she tried pry the invisible girl off her arm.
"Like hell she's sick!" Katsuki spun around quickly and retreated back to the elevator, mumbling obscenities under his breath. "She's going to pay for being so careless and irresponsible."
The commons room fell silent once the explosive blonde disappeared behind the doors of the elevator, all eyes searching each other in complete shock. Uraraka was the first to speak out of the small group.
“Should we warn y/n that Bakugou is coming for her?”
Jirou averted her gaze to the direction bakugou left off from, a ghost of a smirk spreading on her face.
“Nah. Knowing y/n, she can handle the asshole on her own.”
King Explosion🤍: can i come over? i wanna cuddle, i miss u
The text message kept flashing behind your eyes every-time you closed them - a sad image of Katsuki waiting impatiently for you to reply back with a heart or one of those unusual memes he unapologetically adores. You knew he’d be furious, no doubt about it, but you rationalized your decision and concluded it would be best to avoid your boyfriend like the plague till this undesired feeling dissipates. Katsuki doesn’t do well with people being emotional, let alone handle his own emotions for god’s sake.
Your own thoughts were interrupted by someone raping the outside of your door. The continuous knocks made your head spin, a painful sting ghosting back and forth between your eyes. Remembering back to an hour ago, you messaged one of the girls that you weren’t going to make it to tonight’s session. Surely they respected your wishes and continued on with their hangout? But you forgot about the one person who’s persistent and stubborn like a cat.
“I know you’re in there y/n! You may have fooled your idiotic friends with a lie, but you keep on forgetting you’re terrible at lying!” Katsuki hollers against the wood of the door, not once being considerate of those living above her.
He’s right. You’re absolutely horrible at making up excuses for yourself. Dating someone as intuitive as him will be the death of you.
“If there’s something going can you at least let me in? You can’t ignore me forever y/n.”
Again, he’s right.
You slipped out from the comfort of your bed and padded towards the door, mentally preparing for the blonde to scold you once he enters your room. What you weren’t prepared for was the tears swelling up in the ducts of his vermillion eyes - his hands clenched tightly into fists as he looked down at you. Your breathing hitched when his arm outstretched to rest on the door frame to keep his trembling body steady.
“What the hell y/n? Why the fuck have you been ignoring me?! Did I do something wrong?!” He asked, not caring about his current appearance.
You grab ahold of his other arm and absentmindedly started rubbing it affectionately, trying to coax him into calming down. “Katsuki no! You didn’t do anything wrong! Why would you think that?”
“Because dumbass, you’ve been distant this past week,” he paused, choking on his words. “Are...are you breaking up with me?”
Your eyes shot up instantly at his horrifying assumption. “Katsuki, if I tell you the truth, will you promise not to make things worse for me?”
He tilted his head in confusion, but nodded once you led him into your messy bedroom. Once inside, your boyfriend plopped down on your bed, watching intently as you anxiously bit down on your nails - a nervous habit you picked up at the beginning of the school year.
“I’ve been feeling weird lately. Ever since the beginning of last week. I don’t know how to describe it but, my brain is constantly feeding into my already negative state. Telling me things I know aren’t true but I’ve convinced myself they are. Almost as if a grey cloud is hovering above me,” tears were already starting to pour down your cheeks. “I just...I just feel so miserable and lonely and useless and irritated and- I’m so sorry for ignoring you. You probably want nothing to do with me after this!”
You manage to turn away from the sight of the blonde during your speech, ashamed of pouring out your emotions onto a person who disregards other peoples emotions and constitutes them as a quote on quote “pussy”.
From behind, you can hear faint shuffling nearing your already shaken up figure. A pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a wall that could only be described as his own chiseled chest, doing the same as you did moments ago with his arm - lulling you to calm down a notch before he stared speaking.
“If you been feeling this way, why lie when I asked you a few days ago after reading your journal?”
“I know how you are, Katsuki. You get very uncomfortable when people talk about their feelings. So, why should I be any different?”
Your boyfriend suddenly maneuvers you around in the circle of his arms, shifting to where you’re now making direct eye contact with him. His gaze intense and unwavering.
“Because you’re my girlfriend? I don’t give a rats ass about any of these extras. When it comes to you, I’d make an exception for. I made that promise to myself when we first started seeing each other. So don’t think for a second that I’ll disregard your true feelings, dumbass.” He stepped a couple of inches backwards, ankles eventually hitting the bottom of your bed - making him fall and dragging you along with him. You landed on top of him, head still buried in the depths of his hard chest. The vibrations of his chuckle shook your whole body. Katsuki gently titled your head to be leveled with his, a red tint of blush painting his pallid cheeks.
“I’m being serious though. Don’t be afraid to come to me when things get tough, okay? I love you too much to see you like this.”
Next thing you knew your boyfriend stole your breath away by meshing his plump lips onto yours, hands snaking their way into your hair and carefully massaging it. By all means, you let him have his way with you by kissing the sadness away, tears puddling together cheek on cheek.
He let go eventually, pecking a quick chaste kiss on the side of your mouth before hauling you further into the bed. You settled on letting him spoon you, knowing how much he likes the feeling of your backside pressed against him, and the fruity aroma of your hair infiltrating his senses.
“I promise Katsuki,” you said after some time during the cuddle session.
He shifted in his spot, head placed firmly in the crook of your neck. “Promise what?”
“That I’ll come to you when these thoughts return again. I should trust you by now, and I need to not let these emotions ruin everything in my life. I love you that much.
Your confession swelled the very last evidence of Katsuki being a human being, his heart.
He smiled weakly to himself and nuzzled more into your shoulder, brushing his warm lips against the tender skin. “You better, dumbass.”
-
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Today was just so exhausting, and the big fat 'D-‘ written in red ink on your final report was the icing on the cake. To make things even worse, Aizawa reminded the whole class before the exam that this was to determine wether or not if you'll be joining the training camp that'll commence the following winter break.
Hopefully this was one of your teacher's terrible deception tactics into making everyone do their absolute best, go plus ultra even. But to your dismay, he was indeed very serious of the matter this time.
It wasn't your fault, not entirely. You stayed up all night listening to another one of your boyfriends rambles, the conversation lasting till 2 am. Izuku grew worrisome and anxious ever since his encounter with a gruesome villain, thus resulting in him to pour his emotions out onto you. Poor baby kept mentioning the safety of All Might and you.
Solemnly, you left class and trailed back to your dorm room, wanting to ignore the jovial atmosphere inside the cramped room as everyone traded and talked about their scores.
Izuku noticed you leaving abruptly and got up from his desk to follow you behind, bidding a quick goodbye to his friends.
Your room was dark and dramatically colder than usual, a trickle of light threatening to pour in from the cascading sunset. You laid down on your stomach with one of your pillows propped on your head, in hopes to shield away anyone from seeing your ugly-crying face.
Too late because Izuku was already standing outside your dorm room, swaying back and forth on his feet while biting down harshly on his lip. He can hear your soft cries seeping through the door. He doesn't know why he's hesitating, he's your boyfriend after all.
Moments later you hear the acute sounds of someone knocking on your door, followed by the soft spoken voice of your green haired boyfriend.
"Baby? Can I come in? I-If that's okay with you I m-mean! It's alright if you need some space but you left class so early I figured something happened to you and I got really worried because you always wait for Iida and uraraka to walk us back to the dorms as a group and maybe it had something to do with what I was telling you last night-."
You crack the door just a smidge before fully opening it, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained shirt to him. His breathing hitched once his eyes fixated on your disheveled state. 
"Can you comfort me? I need you right now Izuku," your voice cracked a little, throat still tight after the crying session.
His strong, lean arms wrapped around your body momentarily, encasing you into a bear hug. Hugs from Izuku were amazing, no exceptions. He placed a quick peck on the crown of your forehead.
"C'mon, let's get inside and snuggle. How does that sound?" he asked as he unwrapped himself and took your trembling hand, leading you back inside the dimly lit room.
Izuku laid you gently down on your side once reaching the bed, crawling alongside with you before  draping the covers over the both of you. His familiar hands snake around your waist and nudges you to roll over. You obliged and shifted your body to face his, sparkly green eyes staring straight at you.
"Tell me, what's wrong baby? Does it have to do with the recent exam?" his thumb started tracing delicate lines on your hips, your uniform long gone and now replaced with comfortable clothes instead.
"I failed Izuku...I did so terrible on the written exam. I kept falling in and out of sleep during the test that I didn't have time to finish the middle portion of it," you exhaled a shaky breath. "Who knows what'll happen on the practical. I'll probably fail that too...I'm such a failure compared to everyone."
Izuku grabbed the tender flesh of your cheeks and directed your vision to level with his. He looked angry and concerned.
"Don't say that y/n! You're not a failure! That exam doesn't determine wether or not if you're good enough to be a hero. I've seen you in action hun, and I know for a fact that you're possibly the most strongest person I've met in my lifetime! You're ambitious, smart, determined, and so freaking beautiful." He then kissed you tenderly on the lips, his eyes closing slightly due to the contact.
"So...freaking...beautiful." He whispers against your mouth.
His sentimental words were enough for you to push back the negativity and simply enjoy the intimate moment.
Izuku lifted his head away from your face to rest it against your temple. "You're going to do great things, okay? One failing grade isn't going to be the end of the world. Trust me sweetheart, I've had my fair share in failures during our time here in Yuuei. But look at me now, still standing."
You nuzzled more into his chest, tickling his chin with your hair. Faintly, you can hear the pitter patter of his heart beat bursting through his rib cage.
"Would you love me even if I was a horrendous looking-failure?" you were clearly teasing him, but sometimes Izuku became dense when it came to that.
"Y/n! W-Why would you ask that! Of course I would you dummy! I'd love you no matter what."
This time you return the favor and kiss him, knowing how to easily fluster him in seconds. He whimpers into your mouth at the sudden contact and cups your jawline affectionately.
The two of you stayed like that till the moon shone through the balcony curtains, illuminating your skin in a dusty glow.
Lips bruised and swollen red, you laid lifelessly in his arms, letting him wove his scarred fingers through your hair. Izuku would occasionally stop to peck your lips, then resumes his attention back to your hair.
"I'm sorry by the way. I shouldn't have kept you up last night before the exam. I'm such a horrible boyfriend..." he admitted suddenly.
"Yes. Yes you are."
He gasped and stopped his movements altogether, obviously taken aback by your blunt words.
You giggled and said, "Kidding. You're the best boyfriend. Apology accepted.”
After hearing that, Izuku shoved himself onto your chest and let out muffled cry. "D-Don't scare me like that. Almost made me have a heart a-attack!"
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iscream4clones · 4 years ago
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HELLO COULD U DO SOEMTHING FOR UHHHHHHHHH SAD READER WITH REX I LOVE YOY
**so this fic literally disappeared for a week and then randomly appeared in my drafts??? Merry Christmas miracle I guess???**
So I haven’t written anything in over a month so this is going to be really rusty and probably really short I’m so sorry. But I love you too <3
This got super deep so I’m actually putting a warning on this
CONTENT TRIGGER WARNING: Deep/confusing/poetic descriptions of depression and anxiety. I kinda dug into my own brain for these descriptions, so I apologize if they don’t make sense.
--
You both would never get used to it, but it has always been expected. With each passing month the war raged on with no end in sight. More shinies arrived, and less of the experienced returned home. No matter the length of Rex’s missions, they were always grueling and draining for both of you - Rex because of what he experienced on the field, and for you, it was the anxiety of wondering if this was the mission he never returned from.
Rex and yourself did your absolute best to stay in contact while he was away, but due to the nature of war, it was often difficult. You never blamed him or felt mistreated when there were unread messages and missed coms, but it always felt like a stab in the gut. Was he busy or dead? Much of your relationship during these times was a waiting game.
This time, however, Rex had been very quick and frequent with his replies and calls back to you. Your conversations were lighthearted and it was a good distraction for both of you while chaos ruled the galaxy in the distance between each of you. I can promise I will be home this time, and soon, Rex stated before he wished you goodnight. He would message you first thing in a morning, though it was an unspoken promise that he always would.
--
Rex was aware, when you had some time off from your own work, you stole the opportunity to sleep in late. But many hours had passed since his morning greeting, and you hadn’t even read it. Again and again he peeked at his com, hoping you simply had a late start to the day or got busy. Before he knew it, evening arrived for him and there was still nothing from you. He shut himself away in his tent, meditating in silence over a screen that would not glow with your name for many more days.
--
He had been correct about having a slow morning, though you didn’t experience much of it. Not even bothering to check the time or your com, you remained in bed for what seemed like an eternity. There was a stillness about your apartment that brought with it an ringing that haunted your conscious. The walls and the ceilings were all that seemed to keep your body from severing its ties with your mind. Bu the numbness in your limbs and chest made you believe otherwise.
Your process of waking played out like stop motion animation. Every breath, every flex of your muscles, felt like it cost another cell of your sanity. Even your muscle memory was shot; as you stood below the steady stream of water from your shower head, you had no idea how or when you got there, or if you had even grabbed the soap. When you stepped out, you did not dare look at yourself in the mirror.... you weren’t even sure of there would be anyone there to look back.
You knew what this was by the only thing that reminded you -the only evidence of your being alive - the ache in your chest. It ruled over you, directed you, silenced your thoughts and your needs, became the lord of your kingdom of pain so cold it burned. The throne of which your heart rested was now nothing more than a pile of splinters, piercing it’s walls with every beat.
You hated this place, what it did to you, but when one left the windows open at night, trouble would eventually make its way in. Behind the back of trouble, you did your best to search for the window, to grasp its locks and pull it tightly shut. If only you could wipe these blinding dreams from your eyes, you could find it better.
--
Rex knew what this was by the sheer ringing silence that echoed from his empty messages. He knew you could hear it too, but that it would be much louder, more persistent, on your end. It wasn’t his absence that caused this in you, he was well aware, but it roused a panic in him when it happened while he was thousands and thousands of miles away.
Just a moment, Commander.
He led himself away from the group and opened up his comm to send a voice message.
He hoped a moment would be enough.
--
The blip, the ringing, went right over your head. They weren’t important, they could mean anything.
But his voice? It was enough to wake the part of you that had the power to break the spell. You listened.
“Y/n, I hope you can hear me. It’s Rex... I- uh, I only have a few minutes, so pay attention.
Cyar’ika, I’m guessing you’re having another episode. It’s been a few days since I heard from you, and I recognize the pattern. I’m not sending this because I’m angry, I’m sending this because I just want you to know that I love you.
We are about to board ship, and I’ll be halfway home before a day passes. I repeat- I will be home soon.
Don’t worry about sending me any messages, or about cleaning the apartment, or making dinner. I know it’s hard right now and I don’t expect anything from you. I’ll take care of everything when I get back.
My only request is that you stay alive, and I will see you when I get home. We can work it out from there.
Again... I love you. Even when you’re hurting. Please take care, cyar’ika.”
You sat down. You were at the kitchen table.
Stay alive? You could manage that.
Taglist: @the-mandalorian-clone-lover  @bad-batch-of-fics @simping-for-fives @nelba @captainrexstan @ahsokatano-thetogruta @sunburstcody @leias-left-hair-bun @fractiouskat @majorshiraharu @arc-troops @artemis61003 @mackstrut @captainrexwouldnever @captainrexisboo @your-clone-boyfriend
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flyingcookierambles · 3 years ago
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sadness over a3! eng i guess
oof just on my 700th day.....
kinda sad because of the announcement about A3! ENG server shutting down soon due to financial difficulties at LIBER/CYBIRD in the past two years (covid-19 related, etc.). according to a rather in depth reddit comment that had links to LIBER's publicly available financial reports + some financial reports from LIBER's parent company, Aeria, in english, covid-19 really hit LIBER hard since they had to cancel many money making events, from pop-up shops for the typical anime merch trinkets (keychains, plushes, pins, etc.) to the huge in-person events (voice actor meetups, the stage plays of MANKAI LIVE, etc.). due to shrinking player base on the ENG server + major loss of profits on both JPN and ENG servers, LIBER had to choose one or the other and they chose the JPN one, which i totally understand since it's way bigger there and the JPN fanbase will continue to give the franchise money more often. also, another person found a financial report/estimate from the google play store or something, and A3! ENG only made ~$20K to ~$10K in the past few months, which i guess is not enough to keep a server and localization company afloat. 
i got pretty attached to the characters and it was a great game to help get by during college. and honestly, while i am very sad about this, again, i understand why LIBER did this, looking at their financial report from 2020. I would LIBER save the entire franchise rather than shut all the servers down, making us all unable to see our favorite actors ever again, even if it means that we ENG fans will have to go thru the extra steps of finding/reading fan translations, wikis, etc., to read any further stories from where A3! ENG left off. still, A3! ENG's localization was something special. i'm saying this as a TKRB JPN player who read the wiki for all the character voice lines and then had to see the official TKRB ENG localization make Yamabushi Kunihiro a rapper for some reason? lol. it was....weird.... meanwhile, all the memes and slang in A3! ENG didn't seem out of place and all fit their personalities because 3/4 of the troupes were all high school to college age and 3 of them were ~Gamers~. Out of all the gachas i've played, i feel like the only other F2P gacha game that had this incredibly smooth, all cultural jokes/puns translated in a way that still makes sense/fits the character/doesn't require a galaxy brain and some TL note to understand, is probably dragalia lost and that's only because it has frickin Nintendo localizing/publishing it globally for CyGames. Nintendo. i'll eventually read the fan translations of A3!'s Act 3 on the wiki, but it won't be the same without Kazunari's super high-energy influencer slang of "'whoa fam! that's totes 'blammable, gotta take a pic!" or Itaru's gremlin Gamer speak of "lol get rekt noobs" or Tsuzuru's tired dying breath of "that ain't it chief." the appropriate slang and relatable meme speak of the localization really helped humanize these characters as people of their respective ages, rather than just a typical formal speak or some directly translated JPN slang -> ENG that turns out super awkward that can be found in bad localizations.
going back to the reddit comment too, the death of A3! ENG servers could have bad repercussions in the future for other joseimuke games. josei, if you for some reason have been in the anime fandom but still don't know this term, is basically the genre of stories/video games/media/etc aimed at women. it's the mature adult counterpart to seinen, media aimed at adult men. basically shoujo/shonen = elementary/middle school/high school aimed while josei/seinen = high school/college/adult aimed if that helps. Joseimuke is a part of josei that is not specifically romance. while some josei/joseimuke can overlap with otome, aka female aimed dating sims/romance media, they have many things about them that make these all separate genres. one of the official A3! ENG translators and a known fan translator of another joseimuke gacha, Mahou Yaku/Wizard’s Promise, minami, goes more in depth with this in a twitter thread. 
A3! was an actor raising game, and a big part of it was found family and relationships that were platonic. yet it got advertised as an otome, which has more connotations with dating sims and brings to mind other shoujo/otome games and anime where the cast is all high schoolers and the setting is most often in a high school. but, other than some characters making flirty jokes or implied to have crushes on Izumi/player character, many character relationships with Izumi are platonic and not romantic at all. Spring Troupe in the game also jokingly calls themself a family. the entire Mankai Company is basically found family. plus, since the game actually has time passing in story and the characters age with each year, half of the characters aren’t even in high school anymore. a large majority of them are in college or are graduated by now, with only a few still in high school. i’m not surprised if a reason that some people left the game was due to feeling bored with the slice of life/not romantic story, feeling that they were lied to about it being an otome, which was falsely advertised since it is a game meant for the older teens/adults demographic of josei/joseimuke.
i’m worried that other japanese companies will look at this shut down as a “josei/joseimuke doesn’t work well in the west” and never localize other josei/joseimuke gacha games like Mahou Yaku, EnStars, Twisted Wonderland, Helios, etc.
while i like otome and shoujo, i, as a 23/soon to be 24 year old college graduate and now tax paying adult, want more stories that have more mature themes and characters that are more my age so i don’t have to feel awkward when i’m playing some dating sim and i, a literal 23 year old adult, and trying to woo a 16 year old. it’s...a little awkward to say the least. i would gladly welcome more mature media that is categorized as josei/joseimuke.
sorry if this is all over the place, but overall im just sad that A3! ENG is shutting down. i don’t know if i’ll join the JPN server yet. i’m def going to read the Act 3 story via fan translators on the wiki, but A3! gameplay was...boring lmao. as much as i love A3!, im sure that the constant event grind/burnout and boring rng gameplay turned people off too and i dont blame them. i felt the burnout bad since i participated in basically every event since day 1. it. is. rough. i’m not joining the hellish thunderdome that is the JPN server and im not ranking anymore as a F2P player lmao. literally had to play almost every waking free moment to get into the 30%-20% bracket as a F2P person and i never got to top 20%-10%, much less top 1% lmao. i’m don’t whale enough lol. 
i feel like i should probably just. crack open my genki 2 textbook and uhhh totally legal pdf copy of tobira. so i can just. get the JPN version of games in the first place so i don’t have to worry about getting shafted since overseas fans are often considered expendable. 
i wish that, when any games that are online end, gacha or mmo or anything, anything online, companies will let fans archive things. or like. release a book that is just the story text or something. like. CYBIRD is letting us still technically play the game and have the story and all, but what if they eventually later shut everything down? why not just release a pdf/ebook that’s just the text of the eng localization for some money? i’d buy it. for nostalgia and rereads and all and also archiving purposes. i think i’ll try to help with any english localization archive projects if i can so that the hilarious and incredible localization that was a work of love from the translation team doesn’t just disappear forever.
well.
that’s it for now. as i said, guess i’ll head to the app for one of the last times to read the last unread stories and mini stories i have left, then the wiki for Act 3, and then i guess i’ll crack open genki 2 and bunpo.....
some fun random links for you to think about!
random ffxi article that came to mind (if ffxiv ever shuts down in the next 20 years or whatever i’d be cool to get a statue of my character at the end)
and death of a game playlist by NerdSlayer Studios on Youtube that has me thinking a lot about game preservation and losing MMOs and games
the lost media wiki  and blameitonjorge’s lost media iceberg
other gacha games i’ve played that have shut down that i think about sometimes because the loss of A3! ENG isn’t my first rodeo:
terra battle & terra battle 2 (1)
AFTERL!FE
(related kitsu post link for archive reasons)
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high-functioning-lokipath · 4 years ago
Text
Star Trek - Spock x Reader - Love Story - Words: 1,129
BIG IMPORTANT A/N:
Love Story (1970) is a VERY VERY VERY sad (but very beautiful) movie. I WOULD suggest to watch it but remember...sad...
If you haven't seen it, here's the summary just so you can understand my story:
Preppy College Guy (Oliver) falls in love with Bookish College Girl (Jenny)
She falls in love with him because, WOW! He's not as much a jerk as she thought.
Their parents don't approve, yada yada, you get that part of the story. Mildly cliche, don't care.
They get married, get jobs, get apartment, want kids, and then everything goes downhill. (I'm not gonna spoil too much...you probably will get the idea)
Jenny has this expression "Love means never having to say you're sorry."
Really sweet, moral of the story type thing.
Let's just leave it at there is no happily ever after and also that the movie score (theme song?) is amazing, anyway... enjoy the story 😄😄 And as always, this should be generally series-neutral lol Should work with AOS or TOS 👍👍🤗🤗
You grabbed a bowl of popcorn out of the replicator and sat down on the sofa in yours and Spock's quarters. Spock wouldn't be off his shift for another 2 hours and you decided to watch a sappy old Earth movie called Love Story while he was out. Your shift had been long and stressful and you felt like a good emotional movie to relax. Just as it finished loading up on the screen, the doors opened and Spock walked in.
"You're home early!" You said getting up to greet him. You gave him a quick peck on the cheek which he returned with a soft stroke of his hand to yours.
"The Captain said I looked tired and needed rest. He gave me tomorrow off as well."
"Well that's perfect! Maybe we can finally have that picnic on Observation Deck 6 we've been planning for the past few months. Let me see if it's open tomorrow."
"Yes, that would be nice," Spock said quietly. You looked at him oddly but he didn't make eye contact. "I think I will take a shower before we eat dinner. Is that alright?"
"Of course, Spock!" You replied happily. "I didn't have anything homemade today. Sorry about that," You said. "I was thinking I could make our picnic lunch myself, though. The reservation book says Observation Deck 6 is open tomorrow."
"That would be most pleasant," He said. If you didn't know any better, you'd say his voice sounded sad. But he never let that happen, did he?
"If it's ok with you, love, I'd like to start watching my movie while you're in the shower. It's," you paused, slightly embarrassed. "It's kinda sappy so I don't think you'd like it but-"
"I would not mind viewing it with you, ashayam, if it makes you happy."
"It's a really emotional movie, Spock. I'll probably cry about the ending."
"So it is a sad movie?"
"Yes, I cried last time I watched it."
"And you want to watch it again."
"Yes." One perfectly pointed eyebrow rose up in confusion.
"Then perhaps I should watch it with you in an effort to understand human emotion and behavior better." You chuckled lightly and shook your head.
"Ok, silly, we'll watch it together. Now go take your shower and let me finish making our plans for tomorrow. I'll get our dinner started in the replicators and it'll be ready by the time you come out, hm?"
"Alright," He said. Again, though, as he went to the bedroom, he looked upset.
"Is something on your mind, Spock?"
"Nothing to worry you, Y/N," He replied. You smiled but weren't convinced that he was being entirely truthful. Once he was done showering, you both grabbed your dinner and sat on the sofa together to watch Love Story.
A couple hours later the movie finished and you, of course, were sniffling slightly. As the closing credits began appearing on screen you wiped your eyes and looked up at Spock who had an oddly unreadable expression. "Sorry, I just," You sighed. "I really like that movie but it's so sad. I wish I could rewrite the ending."
"You have said that about many movies," He noted. You nodded. "And have you not attempted to 'fix' them, as you say, with your stories?"
"Yes," You nodded, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "But this story is too beautiful. I could never write a better ending. Happier, yes. But it was so perfect. The musical score for the movie literally won an award the year it was released."
"But couldn't you rewrite the dialogue? Perhaps Oliver's father apologizes sooner and they're able to get treatment for Jenny?"
"Well, first of all, they didn't have treatments in those years, Mr. Spock," You smirked. You found it quite adorable that he was apparently trying his hand at fanfiction. Or at least coming up with headcanons. "Second, the point was that 'love means never having to say you're sorry.' Oliver's father wouldn't have understood that as well had the story not progressed as it did." That sad look passed over Spock's face again. "Spock, what's wrong? You keep getting this sad look. Guilty? Upset? Something! I don't know what it is but please tell me what's wrong," You said. He held his hands in his lap and refused to make eye contact.
"I," He started to say. "What does it mean?"
"What does what mean?" You asked, quite confused.
"Love means never having to say you're sorry."
"Oh, well," You thought about it for a minute. "I guess I would say that when two people really love and care about each other, they find that they don't have to say 'I'm sorry' about every little thing. Sometimes they may not realize they're doing something annoying or sometimes it's just that the other person, while superficially upset, isn't really mad and they can reach an understanding without words. I don't know if any of that made sense, Spock. For Pete's sake, I don't even know if most humans understand it. But it's something we do."
"Many times, when I do something that I've calculated as the most logical course of action, you are upset."
"Well, logical isn't always obvious to us emotional type humans," you smiled. "But I understand eventually. You usually sit down and explain it to me over a cup of tea or a bowl of plomeek soup."
"But I do not apologize for upsetting you."
"Oh, I think I know what's wrong," You said, looking down at your own hands now. "Last week, the mission on Omicron Lira? You put yourself in harm's way, again, and missed our anniversary dinner." He nodded slightly. "Spock, you did apologize. You always do."
"How?"
"I just told you," You smiled, curling back up against his side on the couch. "You explain to me why you did everything, why it was logical, so that I can understand. It's your special way of apologizing to me."
"I see," Spock said thoughtfully. "So you are not upset at me?" He asked, finally looking at you.
"Not at all," You grinned.
"I'm glad." He let a small smile show and grabbed his PADD to find another movie to watch.
"That being said," You added with a smirk. "I still expect an 'I'm sorry' when you wake me up too early, throw away my food before I'm done with it, steal my blanket, steal my hat, take my chocolate," You paused suddenly. "Actually, don't apologize about the chocolate. You get the idea though."
"I believe I understand," He replied, an almost chuckle sneaking into his voice and laughter in his eyes. "In that case, I won't need to apologize for this," He said holding up two chocolate bars he had been hiding.
"Never."
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peralta-guaranteed · 4 years ago
Note
hc of amy having a bad day and struggling with mac? say he’s very clingy or also upset
Guess what, this accidentally turned into a fic too. And it kinda shifted into 'Jake and Amy having a bad day and struggling with Mac for very different reasons'... I hope you still like it!
(read it on AO3)
It had become evident pretty early on that when Mac got sick, he gravitated towards Amy much more. Sure, Jake was also sometimes good for snotty cuddles and cough-soothing baths, but at some point he would call for his mom, or whine and spread his arms towards her with his legs kicking in frustration, and it said a lot about how much Jake has grown that he didn't even hesitate to hand him over without acting hurt. Maybe the blissful calm washing over Mac's face as soon as Amy was hugging him helped with that, too. It was such a wonderful thing to see after hours of crying, coughing, sneezing, whining and general sad pouting that only a Peralta-baby is capable of, Jake barely had the energy to worry about how it felt to be so blatantly rejected by his little boy.
It'd also become evident that Mac’s clingy phase had started a bit earlier than most of their parenting books prophesied. If Amy was home, he wanted to be on her lap, or in her arms, or wrapping his little arms around her leg as she tried to work in the kitchen. Jake got “NO!”ed and waved away far more often than he was asked for a hug himself, and again, it took a lot of newfound maturity not to let that get to him - and maybe he did not have enough of that yet, because it absolutely got to him in quieter moments.
(He knew it’d pass, like any phase in a toddler’s life passes at some point. Like the phase of Mac refusing anything but that one specific carrot puree passed, or the phase of him being unable to sleep anywhere except cuddled in between them, waking up as soon as they tried to carry him back to his own bed.)
The real trouble starts when both these situations collide.
-*-
Mac woke them up at 4:30 sharp, two hours before Amy’s first alarm, crying so hard it almost sounded like screaming. When Jake tiptoed into the nursery, he had to ignore the frustrated shouts of Nonono and Mamam that he was almost used to by now, to actually check what was wrong. Probably another ear infection, he realised after seeing the symptoms they’d become very familiar with during the last time they’d battled through one of those. They had to bring him to the doctor to be sure, but he already knew they were looking forward to at least two days of unsoothable crying and fussing.
He also knew that things would be hell for Amy.
In theory, it would make far more sense for him to call in sick to take care of Mac. As much as he loved his detective work, the simple fact that his wife outranked him (and thus outdid him in both salary and responsibilities, obviously) meant that if one of them had to take a few days off, it should be him first and foremost. In practice, however, Mac was going to be even more insufferable than just from his sickness if left alone with him at the moment. He was still crying for Amy as Jake lifted him out of the cot - he would be screaming bloody murder if she closed the door of the apartment behind her.
“Earache?” Amy asked already as Jake stepped back into the bedroom, Mac’s wailing lessening only slightly as he stretched his arms out toward her. She pulled him to her as Jake sighed and nodded.
“I think so. I’ll take him to the doc when they open.” He tried to offer, but he knew Amy would refuse it anyway.
“No, I can do it. I’ll call in sick - you get back to sleep for work.”
“I’ll try.” He sighed again as he dropped onto his back while Amy was sitting up to sway Mac, who’d actually quieted down into little sobs and sniffles in her arms. “I’m sorry, Ames.”
“It’s nobody’s fault he’s sick, especially not yours.”
“Yeah, but I wish I could help more. If he wasn’t- you know.”
“I know.” Amy let her free hand not holding Mac drift through Jake’s sleep-messy curls. She knew that, as much as he tried to pretend it wasn’t bothering him, he secretly hated the thought of his son rejecting him in any way, even if it was as nonsensical as a clingy toddler phase.
Luckily it didn’t take long for him to actually fall back asleep with her hand in his hair, and she carefully wiggled out of bed to let him rest while settling down with a still crying Mac in his nursery rocking chair.
-*-
They got to get ready together as they usually did in the morning, at least - even if Amy was only getting dressed to drive to the pediatrician and straight back again. She’d already called Holt and explained the situation before Jake handed her a mug of coffee, and Mac had been, at the least, not crying for the last ten minutes while sitting in his playpen in the living room. Maybe things wouldn’t be as bad as last time.
“I can pick up whatever the doc prescribes on my lunch break.” Jake smiled at her, ruefully, and she considered telling him again that it was okay, that she could do it - but something told her to keep her options of at least a few minutes not alone with a sick toddler open.
She desperately needed that option when lunchtime came around.
Doctor Maurice had quickly confirmed their suspicions and told her that there wasn’t much more they could do than wait it out, keep an eye on his fever and medicate with ibuprofen and warm compresses. Not that any of that had helped. When Mac wasn’t crying, he was screaming, and when he wasn’t screaming, he wanted to be close to her, but he couldn’t lie down without the pain getting worse, so simply plonking down on the couch with him was out of the question. She’d let him breastfeed far more than had been their norm now that he was slowly getting weaned, because it seemed to give him some relief at least, as well as quieting him for a blissful moment. But then the infection had travelled to his stomach as well, the same way it had last time, and he staunchly refused any and all food or milk. She’d seriously started considering foregoing the diapers completely and just letting him play in the empty bathtub so she could rinse him off from time to time, because five dirty diapers in under twenty minutes had to be some sort of new record.
So when Jake texted her he was on his way, with a picture of another box of ibuprofen and that herbal steam-bath mix that had helped last time, she sent a silent thank you prayer to anyone who wanted to listen. And she mumbled a not quite as silent thank you against Jake’s lips before he could even get his shoes off at the door.
“I got you one of the good bagel sandwiches for lunch, too.” He said as he hugged her and combed through her messy hair.
“I love you so much.” She hadn’t even realised that the only thing in her stomach so far was still the cup of coffee he’d made her this morning.
He grinned as he put the deli paper bag on the kitchen counter and went over to Mac’s playpen, to say hello to a currently only softly whining toddler smacking an innocent teddy against a pile of soft fabric blocks. Amy followed to wrap her arms around his waist from behind and rest her head against his back, taking in a few deep breaths of Jake, of something that didn’t smell of diarrhea, moist compresses, milk-hiccups and spit up.
“Also Holt gave me an hour for lunch, so if you want to take a nap or something-”
“God.” Amy groaned with pure happiness as Jake turned around in her embrace. “Marry me, Mr. Perfect.”
“Any place, any time, babe.” He kissed the crown of her head while returning her hug, sniffing her hair with a chuckle. “But maybe a shower first before the big day.”
“Rude.” Amy mumbled with her face pressed against his chest. “I rescind the proposal.”
His chuckle turned into a laugh at that, and he slowly unraveled her arms around him. “Nap first, then shower, how’s that sound? Then a bagel. I’ll give Mac his lunch.”
“Good luck with that.” She sighed before giving him another quick kiss and making a beeline for the bedroom.
-*-
She’d hopped straight from bed into the bathroom later, relishing in the feeling of the hot water washing away any aches left over after that much needed nap. Alas, when she stepped out of the oh-so-peaceful bathroom, she was met with a wall of sound.
Mac was wailing, hard, as Jake swayed him back and forth, holding another warm compress against his little ear, and trying to make soothing noises despite the shrill screams of No and MAMA! straight into his face.
“Shsshhshsh, hey, it’s okay, bud, it’s okay. I know you don’t like me much at the moment, but it’s gonna be okay, and mom is coming back soon-”
He stopped as he noticed her stepping into the room, giving her an apologetic smile as she took Mac from him. The wailing turned into regular crying at least, albeit still loud.
“I’m sorry babe - did he wake you up? He won’t eat either.”
“I set an alarm, actually. So you won’t be back late.” Amy sat down on the couch and pulled up her shirt (freshly changed after the shower, and god had that felt good as well). Mac latched onto her breast almost immediately, and a wonderful quiet settled across the room, only his little snuffling and suckling noises breaking through.
Jake’s face was unreadable before he turned towards the kitchen to plate her bagel, but that stoic, almost empty expression told her enough anyway. She grabbed his wrist as he set the plate down on the couch table, pulled softly until he sat down next to her, running her fingers through his hair again to comfort him.
“You know it’s not true, right?”
“Hm?” Jake looked up at her after watching Mac, who finally seemed to calm down completely in her arm, with a vacant look in his eyes.
“It’s not true that he doesn’t like you. He loves you just as much as me. It’s just a difficult phase.”
“I know that.” Jake’s attempt at a smile was still sad enough, and she wiped across the corner of it with the soft tip of her thumb.
“And I love you too. So much.”
“I know that.” And this new smile seemed to turn out right, at least. “You wanna re-marry me, after all.” He teased as he leant his head against her shoulder, looking down at Mac again with a much less forlorn expression.
“Hey, I rescinded that proposal!” She quipped back, falling into their usual banter easily now that she was rested enough and sure that Jake felt better as well. “But I might consider re-re-proposing again if you promise to pick up Polish for dinner.”
“I knew you only wanted me for all the free food delivery.”
“I also need you for other things.” Amy said as she sat up a bit straighter to finish Mac’s feeding, Jake’s head lifting off of her shoulder with the movement. “Like burping your kid. I really don’t want spit-up down this fresh shirt.”
“Aye aye, Sergeant.” Jake joked, already scrabbling for the burp cloth thrown over the armchair next to them and taking Mac out of her arms.
She watched him as he expertly settled the little, squirming bundle against his chest, the swaying and patting motion almost second nature by now, ducking his head down for a quick sniff of that perfect toddler hair scent. He’d have to leave for the precinct soon enough, and she certainly wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the afternoon probably being a reprise of her entire morning, and she didn’t even want to think about the night or next day to come.
Life with a toddler was unpredictable. Almost nothing was in her control anymore. But, as she’d learned over the years, as long as she was with the right people, she could handle anything. And Jake Peralta proved, again and again, that he was the right person for her.
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