#So instead please imagine me holding up a picture of them while frantically pointing at it and screeching incoherently like a howler monkey | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marauderundercover · 4 years ago

Text

Taking Chances Chapter Seven: Trying for Normal (Gifts)

AO3

“You can not honestly tell me you are thinking of announcing that girl as your daughter.” Damian says, his scowl deeper than Dick had seen it in a while.

“‘That girl’ has a name, Little D. Plus she’s your sister.” Dick says, resisting the urge to nudge him. They had gotten to the point where a small nudge wasn’t a death sentence, but Damian was on edge. And a small nudge would probably not be appreciated.

“I do not care what her name is, Grayson. Since coming to Gotham she has been involved in two separate Rogue attacks. She is suspicious at best, and a nuisance at worst.” He replies, crossing his arms.

“Enough, Damian. Marinette is not a nuisance. She simply has bad luck.” Bruce says, obviously trying to defend his daughter.

“And poor self-preservation skills. Talking back to the Joker? Snarking the Riddler? For an individual with no combat training, she gets much too involved in attacks. It is idiotic.” Damian argues, shaking his head.

“It might have something to do with the Paris situation. She said she’s been at attacks before, so she must have some experience with villains. And from what I read on the Ladyblog, none of the damage in Paris lasts. She just may not realize how dangerous it is for her to do here what she would do in Paris. We just need to warn her, or, at least remind her, that Gotham is a dangerous place.” Dick says, thinking back to her reaction to the Riddler and the Joker. She was definitely more tense with the Joker, despite the fact that both villains had arrived with armed goons. Maybe she thought the Riddler was less likely to kill someone, not true. Or maybe she- Dick frowns as he remembers a key difference between the attacks.

“I just realized something.” He says with a frown.

“Care to share with the rest of the room, Dickiebird?” Jason asks, strolling in and flopping onto a chair.

“She was more tense at the attack with the Joker, she seemed to understand that it was a dangerous situation. Sure, she talked back to him, but she didn’t try to fight back or anything. But at the attack with the Riddler, he wasn’t even targeting her at first. He was targeting the boy she’d been talking to. And she was more reckless, and then she fought back. She fought well, but it was still super dangerous.” Dick rambles, pacing as he explains the predicament.

“Is there a point to this? I feel like I walked in at the wrong time.” Jason calls out from his chair, feet propped up on the table in front of him.

“My point, Jay, is that Marinette has a crush.” Dick says, shuddering at the word like it’s something disgusting. (It is, his sister is too young for crushes and boyfriends).

“Is that why she ran off with him right after the attack?” Jason asks with a smirk. Dick feels his eyes practically shoot out of his head.

“She what!?” He yells, running over to the Batcomputer to look at the security footage from the wax museum. Spots that were targeted frequently, like the wax museum, had their security footage directly linked to the Batcave. Just in case of an emergency or in case an attack happened and they needed an extra set of eyes.

“I’m sure she didn’t do anything that you wouldn’t do.” Jason teases, and Dick pales.

“Shut up, Jason!” He moans, his typing turning frantic as he scrolls through the day’s footage. He stops when he gets to the moments after the battle. When the phones of the French students had all gone off. Frowning, he watches as his sister runs up to the boy and grabs his hand, leaning in and whispering to each other before the two run out of the room. Towards the bathrooms. Oh hell no. Dick scrolls forwards, frowning when they don’t come out in five minutes. Or ten minutes. Huffing, he switches to the cameras aimed at the exits. Surely one of the cameras had to catch the pair leaving the museum. He rewinds it and watches, but...there’s nothing. They don’t leave the bathrooms and they don’t leave the museum. For the rest of the day.

“Has anyone been in contact with her since the attack?” Bruce asks from right beside him, making him jump out of his seat with a yelp.

“I don’t even have her number.” Dick says, resisting the urge to glare at his adoptive father. He might’ve had Marinette’s number had Bruce actually acted like he wanted her to be there for dinner the other day. Instead, he practically ignored her and she left. And now she was missing. Definitely missing, because she never came out of the bathroom at the museum.

“Hello, Marinette? Yes, I apologize for calling so suddenly. I was- yes. Yes, I did hear about the attack….yes, that was part of the reason I was calling. I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner at the manor. You could bring your friend, Adrien Agreste, I believe was his name. Of course. Yes. Oh no, I’ll send a car. No, no I assure you it- Marinette please. Taxis aren’t always safe after dark. Thank you. Yes, I- we’ll see you then. Goodbye.” Bruce hangs up, and Dick looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Just gonna suddenly invite her and her boy toy to dinner, B? What’re you gonna do, interrogate them?” He asks frowning.

“That’s the second time that Marinette has ran off after that alarm. I’ve seen videos of the situation in Paris and I’m concerned. Now go upstairs and act normal. I want all of you on your best behaviors at dinner. Damian, better than best please. No weapons.” Bruce directs before leaving the room, presumably to ask Alfred to pick up Marinette. Dick sighs and looks at his brothers.

“Well this isn’t going to be a disaster or anything.” He says. --- “Tikki this is going to be a disaster!” Marinette whines, throwing herself face first onto the bed. She tries to ignore Tikki’s amused giggle. This was not funny. This was dinner with her family that she hadn’t made a great impression on the first time. And Adrien was invited, and she wasn’t sure where the two stood but she was sure that if Dick was at dinner, he would just push Adrien farther away from her.

“I could practically hear your suffering from Adrien’s room, pigtails.” Plagg says, making Marinette sit up and glare at the Kwami.

“Are you just here to mock me?” She asks, pouting. He snorts.

“No, I’m here to tell you the kid’s on his way over here. I told him you were panicking and he practically ran out his door.” Plagg says with a chuckle. Rapid knocking on the door makes him laugh more before dropping onto the bed next to Tikki. Marinette sighs, rolling off the bed and pulling the door open, jumping forward in time to catch Adrien before he completely falls to the ground.

“Are you okay? Plagg said you were panicking, did something happen?” He asks quickly, looking her up and down. Marinette blinks, slightly taken aback by his sudden concern. It was nice, but still a lot all at once. Shaking her head, she gestures for him to come in and shuts the door behind him. Walking back over to the bed, she once again face plants and groans.

“She’s nervous because Mr. Wayne invited the two of you to dinner.” Tikki chirps, giggling when Marinette lifts her head up enough to glare at her.

“Traitor.” She says, dropping her head back down.

“If you don’t want me to go with Marinette, I won’t.” Adrien says. Marinette immediately jumps up, shaking her head rapidly.

“No, no that’s not what I meant. I just- I’m nervous about actually sitting through a dinner with them. And I’m pretty sure Dick will try and sit between us and glare at you like he did at the museum.” She admits, cursing the way her cheeks heat up. Adrien raises an eyebrow.

“He was glaring at me?” He asks, utter confusion on his face. Marinette groans, dropping her head into her hands.

“Sometimes your obliviousness is cute-”

“You think I’m cute!”

“But right now, it’s kinda making me want to scream into my pillow.” Marinette admits, giving him her signature “not amused” look. A look she usually saves for when Chat Noir is making a pun.

“Wait, why wouldn’t Dick like me?” Adrien asks, thankfully stuck on that now instead of the fact that she thinks he’s cute.

“Um, maybe because we were holding hands? Did you really not notice how he kept standing in between us the entire time we were at the museum?” Marinette asks, suddenly unsure if she’d imagined the whole thing.

“Oh no, I did. I just didn’t think it meant he didn’t like me. I’ve never really dealt with siblings before. I mean, I’ve met Nino’s little brother but...that’s about it.” Adrien says, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. Marinette sighs, grinning softly.

“I don’t really have a lot of experience either, so maybe I was just imagining things.” She admits. Adrien’s shoulders instantly relax and she smiles. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, did you want me to come with?” He asks after a moment of silence. Marinette nods, agreeing immediately.

“Please. I don’t think I can go back there alone, not yet anyway.”

“Of course, Mari. Now, what’re you wearing?” --- The ride to Wayne Manor wasn’t as quiet as her first, with Adrien making quiet jokes and saying things to try and help keep Marinette out of her head. She was thankful that he had come with, because she was definitely going to need the emotional support to get through dinner. The car stops and Marinette sucks in a deep breath. Smoothing out her skirt nervously, Marinette glances at the small, neatly wrapped package sitting between her and Adrien. It was something she had started back when she first found out she was adopted. And that her parents didn’t know her bio dad. A scrapbook with copies of everything important from her life: baby pictures, school pictures, birth announcement, report cards, clippings from newspapers where she had won or placed in contests, pictures of her early designs and recent designs, pictures of certificates and trophies from various competitions and activities. Basically a road map of her life to be given to her bio dad so that he could get to know her. She’d written her name on the front page, with the words “daughter of Bruce Wayne and Bridgette Le” underneath. A sort of amendment to her birth announcement which listed her as the daughter of Tom and Sabine Dupain Cheng. And while she definitely was their daughter, she also wanted Mr. Wayne to know that she wanted to be his daughter too. Not just by blood, which isn’t the important part. No, she wanted to get to know him and for him to get to know her. Pushing down the intruding thoughts insisting that it was too soon and that he didn’t want her in the first place, she opens the car door and steps out, clutching the package to her chest like a safety blanket.

“Would you like me to take that for you, Miss Marinette?” Alfred asks, glancing at the package.

“Oh, no thank you Alfred. It’s for my da- er, um, Mr. Wayne. I can hang onto it.” She says with a bright smile. She could do this. Sure, it didn’t go great the last time she was here. And she was pretty sure Mr. Wayne’s youngest son could kill her and wanted to kill her. But it was fine. Everything is fine. Walking through the front door, her shoulders relax slightly when she sees Dick is the only one standing there waiting for them.

“Marinette! He cheers, rushing forward and picking her up in a hug. As in, legitimately picking her up. Okay then.

“Good to see you too.” She says, trying not to show that he’s literally suffocating her with the hug.

“Good to see you again, Dick!” Adrien says cheerfully. Marinette feels Dick tense before setting her down, his smile less bright as he looks at Adrien.

“And you. Adrien, right?” He asks, sticking his hand out for a handshake.

“Yup!” Adrien says cheerfully. Marinette watches cautiously, noticing that Dick seems to be squeezing a little too hard….and then Adrien appears to match his strength, if the look on Dick’s face is anything to go by. Marinette coughs to hide a snort, her face heating up as both boys turn to look at her.

“Uh, is it just you and Mr. Wayne tonight?” Marinette asks, choosing to ignore their awkward handshake.

“Nope! It’s me and Bruce and Alfred, of course, and Jay and Tim and Damian and Cass. Steph’s not in town and Babs is having dinner with her dad.” Dick says, and Marinette’s eyes widen. There were a lot more people in her bio dad’s family than she thought. She knew about the boys, but she hadn’t seen anything about Cass, Steph or ‘Babs’.

“I didn’t realize I had sisters too.” She says instead of voicing her insecurities. Before she only had the boys to measure up against, now she had three girls too?

“Well, the only official sister is Cass. Steph used to date Tim and she just kinda stuck around. She’s practically family at this point. And Babs and I used to date, but again, she stuck around after and now she’s practically family.” Dick explains with a grin and a shrug. Cause having your exes around isn’t awkward. Or, maybe it isn’t. She doesn’t have any exes to compare it to. Just as she starts to get lost in her thoughts, she feels Adrien brush against her gently. Reminding her that he’s there, for her, giving her the strength she needs to follow Dick into the living room. Where everyone else was sitting. Oh boy.

“Marinette, so glad you could join us. And Mr. Agreste, nice to see you again.” Bruce says, standing from his spot and moving to shake Adrien’s hand.

“You as well, M. Wayne. And please, call me Adrien. Mr. Agreste is my father.” He says, and Marinette can just barely see his wince. His father always had been his least favorite subject, no matter how much or how little they spoke of him.

“Thanks for inviting us.” Marinette says, moving the package so that she’s no longer clutching it like a lifeline. Holding it out to Mr. Wayne, she laughs at his confused face. “It’s a present.” She adds.

“Oh, well, thank you.” He says, his face unreadable. Marinette shifts her weight, glancing between him and the package, waiting for him to open it. Or properly introduce her to the rest of the family. Either option would work at this point. Glancing at Dick, she sighs in relief when he claps. At least someone was going to make the first move.

“Right, so I don’t think you got the chance to meet Jason and Damian properly when you were here the other day.” Dick says, tugging her around a still frozen Bruce in front of the two boys from the other day.

“No, I didn’t. Hi, I’m Marinette.” She says, smiling and holding out a hand to Damian first. He tuts and turns away, making Marinette’s smile fall slightly before she turns to Jason. Jason grins and shakes her hand.

“Welcome to the family, kid.” He says, before whistling. “You didn’t get B’s height, that’s for sure.” He teases, Marinette snorts, her smile turning into a teasing smirk.

“Hey, don’t count me out for my height. Ever heard the phrase, small but mighty?” She asks, crossing her arms. Jason snorts, reaching out and messing up her hair.

“Whatever you say, Pixie Pop.” He replies. She rolls her eyes and turns to the other two siblings she hadn’t met.

“Hi, you must be Tim and Cass.” She says, smiling at both of them. Tim nods, his hand twitching towards his pocket. Marinette tries not to laugh, having seen Max do the same thing when he had to socialize for any amount of time. The boy was always far more comfortable with his phone in his hand, even if he wasn’t actually looking at it. Cass smiles, and Marinette notices her hands moving. “Sorry, could you repeat that, I wasn’t watching closely.” She says. Cass’ smile widens and she nods before starting over.

“Welcome to family. Nice to meet you.” Cass signs, making Marinette beam.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She says, eyes widening when she realizes she left Adrien alone with a frozen Mr. Wayne. Whirling around, she moved back to Adrien and tugged him forward, rolling her eyes at his surprised yelp. Honestly, he should expect this by now.

“Geeze, Princess. Give a man a warning.” He says, adjusting his shirt that she’d accidentally messed up.

“Sorry k- Adrien. Sorry. Anyway, uh, everyone this is my friend Adrien Agreste. Adrien this is Jason, Damian, Tim, Cass and you already know Dick.” Marinette introduces, gesturing to each of her new siblings. Adrien shoots a wide smile, not quite his model smile but also not quite a real one.

“Nice to meet you all.” He says.

“Marinette, I apologize. Did you want me to open this now?” Mr. Wayne asks suddenly. She turns and raises an eyebrow at his unreadable expression and the way he holds onto the present like he doesn’t know what to expect. Which is fair, considering they’d only met in person the day before.

“Oh, um, if you want to. It’s nothing big.” She says, watching nervously as he nods and unwraps it. His eyebrows twitch together as he looks at the book, obviously not yet understanding.

“Open it, B.” Dick whispers, clearly understanding the gift more than their father. Mr. Wayne nods and opens it, his unreadable expression falling into one that she...still can’t read. But it’s not emotionless anymore. As he flips through the book, a small smile creeps its way onto his face and Marinette almost cheers. That’s the most sincere look she’d ever seen on the man.

“Did you put all this together?” He asks, glancing up from the book to look at her. Marinette nods.

“When I found out I was adopted, I wanted to have something to give my bio dad. So that even if he didn’t want to see me in person, he could get to know me. When I found out you’re my, um, dad, I added some personal touches.” She says.

“And I can keep this?” He asks, and Marinette’s shocked that he sounds almost scared. As if he thinks she’ll say no and take everything back. She smiles.

“Of course. My Maman and Papa already have those pictures. These are all yours.” She says.

“Thank you, Marinette. I- This is an amazing gift.” He says. Marinette’s smile widens and her shoulders sag in relief. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @jayjayspixiepop @jjmjjktth @mizzy-pop @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @waiting247 @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @imarivers8 @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks

195 notes · View notes

the-last-kenobi · 4 years ago

Note

If you’re still taking prompts: 22. “When you’re feeling better, I swear, we’ll talk this out.” Qui-Gon& Obi-Wan. You’re writing is so lovely btw!!

Yay, more prompts! And I do love this one. Thank you for choosing it!

CW: this one got rather dark. there are heavy implications of and references to attempted assault of a minor, child death, and other horrors of war.

From this various prompts list.

Requests are currently closed.

They were three days out from Coruscant when the fever made a turn for the worse.

The Jinn/Kenobi team had been deployed to Calzec III to investigate the disappearance of an ambassador, an assignment that had led them down very dark paths into the minds and heart of a planetary society.

A mere two days into their investigation, Obi-Wan had vanished — kidnapped, it was quickly discovered, by the party responsible for the disappearance and murder of the ambassador.

Qui-Gon had assumed that the six days between Obi-Wan’s abduction and his recovery would be the worst of it.

That the growing dread inside him that had gnawed away at his concentration and serenity, the likelihood that he would not reach his apprentice in time, his fears that Obi-Wan was being hurt, would be the most difficult things to handle.

Or even the mingled relief and panic when he had finally found his sixteen-year-old Padawan bound and unconscious in a cellar with a floor half-flooded in dirty water — that after that, they had survived the worst.

He was mistaken.

Obi-Wan was ill when he was pulled out of that cellar. There was no one to trust and nowhere to flee except off-planet, and the the distance between Calzec III and the nearest medically advanced planet was no shorter than simply returning to Coruscant.

So he set a course for Coruscant and settled Obi-Wan in his bunk, stripping off the soiled clothing he had been wearing since his kidnapping and replacing them with a clean set of tunics.

The boy was exhausted, unfocused; his skin was clammy to the touch and he had brief periods where he seemed fully awake and mostly functional.

After the first day of hyperspace travel, they had settled into a routine. Qui-Gon kept to the cockpit, while Obi-Wan kept to his bunk and the fresher, trying to rest and to contain his illness. Qui-Gon knocked periodically on his door, reassuring himself that his apprentice was all right.

And that he was there, because working alone on a hostile planet without knowing anything of his Padawan’s wellbeing aside from being sure that he was in danger had been more of a trial than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

And then, on the third day, he knocked lightly on the door and received no reply.

“Obi-Wan?” he called.

He thought he heard an indistinct mumble. Qui-Gon chuckled, imagining the boy emerging from his blankets like an irritated loth-cat, rumpled and annoyed.

Then Obi-Wan screamed.

Qui-Gon’s mind conjured — for a split second — a new version of the image he had pictured in his mind for over a week — his Padawan, attacked in his sleep — drugged — dragged from his bed —

Then he blinked and the image vanished. Qui-Gon inhaled sharply and pressed on the entry pad, opening the door. He stepped inside the cramped cabin and was relieved to see the boy securely in his bed, the room completely absent of any impossible intruders. But Obi-Wan’s face was flushed with fever, and he was struggling beneath his blankets, thrashing as if he were actually being attacked.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said firmly, shaking his shoulder. “Obi-Wan, wake up.”

The Padawan didn’t seem to register Qui-Gon’s presence at all. He struggled with his bedsheets, small whimpers escaping his lips as he fought.

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon said more sharply. “Wake up now!”

Obi-Wan rolled onto his side and dry heaved, his eyes flying open. His Master dropped to his knees beside the bed, running a hand soothingly up and down the boy’s arm. “It’s all right,” he said. “You were dreaming.”

“C-C—” Obi-Wan choked.

“Shh,” Qui-Gon said again.

“Cerasi��”

Qui-Gon’s heart plummeted. Obi-Wan was not coherent, that was obvious.

The boy had not mentioned that name in over two years.

“Padawan, you must focus,” he said softly. “This is not Melida/Daan. We are on a ship, heading home.”

“Cerasi is…”

��dead…

“…gonna… kill you.” Obi-Wan’s words, and the sheer venom in them, shocked the Jedi Master. Obi-Wan was still struggling, but more slowly now, almost as if he didn’t realize he was doing so. His eyes flickered feverishly to the middle distance, seeing things that weren’t there.

“Padawan…” Qui-Gon said slowly.

“Let them go!” Obi-Wan shrieked suddenly. One arm came loose from the blankets and missed striking his Master by inches. “Let them go, they’re too young! Let them go let them go let them go!”

“Obi-Wan!” Qui-Gon seized his Padawan by the shoulders.

Bloodshot blue eyes suddenly snapped directly onto Qui-Gon’s face, but instead of calming, Obi-Wan’s panic only increased. “Get off me!” He screamed, twisting, kicking, squirming away. “Don’t… don’t you touch me! Stop, stop, stop!” he was wailing now, utter despair twisting his face beyond recognition. “Please don’t!”

Qui-Gon released his Padawan as if burned. He pulled away sharply, horror rising in him, tasting bile.

I wasn’t — I wouldn’t —

It’s a fever dream —

A memory?

Qui-Gon tasted bile. “No,” he heard himself say aloud. “No.”

Obi-Wan had squirmed away, pressing himself flat against the wall the bed rested against, his body curling inwards — the last defense of the helpless, the frightened. The abused.

“I won’t,” he was saying frantically. “I won’t. Get out. Get out. They’re flying in the morning, they’re flying — Nield said — we tried to take the tank but — we lost too many — no. I tried! I did!”

Obi-Wan fell abruptly silent again, staring vaguely, his breaths coming in uneven little puffs. Sweat glistened on his brow, in his hair.

Qui-Gon wanted desperately to reach out and touch his shoulder, wipe his brow, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it, terrified of causing another panicked outburst, of hearing —

I don’t know what happened on Melida/Daan.

“Trevor, Meola, Hanta, Chassi, come with me,” Obi-Wan said, still gazing vacantly. His voice, however, was firm. “We need to clear the streets. Gather up the bodies. Any pieces large enough to carry. Leave anything too small.”

I never asked him. I just assumed. He told me about the end of the war and Cerasi’s murder and I never thought to ask for more.

“Hanta?” Obi-Wan said. He coughed. Kept trying to talk even though he could barely breathe. “Hanta? Dammit… she’s gone. Infection. Infection. We’re out of medicine. We’re out. They can’t. I won’t go. They can’t they can’t. Get out.”

Obi-Wan dissolved into jumbled sentences, his eyes fluttering open and shut and open again, his cheeks blazing with fever.

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon whispered.

“Cerasi?”

“Obi-Wan.”

“I can ask,” Obi-Wan said, and he sounded very small, so uncertain, nothing like the slowly-more-confident but quiet Padawan who had accompanied him last week. “I could. But he’s not. He’s not. He left, he doesn’t — he doesn’t want me.”

Another chill swept through Qui-Gon. He held his breath, waiting for more, not wanting to hear it but needing to know.

“He left me, I’m not meant — he said I wasn’t meant to be — I’m not good enough for it, Cerasi,” Obi-Wan murmured. His eyes fell closed again. He almost seemed to be sleeping. “He was right about… right about me. I’m not. Not. I can ask. He might not… come back. For you. For you he might. He’s good. Not me. Not me.”

Qui-Gon dropped his head onto the bedsheets, his breath sharp and painful in his chest.

I never asked.

“Nield. I will ask. I’ll ask the Jedi I will, I will. I’m not one of them. For you. I’ll ask for you.”

We never talked about it.

“The little ones, Cerasi. I can watch them. I’ll watch them today. My fingers. The man, he broke my fingers in the alleyway. I’ll watch the little ones, little ones. It’s story time, Jilo. Shhh.”

I let everything that happened afterwards consume it. Consume me.

“Qui-Gon doesn’t want me,” Obi-Wan said, so, so softly, his tone perfectly reasonable. Calm. “My fault. I’m not. It’s okay. I’ll talk to them. It’s okay. I want to… I want to go home. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t,” Obi-Wan’s voice cracked. “I want to go home.”

My Padawan.

With utmost care, Qui-Gon rose to his feet, feeling the floor sway beneath him as if he were at sea and not flying through hyperspace.

He went to the fresher and poured a glass of water and dampened a rag, carrying them both back to the beside. He set the glass on a table, and seated himself cautiously on the side of the bed, radiating as much calm as he could, trying to make his presence known through their training bond.

It must have worked, because Obi-Wan did not panic or flinch away from the person sitting beside him. Or perhaps he was simply too tired, delirious to the point of vacancy.

Qui-Gon reached out with one hand and gently pressed the boy back against his pillows, resting the cool cloth against his forehead once he had settled. He kept his hand there for awhile, and gently stroked the sweat-soaked hair with his thumb, watching the boy’s eyelids flicker as he began to doze, to dream.

With his other hand, Qui-Gon gently took one of Obi-Wan’s, holding it gently as if it were fragile, a treasure beyond price.

“Oh, my boy,” he whispered, and was not shocked to taste salt on his lips as he spoke. “Sleep now. When you wake, we will talk, I swear it. We’ll talk about everything. Anything you want.”

Obi-Wan continued to dream.

As he fell deeper into sleep, his fingers curled gently around Qui-Gon’s, and he did not let go.

fin.

142 notes · View notes

mcyt-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

TommyInnit Confession HCs

This is a combination of an imagine and some headcanons, this is a new way of writing for me so let me know if you enjoyed this format!

- Tommy realising he loves the reader and how he’d confess to them -

Tommy definitely would deny being interested in the reader in the beginning.

It would probably be a natural progression of feelings but tommy just wouldn’t realise it until WAY too late.

Like he just catches himself thinking about them when he’s just doing schoolwork and chores. And then he’s aware of just how much his mind wanders to them. Far too often in his humble opinion.

He lays hints about his crush when talking with Tubbo. He’s real defensive about it though. “You much of a ladies man Tubbo?” Trying to discretely get advice without actually asking for any. And Tubbo being Tubbo means he completely missed all the hints Tommy was dropping. (Not that Tommy’s hints were any good)

His stream for sure notices a change in his behavior, more scatterbrained showing visible signs of stress maybe a little more irritable too. Tubbo definitely notices the changes too and asks him about it.

Tubbo would probably ask tommy on stream or in private something along the lines of. “What’s up Tommy, you’ve been kinda uh, distracted lately…”

Tommy for suuuuuure blushes and stutters out a response that even Tubbo doesn’t buy. (So instead he talks to Tubbo about it off stream, doesn’t mention his crushes name, but he keeps Tubbo in the loop. Tubbo finds the whole thing very funny because of how defensive Tommy gets in response, however he offers his support to Tommy, obviously. “Even though I have no experience with romance Tommy. I’ll do my best to be the best wingman ever!” With a salute to Tommy on his webcam. Tubbo quickly leaves the call saying he needs to do some ‘research’ (he puts the word in quotation marks with a wink)

Tommy would be a stubborn flustered MESS if stream ever figured out that he was crushing on someone.

And of course they find out because Tubbo slips up and mentions Tommy having a crush.

By that point he is absolutely CONSUMED by his thoughts about the reader as the more he tries to not think about them the more he wishes he was with them.

He also would 10000% be ignoring or avoiding his crush for as long as possible because he knows he wouldn’t be able to utter a single word to their face. His usual ‘big man’ façade would be in absolute shambles if he were around the reader during this time.

There would be a lot of internal and external swearing from Tommy when he finally realises and accepts that he likes you though.

However, this acceptance doesn’t make him any less stressed because now he needs to figure out whether he is even going to tell you!

But he knows he can’t keep living like this as he can’t keep avoiding his crush forever. And he knows the next time he sees you he knows his heart is going to literally burst out of his chest. And he won’t be able to stop himself. So, he devises a plan.

He gets a pep talk from Tubbo in which they help brainstorm his confession plan but he finds himself messaging Wilbur one late night after his stream. “Hey, can I get some advice?” Wilbur is shocked. “Tommyinnit asking ME for advice? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Wilbur teases him for a short while surely. But when Tommy finally puts his pride aside and tells Wilbur about his crush he sobers up quick and dishes out some solid advice and support for Tommy. “In exchange for my services I better be meeting this crush of yours Tommy.” “You got it big man.”

After speaking with Wilbur Tommy feels as if he can finally breathe for the first time in weeks since he first started to realise his feelings for the reader.

CONFESSION DAY!

Tommy sends the reader a text in the mid-morning asking if they wanted to hang out sometime later today. Also apologizing for how ‘busy’ he’s been the last few weeks using schoolwork or chores as his excuse.

He’s furiously texting Tubbo the WHOLE time he’s waiting for a reply from them. Tubbo pulls Tommy onto Minecraft to try and take his mind off the situation. Offline of course, Tommy would not be able to handle streaming right now.

Even Wilbur sends him a few messages to check in, jumping on discord to give his ear for Tommy to chew off. Which he most definitely does.

Eventually his phone dings and Tommy DIVES for it. “THEY SAID YES!” Both Wilbur and Tubbo groan from Tommy’s mic peaking with his screech.

Tommy waits for a few minutes before replying per Tubbo’s request. “I read it online! You don’t want to seem too into them.” He proclaims with false authority as Wilbur chuckles in the background of the call.

The rest of the afternoon blurs for Tommy as he stays on call with Wilbur and Tubbo as they do their best to distract his overactive mind.

However, as the clock ticks on he knows he needs to start getting ready or he’s going to be late.

Wilbur demands that he choose Tommy’s outfit. So for the next half hour Tommy proceeds to perform a free fashion show for the two, only for Phil to join for a short while to give his two cents before going back to his stream.

Eventually Wilbur settles on what he dubbed “-a classic Tommyinnit look-” one of his favourite red shirts paired with one of his nicer black jackets and the dark charcoal pants his mum had made him get a few months ago for a wedding. They are very uncomfortable.

Tommy heaves a sigh as he thanks Wilbur and Tubbo for sticking around with him today. They both send him away, “Good luck Tommy!” “Go get ‘em big man.”

Tommy had agreed to meet the reader at the park, he thought dinner would have been a bit much. Wilbur and Tubbo both agreed on that front. This park was right near the water, so it had a great view of the sunset. He was still pretty chuffed about that fact, his chat was sooo wrong, he could be romantic if he wanted to after all.

Of course, he was a little late. He repeatedly told his mum to speed. She refused of course. His mother of course had noticed exactly what this ‘hang out’ was and had quizzed him about his crush the night prior.

“Don’t leave the car mum.” Tommy was quick to warn her, he did not want her to be anywhere near them. She didn’t need any more dirt on him to embarrass him with. She could end his whole streaming career in an instant if she wanted. A truly terrifying thought.

Tommy was quick to move near the waterfront puffing slightly, nose a tinge pink with the oncoming chilly wind from the lake. “Hey Tommy.” Tommy would freeze instantly before quickly turning with a forced smile, a little too big for his face. “Hey!”

His crush would lead Tommy over to the nearby bench they had been sitting on before he arrived. And they would definitely sit closer to Tommy than he would have wanted.

Tommy would be so obvious. Stuttering over his words, a LOT of frantic hand movements whenever he’s speaking to them.

Mid-conversation his crush starts to laugh. “Tommy I think I’ve figure out why you have been ‘busy’ recently.” Tommy stills immediately, sweat dripping off of him in POOLS. “H-Huh!?” He makes a noise in the back of his throat that he has NEVER made before.

This seems to only make his crush laugh more, they turn fully to him and take one of his clammy hands. He quickly goes to yank it from their grip knowing how sweaty it is. But their grip is strong, and surprisingly calm in contrast to his shaking hands. He gulps simply staring at the spot where their hands are touching. “Tommy.” His gaze snaps up to their smiling face hiding slight worry. “Breathe.” And he finally does. His tense shoulders drop, and their hand leaves his. And suddenly he’s laughing harder than he ever has before realizing how ridiculous he’s being right now. And when he looks over, so is his crush.

The conversation from that point on flows naturally as the two finally begin to catch up after not seeing each other for a few weeks.

Tommy finally realises how comfortable they make him feel. He simply stares at them as they speak. Awed that it took him this damn long to figure out he liked them.

His crush stops talking, noticing him staring. He jumps out of his thoughts, “Hey Tommy, take a picture it’ll last longer.” And suddenly he’s sweating all over again as they laugh.

His crush is having the time of their life watching ‘big man’ Tommy squirm beside them. Trying his best to scrounge up the courage to say something, anything to them.

They open their mouth to speak when suddenly Tommy yells, “I LIKE YOU!”

Tommy isn’t even looking at them, he has his eyes squeezed shut and he thrusts his arm outwards holding something which promptly shoves into his crush’s chest. Effectively winding them.

They wheeze in response, “Me too. Don’t know why though goD!” They push out through gasps of air, pressing a hand to their chest. Pain beginning to subside as Tommy realises he literally just punched his crush.

His jaw drops and his silence continues as they take what was in his hands. A small book.

A scrapbook.

His crush’s face softens as they flip through the photos, memories flooding back to them of days long gone by.

Tommy stayed up all night yesterday just to finish the final details on the scrapbook, it isn’t the most aesthetically pleasing thing. (Even he knows that) But he put his heart and soul into it.

“Very sweet of you Tommy. But I didn’t bring anything for you…” They end up mumbling in response. Tommy only grins. “So you like it?” They scoff and finally pull Tommy in for a hug. He stills for a moment, then melts into their hold.

Tommy mumbles his apology for literally punching them into his crush’s hair. They giggle into his chest in response, letting him know that it’s fine, they’re okay. Tommy mumbles something incoherent into their hair and presses a cautionary kiss to the top of their head.

“AWWWWW!” A loud noise comes from behind their bench. Tommy and his crush dive apart only to see Tommy’s mum hidden behind a nearby tree.

“MUUUUUUUUUM!” Tommy screeches as his crush cackles out a laugh.

Tommy’s mum ends up driving his crush home as well, they sit in the back seat of the car holding hands.

“This didn’t go at all how I’d planned…” Tommy complains with a deep pout. “Oh really? Your plan didn’t involve punching me? Huh?” Their crush sniggers at him.

“Oh! His real plan-“ His mother starts and in order to cut her off Tommy just starts yelling at the top of his lungs “Nononono!!”. Causing his crush to burst into laughter as the two try to increase their volumes to drown out the other.

His crush shakes their head with a grin and wonders what the hell they’ve just gotten themselves into.

#tommyinnit #tommy x reader #mcyt headcanons #mcyt imagines #mcyt x reader #tommy mcyt

466 notes · View notes

retroellie · 4 years ago

Note

Hi there! Love your writing, especially all the tlou content is just *chefs kiss* If you take requests at the moment, can I ask for a Ellie x reader fic where they're on their way to Seattle and Ellie finds the reader pleasuring herself one evening, saying how they didn't think Ellie would be in the mood given everything, then Ellie makes sure the reader knows she is always in the mood for them ;) I have a soft spot for eager Ellie trying to prove herself when it comes to pleasing her partner, maybe she could ask the reader to sit on her face, maybe some thigh riding idk ^^'

Summary: Ellie gets insecure when walking in on reader pleasuring herself

A/N: Thank you for the request <3 sorry it took so long i just had a lot of ideas ASHAS. Anyways, i started this saying Dom!ellie and than i was like hmmm i want Sub!ellie so i did both. Sorry it sucks but i wanted to get in out today, Happy Valentines day!!

Warnings: NSFW, Fingering, thigh riding

Word count: 3.1K

You were exhausted, blood stained your clothes and you somehow sprained your ankle. You didn’t mean to make her mad or sad or hurt, whatever she was feeling wasn’t your intention but the information coming out of her mouth was too much. You saw her breathe spores and the hoard, you were upset and she was upset. It was just a mess

Ellie had stormed off, telling you she was just going to check to see if it was safe but you knew she was upset. So she left you there, frustrated, scared, and so fucking in love with her. Your body felt like it was on fire, you shouldn’t feel like that at this moment but you did.

Seeing her, her arms, her lips, the way she was so protective of you and so bossy. It made you feel things, maybe it was the fact you hadn’t been touched in almost a month and the tension was building up but it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon.

‘Just a quick get off and than go apologize to Ellie, I need this’ you whispered to yourself

You slid your backpack off before laying back. You shut your eyes, pictures flashed behind your eyelids. Times of you and Ellie, wrapped up in her sheets, her head between your thighs, her eyes boring into your hot skin. Your hand started at your neck before it slowly made its way to your jean button.

Your hand slipper underneath your jeans, sliding it under your underwear. You didn’t hesitate in sliding two fingers in, wanting to get it over as fast as you possibly could. Someone seeing you like this would embarrass you for the rest of your life.

You let your mind go wild, all the quick fucks and long drawn out ones where Ellie did nothing but edge you for hours straight. She always knew how to push the right buttons, making you shake and squirm under her grasp.

Your mind settled on your 1 year anniversary, it opened you up to a whole world of pleasure. Ellie leads you to the bedroom to see a set up they did in cheesy romantic films. She laid you on the bed before kissing up your body, moans escaped your mouth and she basked in them.

You arched your back into your own fingers, grabbed at your own boobs. Your face heated up, it wasn’t much but it’s the own friction you felt in a long time.

‘You look so pretty baby, lemme hear those pretty moans’

Her voice echoed through your head, her silky voice she had on that day etched into your brain. You imagined her fingers instead of your own, imagining she was on top of you. Her hair felt soft in your hands, her touch cooled your flushed hot skin down.

You picked up the pace, working your fingers in and out of you. Your mind racing with thoughts of her, imagining her taste that will never leave your lips. Your toes curled, so close yet so far away. If you could just get out a weak orgasm, you’d be fine it would tide your over.

“I forgot how pretty you looked when you were like this.”

Your eyes shot open, ripping your hand out of your jeans. You almost fell off the couch you were sitting on. You looked up to the voice to see Ellie standing there, smirking down at you.

“Shit, don’t sneak up on me like that.” You breathed out, holding onto your beating heart.

She chuckled, playing with her fingers. Your face heated up more if that was possible, embarrassment coursing through your body. Your orgasm is long gone, your fingers still warm and your body still sweaty.

“Sorry. I heard your moaning, I thought you were hurt.” She said, her eyes never made contact with you.

There was an angry tension, you both were still upset and honestly you were even more upset because of the build up and not being able to finish. You sat back with your arms crossed, Ellie didn’t know what to say. To say you all sweaty with your hand working in and out of you didn’t excite her, she would be lying.

“You know I could’ve helped...” she said, eyes finally meeting your irritated ones.

“What?” You asked, sitting up and buttoning your jeans back up.

She sighed, slowly making her way to the couch to plop next to you. She knew how she hasn’t been much of a help these last few weeks, she hasn’t touched you and she was so grateful you let her take her time. But everyone has a breaking point.

“You could’ve come to me and I could’ve helped get you off.” She elaborated.

As much as you wanted to, you didn’t want to rush her into anything, she was still mourning and she had nightmares. You didn’t want to put more pressure on her. You were completely fine with pleasuring yourself, you just didn't like being interrupted.

“Ellie, you don’t have too.” You started. “I don’t expect you to fuck me after all you’ve been through, I never want you to feel like you have too.”

You had good intentions yes, but she felt she couldn’t please you or you didn’t want to come to her. Ellie always wanted to make you feel good, she had a need for it but she has been distant and just not wanting to do it. The way she was feeling right now, seeing you like that made her feel something. The thought of pleasuring you made her hands shake.

“I can still make you feel good, I’m not going to freak out or anything.” Her voice was laced with a bit of sassiness, she didn’t mean for it to come out like that but she was frustrated

“I know you can ellie, you never fail too...” you paused, moving closer to her. “I just want you to be ready, i don’t want you going into it too fast, I’m completely okay with getting myself off.” You said, kissing her cheek. You kept your head on her shoulder.

She was so lucky to have you, you were the best person she had ever known. After the joel situation you had been nothing but patient with her, letting her take her time. It took her a while to be able to kiss you again, she felt bad she made it out alive and she still blames herself so she felt she didn’t deserve to have the pleasure of kissing you.

The way you looked pleasuring yourself, your chest bouncing up and down, the way you bit your lip, the way you moaned. She was ready, she wanted you. She put a hand on your thigh, sliding it up.

“You wanna get yourself off?” She asked, the silky voice made a come back

Her hand ran up your thigh, it was y’alls first time in a while so of course she was going to tease you. Make you beg and make you want her as much as she did you. You were clueless to what she was doing, your head on her shoulder still.

“I mean i’m okay with doing so, if y...” Her hand had made its way all the way up, meeting your heat

You gasped out, you were still sensitive from touching yourself. It sent hot tingles up your body, making you shiver. Your head perked up, watching her hand. She just chuckled out, moving her hand back to her own thigh.

“Well, what are you waiting for.” She said, patting her thigh

You knew what that meant all too well, the idea never failed to excite you. You gave her a smirk before throwing your legs over hers. You were straddling her, your arms rested on her shoulders and hers on your waist. You looked down at her and she looked up at you, this was the first time in forever where you both had such an intimate reaction with each other.

“Are you sure?” You whispered.

She nodded, giving your hips a quick squeeze before reaching up to kiss you. It was a quick peck, a reassurance that she wanted this. She pulled away, hand on your cheek lovingly.

“Let me make you feel good.” She said, bringing her knee up to meet you. “Take what you need”

You gasped at the sudden action, holding onto her shoulders for dear life. You smirked down at her once more, bringing her into a kiss. You moved your hips, rubbing your heat on her thigh. You were sensitive still and the roughness of your pants on you gave you a delicious burn.

You deepened the kiss, pulling at her hair; moaning into her mouth. Your thrusts were sloppy, trying to get yourself off as best as you can. Her hands rubbed slow circles on your hips, watching as you tried so desperately to get yourself off.

“Come on baby.” she whispered, you threw your head back as sparks of pleasure shot through your body. “You're gonna cum on my thigh, like a good little slut.”

Her words sent more sparks, almost sending you off the edge. She moved her hands up to your chest, grabbing at your boobs. She noticed your hips becoming more frantic, moving at a fast rate. She knew that meant you were close so she snaked her hand up to your neck, just to push you over the edge.

“You doing so great baby, look like a fucking goddess.” She said, watching you unravel.

The pressure on your neck, the words she spoke, the burning of your thighs, it all overwhelmed you in the best way possible. You were thrown off the edge when she bumped her leg up, sending a wave of pleasure through you. You threw your head back, losing control of your hips; lost in the pleasure

“That’s right babe, let go.” Ellie talked you through it, moving her hands back to your hips.

She moved your hips along her thigh, coaxing you through your orgasm. Your body jerked violently, it was the first orgasm you’ve had in a while; it felt like a foreign feeling. She watched as you came down from your high, rubbing comforting circles on your hips.

“It’s okay baby, come back to me.” She encouraged your through it

Your body relaxed a bit, collapsing on her thigh. You let a sigh out as she pushed your hair from your face. She wanted to see you, post-orgasm, sweaty, and so fucking beautiful.

Your vision came back, seeing her give you a little smirk while staring at you. You gave her a small smile before pulling her into a kiss, grabbing at her hair once more.

Her hands made their way up to your hair, you both were grabbing at each other like it was your first time. Her hands in your hair made you feel calm for the first time in weeks, you were so touch deprived that you wanted more of her.

You were becoming more eager, your tongue made its way into her mouth and your hands twirled around in her hair roughly. She chuckled at your neediness before pushing you away gently.

“Someone's needy.” She laughed, dropping her hands back to your hips

You sat back in her lap, breathing hard. The sudden change in demeanor made you nervous, scared maybe you went too fast. The touch felt so nice, it was something you craved every time Ellie was around you and when you finally got it you couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry...am I pushing it.” You asked, untangling your hands from her hair.

“No no, of course not. i want this.” She replied, giving you a small smirk before giving you a small kiss on your nose. “You're just going a little too fast. It's been a while and I can't keep up.” She joked

You smirked at her, pecking her lips a few times. You ran a hand through her hair once more, watching as her eyes closed leaning into your touch. You knew the sudden touch was overwhelming her as well, she wanted to please you.

“We can stop, I don't mind.” You stated

She shook her head, bringing you closer to her. She reached up to kiss your neck softly. The feeling of it made you lightheaded. She laid you down slowly, kissing down your chest. She stopped at your boobs, grabbing the flesh.

“I just wanna fuck you nice and slow that’s all.” She smirked, kissing down your body once more.

She came back up, pulling at your shirt, hinting that she wanted it off. you obeyed, pulling your shirt off your body. The sight left her breathless, your boobs in the plain black bra you wore, your soft stomach, the sweat that glazed your body. It made her body tingle, she was in pure shock.

You pulled on hers as well, she sat up on her knees to pull her shirt over her head exposing her bruised body to you. It felt like you two were exploring each other's body for the first time, the wetness in your underwear grew. You sat up, grabbing her waist. You reached up to kiss her, impatient and wanting her. She bent down to meet your lips, slipping her tongue into your mouth.

Your hands fumbled with her jeans button, trying to undo it but failing. She pulled at your hair, she was the one being needy now. You unbuttoned her jeans, immediately sticking your hand in her jeans. You rubbed her through her underwear, causing her to gasp.

She left tiny kisses along her bra, you let her grind her heat on your fingers; letting her adjust to the immense pleasure. You let her take her time with your fingers, you could feel her wetness grow through her underwear. Her moans grew, grabbing onto your shoulders for support; you decided now was a good time to put your hand in her underwear.

You stuck two fingers in almost immediately, she almost lost her balance. Your fingers worked in and out of her, watching as her legs shook. Her mouth gaped open, her eyes rolled back, her chest rising and falling roughly.

She was lost in her own pleasure, her body was basically frozen up; letting you fuck her with your fingers. You decided to lay her back because she was wobbling back and forth, you could swear she was going to fall and break her head open if you didn’t.

She grabbed onto you, pulling you into a kiss. She grabbed at your boobs, sloppy massaging the flesh. She let out a moan when you brushed your thumb against her bundle of nerves, you smirked.

“K-keep doing that..” She moaned out, you continue working your hand on her

She threw her head back, allowing you to kiss her neck. You sucked, bit and kissed her neck until there was nothing but purple love bites on it. She dug her nails into your back, leaving scars there for sure. You watched in admiration, watching as she took what you gave her so well.

Her hands made their way to her own boobs, grabbing at them. You took that as a hint of what she wanted, you pulled her sports bra up and left soft kisses along the flesh. That’s exactly what she wanted, her moans got louder. Her hands grabbed at you again, making their way down your body.

“I wanna... touch you.” She said, in between breaths.

You nodded, moving your hand down to your jeans. You pulled them off with your hand still on her. She watched as you did so, staring at your cloth covered heat. She leaned up to push you back down with her, almost immediately pushing her hand down your pants. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pushing your fingers deeper into her.

She worked her fingers in and out of you like you did her, the same pace; she wanted to come undone with you. Your lips messily moved together, bumping teeth and breathing heavily into each other's mouths.

“Fuck, ellie...” You breathed out as her fingers pushed deeper into you.

You both were moaning messes, hips thrusting together, sweat dripping down each other's bodies, moans coming together. She was so close, any change in pace or movement could send her off the edge. You were still so sensitive from your first orgasm that you were on the verge as well.

“I wanna cum together...” She moaned out, you hummed out a response.

You thrust your hips roughly, knowing she wouldn’t last too long. You could feel your orgasm pick up, making the knot in your belly tighten. She couldn’t hold any longer, her orgasm ripped through her. She came with a loud moan, her walls contracted against your walls. It didn’t take you long to cum after that, a few more thrusts and the knot in your belly exploded.

You collapsed on top of her, your bodies going limp from the pleasure. You stayed like that a bit, coming down from your earth shattering orgasms. You could hear ellies heart beat, it made you sleepy. She chuckled, causing you to pop your head up.

“What?” You asked, giving her neck tiny kisses.

“I just would never thought we would fuck in a movie theater.” She laughed out.

You chuckled, giving her neck a couple more small kisses before moving off of her. You made yourself comfortable by her side, squeezing between her and the couch.

“Really? That was in my bucket list.” You joked, interlocking your hands. “I just didn’t think I'd be at the top.”

“Hey!” She shouted, looking over at you. “You didn’t get me a chance to top... you know i always top.”

You giggled, looking over at her. At this moment it was only the two of you on the word. Right now you two weren’t chasing after Abby, you weren’t thinking of Joel, there were no nightmares; It was just you two laying there in an abandoned movie theater. She lifted her hand up to caress your face, watching as your mouth contorted into a smile.

“Thank you...” She paused. “I really needed this.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” you said, giving her a kiss once more

You both laid there, exhausted from the journey, the sex, and the 2 hours of sleep you were both running on. You both lazily cuddled up to each other, lulling to sleep by the quietness of the theater.

“We should fuck in art museum next.” She joked.

“ooh, that’d be hot. All the weird art watching us.” You joked back

“Why are we like this??”

(Credits to gif owner)

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #the last of us x reader #tlou ellie #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us pt ii

193 notes · View notes

yoditorian · 4 years ago

Text

close to what

frankie morales/reader

as part of @din-damn-djarin‘s birthday song challenge, i picked dancing under red skies by dermot kennedy. it’s a favourite song of mine, i think it’s beautiful, and i felt like it fit this idea i’ve had swirling around for a little bit. this fic is extremely personal to me but it’s also not pretty. i don’t want to romanticise addiction or use it as a plot device, so PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS.

the support group and hospital drop-off box is drawn directly from my own experience. my inbox and ask box are always open if you need to talk, but i am by no means a professional. if you are struggling with themes of this fic a quick internet search should help you find resources local to you 💛

main masterlist

word count: 3.2k // warnings: addiction, PTSD, nightmares (inc. death mentions), recovery and relapse, therapy mentions, hospital mention, references to past substance abuse, implied reader is in addiction recovery, swears probably, ‘they’ as a pronoun in reference to the reader

Your ringtone is obnoxiously loud in the darkness of your bedroom but at least that means you don’t have to worry about where it is, reaching out blindly towards your nightstand where it blares by your head.

“You’re from the group thing, right? He’s mentioned you a few times.”

You don’t recognise the voice on the other end, maybe you should have checked who it was before answering. You pull the phone away from your ear for a second and glance at the time first, 4:03am. No call at four in the morning can involve good news. But it’s the name on the screen that has you wide awake in a split second: Frankie.

“Is he okay?” You ask, putting whoever it is on speaker while you fumble for the lamp on your bedside table. An old sweater hangs over your bedpost, the logo of a sports team you’ve never heard of cracked and faded beyond recognition, and you tug it over your head in a panic.

“I don’t know, he’s locked himself in the bathroom. I just- he won’t come out. He won’t listen to me, he always listens to me.”

There’s a stifled something and a quiet knock. But no sound from Frankie, just the shaking sigh of the man you’re speaking to. He tells you his name quietly, Santiago, and you remember Frankie mentioning his oldest friend. An image pops up in your mind as you wrestle your jeans on, a fuzzy picture on Frankie’s phone screen, passed to you over the sticky table in a diner, of two men standing knee-deep in a river. Soaked to the bone but grinning ear to ear. Pope’s got him, if no one else has. That’s what he told you.

You stay on the phone with Santiago on the drive over, convincing yourself it's out of concern for him instead of the anxiety churning in your stomach. Frankie still makes no sound in the bathroom, the door stays locked, and you try not to think too hard before you have all the facts.

The Santiago that meets you at Frankie’s front door is a far cry from the man in the photograph. He looks exhausted, on the verge of tears. You’re pretty sure you’re not faring much better.

“Last door,” He breathes, “Down the hall.”

You follow his instructions, finding the only closed door in the hallway and tapping lightly on the painted wood. Listening for a moment, you can just barely hear a shuddering breath. That’s better than nothing, at least it means he’s alive.

“Frankie?” You try, praying that he’ll relent when he realises it’s you. Santiago stands at the other end of the hall, wringing his hands together, phone trapped between his ear and his shoulder as he whispers frantically into it. He barely catches himself from crashing to his knees when the bathroom door clicks softly.

“Can I come in?” You have to ask him. All this has to be on his terms, he has to set the boundaries. Anything less than that is dangerous, you won’t risk him hurting himself.

He says nothing, but the door pulls back just a fraction of an inch and that’s all the confirmation you need. You push the door open enough to slip inside and shut it softly behind you again.

Frankie’s sitting on the floor, his back against the bathtub and legs stretched out in front of him. A quick look over proves he’s not hurt, and you’d breathe a sigh of relief if it weren’t for the little ziplock bag between his knees.

He’s very pointedly not looking at it, or you, instead choosing to glare at a spot on the ceiling. You maneuver yourself to sit opposite him, against the wall with your knees tucked up against your chest.

“Did you take any?” It almost feels wrong to break the silence that’s settled over the two of you.

You wait with bated breath until he gives the slightest shake of his head. He hasn’t touched it. Okay, that’s the worst case scenario eliminated. It’s enough to have your heart rate calm a little, it doesn’t make things better by a long shot, but at least it’s something.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” You ask, picking at a loose thread of your sweatshirt.

His chin falls to his chest and he pulls his knees up towards him and you’re sure this is it. This is where you lose him. But Frankie takes a deep breath. And then another. And then, he musters the courage to look you in the eyes. He doesn’t see pity, not like he thought he would. You don’t look disappointed or upset or angry, the way he was so sure you would be. You’re just waiting, letting him take the reins, he stores the knowledge away. In case he ever needs to dig you out.

“I don’t know what happened,” God, his throat is scratchy, “I just- I had a bad night. And I called Pope, and then-”

He breaks off with a heart-wrenching crack in his voice and you can’t help but reach out to him. Just a hand, stretched across the space between you. He holds onto you like his life depends on it.

“And I remembered I kept a bag on top of the medicine cabinet. And now you’re here.”

It’s to the point, simple, methodical. Like he’s back in the army and giving a flight report to his CO. You wonder if that’s what he needs right now, maybe spelling things out is better for him than asking what it is you can do. It’s easier, sometimes, when someone just tells you what’s going to happen.

“Do you want to take it?” You have to know, for his safety if nothing else. You need him to tell you if there’s going to be a problem, if there’s a risk and he needs more than you. He knows you’re not going to walk out the door and give up on him if he says yes.

It has to be his choice.

Frankie shakes his head again, a grimace on his face like he feels sick at the thought, and you squeeze his fingers between yours. You need him to understand that he hasn’t failed, that he won’t fail. Tripping up and falling behind are part of the process, and you know he knows that. He’s been going to the support group longer than you have. Recovery is messy and far from simple. He’ll get back to where he was, one bad night isn’t going to ruin him.

Your lower back aches from the hardwood floor but you show no sign of discomfort, waiting until Frankie is completely back in his own head before you make any move to suggest where to go from here.

“There’s a drop-off box at the hospital, you fancy a drive?” You keep his hand in yours, terrified that he’ll slip back if you let go.

God, he hates this. He hates that he can’t even look at you for more than a few seconds without his resolve threatening to crack. He hates that you’re not angry at him for any of it, not even a little bit. He deserves anger, he deserves your disappointment.

You were never supposed to see him like this, that much he’s sure of. Or, he convinced himself of at least. He’s been going to group and therapy and he’s kept up his tests and he’s stayed far away from anything that might even tempt him a little. And that was before you even showed up. Standing awkwardly in the doorway with a nervous smile and eyes the size of dinner plates. But he’d been by your side in a flash, asking you to give him a hand setting up chairs, and that was it.

Frankie knows the ins and outs of recovery, you don’t need to tell him that he hasn’t failed. But he can’t help feeling like maybe he never really started in the first place, leaving that one bag out of sight. Life had been busy enough to preoccupy him, between everything else he kind of just forgot about it. He let it gather dust and it should have stayed that way.

And then, it felt like he was falling out of the sky. And he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

Nightmares aren’t an unusual thing for him, or for any former soldier, but the memories they stem from seem to warp into something else entirely when he’s too tired to pay attention. Sometimes he’s alone in the helicopter, sometimes he’s with family, sometimes strangers. It was his team tonight. A vivid memory of a time he almost couldn’t save them.

The crash never happened, he knows that. He’d righted the bird and got his team to safety the way he knew he could. But that knowledge doesn’t stop his mind from wandering, from drowning him in fear when he imagines what might have happened had he not done his job. If they’d crashed in the middle of nowhere. Would any of them have died on impact? Would they have been left stranded, wounded and starving? He’s woken up in a cold sweat too many times, each ending more horrific than the last.

Tonight had been the last straw. And Frankie had found himself in his bathroom, patting along the top of the medicine cabinet, before he could even realise what he was doing.

He’d called Santiago, still blinking back images of his best friend’s bloody and lifeless face, just to hear his voice initially. But he hadn’t managed to explain anything past the sob lodged in his throat, and he’d heard the jingle of car keys before he could tell Pope he didn’t need to drive all the way across town at two o’clock in the morning.

At least nobody had called Will, because that would have meant that Benny would have shown up too. Maybe even Tom would have dragged his ass out of bed. Frankie didn’t need to disappoint all his friends in one night.

Santiago is bound by friendship, best and oldest, he’d never say anything if Frankie didn’t want him to. And you, you’re bound by- well, you’re not really bound by anything. You could get up off of his bathroom floor right now and never look back. Get to your feet, and walk right out of his life. But you won’t.

He knows you won’t because you’re still holding tight to his hand, even though the angle and distance has you leaned forward awkwardly. You’re still looking at him like you believe in him, even though he almost threw everything he’s worked so hard for down the drain. You’re here, despite everything. Despite only knowing him for a couple of months, despite getting a call from a stranger at four in the morning, despite everything he’s done to be undeserving of anything good or kind in his life.

You’re here, still, looking at him like he can do anything. That’s something. That’s enough for him.

“I don’t even want to look at it.” Frankie croaks, and keeps his eyes steady on yours even as his voice wavers. To anybody else, he might sound unsure. But you hear that steely determination underneath it all, the same one that’s convinced you to keep moving any time you’ve faltered.

“That’s okay, I can take it.” You waste no time in snapping the little bag up in your free hand, and stuffing it in your back pocket. A phone rings in the hall, hurriedly answered, and you suddenly remember the other man waiting outside.

Frankie’s still looking at you, dark eyes unsteady and unsure, and you squeeze his fingers to ground him. He comes back to you, slowly, and takes a few shaky breaths.

“Do you want him to come with, or?” You leave the question open. His choice, entirely, the way everything tonight has been. He lost control for a moment and fought, tooth and nail, to get it back. You can’t take any decision about this away from him.

He shakes his head, loosens his grip on your hand, and asks you to give him a minute. It hurts, leaving him alone on his bathroom floor. But he’ll come out, you’re certain of that much.

“Is-” Santiago cuts himself off when you emerge and pull the door just shy of closed behind you, like he’s afraid to even ask the question. Let alone know the answer.

“He’ll be okay. We’re taking his last stash to the drop-off box.”

Santiago’s whole body sags in relief, and you can’t help but lean against the wall for support yourself. The little ziplock bag in your back pocket is a weight you don’t think you’ll ever stop carrying, even after it’s disposed of, but you’re more than happy to bear it when Frankie steps out of the bathroom and Santiago tugs him into a hug that almost breaks his ribs.

It’s easy to forget, when you get that low, that you have people. But they’ll always show up when you call.

You leave them to their moment and shuffle back through to the main room, your car keys and phone left on the kitchen counter where you’d abandoned them. You’re not sure why you bother checking your messages, maybe it’s to keep your hands busy, maybe it’s so you don’t feel like you’re intruding on Frankie and his oldest friend. They speak in hushed tones as your thumbnail scratches back and forth across a crack in your screen protector.

“I’m sorry.” Frankie’s voice is rough, muffled into the other man’s shoulder.

“Don’t be,” Pope squeezes him just a little tighter before pulling back far enough to look him in the eye, “Be sorry you didn’t tell me they were so pretty.”

It should feel odd, the way that he speaks as though the last few hours haven’t even happened. How a simple, harmless joke is all it takes for Frankie’s heart to settle. Pope doesn’t hate him, couldn’t hate him,

“Didn’t I?” A shy, shaky smile settles on his features as Santiago stifles a yawn, “Crash here tonight, you’re not driving anywhere on no sleep.”

Ever the caretaker, even in the wake of his worst moments. It’s a hard habit to break after all they’ve been through. Something tells Frankie, even as Pope relents and walks through to the living room to find a blanket and settle on the couch, he’ll still be awake once they get back.

You’re quiet when he follows you out of his apartment, quiet as your footsteps echo in the stairwell, quiet when you cross the street to your car and unlock the doors. Part of him still worries that you’re disappointed, that you’re angry or upset or that he’s fucked up so bad that you’ve already decided to drop him home without a word and he’ll never hear from you again.

But another look at you out of the corner of his eye as you plug your seatbelt in disproves any other theory he might have. You’re quiet because you know that he doesn’t need you to talk, that he just needs you right here beside him so he can be brave enough to take the next step.

The radio is playing some acoustic, folky sounding song that neither of you have heard before, and it’s comforting to just sit and absorb the peace of the night as you drive. You’re conscious of Frankie’s eyes on you, although you’re sure he’s trying to be subtle about his staring. His seemingly unwavering attention does little to quiet the voice you’ve been hearing in the back of your mind for the last few weeks.

He still can’t quite believe it. That you’d wake up, in the middle of the night, and haul ass across town for him. For him. Something about it somehow makes ribcage feel like it's about to burst and cave in at the same time. But now is definitely not the time to be thinking about the tiny baby crush he may or may not be developing on you.

You don’t miss the way he tenses when you pull into the hospital parking lot, muscles locked so tight that a stiff breeze could shatter him into pieces. He turns to you when you say his name softly, and his eyes are wide with a terror so familiar that your heart breaks in your chest.

“I can’t do it.” He chokes the admission out like it’s poison, and in just four words you can hear every ounce of hatred he has for himself in this moment. He thinks he’s weak, because he can’t even throw a little plastic bag into a hatch, because he can’t even bring himself to move.

“That’s okay. Did you want me to?” You offer, it’s plain as day on his face that he doesn’t know how to ask you.

You’re grateful for the unusual warmth of the night when you step out of the car, comfortable enough not to need a jacket at this time of day. The sky is just starting to turn that odd shade of blue-grey, the barest hints of dawn on the horizon. Another day, just like tomorrow will be. Sometimes, the next day is all you can hope for.

The metal handle is cold when you wrap your hand around it and haul the creaky hatch open, you fish the bag out of your pocket and don’t even pay it a second glance as you set it on the little shelf and let the door snap shut. Gone. But you can still feel it eating away at you, you can still see how it weighs on Frankie’s shoulders when you shuffle across the concrete and climb back into the car.

He says he’s not hungry when you ask, and you don’t push it. He’ll eat when he’s ready. He’ll live when he’s ready. You don’t mind, you’ve got a better idea anyway.

“Where are we going?” He asks when he realises you’re heading completely the opposite way from his apartment building. You shoot him a smile, turning your eyes back to the road before you can read too far into the look in his eyes.

The beach is dead, just like you thought it would be, and you’re grateful as you shut off the engine.

“We are gonna throw rocks in the sea.” You say and part of him wonders if you’ve always known exactly what he needs.

If someone had told Frankie, twenty four hours ago, that he’d be skipping pebbles on the sea with you at sunrise, he would have laughed. But here he is, flecks of the rising sun on the sea reflecting on your face, and you’re smiling at him like that as a breeze ruffles his hair. Maybe this is all he needs to find the courage to stare right down the barrel of his faults. He doesn’t know how you do it, maybe you can do it together.

You reach over and take his hand when you spot the lone tear tracking its way down his cheek.

“You’ll be alright. I promise.” You smile just as the sun finally breaks fully over the horizon, sky streaked with orange and pink.

“Yeah, I know.” Frankie can’t help but smile back.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@brothersdrxke @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean

#this is the most personal thing i've ever written i am Afraid #yikes okay #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #liz does words #sfw

144 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 4 years ago

Text

This is the second piece out of seven written for the one year anniversary collaboration event for the @konoblog-simps discord. I encourage everyone to check out the masterlist for today's prompt and support the other creators. Some content is not suitable for minors so please pay attention to the warnings.

Prompt: Angst (Armin Arlert x GN!Reader)

Word count: 1.7K Warnings: None?

Armin hadn’t seemed like much when you first met him during cadet training, at least not to most people. He was smaller and scrawnier than all the other aspiring soldiers, falling dangerously behind during endurance tests and getting overpowered by everyone in the one on one sparring sessions. It was no secret that people questioned his decision to keep pushing himself through, but you saw the potential in him that others failed to.

It was the subtle things you noticed at first. When everyone else complained about the brutal conditions of the training, threatening half-heartedly about giving up, Armin never seemed to waver. Even when he seemed like he might pass out from exhaustion at any moment, sweat pouring down his face and breath coming in labored pants, his eyes remained sharp and determined. Even when he’d been knocked roughly to the ground a hundred times, there was never even a hint that he might be thinking of giving up or running away. It was a little scary actually, but also admirable. Somehow, watching him struggle and endure gave you the strength to carry on as well.

“I… think I have a crush on you.”

You wished for the ground to swallow you up as soon as the confession slipped past your lips. It was so embarrassing to admit it out loud, but after joining the scouting regiment you knew that time was no longer a luxury for you. Nobody was guaranteed a tomorrow once you accepted a position in the scouts, so keeping your feelings inside seemed like a waste. All humiliation from the situation was worth it anyway when you saw the blush creep into Armin’s cheeks.

“Uh…oh.” His response wasn’t exactly awe inspiring, but at least you’d gotten it off your chest. For a moment you wondered if he was even going to respond. Surely he respected you enough to give you an answer either way instead of ignoring the situation completely. He’d never run away from anything before. Thankfully, he didn’t disappoint, and after a pause asks you to sit with him at dinner that night.

The concept of dating in the survey corps didn’t really exist. It was hard enough to try and find a moment just to be by yourself let alone create any type of romantic situation that could be considered a date. It was nice to have that feeling of companionship though. Armin always made sure to spend time with you each day, laughing at your jokes and slowly opening up enough to tell you about the world he imagined was waiting out beyond the walls.

Perhaps there were beautiful landscapes like the ones Armin described to you during meals when he held your hand in his, blue eyes shining with wonder and excitement, but what you encountered during scouting expeditions was the complete opposite of the pictures he’d painted inside your mind. The higher ups had explained exactly what to expect before your first mission, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the actual size of the titans and the amount of death and carnage you’d been forced to witness. Each time you and Armin managed to come out alive seemed like a miracle.

“How much longer do you think we can outrun death before it finally catches one of us?” You ask him sadly. The thought of losing him was unbearable to you, but somehow he still held that spark of resolve.

“We aren’t just outrunning it,” He assures you, pulling you into his arms and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We’re outsmarting it. The scouts are creating new advantages all the time. Commander Erwin is always coming up with new strategies, and I really think the new thunder spears will make a huge difference for us.”

“But there’s so much we still don’t know,” you remind him. The mysteries of the titans had continued to unfold during your time in the scouts, revealing that there were people who could actually control the monsters from the inside, and that some of them had been traitors the entire time. It was hard sometimes to hold onto the hope that things could get better.

“I can’t make any promises about the future,” Armin admits, his voice calm and soothing despite what he was saying. “But I do know that our chances of seeing the wonders of the world are higher if we keep fighting than if we give up.”

It was just like him to say something like that, and it brought you comfort knowing that he was still the same brave boy you knew from back in the cadet corps, before everything had gotten so horribly confusing. What you hadn’t realized though, was that those traits of his that you admired so much, should’ve been the ones you’d feared.

Your heart had gone cold inside your chest when you heard that he’d tried to sacrifice himself during what everyone was calling the Battle of Shiganshina. However, calling it a battle was laughable. It had been more like a slaughter. Almost the entire scouting regiment had been completely wiped out, including Commander Erwin. You had no idea how you’d even made it out alive, and the only reason you still had Armin was due to the merciful intervention of Captain Levi and the precious titan serum that had been entrusted to him.

Armin wasn’t the same for a while after everything that had happened, and you couldn’t blame him. People were not shy about criticizing him for getting a second chance at life when so many others had died, including the brilliant commander who’d secured so many victories for humanity in the past. He kept to himself a lot, looking miserable at best. As the scouts pushed forward and began to make plans for what would come next, you thought things would get better, but Armin remained distant. He avoided you at meal times and always had an excuse not to be in the same room as you. It hurt you to see him act this way, so you bided your time until you found the chance to confront him.

“I thought it was obvious that we can’t be together anymore,” his voice was dead as if pushing you away didn’t have an effect on him at all.

“What?” tears had already sprung into your eyes, “That makes no sense at all, Armin. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve inherited the colossal titan,” he explains after a sigh. “My life has an expiration date now. Thirteen years… and then I’ll die.” Of course that had been a hard tidbit of information to swallow at first, and your heart still panged with sadness when you thought about it.

“That means we should make the most of the time we still have together, doesn’t it?” You ask weakly. “I know having the colossal titan is a heavy burden to bear, but I’m more than willing to stay by your side and help lighten the load.”

Something in Armin suddenly snaps and he gets a wild look on his face as tears spring into his eyes. “You don’t understand!” His voice was louder now and you flinch away as he points both his hands at himself frantically. “It should be Commander Erwin standing here right now! Not me! It’s not just the burden of carrying the colossal titan. I also have to try and prove that my life was worth saving over his! Somehow, I have to live up to the standards and expectations he left behind!”

“Armin…” You weren’t sure what to say. You’d never seen him look so distressed and unhinged. “Don’t listen to what everyone else has been saying. They weren’t there. They don’t know…”

“What they’re saying is right!” Armin insists, dragging a hand over his face as his thoughts continued to spiral into turmoil. “We just found out that there’s humanity outside the walls… whole nations that want to destroy us! And the greatest commander we’ve ever known is dead…”

“You’re just as great as him,” you pause for a moment before looking down in embarrassment. “That’s why I fell in love with you.”

“And that’s why I have to let you go,” the comment comes out sounding strangled and you look back up at him wearily.

“I don’t understand,” you admit, his rejection hitting you hard and sending waves of sadness and embarrassment through you.

“I heard someone say that Erwin was only such a great leader because he was able to turn himself into a devil, able to make unbelievable sacrifices for the good of the people as a whole,” Armin explains, his voice back to the flat emotionless tone from before. “If I ever hope to be even a fraction of the man he was, I’ll have to give up my humanity too. I can’t make decisions based on who I care about or what my own personal dreams are for the future. I just… can’t be with you.”

You stare at him in disbelief for a moment, letting it all sink in. That spark you’d always seen in his eyes was still there, but darker somehow. Standing before you was the same brave and determined boy you’d met all those years ago, just a different version. He’d never run away from anything in his life, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to run away from the duties that had been placed upon him now. It was just painful knowing the things you loved most about Armin, were the exact traits that ended up breaking your heart.

“I see,” you swallow back your sadness and force a smile. “Well, I know that if victory is possible for us on this little island, it’ll be you who leads us there.”

“Thank you,” Armin nods his head solemnly. “I hope you’re right.”

As he turns and walks away, you try to console yourself as best you can. In truth, Armin’s selflessness only made you love and respect him all the more. And even if he talked about throwing away his humanity, you knew there was no way he’d ever truly harden his heart to the people he cared about. Perhaps if you both made it out of this alive, you’d be able to help him find himself again, and explore all the beautiful places he’d always dreamed of seeing.

#Armin Arlert x Reader #snk x reader #aot x reader #Armin Arlert #snk #aot #discord collab #Cindy's Writing

59 notes · View notes

toyboy-molloy · 4 years ago

Text

reddie + practice date

These were the best nights, when it was just the two of them, Richie and Eddie, snuggled together under a large blanket watching their favourite childhood movies together. It was rare they got to do this anymore, what with Richie being busy with his comedy and Eddie meeting with lawyers finalising his divorce; they made a pact to always set aside at least one day for each other, like the old days. Best of friends.

They were halfway through The Princess Bride when Eddie began to get rather fidgety, occasionally glancing up at his friend. Richie was engrossed in the classic, shoving popcorn into his mouth every now and again. After a little while, Eddie cleared his throat nonchalantly.

“Hey, Rich?” Almost instantly, Richie sat forward and paused the movie, focusing his full attention onto Eddie. The other man was sidetracked by the action, frowning in confusion, “what did you do that for?”

"Eds, I’ve known you for years. I know you wouldn’t interrupt this unless it was something legit,” he smiled at the look on Eddie’s face when he mentioned his hated childhood nickname. He ruffled his hair playfully, “remember when we were fifteen and I said Westley was hot and you threatened to cut my dick off?”

"Oh, yeah,” Eddie mumbled, flushing slightly at the memory; he’d neglected to mention it had more to do with jealousy than anything else. Nevertheless, he continued somewhat nervously, “I just wondered, do you think it’s too soon for me to start...dating again?”

Richie had been dreading this conversation. Of course Eddie would want to start dating the second he was out and proud and free of his ex-wife. He wanted to say ‘no’, tell Eddie that he was wasting his time and he’d never fin anyone worthy of him, but even he knew that was selfish. Eddie was his oldest and dearest friend, he deserved the truth.

“that’s not my say, dude. Only you can say when you’re ready.”

“I think I’m ready,” Eddie contemplated, chewing his bottom lip. Richie had to look away, he was just too damn cute, “the thing is, I’ve never dated a guy before.”

“You’ll be fine,” Richie smiled tightly, trying not imagine Eddie on a date with some other man. He shook his head, “I can’t imagine there’s anyone out there who wouldn’t want to date you.”

Eddie looked up at him, his big eyes wide and hopeful, “would you go on a date with me?” Richie stared down at him in shock, his mouth agape. Before he could open his mouth, however, Eddie was speaking again, practically begging his stunned friend, “please, just so I know what to expect. I haven’t been on a date in years. I don’t know what I’m doing. Please, Richie.”

Jesus, he was so fucked. Richie wasn’t sure his heart could handle helping Eddie prepare to woo other men. But he couldn’t say no to him. Rolling his eyes, he shrugged, “sure, I’ll bro date you. I’ll sweep you off your feet with bromance, man.”

“Really?” At Richie’s affirming nod, Eddie flung himself at him, wrapping his arms around his neck, “thank you, Richie. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he pulled away, smiling, “you don’t have to go overboard, though.”

“No, no, you want a run through of what a real date will be like, you’re getting one,” if this was his only chance, Richie wasn’t about to ruin it. He held his hand out and Eddie took it, the two of them shaking on their agreement, “never let it be said Richie Tozier doesn’t know know how to treat a guy. I’m gonna spoil you like any dude worthy of you should.”

“Wow, I’m already a little wooed,” Eddie chuckled and settled back into his seat to resume the movie, cuddling up to Richie. Oh I haven’t started yet, Richie thought with a smirk as he pressed play.

They set a date for the weekend. Eddie had expected to be nervous but as the week drew to a close, he was more excited than anything. Richie told him he’d booked a fancy-ish restaurant and to wear ‘something pretty’. He rolled his eyes at the text but he couldn’t help but smile as he found his favourite suit - the smart blue ensemble he’d worn to Ben and Bev’s wedding reception (Richie had made one or two drunken comments about how good he’d looked that night).

Saturday night came quicker than he’d expected and Eddie found himself pacing frantically in front of his mirror, checking his watch. Richie had gone out hours ago, refusing to tell him where he was going only that he expected Eddie to be ready when he got back. He almost sprinted to the front door when he heard the doorbell chime. Eddie skidded to a halt and tugged on his jacket, taking a deep breath as he opened the door. He greeted by the largest bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen.

“Eddie Spaghetti,” a voice said from behind the flowers, “special delivery.”

“I said not to go overboard,” Eddie took the flowers, unable to stop smiling as he thought about Richie purchasing them, just to make him smile, “but thank you, they’re gorgeous.”

“Don’t get used to it. Most guys won’t make the effort,” Richie adjusted his glasses nervously, watching as Eddie placed the flowers on the kitchen table. And he was wearing the suit that had nearly made him confess everything all those months ago. He didn’t think he’d be lucky enough to get away with it again. He’d been so distracted by staring at Eddie he hadn’t noticed the other man staring at him intently. When Eddie didn’t say anything for a moment or two, Richie glanced down at his own floral-patterned red suit self-consciously, “what?”

Eddie shook his head, blushing, “nothing, sorry, you look amazing.”

Richie blushed, too, lost for words. He offered his arm to Eddie and led him outside towards the car that was waiting for them. Eddie recognised the driver as Steve, Richie manager, who’d clearly been bribed into doing Richie this favour. He mumbled a greeting and set off for the restaurant. Their conversation was casual and pleasant and Eddie found himself relaxing, enjoying himself. By the time they reached their destination, Eddie was holding Richie’s hand like they’d been doing it for years.

“A risk analyst?” Richie said enthusiastically, leaning over to swipe another fry from Eddie’s plate, “that sounds so interesting. What does that involve?”

Eddie smiled, “nice try but I’ve been informed my job’s rather boring. I’m more keen to hear about you being a comedian. I just can’t picture it.”

“Eds, baby, you wound me,” Richie playfully clutched at his heart, pouring himself another glass of wine as Eddie chuckled cutely. He didn’t expect to be enjoying himself as much as he was. He didn’t want the night to end, “if you must know, I’m very famous and hilarious. Not to mention modest.”

“I’ll have to look out for your stuff,” Eddie said with a smirk; he was starting to have fun with their little game. Something in the back of his mind was telling him it wasn’t going to be like this with anyone else but he ignored it. Instead, he watched Richie peruse the dessert menu, “if I can remember your name.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure you remember my name,” he said with a wink, snapping the menu shut. Eddie swallowed, taking an urgent sip of his wine. Richie seemed oblivious to his predicament, offering him the dessert menu, “I’m gonna get the chocolate cake.”

Eddie nodded, opting for the banana split. They always shared desserts anyway. The conversation turned casual again as they pretended to ask about each other’s family, hobbies and interests. Eddie ‘learned’ that Richie liked doing impressions and voices, even if he wasn’t that good at them. Their desserts arrived and they naturally halved portions, sharing without asking.

“Okay, real talk,” Richie said, waving a forkful of chocolate cake around as he spoke, “if this was a legit date-date, like not practice or anything, would you let me smash?”

Eddie paused, his own chocolate cake sitting forgotten at the end of his own spoon, “what?”

“I’m just saying, what are my chances here?” Richie said with a shrug, leaning back in his chair confidently. Eddie folded his arms, preparing to lie through his teeth.

“Well, you’ll have to work a little harder than this,” he gestured at their table, “I’m not easy,” he watched as a smile spread across Richie’s face. He waited until Richie was tucking into his dessert again before deciding to torture him a little bit, “but you’re cute, I’ll give you that.”

“You think I’m cute?”

Eddie gave a minute shrug, nonchalantly scooping a helping of banana split onto his spoon before popping it into his mouth, “I wouldn’t kick you out of bed.”

The sight of Richie’s dumbstruck gaping expression was incredibly satisfying and Eddie was going to carry it with him forever.

The walk home was nice. The night air was light and gentle but Eddie was too busy concentrating on how big Richie’s hand felt in his. He’d been the perfect date, offering him his coat as they began their walk back to the flat. They’d been walking in silence for a little while, just enjoying each other’s company. But Richie was never one for being quiet for too long.

“so, how did I do?”

“Very well,” Eddie said honestly, squeezing Richie’s hand in reassurance, “I had a great time. I don’t remember the last time I went out and just had fun. Thank you,” he looked up at Richie, smiling warmly, “I really needed this.”

He nodded once, turning away. They were almost home when Richie spoke again, “did you wish I was anyone else?”

“No,” Eddie said honestly, smiling almost sadly, “I don’t think I’d have a good time with anyone else. Which was kind of the whole point really,” they reached their apartment building and Eddie followed Richie to their front door. He was deep in thought, his fears coming back as they reached their home, “it will be different with someone else. I just hope it’s...good different.”

“Yep,” was all Richie said. He immediately headed for the fridge, grabbing the bottle of wine and downing several gulps. Eddie just stood in the doorway, ringing his hands nervously. He wanted to tell Richie he didn’t want anyone else, that everything he’d ever wanted was standing right in front of him trying to drink himself to death. Richie suddenly span around, a desperate look on his face, “hey, you know what would be funny?”

Eddie blinked, confused at the sudden change in Richie’s attitude, “what?”

“If you, like, never meet anyone for real and we keep doing this? Just going out on dates all casual and shit. Wouldn’t that be nuts?”

“What, nothing changes?” Eddie questioned incredulously, moving towards Richie. The other man nodded frantically, replacing the wine bottle on the kitchen side. Eddie folded his arms, “we just keep going on these ‘bro dates’?”

“I’d love that,” thankfully Richie was slightly drunk and Eddie always knew when he was lying if he’d had a drink. He raised an eyebrow, smiling at the cute flush in Richie’s cheeks, “for totally non-selfish reasons, I’d love that.”

Eddie nodded, stepping that little bit closer, “I’d change one thing, though.”

“Yeah, like, like what?”

And Eddie kissed him. Richie, shocked as he was, kissed back with all the enthusiasm of a drunk guy reciprocating his feelings, his hands fumbling to hold Eddie close. The separated when it became apparent that Richie was crying.

“S-sorry,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his suit. Eddie batted his hands away, gently wiping Richie’s eyes himself...which just made him cry even more, “I just- I legit thought you...you wanted someone better.”

“I think I’d die single if that was the case,” Eddie smiled, his own tears beginning to escape. He pulled Richie into a hug, leaning up to kiss his forehead, “I love you.”

Richie mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘I love you too’ into his shirt. They stayed there in the kitchen, holding each other and swaying slightly as Eddie hummed a calming tune. They were going to be okay.

#I didn't mean for this to get so emotional. but richie cries when it gets A Lot #richie x eddie #reddie #eddie x richie #reddie fanfic #my writing

106 notes · View notes

ofmythsandmadness · 4 years ago

Text

pretty eyes.

you love diego hargreeves pretty eyes, sober and drunk off your rocker. only, when its the latter, it’s a little harder to hold back your eager compliments.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

WARNINGS & DETAILS: gender!neutral reader. mention of alcohol & drinking, some fighting later on in the chapter (it’ll make sense when it comes), idiots being idiots, mutual pining, a tad bit of angst. WORD COUNT: 6.5k NOTES: at the end (read please).

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“DO YOU KNOW WHY THE SKY’S BLUE?”

Diego didn’t look back, but from the sounds of tiny pants and dull clunks of shoes hitting the ground, he knew enough to paint a picture. You, struggling to rid yourself of the coat he forced you to put on, dropping the heels you claimed you hated so vehemently, all the while probably grinning from ear to ear like he imagined little kids looked on Christmas Day. He knew you’d be waiting for his answer, just as you always did, expecting something greater than he could give you in his own flustered state.

Sometimes you were predictable. But he liked that about you.

“I don’t know. Why?”

“No, silly! I’m asking you!”

“Oh.” His tongue danced across his bottom lip, wetting the chapped skin before responding. “I dunno. Sorry.”

Only a sparkling laugh and a thump answered him. He whirled around to see you flat on your butt on the ground, staring up at him with drooping doe eyes. It would be an irresistibly pretty sight, if he knew it wasn’t from extreme inebriation and you were completely off your rocker at the moment.

Still, pretty.

“Help me up?” You laughed, waving your hands aimlessly towards him. “Puh-lease?”

Diego grimaced slightly but moved anyways. He grabbed at your hands (clammy, another symptom of your heavy drinking choices) and yanked you towards him. Only he overestimated you and greatly underestimated his own strength it seemed -- instead of lifting to your feet like any normal person, you practically flew towards him, landing just under his chin and flopping against his chest.

And Diego froze.

Normally he would have pulled away and shrugged it off as a mistake. Neither of you would mention it again and would move on with your lives, forgetting how close your bodies had been and the way your gaze was intoxicating upon itself. He had rules for those things; never getting too close to a friend who made his heart beat in a rather unfriendly way was one of them.

But as you looked up at him, still smiling dopily and eyes almost crossed, he couldn’t remember a single thing about rules or precautions or anything of the sort. All that was on Diego’s mind, was you.

Your smile softened a tad, painted lips closing over your teeth and only hinting at the dimples he had stared at many-a-time before. Up close, he could see flecks of black under your eyes, staining flushed skin with ebony freckles that no one could believe was natural. He didn’t know the word for it, but guessed it was from you rubbing at your eyes and forgetting you had painted them hours before. Despite it, you still looked absolutely radiant.

“You have really pretty eyes.”

Diego blinked, startled by your giggled statement. “W-what?”

“Sooo pretty,” you gushed. One of your hands left his chest -- he hadn’t even realised they had been pressed there, but he suddenly missed the warm sensation -- and caressed his cheek. He shuddered at the touch. “Maybe the pre...prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen!”

If merely standing near you was heart-attack inducing, Diego was certain that all this was going to explode the vessel. Any second at that point, it would just burst and coat your grinning face with its guts--

-- he shook his head, ridding himself of both that image and the foolish thoughts flooding around it. You were drunk. Everyone said and did stupid stuff when they were drunk. Right? Like the time he lost a fight with a lamp post -- he wouldn’t do that sober, but alcohol made everyone a fool. You just chose compliments over actions, maybe.

The saying ‘drunk words, sober thoughts’ lingered in his mind for half a second, but he pushed it away. That only worked in late night television or shitty rom-coms, not reality. Not with them.

“You should get to bed,” Diego said gruffly, pulling away from your fingers. He didn’t miss the flash of disappointment on your face, but tried to push it away for his own emotions’ sake. “You’re gonna want to, ‘fore all this hits.”

“You should smile more.”

Diego froze. He didn’t turn back to her that time, knowing it would only hurt him more, but he couldn’t bring himself to move another inch.

“Your eyes are fu...cking beautiful, but your smile?” Clapping echoed paces behind him; his jaw clenched with every smack. “Diego, you’re so pretty!”

He reached behind him blindly, scrambling and feeling stupid before finally launching onto you. Still avoiding your charming smile, he pulled you along, leading you out and into your bedroom. “I’ll be back to get you some Advil. Sit down.”

“I wish you’d smile more,” you said, completely ignoring every word he said. You fell down to your bed with a plop. “It lights up those pretty pretty, pretty eyes so much...so fucking pretty, Diego! I can’t even think of any other words, that’s how be-yew-tiful you are.”

“Okay, I--”

“-- and you always look so grumpy. It’s so funny!”

Diego should have been long gone, at that point. For his own sake and for yours, because you would hate that you rambled on so much, and he was going to pay for the emotional turmoil you were putting him through. But he couldn’t. He simply stood, still and awkward in your bedroom doorway, watching as you tried to twist your face to look like his own.

It didn’t work at all. Your lips fought angrily to smile again, and your eyelids just drooped, so far you looked stoned, or maybe like a zombie ready to bite. But even if you looked beyond ridiculous, his mind still screamed at how adorable it was, and despite himself, Diego smiled.

“See! See, there - there it is!” You pointed frantically at his own face, like he didn’t know it was there. “God, I wish I had a mirror to show you how pretty you are! Lil...lil sunshine boy!”

Okay, ‘sunshine boy’ was new. It took a little bit of the piss out of everything, and he was able to grumble and walk away finally from your singing self. Calls of his name paired with nonsensical titles followed. Diego tried his best to ignore them, but he knew the coos would haunt him later. Even as he searched for a glass, the sounds bounced through his head like injured bats in a cave; no way out and too blind to escape, forced to flit around endlessly until someone ended their suffering.

But Diego, unfortunately, did not know how to do that. So he simply bore the weight of your compliments knowing that they were nothing but sounds and syllables made up by a confused mind, trying to push through the night with as little baggage as possible.

As he walked back to your room, he sighed. This wasn’t how he planned things to go. It had been a good night -- sure, he might not have had as much fun as you looked like you were having, dancing and drinking and laughing, but at least he was with you. And he liked that, and the lax nature you took on when you drank, making him feel less pressure about constantly being the best version of himself. He hadn’t felt like he needed to put on a show, he was just Diego, for better or for worse. And somehow, you didn’t mind that.

He only wished that he could have more than that and all the time.

“Okay,” he said, clearing his throat after the word came out garbled. “Uh - got you this, you’re gonna want to drink it and take these now. Okay? And I’m putting these here for tomorrow morning, so you can take that as soon as you’re up. You got that?”

Your head bobbed up and down excitedly, but he knew you didn’t take in a word he said. So as you swallowed the tablets and gulped down the water, he scribbled out a note to remind you of what definitely went right over your head.

Diego paused, pen slightly trembling in his hand, before jotting down two more sentences. Thanks for last night. Had a good time being with you, as always. He hesitated, hovering over the slip of paper before cursing and scribbling out the lines with added violence. He tried again, being a little bit more poetic (which wasn’t much, but words really were not his thing) only to be disappointed again, pushing down on the pen so hard he was sure it would burst. Once he was sure nothing but scribbles could be made of the mess, he put the note under the Advil bottle and stepped away.

“You wanna change out of that?” He asked, gesturing to your clothes. “Doubt that’s comfortable.”

“Nah,” you drawled. You smiled up at him and even dared to wink (it was more of a sloppy, half-assed blink, but it still made his head swim). “I’m just comfortable. Do...you…’re you comfortable?”

Diego chose not to answer that. He pushed you back gently, deciding not to fight with you on changing and instead just going with sleep. You didn’t fight him much. If anything you leaned into it, holding onto his hands for seconds longer than you should and mumbling sweet nonsense up at him.

“You know,” you sang, “you know what, Di...Diego?”

He didn’t pause. “What?”

“I would do anything...and everything...in order to make you smile forever. You know? Anything.”

Those were the words that weighed heaviest on Diego’s conscience as he drove back to his place. It was as though they had erased everything else, anything that had happened that day or any time before and just left that in its place. He didn’t know why, but they stuck, and as he wove through the dimly lit streets, your voice floated about like a bodiless apparition, set to destroy his mind and drive him mad.

Diego had had his heart broken several times before. It happened almost easily in his childhood, normally by the hands of his vindictive father. He had learned how to patch it up, sew up the cracks and try to make it so it wouldn’t happen again, and eventually he got better at that. But it shattered again when Ben died, and he realised that they were just kids, forced to play heroes in a horrifically gruesome world they didn’t belong in. That took a while to mend, but he did, until he screwed up at the police academy and Patch left him too. After that he had let the fragments just sit in piles in his chest, digging at his ribs and leaving him winded after long nights in the cold darkness. He hadn’t cared; he thought that was what was expected of him. Nothing but a broken heart to hold him when the nightmares got too bad.

But when you came along, he didn’t have to stitch himself back together. You did it for him. Somehow without him noticing you had snuck into his chest and unravelled the poor stitchwork and blotted out the stains left that he hadn’t bothered to clean up. Over time, you had managed to make it almost brand new again, and it was a whole new experience of smiling and watching as you failed to finish your joke again, only because you were already laughing too hard. Of getting wasted on Wednesday’s when your job sucked more and dancing down the streets up to your apartment, uncaring of those who watched. Of you chiding him for the cuts and bruises collected from his vigilante expeditions, but always being there to wash them out and make a fresh pot of tea. Of you, merely existing, and allowing him to bask in your sunshine a while longer.

But hearing those soft words leave your drunken lips, spilling out like tar from someone so angelic, hurt. Diego didn’t think that was possible with you.

He sighed, turning down the street towards the gym. It would be a sleepless night again.

YOU WOKE UP THE NEXT MORNING CONFUSED AND ACHING.

Not as much as you normally would be, which was a nice change of pace -- you assumed you had enough common sense to take premature headache meds, knowing how bad the hangover got for them. But your drunken self did not have the thought of changing out of your stiff, uncomfortable going-out clothes, instead draping yourself across the mattress smelling like the shitty bar you had careened in and leaving every part of your body pissed off. Sweaty fabric clung to your skin, leaving you feeling soggy and misworn and eagerly wishing you could have made better choices earlier.

You groaned and slipped out of the comforter, already missing its heavy warmth. Slowly you staggered over to your desk where you must have left the Advil for that morning. “Thank you, past me,” you sighed, twisting open the cap with a grimace.

A paper caught your eye, small amongst the stacks of work files you had yet to comb through. Downing one pill, you grabbed it, taking in the scribbled letters through tired, squinting eyes.

Leaving this for you because you’re too drunk to remember what I said. Take these and drink water before you die of a hangover. I’d hate to find your body that way. Also left your things on your kitchen counter, they’re not stolen. Also left your burrito in your microwave -- you insisted on buying one last night, so don’t forget about it. Take care.

Underneath were two lines of thick black scribbles, covering up whatever was written under that and leaving only a scrawled ‘Diego’ as your final clue. But, despite whatever mystery the pen covered up, you smiled and pinned the note to your bulletin board.

“Thanks, bud,” you grinned, speaking like he was there to hear. “Hope I wasn’t too annoying last night.”

You went about your morning with a smile despite the pounding pulverising your muscles, and enjoying the lazy Sunday hours spent cleaning up. You even spoiled yourself with a long shower, eating up your hot water minutes with joy, knowing you’d hate yourself for it two weeks later. After an hour of cleaning up, washing your face free of the makeup smudged across your cheeks and devouring that burrito left for you, you finally felt refreshed and better about things.

You glanced up at the time. Diego would be up, probably manning the desk for Al as he did most Sunday’s (the facet of his job he hated most). But, at least that meant he would be available to take your call. You missed him, even after seeing him just the night before, and selfishly craved the distraction of his low rasp. Maybe you could even make him laugh, cheer him up during his boring shift.

But five minutes later, you were left disappointed when none of the three calls went through. You tried not to think too hard on it -- he was a busy guy, and was either working or doing his other line of work, and ignoring your call meant nothing. Course, it probably didn’t look good for a boxing gym, but...you’d settle.

You would just call back later. He would definitely be available to talk then.

IT HAD BEEN A WEEK SINCE YOU LAST TALKED TO DIEGO, which was the longest either of you had gone without even speaking to one another in the history of your friendship.

On its own, the fact wasn’t so troubling. You were both working adults who had their own lives to sort through, jobs and bills and other friends that you didn’t like half as much as each other, grocery shopping and patrolling the streets alike, filling up both schedules easily. But the two of you were closer than that, and definitely more than just friends that saw each other every other week. You didn’t care about those friends like you cared about Diego.

And it hurt, that he was going to such lengths to avoid you.

Every time you stopped by his gym, Diego was gone. Al simply shrugged off your questions with a non-committal ‘I don’t keep track of the shithead’ and even when you went to knock on his door to check if he was lying, you got nothing. No regulars knew either, which was strange; he always liked to spend his afternoons training with a couple people, sometimes you if you showed up at the right time. You considered doing just that and waiting for him to show -- but even after hours of sparring, the man was nowhere to be seen.

You had tried everything, to the point where Al was annoyed and you felt like you were losing your mind. Surely Diego hadn’t just disappeared off the face of the earth. That didn’t seem right or possible and you knew you hadn’t made him up, because you had the pictures and notes to prove it. You could see his face, disgruntled and sometimes smiling in the photos you had snapped of him -- so why couldn’t you find it anywhere else?

With all options exhausted, you gave up for a few days, allowing yourself the chance to catch your breath. However, with that came the exhaustive process of trying to figure out why on earth Diego was avoiding you. And unfortunately, all that linked back to your last night spent together, and the bitter realisation that you must have fucked up the night somehow and left him not wanting to see you again.

And that thought broke you.

Thursday night was spent crying alone on your couch, trying to push past the depressing thoughts and failing miserably. You couldn’t remember half of what you did that night, but you knew he hadn’t been drinking as much as you, and alcohol always rendered you a ranting, rambling fool that he must have had to deal with. He had got you home, but for what? And what if it was all in that stupid note he had left you, scribbling out the real reason he was leaving you high and dry?

You threw the note out that night, staring down at it in the trash with tears pooling in your eyes. If only you could know why.

The issue was, Diego was more than just a friend to you. Sure your relationship had been built on totally platonic foundations, but it soon blossomed into so much more. He was a companion, your partner, the man who made you feel comfortable enough to wheeze into laughter-induced tears with, or just sob against his shoulder without feeling judged. He was the guy who brought you fast food when you forgot about dinner when work ran late, and the one who let you sleep over when you didn’t want to be alone. He made you smile by just being there -- like, you would open your door (or window, usually) and just grin like an idiot at the mere sight of his face. He was just Diego, but that meant more to you than you had ever been able to say.

Maybe, hell, you loved him. Was that so bad? It hadn’t been intentional to fall -- one day you had just been eating pizza on your countertop way too late in the night, and you looked over and realised your heart had only ever fluttered so violently for him. That he was the guy you could imagine spending the rest of your days with and never getting bored. Of course, you didn’t act on it, knowing that it was a platonic relationship and admitting such would destroy it completely -- but that didn’t mean your official break-up didn’t hurt any less.

You skipped work Friday, something you never did.

When your coworkers called, you wrote it off as illness related, while still drowning in the sorrow of being left high and dry.

Friends hit you up to make some ‘end of the week’ plans, but you ignored them.

You fell asleep at nine that night -- the earliest you had in aeons.

You stayed in bed for most of Saturday, staring at the ceiling or the photos pinned to your walls of the two of you, wondering if this was all just a weird dream you were going to wake up from.

Six hours later, you hadn’t woken up from your dream, but you had made up your mind.

One hour after that, at almost ten o’clock at night, you were rolling up to that same boxing gym you had haunted for that week, dressed in dark activewear and parked a ways away from the actual space. Steely-eyed and with your jaw clenched, you marched out the vehicle and into the building, knowing full well what you were going to find. You had a plan, and whatever it took, you were going to put it into motion.

Maybe it wasn’t the greatest plan, and maybe you had only just come up with it, with barely any time to consider it’s workability and whether or not you were just throwing words together, but nevertheless, you persisted.

You were going to get Diego back.

“DIEGO FUCKING HARGREEVES,”

The man, back turned away, stiffened and immediately went to move,

“run and I will end you, boy,” you growled, stomping towards him with force; he could practically feel each stomp echoing in his chest, cracking him down to the size of a pea. Somehow, he couldn’t move, frozen in place by your command. “Okay?!”

“H-hey, I--”

“--why the hell have you been avoiding me?!”

His eyes were wide and panicked and frantically, he searched all around for a way out. Unfortunately, your body in front of him blocked his only exit, leaving him stammering for answers you knew he didn’t easily have. “Look, I--”

“--I have been worried and scared and sad and out of my mind this entire week,” you snapped, jabbing a finger into his tank top, pushing him back in his steps. Your anger dug deep into him, thorns grabbing onto every bit of vulnerable flesh -- and the worst part was, you were absolutely right. “You know that? I have called everywhere I could -- I even called the police, wondering if you were in custody and I just missed that news drop. But no, you were just gone, avoiding me for who knows what reason!”

“I didn’t--”

“--what did I do, Diego? What happened, what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing! You’ve done nothing.”

“Then why won’t you even look me in the eyes?” you hissed back, staring up at him in hopes he would catch your gaze. But he didn’t; his eyes still looked far away from yours, searching for something to give him a way out with. “You won’t even look at me, that’s how pissed off you are at me.”

“That’s not true.”

“I get if I did something wrong, but you can’t just pull away from me like that -- this friendship isn’t built on shit like that. I can’t cope with this void left by you deciding you don’t like me anymore!”

“That’s not what happened,” he insisted, his own voice raising in volume. “I swear!”

“Then what, Diego? What possible reason could you have that isn’t related to me doing something wrong? Because that’s all the evidence I got out of this and unlike you, I have zero detective skills so I’m working on one freakin’ theory here!”

His eyes averted to the ground, staring down at the both of your feet, one pair tapping angrily and the other shuffling in hopes of escape. He felt himself folding in, a habit he had broken a long time ago with you, one he thought he had killed off forever. But apparently it hadn’t.

“You can’t even answer me,” you shuddered. Your sneakers squeaked against the shiny linoleum, leading you back a step. “You - I don’t understand this. At all. And you can’t even give me an answer why? D-don’t I deserve a reason for why I hurt you, Diego?”

“No, c’mon. I…” he hesitated once more as expected. Whatever he was planning on saying died in his mouth and thickened his tongue, leaving him once again stumbling for an excuse. He felt your eyes on him as well as his father, reproachfully clicking his tongue at once again, his stuttering, bumbling fool of a son. “I did...I didn’t…”

“Forget it. Screw this.”

“W-wait, don’t leave--”

“--I’m not leaving!”

He froze, holding onto your bicep in an attempt to stop you. Slowly, his hand fell away, “w-what?”

“I’m not leaving,” you repeated, and slowly he watched as a devilish smile stained your cheeks, pulling away the angry lines of before. “I didn’t come here to leave, I came here for answers. And I guess I just have to fight you for ‘em.”

At that point, Diego’s head had been through the wringer so much, he felt like it could just pop off if he wasn’t careful. And yet still, his eyes bugged out and he stared at you in complete shock, unsure just how he was supposed to process that last sentence.

“I’m sorry, what?!”

You shrugged like it was nothing at all, “c’mon. I know you’re better with the physical stuff and I wanna catch you off guard, finally get an answer out of you. I’m gonna, like, fight you for the truth.”

He watched as you toed off your shoes and shrugged off your thin jacket, letting it fall to the floor behind you with little care. You seemed ready, like you had planned this all along -- and had you? What was the reason behind all this? Was there something that he just wasn’t getting, in his state of emotional disarray? Or were you just losing your mind because of him?

“L-look, I’m s-sorry, but I,” he paused, trying to form the syllables in his mouth so they weren’t so thick and jumbled. “I can’t just fight you.”

“Sure you can. We spar all the time.”

“But w-w-why?”

Once more, your shoulders lifted and fell; ever the nonchalant dramatic. “Call it a bet. I win, you tell me why you avoided me for so long. And if you win, which you probably won’t but if you do…” you grimaced. “I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.”

Diego baulked. “I don’t want that.”

“Clearly you do,” you jabbed back. “Right?”

“No. I don’t. I don’t want to lose you.”

You huffed; clearly you didn’t believe him, but you also seemed set on the idea that you were definitely going to win, so he wasn’t sure where he stood in that. “Fine, pick your prize and keep it to yourself. I don’t care.”

Diego still hesitated, hovering to the side as you wrapped your hands. There seemed no way out of the situation, but surely there had to be - surely you weren’t just going to hop into the ring for an explanation.

Was this some ill-fated revenge?

You must have noticed his expression, because he heard you laughing from a whiles away. “I’m not looking to hurt you, Diego. Trust me, no matter what you do, I’d never want to do that.”

His heart fluttered.

“It’s just,” you cocked your head, thinking over your words before smiling again, “like you said when you first started training me. Freestyle, baby.”

You had deepened your voice tremendously to mock his own -- and while it was a horrible impression, it did call back to the one you did before of him. Not that you seemed to remember that, you had been piss drunk, but the thought still made him cringe.

All this, because of him. He screwed it all up and for what?

“Rules are the same as always. First person to pin the other down for more than five beats wins. No serious hits, so like, don’t break my nose or anything.”

“I can’t do this,” he mumbled, even as he stepped into the ring. “We don’t need to do this. We can just talk.”

You sighed and looked back at him. There was a fierceness in your eyes, a determination for something he wasn’t quite sure of -- like there was a plan in motion, only he couldn’t figure out where the steps lead. “I didn’t come here to walk away, Diego. I’m here to win a bet and get my friend back, and also kick his ass if I have to because I’m desperate. You can’t convince me to leave, so wrap your hands and let’s get this going!”

“But-”

“-it’s either this or I just stare at you until you crack,” you said, no longer smiling. “And I doubt you want that typ’a torture, do you?”

He stared at you askance. “Really?”

You didn’t answer him with words that time.

The fight was fast, and almost evenly matched -- you had a slight advantage with your eye on your prize, and he was faltering with every other blow knowing he couldn’t bear to hurt you. But the pace picked up and soon it was like you were one fluid being, predators locked on and desperate to claw the other away from them while simultaneously, drawing them back in. Fists flew and every so often he saw the sparks fly from the fire in your eyes, catching on everything he turned from and leaving him surrounded by the flames you spilled.

For a moment, Diego thought he had it. He had managed to pivot away from your last onslaught and pulled you away from the centre, edging into the corner where he could finally pin you down. His arms outstretched and for a moment he was actually smiling because it felt like the good old days -- sparring way too late into the night when he should have been working with the girl he secretly loved and the stars watching from way above, admiring the gruesomely pretty sight.

But in a flash, everything switched.

He lunged, you slid.

When he fumbled, your legs wrapped around his own, pulling him back and flipping over one another like beetles rolling in the hot sun.

You were everywhere, smothering his smoke with your body, forcing him down before he even realised what was happening.

Diego blinked, and suddenly you were on top of him, legs on either side of his waist and your hands holding his own up above his head. Your expression edged on feral as you grinned down at him, straddling him and fighting everything he pushed back with.

But he couldn’t fight back. Not when you were on him and everywhere and he could smell your shampoo as your hand dangled around him, dripping your scent around him like he was in that poppy field from Wizard of Oz, ready to give into the toxin and be one with the flowers. Your hands held his own and he wished he could slide his fingers into the clasp, holding them to him and kiss each bruised knuckle with tenderness he didn’t know he possessed. Your hips, legs, chest pressed against his own, both heaving and waiting for the other to move and interrupt the tension rising with every passing second.

“One,” you began, voice low and teasing. Did you know what you did to him? “Two…��

Diego writhed in your hold, but it was no use. You had him. He was yours and he would be satisfied to be so for the rest of your days, if only you never let him go. His gaze flitted across your face, tracing the way your eyebrows furrowed and relaxed with the numbers, eyes still wide and filled with emotions he didn’t quite know how to read. Sweat beaded on your brow and stained your cheeks and yet still, he thought you were as perfect as you could be, mere inches from his own darting eyes.

“Four...four and a half…” your smile grew and you got a little closer, almost touching his face with your own. “Five…”

He didn’t dare to breathe.

“I win, Hargreeves.”

But despite the hushed declaration, you did not move. Your body stayed over his, hands pushing his own down with gentle force but keeping him locked under you. Your eyes remained on his own, locking them in place as your face grew nearer. Soon enough your nose was just touching his own, nudging softly and turning so it fit better against his lips, which were parted and so close to pressing against your own-

-but you pulled away.

Just as Diego’s eyes had shut, your weight left his and he was left to sit up confused and watch you stomp away. You slipped out of the ring and down to the ground with a soft thump. He watched you unwrap your knuckles and to his surprise, he saw your hands shake with the movement.

“This was a mistake,” you mumbled to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear. “This was stupid, I have to-”

“-don’t go,” he mumbled. In one swift movement Diego had jumped back to his feet and pulled after you. You stumbled back a few paces; he raced after, hurrying to your side with an aggression he didn’t know he possessed. “Don’t go.”

“Diego, I-”

“-I pushed you away because I screwed up,” he said, all in one breath and so fast he wasn’t sure if you could understand him. “I messed this up. We’re only supposed to be friends, I know that, but I-I can’t not be in love with you, not when you’re that perfect and so beautiful and you make me smile e-even when I feel like the shittiest sh-sh-shit and-”

“-kiss me.”

“What?”

You stepped forward, angling yourself just under his chin. Your chest heaved. “Kiss me, asshole.”

And slowly his hands moved on their own accord, cupping your cheeks and holding you to him. His eyes darted down once, staring at the pink lips before reaching your own again for a silent affirmation. When you nodded in his hands he acted, pulling you to him quickly and pressing his lips against his own, finally.

It was fast and passionate, both beings pulling at the other, urging the other closer than the skin they already pressed against. His one hand left your jaw to hold your neck, angling your face so he could better caress it, smudging himself across your lips with little care. He felt your own touch against his back, sliding down to his hips and pulling -- without even thinking, he moaned, feeling your lower body roll up against him and leave his mind in overdrive.

You pulled away for air finally, gasping only to be pulled in again for a softer, gentler kiss. He pecked the corners of your mouth before finally taking your lower in between his teeth, biting softly before sucking on the tender swollen skin. He pulled away then, dropping his forehead to your own as you both took another breath.

“If…” you paused to inhale, grinning through the gasp of oxygen, “if I knew you were holding all that back, Diego, I would have kissed your ass a lot sooner.”

“I’m...I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry,” you murmured. He felt your hands leave his waist, pulling up to the one he still had cradled against your cheek. Your head leaned into the gentle touch. Even as your fingers held his. “I just...is this why you stopped talking to me?”

Diego shook his head softly against your own. Once more his heart faltered and threatened to burst, but he ignored it. “No, I just...I realised that I was-”

“-sorry, I don’t - you have an eyelash.” He froze as your fingers stroked his cheek, pulling away the evidence that had caught your attention. Your eyes darted up to his for a moment, and he watched as they widened and brightened under his perplexed gaze. “Your eyes really are pretty.”

His heart stopped for a beat.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“That’s why I stopped!” he exclaimed. He pulled away from you then, gesticulating wildly around like the air was going to supply you with answers. “That’s why!”

You frowned, cocking your head like a lost puppy. “You...because of your pretty eyes?!”

“What? Wait, no, that’s not why.”

“I’m so confused right now, bud, and I just--”

“--last week,” he rushed, cutting you off before he could lose momentum again. “I took you home. You were wasted, and you kept talking and - and you told me I had pretty eyes.”

Still, you looked bewildered.

“I-I have been obsessed with you since the day I met you,” he said, soft and unsure if any of the words would come out right. Or if they themselves were the right ones to say. “I couldn’t help it. And I didn’t let myself act on it because I knew that it wouldn’t wo-wo-work out, you’d get mad and I’d lose you. I rathered having you as a friend, then losing you cause I was in love with you.”

“Love?” you questioned, barely a breath of a sound lingering between them.

“But that night, you went on and on and I realised then that I was too gone to keep it in. And I realised that you wouldn’t feel the same...and I didn’t want to hurt you, so I left. And…”

“Diego Hargreeves, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

His brow furrowed low, anger mingling with befuddlement on his flushed skin. “Hey, I-”

“-first of all, you really think I would just hate you because you thought of me as more than a friend?! Even if I didn’t like you - which I do, by the way - I wouldn’t do that, I value you too much. But second of all, you’re telling me that you never noticed how much I liked you back?!”

“I-”

“-I have felt like an idiot for the past year, holding in my feelings for you and wishing you could feel the same way. And when you left, I thought - I thought that was it, and that I screwed things up when I was drunk, which I guess I did but-”

“-you didn’t screw anything up, I did!”

“No you didn’t, I did! I’m the drunken initiator!”

“I shouldn’t have just left!”

“Okay, so we both screwed up!” you shouted, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. “But dammit, Diego, I have loved you for ages, and you - we - this is what it came to?!”

“Well, I-”

“-I can’t believe this!” you chortled. “All this time?!”

“I guess so,” he said, voice catching on the ‘so’. “I guess, yeah.”

“Holy crap.”

“Ha. Yeah.”

“I love you,” you giggled, breathless and still flushed, messy and beautiful in the shitty gym lighting. “I love you, Diego Hargreeves.”

His heart didn’t break. It didn’t even crack. Diego instead felt the slight twinge as the organ settled in his chest, content and buzzing with the panted cry. The breaklines of before didn’t feel so harsh, mended by your shiny eyes and swollen lips that he wanted to stare at until the end of his days. For once, his heart actually felt whole.

“I love you too,” Diego mumbled, smiling like a little kid. The muscles in his face, rusted over with age and disuse, groaned at the extreme grin but he kept it on anyways, smiling down at you with the strangest feeling of happiness coursing through his body. “A lot.”

And you beamed. “Have I ever told you, your eyes look like, a thousand times prettier when you smile?”

A/N: WHY DO I KEEP WRITING ALCOHOL BASED IDIOTS TO LOVERS FICS?? Have I any other creative thoughts?? Does this make me seem like that’s all I think about?? These are the thoughts that now run through my mind as I rush to post this...and truthfully, I don’t have an answer. I swear I’m a little more creative! I just...have a hankering for these things. Oops.

I wrote this weirdly super super fast and it’s super nonsensical, especially the middle bits? But I weirdly like it. I’m not sure. The plot is a ~little~ wonky but I’m rolling with it!

I’m open to make more stuff on here, I’ve gotten quite bad at it but I like writing these things as practice pieces. So, if you want to read more, requests are open and you can find a list of prompts (if you want them) in my masterlist. I’m putting out an updated list later on in the month, but I also am just open to have any sorts of requests. xx

(also as always - if you enjoyed and you want more, follow, reblog, and consider buying me a kofi! linked in my bio bc tumblr doesn’t like direct links on posts, please check it out if you’re feeling generous because I’m recently unemployed and any bit helps. but sharing this post and showing others the work is appreciated a great deal and i love you if you do!)

#diego hargreeves x reader #mine #diego hargreeves oneshot #diego hargreeves imagine #tua x reader #umbrella academy x reader #hargreeves x reader #gender neutral reader

208 notes · View notes

sapphirelass · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll be by your side - Remus LupinxDaughter

Hi!! Wooow I’m a slow writer XD To be fair though, I am graduating in June, so there’s...quite a lot to do. Anyhow, this is part 3 of my imagine deal? so I’d recommend reading that one and part two first. Remus is my favourite HP character, so this mainly focuses on the relationship between him and his daughter, but I guess it’s slight HarryxOC as well ;)

Deal? (Part 1) | Oh, darling... (Part 2) | I’ll be by your side (Part 3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please note:

1: I don’t own any of the gifs used, nor any already established characters, so credit to the authors and original creators - You have done a phenomenal job :)

2: English is not my native language, as I was born and raised in Sweden. I have, however, studied English for almost a decade, so I don’t think it’ll be a problem, I just thought I’d let you know ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Word count: ≈ 2200

Warnings: Battle of Hogwarts, Angst, Blood, Death :(

Enjoy! :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But, dad! You can’t go yourself and then expect me not to come along!”

“Yes, Bree, I can, and I will!”

He was desperate to go join the rest of the Order, and searched frantically for his old coat.

“Bu-”

“Darling, listen, this is not your fight, okay? You’re staying with Tonks and Teddy this time, and I’ll-”

She had grabbed his coat and was holding it behind her back, out of her father’s reach.

“DAD!!”

Remus stopped for a moment and took a proper look at his daughter for the first time since receiving the message about the upcoming battle.

“Look, I’m seventeen years old. I’m an adult now, and most of my younger friends are fighting. There’s literally no reason for me not to!”

“There is a perfectly good reason and you know that! Besides, your age is completely irrelevant! It wouldn’t matter if you were fifteen or seventeen, twenty or thirty, I don’t want you fighting!”

His voice was stern, which admittedly wasn’t too uncommon, but it lacked the normal comedic undertone and not even a ghost of a smile could be seen on his face. This did make Breanna feel quite uncomfortable, but she was not giving up. She couldn’t leave everyone else and just sit quietly on the sidelines. Surely he understood that, right?

“Well, I’m sorry, but it’s not your choice to make. I know you don’t like it, but I’m going.”

She gave her father his coat and picked a jumper for herself, but stopped abruptly when approaching the front door. Remus had stepped in front of her, and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Please, darling… I can’t have you injured again - or worse! Stay.”

“Dad, I promised you two years ago that I would pick my fights more wisely. We made a deal. And I am choosing this one.”

“Breanna, it’s not the same! Seeing you hurt back then caused me more pain than you could possibly imagine, but this will be worse. Far worse. An-”

“Don’t you think I know that?” It wasn’t her intention to snap at him, but they didn’t have time for this argument. People were waiting. “I know it’s for real this time, it most definitely was two weeks ago, but I honestly thought you would have more faith in me. I’m not five, okay?!”

“Bree, don-”

She pulled out of his embrace, tied her shoes and apparated. Leaving him in the middle of an argument like that broke her heart. She knew the chances of them both making it out alive were low, unharmed close to none. They did, however, not have a choice. There was no time to waste. Voldemort could be attacking the castle this very moment, and Harry, Dumbledore’s army and the rest of the Order would need all the help they could get…

~~~

Breanna ran down the stairs, desperately searching for any familiar faces, and eventually spotted one she had really longed to see.

“Harry!!”

He turned at the sound of his name and smiled - really smiled - when their eyes met. They weren’t more than a few feet away from each other, and it didn’t take long before they met in the middle.

“Bree! You alright?” They hugged each other tightly and enjoyed the feeling of safety, if only for a few seconds. “What happened to your arm?”

She followed his gaze and found her sleeve torn and shoulder covered in blood. It wasn’t too bad though, she hadn’t even noticed it before Harry pointed it out.

“I-I don’t know, it’s fine. How are you feeling?”

He looked down at her and used a bloodied and scarred hand to push some of her hair behind her ear. He wanted to say “fine”, but it would have been a lie.

“Scared”, he admitted, “But also ready. Let’s finish this, once and for all?”

She nodded. “You’re right! How can I help?”

“Well, some people are trying to evacuate all the younger students through the room of requirement, think you could lend them a hand?”

“Sure! Good luck Harold, see you!”

He shook his head at the nickname, but smiled nonetheless.

“Right, good luck. And Bree?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay alive, will you?”

“I’ll do my best on one condition.”

“Hmm?”

“You do the same”

He gave her a nod before continuing up the stairs.

“And Harry, we don’t have time for the full story, but if you run into my dad, let him know I’m sorry, will you?”

~~~

Sure, Breanna loved Hogwarts, it was her second home, but this was proper chaos! Most of the younger kids were finally safe, but the battle was far from won. There were death eaters everywhere. She stumbled behind suit of armor, narrowly avoiding a flash of red light, and suddenly remembered something her dad had said the other night:

“It is the quality of one's convictions that determines success, not the number of followers”

She knew it was meant to work as motivation, but thinking about it now just made her feel sad. How could she be so stupid? She fought her way through the corridors, but after turning a corner, she found herself facing an empty hallway. A chill went down her spine as the booming voice of Lord Voldemort could be heard all throughout the grounds. He was ordering his followers to back down, hoping to get Harry to come directly to him. Great! Now she had two people to find before it was too late...

Entering the great hall this time felt nothing like it had almost seven years ago. There were people everywhere. Students, teachers, children, former graduates and parents - all in this together, mourning, comforting and healing.

Breanna would have noticed Fred Weasley surrounded by the rest of his family. Neville and Oliver Wood carefully moving Colin Creevey out of the way. She would have seen all of them, had it not been for a certain old, brown coat in her peripheral vision.

Her world fell apart, she found herself unable to breathe and didn’t realize she had sprinted towards her father before she felt two, strong arms wrap around her. Breanna struggled and tried to push them away, but didn’t have enough strength to do so. She crumpled to the ground and was pulled into a tight embrace.

“Bree…”, a soft voice mumbled. “I’m so sorry. Can you try to breathe slower, please? Deep and easy, alright.”

She realized that someone was speaking to her, but she didn’t recognize the words. They held no meaning, almost as if he spoke a different language, or stood very far away. Breanna eventually stopped hyperventilating and tried to ease the shaking as she slowly turned to check who it was, sitting with his arms around her. Her eyes met a pair of emerald green ones.

“Harry.”, she whispered, still crying but trying to keep her focus on him. There was so much more she would have wanted to say, but she was unable to find the right words. “Please tell me.... Tell me he’s no-...”

“‘m sorry”

They sat for a few minutes before Harry picked a small vial from his pocket and asked if she’d be okay.

“Bree, I’m sorry, but I have to go. It’s not over yet.”

She took a deep breath.

“It’s fine, I get it. Go. I’d love a moment alone anyways.”

~~~

She sat by her father’s side for a while, but felt unable to look at him, not wanting to fully accept the reality of the situation. It was when the fifth person came up to her to give their condolences that she got up and left the great hall. She couldn’t take it, and besides, it should be fine. The death eaters had left.

She walked the familiar path towards the Gryffindor common room, but nothing seemed... real. It felt like a nightmare, only this time she couldn’t talk it through with her dad over a cup of tea. This time, nobody would be there to convince her it was just a bad dream.

This time, no one would wake her up…

The very moment that thought crossed her mind, a dark chuckle shattered the otherwise eerie silence.

“Avada kedavra”

She barely had time to register Antonin Dolohov with his wand pointed in her direction before an intense flash of green light caused her world to go dark.

This time, she wouldn’t wake up.

~~~

*Darkness*

*A flicker of light*

*A flicker of... hope*

*Warmth?*

~~~

It was a weird feeling. She didn’t feel happy, but rather… at peace. She sat up slowly and let her eyes adjust to the brightness as two voices simultaneously asked:

“Bree?!”

She turned around and found herself face to face with a rather tall, red haired wizard, and a slightly older man with longer brown hair.

“Fred? Sirius?”

Fred skipped over and held out his hand, helping his younger friend to her feet. He immediately noticed her dried tears and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sirius remained a few feet away with a pained expression on his face, but was unable to stay quiet for long.

“What happened?”

Breanna pulled away and met her godfather’s worried gaze.

“I… It’s my fault. I thought all the Death Eaters had left the castle. They were waiting for Harry in the forbidden forest and I just needed some air...”

“Did Harry go?”

A couple Breanna had only seen in pictures, but knew to be James and Lily Potter, had appeared behind Sirius.

“I’m not sure. He left for Dumbledore’s office about fifteen minutes earlier. I’m sorry I didn’t even try to stop him but, with all due respect, he would have gone anyways. It’s impossible to change his mind once he decides on something.”

To her surprise, none of Harry’s parents looked very worried, but shared a smile instead.

“Don’t worry, Breanna.”, said Lily gently, “He’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

“You’ve both come so far”, added James, “Things will be fine in the end, and if they’re not fine, then it’s not the end.”

“I hope you’re both right…”, she mumbled quietly, “sorry, but is dad…?”

James smiled sadly and nodded before turning to call his old friend over, however Sirius got there first.

“Oi! Moony! Get over ‘ere.”

Remus had been discussing something not too far away, and Sirius’ comment made him chuckle as he approached the other marauders.

“Easy, Pads, you make it sound li-”

That was all he had time for, as two arms wrapped themselves tightly around his torso. He would have known who it was even without looking. He’d recognize that hug anywhere. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, but all it took was one word.

one. single. word.

“Dad!”

A single word before hot, salty tears filled his eyes. It wasn’t possible!? He was completely lost for words. Didn’t know how to react, what to say or what to do. He just stood there, his arms wrapped around his only daughter, unable to process the fact that she was… dead. They both were.

“Dad, I’m so so so sorry! I shouldn’t have shouted, I shouldn’t have taken my anger or fear out on you and above all I shouldn’t have left!?! I… I..”

“Bree”

“And now Teddy won’t have his father-”

“Bree!!”

“And I swear I tried to find you, but I couldn’t and then it was too late and it’s all my fault a-”

“Breanna Lupin!!!”

She fell silent but didn’t let go.

“I’m s-”

“Darling, calm down! What’s done is done, alright. I still wish you hadn’t gone, especially given the apparent outcome, but I understand. Are you okay? Nothing broken?”

“No, I’m good, actually… Nothing hurts at all, but-”

“Good!” He pulled away and put his hands on her shoulders. “Would you mind letting me in on what happened?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, not really wanting to talk about the last few hours, yet knowing she owed her father that much.

“I… I entered the great hall and saw… you. I don’t quite know what happened, I just… broke. Then Harry showed up and we just hugged, I guess?”

Lily and James looked at each other and smiled.

“Then we both left and Dolohov appeared out of nowhere and… well that’s that.”

Remus shook his head sadly, immediately understanding the true meaning of his daughter’s words. HE was duelling Dolohov earlier that night. HE lost that duel. Had he won then maybe, possibly, she would still be alive too. His fault... as always

“Remus? Rem?”, James mumbled, putting an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “It’s not your fault. You tried, and that’s the best either of us can do.”

~~~

Things didn’t go according to plan, but perhaps they were the way they were always meant to be.

Her body next to her fathers, as they rested peacefully in the great hall. Her soul next to her father, as they wandered through the deep valleys of Nangijala, awaiting the day lost friends and lovers would come join them. No matter in this life or in the next;

I’ll be by your side

~ L

Masterlist

84 notes · View notes

writers-worst-nightmare · 4 years ago

Text

No brains (Dabi x reader)

Ask: Daddy Dabi s/o is a crackhead with zero brain cells

Pairing(s): Dabi x reader

Warning(s): large amounts of cussing (there are lyrics of WAP for most of it what did you expect?), crackhead energy, Dabi just giving up, 18+ themes (minors dni please), deaf Bakugou

A/N: absolutely anon! I would love to do this! (I have so many ideas running through my head rn lol) AND ignore if it says “Aishi” instead of you I got this from my oc x canon fanfiction

Request are always open!

“Hahaha look at your face!!!” You exclaimed, pointing towards Dabi as he tried to open a champion bottle and helplessly failing.

“You wanna try?” Dabi challenged, still struggling to open the bottle.

“No.” You admitted, just when the League couldn’t possibly get any more chaotic the whole bakusquad came.

“SUP BITCHES!” Mina yelled on the top of her lounges, popping open some wine with Denki, Sero, Jiro, and Kirishima following closely behind.

“How the hell did you do that?!” Dabi asked as he finally popped the lid off, the corkscrew went flying in the air and hit Bakugou. Bakugou smacked Dabi across the face and sulked in the corner.

“I don’t need to know sign language to know what that means.” Jiro stated, her index finger flicking in the air like something was going to fall out of the roof on her command. Dabi flipped the purple haired girl off, Jiro rolled her eyes and focused on getting the food out of the way. She gently laid down some pork and smiled at the villains.

“Why the fuck did you bring pork?” Shigeraki asked, finally un-glueing himself from Deku and going right in front of Jirou.

“Pork means good luck and wealth if you eat it on New Years.” Jirou answered carefully.

“We’re going to need that considering that you guys keep attacking us!” Kirishima added, not wanting to be left out on the conversation.

”we attack you guys so much because it’s fun!” Toga cheered, her yellow eyes scanning the bar. “Is Izuku here?” She inquired, Bakugou just the door open and scoffed at Toga’s attitude.

”No, he just jumped out the window.” The ash-blond teased. Toga growled before leaping forward and trying to stab Bakugou, Bakugou skillfully dodged and tripped Toga with his feet. Toga scowled before leaping on top of him, but she was stopped by Dabi holding her torso.

“LET ME AT HIM DABI!!! I’LL TEAR HIM APART!!!” Toga screeched as she tried to get away form his grasp. Dabi rolled his eyes as he held Toga back, bored out of his mind.

“Later.” He responded, chucking Toga on the couch. Toga landed on Spinner and the two then argument amongst themselves.

*later with Y/N*

”Come oooooon!!!” You whined, dragging Dabi out and getting him in the car.

“Champion, you know I love you right?” Dabi asked, you nodded her head as she started the car and buckled yourself in.

“Yep!” You exclaimed, putting a lot of power on the ‘p’ sound.

“But we talked about this…not driving.” Dabi stated more sternly. You rolled your y/e/c eyes and started driving anyway.

***

”Y/N/N YOU ARE GOING TO MAKE ME THROW UP!!!!” Dabi yelled, you shrugged her shoulders as you broke every speed limit there was imaginable.

“Oh look the cops are chasing me.” You commented as you pointed to the back window of the car where several police cars were chasing after Dabi and you.

“OH GOD!!!!” Dabi exclaimed, rolling brown the window and throwing rocks at them.

“Since when do we have rocks in the car?” You inquired, your calm and squeaky voice not even comparing to Dabi’s frantic and deep voice.

“SINCE YOU STARTED DRIVING!!!” Dabi countered, you hummed and started playing “WAP” on full volume as she started singing along.

I said, certified freak Seven days a week Wet-ass pussy Make that pull-out game weak, woo

”y/n you bitch stop singing to tiktok songs and help me!” Dabi begged, you ignored your boyfriends cry for help and kept driving. Pushing the speed limits a little further each time.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy Give me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy

You ignored as the cops yelled some gibberish and kept singing. The citizens turned and saw the police-chase, some laughing at you and some joining in on your singing.

Beat it up, nigga, catch a charge Extra large and extra hard Put this pussy right in your face Swipe your nose like a credit card Hop on top, I wanna ride I do a kegel while it's inside Spit in my mouth, look in my eyes This pussy is wet, come take a dive Tie me up like I'm surprised Let's role play, I'll wear a disguise I want you to park that big Mack truck Right in this little garage Make it cream, make me scream

Everyone in the sidewalks soon joined in your singing as the younger teens pulled out their phones and recorded her to put it on their tiktok’s. Dabi was still having a mental break down as he screamed on the top of his lounges that the cops where still after him.

Out in public, make a scene I don't cook, I don't clean But let me tell you how I got this ring (ayy, ayy)

”You where fine at first until you forced me to date you then you showed your true colors.” Dabi answered, everyone in the crowd berth into laughter along with you. Soon, Dabi reluctantly joined in on the singing.

Gobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me Quick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me I tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be I'll run down on him 'fore I have a nigga running me Talk your shit, bite your lip Ask for a car while you ride that dick (while you ride that dick)

the cops started slowing down and the cool cops joined in in on the singing while the grumpy cops yelled at the citizens and threatened to arrest them.

You really ain't never gotta fuck him for a thang He already made his mind up 'fore he came Now get your boots and your coat For this wet-ass pussy He bought a phone just for pictures Of this wet-ass pussy Pay my tuition just to kiss me On this wet-ass pussy Now make it rain if you wanna See some wet-ass pussy

as the chorus came around again everyone sang even louder. Laughter filling the area as they saw the funniest nonsense that belonged to the villains.

Look, I need a hard hitter, I need a deep stroker I need a Henny drinker, I need a weed smoker Not a garden snake, I need a king cobra With a hook in it, hope it lean over He got some money, then that's where I'm headed Pussy A1, just like his credit He got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it I let him taste it, now he diabetic I don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp I wanna gag, I wanna choke I want you to touch that lil' dangly thing That swing in the back of my throat My head game is fire, punani Dasani It's going in dry and it's coming out soggy I ride on that thang like the cops is behind me I spit on his mic and now he tryna sign me, woo

Everyone practically screamed the ‘dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat’ part, the music from the radio now drowned out by the people who have memorized it word-by-word either eagerly or reluctantly.

Your honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes Switch my wig, make him feel like he cheating Put him on his knees, give him something to believe in Never lost a fight, but I'm looking for a beating In the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya If he ate my ass, he's a bottom feeder Big D stand for big demeanor I could make you bust before I ever meet ya If it don't hang, then he can't bang You can't hurt my feelings, but I like pain If he fuck me and ask, "Whose is it?" When I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name Ah (whores in this house)

Dabi started recording on his phone while people sang the bridge and sent it to the ‘League Of Villains’ group-chat.

Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, you fucking with some wet-ass pussy Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy Give me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy Now from the top, make it drop That's some wet-ass pussy Now get a bucket and a mop That's some wet-ass pussy I'm talking WAP, WAP, WAP That's some wet-ass pussy Macaroni in a pot That's some wet-ass pussy, huh

As the song came to and ended some people stopped recording but to there kept recording. Dabi got a text from ‘Ash Child’

Ash Child: What the fuck?!

Dabi: y/n started running from the cops and out on this song

Chapstick🧴🧴🧴: I already heard this song enough!

Blood rat 🐀🩸: I said certified freak!

Spinner: That’s it I am removing Toga from the group chat

Blood rat 🐀🩸: but whyyyy

-blood rat🐀🩸 was removed from the group chat-

People starting listening to the blasting radio as the song came to an end.

(There's some whores in this house) (There's some whores in this house)

42 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.12 Mukami Ruki [Track 3]

Original title: 躾の機会

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 12 Mukami Ruki [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Takahiro Sakurai

Translator’s note: Thankfully this track is a little more tame than the last one because there is only so much sadistic Ruki I can handle, haha. I do like how the MC is using the hourglass to her advantage and every time Ruki realizes what she is doing, time is once again rewinded. Unfortunately, I can no see this ending well for either of them. > <

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 3: A Training Opportunity

*Sizzle sizzle*

You enter the kitchen while Ruki is cooking.

“...Hm? You’re already here? You almost resemble a dog or a cat rather than livestock, lured in by the scent like that.”

*Cling*

“Let me tell you just in case, it is not feeding time (1) just yet. Wait until I’m done preparing it.”

You offer to lend him a hand.

“I do not need your help. I can handle this just fine by myself. For one, how is your health? You’ve been acting somewhat off ever since you hid yourself away in the library yesterday, haven’t you?”

You tell Ruki you feel better.

*Cling cling*

“It would appear so. I can no longer sense your blood aching. I suppose strange things happen every now and then. If you’re back in tip-top shape, I don’t mind having you help you a little. I don’t dislike it when you show dedication like that after all. However, you know what will happen if you are pushing yourself, no? Deceiving me does not come without a grave punishment. Keep in mind that an appropriate penalty would be waiting you ahead.”

You flinch.

“What’s wrong? Did those words alone make you recall the times I punished you? The scent of your blood has grown somewhat sweeter. I don’t remember ever taming you that way though. ...Or perhaps you are still experiencing the after-effects of yesterday’s happenings?”

You shake your head, insisting that everything is fine.

“Hmph. I hope you are not simply putting on a tough facade. We have already made plans to head out together this weekend, so don’t get yourself bedridden.”

You walk towards the counter.

“You plate the salad. We’re having white fish today. Cut it in diagonal strips and pile some leafy vegetables on top. I am working on the dressing right now. I added some shichimi, but I already vividly picture Azusa being dissatisfied with the level of spice and coming in to add more, so do not let him approach.”

*Cling*

“You can put everything on this large plate. Please do not break it, okay?”

You nod.

“I wonder. You have a bad habit of making blunders the second I take my eyes off you. A good chunk of those I can see coming from a mile away. When I tell you not to break a plate, you drop them. When asked to stay away from a room, you still enter by mistake. You’re the type of person who would walk into a trap with their eyes widen open. (2) ...That being said, you have been behaving quite well as of late. I’ve had to discipline you much less frequently.”

You say you have learnt from your mistakes.

“Yes. Seems like it. Humankind has a bad habit of repeating the same mistakes, but with the right training, they have potential to improve. Well then, let us hurry up and wrap up this meal. Before the others start making a fuss.”

*Cling cling*

“When I think back to the time you had only just arrived at this manor, you have shown great improvement. You burden me far less now. Back then, I doubt I ever thought such a day would come. A day on which we stand side-by-side behind the kitchen counter like this. Right, I suppose I have to acknowledge you for that at least. While it is only a minor help (3), you can be mildly useful regardless.”

He turns off the stove.

“However, I just don’t understand...”

You tilt your head to the side.

“I’m talking about your recent behavior. I do not mind being less burdened to you, but it still seems odd for someone like you - who used to make one mistake after the other - to suddenly become this clever. It is almost as if you learnt from your mistakes and are trying to avoid them in the future...”

*Cling*

“What’s wrong? Your complexion seems a little pale.”

You try to change the subject.

“You do have a point. I suppose I should finish my task at hand first, before resorting to idle talk.”

*Thud*

“Let us continue this conversation after dinner. I am done with the dressing. You have finished cutting the ingredients as well, right? Put everything on a plate.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Ah, use those tomatoes to your side as well. Yuma plucked those just this morning.”

You nod.

“Oi, don’t be lazy and take a few steps to the side. Trying to reach it by extending your arm will onlーー”

You accidentally push the plate off the counter.

*SHATTER*

"Haah...I take back everything I said earlier. It seems like humans do like to repeat the same mistakes after all. On top of that, you did not just break the plate, but you wasted the food as well. It seems like your foolishness is only on the rise. Seems like I was just imagining things when I thought you had been on the right track as of late.”

You quickly kneel down, picking up the shards.

*Rustle*

“Wait. Don’t move. You don’t need to pick them up.”

*Cling cling*

“If you were to touch the glass shards, you willl most definitely hurt yourself, no?”

You cut your finger right as he says that.

“Haah...I knew it. When your next bunder is so easily predictable, I can barely still call it foolish. ...Show it to me.”

Ruki grabs hold of your hand.

“Seems like the cut is rather deep. It is bleeding.”

*Smooch*

You wince.

“I am sure that hurt. There’s a large cut on the palm of your hand. However, this is child’s play compared to the wound left behind by fangs piercing the flesh. Fangs, huh...? Right. I do not mind simply tending to your wounds, but you will not take anything away from that. I have had very few opportunities to discipline you because you have been so good. You made this kind of blunder because I have been slacking on your training, no? In that case, it can be contributed to my negligence as your Master.”

*Rustle*

“Let us put preparing the food on hold for now. I shall dedicate this time to your taming instead.”

You shake your head.

“You simply do not understand unless I give you pain every now and then, no? You just proved it yourself. It is your first punishment in a while. I shall give you my fangs, to the point of your blood running dry.”

*Rustle rustle*

“What are you looking for? You must be rather confident. However, no matter how much you struggle, you simply have no way of escaーー”

You pull out the hourglass.

*Cling*

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

...

“When I think back to the time you had only just arrived at this manor, you have shown great improvement. You burden me far less now. Back then, I doubt I ever thought such a day would come. A day on which we stand side-to-side behind the kitchen counter like this. ...What’s the matter? Your movements have stopped.”

You look around frantically.

“What has gotten into you? You will cut your hand if you panic like that. If not that, it’ll end with you dropping that large plate.”

You look away.

“Why did you avert your eyes just now? Your complexion has changed as well. You were your usual laid-back self up until just now, but right now, you have turned pale.”

Ruki turns off the stove.

“There is one question I would like to ask. ...Are you perhaps hiding something from me?”

You remain quiet.

“I do not mind exposing you myself, but if you choose to confess yourself, I shall take that into account and somewhat lessen your punishment. If there is nothing you are hiding from me, face my way. Look me straight into the eyes.”

You turn around.

“You are shifting your eyes from left to right. On top of that, you’re suppressing your breathing. So you are hiding something after all, huh...? I doubt this is the case but are you perhaps using that hourglass for somethiーー”

*Cling*

“...Ah! So you really are...!!”

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

...

*Sizzle sizzle*

You enter the kitchen while Ruki is cooking.

“...Hm? You’re already here? You almost resemble a dog or a cat rather than livestock, lured in by the scent like that.”

*Cling*

“Let me tell you just in case, it is not feeding time (1) just yet. Wait until I’m done preparing it.”

You tell him you will wait.

“...Huh? Ah, yes. Very clever words. Just wait quietly.”

You leave the kitchen.

“Why does something seem off...?”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) Ruki uses the term 餌 or ‘esa’ here, which is specifically used to refer to the food you would give to animals. Otherwise you would say ご飯 or ‘gohan’ which means meal, or 食事 or ‘shokuji’ which means ‘(human) food’.

(2) Literally he says ‘if there were to be a hole in front of you, you would fall into it’.

(3) Ruki uses the idiom 猫の手 or ‘neko no te’ which means ‘a cat’s paw’ literally. It is when the help you are offered may not be ideal (e.g. as if it’s a cat helping you and not a human), it is still better than nothing.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #ruki mukami #diabolik lovers more more blood #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

56 notes · View notes

themanip · 4 years ago

Text

alternate routes

SYNOPSIS — how do you go throughout life? well, you find someone you like. get to know them. start dating. break up a few times, get back together. get married. have some kids. die old. typical. fucking in a back room of an awards show, not once, but twice as complete strangers, was definitely not how most relationships start out.

PAIRING — taehyung x metzi (oc) WARNINGS — descriptions of cheating, fliphones, mentions of getting laid, really bad intros tbh, the introvert line being introverts, and girls who are rlly bad at timing, an asshole named ryan, cursing WORD COUNT — just over 3.1k AUTHOR’S NOTE — hi! i am so fucking bad at writing the first chapter or two, i promise if you can bear the beginning of this story, it gets better. i have two and a half chapters written so far but i am writing super often! once a few more chapters get published i will create a masterlist. please enjoy and if you have any comments or recs don’t hesitate to let me know!! :)))

𝟏: 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐄

𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟖 ⇥ The universe known to man is a labyrinth—an irregular maze, a passage that cannot be routed—and to understand that took more than an average mind. The matter was far too complicated than any obsolete man to comprehend on a whim. Millenia passed before galaxies were formed, planets were created, all unbeknownst to the stars bursting just miles apart.

From early amphibians, to the ice age, to cavemen, evolution has made great strides in every species. Humans in the past were variants called homosapiens, and most likely came from chimpanzees. Great strides like this were something to be proud of, you'd think.

When Metzi Ludovic realized that birds can fly with natural evolution, while humans had to industrialize it (thanks to the Wright brothers) she was pretty distraught. As an imaginative and critical eight-year old, fifteen years later, not much had changed. Currently, she was pondering over the fact that humans are one of the few species with opposable thumbs.

Majority of animals had not yet evolutionized to create opposable thumbs. While frantic over this, she also imagined her beautiful Pomeranian, with thumbs popping out of his paws. Her thoughts were quickly subdued, thanks to her coherent thoughts making an appearance. As cool as it would be, all other animals would devour humans if they gained that ability.

Is that the only reason humans are all mighty? They can industrialize and aim properly due to their adaptations, so that they somehow became top of the food chain?

Thankfully, she was redacted from her thoughts as her manager, Emmy, let out a distressed sigh. "Wren, we cannot change your outfit again. You look beautiful," At this point, looking at Wren, she knew that she would look good. Somehow, she couldn't convince herself.

"Wren, we can switch. I don't hate green, so you can take blue if you want it. I really don't mind," Metzi smiled softly, and she knew it was the right thing to offer as Wren's face lit up, a few tears being wiped away. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just do me a favor and loosen the ties on that, please. I have had way too many tacos yesterday to fit into it with the strings that tight," a small laugh left her mouth, and as she laid on the comfortable sofa. It was plush, but somehow offered no lumbar support. Who the hell makes a couch so soft, yet so unbearable for convenience of naps?

Selfish, she thought.

This dressing room was beautiful, so you'd think they'd have enough funds to make a decent couch. She could enjoy the aesthetics of the room, anyways. A luxurious baby pink covered the walls, and was bordered by pristine white. Plush gray carpet was under her feet, and was stain free. With Malorie in here, that probably wouldn't last long.

She was over by the double mirrors, applying powder over her face. She was so beautiful, Metzi couldn't fathom why she insisted on so much makeup. The same could be said about herself, so she kept her somewhat inner misogynistic comments at bay. She was pretty quiet, but something was off. She wasn't usually this quiet, so Metzi shot her a text.

She was very personal, and barely talked about what bothered her. Occasionally, Metzi would get her to open up, which she could physically see the relief on her face as she broke down. A brief, but to the point was written out on Metzi's phone.

you don't seem okay. wanna talk about it? Read 2:33 PM

The three dots popped up, and Metzi's attention was quickly brought to Vida, who sat down next to her, letting out a sigh. "How much longer until Olive gets here? I'm so close to taking a nap," Vida quickly put her hair into a makeshift ponytail, and leaned back, closing her eyes.

"It's only two, so I imagine not for a good hour or so, a nap sounds kind of nice," Wren commented, stood in the other corner of the room, with Emmy helped her undo the straps of her outfit. Her green silk top complimented her skin perfectly, but Metzi knew it was too late to convince her.

"Well, I'm out, wake me up when she gets here," Vida quickly blurts, and her head is now comfortably laying on the arm of the sofa. "I'll get up, I have to go to the bathroom anyways," Metzi commented, sighing before getting up.

Silence followed, and the blonde decided to take a look at her phone. A text was sent back on Malorie's behalf, and she widened her eyes momentarily. Standing still, she turned back to look at her. A face of guilt was evident, and she tried her best to hold her breath.

i have something to tell you, i'm not supposed to. i just feel so bad knowing while you don't i really shouldn't have said anything forget it

meet me in the bathroom

Read 2:37PM

Metzi's mind was in a whirlwind, and she couldn't think of anything she'd be referring to. Of course, it was useless, because clearly she wasn't meant to know about it. She hurried out of the room, the last thing she heard was Wren complaining once more about her outfit.

The hallways were empty, mostly because they'd came so early, and Metzi took her time reaching the bathroom. It was communal, so she really hoped that nobody else was here yet. The awards were meant to start in a few hours, and considering they had three faces to paint with makeup, early was a necessity.

"I hope you won't be mad at me," A small, timid voice aired behind her. The blonde turned around, and clutched her phone in fear. "I'm not, please tell me what's going on,"

As Malorie opened her phone, Metzi tapped her foot anxiously.

God, she really had to piss.

The brunette looked up at her, and showed her a photo.

"What is that?"

"That, was Ryan. On Saturday."

Ryan was her boyfriend of six years. An anxious cramping formed in her stomach at the mixture of his name and the tone of Malorie's voice. The photo she was now staring at made her want to vomit. Her stomach was now doing somersaults.

In the photo, it was indeed Ryan, in Metzi's own bed, with a mop of curly red hair under him. Most was covered by the sheets, but it was enough to come to the correct conclusion. He was clearly enjoying it too, judging by his face. Upon further inspection, she noticed something odd.

Grabbing the phone out of Malorie's hand, she zoomed in. On her nightstand, where a picture of the two usually sat, was now face down. While he fucked another woman in her bed, he turned her face down.

Tears pricked at her eyes, and she took a deep breath in.

What happened Saturday? She was home mostly all day, so when did he have time to do this?

"What—how did you get this?"

"I came to give you your present, and I heard something. Y'know since you gave me keys? I figured it was okay to come in, and your bedroom door was open. I knew Ryan would try to make me the liar, so I took a picture. He told me that if I told you," Malorie pursed her lips, "well he threatened to do something pretty fucked up."

"Holy fuck," Metzi whispered, "I just—I had no fucking clue. This entire time, and who knows how long he's been fucking her?"

One lonesome tear fell down her cheek. In anger or sadness, Malorie didn't know.

Opening her phone, she opened Ryan's contact. "Hey," Malorie whispered, her voice now soft. "If he tells you anything about me, promise you won't believe him?"

"Of course, you come first. Always."

She debated on whether or not to call him, but instead opted on a text.

I hope you enjoyed fucking merida, we're done. get your things out of my house by tomorrow. delete my number.

She wiped the tears from her eyes, and a smile adorned her face. Her bladder problems now the least of her concerns, she started back for the dressing room. Emmy now sat at the vanity, on her phone, and Vida and Wren were basically cuddling.

Surprised at the sudden intrustion, all eyes landed on the pair standing in the doorway.

"Ryan cheated on me, so now we're all single." Metzi gave nobody the chance to respond, as if anyone could think of what to say, and took a deep breath in.

"I haven't been fucked in months, and now I know why. So, I'm gonna get laid tonight, feel free to join me."

All seven of them had their faces beat to perfection, their outfits tailored and steamed of any wrinkles. They looked absolutely impeccable, as if the world around them kissed their feet. Hell, some reporters actually acted like that.

The members of BTS were now known worldwide, and it seemed that they were sought after by nearly everyone. Each member was so unique—so captivating in every aspect. Personalities somehow intertwine perfectly, yet polar opposites sometimes.

Proud but humble men, they basked in the warmth of positive attention. All eyes were on them for now, and they proudly understood it. As they walked on the red carpet of the music event, Yoongi and Jungkook both hated what they would be forced to do in mere minutes. As self-declared introverts, social interactions were about to start, and they honestly would rather sit in the corner and get this over with.

They would meet a few smaller artists, an occasional household name, (which they would fawn over for the rest of the night) and then be on their way. It would probably be in a few news articles, and some artists would insist on pictures, and they would be spread around within minutes. It was the same routine, and almost every time they would speak as little as possible, save for Namjoon, and would discuss it later. Hollywood was English dominated, and they despised it.

"Right now we only have to meet one group, and then we're okay for a few hours," Namjoon spoke quietly and quickly, and they piled off of the red carpet into a building. The hallways were scary, dark and empty, but a light above them quickly lit up.

To their surprise, the hallway was beautiful. The walls were an navy blue, white accents on top and bottom. Numerous gold paintings and records lined the walls, and it seemed to go on forever.

"Who is it we're supposed to be meeting? This hallway is a bit sketchy," Jimin perked up, and Namjoon chuckled. "WB,"

"Who is that?"

"I can't remember what their name stands for, but they sing that one song," Namjoon goes on to hum the tune to a familiar song that got pretty big, and all of the members start singing along. Of course, the lyrics are completely off and the tune is absolutely horrid, but they all recognize it vaguely.

All numbly following Namjoon, he was taking rough instructions from their manager to get there. This was not how it usually happened, but he had said something urgent came up. He had told Namjoon how to get there, and he knew that they were smart enough to make it without breaking a couple ligaments.

"Group? I thought it was one singer," Jin commented, and Taehyung nodded in agreement. "I would have never thought it was more than one. Are they American?"

"I guess we're going to find out," he snickered, and they all stopped at the corner. The door was slightly creaked open, and soft laughter could be heard. It was feminine, soft. It sounded like pure happiness was inside that door.

To double check, Namjoon eyed the sign on the door.

A large, black WB was written so even the partially blind could read. It was odd, the only dressing room out of probably at least a hundred, was all the way back, alone. They had no time to question it before Jin took a few strides forward, and boasted his English abilites.

"Come on-uh, guys."

The rest of them burst into laughter, and Namjoon quickly followed suit, knowing Jin would not be the prime candidate for introductions. He would simply utter a few English words, turn to Namjoon for help, and in panic, make a really bad play on words in Korean.

Timidly, Namjoon's knuckles rapped on the already-open door, accidentally pushing it further open a bit. "Come in!"

They were met with three girls stuffing their faces with chocolate cake, and another laying on the floor, fiddling with a.. flip-phone?

Jin grimaced at the reminder, glad it wasn't pink.

All eyes awkwardly met at the realization, and two of the three muffling down cake choked a bit. "Emmy, I thought you said 5:30?" Malorie was the one to ask, but none of the boys knew that.

"It is 5:30,"

The cake was swallowed within seconds, the flip-phone was now laying on the table, untouched. Four girls scrambled up simultaneously, and watched as the rest of the men piled in. An awkward stout of silence followed, and this so called Emmy, rose and met the boys first.

She had a firm grip, and introduced herself as their manager. The situation was humorous to say the least, these girls who could pass off as teenagers, were standing in single file in shame. The first was a beautiful girl with a large afro, and she kept a tight smile. She did not know who they were, nor did she really care. She introduced herself as Wren.

Next, was a taller woman, who seemed a hint older, with large winged eyeliner. She was Vida. Jin's first instinct was that she reminded him of him, she was definitely the oldest. Then, a smaller girl with a thick smile and soft curls was next. Soft hands, gentle grip. Her name was Malorie.

The last, was a young woman with blonde hair. Realistically, she didn't have any defining features besides her hair, she was the average American-looking girl. She introduced herself as Metzi, and to their surprise, bowed.

"It's really nice to meet you guys," Emmy let out a soft chuckle, and Namjoon nodded tightly. "Are you performing tonight?" It was Malorie who had asked, a soft question. "Yes, actually,"

"I heard you are as well," Namjoon replied, hoping to end the small talk quickly. "Yes we are! I'm surprised you've heard of us, I mean we're not huge."

She wasn't lying, but they definitely weren't small, either. Sixth biggest girlgroup of all time by album sales just behind TLC. Thirtieth on the most followed Spotify artist. Their debut album was certified Gold in six countries. Humble was the key to success, though.

"I'm not sure how big they are in the States, but aren't they pretty well known in Korea?" Yoongi spoke, but of course he wasn't talking to the girls, he was talking to his bandmates. He also spoke in Korean, which is why he nearly had a heart attack when a very feminine voice responded in Korean as well.

"We're big in Korea? I knew we were pretty well known in Japan, but I never really knew about that," It was the blonde one, Metzi. All seven members were in shock, the way she spoke it so effortlessly. If she didn't look the way she did, she could pass off as Native Korean by language alone.

"I know South Korea is very conservative and insistent upon how they operate things, and we're probably the farthest thing from it. I just was under the impression that we didn't fit the mold to do well there," Metzi continued talking, and Wren, Vida and Malorie had absolutely no clue what was going on or being discussed.

Had this been in Spanish, all the girls could have participated. Metzi just insisted on learning Korean, though.

They didn't seem too bothered, though, instead more humored.

"She's been waiting to use that one, huh?" Vida whispered, laughing lightly. "You're not wrong, Korea is known to be very conservative, however, that doesn't mean you have to fit stereotypes to break Korea or any other Asian country for that matter," Namjoon spoke in English this time, and finally the other three girls got a whiff of the conversation.

"We are the farthest thing from ideal boy-groups in America, and we broke it for the most part. Obviously a lot of it is due to our fan base, but point still stands." Seokjin broke in, the conversation now half Korean, half English.

"Good to know," Metzi said softly, a grin on her face.

"How did you learn Korean?" Taehyung spoke up in curiousity, and crinkled his eyes. "I started learning a few years ago before we kind of blew up, and when we visited Korea a few times, I just picked it up a bit. Still a lot I don't know, but I can speak pretty fluently now."

Taehyung nodded in understanding, silently applauding her ability to simply pick up on a language. He doesn't think he will ever gain fluency in English, no matter how hard he'd try. It was a lot harder than he imagined it to be.

"I'm gonna be honest, from media portrayals you guys are made out to be asshats, but you seem pretty down to Earth. Nice to know the fame doesn't get to your head, you know?"

Now it was Wren speaking, and a few snickers sounded from Jungkook and Jimin's mouth. "Asshat," Jimin repeated softly, and they broke into more laughter.

"We appreciate that, thank you. Ignore them," Hoseok spoke this time, a large smile adorning his face. "We will watch your performance tonight, and cheer you on."

"Ditto," Metzi responded in English this time, and Hobi's eyes crinkled in confusion. "Same to you," she clarified in Korean, and he nodded.

They said their goodbyes, and Metzi told all the girls to bow. Namjoon and Vida had a brief talk, and it was no time before BTS and WB were now separate, discussing the events that had just taken place.

The talk of the night was the mysterious blonde girl who spoke fluent Korean.

taglist: @princessoftheroad <3

#kth #kim taehyung #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung x oc #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fic #bts x oc #perrie edwards #little mix #min yoongi #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #park jimin

38 notes · View notes

im-whatchamccallit · 5 years ago

Text

When They’re Jealous//ATEEZ

A/N: An attempt was made lol

Hongjoong

“This sounds incredible!” You couldn’t stop smiling as you listened to the song you had just finished recording, your producer doing as you asked and not auto-tuning your voice like the previous ones had.

You were making your comeback album and needed a new producer immediately, one that understood you were talented without vocal enhancements and could respect that, but all of them ignored you and only followed what they thought sounded right, causing the general public to mock you as an artist. But then you met Jihoon, or Woozi as he wanted you to call him. He was an excellent composer and an even greater producer, having a great ear for music that he even helped you find your range, something your vocal coaches even ignored or struggled with.

You were enjoying the moment until you felt your phone vibrate erratically, your heart sinking into your stomach as you read Hongjoong’s name from the screen. You excused yourself from Woozi as he continued to touch up on a few songs. He was always so immersed in his work.

“Joong,” You breathed out once you removed yourself from the room to drown out the noise inside.

“Hey. I came by your apartment so we could eat dinner together but I forgot you said you’ll be at the studio tonight. You mind unlocking the door for me once I get there?”

“I-uh-how about we go to the cafeteria upstairs? People get mad when we bring food in the studio anyways.” You said, biting on your bottom lip in hopes he would agree, but you knew that was too much to ask.

“I’ll make sure we clean up well this time. Besides, I wanna help out on a few of your songs.” You wanted to cry at this point, knowing there was nothing stopping Hongjoong from walking into his worse nightmare.

“O-okay. I’ll leave the door open for you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll be there soon, love you.” You gave a small ‘I love you’ before hanging up, rushing back into the room only to be met with a soothing melody played on the studio provided keyboard, but it didn’t ease your anxiety.

“Woozi, listen, you need to go before Hongjoong gets here.” You said bluntly, watching as his fingers stopped before looking at you, his eyes filling with worry at the sight of your own panicked expression, your bottom lip close to bleeding from how hard you were biting it.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I just can’t have him know you’re here. Please, you just need to trust me-“

“Is Hongjoong hurting you, (Y/n)?” Woozi asked with genuine concern and a hint of outrage.

“No, but he’ll hurt you if he knows your my producer so you need to-“

“(Y/n/n)…”

You turned around and tried to hide your fear with a large smile, Hongjoong staring at you with an almost pained expression that made you let out a small whimper despite your seemingly casual appearance.

“Hongjoong! This is Woozi. He’s a-“

“Producer, I know. So you helped on (Y/n)’s album?” Hongjoong stated with a bitter yet monotonous voice, handing you the large bag of takeout before making his way into the room and taking a seat next to Woozi, your heart ringing in your ears as you watched them interact.

Hongjoong was always begging you to collab with him on a song or album. You could just picture his smile as he talked about how he’d listen to it over and over again, reminding himself that, even though your relationship wasn’t allowed by your company and he wasn’t able to show the world how great you were together, he’d be able to say you were great together as musicians and collaborators. But you crushed those dreams by asking Woozi to help with your album instead.

Hongjoong couldn’t deny he was hurt, and maybe even a bit jealous. Woozi was an amazing composure and producer, but so was he. Did you think he wasn’t good enough and that’s why you didn’t ask for his help? Or maybe it’s because you always liked Woozi better. Hongjoong recalled all the times your absentmindedly praised the older male’s musical abilities, a mixture of anger and self-doubt consuming him as he gave half-assed comments on the tracks Woozi played from your upcoming release. They were perfect, and that only made Hongjoong feel worse.

It took some time for you to regain your composure as you set the food down and stood beside Hongjoong, listening to him give a bit of critique to your title track, praising it despite his entire demeanor showing he was less than pleased with the situation.

“I’m gonna head home now to give you two some space. You need me to come by tomorrow to work on that bonus track?” Woozi asked while packing up his belongings.

“No, that’s fine. Thanks again for today.”

You both watched as he finally left, the tension in the air nearly suffocating you as you tried to find the words to say.

“He’s a great producer. Glad he helped with your album.” The tone of his voice was so defeated and sad, the small sigh you released doing nothing to relax your tense body.

“I wanted to ask you but you were already focused on Ateez stuff.”

“I would’ve made time for you.” He finally looked at you, his gaze soft despite the painful thumping in his chest fueled at the thought you went to another man for help. It almost felt like he was just cheated on.

“That would’ve been the most selfish thing for me to do and you know it. But look,“

You walked around to the seat Woozi previously occupied, finding the notebook you kept for all of your songs and picking out a loose sheet of paper. It looked a bit faded and old but you could read the lyrics perfectly.

“I wanted to make a bonus track that’d be released before the album and, considering we wrote it together, I thought it’d be wrong of me to have Woozi work on it.”

Hongjoong gently grabbed the sheet and read over the page that had strange doodles in the header and margins, a small smile appearing on his lips. He wrote this for you as a confession while he was still a trainee, giving it to you as a birthday gift before you returned it with drawings and extra lyrics added, you both going back and forth like lovesick kids until both sides of the page were filled.

“Are you doing this to pity me?”

“I’m doing this because you’re a great producer with amazing talent that will make this song better than I could ever imagine.” Despite your words being genuine, he felt you were only telling him what he wanted to hear. And he was okay with that.

“Alright, should we get started now?” He asked eagerly, moving to the keyboard to find a perfect melody for the love song.

“Let’s eat first. I’m starving.”

“Nope. With me it’s business first, leisure second.” He said with a nonchalant yet peppy tone, your body sinking into the seat as you realized he alone would go days without a meal until he perfected a song, so there’s no telling what you’ll have to endure with him. Maybe you should’ve stuck with Woozi on this one.

Seonghwa

You couldn’t read him at all. He was smiling like usual but his eyes were somehow narrowed with a glare. His body was so relaxed yet the arm around your waist was holding you into his side so tightly. And his voice; he was holding a conversation like normal yet sounded so sarcastic and bitter.

You could never pinpoint Seonghwa’s jealousy, he was a master at hiding it. But he knew when it kicked in, especially with the way your work husband, as he introduced himself, came rushing towards you with a bear hug during your company’s recent office party. He knew there’d be someone at the office interested in you, it’s hard not love someone so kind and energetic. But he also had to make a point of you being his, and what better way to do that than with class?

“Every day I come in, (Y/n) manages to make it better. It kinda bummed me out when you told me you were with someone, cause I would’ve had you for myself by now.” You coworker joked with a laugh, you and Seonghwa returning the laughter before the same arm around you tightened once more and you were certain you’d pop any second now.

“Well, let’s just consider you unlucky, right?” Seonghwa’s joke left an uncomfortable silence between you three, your eyes going between him and your colleague.

“I think (Y/n)’s incredible, sweet, talented. I’d say you’re a hard worker but that’s pretty obvious since you practically live at your office, right?” Seonghwa continued, facing you as you tried to make sense of what he was thinking and feeling, slowly piecing it all together with his little rant.

“But I think the greatest thing about you is that you’re mine and mine alone, and no work husband could ever compare to your real one.”

“My what?!” You snapped out of your trance as your coworker finally spoke up, apologizing if his comments made either of you uncomfortable, your head shaking frantically as he excused himself.

He was the only fun person you worked with that was around your age, everyone else in their 30s or 40s and having no time to joke around. His presence made your job bearable, and now you probably lost that thanks to the passive aggressive fool next to you.

“Why would you make up a lie like that? I should’ve known you were just jealous from the start.” You grumbled, wanting to remove yourself from his arms and apologize to the man that would usually give you a coffee with a joke written on the cardboard sleeve.

You gasped as you were pulled back once more, not too harsh but enough to make you turn and face Seonghwa, staring down at you in such an intimidating yet passionate way. It was scary yet exciting.

“I didn’t lie at all. You’re mine just like I’m yours and, we may not be married now, but it’ll happen soon.” He clarified, standing upright and looking away from you as a familiar smirk played on his lips.

“And I never get jealous, you know that.” Liar.

Yunho

Jealousy wasn’t something Yunho typically felt, but when he felt it, it hit him hard.

He wasn’t sure why he was so jealous, you were only talking to an old friend, one that you introduced him to as your “first crush”. But those feelings were from years ago, you were with Yunho now so there shouldn’t be a problem. Until he remembered he was also your crush at one point, you pining after him for two years until he caught on and accepted your feelings. If you could wait that long for Yunho, who knows how long you’d wait for this guy.

You were in a public space, walking alongside one another in the park Yunho always took you when he was stressed from work and practice, but this situation was just as stressful. Yunho felt like a kicked puppy at the way you gave all your attention to someone you haven’t seen in years and, from the sounds of it, had nothing in common with anymore, just fond memories. He didn’t want to start pouting because he’d be too obvious about his envy, his eyes rolling whenever you laughed at a lame joke he said. Seriously, he wasn’t that funny.

“Yunho, I forgot to ask what you did for work.” The other man, Chris, spoke up, causing Yunho to finally give him his attention.

“(Y/n) and I work together. I’m an idol while they’re our makeup artist.”

“Makeup artist? I can’t believe that’s still your dream job after these years. Congrats.” Chris smiled down at you before reaching to place his hand on your head, ruffling your hair as you let out a cute faux-whine and that was the last straw for Yunho.

You gasped as you were suddenly spun around, crashing into your boyfriend’s chest as he held onto you tightly, trying to hide his glare as he looked to a shocked Chris.

“Sorry but I just reminded myself we’ve been on break too long and I have to get back now.”

“Oh, well (Y/n) and I can hang out while you head bac-“

“No.”

You barely managed to give a proper apology and goodbye to Chris as Yunho dragged you off in the opposite direction, your body fighting against his until he released you, only to grab onto your hand with a gentle yet iron-tight grip. You’ve only seen this side of Yunho once before, and it was when you first began dating, the head makeup artist being a male that you had to give your undivided attention to in order to learn properly.

The lack of eye contact, the way his lips formed a pout despite him licking them occasionally to erase it or at least hide the fact it was there only to have it come back deeper than before, and the stand-offish yet clingy affection he gave you, almost as if he was angry at you but desperate for you to comfort him. He was jealous, and it was honestly amusing.

“You know, you have to stop getting jealous like that.”

“I’m not jealous.” He said bluntly, a small giggle leaving your mouth.

“Okay, sure. I bet you were fine with the fact Chris kept calling me his ‘love’ too, right?”

“When did he say that?!” You couldn’t stop the laughter leaving you at his outburst, ceasing his steps to face you with a devastated look.

“I’m sorry, I was only kidding, I just love how cute you get when you’re jealous.”

“I was jealous that you weren’t including me in your conversation. Him calling you love is just disrespectful to our relationship.” He clarified, your head nodding understandingly.

“Well, that doesn’t matter because he’s not my type.” You paused to kiss the hand holding onto yours, looking at Yunho’s face with a small smile.

“I prefer giant crybabies.”

Yeosang

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you stood alongside Park Bo Gum in the makeshift apartment on set, your heartbeat ringing in your ears as you watched him recite his lines for the third time that night. Sure, he was probably annoyed and exhausted because you could only stare at him in absolute admiration which led to you forgetting your own lines, but the words he spoke never got old to you. The character he was playing was confessing to you, something a rookie actor like yourself could only take to heart, especially when the man opposite of you was your celebrity crush.

But that only made Yeosang stand far behind the camera sulking. Seeing as you were always so excited after the end of filming each day, Yeosang took it upon himself to come watch you, only to realize this was the cause of your joy. When you said the leading actor for the upcoming drama was a ‘surprise’, he didn’t think you meant Park Bo Gum, yet here he was: staring down at you with soft eyes and a toothy smile that made Yeosang want to roll his own.

After various attempts, you final managed to deliver your lines, you and the slightly older male ending the day with a seconds long kiss that would be edited to last an eternity, the entire cast and crew relieved that you got it together so they can wrap up and go. Yeosang couldn’t help the way his face burned with irritation as he swallowed his jealousy, it always happened when he did. He also couldn’t help how cold he was acting as you approached him with a large smile.

“Did I do well? Did you like it?” You asked hopefully, Yeosang slowly cracking at the nervous and childlike gaze you gave him, a sigh leaving his lips as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Yeah, you did really great, sweetie.”

“(Y/n)!”

Yeosang’s bitter scowl came back as Bo Gum approached, his typical smile planted on his face and the poor boy couldn’t help but admit he was a real life prince. No wonder you could barely speak in front of him.

“Sunbaenim!” You greeted, bowing politely before gesturing to the obviously angry man next to you.

“This is my boyfriend, Yeosang.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you. (Y/n) talks about you all the time.”

You watched as he kindly extended his hand, Yeosang’s eyes staring at it pathetically before drifting upwards to glare at your elder, a shocked gasp leaving you as you apologized to the equally shocked, but honestly amused, actor.

“I’m so sorry. He’s a bit socially awkward outside of his performances so you’ll have to excuse him.”

“It’s fine, I get that way sometimes. But you did great today, don’t forget to practice more when you get home.”

You nodded and watched as he strolled away to return the outfit used for today’s filming, your head snapping to your boyfriend’s unbothered figure.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You just disrespected Park Bo Gum! Are you insane?”

“Stop talking about him like he’s some god. He’s just like anyone else.”

“Even if he is, that doesn’t excuse you being rude.”

You huffed as you walked away from him, the crew and director putting their items away as he stood awkwardly with his arms crossed over his chest, upset but still willing to wait for you to collect your items so he could take you home. You didn’t know why he acted like such an angry brat when he was jealous, but you could understand that you having a romantic scene with someone you’ve admired for years would obviously be an ego killer for him. You couldn’t help that you put Bo Gum on a pedestal, it was the fangirl in you. But your boyfriend was just as famous and meant even more to you, so why weren’t you treating him the same?

Yeosang heard your timid footsteps stop just in front of him although he refused to look at you, your arms wrapping around his torso as you pried his own apart with your head so he could hold you properly, staring up at him with a pout.

“Stop being angry with me.” You tried to say in your cutest voice, Yeosang trying hard not to break his sour puss persona.

“Act cute all you want, but I think Bo Gum would probably like it way more than I do.”

“I’m too young for him. Besides, he probably doesn’t like weirdos like me.”

You felt two warm hands cup your face before squishing your cheeks together, making your pout more prominent and fish-like, Yeosang finally smiling as he playfully tilted your head from side to side.

“Yeah, you are pretty weird.”

Everything seemed fine and well for you two again, especially when he leaned forward to plant a small kiss to your lips, only to retract instantly with his previous stone-faced expression.

“You didn’t wipe your mouth after he kissed you, did you?” Your eyes widened in realization just after he released you, turning on his heels to walk away only for your body immediately follow his, preparing to fix things once again.

“Wait, I forgot to! I didn’t leave it on purpose! Yeosang!”

San

It all happened last night: San taking you out to dinner, the waiter flirting with you heavily, you giggling in a mixture of awkwardness and flattery, and San biting back his jealousy. All of that was last night, so why the hell was San romancing the hell out of you now?

You watched carefully as he maneuvered himself around the dorm’s dining room table, standing at your side as he cut your steak for you and even opted to feed you, his eyes staring into yours lovingly as you chewed although you were starting to feel a bit overwhelmed, finally bringing yourself to look away.

“Shouldn’t you take a seat and eat as well? I feel weird having you do this for me.”

“Nonsense. I’d rather starve before I learn you haven’t had your meal first.” Your eyes widened at his words, staring at him in disbelief as he eagerly held another piece of meat to your lips.

The jealous San you knew was pouty and clingy, but this one was suave and charming, making your heart skip a beat whenever he looked at you. But you could tell he had some impure motive behind this, most of your instincts telling you he wasn’t just spontaneously feeling enamored.

“Well, I can’t take another bite knowing you aren’t eating either. Please eat, Sannie.”

He gave a small smile before setting your utensils down and pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, making his way back to his own seat where he didn’t even look at his food, just stared back at you with the same gaze as before. You mentally groaned, knowing this would be a long night.

And, by god, it was.

From the painfully uncomfortable dinner, to the way he held your hands and complimented you as he presented a necklace with his name on it, to the way you slow danced in the center of their dorm. You just couldn’t handle it. But you still allowed him to sway your bodies together as he held the same joy on his face, almost oblivious to the fact you wanted to push him away, a simple sentence leaving him that made you snap.

“I just want you to know that there’s no other man in this world that’ll treat you like I do.”

You glared up at San before removing yourself from his grasp, walking towards his phone placed on the nearby table and turning off the music he had playing before returning to stand in front of him.

“Listen, it took some time for me to figure out you were jealous, but to go through all of this? You’ve clearly lost it.”

“I just want to show you how much-“

“You love me? Because this ain’t it, San. You just wanted to one-up a waiter that I laughed at because I was uncomfortable and wanted him to leave me alone.” His eyes widened at your words.

“So you didn’t like him talking to you?”

“Hell no. I was hoping you’d do something besides sit in your corner having a pity party. Now, here we are, in the middle of your dorm slow dancing while you’re in slacks and a dress shirt and I’m still in my pajamas. And we both know Seonghwa made that steak, so don’t take credit for it.” You’ve said so much already yet your rant didn’t end there.

“I think the worse part of all of this is that I asked you for this necklace when we started dating last year, and to finally receive it under these circumstances makes me not even want to wear it. I honestly prefer your usual whiny self to this.”

A brief silence, your hard gaze boring into his shocked one, neither of you knowing want to expect next until San acted first, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you into him with a whimper.

“You promise you didn’t like him more than me?” You couldn’t help but smile and place a comforting hand on his back. This was your San.

Mingi

He felt so childish and stupid for being jealous, but how could he not be when his own partner was sitting on his lap but giving all of their attention to Hongjoong.

He was happy you were getting along with his group members, but hearing how you laughed and talked with his elder, your body perking up at every word he said, your conversations dragging on as you discussed your shared interest, something you and Mingi struggled to do as you were totally different people, his eyes widening whenever you mentioned a new fact about your life. He sat back and silently wondered if you preferred Hongjoong over him, if you ever wonder what he’d be like as a boyfriend. His thoughts were so negative, only growing grimmer and sadder with each scenario playing through his mind, his arms loosening from around your waist as he abruptly stood, your lips no longer moving as you stopped your conversation to check on the giant leaving you.

You followed him into the kitchen silently, his back to you as he rummaged through the fridge, not wanting to see or talk to you as of yet.

“I was gonna head out to eat soon, wanna come?”

“Why not go with Hongjoong?” He muttered, not being able to help that the snarky response slipped out.

“Because the main person I want to be with right now is my boyfriend.” You were met with silence, causing you to sigh and desperately grab onto his arm until he finally faced you.

“Mingi, what’s wrong?”

“Do you like Hongjoong? Like, are you interested in him?”

The laugh you let out was loud enough to cause Hongjoong to questioningly glance towards your direction although he couldn’t see you, your body doubled over as you tried to ease your hysteria.

“Holy fuck, no. What makes you think that?”

“You two just have a lot in common and get along a lot better than we do.” You sighed and reached down to grasp his hands, staring into his eyes despite him shyly looking away, obviously still battling with his insecurities.

“Hongjoong is a great friend, but I’d be so bored with him. I like to talk about our hometown, and how we both love Iron Man films, sure, but you’re always teaching me new things and increasing my hobbies. Remember how I didn’t like rap before you? Now I love it! And it’s because I chose someone I can stay with forever and learn something new about every day.”

You felt your lips tug upwards as he finally looked at you, unable to contain his smile as he pulled you into him, a light squeal leaving you as you held one another in a tight embrace. As much as Mingi wanted to scream to Hongjoong that he won, having you choose him and only him, he stayed silent and mentally celebrated his victory.

Wooyoung

Unbeknownst to you, Wooyoung liked to make you jealous. He found it cute when you shoved his arm and told him to stop being so flirty with other people, only to apologize and remind you that you were his one and only. It was a stupid and silly cycle he loved. But the second you started being cute and flirty with anyone else, hell broke loose.

You didn’t know you were coming off flirty, thinking you were your typically friendly self as you spoke with a fellow idol, congratulating them for their win on tonight’s music show and praising their talent. Sure, he gave a few winks and flirtatious remarks here and there, even stepping closer to you as you continued to converse in the backstage area, you completely unaware of the angry body quickly approaching yours, but Minho catching onto his presence quickly.

“Wooyoung! You did great tonight.” The older star said, Wooyoung giving a curt smile and nod, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you to face him, your eyes wide and cheeks burning at the sudden action.

“Same to you. I’m just upset our song wasn’t part of this week’s voting, we would’ve won thanks to my good luck charm here.” If your face wasn’t bright red before, it surely was now, not used to Wooyoung being this touchy in front of others.

Minho’s eyes widened as he finally realized the situation, bowing respectfully and apologizing for not realizing you two were together, your hands gently pushing Wooyoung to pry him off, not liking the way he stared at you with amusement and an almost predatory glint.

“A lot of people don’t know about us, and I think it’s because I’ve never gotten them a necklace or something to show they’re taken. But I think I have a better alternative.” You gulped as you once again tried to escape, knowing exactly where this was going.

“Wooyoung, don’t you dar-“ You were cut off by your own whimpers, eyes shutting in embarrassment as Wooyoung latched his lips onto your throat, sucking harshly and squeezing your body closer to his.

You knew how Wooyoung got when he was jealous, he was possessive and willing to do such risky things to show whoever was entranced by your natural beauty and presence that you were his and only his, and that a simple touch from him would prove that true as you only craved more.

You released a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding as he finally pulled away, admiring the purple and red mark stained onto your neck before finally giving Minho a glance, the other boy staring at you both in what you could only assume was embarrassment and shock.

“Now, I’m gonna head home. You can come with if you don’t feel like staying out too long, okay? Congrats on that win again.”

Wooyoung went back to his usually cute self, kissing your cheek and casually turning away to stroll from the room filled with a few forgotten people that took in the scene, your bottom lip being sucked into your mouth before bowing and apologizing profusely and rushing out the door. Not because you were mortified, but because you needed to catch up with Wooyoung, unsure if you wanted to yell at him for humiliating you or finish what he started.

Jongho

As a barista, your job was to provide excellent customer service and, not to brag, but you were beyond excellent. Your friendly smile and bubbly personality made it impossible for people not to gravitate towards you, leaving you in a loop of minutes long conversations about nothing with each and every customer while also serving them with their order. Seriously, you were basically perfect.

That kind of perfection is what caused Jongho to fall for you, coming by your shop every day for the same drink just to have more conversations about nothing, and you enjoyed his companionship, your typical work related jokes becoming personal rants that he happily listened to, loving how you both finally grew closer to one another. Of course, he hadn’t asked you out yet, but that was his main and only goal for the day as he entered the small shop. Until he realized you were giving the same undivided attention you gave him to someone else.

They were the only customer as it hasn’t hit peak hours yet, you both sitting at a table just by the window, your head tilted as you listened closely to his words, nodding along as he smiled softly and spoke. Jongho didn’t want to intrude but he was curious. What did this man possess that was similar to or, worse, better than him? The light giggles you occasionally let out didn’t put him at ease either. This man really must be something.

“You’ve honestly really made this day better, (Y/n/n). Seeing you doing well on your own is making this moving thing a lot easier on me.”

His hand, reaching across the table to hold onto yours, brushing his thumb over your skin as you stared ahead giving a shy laugh and smile. Your body shivered as a strange chill ran down your spine, your body feeling stiff and tense as if something was looming behind you menacingly and, once you turned to invalidate your suspicions, you let out a loud yelp that they were true.

“Jongho! I can’t believe I didn’t hear you come in! Come on, let me make your usual.” You said cheerfully while standing from your seat, only for the stone faced boy to ignore you, eyes boring into the man he still had no idea about, but a lot of opinions of.

“You must be Jongho. (Y/n) talk a lot about you.”

“That’s good to hear, since they don’t mention you at all.”

You stood there with wide eyes, blinking away your disbelief before hurriedly looking towards the male, apologizing profusely much to Jongho’s dismay. The unidentified man took the hint that there was a bit of tension from his presence and decided to leave, avoiding giving you a hug as he usually would. As soon as he was out of sight, you crossed your arms, ready to give Jongho a piece of your mind until he cut you off.

“Don’t let anyone else touch you. Or look at you. Especially when you smile because that makes them want to talk to you more.” He stared at you with a small pout and round puppy like eyes.

“And since when have you become my boyfriend?”

“Since now.”

Quite honestly, this was the coldest confession you’ve ever received, but it made your face heat up all the same, a playful smirk making its way onto your face as you approached the still pouty and jealous boy.

“I think I can accept that, as long as you direct your jealousy to someone that isn’t my brother.”

The realization and embarrassment that crossed his face was an instant pass to your forgiveness.

283 notes · View notes

that-good-trash · 5 years ago

Text

Please Don’t Go

Bakugou x reader / Kirishima x reader

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, self harm, angst, heartbreak

Word count: 8.3K

Summary: Sometimes things happen that you wish you could change,fix, but you can’t. Instead you are left suffering with broken pieces and suffering worse than you’ve ever dealt with. The person you wish was helping you keeps hurting you while the person you didn’t know you needed is holding you together.

Comment: I just really like angst since it seems to be the only thing I can write recently. I guess I’m kinda stuck in a sad rut myself. I hope you all enjoy it.

PS. Also thank you all for 100 followers! I love all of you and you all matter!

*********************************

“It is 3 in THE GOD DAMN MORNING, WHAT THE HELL COULD YOU POSSIBLY WANT FROM ME!”

“Morning Katsu, have you ever thought about the stars and how they always exist but we can only see them at night.”

“…”

“Katsu…”

The sound of a single click could be heard. You stare at your phone for a moment knowing that he had hung up on you. You sigh laying your head back down on your pillow. You knew that you should have told him the real reason you had called but couldn’t find the strength to do so. Your ‘boyfriend’ if you could actually call him wasn’t the type to listen to your nonsense. You didn’t mean to beat around the bush, you wanted to get to the point when it came to conversation. It was hard for you to tell people what was really going on inside your brain. Bakugou Katsuki had a way of letting you know when he was irritated with your run around way of speaking.

You can’t fall asleep because of the thoughts swirling around in your head. You had the pressure of millions of gallons of water on your chest and head. You wondered if this is what a submarine feels as it dives deeper into the darkness of the ocean. Your eyes were still red and hadn’t gotten a chance to fully dry. Crying was something that you tended to do a lot prior to recent events that lead to your current state. Now your tears hurt more than usual. You couldn’t figure out if they hurt because you had been rubbing your eyes frantically or because of the circumstance in which they were there to begin with. A sniffle followed by the sound of your own choked sob breaks the silence of the room. Your crying again, alone. You alone crying holding so much pain and loss.

***********

“Y/n will not be in class today, again.”

My Aizawa gave class 1A the heads up before turning back toward the board to talk about today’s itinerary. The class wouldn’t have had any reason to worry had this been the first absence. However, this was absence number three and you hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts. Actually, the only person who has actually claimed to have seen you was their teacher. No one had seen or heard from you in the days you had been missing. Over the weekend you had left the dorms to return to your actual home because of reasons that escaped everyone’s knowledge and you hadn’t returned yet. It was beginning to worry everyone especially those that had grown to fond and close to you. Midoriya was twiddling with his fingers and mumbling words of worry under his breath. Your name had passed through everyone’s lips as they questioned your lack of presence in school.

“Hey Bakugou, what’s going on with Y/n?”

Kaminari, whose voice is lacking its usual cheer, chimes in behind the angry blonde. Bakugou growls in response but doesn’t actually say anything. Kaminari puts his tray of food down on the table next to Kirishima who looks a mix between angry and tired. Before Kaminari had walked up Kirishima had been trying to get information out of Bakugou as well. Bakugou had snapped at the red head that he ‘DIDN’T KNOW SHIT’. Kirishima was having a hard time believing his best friend but at the same time he knew how little Bakugou actually tried to be in your life so it made sense if the agitated boy was telling the truth.

“Dude, for real though, Y/n has missed a lot of school. I hope she’s okay.”

Kaminari was just trying to give his honest feelings but that didn’t sit well with Bakugou who slammed his hands down in frustration. He never got the chance to speak since Mina and Sero had come to the table restating the previous concerns that everyone in class had been having. Bakugou, in a fit of anger, throws his uneaten food away before storming out of the cafeteria.

“What the heck crawled up his ass and died.” Sero looks at Mina who spoke up with her own irritation. She and you were really close. She loved you like you were her own sibling and wanted so badly for you to answer her messages. She was not as understanding as the boys in the squad and found Bakugou’s behavior childish. She sits down with a sigh trying to calm herself down. Sero squeezes her shoulder reassuringly.

**********

While, your concerned classmates continued their school day, you laid on the couch of your empty home. The only thing keeping you from breaking down for the hundredth time was the purring cat curled up against your lap. Your fingers trailed along her fur as the familiar warmth tried to keep you stable. Your mother had told you, before she left to work, that you couldn’t miss any more days of school and tomorrow you would return to the loud energetic halls of UA. Just the idea of going back in this state made you sick to your stomach. You have to swallow down the acid rising out of your throat.

As you lay on the couch your phone chimes again. They are a persistent class but you are spiraling into a hard depression. You already struggle with depression but never made it obvious so people wouldn’t be bothered or feel like they have to ‘help’ you. Now you were gone, in a world different from everyone else. You had wondered if you had the fare if you would find the ferrymen Charon and request, he take you away. You’d rather be whisked away by a mythological Grim then face another day with this horrible pain. You had never felt more alone than you did now. You didn’t care about the messages that came to your cellphone because none of them were from the person you needed it to be from. You let your eyes close and the moment that brought you to these horrid thoughts and feelings beginnings replaying.

**************

“Hey mom I was just about to go watch a movie with some classmates, what’s up.” You hadn’t expected a call from your mother. She usually just texted you. A call meant something serious usually so you were already on edge before her words put you over the edge.

“You need to come home.” Those are never good words unless they come from a parent who just misses her child which definitely wasn’t your mother.

“What? Why?”

“Something has happened, I’d rather tell you in person.”

You had never heard you mother sound so blank and yet had concern laced in her voice. You had grown worried with what could have had happened. You would never had imagined what really did transpire. You had left the dorms with permission from Aizawa seeing as it was already late. You heart was racing as you said goodbye to your friends before leaving. The way home felt longer than usual but you eventually made it home. Your mother and you sat in silence for ages before she told you. No beating around the bush, she was always blunt and straight to the point.

“Your friend from middle school, F/n. She’s dead.”

The words hadn’t even settled into your mind before the tears came rushing out of your eyes. Your own body reacted before you could. This was something you fought mentally. There was no way that she was dead. You couldn’t imagine her gone. This was all wrong and you were waiting for your mother to admit this was some sort of sick joke. It wasn’t a joke and she wasn’t laughing. She looked sad, not for the death but for her daughter. She was feeling sadness for you. You shook your head over and over but she nodded to reassure you this was real life. You had indeed lost your middle school best friend. Your mother went on to hand you a box of tissues before giving you the more gruesome parts of the story.

“Your friend didn’t just die. She killed herself. She had gashes going up her arms from a knife that was found near her bathtub. She had used her quirk to weigh her body under the water and essentially, she drown herself before she could bleed to death. Her mother found her and was announced DOA. I’m sorry Y/n. I realize this is more than you’d like to hear but it is good to help you understand that she was sick. I told you this before that she…”

The words your mother spoke faded away. You couldn’t hear her over the sound of your screams that had begun to come out of your mouth. Your body shook violently and you ran to the bathroom to throw up. The taste of tears and bile lingered on your tongue long after you had stopped vomiting. Your mother brought you water and a towel as you sat on the bathroom floor. You kept picturing your dead friend with blood down her arms and water surrounding her. Had she cried? Did it hurt. Why the hell didn’t she reach out to you. You know you couldn’t say those things because middle school held you both together. You struggled with your physic and social anxiety while she struggled with everything about herself. You both were each other’s rock. You always complimented her and she beat up your bullies. After middle school you had gone to UA and she didn’t make the cut. You cried but she smiled and told you everything would be okay. Now she was dead and you couldn’t breathe. You mother was now on the floor holding you trying to get you to use your lungs which were betraying you. You just kept thinking about her bleeding to death in a hot bath while drowning at the same time. You had always expected to go to her graduation or her wedding one day, not her funeral. What didn’t help this situation was you had no one to talk to about her because she was a loner. You were alone with this pain even though you knew you had people you could seek comfort from. You didn’t feel like you deserved comfort while your former best friend was lying in a cold box at the hospital. You eventually had fallen asleep on the floor and your mother attempted to carry you to your bed. You woke up to the feeling of all the emotions hitting you all at once. As another panic attack came you reached for your phone hoping that your boyfriend had messaged asking if you were okay. He hadn’t. He hadn’t messaged at all. You called despite the time being close to two in the morning. After six rings he answered.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, I’M TRYING TO SLEEP. WHATEVER IT IS CAN FUCKING WAIT.”

You didn’t even get the chance to respond before he hung up leaving you in a worse broken lonely state. This news, this night had begun your spiral that lead to your current state of barely existing on your couch waiting for any form of death to take you.

***********

“Are you fucking serious!!!” Kirishima was yelling uncharacteristically at his best friend who was now wide eyed at the red heads lashing.

“You really haven’t tried talking to her? What kind of boyfriend, HELL what kind of friend does that? You told me she called you the nights he went home. Why the hell didn’t you let her speak!”

“MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS!”

Bakugou was now pissed, his quirk activating to prove just how upset he is. Kirishima doesn’t flinch when the first blast hits him. He’s already was one step ahead being used to having to use his quirk to defend against his friend’s attacks. He wasn’t going to hit back but found himself grabbing Bakugou’s wrist and throwing his arm down telling him to stop. Bakugou doesn’t like that and goes to attack once more but doesn’t get a chance before Kirishima’s fist makes contact with his face sending him backward with scrapes against his cheek due to the first having been hardened.

“You’re a lot of things Bakugou but I didn’t know you were so fucking heartless man. Y/n needs someone and you have chosen to ignore her. It doesn’t matter if she called you at ungodly times, she deserves your attention and respect.”

Bakugou is left with Kirishima’s words and disappointed look. Kirishima isn’t going to stand around. He had gotten your address from Mina who begged him to let her know how you were doing. She was too afraid to see you in case you were avoiding everyone on purpose. Kirishima was going to see you no matter what because that is the manly hero thing to do, hell that’s just the right thing to do.

***********

Your front door had never looked so menacing till Kirishima felt like he was intruding and felt panicked that he might have crossed a line. He had to shake the thoughts away, he couldn’t run away now. He was already here and he needed to make sure you were okay. A deep breath in and a knock on the door. He waited before knocking again. You opened your eyes and for a moment you thought that maybe Bakugou came over. Only a few select people knew your address and you knew it wasn’t going to be Mina or Midoriya since they had texting you telling you they’d give you space and not come by without your permission. That left one option. You threw open the door with tears already clouding your vision. It wasn’t what you expected or wanted; it was what you needed. Kirishima couldn’t even speak when he looked at you. His chest tightened and he wanted to cry. Your face had gotten thinner and you had bags under your eyes that were darker than Mr. Aizawa’s. Your hair was messy and your clothing was obviously pajamas. Your eyes were blood shot and he could see scratch marks all over your arms from your panic attacks. Kirishima wanted to do and say so many things in the moment but instead he did the one thing he thought you needed. He opened his arms and gave you a look of comfort. A sob escapes your lips as you run into Kirishima’s arms. You clung to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling into the darkness, and maybe he was. Your tears soaked his shirt but he didn’t scold you like Bakugou would have. Bakugou was weak to tears he hated them, while Kirishima wasn’t weak to them, he was standing here crying with you. He was sharing your sadness when he didn’t even know why you were sad. His arms held you tightly afraid that if he lets go your collapse. He waits till you’re ready to pull away. Eventually the tears run dry and you’re just standing there engulfed in Kirishima’s warmth. His body feels safe and you are thankful for his presence. You shuffle backward slightly causing his hold to loosen to let you move away.

“Would you like to come inside?”

You would have started with asking him why he was here but that was a stupid question. Anyone would be worried if their friend was MIA for almost five days. Kirishima smiles and your heart beats. You almost forgot that you had one of those. You walk inside and Kirishima shyly follows after you. He looks around the living room while standing in your doorway. It seems cold but he can’t decipher if that’s due to actual temperature or because he can tell this is where you’ve spent a lot of your time crying. Tissues and a garbage can sit next to the couch which has two large blankets thrown over the side of it. There is a golden-brown furred cat stretching out before curling back into the abandoned warm spot left by you.

“Shoes.”

“What?”

Kirishima had been so focused on assessing his surroundings he hadn’t caught the first half of your words.

“You gotta take off your shoes.”

Duh, shoes. Kirishima wasn’t ill-mannered but in a situation where he is in an unfamiliar place with someone, he is very worried about he forgets the simplest things like removing your shoes. Once his shoes are off and guest slippers on his feet, he makes his way over to your side. You’ve now sat down on the couch pulling a large blanket over your shoulders while your fingers brush along the content looking cats’ fur. Kirishima doesn’t want to intrude so he chooses to stand, he waits for the right moment to ask why you are in such a state of disarray. He doesn’t want to be the one that speaks first. The silence is very heartbreaking since he knew that you, even when shy, were very charismatic. You always shined when you spoke about things you cared about. You also had a hidden spit fire personality that he was lucky enough to have witnessed a few times.

While waiting for you to speak he realizes that your head has dropped down more and he can hear the slightest hiccupping coming from you. He doesn’t hesitate to sit down and wrap an arm around your blanketed shoulder. He pulls you closer to himself letting your head hit his chest while his hand moves comforting circling into your arm. The blanket is thick but it doesn’t completely prevent you from feeling the gesture. You are torn between enjoying this and crying even harder. He is so patient with you and that makes your crying worsen since this wasn’t who you wanted to see which made you regret wanting Bakugou. Kirishima was always a good guy but now you had him holding you while you sobbed. Now he was the ultimate good guy, someone who has reached the highest level, a god tier of good.

“Kirishima, why are you here?”

You had originally avoided asking the stupid question but you had to. You had to know why Kirishima was wasting his time on you, even if he would tell you that you weren’t. Your words had come out broken because of your crying.

“Y/n, are you serious? I’m here because you need someone. You have missed class for three days causing everyone to go into a worried frenzy. I couldn’t take leaving you alone when I know that you are the kind to separate yourself from everyone to suffer alone. I’m here for you, to be here for whatever reason you need.”

You had begun crying worse because of Kirishima’s words. His eyes widen before he begins to internally panicking. He pulls away from you before gripping your shoulders and looking into your tear-filled eyes.

“Y/n did I say something wrong. I just don’t want you to be in pain because of me. I’d never come here with the intention of causing you more issues.”

You didn’t mean for it to happen but a laugh escapes your lips. You can’t help your sobs turning into giggles because Kirishima truly looked like he had hurt you. He looks even more concerned. You have to shake your head to try and prevent him from beating himself over your newfound insanity.

“No Kiri, you didn’t say anything wrong. You actually said what I needed to hear. I need someone with me right now but I also wanted to suffer alone. I caused myself more pain and anxiety by forcing myself to choose between isolation and comfort. You went ahead and made that decision for me. I’m crying because of your kindness and laughing because you honestly think you had done something wrong when you have never done anything bad to me. If anything, I noticed that whenever I need someone or something you are there to help or comfort me.”

Kirishima was relieved to hear that he hadn’t done anything to upset you. He would have kicked his own ass for hurting you since that was unmanly. Your laughter had made him confused but your explanation cleared it up. He now didn’t look confused but instead had a slight smile. He wasn’t happy but content. It was nice to be something you needed. A deep inner part of himself cursed Bakugou for not being here for you. However, another deep part of him was glad that it was him instead that was here with you. He knew how Bakugou was with emotions and tears, he didn’t do well with them. You were better off with Kirishima. This was a thought you both had shared without letting the other know.

While Kirishima is lost in thought about how to ask you what’s been troubling you, your body shifts on the couch getting more comfortable against him. He blushes slightly but let’s that fade because this is no time for unrequited love or crushes. This was about the pain you were suffering through. Your eyes close as a tiny yawn can be heard. You are once again exhausted and since you hadn’t felt comfortable enough to sleep earlier you hadn’t gotten any rest. Kirishima brought a feeling of safety and warmth you hadn’t felt since even before the horrid news. While your breathing began to steady you fell asleep. Kirishima gently moved his arm around your back to hold you closer to his chest. His hand behind your back began to rub gentle circles into your side. His other hand reached up and stroked your hair. The left side of your hair had a more course feeling to it and he knew why.

He had heard the story of how Bakugou had been calm enough holding you against him while stroking your hair. Though some classmates had come back to early and witnessed Bakugou being kind. They teased him not knowing the consequence you’d suffer. Bakugou had ignited his quirk without pulling his hand away which caused your hair to burn and the side of your face to erupt into hot excruciating pain. You had cried but also tried to tell Bakugou it was okay and not his fault which was stupid. He of course loudly agreed because it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been so close to him. The pain of his words was almost worse than the physical pain you had felt. You had to be rushed to recovery girl who was able to treat the burns to a certain extent. You had to shave the side of your hair to help keep the burn covered in ointment. You knew that despite his words Bakugou felt bed because every time he looked at you when he didn’t know you knew; he’d have a sad face full of regret. You’d remind him that it was okay and that you liked your hair shaved. He’d just tsk like he always did but you knew it meant something to know you didn’t blame or fear him.

Even knowing that his best friend hadn’t meant to hurt you he couldn’t help but hate him for it. Why couldn’t he just see you for the great wonder that you were. He could imagine your smile when he closed his eyes, his hand still rubbing your side. Your smile that glistened like stars, that laugh that would usual follow was interstellar. You were a celestial child too good for this world and mostly too good for Bakugou. You were suffering alone while the blonde wallowed in self-pity. Kirishima still had no idea what had happened to you but he was here no matter what it was. If you asked him to leave, he would because he cared about what you wanted. He was here for you and yet he still felt selfish. How could he pretend to know what you were going through? Except he wasn’t pretending, your exhausted demeaner and tear stained face gave away something bad had happened. He didn’t need to know why he just needed to hold you till you slept away the dark circles, till your eyes were no longer bloodshot but gleamed their gorgeous color.

“Katsuki.” The words were spoken in such a small broken voice with the slightest hint of hope. Maybe you wanted him to be someone else and maybe he would be just for you. Though Kirishima wouldn’t be him, anyone but the boy who chose training over his girlfriend. He held you tightly while using his free hand to catch a few of his own tears.

“I got you Y/n. I’m here, I’ll always be here.”

****************

“Kirishima…Kiri…Eijiro.” Kirishima smiled in his sleep, you were calling his name and he thought it was in his dream. A huge smile spread across his face while he rested. You were awake now, fully awake. When your eyes first opened you swore you were dreaming because Kirishima was holding you against himself while sleeping. You almost panicked when you realized you were awake and this was your actual classmate. You tried to pull away but his grip tightened. His hot breath against your face made you embarrassed, made your already warm body hotter.

“Y/n.” Feeling your name spoken against your ear drove you out of his grasp and onto the floor with a loud thud. The sound of you hitting the floor caught his attention, waking him up. You looked up from your spot on the ground and he looked down at you confused. Your face was red and your eyes avoid contact. A quick realization and Kirishima’s cheeks matched your own. He was quick to sit up off the couch, hands reaching down to help you up. You both looked away as you were pulled back into a standing position. You could feel your heart pounding and his hand was a little wet from sweat. He was still holding your hand. That changed when you both heard someone clear their throat. Your mom was standing in the doorway, she was obviously confused by the stranger in her living room. You pulled your hand away and looked down. Your mom wasn’t mean or judgmental, she was realistic and blunt. You expected her to comment about seeming fine or asking about your boyfriend. She remained quiet before switched shoes. She walked toward the two of you. Kirishima held out his hand after bowing in respect. “It’s nice to meet you Ms. L/n, I’m a classmate of your daughters, Eijiro Kirishima.”

“Y/n.” She shook Kirishima’s hand before looking at you. Your body was stiff. You had drifted into a painless sleep, actually got some rest, hadn’t thought about HER. Till now, you were almost numb and could breathe but looking at your mom you remembered the pain that had plagued you. Your chest was tight and you wanted the floor to swallow you up. Kirishima wasn’t dense, he felt the shift in the room. You were in excruciating mental pain when he came by earlier and now you were reverting back to that. His hand reached out grabbing yours again. Your mother looked between you both before directly at you.

“I spoke to F/n’s mom. They are having a service and I think it would be good for you to go.” Kirishima had no idea who she was talking about but the way your body stiffened before shaking this was a sensitive topic. What happened that made you like this? Your mother left you in the confused hands of the red head, who wished he had more to work with.

“Y/n… What happened.” You collapsed so fast that Kirishima almost couldn’t catch you. He was fast but not fast enough as your legs buckled and your whole top half crumbled onto the ground. Your face was red enough to match his eyes and your eyes were red enough to match his hair. You looked like a fish out of water gasping for hair while trying to find a way out of this. Desperation crossed your features. Anything was better than this pain, this loss. Your hiccupping drove Kirishima to his knees. His hands turned you gently till you were on your back. The sounds of your choked sobs, the way tears drift down your cheeks and into your splayed-out hair, the sporadic moment of your chest, it was all harrowing to witness. How could someone who always kept a smile on everyone’s face be so broken. He found himself crying with you, for you. His own tears falling onto your face before mixing in with your own and slipping down. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted too. You tried to speak but lacked oxygen enough to do so. Kirishima pulled your body upward holding you against him. Your chest pressed against his as he rubbed your back. He felt the wet pools against his shirt. He didn’t care that you cried on him. You hiccupped out an apology but it wasn’t necessary. You both stayed like this even as the sky outside darkened. Even when your mother yelled about dinner being ready. You still remained in Kirishima’s safe hold. He had his own dried tears and his hands never stopped soothing you. Eventually your words could slip out.

“My childhood friend committed suicide.” Kirishima stiffened. You spoke the words with so little emotion. Like you had cried away your sadness and was left numb again. He pulled you away so he could look into your bloodshot eyes. There were distant, like you were physically here but mental gone. You looked into his own bloodshot ones. He held all the sadness that you thought you lost. He held your pain for you and he had no idea what you were dealing with, he was truly empathetic. “She hurt herself and then she… she… she used her quirk to drown herself.”

The details didn’t matter because a dead girl was still a dead girl. Hell, a dead anyone was still someone who was dead and that itself was sad. The circumstances were cruel. It was like saying someone died fighting an awful fight, except they had fought themselves. A truly cruel disease depression is. Kirishima didn’t know what it felt like to want to die but he would never think less of someone who did. How could the world have such a negative sigma toward depression, maybe if it was normal then your friend would still be here. He blamed a cruel society and you blamed yourself. He realized looking at you that you felt responsible and for a moment he wished he could have told you how people are responsible for their own decisions but that wasn’t his place to comment. This wasn’t about him it was about your crumbling state of mind and your dead friend. You needed support and to hurt. This was necessary to heal.

“Tell me about her.” Your own mother wanted you to get over the pain like it hadn’t happened but here someone was, someone who owed you nothing, validating your loss wanting to know about your lonely friend. You smiled and yet the tears came back. You cried like a child who needed affection. You cried for your friend and her story. You were ready to tell him about her and you did. You spoke through sobs and Kirishima was patient. He listened to every painful part and every happy moment. He laughed at your inside jokes and cried at the painful abuse self-inflicted and household. Your friend was becoming a part of Kirishima’s thoughts as he filled it with your memories. He couldn’t believe that you were suffering alone with all this. Your own boyfriend not caring to listen or even check up on you.

“She sounds like a wonderful person and I’m so sorry that she is gone. I’m sorry that she left the way she did and I am sorry that you believe you contributed to this. Y/n, I know it won’t change anything but you didn’t do this. You can’t blame yourself or think about all the things that could have been done. Right now, you can only mourn and remember her for who she was and not who you could have made her. I didn’t know her but I know you and I don’t want to lose you because you waste away from guilt. Go to the service and say goodbye because she deserves that, but also live your life for her.” If words could truly heal people than Kirishima would have mended all these mental wounds for you. You would have smiled and thanked him but that isn’t how the real world worked. Pain, grief, any feeling between doesn’t go away with a few strong words but it does help. His words make everything more real; they make your feelings valid but also through you into a position where you have to face the truth. He isn’t wrong, you have to let blame dissipate. The thing with grieving was it takes time to help, to let go. You weren’t even half way there but you felt better knowing someone was in your court, someone hurt with you but also helped you hurt in the right way. Isolation is painful but being with him was restoration. You felt more like you now than you did hours ago.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” The way you looked at Kirishima with shy eyes made him smile. “I’d love to.”

The two of you collected a plate of food and sat quietly at the table, Eventually Kirishima couldn’t take the quiet and started telling you about school. You weren’t opposed to the conversation especially since all you had to do was listen. He talked about things that had happened in class avoiding talking about Bakugou and how everyone was sick with worry. You laughed at a story he told about Kaminari and Mineta getting chased down by a flock of girls they spied on. You laugh was genuine, like a gentle chiming of bells. Kirishima wanted to hear more but wouldn’t force anything to soon. A knock at the door brought attention away from the meal and conversation and to the living room. Your mother wasn’t expecting guests nor were you. Fear bubbled up again. Who could it be now? Kirishima was a blessing but another classmate might upset the balance. Kirishima shared your worry as he followed you to the door. Opening it you were both shocked to find your homeroom teacher. Mr. Aizawa looked unamused as he watched Kirishima try to move out of sight. His hand thrusted out pushing the door all the way open. Kirishima looked at him with a half grin hoping he wasn’t in to much trouble. You giggled at the red heads guilty demeanor. Your attention returned to your teacher as he looked at you. The two of you shared a look. His face wasn’t hard and stoic like usual. It held a twinge of sorrow.

“I am here to receive Kirishima seeing as he left without permission and stayed out past curfew. I’m also here to give you my condolences. L/n, I’m sorry for your loss. Losing a friend is hard.” You had cried for days straight and for the first time today you didn’t cry. You nodded accepting his condolences and understand that as an adult pro hero he has dealt with a lot of loss. You thanked him in a small voice which he acknowledged with his own nod. Kirishima didn’t want to leave you, he needed to know you’d be okay. That feeling came in the form of you hugging him.

“Thank you Kirishima. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” The smile you gave him matched the star above and he would remember it. Your still red eyes and stained cheeks were brokenly beautiful under the moonlight the slipped in through the open door. Kirishima bid you good night before you shut the door. You were exhausted and wanted to sleep. Maybe this night would be peaceful, you could only hope. With less pain in your chest you put away the food, turned off the lights, and headed to bed.

Elsewhere, heading back to the dorms Kirishima kept thinking about you. Aizawa stood next to him as the walked back to the large building. Kirishima turned to his teacher finally curious on how he knew that he had been at your house.

“Mr. Aizawa. How did you know that I was at Y/n’s?”

“Bakugou told me.” When the doors opened to the common room of the dorm building Kirishima made direct eye contact with a conflicted Bakugou. He looked furious and concerned. His fist clenched with intent to harm, or maybe to prevent himself from wanting to do so. Mr. Aizawa left the two boys alone reminding them they needed to go to bed. Bakugou never acknowledged their teacher, while Kirishima let out a quick yeah. Once they were alone Bakugou stepped forward. Kirishima watched his friend with caution. He waited for an explosion or yelling that never came. Instead he sighed, unclenching his fist. He looked at Kirishima with a look the red head had never seen before, remorse.

“How is she?” Kirishima could feel the tables turn. He wanted to be anger, to tell his friend to fuck off because he had the chance to find out but didn’t. He wanted to be aggressive and anger but it wasn’t in his blood. He had to let that anger disappear and be replaced with weariness.

“How is she? She’s tired bro. She’s dealing with stuff that someone shouldn’t have to deal with alone and yet she has been. She’s a fucking wreck!” He couldn’t suppress all the anger. He hadn’t meant to yell but it was needed. He couldn’t understand why Bakugou had just let you waste away on your own. How could anyone do that to the person they loved. He would have never let you go this long suffering alone. “She lost someone close to her. Y/n’s leaving a nightmare, becoming friends with demons of blame. She needed you!”

“She didn’t need me.” Kirishima slammed his hardened fist into the wall not caring about the damage he caused. The sound made Bakugou flinch and lift his hand as an act of defense in case he would get hit next. When he looked at his friend, Bakugou expected to see extreme detestation. Instead he was wide eyed while staring at Kirishima crying. Tears came down the mixed emotion boy, he was struggling with how to feel. He was crying for you having to have a boyfriend who thought you didn’t need him. He cried because he would never let you go if he had you. Bakugou watched Kirishima drop his arms to his sides before leaving. He pushed his shoulder into Bakugou’s as he left toward the elevator.

“She needed you… You are just so full of yourself you won’t admit you messed up.” Kirishima didn’t even try to make his words sound powerful, even in their whispered state they hit Bakugou worse than any punch. Once he was alone in the dark room Bakugou let a tear fall. He looked down at his clenched fist. He felt pathetic. He couldn’t hate Kirishima because he was right. Pride was all that Bakugou had and he held it higher than you. He cared more about his image, about himself than you. Time and time again he hurt you and now he had truly fucked up.

“She didn’t need me when she had you. You’re better than me.” Bakugou spoke to the empty room letting more tears fall before going up to his own room. He didn’t spare Kirishima’s room a glance as he walked by. His heart hurt because he had to do something horrible to you in your already crumbling state.

******************

The morning came and you woke up with your alarm. For the first time in days you slept the whole night. You dreamt of her but it was good. You were both happy and laughing and that was okay. It was okay to think about happy times and not bad things. Negative feelings still lingered but you tried to think positively. You got ready for school and before you left you grabbed a photo of you and F/n from middle school. She was flipping off the camera while you laughed with your eyes closed. It was bittersweet. The photo was tucked away into your pocket and you left.

“Y/N!!!!” You were tackled by so many different people that you couldn’t even figure out exactly who yelled your name. Mina was holding you left side, Kaminari on your right. Midoriya was standing in front of you concerned as Uraraka hugged your front. Sero was wrapped around your back. Iida was scolding them for not giving you space. A laugh escaped and everyone awed. You were bombarded by questions; it was overwhelming and you wanted to run but then Kirishima walked into the room. He made eye contact with you and smiled. It filled you with content and confidence to be here. You heart was still heavy and everything seemed surreal but you could make it through a day. You could tell her story to everyone so more people could mourn with you. It was a plan you’d follow through after class. Bakugou walked in a saw you smiling at Momo who commented on your swollen eyes. Your smile wasn’t sad, it was something he couldn’t figure out. He looked away as you turned toward him. His hair was wild, more so than usual. His hands tucked away into his pockets. He seemed like normal Bakugou but something was wrong. He wasn’t standing as tall, metaphorically. There was less fight in him. You grew concerned but that faded to wanting. You missed him, you truly missed him. His warm arms wrapped around you protectively, the way he smelled sweet like caramel. You wanted him to look at you with the loving gaze he saved for private moments. He found himself making eye contact with you and god did he yearn to run to you. To apologize, to hold you and kiss your swollen eyes. You were his happiness; it just took him so long to realize how bad he was for you. His eyes looked away and you looked down. A large gap filled with talkative students filled the space between you both. Except there was a different gap, one that needed to be filled by talking which he was scared to do. One that only you two could see, well maybe not, maybe Kirishima could too.

*******************

“Bakugou!” He cringed at the sound of his last name which was ironic since he was the one that told you to call him it when in public. This was self-sabotage, torture he was inflicting on himself. Your voice called his name with concern. He had been avoiding you all day and after training he left first making sure you couldn’t catch up. Obviously, he was wrong. You caught up and when he stopped you were breathing heavily. He wanted to scream at himself for being such an asshole but instead he waited for you to speak.

“Um I’m sorry for bothering you with my calls. I was having a hard time but I shouldn’t have woken you up. It was selfish of me.” How could you stand there and blame yourself, apologize for something that needed no apology? He did this to you, made you feel like you were a bother, like you had wronged him. He was to blame, he wished you would yell at him, that you would cry. He hated your tears because he was weak emotionally but right now, he wanted nothing more than for you to cry and he could hold you. Except he wouldn’t he would be scared and that would turn to anger and you’d be hurt again. “Bakugou?”

“Shut up.” He had to break your heart so you could be happy. He had to hurt you so someone could heal you. Shattering glass was easy but shattering a person’s heart. That was truly fucked up. “You always apologize for shit that you didn’t do, its annoying. I know you lost some friend; I know you’ve been suffering and yet I didn’t do anything about it. I wasn’t there for you. You needed me and the fucked-up part was that I didn’t care. I left you to suffer alone, I only realized I cared when I felt guilty, after everyone shamed me for hurting you, for letting you isolate yourself. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this to you anymore.”

You are frozen in a moment where your friend killed herself and your boyfriend leaves you. A moment where you broken heart turns to ash. You can taste iron and realize you had bit your lip so hard it started bleeding. The weight of his words pushed down like a pallet of bricks. You were struggling to stay standing, your knees wobbled as you attempted to step forward, to reach for him. He moved just out of your reach. You were afraid of him leaving and he was afraid if you grabbed him, he would stay and do more damage. His own fire that burned in his heart felt dim. His chest was tight and he apologized to anyone he ever made fun of for having their heartbroken. This was worse than damage received during training. You tried to speak but found the same issue you had with Kirishima the day prior. The words were drowned out by hiccups. You let the streams of tears flush down your cheeks. You looked pathetic but who cared. Your heart wasn’t breaking. It was ceasing to exist.

“Please, please don’t leave me. Don’t do this Katsuki, you love me, I love you. I’ll try harder, you aren’t a problem. You don’t hurt me. I love you please don’t leave me alone again.” He could have swept you into his arms but by the time he turned to face you again someone else was on their way to do just that. Bakugou smiled sadly as Kirishima rushed forward. He didn’t want to let you go but he needed you to be loved properly and he didn’t deserve you. Little did he know what he was doing. He was destroying your already fragile state. You weren’t breaking, you were already fragments scattered at his feet. Your legs moved trying to stop him from walking away. Kirishima was faster. He wrapped an arm around you face covering your eyes with his hand. His other arms wrapped protectively around your middle. Your back was flush against his chest and you didn’t want this. You cried against the hand. Your tears smearing onto the rough appendage. Kirishima’s heart broken for you. “DON’T LEAVE ME ALONE, don’t leave me too.”

“You aren’t alone. You have him.” Bakugou walked away his own tears hidden from you but Kirishima had seen them. Kirishima swore he would protect you and love you but his own heart stopped when you yelled after Bakugou.

“I WANT YOU NOT HIM!” A sad shameful thing love is. These two boys loved you and you loved them. It was much more complicated than that. You fell back against Kirishima who was stiff, his own heart hurting. He knew that this wasn’t about his love for you but instead the pain you felt. You needed someone to catch you since you were falling. He held tightly onto you as Bakugou fought the urge to take it all back. He had heard his classmates talk about your friend and how sad you were when you told them about her. You were dealing with enough and you didn’t need him. Maybe one day if life isn’t always cruel you will find love in the form of an angry blonde again but right now you needed someone else. Someone who could put emotions away to help you with your own. Bakugou walked out of your life leaving a gap that Kirishima couldn’t fill. Your friend had left you forever but this didn’t have to be forever right? Bakugou would still be in your life. Maybe that wasn’t a good thing. You wanted to disappear. To go back to that dream where you laughed and danced with your friend. You wanted to go somewhere that boys didn’t break your heart and friends didn’t kill themselves. That place didn’t exist but you found that Kirishima’s hold would have to do for now. You clung to his arm as he whispered encouragement and apologies into your ear. His hand moved off your eyes and you grabbed it. Your fingers entangled with his as you both cried for life’s difficult decisions, for a girl who thought life was to hard to live, for a boy who destroyed his own happiness, for a red haired boy who wanted you to know how much he loved you, and you both cried for you. For you having no happy ending, just a lot of pieces that Kirishima was trying so hard to hold onto for you while other pieces broke away never to be reattached.

Sometimes life doesn’t go perfectly, sometimes people dies and they don’t come back, people break your heart and leave you with open wounds, sometimes you can’t make the pain go away. You have to learn to live with it. Maybe one day you’ll find Bakugou and he’ll tell you how much he fucked up and you’ll tell him you still love him. Or maybe one day you’ll let Kirishima give you his heart and you’ll slowly give him what’s left of yours. Though there is a possibility that you never fall for anyone again because love sucked and you had none left to give. Your friend would tell you to kick Bakugou’s ass, to get ice cream, watch a movie, break something and then you’d laugh because you’d feel better. She isn’t here. Instead it’s you sobbing into Kirishima’s arm in an empty hallway but it won’t always be this.

“I love you Y/n.”

“I know Kiri.”

“One day it won’t hurt so bad.”

“I hope so.”

#mha x reader #mha #mha imagines #mha bakugo katsuki #mha kirishima #mha angst #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugou #bnha kirishima #kirishima ejirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha angst

107 notes · View notes

baekberrie · 5 years ago

Text

heal me - bbh

✨Genre: Romance, angst, fluff, hearing loss and outcast au (if that makes sense)

✨Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Everything surrounding you started seeping into brighter colors the first time you saw him.

It wasn't a particular day. The sun was hiding behind fluffy clouds painted in streaks of gray, the breeze fluttering the curtains by the big windows felt colder than it should have been in the mid of May. While the adorable daisies were eagerly starting to pop in the grass, it was hard to grasp the spring with such unstable weather. Your gaze was lost in the immensity of the sky, it was one of those days. Those days who blended in with the rest, those who were blurry whenever you tried to recall them- and you- you just existed, sitting by the desk in the classroom while people walked past you, sat in their seats and acknowledged each other. You were there and yet it felt as if you were just invisible. A sigh pushed past your lips as you mentally encouraged yourself. It was going to be another of these unbearable days, treated like you were absolutely nothing more than dust, but you knew you were going to make it until the end of the day, like always. While the sun was up, you allowed yourself to show only one expression, only when you were in the safety of your home would you finally let the loneliness overwhelm you. You let it take your breath away from your lungs and spill from the edge of your eyes, into small but infinite tears.

The ringing bell was just a distant sound while you tried your best to swallow the growing lump in your throat. Thinking about how lonely you felt would always end up in you hurting your own feelings. But for the first time, you didn't have to calm your own frantic heart, for when the teacher entered with a new student next to him you totally forgot about what was going through your head. It had been a while since a new face had entered this class. In fact, you had memorized everyone's face and names on the very first day, while you were sure that no one even remembered yours. The boy looked tall next to the teacher although his height was just average. Your heart skipped a beat, there was something that struck you when gazing at him. It wasn't his incredibly intriguing droopy eyes, nor the way his brown hair fell so beautifully down his face. And although you were taking notice of all of these things, it was neither the way his smiley-like lips pronounced his name or how his voice was the most melodic sound you'd ever heard.

"I'm Byun Baekhyun, please take care of me." He introduced himself shortly and you found yourself slightly flinching when his orbs pierced right into yours as he spoke. That, that was what struck you. You had never seen this boy before, and yet- as no one had ever done in many years, he hadn't looked just past you, right through you as if you weren't there. Instead, he had held your gaze while his serious expression had shifted into a gentle smile that you had never had directed to you and you just could not comprehend it, nothing of it- that someone had just acknowledged you, although in the most minimal of ways. It might be something completely irrelevant for anyone, but you couldn't just help the swelling heart inside of your chest, how it trembled so eagerly that you felt it rub against your ribs.

As if a sheet of paper splashed with watercolor, you felt yourself absorb its colors and slowly but surely you became a part of the world you were living in, and no longer a mere wallflower.

The second time you shared contact with him was a good amount of days later. You had to admit, his mere presence had made your life so much more interesting, it felt as if you had discovered a new book that you just knew you were going to love, and perhaps, you had become more eager to live it. Every morning you would wake up with anticipation buzzing through every inch of your body. It was a feeling that you couldn't help, nor did you know how to handle it, the curiosity that bloomed within you as if flowers in the wild. Were you being odd? It wasn't like you followed him around or anything of the sort. You contented yourself with stealing glances at him in class, and little did you use the excuse that he was answering the teacher to stare at him a little more freely.

It was lunch break for everyone, and just like any other day you were wandering in the gardens of the school while taking tiny bites of your only sandwich, trying to make it last longer although that didn't sit too well with your hungry stomach that wanted all of it right away. It was when you saw him sitting in your usual spot that you completely forgot about your empty stomach and the half-eaten bread in your hand. Baekhyun who was sitting on the grass underneath a tree with his eyes squinted to his notebook and his hand scribbling away while surrounded by small daisies looked like a beautiful photograph, and you would've taken one if you didn't stand religiously by privacy rules.

You did feel extremely timid but still fought against the feeling and willed yourself to take a step into his direction, and one more, one more, until you were standing behind him. You were to be surprised when you saw that he had actually been drawing. His hand moved incredibly skillfully across the paper as he quickly drew lines here and there, picturing the small flowers proudly peeking from the grass. Only when he extended his index finger to smudge the coal on his drawing did you notice the pretty shape of his nails and fingers, and for a short moment, you felt slightly jealous of his unfair beauty. It was strange that he hadn't noticed your presence behind him yet, and to be frank, you would have never imagined that you could ever be capable of speaking to a stranger first, but there was an urge in your chest. You really wanted to know the reason behind your sudden eagerness toward someone that had simply graced you with a smile.

You swallowed before crouching down so that your heights were the same, for a moment, all you could do was chew nervously on your lip.

"Your drawing is very pretty," You finally managed to breathe out and all you could make out for a moment was how your heartbeat echoed like loud drums in your ears. But soon enough it was confusion taking over when the boy did not budge the slightest. You frowned as the confusion morphed into slight hurt and thousands of doubtful thoughts clouded your mind. Perhaps you had been too hopeful to believe that a little smile had been more than a mere coincidence. He probably meant nothing with that, he was not the least interested in what you had to say. Teeth drilled into your lip as you stood up to leave, the embarrassment washed over you like a bucket of ice-cold water, crawling into your chest and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to try and lessen the feeling.

"Did you say something?" You immediately spun around with your eyes widening when Baekhyun suddenly called out to you, only to see him plug something into his ears. Hesitantly, you nodded, taking small steps closer to him.

"I said that your drawing is very pretty." You repeated while desperately trying to hide the insecurity in your trembling voice, crying inwardly for how your it cracked in the middle of your sentence. Baekhyun's questioning expression had like that one time, softened into a smile that made his eyes disappear into small, twinkling crescents as he muttered a shy thanks and rubbed his neck.

"I'm sorry if it seemed as if I was ignoring you, actually I..." The boy trailed, reaching out to his ear and picked the hearing aid off it, mustering it to you. A loud gasp left your lips and you couldn't be more ashamed for having assumed so many things about him without even knowing better.

"I have an extreme hearing loss, and well," He chuckled, "sometimes these things get uncomfortable so I take them off." He owed you no explanation, and yet there he was, being extremely friendly at the same time as extremely oblivious to the fact that you had in head your dragged him to the same corner of toxic people that were in your class. Regretfully, you imagined yourself dragging him out of that corner and apologized.

"Uh, no, actually I am sorry- I..." To your surprise, he laughed without even letting you finish your sentence. You had no idea what he found so funny, but the warmth in his voice felt like the sweetest medicine for your wounded heart. His chuckles faded into thin air and as soon as it was over, you found yourself wanting to hear more of it.

"Sorry for what?" He shook his head, "It's okay, it happened a long time ago, it's not a sensitive topic." he explained calmly, fearlessly keeping the eye contact. Compared to you, he wasn't scared to hold other people's gaze as he spoke.

" Do you want to see my drawing?" Baekhyun offered a closer look at his masterpiece and somehow, even if your legs were by now jelly, they held your weight as you took the remaining steps towards him and squatted down to see his art.

It was beautiful, but you couldn't help but think that his expression full of joy as he showed you was too, and more.

✨✨✨

If your life had been interesting in the first days of his arrival, right now, you believed it had turned into the most magical film- for one meeting with Baekhyun had turned into two, into three, until it became every day. At this point, you were sure nothing could ruin the happiness making your heart beat louder at the sole thought of spending your day next to him.

Underneath that big tree in the school's garden, was the place where the two of you would be together at every opportunity. The spring was bringing such lovely warmth and gentle breezes that caressed your skin in the most comforting of ways, it was a must to take part in it by sitting outside. Not many words were exchanged during those moments, and although you had grown so addicted to the sound of Baekhyun's soft and low voice, you didn't mind the peacefulness in the shared silence. In the end, you couldn't be more thankful to his sole company, sitting next to him like this was enough to curl your lips into a smile you had never known you were able to muster.

Baekhyun's back leaned against the tree just like yours, and you couldn't help but feel extremely aware of the fact that his shoulder and arm were pressed lightly against yours. But that wasn't merely it, you might have been a loner for a long time but you knew what physical contact was. You just couldn't understand the tingles taking place in your body, the extreme heat forming in that one spot where your arms brushed each other. Your favorite book was now aimlessly open in your hands as you couldn't recall when it had become so completely uninteresting. Little did you know, it was a certain someone stealing every single spotlight there was to claim. Like a sun drawing every sunflower to its brightness, he was.

The wind was softly fluttering his hair that was now a bit too long and would sometimes cover his chocolate eyes. Since both of you had opted for no talking, the boy had removed the hearing aids from his ears and let all of his concentration go to the new sketch that he had started. That was how it would usually go, Baekhyun sketched while you read your book. But this time, there was nothing you could do to hold back the extreme urge to look at him that was crawling underneath your skin. It was like his figure was magnetic and your eyes would restlessly pull to him no matter how hard you attempted to get a hold of yourself and stop staring.

At one point, you found yourself completely defeated as you leaned your cheek into your palm and succumbed to part of you that didn't want to do anything but observe him and his features that you had seen a million times by now. Though, multiple times you had been proved wrong. Baekhyun was like a painting and every time you'd look at him there would be something new for you to discover. This time there was another tiny mole on the side of his nose that entered the small constellation he already had.

While you were in a daze, Baekhyun had eventually felt your intense stare on him and so he turned slightly around to meet your gaze. As his questioning puppy eyes suddenly came into your view, you flinched back like a deer caught in headlights. Great. Couldn't you have been a little more obvious?

The boy cocked his head to the side questioningly, curiosity swam in his orbs and you could only cower underneath the intensity of his gaze. Biting your lips, you avoided his eyes and shook your head frantically, trying to dismiss the fact that he had caught you staring. The heart was crashing nervously against your ribs while cold sweat was prickling under your clothes. Heat gathered on your cheeks which did not go unnoticed by Baekhyun whose lips curled into a fond smile while his pretty hand reached out for your warm cheek. His fingers and gave it a short caress, his fingertips soft as feathers tracing your skin, making your blush turn from pink to scarlet as you froze completely in your spot.

"Liar," He whispered playfully.

Oh, how your heart was running ahead of you without giving you the chance to catch up.

✨✨✨

Pain.

A dazing pain traveled from your spine up to the back of your head after that someone had accidentally pushed you into the metal lockers. It ached, to the point of black spots appearing before your eyes. Your lips twitched at the pulsating sensation of bruises forming onto your skin while a groan pushed past your lips. Normally, you would have fled from the scene as quickly as possible, only to suffer alone in the school's bathroom. Though not a single muscle in your body induced you to run away as all you felt was a fit of overwhelming anger that heated the blood in your veins. Eyes searching for whoever had done such an unfair thing to you, a yell made its way from your throat.

"Hey! What the hell was that!?" You breathed out, nostrils flaring, "Can't you see I was walking here?" Sure, you knew you blended in with the crowd, to this day, you had never blamed anyone for bumping into you. But you were tired. So tired of it, of pretending to be fine with it. The person merely shrugged their shoulders while muttering a meaningless apology underneath their laugh.

The lump in your throat grew and your teeth drew blood from your lips when you suppressed the loud sob that threatened to erupt. It wasn't the fact that they had physically hurt you, but the completely unfair treatment that you could just not comprehend. How someone could be so repugnant to hurt someone they didn't even know and act as if nothing happened.

Only when you reached your favorite spot in the school's garden did you let the tears fall freely, knowing it would feel better to let them out than to let them burn behind your eyelids. You sniffed quietly while the cool breeze cut against the trails of salty water on your cheeks. After meeting Baekhyun you had thought that you were never going to feel like that ever again, but you were once again proved wrong. You got reminded that for Baekhyun you might be someone, but that did not make you any different from before in the eyes of others. The sigh that left your lips trembled along the shivers covering your body as the wind swept your hair behind your shoulders. Head buried in your knees and shut your eyes close, trying to find some comfort in yourself- but found only coldness, loneliness. You chuckled humorlessly by yourself, in the end, you were bound to be the same insignificant particle of dust they had made you out to be.

Rigidness made its way through your body when the faint noise of nearing footsteps reached your ears. A slender hand squeezing your shoulder made you look up from your previous position and your heart skipped a panicked beat at the sight of a concerned Baekhyun. You didn't know whether to feel relieved or uncomfortable that was witnessing you in such a state.

"B-baekhyun-" You stuttered while hurriedly drying your cheeks in a failed attempt to hide the fact that you had been crying. "What are you doing here?"

"I saw you in the corridors earlier but you weren't in class, so I came looking for you." The boy explained softly, sensing how you were in a sensitive state. He sat down on the grass in front of you.

"But- you'll miss class,"

"It doesn't really matter right now," Baekhyun dismissed without even thinking twice and ran a gentle finger down your cheek, making you shiver. "What's wrong?" Baekhyun murmured soothingly while in his orbs pooled concern. You hesitated at first, but the warmth in Baekhyun's gaze made you melt and heal all at the same time.

With your gaze cast downwards on your hands that were clamped together, you sighed, "Sometimes I just feel like I'm nothing. Like nobody sees me. And I just-" your voice broke in the middle of your sentence. "I just feel so lonely." Tears gathered on the edge of your eyes, rendering your view blurry as you intensely stared holes into your hands.

"Hey," Came Baekhyun's soft whisper, Baekhyun's soft caress as his incredibly delicate yet warm palm cupped the side of your face. "Please look at me," He pleaded, "Look at me," he repeated weakly.

His hand gently led you to meet his eyes that were frantically searching for yours.

"You're here, and I see you. I always will." Baekhyun led you to rest against his sturdy chest and for a moment you felt your breath disappear inside of your throat at the sudden action. His words echoed into your mind while you couldn't help but note how this closeness was something so unfamiliar to you and yet something that you had never known you'd needed.

Slowly but surely, he was able to chase the reason for your tears away. It felt so surreal, how warm he was, all of him. His arms, his chest, his hands that rested on the back of your waist. They were all so scorching hot in the most inviting way possible and you felt yourself melt in his embrace. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, desperately trying to crash out of your ribcage and you were sure Baekhyun could feel it, for he started rocking your bodies ever so slowly. Soon enough you were able to calm down- because Baekhyun's heartbeat was right next to yours and its melody lulled you into calmness.

He was like medicine, like everything you had ever needed. He was a blessing and his soft voice murmuring words of comfort resembled such noise as of angels singing.

Maybe, after all, you weren't completely lonely. A faint smile graced your lips as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, no, you really were not lonely. Baekhyun might be the only person you had.

But if you had him, you also had everything.

✨✨✨

Classes had ended hours ago and by now most students had already gone home. Well, except for you and Baekhyun who had stayed after class to get an assignment done. You couldn't describe the fulfilling happiness and thankfulness that overwhelmed you every time you'd even just look at him. Day by day you felt yourself become happier, brighter, the better version of yourself you would have never reached if not for him. Inside of you was no longer coldness, nor darkness, but wines, leaves and colorful flowers blooming within every inch of your body.

You were happy.

The wind was remarkably stronger in the evening, but it felt even colder when leaning against the rooftop's railing, having it sweep against the frame of your face and fluttering your hair away into every direction. While you had been at it, Baekhyun had insisted for the two of you to look at the sunset. The sky had turned into every shade of pink and violet and it amazed you how even small streaks of orange had found their way into melting in the immense painting that was the sky. It was incredibly beautiful, but what was it, even more, was Baekhyun whose fair skin reflected every color of the sunset as if a canvas itself, whose twinkling eyes mirrored the melted clouds, and the crescent moon in the sky.

How your heart skipped every beat for him and him only.

Baekhyun's ears were free from the hearing aids, you noted, wondering if you were a coward for what you were about to do. Certain words were dancing on the tip of your tongue while your fingers nervously fidgeted with each other and heat gathered on your cheeks. Your lips parted and you mentally tried to calm your throbbing heart down. It was futile. It wasn't anything you could control, it was as if your voice had a mind of its own as your lips pronounced meaningful words. A part of you felt relieved because you didn't know if you were truly ready to have him hear these words. But what you did not know was that just like you had a while ago, Baekhyun had found you way more intriguing than the breathtaking scenery.

"I think I love you," You breathed out into the breeze, looking up to the sky once again. But your sightseeing did not last long when a pair of hands suddenly appeared on both sides of your face, making you gasp. Baekhyun's soft lips came eagerly crashing onto yours without any warning. You felt yourself almost suffocating, completely out of breath, and dazed by his incredibly sweet scent clouding your senses. The boy parted away from you for a few seconds, barely allowing you to process what had just happened before leaning in again, this time way gentler. Baekhyun gently guided your lips apart before settling his own between yours, locking them into a slow, lingering kiss. They were warm, soft but most of all, tasted like strawberries, and you found yourself melting completely.

His lips detached from yours with a fond grin resting upon his face while his mischievous puppy eyes crinkled into an adorable eye smile. Baekhyun's hand was absentmindedly playing with a few strands of your hair.

"I may have removed the hearing aids," he stated matter of factly, eyebrow quirking playfully, his hand that had been playing with your hair cupped your face again, the pad of his thumb brushed against your lips.

"But I can still read your lips."

✨✨✨✨✨✨

...hello everyone! Yep, so idk if you can tell, but this was a desperate and painful attempt of me trying to get comfortable with my writing again.

Do I want to delete this right away? Yes. Do I feel anxious about posting? Yes. Do I wanna cry? Also yes-

No, but I have no idea why I have been feeling this way. I haven't been able to write a single word without feeling awful and ew just bad about everything. I guess I'm just very afraid of being irrelevant and not being as good as I was before. sigh, I sound stupid don't I?

Well, I hope this wasn't a complete, boring failure and that at least you guys could enjoy it! Please do tell me what you think, give me feedback, where I'm lacking or even some advice to get back on track with the positive thoughts. It would be nice💕 Have the nicest day, lots of love and hope, P💕💖

sorry for errors!

179 notes · View notes