#and listen i started like crying in his office bc i was so caught off guard and overwhelmed | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

belphies-cuhm-sluht · 3 years ago

Note

Ok I have an angsty one bc I live for it~ what ab mc dating Lucifer but she catches him cheating??????? if u don't wanna do it, it's fine!!!!

Grenada (Lucifer x GN!Reader) ANGST

A/N : The title is a Brothertiger song that I listened to on repeat while writing this... Word Count : 1.4K Warnings : cheating ; manipulation ; gas lighting ;

There was always something… Something keeping him from you, something that held his attention more than you ever could. There was no way that you could have known what that something was, he had never seemed like the type to do it, he was always a “gentleman”, and he had promised to never hurt you. That was the thing though… the promise would have been kept if you hadn’t been out of the house… if you hadn't left. He never planned on hurting you, because he never planned on telling you, he never thought that you would find out. You couldn’t hurt someone with something they didn’t know about… and that was just the way he thought.

A meeting at Ristorante Six with Lord Diavolo, that’s what he had said it was. A very important meeting, one that he couldn’t take you to. Now you know why he couldn’t take you… because Lord Diavolo wasn’t there, and it wasn’t a meeting, but it was very important to him. He leaned over, tilting up the chin of the demon who was beside him and kissed them softly, the way he would most likely try to kiss you when he came back home, the way you wouldn’t let him kiss you this time. You wouldn’t create a scene, much like him, you were too prideful to let him and everyone else in the Devildom know that he had hurt you. You turned away from the window, walking back towards the house, holding your head high. Maybe it was with pride, or maybe it was to keep the tears from falling down your cheeks. Your pride was broken, your trust was shattered, and your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach, but you wouldn’t let anyone know. As soon as you walked through the doors you went straight to your room, not wasting any time as you started throwing all of your clothes into the small suitcase that you had stored away in the bottom of your closet. “What’re ya doin’?” Mammon’s voice caught your attention and had you looking up at him, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. You weren’t going to cry in front of him. You knew he would attempt to comfort you, and that’s not what you needed. You needed to be somewhere where you could cry in solitude, where you could let everything sink in in silence. You needed to be home. Forcing a smile and a small laugh you shook your head, quickly closing your bag and picking it up. The longer you stayed, the higher the chance of running into Lucifer. “Vacation time, I’m going back home for a bit.” It never felt right to lie, but then again, you had been dealing with and dating a liar, so maybe you had just picked it up from him without even knowing. “Oh! Bring me back somethin’, alright?” Had he not realized? Or maybe he just didn’t care. The thought of a potential gift had his mind sidetracked, and that was a good thing. As long as you could avoid the rest of the brothers, you’d be able to make it to Purgatory Hall, and hopefully Solomon would be able to send you back. You didn’t want to get Lord Diavolo involved, his bond with Lucifer was too strong, and you knew he’d bring him into it.

Just as you were walking down the stairs, he was walking through the front door, a bag of leftovers in his hand. His eyes immediately landed on your bag, looking up at you with lowered eyebrows. “Where are you going, dear?” Your body's immediate reaction to the words was to gag, but you held it in, giving him the same smile you had given Mammon as you moved to walk past him. “I have vacation time. I’m going home.” You said it with a straight face, your voice not even breaking although everything else felt like it was falling apart. You had to keep yourself together just a little longer. His eyebrows furrowed, his eyelids casting a shadow over his eyes as he looked you over, grabbing the bag from your hand and walking into his office. You were tempted to still leave, you didn’t really need your bag, you still had clothes at home, but you knew Lucifer wouldn’t let you leave. As soon as you would even try to open the door he’d stop you and drag you into his office himself, so you reluctantly followed him. He was waiting for you at the door, shutting it behind him when you walked in and dropping your bag to the floor before going to his desk. “When were you going to tell me that you planned on going home?” He actually seemed… upset… that you hadn’t told him. He was so manipulative that he was going to make you feel bad for leaving, at least he’d try, but you weren’t going to let him. You were only doing what was right for you, what you needed to do. You didn’t even sit down, grabbing your bag off the floor and continuing to stand near the door, trying to stay as far away from him as possible. You didn’t want to be anywhere near him, just the sight of him made you sick. “I wasn’t going to tell you, because I wasn’t planning on going home until today. Now, I’d like to get going.” You were gritting your teeth together, trying to keep the tears at bay just a little longer, but the more you were around him, the more they threatened to fall. “What is wrong with you right now? Talk to me, dear.” He had been leaning against the edge of the desk, but he pushed himself away to start walking towards you. You moved your bag in front of you, backing up further against the door, and your actions had him stopping in the middle of his office, eyeing you with confusion. “What…? What’s wrong?” You rolled your eyes and you couldn’t help but scoff at the way he pretended to care. If he did care you would have caught him having a meeting with Lord Diavolo, like he said he was going to do. If he cared he wouldn’t have cheated on you to begin with. He didn’t care though, he was just a good actor. “How was your meeting today, Lucifer? Did Lord Diavolo have someone filling in for him?” His face went from confusion to irritation, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as his fingers drummed against his crossed arms. “Do you know what’s wrong now?” “Please, Y/N. I’m sure your mind is running with thoughts and assumptions on what you saw, but it was nothing. I was just greeting them. The real problem is that you were out of the house on your own. What were you doing?” Of course he’d try to turn this into somehow being your fault, but you weren’t going to allow that. He wouldn’t sway your thoughts, you did nothing wrong. You nodded slowly, and for a second he thought that you were in agreement with him. He started walking closer, a smirk playing at his lips until you held up your hand. “No…” The smirk quickly turned to a grimace as he stopped again. “If that was just a greeting, then I’m sure you wouldn’t mind me greeting all your brothers like that.” Now it was your turn to wear the smirk as you heard the deep growl building in his chest. “But you wouldn’t like that, would you? Because it wasn’t a greeting, it was cheating. You’re not mad that I left the house, you’re mad that you got caught.” You turned towards the door to leave, your hand was already on the handle, but he had reached out to grab you, turning you to face him again. “So… what? You’re just going to leave? You don’t want to try to fix things or talk it out? You’re just

giving up?” He was pathetic. He wasn’t even going to apologize or admit that he was wrong. He never would. He would constantly find some way to turn things on you, and you didn’t need that, nobody needed that. You let out an exasperated laugh, you were already exhausted with this, you just wanted to go home. “Yes, I’m going to leave, because there’s nothing to fix or talk about. This isn’t just some petty argument that can be worked out. You cheated, and you gave up when you did it. This isn’t on me, it’s all on you. So I’m going home… and I’d like it if you didn’t try to stop me.” You let out a small sigh as he dropped your hand, turning your back to him again to walk out the door.

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

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Fuck the context and the way you portrayed shinso in your brother fic of him was so hot. Can’t wait for him to become unhinged and not even care what his parents would think/if they’re home and just defile you whenever he wants bc he’s just that desperate

Prelude - gonna call this mess “FaMiLy BoNdInG” and bruh trust me it’s a mess but I tried so enjoy k gbye

Pairing - Aizawa X Reader X Shinsou

Prompt - at the top and combined with these two!

Warnings - psuedo-incest, NSFW, non con, dubcon, all the cons. Step dad Aizawa and step bro Shinsou are a force to be reckoned with. Mentions of DP at the end.

Music - I listened to https://open.spotify.com/track/1xFfbxmfenEpn4WawGWXiA?si=OUFp4ANsSR-6V_H187Eblw while writing even though it has NO relation to the fic spsosfnjsdhgsslfdn dead

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You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking soda and scrolling mindlessly on your phone when your stepbrother had come up behind you, looping his arms over your shoulders as he leaned down.

“Hey girlie, what’re you doing?”

“Nothin’.” You shifted, moving so his mouth was away from your ear, squirming uncomfortably.

There was a beat of silence, before Shinsou stood, his presence looming behind you like a harbinger of evil. “Come up to my room? I’m tired, wanna hold you.” You sighed, hunching your shoulders and curling in upon yourself. You knew it wasn’t a question, wasn’t a request that you could ignore or refuse. He was just giving you the illusion of having a choice. Well, you did have a choice; go with your brother willingly, or get dragged, risk him getting angry if you said you were feeling sick, get into a fight with the man that could pin you to the ground without breaking a sweat.

“Shinsou…. “

“C’mon.” He didn’t wait for you to figure out how to beg for him to leave you be, grabbing your arm and hauling you to your feet with ease. You went limp, what else could you do?

The purple-haired man reached under your skirt, a modest, knee-length thing, wrenching your panties down with one hand. You squeezed your eyes shut when his hand brushed against your hip, when he eyed the panties clutched in his fist.

“Cute.”

Gross.

Then he was tugging you along, headed towards his room.

You were so tired.

Mind almost shutting down, you stumbled when the audible clanking of the garage door beginning to open could be heard.

Dad was home.

Wide eyed, you caught Shinsou’s equally-surprised gaze, the man in front of you tightening his grip on your arm. Without another word, his pace was quickened. Aizawa wasn’t supposed to get home until midnight, was supposed to be working late at the office.

Shinsou tugged you into his room, slammed the door shut, pushed you onto the bed. He had a sense of urgency; he was stressed, thrown off by the sudden and unexpected arrival of your father. “Gotta be quiet now, don’t want dad to hear us, right?”

You nodded, dazed, exhausted. Nothing had happened yet and you were already retreating inside your mind, resigning yourself to whatever your older brother was going to do today. He had said he wanted to cuddle, but that usually meant lazy sex while he hugged you, kissing your neck and falling asleep after making the both of you cum.

Without any preamble, the man climbed onto the bed, putting a hand on your shoulder to gently guide you to lay back. Then he was scrabbling at your shirt, pulling it over your head and leaving you in nothing but your bralette and skirt. He kneeled between your legs, pulling your skirt up to mid thigh to give him more room to maneuver.

“Shinsou please don’t, dad’s-“

“Shhhh, just do what I say and you��ll be fine.”

Shinsou spat into his palm, the sound making you cringe as you thumbed at the soft blankets underneath you. He was unbuttoning his pants, shoving at his underwear until he could get his cock free. The man went quicker than usual as he slicked up his length with his spit, very much aware of the presence of someone else in the house.

At this point, Shinsou really didn’t care.

He had been fucking you for so long, pulling you aside for a quickie when your parents ran to the store, taking his time when they went away for a weekend, fucked you on the couch when they went out for date-night. Feeling particularly bold today, he barely thought to pause when your father had gotten home. Right now, he wanted to lay down with his little sister, fuck you until you fell asleep, and then cuddle with your pliant body. Dad home or not, he was determined.

Your skirt was pushed even further up your body, the material bunching at your waist so your stepbrother had unfettered access to your bare pussy. Clenching your eyes shut, you turned your head away as you felt Shinsou pull your hips into his lap so he could rub his cock against your folds. He hissed at the sensation, spitting into his hand again before reaching around his cock to smear his saliva onto your puffy slit, too impatient and hurried to properly prep you.

It was odd to see the purple haired man like this; usually he was very laid-back, slow and gathered in his movements. Right now he was rushing, pushing the tip of his cock slowly into your entrance when usually he would still be making you cry on his fingers. The stretch was immediate, almost burning, and your lungs tightened.

A hand reached up to cover your mouth, Shinsou’s thumb massaging your cheek as he hushed you. You grabbed onto his arm, not to pull him away (it would be useless, he was so much stronger than you), but to ground yourself, able to do nothing but hold onto the man causing you pain.

The sound of dishes clattering down in the kitchen had Shinsou’s hips bucking forward suddenly, filling you up, pressing too far, too soon. He swore lowly, hand tightening around your mouth as you let out a pained noise.

His hips stilled, the hand not at your mouth petting soothingly at your hip in an imitation of comfort. Funny, you thought - you wouldn’t need comfort if your stupid step brother could manage to keep his dick in his pants.

As the seconds passed, both of you aware of Aizawa down in the kitchen, your muscles slowly relaxed. The stretch burned less, felt more manageable. Still, you were entirely unprepared when Shinsou drew his hips back before rutting into you.

You screeched, the sound muffled by his hand but undeniably loud. Shinsou leaned over you, unwittingly pushing himself deeper as he tried to soothe you with his quiet “Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.”

If you were able, you would scream that you weren’t. You weren’t okay, nothing was okay. Everything about this was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong. The way his hips were twitching into you, the way he kissed your cheeks and thumbed away your tears. The pleasure that was sparking in your core, the fact that it was your stepbrother getting ready to pound you into the mattress.

He was thrusting smoothly now, cock drilling into you a a steady pace. You were getting wet, the slide easier and less painful, pleasure slowly filtering in. When Shinsou plucked at your clit, you squirmed, hips shamefully moving to meet his own. He started increasing the pace, breathing heavily as the two of you rocked together on the bed. Occasionally his bed creaked, the wood rubbing at the joints and squeaking.

On one hand, you hoped dad didn’t hear. On the other, you wished he would - that he’d come save you from his son.

You got a mockery of your wish.

“Kids?” Aizawa was walking up the stairs, the third step that always creaked whenever someone tread on it announcing his ascent.

“Shit.” Shinsou breathed, pulling out of you, manhandling you quickly. He threw back the covers of his bed, shoved you down, settled behind you. He didn’t have to tell you to be good - the taboo, disgustingly wrong nature of what he had been doing was too embarrassing for you to reveal to your stepfather. Accusing his biological son of assaulting you? Raping you? Would dad even believe you? You didn’t want him to see you like this, you couldn’t.

Dad knocked as Shinsou pulled the covers up, covering your state of undress. You knew your bralette straps were still visible, and Shinsou still had his shirt on. It would probably just look like the two of you had been napping, but then again, it would still seem odd. Whenever your parents were home you stayed as far away from your brother as possible - you weren’t one to just go cuddle with him.

The door creaked open, and your dad peered in. You were so embarrassed, half-naked and utterly humiliated underneath the covers. You didn’t know what to feel or what to do, frozen in fear and indecision.

“Hey dad, need something?” Shinsou rumbled from behind you, voice steady and monotoned.

Light eyes scanned the room, before settling on you and your brother. Aizawa gave you a confused glance, obviously not expecting you to be in here, before his eyes shifted to the man behind you. “Wanted to let you know I’m home. Mom won’t be back until late, do you two have any specific requests for dinner?”

Shinsou shifted closer to you, so close that you could feel his rapidly beating heart through the warm flesh of his chest.

“Nah, we’re fine with whatever.”

Aizawa nodded, giving you one more confused glance. Maybe he could tell something was up? You felt like you couldn’t breathe. As the dark-haired man turned, obviously moving to shut the door and head back down to the kitchen, Shinsou was pushing his cock into you, his heart trying to beat out of his chest against your back.

Before you could stop yourself, you were whimpering.

“Dad….”

Shinsou froze as Aizawa turned back, stepping further into the room. You were quiet, tears budding at the corners of your eyes. You couldn’t make yourself utter another word, completely unsettled at the situation. What were you supposed to do? You wanted him to save you, but you didn’t know how to ask. Your stepfather was studying you, was waiting for you to say something more. His gaze was flickering between you tearful eyes, your bralette straps visible above the blanket, the position you and Shinsou were in. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

All three of you were silent, the moment seeming to stretch on forever.

You were so tired.

Breaking the stillness, Aizawa took another step into the room, brows slowly drawing down as the realization dawned upon him.

“Shinsou.” HIs voice was low, he rolled his son’s name in his mouth quietly, almost hesitantly. “What the fuck is going on.”

Your brother’s cock was still inside you.

“I was tired. (Y/N)’s cuddling with me, she was telling me about a dog she saw-“ Aizawa snorted, arms crossing as he took another step towards the bed. “Nice try. Don’t lie to me. Tell me what the fuck you’re doing.”

Shinsou was silent behind you, his heart beating loud and fast against your back.

“(Y/N), what’s going on?” His voice was softer as he asked you, throaty still - but softer. The tears clouding your vision finally flooded, streaming down your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Please… I....” You couldn’t formulate the words, mortification surrounding your body, Shinsou’s hand squeezing bruises into your hip. It was too much. You wished you had never existed, that none of this had happened.

Unable to get an answer out of either of you, Aizawa strode forward, grabbed the covers, ripped them off the bed and dumped them in a heap.

You sobbed.

Both men were silent as you cried fat tears, embarrassed at being revealed, gratification at dad finally discovering the awfulness you had been subjected to these past few months.

Shinsou thrust his hips further into your warmth.

You choked, eyes snapping up to Aizawa. Shinsou was supposed to stop the second the two of were caught. He wasn’t supposed to keep going. Why wasn’t dad saying anything? Telling Shinsou to get off of you, get out of the house? Why wasn’t he calling the police? Why wasn’t he pulling your skirt down, trying to preserve your modesty?

The man was staring at the mess between your legs, Shinsou’s cock sliding in and out of you as you sobbed. Aizawa was breathing a bit heavier, his face, stance, demeanor no longer angry.

Dread filled your bones, settled like hot glue.

“Can you see how wet she is? She’s dripping.” Shinsou prodded, Aizawa frozen in place, mouth dry as he watched. “She’s always so warm inside, feels so nice.“

He was egging Aizawa on, seizing the moment and capturing his dad’s hesitance, manipulating it. You let out a whine as Shinsou’s pace picked up, cock beginning to hammer into your pussy. The purple haired man looped an arm underneath your thigh, hefting it into the air to allow Aizawa a better view.

“Doesn’t she sound so sweet? She tastes just as good, feels even better.” He was breathing heavily now, as he rutted into your warmth. Dropping your thigh, Shinsou reached for your clit, trapping the nub between his fingers and flicking at it. You cried out, your own hips squirming in indecisiveness , unable to choose between puling away or pushing back into the delicious sensation. It didn’t take much more to have you cumming.

Shinsou grunted as your walls squeezed around his cock, giving a few more frantic thrusts before he shot his load deep within your cunt, hips twitching as he worked through his own orgasm

You watched Aizawa sit down on the bed, close to your knees.

“How long?” He sounded strained. Shinsou shrugged, still panting.

Aizawa’s rough hand rested on your knee, his flat eyes closing as he paused. “Get up.”

The command wasn’t directed at you, but at your brother. Somehow, you didn’t think it would end up with your stepdad kicking his son out of the house.

Shinsou seemed to think the same as he pulled out, uncaring to the way you flinched as his cock dragged against your sensitive walls. He was silent as he shuffled to the end of the bed, tucking his dick back into his pants.

Aizawa grabbed your ankle and in one smooth move, dragged you to him. You squeaked at the sudden movement, eyes wide as you watched Aizawa look you up and down. The front of his slacks were tented.

He pulled you into his lap, your back to his chest, turning so the both of you faced Shinsou who still stood at the foot of the bed.

“Does he make you feel good?” The older man’s stubble was scratchy against your cheek. You didn’t know where this was going, felt so lost and bad and sick.

“Sometimes…”

It was impossible to lie. You knew if you did, Shinsou would cut in, tell his father how he made you cum everytime. How most of the time, you were screaming in pleasure before he would even take his pants off.

Looking at the floor, you missed the look between father and son.

“He touch you here?” You gasped as a large hand grasped at your chest through your bralette. Aizawa’s hands were bigger than his son’s, rougher and more confident in their touch.

“Yes.”

“What about-“ tears streamed down your face as the hand slid further, over your tummy, over the fabric of your skit, down to your abused, sensitive cunt. “-Here?”

“Please stop, please.”

Aizawa didn’t answer, let his hand rest over the top of your pussy, feel his son’s cum slowly leaking out. “Shinsou, come here.”

The purple-haired man obeyed, stepping closer, falling to his knees at the edge of the bed when Aizawa motioned for him to do so.

“Clean up your sister.”

You weren’t too surprised. It shouldn’t have been hard to see where Shinsou had learned his nasty little tricks from. Still, it hurt your heart, struggling in your step-dad’s lap as he held you in place.

Shinsou was smiling, leaning forward to shove his face in-between your thighs, chuckling when you yelped as he tongued over your hole. You used your hands to shove at his head, pull at his hair, but he caught them in his grip. They were pulled down by your sides, where Shinsou held them still.

“No, no! Stop! You can’t, no—dad!!” You were sobbing, pleading as Shinsou continued his assault on your cunt, licking out his own cum from your insides. Aizawa was holding your legs, keeping you spread-eagled and open.

“I’m not a good guy (Y/N), neither of us are.” His hardness was rubbing up against your back as you squirmed. “And from now on, you call me daddy.” “No! I won’t, let me go!” You thrashed, putting all your energy into loosing the iron grip holding your legs. Shinsou pulled back, licking his lips as he glanced up at his father.

“She was like this when I first had her. Mouthy little thing, still hasn’t learned proper manners.” He didn’t wait for Aizawa to respond, leaning back forward to continue slurping at your swollen lips.

“That’s alright, she’ll learn… I am a teacher after all.”

You wanted to vomit. You went limp, sobbing raggedly in Aizawa’s arms - completely demoralized and humiliated. There was no use fighting when Shinsou had been hurting you. Now with two fully grown men focused on you? Forget about it.

Aizawa was quiet as Shinsou worked you up to an orgasm, the only sound besides your crying the wet, squishy lapping of Shinsou’s tongue suckling at your pussy. When he switched his focus to your clit, you wheezed, jolting in place as his tongue started laving over the little bud rapidly, quickly throwing you higher and higher and-

You wailed through your second orgasm, almost unable to breathe.

Moments passed before you were able to calm yourself, ugly-crying and begging the two men to please, please leave you alone. Please leave, don’t touch you.

If you weren’t numb from your orgasm, you would feel sick.

“Shinsou, where’s your lube?”

Purple hair bounced as your brother cocked his head, still kneeling between your legs. “She doesn’t need lube, she’s soaking wet.”

“She’s gonna need it if we’re both going to fit.”

Neither man seemed to be able to hear your panicked pleas, too excited about prepping you to take both of them together.

What an awful attempt at family bonding.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere shinso hitoshi #yandere aizawa shouta #creepy aizawa #stepbro #stepbrother #stepfather #step dad #tw dubious consent #tw noncon #noncon tw #yandere shinso x reader #yandere aizawa

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starshine-effendy · 3 years ago

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How about Levi x (f) reader where they have son in the future. the son (maybe 19 years old or something) comes to the past becose some reason he never saw his mother? And he wanted to know her bc levi told stories about her.

Angelic Features

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from AOT they belong to Hajime Isayama!

A/N: Oh... So... we basically died in the past... I hope I got this right

Warnings: Mentions of death... and crying? Mention of girls being harassed?

You left Levi a gift before you left. You left him a son. A beautiful son with the same sparkling, beaming eyes as yours and a smile just as bright as day. You didn’t choose to leave Levi. You just couldn’t fight through the pain and went to sleep 6 feet under the ground... Forever... Levi always told his son stories about you and how you both fell in love with each other. Sometimes Levi would end up crying because he couldn’t touch you, feel you, see you anymore and it hurts. He wished he could see your smile once more but all he could do is tell his son memories about you and how amazing you were.

Your son grew up to be a respectable strong man. Unlike his father he wasn’t stoic, instead he was bright and happy like you. He loved the stories his father told him. Especially about you, He wish he could’ve met you, remembered you. He was a soft strong boy and Levi couldn’t be more proud. Your son gained respect from a lot of people because he’s constantly save people from being bullied and girls who were being harassed. Every night Levi would look up in the sky and say, “I hope you can see our son right now... He’s grown to be such a respectable man,”

The time came... Levi didn’t see it coming but it came... Your son has developed a rebellious phase. He would still love the stories Levi told him about you but he would stay out later and hang out with Hange more. To say Levi was stressing out because of it was an understatement. He was basically pulling his hair and fuming every night asking himself ‘how did this happen.’ He looked at the sky, “If you were here, you’d probably laugh at his behavior,” He sighed.

One night, your son was hanging out at Hange’s place and helping her work on experiments with his feet up on the table but Hange tripped and dropped unknown stuff towards him. The room was covered with smoke and when Hange noticed that he wasn’t on the chair anymore she started freaking out and went to tell Levi.

(Son’s name)’s vision was covered with smoke. The smoke made him cough. He waved his hand around when he saw he wasn’t in Hange’s place anymore. He somehow remained calm and realize he was in a room...? The room looks clean. Immediately his mind thought, ‘Was dad here?’

He looked around analyzing every detail in the room when he saw. He started to move around the room and opened the desk drawers. The first drawer was filled with neatly pilled paper work. ‘Yep... Dad was here’ He thought. He was about to open the second drawer when the door opened. Younger Levi stood there watching your son opening his drawers. Your son panicked and began rambling, “DAD! Holy crap you look younger... Did you use a face mask or something? Anyways I can explain... I didn’t come h-”

“Shut up Brat”

Your son immediately closed his mouth. Younger Levi stared at his appearance, the boy’s hair was a complete replica to his. He has sparkling (e/c) eyes and he looked handsome.

“Why did you call me dad?”

Your son panicked, “DAD..!? I KNEW YOU WERE MAD BUT I NEVER THOUGHT YOU WOULD DISOWN ME!” Even though your son never said it but he really loved his father and he was grateful for raising him to be the respectable man he is now.

Levi looked confused, “Disown..? No I just don’t have a son you idiot! And what do you mean I look ‘Younger’?”

Before (son’s name) could answer his voice was cut off by a melodic voice.

“Levi? What’s wrong?” You asked.

Levi’s gaze somehow soften. You stepped in sight wearing your scout uniform. Your son stared at your smooth (h/c) hair, your beautiful, sparkling, luminous (e/c) eyes and your features were truly angelic. The light was hitting you perfectly making you look like a damn goddess!

“OI BRAT!” Levi yelled.

It caught your son’s attention and he began speaking, “Who... is she?” His voice hitched.

“My girlfriend now stop drooling over her,” Levi replied.

“What about mom?” Your son asked, surprised.

“Again Brat, I’m not your dad!”

“You’re Levi Ackerman right?” Your son questioned.

“Yes?” Levi answered questioningly.

“You married Y/N L/N and got a child right?”

“...”

Levi looked at you and back at the boy. Your eyes widen as if you couldn’t believe what you were hearing... You... You married Levi Ackerman!?!? That’s a bloody dream come true! You’ve always loved him but never had the chance to tell him. You could feel your face turning red.

“Who are you kid?” Levi asked.

“(Son’s name) Ackerman, your son,” Your son answered.

“...”

The silence was irritating. Everyone could hear the wind blowing and you decided to speak.

“Levi... Married... me?” You asked, still trying to process what was happening.

“Not you. Y/N L/N. Well... Y/N Ackerman,”

“I... am... Y/N... L/N” You replied hesitantly.

Your son examined you once more before adding, “Well Dad always said ‘your mother had angelic features with beautiful (e/c) eyes and her (h/c) was smooth and soft and blah blah blah,”

“I respect my father’s stories about mom but I think he’s over exaggerating,” You son added.

If your face was red before it was definitely crimson red now.

“Dad come on... You gonna replace mom with a simple replica?” You son argued.

“Listen brat, if you are even telling the truth. This is Y/N L/N and we’re not even getting married,”

‘Holy crap’ He thought. He went to to the past. When his father told him stories about you, (s/n) thought he exaggerated when he described you but looking at you now... Everything was an understatement.

“YOUR MY MOM” Your son suddenly shouted out and he began rambling again, “Oh my God I’m never hanging out with Hange every again. Did I go to the past? Why are you so angelic mom? Wait can I have a hug please?”

Your son opened his arms trying to get a hug from you. You stared at him for a second before hugging him you didn’t know what pulled you into the hug but this is what you did. He had your both yours and Levi’s features so you somewhat trusted his words.

You were warm... Soft... Real... Alive. He could feel your heart beating from your chest. You’re alive.

“I must’ve traveled to the past... There’s still walls... And this office is different,” Your son explained, “Dad looks so much younger... You’re here and...” He hadn’t realized but he was crying.

“Dad... Mom... Hi” Your son said with a gentle smile.

Levi watched you hugging your son tighter comfortingly. Levi started to panic when his son’s legs were disappearing.

Levi grabbed you away from him and gave him a nod. You gave your son a smile and waved.

Your son didn’t stop crying but he could see his vision getting blurry.

He woke up in Hange’s office. There was his father and Hange and their panicked bickering. Your son stood there still crying. Levi’s attention to him and wanted to scold him but he saw the tears and hugged him instead.

“Your right...” Your son sobbed, “Mom truly had angelic features,”

Levi hugged him tighter and thought he’d ask what happened later but for now he’ll just say,

“I know,”

#levi x you #levi attack on titan #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #Levi ackerman #levi ackerman x y/n #attack on titan

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manchesterau · 4 years ago

Text

my thoughts after reading my policeman: SPOILERSS of course!! (ignore spelling or grammar mistakes) (this is very ramble-y and not as in depth as it could have been sorrryyy lol, if you want specifics send me an ask after reading this)

okay...so i read the book in 3 days....which....im very proud of myself bc it takes me so long to finish books but that’s not why you are reading this.

im not going to lie to you...i liked the book. i love angst, and this had plenty of it and i liked it. if you like books such as: harry potter, six of crows, red queen, red white and royal blue you will not like this book. i know many people found it boring, which yeah i can see that, but i didn't find it boring at all. but mostly because i love boring books but that's beside the point.

the book flowed easily, there isn't a bunch of raunchy sex scenes that ive seen people say it has (i...the things ive read idk what book they even read????) and Tom does has backward views on marriage and what it means to be a wife. but he is not overtly sexist or misogynist or abusive, or subvertly those things either. to be frank he's a scared gay man in the 50s trying to not get caught and thrown in jail. that's literally it. (ill go more into detail on him later). but if you want to read this book i recommend you go in knowing that there will be homophobia (the word queer is used as a slur....3 times or 4 but no more than 5), expect outing, expect not supportive characters, and remember to have some compassion (more on this later).

next i want to go into characters: starting with tom, then Marion, then Patrick, and then the other characters. so if you are planning on reading this book or just dont want to be spoiled them....don't read the next bit.

Tom:

I'm going to get this out of the way.........Tom (who we never get to know outside of the two-point of views we are presented with, and who is being played by Harry) is a police officer in the 50s UK. to be frank when the rumors first went around I was mad like a lot of people were, which is funny because when we got those pictures of harry reading the book before all the speculation we were....happy, that he was reading a book about a gay man. now...I don't care honestly. I could call out the hypocrites (i won't) and honestly I'm hypocritical myself. I use to watch shows like svu (if you were to turn it on right now I wouldn't turn it off) and I enjoyed watching svu. I know and have seen a lot of mutuals, people on my dash enjoy cop shows like b99, or who like actors who have played the character of police before. so it would be hypocritical of me to be mad at him (this is just my single black opinion) and then go and turn on svu (which I don't do anymore).

I'm not saying that no one can be mad, I'm not saying that the anger people have at him playing this role is bad or not needed or valid. all I'm saying is.....is that I don't care. I got angry over this months ago, and all that anger I felt I don't have anymore, and I can't tell you why. Harry is playing an abusive demented husband who traps his wife in a simulation, and then he will play a gay policeman trying not to face persecution..........and that's that. nothing I can say will reach him, he's playing these roles and there is nothing I can do. will I watch them (pirating of course) yes.

anyways let's get back to tom's character (do not use my opinion to silence other black people I will find you....don't do that shit weirdo): tom is......tom?? like I literally was expecting the worst when I read this because of what other people had to say. but as I'm reading him through the eyes of Marion (his wife) and through the eyes of Patrick (his...true love, fuck the 50s I hate the 50s) one word came to mind constantly: scared. Tom is very scared that he will be found out and his life will be ruined. His family knows about him, which is why I think his father (more on him later) pushed him to be in the national service (where he was a cook, which disappointed him). you don't realize his family knows and then his sister says something and then you go 'wait....THEY KNEW???' and then you will go 'oh so that's why-'

tom does have old fashion views that you would expect of any man at that time (gay or not it's the 50s and gay men are still capable of saying sexist shit). when asked by Patrick if women should still work after having a kid he said no it's the men's job to provide, Marion said she would like to keep working, he said no when they do have a baby (they literally never did, and idk why he thought he could be intimate with her for that long to produce a baby lol). that's....the most sexist thing he said in the whole book (there maybe some small things im forgetting but nothing that really stood out). that's it. I know it's not small and that was a legitimate issue in the 50s but yeah. Just in case you were apprehensive about Tom's character being a raging woman-hater, no,....he just wasn't a true feminist yet (???? I don't know that's like..the most this book says about an issue women were facing at this time). It's still bad what he said (you'll see how Marion justifies it in the book and both Patrick and her don't agree and try and challenge him on his view).

i dont want to go too in depth but it is very obvious from the beginning he has no and i mean ZEROOOO interest in her at all (you can tell when it hits him that he needs a wife and he starts to act a littleee different but it's not romantic at alll).

i feel like my review on tom is shit but like!! we don't really get to know him without bias from Patrick and Marion. I think Harry will play a wonderful Tom (even tho he doesn't not fit the description for Tom...at all....like at alllll).

To summarize Tom: very scared gay man from the 50s who is trying to do everything he can to not be found out. his family knows, even he knew at a young age, and yes he does quit being a police officer but it doesn't happen as soon as id like but then again he wasn't one for that long if you pay attention to the years.

Marion:

😑

i just...if yall could see the notes i made on her.....

To summarize Marion: SHE IS LIVING IN LALA LAND, TOM LITERALLY SHOWS HER NO ROMANTIC INTEREST AT ALLL, AND WHEN SHE METS PATRICK FOR THE FIRST TIME SHE FREAKING NOTICES THAT HE'S ALL BLUSH-Y AND SHIT LIKE...GIRL.....

this is a note i wrote that sums up her and tom's relationship (which is more like friends then anything romantic i mean god their honeymoon was horrible and he proposed to her....nvm 😑)

listen...i can't lie and say i didn't feel sorry for her up until the end when she (spoilers: she outs patrick to his employer which ends up with him getting arrested). after that...ive never hated a character more in my fucking LIFEEEE like oh my god i was pissed

all she does is have fantasies about him being romantic with her (holding hands, hugging, etc) and none of them come true...BECAUSE HES GAYYYYYY i really....the author could have done a better job because there were so many damn red flags.

she's fucking annoying and whiny and yeah it sucked to be a woman in the 50s but you literally outed someone your husband was in love with and thought that you could just go back to being married like he's not devastated and instead of telling what you did you stayed unhappy and made your husband thing that at any point they were coming for him too.......*****

Patrick:

PATRICKKKKK

Patrick and tom deserved a fighting fucking chance i hate the fuck 50s fuck you 50s!!!! I absolutely LOVEDDD his pov and seeing Tom through his pov like it was just so damn refreshing seeing the world through his eyes and how he navigates his queerness in the society they live in. (the dichotomy between a proud gay man and a scared maybe proud but fear overrules that (talking about Tom here) gay man).

There was a lot more to say on how gay men were being persecuted at this time than how women were treated in this particular book. There were some little things here and there about what was expected of Marion as a wife and of a girl/woman at that time but it wasn't the focus.

I loved seeing the way Patrick navigated through his world of art and creativity. And how Tom seemed to fit right in with him.

I hate the things the author made Patrick go through (outed, sent to prison, stripped of his job, and later on in the present day he has had 2 strokes in his 70s). it felt a bit much but it's not too distracting (Patricks pov takes place in the past as he writes in his journal).

Patrick and Julia (more on her later) are my two favorites in the whole book (Tom is third bc he's a very multi-facted character, Marion is not even on the list) and I wish we got a lot more of Patrick's pov.

Other characters!! (speed round bc this is wayyy too long):

Syvlie (Tom's sister): SYVLIEEE IM MAD AT YOUU I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU WHYY WHYYY

Julia: JULIAAAAA QUEEENNN (you'll see why i love her at the end)

Tom's parents: his father is abusive point-blank. or at least i think he's abusive (verbally). as im writing this i am now realizing that the way Tom's mom reacts to him (sometimes crying) is bc they knew he was gay omg wow.

tom's dad is very much a man's man guy?? Picture a sexist man from the 50s....now picture him with a gay son.....yeah, I'm not surprised Tom went into national service then to the police force. you can tell he didn't want anyone to find out about Tom so he pushed him to do what he thought best and Tom went with it, scared.

overall: please do not go into this book expected things to be all flowers and rainbows...this is a book about two gay men in the 50s yall.....

there is something to be said about the tragedy that is in a lot of queer stories, I'm more interested in how white these stories are (that's a rant for another time). but I don't mind my policeman, and i think stories like this should be told. because this actually happened (here is a link to em forster's story where the author takes inspiration from, he really had an affair with a policeman!!! who had a wife!!!).

the ending is bittersweet, and i couldn't help but curse for what could have been. Marion could have not outed Patrick (which she instantly regretted), she could have gotten a divorce (she even contemplated it), they could have been more secretive, Julia could have not said what she said. I think Patrick and Tom were sadly doomed from the start, I just wish they had more time together because I loved seeing their love (the little glimpse we got) bloom into something bigger than them.

thank you for reading!! here are random screenshots of my notes as i read this lol enjoy!!

can’t*

#*#my policeman #godd this book...i cant wait for the movie #mp

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milkbread420 · 4 years ago

Note

Yooo that hc/drabble you just did for kuroo and Suna was sooooo good!! Do ya think you could maybe do that again but for iwa and kenma?? if it’s not a bother 😂

Pairings: Iwaizumi x f!reader, Kenma x f!reader

Prompt: The boys have a girl best friend who has feelings for them, but the boys like y/n ( “heather”)

Warnings: Swearing, angst??

a.n: I made the girls nice bc I can’t imagine Iwa or Kenma putting up with a b word (I feel like they would just be like ‘k bye lmao’) & sorry this took so long I had a hard time w Kenma ;-; Next on the list are Oikawa and Sugawara !

I’m so glad you thought so!! I hope this is what you’re lookin for !

Iwaizumi

Iwa talks about you and doesn’t even realize he’s talking about you most of the time

But she doesn’t really say anything because he never looks as at peace as when he’s talking about you

His insecurities & self doubt go poof when you’re with him

You laugh along when he ‘bullies’ Oikawa, so it must be love

She knows she should hate you, but she can’t because you just make him so happy

Oikawa definitely knows about her crush and teases her relentlessly.

Sometimes he goes too far and she gets really pissed

Because it should be her, not you

Hanging out used to be just her, Oikawa, and Iwa

Now Iwa’s always asking “Can y/n come too?”

“She just can’t get enough of me,” -Oikawa

He got beat up for that

Iwa leaves little notes in your locker, telling you how pretty you are or writes you little poems.

Mans is too scared to deliver them himself though, so he makes her do it.

He would make Oikawa do it, but the one time he did, the man memorized the entire poem Iwa wrote to you and would not stop reciting it for a week.

So she’s stuck with the job

Unfortunately

She tries not to peek, but sometimes her curiosity gets the better of her.

Then she wishes she’d never looked.

If she were being honest though, if it couldn’t be her, she was glad it was you, though she’d never really admit it.

You actually get along really well with her.

She hates how easy you are to talk to.

Girl talk definitely happens when the boys aren’t around.

Oikawa knows this, and lets Iwa in on it too

Iwa asks her to see if you’re interested in anyone

That’s how they find out about your crush on Iwa

She had secretly hoped you liked Oikawa

You like Iwa though (of course)

She calls him like right away to tell him because, as much as she wishes it were her, she’s really happy for you both.

Iwa is so happy aww

Like happier than he is after scoring the last point in a game

The next day he tells you to meet him behind the gym before practice.

He confesses and both her and Oikawa catch you sucking faces

She looks like she could scream and cry and smile all at once.

“You know, we could always go on double dates,”

“No, Oikawa”

“She wanted to know how to spike, so I had Oikawa set some balls to her, and she picked up on it pretty well,” Iwa said, leaning back into the office chair in his room with his hands resting on the back of his head, “Especially since she’s never done it before, she’s something else, I’ll tell you that,” he sighed. The girl sitting on the edge of his bed nodded, resting her chin in her palm as she listened to him talk about you, “Oikawa tried to buy her lunch today, just to tick me off,” he frowned, “That bastard,”

“Sounds about right,” she giggled, trying not to show just how bothered she was by the subject.

“I beat him to it though,” he said proudly, “She thanked me,” a blush spread across his cheeks as he recalled the memory of you.

“You sure talk a lot about her,” the girl teased, pretending the ache in her heart just wasn’t there. It was hard to listen to him talk about you. He looked so happy and content when he was rambling on about how pretty you were, or how nice you were.

Iwa jumped out of his chair, “No I don’t!” he said loudly, “Do I?” she nodded, “Man, I just can’t get her off my mind,” he huffed in frustration, and she realized just what that meant, “Everything reminds me of her,” he was in love, “This is stupid,” he frowned. She chuckled, and he sunk back into the chair, “You don’t think she’s using me to get close to Oikawa do you?”

“I don’t think so,” she wanted to say yes, just so he’d get over you and she’d have him to herself, but seeing how happy you made him, she just couldn’t lie. She was willing to bet you liked him too.

A small sigh of relief escaped him, “Good,” he said, “I didn’t think so either, but I wanted a girl’s opinion, honestly,”

“Well there you have it,” she smiled.

He smiled too, but somehow she knew it wasn’t for her.

“So,” Oikawa grinned at the girl, “Just how obvious were you trying to make your crush on Iwa-chan?” she sighed and tried to ignore him, walking briskly through the school corridor in an attempt to get him to stop following her, “Hey now, don’t ignore me!” he whined.

“I don’t want to talk about that, Oikawa,” she said, “It’s none of your business,”

“Oh but it is!” the brunette persisted, “Iwa-chan’s business is my business,” he said with a signature fake smile, “Plus, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, you get what I’m saying?” She stopped in the middle of the rather empty hall, “Ooh, too far?”

“Asshole,” she said, continuing towards her next class.

“Look, my point was that he’s got the hots for y/n, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” The brunette said, “So don’t get in the way and make things all weird,”

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she said cooly.

“Oikawa? Are you ditching?” Iwaiziumi’s irritated voice made them both snap their heads towards him.

“Iwa-chan! No, we just needed to have a talk is all,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, “I’ll be going now! See you guys after school right?” the girl nodded, still looking like she could punch the snarky brunette in the throat any second.

“Oh yeah,” Iwa said, “Since you’re both here, would it be fine if I asked y/n to come with us? She had plans with some friends, but they all crapped out on her last minute,” his fist balled at his side at the thought of you being ditched, “I thought we could cheer her up,” he finished. His friends looked at each other. Oikawa nodded first, then looked at the girl expectantly; she nodded too, “Cool,” he said, “Thanks,” and he walked into his classroom, not looking back at either of them. “That’s gonna leave a mark,” Oikawa noted as he watched the girl collect the pieces of her heart, her eyes reflecting the hurt she felt somewhere deep down.

“Fuck off,”

Her day passed especially slow knowing that as soon as the last bell rang, she’d have to face you. She hadn’t really met you yet, but it sure felt like she had by the way Iwa talked about you. She wondered if you would live up to his hype, then found herself thinking, of course you would. Hajime Iwaizumi was never one to exaggerate, so you must have truly been amazing.

She hoped to god she was wrong, she hoped to find a reason to hate your guts.

The usual trio, plus one, met in front of the gym after school. You were almost hiding behind Iwa, and the tall brunette chuckled, “She’s even shyer than I remembered!”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, bowing your head a bit, “It’s just, you’re all so cool, and it’s really nice that you let me join you today,” Oh god, you were as amazing as he’d said. Not only were you kind, but you were every bit prettier than she’d even imagined. Iwaizumi looked over at you and grinned and it made her so jealous that you could completely steal his attention with the tiniest gesture if you so desired, because everything about you was so mesmerizing, she caught herself staring.

“No need to thank us,” Iwaizumi smiled, pushing your shoulder playfully; you blushed and she looked at you as you looked up at her.

“Hello y/n,” she said with a smile that she wished she was forcing, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“It’s nice to meet you too!” you smiled back. She swore she could’ve been blinded by the radiance you emitted, it was truly no wonder he had feelings for you, in all honesty she thought it might be crazier if he didn’t.

“Shall we be on our way ladies and Iwa-chan?” Oikawa grinned, wiggling his brows at you and Iwa, who gave him a well-deserved smack on the back of the head. You giggled, “Hey!” Oikawa complained, “Don’t laugh!”

“Don’t get smacked,” You teased with a sly shrug.

Dear god you were perfect for him.

“Watcha’ got there, Hajime?” the girl asked as the boy pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper from his locker. His cheeks turned pink for just a second, covered quickly by a click of his tongue.

“It’s a letter for his girlfriend!” Oikawa teased, coming up behind them, “Right, Iwa-chan?” she grimaced at the word, her heart sinking into the pit of her stomach as she looked down at her feet.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Crappykawa!” he shouted, folding his arms over his chest in momentary annoyance.

“Not yet,” the brunette teased, and if she were to be completely honest, she wasn’t sure which one of them he was trying to provoke, “That’s a love letter right?” Oikawa leaned in to look at the folded paper; Iwaizumi shoved him away, “Or is it another poem?”

Iwaizumi’s head snapped up, “Shut up!” he grumbled, then turned to the girl, “Do you think you could drop it off in her locker later?” he asked her hesitantly. Oikawa chuckled to himeself, wondering how his best friend could be so casually cruel to the girl.

“Sure!” she replied, her heart breaking to the gentle smile that spread across his lips.

“Thanks,” he muttered, handing her the paper; it was just a piece of paper wasn’t it? Then why did it feel like a weapon that could tear her apart on the inside with just a single curious glance? That lone piece of paper held the power to leave her heart in shambles.

She nodded, “No problem!”

How could she be so cruel to herself?

“So,” she started hesitantly, tilting her head towards you. In the past weeks, you’d actually grown rather close, and as much as it pained her to admit, she’d grown quite fond of you, “I’m glad you came over tonight, I know you’ve been busy with school work and your club stuff,” she said.

You smiled at her, “I know you’ve been pretty busty too, so thank you for having me!” giving her a small wave, you opened her front door

She nodded with a clenched her jaw, bracing herself for the words that were about to come out of her mouth, “Hey,” Iwaizumi had asked her to find out who you liked, he even made a stupid bet with Oikawa about it. He was so sure that you liked him, he swore that there was no way all those stolen glances didn’t mean anything. When he talked about it, it made her wonder why he was so blind to her feelings.

“Yeah?” you asked, unaware of the flashing bitterness in her eyes.

She swallowed hard, “You have feelings for Hajime, right?”

You blushed and looked down, “Wow, is it that obvious?” she nodded, “Yeah,” you said, “I guess it is,” a soft smile played at your lips, “You think he likes me too?” She froze. Even though she should have seen it coming, she couldn’t help but feel unprepared to answer that question.

For more reasons than one.

She didn’t want to steal her best friend’s big moment, he really should be the one to tell you, but it would crush you if she told you he didn’t or that she didn’t know; and that was her problem. She wanted to want to crush you, to completely leave you devastated and heartbroken so that you’d break his heart too and he’d go to her and realize that it had always been her, but she couldn’t find it in herself. Even if she could, it would never be her, always you.

You were good for him. He was more confident when you were around. When you showed up to his games, he always played better. He was happier too, smiling a lot more, especially when you laughed at his jokes and antics.

She settled on, “Well he talks about you a lot,” with a small smile that she almost couldn’t force onto her face.

You smiled and blushed, trying to hide your obvious excitement as you left her house without another word.

She called Iwaizumi right away to tell him the good news.

Good news for him, at least.

The next day at school, Iwaizumi was sweating buckets. Finally, the last bell had rung and he was on his way to meet you behind the gym like he’d asked, the girl following him for moral support.

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous,” he said, “I’m not even this nervous before a game,” she knew why. It was because he was head over heels for you, and even though he knew you had feelings for him, he couldn’t shake the fear of confronting you about it. Your pretty eyes looking into his would certainly be enough to make him weak in the knees, and he imagined himself a stuttering mess the second he opened his mouth in front of you; he groaned in frustration and stopped in his tracks, “I can’t do it,”

“What?” she asked, silently hoping that maybe he’d realized you weren’t the one, “Why not?” somehow she already knew she was wrong.

Then he sighed, “She’s just so perfect, I want this to go just as perfect, but I don’t think I can do that,”

She felt a pain in her chest, “You have do do it,” she spat her words out like they were poison in her mouth, it felt wrong betraying her heart.

Iwa nodded firmly, “You’re right,” he took a deep breath and started walking again towards the place he’d told you to meet him. He knew you’d be there, but when he saw you, Iwaizumi stopped and felt like he could drop dead any second.

“You wanted to talk?” you asked, a glimmer of confidence in your eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “So, listen-”

Before he could get even a word in edgewise, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. He tensed at first, but only for a brief moment before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

The girl watched with a heavy heart from behind the wall, her head just peeking around the corner, “Finally,” she jumped at the sudden voice, “I was scared he’d chicken out.”

“He was going to,” she grumbled as she turned to the tall brunette.

“Oh?”

“He was really nervous, but I told him he had to do it,” she explained, wondering to herself why she’d encouraged the breaking of her own heart.

“If you love something, let it go, right?” Oikawa sighed and she realized that he’d put it better than she could have thought to at the moment.

She watched as Iwaizumi smiled and held your face in his hands, gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs; you blushed and wrapped your hands around his wrist, smiling back at him.

“Right.”

___

Kenma

Kenma really likes you, but I’m sorry, he never talks about you

The only reason she knows he likes you is because one day she’s like, “don’t you have a crush on anyone?”

and he’s just like, “y/n is really cool,”

She knows that means he really likes you

She’s crushed but doesn’t show it because she’s scared of him finding out she likes him

She starts talking to you a lot more after she finds out about his feelings for you

Asks you to help her study hoping Kenma will join

Kenma didn’t ask her to, she just does because she knows he’s way too shy aww

She doesn’t even try to hate you to be honest, she’s actually almost excited, because Kenma actually smiles when you’re around.

She wished he were smiling at her though

She’s really good at hiding her feelings for him

He’s lowkey jealous of how much time you spend with her bc of your study sessions

so he confronts her about it one day

She’s like ??? You know you could just come study out with us ???

He says he’s not up for it but Kuroo has his ways

Y’all have a group study session and you guys are really tense like, it’s hella awkward.

Things get a little better by the end though

You start hanging out with their group more often after that

One day she invites you both to this arcade but then at the last minute she dips and makes up an excuse for why she couldn’t go

That was Kuroo’s idea

After hanging out one on one Kenma is like in love aww

He gets home that night to her and Kuroo waiting for him BECAUSE THEYVE BEEN FOLLOWING YOU GUYS THE WHOLE NIGHT

He’s like ¿? But tells them about how it was a great time and he REALLY likes you

“we been knew”

I think she knows he’ll never like her, so I don’t think she really gets her hopes up and she doesn’t try to sabotage you or anything

It still hurt like a buttcheek on a stick when she saw you kissing him

“That should be me holding your hand that should be me making you laugh that should be me this is so sad”

“Kenma,” she asked quietly as her and the boy tapped away at a game, both pairs of eyes fixed on the screen.

“Yeah?” Kenma replied after a couple of seconds, trying not to lose his focus on the game.

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” she was trying to maybe drop a couple of hints, and nudge him towards the idea of him having a girlfriend and it being her. She hadn’t expected him to pause the game and look at her though.

“You sound like Kuroo,” he said flatly, “Why do I need a girlfriend? It’s not like I could get one anyway,” the boy shrugged and fiddled with the controller in his hands.

She frowned, “Don’t say that,” He shrugged again, and she took the chance to dip her toes in the water, “is there anyone catching your eye though?”

“What do you mean?” He asked blankly.

“Like, a crush!” She rolled her eyes and set down the controller, “is there anyone you like?” the girl felt her heart beathing out of her chest when he smiled softly and only for a brief second.

“I think y/n is really nice, you know, the girl in out Japanese Lit class?” He mumbled, a blush spreading across his cheeks, almost covered by his hair.

“Oh!” She pulled her toes out of the metaphorical water as her heart sank into the pit of her stomach, “right, y/n,” she said, “she’s really nice!” Kenma nodded and turned his attention back to the game, clicking the play button.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she continued, spamming the different buttons mindlessly, too heartbroken to care about the game anymore.

“You suck,” Kenma noted.

For the rest of the time they sat and played in silence.

“y/n, do you think you could help me out with this question?” The girl leaned in towards your desk and pointed to one of the many questions on the assignment. Kenma watched silently from a couple desks behind both of you.

“Sure!” You said leaning closer to her; you smelled nice and that was the first thing she noticed. It was like she short circuited the moment she drew in a breath, she wondered if you were some magic creature like one she’d seen while playing video games with Kenma,“Wait, which one was it?” You asked sheepishly, snapping her out of her daze.

“Oh,” she shook herself lightly, “number nineteen,” she said, pointing to the question on the paper.

“Ah! This ones not too bad,” you smiled and went on to explain, which she only half picked up on because she was too busy staring at you, “You got it?”

She nodded absentmindedly, “Yeah, thanks!”

“Anytime,” you smiled and shifted your focus back onto your work.

“See you after school, right?” she asked with a smile.

You nodded, “Of course!” For a couple weeks, you had been helping her study for the Japanese Lit midterm in the library after school. After she found out Kenma liked you, she thought it might be a good way for him to get to know you better.

Her plan hadn’t gone exactly according to plan though, Kenma never actually stayed for the study sessions which left her alone with you. At first, she’d tried to find it in herself to be disgruntled, but you were just so kind to her, and so helpful, she couldn’t resent you, and you’d actually gotten rather acquainted with each other.

After class, she was still packing up a few moments after the bell, and Kenma stood by her desk, an irritated expression on his face. She looked at him, confused, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he shrugged as she stood up and they walked out of the classroom together in silence.

“y/n’s really sweet,” she said, trying to get him talking. He only hummed and nodded in agreement. The girl knew something was wrong, but for the life of her she couldn’t figure it out, and he surely wasn’t telling her, so she persisted, “you know, if you wanna get to know her you could join our study session after school today,” it felt like the millionth time she’d suggested that.

“No thanks,” he shrugged.

The girl frowned, “Well fine,” she grumbled, “Why are you so cranky?”

“It’s nothing,” he said.

She shot him a glare, “It’s obviously not nothing,”

“Let’s drop it okay?”

The girl looked down, “Kenma, just tell me,” he eyes were sad and she felt like nothing at all, nothing if her best friend didn’t trust her with his feelings, “I’m your friend aren’t I?”

The boy sighed in defeat, “You’ve been talking to y/n a lot, and I guess I’m just a little jealous,” he admitted, “of how easy it is for you, I want to talk to her like that too,”

Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach. He was jealous of her? To be frank, it made her a little irritated that she was putting in so much effort to get to know you just so he could too, and he had the nerve to say he was jealous. She’d invited him countless times to your mini study sessions at the library after school, and he’d declined all of them; you probably thought he hated you by the way he seemed to avoid you like the plague. And as much as it pained her to know that he was pining for a girl that wasn’t her, she wanted him to be happy, she loved when he smiled, even if the smile wasn’t for her.

“Well, if you don’t hang out with her, you’re never gonna get to know her,” she huffed, “and if you never get to know her, how do you expect her to like you back?”

“I don’t really,” he shrugged, “I’m okay admiring from a distance,”

She rolled her eyes, “You always settle for less than you could have,” he looked at her, “Whatever, Kenma,” annoyed, she sped away to her next class, leaving him alone and a bit confused.

The girl was angry, and as she did her assignment during the last class of the day, she found it hard to focus. She was bothered by the fact that she’d gone so far for her friend, disregarding her own feelings, just so he had a chance at happiness, and he was completely rejecting her efforts.

“Uh, you good?” a voice came from behind her, shaking her from her thoughts. She frowned as she turned around, “Jeez, what’d I do?”

A sigh left her lips, “Sorry, Kuroo,” she said, “I’m just in a bad mood,”

He hummed, “Did Kenma tick you off?” She nodded, “What is it this time, he doesn’t see your obvious feelings for him?” the boy smirked and the girl blushed, getting even more annoyed by the third year’s teasing.

“Shut up,” the girl said, “At least I can talk to him without mentioning the periodic table,” she sneered.

He looked at her with raised brows, “Tough talk for someone who can’t even name the first fifteen elements.”

She frowned, “Says the third year who’s taking a second year English class,”

“Touche,” he nodded slowly, leaning forward, “Look, if you want, I can talk to him,”

Her expression shifted, “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, maybe I can talk him into going to the study thing after school,” he shrugged. The girl smiled. Though she wanted to be the one to convince him, she figured this would have to be what she settled for.

After the last bell rang, the girl dashed to the library, waiting for you at the entrance. You smiled and waved, offering her a greeting as you both walked in and unpacked at a table.

“Hey ladies, have room for two more?” the girl lifted her head and frowned, looking at the pair. That certainly was not the plan she’d had in mind, playing third wheel was bad enough, but fourth wheel, really?

“Kuroo, don’t bother them, see, they’re busy,” Kenma said quietly, averting his gaze from you.

“I don’t mind!” you cheered, looking over at the girl, “As long as you don’t mind,”

“Nope,” she glared at Kuroo, and he grinned, “I don’t mind.”

“See! They don’t mind Kenma,” the black-haired boy said, taking a seat next to the girl across from you, which forced Kenma to take the seat next to you.

“Okay,” he said dully, carefully sitting down beside you, not daring to so much as steal a glance at you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and hurt for a moment. You wondered why he was so cold towards you, it wasn’t like you’d been mean to him, in fact, you’d tried especially hard to be nice to him during the few interactions you’d had, so it didn’t make sense.

“y/n, can you help me with the second one?” the girl asked immediately, pulling you from your thoughts. You looked over at the quiet boy for just a moment before diverting your attention to her.

“Yeah,” you went on to explain the question and it’s answer while Kenma folded his arms and glared at Kuroo.

“Hey, y/n,” Kuroo said. You looked up, “Kenma needs help on the fifth one,” Kenma’s glare became more intense and he kicked his friend from under the table.

Your eyes fell on the boy and he just looked down at his paper, “Oh the analogies can be tough,” you said.

He nodded simply, “Yeah,”

You internally screamed at his lack of response, feeling a bit embarrassed, “So were you able to rule any out?” you asked, tapping your fingers on the table anxiously.

“Well, I know it’s not ‘A’,” he said, still refusing to look at you.

“Okay! That’s good, so then take another look at the question, and figure out the context,” you explained, “these types of questions are all about context,”

He nodded and gave the question another look as you waited anxiously for his response, “Is it ‘D’?” he asked.

You nodded fervently, “Yeah! Nice!” A soft smile spread across his lips, and the girl across from you felt like her heart was being ripped out and dissected right in front of her. Though you probably hadn’t even realized it, you were making his day, he would be thinking about that moment for the rest of the night and she knew it; she wished it were her he thought about like that, though.

Noticing the expression on the girl’s face, Kuroo spoke up, “Hey, we’re gonna go get some drinks from the vending machine, you guys want anything?”

“Oh sure,” you said, rummaging through your bag for some spare change.

Kenma nodded and handed Kuroo enough for two drinks; his and yours.

Kuroo raised a brow and smirked, “y/n, that’s alright, Kenma’s gotcha covered,”

“Oh!” you were beyond ecstatic, but you repressed the gigantic smile that wanted to force its way onto your face so you wouldn’t freak him out, “Thank you so much, Kozume!” you offered him a polite smile instead.

Kenma nodded, “It’s no problem,” he said flatly, “you can call me Kenma, by the way,”

You blushed lightly, but he didn’t really notice. The girl did though, and it made her lose all hope; he liked you and she was almost certain now that you liked him.

“Well, we’ll leave you two to make out or whatever,” Kuroo teased and you blushed harder.

“Kuroo, don’t say things like that,” Kenma said as his friends turned around.

Kuroo laughed, but the girl could only think about one thing.

In the six years they’d known each other, Kenma had never once paid for anything for her.

It had been a few weeks since the group study session, and you’d gotten a lot closer to Kenma, Kuroo and the girl. Although the other two were nice, you had a special fondness for Kenma. Your heart raced whenever he talked to you, and when he said your name you swore you’d die of a heatstroke. You knew before that you found him attractive, but now, you had realized you were completely crushing on the boy and you thought it was obvious, but he hand’t seemed to pick up on it; if he had, he certainly hadn’t made any attempt to acknowledge it.

A sigh escaped your lips at the thought that maybe he was just ignoring your feelings because he didn’t like you in that way.

“y/n?” the boy mumbled. You were visibly startled by his voice, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,”

You shook your head and smiled, “It’s fine, just caught me off guard,” you had been waiting for him and the other two to show up and you had simply gotten lost in thought.

“Uh, the others said they couldn’t make it today,” Kenma said sheepishly, “So if you don’t wanna go anymore, that’s okay,”

There was no way you were about to pass up a chance at alone time with Kenma, “No! I’d like to go still, if you’re okay with it,” it would be nice to spend time with him without Kuroo’s relentless teasing.

“Oh,” he said, sounding a little surprised, “Yeah, it’s alright with me,”

“Cool!” You grinned, and started walking alongside Kenma.

You were really nervous, and unbeknownst to you, so was he. Every time your hand would get too close to his, you’d both jerk away and look anywhere but each other and mumbling quiet apologies.

“So,” you started, dreading the awkward silence that fell over you and him, “I’ve never been to this place, what’s it like?”

Kenma looked up at you, “It’s an old fashioned arcade,” he told you, a bit of excitement laced in his tone, “They have a lot of old games, I think you’ll like it,”

“I think I will too!” you said with a smile. He blushed and looked down, trying to quickly compose himself.

“Oh,” he pointed, “We’re almost there,” you could see the big sign and flashing lights and you grinned.

As you walked in, Kenma held the door for you and you thanked him; it was a simple enough gesture, but it made your heart flutter.

You spent hours and hours at the arcade, playing every game you saw, and competing at each one for the highest score; you lost almost all of them, but you managed to win a couple by pure luck, but with him, even losing made you happy. He also really enjoyed your time together, and you realized it was the first time you’d seen him laughing so much.

After a long day at school, and a great night at the arcade, Kenma walked you home, and your heart felt warm when he said, “You know, I’m kinda glad it was just us tonight, I had a really great time with you,”

A huge smile spread across your lips, “I had a great time with you too,” your arms flew around him in a hug and as soon as you realized what you were doing, you pulled away and coughed, “Sorry,”

He smiled softly, “It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” your mouth hung open a bit as he took a shaky step towards you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time ever. You exhaled sharply, taken aback by how pretty and expressive his eyes were, “I uh...” he trailed off, breaking eye contact for just a moment, “I really like you, y/n,” he said.

You blinked a couple times and pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming, “Kenma,” he felt like dying when you said his name, he thought you about to reject him, so he braced himself but it never came, “I really like you too!” He smiled softly and you grabbed one of his hands, then got on your toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. His eyes shot open and fluttered shut all in the same second, “Wow,” you mumbled. He stared at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, “Oh no was that too soon?” You panicked. He just shook his head and you breathed a sigh of relief, “Oh, good,”

He stood there for a moment, collecting his thoughts before he was able to speak, “Goodnight y/n,” Kenma said, “I hope we can do that again,” a blush spread across his face and you nodded, a little giggle escaping your lips as he turned and walked away.

As soon as got home, Kuroo and the girl were waiting at his porch, “Well I think the jury’s reached their verdict, all in favor of Kenma being in love say ‘I’,” The boy furrowed his brows, “I can’t believe you didn’t notice us following you the whole night,”

“It was Kuroo’s idea,” the girl added quietly, and kenma could tell she was upset, but he couldn’t figure out what she was upset about. He chose to brush it off for the time being, too excited about what had just happened to let anyone get him down.

“Guilty as charged,” Kuroo said, putting his hands up on defeat, “So, are you guys dating now or what?” The girl nervously awaited the answer, though no matter the outcome, she knew she would be disappointed.

“Not yet, I don’t think,” Kenma said, “But I really like her a lot.”

Kuroo knew that.

She knew that.

But watching you kiss him from a distance, and hearing him say those words was a new realm of heartbreak.

“I’m really happy for you two, Kenma!”

She was happy for you both.

But she pitied herself too.

#iwaizumi hajime #kenma kozume #anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq x reader #kenma x reader #hajime iwaizumi x reader #hq #kenma kozume x reader #hq headcanons

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heyitsyn · 4 years ago

Text

'Siri Am I Having a Stroke?�� Sofia the First

Soulmate!Daichi x Reader Soulmate!Tendou x Reader

a/n: lmao, yall finna know what kind of soulmate au this

when your soulmate gets hurt, you kinda get hurt too

the music your soulmate listens to or constantly sings is always playing in your head

request: Can I request a daichi, tendou, and aone soulmate au headcanon 🤲🏽😩 they're my faves, I wanted to add some more but there could be a limit? I'll request again next time ^^

a/n: sorry anon but ill only do daichi and tendou bc im not very familiar with aone :( but theres not really a limit so go ahead!!

requests open!!

so anyways

for most of your life, you thought you didnt even have a soulmate

there were no scars, no bruises,

nothing

this other half of yours was completely silent and you really thought that youd die forever

but, you

you were a wild chile and you were the type to go playing outside w your brothers and get a lot of cuts

maybe that was why you thought you didnt have a soulmate bc when your soulmate does get hurt, you wouldnt see it since youd think it was one of your own

now, daichi

he worried for you

new scars and bruises would appear on his arms overnight and he fussed over the fact that you would constantly getting hurt

were you in a toxic environment?

were these intentional?

but he would try and heal them, thinking that it would heal you too bc he didnt want you to be hurt

uwu daichi luv

he would even kiss them better bc his mom told him that kisses help them heal faster

then,

during middle school, daichi found his love for volleyball

he started training and being more active and that caused him a lot of bruises and pain

meanwhile w you,

youve mellowed out a bit

so when you entered middle school,

you were actually ecstatic to find that you had a soulmate bc you would find bruises on your hands and arms

you found out the afternoon of the first day of middle school

daichi was in the gym, practicing during lunch, and he hit a spike that bruised his fingers and he received a really powerful ball

you were sitting in class, completely bored out of your mind so you just doodled on your paper

then you flinched at the sudden pain and saw the formation of the beautiful mix of blue, purple,green, bruise

yall are in different schools btw

you shrieked and stood up, cutting off your teacher and surprising everyone in the room

‘my soulmate!’

they were like, ‘okay and?’

the entire day, you admired the colors, not even minding the hurt bc this was it!!

!!!!

your soulmate was real!!!

but daichi was worried that you were also going through the same pain and soreness from practice

and you were

after the shock and happiness of knowing you in fact do have a soulmate,

youve started getting annoyed

was this what he felt whenever you injured yourself during your younger years?

bc this waas annoying

you were constantly fatigued, tired, sore

even the mere action of getting up in the morning sucked and you actually fell down the stairs due to the soreness of your legs and you dropped your chopsticks due to the hurt in your fingers

youve concluded that your soulmate was either an athlete or in a toxic environment

during the walk to school, you raised your arms and watched a new bruise forming

it was a truly beautiful sight but the stiffness and hurt weighed it down

this was your only form of communication with your soulmate and you were sad bc you wanted to be there for him and help heal his bruises and scars

one of your friends suggested a crazy thought of hurting yourself to write a small message which you instantly turned down bc thats too crazy and you will not do that

as the years went on, you were starting to get more worried each day that you wont be meeting your soulmate soon

for almost 6 years, youve wandered over to every athletic club in your school or nearby schools to find if there was even a person who had the same bruises as you

ngl, some lied just bc they wanted you as their soulmate uwu

one of your classmates in seijoh, iwaizumi hajime, has understood your dilemma since he was one of the ones youve expressed this concern to

youve been classmates for 3 years and youve always been coincidentally sat next to each other so youre close

i really cant resist my mans

‘y/n, i really think your soulmate is a volleyball player’

you rolled your eyes as you continued taking out your bento

‘iwa, ive checked your team, multiple times, and none of them are my soulmate! ive even checked other schools too since my brothers have connections there. but still nothing’

he felt bad for you, truly

he already found his when yall started high school, almost immediately, and you were so jealous

‘but those bruises on your arm can only be from volleyball. the way its placed, its like receiving an intense ball while the fingers might be because he spikes the ball’

you sighed before leaning your chin on your hand

‘okay, great buddha iwa-chan. enlighten me as to why you think so’

his eye twitched at the ridiculous nickname

‘y/n, im a volleyball player. ive been playing since i was like 6 and im the ace. i have those same exact bruises’

‘WHAT! IWA-CHAN ARE YOU MY SOULMATE?!’

‘YOU IDIOT I ALREADY HAVE MINE!’

but you mulled it over for a few days

yea, it would make sense, right?

but it still doesnt add up that youve literally visited every single club around with the help of being iwa’s friend and going to their matches

however,

due to karasuno not having practice matches w seijoh or not advancing far enough to play against them, youve never really interacted with that team

besides, the times they actually played against each other, youve been busy due to having to do interships, part time jobs, and studying since it was your last year of high school

it was during the second interhigh that iwa finally got you to go watch them play

‘come on, y/n. shittykawa misses you and matsun and maki keep demanding your support’

‘iwa, what-’

so you found yourself at the stands, just watching the games until seijoh actually plays

then you saw the team, known as karasuno, enter the gym to start their warm-ups

your heart started beating really fast and you were kinda freaking out bc what was happening

‘siri am i having a stroke?’

daichi was feeling the same thing

he thought it was just the adrenaline of playing a game but in all of his years of play8ing volleyball, he hasnt felt this intense beating of his heart

he even had to lean on suga for support bc it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest

‘daichi, you okay?’

suga worriedly asked and placed a hand on his forehead to check his temp

daisuga rights yall

he didnt want to worry the team so he nodded, just waving it off

he was captain so he shouldnt worry the others

oikawa and iwa entered the stands and were confused as to why you were looking around with wide eyes like an owl

fukurodani vibes

‘y/n-chan, what’s wrong?’

oikawa asked and you looked at them, surprised and shocked

they were lowkey freaked out bc what was happening

‘oikawa-san, my heart-’

you mumbled and pointed to your chest

his smile wobbled bc you just started at him and it was starting to scare him a bit

since oikawa hasnt found his soulmate yet, he wasnt familiar with the feeling of being in the same vicinity as his other half

but iwa did

and he was smiling

‘you owe me so much, y/n’

‘IWA! I FEEL LIKE IM GOING TO DIE!’

karasuno was going against johzenji and daichi wasnt exactly in his best game

to others, he looked like he was doing great but he wasnt feeling good and the beat of his heart was still very fast

this distraction caused him and tanaka to collide and everything went to hell

the entire time, your arms were crying and you were just sweating from the pain but you were also sweating w the possibility of your soulmate being either in johzenji or karasuno

but that was answered when daichi got hurt and you just collapsed, also falling unconscious

iwa, who returned from getting drinks, ran to your slumped form and oikawa, who was focused on the match and didnt notice, shrieked at your unconscious form

‘y/n? y/n, wake up’

everyone in the stands stared at your unconscious form and they started talking, eventually catching the attention of the karasuno team

suga, who was fussing over daichi, heard that a girl also fell unconscious

omg what if

oikawa was grinning at the sight of your bruised cheek bc you finally found your soulmate so you would shut up about it

iwa carried you to the nurse and you actually woke up as he placed you on the bed, conviently beside the karasuno captain

‘w-what-’

but he only smiled

‘congratulations, y/n’

bih what

congratulations for what

the nurse went over from beside daichi and she giggled at the meeting of soulmates

you sat up, wincing at the pain in your tooth

‘ow’

that caught daichi’s attention and he stared at you and your arms before looking at his

they were the exact same

‘i think,,,, i think we’re soulmates’

that made you quickly look at him and noticed the big bruise on his face that was like copy paste on you

‘oh god!’

you cowered and had your hands over your mouth in surprise

he froze, starting to feel insecure that he wasnt what you wanted

‘is something wrong-’

‘you’re HOT!!’

you shrieked unconsciously and when you finally realized it, you hurriedly pulled the blanket over your form

lmao gurl noooooo

daichi started laughing and he thought you were cute

straightforward

but cute

‘oi, come on. i want to see your pretty face’

yes police officer. this is the man who stole my uwus

you peaked your head out from your blanket cocoon and he smiled softly

‘i’m sawamura daichi, by the way. 3rd year’

‘l-l/n y/n. same y-year’

‘so? you expected me to be this?’

you shook your head

‘i mean, iwa told me you could be a volleyball player. but i didnt expect the universe to like me enough to give me a greek god as my soulmate’

im disowning y/n yall

he turned flustered and looked away to hide his blush

‘youre not too bad yourself, you know. youre actually more beautiful than i thought’

‘sir! dont say that to me i be catching feelings way too fast for that!’

i-i cannot w you

he laughed out loud before wincing, causing you to wince too

‘but are you okay, though? i mean,, it must hurt’

but you shook your head

‘i should be asking you that. does it hurt as much as it looks?’

‘nah, its bearable’

you continued talking about your childhood and you actually clarified that you were just rambunctious when you were younger so you got hurt pretty often

‘i really thought you needed to be saved or something’

you smirked

‘oh? my prince charming? knight-in-shining-armor? knight prince daichi?’

he stared at you, a blush creeping up again

‘are you always this bold?’

you shrugged

‘meh. im friends w oikawa tooru’

‘oh. makes sense’

lmao

you both completely forgot about the fact that his face literally got hurt and his tooth was gone bc you have been talking like two best friends who got separated

but you had to separate at some point too

the beautiful manager entered the clinic and asked if daichi was okay enough

‘yea, im fine. i can go now, i guess’

you nodded sadly

‘okay. bye, daichi’

he furrowed his eyebrows

‘but wait for me later, okay? ill treat you to something after i win this match’

from your bed, you crossed your arm with a smug smile

‘oh? youre confident, captain’

‘of course. ill win bc this victory is for you’

you bashfully smiled and chuckled

‘go hurry and win! i expect that date as soon as possible, captain!’

the deadchi memes are literally scaring the new fans and i feel really bad

bruh hes so cute for what

for his entire life, he had the sofia the first song stuck in his head

it was maybe bc his soulmate was in love w that show or just in love w the song

but either way, he constantly hears it and thinks about it

meanwhile you,

you constantly heard bye bye bye by nsync

of all things, it had to be a boy band

however, you were lucky bc for years it varied on what song would be playing

but for him, it continued to be sofia the first

this drived him to watch the show and he did see the appeal and soon, he started singing it too

omg its such a bop

you were triggered bc the song then switched over to sofia the first and you were like, ‘does he like it too?’

you would be going around the store, holding your mom’s hand, and singing it out loud, hoping to find your soulmate

but he never seemed to hear it

instead, hearing the song in your voice, instead of the show’s

he thought you had such a beautiful voice

then in elementary school, his bullying started and ngl, he was actually hurt by the words other kids said

he still had his cute smile on and acted like it didnt bother by teasing others but he was still sad

did nobody like him?

was he always going to look like a monster?

would you be revolted if you saw him?

then he heard this song in the radio ‘dear insecurity’ and he just couldnt help but keep listening to it

ofc you noticed and you were sad that he was listening to such sad song

he was insecure and you couldnt do anything about it

then you started looking up motivating songs and you started singing the one that you really liked

‘i see your monsters, i see your pain, tell me your problems, i’ll chase them away’

he heard your voice as he was hiding behind the school building and his tears instantly stopped, hearing a different song but he couldnt help but smile

he knew that song was for him

you were out there somewhere and a complete stranger to him but you were the only person who seemed to care

because under that teasing and cheerful personality, he was still human and he was very insecure about himself

but you were always there to encourage him, your voice instantly chasing all the fears away

when he started playing volleyball, he became famous for his efficient blocks and you could hear him singing different songs, all of them just under a minute

you concluded that they were his own songs

sometimes, you laughed bc they were funny songs and catchy so you would memorize it and sing it back to him

this was your only way of communicating back of forth and you were so lucky that you even got to hear your soulmate’s voice

then high school started, meaning your friends started meeting their soulmates one by one until you were the only one who didnt

your school, karasuno, had no one that had the same voice as your soulmate’s

some people even saw you as an extrovert and a people person since you started conversations with strangers easily but this was just your way of finding your other half

with no luck, you started singing your concerns

in no time, ‘thousand miles’ was playing on loop in tendou’s head and he was already feeling your antsy attitude

in retaliation, he starts singing ‘lucky’ by jason mraz and you always turned red, slightly happy that he was practically calling out to you

so even though you suffered through years being alone, you didnt give up on hope and continued your search

now, youd be asking, ‘why cant you or tendou just sing each other’s location?’

yes, young grasshopper, there is an explanation to that

you and tendou collectively agreed to let fate do its work and just wait for the time it happens bc if its meant to be, its meant to be

besides, tendou likes to tease you and he wants to make you wait for him so that the moment you do meet, it would become more special

in your last year of high school, you ended up helping kiyoko in being manager and you were so proud of these boys for making it to the finals

you were excitedly waving an orange flag in support of your team and you screamed with the others as they entered the court

you and yacchi ended up helping tanaka’s sister, saeko, and was setting up the plan for their cheers so you werent exactly focused on your soulmate

but tendou did keep hearing a fight song in your head

then they walked in

shiratorizawa made their presence known and you turned to look at them but locked eyes at the unique looking player

his red hair glinted against the bright lights of the gym and his smirk curled in such an attractive way that you were leaning forward to get a closer look

tendou noticed a stare at him and he saw your surprised yet flustered look

that eye contact made everything fall deaf in your ears and you just heard silence

no song, no cheer, just absolute silence

but you and tendou are practically the same so you thought for the worse that your soulmate has died bc of the silence

dread filled your stomach and you started singing sofia the first in instinct

your mouth moved with the words and you shut your eyes, trying to calm yourself down

his jaw dropped, hearing the familiar voice and song that correlated with your mouth’s movements

‘there you are, little birdie’

semi turned to tendou and saw him with a smile hes never seen before

it was so soft and genuine that he got a little scared

the entire game, you were all depressed bc it continued to be silent in your head

tendou was just teasing you a little bit and he didnt want to think or sing a song bc he wanted it to be a special cliche reunion after he crushes your team

but his famous song ruined it

it blared in your head and it got 2x bass boosted when he sang it out loud, completely disregarding the fact that everyone was listening

‘you!’

you shrieked and pointed to him

he was your soulmate

and he was alive

not dead

everyone, including all players, looked at confusion between you and him but he just waved at you

‘ill talk to you later, little birdie!’

great, he embarrassed you in front of everyone

but you didnt care bc omg he was your soulmate!!

‘omg universe and fate, you actually like me to give me such a handsome soulmate!’

now, youre actually cheering on both teams

one was your home school the other was your soulmate

however,

there could only be one winner

and that winner was karasuno

you noticed the defeated looks of your soulmate and his teammates and you almost bursted into tears

you quickly maneuvered yourself through the people and found the familiar spiky hair standing at the doorway, looking at the gym with a forlorn expression

the others noticed you there, especially ushijima who gave you a nod and a small smile

‘i trust you’ll take care of him’

you nodded shakily, raising a hand in salute

‘y-yes!’

you approached him and his teary eyes almost made you bolt into his arms but you calmed yourself

instead, you didnt say anything

but you did sing

‘come stop your crying, it will be alright. just take my hand, and hold it tight. i will protect you, from all around you. i will be here, dont you cry.’

tendou looked to his side and saw you there, not looking at him but also looking at the same direction he was previously

‘my name is tendou satori’

despite already hearing his voice, you still turned red and you looked at him, warmth and love present in your eyes

‘and i’m l/n y/n’

‘you have a beautiful voice’

‘and you are beautiful’

that ending for shiratorizawa physically and emotionally and mentally broke me

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whumpasaurus101 · 3 years ago

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Five Past Three

Oki ik i said i was on a writing break but uhmmmmm feck that :) here is some Pheonix content BC THE POOR BEBE HAS BEEN NEGLECTED OMG!!! SO here is some backstory shenanigans that are sorta important to know heheh 👀

CW: drug use (not in too much detail but oc is high.) / i cant think of anything else BUT if i missed anything plz plz plzzzz lmk!!!!!

masterlist

Pheonix collapsed to the ground with a grunt. His whole body was tingling, almost numb. He felt as if everyone in the world was watching him. He lifted his head, no one.

The wind blew more, making Pheonix shiver.

He could still feel the pounding of the nightclub’s music in his head. Not the one he worked at, oh no no, he wouldn't get high at the place he worked at.

He scrambled in his pocket with numb fingers, trying his best to take out his phone. He tried to put in his passcode, 1-7-8-5, try again, 1-4-5-6, try again “FUCK!” Pheonix yelled, throwing his phone across the car park, hearing it crack against the concrete.

“Who’s there?” Came a voice. Pheonix curled up more in on himself. “Son, are you alright?” Phoenix's head snapped up to see an old man standing in front of him. His vision was shaking as he tried to focus in on the man. He could hear him talking but he couldn't understand! He sounded so far away, yet, he was just about a meter away.

“Hey -ah! Ya reak, boy! What did you take?!”

“Wh-what time is it?” Pheonix’s shaky voice asked. “It's five past three in the mornin’, lad. Now, are ya gonna answer my question?” Pheonix shook his head. No. To be fully honest, Pheonix didn’t know himself. He shouldn't have been so reckless! How did he even get in the carpark? He didn't remember walking here.

“This is dangerous! Someone coulda just picked you from the streets and- well, God knows what would happen! You're lucky I saw ya, lad.” His phone! That's what he was doing! “C-could you pass me my phone please, it-it's over there.” The man looked at him, confused at first before he saw the phone lying there. He strolled over and picked it up, studying the cracked screen.

The lock screen came on and the man could see some notifications. Ten missed calls from Sammy, a bunch of text messages from Sammy too and then just some regular notifications. “Well, it seems as if someone is worried about you, ya better call them back before they go absolutely mad lookin’ for ya, ay?”

Pheonix just held out his hand for the phone before asking again, “What time is it?” The man huffed, “Lad, you just asked, it's still five past three.” Pheonix’s eyebrows furrowed, “N-no, you told me that ages ago, th-the- I-”

“Shhh, it's alright, relax yourself.” He passed Pheonix’s phone over and pointed at the time, “See?” He asked in a gentle voice. Pheonix nodded as he saw the numbers through tear-filled eyes.

“I-I- yes, I’m sorry-” “Hey, no need. Now, how about you ring your friend there and we can sort out how we can get ya home. How does that sound?” Pheonix nodded as he tried to put in his passcode once more. His hands were shaking violently as his numb fingers attempted to key in the numbers. Please try again.

“Here, how about I’ll put it in for you and you can do the talking, aye?” Pheonix nodded, “The uh, the passcode is 1-4-5-2. The man put in the code and Pheonix’s phone unlocked. The man opened the phone app and pressed the contact ‘Sammy’. It only took one ring until Sammy’s desperate voice was heard, “Pheonix?!? Pheonix are you okay?! God I'm gonna kill you if I haven't already died from a heart attack!" Pheonix chuckled slowly, " ‘m okay Sammy. Well, kinda. Theres a uh,, a man with me.”

“WHAT?! PHEONIX PUT ME ON SPEAKER RIGHT NOW!”

“Ay, it's okay, he’s makin’ it sound a lot worse than it is,” The man chuckled. Pheonix laughed, almost falling from his sitting position. “It's alright, my name is Hudson Wheeler, I’ll share the location where we are now. I was walkin’ back to my car when I saw your friend here, someone must have roofied him.. Unless he took the drugs himself. Although, I haven't gotten much chat from him.”

Sammy’s breathing was heavy on the other line as he tried to decide whether to believe it. “Alright, alright, stay on the call and send me your location right now.” Hudson went into messages and selected the button to share the location, he waited for a moment before asking, “Have you got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. Jesus Christ, Pheonix. Alright, how long can you stay with him for, Hudson?”

“As long as you need. You know, I can bring him anywhere if you need me to?”

“No, no, sorry, but no. I- I’ll collect him but it might take me a little while.”

“That's alright. No worries, I have all the time in the world.” Sammy let out a sigh of relief, “Uhm, thank you. Thanks for helping him and I’m sorry I was salty at the start. He’s just, well we've had some bad experiences when it comes to this stuff in the past.”

“Hey, it's all good! You're a great friend.”

“See you sooooon Ssssssammmmyyyyy,” Pheonix laughed.

“Mhm… see you soon.”

Sammy hung up and Hudson looked at Pheonix, shaking his head and chuckled.

Sammy rushed out to the driveway of their house and quickly hopped into his car, keys, wallet, water, phone. That's everything, they thought. They quickly turned on the engine and reversed out of the driveway. They pulled up a map on their phone and followed the directions that came up on the screen.

They put the volume of the radio on full volume and drove. He knew he was driving over the speed limit but he had to get to his friend. They had to. Their foot pressed down on the excelerator more than intended but they didn't notice.

They didn't notice until police sirens started to blare. “No! SHIT!” They slammed the steering wheel with all his force, making their palms turn red. They thought about just speeding and avoiding the police, but he had enough things that they could get caught for than that.

They growled and pulled over, running a hand through their hair. A policeman came over and tapped on the window. Sammy blew out a huff of air and pulled down the window, “Hey officer.”

The officer shone a flashlight into the car, making Sammy wince and cover their eyes. “HEY! Hands up slowly, no sudden movements.” “I'm s-sorry officer!”

“It's alright, now, do you know why I pulled you over?” The officer’s thick Southern accent spoke. “I'm sorry, I was going way above the speed limit, I just- I wasn't thinking, I just-” “Hey, hey, hey, no need to get wound up now alright?” Sammy nodded. “Alright, and where are you going to?”

Sammy thought for a moment, they couldn't give away too much. Pheonix had taken drugs. The last thing Sammy would want is their friend to get arrested!! “I uhm, I'm just going to pick up my friend.” “Mhmm, alright. Listen, you seem like a good person, although I am quite curious why you're out this late, but listen. Drive slower and focus, got it?” Sammy nodded quickly, “Y-yes officer, thank you so much officer, I promise it won’t happen again.” The police officer chuckled slightly, “It's alright, safe drive.” “You too.”

The officer patted the window and smiled and Sammy drove off. Slow, slow, easy, calm, relax. They looked to the map, fifteen minutes.

Hudson looked over to Pheonix who was now lying on the ground, eyes wide as he looked up at night sky. Tears streamed down his face. “Hey now, why are you crying?” Pheonix licked his dry lips and shrugged. He could see streaks of pink and green in the sky, he guessed Hudson couldn't see them.

Hudson dug into his backpack, “Ah, I knew I had it!” He took out a water bottle, “Here, sit up.” He supported Pheonix’s back and helped him sit up. He brought the water bottle to Pheonix’s lips and gently tipped the water.

Pheonix was fully leaning against Hudson for support. He gulped the water quickly and whined as Hudson took the bottle away. “Hey, I cant have ya gettin sick alright?” Pheonix whined but nodded. He then turned his body with a groan and cuddled into Hudson as he shivered.

Hudson sighed as he looked at Pheonix, “What are ya doin’ to yourself, lad?” He shielded his eyes as bright lights suddenly shone. “Looks like your friend is here. Hey, wake up.” Hudson slowly stood up, carrying Pheonix by the shoulders with him.

Sammy rushed out of their car and dashed over to Pheonix, “Oh my god, Pheonix, you idiot! Here, can you help me get him into the car please?” “Of course.”

The pair guided Pheonix to the backseat and laid him across the back. Sammy closed the door and sighed. Hudson gave him a sympathetic smile. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course, my pleasure. I would tell you ways to help him sober up, but I'm guessing this isn't your first rodeo,” He chuckled slightly.

Sammy huffed, “No, can't say it is. But seriously, thank you. Listen, this is all I got but please take it,” Sammy handed a fifty dollar bill to Hudson. “No, hey, that's not necessary at all!”

“No, no, please take it.”

Hudson sighed and took it, “Thank you.”

“Can I give you a lift back home at all?” Hudson smiled, “Oh that's so kind, my car is actually only five minutes away but thank you.”

“Of course -no of course.”

“Well, you better get that laddo home, hm?” “Yes, yes. Thank you.”

Sammy got back into the driver’s seat and turned on the engine. They looked in the mirror and saw Pheonix asleep. They smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. No, no, get home and then sleep. They widened his eyes and put their hands back on the steering wheel.

The drive home was fine. Sammy didn't play the radio to ensure Pheonix could rest. They kept at the right speed too, they couldn't get pulled over again. They yawned and blinked hard for a few moments.

Once the car pulled into the driveway, Sammy helped Pheonix into their house. Pheonix groaned but Sammy ignored him, “Hey, none of that now. Cmon, let's get you to your room.”

They tucked Pheonix into the guest room’s bed and left a basin on the ground just incase. “Rest up,” they whispered. “G’niiiiiiiiiight,” Pheonix chuckled.

---

taglist: @as-a-matter-of-whump @jordanstrophe @milk-carton-whump @yesthisiswhump @kixngiggles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @happy-whumper @thelazywitchphotographer

#Pheonix #Hudson #Sammy #tw: drugs #two caretakers #writing #my writing #whump writing #(not really whumpy though jkhfjkf)#backstory #also im really sorry if there are typosssssss

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 3 years ago

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Friday Night Crew headcanons

out of everyone on the ship, Joker likes Astro the most bc Astro is the only one he never has any real beef with

Joker's favourite person to team up with as imposter is Etho bc they actually think quite similarly when they're imposter together and more often than not they win

the crew sometimes have sleepovers on the ship. one of these nights, Joker had a nightmare and accidentally woke Mrs Tango, who then sat up with him and talked with him until he felt comfortable enough to go back to sleep

after his goofy round the other night, Etho got a bit worried that he annoyed people so he went back to being serious. until another round when dead Skizz and Joker decided to haunt the imposter who killed them and rope Etho into singing the Three's Company song with them

Etho is an extremely good detective but sometimes he feels guilty when he can't figure it out. one round, Tango is killed after Etho promised to protect him, and Etho feels such crushing pressure to discover the imposters who killed him that he has a panic attack at the meeting table, leading the others to try uselessly to comfort him. the rest of the crew unanimously agree that that is the most terrifying thing they have ever witnessed in this game

Brody is the dad of the group but he doesn't know how to be gentle about it. "Joker i swear to god if you don't go hydrate right now i'm gonna vote you off" "WH-"

Joker accidentally called Mrs Tango "mom" once in front of Tango. but he was crying when he did, so Tango grudgingly decides he can't tease him about it or he'll feel bad

Skizz has learned that fake-crying works on his friends almost every time, even Impulse. if he can be ultra convincing, even if they know he's faking it, he can 8/10 get what he wants

Skizz and Joker had an argument in the lobby right before the game began. when the two of them were left alone in the dropship, Endless walked up to them and killed Joker in front of non-imposter Skizz, who then just walked away with Endless and didn't report Joker's body. Joker sulked for the rest of the night

Tango actually has no idea his "dum" sticker is there. someone put it there and no-one bothered to tell him. both bc they think it's funny and bc they have bets on how long it will stay up. ofc it was Skizz who put it there.

Evil wears the plague doctor mask because he wants to hide his face. he and Etho are close because of this shared trait. everyone forgets how close they are bc of this until they just randomly fist bump with no warning and go "mask bros" simultaneously.

the unlikeliest friendship on the ship is Astro and Joker. they're almost total opposites but somehow they always get along and will often team up to trash talk the others out of nowhere

Endless used to get ignored a lot so he's used to being quiet and not having people talk to him. the only person who knows this is Joker, who's also used to being ignored but deals with it by being louder not quieter

Impulse sometimes sings the Three's Company song when he misses Skizz. like when Skizz dies or kills him, when he's separated from Skizz by death

Skizz carries around a pair of drumsticks with him and will sometimes tap Joker on the head when he annoys him

Tango is often inadvertently extremely loud; he yells when he gets angry, which surprisingly is often. his friends got him a compressor, which comes in the form of a small device that he keeps in his pocket and takes out and angrily holds as he yells at his friends for whatever reason. Skizz and Joker like to wind him up to see how quick they can get him to take the compressor out. it's become a competition between them

Brody and Evil have a weird frenemyship that Tango likes to antagonise out of nowhere. "hey Brody Evil said you suck at the card swipe" "no he didnt" "i didnt but you do" "EXCUSE ME"

when Astro and Endless are done with their tasks as ghosts on the Polus map, they go to the office and read books together

even though they're all pretty much the same age, everyone jokingly refers to Mrs Tango and Tango as "mom and dad", but only rly in the context of when they're arguing, someone will make a "i dont like it when mom and dad fight" joke and it makes the Tangos laugh so much they forget why they're arguing

Etho and Brody are considered two of the best players in the game but every once in a while, when they're imposters together, they will choose a random person and make a competition to kill that person first without getting caught, just to do something a bit different

Mrs T and Lala are good friends, and Mrs T knows how much Astro misses Lala when they're away so she will often ask Lala to write Astro a letter before they go, and when Astro starts to miss Lala, she'll give him the letter

Joker can sense when Endless is frustrated about not being listened to during meetings so he will yell at the others to get them to shut up so Endless can talk

Skizz and Tango are known as "the bad luck duo" bc somehow, they more than anyone else have the worst luck when it comes to killing someone and then having someone else come by right at that moment

Mrs Tango jumped on Etho's joke about Tango being his queen, so now they refer to Etho as "Tango's husband" and call their duo "Tango's spouses". it annoys the hell out of Tango but Mrs T and Etho love it

Etho is genuinely a little scared of Impulse because of how unpredictable he is. Etho knows he can count on Joker to be sus all the time, but Impulse does imposter things when he's crewmate and pulls off tiny brilliant moves when he's imposter, and this completely throws Etho off

#friday night stabby #vaunna’s thoughts

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shdwwlkrsblog · 4 years ago

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Idk if there are any creepypasta fans are here on tumblr but if there are any let me know you still exist bc why not

Anyways a story here

Warnings : blood , murder , death , swearing , mental illness , angst?

Jeff the killer x reader

Meeting an childhood friend

" 5 new victims with a smile carved in their face , police officer humbelbee ( i just needed a name) thinks it was the Jeff the killers work here " the woman in the tv said before the tv switched to a reporters camera who showed and officer and another interviewer " hello I'm live here we're the victims were killed with officer humbelbee who got a message for everyone living in y/t/n (your town name) " she said handing the microphone to the officer " hello and i need everyone to listen to me , this is the 3 time this week that Jeff the killer murdered people and we need to be extra careful because It doesn't seem like he's done . That's why I want everyone living in y/t/n and the towns near it to close all doors lock it as good as you can and block all the windows and stay inside , if you need to get food don't go out early in the morning or at night and never go alone , if you encounter Jeff the killer don't try to fight him and try to run to the next police station . He is too danger- " the black that now colored the tv interrupted him . You got enough you couldn't stand it anymore . Your old childhood friend jeffrey turned into a killing machine , killing all those innocent people . It was to much , it hurted but you tried to ignore it and looked at the clock at the wall showing 16:26 ' shit i wanted to get some food but now it's too late' you cursed yourself for not going earlier and walked into the kitchen checking your fridge but to your bad luck it was empty . ' do i really need to go now ?' you asked yourself feeling fear coming up in you 'what if he attacks me?' then a bit of hope ' what if he still knows who I am ?' but the hope was crushed when you came to the answer that he won't ' he ain't the same , he is crazy , a monster but not jeffrey' you thought a frown forming on your lips as the thought of jeffrey back then

"Hey y/n wanna meet after school ? " A male voice spoke behind you and you turned around to see Jeff standing there "sure jepp when are you free? "( Let's use jepp as the nickname you called him) you asked looking up at him 'how can he be so tall we are only 13?' you thought asking yourself if you were short or he was tall but we're in tripped by him punching you into the shoulder " hey I said I'm free at 1 pm " he laughed " you look like an idiot rn " and now he held his stomach bc of laughing " oh ok 1 pm then " you said , you didn't get what was going on but then you noticed liu coming up behind Jeff " oh I see the 2 love birds have fun " he joked earning a "no stop it" from both of you , you noticed your face heating up . Yep you had a crush on Jeff , a huge one but you didn't want to break your friendship so you keept quiet and brushed it off like it was nothing " hahaha okay well we need to go or we won't get our bus " you said trying to sound normal but liu noticed it and gave you his 'i see a bird in love ' glance but stopped when Jeff yelled a " what the fuck are you waiting for idiots?" And as response he got a " Jeff language you know mother will kill us if we swear " from liu " yeah whatever" Jeff yelled And ran towards you grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the bus station " com'on y/n we need to be faster than him " he yelled and liu and you laughed

(quick scenario from back then bc i wanna try to change my writing style to something good )

(end of scenario )

Years have passed since then , and you do still have a crush on him but not Jeff the killer , that monster . No you love the old Jeff . You shook your head trying to get that thought out of your head and looked at the clock 18: 19 ' i shouldnt spend that much time thinking and better get groceries ' you thought and wanted to slap yourself for wasting that much time but you figured out going now wouldn't waste more time and a self-slap would . You looked out of the window 'its 6pm and it's turning dark? Oh yeah it's winter' you thought as you walked quickly through your house grabbing the keys and some money . When you grabbed everything You looked at the clock again seeing only few minutes passed and you grabbed your selfprotection-knive 'bc i don't want to die ' you thought while stuffing it into your jacket . You made your way outside walking along the street only a few people were outside but the were walking quickly. Noone wanted to be caught by Jeff and get killed . After some minutes off walking to arrived at the shop and quickly got in and grabbed the food you wanted Payed and left the shop . When you left you got the feeling of someone watching you but you ignored it and just walked faster . When you walked pass a abandoned building someone aggressively trapped your arm and pulled you into it . The figure pressed you against a wall you wanted to move but stopped when you felt something cold and sharp at your throat and the figure started laughing in a deep and crazy voice . When you got a closer look you recognized the person , it was Jeff . But you got no time for that because he pressed the blade a bit stronger at your throat "jepp stop please" you begged and the figure immediately let you go . When he stuffed his knife away he asked "y/n!?" "Wait you still know who I am?" You asked surprised 'he remembers me does that mean he's still the old Jeff?' you thought happyness filling you "ofc how should I forget you ? Y/n i am so sorry for what happened but will you still be my friend?" He asked you hardly saw it but did he cry? But you tried to ignore everything that happened , all the people he killed . You loved him , you wanted to be by his side . You wanted to say yes but the sound of police sirens interrupted you . Jeff quickly picked you up and ran outside to the nearest forest ' since when did he become so strong?' you asked yourself while clinging at him and praying that he won't drop you . Jeff stopped when you both were far enough and set you down . "Are you ok?" He asked his voice filled with worry he was still the old Jeff for you , and you accepted him even if he was a murder . " Yeah and we are still friends jeff i don't care if you are a murderer i still love yo-" you stopped when you realized what you said and blushed , Jeff didn't say anything for a while " I'm okay if you don't love me just don- " your apologizing was interrupted by Jeff lips crashing into yours for a short time " i love you too y/n" he said and you guys kissed again

I'm not such a big fan of kissing but wanted to make a good and happy ending

Tell me if you liked it or not , the next few days (and if this story get some likes ._.) I'm going to try to be active and make more story's

Ask box open

#jeff the killer #jeffrey woods #liu #woods #creepypasta #cp #creepypasta x reader #tumblr show this to creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fandom #jeff x reader #jeff the killer x reader #long story ?#cp x reader #jeffrey woods x reader #make creepypasta great again

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goldafterglow · 4 years ago

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my love is a dagger

Summary: Jack Daniels is hopelessly gone for you, and you’re starting to think it’s a two way street. Maybe.

Request: “May I please ask for Basorexia and Whiskey please? 🥺” - @scribbledghost (ma’am I’m SO sorry this took me so long and then after the long wait you got whatever this is); taken from this post

basorexia: the overwhelming desire to kiss

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x reader

Word Count: 4.8k+

Warnings: suicidal themes (just a little and not really but there’s definitely a line), sexual harassment, anGST!!, PINING omg SO much pining like folks get ready to y*arn, a little bit of fluff bc Jack is a sweet talking southerner and I couldn’t help it, more angst I rly hope you cry, there’s a cute little lesbian couple in one line so don’t read if ur homophobic! but that goes for all of my work :)))

Author’s Note: Thank the GODS for @catfishingmorales for being my first ever beta reader!!! maybe this one will make any fucking sense at all!!! also a special shoutout to my wife @pascalplease bc she stayed up all night vomiting headcanons with me about this and I didn’t even get to all of them.

Gif Cred: the lovely @coredrive

Masterlist | Taglist Modifications

“Two single-bed rooms,” he says. No; he manages.

Jack has to pry the words out of his esophagus, the passageway so clogged with sleep that he thinks that if he clears his throat he might be able to clear it.

It doesn’t work.

He tends to add a little brightness and smile to his voice when he talks, always eager to please even strangers. He embellishes his sentences with pleasantries and a chipper shimmer that makes even the most overworked bartender smile and the most destitute rancher crack a grin because he has this uncanny ability to make everyone feel special. But right now, at eleven pm on a Saturday evening after what might’ve been the worst, most emotionally grueling mission Jack has ever completed, he is not pleasant. His words are simply a tool for him to get a message out, his voice choked and flat.

“I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir, but it looks like we only have one king-size room available,” the lady informs. She is looking intently at the screen, still typing and clicking like the words might miraculously change right before her eyes.

The powerful Agent Whiskey’s heart falls into his stomach.

He can’t tell if this is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to him. Is this finally the excuse he needs to sweep you off your feet, like the catalyst giving him the strength to overcome his intense paranoia? Or is this the last straw, the final stone before you step off the staircase of his heart and back out onto the run-down open streets without him? Panic floods his chest and he is so paralyzed that he doesn’t even know what to tell her; for once, Jack Daniels is speechless.

Thank god he doesn’t turn around; he’d’ve seen your wide frantic eyes and would’ve known immediately what you’re thinking.

“Oh, it looks like a vacancy just opened,” the hostess chirps, a hint of relief floating on her words. You and Jack turn your heads to your left, where a young couple is saying their “thank you”s as they rack up the handles of their suitcases, hand-in-hand. One girl leans over to kiss the other on the temple with a smile; they both seem so secure. You turn your head back to the hostess; the sight of two people being content was disturbing to you and frankly a little offensive. “Unfortunately they’re on separate floors. Is that-”

“We’ll take them,” Jack gruffs. He wants to sleep, wants to die, wants to be in any existence where your soft eyes aren’t glued to the back of his head because he can feel it and he thinks you might burn holes into his skull just to find that he’s hollow inside.

Empty.

The transaction is quick and a little forced. She hands you both your respective key cards wordlessly, and if your eyes had lingered on her just a little longer you would’ve caught her face falling into it’s default relaxed state of misery. Jack walks with you to the elevator in silence, but he’s still close. He’s always close to you. Often you’ll turn your head in an empty room and anticipate him being there just to be sorely disappointed, though you aren’t sure what you’re always so disappointed for. His spirit haunts your thoughts, floats around your body and does laps around your brain because he is always there when you need him, so much so that you expect him to be there when you don’t need him. You want him to always be there. To always be with you.

Strange thoughts to have so late at night.

Jack sets his bag down beside you, stepping forward to press the button for you; it’s such a small gesture, something that he probably didn’t even think to do since hospitality runs in his bones, and yet you noticed it.

Strange.

The door opens, and he wordlessly puts a hand on your back, guiding you towards the elevator in front of him. Letting you on first. You can’t help but smile a little at him; you can tell he’s so tired and yet he still finds it somewhere in his heart to make you feel so important.

“You know I don’t need that from you,” you tease lightly, turning to look at him as the doors drag shut. The elevator shudders around you, indicating that it’s ready to start it’s journey to the fifth floor.

Jack grins at you; it’s not something he’s doing with his voluntary muscles, something that he thinks is coming off muted because he just doesn’t have the energy. It’s something he doesn’t even think about doing, a visceral reaction to hearing your sweet voice like aloe vera on his scorched throat.

“Well then, darlin’, take it anyways just to indulge your favorite cowboy,” he almost begs, lip pouted and eyebrows raised like he’s a child asking for candy except he’s an addict crying for just one more dose before the night ends because the nights he goes home without the memory of your eyes, your smile, your scent in his system are the nights he can’t sleep through.

You giggle softly, nudging his side gently because you want to crush him in your embrace and lift him onto the barbs of feathers into the moonlight all at the same time. To Jack, it feels like you’ve just kneed him in the chest, hogging all his air and wrapping his head in plastic so he can’t breathe, not that he minds. He’d let you tear at the delicate skin of the inside of his wrists, bite into the gentle flesh of his cheeks until he’s on his knees, bleeding at the seams. He’d let you destroy him if you wanted to.

He sighs a little, so dead, as a flush of air enters the vacuum of the elevator; you’ve arrived. But he doesn’t want to leave yet, wants to wring every last drop of your attention out of your pliable bones, so he follows you out and walks you to your room.

“I don’t need this either,” you say, a yawn stretching and blurring the edges of your words.

“I know,” Jack concedes, rolling his eyes in a way that is so adoring that he might as well have kissed you full on the mouth.

Not that you wanted him to.

“I know you don’t need a lick of help from me, sugar. Maybe I just like giving.” He grins down at you again, his side brushing against yours as you place slow, careful steps down the carpeted floor.

Yeah, he likes giving.

He gives you his leftover coffee when he “doesn’t want it” - it’s a tall cup of his favorite brew. He definitely still wants it. He gives you his blazer when you call his desk landline just to tell him your office is cold because you know he’ll give it to you. What you don’t know is that it’s because he’s completely and utterly whipped for you - he’d strip naked in a snowstorm to keep you warm, hold you in an icehouse as the bite of the frost burrows into the cracks of his dried skin, because he doesn’t need clothes when you’re in his arms. That’s about as warm as he’s ever been.

He gives you his time of day - almost all of it. He’s the first person you see when you step into work, the last face you see when you’re ready to retire. He walks you to your office every morning - he had to beg Champ to switch offices with him so that he could be adjacent to you, but every ounce of dignity lost was paid back to him with royalties in the precious extra seconds he gets to spend rubbing his shoulder against yours. He saunters into your office unannounced daily at 12:35 pm sharp to eat lunch with you, flopping onto your couch with the audacity of a man wet with wealth and simultaneously listening to you rave about your day with the patience of a therapist. Your time is a sacred commodity to him, and he makes sure that he’s earned it.

He gives you his whole soul. Sometimes he wonders if you’ll one day open your purse and find his glass heart sitting there, beating hard and loud and only for you. He wonders if you’d pick it up and smash it against a wall. He wouldn’t mind it at all.

The silence hangs in the air, dancing on your breaths as you seem to be inhaling each other, soaking in each other. It’s strange, the moments you share alone with Jack. There are the ones you share late at night, croaking at each other over the phone about how shitty that one show ended or how beautiful blue things are. Blue like his suffocated lungs, like the ocean of tears that drown him when he looks at you, like the finger you’ve got him wrapped around real tight.

But then there’s the moments when you’re in a room full of people. The briefing room sitting at a table spanning the length of the room that’s completely full of people, a club chock full of sweat and neon energy, the lobby of the lavish estate of a target where the bourgeoisie can swarm and stalk each other. All he has to do is toss you a roll of the eyes, a grin, a subtle brush of his hand against yours, and you are instantly thrown into the web of his affection as you get lost and locked in the atmosphere of his presence. Like, even in a room full of people, he’s the only one around. You’re not breathing in oxygen but the hickory fumes of his skin, the only sound getting registered being his dark honey voice. You’re not quite sure how he does that, distorting reality so heavily that you feel like you’ve traversed to an alternate dimension every time he touches you, pays any mind to you. Every single time.

“This you?” Jack asks, his words like a rubber band to your pulse as you’re snapped out of your train of thought. You look up at the room number - room 513 - and then down at your keycard. It reads the same. There’s a dull ache of disappointment that erupts through your chest, beige and static like the chipped paint on the walls.

“Yeah,” you mutter, turning to face him with your back to the door. He smiles at you softly, gentle like his fragile soul that you always manage to make hurt so bad without doing a single thing, and he opens his arms to you. Nothing out of the ordinary; you’ve grown accustomed to his goodbye hugs. “You’re so needy,” you giggle, stepping forward to bury your face in his pillowy chest and letting yourself sink into the quicksand of his warmth. It’s so easy to get caught up in him like a butterfly to a flower, and yet it’s so hard to pull away. He’s always been difficult to separate from; every time it’s like you’re sewing a microfractal of your esse into the velvet of him. Not big enough for you to notice, but still missing, and it adds up every time until there’s a big gaping hole in your chest that Jack holds claim to and the only way you feel right is when he’s with you.

I know, he wants to say to you. I know I’m needy. I know that you’re the only one, the only person, the only fucking thing that I’ve ever wanted this bad. I know I steal your time and your space and your thoughts but I’m a greedy man. Please forgive me. But he doesn’t say that; he could never say that to you. So instead he buries his face into the top of your head, trying to get a big sleepy lungful of you before he parts with you for the night, and says “Can you blame me, baby?”

You look up at him, eyes bleary and red but still eager to be so close to him. “Always such a tease.” He smiles wide at you, like he’s looking at a whimsical sprite so colorful and magnificent, but it’s just you. What does he see when he looks at you?

“G’night, pretty girl,” he coos, arms still wrapped around you and eyes big and doe-y. Please don’t leave yet, my perfect thing. Except that’s the part that stings him the most; you’re not his. He doesn’t get to say that sacred “my.”

“Good night, Jack Daniels,” you whisper, words fanning on his cheeks like waves of heat from a bonfire. But you don’t move, and neither does he. Not yet. Please.

He’s looking down at you with a certain reverence, like you were sculpted by the angels and placed right here in front of him with intimate precision. And then, without a breath to spare, he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead so light that you wonder if it even happened or if someone has just thrown a marshmallow at your face. A friendly kiss from a friend that you’re friends with.

It feels like the seams of your limbs are being ripped out as you slowly separate from him, flashing him a soft smile as you take your duffel bag and unlock the door in front of you. You step into your hotel room, the air conditioning immediately sticking to your damp skin. As you close the door you catch him still standing there, looking at you like you’re something so precious.

Platonically, of course.

You sigh as you look around the room, suddenly freezing. The tiny dress you’re wearing doesn’t add much insulation and the big diamond necklaces and chandelier earrings and silver cuffs adorning your body like ornaments become ice on your skin. Kicking your shoes off and into a forgotten pit of the room, you step into the bathroom. Flicking the light on, you stare straight at the bulbs, letting the light sear your pupils just so that you can focus on something other than Jack fucking Daniels. Your jewelry is the first to go, becoming a delicate display on the bathroom counter. Something so pretty, but they’ve left angry dents in your skin that are starting to inflame and you figured it was too good to be benign. Nothing so beautiful, nothing that makes you feel so beautiful, could do so without hurting the paper-thin barriers of your heart. You’d have to be a fool to not know that.

You open up your duffel bag, fishing around impatiently until you find your makeup remover and cotton pads. As you erase the paint on your skin, removing the rough mission from the memory of your face, you start beginning to look less disheveled and more exhausted. Now you can really see the dark circles under your eyes, the discomfort of Rolex’s touching the small of your back and Armani cologne grabbing at your hips while you let it happen. Your body had become free real estate and in just hours you had broken down to feeling like you were stained, a dirtier version of yourself that couldn’t ever be cleaned.

You hadn’t felt so filthy when you were in Jack’s arms.

Eager to try and scrape the mission from your lungs, you peel the tight fabric off your body, letting out a breath of something far redder than relief as it falls to a pool around your ankles. You turn around to reach for the shower handle and grip it hard, letting the cold steel fill your palm as you twist it mid-way. While you wait for the steam to seep into your pores you reach for a bar of packaged soap on the bathroom counter, sizing up the créme box. It’s about a centimeter thick, easily filling your palm, and you frown a little at realizing that most of it will be thrown away, unused. Such a waste.

Turning your attention to the water, you run your hand under the water pouring out of the shower nozzle. It’s warm enough. But you don’t want it to be enough. You want it to melt your skin, to burn through your used body and shed your cells to unleash the layers beneath, the layers that Jack had touched, because thinking that your body has been safe inside his embrace feels better than thinking that you put your head in the jaws of the alligators and hoped they wouldn’t snap.

Once the water is burning, sure to inflame your skin, you step in and close the shower curtain before beginning to let the soap glide along your arms. Except it’s not enough. You’re not clean enough. So you run the bar over yourself again and again, wearing it down as your skin turns hot to the touch until you’re using the tips of your fingers to salvage the last bits of product onto your chest. Shit. You don’t even realize that the bar is all used up until you feel the sensation of your fingers rubbing against your now irritated skin and yet you still feel soiled. So you elect to give up on your sorry attempt at washing away the strange eerie touches and predatory looks and turn off the water, drying yourself off.

The solitude in the air stings.

By the time you’re laying in your bed and looking up at the plain off-white ceiling so that you don’t have to look at the old collections of dirt in the crevices of the wall and carpeted floor, you haven’t thought about Jack for the past 30 minutes. Not since you were washing yourself and the ghost of his fingers scraped your scalp, making you long for the feeling of his chest pressed to your back and the sound of his voice floating into the vinyl of the curtain liner while his hands danced in your hair -

Not since then.

But Jack Daniels is most certainly thinking about you, and he’s far too deep to bother pretending that he isn’t anymore.

He stands outside your door for just a little while longer after you close it, staring at the fool’s gold embellishment on the front as he basks in the faint warmth of your spirit that lingers in the space of the hall and inside of his bones. He’s not sure how he got so lucky so as to be able to touch you without abandon, kiss your forehead out of greed and hold you in his arms because he really is so needy. He replays the scent of your dainty floral perfume and rewinds the heat of your forehead under his used, chapped lips, trying to commit you to memory as if he hadn’t done this a million time already, as if he hasn’t tried to burn a million of your hugs into the plush cotton of his skin like a brand. Your fading ghost consumes his mind, and by the time it’s whispering farewell to him, he’s already at the bank of elevators waiting patiently for the doors to open for him. Jack does a lot of that; waiting.

The weight of his duffel bag starts to grow and he can’t tell if his tired left arm is getting weaker or if the bag is getting heavier, but he can tell that his nerves are aching because he already misses you.

He’s always missing you.

The trip to his room is quiet, lonely, and as the elevator doors close for him to make his way to the 6th floor he wonders if this is how it’ll always be. Having you so close, seeing you right in front of him, and yet never truly being with you the way he wants to be. Never belonging to anybody, just a wisp of air passing through your life without holding any true substance or having any real meaning to you; but what a privilege to be one of your wisps. To have been in your lungs and have seen what he imagines are wide open plains, vibrant with wildflowers and gentle beasts. He wishes he could stay.

The elevator door dings.

This time he is caught off guard and he inhales like a shudder, eyes darting around the cold yet damp walkway to see if anyone has caught him thinking, caught him yearning.

Hallucinating.

Deluded.

He steps inside of the compartment with his stupid heavy duffel bag, immediately letting it fall to the elevator floor. His eyes find the plastic, cloudy buttons making up the keypad of the elevator. His left arm lifts to press the “6” button but he immediately regrets it, feeling a searing agony shoot through his shoulder. He mutters a little “fuck” to himself like it’ll help balm the pain, and of course it doesn’t, but Jack is a stubborn man and the buttons are to his left, so he shakes his arm out the way you shake out your boots before stepping inside mama’s house and tries again. But his dry, chapped fingers struggle to reach for the buttons, shaking in his own seismic wake. It takes him a few seconds to steady himself, taking temporary control over his body so he can actually touch the button; the plastic is cracked, a small piece having fallen off to be lost, likely thrown away. A discarded fracture in the shell leaving the inner label forever open and exposed, never to be whole again.

The elevator door shuts.

Jack lets out a low sigh, leaving his arms to fall to his sides as he leans against one of the walls. The back wall of the elevator is reflective, muddled and stained but clear enough that Jack can see what has become of him. His stetson is barely on his head anymore, his tie crooked and his collar untucked. He almost feels like a suit monkey, walking around playing dress up with the caveat of poisoning a man’s fresh champagne. But you told him he looked so handsome all gussied up like a proper gentleman worthy of taking a dime like yourself out. So he leaves it at almost.

He does a lot of that too.

The elevator hiccups, and as expected the doors open, inviting him to leave. He looks down at his duffel bag and he can already feel the weight of it on his weeping muscles, but he’s so close to his room and he can’t give up now that’s he’s made it so far, so he uses the momentum of his swinging right arm to sweep the bag up off the floor and drags himself out of the elevator. Not the best thing he’s ever done, but certainly one of his proudest moments.

The sixth floor is less damp, less like a moldy underwater cave and more like he’s at the top of a breezy mountain where the strands of air are like spurs to his cold, tight skin. Crisp. It is different, and yet he feels the same. Like his joyful warmth has drained out of his system, flushed out of his body, and on the inside he is the 5th floor of a shitty decrepit hotel in the middle of fuck all Kentucky.

He makes quick work of finding his room, the inertia from getting off the elevator being the driving force that gets him down the two hallways and standing before room 645. He pulls out the plastic keycard, adorned with scratches on its surface and stains on its edges, and shoves it into the card reader. With a subtle flash of green and a gentle click, the door gives way for Jack to practically fall inside. He flings the bag as far across the room as his arm will let him, letting gravity control his movements as he is drawn to the white mattress in the center of the room. He releases a groan a little louder than should be appropriate this late at night - he checks the alarm clock on the bedside table to confirm that it’s 11:08. He hasn’t been apart from you for longer than what, 4 minutes? No, he did stand outside your door for a little bit. He decides it’s been 5 minutes.

Oddly enough, the extra sixty seconds don’t make him feel any less fucked.

Now that he’s finally still, his body begins to focus on how sore his legs are as any pain grows from the ends of his limbs and seeps into his chest. He can feel the weight of the night press down heavy on his diaphragm, suffocating him in a way that travels to his eyes and sprays sand like mist onto the walls of his throat. He selfishly lets himself lay there for a second, thinking about that weight being you pressed up against him, face buried in his chest or his neck or in his own face. It’s sacrilegious the way Jack thinks about your touch, the flutter of your lashes like majestic butterfly wings against his cheek, so enticing. So pretty.

His shower is fast despite the way his muscles screech at him to let them rest, begging him to just fucking sit down. When he leans down, back made of creaky burnt red iron, to reach for his sleep clothes, he does a double take; there’s not much in the bag at all. A bunch of small, disguised weapons, communications devices, a pair of grey sweats, a white t-shirt. Nothing oppressively hefty to pull on his tendons; at least, not in a way that could practically drag his shoulder out of its socket. Then suddenly he remembers; he had been holding your bag until you’d both reached the lobby desk. It was a long walk from where you’d been instructed to dump the care and the hotel, so after watching you squirm a little in the freezing air, he offered to take your bag off your back. He’d walked with a bag in each arm for maybe a minute before he realized that his greedy fingers missed being wrapped around your side, missed your melted essence seeping into his stomach, so he’d held both bags in the one left hand for the rest of the thirty minute walk. He hadn’t even noticed how bad he was hurting; perhaps you were too distracting, smile too alluring as your words painted his eyes in lilac and blinded him from his own discomfort.

For being the one person Jack wanted, you sure did hurt him a lot.

Once he is dressed, he lets his sore body absorb into the linen sheets as his muscles finally find some form of permanent relief in the salve of stillness. But this is a dangerous state to be in; when Jack isn’t talking someone else’s ear off, he thinks. He fantasizes, ponders, mulls and muses himself into a state that is suspended between consciousness and sleep.

He thinks about your lips.

You’ve never been too shy to mouth him off, poking and prodding at him and his eccentric cowboy aesthetic. Seeing you walk in every morning and beeline it straight to greet him with a casual fifteen-second hug sends daggers flying into his heart every time, a pain that he’s learned to brace himself for and yet can never seem to be able to handle. And when he looks down at you, adoring eyes and all, he can never help but glance at your lips. It’s always short, a self-indulgent guilty pleasure that he could never admit to, and he thinks about the way they feel against his collarbone when you hold him tight. He thinks about the way they might feel on his own lips.

Sinful.

And then he is thinking about that wretched mission, flashes of luxury clothes and manicured hands trying to feel you up right in front of his eyes. The way you fake smiled at men with money and wrinkles as they leaned into your ear, trying to whisper enticing tales of exorbitant trips to islands that are garishly tropical and dresses so exclusive and designer that no one in the world would own a duplicate. Watching in utter silence because no matter agonizing his need for you is, you’ll never be his.

Suddenly that ache in his body has traveled to his face. It’s so painful to think about you, and yet he takes the jagged edges of his love for you and drags them through his wrists because he’d rather fucking bleed than ever forget you.

Outside his window he hears the clouds crash into each other as an icy downpour beats the pavement. And like a curse, at the expense of his own self-destruction, the image of you in his arms in front of room 513 slices through his brain. Your face right under his mouth, forehead right up against him, your lips right fucking there. And then the feeling of you pulling away. Of you leaving him to rot with the flies, because he’s never going to be strong enough to tell you how bad he needs you, let you tear his heart into a million pieces for good.

From somewhere in his room the rain begins to fall on his face.

people who asked to be tagged: @gustavos @catfishingmorales @keeper0fthestars @1zashreena1 @blancatobarxoxo @honeyedspace @chaotic-noceur @opheliaelysia @adikaofmandalore @din-damn-djarin @ergotautology

people who most certainly did not ask to be tagged sir: @agentpike @damndamer0n @dindjarindiaries @moonglowcarrillo @girlwithanewplan @mrpascals @bunnykjm @maxlordd @buckstaposition @cryptkeepersoul

This is new so I’m putting it down here too, but I made a little form for those of you that want to be added/removed from my taglist (pls take it my tags are very disorganized rn).

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey angst #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels angst #angst #iris writes #iris original #this was supposed to be a cute fic about wanting to kiss ur crush #and now it is #this #wow the mistakes i make

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years ago

Text

I Pity the Grave That Tries to Keep Me From You

Bull Randleman x Reader One-shot

Summary: it’s just fluffy angst about Bull coming back from Market Garden bc I’m a soft squishy sad little tall person who is dealing with some major feels

Warnings: shitty writing (mostly cuz I don’t feel like editing WHOOPSIE), angst, fluff, rushed ending, bleh, idk man it is what it is....

Ya’ll know I listened to Hozier’s Work Song for part of this, I didn’t even try to be subtle about it.

You don’t react when Hoobler tells you about Bull.

Martin can’t look at you, but you hug him just the same.

I’m sorry he’d blurted after he returned your embrace, voice breaking painfully. I’m so fucking sorry.

But you’d just shook your head from side to side and given him the closest thing to a reassuring smile you could muster.

Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here.

You weren’t sure how many times you’d said those three sentences since D-Day, but it was the only thing you could think of to say to your broken friends telling you through tearful apologies the names of the soldiers you all had loved and lost. As if it was their fault... as if they’d failed in keeping them safe for you.

Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here.

Martin had let out one quiet sob against your neck before stepping back and turning and leaving. Everyone let him go.

You understood- everyone grieved differently. Your grief had to wait a bit longer- you still had things to do.

No one made to stop you when you excused yourself, Webster having the presence of mind to give you a nod when you mumbled something about checking in with Nixon.

You and Bull had always known the risk of one or both of you dying- hell, you’d even discussed the likelihood of one of you dying in front of the other. You’d mentally prepared yourself as much as you could for that inevitability.

Missing, though? Missing wasn’t sitting well with you.

Becoming an intelligence officer hadn’t been a career path you’d stumbled across by mistake- you liked information, found comfort in details and strategy.

You hated being blindsided, and since you’d been small you’d gone to great lengths to ensure you never entered a situation without being fully aware of any and all potential outcomes that could occur.

Surprises aren’t always good, my darling. Remember that.

Your mother’s words had echoed in your head the first time you’d met Bull, when he’d caught you off guard by introducing himself to you in the same manner he had introduced himself to all of the other men in Easy- with solid eye contact, a firm handshake, and a gentle drawl of “Randleman, nice to meet you.”

The idea that you wouldn’t hear his voice again, in either friendly introduction or intimate devotion, made you feel achingly hollow.

“If you think something as silly as a grave can keep me from coming home to you, you got another thing coming, Little Lady”.

“That sounds like you’re saying you’re going to haunt me, Den—”

“You should be so lucky….plus, I’d make it fun, so don’t even worry about it.”

You start to walk in earnest towards the officer’s area now, biting the insides of your cheeks in an effort not to cry.

You had to keep going.

You’d promised him you would, just as you’d made him promise in kind.

When you finally found Nixon, you instantly frowned at the bruise blossoming on his forehead.

“What happened to you?” you ask, ignoring the man’s glare and walking over to get a closer look. “Looks like you tangoed with Joe Toye’s brass knuckles and lost.”

“Got shot in the helmet.” Nix grumbles at the same time Richard perks up and squints at you while asking “Toye’s got brass knuckles?”.

You wince, both in response to Nix’s injury and your accidental snitching on Joe. “Whoops.”

Lewis’s eyes catch yours and his brow softens.

You instantly know what he’s about to bring up, and shake your head preemptively.

“Lew,” you begin with a heavy sigh, only to be shushed like a child before he spoke over you.

“They don’t know anything for sure yet.” he insisted, and you knew that he knew you saw through his bullshit.

He sometimes tried to be less pessimistic when he knew you were already way ahead of him in that department, but the two of you knew each other well enough by now for you to see it for what it was- him trying to make you feel better, coddling you to make you feel better.

Lying to make you feel better.

Information is truth, everything else is probably a lie.

Your mother was a bitter cynic, but you’d also never once known her to have her heart broken.

Maybe she’d been on to something.

“Yeah,” you’d offered, quickly brushing past him to look at the map on the table. “Maybe. Anyway, when exactly did Market Garden start going to shit? Do you think we were undermanned? Were our maps wrong? Did they have unexpected weaponry….?”

Distract the sad voice in your head offered as you threw yourself into work, using the churning pain in your belly to fuel your motivation to reclaim the town.

No one gets to hurt you and get away with it. No one gets to take Bull from you and remain unpunished.

You decided then and there that you were going to make the SS bleed for what they’d done, and you knew that if Bull were there he’d tell you to rein it in.

Got murder in your eyes, darling. What’s got you so cross?

But Bull wasn’t here. And you? You had to get over it.

It’s what he would want.

You had barely slept that night, throwing yourself into rereading all of the intelligence reports until Dick finally ordered you out of the CP tent.

At first you’d fought him on it, still too afraid of being let alone with your own thoughts. But he’d been firm, literally snatching the paperwork from your trembling hands and hovering over you until you relented.

“I don’t want to see you until morning, is that understood?”

With more patience than you deserved he’d held your coat up and helped you slip into it, making a point to pull your knit hat down over your ears before turning you in the direction of where all the soldiers were sleeping.

Even though Bull had promised to be the one to haunt you, it was you who felt like the ghost.

But, like the obedient soldier you were, you walked to the spot where you and Bull had set up camp with Perconte and Luz. Neither man happened to be there at that moment, which was a small blessing because when you saw Bull’s unattended duffel bag in the same spot he’d left it that morning you’d been unable to stop the sob that slipped past your lips.

Like a child, you’d curled around his rucksack and held it close, your fingers tracing over the airborne patches that denoted it as his.

Had it truly been this morning that you’d woken up in his embrace, groaning in sleepy protest when he refused to let you out of his arms?

“Jus’ a bit longer,” he’d mumbled, bringing a leg up and over your hip to pin you beside him. “Let the boys start fightin’ without us, we’ll catch up later…”

You wish that had been possible. You wished it could have been that simple.

Tears had leaked out of your eyes as you squeezed them shut and the next time you opened them it was morning. At some point in the night either George or Frank had tossed a wool blanket over you.

For a few glorious moments, you had thought Bull’s furnace-like chest had been what was keeping you warm. The blanket was a kindness, but an unintentionally cruel one.

After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you’d gotten yourself ready and packed up to head out.

Bull’s duffle bag seemed to be filled with bricks as you hefted it over your shoulder with your own, and with each stride you took it only became heavier. You knew the protocol- take the deceased’s belongings to CP for redistribution and personal effects collection.

It felt like defeat, as if you were giving up on him.

Defeat and reality were seeming to become one and the same, these days.

Your throat was so tight by the time you made it to CP you were barely able to explain what you were doing to Lewis, your arm trembling as you held out the pack to him.

The moment Nix had taken it from your hands, tears began to spill from your eyes and for once you did nothing to stop them.

Nixon had been about to say something to you when Perconte rushed in breathlessly with a call of your name, almost forgetting to salute Lewis when he saw him.

“Oh! Sir. Uh, Y/N- there’s, um, something you should see—”

You glared at him, trying and failing to hide the fact that you’d been crying from your friend.

“I’m in the middle of something, Perco. Can it wait?”

In the distance you could hear the sound of truck engines, and a new anxiety began to blossom in your chest at the idea of leaving Bull behind.

“But, Y/N…” he protested, clearly tongue-tied and overexcited.

“Oh my God, what?!”

“It’s Bull!”

Your blood froze in your veins, sucking in a breath that felt too big for your body.

You could feel your heartbeat behind your eyes as your lungs screamed for more air, but your body was refusing to blink or breathe or move…..

“That’s….no. W-what’re you—?”

The sight of a truck driving toward a group of Easy and Dog soldiers came to a halt, and you swore you say a familiar glimmer of sandy curls standing at least a foot above the group.

No. There’s no fucking way….

With wide eyes you turn back to Lewis, seeing an equally confused look on his face.

You barely wait for his nod of dismissal before looking to Frank again.

“C’mon, I’ll—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, sprinting away from them with a single-minded focus on reaching the horribly familiar silhouette of the man you[d begun to mourn.

Bull Bull Bull BULL DENVER BULL!?!?

With no care for decorum or professionalism, you shove people aside and rush through the throng until you violently skid to a halt before Johnny and Hoob.

And Dever fucking Randleman.

A silent sob twists your face, vision doubling as more tears well in your eyes.

It was him. It was him.

When your eyes find his, you force yourself to take a breath.

He’s dirty and scraped and a little bloody but he’s alive and he’s here and—

You throw yourself at him, arms latching around his neck and legs locking around his hips as he catches you easily in his arms.

“Oh my God,” you whisper shakily, shaking like a leaf and clutching at him as if he were the last lifeboat in a storming sea. “Oh my GOD, Den—!”

Bull’s got one arm across your backside and the other is pressing your torso to his as if he means to fuse the two of you together, his heartbeat loud and strong and powerful against your chest as he twists his cold face into your neck and just breathes you in.

You know that Martin is trying to talk to you, that someone else is telling you to take it easy but you can barely hear them through the roaring sound of life returning to your body.

When he sighs your name you swear that you’ve never heard a sound so sweet.

As you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, you open your eyes and blink your tears away.

Of course, once you clear your eyes, you see the mess of blood staining his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, untangling yourself from him in an instant and trying to get out of his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt, you idiot?!”

Bull allows you to unwrap your legs from his waist but refuses to let you go, the arm that had been under your bottom coming up to hold the back of your head lovingly.

A pained yet playful grin breaks across his lips as he eyes you. “Oh, am I?”

You smile stupidly, sniffling at his ridiculous attempt at nonchalance.

Using his hold on the back of your neck he ducks down and presses a long, meaningful kiss to your lips. You sigh into it, and just as you cup his face in your hands someone clears their throat and you’re reminded that the two of you have an audience.

When you break apart he makes sure to wrap his good arm around your shoulders, and you wince when you catch the looks of surprise being sent your way by the replacements.

Whoops, that was certainly unprofessional….

Bill Guarnere barks a laugh as you shift uncomfortably, slinging his own bag back over his shoulder.

“Shit, if that’s the hello you give to someone who’s been MIA- I’m definitely getting lost more often!”

Martin rolls his eyes, and enough people laugh that some of the tension is broken.

You turn back to Bull and try to get him to let him show you his shoulder. But Bull has never been an easy man to physically move, especially when moving is something he doesn’t want to do.

This time is no exception.

“Let me see it,” you huff, only to have him smirk and shake his head. “Denver, I could’ve made it worse, I need to make sure—”

“Nah,” he says with a shrug he immediately regrets doing. “How about you kiss it better after Roe gets a look at it, hmm?”

As you open your mouth to reply there is a cry from above that it’s time to get moving, the reminder that there are more pressing matters to attend to shaking you from your anxious worrying.

Because it’s Bull, he hollers for his men to get on the truck as if he had been with them the whole time.

“I need to go get your stuff, our stuff from CP….”

Bull shakes his head before you’ve finished talking.

“Perco’s got it,” he says with a nod in the man’s direction. “Don’tcha buddy.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bull pulls you along with him towards the trucks, refusing to let you leave his side despite your insistence that Roe needed to take care of him.

Getting into the truck, you help unbutton his shirt so Doc can start cleaning the ragged wound on his shoulder.

Bull brings your knuckles to his lips as the truck begins to move, eyes never leaving your face as he answers Gene’s rapid-fire questions about what had happened in the time Bull had been separated from the group.

“...you lost some blood, how’d you manage not to pass out?”

With a wink in your direction Bull chuckles.

“Considered it, Doc. But then I remembered my missus here was waitn’ and thought better of it.”

You shake your head admonishingly at his explanation.

“You’re really something else, you know that Bull?”

In a move that surprised both you and the Doc, Bull used his grip on your hand to pull you so you were straddling his lap.

“Course I do, Little Lady. I’m yours.”

Well, goddamn.

“Damn right, now shut up and stop flirting.”

The smile he gave you only widened at the command.

“We’ll see, darlin’. We’ll see.”

~ ~ ~ (is it trash? Yes. But is it garbage? Also yes. Love you all and thanks for reading the feels)

taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #bull randleman x reader #denver randleman x reader #bull randleman imagines

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aerynwrites · 5 years ago

Text

A Twist of Fate

Javier Peña x Reader Soulmate AU!

Author’s Note: Okay y’all, not sure how i feel about this one lol, I’m kinda on the fence about it? But I kinda like it? Idk, you guys let me know what you think! ALSO! I highly recommend listening to - Oh, What a World by Kacey Musgraves in the last half of the fic, bc it was kinda the inspiration behind this idea.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, cursing, blood, minor injury, fluff.

/////

Living in a world where soulmates are determined from the day you turn fifteen sounds like something out of a science fiction book. Yet, here you were, living it every goddamn day. Most people love it, they love the idea that there is someone out there for them. Someone that is meant for them and only them until the day they leave this earth.

Not you.

You woke up on the morning of your fifteenth birthday, a Friday if you remember correctly, and you were beyond excited to see the words appear on your wrist. The words that your soulmate would say to you the moment you met. However, as you bolted upright in bed and pulled your sleeve up your arm, you felt your heart drop when there were no words on your wrist at all. You had run, panic written all over your face, to your mother who just smiled and said that sometimes it takes a few hours to appear. Afterall, hers didn’t show up until the afternoon of her special day. Your excitement came rushing back as you continued to get ready for school, but as the day came to a close…the words were still no where to be found.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, and the nights after when words still failed to appear on your wrist. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and you finally gave up on the idea of ever seeing the fateful words on your wrist. Your friends tried to console you, your parents took you to multiple specialists, but no one could tell you why the words never appeared.

Why you didn’t have a soulmate.

Eventually you grew out of the childish hope of having a soulmate, you could find happiness elsewhere, you were sure. You threw yourself into your schoolwork, excelled in it and eventually, after college, you landed a job in the DEA. You worked there for several years, quickly becoming a senior agent and creating a name for yourself. A name that your superiors caught onto and the reason you were transferred to Colombia to help the other DEA agents take down Escobar.

That’s how you ended up here, sitting across from Steve Murphy while Javier Peña was discussing the reports of the latest take down to the ambassador. Your eyes kept glancing up at the clock, counting down the seconds until you could go home. You returned your eyes back to your paperwork and bounced your leg impatiently before casting another look at the clock a few feet away.

“What has you so worked up?” Steve huffs, taking his eyes from his desk to look at you instead.

You just shrug, not really wanting to talk about it, “Nothing. Just ready to go home is all,” you say lamely, tapping your pen against the desk absentmindedly.

Steve rolls his eyes before a shit eating grin works his way onto his face and he leans back in his chair, “Oh…” he sighs, “I bet I know what it is.”

You sit up straighter and cross your arms, “I highly doubt that Steve,” you retort, trying to get him to back off.

He just chuckles, “Oh yeah I do. I bet you and Michael have some plans, am I right?” he asks smugly.

At the mention of the man’s name, your heart drops into your stomach and a frown tugs at the corner of your lips. He was the last thing you wanted to talk about.

“No Steve, we don’t have plans,” you bite, looking away from him.

At that very moment the one man you really didn’t want to have this conversation with came waltzing back through the door, glancing between you and Steve, “Who doesn’t have plans?” Javier asks, innocently.

You wave your hand in the air, trying to dismiss the conversation, “It’s nothing Javi, Steve is just-“

“just trying to figure out why miss (y/n) over here is so anxious to leave the office,” he says teasingly, “I think it’s because she has plans with Michael – if you catch my meaning,” he says suggestively, elbowing Javier.

You see Javier clench his jaw at Steve’s words, an action that doesn’t surprise you since he never seemed to like the guy you were dating anyways, but you don’t dwell on it too long before you’re leaning across your desk and smacking Steve’s hands with a nearby folder.

“I don’t have any plans with Michael!” you say defiantly, “Now will you just fucking drop. It.” You spit out the words, irritated that your friend won’t just leave you alone.

Steve just laughs, “Oh come on (y/n), I’m just having a little fun! You’ve been together for a while, now right? I’m surprised he hasn’t dropped the question yet. Guy’s crazy about you from what I hear from the other agents,” he says casually.

You feel tears sting the back of your eyes at the mention of something that could never be, and you have to choke out a response, “Yeah, well-“ you cough, trying to hide the tears in your voice, “he dumped me last night. So, I doubt he’ll be asking ‘the question’ anytime soon,” you say bitterly, slumping back into your seat.

Javier and Steve’s eyes go wide at the news and surprisingly Javier was the one to speak up first, “he dumped you? Just like that?” he asks, bewilderment and, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a slight tinge of hope in his voice.

You don’t look at either of them, afraid that if you do, you’d burst into tears right that moment, “Yeah…” you whisper, “just like that.”

“What in the hell-“ Steve begins, but you shake your head.

“I really don’t want to talk about it guys, can we just drop it? Please?” you beg.

Steve shakes his head, apparently not hearing your plea, “That asshole…I swear to god if I see his ass I will-“

“Steve please!” you call, “He had every reason to do it.”

Javier jumps in at this point, “What possible reason could he have for just dumping you out of nowhere?”

You shake you head, eyes glancing up to the clock and realizing it was time to go, you quickly stood from your chair, desperate to avoid telling them the one thing you hated about yourself, “I’ve got to go guys” you whisper, trying to gather your things as they continue to badger you with questions within the small space of your shared office.

“did he cheat on you?” “did he get another job?”

“I just can’t believe-“

Just as you retrieved your gun from your desk drawer you slammed it shut, silencing both men as you blurted out the only thing running through your mind the entire day, “He left me because he found his soulmate! Okay?” you cry, barley holding back the tears threating to spill, “He left me for her, even thought he has no goddamn idea who she is. There! Are you happy now?” You bark out the words before turning on your heel and leaving the office, ignoring the calls of apology from your partners.

------

When you finally got back to your apartment, you dumped your stuff by the door and went immediately to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of the strongest alcohol you had. Once you poured the dark amber liquid into the glass your eyes fell to the bottle and realized that it was a gift that Michael had given you for your anniversary. As you stared at the bottle, you felt all the emotions and tears you had been holding back all day finally spill over. It felt like your heart was being torn into a million pieces – not really over Michael leaving you – but at the thought that you would probably be truly and utterly alone for the rest of your life.

You hated this. You hated the stupid tattoos on everyone’s wrists. You hated Michael. You hated his soulmate. You hated the world. At the last thought a harsh sob pulled itself from your throat just as you let out an anguished cry and threw the glass in your hand across the room, watching as it hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crash, the untouched liquid spraying across the wall and floor.

In your emotional and irrational state, the small act gave you some sense of control – a sense of satisfaction. So, without even thinking, you took the bottle in your hand next and threw it against the ground, watching as it hit the ground with a loud shatter before going silent once more. And as quickly as the satisfaction came, it seemed to leave all at once, and your tears returned full force as you leaned against the fridge and slid to the ground. You were so caught up in you thoughts that you didn’t even hear the rapid knocking on your door or the sound of it opening and footsteps rapidly approaching you until a familiar figure hovered in front of you.

“(y/n)? Jesus Christ – “ Javier’s voice spoke as he looked around you, “What the hell happened?” he asked.

You didn’t respond, you just looked blankly at the man in front of you as he grabbed your hands in his gently, moving to help you up, but he paused when his hands met yours, “Shit – you’re bleeding,” he said, tone serious yet concerned.

His words finally got your attention and you looked down to where his hands cradled yours and sure enough, the palms of your hands had a few cuts on them. Most likely from the glass scattered around you.

Javier let out a small sigh as he took in your shattered state, and he felt his heart constrict at the thought of what you must be going through. He turned away from you momentarily to retrieve the first aid kit he knew you kept under the sink. Once he had that, he tucked it under his arm before picking you up bridal style and walking you into your living room, sitting you down on the couch and taking your hands in his own once more. He started to tend to your wounds in silence, meticulously disinfecting them and wrapping a bandage around them. Neither of you said anything for a while, until he finally broke the silence.

“You’ll find them eventually you know,” he said quietly, pushing past the lump in his throat as he did.

You looked at him, a confused look on your face, “What?”

Javier sighed, “Your soulmate – you’ll find them eventually,” even if I don’t want you too.

He had to bite his tongue before the last words slipped out. He had been harboring feelings for you since the moment you walked into the embassy. He had even planned to ask you out to dinner a few weeks after you had arrived, but when you came in gushing about Michael – it crushed any hope he had of being with you. Honestly, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he felt a little spark of hope shoot through him when you told him you and Michael had broken up. But now, as he looks at the toll it has taken on you, all he felt was guilt. So, when you let out a humorless laugh, it was his turn to be confused.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

You shook your head, another tear slipping down your cheek, and he had to restrain himself from wiping it away as you spoke, “I don’t have a soulmate Javi,” you whimpered.

He felt his eyes widen at your admission, “you what?” he asks incredulously.

This time you hold your arms out to him, palms up to show him your bare wrists. Javier looked at them in a mixture disbelief and utter elation, thumbs rubbing your wrists lightly and you sigh a little at the contact. Deep down, you had always harbored feeling for your partner, it felt like an instant connection the moment you met, but the minute you found out about his habits, you dismissed the feelings, refusing to sign up for the hurt that was sure to come from a relationship with Javier. You realized after a moment in thought that you had never said anything after Javi, his thumbs still rubbing soothingly over your wrists, waiting patiently for you to respond.

You took in a shaky breath, “The words never appeared when I turned fifteen…or the years after,” you said lowly, “We went to so many specialist, talked to different people, scoured the library and newspapers for something – anything that would explain what was happening but-“ your voice cracked, and you shrugged your shoulders, “nothing. We couldn’t even find another case of this happening to someone,” a new wave of tears poured from your eyes as sobs wracked your body, “I’m going to be alone forever Javi-“ you cry, leaning forward as he pulls you into a tight embrace, “and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it,” you finally whisper.

Javi didn’t say anything at first, weighing his words as he held your shaking form in his arms. You both stayed like that until your sobs turned into small hiccups instead, and Javi finally decided to speak up.

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, hands rubbing up and down your back slowly.

You pulled away from him slightly, wiping at your nose as you sniffled, “What?”

Javier turned his gaze to the floor, uneasiness filling his mind as he struggled to utter the words he had been wanting to tell you for years now, “You don’t have to be alone – you’re not alone (y/n).”

You looked at him confused, unsure of what to say, so Javi took this as his cue to continue. He quickly pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and took his watch off, the one you always assumed covered his soulmate tattoo, only to reveal a blank expanse of skin – exactly like yours. You let out a small gasp and your eyes immediately snap to meet his own.

“You don’t – there’s no-“ your mind is running a million miles a minute at the realization that you are, in fact, not alone in the world.

Javier just sends you a small smile, “I never got my words either,” he admits, “So I just gave up all together, used it as an excuse to throw myself into my work and sleep around. But that was only until-“ he stopped in his tracks, weary of if he should continue down this path, and possibly ruin the partnership and friendship you both had.

You looked at the man crouched in front of you expectantly, hoping, praying he would say the words you had been thinking all these years. Even when you were with Michael.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow and finally spoke, “Until I met you,” he said softly.

As soon as the words left his mouth, you slid from the couch to kneel in front of him and brought your hands to the back of his neck, pulling him into a hesitant but passionate kiss. Javier was uncertain at first, wary that you were just upset – emotional from the breakup. But as soon as your lips met, as cliché as it sounded, it was like sparks flew. A fire ignited within Javier, something he had never felt with anyone he had been with before. And he eagerly retuned the kiss, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you up, so you were straddling him. Unfortunately, it felt as soon as you had kissed him you were pulling away, panting slightly and eyes wide as you looked down at him.

“Woah,” you both said in unison.

You let out a huff of laughter and leaned your forehead against Javier’s taking in a deep breath, relishing in the feeling if his arms around you. Your breaths mingled together as you continued to sit together, minds racing, trying to understand what you were feeling. As contradictory as it sounded, the thought that keeps crossing your mind is that you and Javi were meant for each other.

In some weird twist of fate, by neither of you having a soulmate – maybe you were soulmates. You closed your eyes as tears of relief and happiness gathered in your eyes and you finally spoke up, “I never thought that I would-“ your voice catches in your throat and Javi pulls away from you slightly, a hand cupping your cheek gently, thumb brushing away a tray tear.

“I didn’t either,” he admits quietly, a small smile adorning his face, “and then there was you.”

You let out a quiet laugh and kiss him quickly before nuzzling your face into his neck, “and then there was you,” you repeat, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you and Javi stayed in each other’s arms.

////

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#Javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader #javier peña #pedro pascal #narcos x reader #narcos #steve murphy

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myelocin · 4 years ago

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Here’s To Our Maybes | Ushijima Wakatoshi

Summary: Marriage with Wakatoshi felt natural, until, eventually, it didn’t. A story about how love can sometimes be met through those that have been lost.

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi, You, + surprise character that has no name sorry

Warnings/Genre: No warnings! Angst, Slice of Life, Fluff(?) but tbh mostly angst

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: This one is for my late mother, because I have been missing you lately. Hope you read this from the other side.

Click keep reading bc the whole fic is posted <3

You liked to take pride in the fact that most people noticed you took after your mother in many ways. After all, she was the woman who despite lived in a dying body, still had the heart to look at the world with the kindest eyes. Throughout your childhood, you watched her love bloom and nurture the hurt around her. Her hands healing, eyes loving, and heart always—always loving far too much for her withering body to take. And so early on in life, too early, you watch the same woman that you held above the universe quietly pass, an honest “I love you” spoken one last time for a man whose love never measured to a third of what she felt.

Her lips tilted to what looked like a ghost of a smile so you told yourself that you should be at peace with that. But only a year passed before you saw your father hold his new family within his arms, his lips singing praises of so much love and warmth that you couldn’t help but to feel your heart break for the woman who loved him more than herself.

That day you cry in your room, angry at the world, angry at your father, and anger at the fact that she deserved so much more. You remember her words, the ones that told you to “love someone who looks at you like they love you more than you love them”, her kind eyes, and feel your heart ache even more.

The second Ushijima Wakatoshi arrived in your life, the connection with him felt instant. Kageyama, a childhood friend of yours had been telling you about meeting his team because he thinks you would just love them. And true to his words, you did. Less than six months after meeting Wakatoshi, the two of you had already blended your life with the individual rhythm you two held.

Meeting him felt natural, but you learned that loving him felt like coming home. He spoke to you like he would whispering a secret in your ear; gently. He loved you in a way that had you feeling like you were caught in a never ending high. And his eyes. Every day that you were with him, he looked at you in a way that never failed to assure you that his love was absolute.

And he proved his love to you every day.

In the evenings he’d come home late from practice, where you’d sit with him across the dining table watching him eat the reheated dinner you had cooked for the both of you hours ago, he’d let his gratitude be known to you by taking your hands in his and kissing your knuckles. The kitchen would be quiet save for the sounds of Wakatoshi’s chewing and utensils clinking against the plate. You’d be wearing his old volleyball jacket from his university days and in between chewing he’d look at you and comment on how it practically looked like you were wearing a blanket instead of a jacket. You figured you loved the small talk the both of you would stumble on within your day; being an adult and having your own different schedules to finish often meant that you both would just meet when the day ended.

But you took pride in the fact that the two of you found a way to make it work. Wakatoshi was a quiet man, sometimes didn’t understand the jokes you’d pull, or particularly prefer the movies you’d have on during date nights, but his complaints were absent. He’d mumble out that he liked seeing you happy more than caring about the movie, so that comment always had you blushing more than usual.

Wakatoshi spoke to you with the simplest words that seemingly sounded beautiful (from him, ofcourse). You had learned that after waking up next to him for the first time. 6ams in the winter meant that the sun just peaked over the horizon. So the first thing that greeted you in that soft winter morning light was Wakatoshi’s sleeping face inches from your own. You thought he looked beautiful as your hands trailed up and traced along the features of his face; thumbs brushing over his cheeks and the edges of his lips. Winters in Tokyo often felt too cold for you on a normal day, but that morning felt different. And that difference was personified in the way Wakatoshi’s arms somehow brought you closer to his figure, one hand under your pillow and the other resting on your hips. His smile was as soft as the way he spoke his “Good morning”, and “I love you”, and up until now, you can never truly forget or taint the memory of how that warmth flooded you.

So as he opened his eyes and looked into yours, you remembered the words your mom always told you and searched for the answer in his. And the answer came to you as your breath hitched in your throat because within the olive pools of his eyes you saw how the love he held for you igniting, flickering, and flourishing. You could feel the apples of your cheeks strain from the stretch of your smile as you felt the echoes of how hard your heart began to beat.

And in that same winter morning, the way he held you flush against him and whispered his I love yous over and over again—made the cold feel a little warmer.

On the third year of being together, he asked you to marry him on a spring afternoon, so you said yes and felt the telltale signs of tears prickling in the corners of your eyes as he slipped the ring on your finger and looked at you beaming. At first you thought that Wakatoshi looked beautiful under the golden hues of a setting sun, but really, he looked beautiful because the love lit in his eyes looked and felt like the licks of fire on a cold night.

So a year later, the day before you walked down the aisle, you visited your mother’s grave and spoke of the man who looked at you like you held worlds on your palms. Wakatoshi stood beside you, in his hands a bouquet of yellow flowers, and you smiled because a week ago he looked at a photo of a smiling woman sitting by a garden of yellow and asked if it was because they were her favorite.

“We’re doing well.” You say and stare at her name painted gold on her tombstone. Wakatoshi doesn’t let the silence stretch because he stands straight and bows deep next to you.

“Thank you for raising her well. I’ll take care of her from now on.”

And he said the same words the next day as you stood with him under the branches of sakura trees midafternoon. Somewhere in the crowd you could see Kageyama smirk as if to tell you that he planned for the two of you to get married from the start, so you smile. Wakatoshi finishes his vows squeezing your hands in his and you meet his gaze—the presence of his love that lit in his mirroring the love raging, roaring, in yours.

Now that you think back to it, you weren’t sure where things began to shift. The nights where your husband wouldn’t come home until much later that night, you sat in the living room and let your thoughts drift. Being married to him for the past two years have nothing been in short of a blessing.

You still woke up next to him with his hands cradling your face, and he still looked at you in that soft way that never failed to get your heart going, but you felt a little stuck.

“Toshi, have I been too greedy? Am I too much?” You once asked him.

He clicked the TV off and faced you, brows slightly raised in question. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like I’m being too much.” You reply.

His brows furrow and so he does what he does best and takes your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and replying with, “Every day you always make me feel full.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear before letting you lean on him. “I love you because you overwhelm me with all that you are, (y/n).”

He meets your eyes and you search for the telltale lick of fire in his orbs. And you see it just barely flickering; you tell yourself it could have been false because your eyes were teary then, but the way your heart roared always left you feeling a bit unsettled. You think back to your mother’s words and try to convince yourself that this may have just been a slight hiccup in the road.

There’s no perfect marriage after all, right?

A month after that incident, you sit in your office during your break and pass the time by watching an interview your husband had the week before. Sitting back, you smile as his face appears on the screen after the commercial Kageyama starred in.

He answers the general questions of “How does it feel to finally win against your rival team?” and “What are your goals for next season?” with practiced ease, a trait of his that never ceased to leave you impressed. He had always been crafty with words and had a way of leaving the normally nosy reporters satisfied with his general answers.

Though this reporter may have been a different case because she suddenly blurts out, “So! How are you and your wife doing?”

The question seemed to have caught him off guard, but he recovers quickly and answers, “We’re doing great. Celebrating our third wedding anniversary together tonight.”

“Congratulations!” She expresses, then continues, “Three years! Are you planning on any kids?”

Unconsciously, you find yourself sitting up and listening intently for what his reply would be. The topic with children have been broached a few times over the years, but he was quick to dismiss it and steer the conversation elsewhere.

On the screen, you could see Wakatoshi pause before answering, “We’re still a bit young and busy. But maybe soon, when we’re both ready.”

The reporter nods at his answer and tells him a final goodluck before moving on to interview Kageyama. Wakatoshi stands beside him and looks at the camera, smiling with practiced ease. But you know better, because your heart clenched at the absence of the flickering flame that used to find home in his eyes.

And because Wakatoshi has a way with his words and actions, you shake your head and think that maybe it’s just the camera and weird angles, so you huff out a breath you had been holding, text your husband an ‘I love you! Can’t wait to celebrate tonight.’ and continue your day.

By the time midnight rolls around, the atmosphere was calm. After coming home from dinner, Wakatoshi suggests the two of you watch a movie, so you reply by pulling out the biggest blanket you could find in your shared linen closet. For the next few hours the atmosphere stays nice and calm as you are leaning against Wakatoshi’s frame with his hands mindlessly stroking your hair from time to time. In between lull moments of the movie (that he picked out this time), you look up and revel in the few moments you get to just look at your husband. At what you assumed was a funny scene, you’d see his eyes crinkle in the way it does when he got particularly happy, and he’d smile before letting out a laugh.

And as he lets out another hearty laugh with his eyes crinkling even further you feel the love inside you ignite even brighter; if you closed your eyes you could just picture it pulsing inside of you.

At this point, he probably felt your stare getting a little intense because he looked down at you, still smiling and kissed the tip of your nose.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah. I like looking at you happy.” Came your reply.

So his smile softens as he brings your forehead to his lips. “I love you, Toshi. Happy anniversary to us.” You say and look at him with the love you have inside you—beaming, burning, raging.

But as he stares back at you looking like his love is just flickering, for now you just swallow the lump in your throat and find comfort in the fact that at least something is flickering.

Love can’t be perfect all the time, right?

It was around three am, and knowing that Wakatoshi was still awake did you choose to finally break the silence.

“What do you think about having kids, Toshi?” You suppose it was a good idea on your part to ask that question now, because you couldn’t imagine what kind of expression was on your face at the moment.

“I think it’s good to have them,” Came his reply after a significantly long pause; though before you could reply he continued, “Just don’t think it’s a good idea any time soon.”

“Why not?” You reply, voice a little more hushed.

“There’s still a chance an international team could scout me and if we have kids now, it would throw off our plans.”

You shifted in bed and faced him in the dark. “Toshi, you know I can’t just leave the country like that right? You know how much I love my job and life here. With you.”

His reply came out in the steady tone you were familiar with. “You always supported me, though.”

Your brows furrowed and you were quick to answer. “I do, Toshi. But when the time comes, we need to make those decisions together.”

Shuffling closer to his form, you blindly feel for his face in the dark and press your lips against his.

“I love you.” You tell him

He hums into the kiss and pulls you closer to him as a reply. It was after his breaths were even and you were sure he was asleep that you buried your face deeper in his chest and thought about how much of a good thing it was to have talked to him in the dark where you couldn’t see the fading flicker in his eyes.

Deep known you knew something was shifting, and your mother’s words couldn’t be helped but flash behind your eyes—so you resort to shutting your eyes even tighter and repeating the assurance that everything would be okay over and over again until you eventually succumbed to sleep.

For the next few months, things for you (at least you liked to think), felt slightly off. Wakatoshi hadn’t mentioned the conversation again and resumed to shifting his focus to addressing the mundane things that for those short moments, it felt like everything was fine.

But it took some time to admit that things haven’t. Because not once has he looked straight at you in the nights you were intimate. You started waking up a little earlier than him and spent those extra minutes tracing the contours of his face, but you knew the moment he was awake because he’d always shift his body, turning away from you. And you knew he was aware that you must have gotten the hint because you turn your back too.

And you were glad you couldn’t see his eyes when he kissed your shoulder to what you think is a silent apology because at this point, you didn’t want to know if that flicker had completely dwindled into nothing. So you shut your eyes and try to fall back asleep; ignoring the roaring of your love fighting to be released inside you.

Early in your marriage, Wakatoshi and you indulged in the habit of dancing to the music that permeated the walls of your flat coming from the elderly couple living in the building next to yours. Neither of you were dancers but a simple sway to the beat and your head on his chest sufficed. Wakatoshi often mused at the thought of the couple dancing simultaneously with the two of you in their own quiet space. You liked to think the same too.

And that night, where the two of you sat in the kitchen table with the familiar music floating in from the open window to your left, you feel that flicker of hope tingling on the palms of your hand. Earlier that day, after your routine checkup, you came home cheeks flushed, and heart happy at the news that in you grew a little life from the love you and your husband shared.

On the train ride home you couldn’t help but to clutch at the ultrasound picture and feel the pricks in your eyes because this could finally fix things.

You sit across Wakatoshi, one hand subconsciously touching your stomach and the other fiddling against the edge of the envelope.

Wakatoshi takes his seat across from you and clears his throat before looking at you. “I need to talk to you about something.”

You smile at him. “I do too!”

The slight wince from you tone breezes right past you because you look down and begin pulling out the photo of the ultrasound to show him; then he suddenly speaks,

“I think we should get a divorce.”

Your eyes snap at him and you push the envelope back down your legs. “What?”

Wakatoshi doesn’t raise his head to meet your gaze so you repeat your question, albeit a little louder. “Toshi, what?”

He sighs and looks at anywhere but you. “We’re not happy, (y/n).”

Your hands grip the edge of the photo a little tighter, but you still keep it down. “Did something happen?”

He still doesn’t look at you. “I’ve been feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“So you decide that a divorce is our only option? Because you feel overwhelmed?”

He grimaces at your tone and faces you, though you could tell he was focusing his gaze on the wall behind you. “This doesn’t feel the same anymore, and you don’t deserve that.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach so you first let the silence settle before you grab his hands and place the photograph in front of him. “I’m pregnant, Tosh.”

He stays silent enough for you to take note that your neighbors play another slow song, so that floats through the open window again.

Gingerly, you take a breath, “We can get through this.”

“I got an offer to play for a team in the States, and I don’t want to take you away from your home.”

“You’ve always been my home, Toshi.”

He stays quiet, so you sigh and then speak, “Don’t you love me enough to fight for this?”

He finally looks at you and you suddenly want to sob. Like before, he takes your hands in his and kisses your knuckles gently. The music still plays and you think back to just a few years ago on a night similar to this the two of you had been swaying to what possibly may have been the same song playing now.

But as he looks straight at you and says, “I’m sorry.” you knew his decision was absolute because in his eyes all you saw were cinders from a dying flame.

So now at thirty years old, seventeen years after she left, you visit your mother’s grave and offer a silent prayer. With you, you bring a bouquet of yellow flowers, her favorite, and a story to tell. Your son, age four, stands next to you holding your right hand. You let go as you kneel down and offer a silent prayer. From the corner of your eye, you see your son do the same, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration as he muttered his own prayers to the woman he grew up hearing stories about.

You sit in front of the grave and begin to tell her that after you gave birth and after the divorced was finalized, Wakatoshi left for the states. Your son perks at the mention of his father and animatedly begins talking about how his dad bought him so much toys that they didn’t have in Japan from his recent visit. You smile as you listen because you were happy that Wakatoshi still found the time to be involved in his only son’s life.

He was right; at that time the both of you couldn’t meet in the middle and find a common ground with the splitting direction your lives were taking.

“Maybe there’s a story for us in time.” He’d told you as he first held your son in his arms. And you nodded, answering with a “Maybe.” Because for now, the future really is just a maybe.

Thinking back to the years you were married, he was someone you couldn’t bear to regret. And looking at your mother’s tombstone you suddenly remember her smile and final words to your father. Like her, you found yourself falling in love with a man who couldn’t return that same love in the end—and along with its end, it was okay. Because she, and you, had given it your all.

For a snippet in time, he had loved you in his own way and looked at you with a fire rivaling your own.

And you truly couldn’t bear to regret him because in the end, he had given you your son. The little boy who woke up extra early in the mornings so he could sneak in your bed and cuddle you before he knew he had to get ready for school. The little boy who drew smiley faces with ketchup on your omelet because “Mama, you need to smile more”.

He has Wakatoshi’s eyes, you think to yourself as he looks at you, eyes crinkling from the width of his smile.

He plucks a yellow flower from the bouquet and shuffles closer to you. “Mama, how much did you love your mama?”

You take the flower from his hands and tuck it behind his ear. “A lot.”

He nods and stretches his arms. “This much?”

You peck his forehead and laugh before mirroring his stance, though stretching your arms a little wider. “Nope. Thiiiiiis much!”

He pouts before standing up and walking closer to you, the flower still tucked in his ear (you couldn’t help but laugh because he looked just like his father), “Well, Mama, I love you, “ he pauses to stretch his arms as wide as he could go, “Thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis much!!”

And just like that you look at his eyes, the familiar pools of olive, gleaming at you kindling a fire that burned so beautifully that you can’t help but choke up because you remember the words your mother told you all those years ago.

In your son’s eyes you see her meaning, because for the first time you understand what she finally meant and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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jpegjade · 4 years ago

Text

Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmares)

SO remember how i told you guys that the next fic was gonna be angsty fluff? well i present to you the angstiest thing i have yet to write. (i had to reel myself back. i definitely went angstier but i decided not to go there this early in the game) - and yes, the title is a kid cudi song.

Request: Okay another request… and I know you love to write angst so how about something where the reader is having a hard time sleeping bc of nightmares and has been trying her best to keep it from Spence but he obviously knows and tries to help?

__________________

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of one Spencer Reid. A brilliant young man whose life was cut short by the grips of life.” Some priest said, standing at the front of a podium.

You were outside, standing under a tent with a group of people. You tried to look at their faces but it was like everything was in a haze. The priest continued talking but it’s like his voice slowed down, almost as if he went underwater somehow. You looked down, seeing yourself in your funeral dress. Was this real?

“And now a few words from his fiance.” The priest motioned to you.

It’s like your body started moving on its own. You walked to the front of the tent, in front of everyone. Slowly, their faces came into view. One by one, you recognized who you were looking at and all of them were crying. Even his mom was there, crying just as hard as everyone else. There wasn’t a dry eye in the tent area.

“My heart is broken... “ You began, not sure where the words were coming from. Even now, you weren’t sure what was really happening but you started to piece things together. “The love of my life…” You started sobbing, the words getting caught in your throat.

“The love of my life is gone, taken by a cruel excuse for a man. If I could trade my life for his, I would in a heartbeat. His bright eyes, loving smile, he deserves the world and every good thing in it. And now… Now, I can’t give it to him…”

You turned, looking at the coffin. He looked so peaceful, like no bad thing could touch him anymore. And that was true. He was relieved of his pain and suffering. Pressing your lips to his forehead one last time, you whispered, “I love you now and forever.”

You woke with a start. You were drenched in sweat and sobbing, although it didn’t feel like it. Your tears were mixed with sweat. You wrapped your arms around your torso, rocking yourself as you tried to calm down. Your heart raced and there was a painful ache in your body. Something was missing, an empty hole inside of you. You tried to breathe but it felt absolutely impossible. Your chest was so tight with fear that you didn’t think you would ever calm down.

Slowly, you began to breathe normally again. The room stopped spinning and you were able to loosen up enough to go get a glass of water. Your footsteps were quiet but your body felt so heavy. You struggled to stand up straight at the weight on your shoulders. Filling up your cup with water, you checked the time on the stove. It was only 11 PM. You must have fallen asleep early for you to wake up at this time. A few swallows later, you were ready to get back in bed.

What the fuck was that dream… Shit Spencer. If that wasn’t a dream, if that was a memory, you were going to lose it.

It was only 11 so you knew Spencer would still be awake, if not wrapping up at the office. When you used to sleep over at his apartment, he would stay up late because he had a cup of coffee late in the day and the effects were still hitting him. The two of you would stay up talking until one of you dropped. Sometimes, the conversations were good, all about how he was basically a superhero and you were a goddess, according to him.

‘Hey, angel.” You melted at the sound of his voice. He was okay.

“Hey yourself. How was work?” You asked, trying to keep things nonchalant. You just needed to hear him talk for a little bit and then you would feel better about everything going on.

“It was tiring. I’ve been doing desk work since I hurt my leg.” He said, pretending to be annoyed. Or maybe he was annoyed, you couldn’t tell.

You completely forgot he hurt his leg for a moment. All you could think about was that dream…

“Do you want to come over?” He asked, disrupting your thoughts. You were glad but you were unsure about this. What if you had another nightmare?

“I don’t know about that, Spence. I’m a little too tired to drive.” That was the only excuse you would think of to not go. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to spend the night with you but I’m scared of falling asleep at the wheel.”

“I like that you’re cautious. Well, I’m on my way home. Do you want me to swing by?” Spencer said, looking for a reason to stop by.

“Only if you feel up to it.” You said, excited to have someone to help you stay awake. It would be easier to stay awake with your fiance there, right?

20 minutes later, Spencer walked through your door. Immediately embracing you in a hug, he smelled of lavender and coffee. You weren’t sure how that worked but it did on him.

“You’re always so cozy.” You said, face full of his sweater. It was beginning to be a long hug but you needed it.

“Are you ready to actually let me inside?” Spence said, chuckling at the realization that it was becoming an extra long hug.

“Inside of me or the apartment?” You laughed, finally letting go of him.

“Your pick.” He said, smirking.

“Get in here, you goofball.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside your apartment.

The two of you laid on the couch, watching Doctor Who for a little while before you started to drift off to sleep. Your head in Spencer’s lap, legs up on the couch, Spencer just watched you drift to sleep, smiling at how rested you looked.

“Spencer. Spencer, it’s me. You don’t have to do this. Please, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You pleaded, your fiance’s back turned to you.

“I can’t, y/n.” Spencer was crying, hard. “There’s so much darkness inside of me and I can’t navigate it. I can’t understand how to get rid of it. Some genius I am, right?”

“Baby, no.” You took a couple tentative steps closer to him. You didn’t want him to get scared.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. You say all these nice things about me and I can’t… I don’t understand.” He was still crying. That was a good sign. He still felt something. He wasn’t numb.

“Spencer, listen to my voice. You’re not all dark, okay? That brilliant mind of yours isn’t going to figure it out if you give up now. Let me help you understand.” Your voice was hardly steady but it was just enough to keep him engaged.

You kept inching towards him. Your hands were shaking still. You were almost there.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Spencer!” You yelled, bolting upright.

You fell asleep. Shit. But Spencer wasn’t holding you anymore. You didn’t see him. You also weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in your bed, shaking.

“Hmm? I’m right here.” Spencer said, turning over. He pulled you into his arms and held you as you explained your dreams and how they were backward.

“Spence, I’m afraid to go to sleep. I can’t handle you being taken away from me.” You sobbed, trying to slow down.

“Hey, you’re not going to lose me at all. We’ve got plans and things to accomplish. I wouldn’t dare leave you to your own devices.” He chuckled.

Hearing Spencer make light of the situation helped a little bit. You knew it was his way of helping you through the situation before he turned serious again.

“Y/n, dreams are less about the future and more about the subconscious. Your fears manifest in two second bits of information but your brain slows it down to read the information. What you’re suffering from is common under high pressure or stressful situations. I know you’ve been suffering from nightmares for a little while. You don’t ever want to tell me these things but I find out eventually.” He said, pulling you tighter to his chest.

You could hear his heart, slow and steady. The blood pumping in your ears started to get quieter the more he spoke.

“You’ve been sleepless for at least a week. You’ve been wearing more make-up to cover up the dark circles and exhaustion. You have had an excuse not to sleep over at my place for a little while. Your clothes are always wrinkled and you have been more forgetful lately because you’re so tired. I haven’t said anything because I wanted to give you space to figure it out since I know you’ll call me when you feel like I can help.” He paused.

“You know I’m here for you, right?” He said, kissing the top of your head.

“I know. But it’s so hard… I thought I had this under control.” You sighed, wrapping your arm around Spencer.

“Baby, you have to ask for help sometimes. You have to know that some things aren’t going to happen because there’s no way in hell I would leave you. The only thing I’m sorry for right now is that I didn’t step in sooner. I didn’t think it would get this bad…” Spencer got progressively quieter the more he talked.

“Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I feel like you have enough to worry about. I want to be the sunshine in your life, the thing you look forward to seeing because I bring you joy.” You sighed.

“I know. But you don’t have to do anything to give me that feeling, sunshine.” He said, smiling. “I come home to the most beautiful, smart, incredible girl in the world every day, when I’m not on trips, that is.” He chuckled.

“Spence… You’re too sweet.” You said, burying your face into his chest. You didn’t even realize he was shirtless until you lifted your head and put it back down on his chest.

“Sweet like sugar.” He said. He smirked in the low light of the lamp on your bedside table.

“Spencer, that light was in my living room. Did you move it?” You asked, wondering why he would do something like that.

“When I have nightmares, I find that it’s easier to get my bearings when I can see what’s around me. In the dark, anything can happen. In the dark, the monsters come out. But in the light, you’re able to see that you’re safe. So I moved it so you can wake up and recognize you’re safe with me.” Spencer said.

“You’re the best, you know that?” You said, getting sleepy again.

“And you’re mine.” He said, followed by a yawn.

There was something different about when you fell asleep this time. You had more control, felt more peaceful and less nervous. You were able to breathe again knowing that Spencer was right there with you. For the first time in a little while, you were able to get a peaceful couple hours of sleep.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #cm #criminal minds

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