#as an adult i’m aware of it and i refuse to fall for it anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saerins · 2 years ago

Text

─── & 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 4k | content: slight angst, established relationship, friends/exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, breakup, mentions of jealousy, implied adults here

notes: DISCLAIMER I HAVENT WRITTEN PROPERLY IN A WHILE so it’s probably quite shitty but i missed him ok !!! T_T sobs i hope you guys like this one <3

summary: sae’s still learning the ropes on being in a relationship, and sometimes you think you can’t wait any longer. but this is itoshi sae, maybe you can.

sae hates this sickly tension in the air.

your brows are furrowed and you’re biting your lower lip; it’s the look of confusion that he’s not very used to, but is most aware of anyway. it’s the look you always carry when you’re upset and conflicted and you’re trying not to say any more than you already have on the off chance that you’d cry after you do.

it’s not your fault for getting jealous—sae knows that. all it is is an unfortunate byproduct of him not being around as much as you need him to. but in his head, his mind tells him one thing only: how can you expect him to when that’s what his career entails?

didn’t you know that before agreeing to be his girlfriend?

maybe you’re painfully aware of how it’s neither of your faults, and maybe that’s why you’re really confused. because there’s no one to blame. sae wasn’t to blame for having to show up at an event with some famous actress. he was doing his job. he had told you not to go, but somehow oliver had taken it upon himself to invite you anyway.

“i’m at every event with a different girl, the tabloids wouldn’t suspect a thing about her being your girlfriend, right?”

famous last words because sae’s going to have to kill him one day for that.

beside you on the couch, sae’s head falls to his hands, elbows propped on his knees. it’s not your fault either, he realises, for not being able to take it when you experience firsthand how people gush over him and saiko, the actress. you aren’t used to this life. maybe you shouldn’t have to.

“i don’t know what to do anymore, sae.”

after an entire hour of arguing how he should at least talk to you about these things instead of throwing them under the rug, after an entire hour of how sae tried to defend himself by saying he couldn’t possibly read your mind—you’re both exhausted.

“well i don’t fucking know neither,” he confesses, half snaps, and his head is still in his hands. he knows you’re looking at him, wanting to search his expression for answers that he can’t give verbally. but sae doesn’t want you to see him like this, unsure and conflicted, almost as much as you.

through your eyes, you’ve never felt more rejected than you do when you look at your entire world and see it refuse to let you in. his hair is a mess now, from running after you in the rain, his expression is unreadable and his clothes soaking through his body. sae is always like this when there’s a fight—always avoiding the hard conversations.

and maybe you would’ve let it slide if you’re sure of his feelings for you, but you’re not. you’ve been friends with sae for three years, been together with him for six months. but in all this time, he’s never actually told you how he feels for you. not a small utterance of his love, or any indication of his feelings through text.

no matter how strong or optimistic you are, you aren’t sure if you can last any longer like this.

“sae, can you answer me honestly?”

he doesn’t say a thing, but you know he’s listening. he always does. which is why it hurts even more when he doesn’t do anything whenever you argue. because you know that out of everyone, itoshi sae best knows what you need.

but he won’t do it.

“do you still want this?”

a suffocating silence blankets the room, and after an agonising two minutes, you get your answer in his silence.

slowly, you get up off the couch, and you can almost laugh at why your impending departure is the only thing that can make him look at you.

“i’m sorry, sae, i can’t do this anymore,” you tell him, smiling even though you’re crying, and for a moment, the way he widens his beautiful teal eyes and how he instinctively reaches out to grab your wrist almost breaks you. but you’ve decided, and it’s too late now. “i’ll find an apartment and move out as soon as i can.”

when sae watches you retreat to your shared bedroom and lock the door, he realises by the plunging of his heart that he’s not okay with this. that he’s not okay with letting you leave. it’s stupid why he can’t even find the fucking words to say because he does, he does want this.

that’s why he rushes to the door, knocks rapidly in succession only to hear silence in return. and now he knows exactly how you feel. you’ve always been the vocal one, always been there—armed with your assurances that you never realised he needed, coupled with your smile that drives every negativity in his head away.

“y/n, open the door,” sae tries, but you don’t respond. he hears the tap switching on and he’s cursing himself in his head. his forehead presses against the white wooden surface, unable to bring himself away. “y/n, talk to me.”

for the first time since he met you, you don’t listen.

the next morning is even more torturous than the night sae spent not sleeping.

when you finally come out of the room, you feel like a stranger. your hair’s done up, your makeup fresh, the smile on your face is still gone.

“morning.”

your eyes flick up to meet his as you walk to the kitchen, but they don’t light up like they used to. he can see you swallowing the lump in your throat before you choke out a good morning in return, though it’s strained.

have you been crying all night?

“listen, can we talk about last night?” sae asks, but it’s futile.

the way you close the fridge door carelessly sits uncomfortably with him, only because he feels like he recognises you even less. the way you smile after that is so forced he would rather you didn’t.

“oh right, about that, good news,” you try to sound chirpy, but it settles awkwardly between the both of you. “i managed to find some listings, so i’m gonna go check them out. fingers crossed i’ll be out of your hair soon!”

you’re prancing around the kitchen like a madwoman, humming tunes he doesn’t know and playing the part of not you all too well.

“y/n, i don’t want you to—”

“stop, sae,” you cut him off, heart broken and head buried in the cupboard.

he saunters to your side, not daring to get too close to you, afraid you’d just retreat further away. “tell me what i can do.” a part of him wants you to ask him that question again, so that he can answer now. so that he can tell you how he really feels.

but it doesn’t come. you’re just staring blankly at the wall.

when his gaze falls to your neck, he realises that necklace he gave you isn’t there like it used to be everyday. his heart sinks even further. “you’re not wearing it anymore?”

it’s stupid of him to expect you to. as of last night, you both were as good as broken up, after all.

“y/n, can we talk? i really—”

“sae, enough,” you utter through gritted teeth. “i don’t want to hear it anymore.”

—love you. that’s what he wants to say. but you’re past caring, it seems.

sae’s lips are sewn tightly shut after that, both of you eating breakfast in silence. you’re eating what you cooked, some sausages and a sunny egg and toast while sae’s stuck with cereal because you usually do all the cooking.

you don’t look at him, and he doesn’t look at you. the hands on the analog clock are all either of you hear aside from your own chewing.

“at least let me drive you,” sae says as you head for the door, slipping into your sneakers.

your hand hovers over the doorknob, as though you’re considering it, and for a minute sae is hopeful, but then the next minute, you pour water over his fire.

“it’s fine, i can manage fine on my own.”

for some reason, sae feels like you’re telling him that for much more than just today.

days pass and you’ve barely spoken two words to each other. sae finds himself taking the chance to look at you much more than he has before; you still look tired. maybe it’s from all the house visiting, or maybe it’s the outcome of being with him. he’s still not okay with you moving, with you not being in his life, but sae’s stuck at a loss of what to do.

you’d been spearheading this relationship all this time that now, sae has no idea what to do. any attempt at a conversation is thwarted by you, and any time he comes near you, you relegate to the room and lock yourself in there.

sae’s taken his necessities and moved to the guest bedroom, and he thinks it’s so stupid to think that sleeping in a different room is better than being at a different apartment altogether.

but how long until you find a suitable apartment and move out? how long until sae has zero chance at being able to see you again?

“that sounds like a you problem though.”

as sae sits across the booth and deadpans at his younger brother, he thinks maybe the most useless thing you’ve ever done is repairing their relationship. especially with rin mumbling useless shit like that.

“yeah, thanks for the help,” sae rolls his eyes, watching as rin pops a nugget into his mouth.

“why didn’t you answer her then?” rin surveys his older brother’s movements; uncomfortable, awkward, reserved. he’s amazed that anyone can get sae like this, if he’s honest. he doesn’t usually give a shit about anything that doesn’t concern himself.

sae sighs. if he knew, he wouldn’t be here. he’d be with you, trying to explain how fucked up he is and why he didn’t say shit when he should’ve. but now, you won’t even give him the chance to talk without shutting yourself away.

rin groans, thoroughly annoyed because unbeknownst to his brother, you’d already filled rin in on everything. besides, you’re kind of already like a sister to him anyway. and you’re better at being an older sibling than sae is, granted.

“do you still want her though?” rin asks. it’s kind of tiring, being in the middle, being told by both parties to not say a thing to the other. he’s also tired of sae and his cryptic messages when he wants advice but is too proud to outright ask for it. and also of you whining in his messages about how if sae keeps this up you can’t keep being strong about this anymore.

“yeah.”

sae’s answer is surprisingly simple, and rin is entirely unamused.

“yeah maybe i see why she left you.”

“excuse me?”

rin meets his brother’s gaze, unrelenting. “you still want her yet you’re here telling me about it instead of her. i think you’d win best boyfriend of the millenia award.”

rin is dripping with sarcasm and maybe if he wasn’t his brother sae would’ve already punched him. but by the end of the night, sae can only come to one conclusion; it’s his fault for not talking it out when he could. so he could either let you go, or try, just like you did before.

he’d have to do it tonight, unless he wants to wait another month after his match next week in the states. but if he does, you’d be gone by then, he knows it. so he has to make it tonight.

and he’s hopeful, because he’ll make it fucking work no matter what he has to do. he’s not going to back down that easily, not anymore. and he knows it’s late and it’s 11pm and you’re probably asleep but fuck, you’re just going to have to wake up when he pounds hard on the bedroom door.

which is exactly what he plans to do—wake you up, talk to you, and tell him how fucking stupid he is and that he’s sorry and he fucked up.

it probably won’t make up for all the times he failed to speak when he should’ve, but sae thinks it’s a start.

so he unlocks the front door and walks straight to your bedroom door, but when he reaches up to knock it, he realises it isn’t even locked. when he slowly opens the door, you aren’t even there.

sae knows what to expect, but he still opens the closet anyway. and all the drawers. and inspects the bathroom. but every trace of you is gone. even the photos in the living room that had been all framed up. it’s no longer there. you probably threw them somewhere.

fuck.

he’d chase you if he could, but you’re already long gone. his calls aren’t even going through—did you block him already? not even a goodbye note, nothing.

it’s useless, but he opens your chat thread anyway.

y/n, come back. i still want this.

but it reads undelivered.

it’s a long shot. a very, very, slim chance.

sae tries to take it anyway.

a month later, the moment he touches down and puts his luggage back at home, he grabs his car keys and makes a break for your favourite hangout; a cosy family cafe at the edge of the city, near your workplace. he’s taken you there many times before on your request, and if there’s anywhere he’ll find you, he bets it’s there.

after a whole agonising month of trying and failing to talk to you, sae’s still going to try. fuck it if you reject him after that—at least he gets to say he tried.

he sits at the cafe from noon till evening, five hours of occupying the spot at the corner—your favourite one because you say it shades from the sun and it’s easy to wave the waiter over.

sae’s beginning to think that you’re not coming today, but then he sees a familiar figure strolling into the cafe. it’s not you, but it’s your best friend, suzuki, if he remembers correctly. suzuki, the one with the black hair and sharp blue eyes because the moment she walks in, she spots him in the corner, a knowing smirk on her face.

“what’re you doing here?” she asks, without a greeting first, because you probably told her what happened and she’s probably not very happy with him.

sae sighs, feeling stupid sitting here for five hours. although at least, she’s confirmation that you’ll be here soon.

“eating.” weak excuse, but whatever.

suzuki cocks a brow, “sure you’re not just a pathetic loverboy waiting for my best friend?”

is this embarrassment even worth it anymore?

before suzuki can say any more, sae hears a very familiar voice speaking his name, and there it is again—all the negativity seeped out of him in an instant.

“y/n, hey,” he greets, as though you haven’t been avoiding him this whole time.

on your part, you acknowledge him, which is way better than what he expected (you storming out and running away from him).

“what’re you doing here?”

sae wants to talk to you, but with suzuki’s eyes glued onto him, it kind of ruins the mood. still, this is the most you’ve spoken in two months and he’s not about to pass that up.

“i wanted to talk to you,” he says, keeping his voice down. “meet me after dinner?”

there is hesitance in your eyes, but your gazes meet again and for the first time since that night, sae is greeted with your genuine smile—“yeah, sure.”

just like that he’s taken back to three years ago when he first met you, when he first saw you smile at him and instantly knew that he had to have you, somehow. sae’s stupid to have hurt you however he did, he knows that now.

but now, selfish as it is, he can only hope that you haven’t moved on yet.

sae puts your new address into his phone as you get into the car, fortunately agreeing to let sae drive you home.

“so, how’ve you been?”

it’s a stupid question to start with, and he hates himself for not getting to the point, but sue him; he’s still somehow afraid you’d shut him out straightaway if you knew what he really wanted to talk about.

your fingers rest awkwardly on your lap. sae can’t help but remember how they used to crawl over to the driver’s seat, resting on his thighs or teasingly curling his hair.

“i’m okay, finally left that job of mine.”

the one with the overbearing boss who micromanages way too much—yeah, sae remembers. he really wishes he’d treasured the little things more when he had them, like your small updates on your job and your family, or even the way you’d routinely text him everyday after work to see what he wanted for dinner.

“found a new one yet?”

you look out the window where you’d usually look at him. guess this is still awkward for you. “nope, but i’m working on it. i have a couple of interviews scheduled next week.”

“that’s nice,” sae responds, albeit half-heartedly because he’s never been good at conversations like these.

(on your end, you can’t help but realise how slow he’s driving even when there’s no other car in front of him. a part of your heart warms at the fact that maybe itoshi sae wants more time with you after all.)

“how about you? how was the match in london? heard you guys won by a huge margin.” (that’s a lie. you didn’t hear anything, you watched the match, stayed up late and all. nothing that sae needs to know.)

sae can tell you’re lying though, because you have that little habit where your ears twitch ever so slightly when you speak, and he chuckles softly. “it’s not a crime to watch my match, you know?”

your cheeks heat up—you really shouldn’t have asked anything at all. you whip your head towards him, sulking, “i didn’t watch it, okay?”

“sure, whatever you say,” sae tells you, feeling the tension lift off, feeling the normal you come back again. “how’s the new house?”

“it’s… okay. my roommate’s a little bit annoying but i can live with it.”

sae thought he could endure the small talk a little longer, but he can’t. not really. because the words just slip out of his mouth.

“then move back in with me.”

the car comes to a stop at a red light, and neither of you can look at each other. sae wonders if you’re just going to be impulsive and run out the door.

you don’t.

“it’ll be a little awkward living with an ex, don’t you think?”

“then all you have to do is get back with me,” sae answers, witty as you always remembered.

a moving car isn’t the best place to have this conversation, but if he doesn’t take the chance now, what if he loses it forever?

“i was stupid, okay? i don’t know why i didn’t say anything back then but the answer is yes, yes i do still want this- you.”

and it takes you aback slightly, because he’s never been one to be so vocal about his emotions. it kind of scares you a little too, how easily you fold when it comes to sae. it took everything in you to block his number that day, and everywhere else, and you’ve been hard at work trying to forget him, to the extent you’d agreed to room with some male even though you knew it was a bad idea.

but the moment you saw sae in that cafe, everything goes back to square one. and you’re kind of sick of lying to yourself—that the way you left didn’t leave a gaping hole in your heart, that the way you blocked him didn’t leave you chock full of regrets.

“maybe you should’ve said that before i left, then.” but you’re also stubborn, so there’s that.

sae pulls up outside of your new apartment complex right as the words leave your mouth, but his hand reaches out to grip your wrist after you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“i know i probably wasn’t a good boyfriend—” sae can’t bring himself to look at you as he speaks the words he thought would never leave his mouth— “but i promise i’ll work on it, ‘kay? just- don’t leave.”

again.

maybe in another life, you’re stronger than this. in that other life, maybe sae’s better at being expressive, better at reassuring you.

your eyes flick across the car to meet his, and he’s looking right at you, a sort of gaze that you’ve never really quite seen before—a mixture of both faith and fear. his grip on your wrist is firm, as if he’s afraid you didn’t believe him when he uttered those words.

“you make it very hard to stay broken up, you know that?” you’re pouting, hard, if only to try to keep yourself from smiling.

and the second you respond, the second he realises you didn’t reject him, his expression levels with that of a—how would you describe it, a golden retriever? as though he’s wagging his tail.

“so- you’re willing to give this a shot?”

you chew your inner cheek, “not so fast, hot shot. i’m not taking you back that easily.”

sae pulls back, cocking a brow, but he knows by the tone of your voice that his chance is at least granted. “what do you mean?”

you grin, “maybe i want you to chase me again, itoshi sae. can’t have you thinking i’m that easy to get, you know?”

your future boyfriend smirks, shaking his head. “you’re impossible, y/n l/n.” you hear nothing but fondness in his voice.

and just like the good boyfriend he envisions himself to be in the future, he walks you up to your doorstep, complete with giving a peck on your forehead when you arrive.

“how am i doing so far?”

“sae, it’s only been an entire elevator ride!” you laugh, sae pecking even more kisses onto your face. what makes this entirely more amusing is how he’s so straight-faced while doing it. “okay okay, i’ll rate you a six so far. you’re gonna have to do better on those dates you’ll ask me out on.”

he thinks you’re such a tease, but hey, he wouldn’t have you any other way.

when you open the door, you turn around to look at him, pressing your lips into a firm line before placing a quick kiss on his lips, making his heart skip two beats because he didn’t think you’d be so kind.

“see you soon, itoshi sae?”

sae nods, “yeah tomorrow.”

“someone’s eager,” you chuckle, though you agree to it. “see you tomorrow.”

bonus: the next day

“itoshi sae, you’re too much.”

you’re lugging your suitcase behind you, sae carrying one of the heavier boxes. he keeps quiet, a sullen expression on his face.

“we could’ve at least waited for the movers to be available, you know?” you sigh as you get into the lift, sae pressing the topmost floor—back to the apartment you shared after a mere month of living on your own.

sae’s expression is now tilted towards you, and you don’t need him to speak to know what he’s thinking.

“do i really deserve the silent treatment for this?”

you’re not really arguing, but having a little disagreement. a small part of you is happy you get to do this with sae again, and not anyone else. that just means you two are that much closer, still.

“as if i’m gonna let you continue living there.”

you scoff, “what are you talking about? that apartment was completely fine!”

sae raises a brow, completely aware that you’re not actually back together but not being able to help himself nonetheless. because like hell is he ever allowing you to live there ever again.

“don’t fucking care, you’re not living with that michael fucking kaiser ever again.”

#bllk x reader #sae x reader #itoshi sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae itoshi x reader #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

2K notes · View notes

bowiebond · 2 years ago

Text

TW dubcon/mention of SA? (Ace character who doesn’t know they’re ace is belittled into sex — it doesn’t go into detail)

Jason never realising he’s asexual until he marries a girl and goes “oh fuck I waited until marriage like a good Christian boy, but I’m supposed to do the deed now…”

He holds off as long as possible. Makes excuses. Until it’s been months and his wife snaps at him.

“What, is your dick broken or something?! Am I not attractive enough for you? I married you in hopes of having an easy well off life with children that I could put my love into and you can’t even give me that?!”

Jason relents. He has pride and he wants to hold onto it and…well, it’s uncomfortable. It feels nice, physically, but he can’t focus on the pleasure when his skin is crawling, his stomach churning.

She’s gorgeous. Beautiful, really. He knew that. He doesn’t understand why his body doesn’t.

She doesn’t make him do it again for a while. Waits a few weeks but when there’s no positive test, she asks him to try again.

It takes four tries before she falls pregnant, and Jason is relieved. She’s gotten her baby. She doesn’t need him for anything more than a paycheck and a father now. She seems happy with that; he’s come to realise she never loved him. It explained the quick engagement. He had been swept up in his desire for a girlfriend, a wife who he’d come home to and kiss on the cheek and maybe watch a movie with that he never considered that maybe she didn’t want that too.

It feels like a break up, Jason thinks. He’s only been through one before with his highschool sweetheart, Chrissy.

Jason wonders if maybe he’s gay. It’s a thought that makes his gut clench and his throat tighten up. Hell, he even tries to watch some stuff. It does little to nothing for him. He stares hours at his screen, switching between pornos, straight and gay and even lesbian, but nothing strikes him as appealing. He half-considers the videos where men would pet their kneeling boys, interested in the gentle flushes it would induce, but it didn’t stir anything that made his dick hard. It just made his heart race, really, the intimacy of it.

He decides he’s not gay. Just…fundamentally broken. Or maybe he had been born for priesthood, celibate for life. Fuck, that sounded like a good life to him.

So he does it. He joins the priesthood. He’s married, sure, but it’s an easy excuse to why he can’t sleep with her anymore. He’s devoted to this way of life, he told her. To God. And he was. He had grown up looking towards the sky.

After a year, she divorces him. It’s hard, and rocky, but she finds a new man within two years who she actually does love.

He gets a son anyway, Joseph, even if he only sees him three days out of the week and he’s unable to stay the night most days because his mother is clingy regarding her baby. The few times he does get his boy for the night, he curls the five year old into his chest and reads him storybooks until he nods off, all chubby cheeks and tousled blond hair like his father.

He hopes he never grows up. Never gets bigger. Because one day he won’t want to share a bed with his father, be held by him, or even visit because he had his stepdad in the picture and his ex-wife has snippy comments on her tongue about him at the ready always.

But he gets older. Of course he does. Joseph is thirteen when he begs Jason to take him to see a metal band.

“I know, ‘it’s the devils music’, but they’re really good, Dad. Can’t you just do this for me, for once? Mom won’t let me go without an adult and she refuses to go with me. Or let David.” His stepdad. Joseph scowls as he spits the name. David isn’t all that bad, but he refuses to argue with his wife, and it gets on the boys nerves. Jason’s also aware there’s a bit of favouritism when it came to Joseph and their other two kids, Lauren and Peter.

Jason can’t say no. Not when his son is obviously being slighted instead of just being told no by his mother. She could be a real petty woman at times. What did Jason ever see in her?

“Fine.”

“Yes! Thank you, dad!” Joseph is buzzing the rest of the week, even offering to pay for his fathers ticket out of his saved up pocket money since Jason hadn’t been keen, but like hell was he taking his kids money.

“Keep it, ‘Seph. Buy yourself a shirt or something from the concert instead, okay?” Jason ignores that it’s a petty move on his end too. He knows his ex-wife will chuck a fit at their son wearing heavy metal merch, but the idea delights Jason. The satisfaction would be better than sex by tenfold. He would know.

Jason almost regrets coming when he sees the crowd. They’re all draped in black with wildly coloured hair and he feels like a sore thumb with his baby blue polo and white cardigan tied around his shoulders, blond hair swept back. He also feels a tad old for the crowd, but he sees a few men and women much older than him, so at least he knew he wasn’t the only grown up.

God. A priest at a heavy metal concert. What a scenario.

“Dad, dad, they’re coming on stage, oh my god.” Joseph is jumping on his toes, trying to see over the crowd and Jason, who never dropped his strict regime, figured he could chance one evening of carrying a barely teen on his shoulders. Joseph almost falls at first and laughs when Jason clamps down his hands. He’s heavier than he used to be and it makes Jason’s heart (and shoulders) ache.

He squinted over the heads to look at the stage and found himself feeling a strange sense of familiarity as a shaggy dark haired man in black and chains walked onto stage, taking the microphone in hand.

“How’re my undead fans going? You all still alive?” The crowd roared, including Joseph, and it made Jason wince at the volume. The leads voice is nice though, low and just a tad rough around the edges. “Any newbies in the crowd? First show with us?” Joseph cheered along with a few others and the lead laughed.

He pointed at Joseph, the easiest one to spot with his blond hair and elevated height.

“Good to see some fresh faces. Little white sheep here needs a shirt, seriously, you look like you’re about to puke from excitement, kid.”

“I love you, Eddie Munson!” Joseph screamed and Jason’s eyes widened in shock, jaw going slack. He almost dropped Joseph before gripping tighter.

Prays be to God.

Eddie cackled, almost falling with how low he leant back. He swung back up with a weird grace to him, hair swinging forward with the force. He stomped towards the edge and pointed harder at him.

“You — you, kid, you buy a shirt and I’ll fuckin’ sign it, you got spirit, squirt!” He spun around, still laughing as he grabbed the microphone stand. He looked over his shoulder after a moment with wide eyes. “Apologises to the parental figure. But coarse language is advised.” He grinned and grabbed his guitar with flourish, tossing the strap over his head.

“Enough talk, let’s fuckin’ let loose.” The lights shut off with a scream from fans before red bled onto the stage, fog curling around Eddie’s shadowed figure, three more figures making themselves known behind instruments.

“Let’s knock open our Coffin, boys.” The purr rumbles through the speakers, followed by a low vibrating note that makes Jason’s breath hitch and hair stand on end.

The concert is a blur. Jason had taken a few songs to get used to the volume, but he couldn’t lie. They were good. With the crowd, with their instruments — Eddie’s voice could go from warm honey to gruff, animalistic almost, within moments. It was an experience, that was for sure.

“I have to get a shirt, dad. He said he’d sign it. You think he really will?” Joseph is shaking all over and Jason is only mildly concerned. He’s pretty sure he’s shaking too, but it’s in a good way?

“I’m sure he will.” Jason decides he should probably avoid going backstage with his son. Eddie and him hadn’t been…friendly. Less than. Jason had thought Eddie annoying as all hell and he’s pretty sure Eddie hated his guts.

Unfortunately, Joseph’s too young to go backstage alone according to the bodyguard.

“Please, dad? It’ll only be a few minutes, I promise, this is a once in a life time. I’ll never ask for anything ever again!” He begs and Jason had already folded to his whims when he said please.

Seeing Eddie up close is staggering. Makes his heart stop and start and sputter like an old car. When Eddie looks at him, he knows he’s put a name to the face in moments.

“Carver?”

Joseph’s eyes widen as he looks between Eddie and his father.

“Munson.” He greets back. Joseph’s mouth fell open in shock.

“You know Eddie Munson, dad?” There’s stars in his sons eyes and Jason wants to kick his younger self in the rear for being a dick to Eddie because now his son is going to reap what he sowed in his youth.

“I…We went to school together.” He thinned his lips and Eddie was watching him intensely. It made his cheeks hot. He had never been able to hide his embarrassment or shame with how pale he was.

“You haven’t changed.” Eddie remarked, eyeing his outfit with a smirk. Jason bristled at his words.

“And I see you’re still a—“ A scowl was growing but it fell apart when his son spoke.

“You were friends with Eddie Munson, dad?! Oh my god, I can’t believe this, this is the best day of my life! My boring priest dad was friends with a rockstar!” Joseph’s voice cracked, squeaky like every boy starting puberty. Jason’s heart plummeted. Anxiety swirled in his gut as he realised he was about to disappoint his only child, opening his lips to refute his claim.

“Oh, yeah, totally, little dude.” Eddie interjects, grinning. “We go wayyyy back. Best friends, really.” It was a bold faced lie and even his band mates seemed to agree it was a total farce from the looks on their faces, ranging from bewilderment to eye rolling exhaustion.

“Why did you stop being friends then?” Joseph frowned.

“I got busy with my career, obviously!” Eddie gestured to their surroundings. “I didn’t have a lot of time to phone and catch up. Totally my bad, really.” Holy shit, he was really going the full mile on this one. Jason wasn’t sure whether to applaud him or not.

Joseph elbowed his fathers side and looked at him expectantly.

“Maybe you should get back in contact so you have some actual friends. Ones that are cool.” He barely whispered it and Jason’s ears burned.

“I have friends. Everybody at church is my friend, Joseph.” He snipped out between clenched teeth, glaring at his son who scoffed. When had he become such a snarky kid? He used to be so sweet.

“That doesn’t count.”

“I’m too busy, Joseph.”

“You don’t even do anything when I don’t visit—“

“I do so—“

“Yeah but not like, a lot—“

“Hey, quit punching your old man while he’s down. You should know better.” Eddie laughed, pinching at the blond boys Corroded Coffin tee that he had thrown on over the top of his other shirt. “Come here, let me sign this thing. I’ll even add in a Polaroid you can frame.” He winked and Joseph’s eyes sparkled.

“Please!”

“So he has manners when he wants something.” Jason muttered. Eddie grinned and pulled Joseph closer, signing the shirt with his name. He called over his bodyguard to take a photo. Jason stood off to the side awkwardly, waiting to leave.

“C’mon, you too, old pal.” Eddie pulls him in last second and Jason’s pretty sure his wide eyes will be immortalised on his sons dresser, along with the blonds mused fringe flipped up against Eddie’s frizzy dark locks. He looks ridiculous, he bemoans to himself as each member autographs the Polaroid.

“Okay, come on, we have to head home now or your mother will throw a fit.” Jason ushers Joseph to say his goodbyes.

“Tell your wife I said hi, Carver.” Eddie drolls on his way out and Jason huffs.

“She’s not my wife.” And he was glad for it.

Just as they made for the door, Jason felt a hand on his wrist. He jumps and nearly trips over his own damn feet when Eddie tugs his arms around to expose his forearm, squiggling down several digits with his tongue peeking out between his lips, concentrated.

Jason tugged his arm away with his heartbeat in his ears when Eddie caught his eye, grinning.

“Call me sometime. You know. To catch up.” He winked and Jason was thrown for a moment at the gesture.

“Uh…sure.” He cleared his throat and left quickly with Joseph who was gushing about the fact that his father had Eddie Munson’s phone number.

Jason doesn’t intend to call it. So he doesn’t. It’s two weeks later and he’s happy to forget all about the meeting when a familiar face walks right through his church doors.

“What’re you doing here?” He hissed quietly, making his way down the aisle. It was after his service, so there wasn’t anybody except Thomson, who always stayed an extra hour to pray alone. His wife was going through a hard battle with cancer, so Jason never disturbed him. Sometimes, he’d even pray with him, or before bed, he’d pray on his behalf.

“Checking if I burn when I enter holy ground.” Eddie mimicked his whisper, a crooked grin on his lips and hands stuffed in the pockets of his tight black pants. “Seems I’m still safe after fifteen years.”

“How did you even know this was my church?” Jason looked back towards Thomson and huffed, leading Eddie back out of the door and closing it behind them. He wasn’t going to disturb the poor man. “Are you stalking me or something?”

“Your son told me.” Eddie shrugged and Jason blinked a few times.

“How did my son tell you?”

“You didn’t use my number, but he sure did.” Eddie smirked and Jason’s face burned with realisation. Joseph must have memorised the number on his forearm. That sneaky brat.

“I’m so sorry.” He sighed. “He’s a good kid but he’s nosy at the worst times. Gets it from his mother. I’m sure you have plenty of things to be doing instead of entertaining a thirteen year old.”

Eddie snorted.

“Kid worships the ground I walk on. I’m happy to entertain him.” There was a long pause between them, and Jason hated how cool Eddie seemed with it. Jason could never stand the quiet.

“I’m…also sorry about high school.” He forced the words past his lips. He was, to a degree, sorry. He had been a douchebag. His years in service had humbled him greatly, especially with how many folks he met from different walks of life. Becoming a priest had made him reevaluate a lot about himself.

Eddie was still a prick though. He had antagonised Jason just as much back then, even if Jason had had the popularity to back him unlike Eddie.

“Honestly? Me too. We were stupid, teenage dicks.” Eddie conceded and Jason rolled his eyes.

“You were a freak though.”

“And you were a preppy shitstain jock.”

They stared at each other, and after a long silence, Jason’s lip quirked up.

“Forgive and forget?”

“Something tells me if I don’t say yes now, I’ll have to say a dozen Hail Mary’s instead later.”

“Only half a dozen. I can be nice.” Jason shrugged and Eddie cackled, head thrown back.

“God, Carver, man, I never thought this would be how we met again. A priest. I mean, it makes sense, you bible thumper.” He teased, trying to hook a finger under the white band of his collar. Jason smacked his hand away with a huff.

“My church is about sharing Gods teachings and Jesus’ love with people who want it. I wouldn’t call myself a bible thumper. That implies I’m out rallying against gay marriage and abortions in my free time. I don’t care what folks outside my church do. I learnt that early on.”

“Oh wow. You’re all ‘love thy neighbour’, huh?” Eddie seemed genuinely surprised. “Not gonna stone a whore in the front yard?”

“Gosh no!” Jason put a hand to chest, appalled. “If she finds pleasure in flesh, good for her, but I will pass. And perhaps advise her to be safe. And evaluate why she prefers one night stands to a healthy, long term relationship with an active partner and plentiful sex.” He crossed his arms with a shrug of his shoulders and brows.

Eddie laughed. Full belly laughed, bent at the knees and wheezing a little.

“Oh my god! You’re literally — full one-eighty! You’re a whole new guy! This is…god, this is kind of hilarious.”

“You didn’t change, from what I’m seeing.” Jason mused. Eddie grinned.

“Nah. I mean, I grew up, had to to be in the biz long term, but I’m still everybody’s favourite freak.” He joked with a good-natured shrug.

“And now you’re standing outside my church.”

“The kid is convinced we have to reconnect. Be friends again.” Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m a sucker for kids, man. Can’t disappoint them.”

“Do you have any?”

“Nah. I mean — I could have.” Eddie admitted shyly. “Didn’t work out. Got too wrapped up in my career, couldn’t settle. And groupies, try as they might to convince you I hooked up with them, and knocked them up; I didn’t.”

“Why not?” Jason quirked a brow. “Isn’t that the big things with rockstars? Drugs, music and women?”

Eddie barked a laugh.

“Drugs? Some hard stuff in my youth. Some weed when I need to mellow out during a writing sesh. Music? Ear-aching amount. But I’m proud of it. As for women…” He leaned in closer, voice low as he spoke. “Not really my type.” He pulled back with thin lips and Jason’s heart thumped harder in his chest, his collar feeling too tight.

“I told you. I don’t judge people. Only the Creator can.” He looked up at the clear blue sky. “And he doesn’t make mistakes.” He assured softly and Eddie smiled. “So…you’re gay.”

“Not exactly.” Eddie shrugged, looking a bit shy. “Not really interested in anybody. Not in that way.”

Jason frowned.

“Is that why you aren’t married?” Despite his many rings, Eddie’s left ring finger was bare. “You don’t…can’t love anyone?”

“I do. I can.” Eddie affirmed. “Just, uh, not interested in showing it through…physical means.”

It clicked in Jason’s head then. His eyes widened, lips parted in surprise.

“I see.”

“Must suck. Being a priest. Celibacy and all.” Eddie suddenly said, shifting his stance to something faux-casual. Trying to move the subject off himself and his lack of desire.

“Not really. It’s why I went into it.” Jason admitted, Eddie’s confession making him feel brazen.

“You went into priesthood for…the abstinence?” Eddie frowned, squinting in confusion.

“Well, I had faith, and I was in a marriage I was unhappy in. She had the child she wanted. It seemed like a good option at the time. I’m glad I did it, actually.”

“Wait, just let me— are you…” Eddie gestured vaguely and Jason smirked.

“I’m not gay. I’m not really straight either. I…don’t desire sex. At all.”

“You have a son.” Eddie reminded, like Jason didn’t know.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but…I’m glad I had him, even if I wasn’t comfortable making him.” Jason truly meant that. Joseph was his pride and joy.

“So you’re asexual too?”

“Asexual?” Jason frowned. “Like a plant?”

“No, you, uh…you’re not attracted to anyone. Physically.”

“No.” Jason’s brows furrowed. “There’s a word for that?”

“Yeah.” Eddie chuckled. “There’s a lot of words for a lot of things. I am curious though; do you like anybody romantically?”

Jason thought about it. He had thought he loved his ex-wife. He knew he had loved Chrissy before they spilt. He had had plenty of crushes as a kid and even in his years as a priest, he had pined for two women, and a man for a brief time.

“My heart doesn’t discriminate.” He decided with a soft blush. Eddie grinned.

“I feel you there.”

They stared at each other a long moment and Jason’s heart only raced faster, all too aware of it. Eddie offered him a dazzling smile. The show stopping kind.

“Maybe we should hang out. Properly. I’m pretty sure the little dude is already bragging to all his friends about his uber cool dad anyway.”

“I’m only ‘uber cool’ dad when you’re mentioned.” Jason clicked his tongue. Eddie smirked.

“Obviously. I’m the uber cool part, you’re the dad.”

Jason rolled his eyes with a shake of his head, trying to hide his smile. He was doing a poor job of it.

It took him thirty five years to realise he was asexual, but it took him thirty six to realise he was in love with Eddie Munson.

Go figure. The Lord really did work in mysterious ways, huh?

#eddie munson #jason carver #asexual jason carver #asexual eddie munson #munver #TigerFreak #carson #priest Jason carver #rockstar eddie munson #Joseph Carver

143 notes · View notes

from-a-reckless-writer · 4 years ago

Text

dove down my rabbit hole of wips and one of my wips isnt a wip anymore! so here, have some gay shit....

“Kelly wants to get married in the woods, I want to get married in Midvale. So, apparently, our wedding will just happen via Zoom. Her in the woods, me at the beach. Ain’t that just fucking grand?”

Alex comes through the door like a hurricane covered in leather. Her helmet lands on Kara’s counter loudly. Her keys haphazardly thrown somewhere in the general direction of the bowl by the door.

“Then have two weddings.”

Alex follows the voice and her eyes zero in on her sister’s best friend.

Lena is sitting on the floor of Kara’s apartment, wearing an oversized sweater. Her dark hair spilling down her shoulders softly. A hand wrapping around a wine glass, the other typing on her laptop, not even jumping in the slightest at the commotion that is Alex’s entrance.

Alex plops down on the couch sighing loudly, not even batting an eye at this utterly domestic scene that is her sister washing the dishes with Lena Luthor on the floor of her apartment.

Lena doesn’t comment at the Danvers’ Sisters antics and Alex doesn’t call them out on the ridiculousness that Lena and Kara are still keen on keeping up.

The three of them already well desensitized to one another’s preferred brand of bullshitery.

“You know, sometimes I forget you're a rich-ass bitch and then you say shit like that and suddenly, I remember,” Alex says, smoothly snatching the wine from Lena’s hand.

She finishes the entire glass in one gulp and Lena rolls her eyes. Alex had finally proposed to Kelly the other week and well, that meant this week all of them had fallen victim to the Olsen-Danvers wedding debacle. It seems today isn’t the day that that whole dilemma is going to stop.

The wedding, of course, was still a few months away, but both parties were stressing about it as if it was going to happen immediately the next day.

Kara swoops in then, mussing up Alex’s hair, earning her an annoyed Hey stop it! before putting down another wine glass and pouring for Lena. Her arms are still wet from washing the dishes.

Lena murmurs her thanks and continues what she was saying, “Well, since you’ve finally remembered that I’m a billionaire. Let me pay for two weddings.”

Alex chokes on the wine.

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

Lena continues typing, ignoring Alex’s shock, you’d think she didn’t just offer to pay for a wedding.

“Well, I mean, I’m never gonna get married,” Lena explains, “but if you let me do this, I can brag around that I’ve paid for two weddings. Not to mention I’m gonna make two brides very, very happy.”

“Or,” Kara interjects, lowering herself on the opposite side of the couch, perfect for Lena to lean back between Kara’s legs and lay her head on the side of her thigh. “You can just wait for Kelly to get here,” Kara says, pointedly. “Talk it out like normal adults and reach a compromise.”

Kara’s hands start to snake their way from Lena’s hair to Lena’s shoulders, massaging, all too aware that Lena won’t stop whatever it is she’s working on on her laptop till everybody gets here.

Lena lets herself melt and closes her eyes, sighing as Kara’s fingers dip at the junction of her neck and shoulder with just the right amount of pressure.

“I don’t wanna get married in the woods, Kara.”

Lena opens one eye to take a peek at Alex, who looks exasperated, her eyes pleading, gulping down another glass of wine.

“Don’t tell me,” Kara replies. “Tell Kelly.”

“The bugs, Kara,” Alex moans. “Imagine the bugs, and the moss and the ughhh.”

She dramatically thumps the back of her head on the couch.

“Imagine the soil. Clumpy wet soil. Eurgh. Ew. What if I fall face first in that? What if I trip over a stupid tree root in my heels? In my wedding dress?!”

“Alex, you don’t even have a dress yet,” Kara deadpans.

“I thought you were gonna wear a suit,” Lena adds.

“You two suck.” Alex pouts.

****

The rest of their friends arrive and Kara finally succeeds in prying Lena’s work laptop away from her. Alex was already teasing the line from tipsy to drunk by the time Kelly comes through the door.

“Let’s get married in Vegas!!!!” Is how Alex decides to greet her fiance.

Kelly laughs, gives her a peck then answers, “As much as that sounds like a very convenient wedding, I don’t think Eliza would appreciate that, baby.”

Alex frowns at being rejected, sags against the couch and crosses her arms. Why does Kelly always have to be right?

“How much has she had to drink?” Kelly turns to Kara.

“Uhh ask Lena. She made her switch to whiskey.”

Lena—who Kelly thinks was way too busy nuzzling against Kara’s neck to even answer her question—mumbles something that sounds like “S’was just two glasses.”

Kelly just shakes her head, makes Alex drink a glass of water. Her ring making a clink against the glass.

“Alright, what if,” Nia sing-songs, eyes sparkling with mischief, “we just settle this whole wedding thing with Charades?”

Nia claps her hands together like some gameshow host and Kelly takes a deep breath through the nose.

She’s been to enough Game Nights to know where this is headed.

Everybody else was intoxicated enough to accept the suggestion as a grand idea, not at all even thinking that: Hey, isn’t this something we should all take seriously?? Maybe ask the brides what they want, maybe???

Kara nods enthusiastically, agreeing immediately, “Oh!! That’s a great idea! Fun and fair at the same time!”

“Olsen vs. Danvers. Brides get to pick their teams.”

Nia pulls a white board out of nowhere, uncaps a marker and writes “Team Danvers”, “Team Olsen” separated by a neat line in the middle.

“Are we really letting Nia take charge of our wedding venue?" She hears Alex whisper from where she has her tucked at the crook of her neck.

Kelly sneaks a glance at the chaos happening before their eyes; Brainy already claiming to be on Kelly’s team, J’onn shaking his head opting to be the game scorer instead and refusing to participate, somebody’s shouting about: NIA, DREAM PROJECTIONS AT CHARADES IS CHEATING!!!!

Guess this is their life now.

Kelly smirks, boops Alex on the nose and says, “Scared you’ll lose, Danvers?”

****

Alex loses by three points.

“How was I supposed to know you were gesturing 'Transformers'!?!” She barks at Kara, throwing her hands in exasperation.

“I pointed at Nia!” Kara huffs, incredulous at the fact that her sister is blaming her.

Nia lost them a point too!

“What does Nia even have to do with it???” Alex’s voice grows higher in pitch. Her brows furrow in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“Trans, Alex. Trans.”

“Oh my God,” Alex groans. “How are you this dumb?”

And that was the story of how Kelly got her dream wedding.

****

The frenzy finally dies down, some time between Nia making up another drinking game and J’onn making her sit back down. A movie that none of them were watching provides a background noise to the almost lazy atmosphere. Kelly and Alex were pressed close on the far end of the couch, enjoying the temporary quiet.

“Guess we’re getting married in the woods, huh?” Alex murmurs.

“I guess we are,” Kelly whispers back. Alex beams at her, grinning dopily at the thought of finally getting the ending they deserve. It would be the perfect day, she has no doubt about that. No matter where they are. It would be perfect because they got there together.

Alex can’t wait.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing.”

Alex continues to smile stupidly, nudges her nose to Kelly’s.

“Just— I don’t really care where we get married, I guess.”

“Oh yeah?” Kelly raises an amused brow at her.

“Mm-hm. So long as you’re the one walking down the aisle.”

Alex presses their lips together, breathes Kelly in deep and for the first time that night, she feels that the future isn’t so scary, even though there is still a very large possibility that she might trip over a tree root on her wedding day.

Somebody interrupts their kiss.

“She’s only saying that ‘cos she lost.”

“Shut up, Luthor.”

****

“Text me when you get home!”

Lena hears Kara call loudly after her sister, before closing the door. Game Night has officially ended and as usual she’s still here. She’ll always be here, she thinks for a brief moment. The thought holding more depth than it should.

Kara didn’t even question her when everybody began filing out and Lena just started picking up the discarded dirty plates and walking them to the sink. They’re well past the point of asking each other if the other would stay over.

It was already some unspoken rule.

Already well past the point of Lena wanting to ask Kara what the hell it is they’re doing.

She’s bent over the sink, scrubbing—Kara doesn’t own a dishwasher for the sole reason that she finds doing the dishes therapeutic—when Lena takes a glance over her shoulder.

Kara is sitting on a high stool near the counter, casually flicking through her phone. It was Lena’s turn to do the dishes tonight. Once upon a time her doing the dishes would have resulted in a fight. “I can superspeed the dishes. Why would you even want to do them?” A statement that would be met with an eye roll.

Kara has learned not to fight her on it again, after around the 7th time that Lena had stubbornly insisted and Supergirl got doused with dishwashing liquid.

And now, it’s become some sort of routine, Kara does the dishes after lunch and Lena does the dishes after dinner. Oh, how the paparazzi would kill for this—Lena Luthor Knows What A Sponge Is?

“Is it true when you told Alex you’re never going to get married?”

Kara decides to break their quiet.

“Yeah, pretty certain about that one, why?” Lena turns around, cocks a curious brow. If she’s being honest she’s beyond certain that she’s not going to get married. She always jokes about how she’s married to L-Corp but it isn’t till now that she realizes how true that is, and...how lonely.

“I don’t know,” Kara murmurs, not meeting Lena’s eyes. “I just like the idea of you getting married, I guess.”

“What?” Lena chuckles at that; genuinely confused but still curious.

“Well, I mean—” Kara wobbles through her words.

“I guess, I just— I like the idea of you walking down the aisle...in a white dress,” Kara muses.

Then, “Or a suit!!” she quickly amends. “If you wanna wear a suit, that is. That can totally be arranged, you know?” Kara waves her hand around and it’s like now that she’s started, she can’t stop.

And Lena’s just standing there, water still dripping from her elbow, unsure of how to feel about Kara imagining her getting married. Quite an incredulous scene isn’t it? Her getting married? What a crazy thing to say, an even crazier scenario to imagine!

She snaps out of it, realizing Kara’s still rambling.

“I have no objections whatsoever with that, if you wanna wear a suit. And yeah, you know? I just— I like that idea. I like the idea of you dancing to your wedding song. The idea of you exchanging your vows, the idea of you-”

“Kara,” Lena decides to put a stop to it, since it’s clearly evident Kara won’t be stopping any time soon. And Lena's feeling way too many things that she doesn’t want to feel at the moment. She’s sure that she’s going to feel more, if she doesn’t put a stop to it herself.

“I’m well aware that it’s the best friend’s job to help with the bride’s wedding,” She says, “but, darling don’t you think you’re putting just a bit too much effort into this? Certainly seems like you’ve thought about it a lot.”

At that, Kara’s cheeks turn a light pink, squirming sheepishly under Lena’s questioning gaze.

Shouldn’t Kara be thinking about her own wedding? How beautiful she would look walking down the aisle. How her blonde hair would look so nicely with her dress. How happy she would finally be after finding someone she could share her life with. Not that Lena's been thinking about those kinds of things. No, of course not. That’d be hypocritical of her at this point. Why would she even— Why were they even talking about this again???

Lena tries to rein in it, tries to focus on Kara again; hands finally finding a dry towel, hesitantly walking into Kara’s space to hear the blonde more clearly.

“Well, I mean- Like I said, I do really like the idea of you getting married,” Kara repeats herself slowly.

And before Lena can come any closer, “Like the idea of you getting married…to me. More specifically,” Kara adds more quietly.

“What?”

Lena stands frozen.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard y- Kara, did you just?”

Lena’s heart is pounding away in her chest. Did she hear her right? Did Kara really just—

Lena’s a step away from her and Kara uses this to her advantage. She pulls Lena closer, tugging at her wrist, the towel dropping from Lena’s hands. Kara summons enough willpower to stare into Lena’s eyes.

“I like the idea of you getting married to me, Lena Luthor.”

“Kara, I’m sorry- What?” Lena jerks away from her, the words finally landing.

“Is that a no?”

Kara lets her go. She can’t focus on Lena’s heartbeat to assess the situation more. Kara’s own heart is betraying her, drumming so loudly in her ears.

“Uh- no, that's definitely not a no?” says Lena hesitantly, eyes wide, breathing nervously. She turns away from Kara for a minute to take a breath, hands fidgeting about.

She whirls around again to face, mutters, “You do realize marriages are for people who are—”

She pauses.

How do you exactly phrase that wedding proposals are for people who are actually in some kind of romantic relationship? And not for people who casually stay over every goddamn Thursday without fail?And okay, maybe sometimes, in a much different reality, would willingly commit fratricide to save the other? And in an also much different reality, willingly expose a secret identity to save the other?

Lena can’t find the right words.

“Oh, I don’t know, Kara,” Lena scoffs, shaking her head disbelievingly. “Marriage is for people who are actually dating each other.”

Kara takes her sarcasm as a good sign and pulls her in again.

“Well,” Kara begins. She can hear Lena’s heart thumping erratically, now that Kara’s gotten her bearings.

“We can always have our first date after the wedding, right?”

Aren’t they well past the point of dating anyway?

She’s got Lena standing between her legs now, her hands wrapping around her waist.

“First date and honeymoon all in one. That sounds great, doesn’t it? I can fly you wherever you want, Paris, Maldives, hell I even have a Fortress in the Arctic, if you’re into that.”

Lena stares at her, blinks once, twice; shakes her head and lets out a noise between a laugh and a scoff.

“Kara Zor-El, you are one ridiculous woman,” She breathes, putting a hand on Kara’s cheek. Because what else is there to say? This whole conversation really is ridiculous. But at the same time Lena feels like she’s floating? Like this may be the best moment of her life, and of course, it’s going to be ridiculous. This is Kara she’s dealing with, after all.

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do if Kara reveals this to be just some sort of joke.

But the way her blue eyes are piercing through Lena’s, so earnest and so warm, argues otherwise.

“So, what do you say? Wanna get married?”

“Are you serious right now?” Lena asks, still unbelieving. This is beyond crazy. They’ve fought aliens and monsters and traveled through time but this? This is just beyond crazy.

“Lena, do I look like I’m joking? And besides, you’d already offered to pay for two weddings, why not pay for our two weddings, instead?”

She shakes her head again, let’s herself fall closer to Kara, lets out a laugh against her neck.

“Mm. You want a Kryptonian ceremony too?”

“Yeah.” Kara’s voice turns shy. “If that’s alright by you.”

“Of course, that’s alright by me. I’d be honored.”

Her heart feels more than full at the thought of Kara wanting to share that part of her with Lena. She’s always had some doubts whenever the topic of Kara’s Kryptonian heritage arises, always half-afraid she’s overstepped on something that isn’t hers.

But looks like there was nothing to fear all along.

“So, we’re getting married, huh?” Kara wiggles her brows, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“Yes. Mm-hm,” Lena hums against her. “I do. I’d marry you. Let’s get married.”

“Seal it with a kiss?"

****

“Hi.”

Lena blearily opens her eyes, follows the soft voice, her bare back being caressed by the sun filtering through Kara’s curtains.

“Hi,” She whispers back. All this feels much too like a fever dream. She’s half-tempted to pinch herself just to check. She’s woken up beside Kara a million times before but she’ll never get used to the sight of soft golden hair and sleepy blue eyes.

Kara gives her a soft peck and the feel of her lips sends Lena reeling.

The previous night was a whirlwind in her mind’s eye. The moment Lena murmured her 'Yes, please.', Kara kissed her passionately. Once they broke away, Kara had zipped around the apartment, Lena too dazed to even ask what it was Kara was looking for.

She watched as Kara tore off a keychain from one of her bags, curled the keyring to fit Lena’s finger and whispered, “This’ll do. For now.”

Kara had kissed her knuckles reverently, her lips making Lena’s blood sing in her veins. The feel of mangled metal fitted just for her left hand is an imprint on her soul. A promise of more to come.

They didn’t make it out of the kitchen the first time. Kara had lifted her by the waist and set her down on the kitchen counter. Which was a good thing, because Lena couldn’t feel her legs after.

They didn’t make it to the bedroom the second time either. She had tackled Kara onto the couch, pinning her wrists together, licking at the shell of Kara’s ear. “My turn now,” Lena had whispered. The way Kara shivered underneath her was enough of a reward. How long had they been waiting for this?

Flashes of last night had her hips bucking slightly unto Kara’s leg sandwiched between her own, but before it could escalate further...

“I have exciting news to share,” Kara tells her.

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kara hums, now nosing at Lena’s hair.

“What is it?” Lena asks.

“I’m getting married.”

“Oh you are?” Lena plays along.

“Yes. I’m getting married to my best friend,” whispers Kara, almost conspiratorially. “How cool is that?”

Kara looks giddy with excitement and Lena knows she’s mirroring that exact same expression right now.

“Mm. Very cool, darling.”

Kara giggles and they trade more lazy kisses before Lena breaks away to breathe.

“Quite a coincidence though,” Lena husks out against Kara’s lips.

“Oh really? Why?” Kara asks, tries to keep a serious neutral face despite her nose scrunching up in that cute smile that Lena can’t resist

“I’m also getting married,” Lena confides, “To my best friend," she adds, eyes flashing. "Isn’t that great?”

“Very great.” Kara nods slowly, blonde hair falling into her face, a hand running through dark tresses.

“I love you,” Lena whispers, her lips brushing Kara’s softly.

“I love you, too.” Kara kisses her harder then, her hands lazily wandering along Lena’s skin.

They lie there quietly for a few moments, basking in the morning glow and then, “Alex will kill us.”

Lena snorts, twists in the sheets and says, “I think your sister is too busy planning her wedding to even think about plotting our murder.”

read follow-up here.

#im praying we get a dansen wedding u guys #anyways yeah this is something they would totally do right?#get married on a whim #if u see a typo no u didnt #oh and also im still working on the prompts u guys sent me so there's that #thats the majority of my wips cos im one slow writer #happy supercorp sunday lovely people #supercorp ficlet of sorts #the reckless writer writes #supercorp #rcklss writes

997 notes · View notes

natsukitakama · 4 years ago

Text

Headcanon : From friend to boyfriend

Author note : I’ve got nothing to say I’m fucking loser just enjoy it ♡ For my page setting I got the inspire from two blogs @/tokrev-roses and @/Tokyo-fukushu (go to see them they’re incredible they make such a wonderful jobs ♡ and if you guys saw it well I didn’t mention you because I didn’t want to bother you 👉🏻👈🏻) I didn’t know if it would work but I tried.

Warning : Swearing - mention of fight - child it might be dangerous to be a thug so don’t do it I guess ?

Masterlist

Manjiro Sano - 佐野 ( さの ) 万次郎

I can see him dating his childhood friend, I mean the man actually likes them protecting them ? He would even get extra attention if he is dating you so why don’t give it a shot ?

Obviously your relationship didn’t start like this (I mean not entirely)

You were living quite close to him I mean like on his neighborhood and one day you just saw him walking around probably getting back from school. A lollipop in his mouth, his hand behind his head the little boy was walking as if he was ruling the city (he might but you haven’t known yet), as a child you were kinda curious to know him since he seemed to be around your own age.

So you walked to start a conversation with him, as expected the little boy was pretty chill about everything so it was easy to talk with. You two talks about everything and anything at the same time until the little boy’s tummy was yelling for foods, laughing at his state you decided to buy him something since he was your very first friends.

After asking him what he wanted you moved into a Konbini

That you discover that his favourite was Taiyaki and Dorayki

You two started to hang on frequently (every day to be honest, each time he saw you leaving school he either ran into you or yelled to go home with him). People sorting to think that you two were in love with each other even though you both claimed that you were friends (even part of the same crew).

You even started to go into the same martial class as Baji, knowing it was his grandfather ruling everything, so you could spend more time with your new friends and get to know him more.

He never failed to amaze you, and took great pleasure of doing so many techniques just to see you getting all impressed.

He also enjoys seeing you working hard to do the same techniques he does previously

Two buddies.

That was your label for a long time until you started to notice your own reaction around him.

It was pretty silly at first. When he was too close to you, you felt your cheeks coloured in red. When he was smiling at you you couldn’t help but smile at him too, you discovered you were weak for his pouty face. Also whenever he was touching you (brushing his hand at yours or even touching like when he is taking your wrist to look at him so he would pout to have his precious Dorayaki he was craving for).

Honestly you just thought that you were starting to be a fan or something which was a little bit embarrassing.

But nothing to be worried about

Then, You’ve started to feel that it was maybe more than just a friendship or at least you were loving him more than you should.

You realized one day that you were in love with him, when he decided to kick your bullies’ ass without telling you. Like you once told him about those teenagers who were bullied you and that you’ll work even more harder so you could kick their ass. But it wasn’t on Mikey’s taste like all he heard was « Y/N is in danger I must protect them » and so did he. He walked into your school looking for those bastards.

Once he found them it was already over for them, he quickly kicked them off and as expected they weren’t as strong as they thought they were just in groups. What he didn’t expect, was you looking at him beating the shit out of your bullies.

The way he was beating each of them, how he was easily taking them down, the way he was fighting for you to protect you. It was the last thing you needed to fall deeply in love with him.

Even if he was still a little boy, his aura was quite something from behind (though he is quite small) he looked like an adult. A true leader.

You couldn’t think more about it because he turns in head into your direction raising his brow « what are you doing ? Let’s go I’m hungry y/n » he then smiled at you.

During your walk into the closest Konbini he was acting as if he didn’t previously fight against teenagers while still being well a little boy. You two were as usual talking about everything and anything until you found the shop, then he proceed to whine about not having money to buy Taiyaki or Dorayki.

Since you couldn’t refuse anything at him when he was all pouting you proceeded to buy his favourite foods

But being the young baby you were you didn’t understand that all the feelings you were feeling, how you cheeks tend to be red around him, how nervous you were when you walked together, how worried you were sometimes when you saw him his covering with some bloods (even though you knew it wasn’t his).

It took you one year to actually understand that you fell in love with him, and that you might screw your relationship because of that.

In fact when you finally aged up to go into junior high school, you started to have other friends than Mikey (it doesn’t mean you didn’t talk to him anymore quite the contrary). And those friends were particularly interested on one thing « crush ».

You’ve never heard about crush before, I mean you were aware of the attraction between two people but as a child you weren’t interested in him especially since your close friends (Mikey for exemple) didn’t give a damn about it, so you did the same.

Talking with those new friends made you realized that you had a crush on your best friends

Things started to get weird between you two

Cause whenever Mikey was around too and a little bit too close to you, you started to freak out afraid that he might discover your secret. So you tried your best to be a little bit distant with him

Which honestly broke his little heart, he kept wondering « why Y/N isn’t walking with me anymore ? » Why aren’t we sharing foods anymore »

It didn’t help that he started to really miss you, and was craving for well, attention from you

He never realized it but he was craving for your praise or approval. Like whenever you were sipping over him being so cool, he couldn’t help but to flex his chest with a smirk looking at Draken (as if he didn’t give a shit about your praise)

Also he was starting to feel a little bit nervous ? Everytime you were riding his bike and put your hand around his chest or waist for support he couldn’t help but feel nervous and relax at the same time.

One time when you were daydreaming as Mike was driving you home after school, you nuzzled your head on the crook on his neck. Smelling his smell, and his warmth you were starting to feel sleepy. You didn’t notice it, but when you put your head on his neck he started to shiver, his ears were a little bit red too, his heart was beating like hell.

He didn’t expect you to get so comfortable around him, but was he concerned ? Absolutely not, he even enjoyed it knowing you were so good with him

But then it happens, he started to dream about you. Every night he didn’t spend on thinking about his brother and what he could do to protect him, prevent his death, his night was decimated to you.

One time you two were driving together talking about everything, on other time you two were sharing some foods on the beach his hand around your waist as you were putting your head on his shoulder.

He even once dreamt about you two kissing, like you were on a picnic date together he did some funny face to make you laugh and just feel it. He wanted to kiss you, and being the blunt guy he is he just put his hand on your cheeks and then kiss you. To his surprise you hug him as one of your hand moved to his hair so you could kiss him more.

He woke up that night his face all read, his index on his lips (as if he could still taste your lips on his).

Those dreamt kept coming again and again

So he knew something was wrong so he talked to Draken who just looked at him as is he was dumbest man of the world « Mikey you’re just in love with Y/n »

What do you mean just in love ? He was the god damn leader of a gang, he was Mikey the invicible and yet he falls in love.

How he wishes his brother was still here to help him

Because he didn’t any idea how to handle this ?

The real issue according to Draken was to know if you were interest in such relationships especially since you two know each other since you were a child. They were a probability according to him that you weren’t interested on him but according to his sister Emma they were a high probability that you were in fact into him. She couldn’t prove it though.

It took him so many days until one day he had enough, he just wanted to talk about it so he could dream peacefully. No one knows about his « weird » dream and honestly he couldn’t take the risk of Draken knowing about it he wouldn’t see the end of it

So one day he just drives into your school and was waiting for you, to be sure that you won’t avoid him pretending of not seeing him. He parks right into of the gate and was making so noise with his bike. Everything so you would notice him.

Of course you saw him, and since he looked straight into your eyes, you knew you will go home with him (not that it bothers you quite contrary but it was starting to be more and more difficult to keep a straight face around him)

So you didn’t try to escape or anything afraid he might be sad or worst angry against you, and you moved behind him on his bike so he could drive you.

Much to your surprise, he wasn’t driving you home, in fact he was driving into that forest where he kissed you in his dream (something told him he must go here to succeed so). Which was starting to confuse you like where were you going ?

Knowing when he got something in mind you couldn’t fight you just decided to wait until he would park to confront him about it.

But again you couldn’t manage to say anything, as soon as he parked his bike he was already walking into that spot the one he saw in his dream to confess. So you had no choice but to follow him knowing you couldn’t get home until he decided so

When you two reached the spot Mikey was looking for, he finally turned into your direction looking right at you.

He looked very serious, he got that face you know ? The one he got when he was ruling a Toman’s meeting. You got Mikey the invisible in front of you, and even if you were used to see him leading you still were surprised (and a little bit scared) when you were confronting the leader and not your childhood friends.

Unconsciously you gulped which Mikey noticed and couldn’t help but chuckled a little bit

« You know it’s not funny to make fun of me Mikey »

« You’re just too tensed it’s funny »

« No it’s not *sigh* you’re just so serious right now what’s happening ? »

« Are you afraid of me y/n ? »

« Uh ? What are you talking about of course not »

« Then why are you avoiding me so much ? »

« I-I’m not I just »

« Don’t lie to me Y/N »

« I’m not I swear I’m not avoiding you Mikey I just got so many things in mind I-i’m sorry if I hurt you in anyway » (of course you couldn't just straightly tell him that you weren't seeing him as much as before because your heart decided to beat like a damn drummer each time you were closed to him)

« Well that’s good then »

« Good ? »

« Yeah I couldn’t scare the person I love it wouldn’t make sense »

« (…) Wait what ? »

Your heart was beating so hard against your chest, you’re face was all read you didn’t even notice you high-pitched voice.

All you notice was Mikey holding his stomach with both of his hands, laughing so loudly tears rolling on his chest, his smile was so big.

Damn, I wish I could see him more like this was all you could think at that moment

When he finally calmed himself he just looked at you smiling and proceed to repeat himself « You hear me y/n I’m in love with you »

Before you could even realized, you ran into his chest holding him for dear life. As Mikey didn’t expect you to literally jump into his arm he couldn’t managed to catch and to keep his balance at the same time, so you just ended up laying on the floor, you on the top of him. He didn’t mind though, having you close to him relax him more than he could realize.

As you were mumbling something against his chest, he didn’t have any choice but to stand up a little bit while holding you so you two could be face to face. He then asks you to repeat yourself so he could hear you two.

« I love you too Mikey »

« *chuckle* Guess we’re dating each other now »

He didn’t kiss you that but he promised himself to do things like his dream, he wasn’t worried anymore he got you by his side.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanon #tokyo revengers x reader #Mikey x reader #Mikey tokyo x reader #Manjiro Sano x reader #Manjiro sano #Manjiro Mikey Sano #sano manjiro #sano manjiro x reader #sano Headcanon #Mikey headcanon #tokyo revengers Mikey #Mikey #tokyo revengers manjiro sano #Mikey tokyo revengers

537 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 4 years ago

Text

Anakin and the Jedi Babies: Names and Faces

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

Word Count: 6,477

---------------

It goes like this:

Nobody wants to separate Anakin from the children in his care until they know more about why he’s here. The gamble paid off, to some degree, and he thanks the Force that it did.

He hasn’t felt that cold in years.

He knows the logic of why the Mandalorians he’s fallen in with aren’t doing anything yet. He’s an obvious Jedi, and they don’t know why he’s here or what he’s doing. Hedging on the Mando’a and the cultural obligation to childcare hadn’t been anything close to sure, but it was... enough. He got lucky that these Mandalorians leaned on those obligations, at least to the point of keeping them all in the same room. He can sense that much, even before he opens his eyes, and he has to be grateful.

The looming hypothermia had probably nudged things in his favor.

Anakin opens his eyes to a guest room of a cell, something well-furnished and cozy, but definitely not meant to be something he can escape from. His saber is gone, and there are Force-nullifying cuffs on his wrists, and he’s pretty sure they’ve taken his--yep, vibroblade’s gone.

Fuck.

His body doesn’t want to move, and he’s still shivering a bit, but he’s mostly back to normal. When he sits up, he notices that there is, in fact, only one Force-nullifying cuff. They detached his arm.

He closes his eyes and breathes deep and tells himself it was probably medically necessary. Large pieces of metal aren’t great for maintaining homeostasis. He’ll get it back.

Probably.

“Ah!”

The voice makes him jolt, and his eyes fly open.

Two cribs, one much bigger than the other. Both are occupied. The larger one has bars, and through it...

“Snips,” he breathes, lurching to his feet and then crashing to his knees, about as graceful as a newborn eopie.

“Bah!”

“Just--just one second,” Anakin grits out, grimacing as he tries to pull himself to standing again. The fact that he’s down an arm doesn’t impact him much, but the shakiness of his legs is... a problem.

“Owwww,” Ahsoka coos with an exaggerated grimace, reacting to his pain with the innocent sympathy of a toddler. She looks, what, two? Maybe? He’s not sure if there’s anything particular about how Togruta babies age. She’s too young for words, clearly.

“I’m fine,” Anakin assures her, even as his heart sinks. She’s Ahsoka, clearly, he knows her in the Force and it can’t be anyone else, but her memories...

She recognizes him, but that’s not saying much.

He manages to get over to the chair next to the crib, but doesn’t trust himself to take her out right now. The snow and the mess of a fight before that haven’t been kind to him. Instead, he just sticks his hand through the bars and lets her grab at his fingers.

He can’t help but smile, really. She’s adorable, and she’s so damn happy to see him.

“Skyguy!”

“Oh, so you are talking,” Anakin says, part of him relaxing just a tad. “I was worried.”

“Mine,” she stresses, patting at his wrist.

“Yeah, your Skyguy,” he says. So she remembers... some things, at least. “And you’re my Snips.”

She squeals and yanks on his hand, just enough that the Force-suppressing cuff clanks against the bars of the crib. “Sky, Sky, Sky!”

Oh, she’s precious.

“You having fun?” he asks, filling the air with words faster than his head can fill with doubts. “Has everyone been nice?”

“Mmmmm,” she grumbles, falling to her butt with a huff. “Doc!”

“Oh, a doctor?” he asks, wondering at his own tone. He never expected to be one for baby-talk. “Was the doctor mean?”

“Cold!” she tells him. “Cold here!”

She taps at her chest, right where someone might check her heartbeat or breathing; the metal would be cold, and also necessary. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. Considering how poorly Anakin had fared, he’s just happy they’re all alive and mostly fine.

He doesn’t know what year it is. He knows he’s not in the year he should be. He’s vaguely aware of the name Jaster--one of the Mandos had said it while bringing him in--but he doesn’t know when Mereel’s reign ended and Fett’s began. He does know both are supposed to be dead.

Has Anakin been born yet? Has Ahsoka? Hell, has Obi-Wan?

Can he give out any real names?

A series of small, upset noises start coming up from the other, smaller crib.

He stands, but Ahsoka clings to his hand and refuses to let go. He can’t pry her off, not without his other arm, but he pulls away with quiet reassurances that he just has to check on... on...

Her brother, he says, aware that there’s more than a slight chance someone has the room bugged. He’s a Jedi in Mando custody. They aren’t stupid, and neither is he.

Obi-Wan’s the most likely to have already been born. Having the same name and face will draw attention, will cause questions, but... he can’t just rename his master like a recently-adopted pet. That’s just... wrong.

Anakin’s less shaky than when he first woke up, but he still has no way of safely picking up the kids. He reaches into the small crib, something twisting behind his sternum, and tickles under Obi-Wan’s chin.

The baby--the infant--looks up at him with wide eyes, too blue for the Obi-Wan he knows, but full of wonder and--

Love, the Force whispers through the cracks in the effects of the cuff.

“Love you too,” Anakin whispers, though he wonders if Obi-Wan would really feel like this as an adult again. Babies love easily, he thinks, and he’s the only adult that Obi-Wan knows right now. Maybe it’s just chemicals.

He stands there for longer than is probably a good idea, with the state of his body, but he can’t help it. Obi-Wan keeps grabbing at his finger and kicking with tiny legs, and sticking a tiny, tiny fist in his mouth as he tries watches Anakin.

It’s all Anakin can do to mutter a stream of meaningless nonsense as he struggles not to cry. He’s always had too many emotions, and right now he’s the only person these two can rely on. He’s the adult.

The door whooshes open.

“The medic said you were awake.”

He knows that voice. He closes his eyes and doesn’t turn, because there are a million feelings in his chest and he’s not sure which one is going to come out first.

“Sky?” Ahsoka questions, likely feeling his worry. “Issokay! Good!”

No, she wouldn’t have the mind to recognize why this familiar face she knows as friend is quite the opposite.

Anakin turns away from the crib, and smiles. “Mando.”

“Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker,” the teenager in the door says. He’s not wearing his bucket, but the rest of his armor is in place. Anakin would peg him as younger than Ahsoka was, before. Not by much, but... fourteen, maybe fifteen. The face is painfully familiar, and stays utterly neutral as he answers the question Anakin didn’t ask. “We found your Ident card after you passed out.”

Cool, so, Anakin definitely can’t change his name.

“Are they yours?” the teenager that will one day create an army says.

“They have no one else,” Anakin tells him. It’s true enough. Still, he gets the feeling that’s not what Fett’s asking. “They’re family.”

Jango squints at him. “I was told Jedi can’t have families.”

Anakin’s mind flashes to Padme and the fantasies he’d long harbored of children born free, and tears himself away. He can’t think about that right now. He can’t think of who he’s--

“Jetii!”

Anakin’s head snaps up, and he realizes he’s shaking. Fett’s not neutral anymore, just... concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anakin spits out, and leans on the crib behind him. He can hear the little ones whimpering. He has to pull his thoughts in and bundle them up into something that won’t hurt the incredibly Force-Sensitive babies behind him. “I’m--I’m all they have. They’re all I have. Are the exact words important?”

Fett doesn’t grimace, exactly, but his expression isn’t pleasant. “I guess.”

Anakin waits to see if there’s anything else coming, but no. Just an awkward silence. He holds onto his frustration, but it still gets the better of him.

“What are my chances of getting my arm back?” he asks.

“Hm?”

Anakin waves what’s left of that arm, the tied-off sleeve flapping about. “My arm. If you don’t want to give me mine back, can I at least have some kind of placeholder? I can’t pick up the babies without worrying that I’m going to drop them.”

“I can ask the medics,” Fett says. He stares at Anakin for a little more, and then asks, “Aren’t you going to ask about our plans for you, or...?”

“If you wanted to kill me, you already would have,” Anakin mutters. “Right now, these two are my only priority. I’m more likely to keep them safe and alive here than I am if I try to break out. I can be patient. I would also assume they wouldn’t have been left in a room with me, alone, if any of us were in danger of medical complications.”

Fett flushes and turns. “I’ll tell buir you’re up and active. There’s a nurse droid in the hall, I can have it handle feedings until you get an arm.”

“Thanks,” Anakin drawls, aware that he’s a little bitchy right now, but not in any mood to temper himself.

He settles himself on the floor next to Ahsoka’s crib, lets her play with his hair while the nurse droid feeds Obi-Wan, and then feeds Ahsoka herself. Anakin thinks he could probably pull the droid apart for an escape attempt if it came down to it. He hopes it won’t be necessary. He’s barely existing in the moment as it is. The droid asks Anakin if he needs anything, and he... shrugs.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Perhaps some non-perishables,” the nurse droids suggests. “Ration bars, for if you are hungry before one of the Mando’ade returns.”

Anakin shrugs again. “Alright.”

He ignores the droid after that. He’s only mostly cut off from the Force by the single cuff. He can’t blanket his Master and Padawan in his own Force presence, try to make them feel safe and calm with the fact that he’s here and ready to protect them, but he can monitor them. He can meditate, even if it’s not the way he prefers to do it. He doesn’t have the strength for moving meditation right now, but a regular meditation... he can do that.

He needs to do that, because no other stress relief option is available to him right now.

Anakin lets himself feel the babies fall asleep, the two of them radiating contentment and warmth. He lets himself trust that, for the moment, he doesn’t need to worry. He lets himself sink into an absence of thought, and then the Force guides him deeper still.

“Anakin!”

His eyes fly open.

This is not the real world.

This is not the room-cell in the Haat Mando’ade base he’s managed to stumble across.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says again, a smile hidden in a beard and worn laugh lines about his eyes. The right age, the right size, reaching for him and--

There’s only a moment’s hesitation for Anakin to process, and then he sprints forward and yanks his Master into a hug.

“You’re good,” Obi-Wan mutters to him, rubbing his back as they both sink to their knees. There’s a click of bootheels against the empty white not-space that they’re in, and Ahsoka buries herself into their sides. Anakin pulls her in a little closer too.

They stay that for longer than is maybe necessary, but Anakin’s stress levels are sky high right now, and he needs this. A hug, even one that’s technically only taking place in his head, is important.

“Sorry, Skyguy,” Ahsoka whispers. “Thinking in the real world is... really hard right now.”

He pulls away from the desperate hug he’d started them off with, rearranges things so he’s leaning against Obi-Wan, lets Ahsoka lie down with her head in his lap, on her back and legs stretched out across the white nothingness.

“I don’t know what happened,” Anakin says. “I mean, Sith stuff, probably, but... we’re in the wrong year.”

“I’d wondered,” Obi-Wan admits. “I thought it odd that I couldn’t feel the clones, but I only have so much energy to think right now...”

“Please tell me there’s a way to fix it,” Anakin begs. “I can’t be the adult, Obi-Wan. I haven’t even been born yet, that’s how far back we are. I don’t know what to do, and I can’t just bang around making bad decisions without you there to pull me back and--”

“Breathe,” Obi-Wan tells him.

“We’re in the Force,” Anakin says, just a little hysterically. “We don’t need to breathe!”

“Actually, I think we’re in your head,” Ahsoka says. She’s pointing and stretching her feet like a dancer, but looks up to grin at Anakin like the little shit she is. “You’re the only one whose brain is big enough right now.”

“Hey,” Anakin complains, putting his entire palm over her face as revenge. She giggles and swats him away. “That any way to talk to the guy who taught you how to kill five guys in one move?”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and runs a hand over her montrals, smiling when she wriggles and makes a little chirruping noise.

“She’s not wrong,” Obi-Wan says. “Though the phrasing was unfortunate, it does stand to reason that as the only person without the brain of a toddler, you’re hosting. Our minds can’t handle the strain of our own selves, let alone sharing space.”

“Infant.”

“Hm?”

“Ahsoka’s a toddler. You’re an infant. Maybe six months.” Anakin grins, just this side of brittle. He doesn’t want to joke about a problem he can’t fix, but what else is there? “You’re the literal baby of the lineage now.”

Obi-Wan sighs over the riot of Ahsoka’s laugh. “Of course I am.”

“It’s okay, Master,” Ahsoka assures him. “Skyguy’s gonna take care of us until we can fight again.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says, grimacing slightly. “I am sorry for you being put in such a position, Anakin. It’s certainly not an easy one.”

Anakin wishes he could say that his immediate reaction isn’t a sense of hurt, a you don’t trust me, a you don’t think I can do this, a you’re disappointed someone else wasn’t here to handle things instead.

He wishes he could make that claim and have anyone believe him, but they are in a shared meditation, and in this moment there are very, very few secrets. He does not make the effort to hide his reaction in time, and Obi-Wan catches it.

Anakin turns away as Obi-Wan’s face fills with surprise and horror. “Anakin--”

“Can we just pretend you didn’t feel that?” Anakin asks, and flinches when Ahsoka pops up from where she lies and scurries around to hug him like a vise. “Can we just pretend I’m not--”

“Dear one, there are very few people I would trust as much as you in this,” Obi-Wan says. “Those who match up are largely the people who helped me raise me when I was actually this age.”

“Being completely reliant on your padawan isn’t--”

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, cutting him off there. “I can trust you to care for me in ways that don’t just come down to making me a useful general again. I already trust you to risk your life and safety and freedom to see us survive, given what little I remember of that storm.”

“You handed yourself over to Mandalorians you knew nothing about so we’d be safe,” Ahsoka mutters into the fabric somewhere over his ribs. “That could have gone really badly, and you still did it because you were worried about us.”

“We trust you, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling Anakin to his chest and resting his chin on Anakin’s head. “We know you.”

“You don’t even know what happened in the storm,” Anakin mutters. “You were asleep.”

“I caught enough listening to the doctors,” Obi-Wan says. He runs a hand over Anakin’s head and through his hair. “You did well, Anakin.”

Anakin wonders why they don’t do this in real life. Obi-Wan doesn’t usually hug him, let alone cuddle. Maybe it’s because they’re all stuck in too much truth in this shared meditation, and the other two are currently stuck in child bodies that crave physical affection in ways they don’t realize they’re expressing in here as well. Maybe it’s the stress.

“What even can you hear?” Anakin mutters, still in Obi-Wan’s arms. Ahsoka giggles at him, nuzzling into his side in a way he doesn’t think she’d ever let herself, normally.

“We can’t really think in the real world right now,” she muses. “Only when we’re sleeping, and probably when we’re meditating once we’re bigger. If I try to think too hard, my head hurts worse than that time Ventress got me in the head with the back of her saber.”

“Everything takes up more space than it should,” Obi-Wan adds. “It’s... all of my senses are bigger and brighter and take up more of my attention, but they aren’t very clear, really. They’re just more. I can’t focus on anything, either, except... well, the feedings.”

Ahsoka makes an annoyed noise. “The whole diapers and bottles thing is really embarrassing, by the way. Only here, though, I barely notice when I’m awake because...”

“Because you’re a toddler,” Anakin says drily.

She huffs. “How would you feel if you were stuck like that?”

That’s fair.

“I don’t remember much,” Obi-Wan says carefully. “But part of me recognizes familiar things, even if I can’t quite make the connection.”

“Was that Fett, earlier?” Ahsoka asks. “Because I thought I saw a friend, and I pretty much forgot the face as soon as they left, but--”

“It’s Fett,” Anakin confirms. “But I guess that’s good to know? You saw his face and your baby brain just assumed it was one of the clones?”

“Pretty much.”

“And we know we trust you,” Obi-Wan adds, and tightens the hug when Anakin stiffens. “Anakin, I can barely understand the world around me at all right now. It’s like being on the painkillers that don’t knock you out but leave you saying only the most ridiculous things that come to mind. You have a general understanding of what’s going on, but all your emotions are too much and the room spins, you can’t stay on one track mentally, you can’t remember what you’ve done and what you haven’t--”

“You can’t control your bladder,” Ahsoka mutters, just a touch spitefully.

Obi-Wan grimaces and nods. “An unfortunate commonality in the experiences, yes. What I was aiming to address, however, is the fact that I only remember a very few things with any reliability. Most of my adult mind, so to speak, appears to be stored in a stasis form in the Force itself, because the infant mind can only handle the barest edges of who I am. But what that infant mind knows, and what I remember thinking once I have some sense of my full self in sleep, is that there is no one I react to as positively as you, Anakin.”

“What he’s trying to say,” Ahsoka interrupts, “but can’t because he’s trying to be a serene Jedi Councilor who definitely doesn’t break the code, nosiree, is that we don’t remember much about ourselves when we’re awake, but we remember you, and we know that we love you, Skyguy.”

Anakin stares at her, and then twists around to look at Obi-Wan instead.

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka croons. “Stop being emotionally constipated. We’re literal babies right not, which sucks, but we’re like 90% emotion. Tell Skyguy.”

“Yes, er, Ahsoka was not incorrect,” Obi-Wan says, stroking his beard and refusing to meet Anakin’s eyes. “I, that is to say, we...”

“Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka says, a touch sharper than she might have dared if not for the reversal of their ages.

“I do love you, Anakin, and it’s one of the only things my child mind knows consistently.”

The Force does, in fact, sing with the truth of this. It circles them like a delighted tornado of emotional reality, pulsing like a coat of positivity.

Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s shoulder and hugs him as tightly as possible.

“Oh! Oh dear, I--Anakin, really, this isn’t news.”

“Master Kenobi, you’re allergic to actually talking about your emotions. Let him hug you.”

“Anakin, I’ve raised you since you were nine, it would be nearly impossible for me to not care, why are you--”

“Master Kenobi, stop questioning him!” Ahsoka whines. “It’s affirmation time.”

“Ahsoka, have you been spending time with the mind healers again?”

“I was a teenager in a warzone and also Barriss bullied me into it for my own good.” Ahsoka shrugs. “I learned some stuff. You two should have gone, too. You were more karked up than I was.”

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan scolds.

“What are you going to do, spit up on me? You can’t exactly make me run laps, Master.”

“Both of you shut up,” Anakin mumbles, and tries to push as much of his own affection as possible into a little ball of feelings that he can just drop on the two of them while he’s still in his own brain and not somewhere he can’t touch the Force. “Just--just shut.”

Apparently, Anakin’s feelings are a lot, because Ahsoka bursts into tears and Obi-Wan zones out so hard Anakin starts worrying about him.

They’re in a mindscape, a thing that he didn’t really think happened, but does. He shouldn’t have to worry about his--

“Oh, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, pulling him in tighter. “Why did you...”

“Skyguy, I don’t think you planned on putting in the part where you worry about nobody loving you back as much as you loved them,” Ahsoka says, raw and uneven. “Because, uh, we got that? Skyguy, that’s really wrong!”

Oh shit.

“No, you were... you were not supposed to get that,” he says, just a little strangled. “I am so sorry, that wasn’t--”

“Be our dad.”

Anakin stares down at his Padawan. She stares determinedly back.

“What?”

“Fett asked if we were yours, and you edged around the question by saying we were family, but he was asking if you were our dad. I’m guessing you didn’t want to claim that when we couldn’t agree to it, so I’m telling you now: do it. Adopt us the Mandalorian way or whatever. You were already my older brother, basically, this is just a step sideways in how we talk about it.”

He stares at her a bit more. He doesn’t have words, and his emotions are such a cyclone of conflicting thoughts that he’s surprised the Force hasn’t tossed him out.

“I don’t know if I’m going to be born, but if I am, then I need a name so I don’t have the same one as future me,” she says. She takes his hands, holds them tight and leans in close. “You’re going to be raising us anyway. The Force already made it clear there’s no fixing this, we tried asking while you were unconscious, it wants us to grow up the long way. You’re going to be our dad. Just make it official. Make me a Skywalker.”

Anakin sits up straight, looks her up and down, the determination and affection and--

He turns to look at Obi-Wan. “Master?”

“...yes, Anakin?”

“I know she said ‘we’ and ‘us,’ but I’m not letting anyone speak for anyone else. Not for something this important.”

Obi-Wan blinks at him, and then rearranges himself to something a tad more formal. He takes one of Anakin’s hands in his own. “Anakin, we’ve been family since you were nine. This is just redefining the terms. We can adjust as we go forward, but for all intents and purposes, the majority of the time, I will be that youngling in the cot. For all intents and purposes, I will be your child, and... and I would be honored for you to make that official.”

“Even if it breaks the Code?” Anakin presses.

“All is as the Force wills it,” Obi-Wan says, almost but not quite overriding Ahsoka’s, “This doesn’t break the Code.”

They both turn to look at her. She shrugs. “What? You guys are always arguing about it and Skyguy was married. I went and did some digging about what is and isn’t allowed. This adoption would be skirting the edges of some rules, since we should be taken to the creche to be raised in a communal manner, and official adoptions are discouraged for reasons relating to later padawan stuff, but since the Force is also insisting we stay with the Mandalorians, I think it qualifies as an exception and will be treated as such, retroactively, by the Council. You also won’t be able to take either of us as Padawan once that time comes. It does not, however, violate the Code in and of itself.”

“What the hell, Snips?”

“I’m impressed, young one,” Obi-Wan says, with a smile Anakin can feel. “I could have expected to see you in court in a few years, with an argument like that.”

“You knew I was married?” Anakin squeaks.

“Rex isn’t a very good liar,” she says. She then droops. “Or, he wasn’t. Wouldn’t be. He tried, at least, but I caught on. That was against the Code, though. Just so you know.”

Anakin runs a hand over his face, tries very hard not to think about what and whom he’s left behind. He can save that breakdown for later.

He chances a look at Obi-Wan.

He gets a raised eyebrow in response.

“You’re not mad?”

“I knew you and the Senator were close, considering all the kissing you did in the Arena,” Obi-Wan says drily. Anakin isn’t stupid enough to ask how he knows it’s Padme. “I didn’t know you were married, and am a little disappointed you didn’t at least tell me, or consult me before you did it, considering you were still a padawan... but no, I’m not mad. Even if I were--and I am not--we’ve time-traveled, so I’m fairly certain that qualifies as annulment. It’s a non-issue.”

Anakin pushes down the tidal wave of grief for people who haven’t been born yet, and just breathes instead. This is important. This is too important for him to just kriff it up.

“Names,” he says.

“I still want part of it to be ‘Soka,’ if you don’t think it’s too risky.”

Obi-Wan shrugs with a smile. “Almost every time I’ve posed as a Mandalorian, since my first mission with Satine, I’ve gone by Ben. It would be fitting that, now that we’re here and apparently staying, I take the name for real.”

Anakin nods. He closes his eyes, and breathes deep, and thinks that they may be among Mandalorians on a world of snow, but he has the desert in his bones and will never forget it.

“Ahsoka Tano, sister of my heart,” he says, hoping he’s getting the words right, and takes her hands in his. It’ll have more meaning here and now, where they’re both of full mind. He holds her gaze. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my daughter, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Sokanth Skywalker, she who slips through every hunter’s trap, and you are my child.”

She smiles brightly at him, and looks like she might cry. He presses his lips to her forehead. He turns to his Master. He hesitates, because it’s one thing to redefine his little sister, but...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi, father of my heart,” he says, his voice catching where it shouldn’t. He can do this. It’s weird but he can do this. “You ask to join my family, to be of those who walk the sky. You shed your old name as you shed the chains of your past. You become my son, not of blood, but of love, loyalty, and survival. My wells are your wells, and all I own and earn is to set the path of your freedom. I name you Ylliben Skywalker, he who hunts the monsters of the darkest nights, and you are my child.”

The man before him almost laughs, well aware of how absurd it is for Anakin to be the one adopting him, but keeps it limited to just a twinkle in his eye and a quirk to his lips. Anakin presses his lips to his teacher’s forehead.

He pulls both of them in close. Padawan and Master. Ahsoka and Obi-Wan.

Daughter and son. Soka and Ben. His.

“I’m still gonna call you Skyguy,” Soka says wetly. “But Mas--um, Ben. Ben can call you buir, all the Mandos are gonna love it.”

“Fine by me,” Anakin says. “I’m going to be telling you Tatooine bedtime stories, by the way. You’ll remember creche stories as you grow, but these’ll be new.”

“I do believe that would be appropriate,” Ben says, laughing just a touch. “I also think we should perhaps disband this, unless you have something else to address. You’re going to be dealing with two very cranky younglings soon.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna have headaches after this,” Soka laughs, rubbing her face against his shoulder. “But it’s okay, we got what we ne--”

“No, shut up, what you do mean, headaches? You said that was only when you were awake!”

“I mean, we’d be sobbing after like three minutes if we were awake,” Soka says cheerfully. “This way, it’s been like... an hour or whatever between all the talking and the hugging and the crying and the feelings, and we’re just gonna be grumpy.”

“Oh my--wake up!” Anakin growls at both of them. “I’m responsible for you now, wake up.”

He ignores Soka’s laughter and drags himself back to wakefulness. Behind him, he feels slight confusion and pain mixed with love and delight. Ben starts fussing.

Anakin drags a hand over his face and groans. He gets to his feet, nods to the nurse droid, and steps over to the cribs.

“Can we put them in the same one until I get my arm back?” he asks. The droid obliges, moving Ben to Soka’s crib. She immediately crawls over to him and envelops him in a hug. She pouts up at Anakin, eyes going watery, and he drops into the chair next to her and offers his hand through the bars. She grabs it.

“You’re going to be trouble for a long, long time, huh?”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he smiles at her. Yes, trouble in spades, his Snips.

He starts telling her one of the fables of Tatooine, the really sanitized ones meant for children her age, before they got to the slave stories and haunt-tales. She falls asleep for real, no Force Shenanigans, shortly after. Ben is dead to the world by that point, making small snuffling noises whenever the blanket tickles his nose.

Anakin knows he’s got the galaxy’s dopiest smile on his face. It’s fine.

It’s a few more hours before someone stops by. He’s used the fresher by that point, helped the nurse droid coax Ben through a feeding, and helped Soka play with the little stuffed eopie they’ve given her.

“They got names, aruetti?”

He looks up and over. “Yes.”

The middle-aged man ambles over, arms crossed. “Jango said you claimed to be all they had left.”

He is. “They’re family. I’ve had a few hours to think it over, now that I’m not getting shot at or dying in the snow. To any system that allows it, I’ll be their father.”

“No chance of returning them to their people?”

Anakin shakes his head. “Soka has none who would recognize her, and I already--I already babysat her regularly, and she thought of me as a brother. It’s an easy next step.”

“And the human?”

“I... the master-padawan relationship is often one that is compared to that of parent and child,” Anakin says carefully. “My own master was like a father to me, and Ben is... Ben is all I have left of him.”

There. Not quite the truth, but... technically not lying.

Ben makes a small noise in his sleep, fussing, and Anakin reaches through the bars to brush his thumb across the infant’s chubby cheek. He smiles helplessly as Ben whines and curls in tighter on himself, pressing a tiny fist to his mouth.

“You’re good,” Anakin whispers. “We’re fine, Ylliben.”

“I don’t know what you’re hiding,” the Mando says. “But I do believe you’re doing what you can for those kids.”

“That’s all that matters,” Anakin agrees, finally looking away from his... his son.

Mine, the greedy krayt in his chest whispers.

“When are you planning on going back to Coruscanta?”

“I’m not,” Anakin says, standing and looking the man head-on. Anakin’s taller than him. That’s usually useful. “I don’t know why, but the Force wants me to stay here, or at least with the Mandalorians.”

“You want me to believe that you support my cause?”

“I don’t know your cause,” Anakin admits. “But I don’t like Death Watch, and I know you don’t either. Nobody on Coruscant is going to know to miss me, and the Force is warning me away from trying to go back. Whatever it is that needs doing, I’m supposed to be doing it here.”

The man steps forward. “Anyone tell you who I am?”

“No.”

“I’m Jaster Mereel.”

Good for you, Anakin thinks, and doesn’t say. “I’m pretty sure you already know my name.”

“I do,” Mereel says. “Wanna tell me how a Knight with a seemingly valid ident card claims nobody will know to miss him?”

“No.”

Mereel doesn’t even blink. “Try that again.”

“It means exactly what I said,” Anakin says. “The ident card is real. My training and rank are earned and deserved and bestowed by protocol. All of it was done at the Temple in Coruscant, but if you phone up the Temple with my name and face, nobody will know who I am.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why,” Mereel grouses. “What’s stopping me from calling them up anyway and asking them to come fetch your hypothermic ass?”

“...the fact that I already offered to help you?” Anakin manages. “I... I did say that part, right? That I’d help?”

“What’s stopping you from wanting to go back? And don’t give me any of that ‘will of the force’ banthashit.”

“I broke the Code,” Anakain says. The words sit heavy in his mouth, but one of his violations is lesser than the other, and-- “I married, and we’re not supposed to do that. She’s... not around anymore, but it still stands that I did it.”

The Tuskens weigh on his mind, suddenly and intensely. He hasn’t thought about them in ages, has always pushed those memories down, down, down, but--

“And they won’t take you back?”

“They might,” Anakin admits. They probably would, with his full title and everything, especially if he told them about the future. “But they wouldn’t let me keep the kids.”

Understanding flickers. “Not allowed kids?”

“It’s not... technically against the code,” he hedges. “But they’d find out about my marriage while investigating my past--” maybe, he’s not sure what kind of investigation they’d justify for a complete stranger of a knight, especially to confirm the future, but if they had a psychometric so much as touch his saber or arm, once he gets those back, there’d be a risk, “--and after already breaking the code by marrying, they’d be far less willing to bend the rules about the babies.”

He doesn’t realize how likely the risk is until after he says it, because he’s just been focusing on staying alive and following the Force, but.. they’d want the kids in the creche. He’s broken the code enough that any investigation they set to prove he’s legitimately a Jedi Knight that isn’t recorded and isn’t in the system is going to uncover something through the Force. They might not let him keep his family.

“What are their names?”

“I already--”

“Jango kept his last name,” Mereel cuts him off. “Did yours?”

Anakin looks the man in the eye, and then attempts to cross his arms in response, to mirror the pose and hold his ground. Unfortunately, he’s forgotten that he’s only got the one arm, which is really kriffing irritating.

“I gave them my name,” he says. “They’ll know where they came from, but they are mine.”

Yeah, no shit they’ll know where they came from.

Mereel’s face twitches, but the man is unreadable in the Force. Still, there’s something in the air... “So, those names?”

“Sokanth and Ylliben Skywalker,” Anakin tells him. He spells it out when the droid asks. He assumes it’s just for the medical data their droids are collecting.

“How well can you fight without your laser sword?”

“You mean unarmed?” Anakin asks, and then smiles brightly and tauntingly and waves his empty sleeve around. Mereel does not appreciate the humor. “Pretty well, but I do better when I have the Force, and am not still recovering from hypothermia. And I’m a fair shot with a blaster, but no specialist.”

Mereel eyes him for a moment, and then nods. “One of my snipers is Force-Sensitive. Never was enough to get more than some basic training in mental shields and the control to not hurt herself, but when we mentioned bringing in a Jetii, someone asked her what she thought. Came by the room while you were unconscious and said she thought you felt sad, angry, and desperate... but that she had a good feeling about where you’d be going.”

“Sad, angry, and desperate?” Anakin repeats, a little offended.

“You act like a veteran, kid,” Mereel says. He shrugs. “Damn near everyone that goes through some kind of war has all that going on. S’normal. You got Kamira’s approval, though, and that means a damn sight more. Keep your secrets for now. We’ll get there eventually.”

No we won’t, Anakin thinks. Out loud, he asks, “So, how much of what kind of work would I have to do to borrow a ship to Tatooine and earn enough to free a slave girl?”

#disaster lineage #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #jango fett #jaster mereel #time travel #mandalore #tatooine #de aging #babies #phoenix files #Anakin and the Jedi Babies

630 notes · View notes

oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years ago

Text

Fixed: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 4 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 3: Love So Soft

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s shorter than my usual updates but I’m busy so sorry for the delay. My final exam dates have come and all I can do is pray right now lol. Please pray for me if you can, this sis is out here writing fanfics for yall instead of studying so, haha. ANyways, enjoy babies! Shit happens in this chapter.

Warning: Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can’t ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can’t get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Word count: 5K

Chapter 4: Fixed

You didn’t sleep that night. Or the next few. Your hands shook every time you got a flashback and even though you were numb to emotions that entire day, tears threatened to spill whenever your mind took to you to that overpriced kitchen again.

Now that he had gone to a dangerous and unnerved assaulter from a Dad trying to take care of his daughter, your mind wouldn’t put anything past him. You knew that in the back of your mind that he was a mobster and your ‘friendship’ was alarming to say the least, but now there was no denying his resources and power and the very obvious threat to your life lingering in the air.

At least before you had the luxury to be oblivious and ignorant, not anymore though. Steve felt even more unhinged and liberal now, even messaging you daily, greeting texts that you obviously ignored. He knew you both were aware that you never handed him your number and he felt no need to hide his pursuit.

You read most of the messages, not bothering with a single reply though. You tried to block him but somehow your phone would still receive messages from his number, even though his contact would always peek back at you from the otherwise empty blacklist.

As if his torment wasn’t ample, another message thread from a different number would forward you alarming images, photos of Grace in her daycare, on a class trip to the park and even her playing in your backyard. You had no doubt that this was another game of his to show you his resources.

You skipped daycare for a few days, your mental health worse than it was after the carnival attack, because now you had a personal tormentor and you cursed yourself for falling into this mess. At times, you believed it wasn’t your fault really, you just helped a kid and this situation spiraled itself but what would pointing fingers now get you? The harsh truth was you were in a calamitous situation now and every step from now on had to be thought out.

So, you let Grace attend her daycare and acted if nothing was amiss or altered, after the few initial breakdown days of course, kept going to your job and earning the bread. You considered your options, you really wanted to go to the cops or a higher fair power but those were few these days, almost non existent in your city. You also vaguely recalled meeting three of the Captains of the PD at Sarah’s birthday, all smiley and doe eyed for Steve. You knew they wouldn’t help, fucking kiss-asses.

Maybe you would have to move somewhere else, perhaps to your hometown, at least till things cooled down or better yet were forgotten? But that trail was very predictable and you didn’t want your parents in this mess.

You also came to know that Steve had inserted himself in the other spheres of your life. You were sure your location was always being sent to him, the knowledge a courtesy of the black car following you while you travelled to home at some late day’s end.

Aiden told you whereabouts were easy to track, when you inquired ambiguously. Another instance was when you went to the bank to deposit cash for your debit card, you came face to face with an enormous amount already there. Somehow, the limit on your credit card was also extended. How, you knew. The clerk told you about an email you must have gotten in regards to it, you dismissed that justification away and told them to not accept the cash. To sum the discussion, they weren’t helpful and had no policy against anonymous donors.

Aiden, your trusted coworker cum pal, sensed the shift in your aura and fidgety form very easily, pestering you with questions and you decided to turn to him, stressed and tired and ready to do something. His questioning eyebrows made you confess vaguely but you refused to tell him the extent of it. Just that his prediction came true and you needed help. Let’s just say, Aiden was a good man.

With time, Steve’s ‘affectionate’ messages became deranged, and you found it harder to act nonchalant in your daily life. You were thankful he didn’t come to visit you, possibly occupied with the rumored war between the mobs. You just prayed for a few more days of ignorance, just enough time to think and do something.

“What do you mean someone collected her?!” You had a hard time controlling your voice, you were about to burst, in tears or with anger, you didn’t know.

“The man was verified in the emergency contacts and we got a letter signed and approved by you to skip the day an hour into the first activity.”

“A man? Emergen-, wait no! What fucking approved letter?”

You had three emergency contacts, your mom in another state, Aiden, and one of the other kid’s mom you had grown close to. Aiden was with you at work all day, so did someone disguise themselves as him? And what was the deal with the letter signed by you? You surely didn’t remember writing and authorizing one.

The boy, Pietro, who had been the receptionist for as long as you could remember, shuffled through the chaotic piles of paper and presented a letter to you, and your blood froze as your eyes skimmed the font.

Your beautiful cursive stared right back at you and you knew that no one would ever be able to distinguish between this penmanship and the one in the pocketbook in your clutch. No one but you. Even though you knew you had not written it, the slightly different ‘f’ and ‘g’ told you everything.

Your signature at the bottom though, was done quite perfectly and that made you even more scared.

“I did-, I didn’t write this! What the-” Your widened eyes met Pietro’s from above the paper but all he offered you was a meek smile. Your hands shook with rage and for the first time in your life, you had the urge to slap someone really bad.

“Maybe your family had an emergency to take he-”

“No, you don’t get it!” You stopped yourself from getting frantic, willing yourself to take deep breaths and think rationally. Today of all days, things had to mess up.

He didn’t know you had no family in this city, that you had a mobster after you or the subtle threats that his hired spy sent to you.

Was going to the police an option? Aiden already told you that the cops were as good as Steve’s men. But this was about your missing kid! You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her. And you were giving Steve way too much credit, what if he wasn’t behind this all? Come to think of it, what if the other number wasn’t his?

Relax yourself! Thinking of disturbing theories wouldn’t help anyone. You thought you should go to the cops, just in case. No mentioning of Steve, just a woman with a ‘missing child’ report.

‘Missing Child’ left an acrid taste behind and you were too close to a breakdown, but your whole journey of single-parenthood taught you to kick vulnerability aside, well most of the times.

You turned and were about to leave, but Pietro stopped you. “If you are going to the cops Ma’am, they require 8 hours of inactivity or disappearance time for kids under 5.”

Well look who just read your mind.

You huffed and kept the tears at bay, your mind thinking of what to do then? Grace was obviously taken-

“How could you let a toddler leave without informing the parents?” You knew your anger was channeling out at the wrong man but didn’t he all but hand Grace to the stranger?

You beat him answering and inquired, “What did the man look like? Do you have any footage? Anything?” The wrinkles in your forehead and stress creases on your face paired with the eyebags betrayed your age surely. You were sure you had aged more this week than an entire decade, juggling your normal life with the hovering threat.

“You shouldn’t be this worried Ma’am.”

The fucking audacity.

“Your daughter recognized him, she all but ran to him and this other little girl he came with. You should maybe ask your parent-friends around? A blonde family perhaps?”

As all the emotions drained from your face and terror took over, the young lad in front of you looked smug. You wondered as if you imagined the faintest of smirks on his face.

You crumpled the letter in your hands, seething with rage as you stepped in your car. Oh, you were mad, more wrathful than ever. You could take any hits on you, any threat but not on Grace, never on her.

You were stupid, you had already decided you wouldn’t put anything past him but unknowingly, you did put this past him. You thought this man had a shred of decency to not use your kid in this adult war, being a parent himself and all but what a surprise! You were wrong.

You drove to your home, your thoughts a mix of trepidation, anxiety and fury. You were scared of him and his reach and resources but if he put Grace in any type of danger; whether to teach you a lesson or use her as bait or both, there’d be consequences.

Lord knows you killed a man a month ago Grace was threatened.

You had one thing to do before contacting Steve about Grace but you never got to do it because unexpectedly the bastard was in your home. In your home.

The black sports car outside was a huge giveaway but your suspicions were confirmed when you opened the door with your house key. The banter and giggles from inside alarmed yet calmed you; the dread of confrontation and the assurance of Grace’s safety reigned your mind.

As the door opened painfully slow like a horror movie, the sight that met your eyes made you sick with a feeling of failure. It wasn’t gore or blood or grunge, it was Steve bouncing Grace in the air and catching her while Sarah twirled around in the living room.

This man was craftier than you thought, every action of his was calculated, each a refined step. You had been so preoccupied to avoid direct encounters with him in your little family’s life that you didn’t think he had other ways. He was always looming around with Sarah and as Grace began to trust Sarah, she consequently began to trust her blonde guardian too.

As you slammed the door behind you, Steve’s eyes snapped to yours and his smirk made you want to punch him so hard. The smugness on his face while he let Grace down without breaking eye contact told you he had no regret, no remorse. In fact, he was loving every second of this cat and mouse chase between you two.

You were a millimeter close to losing your shit, the only check being the kids in the room. But you were mad and he was going to know it.

“What the hell, Steve? Messing with my kid?” You threw your clutch onto the couch, Steve haughty by the reception of his sent message but still holding back because of the kids. He called Wanda and you didn’t really notice where she came from but you did register Steve asking to take the girls to the park for a ‘private discussion’.

As Grace passed by you, you grabbed her arm lightly, making her look at you with doe eyes resembling yours. You gave her a smile trying to ease her, but you knew she was smart enough to sense the change in the atmosphere.

Apparently, the whining Sarah wasn’t.

You looked back to Steve, your hold still on Grace and continued with a frown and raised eyebrows, “She isn’t going anywhere, not out of my sight and obviously not with you or your goons.”

Wanda had the audacity to look offended and you scoffed at her, eyes staring Steve’s down.

“Honey, I don’t think the kids should hear what I think you have to say right now.” He said nodding to Wanda to take Grace.

“You must be deranged to think I trust Grace near anyone even remotely related to you! Take your people and get out.” You held your hand up to stop Wanda and pointed towards the door with the most menacing glare you could form.

Grace looked incomprehensibly between you two, concern and confusion on her face. That might have been the first time such a tone was used in your household. The grumbling Sarah was close to throwing a tantrum, irritated by the change in the playful air or the lack of attention to her, you didn’t know. She was hanging on Wanda’s forearm, her feet slipping on your printed rug. Wanda was trying to not look hurt still by your previous statement, distracting herself by the blonde kid and you were baffled by her obliviousness to all this.

Steve, the beefy blonde Lucifer, was furious and seething. His white knuckles and ticking jaw were the most obvious giveaways, the fingers just itching to beat the shit out of someone no doubt.

Was he imagining striking you into compliance into his weird playhouse game complex? You wouldn’t be surprised given the extent of his attempt to ‘win’ you over.

The ‘get out’ tone and blatant disrespect was a bruise to his ego for sure, and by you, a middle-class woman nonetheless was a worse injury. Steve was the deadly boss to armored men in the vicinity, the kids’ father figure, according to him, and Wanda’s stern yet kind employer.

People had been killed for less and there you were, standing in all your glory, being the only person alive to reject Steve Rogers and now, the only to raise your voice at him.

You almost scoffed at his impudence to look offended, what did he expect? For you to submit to him after the stunt he pulled? His reach was scary he proved today and that any future with him in your life in any way, was a fearsome possibility to entertain but you’d be damned if you went down without a fight.

“You can’t make me leave; we both know. You don’t have the physical edge nor the mental one. I have no problem drawing out G-U-N-S in front of the kids or to throw the warnings around, although I would prefer not to.”

Your free hand itched to slap him, like how his did minutes ago. It wasn’t a mankind problem about men thinking they were entitled to everything; it was a Steve Rogers’s problem. Of course, with him consent didn’t matter. If he had a ‘housewife, kids and fences’ fixation, he’d make it come true.

“Do you even listen to what I say? Or your own words even? Please, go ahead! Traumatise my kid and also yours in your wooing process! Why are you so obsessed? Leave us alone, you freak! I just ignored few messages!” You had a hard time maintaining your cool, if there was any left. You were sure you were scaring Grace and no matter what happened next, you knew she was already traumatized by this entire ordeal already. You were so sorry, so, so, so sorry to your poor baby caught in this mess.

You knew, no, you hoped, he wouldn’t pull out the gun, his actions at the carnival a proof, you remembered how he hid his gun on finding Sarah. That threat was empty but the next one wasn’t, his words making you freeze in your spot.

“I think you keep on misunderstanding me, sweetheart. I don’t make empty promises,”

Posh word for threats.

“For starters, maybe I should pay my future in-laws a visit in their blue duplex. They might need help with the vast garden they have, it is the season for ‘violets’, isn’t it?”

As you froze with your parents being brought up, he also cooled, albeit differently, smirking once again gaining the upper hand, not that he lost it if you were being honest.

“Isn’t threatening my kid enough for you, Steve?” You hated how your loud voice almost broke, your anger slowly subsiding into helplessness and you hated that. You hated his guts, his entitlement, his claim; everything about him.

“You still don’t see it, do you? Our family of four is the most important thing to me right now and I’m not above doing anything to save it.”

“There is no family of four Steve! I keep explaining and you keep coming back to square one with all this bullshit!” The curse word did tick Steve off but he would correct that later, when bigger things weren’t at ploy.

“Your ignorance makes me a little mad sometimes sweetheart and that is why I have to do all I do. You haven’t realized we need each other yet, but I’m staying until you do and even after that, I promise. You know how much it pissed me off to see your tickets and the packed suitcases after I’ve been nothing but nice? I was so generous to spoil you with my riches but instead I find that in your finances.”

This fucker knew. Of course, he did!

You were wondering in the back of your head what had prompted this visit with so many threats and warnings and anguish. He was pissed even before you ‘acted out’, he tracked the tickets and the plan and that meant he even tracked-

“You have so much to learn, but luckily you interact with quite a few people. I am most tempted to start out with this Aiden guy, trying to be the hero and giving you all the ideas. Maybe I should visit him?” Steve wondered out loud, and you flinched at his suggestion, hating how you were trapped by this man.

You couldn’t live with yourself if anyone got hurt because of you, be it your parents or Aiden or any other possibility Steve would come up with. Of course, Grace was your peak priority but you doubted he would hurt her as he threatened to harm them.

“Steve, please.” The fire was almost out, your hands trembling, Grace worried and Steve smug.

“Let the kids go and I think we can come to a conclusion.”

“Steve this needs to stop.” You said, your breaths heavy and helplessness clawing away at you.

“I won’t repeat myself.” He voiced out with a threatening edge, gesturing to Grace and Wanda, clearly telling you to first get the kids out.

For a deranged fucktard, he sure cared about the kids a lot.

You loosened your hold on Grace, patting her arm softly and nudged her to Wanda. Wanda received her little hand and enticed the kids with the promise of ice-cream. Sarah clapped her hands and as the trio left, Grace did look over her shoulders at you in concern and for permission, majorly in concern though. You nodded and waved, a tear dropping as soon as the door clicked shut.

You were still staring at the door, not wanting to meet Steve’s stormy blue orbs when he began, “Today was a slip up that I won’t tolerate again. Neither the cursing nor the dramatics.”

We aren’t in a fucking play, what the fuck is he labelling as dramatics?

Your eyes slowly flickered to his, and you had a hard time not letting the tears escape except the one traitorous one earlier. The fatigue, the worry of Grace’s disappearance, the threats to your friends and family were all catching up to you. It took all in you to stay strong and not fall down right now.

“Steve this isn’t funny anymore. It’s sick and you know it! I just said no! Was that so inexcusable that you had to follow up with this? You have violated me for that, broken into my home and now kidnapped my daughter! At what extent will you stop?” You broke down finally, arms a flailing mess as fat tears rolled down. Nothing scared more than the helplessness this moment. He won and he knew it. The carnival incident was nothing in comparison to this. The only good thing you could hope in all this was a safe Grace but that too only if you complied, which seemed like what you would do now given your attempts at fighting back and scampering have failed laughably.

“Gosh, I forgot how theatrical women are. You are smart darling; you know what I want from day one, just a happy family. Nothing that horrendous has happened and especially not as badly as put it. I’m just looking out for you and me in the long run.” Steve slowly treaded towards you, his hand extended to pat your arm comfortingly but you involuntarily flinched at contact and stepped back. Steve clearly didn’t like that as he caught your arm in a bruising grip and jerked you towards him. Manhandling you as your wet hands rushed to ease his grip was not a tough task for Steve, a surprise to none.

“Stop trembling like I’ve actually done something to harm you!”

Steve clearly didn’t know how to comfort women and it showed.

You stopped with the cowering away, even though it disgusted you to be this much in close proximity with your assaulter. He clearly had anger issues and no clue how to solve them. You needed to steer the conversation right and get him out. You could see your hands visibly shake as you put them on his chest, just to create some distance and in a way of surrendering to not fight. The tears slowed but you don’t think they stopped; it was hard to tell with a million other things on your mind.

As your eyes made contact, Steve loosened his grip, clearly a bit satisfied by your submission, as he began counting to help you breathe. As much as you hated to admit, it helped you and you got a flashback to the time when you freaked out on him about Grace at that extravagant dinner date. That was a sweet gesture then, not so sweet now. Funny how drastically things change with time.

It wasn’t so much Steve’s help as it was your own mind telling you to be fucking smart about the whole ordeal right now.

“Good. Better. Now let’s talk. Why were you planning to run away? I’ve been busy and coming home to find out that wasn’t joyful, you know.” His smile suggested a better mood than before but his voice, his husky voice always had this daring edge that almost challenged you to defy him but at the same time warned you of unpleasant consequences if you did.

“Steve, I’m scared.” You spoke with utmost honesty. “The part of the world you associate yourself with scares me. You can’t blame me for not wanting that life for Grace, I mean you have a kid of your own. Wasn’t the carnival attack specifically on Sarah?”

The reasoning was right but you knew you triggered him the moment his smile evaporated. He either felt insulted as a parent or disrespected in his profession or probably both.

He was fighting his inner demons already and you pointing it out was a slap to his face, a hit he didn’t want to take.

“That was a slip up, I admit. Never again. I’m only human, okay?” He convinced himself and you, his grip tightening a bit again.

Oh no, not the right direction to take.

You reckoned he still had nightmares about it like you, he really did love Sarah a lot, all things aside.

“Besides, I am looking out for you! Out for you and Grace and Sarah. I remember my promise of never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

You definitely didn’t trust his security or his people because what sort of a mobster let his daughter get targeted and possibly abducted? You definitely didn’t know the whole story or if it was just a bad day but he wasn’t a person that deserved some slack. Despite all this, you knew what all he held above you, above a common man. He might not be ‘Kingpin’ skilled but a threat to you nonetheless.

Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “Is that what you call following me around, huh?” which you immediately regretted.

“Trust the process, baby. Everything is just to protect you.”

Is that what he called stalking even Grace around and twistedly enough, sending you proof of that? The anonymous thread of photos was another nightmare of yours, thanks to him. The last being a candid photo inside Grace’s room, her sleeping in her bed this morning and that’s when you decided you needed to get out. Of course, that didn’t go as planned.

“How am I supposed to do that when you have cameras in my house?!” You scoffed and he reeled back at the accusation, having the nerve to look impressed at being uncovered and caught red-handed.

“Oh my fucking God, it was you! You sick pervert!” You jumped out of his grip, your eyes wide and horrified. “I wasn’t aware of what to make of it but of course, it was you! Who else would be sick enough to do that?” You let out a humorless chuckle. You always put things past him even when you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. When will you ever learn huh?

You were full on panicking yet again, this man was an assaulter, a stalker and a creep too. It would have made a good dark, psychological thriller for you to watch if you weren’t the protagonist about to suffer his obsession.

He reached out to steady you again, but you whipped and stumbled back, realizing too late that you elbowed Steve’s nose so bad that there was a crunch. That, right there, was the look a man real-fucking-furious on Steve’s face and now you could see the feared mobster, the man who was personally terrorizing you under the beautiful, Greek God façade.

Steve reacted so fast even with an injury that in a split second, your view of his face turned into a view of his crotch.

“You do realize that there are others ways for me to teach you obedience? I think it’s fucking time you show me your gratitude for my care and attention and apologize for your misconduct and unkind response.” Steve spoke with a hoarse voice, a voice running out of patience and just about done with defiance.

His hand fisted your hair, maintaining eye contact while he nodded between you and his crotch. You knew what he wanted, what he was expecting as ‘thanks’.

“Steve, please no, you don’t-”

His other hand grabbed your jaw, stopping you from speaking as he warned, “I think you have done just enough talking for today, so why don’t you put that tongue to a better use and show me how sorry you are. Better make it convincing because I’d hate to pay one of your friends a visit and then bitch about a nasty blowjob.” He smirked at the end of his monologue, eyes shining with triumph and amusement.

You wouldn’t let him harm anyone else, you couldn’t. You and your daughter were already knee-deep in a pit and at this point, it’d just be cruel to drag someone else in. With shaky hands opening his pants, you just hoped you could get Grace out before you eventually were buried in it.

“Now that’s a good girl. Submissive is a sexy look on you.” His hands patted your hair, playing with your tresses while yours pulled his pants and then briefs down.

His member jerked out, almost slapping you in the face as you recoiled at his insolence to get hard and erect at your torment. Your disdain must have shown which he took as admiration and derision to take his affluent cock in.

“No need to get shy, I have faith you’ll be able take it just as well in your pretty pussy as you will right now. Open up-”

“Steve, I beg you-”

Just as you had cut him off, he interrupted your pleading. Your gag reflex was probably the most efficient in the world but that turned this narcissist on. It had been years since you had done it, never with a man as beefy as Steve.

His taste was salty and if you had to put it into better words, it was the like overpriced sea salt flakes that you never bought. High and pricey and for the entitled.

Your hands clutched at his thighs as you blacked out multiple times; your jaw aching, uvula swaying and tears escaping. Him forcing himself on you brough a new sense of vulnerability as your body trembled. Steve relished like a sadist, practically rutting into you all by himself as you just sat there with your jaw unnaturally open.

His obscene moans and groans were crass and nauseating and you just prayed for this to be over soon and for no one to walk in on this, especially your kid.

It seemed like it would never end, your body dehydrating with all the spit it produced, the drool dribbling and landing just beside your knees on your printed rug. You would have to throw that out.

The tears stooped after some point, the sobbing an unnecessary action that just tired you out more on this eventful day. You moved your tongue around to prevent your teeth from scratching him when he shifted angles. If this was what he did on slightly mad, you didn’t want to find what he did for a more serious punishment.

Apparently, that action was something that turned him on even more, his breath hitching as neared closure. In broken whispers he demanded that again and you complied, wanting to get done with it.

He growled in the moment of his release and you tried to lean back but his grip didn’t relent. “Swallow.” His grainy, exasperated voice said out loud and you knew better than to defy.

He released you and you fell on to the rug, hip bruising by knocking into some furniture and tears coming back again after being hydrated by his seed. He packed himself, his smile smug and content as his expressions truly resembled ecstasy being personified.

“You be a good fiancée from now on and maybe you’ll have all your friends alive and present at our wedding. No cheeky business from now on, got it?” Steve hummed then and strutted out, not even bothering to listen to your reply.

As soon as the door slammed, your eyes closed and your demons danced again.

There was no right direction to take when you were stuck in a loop.

648 notes · View notes

gotnofucks · 4 years ago

Text

Going Against Nature

Pairing: dark!alpha!Steve x reader, dark!alpha!Bucky x reader

Summary: Steve and Bucky would change the laws of nature if that’s what would take to make you theirs.

Steve and Bucky don’t like it when you smell like Peter Parker.

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: NON-CON, breeding kink, smut, FORCED BONDING, poor Peter, language, violence, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Peter is an adult!!

MASTERLIST

+++++

You knew something was off the moment you entered your house. Energy crackled in air as you moved in, the smell in the air absolutely Alpha, and that made no sense since you were a beta. Three different alpha scents overlapped each other, but you recognized only Peter’s, your best friend’s. You crossed the hall to your living room, your dagger in your hand. Peter’s scent was emanating such fear as you had never sensed before, and you would kill anyone who harmed a hair on his head.

You turned the last corner and entered the living room, stopping short in your tracks at the sight that met your eyes. You rushed forward, the dagger falling from your hand as you knelt in front of Peter, bloodied and tied to a chair in the center of the room.

“Peter! Oh my god, what happened Peter?” You asked, your hands cupping his puffed face. His eyes were swollen shut, a groan escaping his lips when your cold hands met his feverish skin.

“Y/n…” It seemed as if it took all his energy to whisper your name and you heart broke seeing your best friend this way.

“Hey hey, calm down. I’m here, I am gonna let you out of these ropes. Pete! Keep your eyes open!” You patted his cheek, making his eyes flutter. It took him a moment to focus on your worried face but when his eyes locked on yours, anguish and panic filled them.

“Y/n, no! Go away, run. They are here. GO!” Peter shouted, struggling in the ropes as if he just wanted to push you away from here.

“Peter, what are you talking about. Lemme cut these ropes.” You turned back to get your dagger but found it missing. Your brow furrowed, you remembered dropping it when you rushed to Peter.

“Run” Peter croaked and you looked at him over your shoulder, your body stiffening as what Peter had said finally clicked.

They are here

Whoever had hurt him was still in your house. Two alphas. You could smell their scent, somewhat familiar but you couldn’t remember exactly whom. As a Beta you didn’t pay much attention to alphas, other than those closest to you. But these must be two very strong alphas to have hurt Peter, an enhanced avenger.

You stood up cautiously, eyes scanning every part of the room. You weren’t an avenger but a trained analyst and could hold your own. Blood stained your furniture, the TV console disturbed and the small knickknacks you decorated your house with strewn about. Clear signs of struggle. You took in the two glasses sitting on your table, the dirt staining your otherwise clean rug and the disturbed cushions on the couch. Whoever they were, they made themselves home. And they hurt Peter.

“I know you are here, come out. You know I am unarmed, so there really is no reason to hide.” You called out loud, your voice strong despite the heaviness in your heart. Anyone who could do that to Peter would very easily take you down. You crept back towards Peter, eyes still taking every inch of your house even as your hand touched his cheek. Peter whimpered, in pain or concern you didn’t know.

“Hold on for me Pete, I’m gonna get us out of here. No one’s gonna hurt you on my watch.” You told him, not even sure if he was following what you said.

When no one emerged for a couple of minutes, you wondered if it will be safe running to your kitchen to get another weapon, or the gun that you hid in your bedroom. You didn’t have time to think over why anyone would harm Peter in your house of all places. When you worked with Shield and the avengers, shit happened for no reason at all. You took a risk and turned your back to the door, kneeling before Peter again. You tested the ropes with your hands and huffed when you found them tight.

“Hey Pete, can’t you hear me? I’m here with you, all right? You just hold on for me sweetie.” Your voice cracked just a little over the pathetic whimper that escaped Peter’s mouth. You were just a little older to him, and you knew no one who would harm such a sweetheart as him. Your hand pushed his hair away from his forehead, soft over the cuts that littered his body.

“You may wanna stop touching him now, cupcake.” A voice behind you called suddenly and you whipped around, stance wide and protective in front of Peter. Before you could even say anything, your eyes widened in shock.

“Sargent Barnes?” You sputtered, absolutely not expecting him to be here. But then you sniffed the air, and his scent filled your lungs, and you finally realized why it was familiar. You worked in the same tower as him, sometimes directly with him. And if he was here, then the other scent must belong to –

“Hello Y/n, how are you?” Captain America asked, appearing from behind Bucky.

“I – what? You both?” You brain had short circuited. You thought they would be the people you would report this to, not the ones responsible for it.

“Sorry for the mess, cupcake. But Spidey-boy here gave us a good fight.” Bucky remarked, his head cocked to the side.

Anger and fear rose like bile in your chest, your face heating with emotion.

“You hurt him! Why?”

Steve ambled towards you and you shifted, your body angling in a way to hide Peter from their sight. He stopped in his tracks, brows raising and eyes narrowing.

“Don’t come near him, let us leave.” You hoped your voice was commanding but seeing Steve fold his arms across his chest in annoyance your confidence crumbled.

“No need to get so defensive cupcake. The kid’s been asking for it for ages.” Bucky scoffed, still standing between you and the exit.

“He – he is a kid. The nicest goddamn person I know. Why would you hurt him?” You questioned, your guard on. Any small sign of movement and you were ready to fight.

“Why?” Steve gave a humorless laugh. “Because he’s been stinking you up with his scent. We can’t go a day without you smelling like him, his scent clinging all over you.”

Your jaw almost dropped to the ground. What the fuck? “Excuse me?”

“Sweetie, you can’t go smelling like another alpha. We don’t like it, and we thought we needed to have a talk with the kid about it. Man to man, you know. But unfortunately, he didn’t agree with our thoughts. Poor boy thought he’d be able to fight us for your honor”

Steve’s word hit your heart like a dagger, and you stumbled back closer to Peter. You didn’t know what the fuck was happening, but it didn’t seem to be faring well for you. Steve and Bucky seemed to have lost their fucking minds, and you needed to escape. Go someone far, maybe find Tony Stark and let him know that his teammates beat up his protégé.

“I don’t understand,” You fretted.

“I’ll explain if you move away from the boy and come here. We won’t hurt you, you gotta believe me cupcake.” Bucky promised coming forward and held out his hand for you.

You shook your head and your hands found Peter who was almost unconscious with blood loss now. Steve growled when your hands stayed on Peter’s shoulders and Bucky tensed.

“The kid is suffering sweetie. You don’t want him to die, do you? Come here, and we’ll treat him. Get those cuts bandaged and some pain killers in his body. Sounds good?” Steve asked.

You looked at Peter and squeezed his shoulder. He groaned and your heart gave away. You nodded to Steve, and Bucky came forward again, his hand held out. You took it slowly and Bucky drew you closer to himself, taking you away from Peter. Your eyes followed Steve who was across the room now with a medical bag in hand, antiseptic wipes and butterfly strips spread before him.

“Please don’t hurt him, he’s my best friend.” You said softly and Bucky’s hand wrapped around your waist. You stiffened as he moved in your space and sniffed at your neck.

“We won’t hurt him anymore cupcake,” Bucky assured you. “But we gotta get his smell off you. The longer it stays on you, the more I wanna kill him.”

You peered into Bucky’s face, acutely aware of Steve tending to Peter’s wounds from the corner of your eyes.

“What’s happening here? I don’t understand why you’re doing whatever you’re doing. You’re supposed to be the good guys” You said and heard Steve chuckling.

“We are the good guys, but we get mad when teenage guys who can’t even grow a beard start touching what doesn’t belong to them. He put his hands on you, on what’s ours. We couldn’t let that go, not when he refused to stop seeing you.”

Your nose scrunched in confusion and fear. You were not stupid enough to try and fight them. You were an analyst because you could judge a situation and how dangerous it is. Right now, your odds of getting away with Peter were next to none, especially with him in such a delicate condition. However, you still didn’t understand what they meant.

“I don’t belong to you. You can’t claim me” You countered; your eyes now trained on Peter who flinched with every swipe of medicine.

“Can’t we?” Bucky whispered right in your ears making you shiver at the close proximity. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed, but he barely even moved.

“Of course, you can’t. I am not an omega. You…you both are alphas. You can’t claim a beta.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other knowingly and shared a small, secret laugh. Bucky had maneuvered himself behind you now, both arms holding yours and securing them in front of you. His chin rested on your head, the slight stubble grazing your neck.

“You’re not an omega yet.” Bucky told you and hugged you to himself and your breath sharpened.

Steve finished patching Peter up and you were thankful he had been honest and gentle. He offered him some water from a glass and Peter gulped it greedily, also swallowing the pills Steve offered. His eyes were now open, and he looked at you across the room in Bucky’s arms with sadness in his eyes.

“I am so sorry Y/n, I should have done better to protect you.” He apologized and your eyes filled with tears. You wanted to run across in his arms, sooth his fears like you’d done so many times before.

“She’s not yours to protect kid, I thought we made it clear.” Steve grunted in displeasure and Peter scowled at him. Even tied up and at their mercy with wounds still dripping slowly, he managed to convey anger and hatred in his glance. Not an ounce of fear in his eyes and you knew if he were free, he’d be standing before you, being your shield.

“Mr. Stark was right when he said you are dangerous. When you believe something is right you never consider the consequences or the lives you’ll harm. You are no hero Captain, and I am sorry I ever considered you one.” Peter spat and you almost smiled.

Steve looked at Peter with a smirk on his face and then walked towards you and Bucky. He stopped right in front of you, looking Peter dead in his eyes before dipping down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You struggled in Bucky’s arm, whining under Steve’s lips that didn’t let up until you were almost out of oxygen. He pulled back and you gasped, eyes stinging due to his assault.

“Doesn’t matter what you feel kid, ‘cause we got our girl in our arms while you’re tied up helpless.” Steve taunted.

“Please, I don’t know what you want. You can’t have me. I am a beta.” You sobbed.

Steve cupped your face and rubbed his nose to yours, cooing at you. Bucky was still holding you to himself and you could feel his hardness against your back.

“Baby, we know you are not an omega. At least not yet. But you are ours, and we have a solution. Don’t we Buck?” Steve said and you felt Bucky nod. Your eyes desperately locked on Peter’s, both of you feeling helpless.

Bucky handed you into Steve’s embrace and pulled out of his pocket a small metal case. Flipping it open he drew out a syringe filled to brim with some blue drug. Your gut clenched in fear as you looked at it, already knowing you didn’t’ want this thing anywhere near you.

“Don’t look so scared cupcake, it’s very safe. Hydra used to use it all the time, but we still had Bruce check this out and he says its safe.” Bucky said to you and you shifted in Steve’s arms.

“Dr Banner is involved with you?” You choked out. You always liked him, and this betrayal of trust cut even deeper.

“Oh, he doesn’t know this is for you. He’s a mad scientist who would research anything in the name of science. Don’t really care much about the consequences, do they?” Bucky mused. “You don’t need to worry much; it won’t hurt for long. One dose and your dynamic will start shifting. You’ll be an omega soon enough.”

Both Peter and you started at the news and your struggles renewed.

“Please don’t do this to me. Why are you doing this? You could have literally any omega out there who will be proud to have you as her alphas.” You cried and Steve shushed you like a mother does to her baby, his hand caressing your head gently.

“We don’t want them, we want you. You are strong and beautiful and a perfect fit for us. You’ll be a great mate and mother to our pups.” Steve said.

Your eyes blurred with tears, body feeling exhausted from your useless struggles. Peter was shuffling around in the chair to no avail. You felt corner and trapped, and you felt useless as an analyst. No part of your training could prepare you for a forced transformation at the hands of the strongest alphas on the planet who wanted to mate you.

“You don’t have to do this. There is a reason nature made me a beta. You can’t do this to me.” You sobbed in Steve’s chest and your tears seeped into his shirt.

“Cupcake, nature makes mistakes. Steve and I were supposed to die seventy years ago, yet look at us now, still alive. You are meant to be ours, our girl, our mate. And we’ll correct nature’s mistakes.”

You shouted as Bucky injected the syringe into your squirming body without warning, your screams of pain mixing with Peter’s protests. Liquid fire raced through your veins and you writhed, losing all control and senses. All you felt was heat and pain, starting from your toes to your head. You could hear your heart threatening to burst out of your chest, your throat raw from your screams. It was never ending, the inferno that was running across your body, changing your biology in its wake. Your every cell seemed to light up and turn itself inside out, your skin crawling. You scratched at yourself and your hands were held down along with your legs, eyes wide open and yet not seeing anything.

You didn’t know if it lasted minutes or days, the pain setting in your bones. Your surrounding was the same and yet the world had changed. You were shivering uncontrollably, sobbing incessantly, and crying out gibberish. Your eyes slowly focused as pain started dissipating bit by bit, your heart thumping irregularly and fast. You were on the floor of your living room, body held immobile with someone’s weight. You whined and they stirred, getting off you and suddenly you were sitting, a glass of water thrust in your face. You gulped it down, the cool liquid doing little to sooth the burn that still simmered deep inside you.

As you breathed, you suddenly gagged and heard someone moving around you. You were choking on air, the scents in the room smothering you. Your new formed omega senses picked up the spicy tangs of alphas and it made you dizzy. Someone was calling your name, yet it was all you could do to keep breathing and not faint again.

“Open the goddamn windows! She’s overwhelmed!” Someone shouted and soon fresh air breezed inside, easing your discomfort a bit. You held your chest, curling in on yourself and breathed deeply.

“Use your mouth to breath sweetie”

You did as commanded and eventually your breathing got easier. You sat with your head between your folded knees for a long time, trying to remember what happened. After what felt like forever, you gazed up and around you, coming face to face with three worried alphas.

“Y/n?” The young alpha tied to the chair called. You looked at him. You knew him, and the others too. Steadily your memories came back, and your eyes filled with tears, and you form shook as heart wrenching sobs wracked your body. Bucky crawled to you and very slowly reached out, his arm curling around your shoulder. You wanted to push him off, curse him away but your body instinctively leaned into him, seeking his warmth and protection.

“Shh cupcake, I got you. I got you baby” He whispered and kissed your hair.

Another pair of arms wrapped around you; a head tucked into your neck. Steve rubbed soothing circled in your sides, his breath washing over you. You were cocooned in their warmth and drenched in their scent, the nature of your biology bending to their wills and calming your racing heart. Soon enough your sobs turn to little sniffles and Bucky wiped your nose with the hem of his t-shirt.

“That’s it, omega, you’re doing so good. Just breath. We’re right here.” Steve said in your ear and you quivered at the timber of his voice.

You gradually raised your head up and the two alphas shifted a little to allow you space. Your eyes darted around your house as if seeing it for the first time, unintentionally falling on things you would need for your nest. Most of all, your eyes set on Peter who looked at you in both pain and wonder.

“Pete?” Your voice was broken, and you saw his eyes close, two streams of tear travelling down his face.

“I am so sorry” He said, helpless and feeling like a failure. He had failed his best friend, the one person who loved him unconditionally.

You heard two growls and two sets of arms on you. Bucky and Steve were baring their teeth at Peter, their bodies ready to attack. You made a pleading noise in your throat and they both looked at you, softening.

“Don’t hurt him” You begged.

Steve pulled you closer and buried his head in your neck, scenting you. His chest rumbled beneath your hand and he purred at your scent filled his lungs.

“Oh god, her scent Buck.” He mumbled, his nose tracing your jugular and Bucky joined in. They took their time with it, rubbing their cheek and neck all over you.

You were feeling overwhelmed, your omega body not used to the sudden flood of emotions and smell. Every nerve ending in your body was taut with tension and your every sense was enhanced by ten times. Their purrs washed over you, and the vibration of their body sent bolts across your spine that settled between your legs. You squeezed your thighs as you felt wetness coat your pussy, your temperature rising. Your body flushed, your scent getting heavier while you started panting. You didn’t need to be an omega to know what was happening, you’d seen it happen to plenty omegas before. You were like a young omega who had just presented and was undergoing her first heat.

Your scent wafted across the room and all the way through the house and you clenched your fist tight, nails digging into your palms. Pain such as you had never know bloomed in your abdomen, cramping your muscles and making you cry out.

“Y/n, what’s happening to her?” Peter shouted and you reached out a hand to him, body too exhausted and dazed to move much. Steve glowered and took your hand in his, the heat in your body burning his like a furnace.

“She’s in heat” Bucky rasped, his voice husky with arousal. Your heat was so powerful that it was sending them into an early rut. He moaned when his tongue swiped across your scent glands, tasting you. “Our omega”

“Ours for taking, ours for filling. You’ll take our mark and our pups” Steve vowed and you cried out when you felt both their hands roaming your body. You wanted to move away, tell them no but your body was at odds with your mind. You were vulnerable under their hands, your presentation craving their touch even as your mind told you to run. You convulsed under the feeling of their hands over your clothed breast and ass, moaning loud into the air. You had no control over your actions, and you let them paw at you unwillingly.

“Don’t touch her! Leave her alone!” Peter shouted and the three of you came out of your trances, having completely forgotten that he was here. You stared into his eyes, and he saw in them what you really felt. Your scent surrounded him and with your gaze locked on him, he squirmed.

“Look at that Steve, the kid wants our omega. You see cupcake, your best friend is getting hard seeing you being handled by us” Bucky almost sang, his hands tweaking your nipples through your shirt and you wheezed out a moan.

“See and learn kid, how to take your woman. And when you do that, know this is the only time you’ll see her this way. She’s ours and by the time this night is over, she’ll be proudly wearing our mark.” Steve said, deftly unbuttoning your shirt.

Peter and you kept looking at each other, Steve and Bucky stripping you down bare. You were too far gone to feel embarrassed at being naked in the plain view of three men. Bucky touched your tummy, rubbing his hands over your skin that made you close your eyes in pleasure. Steve’s mouth found your nipples, licking and sucking with vengeance while Bucky kissed you. You never stood a chance against them, your body dictating your every move. You kissed back and bucked against their bodies, sweat collecting where your bodies touched. Your voice rose an octave higher when Bucky’s metal hand reached between your thighs, his cold fingers collecting your slick and spreading it around you.

“Oh cupcake, look how wet you are. Look how pretty you are all spread out for us.” He groaned in your mouth.

Steve who was just done sucking a hickey below your collarbone shimmied down your body, nestling himself between your thighs. His lust blown eyes met yours and the intensity in them made your walls flutter. Maintaining the eye contact, he licked a broad strip with the flat of his tongue and you jerked under him, back arching with sensations going around your body like fireworks.

Bucky took of your hand and wrapped it around his cock, showing you how to pump it. You never noticed him getting naked, nor did you care. Steve was ruining your cunt with his talented tongue, swirling it in circles around your clit while two of his fingers delved in your heat. The coil in you stretched to breaking point, finally snapping when Bucky bit down on your nipple causing you to howl your release in the air. Steve rubbed you gently, bringing you down from your high, his face covered in your juices and you clenched hard.

To your surprise Steve leaned over you and pulled Bucky into a dirty French kiss, sharing your taste with him. Bucky fisted his hair, his tongue moving in and out of Steve’s mouth and the sight only made you hotter.

“So, this is what heaven tastes like” he muttered, and you whimpered. Steve was taking off his shirt and Bucky took his time pumping his fingers into you, stretching you open. “Gotta loosen you up for both of us cupcake. You need to be nice and stretchy to take out knot.”

You never realized you were fondling your own breasts, trying to find relief from the heat that was centered in your core. You needed them to fill you, stuff you until you couldn’t take it anymore. You saw Bucky look at his arousal coated hands that glistened.

“Steve, we have been so cruel. Look at the poor kid” He said, and you and Steve looked at Peter who was in agony. His eyes were large and locked on you, both sorry and aroused.

“Give him a taste Buck, because he will never get the chance again.” Steve said, now naked and stroking his large cock. Bucky got on his knees and moved closer to Peter, his wet fingers right before Peter’s lips. Your mouth was parted in surprise, a strangled sound escaping you as Peter leaned down to pull Bucky’s fingers in his mouth and sucked. His eyes closed at your taste and you found yourself burning more than ever.

“Please” you begged, to all of them.

“She liked it Steve, look at our girl. You like him getting a taste of you? That make you hot, cupcake?” Bucky teased you and you nodded.

“She needs our knot Bucky; she looks like she’ll combust. You want us sweetie? Tell me how much you want us” Steve ordered, straddling your lower half, his hard cock right over your entrance. He brushed it over your swollen clit, collecting your juices and covering himself in them.

“Need your cock alphas. I need you inside me. Please” You had no dignity left and you were crying as you begged. Steve aligned himself and pushed inside slowly, your body welcoming him.

“Oh god, look at you sweetie, so perfect for me. Look how you suck me inside your cunt and clench hard like you don’t want me to leave.”

He began thrusting, his cock hitting you in that special spot that made your breath hitch and eyes roll. You clawed at the rug, your nails digging inside as you gave moan after moan.

“Open up cupcake” Bucky ordered, his cock slapping your cheek. You opened up and he went straight in, sitting still for a moment to let you adjust. They thrusted in you in a rhythm, pushing and pulling in perfect sync. Steve played with your bud and your whines vibrated up Bucky’s cock so that he fucked your face harder.

“Just like that honey, just like that. Mine. Ours”

Your second orgasm came suddenly and took your breath, and your walls clamped so hard on Steve that he cursed loudly before absolutely letting go and thrusting like a demon in you.

“Gonna give you my knot, gonna make you round with my pups. God you feel so good baby”

He jerked inside you, his knot swelling at the base and stretching you until you felt it would tear you apart. Heat bloomed in your womb, and Steve’s release coated your walls as the same time that Bucky came down your throat.

“Oh cupcake, you are so so good.” Bucky said, his hand caressing your hair. He held you body in his arms, tangling his legs with Steve and yours. You were still locked together with Steve, his knot holding his cum inside. “Gonna fill you up with my seed after Stevie is done. Gonna knot you my little omega.”

+++++

The night was long and strenuous, your body bent into shapes you didn’t know it could take. Bucky and Steve knotted you multiple times and your addled mind welcome them each time. Peter looked at your union with them in desolation, sitting in his ruined pants. He had come in his pants, not being able to help himself. He wouldn’t meet your eyes but when Bucky let him taste you again, he opened his mouth like an obedient pet.

You were sleeping soundly before the couch, a temporary nest of blankets and your alphas’ clothes around you. Two fresh marks decorated your neck, sealing your fate with Steve and Bucky. They knew the true battle would begin once you came out of your heat stupor, but they can handle you together. You belonged to them. They had claimed you against what nature said. You were theirs.

“That’s how you take a girl kid.” Bucky said as he cut Peter free finally. The poor boy was both mentally and physically exhausted and Steve had to steady him lest he fall.

“You won’t look at her again will you?” Steve asked and Peter shook his head in dejection. He had failed you and your friendship. He was to be blamed. As if Steve read his mind, he patted his back gently. “It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. She was meant to be ours regardless of everything that happened. I am sorry about how the evening went, but if it were your mate you would understand.”

Peter’s shoulders slumped and he had no more tears to lose. He looked pleadingly at them.

“Don’t hurt her, please. She doesn’t deserve that.” He said.

Bucky smiled at Peter is assurance.

“We look after our own, kid. She’ll be fine”

+++++

TAGLIST IS OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS

#dark!steve x reader #dark!bucky x reader #alpha!steve x reader #alpha!bucky x reader #dark!alpha!steve x reader #dark!alpha!bucky x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #peter x reader #alpha steve #alpha bucky barnes #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha peter

2K notes · View notes

retrogalwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Shigaraki x cow girl!reader

Title: “Dark side of the MilkyWay” / see on ao3

summary: You are a hero with a cow quirk, and Shigaraki captures you for himself.

Warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, dehumanization, humiliation, Incel behavior, Shigaraki being a crusty bastard

Other contents: Lactation, breastfeeding, milking, tiddies, mating press, breeding

words: 1518

The shackles around your wrists that kept your arms above your head were the first thing you noticed after waking up, then the pounding ache all through your body. Your body...the realization that you were naked shook you off that drowsy state into full alert, breasts and pussy completely exposed the the cold air. Panic arose to your heart, fear and despair, all of those ugly emotions which you tried to control at the best of your ability, like you had done so many times before in the face of danger and the unknown. You had to get yourself together if you hoped to escape such a dire situation.

As a sense of calm started to set in, you noticed other things, like the soft bed you were bound to, the darkness of the room that seemed to be practically empty. It took hours before you heard the door click open, and while you were expecting a villain to greet you, you certainly did not expect to see the head of the infamous Leage of Villains.

Shigaraki Tomura himself was grinning down at you as he hurriedly walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Seems like everyone's favorite cow is finally up." He sneered, delighted eyes leering at your bare, heaving breasts and pussy so shamelessly that you were pulling your arms as hard as you could in a useless attempt to break off your shackles. Shigaraki only laughed, one of his hands reaching for your head, roughly grabbing one of your horns and forcing your head down, you made a little mooing sound out of pain.

"Holy shit, you really are basically powerless." Shigaraki cackled, his voice ragged and hoarse. Letting go of your horn, he circled the bed taking in the sight of your naked body, a bulge straining his pants already. "That's right, you are nothing but a cow with massive, lewd tits. Who the hell gave you the genius idea of becoming a hero, huh?"

The pained, fearful expression on your face did not match the bravery in your voice. "That's not true, I help people, that's what matters!" You pulled your arms again, the shackles still held you down without sign of giving out. Shigaraki laughed again, a horrible sound that sent shivers down your spine, tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you did your best not to let those tears fall.

"That's real funny, honestly. You should be aware that you're only popular because people love cute animal girls with big tits like you. Admit that you're just a joke, you dumb bitch."

His words stung, pierced your heart until it bled, yet you refused to believe him, refused to let him break you down.

"That's not true, I—"

"I'm the same as them though, as soon as I saw you on the news running around in a tight outfit like some fanservice bait, I knew what I wanted to do with you." He completely ignored you, continuing his cruel speech, his face twisted in a expression of pure sadistic lust.

"Make you mine."

Shigaraki was quickly then getting on the bed. You squirmed and raised your leg to try kicking him off, but he caught you by the ankle. Squeezing down the frail joint, he held you with four fingers, fifth digit almost gracing your skin mockingly. You froze, terrified that he was going to turn you into dust, realizing how powerless you indeed were in that moment.

"If I were you, I'd behave like a good girl, and maybe you'll get out of this alive." Dangling hope above your head like that was so cruel. "I know your fat tits are probably way bigger than your brain, but I'm sure even you can understand what I'm saying."

True to that statement, in that instant you almost understood that there was no salvation, and it felt like enlightenment. Your little ears flopped down, broken hearted, a small moo resonated from your throat.

Shigaraki let go of your ankle and, sensing no more resistance from you, the villain was crawling on top of you and crushing you under his weight. The first thing he did then, was to bury his face in between your ample cleavage. You heard him groan against your chest, the tip of his clothed cock rutting against your naked pussy. Shigaraki's hands gropped the soft flesh to squeeze your breasts against the sides of his face, making them jiggle and bounce. You whimpered at the painful stimulation on your sensitive breasts, squirming as your tail swayed around to signal your distress.

Looking up, he growled against your skin. "These slutty tits are so lewd, you should've tried your luck in adult videos instead of playing hero, dumb cow." His breath tickled your skin, it was scorching hot.

"I've always wondered if you got any milk in these jugs." He squeezed your breasts again, a lot harder, that you bit your lip trying not to cry out loud. Your attempt only seemed to amuse the villain.

"Guess I have to find out."

And before you could process the implications, his mouth was already latched to one of your nipples. His lips engulfed the hard nub as he sucked hard, cheeks hollowing like a vacuum around your nipple. You screamed, the stimulation too strong to hold it in anymore, but he wasn't satisfied at all yet. Shigaraki kept sucking, hand massing and squeezing your breasts until you were a whimpering mess and the sweet taste of milk was finally on his tongue.

"Moohhh~!!"

The moans echoed in the room as milk from your tits squirted into Shigaraki's greedy mouth, and he suckled hungrily, drinking up the liquid. You had milked yourself before out of need, when your breasts became too swollen as a side effect of your quirk, but this was the first time someone else had squeezed the milk out of you. It was like your entire body was on fire. A feverish pitch that was making your head spin, the heat soon pooling at your stomach, thighs rubbing together, the wetness that had started leaking out of your hole before you even realized.

When Shigaraki pulled away from your abused nipple, his spit and your milk mixed together as they dribbled down your skin. You felt filthy, but the lewd sight made Shigaraki more excited than ever.

"Fuck, I can't wait anymore." He hissed through his teeth, pulling back to free his aching erection from the tightness of his pants. You couldn't help gawking at the sight of him, thick cock swollen and impossibly hard, supple head almost purple with a bead of white precum smeared on the tip.

"Wait, please..." You shook your head, begging with your eyes and words for a shred of compassion. Of course, you found none. "Please..."

"That's right, keep begging."

Grabbing the back of your knees, Shigaraki pushed your legs against your chest, breasts spilling between them. He positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance before burying his length all the way to the hilt into your pussy.

You screamed, and mooed, the feeling of being so full was something beyond simply good or bad, it was absolutely maddening, like your pussy had been always meant for that purpose.

Your velvety walls sucked him in, squeezed around him as you adjusted to the size and Shigaraki was cussing, barely remembering to hold your legs with only four fingers as he started thrusting in and out you. "Fuck, so tight...shit..." That small crack in his power, and it almost felt like the smallest of victories in a war you had already lost.

Because the better he felt inside you, the harder he thrusted, until the tip of his cock was hitting the entrance of your cervix, making your toes curl and a certain pressure to knot on your stomach, a build up that was threatening to break your mind.

"I'm gonna give you a nice creampie," He laughed, looking down at you with those red, evil eyes. "I'll breed you like the cow you are, so don't waste a single drop!"

You mooed, feeling yourself overwhelmed by your own orgasm that his words barely registered in your brain. More milk squirted from your tits as your pussy clenched down on Shigaraki's cock, choking his dick in a grip so tight like it wanted his seed just as bad.

"Fuck!!"

He was cumming hard into your pussy, cock throbbing as sticky semen poured into your womb in copious amounts, filling you up with his seed until you were completely stuffed with cum.

A sudden beam of light hit you in the face, the door of the room had been open and the smell of smoke and fire filled your nostrils. You were barely conscious to see properly who it was, only caught the glimpse of black hair.

"Don't you know how to knock?"

"Oops, my bad." You heard his voice, dark and hoarse. "I just felt a weird, sudden craving for milk."

"Right, of course you did."

You could almost hear the smirks on their faces.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tw noncon #tw humiliation #tw dubcon #tw kidnapping #shigaraki thirst

578 notes · View notes

mycrofts-gunbrella · 4 years ago

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Part 3 (Mycroft Holmes x Reader)

AN- Thank you for the patience for this one! My little boy has been unwell so it has taken a little longer than I had hoped but here is the third instalment! It’s a little shorter than the others but that’s because I wanted to contain the angsty part in one chapter, the next ones will hopefully be longer..

This one is a little more angsty, a lot more emotional, but I’m quite happy with the outcome and I hope you are too! As usual, please let me know any thoughts/feedback! And enjoy!

Word Count: 2510

"Is it just me that finds Stephen Fry a bit.. sexy?" You spoke, watching the television as Young Ones' Scumbag College competed on University Challenge. "I don't know what it is about him. He's just.. got such a lovely voice, and he's so sodding clever and his CLOTHES- got much better looking with age, mind." Mycroft only hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

"Hmm.. He's not really my type." You laughed and petted his head fondly.

"You don't have to be gay to find another man attractive Myc." You mused. "Me and Greg talk about it all the time, though he fancies Hugh Laurie more, especially in Blackadder." You laughed, thinking back on the memory of Greg's fondness of George in the Blackadder Goes Forth series.

"I'm aware that sexuality and attraction are not the same, Y/N. I am comfortable enough in my own heterosexuality to appreciate another man's features. In fact, I very much agree with Gregory's view on Mr Laurie. Stephen, however, is not my type. The few people that did speak to me in University used to tell me I reminded them of him in the way I behaved but, and I quote, 'without even a lick of his humour, you miserable bastard.' Thus, I cannot look at him in that way." He laughed a little and you cleared your throat.

"Oh.. uh, yeah I guess that makes sense. Not the humour part though, you're actually hilarious and they missed out big time." You tried to avoid the point where you'd deemed Stephen Fry sexy in every way he was similar to the man who was laying in your lap, and just hoped he wouldn't bring that up.

"He definitely got the looks side of things though, particularly as General Melchett in Goes Forth, though I am not particularly fond of the facial hair." He screwed up his nose in distaste, you fighting every ounce of your control to not say he looked a bit cute. "And certainly didn't have the waistline that 21 year old Mycroft had."

"Speaking in the third person now, are we? Well, Mycroft, Y/N is comfortable enough in her friendship that Y/N thinks Mycroft can be sexy in his own ways too." You teased, partly embarrassed, but equally just trying any way to improve the man's confidence, even by a little. Mycroft choked a little on his own saliva and had to sit up to regain his own breath. Too far? "Sorry." He shook his head 'no' but didn't speak. In his moments of regaining his composure, Mycroft watched you. Processed in his head what you had said- 'was it a joke?', he couldn't read anything on you that would suggest that, though his eyes were glassy from the choking- watched as you panicked, then subsiding the panic to concern as you made sure he was okay. All these things, he thought, he didn't deserve. He took a deep breath and reached for the television remote, pausing the show and settling back on the other side of the sofa. It had to be done now. Done while his brain was allowing it, before he got attached... before he got attached even more. He couldn't keep pretending it was okay, keep accepting your compliments and your kindness, couldn't allow himself to go any further in his.. attraction?

It was always unspoken between the two of you- your not so subtle hints to Mycroft over the last few years hadn't got unnoticed, Mycroft would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he felt the same way, though this was perhaps the most open you had been; he would always put it off, try to think of reasons why you shouldn't be more than whatever you are now- most of the time it circles back to work, your busy schedule at the Yard and his unpredictable working hours mostly, saying to himself that it would simply be pointless, that you wouldn't see each other. But he knew that was a lie- you see him as often as you can, even if it's just for an hour on lunch, and everyone knows he would do his best to move empires to have you over for dinner had it been a while, quite literally actually.

Then there was age, you were in your mid-to-late twenties, he in his forties, though that argument also fell flat after you had mentioned your last long term relationship had been with a man your elder, amongst many of your interests in celebrity males that you had mentioned being closer to his age than yours- and, on his behalf, it was usual for a Politician to walk into formal dinners with a younger woman on arm. In the end, it all went back to the real reason Mycroft put everything off, a reason he hated admitting to even himself. Mycroft was scared.

Having been the age he is with no sexual experience, no previous relationships, and not even many friendships, he was terrified he would humiliate himself and you would leave him completely. You were both adults, both clever, you both knew there was always 'something' there, but without you ever acting upon it, Mycroft decided to live his life keeping you as a friend rather than risk not having you at all. He felt guilty enough having you here anyway. He couldn't allow you to keep stroking his hair like that, or letting you sleep in his bed with him, hold him as he snored, when it was for completely other desires in his own mind, not without speaking to you. No, that wouldn't be fair- even if he didn't fully understand everything himself and was still incredibly scared. You needed to know the truth, about everything, and, if there were the slightest chance you'd forgive him, he had decided he couldn't wait any longer, couldn't put it off anymore, he wanted you to carry on doing those things, wanted to continue the nights you would stay in his bed. But Mycroft wanted it to change, he wanted to be able to start the night with a ghost of his hand on your hip, without waiting until you were asleep to bring himself to have that courage, to wake up next to you and not feel the awkward need to move so soon, just to stay a little longer. Christ, Mycroft wanted every cliché in the book with you, and it took him until yesterday to realise how much he wanted that, after nearly losing you. And he needed you to know, even if it risked it all.

"Y/N I-"

"I know, I'm sorry, I took it too far I was just messing about.. Not that I didn't mean it, I wasn't joking about you.. You are very attractive, but it was inappropriate.. I shouldn't have said it.. I just wanted to help.. though I don't think it did, might have made it worse, actually.. Didn't want to say anything and let you find out.. like that.. not that it matters.. because I AM happy JUST being your friend, over the moon, actually.. so I don't want you to think I ruined that... Because I know you don't feel.. like that.. and you're not saying anything which is scaring me a little because you're always talking.. Not that I don't like that.. I love you talking to me, you've got a lovely voice.. and.. and I'm going to shut up again.. sorry.. again.." You rambled, a lot, too much.. far too much. Mycroft tried to process everything, his eyes closing at every word. You were making this so much harder for him, admitting everything like that. Mycroft hunched forward in his position and braced his elbows on his knees, index and middle finger of each hand holding the weight of his head by his temples.

"No just.. Just stop talking for a moment." Mycroft snapped, cutting you off as your mouth opened to speak a little, the small jump back made his gaze soften. "Please." He spoke softer, apologetic. "I can't.. talk about that.. not yet. Not until you know.." You went to speak again but his head tilted, eyes containing a rare glaze of vulnerability, trying to stay in contact with your own but constantly dropping back to his lap- a silent plea to stay quiet, be patient and just give him a moment. And you did. Turning your body completely sideways, you crossed your legs on the sofa, hands resting folded in your lap as you encouraged him to continue with a brief nod of your head. "I fear if I don't tell you of yesterday's happenings in this very moment that I never shall, and that is far too selfish, even of me." He took a deep breath in. "But I just.. need a moment. A few, likely, throughout." You nodded your head again.

From there, Mycroft began to explain everything that had happened, told you of his sister, where she had taken him, Sherlock and John, what she spoke about, what she tried to get them to do. His voice cracked every so often, knuckles whitened as his fists clenches, creases formed in his trousers where he squeezed his hand on them, but you listened to every word and stayed silent- eyes welling with small tears. Mycroft spoke of the screen, told you of the snipers that were out there, targeting Ms Hudson and Molly. Your body stiffened as he added Lestrade to the list, feeling your throat tighten a little at the mere thought of losing Greg. Mycroft pressed on, told you about how Eurus tried to make Sherlock choose between him and John, told you how he'd tried to convince Sherlock to just shoot him, how Sherlock refused and threatened to shoot himself. His voice went breathless at the end of that, the idea of losing his brother so easily still fresh in his mind. You loosened your sitting position and leaned over, taking Mycroft's hand in your own and squeezing. He sighed again and closed his eyes.

"Please, don't." He whispered, trying to fold his hand into a fist to escape your embrace. You didn't let go and offered your other hand on his back in support as you watched a stray tear fall down his cheek. "I said don't!" He shouted, moving from your touch and standing up from the sofa, beginning to pace as his face contorted into more pain, another tear following the path of the last. You sat back, watched him, didn't take the anger to heart. "It was my fault! All of it!" He ran his hands through his hair and tugged, moving them after to wipe the droplets from his cheek.

"Myc it's ok-"

"It isn't okay Y/N! No part of any of this is even remotely close to okay!" He stilled now, posture going back rigid as he looked at you, eyes bloodshot and glassy. He told you of his Birthday present to Eurus- five unsupervised minutes with Moriarty- and started his pacing again. "A man died yesterday because of me. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly. They all almost died yesterday. You almost... you almost died yesterday." His breath hitched again, lip softly quivering at the end of his words. You tensed a little and frowned, confused and urging him to elaborate. "They weren't the only people on the screens, not the only ones with a red dot on their heads, Y/N." Gaze avoiding you now, turned completely to face the wall rather than look at you at all- giving him a chance to compose himself, steadying his voice. "I saw you, you were happy, just dancing and making tea, but at any moment you could have... and it would have been my fault. And I know I should have told you yesterday, it was selfish of me using you the way that I have without letting you know everything. You could have been gone before I could tell you everything, before I could explain how I feel about you, and it all came rushing to me the moment I saw your face on that screen. I’m so sorry, for everything, for ignoring everything, for being the reason you almost-" The last thing Mycroft had expected was the feeling of arms around his waist, the feeling of a head resting between his shoulder blades, soaking the shirt with tears. You sniffed, holding onto him tighter as you cried into his back.

"It's okay Mycroft." You spoke, voice croaking from tears. "They're okay.. I'm okay. And you're going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere." The relief Mycroft felt from your words ran through his body as he slumped a little, left hand holding on to where yours joined on his stomach, his right lifting to his eyes where, in a very rare moment, he allowed himself to weep.

***

Neither of you were too sure on how long you stayed like that, Mycroft being held in your arms as he quietly cried into his hand, you into his back, but it was long enough that your feet were beginning to ache and Mycroft had become silent a short while ago. You attempted to loosen your grip but Mycroft quickly grabbed back at your hands, holding them to him again. You changed your tactic and instead circled round until your hands remained together on his back, you now at his front and you gave him one last squeeze before guiding him backwards to the sofa, taking your place next to him but keeping your arms around him.

"I'm sorry." His voice was broken, quieter than usual. You shook your head and fought the urge to cry again.

"Don't." You spoke, sliding a hand down to hold his own that rested on his thigh. "Don't apologise Myc. You didn't do anything on purpose, you were just trying to be a good person.. a good brother. We're both still alive. Sherlock, John, Greg, Ms Hudson, Molly, they're all fine, and I have no doubt that it was partly due to you that they are still okay- whatever the three of you did in there, it worked, and that's all that matters to me." Mycroft shifted, his eyes finding yours once more, scanning, searching, trying to find anything that showed you were lying, that you didn't trust him anymore, but he couldn't find anything.

"But I-" You placed a hand at the back of his neck and leaned forward slightly, your lips meeting his briefly for a few seconds before pulling back. It wasn't desperate, or longing, or out of lust- it was everything Mycroft needed. Everything that let him know that you weren't going anywhere, that you still wanted to be around him, to be with him. He relaxed but didn't speak, his hand beneath yours just turning to allow your fingers to lace together as he let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. You rested your head against his shoulder, smiling softly as you felt his own rest atop yours before falling into a comfortable silence.

#mycroft #Mycroft Holmes #bbc mycroft #bbc mycroft holmes #mycroft x reader #bbc sherlock #reader insert #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x reader smut

214 notes · View notes

yoonpobs · 4 years ago

Text

difficult | myg

pairing: min yoongi x oc

genre: fluff, mini angst, super cute, mutual pining

words: 3, 812

summary: you're difficult and yoongi just wants you

“I can’t believe it,” Jimin whistles. Taehyung mirrors his sentiment but with a look of disbelief.

“Me neither. But here we are.” Taehyung states matter-of-factly.

You were silent, not because you had nothing to say—but because you couldn’t believe it either. How did you allow yourself to fall into this trap? A trap you’ve spent your entire life training to avoid. And you would consider yourself someone that was dedicated to their craft and you truly were. But you were still susceptible to guilty pleasures and you just found your match.

“Why is no one stopping me? Why isn’t anyone telling me to get a grip of myself?” You cry.

Jimin looks at you sympathetically even if he knows that you hated being pitied. Taehyung at least avoids your gaze but the tell-tale signs of a frown appear on his face when you see the furrow of his brows.

“You know … you’re allowed to feel this way, right?” Jimin says carefully and you were more annoyed with the fact that he was walking on eggshells with you when you’ve long passed that stage of prudent navigation around each other. And you knew exactly why he sounded the way he did.

“I’m not. I’m supposed to be an impenetrable fortress that cannot be shaken by anything let alone anyone. I am an unyielding, resolute woman that refuses to be tied down by society’s narratives.” You say all at once.

Jimin and Taehyung blink at you. They expected this—but it still surprised them that you vocalised their thoughts.

Jimin clears his throat.

“Let me rephrase that,” He says sternly, “You’re allowed to feel, period.”

You shake your head because you’ve fallen too far—too hard. And you needed to get a grip of yourself because you didn’t work hard perfecting the flawless expression of bitchiness and temptation to be taken seriously amongst a Board of Directors filled with men. People like you couldn’t afford to feel.

Especially when the world never feels for you. For women.

“Do you hear yourself Jimin?” You exasperate as you throw your hands in the air in frustration.

“____—” Taehyung attempts to reason with you, but as always, you never let him get a word in. He knows you don’t mean any malice because you’ve built your walls so high that you think everyone is out to get you—but he just cares about you. He wishes you’d let him.

“No. You don’t understand guys. People like me? We—I—can’t afford to slack off. Not now and not anytime soon. I hear you guys and I wish I could understand where you’re coming from but frankly, I won’t ever be able to. You have the liberty of picking your battles because this world is yours. I had to fight my battles on my own to claim this world as my own and I’m nowhere near deserving of that role yet. I can’t feel.”

Their eyes soften at you and you avoid their gazes. You didn’t want their pity, and you didn’t want to sit in a tight office with their stares so heavy on your own.

“You deserve to be happy,” Taehyung says sadly.

You don’t respond, but you hear the chairs in front of your desk move against the hardwood floor. Then, you hear the opening and closing of your doors and you’re finally alone. Like how you do best.

You don’t allow another thought as insignificant as the one that threatens to overtake you to pass through your mind as you quickly tend to your pending projects.

The name of a certain man lingers very vaguely, though.

It annoys yet terrifies you how much you needed to consciously play your cards just right when you step into another board meeting. You thrived when you spoke at the podium, and no man—even the most bigoted—could deny that you were a born leader. But that didn’t mean that they liked that fact. In fact, most of them despised the idea that a woman as young as you was even allowed in the same room as they were. You wished you could yell at them, cry and shout until they understood that you were deserving.

You couldn’t, for very obvious reasons. But until you could—you needed to be smart.

“Mr Lee, with all due respect—liquifying the compartment company will not bring us the projected profit that you’ve pitched in the previous meeting.”

You’re level-headed and cool when you attempt to reason with the older and very stubborn man. He was old, and stubborn, which was never good news for you.

Mr Lee, the Chairman’s younger brother, simply scoffs at you, and you try your best not to let your eye twitch.

“What? Do you have a bachelor’s degree in business?” He sneers.

You blink.

“I have a double Masters in Business Administration and Finance.”

Mr Lee stiffens, and you briefly see Seokjin, the fellow nephew of Mr Kim, holding back his snorts at your declaration.

“I am qualified to be making this statement, and if you don’t believe in just words—which you really shouldn’t—here are the documents and projections from my end.” You distribute the analysis you took upon yourself to complete over the weekend and worked overtime to finish it as you handed it around the table.

Mr Kim, the Chairman, who was a far better man than everyone else in the Board of Directors, offers you an impressed smile as he flips through your booklet while you stand straight with your shoulders rolled back. A stance you often took to show that you knew your shit.

“This is very … meticulous. Great work as always, ___.” Mr Kim compliments you.

You don’t let it show on your face but you’re pleased with the way Mr Lee grumbles under his breath like a petulant child.

“Very well. We’ll keep the compartment company as it is,” Mr Kim declares and everyone else in the room shuffles to collect their belongings as the meeting comes to an end, “Meeting adjourned.”

“You’re absolutely badass,” Jin whistles at you as you walk side-by-side, your folders snug against your chest.

You hide your smile but acknowledge it regardless.

“And you were … there. As usual.”

He snorts and you know he gets where you’re coming from. Jin was simply present at the meeting but he wasn’t actually present. His heart had no place in the business world but instead in a world filled with fine dining and diverse cuisines as he worked up a storm in the kitchen. But as every father—who is the Chairman of a country’s largest exporter—he had pushed that dream onto Jin from a young age.

But Jin was Jin, and you knew Mr Kim simply kept him here for the sake of it; fully aware of his son’s aspirations and determination of becoming a chef.

“You should just take my position. You’re so good at business talk—I didn’t understand half the shit you were saying the entire time.” He says.

You shrug.

“I mean, that’s the goal. But let’s just see for now,” You hum as you reach your office, and you still when you see the person waiting for you inside.

Jin takes a peek over your shoulder and spots the same person who has you looking so tense. He whistles at you as he stuffs his right hand in his pocket while offering you a consoling pat on your shoulder with his left before he stalks off.

“Good luck!” He calls out, and you internally groan at the oncoming interaction.

You brace yourself and put on a brave face as you step into your office, doors clicking, signalling your guest to turn around at the insinuation of your presence.

“Mr Min, what can I help you with?” You don’t look at him when you place your belongings on your table and you nearly miss his scoff with the way you attempt to busy yourself with any mindless activity that you can find on your desk.

“Mr Min? Not Yoongi anymore?”

You ignore his bitter tone and look at him with a reserved stare, raising an eyebrow as if to question his statement.

“Are we not co-workers?” You reply coolly and he scoffs much louder for you to hear.

“Co-workers … yeah,” He shrugs, leaning forward, “Do you usually kiss your co-workers?”

You are still at the sudden declaration and nearly drop the pen that was in your grip. He’s suddenly inches closer to you despite the relative distance of your desk between the both of you. You try to ignore the heat of his body, but it’s entirely too suffocating for you to pretend like he isn’t there.

“Don’t give me that nonsense,” You wave him off and you steady your voice because you weren’t ready for him to see you break. You allowed yourself too much space to be vulnerable and you needed to stop.

He sits back into the chair and folds his arms across his chest with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, this is not what we’re going to do.” He says, suddenly much firmer than he was a moment ago.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, clearly confused.

“None of this detached, emotionless attitude with me. I see through this facade and it’s not cute. You’re going to speak to me like an adult and address the very obvious feelings you have for me, and likewise. You’re not allowed to deflect like you always do because I expect you to be honest with me because you’re clearly not being honest to yourself.”

You blink up at him and your heart starts beating more rapidly within your chest as it betrays your stoic appearance.

Maybe that was why you fell for Yoongi in the first place. He didn’t tolerate you. Specifically, the shit that you pull on him. You were well aware you were a stubborn, hard-headed bitch that could be emotionally reserved 99% of the time when you interacted with others. And sometimes your bitchiness was uncalled for, but most people were too terrified to say anything about it to your face.

Yoongi?

He had no problems letting you know what he expected from you and how he thought of you from the beginning. It should’ve irked you. Based on your strict line of principles that you upheld—a man projecting his own thoughts of you that he had in his head, directly to you, should’ve been dehumanising, disrespectful even. But you never got that from Yoongi. He was brutally honest. And you appreciate honesty.

But sometimes it made you squirm.

“I … sorry, what? Are you insane? I don’t have feelings for you.” You narrow your eyes at him and hope you sound convincing enough.

But you knew Yoongi well enough to know that he saw through your blatant lie.

“I said: don’t deflect. You’re deflecting.” He scolds.

“You’re being unnecessarily distasteful right now,” You roll your eyes.

“Am I? Or am I just telling you the truth that you’ve been trying to deny for the past week that you’ve been cowardly avoiding me?” He’s calm when he makes the accusation. And it wasn’t even an accusation because it was the plain truth.

You burn, both in anger and in humiliation.

“What do you know about me Yoongi? Aren’t I just the company’s hot-headed bitch?” You snap, remembering the first words you heard from Yoongi.

“You are a hot-headed bitch, and I know you’re scared of admitting that you have feelings for me because you think feeling makes you weak.”

You ignore the fact that he admitted that you were a bitch, but Yoongi wasn’t the type to lie, nor was he the type to kiss ass. And you hated that he was still brutally honest, even when speaking about a topic so … intimate.

“Look, I don’t know where you’re getting this information from but you need to leave.” You stand up to walk towards the door so you could open it for him but he grabs your wrist before you make it there.

He turns you around to look at him. Properly look at him, that is. You’ve been avoiding direct eye contact with him because as good of a front you’ve worked on to put in front of him, you were human. And as a human, you were bound to have a weakness.

“You don’t get to walk away from me—this conversation—because you hate confrontation,” He frowns at you and you turn away to avoid his heavy gaze.

“Yoongi, can we not do this?” You sigh.

He chuckles dryly, using his right hand to nudge your face to look at him. It should’ve been demeaning, but you felt nothing like you were disrespected. You hated to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot more than you’d admit to anyone.

“No. We’re doing this. You’re going to address your feelings for me and actually work for what you want—and that’s clearly this,” He gestures between the two of you and you glare up at him.

“I told you! I don’t have any feelings for you.” You snarl at him, teeth bared like an animal but he just laughs at you like you were pathetic. You hated how small you felt in his presence but yet you were still whole.

“You don’t kiss a person you don’t have feelings for—you don’t hold someone you don’t have feelings for like they’re your safe space. You don’t have feelings for me? That’s funny because you did all of those things and you’ve never once complained when I reciprocated.”

You fumble with your words as the tip of your ears burn a bright red, which Yoongi easily catches.

“You don’t turn into a tomato if I was lying to you. You’re not like that, right? You’re self-assured. Ms-I’m-An-Impenetrable-Fortress,” He mocks.

“S-Stop acting as if you know me, Yoongi. You don’t and you never will.” You struggle against his grip on your wrist but he simply tugs you closer until your faces are inches apart.

“I don’t?” He scoffs, “Then tell me, why do I know that you confide Jimin and Taehyung for advice but never take it anyway because you’re too damn stubborn?”

You were about to retort but he’s quicker with his response.

“Then tell me, why do I know that you walk with your head held high into meetings but exit with your tail tucked between your legs because you’re afraid of sounding too dumb, too incompetent?”

You freeze.

“Then tell me, why do I know that you pull away from people not because you’re repulsed by them but because you’re afraid of forming actual bonds in the fear of being abandoned?”

You internally curse when you fear your eyes burning, and the lump in your throat becoming too much to bear.

“Then tell me, ___, why do I know you feel the same way about me but you’re too scared of looking dependent to do anything about it?” He whispers the last part when he pulls you tight against his chest.

You don’t fight him anymore, and you relax into the firm expanse of his chest and it terrifies you that it feels so much like home. A warm space you find comfort in.

You don’t even realise the first tear escapes your eyes until you feel Yoongi’s dress shirt turn slightly damp under the skin of your cheek. You’re mortified when you realise you’re crying and you attempt to pull away but his hands find their way around your waist to hold you tight.

“Don’t,” He whispers, “Don’t pull away from me.”

“Yoongi … I-I can’t,” You stutter, voice shaky.

He wipes a thumb on your cheek to wipe away the continuous stream of tears that you don’t bother hiding from him anymore.

“I worked my ass off to be taken seriously here and—and … if I get a boyfriend they’re going to think that I’m reliant, I’m weak, dependent on a man.” You ramble, but he just listens to your nonsensical statement as he rubs soothing circles on your head.

“I want you to rely on me, to depend on me. Stop thinking that you need to fight your battles alone. I’m here—I’ll be here. I’ve always been here but you need to let me be there for you.” He says softly.

You peer up at him with swollen eyes and he thinks you look beautiful. You always were beautiful. When you were commanding a meeting; when you were focused when you were angry; when you were laughing, and when you were sad. He was in for all of it.

“But ... the Board of Directors—”

He shushes you with a light kiss to the corner of your lip and you feel your stale heart flutter.

“I’m not here to be your saviour. I’m here to be your equal. I want to help you as much as you’ll help me. And believe me when I say you’ve helped me. The Board of Directors? Relationship or no relationship, they’ll be the same bigots that unfortunately dictate the policies in this company. The only person that has the ability to change anything in this situation is you ___.”

You feel your resolve breaking but you should’ve known that you’ve never had any resolve when it came to Yoongi. You were always weak around him. And maybe you needed to start accepting the fact that you were allowed to feel weak, to feel dependent on someone.

“What if you leave me.” You whine.

He snorts before rubbing a thumb between your furrowed brows.

“Then I leave. But we don’t know what’s going to happen if we don’t try,” He says and you realise how close he’s gotten to you to the point you feel his breath on your lips.

“That’s not comforting to hear the slightest,” You complain.

“And nothing about a relationship is easy. But I’m willing to be with you. I’ve always been ready—it’s you that needs to make the decision, ___.”

You finally lock eyes with him and you see nothing but sincerity. Yoongi could be crass, and often mistaken as a dick. But he was just honourable. He wouldn’t lie to anyone or sugarcoat the difficult truth. In fact, he never made you feel inferior to him even when he was straightforward. He never treated you differently because you were terrifying—but he treated you how he would with anyone else. And that was comforting. While everyone else walked on eggshells with you, he was fearless with his declarations.

Even now.

“I like you. I have no qualms in admitting it. And I’ll say it over and over again until you believe me,”

You don’t reply but kiss him. And there are no explosive fireworks, and time still flows—but it feels familiar. It feels like a territory that you’ve known all along, a little rough around the edges with the time spent away, but a place you can allude to comfort.

He responds by licking into the seam of your mouth as you allow his tongue to lick behind your teeth, a small whine caught in the back of your throat as you card your fingers through his hair. The hands-on your waist presses you tighter, flush against his body.

He pulls away first, resting his forehead on your own.

“I need to hear you say it. None of this tip-toeing anymore.”

You offer him a small smile.

“I-I …”

He watches you stutter with a hooded gaze but nothing about his stare makes you feel pressured. It was more comforting than anything, and the way he still held onto you like you mattered—but weren’t fragile—allowed you some semblance of peace in retaining your identity. This arbitrary idea of what you thought you were and how people perceived you. It was difficult to unlearn an idea that felt very personal to you after years of mastering its art.

You’re still unsure of how to react but you’re so sure of how you feel.

“I like you. I-I want to try.” You wail.

He’s alarmed by the sudden change in tone from your end and at the way you tug at the collars of his shirt. Not aggressively, but a little desperate. Not in the way that’d make him scrunch his nose in distaste but in a way that told him that this was you being vulnerable. Being open.

He wipes at your cheeks with dried tears and looks at you so honestly that it scares you. But in a way, you were fearless because you were terrified of everything. Mostly of disappointing others who held you to such a high standard, but it was a valid fear regardless.

“I’m not some fragile woman that you need to fix and I want you to understand that,” You pull yourself together and tell him sternly. He listens because Yoongi has never been presumptuous.

“I’m my own person and I won’t change the way I act to be with you—and if you’re looking for a cute … dainty, soft girlfriend then…” You whisper, “That’s not me. I’m tough. I’m a bitch and I’m stubborn. Our arguments are going to suck because I have a response for literally everything so—!”

He shushes your rambling with a finger to your lips and a raised eyebrow. You pout at him under his finger and he finds you adorable. He decides to not say anything to preserve his head—but soon. He’ll tell you soon.

“Are you done?”

You huff under his finger but he looks at you fondly.

“I’m not one for normality. I don’t care about what you think I’m into because I know that I’m into you. I’m in this, ___. Stop thinking that I deserve some idealistic image of a woman that you have in your head. I want you, and I thought me coming here to speak to you about your feelings was a clear testament to that.”

You try to hide your blush but you fail.

“And stop being so conscious of how you act around me. Be tough. Be independent. But don’t be afraid to be cute and vulnerable too, okay? I like you in all ways that you decide to present yourself in. Just … trust me. Trust this.”

“Okay.” You nod.

He grins at you.

“Does that mean I can hold your hand on the way to work?” He teases.

You avoid his eyes and look to the side, but the slight curve of your lip gives your answer to that question away.

“I guess …” You mutter.

He hugs you closer and squeezes you until your feet leave the ground. He tackles you with kisses all over your face and you can’t help but giggle. You feel happy. You feel secure.

“Cutie.”

You deliver a smack to his chest but he just laughs.

#bts fic #bts imagine #bts fics #bts imagines #bts #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi #yoongi imagine #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi fic #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi x reader

348 notes · View notes

butwhyduh · 4 years ago

Text

Holiday Party

Damian Wayne x reader

He’s about 16 yrs old here.

Warning: Christmas? Kissing

Christmas series 4

You were early. Damian looked out his door to see no one around and he rushed downstairs to meet you at the door. You were being dropped off by your older brother who gave Damian a look from the front seat of his car that all but said he’d mess Damian up if he hurt you. Funny to think about your brother trying to beat him up but he would never consider it. Damian opened your car door for you.

“Beloved, you’re early,” he said with a grin. Your brother gave a rough hey and Damian’s face dropped and he gave a curt nod. “I’ll have Alfred drop her off so you won’t have to pick her up,” Damian told him. Your brother nodded again before leaving.

Damian barely held your finger with his own as he walked you up to his room. He didn’t want his brothers to see him being affectionate. He pulled you into his room and engulfed you in a huge hug. He wasn’t short little Dami anymore but had been hit by puberty like a bus and was almost 6 foot tall. He smelled like cologne and his sweater was so freaking soft. You felt the fabric on his chest with your hand and he stiffened and coughed a little. Oh yeah, he could feel that. You flushed.

“So you want to watch a movie?” Damian said pulling away.

“Yeah. Sounds great,” you said sitting on his bed pulling your shoes off. You slid up the bed to lay on his pillow as he grabbed his laptop.

“Drake doesn’t know but I’ve set it up that every film he downloads, I get a copy too so I’ve got a bunch. Though his taste is pretty sappy for some of these,” Damian said wrinkling his nose.

“Probably to watch with his girlfriend. Or maybe he’s a sap,” you laughed. Damian climbed on the bed and laid the laptop on the other side of you. His arms temporarily caged you against him and you couldn’t help but think of him on top of you. Damian laid back as the film started playing. He put two pillows behind his head to watch from behind you. You laid on your side and he wrapped an arm around your waist loosely.

The film was probably great. All you could think of was how close your boyfriend in the softest boyfriend sweater was right beside you. You slid farther back until your back hit his chest. He inhaled audibly but didn’t move. Damian cursed himself. You had definitely heard that.

You ran your hand along the arm of his sweater as the movie went on. He smelled a little like soft cologne and spiced tea. Everything was fine until there was a sex scene. Nothing graphic but enough to where you were both very aware of your situation. Damian slid his body a little back from you making a little space between you and him.

You turned to look at him and he couldn’t help but brush his lips against yours. You slowly turned in his arms until you were making out while laying on your side. Damian held your face softly with one hand. Your fingers slid into his hair. His tongue slipped into your mouth gently just exploring you.

The door to his room opened.

“Master Damian, your father needs you in his study at your earliest convenience. Also... do take care with your visitors. You are only 16,” Alfred said, looking pointedly at the ceiling before leaving. Damian flushed on his tan skin. you covered your mouth and giggled, embarrassed.

“At least it wasn’t your dad,” you said. He nodded as he stood up.

“I won’t be long. Just watch the movie and I’ll be back as quick as I can,” Damian said and you noted that his lips were pink and maybe even a little swollen from kissing.

“Yeah, no problem.”

It took all of 1.7 minutes for Bruce to notice his son’s lips. His eyes narrowed a little and he looked critically at Damian who was staring at the computer screen.

“Damian, you are of the age where sexual education is important. You are practicing safe sex, yes?” Bruce asked in an even tone as if almost casually but really he wanted to seem calm. Damian twisted so fast to look at his father.

“I am not,” he said quickly.

“You aren’t??” Bruce asked shocked. “That’s very dangerous-“

“I’m not having sex. At all,” Damian said completely red. Bruce calmed.

“None? Because condoms-“

“Father, I’ve been taught. And if I do have sex I will be safe but I’m not now,” Damian said. He refused to look anywhere but the screen. “How did Alfred tell you so fast?” He complained.

“Tell me? Is there something to tell me? You know what? Don’t answer that. I trust you. There is a bowl of condoms under the sink in the bathroom off my study. All of the boys use it and it stays full. No questions asked. And the family doctor is very discreet for any questions you might have,” Bruce said delicately.

“Okay. I got it. Thanks. But please stop. Tell me about the case,” Damian practically begged.

——————————

It was not a few minutes but a full 2 hours later that Damian came back to his room. You were asleep. A movie played in the background and you hug his pillow. Damian smiled a little before waking you. It was almost time for his brothers to arrive. You sat up quickly. You’d never fallen asleep at his place.

“Sorry I was so long. Family stuff,” he said vaguely. He did that all the time. “It’s almost time for the party.”

“Oh I need to get ready,” you sat up. You’d planned to get started a little earlier. You didn’t dress fancy around Damian; he didn’t care. But his family’s Christmas was fairly formal.

“Is this okay?” You asked 20 minutes later. Damian nodded with a little smile.

“You look beautiful in anything, beloved. But this is exceptional,” he said and you flushed. His way with words. “It’s time to go down stairs.”

Damian took your hand and you walked downstairs. His eyes lingered on you longer than necessary. Somehow Tim and his girlfriend and Duke had beat you both downstairs. Damian pulled out a chess board and Tim and Bruce once again dragged work into every room they entered.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Damian warned. He was far better at strategy but your moments on the board were incredibly erratic to the point that he couldn’t predict your next move.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else. If you did, I’d expect a body snatcher,” you said and he hazarded a small smile. Damian didn’t want to appear too pleased. Bruce was watching him while maintaining conversation. You understood his weird stoic family dynamic enough to ignore it.

Damian won 3 out of 4 games. You could admit that your win was more luck than skill but you took it. Dick and his girlfriend arrived and the party moved to the dining room.

After a few minutes, a man you had never seen showed up humming to introduce himself and his date. The butler seemed very happy and for a minute you wondered if it was his son. No, this was the mysterious brother who was always fighting with the family.

“Dami, who is that?” You asked whispering.

“Jason Todd, one of my father’s wards. And I suppose his girlfriend,” Damian said. You nodded and watched as they sat down. Later in the evening, the eldest, that Damian had even called his brother, proposed to his girlfriend.

You were given a small glass of champagne and you looked at it quietly. Did they forget you and Damian were 16? Not exactly legal. But you didn’t say anything and you both drank the tiny amount of alcohol with everyone else. Damian squeezed your hand and gave you a tiny smile.

The party moved to the parlor with a billiards table and a dart board on the wall. The adults were served more alcohol and pudding was served informally. A tasty sticky cake that you dare not asked the ingredients was quickly eaten. You and Damian sat on a loveseat in the corner where you could watch the others play billiards and other games. Tim and Jason played a heated game of 9 ball. Jason was a natural. Tim was all strategy.

You leaned against Damian’s shoulder as the storm raged outside. You were full and the room was warm.

“It’s far too dangerous to drive out tonight. It’s turned into a blizzard so you all will stay here. There are plenty of rooms and beds for everyone and anything you could need,” Bruce announced to the group. Jason sighed and Damian opened his mouth. “I’ll call her parents to let them know. Don’t worry Damian.”

Damian relaxed and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You began to doze as the pool games played. He ran his fingers along your outer arm and watched from the corner of his eyes as you fell asleep. He enjoyed your body warmth and soft sweet scent subtly.

An hour later you woke as you were slowly being moved. Strong arms cradled you and you could smell Damian’s pleasant unique scent strongly. You gripped his arm as he carried you out of the room. He hushed softly to let you go back to sleep.

“You got him shot?!” One of the women in the room yelped and you jolted awake.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, beloved. Don’t mind my stupid brothers,” Damian said quietly. He gently laid you on his bed and pulled you in the covers. His soft sheets quickly lulled you to sleep.

While you slept, he grabbed blankets and settled on the floor. Half an hour later, right as Damian was falling asleep, Bruce opened the door quietly. He saw the boy on the floor, nodded, and shut the door.

#fns #christmas series #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #robin x reader #dc #damian wayne imagine

544 notes · View notes

along-came-atsushi · 4 years ago

Text

The way Dazai protects Atsushi

When we imagine someone who is protective, mostly it is a person who bursts into a fit of rage or someone who heroically and willingly throws away their own life if it means to protect others. A good example for this would be Kunikida’s actions on several occasions. Dazai is less a person to obviously show rage or to heroically throw himself in front of someone.

Which doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care at all, it’s quite the contrary. And it’s sometimes very subtle and tricky, because he always has plans within plans and tries to achieve several goals with a single plan.

I will only focus here on Dazai’s actions that solely have to do with Atsushi. I’m not going to bring up every single hidden agenda or goal Dazai is also trying to achieve.

In addition, this post has been tagged as #Dazatsu just to be safe. But of course it can be read from a platonic POV.

Beware: Spoilers starting from chapter 83 and for 55 Minutes!

How Dazai gets Atsushi into the ADA

Dazai practically tricked and then it may seem like he pressured Atsushi into joining the ADA, even after Atsushi already said that he doesn’t want to join:

The reason for Atsushi’s refusal was not that he didn’t want to join, because he just simply didn’t want to join. But because he lacks the self-confidence in taking a task like this. He doesn’t believe in himself and his abilities and thinks he isn’t fit for the job. This lack of self-confidence together with the fact that Atsushi constantly gets pushed by either people around him or his circumstances to keep relying on himself rather than others runs like a red string through his story.

Dazai on the other hand sees a great potential in Atsushi. In the moment where Atsushi saved him from drowning, he already planned to team him up with Akutagawa. Not only because of their abilities and their compatibility in battle. But because Atsushi would be the person to “teach Akutagawa how to put that sword away”. In other words: to value life. Which is something that Dazai wasn’t able to teach Akutagawa (I covered this in another meta and won’t explain it here any further).

Another reason is that the things Dazai states above are simply the truth: If Atsushi doesn’t join, then there is nothing the ADA can do to help him (or it would be much harder and complicated for them). He needs to do everything a normal adult in society has to do, which is harder for Atsushi than other people, since he has been abruptly kicked out of his orphanage without any further help or assistance. Not to mention that he is perceived as a monster and not in control of his own ability, and therefore a wanted criminal and dangerous ability user. This could lead Atsushi in either getting killed or falling into the hands of other shady organizations who have far worse intentions for him. Saying the above is less Dazai trying to manipulate Atsushi and more him just telling what would happen and to be realistic.

Having Atsushi join the ADA for Dazai does not only help Atsushi to live a safer life and make it easier for Dazai to keep an eye out for him, but also to give Atsushi the chance to safe other people in the progress.

The Entrance Exam

Since Atsushi refused there was no way for Dazai to have him join the ADA the easy way and then only later testing if he really was worthy of being a true member. Just like it has been the case with Dazai’s entrance exam (Dazai freely joined the ADA after being recommended and was perceived as a new member immediately. Only during his first case with Kunikida was he secretly being tested of being worthy, which he succeeded). Therefore, a plan under a pretext was needed in order to test Atsushi and convince him to join.

During the ADA’s meeting for planning Atsushi’s entrance exam (which is told in the first part of the ‘Untold Story of the ADA’ novel) Dazai anticipated that Atsushi would either convince the bomber (played by Tanizaki) or somehow defuse the bomb himself. Neither of his predictions happened, instead Atsushi was willing to sacrifice himself so that he could protect others. This selfless action honestly surprised Dazai, which not many people are able to achieve, because he always predicts their actions:

Since it’s been hinted by Dazai that he already lost other people close to him in his life, even before Ango’s betrayal and Odasaku’s death, Atsushi’s action probably could’ve served as a trigger for him. He had to realize that there is a possibility that Atsushi would sacrifice himself to protect others. Especially since he doesn’t deem his own life as worthy and has been told many times to be useless and to “just die in a ditch somewhere.”

“Stalking” Higuchi

Dazai immediately recognized Higuchi to be a PM member and that she’s contacting the ADA under disguise for ulterior motives. The scene with Higuchi is a good example that Dazai does many things which either annoys other people (flirting with her) or are seen as him just being lazy and/or fooling around (listening to music and singing), while in reality he is already following a hidden plan.

Flirting with Higuchi distracts her and everyone else from Dazai slipping a wiretap in her jacket. It helps him to let everyone just act naturally without the possibility of revealing anything by accident. Furthermore, it makes people underestimate Dazai, because for everyone else he was just fooling around.

Due to the reason that the PM contacted the ADA under disguise as soon as Atsushi was their new member could have been already suspicious for Dazai, suspecting that it has something to do with Atsushi and was not just a regular attack on the ADA. Later on, this gets confirmed when it’s been stated that The Guild set a bounty on Atsushi for some reason.

Is Dazai following Atsushi around?

When Atsushi accompanies Ranpo on his murder case Dazai surprisingly shows up:

This meeting could be just a coincidence, of course. After all it’s just Dazai fooling around again (or in this case, trying to commit suicide again). But since the case with Higuchi has shown that Dazai loves to pretend to do something else, when he in reality is following a hidden agenda, it might be that he showed up there on purpose. Maybe just to see how Atsushi was faring and to eventually intervene if something serious would happen (like he did when Atsushi and Akutagawa were fighting for the first time). Especially with the PM on Atsushi’s tail now.

In chapter 84 it has been revealed that Dazai indeed does have an eye on Atsushi. When he can’t do that himself anymore, he makes sure to ask Akutagawa to keep an eye on him instead:

Going far for Atsushi’s sake

After getting to know about the bounty, Dazai lets himself get captured by the PM on purpose, without informing any other ADA members, and stays inside the prison until seemingly a right time draws near. He is willing to do this, even though he knows full well that he is perceived as a traitor and that certain people will not welcome him with open arms.

When Chuuya mentions that he suspects that Dazai must be here for a certain reason, Dazai then states that he does all of this mostly for Atsushi. He even goes so far as to provoke a second punch in the face from Akutagawa, by belittling him in saying that Atsushi is a better subordinate than him, after Akutagawa threatens to kill Atsushi.

Probably the most visible scene where Dazai openly shows anger and shock towards someone hurting Atsushi (or hurting someone he cares about in general) is during the incident with Q:

He doesn’t act like this again the second time when Atsushi brings him the doll to nullify Q’s ability, even though the whole city is in chaos. He’s also less concerned about Naomi and Haruno in that moment and more focused on Atsushi during this. Which doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care at all for others, knowing that Naomi and Haruno are able to handle their situation (which is confirmed by them later). But it also shows that Atsushi is his main priority.

Throughout the story Atsushi slowly notices this himself. At first he is hesitant to believe that he is Dazai’s “most trusted subordinate” and worries that Dazai might be mad with him should he go overboard with something (e.g. during 55 Minutes when he was able to surprise Dazai who was hiding in the trash can).

He only ever claims to have Dazai’s trust, if it means to provoke Akutagawa (which he does for a different reason, but I’m not going to expand on this here). Later, he even wonders how Dazai would react/look if Akutagawa came back with the news of him having died:

Which means that Atsushi’s former mentality of people not caring should he die gets replaced by having someone actually be mad/sad about this.

Hiding his “dark side”

It may not be that visible in the anime, since some scenes are either left out or interpreted for the sake of jokes. But the manga makes it clear that Dazai struggles with guilt because of his own past (e.g. when Atsushi asks the other ADA members what they’ve done before joining the ADA, aside from everyone else Dazai looks away. This suggests that this question and the closely related memories of it are uncomfortable for him. Another example is his reaction when he asks Kyouka how many people she has killed).

Dazai is well aware that he can’t hide his past from Atsushi forever and that he sooner or later will find out. This is then almost immediately revealed to him by Akutagawa.

However Dazai still tries to hide his “dark side” from Atsushi. Apparently, he doesn’t want him to see that he’s capable of being cruel or that Atsushi may become too aware of anything that could reveal more of Dazai’s past and the things he has done. During certain situations Dazai purposefully doesn’t let Atsushi go or stay with him:

1.) When he pushed Atsushi out of the room to “interrogate” Kouyou:

2.) When he pretended to need to use the bathroom, because he knew they were being followed:

3.) When he meets Ango:

(Even Kouyou comments on how Dazai lets Atsushi out of certain business.)

The reasons for this may be that he’s afraid to reveal this “dark side” of him to Atsushi and that he doesn’t want to drag him into the business of the underworld. It could also be that he’s afraid that Atsushi might see him in a different light and that he’ll turn deprecating towards him. As of now Atsushi doesn’t know the full extent of Dazai’s past and actions. But due the fact that he’s aware that Dazai was a former PM member (an executive even), he must also be aware that some answers will be frightening. Furthermore, he must also already have some ideas about Dazai’s past.

Throughout the story Atsushi has been shown to be sympathetic with different characters, trying to understand their actions or the reason that drives them. Even when these characters fought against or tried to kill him in the past (Kyouka, Lucy, Akutagawa, Fitzgerald, Sigma). Therefore, I doubt that Atsushi will see Dazai in a different/negative light, should his past be fully revealed. But this is something Dazai may not anticipate, since he doesn’t see himself as a good person and as someone worthy of redemption.

Dazai believes in Atsushi

Dazai has an overwhelming believe in Atsushi and his abilities. He reassures and compliments him from the very beginning:

“Nice, Atsushi. You’re like a real detective already! It’s such a joy to see you grow up so fast!” [After being send back in time] “Ha-ha-ha! I never thought you’d be able to scare me like that! You’ve grown Atsushi!” – 55 Minutes

“Oooh!” Dazai squealed in excitement. “Look at you, Atsushi! Impressive!” – 55 Minutes

Contrary to Atsushi, who struggles to acknowledge his own self-worth and has little to no faith in his own abilities.

This is the reason why Dazai sometimes pushes Atsushi (not only literally but also figuratively) to do things on his own, whenever he realizes that Atsushi is hesitating. He’s throwing him in at the deep, in order for Atsushi to learn more self-confidence:

He sends him on several missions alone (e.g. sneaking into the Moby Dick) or with other people (e.g. Akutagawa), because he knows that Atsushi is able to do this, even without him:

“[…] It’s up to you to prove the detective agency’s innocence and set us free. You can do it, right?” Atsushi knew – Dazai only asked people if they could do it when he was certain they could. – 55 Minutes

Atsushi’s actions get firmly planned into Dazai’s predictions, knowing that he will choose the right decision:

This great believe in Atsushi gets also noticed by other people (e.g. Mark Twain and Akutagawa):

In return

Dazai’s positive influence on Atsushi also has a positive effect on his psyche: The headmaster’s voice and image inside his mind – the person who always drags him down, tells him to be useless and that he will “not make it” – slowly gets replaced by Dazai’s voice and image – the person who cheers him up and tells him to believe in himself:

It’s no doubt that Dazai was the person who helped Atsushi to live a better life and he is perceived as “the man who saved me” by Atsushi himself. For this reason and his self-confidence Atsushi admires Dazai and is grateful to him.

But on the other hand, Atsushi was also willing to save Dazai despite his dire situation. Not only does Atsushi put Dazai on a pedestal, it is also Dazai who puts Atsushi on a pedestal and who sees him as the person able to help, protect and maybe even change others.

#Dazatsu #Dazushi #Osamu Dazai #Atsushi Nakajima #osamu dazai bsd #atsushi nakajima bsd #Bungou Stray Dogs #BSD #Dazai x Atsushi #my metas #bsd meta

906 notes · View notes

blu-joons · 4 years ago

Text

You Have History With A Member When You Start Working At BigHit ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your body stopped when you saw who you’d been assigned to for the day, watching slowly as Jin’s head turned when he heard that the manager had arrived. “Oh,” he stuttered, frowning as he met your eyes.

“Are you sure there’s no one else?” You asked your boss.

“We’ll be fine,” Jin interrupted before he could respond, “it’s just a day, that’s all.”

“We’re professional, that’s it,” you snapped as your boss walked away, leading Jungkook down to the car park to drive to set.

He frowned, following a few paces behind you. “It’s been a while since I saw you Y/N, you look well,” he spoke up as you walked outside. “You can’t ignore me for the whole day.”

“You managed to ignore for weeks after our date, maybe I’ll take a leaf out of your book,” you huffed, “I don’t need to listen to any of your compliments anymore.”

Jin sighed, climbing into the car beside you, “if you want to pretend that we’re nothing today, that’s fine. But it won’t change what happened between us.”

“I’m your manager for a day as sick cover,” you reminded him, “after today, I don’t want to ever see or hear from you again Seokjin.”

“Alright, if that’s what you want.”

Yoongi:

He sighed as you continued to move around him as you fixed his hair for the photoshoot, keeping your lips tightly shut throughout so you didn’t have to speak to him. “We could use this time to talk about what happened.”

“Why would I want to talk about it?” You retaliated.

“You work here now, we’ll see a lot of each other,” he responded, “clearing the air could be good.”

“I’m here to do my job, trust me, if I knew I’d be working with you, I’d have gone,” you frowned, roughly brushing through his hair.

His head shook gently, “I know what I did was wrong, I’ve learnt a lot since then. I don’t want to be your boyfriend again, but I at least want to be civil with you.”

“For the sake of everyone else around us, I’ll say hello, but don’t ever expect more than that from me,” you warned him, fixing a few strands of hair.

Yoongi smiled, taking whatever he could get from you. “You’ve always held a place in my heart Y/N, nothing will ever change that for me.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you cheated on me,” you whispered, “I can forgive, but I can’t forget what you did.”

“I’d never expect you to either.”

Hoseok:

His eyes lit up as he looked over the outfit, you’d styled for him for the interview with the other members. His hands straightened out the shirt before looking back at you. “You always did know exactly what I liked.”

“Oh, do you two already know each other?” Your boss asked.

“Many years ago,” Hobi whispered, “but we just ended up on different paths.”

“You were my best friend,” you clarified, handing him a pair of shoes, “and then came fame, and you just forgot all about me.”

Your boss quickly walked away as she noticed the tension. “I never wanted to forget you,” Hobi smiled, “I just became too busy to spend any time with you anymore.”

“Just admit you found better friends and decided that you didn’t need me anymore,” you pleaded, “I don’t want to be here and have you play with me again.”

Hobi frowned, resting his hand against your arm. “We were friends for years Y/N, maybe this is someone’s way of trying to bring us back together.”

“I need time Hobi,” you admitted, “I’ve not seen you for years and now here you are. Maybe one day we’ll get back to our old place.”

“I’ll give you time, I promise.”

Namjoon:

You finished your routine one last time to show to TXT tomorrow, turning the stereo off just as the studio door opened. “Sorry, we’re booked in here now,” a voice spoke, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you recognised it.

“I’m just going,” you huffed, quickly picking up your things and hiding your face.

“I know it’s you,” Namjoon yelled out, “you can’t walk away from me and pretend Y/N.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you frowned, revealing your face to him. “You were the one that told me I wouldn’t make it.”

He frowned, ruffling through his fringe. “You know I never meant it like that. I’m glad that you proved me wrong though, how long have you been working here?”

“A few months, long enough to be able to avoid you,” you snapped back at him, “I’ve always turned down the opportunities to work with you.”

Namjoon continued to sigh as the guilt ate away at him. “Don’t restrict your own career because of me, we can still be professional with this Y/N.”

“If you want to be professional, please just let me do my job. The studio’s all yours now,” you spoke, walking towards the door.

“Y/N, I really am proud of you.”

Jimin:

As soon as you heard the words BTS you stepped back from the row of trainees, trying desperately to hide your face. Their eyes looked around the room as they walked in, his eyes falling straight onto you. “Y/N,” he muttered.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” Namjoon sighed, walking around to shake hands.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” one of the trainees, smiled as the members followed behind him.

“What are you doing here?” A voice asked as Jimin walked straight over to you, moving you aware from the group. “You’re a trainee?”

You scoffed gently, “don’t sound so surprised. Just because you managed to achieve your dreams before I did, didn’t mean I wasn’t going to get here eventually.”

“I never thought you’d come here knowing I was here, that’s all,” he sighed, “I thought you’d join SM seeing as they offered you a contract too.”

Your head shook, feeling everyone’s eyes staring across at you. “I’m focussed on my dreams now Jimin, I’m not here to have my heart broken again.”

“I don’t want to break your heart, if you’ll let me, I’ll be your biggest fan. I always did support you,” he tried to comfort, “I never stopped.”

“Let’s see how today goes first.”

Taehyung:

He sat in the cafeteria as the team of stylists walked in, for weeks he’d had his eye on the group, feeling like a face was familiar. He stood up to get a drink, purposely colliding with the group, and the stylist at the back. “I knew it was you.”

“Don’t,” you frowned, quickly taking a step away from him.

“You’ve been avoiding me,�� he pointed out, refusing to move too far away from your side.

“Can you blame me?” You whispered, trying to keep things private, “you’re the last person I want to see now that I’m here.”

His eyes widened, “you’re here permanently? You could never ignore me forever Y/N, in the end we’d probably end up working together. Everyone knows each other here.”

“I would have found a way,” you tried to argue, “I’ve got dinner with my team right now, I don’t have the time to waste talking to you about why I’m here.”

Taehyung sighed once again, “can we find a convenient time to talk about things like adults? I want to put this past the both of us.”

“You never even said sorry Tae,” you frowned, catching up to your team, “that would have been a good start, but you never did.”

“You know I’m sorry, I mean it.”

Jungkook:

You gripped the steering wheel tighter as you watched all of the BTS boys walk out of the building, knowing they were heading straight for your car. You remained silent as they got in, hearing a “hello,” come from their leader.

“Hi,” you whispered back, unaware of Jungkook’s reaction behind you.

“You alright?” Taehyung asked, noticing the expression on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” he stuttered, trying to peer through the gap and have a look at who was driving. “I thought I forgot something, but I found it.”

You knew he was looking in your direction, keeping your eyes firmly on the road. “Are you the new driver that they’ve bought in, or are you another temp?”

“I’m permanent,” you responded to the leader, hearing a familiar sigh come from the back of the car. “You guys do your thing; I’ll concentrate on the road.”

Jungkook glanced across once again, “how can you expect me to concentrate when you’re here Y/N?” He questioned, recognising the sound of your voice.

“That’s for you to figure out,” you sighed, not wanting to cause a scene around his friends, “you’re the reason we are the way that we are.”

“The way you are? What happened Kook?”

---

Masterlist

304 notes · View notes

goldentournesol · 5 years ago

Text

Twin Flames

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Reader deals with the aftermath of Maeve while she struggles with her intense feelings for Spencer.

Length: 4.3k

A/N: lots of angst...like lots of it. Big thanks to @hopefulfangirl24 for requesting. i totally broke my own heart writing this. ENJOY!

masterlist

Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go, it's starting over. -Nicole Sobon

Starting over.

What did starting over even look like for Spencer? Will the dread and guilt ever stop washing over him as the sun melts into the horizon and the moon takes its place?

It was starting to feel like he could never move on from the pain of losing Maeve. Day and night, he stared at the four walls of his apartment wondering what could have been if he had said something different. He wondered if the outcome would be the same. He wondered whether fate had ever been kind to him in at least one of the infinite universes that might exist, giving him the ending he so desperately wanted. After so many years, Spencer finally allowed himself to be brave enough to fall in love and oh how he wished he regretted it, but falling in love was anything but regrettable. Falling in love meant being vulnerable, and he knew that, but he didn’t know just how much it would hurt. The purity of Spencer’s soul allowed him to love so deeply, so intensely, and with all his heart which made it all the more easy to hurt so deeply and so intensely.

He yearned to become unfamiliar with the feeling of heaviness. Everything was so heavy, his heart, his stomach, his tears. Each of them weighing on him like anvils that he couldn’t lift no matter how hard he tried. In theory, he knew the anvils could be lifted with help from others, but that was too much of a strenuous task to tackle right now. He’ll handle the anvils all on his own for now.

The world seemed eerily desolate and Spencer couldn’t seem to remember what it looked like before it turned into the dull, washed out version he became acquainted with now. Penelope had tried to add some color back into his life, but her actions were futile against the monstrosity of grief. The entire team had tried to reach out and while he appreciated the gestures, he had no capacity for anything other than the agony that consumed him.

Derek left what seemed like a thousand messages on his phone, but he still checked to see who called every time his phone rang. Which is exactly why it was unprecedented to see a different name pop up at the sound of his ringtone in the middle of the day. A name which belonged to a person he’d held very dear for so long. They haven’t spoken in months, maybe a year and if Spencer’s mind wasn’t currently overcrowded with thoughts, he’d definitely be able to recall the exact amount of time between speaking to her last and now. Why is she calling him now? What if something was wrong? Did she know about what happened? No, how would she find out? His curiosity had possessed his body, making him answer the call.

“Y/N?” He croaked, clearing his throat, having not used his voice in days.

“Spencer! How’s my favorite genius doing? I didn’t know if you’d changed your number or something, but I’d just thought I’d call anyway! Are you at work? Sorry, I can call you back later if-” She shouted excitedly into the phone, but Spencer was quick to end her worries.

“No, no. I’m not at work.” Spencer said curtly.

“Oh, is everything alright?” She asked, concerned. She could tell by the tone of his voice that something was not right.

“Did Garcia put you up to this?” Spencer deflected defensively.

He knew Garcia was aware that Y/N was the only person he’d never turn away from. Not after all they’d been through. She was the one person who never left his side. She and Spencer were undeniably connected by some sort of un-explainable, otherworldly force. Call them soulmates, twin flames, mirror souls--whatever. That was what they were. It didn’t matter to them if they were romantically involved or not, the connection between them had surpassed the simple stages of romance. Spencer often found himself wondering what could have been if he’d never left Vegas. If he’d never left her.

“Garcia? The tech analyst? No, why? Spencer, did something happen?” She recalled meeting the eccentric woman when she visited Spencer in Quantico a few years back.

Spencer’s brow furrowed and his mouth spoke before his brain could tell it not to, “Then why are you calling me?” He spat impatiently, pinching the bridge of his nose, already wishing he didn’t have to prolong the conversation.

Y/N was taken aback through the phone at his retort but her heart ached for him, knowing that something dreadful must have happened for him to act so out of character, but she took the phone off her ear to check if she had dialed the correct number anyway. She had.

“I just wanted to catch up with you. Is this about not calling you recently? I’m sorry, Spencer, I got caught up with work and I moved into a new apartment, and things have just been really hectic lately. Are you okay?” She worried through the phone and Spencer could practically feel her disquietude seeping from the speaker.

“So, you really don’t know…?” Spencer trailed off, already feeling the guilt bubble up in his chest, still avoiding the question. He didn’t even know what okay meant anymore.

“Know what, Spence? Oh God, is Diana okay?!” She shrieked, her mind snapping to the worst case scenario.

Her genuine reaction had made Spencer ease the frown that had been permanently etched onto his features for days. It wasn’t a smile yet, but it was something. She and his mother had always shared a bond that he never really understood, even as an adult. That was how compassionate she was, she was able to instantly connect with people and she would do it so well. It used to baffle Spencer when they were children, but perhaps that’s what drew her to him. Their souls were tied together with an invisible string.

She heard him release a huff and some shuffling was heard from his side, “My mom is fine.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “So, what’s going on?”

He paused, debating whether or not to tell her. She sighed again, knowing it must have been something terrible if he wasn’t willing to talk about it.

“Spencer?” She called softly when he fell silent. She was already browsing for plane tickets from Las Vegas to DC.

“I...I couldn’t do it, Y/N. I couldn’t save her.” He sniffled into the phone and her heart had practically escaped from its place in her chest and landed in the pits of her stomach. Her arms and shoulders were immediately overtaken with chills. She didn’t know who he was referring to, but the dread set in quicker than she imagined. She could tell this was bad, even for Spencer and his line of work. Whatever happened had ripped him to shreds and she was not about to sit idly in Vegas.

Two days later, she struggled to haul a small suitcase out of the cab she took from the airport to Spencer’s apartment complex. The flight was way more exhausting than it should have been. She placed the suitcase on the ground with a huff and spotted two blonde women descending from the stairs that led to Spencer’s apartment as she neared the entrance. She quickly recognized them as Spencer’s beloved coworkers, Garcia and JJ. Garcia’s eyes found hers and let out a surprised gasp.

“Hey, I know you! You’re Spencer’s friend--from Vegas! Y/N, right?” Garcia announced as Y/N entered the building, stopping right before the stairs.

“Hi, Penelope.” Y/N said expectantly with a playful smile. Garcia was pleasantly surprised when she remembered who she was and pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Hi, JJ.” she smiled as she gave her a hug, “Any luck with Spencer?”

The two women shared a look and sighed deeply.

“No, he hasn’t even spoken to us through the door.” JJ said with a heavy heart before she continued, “How did you know? Did he call you?”

Y/N shook her head, “No, I called him.”

“And he picked up?!” Garcia exclaimed, eliciting a half-laugh from Y/N.

“Yeah, he did. I don’t know how it happened, I just, you know when you get a feeling like in the pit of your stomach? It felt like he needed me all of a sudden--sorry, that sounds so weird.” She apologized, shaking her head slightly.

“No, it’s okay. Maybe you can get through to him. We’re all really worried about him.” JJ explained and Y/N nodded.

“I still don’t really know what happened, was it...that bad?” Y/N felt silly for asking. The two shared another look. A look that held so much shared trauma and empathy for their friend. Y/N’s heart sank as she let out a shuddered breath at their silent reaction. She glanced up at the stairs helplessly, wondering if she was strong enough to help him through the turmoil he’s experiencing.

“He’s refused to see anyone for the past two weeks, please let us know if anything changes.” Garcia pleaded and they proceeded to exchange numbers to keep in touch. Y/N nodded and smiled gratefully at them before making her way up the stairs and facing Spencer’s door.

She took a deep breath before knocking. Spencer held back a groan as he dropped his copy of The Narrative of John Smith into his lap, bringing his hands to his face in an act of exhaustion. He wanted to scream at them to leave him alone, but he simply didn’t have the energy to do so. He’d settle on ignoring them for now. The knocking carried on, but it was paired with a gentle voice that Spencer knew all too well. JJ and Garcia watched from the bottom of the steps, bouncing with anticipation.

“Spencer? It’s Y/N. Can you please open up?” She called through the wooden door.

Spencer froze in his place. Was he finally asleep and dreaming? Did she really come all this way for him or was he imagining it? Was fate finally giving him a taste of kindness? A kindness he so desperately wished for? He suddenly retreated into the darkest corner of his mind, the dark place which never failed to remind him on an hourly basis just how unworthy of love he really was. Not hers, not Maeve’s, not anyone’s. His thoughts were interrupted yet again by another insistent knock. It sounded too clear to be a figment of his imagination. He forced himself up from his place on the couch and made his way to the door. She heard shuffling from the other side and bit her lip. JJ and Garcia made a move to leave before they heard the sound of the door opening. They shared an excited look, not even caring that they were almost half an hour late to work at this point.

Spencer’s sullen eyes found her bright ones immediately. She gave him a soft smile and he swore the world around him withered away slightly.

“Hey, genius.” She spoke with her signature tenderness and Spencer didn’t hesitate to engulf her in a long awaited embrace. She let out a breath at the sudden force but welcomed him into her arms anyway. JJ and Garcia grinned at each other, a newfound wave of relief hitting the both of them. They left for work, grins of relief never leaving their faces.

“You’re....you’re here? You’re really here?” Spencer mumbled as he stuffed his face into her neck, her presence filling him with a sense of familiarity, one he so hopelessly craved.

She nodded into his shoulder, squeezing him impossibly tighter, “Yeah, Spence, I’m right here.”

She felt his chest expand against hers and he released a deep, heavy sigh. He suddenly felt a sense of security wash over him, his arms tightened around her waist, lifting her off the ground slightly as he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to relish in her warm embrace for just a few moments longer. Relief flooded his chest, and he felt like he could breathe again. He was inexplicably glad that the first thing he could breathe in again was the smell of her perfume. He vouched to never allow himself to forget the level of comfort she brought again. Spencer momentarily forgot about his sorrows in her arms, but the agony was far too unforgiving and the moment of bliss didn’t last. His chest clenched again as he set her down and pulled away from her.

“Y-you didn’t have to come all the way out here.” He frowned, struggling to hold himself together in front of her.

“Stop that, you know I’d drop everything in a heartbeat for you.” She attempted to smile despite her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of his suffering. He nodded and they both stepped into his apartment, her dragging her suitcase in with her.

“You came from the airport?” He said with a small voice as he saw her pull the bag in. He had expected her to stop by whichever hotel she booked a room at first.

“Yeah, I came as soon as I landed. I needed to see you first.” She said, pulling him to his couch by the hand, careful not to step on any of the books that lay on the floor.

“Do you…” he paused, swallowing his tears, “do you have to stay at the hotel?”

“No, Spence, I don’t have to. I can stay here if you want.” She gently stroked her thumb across his knuckles.

“Please? Please...stay?” His voice cracked and suddenly his face scrunched up in an attempt to suppress a sob, but to no avail.

A heartbreaking sob escaped from his lips and she wrapped herself around him without a second thought. Cooing at him lovingly and rubbing his back, reminding him every so often that she was right there. Once the floodgates had opened, they had no idea when they would stop. She held his shaking body tightly to hers as if she could somehow absorb some of the pain he felt and tried not to let any of her own tears fall onto him. It broke her heart to see him so saddened.

She pressed kisses to the side of his head as he calmed down, threading her fingers through his messy, tangled hair. Spencer’s ear was now resting against her heartbeat, he focused on the steady sound and he felt his eyes droop with the exhaustion of days without sleep. She smiled slightly and soon fell asleep, making up for the sleep she missed on the flight over.

Hours later, they awoke and moved around the apartment in silence. Or rather she moved in silence while he stayed on the couch, looking for anything to drown out his sorrows. She focused on making him a balanced breakfast, despite the fact that it was almost 3 pm.

“Spencer? Come eat. I made coffee, too.” She called out, already eating off her plate. She hoped she wouldn’t have to physically drag him off the couch. She smiled when she heard him drag his feet all the way to the kitchen. They ate together in silence, although Spencer was thankful for the warm food.

“Do you know why I joined the FBI?” He asked after a while. She stared at him curiously and he continued, “I joined the FBI to protect people. That’s the whole point of the job. I wanted to protect her, I wanted to save her, and I failed. I failed, Y/N. What’s the point of me being an FBI agent if I can’t even protect the ones I love?” He ranted as he looked at her for answers.

“What is the point of loving anyone if I can’t protect them?” He frowned, tears pooling on the inside of his eyes. She frowned in response, clutching the cup of coffee tight between her hands.

“Do you want to start from the beginning?” She offered and he quickly realized she had no idea who he was talking about.

“Her name is...was Maeve. She was the geneticist who helped me get rid of my migraines. I sent her my brain scan and she was the only one who actually helped. I never actually met her, though, all our communication happened through payphones or letters because she had a stalker. She didn’t know who they were, just that they were dangerous. I’d call her every Sunday and we’d just...talk. We sent letters under pseudonyms. It was nice. It was more than nice, actually. It was the first time I ever felt appreciated for who I am, I didn’t have to worry about her judging the way I looked. I-I fell in love with her before I even saw her. We planned a date, finally, but I sent her home because I thought I saw her stalker. So stupid. I was so stupid. I was so paranoid, Y/N. Good things just don’t happen to Spencer Reid, I should have known.” He paused, shaking his head and holding back tears.

“Anyway, she was abducted by her stalker. We thought it was her fiance at first, but it wasn’t. It was his girlfriend...Diane.” He shuddered as the name left his lips. “She was a grad student at the university Maeve taught at and she rejected her thesis. Can you believe that? I lost the one good thing I had over a thesis?” He laughed bitterly, tears streaming down his face. It was deeper than that, but he didn’t care to explain.

“I only got 2,412 hours of communication with her. Even though I remember every word, it’ll never be enough.” He aggressively wiped at his cheeks. “I told Diane I’d die for her...for Maeve. I meant it, too. I would have died for her!” He slammed a frustrated hand on the table, shaking the tableware.

“Apparently that was the worst possible thing to say because it set her off. She...she shot herself in the head and the bullet...the b-bullet--” He cut himself off with a sob, unable to finish the sentence, the grief hitting him like it was a tsunami and he was an unsuspecting beach town.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” She repeated as she rushed to crouch down in front of him, taking both his hands. She kissed his knuckles before wiping her own tears.

What kind of world did they live in where they had to worry about tragedies like this? She suddenly had a brewing hatred for the world around her. How could it let something so terrible happen to someone so good. Spencer Reid was good, and he deserves nothing but good things in his life. As much as the story pained her, she couldn’t begin to imagine the pain he was feeling.

“I know you blame yourself, Spence. It’s gonna be hard not to at first. But you have to understand that none of this is your fault. You didn’t pull that trigger. She did. I’m so sorry, Spence. I’m so, so sorry. This should have never happened to you, or to anyone. The pain is gonna suck, grief is not easy, but you don’t have to go through it alone. You know that right?” She spoke softly, trying as hard as she could to keep her voice steady for him. He looked at her and saw the truth in her eyes. He nodded ever so slightly and sniffled.

“I know.” He squeezed her hands once and she smiled reassuringly. Her smile made him feel a little bit better. He didn’t want the team’s help, they’d all just treat him like a wounded puppy. She was so unconditionally compassionate and loving, he never wanted to stray far from her again. She got up from her crouched position and pulled him to stand with her. She wrapped her arms around his back and leaned into his chest. He squeezed her tighter, tears soaking into her shirt once again. “Thank you.” He muttered. She nodded. “How long are you staying?” His heart clenched, not wanting to see her go.

“I’ll be here for as long as you need, love.” She rubbed circles across his back. He pulled away to face her.

“What about your job?” He frowned, wiping a hand over his face.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got lots of vacation days saved up.” She reassured, “Besides, I’d rather be here with you than at that stupid job anyway.” She rolled her eyes, thinking of her impossible boss. Spencer suppressed a smile.

“Wait, you’re still working for--”

“Yup, same asshole.” She laughed and Spencer smiled.

He smiled!

He remembered all the times she would complain about her horrible boss over the phone.

“So, you said you moved?” Spencer asked, leading her back to the couch.

“Yeah, I really hated my old apartment.” Spencer nodded, “I’m really sorry for not calling you. I missed you so much and I thought about you practically every day...it’s just, you know, it’s easy to get caught up in all the little things.” She apologized, feeling guilty.

“It’s just as much my fault, I haven’t called either. And...I missed you too.” Spencer said.

“It’s alright, we’ve both been busy.” She smiled at him.

“You would have loved her.” Spencer trailed off, frowning. She let out a sigh.

“I’m sure I would have, Spence.” She mirrored his frown.

“She reminded me of you in a lot of ways now that I think about it. She was kind and compassionate. She was funny, she liked to make puns and she was good with words.” He reminisced sadly. All she could do was smile halfheartedly. On one hand, she was glad he got to experience such a love, but on the other, she found herself fighting off a feeling of jealousy.

“I never thought I’d get over you.” He admitted, fidgeting with his hands and avoiding her gaze, yet he said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Spencer had already bared his soul to her, what was this one confession in the grand scheme of things?

“What?” She whispered, completely caught off guard. He glanced at her to see her shocked face.

“What? Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He scoffed lightly. He was right, she always suspected his feelings for her but she never wanted to entertain the idea of it in case she was wrong. She’d been hurt so many times that she didn’t even want to think about being hurt by the one person she’d loved more than anyone else.

She loved Spencer. She knew that. There was no doubt in her mind. They were twin flames. They danced around each other and separated, but never burnt out.

“In fact, I don’t think I could ever get over you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.” He spoke quietly. “You don’t have to say anything right now, I’m not expecting you to. I think I’m so upset over Maeve because, of course, I loved her, but in so many ways she reminded me of you. And if I can’t protect her, then I can’t protect you.”

“I, um, I don’t know what to say.” She stammered. She knew he was overwhelmed with emotion so she tried not to take his words too literally. But the confession hit her like a truck. She didn’t know what to do. He’s mourning the loss of his girlfriend, it would be completely selfish for her to take advantage of his feelings. It’s not like he was asking anything of her, he was just hanging it all out to dry. He was so vulnerable right now, she couldn’t act upon her own feelings. They both knew that.

She felt her throat run dry at all the words she wanted to say, but she settled on, “We should talk about this later, Spence.”

He gave her a half smile and nodded, the numbness setting in.

The next few days blurred into each other. They consisted of Y/N cleaning up around the apartment, making food, doing laundry. Spencer was doing his best to help her out, but he found too much comfort inside the walls he built for himself. She didn’t push him to do anything he didn’t want to do. She’d convinced him to leave the house twice, both times going for a walk in the sunlight. She made sure he brushed his hair and shaved his face. Honestly without her, he’d probably still be stuck in his spot on the couch. She updated his coworkers daily, letting them know that he was doing better. She even held him at night when he cried for the love that was ripped too soon from him.

“Y/N?” Spencer called one morning as he walked in on her in the kitchen.

“Yeah?” She turned away from the coffee machine to face him. She still looked as beautiful as ever even under the light coming from his dodgy kitchen window.

“I just want to thank you. For all you’ve done for me. It couldn’t have been easy for you.” He smiled shyly. She smiled brightly at him, moving closer to wrap her arms around him tightly.

“You don’t have to thank me. You would have done the same for me.” She looked up at him and into his honey colored eyes. The eyes that have shed buckets worth of tears in the past few days.

“Yeah, I would have.” He joked, finally feeling like himself again, resting his hands on her waist. “I meant what I said, by the way.”

She nodded, “I know. But we’re not in any rush, are we? I’d wait for you forever if I had to, Spencer Reid.”

And he wouldn’t have to worry, because twin flames always find each other.

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid masterlist #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x maeve #spencer reid x reader #soencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot

864 notes · View notes