#because in the sentence “here” is the stand-in replacement word for whatever place they are at because it's already been established | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

be-ready-when-i-say-go · 3 months

Text

Sweet Dreams--Part 14

Calum and you have dance around reality for a few months now. But after Calum leaves and returns from a trip, the reality has to be confronted.

Weeks are passing and maybe more is blooming between you and Calum than might meet the eye.

Prince!Calum x Reader Insert.

Series Masterlist

Complete Masterlist

“Her car is still here.”

You see white SUV too, as you’re parked on the street parallel to the house. Normally you pull into the driveway, but Diana’s truck and Melvin’s sedan are both out. It makes you wonder how much Diana did the driving with the kids. Or perhaps Melvin’s job has him commuting a further distance than you realized so he keeps the smaller vehicle to save on gas. There’s holes and parts of their lives that you have no way to grasp. But as you sit in the driver seat, the engine still knocking gently as it settles, you realize how much is unraveling even if you can’t see it.

“I thought Dad said she was gone,” Teagan tacks onto Charlie’s observation.

“She can’t take her car with her,” you answer.

You’re not sure where Diana is. Melvin only told you that she’d finally relented to going into rehab--intensive and pretty secluded, according to him. The words private and expensive were interwoven through the conversation, but never spoken. It makes you assume it’s a place further out. Perhaps, he too wanted more privacy about the situation given the headlines that were still rolling. Calum had only mentioned the particularly rough ones to you, in the hopes to prepare for whatever might happen as you settled back into your normal routine. Information you’d passed along to Melvin mostly in the form of a warning, asking that he try to refrain from watching the tabloids and the press too closely.

“Oh. Why not?” Teagan asks. Her question breaks you from the trance you’ve funneled into you, watching the truck for any sign of Diana popping out of it. Though, you know that shouldn’t happen.

“It’s-” the words are failing you. You can feel them die on your tongue as you look into your rearview mirror. Their eyes are hopeful but still confused. “It’s not like a regular doctor’s appointment that she gets to come and go from. She’ll be away for a bit.” You want to add ‘little’ into the mix of the sentence but know better than that. You don’t know how long she’ll be gone and if you try to quantify that length even more, it will raise questions and disappointment.

Charlie drops his gaze back out the window. “I don’t like this. Having her car but not her.”

“New things take a while to adjust to,” you offer. Because this is new. For them, for you now too. What do you become in the midst of this? How much is too much even though you want to be there for them? What does this mean for you and Melvin as well? You want to be there but you don’t want to replace. That’s not your job as their sibling.

“Calum said something like that too,” Charlie hums. It’s somewhere between disappointment and hopefulness.

The unfortunate reality is that you and Calum have the years to see how right the sentiment is. But you watch Charlie gaze out of the window. You want the words to crawl up your throat. You want the right words to mold your tongue. But you’ve got nothing but cynicism wanting to come back up. He’s not old enough for that. Charlie and Teagan don't need that in this current situation. So you swallow it back down.

The front door creaks open after you’ve knocked. Charlie and Teagan stand in front of you, wrapped up in coats, they carry their school bags and you hold the bags with their freshly laundered clothes and toiletries. Melvin smiles down at them. “Hey, kiddos.” But something about the sentence comes out a little strained, buried in a cough and you can see the ring of red in his eyes. The tears he’s cried no doubt.

You bring yourself back down to Charlie and Teagan’s level. “You two can call me. Anytime. Okay?”

“I’m calling right now,” Teagan teases as she buries herself into you.

You kiss the top of her head. “Consider this me answering.”

As you stand back up, preparing to hug Charlie, you see him square his shoulders. He’s just a kid. “Hey,” you state softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Let me and Melvin shoulder this one okay?”

“I can handle it.” His voice shakes, chin quivering.

This--this is what you were afraid of. Charlie’s a great kid. He cares so much. You know he does. You know as much as he talks and trusts, he’s always going to be the kid who protect his sister. This is not something he can protect anyone from. It’s not something you could’ve protected them forever against either.

But Charlie’s going to want to. He’s going to feel like he has too. But you’ll at least offer a hand. “Well, don’t handle it alone, alright?”

He exhales, pushing into your chest and you let him in, winding your arms around his shoulders. He shakes into your body. He is just a kid. And it kills you every time you think about how young they are. The embrace lasts long enough for Melvin to usher you two inside. Teagan follows him upstairs to drop off her belongings into her room. And Charlie shakes and shakes in your arms. You settle onto the floor in front of the closed door and let him settle onto your lap. Your arms become a cradle and you hold Charlie as tight as you can.

“Don’t make bad choices about us too, okay? Please don’t,” he sobs into your chest.

There are promises you know you can’t keep. This might be one of them. “I promise I won’t,” you whisper. Damn if you can’t keep them. Damn if you don’t try either.

“I can take him,” Melvin offers, descending the stairs. It feels like an out, like if you’ve got an excuse you can use it now. And you don’t. You purposefully switched shifts with someone so you’d have nothing in your way. So you shake your head and keep Charlie’s body cradled to your chest. The tears and shakes are gone, but Charlie’s yet to let go. So you don’t let go either.

Melvin settles onto the steps instead, pulling the glasses from his face as he exhales. It feels like it echoes in the house, bouncing off the walls, into the dining room, around the kitchen, up the stairs, and out into the yard. “I made the mistake of going online even after you told me not to,” he confesses to the floor. But his gaze drags up to you, you see the harrowing exhaustion. “Should’ve listened.”

“Sometimes I’m not wrong,” you offer. It’s an awkward lob of a tease. You’re hoping he understands the jest that you’re trying to employ. He smiles, exhaling a tuft of laughter as he does so. Your heart eases, the squeeze dissipating at the sound.

“Yeah, sometimes,” he agrees.

When Charlie goes lax, his hold around you slipping inch by inch, you know he’s emotionally exhausted himself into sleep. This is not the way you want to go. But you may not get another chance. And you may not last through another emotional burst. You’re careful as Melvin helps you up the stairs and as you tell the probable unconscious boy that you love him, that you’ll come by more often. You can only help that the words settle into his psyche, that he understands what you’re trying to say.

Back down the stairs, you reach for the door, hand outstretched for the knob. Behind you is Melvin. Maybe a foot or two behind. Close enough that you know he’s there, but far enough that it still feels like there’s a gap. You want to go. Know you should go now that this part is over. But the hardest part for them is just beginning. It only gets harder and harder from here before it gets easier.

“Is there anything I can do to make things a little easier? You’re going to be down a pair of hands for however long Diana’s in rehab,” you start and turn back to face him.

Melvin blinks, a bit of surprise still clear on his face. “I don’t want to ask too much of you.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m asking,” you return. “A weekly dinner, extra hands on the weekends. It’s okay if you need my help.”

You see it again, the hover of Melvin’s arms. The way he smiles, and inches closer but stops just as quickly as it starts. Is it a bit of pride too? But you don’t let yourself linger on the thought. You don’t want to get too involved too fast. “I’ll let you know? Is that okay?”

You nod. “I’m just a call away.” The door closes behind you and it’s soft. You catch the click of the lock being turned too. You can only hope that Melvin does actually take you up on that offer. That he actually gives you a call when he does need the extra help.

_______________________________________

You tap the top of the cupcake. It’s cool to the touch and though you know it might help to put the batch into the fridge for a few minutes, you’re already cutting it close as is to get to work on time. You pipe the frosting onto the first one and give it a few seconds to see how much melting will occur if any. Thankfully, it seems to hold up. So you continue on with the rest of the batch.

The stairs creak. The apartment is older, having been built in the 80’s. But you always know who’s coming and going by the noise the stairs give off. “Sorry for the mess,” you call out. You don’t even look up to see which of your roommates it is. You know the counters are still full, covered in bowls and whisks. You know it is, yet you can’t exactly stop right now to get to it. You’ll be sure it’s taken care of before you leave.

“No, you’re good.” It’s Josie, you realize by how softly she returns. She shuffles to the fridge and it hisses just a little as it cracks open. “Who are you baking for? Seems like a big party.”

It’s only two dozen cupcakes, but it is still a steep undertaking for just one person in the small apartment kitchen. “Friend’s birthday,” you answer, looking up to your left.

She smiles in return. “What kind? Buttercream frosting?”

“Carrot cake. And yes, birthday boy’s favorite so it sort of had to be done,” you return with an exhale of laughter.

“Ah, would this be your boyfriend or?” she laughs with the question.

“No, his friend’s birthday though.”

“How--how is that going? If I can ask. With the Prince?” She seems scared, as if the question itself will cause harm. But you know it’s a valid question to ask. You know it’s how roommates converse with each other. It's normal to talk about this stuff, but it’s sort of the most that you’ve really conversed with each other. You know it’s odd, but previously it’d been your job that prevented you from really being home enough to even talk to them, to even think of having such conversations.

“It’s good.” And it is. It is good with Calum, though life has definitely handed you cards that make other aspects more challenging. That part of your life though, thankfully, was still smooth. “Am-Am I in your way?” you question. You’ve taken over the kitchen, but you do realize that it’s not solely yours.

“No, no.” She holds up the bottle of water. “Came just for this. You’re okay.”

You nod, and return your focus back to the cupcakes. Only about a fourth are iced and you still need to clean. There’s no creak of the stairs, no ache in the wood that echoes to tell you that Josie’s left the kitchen. “How-how are things on your end?”

“Things are good. I got a promotion at work which is sort of taking longer to adjust than I anticipated.”

“Congrats on the promotion. Are you supervising?”

Josie hums before she responds. “Yeah, I’m a manager of a team now. It’s not the same people I was working with before. But they’re doing the same thing I was doing, so it’s easy in that regard. I know the mechanics of the job, which is nice. I just don’t know how to always talk to people. Like firmly I mean. It’s still awkward.”

It’s not shocking that Josie’s not someone that knows how to be firm with people. Not in the same way that maybe others can more easily others. She stumbled and fumbled when asking for help with the insects in the kitchen. “Did you want the promotion? Like to start supervising?” you ask.

Josie snorts. “I wanted the pay raise. I’m not a fan of upper management and hoped that I could bring change if I took it. But it’s harder than I imagined. I don’t know though. Like maybe it just takes some time.”

“Supervising people is a challenge. But it doesn’t sound like you’re looking to give in just yet though.”

“Definitely not. I might talk to some other leaders and get time with them about what strategies they use and stuff.”

You look up from the last part of the batches. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

Josie’s smile is soft in return. “Do you need help with anything? If you need a hand with the dishes, I’ve got nothing else to do.”

Though it dances on your tongue why Josie would want to spend her day off, tackling a mess she didn’t create, you don’t actually ask it. It would be dismissive, rudely so. You look back at the bowls, as they wait with the remains of batter along their walls. “I really don’t want to get in your way,” you counter. It’s an out, something to let her out should she not actually want to help but only asked to be polite.

Josie shakes her head, pulling the sleeves up from her wrist towards her elbows. “It’s not a problem.”

You want to protest, but the help would greatly unburden some of the time crunch you’re on. So you watch. She turns the knobs to let the water rush down into the basin. “Thank you,” you call out after the sink is full of soap and water.

“Of course.”

It’s rather quiet. Even after you finish icing the cupcakes and get them boxed up, and even after you start drying the dishes that you dirtied and that Josie washed, the two of you fall into silence. It feels like you’ve somehow always done this with each other. Like somehow this is just a natural rhythm.

The cabinets close. The water spirals down the drain. “Thanks again,” you offer to her softly. “I owe you one.”

“Oh, no problem.”

“Best of luck with that promotion,” you call up to her over the creak of the stairs.

“Best of luck getting those cupcakes to the party safely.” Her smile is soft and Josie carries herself up the stairs gracefully. No unnecessary groans or creaks from the stairs. Though you don’t have the time to correct her about the fact that while it is a party, it’s one that you’ll be ultimately working, you like the idea that to the outside this just might be normal--that you’re baking cupcakes for a party that you’ll be enjoying--rather than the true testament of the matter: you’ll be working.

The first half of your shift feels relatively normal. You take the time to help with the second wave of prep--the weekend typically comes a strong wind that takes with it all the morning prep only a few hours into the day. And once you’re in a good position with prep, you move on to helping with orders. It’s a steady stream, the white tickets never seeming to halt. Not that you expect them too. There’s something easy to madness, as you’ve grown more and more accustomed to the demands of the weekend.

It’s almost normal enough to forget the cupcakes in the fridge. That is until your name is called out. You turn, feeling the heat of the grill now caressing your back rather than the front. Harley waves at you, egging you closer and closer to the windows that orders rest on. “What’s up?” you ask.

“The Prince is asking that I ask you about some cupcakes?” Harley’s question lilts in a way that it’s clear she’s not sure what this could mean but is relaying the message nonetheless. It shocks you just a little to think that’s even close to six. But you know the timing in the kitchen is not the same time tracking that happens outside of it. You’re focused on chicken breast going in at the right time to make it out with the baked potatoes. The outside world slows while this internal clock keeps ticking ever faster as you time fish and steak.

You nod at Harley’s question though, to let her know you’re still listening. “I’ve got ‘em. Are they in your section?”

She nods. “Tables 19 and 20, in that back corner.”

“Perfect. Uh, when it looks like they’re settled from the entrees just let me know and I’ll help you bring out the cupcakes. It’s for a birthday.”

“Oh, okay, cool. Thanks. Also, like, what’s it like?” There’s a pause to her question. The flick of her gaze around as if trying to make sure the coast is clear.

“What’s what like?” you pose in return. You’ve counted down the seconds and you’ll need to flip that chicken breast soon so it won’t char.

“You know. With the prince.”

Harley’s young, in her junior year of college and picked up the server gig to help her pay for books and rent. A testament that seems to echo with several other servers in the restaurant too. So there’s a stark difference between the front and the back. The servers are not shy with their conversations about love lives. The back is older, a bit more worn with time and laughs as the younger coworkers talk. It’s not to say that there isn’t more than a fair share of stories about lovers, and one-night stands. But you don’t participate. It’s awkward. Everyone seems to know about your situation but no one pushes it.

And you don’t plan on breaking that silence any time soon either. Though you do smile at the eagerness on her face, you turn back to the grill. You lift the breast up onto the spatula to turn it over.

“Oh c’mon! Just a little detail. A tiny one,” she laughs.

“Unless you’ve got an order you’re dropping off, then I think our conversation is done.”

She sighs--or at least you think, she does. It’s a bit hard to hear over the hiss of the grill and the calls from others at the grill for some assistance. You get the curiosity she has. You think it might plague you too if it were someone else in your shoes. But you know that even if Harley is harmless in her questioning, others won’t be. It’s a lid best to keep tightly tamped down on the jar. As long as the questioning remains harmless, you can live with it. You’re sure you would have to even if you were to change jobs or professions as long as you’re with him.

More orders come through. Though the kitchen feels slightly more crowded than normal with your additional presence, you understand why Turner wanted the extra body around. While your focus is on the tables for Michael’s party now that they’ve arrived, you still managed to help prior with other orders and manage to keep the small parties from waiting too terribly long. You call out the last dish for table 20 and Harley’s already waiting for it. Her and Peter will be taking the food out.

But she pauses. “Sure you don’t want to say hi to your boyfriend.”

All you can do in return is laugh, before waving her along. She goes with Peter right behind her. Your focus turns back to the tickets still waiting in the line, still more chicken and shrimp to grill. When Harley returns later, about three dishes have left your station as it’s really your only true measurement of time, she lets you know that in another five minutes she thinks it’s a good time for the cupcakes.

“Thanks,” you call out in return and snag your supervisor to let them know you’ll need to step away for about ten minutes.

At the fridge you pull out the boxes of cupcakes and the candles you grabbed as well. In a busy kitchen, a moment of peace is rare, and silence is even rarer. But you manage to get the candles into a couple of the front cupcakes with ease and with only a few interruptions as people pass in and out of the fridge. The holler of your hand manages to cut through the noise and you know it’s Harley undoubtedly calling for you, so you hoist the boxes on top of each other and slip out.

“Can you grab the lighter?” you ask, attempting to wiggle your fingers from beneath the stack.

She nods. “I can take another box if need be.”

“I got it. Just lead the way.”

The noise is different as you break through the threshold that separates the kitchen from the dining area. The white noise of hissing blacktops is replaced by the married roar of chattering--the decibels and octaves of all the voices evening out into one tone against your ears. The dining area feels bigger than the kitchen, more spacious. But you weave around patrons, checking plates to see what seems to be popular and what seems to have not made the cut. It’s a bad habit, you know that, as a cook. It’s not your job to worry, but you are curious. You wonder what you might be able to bring back to the head chefs. But the curiosity is cut short as you spot the table that Calum and his friends are at.

Michael’s back towards you, thankfully. But you notice when Luke spots you; his eyes dart almost immediately to Calum who’s sitting to his right. Calum’s gaze is much slower, lazy even as he drags it up over to you. You’re sure he’s trying to play it off, like he didn’t know this would happen to keep Michael in the dark for just a little bit longer. You slow your pace, sliding the boxes temporarily onto the empty table behind them to crack open the top to the box. Once that’s open you catch up to Harley.

“I know you’re probably going to be pissed,” Calum starts, “but I had to do something.”

Michael’s laughter echoes as he peaks up at you. “Oh there you are! Hi!”

“Hi, Michael. Happy Birthday,” you smile, slipping the boxes onto the table. “I heard from the grapevine you’re a fan of carrot cake.”

“Would that vine happen to be about 6 '2'’ and have brown eyes?” Michael teases, helping to get the top off the second box.

“Maybe,” you laugh. “There’s no age or numbered candles as to spare your dignity.”

“Thanks for thinking about an old fart like me,” Michael snorts.

Harley slips you the lighter when you reach for it and with just a couple flicks of the ignitor you get the wicks to catch. The entire two tables break out into Happy Birthday. You join in, only intending to stay for the song but Calum manages to get a solid enough hold around your knee before you can slip away.

“Thanks again for baking these,” Calum smiles up at you.

“Of course. I was happy too.” You know you wouldn’t allow yourself to show up empty handed especially after not being able to take the day off.

“Compliments to the chef,” Luke calls out, a little muffled thanks to the mouthful of cupcake he’s got.

“I’ll be sure to pass them along,” you laugh. “But thanks.”

“Will you be joining us for drinks later?” Ashton asks. He passes the box down to his left after securing his cupcake. “Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“That’s the plan. But if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that question means you like me or something.” It’s an easy quip, one you know will land well and it does.

Ashton snorts, “Or something sounds about right.”

“Oh, don’t listen to him. We do like you,” Michael reassures. “Thanks again for the cupcakes.”

“You’re welcome, Michael.”

“I think it’s Calum’s birthday next. So as a heads up, he’s a fan of chocolate,” Ashton teases. “Then mine, then Luke’s.”

“Oh come off it. You eggs aren’t going to rope my partner into demands,” Calum interjects. “Fuck off. We can pay someone else for cupcakes.”

“But will they be as good as these? I don’t think so,” Luke laughs.

You shrug. “I mean, I can be paid to make cupcakes. But it’s paying customers only from now on. Michael only got these free because I felt bad.”

“I thought we were friends,” Ashton gasps. The grin is bright across his face.

“Or something like that,” you retort.

Ashton’s laughter howls, but the wag of his finger in your direction seals the deal. “Alright, you won this time.”

“Adding a tallyboard to my shopping cart now,” Luke teases, tapping at the screen of his phone. “Because we are going to need it now.”

You don’t know what you’ve started or if you should be scared, but there’s something in the laughter that the table shares that lets you know you’ve been taken in, folded into the ranks and dynamics of the group.

“Please enjoy them all. I don’t want anything back,” you announce before your departure. Duty still calls and you know you’ve taken more time than you really intended from the kitchen.

“Not even the box?” Michael laughs, holding out the empty box.

“Especially not the box.”

Your exit this time is more successful, though you don’t escape without a quick squeeze to your knee from Calum. You feel the gaze though, undoubtedly Calum following you as you head back to the kitchen. When you round the corner to lead you back, you take the time to look over and true to your guess, Calum’s watching, a grin on his face. It shouldn’t make your stomach flutter. It shouldn’t make your cheeks hot. Yet it does because of how much warmth and solace you find in his presence.

At close, when the grills are cleaned and utensils cleaned, and you’re headed out the front to get to your car, there’s a small moment where your heart races. The cold whips across your face and you look out the lot. You know you shouldn’t be looking for her. Diana’s long since gone to rehab, you know she’s gone. But yet, there’s still a piece of you that’s waiting, like somehow it was maybe all just a bad dream. Or worse yet, like you’ll be cursed to relive the day over and over and over again.

But there’s only your coworkers, slipping into their cars. There’s only the wind and the chill. You’ve got nothing to worry about. Yet, there’s everything to worry about. Like you can’t help but carry the anxiety in the pocket of your pants. You check for the keys, and your wallet, and your phone, and the anxiety too. It’s there. It’s all there and as you dig out the keys, you hope you dig out the anxiety too and drop it like loose change for someone else to collect.

You don’t have a lot of time but you’re thankful that you did change shirts in the bathroom at work before catching up with the group at the bar. The whole place is more packed than you anticipated, the mixture of sweat and alcohol hitting your senses the second you step inside. You spot Calum first at the bar. It’s not that there’s a pocket around him, not like he’s untouchable. But it’s clear that everyone’s giving him just an extra inch or so of space that they don’t reserve for others at the bar.

You look around for a moment and manage to spot Luke next. He’s at a standing table over on the far wall. You assume that’s where the group is. But you make your way to Calum first and though you’re squeezing through and past people, you notice it too. The way that when people look at you, and finally recognition crosses through the haze of alcohol, they slip out of your way. You give each a passing thin lipped smile, still uttering excuse me and pardon me as you cross the room.

“Opening or closing?” you’re asked when you finally settle at the bar. The bartender seemingly anticipating your approach.

“I’m with him,” you answer and point over to Calum.

That causes him to look over and smile. “Long time, no see,” he laughs.

“I know the hours are decades.” It’s meant to be sarcasm. But Calum’s gaze softens a little and you know that part of him does mean it genuinely. So you slip a hand into his as you rest into the worn wood of the bar. From the corner of your eye, you spot a rather large order slipped in front of Calum. You’re not terribly late, only about half an hour or so behind the proposed schedule to account for clean up and the ten minutes you needed in your car to decompress. But you think it might be the first round of drinks for the night with how much is being placed in front of him.

“Need a hand with that?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I think I’m too tired to mind,” you return, grabbing the bottles closest to you. Calum grabs the glasses and you follow him through the crowd.

At the tables, you slip your arm full onto the top and rattle off the labels. One by one they’re each claimed though you do laugh when Luke and another guy--whom you haven’t gotten the name of-raise their hands for the same beer. You check the other bottles and see a second one.

“Crisis averted,” you tease and slip them both their respective bottles.

Calum’s slipping glasses to people and when his hands are free, one slips to your waist. “We can leave whenever you’re ready, okay. Just say the word.”

“Sounds good.”

It shocks you, though it probably shouldn’t, that Michael’s a bit of a loud drunk. His shrills and shrieks get a little higher with each passing drink. But he’s bubbling, laughing and falling into the shoulders of those around him. None of them go particularly hard, perhaps a mixture of their own responsibilities that await them tomorrow or preference. But the night feels light. You only steal a few sips from Calum’s drink- scotch by the taste of it.

Calum laughs each time you take a sip, the small scrunch of your nose at the taste. “I can get you something else,” he repeats for the third time.

“No, I’m okay,” you answer, squeezing the hand of his wrapped around yours.

In the end, you don’t even pull the plug. Calum does after an hour or so, making rounds to say goodbye to all that ventured out and making Michael promise to at least let him know he got home safely. A promise Ashton takes on too, as he ensures that Michael will be staying at his place for the night. A fact you’re happy to have learned, seeing as Ashton has remained sober during the outing.

The night is cold against your skin. You welcome it though as you step out from the sea of bodies inside--hot and humid as they share the dancefloor and share drinks. Calum’s hand is warm against yours as the two of you walk towards the parking lot. You’re parking about two rows away from Calum, but he makes a point to walk you to your car first. You could easily make it there yourself. It’d probably be easier for the two of you to separate ways, yet he doesn’t do that.

“You headed back home or coming by my place?” Calum asks. Though the answer is almost always, his place, the fact that he asks is nice. You know that should you need to, you can always not choose to stay at the castle.

You have another shift tomorrow and no clean work clothes at the castle. It’s not worth the hassle to grab clean work clothes and then head back to the castle. “Headed home this time.”

“When the day comes, and home is the castle for you, I think my heart might actually stop,” Calum laughs.

It wasn’t a shock to you that Calum looked forward to a future together. It doesn’t scare you either. Of course Calum pictured it. Of course he could feel so casual to offer that up too.

“I am CPR certified,” you return. “So I can revive you.”

“Good to know. I’ll be sure to plan my cardiac events when you’re around.”

It’s these moments that make you feel more sane, feel more like how things should have always been between the two of you. Life doesn’t always work that way. But there is relief if knowing that this dynamic has remained unphased by the interruptions of the world. Paused at the driver side door, you tug him in a little bit closer, seeking more than just the warmth of his hand. His cheek is stubbly--a few days out from his last shave. There’s rows of cars and larger SUVs shielding you two a bit more than usual, but both of you clear over most of the smaller cars in the lot. With the fundraiser ball happening next weekend, you’re sure that he’ll save again soon.

“Can I kiss you?” you whisper at him, eyes focused a bit more on his pillowy bottom lip than any other part of his face.

“You don’t have to ask,” he laughs but moves to close the distance--centimeters at most--between the two of you.

“It’s a lot more fun to ask,” you whisper right before sealing his mouth in a kiss. It’s slow. You can taste the scotch on his breath. His mouth is warm, much like his hands that are now slipping up to your hips, pressing into the bones beneath the flesh. You have his chin, cupped and firm against your palm.

As much greed bubbles at your gut, as much as you think about taking things further, the two of you dance only at the surface. The echoes of your lips meeting and parting interrupt the night. Calum’s only holding your hips. You’re only cupping his jaw. Just under the hint of alcohol is his cologne. Just under yours is no doubt the smell of the grill and grease. But none of that really seems to matter.

You hum as you ease yourself away, not without Calum whining just a little. But he takes the hint and eases back himself. Inches now between the two of your faces, and inches growing between your bodies. “Oh, don’t be sad, love.”

Calum’s laughter is mostly an exhale, coming from his nose. “It’s not sadness, I’ll say that much.”

“And here I was, attempting to spare you your pride.” The evidence of how much it was not his pride but his arousal is pressed against your leg.

“Don’t need it anyhow. But I for one should not be starting any trouble.”

“That would be a first. Is everything okay though?”

“Yeah, yeah things are fine. We’re wrapped up for the holidays but I’m procrastinating on just life things. Wellness check up, dental stuff. Laundry.”

“The easiest of all those things is your laundry, Calum,” you laugh. “You don’t even have to call anyone, or drive anywhere.”

“I know,” he huffs, dropping his head into your shoulder. “The boring stuff is just better when you’re around.”

“Do you have either appointment tomorrow? General check up or dentist?”

“Dentist,” Calum answers, lips now brushing along your neck.

“Well, I can come over tomorrow after work and I’ll be there for laundry even with my own laundry too if that helps. But you have to have actually gone to the dentist and scheduled your wellness check up.”

“Deal,�� he whispers, pressing a kiss to your jugular.

“I want proof,” you laugh. “Doctor’s note or something.”

“Consider it done, baby. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” you snort.

Your retort doesn’t stop him. He presses another kiss along the thin skin of your neck before pushing up. “Thank you anyway. Let me know when you get home okay?”

There’s only a nod from you, but you press a kiss to his cheek. You fish your keys out from your pocket and Calum let’s you go. He takes a step back and you climb into your car. “I look forward to our laundry date tomorrow,” you state as you roll down your window.

“As do I.”

#calum hood #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #calum hood x reader #calum hood x gender neutral reader #prince!calum #calum hood au #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #h writes

12 notes · View notes

em-dash-press · 2 years

Text

How to Write Metaphors

Making your story stand out to readers requires vivid descriptions. You have to weave senses and emotions into scenes, which might mean using a few well-placed metaphors.

Here are a few tips to help you understand why metaphors exist, their purposes, and how to write them more effectively

What Is a Metaphor?

A metaphor is a figure of speech that makes one idea more clear by associating or explaining it with other object or idea.

When someone does something sweet or thoughtful, their friend might say, “Aren’t you a peach!” They’re not saying that person is a literal peach. They’re complimenting their kindness by comparing it to a super sweet fruit. It creates a more vivid picture and can be more flattering than saying, “That was so nice of you.”

Metaphors also lend a more conversational tone. You wouldn’t find metaphors in professional documentation because it’s supposed to be authoritative and serious. Metaphors make a conversation less serious by making lighthearted or silly comparisons.

How to Write Metaphors

Anyone can write or create metaphors by keeping these three tips in mind.

1. For Visual Help: The Extended Metaphor

Extended metaphors last longer than a single sentence or phrase. They often appear when someone is trying to make their anxiety clear to someone else or raise the tension in a story.

Example: “You will never do that again,” she roared, swiping at him until there was enough space for her to leap on her prey. The woman isn’t literally a predator animal like a panther or bear, but the metaphor makes her anger seem stronger or more powerful by rooting it in an animalistic sense of survival.

2. For Humor: The Mixed Metaphor

You can also write a mixed metaphor to lighten a situation or wield your sense of humor in a story. They take readers by surprise, which might be exactly what a scene calls for.

Example: “This isn’t going to be easy,” Anthony said. “You know what they say,” Irvin replied, “when the rubber meets the road, we have to bite a bullet.” Anthony laughed. “That’s literally not what anyone says.” “Whatever—you know what I mean.”

3. For Practice: The Dead Metaphor

Writers consider any overused metaphor a dead metaphor. The idea is to avoid using them because creating something new is more interesting. It’s also a sign that you’re a more skilled writer.

Examples: When the ghost appeared, Amy’s face turned snow white. “Stop repeating yourself,” he said. “You’re a broken record.” Xander would rather kick the bucket than take Friday’s exams.

Why Are Metaphors Important?

Why use metaphors at all? I’d guess you’re already unknowingly putting them in your stories, but let’s talk about a few reasons why many writers use them on purpose.

Metaphors Engage the Senses

If someone says talking with their boss is like voluntarily bashing their head into a wall, you can feel the pain in your head and the groaning urger to do anything other than that. It’s more descriptive than saying someone hates talking to their boss, so it’s more engaging.

Remember, metaphors aren’t the only way to write with your primary senses. You shouldn’t rely on metaphors to do all of your descriptions. However, they’re helpful when you want to switch up your narrative style occasionally.

Metaphors Replace Similies

It’s easy to confuse similies and metaphors, but they’re two very different narrative tools that can make your stories better. Describing things in numerous ways demonstrates your expert control of your craft.

Similies compare two things using “like” or “as.” Metaphors claim something as another thing without those words.

Examples: Simile: When I kissed her, her heart beat as loud as a drum. Metaphor: When I kissed her, the drumbeat of her heart filled my ears. Simile: The kids act like crazed animals once family game night gets competitive. Metaphor: Our house turns into a zoo when family game night gets competitive. Simile: His presence in my life is like a light in the darkness. Metaphor: He’s a light in the dark.

Practice Using Metaphors

Anyone can write using metaphors and make their stories more engaging or descriptive. Sometimes you might also write a metaphor that your readers don’t understand.

That’s okay. It happens all the time.

The point is for your metaphors to make sense to you and serve a descriptive purpose in a sentence or scene. Avoid the overused ones and you’ll become an expert in no time.

#writing metaphors #metaphors #writing tips #writing advice #similies #writeblr #writers of tumblr

136 notes · View notes

thenervousmedic · 11 months

Text

Here's a quick Cyberpunk oneshot

Back on my bullshit.

Only 1k words, just a lil snippet.

'What if it's just me?'

(In which you, V, have a small meltdown over something Johnny said like actual days ago.)

Heavy on the angst though, hurt with barely any comfort, hope you like sobbing, I was in a bad place writing this.

==========================

"...What if it's me?" You murmur Idly, spread on the bed like some kind of pathetic starfish. Arms out, legs wide, staring at the ceiling as though it weren't even there. As though the light pollution of the city up and disappeared and you could see the stars in the night sky a billion miles away.

His projection flickered in the corner of your vision, that dull static sound it made whenever he decided to show up acting as his own personal theme tune rang in your head. "And how am I supposed to reply to that?" Johnny grunts, traces of irritability in his tone. He sounded tense, the complete opposite of your current state, as if that one sentence had already poked at his nerves. "I can't read your fuckin' mind, V. As much as I like to pretend otherwise."

An uncomfortable silence. You felt tired. So very tired. Maybe that's what this was, just exhaustion. Maybe the thought meant nothing. Yet still, it gnawed at the back of your brain like the relic, eating away. "You said… something. I don't remember exactly what. Something like 'not being around to see what'll happen blows, but replacing you scares me a whole lot more.' or… whatever. But what if it doesn't? What if that's just… me."

The realisation of what's running through your head hits him like a cold shower, standing from his position leaning against the wall to look down on you with… something. Concern? Confusion? Words of reassurance, as bitter and sarcastic as they were going to be, had come to mind but before they could get out he'd hesitated. Was it just you? Was he afraid of replacing you just because you were afraid of being replaced?

"No," He huffed, a thin layer of anger in his tone. Not directed at you, though it felt like it most of the time. "My thoughts are mine , V, you hear me?" He wanted to be a little more articulate about it, to tell you that regardless of your influence on him he can tell your feelings apart, but communicating his feelings never had been a strong suit. If you're mad and loud people listen, that's just how he'd always worked.

It was a raw, nagging, doubt. The kind he'd get when writing down lyrics only to throw them out realising they don't mean jack shit. The whole merging minds thing is just a fact, the relic can't perfectly 1-to-1 rewrite your brain into his, that's not how it works. Some things will be lost or skewed and hell just being in this situation was drastically changing his behaviour. He couldn't put up walls, he couldn't distance himself from you, his impossibly self-centred ego had to take a backseat sometimes. "So you're implying I didn't even mean it, is that it?"

A long inhale filled your lungs until they hurt a little, sighing it back out like smoke. The obvious answer would be yes, but you don't have the energy to unpack all of that when he inevitably blows up about it. "It's not like that. I just… I don't know. Ignore me."

"Look, I won't pretend I know what this is like for you. In your head or not, I can't experience this from your perspective-" He starts, seemingly cooled off a little while taking long languid strides toward the bed. Slumping down onto it and leaning back, not making any physical indent in the foam mattress as he peered over his shoulder at you. "It's fucked. You're fucked. I'm fucked. I'm not the 'comforting' type, so I'll cut you a deal." His form flickers, the edges fraying like a bad connection on the holo, pulling an ankle up onto his knee and taking off his sunglasses to hook them into his vest. "You can sulk and mope and be like this for as long as you want, and I won't say a goddamn word. Or. You can sit your ass up and look at me so I can talk to you."

You can feel the urge in your head to not respond. As much as wallowing in this train of thought would drown you, you can't help but embrace that depressive spiral against your own wishes. It feels like just breathing is taking effort you don't have and when willing your arms to move they are unresponsive. "...I want to."

'Christ, V. It's that bad?'

Johnny's demeanour changes, if only a little. The strain in your voice told him enough. You weren't okay, and not just from this one wayward thought, this has been a long time coming. "...Alright. No sitting. Just look at me." He watches as your eyes eventually drift to him only to lower to somewhere around his shoulder. "You have no idea how much it pisses me off that you think if my words are influenced by being in your head it doesn't mean anything anymore. Part of you or not, this version of me means every goddamn word. It terrifies me that every day that passes I see a little more of myself in you. I don't want you to be me. I want you to be you . At least if I lose a bit of myself to you you'll still… be here… " Your eyes sting and water, e tight with discomfort, something that doesn't go unnoticed.

"Breathe."

It's like being stabbed. Ok, maybe not exactly, but it's pretty damn close. You keep finding yourself holding your breath or forcing it to deepen to keep it steady. Johnny might have started to let his guard down over the past few weeks you'd been stuck together but you hadn't. You hadn't had time. You hadn't wanted to. You'd been friendly, you'd spent some time doing 'real talk', but none of that addressed the fact you don't really know what you're doing. Where you're going. The plan was to remove the relic somehow. That's where it started. But now…

It was so much easier to look for a 'cure' for the relic situation when you thought he was a jackass. When he was trying to kill you. When he wasn't your friend. "I-I want a reason to hate you so the idea of getting rid of you stops hurting." You sniffle, your arms finally responding to your commands as you bring both your hands to your face and start to scrub vigorously to clear it. "I can't lose anyone else."

Johnny can feel the way your head throbs as crying brings on a pressure headache. His projection subconsciously raises a hand to rub at his temple with the back of his knuckles. "We'll figure something out, V. Promise."

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #cp2077 #v cyberpunk #Reader is V #Fanfic #Fic #Oneshot #Short

12 notes · View notes

unreadbookproject · 1 year

Text

1: Virginia Tufte's Artful Sentences: Syntax As Style

-What I'm Reading:

Today I started Artful Sentences, a beautiful book that was required for one of my writing classes in college. At 253 pages, it's a nice, challenging first book for this project, made easier by the fact that I fucking love it. In college, I was too stressed to do more than swallow and regurgitate the parts I needed, which broke my heart. Even at the time, I could tell how beautiful this book actually was.

You know those books that are obviously written by someone who has way too much patience for one subject? The ones that are just brimming with joy and love for a particular aspect of life most people overlook? I fucking love those books. Here's one for a particularly ugly stepchild in today's educational system: grammar. Artful Sentences, a stand-alone continuation of the author's 1971 book Grammar as Style, is an ode to syntax in all its forms.

Each chapter focuses on a different aspect of syntax, illustrating its points with 1000 of some of the most beautiful English sentences you've ever read. The design is restful and sweet, too. The only reason I'm not plastering this post with pictures of how lovely this book is because some fucker (me) broke my phone earlier and I'm still figuring out a replacement.

In the meantime, I've dove into chapter 1: Short Sentences. Surprisingly, no Hemingway quotes so far, just expansion on a lot of Noam Chomsky. According to Tufte, you can think of syntax as a collection of slots that certain words can go into.

"...it is the syntax that gives words the power to relate to each other in a sequence, to create rhythms and emphasis, to carry meaning--of whatever kind--as well as glow individually in just the right place." --page 9

Current status: 17/253

-What Made Reading Hard Today

Well, I hope I don't shock you all, but

I don't think I realized before how shot my attention span is? Call it the ADHD, call it the lack of a need to escape into my books the way I used to, but I seriously struggled to get through this first chapter, no matter how much I liked it. I nearly stopped at page 17, decided that was pathetic, and pushed myself to finish it at page 34--and I definitely need to reread the last few pages. Wow, does my ego hurt admitting that. Damn.

-How I'm Feeling

Accomplished, but I'm slightly saddened by how hard it was to just get through one chapter. When I was 13, I could have done the whole book in a day. I'd like to get there again, but in the meantime, I have to do something even harder: be patient and compassionate with myself.

-Is It Sparking Joy?

So far, so good. A little dry, but with some much love and joy that it's like listening to someone infodump about their special interest. Good mental work out so far.

#readblr #currently reading #writeblr #literature

1 note · View note

animeboye · 1 year

Text

New Dragon’s World Chapter 24

Chapter 24: The Curse of the Half-Dragons Pt. 2 Alex smiled mockingly at Drake's resolve. "And you're willing to die to prove how strong you are?" Drake shook his head. "I won't die here." Drake batted an eye at Crystal, who was still lying on the ground. Crystal could tell, just from looking in her friend's eyes, just how serious he was about this battle. She had never seen this side of Drake before. The happy and cheerful Drake, who she had always admired, was now replaced by a more serious and determined Drake. "Crystal…go back to everyone else. I don't want you to get hurt." Drake said. Crystal nodded, stood up, and dusted herself off. She was about to run back to everyone else but stopped just as she began to run. She turned around and looked at Drake, who was still watching her. "Hey, Drake… if you believe Sean is alive…then I believe he is too." She said as she threw her fist up into the air. "So, win this fight, Drake. Because we're all going home together." Drake smiled and nodded, throwing his arm up in the air as well. Alex watched as Drake and Crystal conversed. He began to remember…back to five years ago. It was the day that Jake ended up severely burning one of his friends. Alex, who then was just nine years old, walked up to a then six-year-old Jake. He placed his hand on the younger boy's shoulder and asked him what had happened. Little Jake clenched Alex's shirt and shouted, "I didn't mean to!" over and over while sobbing into his adopted older brother's shirt. Alex placed an arm around Jake and rubbed his head. It was on that very day that Alex swore he would protect his baby brother, no matter what.

He then remembered what he had said to Jake the night prior to the battle with Doulstraz. He remembered the way he yelled at Jake, his loud, harsh final words echoing through his mind. "Fine! Do whatever you want!" "You know for yourself how humans are, and you still bad for them?!" These same sentences replayed over and over in his head, growing ever louder. The harsh tone he used whilst shouting at Jake rang in his ears. He put his paws over his finned ears, trying to drown out the voices. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and roared with great discomfort. As soon as his roar came to an end, he gave a fierce look to Drake. Tears started to well up in Alex's eyes as he hyperventilated. "I CAN'T STAND YOU!!!" Alex shouted. "Why…Why did me and Jake have to suffer while you got to have it easy?!" Drake flinched and started shaking. Alex's body shook rapidly. His thick, armored legs look as if they would collapse at any minute. His fist was clenched so tightly blood started to ooze from his fingers. "When I look at you…I see what I wanted: friends, a family, people who I could count on. It makes me so angry!" Alex sighed and looked up into the sky. Then he smiled. "But it's okay…when I kill you and your father, then I'll be able to have all the friends I want. And I'll finally make humans respect me." Drake frowned. He was both saddened and shocked by just how delusional Alex seemed. Who would want to make friends that way? "Is that really what you want, Alex?" Asked Drake. "What are you talking about? Or course that's what I want!!" Alex replied. "You want to have friends that like you because you tell them to? Even if you and Saulstrance do take over the world, people won't like you for you. They'll like you because they'll be scared of you!" Drake explained. "I don't want my friends to be scared of me…I - -" "Shut up!" Alex exclaimed, interrupting Drake. "I don't need to be lectured by a little kid like you! You don't know what I've been through so don't even start!" "Dude, what is your problem?! I never did anything to you!" Said Drake. His rage at a boiling point, Alex launched a large fireball at Drake. Unable to get his legs to move, Drake quickly threw up his arms and shut his eyes. He felt a small burning sensation similar to touching a lightbulb for a short time. When the feeling went away, he opened his eyes, surprised to see that the fireball had disappeared. Confused, Drake looked at his scale covered hands. Much to his surprise, there were no traces of burn marks. Even his claws were fine. But how…? "What did you just do?" Asked Alex. "How did you do that?" "I…I…" Drake stuttered. I don't…know." "Okay, maybe I'm just getting old, but it looked to me like Drake just threw his arms up at that fireball, and then it disappeared." Ben stated. "Yeah, it's not just you, man. I saw the same thing." Rick replied. "Titus, any ideas what may have happened?" Asked Ben. Everyone turned to Titus. "No, I have no idea." Titus said blankly. "What?! But you're a dragon! So maybe you can do what Drake just did!" Sarah exclaimed. "I'm a dragon, not a magician!" Titus replied as he stroked his chin, thinking of a logical explanation. "If Eig'nia could make fireballs disappear, she would have done it when I fought her. And I know I can't do anything like that…So then how was Drake capable of that?" Titus thought aloud. Back at the fight, Drake continued to observe his hands. He inspected his palms, the fronts of his hands, and his claws over and over, yet found no sign that he had even touched the ball of fire. Alex turned his back to Drake and looked around. Then he turned to his left, then his right, and finally turned his attention back to Drake. He smiled contently. "Yeah. That should be big enough." He said. Alex took in a deep breath. He turned around and took three steps away from where Drake stood. Drake looked at Alex, preparing for whatever he was about to do. At that moment, Alex turned around, jumped back, and shot a stream of fire at the ground. The flames beckoned and rose into the air as he ran around, spraying even more flames at the ground. He had eventually created a large ring of fire around Drake, who had tried to find a way to escape, but to no avail. Alex launched himself into the air and flew down into his newly created ring. He watched Drake, who was still looking around frantically for a way out. "So, how is it?" Asked Alex, panting. "I think this should work fine. A nice ring of fire to set the stage for the end of our fight." "Here are the rules: The first one to either collapse or die loses. And to make it fair…" Alex grunted in pain and hunched over as his wings disappeared into his back. "There. Now I can't fly either." Alex said, smiling deviously. "Yeah right! I bet as soon as you start losing, you'll just fly out of here and I'll be trapped!" Drake rebutted. "Well, you do have one thing right: if you kill me, you WILL be trapped in here. So if you lose you'll be trapped and eventually die…and if you win, you'll be trapped and eventually die." Alex explained. Drake clenched his fists and lowered his head as he squinted his eyes shut and grinded his teeth. What was he supposed to do now? l "How about this, Drake? If you bow down and say that you lost, then I'll let you out. As an added bonus, I'll also let your friends go. Well, except you and your dad that is. What do you say? I think that's pretty fair, don't you?" Alex asked. His fists still clenched, Drake contemplated what he should do. He had no chance of winning and if he lost, then his friends would be in danger. But even if he did win, the heat let off by the flames would soon get to him. "Can't decide?" Asked Alex. "Well how about this then: If you don't surrender and still lose, then I will slaughter all of your friends right here and now." A sharp feeling went through Drake's body. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He knew then that he didn't have any other choice. With his head held in shame, Drake began to kneel down and was just about to admit defeat when… "Don't do it Drake!!" Crystal shouted angrily. Just as Drake was about to get on his knees, he stood back up and looked in the direction in which he heard her voice. The fumes given off by the flames made it difficult for Drake to see her. All he was able to see was a black, smoky silhouette. "If you bow to him, Drake, then I will never be your friend again!" Crystal exclaimed. "But Crystal…if I…" "Drake, listen to me!" Titus called out. Slowly, Titus began to rise from his seat. He began to walk slowly towards the ring of fire, pausing with each step so as to keep his footing. "I know things must look really bad right now. But that doesn't mean this is the end. Even when the odds are against you…there's always that small chance that you just might win…" Titus felt his legs begin to ache. He sat down and continued his speech. "So, Drake, hold on to that one small chance, AND NEVER LET IT GO!!!" Titus shouted. Drake nodded. He knew in his heart that his father and Crystal were right. With newfound faith in himself, and a renewed belief in his abilities, Drake got ready to put an end to this fight. Alex snarled. He had grown increasingly annoyed with Drake's refusal to give in. "Fine then!!" He snapped. "I gave you a chance! Now it's too late! I'll kill you AND your friends!!" "I don't think so." Drake said with a fierce look on his face. Alex roared and ran at Drake. Alex threw a straight punch and hit Drake right in his left cheek. Drake grabbed Alex's shirt and headbutted him, which caused blood to travel from their foreheads and ran down their faces. Both half-dragons locked fists with each other. Alex and Drake both struggled to overcome the other as both of them threw a second punch. Once again, they locked fists. They remained in the same spot for a good five minutes, both trying their best to gain the upperhand on their opponent. Alex began to wonder where Drake had gotten this newfound strength. Wait. Was it that Drake had gotten stronger? Or had he simply begun to grow weaker? Taking no more chances, Alex kneed Drake in the stomach. Placing one hand over his stomach, Drake kneeled down and quickly and swiftly, smashed his fist into Alex's bottom jaw. This made Alex stumble back a few steps as he rubbed his jaw. Drake, in the meantime, rubbed his stomach. He groaned from the pain and tried to get air into his lungs. By this point, the boys' strength was all but lost, their bodies so weak that they could barely move. At the rate they were going, neither of them would be walking away alive. Alex and Drake both knew this too well and so, with no other choice left, Alex shut his eyes as his wings sprouted from his back. "See, I knew it!!" Drake exclaimed. "You're going to run away!" Ignoring Drake's words, Alex began to furiously flap his wings. They started to beat faster and faster, eventually creating strong gusts which were able to extinguish the flames surrounding them. Thick black smoke rose from the ashes and entered into the sky. A large black ring had been left over from the flames. Unable to keep his form any longer, Alex reverted back to his human form. His clothes were completely stretched out and looked a little too big for him. Two holes had been left in his shirt from his wings and a large hole had been left in the back of his shorts by his tail. It was becoming difficult for him to breathe, so he took many deep breaths, trying hard to get air into his lungs. While he did so, he thought about all the times he spent with Jake. He remembered having cheeseburgers at the mall with Jake and Theian. He remembered when Jake bad badly burnt one of his friends, and how he comforted him after the incident. Alex remembered Jake introducing him to a new friend of his, a young boy about Jake's age who appeared to be of Latino descent. He remembered how enraged it made him. He then remembered how he yelled at Jake the night before the fight against Doulstraz. And finally, he remembered the vow he made to himself: to protect Jake, his little brother, from bullies no matter what. Alex smiled mockingly at himself, amazed my how stupid he was for the way he treated Jake and the way he tossed aside his friendship. "Jake…I'm sorry, man." He said to himself. "Hey Drake!!" Shouted Alex. "What d'ya say? Should we put an end to this? I can't keep this up much longer and I bet you can't either. So how about…whoever hits the other first is the winner. Sound good?" Alex asked, his legs beginning to wobble. "Sure…" Replied Drake, whose legs were also starting to become wobbly. Alex's right hand turned into a dragon's paw and he and Drake both charged each other. At that moment, it felt as if time had begun to slow down. Everything around them had grown quiet. Not a single sound was heard. Alex lowered his arm and scooped up some dirt. Drake turned away, while shielding his eyes as Alex tossed the dirt he had scooped at him. "Hey, that's cheating!!" Ben exclaimed. Alex turned his attention to the group. "It's like you humans say: 'All's fair in love and war'!" He shouted. Drake thrashed his tail around in a fierce manner, hoping to smack Alex with it. The older boy paid no mind to this and continued his assault. Drake covered his head and bent over, anticipating the final strike, whilst still thrashing his tail around. At that moment, Drake felt his tail go through something. Removing his hands from his head, he looked behind himself to see that it had gone through Alex's stomach! Drake's eyes widened in shock as Alex coughed up blood. Drake removed his tail from Alex's stomach as Alex fell to the ground, holding his bleeding stomach in great pain. Drake kneeled down and placed his hand on Alex's shoulder, shocked and horrified at what he had done. He shook his head in disbelief. Everyone ran over to the two half-dragons. "Alex! Just hold on!!" Drake said trembling, his voice all shaky. Titus growled. "Dammit, it'll take too long to get him back to the clinic in Baker Valley with the car. Guys, load him onto my back and I'll fly him to the clinic!" "No…it's okay…" Alex said just as Titus was getting ready to turn into his dragon form. "What!!" Titus exclaimed, shocked to hear him say that. "I guess this is what I deserve…I tried to destroy this world, I've killed people…and I hurt my little brother…" "Don't talk, Alex. We're going to help you, I promise!" Drake said sadly. Alex looked at Drake, still holding his stomach. "Just… promise me this, okay…? I'm not going to ask you to stop Saulstrance, but please…save Jake. He's been alone for so long. And when you see him, tell him I'm sorry. For everything." "Alex…" Drake said, beginning to choke up. "You know…in the end, I think all I really wanted…was to have friends. But I just couldn't admit it." Alex said, looking longingly into the sky. "Is that really all you wanted??" Drake asked. Alex looked at Drake. "Why didn't you just ask? You've got friends right here!" Drake said, referring to him and everyone else. Alex turned his head towards Titus and the others. They smiled and nodded. Alex smiled back at them as a tear ran down his cheek. "You're all really nice. I hope there are humans like you out there." Alex turned to Drake. "Hey, Drake." Alex said, raising his arm that Drake had cut. "Yes?" Drake asked, grabbing Alex's hand. "Next time, let's hang out together. The three of us." Alex said. Drake smiled and nodded as tears began to stream down his cheeks. Alex smiled back at him, apologized to him…and closed his eyes…as he passed on. Drake lowered his head, still holding Alex's now lifeless hand, and cried. Everyone else cried too. Atop a plateau sat Jake and Rikai, who watched the grieving group. Jake sat there on his hands and knees, mouth agape as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe that his own brother was gone. "No…No! Alex!" Jake exclaimed tearfully as he pounded his fists on the ground. As Jake cried, he began to think about the time when he had burnt one of his friends, back when he was just six years old. After that incident, Jake and Alex returned home and informed Saulstrance of what had happened. He however, assured Jake that he had done nothing wrong, and that it wasn't his fault. Later that day, little Jake and Alex were playing on the swing set. While Alex swung back and forth, Jake just sat on the swing, relatively motionless. He looked gloomily at the ground, lost in thought. "Hey, Jake, what's wrong?" Asked a then nine-year-old Alex. "I keep saying I didn't mean to do it, but no one listens to me." Jake said sadly. Jake sniffled and started to cry. Alex frowned. He stood up and placed his hands on Jake's shoulders. Jake looked at Alex with sad, apologetic eyes and continued to cry. Alex hugged Jake, which showed the little boy that he understood and sympathized with him completely. "Hey, Jake?" Asked Alex. "Huh?" "Remember what Dad said?" Jake shook his head. "No, he says a lot of stuff." "You don't remember? About making this world ours?" Alex asked again. "Oh, yeah! That's right! I remember now!" Jake exclaimed. "He said it's going to take awhile. He said we need some more help. There's you and me, then dad, and then Eig'nia. So we just need a few more, right?" "I…I guess so." Jake replied unsure. "But Dad said we're too young right now! So how can we help?" He asked. Alex thought to himself. "Well…" He began. "He said in two years, he'd let me help him and Eig'nia. So I guess all we can do is wait until we're eleven." "Oh…" Said a disappointed Jake. Alex looked up into the sky and smiled. "But just wait, Jake. In a few years this world is gonna be ours. Then we can make kids stop bullying us! We'll have friends, and they'll do whatever we want! We'll show them that half-dragons are cooler than humans!" Jake wiped away his tears and smiled at his older brother. "We'll really have friends?" He asked. Alex smiled back. "Yep. And they'll be super cool to us!" "Alright, then let's do it!!" Jake roared. Remembering the promise he and Alex made when they were younger just made Jake even sadder. As he continued to cry, Rikai watched what was going on below them. "First Girido and Theian, then Eig'nia and now Alex. " Rikai said. He smiled fiendishly. "Makes me excited! I hope Doulstraz gives me a hell of a fight!" Jake stood up. His wings and tail appeared on his back as he turned around and walked to the edge of the plateau. "Come on. Let's go." He said in a cold, serious voice. "Go? Where're we goin'?" Asked Rikai. "We're gonna tell my Dad what Drake did to Alex! I'm not letting him get away with killing my brother!" Jake said angrily, his rage building up. Jake's wings unfolded. He jumped off the plateau and flew through the air, just low enough so that Drake and the others didn't see him. "Eh, you're the boss's kid, boss." Rikai said, not really caring at all what Jake said. Rikai jumped off the plateau as well and flew after Jake. Meanwhile, Titus, Drake, and the others stood around. They tried to figure out what their next course of action should be. How would they be able to transport Alex's body back to Baker Valley? Titus stood up and walked back to his car with Sarah following him. He opened up the trunk and scavenged around for something to wrap Alex's body in. "Hey, Sarah, didn't we have a blanket or something back here?" Titus asked as he rummaged through everything. "Well…you know there may have been one buried under all the luggage." She replied. She helped her husband search around the back of the car for something akin to a blanket. After a little bit of time, she had eventually come upon a light blue blanket buried at the very bottom of all their stuff. She tried to pull it out and after a few tugs, succeeded in getting it out of the car. "Will this work, Titus?" Sarah asked. Titus took the blanket from Sarah and held it out in front of him. It was a little too small to properly wrap a body in but it would have to do. With the blanket in hand, Titus made his way to where Alex's body lay. In front of Alex's body sat Drake and Crystal. Drake continued to cry as Crystal tried her best to comfort her friend. She hugged him and pat his back as he cried on her shoulder. Titus kneeled down and placed the sheet over Alex. It covered almost all of his body save for his feet. He then looked over at his son, who continued to cry. "Drake…" Titus said softly. Drake sniffled and looked over at his dad. "It's okay, son. This isn't your fault, okay? Alex had a really painful life. I don't think we can even begin to understand what he went through." Titus explained. "B-b-but…" Drake stuttered as he started to choke up. "I…I coulda saved him…! I…" "You did save him Drake." Titus smiled compassionately at his son and rubbed his head.

"You can't always save someone in life. Sometimes the only you can truly save them…is in death." "And I bet…wherever he is right now…Alex is smiling and thanking you." Titus concluded. Drake nodded as he, Titus, Crystal, and everyone else looked into the sky. Drake shut his eyes and made a silent vow to himself and to Alex…that the next time, the three of them would be true friends.

1 note · View note

nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

Kanato Sakamaki- I’m Sadistic For You

FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS DIABOLIK LOVERS CONTENT AAAAHHH THANK YOU BESTIE! I GOT YOUR OTHER ONE AND I’M DOING IT TOO!

CHECKOUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

So ANON ASKS

For Kanato from DL ( I haven’t seen much done for him and it makes me sad because he’s a favorite ). (: I could Lowkey do some more if you’re not super bogged down I had another idea BUT I ALREADY SUBMITED ANOTHER BEFORE THIS SO IM NOT GONNA OVERWHELM YOU LOL but- anyway Fee free to be as nsfw with my prompts (if you do them) as you want. I dont have any triggers so- writing them super accurate and sadistic won’t bother me :3

Bruh....Jesus is my helmet...but NOT TODAY let’s fucking go! Okay readers, you heard, they aint got no triggers. So if you do...move it along.

52- “You can’t call me cute!”

80- “Shut up! I’m not blushing!”

31-“You need to be taught a lesson…”

81- “You look so...inviting all tied up.”

84- “What’s the word I’m looking for?....Pet!”

Also in this you and Yui are BFFs because she isn’t some cold hearted bitch (homegirl trips over oxygen, plus I love her lol)

I was legit about to have him spit in your mouth....I’m so shameful...maybe next time.

Leggo!

I’m turning into a Yandere account and I am totally okay with that.

...

“You know living here isn’t that bad.” you mused to Yui. “When no one is talking.”

Your friend laughed as she cut up some carrots. Yui turned to look at you as she prepare to peel some potatoes. “So living here is terrible every day other than right now?” she replied.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing. She wasn’t wrong.

You and Yui were making dinner for the house. After a ambush that landed everyone injured except you and her (thankfully). You had offered to make soup and stew for everyone. They were all in their respective rooms healing while you had prepared everything.

“They really fought hard today, I thought Kanato was about to rip that vampires jaw off. He’s really protective of you, Y/N.” she winked. “I think he likes you more than he lets on.”

Kanato and you had a very strange relationship. He hated you, but he didn’t HATE you. No one could lay a finger on you, no one could even look at you, even if he said he didn’t care. Reiji tried to and Kanato almost murdered him.

“He then told me that Teddy said I was ugly.” you reminded her flatly. “Yeah he so cares.” you snorted.

“Maybe he has trouble telling you his feelings”

“I wish everyone was as optimistic as you.” you shook your head. “Looks like the soup is finished.”

“I’m just saying Y/N, just think about it.”

...

You only had one bowl of soup left to deliver, to Kanato’s room. You grumbled as you stood outside the door.

“Kanato? It’s me.” you knocked on the door. “I’m coming in okay?”

Before you could wait for an answer you opened the door and walked in with the cart.

Kanato was laying on his bed when you entered, groaning in what you assumed was boredom.

“Teddy, tell Y/N that I don’t want whatever she made.” Kanato turned away from you. The scars he had suffered on his back said it all. All for you...

Your recalled the terror in your voice as you had screamed for help as the rogue vampire wrapped his claws around your leg. Kanato’s name was the first to escape your lips as you had tried to crawl away to Yui. You remembered reaching out to Kanato with your strongest hand, begging him to save you.

The look in his eyes was feral as he screamed your name too, grabbing you hand and pulling you to him. You were sobbing into his chest, clutching onto him for dear life for a good ten seconds before Yui replaced him, hugging you tightly in her small arms too. Before you knew it, the rogue’s head had been thrown through a window...

...

“Y/N, Look at me! You’re safe now...you’re safe with me...”

...

“Teddy, could you please tell Kanato that while his pouting is very adorable, it won’t get him out of this?”

“Don’t call me cute! You can’t do that.” Kanato glared at you through hooded eyes. “If I wasn’t so weak I’d-”

“Well let me take care of you.” you cut him off, taking the bowl to him. “For me?”

Kanato paused, his glare softening.

“You must be in love with me if you’re so insistent on me getting better.” he grumbled, sitting up. “Y/N is in love with me Teddy!”

“Kanato.” you felt your face heat up violently. “Don’t say things like that.” you groaned.

“It’s blushing teddy, how cute!”

Kanato’s use of the word ‘it’ wasn’t new to you. In fact when he wasn’t calling you names, chasing you around with forks pretending to stab you, or worse, it was denoting you to objects.

“H-hey! I am not blushing!” you pouted. “My face just looks that way.” you lied. “S-shut up.” you grumbled.

“And what if I don’t feel like it?” he challenged, knowing you wouldn’t say a word back. You were kind of like Yui. You wouldn’t dare challenge any of the Sakamaki brothers. It was a death sentence in every sense of the word.

“Kanato, I just want you to feel better.” you looked down at your feet.

“There’s one thing you can do.” Kanato used his strength to stand to his feet. Despite his looks, he was tall, and under that cute exterior was a mean and feral beast. He staggered over to you, a sick smile on his face. That couldn’t be good, not by a long shot.

“And what exactly would that be?” you asked. You couldn’t look at him. You didn’t wanna know what he was planning. You were positive that it wasn’t gonna end well either.

“Get on your knees.”

“My knees?” you repeated. “Why do you want me to-”

“Now Y/N.” he spoke over you. You felt his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t like repeating myself.” his nails dug into your skin, causing your knees to wobble under the pain. “On. Your. Knees!”

Your feet gave out, practically sending you crashing down to the floor. You looked like a dog, on your hands and knees. You appeared weak and pathetic.

You found it in yourself to look up at Kanato. Teddy was perched on the bed, ‘watching’ you two. You felt his fingertips creep under your chin.

“Aww...” he smiled. “You’re like a little...What’s the word I’m looking for...PET!. It’s cute.” He caressed the side of your face. “Too bad I kill all my pets...they can’t handle me...can you handle me, Pet?”

“Yes, Kanato.” you found yourself saying. You felt like you didn’t have a choice...

and you loved every second of it.

“Bullying you has made me regain my strength! Isn’t this wonderful?” he wrapped one of his hands around your neck. “You’re so fun to torment” he laughed.

“K-kanato.” you coughed.

“Is it hard to breath. Y/N?” he asked sinisterly, that crazed smile gracing his lips. His words were terrifying although his actions said otherwise. He loosened his grip on your throat, allowing air to flow more freely. It was those small things that made you think he didn’t hate you as much as he loved to preach.

“Y/N...when that vampire came...I thought I was gonna lose you for good this time” he said sadly, allowing his arm to return to his side. “I thought I had-...that you were gonna die.”

“You saved me though.” you replied. Kanato knelt down to your level, still slightly above you.

“Yeah...because if anyone is gonna break you, it’s gonna be me.”

“I care about you a lot, Kanato.” you finally said it. “I like you too much.” you exposed yourself. “I want you stay by your side.” you said pathetically. “Even if you hate me.”

Before you could say another word, Kanato claimed your lips in a kiss. He held the sides of your face in his hands. It was the first time he had ever kissed you. He hummed thoughtfully, pushing you down to the floor so you were laying on your back. He crawled over you, not breaking the kiss.

“K-kanato.” you whimpered.

“You need to be taught a lesson. If your gonna be my girlfri- I mean pet, you’ll have to learn.” he kissed down your neck.

Suddenly, Kanato ripped the seam of your jeans all the way up your left leg, leaving it completely exposed to the air.

“Oh look, your clothes are messed up, guess we’ll have to take them off.” he smirked. In another swift motion, your pants were torn to shreds. The fabric fell in a circle around you both.

“Teddy look! Y/N is wearing such cute panties.” he cackled maniacally. “Her naughty place is leaking.”

You trembled, waiting for him to do whatever it was he was planning.

“I heard blood tastes better when it’s from your naughty place.” he ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth. “Y/N” he moaned, running his index finger along your clothed heat. “You smelled so much better here...I just want to- ungh.”

He suddenly drove his fangs into your right thigh. You gasped, arching your back. He violently grabbed your legs, holding them down. His tongue lashed against your freshly made wound.

You could hear him whimpering, cursing under his breath.

Kanato would deny it with his life, but everything about you was like a drug to you. Tasting your blood was even sweeter than every dessert he’s ever tasted. Feeling you whimper and plea for him did things to him that would make a sailor blush.

Forget Yui, forget his brothers, forget it all.

“Fuh-” Kanato couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stop himself from ripping off your panties and driving his tongue into your most sensitive parts. Hearing you moan for him, cry for him.

The rumors were right, vampires were godly lovers. It was like Kanato knew what you wanted and where. He lashed his tongue against your heat, grabbing your legs.

“Wrap your legs around my head,” he demanded. “Not like it’s gonna kill me.” he laughed manically. “

Knock knock

“Y/N, are you in there?” Yui’s small voice caused you to panic a little. As you tried to get up, Kanato pushed you right back down, growling into your pussy,

“FUCK!” you whined, making it very obvious what you two were up to. “Kanato, I can’t-”

“Then don’t.” he grunted, not ceasing his movements. “Cum, cum for me.”

“K-KAANAAA!” you cried as you came. You thrashed and writhed under his touch, but he didn’t stop. His tongue never stopped moving. “fuh- fuck! Kanato, t-too much!”

“I said cum for me, I didn’t say I’d stop.” he thrust his fingers into you to add insult to injury. “You’re so fun to fuck with!” he spat.

“Kanato!” you sobbed. You couldn’t stop moving, you couldn’t stop thrashing. Th epleasure had gotten to you so much, you were drooling.

He finally withdrew his mouth from you, smiling evilly at the mess he left.

Kanato had grabbed one of his ties that had left on the floor and bound your wrists together.

“You look so inviting tied up for me...” he shuddered as he bit his lip. He licked his fingers clean of your blood and juices. “Good thing the night is young...because I’m not done with you.”

...

716 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

takes one to know one || fushiguro megumi

➵ megumi just wants to buy some flowers from the nice stall attendant he definitely doesn’t have a crush on in peace. gojou has other plans.

wc: 2.4k

warnings: gn!reader, incoherent chaos

a/n: gracie dearest this one’s for you :( you are so sweet and so lovely to me and i’m so, so glad we met in this hellscape (i would personally like to thank psycho-pass for existing) i hope i did your boy well!

By the time he arrives at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi knows the flowers are a mistake.

“For me?” Gojou gasps, hands clasped and mouth agape in perhaps his most punchable smile. “Oh, you shouldn’t have.”

Megumi’s fist tightens around the handle of his bouquet. Today, it’s lilacs, irises and white lilies. It’s also much bigger than usual – too big to inconspicuously leave on someone’s fence or place in the school gardens.

“You can have them if you want,” he murmurs. What else is he supposed to do with them?

The delight on Gojou’s face collapses into a precarious mix of genuine confusion and insatiable curiosity. “Hah? They’re not for anyone?”

“No,” Megumi says. And if they were, I wouldn’t tell you. Although he doesn’t say that last part. Gojou would perceive it as a challenge, and the less he knew about Megumi’s private life, the better.

“So…” A grin splits Gojou’s face. “The person you bought them from must be special, then.”

Megumi freezes for just a second. But he knows a second is enough for Gojou to glean all the information he needs.

“Ah,” Gojou hums. “I see.”

“No, you don’t,” Megumi mumbles, well-aware of the heat rising in his cheeks.

“But why would you go out of your way to buy a bouquet of flowers, hm?” Gojou grins, shit-eating grin back on his face. “They don’t hand these out for free, you know.”

Megumi’s grip is so firm he’s scared he’ll crush the stems.

Although, he still doesn’t know what he’s going to do with them. It doesn’t feel right to throw them out – not when you’d spent time putting it together – but he wasn’t about to revamp his room with a distinctly floral accent.

Is it against social protocol to give the flowers back to you? Not now, of course, but maybe on his evening walk… or tomorrow morning…

He still doesn’t know why he didn’t just walk past you that first day.

But something about the way you were gazing out into the street, eyes wide and hopeful as you watched people ignore you on their daily commute… something about that drew him in.

And once he’d bought something from you once – just a small flower, one he didn’t know the name of, but seemed appropriate behind a cute girl’s ear – he couldn’t very well start ignoring you.

Not when your smile is so bright, your eyes sparkling with gratitude whenever he takes whatever floral arrangement you’ve lovingly bundled together out of your hands.

But now he’s paying the price – in more ways than one.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your flower stall is just a few feet away from one of the trendiest cafes in this area of Tokyo, and whoever oversees your little operation is obviously trying to capitalise on that. Setting up so early must be an attempt to catch the rush of bleary-eyed corporate workers craving their necessary morning coffee.

What use an office worker has for flowers, Megumi doesn’t know. But he has a feeling that you’d probably say something along the lines of “it’ll help brighten the place up.”

As usual, you’re waiting there patiently, eyes hopefully scanning the streets for any potential customers. Your face positively lights up when you finally catch sight of him – something that still makes Megumi nearly trip over his own feet.

“Good morning!” You call out, waving to him.

Megumi raises a hand in response, shuffling towards you with all the embarrassment of a high schooler on their way to their first date.

“Can I interest you in a floral arrangement on this fine Saturday morning?” You grin, eyes twinkling as you make your marketing pitch.

“Sure,” Megumi sighs, scanning the vast array of flowers currently on display. He’s getting better at picking them out, but he still can’t name any of them on sight.

You wait patiently, hands folded on the counter. If you think he’s an idiot, you keep it to yourself.

“Those ones,” he says, pointing at a group of blue heart-shaped flowers.

“The morning glories?” You ask reflexively, reaching over to pluck a bunch out of their display.

“Yeah,” Megumi shrugs. He has no idea what a morning glory is. The term sounds like something Gojou and Yuji would snicker at.

“They’re gorgeous,” you smile, taking a moment to admire them.

“Yeah,” Megumi says again.

Flowers aren’t really his thing; God help him if he was ever asked what his favourite kind was. But there’s no point in saying any of that – not when he’s already spent an embarrassing amount of money at this one stall.

“You’re keeping the business afloat, you know,” you giggle, as if reading his mind.

Megumi blinks at you. “Really?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “It wouldn’t be amiss to say you’re our most important patron.” You beam at him, same sparkle in your eyes as always.

He’d be furious, if you weren’t so nice.

How is he supposed to focus when you’re looking at him like that? How’s he supposed to ask who ‘we’ is? A business partner? A partner partner?

But you look so young. You can’t possibly be running a business. But you might have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or both. Or a partner of an otherwise non-binary gender.

Too many questions, no social capacity to ask them.

“So,” Megumi begins, his voice calm and composed as ever. His mind, however, is scrambling around like a fast-food joint at rush hour, trying to string together a sentence that’s not only coherent but also fascinating.

“How old are you?”

Whoops.

It’s the forbidden question. Or, at least, that’s what people always say. People, in this case, is Gojou. It usually is.

You seem unbothered. “I turn seventeen this year.”

Was it only a forbidden question for people who’re older? But in that case, surely knowing someone’s age was pertinent for the whole ‘respect’ thing. Maybe Gojou just didn’t think he should ever ask anyone’s age because then he’s not beholden to honorifics.

But Megumi can’t imagine him using them properly anyway.

That’s not the point. The point is that you’re the same age as him. You weren’t somehow twenty-seven with a baby face.

“Oh,” Megumi nods. “Me too.”

The smile you give him is almost unbearable. How is it even more of a smile than your usual smile? That doesn’t make any sense.

There’s a certain excitement bubbling in his gut that he doesn’t recognise or like.

Wait, if you’re his age, then…

“Do you not go to school on Saturdays?” He asks.

Is this conversation too dry? He’s not sure. He doesn’t usually make an effort at this sort of thing.

“My school doesn’t have classes on Saturday mornings,” you smile, meticulously wrapping brown paper around the stems of a set of particularly bright morning glories. You always do it so delicately; where on earth do you find the patience?

There’s something… graceful, about how you go about it. Sure, it’s your job, but Megumi still enjoys watching you work because—

“Hello there!”

Megumi knows that voice.

Oh no.

“Hello!” You fold your hands in front of you and give your new customer a bow. But your usual smile has been replaced with an expression of middling confusion as you look him up and down.

Megumi doesn’t need to turn around to know who’s standing behind him.

“Who’d’ve thought there’d be so many kinds of flowers in bloom, huh?” Gojou grins, slinging a lanky arm around Megumi’s shoulders.

Megumi glances to the side.

A pair of startingly blue eyes peek at him from behind black shades.

“What are you doing here?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“Oh, I thought I’d just come out for a morning stroll,” Gojou sighs, gesturing to the sky. “Don’t you think it’s gorgeous?”

Megumi’s ready to commit a murder.

“And look at all these flowers!” Gojou exclaims, bending down to peer at some asters closely. “Did you grow them all yourself?”

“Of course not,” you laugh. “I just sell them.”

Jealous maybe isn’t the right word. But there is a twisting in Megumi’s gut upon the realisation that within minutes of meeting you, Gojou had made you laugh. Megumi, on the other hand, was yet to do that.

“Well, either way, my student is a big fan,” Gojou smirks, shaking Megumi’s shoulder. Megumi’s soul is currently leaving his body.

“I was just telling him that he’s our most valued customer,” you smile, tilting your head at the pair of them.

“Ah, is that so?” Gojou grins. It’s amazing, really, how he manages to capture all the terror of the apocalypse in one smile. “I never really took him as a flower guy.”

“Everyone’s a flower guy, sir,” you tsk, shaking your head. “Even you.”

Gojou places an affronted hand on his chest. “So quick to make assumptions!”

“Not at all,” you smile. “You’d be surprised by what our customer base looks like.”

“You don’t say,” Gojou grins, turning to Megumi.

Megumi considers the consequences of punching Gojou right in the nether regions. He doubts he’d be punished for it by the higher ups; if anything, he’ll probably be rewarded. Maybe even pushed up a grade for his invaluable service.

“Fushiguro!”

Oh no.

Megumi’s eyes widen ever so slightly. His head whips round to Gojou. His teacher is already looking straight at him.

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “I told Yuji to meet me here this morning.” The glint in his eyes strikes terror right through Megumi’s departing soul.

Sure enough, Itadori barrels his way towards them, damn near colliding against Megumi with a ‘thump’.

Megumi can do something but stare into the abyss, hoping, wishing, praying this is just a nightmare.

Unfortunately, it’s not.

You give the newest addition to this strange little posse a customary bow. “Good morning!”

Itadori beams at you, his entire face lighting up. “Good morning!”

A strange panic starts to rise from Megumi’s gut. If he thought about it, you and Itadori would get along well. Too well.

Thoughts of you and Itadori walking hand in hand down the street as you laugh, Itadori offering you his coat on a clod morning as you blush, Itadori walking you home, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully as you lean towards him and –

Megumi blinks the thoughts away. What is wrong with him today?

You and Itadori have just met. And what was it to Megumi anyway? It’s not like he—

“Megumi?” Itadori tilts his head at him.

Megumi stares back blankly. “Hm?”

“I wanted to know how you found this place,” Itadori asks, voice bright but with the uncertain quality inherent to repeating oneself.

“Oh,” Megumi murmurs. “Well, I…”

In truth, he doesn’t remember. He just saw you one morning and decided to approach. He still doesn’t know why. But he doesn’t regret it.

“I roped him in with my charm,” you piqued up, picking up the lull in conversation.

Try as he might, Megumi just can’t concentrate. Itadori’s pressed against him, Gojou’s still got his arm slung around his shoulder, and—

“Ah, Nobara’s here!” Gojou beams, waving a hand over his head.

“What are you doing here of all places?” Nobara frowns, raising an eyebrow at Megumi. “I wouldn’t have taken this as your sort of scene.”

If there’s a hell, Megumi’s sure it’s this.

Conversation is bubbling around him but none of it is registering in his mind, he can see Nobara’s dissatisfied look as she takes in the situation at hand but he doesn’t have the energy to retort, Gojou is playing with the petals of one of the display flowers but Megumi knows he’s not going to buy it and—

“Hey, Megumi?”

He snaps back to reality at the sound of your voice, gentle and concerned.

“Are you alright?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. It’s as if you’re completely ignoring the rabble, as if you see him and only him.

Next to him Gojou, Yuji and Nobara watch with rapt attention.

“Yeah,” he lies. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

You frown at you look at him. Something flashes in your eyes and you suddenly duck beneath your countertop.

Megumi and his gaggle of fools blink in surprise.

In a moment you hop back up, something purple bundled up in your hands. “Here,” you smile, handing it out to him, “this is supposed to help you sleep.”

One whiff and he knows it’s lavender.

“How much?” Megumi asks.

You shake your head. “Oh, no. It’s on me.”

Megumi’s heart flutters as you smile. Despite the chaos going on around him, despite the fact that he knows he’s going to be mocked for this for weeks to come, he’s grateful.

Somehow.

“Sorry about this…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine,” you giggle, shaking your head.

Megumi feels Gojou chuckle quietly, his chest rattling. Itadori is unusually quiet and Nobara seems moments away from a laughing fit.

“I should go,” Megumi says quickly and suddenly. He doesn’t give you time to respond, zipping down the street as fast as his feet can carry him. He needs a shower and then a run and then he needs to beat a training dummy up and then—

“Wait, Megumi!”

He freezes in his tracks. That’s… your voice.

And around his wrist is… is…

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, eyes darting for where you hand wraps around his wrist. Why is his heart racing so absurdly fast? Why does it feel like his head’s about to explode? You’re just holding his wrist. You’re not even touching his skin. Not that it matters—

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You ask, not quite able to meet his gaze.

It brings him back to the moment.

“Of course,” Megumi answers reflexively.

You finally lift your eyes up. They seem to be sparkling. “I look forward to it.”

Before he even has time to process it you’ve let him go and trotted back to your stall, tending to your flowers as if nothing’d happened.

This has been too much embarrassment for one day. He’s not entirely sure what’s going on and he’s not sure he wants to know. But man, he needs at least several hours alone to process everything.

As Megumi shuffles away, Gojou bounds after him, still grinning like a fool.

“So, Megumi’s got himself a—”

Megumi elbows him in the stomach before Gojou even has a chance to finish his sentence.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #megumi x you #fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x you #I don't know how to TAG #STILL #this is a disaster but now it's everyone else's problem

1K notes · View notes

beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

A Little Voice Told Me - Pt. 3

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 2: HERE Previously on A Little Voice Told Me...

The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. Any anger or tension that the boys previously had was instantly replaced with worry about your well-being.

Asmodeus was the first to reach you. He quickly pulled you against him and held you as tightly as he could. "Easy now, dear. It's okay," he glanced up to look at his brother anxiously standing around the two of you, itching to comfort you but unsure as to what they should do. You trembled in Asmo's arms and fisted his shirt in your hands, no doubt wrinkling the expensive fabric. "They were right, were-weren't they?" you pulled away just enough to look up at Asmo. The poor man nearly choked on the remorse that filled him at the sight of your tear-filled eyes pooling with sadness, despair, and, most disturbingly, acceptance. "Y-You guys are breaking up with me? You-You finally realized you could d-do better than a-a-a-" you tried to continue but became too overwhelmed with emotion as you began sobbing once more. Satan rushed forward and placed a hand on your shoulder. "MC, hold on. We're not breaking up with you." You hiccupped as the others began to crowd around you. "B-But Asmo said you guys wanted to talk and I-I thought that maybe th-those other demons were right and y-you guys didn't want me anymore." With those words alone, you had shattered the hearts of every person in that room. In seconds, you found yourself in the middle of a group hug.

No one said anything. They simply wrapped you up in their arms and supported you as wept. Although they had been seconds away from tearing into each other moments before, none of that mattered if you were hurt. You would forever be their first priority. "Beloved, we love you exactly the way you are," Lucifer whispered softly as one of his hands caressed your back. "Whatever those simpletons said, they're wrong. They don't know you; just like they don't know us." Belphie was running a hand through their hair, hoping that his influence would help calm you a little. "If we could, you know that we would tear apart every person who ever spoke badly against you," he could feel his anger towards the idiots that caused this build-up again inside him. Satan nudged Belphegor's side and gently shook his head. The youngest demon sighed and rested his head on top of yours. "Even we aren't strong enough to control city gossip. We can't change what they think, necessarily, but we can make sure that you know that it's not true." You trembled in their arms as your cries slowly dwindled down to the occasional sniffle. "Th-They said that you guys were only dating me o-out of pity and that I was nothing compared to you, a-and how I was jus-just a nuisance," you whimpered as you recalled the hurtful words. "A-And I know that's not true. It was so stupid because I know you g-guys love me. B-But it made me r-realize just how insignificant I am compared to a-all of you. I d-don't understand wh-why all of you would settle for a human who won't live nearly as long as you, and w-who can't even use magic." Mammon frowned deeply as he squeezed one of your shoulders. "Treasure, look at me," you shakily did as told. Mammon was staring down at you with a desperate, anxious expression. His eyes found yours and your breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. "Those assholes don't know what they're talkin' about. You're not insignificant. Even here in the Devildom, surrounded by all these different beings, you are so much higher above them. You're the brightest jewel among us MC. You're the only person to have ever formed pacts with all seven of the Lords of the Devildom. You're the ambassador of the human world. You have brought this family closer together in just over a year than anyone has managed in the centuries that we've been alive." Your lip quivered as Levi rubbed your arm. "He's right. I'm the literal embodiment of envy. I can tell you right now that all those people are just saying those things because they're jealous. They're nothing but low-level slimes. But you? You're the big boss that could have them destroyed with a snap of your fingers." Beel looked down at you guiltily as he patted your back. "I shouldn't have left you alone like I did. Even more so, I should've paid closer attention to what was happening around us. I'm sorry you ever had to go through this MC." You released Asmodeus to hug Beelzebub as you snuggled close to him. "It's not your fault, Beel. They were really careful about it when you were around. You couldn't have known," the redhead didn't say anything, he just bent down to envelop you in his arms. The eight of you stood there in the dining room, nestled closely with one other, taking silent comfort in one another without a single care for the world around you. "I think perhaps we should move this to the living room," Asmodeus offered as the boys began to release you from their hug. "Beel can make some snacks, Levi can find us a good movie to watch, Belphie can go gather a bunch of blankets and pillows and the rest of us will stay with you to make sure you don't get too lonely," he cupped your face. "I think a nice lazy day in would be good for everyone. Does that sound good, Beautiful?" I chuckled tearfully and leaned into Asmo's touch. "That sounds perfect. You guys are so nice to me. I don't deserve-" You never got to finish your sentence as Asmodeus captured your lips with his own. With that one kiss, you could feel your worries and doubts melt away as you could feel every ounce of affection,

desire,

and love that Asmodeus felt for you pour into your very being. "That's where you're wrong, dear," he purred softly against your lips. "It is us who don't deserve you," he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking your hand into your own and leading you to the living room. He looked over his shoulder and smirked at his brothers. "Go gather the things. We'll just keep the couch warm while you're at it," you could hear the wink in his tone. "Oi! I want a kiss too!" "Y-Yeah, Asmo! You can't hog MC! That's not fair!" You giggled at Mammon and Levi's protest as you snuggled up to Asmodeus. You were so silly to think for even a second that these demons who follow you around like love-sick puppies would ever tire of you for a second. You were their everything, and they were yours, and nothing anyone said would ever change that.

***And scene! That was a wild ride, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for supporting me with this mini-series and thanks once again to @ang3lsblues for the request that inspired it all!***

899 notes · View notes

shurisneakers · 4 years

Text

harmless (i)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, nonsense writing

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: listen i just needed something to keep my mind busy and a perry the platypus!bucky and dr. doofenshmirtz!reader was the only thing i could think of. dont have any high expectations from this series, you will be sorely disappointed.

If you have any ideas for this series, lemme know!! it’d be cute to write!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Series Masterlist

Bucky Barnes, for all intents and purposes, is edgy.

His SHIELD salary is definitely enough to afford him a simple beanie, gloves even if he’s that eager. His long hair, though a spectacle in itself, isn’t as good at keeping away the cold as he claims it to be.

It’s a personal choice, a fashion statement even, to be roaming the streets in a long flimsy t-shirt that does nothing to accentuate his broad shoulders, and tactical pants that look a little too comfortable.

It’s cold. He says he likes it, to appease his blond haired best friend who insisted that he wear a cardigan at least. He won’t like it in a while, but he would never admit it.

The bike ride to the other side of town for a minor mission takes longer than he expected. The wind rushing by gets his adrenaline racing.

Official missions are long and gruelling, and oftentimes not fun. But it gives him a purpose.

It’s easy, therefore, to find him brooding when he’s not on one.

No one wants their room to be on the receiving end of Bucky’s stress-cleaning sessions. His baking is more appreciated.

So when there’s news of a small time villain creating havoc again, it made sense that he volunteered to go sort it out. No one else wanted the job. They’d all been at it before.

SHIELD didn’t seem particularly bothered either.

“It’s not that serious, Barnes.”

“I’m going.”

“Just stop her from doing whatever dumb plan she has today. She seems to have a new one every week.”

“Can I-”

“This is not an assassination mission.”

“Fine. Can I-”

“No.”

“Fine.”

He didn��t know what to expect. He had an idea of how they should be. Smaller villains tended to be more aggressive, vicious to prove their point. They were here to stay.

He wears his regular gear. Enough knives to make a butcher look away in shame, and guns including, but not limited to, his biceps.

He finally pulls the bike to a stop a few metres away, leaving it out of reach in case things got too out of hand. He didn’t want to have to walk back to the Tower, and his friends, as much as they loved him, would never go out of their way to pick him up. Little shits.

The address is a dingy, plain concrete house near an old construction site. It was flat and felt more like an afterthought than an actual building. It looked more like an abandoned Walmart than an actual villain lair.

The only entrance is the door in the front. He counts to three, lifting his leg to kick it down.

It falls down ungracefully, loud and creaky like it was bound to the doorframe by rust.

The only light source inside is a green light. All the way at the other end on an elevated platform is a desk and a chair facing away from him. He can’t see much other than that.

Someone’s laughter comes back loud and booming. He raises his gun, feet apart in a defensive stance.

“I’ve been expecti-” the voice pauses mid-sentence- “Did you just kick down my door?”

He looks behind him to where the wooden piece is on the floor. He certainly did.

He can finally see you as you stand up, green light illuminating your face. You reach over to the side, pressing a few switches.

He squints when all the lights turn on, pulling the both of you from darkness.

“Dude!” you cry out, face twisting into what only could be described as a mix of horror and disdain. “What’d you do that for?”

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t lower his gun either.

“You’re an Avenger, just fuckin’ pick the lock or something. This is expensive!”

He only watches as you whine, looking beyond him at your now demolished entrance. You take a few steps closer, jumping down from the elevated platform.

“Insurance isn’t going to cover this.” You drag your palm across your fist before extending it towards him. “Pay up.”

He wasn’t sure if he heard you right.

“What?” he finally asked, voice gruff.

“All you superheroes go around, destroying walls and cars in the name of world peace like you own the damn thing. Not today, bitch boy. Pay up.”

He doesn’t have his wallet with him. He didn’t expect to need it.

“I’m supposed to be stopping you.”

“You can do that once you pay for my door.”

You sound resolute, unshaken. A little annoyed. There’s what appears to be a gun in your hand, although it’s unlike any weapon he’s seen before.

“What’s your plan?” Bucky looks at your hand. Your stare follows his. You lift the thing up and he tenses.

“I was going to freeze some jerk but now my plan is to get you cancelled on Twitter.”

“Why?” his eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Local superhero destroys property of tax paying citizen for no good reason.”

“I mean-” he shakes his head, discarding what you’re saying, “-why were you going to freeze someone?”

“Because I wanted to. But you’ve ruined the mood now, so that won’t happen.”

He blinks, lowering his weapon when he realises you weren’t making any attempt to move. “What’s your ulterior motive?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to mildly inconvenience that stupid fuck for being such a prick.”

He doesn’t know what to say.

“Is that the freeze ray?” Bucky asks instead, raising his gun when he realises there’s a very real chance he could end up like his best friend.

“You got a problem with it?” You hold it up carelessly.

“I can’t let you use that.”

“That’s all you’re going to do?” you huff, “Is this what you call an intervention? This is so boring.”

“Give me the freeze ray and no one has to get hurt.”

“No one was going to get hurt in the first place, genius. All this does is slow him down for 5 minutes so he misses the subway.”

There’s nothing technically that evil about what you’re doing. He doesn’t even know how you ended up on SHIELD’s radar. He gets why no one was particularly driven to take this seriously.

“And for fuck’s sake put that gun away. You’re not scaring me.”

He doesn’t oblige, even though something tugs at him, telling him that you’re speaking the truth.

“Here, take the stupid thing.” You don’t bother waiting for his response, bending over and sliding the gun towards his feet. “I’ll find another way to get back at that dickhead.”

It hits his boot with a small thud. He looks down. Its design is ridiculously comical, like you ripped it straight out of a kid’s TV show.

“Next time, bring some drama. Wear a cape or something.” You wave him off. “Now get out of my lair. I need to fix the door.”

“You don’t have another one of these lying around, do you?”

“Why, do your friends want one too?” The glare you give him is dangerous. He doesn’t react to it. “No, it’s limited edition. I don’t build the same thing twice.”

“You have others?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” A smile grows on your face, dropping as quickly as it arrives. “SHIELD will tell you if I do. Now leave.”

Bucky looks at the freeze ray in his hand. He supposes his job is done. He was told to stop you, but you didn’t seem to have any inclination to go on with your plan.

“You can ask them if you want, they know about me.” You roll your eyes. “Go ahead, call them.”

He doesn’t want to take a chance. As odd as the situation is, it’s still novel and he isn’t quite sure how to deal with it.

He tucks your weapon under his arm, pressing his phone to his ear.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” Maria’s voice is crisp as ever.

“I confiscated a... freeze ray.” He feels ridiculous even saying it. “But I’m going to bring her in to SHIELD headquarter-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But we can’t trust-”

“We’ve been keeping tabs on her for a while. She’s more or less harmless. You can take the rest of the night off, Sergeant.”

He cuts the call, not entirely at ease with the smug, expectant look on your face.

Still, he couldn’t disobey direct orders.

“I’m gonna... go.” He mentions towards the gaping hole in the wall.

“That would be ideal, yes.” You nod, crossing your arm over your chest.

“Okay.” He hesitates, but finally takes a step backwards. He peeks over his shoulder as he leaves, but finds you swivelled away from him again.

He steps back outside. The cold greets him again like an old friend. The weight of his weapons feels stupidly embarrassing now.

It’s a long drive back to the Tower. He keeps replaying the entire story in his mind. He’s unsure of whether he made the right call, but no one else really seemed to care.

He had seen weirder things. It came with the gig.

He leaves it at that.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks him when he walks into the living room.

“T’was fine,” he answers, toying with the stupid device he took from you. Maybe he would test it on Clint. He had been getting annoying lately. Breathing too much in Bucky’s general direction.

A part of him feels guilty for his carelessness towards your building. The other part is just bewildered.

That night he looks up the cost it takes to replace a door, making a mental note to draw some money from the ATM soon.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

2K notes · View notes

staygolddindjarin · 3 years

Text

Grief

Chapter One: History

Din Djarin x Reader x a bunch of other star wars characters

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter Warnings: Oof this ones kinda angsty right off the bat- ⚠️ attempted suicide?? Kinda?? Age gap (reader is underage, but don't worry it's just for the sake of backstory and also there's no spicy, so...) mentions of death and afterlife, fluff if you like squint really hard

A/n: hello there... I'm sorry to inflict tumblr with this atrocity, but wattpad had to deal with it so tumblr can too. I wrote a different version of this on my wp with an OC name, but I know that not everyone cares for that so this won't include that. Also this series will be such a slow burn... prepare yourself ahead of time because it's going to be agonizing

Words: 6.3k+

SERIES MASTERLIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Part 1/?

"Pehea gar mar'eyir ni...."

How did you find me....

He came and sat beside me, the sound of metal scraping agaisnt the ground when he knelt first.

"Gar cuyir te shi solus tion'ad comes olar jii. Ni kar'taylir gar jate'shya gar mirdir Ni vaabir," He responded.

You are the only one who comes here now. I know you better than you think I do.

I heaved a deep breath before letting it out in an exhausted sigh. Speaking in my native tongue was something I always appreciated, but now sitting here it felt nearly uncomfortable, but there was a reason for that.

"I wanted to be alone," The words from my mouth were no longer in my language, and he shifted beside me, trying to convey his confusion without a word.

"Care to elaborate?" He suggested, his asking tone was harsh... but then so was everything else about him.

I didn't really feel like explaning my feelings at the moment. I didn't want to focus on the very thing he was asking about. Even though he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was asking.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," I trailed off.

"Try me." His voice wasn't any softer, but the sincerity he rarely showed had seeped into his tone.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. You really won't understand, and for all I know you could make things worse off for me than they already are," I didn't like it when he let his guard down around me. I didn't like getting closer to him, even though I was supposed to.

"I can't force you. Whatever it is, I wouldn't get myself too worked up," He sounded hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it was by my words. He was too strong to be wounded by such trivial things.

He moved in his seat, beginning to stand, and for some reason the thought of being alone like I had originally intended seemed like a horrible idea.

I reached out to grip his arm. I kept my gaze forward, knowing that even if I looked at him I could not see his eyes.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate. He sat down again, and I no longer felt guilt for the hurt in his voice a moment prior.

We sat for a moment in silence, just looking over the cliffside, into the deep canyons that wove in between settlements and encampments of our tribes and clans.

"I don't want this life," I whispered. I had only half hoped he would be paying enough attention to hear me. My voice was soft enough that he might not have.

"What do you mean?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the choice to even say what I did. I felt a shiver go down my arms, and I felt the wind come into the old open cavern, making the air around me chill. My arms were exposed, for I didn't expect the cold tonight. I didn't expect to be here this long.

"I'll turn sixteen in four days. I will either take the creed, or deny everything I've ever been taught. I'd leave if I do that," I finally gave a glance in his direction. He looked back at me, or at least the beskar did. I could never tell where his eyes were.

"You want to leave?" That pained tone of his voice had returned. The one I felt guilty for without actually believing I had done anything to cause it.

I did. I wanted to get off this planet. Away from the responsibility of becoming what everyone expected of me.

"I have to. It's the only way I will ever be at peace, but I'm not sure if I truly have the strength to stand in front of my family and deny the creed."

I could run away. I had some friends who were planning to jump a transport and join the rebellion against the empire.

They had offered me to be apart of this, but I had refused, believing that I would follow in my ancestors footsteps and take the creed. My father had already provided the beskar for my helmet to be made. It was already in the armourer's possession. All that was left was for me to come of age.

"Where did you go, just now?" He noticed my lack of attentiveness to my current reality, and brought me back to where I was. On the drafty cliffside, with my legs hanging over the end.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking about the future," I had admitted. Though I felt the need to stay emotionally distant from him, and not let myself develop a closeness, I knew I could trust him with my life, which is why I even revealed these things to him in the first place.

"What do you think your future will look like?" The tone that brought me guilt had again left his voice, but was replaced by something else... was it fear? I could not even think of theorizing that he could ever be scared. He was one of the bravest in his clan. Never had he shown an ounce of fear to anyone or anything. How stupid of me to even wonder.

"Merc and his crew are gonna stow away on a crate transport tomorrow. He has contact with the rebellion. He said that I could go with them if I was up for it," I looked down, almost embarrassed at admitting a plan of escape to someone so loyal to this place. Even though he wasn't born on this planet, and even though he wasn't a blood member of any tribe, the foundling was more of a mandalorian than I could ever be.

"You've agreed?"

"No. Not yet," I shook my head. I didn't feel like my reasons were valid. Having him sit beside me, and ask me these things made me realize that I needed to explain myself further.

"Din, I want to be free. I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a code that is so restricting to me, binding my every decision. Everything I'd do would have to be following after the creed."

He didn't respond, and even though his features were shrouded under the reflective surface of his beskar, I could tell he was thinking of something.

"I'm not yet sixteen, but when I am... I don't want to be locked down under a piece of metal. I don't want to have to be bound to this planet or a clan. I want to go some place far away and be something that is different than what everyone expects of me. I want to fight battles against the empire, I want to make my own rules. I want to be free to marry who I love, and not be betrothed to whoever my father chooses for me," I finished off my speech about freedom, but realized the last sentence too late. I should have chosen a better set of words.

Din's head hung down, looking at the wrist guards he wore. He shook his head back and forth and before I could interject, he began speaking.

"So that's why...." he trailed off. I was honestly too scared to say anything now. Why must I speak so bluntly and hurtfully honest to people? Perhaps it is because I had never gotten close to him that now I had no fear in what I said to his face.

"If the reason you plan to leave your family is because of me, then-"

"No," I said harshly, catching him off guard. I was usually snippy with others, but I had never before shown a tendency to be angry or intense with my speech. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you."

"You have always shown enthusiasm towards coming of age. It's only now, when we are arranged, that you show any difference," He brought on certainty in his voice that I nearly couldn't deny, but the truth was... it really wasn't about him. "I can converse with your father, the rest of the clan... I will find a way to break it off if it will make you stay."

"Din, I don't want you to do that. If you don't believe me when I tell you that you are not the cause of this, then so be it, but I will not have you ruining your good name in my favor, when it won't even stop me," The heat of the moment provided actual, physical warmth for me in the time I was running my mouth off, but now that I had finished, and begun to calm down, I felt the freezing air on my arms again, wrapping them around myself and drawing my legs closer to generate more body heat.

"Are you cold?" He changed the subject, needing something- anything else to say.

"Its not exactly warm up here," My voice was low and sarcastic, but at hearing my words, Din stood up and stepped behind me. Before I even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, I felt his thick woolen cape being draped around my shoulders.

I smiled softly, not even a real, full smile. More of just a small tug from the side of my lips. My real smile was saved for later.

"Thank you."

He nodded as he sat back down, letting his legs fall over the cliffside.

"So you're gonna leave with them, aren't you?" His head turned to face me, but I couldn't dare try and stare at the beskar while thinking of what I would do. This choice was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I think so," I didn't think. Thinking was what I had been doing too much of. Now I was certain. This was my choice. I was going to start new, and become something different. I may have been born on mandalore, but I was definitely not a mandalorian.

I had a rush of confidence come through me until I remembered what this meant. It all hit me like a dropship coming out of hyperspace. What was I thinking?

"No," I whispered. Din didn't understand my sudden discouragement, but he would soon.

"Merc and his friends already denied the creed. He's a foundling. They all are," I started to tear up as I realized what would happen to my family. The loss of a child in a clan is bad enough, but my family hadn't done anything to dessrve this. They were caring. They had shown me love. They had given me the best life I could ask for on a planet with such a religion.

"Second thoughts?" He asked genuinely, scooting closer beside me as to maybe get more information from my body language, or even my breathing.

"I can't do this. My family would be ruined. If I ran away, they would be punished for it," I felt tears coming up in my eyes. My clan was good to me. The people were kind, and I found solace there. Even if I had always dreamt about something bigger, I couldn't bear to let ruin come upon my family name. It wasn't fair to let that happen, especially when the only thing in the way was my own selfishness. "I can't leave my family."

I let the tears stream down my face, not even bothering to wipe them away. The contrast of the cold wind on my hot, tear streaked face had helped to calm me down a little.

"If you plan on staying, you understand that I am apart of your future here, don't you?"

"Din, I already told you before... you are not the reason I want to leave," I tried my best to keep myself together, but with my wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes, I didn't see how that could be an option.

What if there was another way to freedom?

I sat, trying to think of some stories that the other clan members would talk about.

"Din?"

He hummed in response, keeping his gaze on me.

"Has anyone in your clan ever mentioned afterlife?" I maybe should have taken a different approach to this. He seemed to be rendered speechless by my topic of conversation, but I had to ask.

"You mean after death?" He asked me and I nodded.

"I've heard some stories."

I thought about how it had been described to me. A paradise, with never-ending happiness, and unlimted freedom. Freedom.

"After you die, you appear in the world as another life. You can do whatever you want and no one has consequences for any of it. It's like a world without chaos. Everything is perfect," I remember every word as it comes out of my mouth. The words that were spoken to me, more like taught to me when I was a bit younger by the elders who had retired from their days of battle.

"It sounds too easy." He said, ripping me out of my fantasy.

"That's the point. You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, because you can do as you please, and everything will still be the same. All you have to do is die...."

"Like being reborn into a different world."

"Exactly."

I hesitated to take my safety blaster from it's holster under my hip, and when I did, I looked at it before pointing it out in the distance and testing the trigger. It shot a blast of lazer energy out into the air, landing somewhere beneath us in the canyon.

I decided that this was not an act to pursue at the moment, for Din was sitting right beside me, and the sight of watching a young girl pull the trigger against her own head might be an unpleasant one. Even for him, though he has seen worse.

I put the blaster back in it's holster and stand up from the rocky ground. Din follows suit, looking down at me with quiet concern. I wouldn't have known it until now, but I wondered if he had come to care for me at all during these last few weeks we had been betrothed.

I'd known him the majority of my life anyways, so I knew he must have felt some sort of attachment to me, but in what form, I hadn't ever cared to ask.

He kept breathing heavily as he looked down at me for a few moments, and it almost sounded like he wanted to ask me something. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"Here's your cape back," I slid the material off my shoulders, trying to hand it back to him, but he pushed it back towards me.

"You should keep it for now. The sun is nearly down, it will only grow colder."

He reached his gloved hand up to my face, and I could swear I felt the warmth of his hand beneath the coarse leather.

I only nodded, and leaned forward, trying to lean my head into him, but he carefully stopped me, his hands on my shoulders. Instead he rested his helmet against my forhead, and the cold beskar wasn't such a bad feeling as it rested there.

"I won't let you down. I promise." He said, clueless of my plans for later tonight, after the tribes were asleep, and no one would be at the cliffside.

"I know you won't. You're a good man, Din Djarin." I paused, trying to gather better words. "A true Mandalorian if there ever was one."

The moment didn't last any longer because of how frigid the air was becoming. It was warmer back with the tribes, they always had a fire burning.

Without another word, we both left the old artillery cavern and hiked down the side of the canyon to get back to our own clan territory.

Once I was at the edge of mine, I turned around to utter a simple goodbye, and found that he was very close behind me. His hand came up and rested on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

Maybe this was the last time we would see each other. Tonight I would envoke my plan to freedom, to rebirth. Perhaps we would meet in another life. Perhaps I would have just enough memory of this life to try and find him in the next one. One where I will have freedom.

Tonight I had gotten closer to the metal clad Mandalorian than I ever had before. I didn't regret it. He listened to what I had to say, and there were few who ever did.

His hand fell from it's place on my shoulder, but I didn't let him walk away yet. I pulled him into an embrace, feeling him tense up for a moment before reciprocating. It took him a few seconds to let out the breath he was holding in, but when he did, he found himself relaxing into the comfort.

"Goodbye, Din," My voice wasn't sad, or overly sensitive in any way. I figured it actually sounded quite optimistic.

"You know I'll see you tomorrow." He said, reminding me of the clan meetings. Once a month the clans would gather and each tribe would go over the agenda for whatever was to happen soon. Battles were normally discussed, but tomorrow, me and a few of the others in the other clans would be talked about. Our ceremonial coming of age where we would take the creed.

"Yeah... right. Don't come looking for me, I don't plan on showing up," I said quietly, careful in anyone was to hear me.

He pulled me back at arms length and looked at me, but his black blast shield hid his features and I could not tell if he thought I was crazy or not.

"How come?" His voice was also quiet, as we noticed some of my clan passing by to get to the fire.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still see me tomorrow," I lied. Or did I? Everyone within the five neighboring tribes would probably see me tomorrow.

He nodded, pulling us all the way apart and stepping back.

"Good."

He didn't look like he was gonna walk away until I had gone into the hub of my clan's small village. I turned around and walked towards the large fire, seeing my mother. Her helmet was unmistakable. The pattern of the strill engraved into the side of the beskar. It was her signet. A worthy kill of her days in battle. I would never have one. I walked towards her when she noticed me.

Her modulated voice let out a small chuckle, before I stepped beside her.

"It is well to see you spending time with Din Djarin. Me and your father were afraid you may not have been fond of him," She kept her gaze on the fire, speaking only loud enough for me to hear her, given that the other mandalorians of our village were also gathering around the fire, conversing with each other the same way we were.

"I am fond of him, why would I not be?" I was unsure of what she meant. Sure, I had been keeping a distance between us since my father had arranged our marriage, but I never had shown that I wasn't fond of him. I was polite, and gave him attention when it was asked of me.

"Whenever I or your father bring up the discussion of your eighteenth birthday, you always seem to act like it's the plague," She was smirking under her helmet, and I could tell. I could always tell what face she made underneath her metal covering.

"Maybe it's the fact that I dread getting married at all. I'm not opposed to Din, though," I convinced her. I wouldn't have to try and do that again after tonight.

"Whatever it is, your father will be pleased to know you and him were in each other's company. Although I will stray from telling him you two were alone... you were alone, weren't you?" She turned her metal covered head, trying to figure out from the look on my face.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, knowing there was no point in lying. No damage could be done at this point, except for maybe towards Din.

"And what were you both doing?" She tilted her head, and I let mine drop. I would tell her the truth, because nothing bad could come from it. Or could it.

"We were just talking... about the future," I answered.

"Your marriage..." She suggested, and I nodded, knowing that it did come up in the conversation.

"Yes."

"I shudder to ask if consummating was apart of this conversation," She looked back at the fire, knowing how red my cheeks would turn and how embarrassed I would be.

"No, nothing like that. I can promise you," I shivered at the thought. Din was a good man, but I didn't necessarily need to be letting thoughts like that intrude my mind.

Everyone else around the fire seemed to be distracted by the glowing flames, and my mother was soon the same, so I suggested my absense.

"I'm going to go in for the night, get some rest. Big meeting tomorrow..." I said before reaching out and squeezing her hand tightly.

She nodded to me, and I took my leave, walking towards our living quarters on the opposite side of camp.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and brushed my shoulder against Merc, who was with Gander and Shyloh.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming," I told him, but he shook his head, optiing ti ask me a question instead.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for you anyway... Did you think about the offer? We leave at sunrise on the north delivery tarmac," He informed me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't staying here, but I wasn't leaving either.

"You'll know if I show up," I gave him a smirk, partially just because I was glad to see someone's actual face tonight, and not just a metal facade.

"We can't wait up for you, just know that."

I nodded, letting them get by. Maybe I could go with them. Live this life freely without starting another one.

No.

My family will not be able to handle that. It's better off if I'm dead. At least they won't go on to believe that I betrayed them, turning my back on all loyalty they had ever taught me. They would nevwr wonder if I ever loved them or planned on keeping their wishes.

I could start fresh. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry anymore either. Rebirth.

I went straight to bed, clutching the woolen blanket beside me close to my chest.

For some reason I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Something that made the sting of salty tears swell in my eyes. I knew that what I was doing was best, but yet I started having a hard time justifying something so drastic. They would get on fine without me, wouldn't they? They would go on living by the creed. This is the way. They will find a way to go on without me, like they did before I was born. Din will be arranged with another girl as soon as I'm gone. Everything will be alright.

The wetness that spilled over my eyes and down my face lasted hours, even though my mind kept telling itself that it was at peace.

It was in the dead of night, when I gathered a few of my belongings into a knapsack, throwing it over my shoulder before leaving out the tattered window of my private space.

I ventured to the canyon, with the moons lighting my way. The planet was never truly dark, due to the brightness and the number of shinning moons, all the color silver.

I set my knapsack down on the edge beside me. By the end of this, I would be at the bottom, waiting to be found the next day. I just hoped it wouldn't be anyone I knew. Of course, the number of people who ever came out here was only two. Me, and Din Djarin.

I hoped he wouldn't find me. I hoped it would be someone from another tribe that was flying over, and happened to spot something at the base of the cliffside.

I pulled my flask to my mouth, taking a large drink. A bit spilled onto my chin, and I wiped it off, feeling the breeze on my face. It was much colder now than earlier tonight. I wasn't sure if I should pull the blanket from my belongings and wrap it around myself, or skip the process of making myself comfortable and just get this over with.

I leaned over, looking straight at the ground, hundreds of feet below me. My heart started racing, and I got scared. Why shouldn't I be? I have every right to be absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes, trying to scoot myself over the edge inch by inch, seeing if I would just drop.

I nearly panicked when my bottom hit a crack in the ground and I thought I was going over. My breath hitched in my throat and I instantly pulled myself back.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it would be," I murmered, beginning to feel the emotional side of everything rise to the surface again. It didn't help that with the absolute silence that circled around me, I couldn't have any single thing to distract me.

I stood to my feet, wrapping my arms around myself to ease the goosebumps rising on my skin from the frigid air.

I stood right on the edge, lifting a foot over and leaning forward, but before I could fall, I again caught myself, the adrenaline working overtime in my system and beginning to heat me up.

That wasn't going to work either. If I could, I would put a blaster to my temple and pull the trigger, but then it wouldn't look like an accident.

I paced around back and forth a few times, trying to calm myself down, to stop the whimpering and to make my tears cease. It wasn't working. I just needed to get this over and done with. A new life, with endless possibilities was waiting for me on the other side. Freedom was on the other side.

I wiped my face, even though it didn't stop me from crying, but it helped me to see clearer. I backed up, into the cavern, all the way inside until my back hit the wall of the ex artillery carvern. This was it. A new beginning. Rebirth. New life. Freedom.

I ran as fast as I could toward the edge, my eyes closed. I could feel the wind blowing against me even harder with my speed, and I could tell the edge was drawing near. Every step I took, I felt as though it was my last one.

I finally felt my foot hit the edge, but then I never fell. Instead, I was tackled to the ground. Whoever landed on top of me was heavy enough to hold me down, because half of me was hanging off the edge of the cliff.

I didn't dare even open my eyes. This was a sign. Someone stopped me.

I clinged onto whoever it was, and knew almost instantly who was laid over me when I heard him groan.

I cried even harder, my head buried in his armor clad chest, and my arms around his neck and his torso.

He was holding me tightly, one hand cradled my head into his neck, and the other firmly gripped my waist. He rolled us both over and I swear I felt him shaking.

"What were you thinking?" He stressed, his grip on me tightening as if he was scared to let go. I was scared too. I didn't want him to let go.

"You have to talk to me..."

I heaved a deep breath, deep enough to steady my voice so my whimpering didn't interfere with my words.

"I want out. I need to get out," I cracked in the middle of saying so few words, but they conveyed the message I was trying to get through.

"I can get you out, I promise.... But please don't ever try that again," His voice was full of worry, and as I suspected, he was trembling in fear.

"I'm sorry..." I cried some more, realizing that what I had done was now the biggest mistake I ever made, even if I was saved.

"It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," He spoke to me, my voice quieting down as my sobbing came to a slow halt.

I lifted my face from where I had burrowed it into his neck, looking up at him. I didn't know what his expression was, but something told me it was fearful, and worrysome.

"I have to get out of here," I repeated again. The last day or so it became my mantra, and would leave my lips often, even just to myself. Mostly just to myself.

"You're going to. You're going with Merc... when are they leaving?" He asked, his arms still around me like mine were for him.

"At sunrise. They're gonna jump a delivery ship on the north tarmac," I explained, my voice was now hoarse and thick, due to not only all the crying I had done, but also the cold night air that had entered my lungs.

"Sunrise isn't for a few hours..." he let me know, and I nodded, knowing we shouldn't probably leave yet, for the walk to the north tarmac wasn't very long from here.

"Din, if I leave, my family is going to get the fire for my decision. I can't let that happen," I told him, my voice had become more firm, and I needed to convey the importance of how much this meant to me.

"I give you my word, that as long as I live, nothing will happen to your family," He swore, and I could just feel his eyes staring into mine. So much so that for the first time since he put that helmet on, I knew where his eyes were.

"I trust you. And I know that you'll always keep your word," I nodded, a small smile finally forming on my face.

Since it got fairly quiet, and we were still entangled together, I scooted off of Din and opted instead to take the seat beside him.

"I should tell you some things before I go. I just don't want to leave anything unresolved," I admitted, and he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I know this might sound horrible, but I hated the idea of getting too close to you. It was like if I had formed an emotional bond with you, I wouldn't be able to leave anymore. And the last thing on my mind had been to stay. I've wanted freedom for a while now, I was just always too scared to say anything. And when my father told me that you and him had come to an agreement for arranging a marriage.... it's like it all became more real to me. My freedom would be taken in just days. The creed of mandalore is sacred, and it's truly an amazing thing... but it isn't for everyone."

He sat and took everything in. All the words that just spewed from my mouth like I had been holding them in for ages went against everything I had ever learned. Everything that had ever been put into my mind was the opposite of what I wanted.

"You're young. You want more than what the creed can offer you. I think you'll be able to find what you want wherever you're going," He said, I knew there was more, for he didn't even mention anything that I had said about not wanting to be close to him, but when he stayed silent, I knew he was finished, and that I still had more to say.

"Din, I wanted to tell you that if I had to be married, I wouldn't have minded it being you," I admitted. I would leave no stone unturned before I was to just pick up and leave forever... maybe not forever, maybe someday I would return to my family, to Din.

"I can't say I don't feel the same," He seemed to become stiff next to me, but I soon found the reason when he suddenly reached for my hand with his gloved one.

I took it proudly, intertwining our finhers together.

"You know, I was only an eight year old kid when you took the creed. I have so many memories of you yourself, but whenever I recall them... I can't see your face. I've completely forgotten what you look like," I laughed a bit, though it was quite a sad thing actually. I could not remember him in a way that wasn't covered in metal. I remembered that he was a boy once, and that he would play with all the younger children in the clan set next to his. He played with me and the kids I lived next to. He was a lively, energetic boy. Always doing something... sometimes causing mischievous acts. He was so different now. But the change wasn't bad. Since he'd taken the creed he has been the most noble, fearsome, and trustworthy member of his clan. Completely honorable in every sense of the word.

"I don't look like I used to. It wouldn't do you any good to remember anyways," He chuckled under his helmet, and it brought a smile to hear the melodic sound.

"Well, if I'd stayed long enough to marry you I would find out for myself," I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling comfort by his presence. If I had made the absolute decision to leave this planet earlier, I could have let myself grow a relationship with him. Romantic or not, he was easy to talk to, and I trusted him. He was a friend to me, and I never imagined more, but now his presence was just something that put me at such ease.

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" He pondered, seeing as just the tiniest moonrays shown down into the canyon ahead.

"Someday. I'll comeback and repay you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life," I replied. My attempt to throw my own life away had been pushed away but I had to bring it up. I owed him my life.

"Anyone would have done the same if they had seen," He insisted, and I shook my head.

"How did you even know I was out here?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked for an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep, I took a walk through Ronion until I found myself here. I saw you across from the mesa on the south side... I saw you lift your foot over the edge, I knew what you were trying to do," He said, his grip on my hand got tighter almost instantly.

"Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I would be at the bottm of this canyon." I let so much seriousness onto my voice, and it didn't sound like me.

"Don't thank me yet... not until I get you on the tarmac,"

We sat in silence after that, just looking out over the horizon. When the slightest bit of light hit the edge of the planet, we stood to our feet, gathering my knapsack and begining the journey to the north delivery tarmac.

We were there in no time, and before I could even look for them, Merc and his crew were in sight. They were all sitting with their backs against some cargo imports, waiting for the transport to arrive.

"Well, well, well... look at what the shriek hawk dragged in," Shyloh said, gesturing to me and Din.

"Djarin, I didn't expect to see you here," Merc raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I'm just here to make sure she gets onto the transport safely," He assured them. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and in the brighter horizon I was able to see a cargo ship coming into the landing area.

"Our rides here," I said, and they all jumped up. Since the ships were automatically run, and don't even require droids, it was often very easy to hop aboard and be carried to another destination. Of course, there were only a few who ever wanted to leave.

I myself hadn't ever left Mandalore, neither had I traveled much even on the planet. Only a few trips to visit the the markets with my father. I never even went into the city, for it was told that in the city lived Mandalorians who did not keep the creed. The tribes were convinced that they hadn't actually ever taken the oath, and just wore the armor for the sake of doing it.

The ship's doors opened, pulling me out of my thoughts, and a conveyer belt folded down to let the cargo units be carried out onto the tarmac for later pickup.

"Alright, it's time to head out," Gander said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and boarding the transport.

The rest followed after him, but I still had one thing left to do.

Din looked at me, waiting for me to join the others, but I came close to him one last time.

"You promise my family will be taken care of?" I asked, to which he simply answered with a firm nod. However the look on my face gave him reason to believe that his answer wasn't good enough, so he spoke instead.

"I give you my word. If they are not taken care of, I will let you strike me dead where I stand."

That was good enough for me. He truly meant it. He was a man of his word.

I pulled his head toward mine, resting ny forehead against his in a traditional mandalorian kiss. I pulled back when I heard my name being called from the transport.

"Goodbye, Din Djarin," I told him.

He didn't respond, he just let me go, watching intently as I boarded the ship before the doors closed.

The cargo transports were always on schedule, so as soon as the doors closed, it began lifting into the air. I looked out through the transparent view finder on the side, watching him stand as we began moving out of sight.

"You gonna miss him?" Shyloh asked, his brows furrowing as if he were sorry for me.

"Yes, I suppose I will."

I lost sight of Din, and realized we were leaving the atmosphere most likely preparing for a jump to hyperspace.

"But I'll see him again."

Tags are open ig...

A/n: please don't get too caught up in the age gap y'all it's just for backstory purposes because this story is eventually going to follow canon events.... (also i know that this doesn't really portray Mandalore correctly, but let's pretend it does because i had this idea)

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x oc #din djarin x jedi!reader #cassian andor #luke skywalker #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #rough day #din djarin series #din djarin imagine #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst

227 notes · View notes

takafritzz · 3 years

Note

HEY NOMGSJSKEHSKSJ !!!!!!!! I MEAMT LIMKE IWA AMD Y/N THEN OIKAWA AND Y/N !!719&#! IMNSO SORRY FOR NOT CKARIFYING IT BETTRS !! AHAHAHAHAHAHSBDJEJEHRKDGDKDH

hihi!! ohmygodi'msosorryfornotunderstandingaaaaaahhhhh. well, i'm an idiot! of course i can do that, my precious anon!! thank you so so much for your lovely request. i love you; stay safe + drink water!! <333 (btw tell me if you want a part two, cause these were super fun to write. i loved em. hehe).

request: Can you write a "they find out they're gonna be dads" with the pairs ?? Like iwaizumi and oikawa/ kuroo and kenma/ ushijima and tendou/ and asahi amd noya ?? Plz ? Post-timeskip obvs !! Take ur time !! Have a great day !!!! 💖💗💓💝💞💟❣💘

Finding Out They're Gonna Be Dads Haikyuu Post-Timeskip HC's!

iwaizumi: at first, hajime would just sort of stand there, mouth agape as he registered the positive pregnancy test in your hand and the sentence you had just uttered. 'hajime, you're gonna be a dad'. did he really hear that right? there was no way. 'really?'. he swallowed nervously. you nodded, and that was all it took for him to crouch down beside you on the bathroom floor and envelop you in his arms, pulling you tight against him. he tried his best to blink away his tears, but he couldn't stop a few sniffles from escaping. after all, sharing a kid with you was something hajime had often dreamt of, and now his dream was coming true. he couldn't ask for more.

oikawa: this man wouldn't know how to act initially. 'i'm sorry, what, princess?'. he'd just stand there, internally panicking but trying to keep a cool head. but once you confirmed your earlier statement, his smirk would be replaced with an excited grin and his eyes would widen tenfold. 'wow. wow!'. he'd pick you up, peppering your face with kisses as he muttered 'i love you's and 'thank you's, because while tōru had never explicitly objected to the idea of having a baby with you, it was something he never really knew that he wanted. he was so busy with his life with just you that he never even considered the possibility of another small human in it. yet here he was.

kuroo: he would be completely different to the cocky, annoying guy you were used to. a small giggle would escape his lips because of the disbelief he was in. 'it is mine, right?' he'd try to play off his nervousness with a joke, but you saw through his exterior. you simply nodded, lips pursed as you tried to keep your emotions from overwhelming you. 'oh my god' he choked out in a whisper. a palm flew up to cover his mouth while his other hand wrapped around your waist and hugged you to his chest. all you could do was hug him back, unable to respond from how happy you were. 'i'm gonna be a dad' you heard the bright grin in his voice.

ushijima: i feel like he wouldn't really sob or cry or anything like that, mainly because he's not super emotional as a person. 'i'm going to be the father of our baby?'. 'yeah, toshi'. 'and you'll be the mother of my child'. this time, it isn't a question. it's more of a statement. you silently nodded. 'mhmm'. alright, there may be a few tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and they'll likely glisten a bit or whatever. he'll just slowly approach you, taking in your beauty all over again like the first time he saw you. because now he sees you differently; he sees you as this amazing, strong woman who's gonna hold a part of him. he's just so astounded by this new, domestic life you'll share.

kenma: kenma's probably the type of guy to not even want a kid in the first place, but when he sees your face as you break the news of your pregnancy to him, he's a goner. he's practically melting, and all he can imagine now is raising a mini version of the both of you together. 'my baby?'. he might not be able to find all the right words, but trust me when i say his heart is overflowing with utter adoration. he's so happy that he's going to be the father of your child, and what makes him even happier is that he didn't think he needed this in his life until this very moment. there are tears pouring out of his eyes, and all he can do is cling onto you and think of the future.

tendō: oh my god, satori's had baby fever since day one, i don't even know how you dealt with him enough to wind up bearing his child. 'no. no way'. he's cautious at first, cause one million thoughts are racing through his head right now. once you tell him you're serious, he's officially lost it. 'y/n, if this is some kind of prank, i'll never forgive you' he threatens. you shake your head, assuring him the news is true. 'WOO!' he jumps up multiple times, fist pumping the air and beaming from ear to ear. he whisks you into his arms bridal style, kissing virtually any exposed skin he can find. 'yes, yes, yes! i'm gonna be a dad!'. yeah, he happy cries for as long as you'll let him.

asahi: 'p-pregnant?' he puts down his glasses, looking away from his laptop screen to meet your eyes instead. 'yeah, 'sahi'. you smile tentatively. he stands up, and you can see tears already welling up in his eyes. he takes your hands in his, gingerly rubbing circles with his thumbs. this poor baby is so dumbfounded he doesn't know what to do. 'so we're gonna be parents'. he takes things step by step. 'yeah' you scoff. he laughs along, cupping your face in his hands and pressing a long, chaste kiss to your forehead. 'thank you so much for everything. i can't wait to start our family together'. his cheek rests on top of your head. you stay there for a while, holding him.

nishinoya: give him time, okay? cause when you tell him, his first reaction is to ask you to repeat yourself again. and again. and again. 'you're serious, babe?' he still doesn't know whether he can trust the information. the second he does, though, he's so vulnerable in a way you've never seen before. picture him slowly crawling up to you with a wavering smile on his lips. once he reaches you, he'll sit on his knees, wrap his arms around your waist and place his ear against your stomach if you'll let him. 'my beautiful baby is in there. wow. we made that. us. together.' truly baffled at this miracle of life. prepare for nine months of this boy never leaving your side.

thanks for reading!! likes + reblogs appreciated. have a good day! <3

267 notes · View notes

spideyhexx · 3 years

Text

filthy; s. r.

pairing; steve rogers x female!reader

a/n: this is dedicated to @vineridden💕 mean/evil steve is superior

masterlist reblogs/comments/feedback is appreciated!

summary; you intentionally piss steve off, but at least you get what you want!

NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI PLEASE!!!

WARNINGS: mean!steve. lots of teasing/humiliation. slapping. hair pulling. oral (female receiving). riding. crying but good crying. unprotected sex. squirting. spitting/cumplay.

word count; 2.6k

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

You’d be lying to yourself if you said making Steve angry was an accident.

Granted, it’s pretty easy to piss him off. He wanted everything to be perfect, always. Mister “my plan is the best plan” even though the old Captain has had his fair share of mishaps.

Ever since the tension broke between you and Steve just a few weeks ago, a fiery kiss that resulted in him pounding into you against his bedroom wall, he’s been a bit more cold.

You can’t tell if he’s being rude to continue fucking with you or if he truly regrets having sex. Either way, you wanted to light his fuse. You wanted to see the deep crease in his brow and how serious his face gets.

All you did was take a turn in the dimly lit, abandoned HYDRA facility.

Albeit a left turn instead of a right, like Steve instructed you to. How were you supposed to know a group of HYDRA agents were stashed away in one of the rooms in that hallway?

Regardless, it still jeopardized the mission and cut it short, leaving the team empty handed.

To be fair, you felt a little bad. Rebelling against Steve’s orders to purposely get on his bad side was fun, but maybe you took it too far? Nobody got hurt, but also nothing was accomplished.

Usually when Steve was mad he’d shout a few angry words at someone but this time he’s completely silent.

He gives you a stern look before jumping in the passenger seat, shrugging off questions from the team.

You began to worry you did take it too far. But a light ‘ping’ sound goes off and you check your phone to see a text from the Captain himself.

Skip the debriefing. Come to my room after you wash up.

The text bubbles pop up then disappear, leaving you with those two sentences to interpret and overthink the whole way back to the compound.

You couldn’t scrub the dirt off of your body faster as you take the quickest shower of your life.

Pondering for only a moment before deciding, fuck it, you throw on your favorite lacy set, covering it with a big t shirt. As you walk down the hallway to Steve’s room, you hope to dear god he’s really as into you as you are into him.

He’s most likely still mad at you, but that’s how you got fucked in the first place. You called him a jerk and it struck him deeper than you expected. So he fucked you until the only words out of your mouth were about how perfect he was.

You knock lightly on his door and it whips open. Steve pulls you in and shuts the door with a kick.

“Would you like to explain yourself?”

He stands tall with his arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at you expectantly. His eyes quickly look down at your bare thighs. You feel small under his stare.

“I just took the wrong turn,” you state and he scoffs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Just took the wrong turn, my ass.”

“Listen-”

“No! No, you know what?!”

Steve lets out a deep sigh before continuing,“I don’t care if it was just some wrong turn you cost us this fucking mission! Now we have to regroup and make sure we have a competent team next time, not including you.”

You stare at him wide eyed.

“Uh, no you’re not benching me,” you start but he’s standing his ground, shaking his head at you.

“Well I am. Because I’m allowed to, that’s what a Captain does right? Based on your actions honey, I think you deserve a time out.” he says.

The nickname falters you for a moment, stopping any words that were about to come out of your mouth. Steve notices, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh, I see,” he mumbles, stalking over to you and leaning closer to your face. You wonder if he could feel the heat radiating off of your cheeks.

“Was this a little ploy to get back in my bedroom? Hmm?”

His eyes bore into you, as though he was trying to read your mind. Your eyes lock onto his and you try to keep a straight face as his gaze drops to your lips.

“Tell me, honey.”

You say nothing and a slight smirk etches it way onto Steve’s face.

“Really? Quiet treatment? I’ll talk for you then. I think you fucked up the mission just to be here...with me...right now. Was my dick really that tempting? Such a desperate girl. Selfish, too really. Don’t give a fuck about anything because you got cockdrunk after one fuck. What a-”

You strike a quick slap across Steve’s face before he could finish and his head barely moves. He chuckles and you grip your hand that’s stinging slightly.

“Is that all you got? That’s your slap?”

Steve moves away from you to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” you mutter. You did slap him as hard as you could.

“It really is. You can’t fucking slap. Try it again,” he demands while still sporting his teasing smile.

You lay your hand on his cheek lightly before pulling away and slapping him as hard as you could. It is definitely a little harsher than the last, but Steve still laughs.

“That was a little better, but still shit. You want me to show you how it’s done?”

Steve cups your face in both of his hands, his thumbs drumming against your cheekbones. You nod at him eagerly.

“Ah, ah, you know I want to hear you say it, honey,” Steve teases, then leans his lips down to your ear, “tell your Captain you want him to slap you.”

You feel yourself melt into his touch already and you take a very quick moment to thank the heavens for already how good it feels to be like this with Steve.

“Captain, I want you to slap me.”

Steve moves one of his hands down your body to grip your waist. The other one rubs your cheek affectionately one more time before he draws his hand back and strikes it across your face. You whimper and his hand is back on your face, soothing the burning skin.

“You see? That’s how you hit someone.”

His hand drifts down to lightly grasp your neck. You jut your bottom lip out at him and he smiles.

“You’re a brat,” he mumbles, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting it.

Your breaths are heavy and before you could respond, Steve’s pressing his lips to yours. He grips your hips with both of his hands, shoving you as close to his body as possible.

You rake your nails through his hair and he bites your lip again, making you moan.

Steve pulls away breathless, “look at you, already moaning? Seriously? Fuck, you’re going to be so noisy once I get my cock in here.”

He cups your core and moans when he feels your lace underwear.

“Look who’s moaning now,” you retort and Steve winds his hand into your hair, pulling harshly.

“Get on the fucking bed,” he spits out and carelessly lets go of you. Without hesitation, you get on his bed, lying on your back.

Steve rucks up the shirt you have on and tosses it over his head.

“I really didn’t think you could possibly seem more desperate, but look at this.”

Steve trails a finger down your bra strap, then above your tits.

“Got yourself all pretty looking for me. I wasn’t wrong when I said you were cockdrunk.”

“Steve,” you whine out, your hands fisting the sheets a smidge tighter, even though he’s barely touching you.

“Steeeve,” he mocks your whine as he moves down the bed to settle between your legs. Roughly, he pulls them apart, placing each of your thighs over his shoulders.

Steve presses a quick kiss to your inner thigh before his lips are right above your core. His fingers trail the waistband of your underwear, then down the middle. The action already had you trying to buck your hips.

“None of that. Or do you want me to keep making fun of you?”

“Just...just get on with it, please,” you beg him and Steve chuckles.

“Filthy girl, can’t wait, huh?”

He presses a kiss to your clothed pussy, before you hear a tearing sound. You look down to see Steve had ripped your underwear completely off.

“Are you kidding me? You didn’t have to-”

“Aw is the little princess sad her panties were ripped,” he mocks, faking a frown. You let out a sigh and Steve pinches your thigh.

“Steve, you have to replace them.”

“Yeah, sure whatever. But it won’t matter in just a couple seconds will it? Cause my tongue will be on your cunt?”

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” you relent.

“That’s a good girl. Finally.”

He licks a stripe up your core, smiling devilishly at the squirm of your hips. His tongue laps at your cunt, not holding back from plunging you into pleasure.

Steve groans at how wet you are and the feeling of you soaking his mouth. He’s been thinking about stuffing his face into your pussy since he first fucked you and now that he’s doing it, he’s relentless.

He attempts to keep your hips from squirming at every lick, but eventually he gives up, just wanting to enjoy how much you like his tongue.

“This good, honey? Sure fucking looks like it is,” he growls, moving his fingers up to rub your clit in small circles as his tongue dives into your opening.

You feel like he’s trying to lick every inch of you. All your moans are strings of ‘yes’ and ‘fuck’ and little whimpers as the sensitivity grows.

“Fuck, show me this is what you needed, princess. Cum on my face, come on.”

Your body stills as your orgasm rips through you, your toes curling as you scream out his name. You don’t miss how Steve’s moaning against your cunt as well, lapping up as much of your slick as he can.

Once your high has calmed down, Steve’s getting off the bed to rid himself of his clothes. He sits back against the headboard and practically pulls your body into his lap.

You take the opportunity to take your bra off yourself, not wanting him to rip that too.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping your jaw so you could only look right at him. As he looks into your eyes, he could tell you’re already a bit dazed.

“Are you listening?”

You nod and squirm in his lap, his hard cock presses into your thigh and with each passing second, you feel more hungry for it.

“I want you to ride my cock. Do all the fucking work.”

He releases his hold on your jaw and leans back. You look at him and Steve points his head to his dick. Holding the base, you guide yourself slowly down his length.

Once you’re fully seated on him, you take a few breaths, already feeling the pleasure building from how much he fills you.

“You gonna do anything, princess? Or is it too difficult for you? You're the girl who's cockdrunk so you better show me how true that really is.”

With his words spurring a sense of motivation within you, you steady your hands on his chest, his hands loosely resting on your thighs.

Slowly, you begin to grind down on him, whimpering at how deep he is in you. A deep groan leaves Steve’s mouth and it turns you even more. As you get into the groove of feeling his cock again, you start to bounce on him.

“My girl, fucking herself on my cock. How cute, huh?”

You moan out a ‘yes’ and he chuckles, his gaze stuck on his cock as it disappears into you. Your hips are already stuttering and it’s difficult to keep a steady pace.

“Think you could go faster than that? Poor baby couldn’t slap right and now she can’t even fuck herself right?”

“Please, Steve, just help me,” you whimper at him, clutching tightly enough at his shoulders, you’re sure you’ll leave marks.

“You sure? That means you’re giving up, honey. Admitting you can’t do this-”

“I know, fuck it. I need you to fuck me, Stevie,” plead and he’s quick to push the two of you down the bed a little so he can lay down more.

He plants his feet on the bed and holds your hips. You’ll probably both have marks from each other’s fingers.

Steve gives one experimental thrust up into you and it sends you reeling against him, dropping your head to his neck. He chuckles breathlessly before fucking his cock up into you.

“So much better, right?” He asks, kissing right under your ear.

Compared to your sporadic bounces on his dick, Steve’s pounding into you. He thrusts hard and fast and his frequent chuckling at the noises you’re making gets you closer and closer to the edge.

One whimper makes him still though and he pulls your head up to look at him.

“Look at this,” Steve coos, using his thumb to wipe the stray tear that left your eye.

“Why’re you crying, honey?”

For a moment, you think he’s genuinely concerned but the way he’s trying to hide his smirk tells you otherwise.

“I’m sensitive,” you mumble and he hums.

“Your cunt’s sensitive?”

You nod at him and he begins to fuck you again, but his movements are slower, deeper.

“So what you’re telling me is...you came once from my tongue and your pussy’s already so sensitive that you’re crying? Think you could even handle cumming again?”

“Mhm, I could do it, Stevie, just so close.”

You knew you could, it’s just him that makes you extra riled up.

“Alright then, princess. You better fucking cum soon, then.”

Just as you were getting used to his slower thrusts, Steve picks up the pace again. He grabs one of your wrists and pushes it down to your cunt.

“Rub it,” he says, his lips pressing against your ear, then leaving a few sloppy kisses on your jaw. Your fingers work fast on your clit until you feel like you’re going to burst.

And you do, as Steve delivers one more thrust and you dissolve into pleasure, with him following and filling your cunt with his load. Steve pushes you off of him and laughs as he looks down at his bed.

“Made a mess, honey. You’re washing the sheets.”

He looks over to you, splayed out on his bed, breathless and still coming down from your orgasm. Steve moves back between your legs and you instinctively shut them from the oversensitivity.

“I’m just cleaning up,” he says.

Steve groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of your cunt and dips his head to lap it up into his mouth.

He moves back up to you and opens your mouth. You stick out your tongue and Steve spits his cum, mixed with yours as well, into your mouth. He closes your mouth for you and you swallow without him telling you to.

“There you go again, being a good girl.”

You watch as Steve picks up his clothes and puts them on.

“Am I really benched?”

You put on your best pout and Steve sighs.

“Yeah. Only stay out for one mission, then you can come back. That sound good, honey?”

You nod at him and he kisses you, his lips lingering against your own for a couple of moments before he’s pulling away.

“You wash the sheets or buy me new ones and I’ll buy you whatever pair of slutty panties you want.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fics #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction

390 notes · View notes

shingia · 4 years

Note

Could I request Kuroo, Bokuto, Tsukishima, Sakusa, Miya twins, and Tendou with a reader who used to self harm but was sober for a while, only to relapse after they left bc of a huge argument then please and thanks? Sorry if that’s really intense tho. And thank u for being so nice🙂💞

[𝐓𝐖] 𝐒/𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅-𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌

ok i reaaally hope this is what you expected. i didn’t know what kind of ending you wanted but i decided that you, my friend, needed comfort, so i gave you comfort because you deserve it ❤️️

i hope reading this will make you feel better! kisses on your nose ❤️️

type : (strong) angst | word count : 4.4K

warnings : mentions of self-harm, depiction of depressive behavior (plz do not read if any of these might trigger something, i want you all to be safe <3)

⇀ 𝐤𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨

« fuck you, kuroo. fuck. you. ». those were the last words you had told him. they had hurt, but they were nothing compared to the last words he had told you, the words that kept playing over and over in your head as you slowly felt yourself drift to your old habits again : « i’m done with you ».

was it your fault ? did you push him over the edge ? you had many questions to ask kuroo, but he wasn’t there to answer anymore. so these thoughts were left spiraling in your head as you started to lose balance between love and pain. because his love used to be the cure to your pain. so now what ? what were you supposed to do other than going back to your old habits ? you couldn’t think of any answer.

on monday morning, you woke up thirty minutes earlier because, first of all, you needed some time for the swelling of your eyes to go down, and second of all, you needed to mentally prepare yourself to see kuroo again. it had been two days since your fight, and he had not manifested himself once. it seemed to be well and truly over ; and that thought had been the main cause of the collapsing of your mental strength over the last two days.

during your first period, although you were avoiding his gaze, kuroo couldn’t help but cast glances in your direction. because he knew you better than anyone, and he could only imagine how hurt you were.

but he really started to get suspicious when he noticed you were not raising your hand to correct today’s homework. he had helped you with that last week, and you had told him that you felt confident enough to propose your correction to the class ; which rarely happened. so why weren’t you raising your hand ?

he had a bad feeling about the answer… he didn’t care about giving you quick glances anymore, he just stared at your arms until one of your movements would make your sleeve reveal just a few inches of your skin.

and he was horrified to have his fears confirmed. the cuts that he had so often kissed while holding you in his arms were back. and he knew it was all because of him. and although his first thought was that it was not his job to heal them anymore, he couldn’t bring himself to act unbothered.

he had loved you for long enough to know that you needed him right now. or maybe he still loved you ? it was not clear, but it didn’t matter right now. what mattered was that he needed you to listen to what he wanted to say, even if that was the last thing you accepted to hear from him.

« y/n, we need to talk » he told you once you got out of the classroom. you looked up at him ; his face was unusually austere. he carefully grabbed your shoulder and took you away from everyone else.

« i can’t… i couldn’t walk out of there pretending like i didn’t see what your arms looked like » he started. « now listen, i know i fucked up, but i still care. and you still matter. whatever our relationship is doesn’t define you and most importantly, these don’t define you » he pointed at your wrists, his brows furrowed with concern. « so please, i’m begging you, keep in mind that i’m always here if you need to talk. always. and if you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine, but in that case, please find someone else. for the sake of everything we've been through together, don't let everything you’ve accomplished go to waste » and he wrapped his arms around you in the strongest hug he had ever given.

⇀ 𝐛𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨

it had already been a week. and bokuto had absolutely no idea what to do. call you ? text you ? probably not. what would he even say ? « hi, sorry for slamming the door in your face after screaming at you for fifteen minutes. am i still your boyfriend ? » awful idea.

and while bokuto was pondering every option he had left to get in touch with you, you were left in the darkest place of your mind. and you hadn’t felt like that in a few months. because bokuto used to always be there, his number on speed dial whenever you feared you would relapse. and thanks to his unwavering support, you hadn’t. but was there anything in this world that was truly unwavering ? you really started to doubt it. and now that bokuto had left you, what could carry the pain away ? whatever the answer was, you were in no condition to think rationally about it.

you remembered how he used to celebrate every improvement in your mental health, how strong of a cornerstone he had been for you. and just the fact of not knowing where you guys were at after your fight was enough to make you feel like you were drowning again.

you were overflowing with emotions that you thought you couldn’t control, and apart from holding on tight to bokuto’s chest, you only knew one way to feel better.

you loved him, you really did. but after a week without hearing from him, you started to think that maybe his feelings were not as real as he pretended they were. and how could you not blame him for that ? for letting you down so fast ?

curled up in your bed, tears were streaming down your face ; because you felt weaker than you had promised yourself to be. you were exhausted, in every sense of the word, yet there was still a tiny bit of strength left in your body that made you grab your phone and open your conversation with bokuto. the last message was a bitter pill to swallow : « no problem babe, i’m always here for you ». it was just a week ago but it felt like an eternity had passed. your fingers started slowly typing on the screen and immediately hit sent, knowing that you would second guess your message if you re-read it. « can we talk? », just three words, it was the maximum you could get off of your chest right now.

but bokuto did not answer. for the simple reason that he was too busy catching his breath in front of your door. he frantically knocked, not stopping until you opened it.

« oh my god, are you okay ?! » he exclaimed, patting your entire body like he wanted to make sure you were well and truly there. and once he had made sure of that, he pulled you against his chest like he wasn’t planning on letting you go ever again. « did- did you… » he ventured to ask, not wanting to finish his sentence precisely because he was afraid of your answer. but when he heard you let out a muffled sob against his chest, his fears instantly got replaced by guilt. more than he had ever felt. « you’re alright, i got you. i got you now… » he murmured, his hands stroking your back tenderly. « we’ll get through this together, ok ? we’ll show the world how strong you are. because i know you are. »

⇀ 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚

yes, sakusa had run away. and he was glad he had. because he knew how hurtful he could be with his words, and he had enough respect not to inflict that to you. but as he made his way back home, doubt started installing in his head. what if he shouldn’t have left you after your fight ? he immediately shook the thought away. no, you were good now. you were better. nothing like who you were when he met you.

and sakusa could be very convincing when he needed to, including with himself. that’s why he didn’t get in touch with you for the next three days, because he thought you just needed some time for yourself.

but when he received a worried text from komori when he got out of the gym after practice, he changed his mind within seconds. « i just saw y/n, something felt off. maybe you should check on them ? ».

sakusa felt a wave of guilt descend upon of him. of course he should. it was his fucking job to offer you his help, even when he thought you didn’t need it. and especially when he knew what you had already been through. he cursed himself all the way to your house, where he could only imagine how lonely you felt. not wanting to waste any more time, he pulled out his phone to call you. and heaved a relieved sigh at the sound of your voice : « hey, are you ok ? like, right now are you doing ok ? » he asked hastily.

you sat on your bed and rubbed your strained eyes, fiddling with the cloth of your t-shirt. « i- yeah, i’m good… » you lied. « i’m at your door, open up please, i gotta see you » he said before hanging up.

you knew sakusa was not going to take no for an answer. so, after wiping your tears and putting on a long-sleeved hoodie and sweatpants, you went to open the door.

« hi… » you uttered quietly. sakusa didn’t dare to move. he had been so determined to get to your house, but now that you were standing in front of him, he wasn’t so sure of what he was supposed to do.

you decided to be the first to break the silence, « i’m okay. and i’m sorr… » « sorry. about everything. » he pre-empted you. seeing you like this made him fear the worst. so he gently grabbed your wrists like he wanted to hold your hands, when in reality he just wanted to confirm his thoughts. and when he saw you stiffen at his touch, he knew he had guessed right. « come here » he whispered before going in for a hug. but you pulled away at the last second. « can we… go to my room ? i- i feel better there » you asked timidly.

he didn’t even answer and simply wrapped his arm around your shoulder before taking you to your bedroom where you immediately curled up on your bed. you didn’t want sakusa to see you like this, but you were in no position to fight back anymore. quietly, he laid beside you and pulled you in a warm embrace, just tight enough to let you know that he got you now.

when he noticed you were trying to find something to say, to explain yourself, he shushed you with a kiss on your shoulder. « you don’t have to speak if you don’t want to. but i want you to listen to me very carefully : don’t ever think that you’re back to square one now. you’ve dealt with this before, you’ve grown and you can do it again as long as you promise yourself to get back up. and i won’t leave your side. you deserve so much more than what you give yourself, and i’m here to remind you »

⇀ 𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚

tsukishima’s pride was important to him, everyone knew it. the only thing he valued as much as his pride was probably you. but during your arguments, the scale always tipped in his pride’s favor, you simply could not compete.

but surprisingly enough, it was you who had told him to go away after getting in the most heated argument you had ever had. and he didn’t have to be told twice : you had shattered his beloved pride, and he was not going to stay here begging for your mercy.

he still loved you, but he also had no problem ignoring you at school. yet for some reason, this argument didn’t sit well with him. well, no arguments ever sat well with him, but today felt different.

ignoring you was one of the most hurtful things tsukishima could ever do to you. he had helped you through so much, and suddenly becoming a stranger to him was slowly bringing you back down.

« it’s just one time, i won’t relapse » you thought the first time you tried to cope with the pain the way you used to. but you feared it wouldn’t be just one time. you were diving into what you had said goodbye to ; but now that tsukishima was ignoring you, there was no one to stop you from falling, right ?

well, that would have been true if he hadn’t kept a discreet but attentive eye on you. which is why he knew very well that you had gone back to your old habits. and he needed to do something about it.

but he wasn’t good with words, and he feared that actions would not be enough this time. he needed something more permanent, something that you could keep with you all the time. so he decided to do something he had never done before, and gave it to you as soon as it was done…

receiving a letter from tsukishima was definitely not something you expected. but what was written in it was even less expected.

« i’m not the best at this kind of stuff, but… i really need you to stop being so hard on yourself. i know it’s not something i usually say, but i fell in love with you because i learned to love your imperfections. and you have to start doing the same about yourself. please. and if you need to be held, to be listened to, i’ll be there. but i wanted to write something because i want you to be able to read this as much as you need, as much as you want. i want you to get better, but even more than that, i want you to want to get better. you can do it, i believe in you more than you can think. please come to me if you need it. i love you ».

the tears that streamed down your face had a salty taste, but for the first time in a long time, they tasted like hope as well. and the next time you came face to face with yourself and your thoughts, your eyes found find their way back to the letter, and you knew that there were people that still believed in you, counted on you, loved you. tsukki was just the first one of a long list. (<3)

⇀ 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

he had been there through everything. more than you would have imagined. which is probably why you felt desperately empty ever since he got so angry at you that he left without looking back. but at the time, it simply had not crossed his mind that you would suffer so deeply from his words.

but you did. a lot. and that was the reason you found yourself crying on your bedroom floor, not even able to be mad at anyone but yourself.

still oblivious to the true damage, atsumu thought he could get back to you by pretending like nothing had happened. he often did that because, to him, what was in the past belonged in the past. except that today, and in your situation, it could not work.

« wanna grab something to eat ? » was the first text he sent you. and you didn’t feel like answering, so you didn’t. « are you still mad ? i’m not <3 » was the second one. but you still didn’t feel like answering. maybe it was your fault ? maybe you were overreacting while you were just supposed to play it cool like he did ? but you would have played it cool if you knew how to.

when atsumu decided to go to your house, it was initially to apologize in person. he had not planned on seeing you looking the way you did, which was a heart-wrenching reminder of the dark period of time you had gotten through together. but here he was, standing in front of you, feeling more helpless than ever. he knew too well the look into your eyes, one that he hadn’t seen in a long time.

he dropped the pack of snacks he was holding in his hands before cupping your cheeks. « oh no, no, no. i fucked up, didn’t i ? i am… so so so sorry. c-can you forgive me ? » he stammered, absolute panic in his eyes as he took you in his arms. why would i have to forgive you ? you thought. i’m the only one to blame.

but atsumu seemed to also hear the things you didn’t say, and he refused to let you feel guilty for anything. ever so gently, he took your hands in his before placing the softest kisses on your wrists that were still covered by the sleeves of your hoodie. « i probably won’t ever forgive myself for leaving you alone. but promise me you’ll always come to me if you need help, or any kind of support, hugs, kisses… you name it. i’ll be your coping mechanism, and i’ll be the best you’ve ever had »

and he kept holding you for a long time, at least until he felt your breath become steady again. and if you thought atsumu was doting before, prepare yourself to be even more amazed now.

⇀ 𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐮

fighting with osamu was not frequent, fortunately. but when fights occured, it was bad. really bad. he tended to think that you could endure as much as atsumu when it came to harsh words ; but you couldn’t.

kind of like his brother, samu had a tendency to leave the past behind and pretend like nothing happened when he got in touch with you after a fight. and that’s what he did a week ago, after one of the biggest arguments that you had ever had.

too happy that he seemed to still want to be your boyfriend, you didn’t have the courage to tell him how you had gone back to your old habits during the time you were on bad terms. but as they said, old habits died hard, and your destructive thoughts were still very present even when things seemed to have gotten back to normal.

yet samu was not blind, and he noticed that you were acting a bit more distant since last week, since your fight. but he still thought that your problems could be solved by just keeping on pretending like everything was ok. and eventually, things would turn out ok by themselves, right ?

you were laying on his bed, turned on your side as you scrolled on your phone. usually you would have had an arm swung around him, but you didn’t want to take any risk, so you kept your distances.

« hey, come closer baby. we’ve barely cuddled today » he told you before lazily wrapping his arm around your waist.

feeling nervous, you swallowed the lump in your throat before putting your phone on the nightstand. « i’m going to sleep, samu », you said, stretching your arm to turn off the light.

but he was quicker than you and gently grabbed your arm, careful not to apply any pressure on it. his eyes widened, he had barely seen your wrist but it had been enough to notice that the scars were recent. he put two and two together and looked at you dead in the eyes ; you looked ashamed, and it broke his heart. « when did y- was it because of me ? » he asked, his voice faintly shaking. you pulled away from his hand and held your arm against you, sinking in the pillow. « no, of course not. it’s nothing » you breathed out, looking away to avoid his gaze. but he was quick to make you face him again, with a slight pressure of his fingertips on your red cheeks. « there’s only one thing that i hate more than seeing you in pain. it’s knowing that i caused this pain. let me help you, y/n. please. you deserve to feel better. i’m sorry i didn’t give you as much love as you gave me. and i’m sorry for behaving like an asshole when you needed me. just… fuck, i just love you ».

tears started prickling the corner of your eyes, but he saw you trying to hold them back. with the most gentle look in his eyes, he proposed to turn off the light if it made you feel better. and you nodded ; you knew that you’d eventually had to have a face-to-face conversation with him. it was the only way to get better. but right now you just wanted to be held without thinking about what he’d see. or wouldn’t see.

so he turned off the light and let yourself get comfortable in bed before wrapping you in his embrace once again. his soft breath against your neck was obviously not enough to make all your pain magically go away, but it let you know that he had your back. and it was all that mattered.

⇀ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮

« i don’t want to do this anymore, y/n ! » tendou had yelled, making this sentence the peak of your argument. six words, and they were on replay in your minds since four days. you couldn’t believe that almost two years of relationship had ended so abruptly. but you had to face the truth : tendou had enough of you. and obviously you linked that to the turbulent start of your relationship. you knew it hadn’t been easy for him to deal with your self harm when you had just started dating. yet he had managed to make you feel so much better that you had been sober for about a year, all thanks to him. but maybe you hadn’t been grateful enough ? maybe that was why he had decided to end things now ?

the only thing you knew for sure was that he was gone, and you felt like you had lost your anchor.

you had spent the weekend in your dorm, and it had been a painful weekend. so painful that you did not get out of bed on monday morning ; it was just too much to handle. deep down you knew that you were not handling your problems the right way… and escaping reality was not viable.

but little did you know that tendou wanted nothing more than to see you again in the hallways and finally have a heart-to-heart conversation with you. and when he didn’t see you in class, he started to freak out. he knew how it was to feel alone and rejected ; and he started to fear that he had caused you to feel exactly that. so he did not follow his friends to the cafeteria at lunch and headed to your dorm instead, hoping that you’d open the door.

and you did. thank god you did. but panic started bubbling in his chest when his eyes laid on your face.

« alright, come here » he told you with a forced smile before pulling you in his embrace. truthfully, he didn’t feel like smiling, but he knew that the last thing you needed was to think you made him feel bad. when he was with you, his main goal was to cheer you up, he’d deal with himself later. « angel… did you do it again ? » he asked, his tone being the furthest thing from judgmental. you muttered a quiet apology, your face buried in his white uniform jacket. but something lingered on your mind. angel ? it sounded right, but you knew it wasn’t. not anymore. « don’t apologize ! the only person you owe an apology to is yourself » he whispered against your ear. slowly, he put his hands on your waist before bringing you to your bed where he sat right next to you, still refusing to take his hands off of your body.

« tendou, you don’t have to do this… » you muttered, knowing that you weren’t supposed to be this close anymore. « i’m your ex, you don’t owe me anything ».

he immediately looked down to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised in confusion. « your ex ? wh- you think i broke up with you ? y/n, when i said that i didn’t want to do this anymore, i was talking about fighting with you ! i’m sorry, i should have texted you these last few days, but i thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me »

a tear rolled down your cheek. tendou’s words sounded like heaven right now. maybe you weren’t alone after all ?

« now, do you need me to get you something ? band-aids ? anything ? » he asked, caressing your hair with his right hand. you nodded your head no and kept your head buried in his neck, like you were waiting for his scent to go to your head. « i know you’ve been through a lot, and i’m proud of you no matter what. but, you know… even though i have enough love for the both of us, i’d really want you to have enough love for yourself » he said and placed a kiss on top of your head, waiting for you to say something. but he sensed that you were not ready yet. and he was ok with that, the last thing he wanted to do was to pressure you. it was going to be a long path, but you had already done it, and you were going to do it again. and he’d be there the whole time.

ok so if you’ve read until there it probably means that you needed comfort (i hope i have given you enough) : so if you are in this situation yourself, PLEASE don’t be afraid to ask for help, you can and you will get better. i’m rooting for you like saeko roots for karasuno ❤️️

@toworuu (didn’t forget about you ^^)

#haikyuu #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq comfort #haikyuu comfort #bokuto x trader #kuroo x trader #tsukishima x reader #sakusa x reader #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader #tendou x reader

1K notes · View notes

technowoah · 3 years

Note

since I'm a gremlin I can ask for a c!Schlatt angst fighting with reader while he's drunk and the reader is just fed up with dealing with him and goes "IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" and just walks away and he realizes the shit he's done?

(the same anon who wasn't prepared to be heartbroken-)

Heartless

Somehow you find your way back to Schlatt again and it never goes as well as you think.

- c!schlatt x reader

- angst

- anon!requested

- part 1 to this story

⚠︎: swearing, angst, alcoholism, mentions of dying, c!quackity makes a appearance, hopefully this is sad enough yall-

An// i decided to make this a part 2 to Have a Heart! So I hope you enjoy love!

The night is still cold and dark as you begrudgingly walk back to one of the buildings that was put up to replace whatever L'Manburg was there before.

After Dream's word you had still contemplated going back to Schlatt. He doesn't deserve what you do, but you still end up walking along the Prime Path back to the drunken man. You had no end goal and that was a problem. You probably were going to be embarrassed that you came back to him. You couldn't let Schlatt die, from either the hands of someone else or let him die from himself.

You eventually found yourself in front of the metal doors that led into endless hallways of offices nobody occupied. The offices that had wine and cigarettes for Schlatt to smoke just in case he decided to have a meeting in a room that isn't the official meeting room.

Walking down the hallways you saw that most of the doors to each office were open and most of the alcohol and cigarettes were taken from each room. You peaked inside every room to see if Schlatt was in there, but something in you told you not to because you weren't prepared. What were you going to say? Stop drinking? Because you're sure he'll know he's not going to stop. You want to try to save him.

You slowly opened a door to reveal an office that looked an absolute mess. The small refrigerator was knocked over and all of the wine off the shelf was either shattered on the floor or gone. There were cigarette butts on the ground and lit a cigar, there were also papers and folders all across the room.

You whispered as you walked around the lit room "Schlatt must've been in here."

"Sure as hell he was!"

You spun around to see Quackity looking disheveled as ever. He had a bottle of liquor in his hand, his beanie threatened to fall off of his head and his suit now only a white button up with his dress pants still on.

"I've been running around this goddamn place trying to keep that ram man at peace! He's gonna drink himself to death." Quackity huffed while looking around the hallway.

"I know."

"That's why you're here huh?"

You sighed at the realization. "Yes it is. I don't want him to drink himself to death. Death isn't what I want."

"Well, it's too late for that." Quackity faced away from you not wanting to look you in the eyes.

You stayed silent until Quackity spoke up again.

"You want me to take you to him? Wanna see him one last time before he dies-"

"Don't say that!" You rolled your eyes

"Are you fucking kidding me? It's inevitable Y/N! His body is now 70 percent alcohol and his lungs are filled with smoke!" Quackity laughed in disbelief. "I don't want him to die! But its fucking inevitable. Either from someone else or-"

"Himself." You finished his sentence.

"Exactly!" He opened his mouth to speak again but apparently decided against it.

Quackity began to lead you out of the office and down the long hallway you two walked slowly not even knowing where Schlatt was in the whole building. You and Quackity made small talk.

"I hate this. I had to find this liquor and deliver it to him and now I can't find him."

"I came here to try and save him from himself and you're here feeding the problem."

"What else do you want me to do?" He grunted.

"Stop him!"

"If I stop him he's gonna be even worse so-!" Quackity threw up his hands in frustration as you two kept walking.

"I actually have something to tell you." Quackity spoke up after the silence.

"Quackity! Ah there you are!" Schlatt came around the corner behind you both and you turned around to meet the man you both have been looking for stumbling down the hallway.

"Ah you bitch! I thought I told you to leave!"

"Here we go." You rolled your eyes.

"Hey Schlatt! Here's the Liquor you wanted!" Quackity tried to liven up the situation by reaching the bottle out to Schlatt.

"He doesn't need it."

"Yeah I do, who are you to tell me what to do!" Schlatt yelled, not even taking the drink out of Quackity's hand.

"Schlatt just calm down-"

"No! They made a mistake and they cant even do what I fucking say! They'll keep coming back to me, against my wishes!" Schlatt interrupted Quackity while flailing his arms around.

You stood still not wanting to hear him anymore. Ever since he won the presidential debate the first couple of months he's been sober with only a few drinks here and there. Now he's a full on alcoholic, only damaging himself and his presidency. It's a sad sight to see and you don't want to see it, so you can either run away and know it's still there or fix it and never see it again.

"Schlatt I want to help." You hesitated before stepping forward.

"Same here Schlatt." Quackity agreed with you.

"You, you! Aren't any help!" He pointed directly at you while trying to keep himself upright.

"How aren't I any help!?" You yelled back. "I've done everything for you and now you're digging yourself a grave Schlatt!"

"You think you're the best thing ever huh?! Im fucking fine! I can stand on my own two fucking feet!"

Schlatt wasn't standing up straight, he was stumbling either backwards or forward. His body threatened to fall onto the marble floor and he couldn't even stand up straight. His speech was slurring together as well you could barely understand him.

You finally responded to Schlatt. "Schlatt you're stumbling around like- like I don't even know what! I can't understand you and you just need to stop!"

"You're so useless! Not useful to me or my presidency! I can stand up straight and I'm completely fine shut the fuck up!" He yelled while leaning to the side.

"I'd rather die alone! Without you or Quackity." Schlatt yelled again

"That's what you're going to do anyways." Quackity whispered under his breath.

Schlatt kept babbling nonsense as his back slid down one of the walls as he sat on the floor. Head pulled to the side. It was a sad sight to see, you hated to see this man drink himself to death and apparently Quackity, who was looking at the ram man the same way, standing silently next to you.

"Schlatt this-"

"I dont fucking care what you think! You're the worst person I've ever met! You both made my life hell and that's why Im fucking drinking my life away so I wont see any of you're fucking faces!" Schlatt tried to stand up but failed in doing so.

He continued talking. "I am the best thing that happened to this country! I saved both of you from a tyrant! And you thank me by driving me into this state!"

You felt your eyes threatening to spill tears the second time today.

"Schlatt that isn't me that's doing this shit!"

"How the fuck would you know?!"

"I can't. But Ive done every fucking thing for you! You cannot say I haven't!" You yelled back as he rolled his eyes with a rebuttal already on the tip of his tongue.

"Sure as hell I can! I have fucking proof-!"

"What proof?!" You interrupted his babbling even though he kept going.

"I- I!" he stammered not having a rebuttal this time.

"You're incapable of doing anything Schlatt let someone help you for fucks sake-"

"I'd rather die alone than sit here and be lectured by the likes of you!" Schlatt yelled.

"You are going to die alone, old man!" Quackity spoke up. "That's what they're trying to tell you!"

"You shouldn't be giving me a lecture! Im the mother fucking president! I should be talking, but apparently its not fucking work-"

"IF YOU LIKE SO MUCH TALKING YOU DON'T NEED ME I'M LEAVING!" You interrupted him and stomped down the hallway for the second time today.

As you walked down the hallway you heard a faint "wait" from Schlatt on the floor. You stopped and looked back to see Schlatt looking at you with some sort of realization in his eyes. Quackity was standing over him shaking his head.

"You know what? I don't even know why I helped you. Probably for power, but I don't need you for that." Quackity walked away towards your way. "Go ahead and die alone like you said old man."

Quackity caught your gaze and he smiled and shook his head again. He finally reached where you were standing and started talking to you.

"Maybe this isn't a good time, maybe it is. But I am joining Pogtopia. Wilbur said he needs a lot of people for this to work so consider this an invitation." He gave you a thin lipped smile and walked past you giving you a good look at Schlatt, laying fully on the ground.

"Y/N wait, just hold on for a second." Schlatt said while on his side, not even bothering to look at you.

You didn't say anything and followed Quackity's path, down the hallway and out of the door. Behind you, you could only hear the distant groans and pleas of the drunken man behind you. You tried your best to help and that's all you could do. But you couldn't watch that man die.

Taglist: MCYT Imagines: @annshit @bobaducky @malfoysslutt @alec-lost-bee @egorldevi

269 notes · View notes