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imogenkol · 1 year ago

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— WIP PRETEND IT’S WEDNESDAY

tagged by mine lovelies @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano @adelaidedrubman @simonxriley

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @florbelles @marivenah @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @v0idbuggy @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree

Slowly chipping away at this whumptober thing I’m working on. Who knows if it’ll actually be ready for October, but hey! It’s angsty af and I’m having some fun with the pain. Here’s a snippet that could be considered a crossover, but these two characters share something in common

Bix never would have imagined herself at a dusty saloon in the Outer Rim with such dire circumstances hanging over her head. Loud music reverberated through the floor and into the soles of her boots. Its low, lively beat reminded her of Cavo’s back home and she wished she could go to the bar and simply drown her worries in a few strong drinks. But that empty radio signal echoed in her mind, pounding inside her skull with more vibrato than the speakers, so she pushed the nostalgia and longing aside.

The mechanic scanned the crowd of colorful travelers and soon realized she had practically nothing to go on when it came to finding the Jedi Imogen mentioned only a few brief times. The former Inquisitor hadn’t really bothered to describe him outside of his so-called meager abilities. Bix only came here because of the subtle fondness she picked up on in Imogen’s voice during her recollection. Cal was Bix’s only chance, of that, she was certain.

Deciding on a more direct approach, she went to the bar and waved down the bartender droid. It smoothly zoomed over to her end and animated excitedly.

“Welcome to Pyloon’s Saloon! The name’s M-6NK, but my friend’s call me Monk,” the droid introduced in a peppy tone. His optic winked — or, rather, blinked since there was only one — and the tank of alcohol behind his head sloshed as he whirled his mechanical arms with a flourish. “What can I do ya for?”

“I’m looking for someone.” Bix did a quick check around the saloon for eavesdroppers before she leaned in with a hushed tone. “I think he’s a Jedi?”

“Haven’t seen any Jedi ‘round here in a couple centuries or so,” Monk said, his extra dispenser arms filling up a couple of glasses.

The possibility that she may have come all this way for nothing and wasted precious time doing it felt like a heavy blow to the chest. Bix would not give up so easily, though. Imogen never gave up on her. “Look, it’s really important. His name is Cal.”

“Sorry, doesn't ring a bell!” Something in the droid’s voice sounded a little too eager to dismiss her questions. “I can whip you up something to drink, though! And we have a full menu!”

Bix shook her head, getting increasingly desperate. “I’m not trying to cause trouble, I just need his help. Badly.”

“If you don’t want to drink and you don’t want to eat, I’m afraid there’s not much else I can do,” the droid said with a shrug.

“That’s fine, I’ll… ask around, I guess,” Bix replied dejectedly. Her fist tapped the surface of the bar as she pushed away from it with a frustrated sigh and faced the other patrons. There had to be dozens. If she had to bet, none of them had loose lips.

Back on Ferrix, Bix learned how to make hard sales with all kinds of business people and travelers. She knew what to say and how to put her foot down. Here… Well, the hardened explorers of the Outer Rim barely paid her a second glance once she started to prod them for information on a Jedi of all things. The mechanic might attract the wrong kind of attention if she persisted, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. She might as well be chasing a fairytale.

Bix eventually found herself back at the bar, taking a generous swig of something bitter and strong. She let the liquid burn on her tongue before it scorched its way down her throat and settled in her stomach with a heavy warmth. It started to look like she would have to infiltrate the Empire herself. Whatever it took, she decided.

“Why are you looking for a Jedi?” a male voice asked.

Bix turned to see a man with reddish-brown hair and a close cropped beard sat in the stool right beside her. He studied her closely, but his demeanor was calm and non-threatening. She threw up her hand. “I don’t know. It feels like a fool’s errand, but I don’t have a lot of options.”

He shrugged. “Who knows? I might be able to point you in the right direction.”

The mechanic carefully regarded the stranger who appeared to be a lot more forthcoming than any of the others. A small spark of hope ignited in her chest. “Do you know the Jedi?”

“I’d like to know who’s asking, first.”

“Honestly, if I tell you, he might want absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Try me,” the stranger urged with a friendly grin.

“He knows my girlfriend. Imogen.” At the sound of her name, the man’s body suddenly tensed and his eyes widened just a fraction. Bix knew the name drop might cause issues given Imogen’s past, but she continued to make her case and silently prayed that hadn’t ruined her chances. “They have a… history. I need his help to find her.”

A flicker of recognition came across the stranger’s features as if he finally saw the woman in front of him. “You’re Bix.”

“I –” Bix stopped her sentence short and blinked in confusion as she struggled to put the pieces together. Then it clicked. She finally saw the man – the Jedi – too. “You’re Cal.”

He rose from his seat and motioned for her to follow. “We should talk in private.”

Bix hopped to her feet and noticed a small, two-legged explorer droid scurry from the surface of the bar up Cal’s arm to perch on his shoulder. It beeped low into his ear and Bix picked up on the concern the droid expressed about her presence in binary. Cal quietly assured the BD unit as he walked on.

“How did you know my name?” Bix asked while she tagged along.

“Imogen talked about you,” he said, glancing back at her. “She didn’t say much, but more than a few sentences and a name told me how much you really mean to her.”

Bix let out an amused breath, but her warm smile was genuine. “I could say the same about you.”

“I mean about as much to her as one of her bounties.”

“Well, you’re still alive and not imprisoned. Knowing her, that’s holding you in pretty high regard.”

“I guess,” he chuckled.

They walked through a door that led to the back of the bar. Bix smelled the line of cooked meals before she saw it. She didn’t realize how appetizing the food would be until they passed by the plates of steaming meats and vegetables. She’d barely eaten the entire journey to Koboh and pictured all the times Imogen had urged her to eat when she was too deep in her own head. As they descended a curved flight of stairs, Bix made a mental note to refuel after their conversation.

The music upstairs faded as Cal led her into a quaint basement room. The small space was impressively outfitted. She saw a comfortable bed, a workbench, even a terrarium. Bix wished her home back on Ferrix had been this cozy. She could have at least had a plant.

“So, what’s going on?” Cal asked, coming to a stop in the middle of the room.

“Imogen had some business on Coruscant. She went radio silent. It’s been too long, I –” Bix nearly choked on her next words. She cleared her throat and crossed her arms before she could voice her theory. Saying it out loud made the probable fear all the more horrifying. “I think the Empire might have her.”

Cal remained silent for a long time, his thoughts thoroughly shielded behind the unreadable expression on his face. He placed his hands on his hips and his gaze dropped with a long sigh. “I’m sorry. Really, I am,” he said sincerely as he looked back up at her. Remorse shone in his eyes. “But if they have her… she’s either dead or turned.”

“She isn’t dead,” Bix insisted confidently.

“You can’t know that for certain.”

“I do know,�� she snapped. “She told me I’d feel it if she was gone.”

He didn’t argue against that point despite how crazy it might have sounded to anyone else. Instead, he said something far more offensive. “Then she’s probably an Inquisitor again.”

The mechanic stared the Jedi down. Bix couldn’t blame him for this assumption after everything Imogen had done just to him alone, but she absolutely hated the lack of hesitation in his response. “She wouldn’t.”

“Do you know how most of the Inquisitors were made?” Cal asked patiently, his expression shifting from remorse to pity. “They tortured Jedi to corrupt them and turn them to the Dark Side. Imogen didn’t need that kind of convincing the first time around. How do you think the second will go?”

The revelation made Bix’s stomach flip and her hands shake. She crossed her arms tighter around herself to hide it. “She’s stronger than you give her credit for.”

“She’s strong in a very dangerous way.”

Bix stepped closer to him, her fear and desperation palpable enough for him to sense in the air around them. “I need to find her and I don’t know if I can do it without your help. Please. At least tell me where to start looking.”

“If they have her, then…. I know exactly where she is,” Cal admitted. He held up a hand as Bix brightened with conviction to keep her expectations in check. “It is the last place in the entire galaxy you want to be, Bix. I don’t think Imogen would want you to be in the same system, much less in the stronghold itself.”

“I want her back, Cal,” Bix said with fierce intensity while she still held his gaze. “Tell me.”

“The Fortress Inquisitorius on Nur,” he answered grimly as if that all but confirmed her death sentence.

#oc insp: imogen kol #ship insp: if i had a heart #brotp: a force to be reckoned with #i just needed a lil something to bring Imogen's relationships together #and also maybe just wanted these two to interact and bond over their problematic fav #yes he's gonna help but mostly because he does NOT want to deal with full blown dark side Imogen..... but also maybe he's worried about her

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hypmicdaydreams · 2 years ago

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hey hey~~ can i rq Samatoki or Jyuto for the kissing prompt? “In a bar” or “In a vehicle” and “confessing feelings”? Maybe drinking could be the way they bond with the person they’re interested in?? 👀 tysvmuchoooo!!!!

This definitely veered much more into only “confessing feelings” than kiss prompt territory,, TT so sorry about that! it completely left my mind while writing it, but hope that’s fine!! I went with Jyuto since I haven’t written for him in a while. Hope I wrote him well? He’s always a little difficult for me lmao. Anywayy, please enjoy! Ty for the request 💙

kissing prompts: in a bar for confessing feelings

-pairing: jyuto iruma x gn!reader

-genre: fluff

-word count: ~680

either you have a much lower alcohol tolerance than jyuto, or you’ve just had more drinks than him.

regardless, he finds it a bit amusing to see you all drunk now, sitting in the bar with fluttery eyes and trying to stay awake. he now had some ammunition to use against you, at the very least.

“don’t you think you’ve had one too many drinks, y/n?” jyuto chuckles. of all the times he’s gone out for a drink with you, he’s never quite seen you so drunk before — only tipsy. it was honestly amusing for him, seeing how you try your best to keep your head up and eyes open. it was cute, he muses.

“i’m…not drunk,” you murmur. it’s not very convincing, especially with the pauses between your words; jyuto knew a drunk person when he saw one. “i can drink some more-”

“i don’t think so.” jyuto slides your half full (though he’d say half empty) glass away from you, which warrants a pout of yours. he should be immune to it, but instead, jyuto finds himself laughing; he was possibly a little tipsy himself at this point. i mean, your pout was all too cute. “i’m only looking out for you.” perhaps a bit much. jyuto cared for you after all, though it was a different type of care than he felt for his teammates. this one was…stronger? maybe? he couldn’t quite explain it, though jyuto wasn’t stupid and knew what it meant.

“..too much,” you slur, becoming a little incoherent already. “but that’s what i like about you.” oh? well that piques his interest, though maybe it shouldn’t have. you were drunk after all, but well, jyuto was a bit of a bastard.

“oh?” he smirks. “you like me?” well, he liked you too; jyuto is only teasing. you two were friends after all, so of course he’d like and care for you, though it felt more than that at times. it’s not like he’s an idiot — jyuto knew he held feelings for you. but hearing it from you first and foremost was much too entertaining, especially since you were drunk and had no clue. he probably wouldn’t let you forget this the very next day.

“of course,” you furrow your brows and deepen your pout. “you’re cute, you care, and even if you’re corrupt, your heart is still in the right place…i think.” real funny; he rolls his eyes, though jyuto is smiling all the more. which officer in his place isn’t corrupt, i mean?

“but i like you,” you murmur again. your head begins to fall slightly, and your eyes droop. sleep was already starting to overtake you, head already resting on the bar table. the warmth from the alcohol was too comforting and lulling, and besides, you felt safe around jyuto. “i hope that someday,” your voice begins to dissipate, “you’ll see me as more than a friend..”

you’re fast asleep in moments, stirring slightly when jyuto pokes you to make sure that you were indeed knocked out. he sighs; it was going to be a headache to figure out how to get you home, though at least the two of you lived relatively close by. he was thankful for that.

you look so peaceful, gentle smile on your lips and snoring lightly — it’s adorable, he smiles. more than a friend? your words resonate within his mind. well, of course jyuto liked you more than a friend already; he just never confessed before, more so because he didn’t entirely see the point right now. why ruin a perfectly good friendship? it simply didn’t make any sense.

but now that you had pretty much confessed, well, jyuto had to take you out on a proper date, no? he’s already planning all the places and times out. also, he’d have to do a proper confession as well, especially since you may not remember tonight.

jyuto sneaks another glance at your sleeping form. cute, he smiles, all warm and tipsy as well. what was he going to do with you?

#asks #requests #fluff #gender neutral reader #hypmic #hypnosis mic #jyuto x reader #jyuto iruma #fics #i didn't know where to include the kiss so it was omitted..#i'm so sorry dear anon TT

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snezfics-n-shit · 2 years ago

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yhnrmt - 3 boyfriends 0 braincells

First I want to thank @fluziska for being my rubber duck and putting up with me, I couldn't have shaped the antics of these three without their help.

Lar.ry returns from touring overseas. Mil.es has too much pride and Pho.eni.x accidentally enables him. Gu.msh.oe is a real pal. This story of sorts went through so many rewrites I cannot stress this enough.

Larry had a habit of not telling his boyfriends when he’d be back in the country. He liked to surprise them as much as possible, even if it meant walking in on the two being intimate. He’s seen worse, he reasoned. Besides, what better time to surprise the couple than after a year in Europe? It’s not like Miles hadn’t done the exact same thing. Sure, that was prompted by a call Larry made, but other than that, it was the same.

Without thinking about how he would announce his return, Larry enthusiastically unlocked the front door and was greeted not by a human, but a large, very fluffy, white dog.

“Pess!” He cheered, happily accepting the dog’s wet kisses on his cheeks. What a lovebug she was!

“It’s a good thing you’re not a burglar, Larry.” Phoenix observed as he stepped into the living room to spot him. “I wish you would’ve told us you were coming back so soon. We haven’t had time to straighten up the house.”

“A little surprise never hurt anyone, has it? Besides, I’m perfectly capable of cleaning up if you need me to.” Larry stood up straight with a final good pet on the top of Pess’s head. “So,” he cleared his throat, “what have you guys been up to while I was gone? It’s actually been pretty lonely at Franzy and her wife’s place. Our schedules kept missing each other, we hardly had time to talk about another book deal. She agreed on it, by the way.”

“That’s great, Larry!” Phoenix smiled in pride before kissing Larry on the cheek. “Maya managed to get in another incident a few months ago, but as usual, I defended her and she’s off the hook. Here’s hoping she stays that way.”

“Heh, that’s Maya for- for yhh–!!” Larry was caught off guard by a powerful tickle in the back of his nose; Phoenix also seemed a bit unprepared for what was coming. “Hh’ggtish! Hn’KKSHiu!” Larry made a small gasp and turned away, keeping his head down. “Hhg’tisHHu!! Kk’tshiiu! K’kCHIUU!!”

“Wow, bless you. You’re not getting sick, are you?”

Larry didn’t even have to look at Phoenix to know he was turning red from watching the display.

“No, no.” Larry insisted. “I feel completely fine.” He sniffled. “I promise!”

“For heaven’s sake…” Another voice joined the conversation: Miles. “You didn’t use any of the hand sanitizer I packed in your bag. You’ve been signing books in libraries filled with preschoolers, and who knows what everyone’s touched before boarding your flights…”

“Edgey, calm down!” Larry set down his bag and opened it to dig up an empty hand sanitizer bottle. “See? I used the whole thing! Used up the last little bit as soon as I was dropped off in front of the house.”

“Hmm…” Miles tapped his elbow with his index finger, sighing through his nose as he evaluated the situation. “Nothing wrong with some extra precaution.” He held his hand out to Larry. “Come on, love. Let’s get some Vitamin C in you.”

“Like orange juice or is this an innuendo?” Larry smirked.

“Orange juice.” Miles corrected quickly. He was unaffected when Larry groaned in disappointment and simply led him to the dining room table so he could serve him a tall glass of juice.

Larry downed the juice quickly. If any cold was even thinking of settling in his system, he had surely just given it a run for its money. After all, last time he checked, Miles always bought the fancy vitamin-enriched orange juice, just like the kind Larry had seen in Franziska’s fridge.

“Done!” He beamed. “I feel better already! Picture of health!”

“Are you sure you’re alright? Cold or no cold, wouldn’t you rather get some rest after such an exhausting tour?” Miles asked. “We could draw you a hot bath, give you a massage…”

“I mean, if you want to skip to what I got you guys as souvenirs, that’s okay too!”

“You brought souvenirs? You know you didn’t have to do that.” Phoenix said that as if he wasn’t immediately curious about what Larry had gotten the married couple.

“Of course I brought souvenirs! You don’t just visit three countries in Europe without buying something to bring back home. I mean, who would do that?” Larry shot a teasing glance at Miles. “I wasn’t sure how long the trip back home was gonna be, and Franzy’s place was packed to the brim with kombucha and stuff from her last health kick, so no snacks this time. Sorry about that.”

Miles couldn’t help but sigh, making a mental note to ask Franziska just what purpose a fridge stuffed with kombucha would serve, besides to give him a headache when she inevitably urges him to try it too.

“Okay, guys, I think you’re going to love these!” Larry made his way back into the living room for his bags, and Pess seemed curious enough to follow him there. “Don’t worry, girl,” he chuckled as he pressed a fist under his nose, “I got something for you, too.” He dug out three boxes from one of his suitcases, all cutlery from the countries he visited. “Ta da!”

Phoenix and Miles admired the images on the boxes; Phoenix couldn’t understand a word any of them said, but he knew enough about Larry’s taste in cookware to get the idea that these had to be high quality.

“You bought three sets?” Miles’s eyes widened as he mentally calculated what must have been the cost. “I hope you were able to keep yourself fed.”

“I promise that was not a problem!” Larry assured him, sniffling. “Remember?” He sniffled again. “I was stayi’g with Fradzy!”

Phoenix’s expression fell from a fascinated one to one of concern.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?”

“Yeah! Just gotta grab a tissue.” Larry yanked one of the soft tissues from a cravat themed tissue box Phoenix had bought as a joke. He took his sweet time blowing his nose, leaving Phoenix and Miles wondering if he really needed to take that long or he just liked the brand. He finally successfully tossed the tissue into the nearest trash bin and continued on with the souvenir gifting.

“Larry, you sound awful–” Miles tried to add, but Larry had already shifted his focus elsewhere.

“Now, it’s Pess’s turn!” He grabbed a different bag and pulled out a large collection of premium dog treats; as he did so, he could hear Edgeworth muttering something about ‘spoiling her rotten,’ which Pess absolutely deserved to be! “I got to meet Shoe’s nutritionist and she set me up with all these!”

“Shoe?” Phoenix blinked. “The cat?”

“The cat has a nutritionist…” Miles processed the words slowly as they left his lips.

“Yeah, I mean, why not? Cats gotta eat well, too.” Larry shrugged with a grin before turning to the gift’s recipient. “So, what do you think, girl?”

Pess responded by nuzzling against Larry’s cheek and then promptly shoving her nose onto the treat bag in hopes of digging right into its contents.

“Looks like she likes it.” Miles observed, chuckling. “Unfortunately, it’s much too late for her to be eating more treats.”

Larry and Pess both looked at Miles’s face with nearly matching pouts.

“You want me to starve her?” Larry accused. “So mean, Edgey. I can’t believe– Hh! Kk'sshhnn!! Kk’tshu!” Larry prematurely ended his complaints with a small groan, scrubbing his nose with his hands. “Gghhh… it itches…” He mumbled to himself.

“Larry… Maybe you should get some sleep.” Phoenix suggested very delicately.

“You sure?” Larry sniffled. “I guess it is pretty late…” He conceded before yawning.

“We’ll see you in the morning.” Miles kissed the top of Larry’s head to send him on his way to the guest bedroom.

Phoenix and Miles watched quietly as Larry headed to get some sleep, and once the door had closed, the two looked at each other.

“You don’t think…” Phoenix started.

“Absolutely not!” Miles scoffed. He knew where Phoenix was going and he was not going to have any of it.

Miles and Phoenix weren’t aware of it, but Miles’s response managed to carry across the hallway, enough for Larry to hear bits and pieces of the conversation.

Eventually, the sounds of disagreements and Miles’s flair for the dramatic coming out in full force grabbed Larry’s attention enough for him to want to listen in. He peeked his head out the guest bedroom door. While it was easier to hear the conversation continuing in the living room, he couldn’t grasp the entire context of what his boyfriends were discussing.

“I have her papers kept in my office if you’re doubting me!” Miles huffed.

“I never doubted that for a second, just you’re forgetting one thing…” Phoenix’s voice got infuriatingly softer, saying something that made Miles gasp in offense.

“She is a lady, Phoenix!”

“I never doubted that either!”

Ladies? Papers? Were they so sick of Larry they were setting him up with a woman? At least Nicky might be vouching for him.

“If she is causing issues, it has to be something else.” Miles said adamantly.

“Like what?”

“Well, there are…” Miles’s list was hard to hear from afar, but Larry noticed it was rather long.

Phoenix lowered his head and sighed. Was this when he would finally talk some sense into Miles? When he’d say ‘Larry’s a great guy and we should keep him forever!’

“We could send him over to Gumshoe, maybe? See how he is there?”

What!?

So Larry was wrong. Nick was voting for sending him away to Gumshoe, now. Gumshoe seemed happily married to Maggey, though… Was this Nick’s way of saying ‘go wreck someone else’s marriage?’

“And then you’ll see he’ll be just fine, I’m sure of it!” Miles assured with a grin.

Larry didn’t think he was going to be just fine at all. Being sent away, after all he’s done. He wondered if tomorrow, this will all have blown over and his boyfriends will have forgotten this awful plan of theirs. That’s it, he was going to go to bed and in the morning, no one would mention sending him away to Gumshoe or anything!

Perfect.

. . .

“Good morning, love!” Miles greeted Larry from the kitchen, carrying a large plate of pancakes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, actually.”

It looked like Miles and Phoenix had a good night’s sleep as well, given neither of them looked like they were intending on sending Larry to go bother Gumshoe like he had feared.

“Are you feeling any better?” Phoenix asked, genuinely concerned and lacking that purr he had when asking such things out of pure lust.

“Yup!” Larry confirmed with a nod. “I guess I was just beat from all the travel yesterday.” He looked around. “Where’s Pess?”

“Out basking in the sun as usual.” Miles answered. “Best to not disturb her nap,” he advised. “Speaking of Pess, I wanted to get your opinion on something, Larry.”

“Well, my opinion is she’s a very good girl!” Larry beamed.

“No, no.” Miles looked at Phoenix for a quick second before returning his attention to Larry. “Her groomer recommended a spectacular new shampoo, and I’d like to know what you thought about it. You did see a lot of pet experts while you were abroad, did you not?”

“Oh, yeah! Cat experts, mostly, but I probably picked up some knowledge on grooming products for dogs, too, without knowing…”

“Perfect!”

Miles ran off to the special bathroom almost entirely dedicated to Pess; anyone else might have said that such a room would be excessive, but Miles would insist those people were completely wrong.

“What’s got him so happy?” Larry tilted his head.

“He’s just being… Miles again.” Phoenix sighed. “Just humor him.”

“I’ve never had any objections to that.” Larry shrugged. “Except maybe when he wanted me to bring that heavy Steel Samurai suit home and into the bedroom…”

Phoenix blinked in surprise. Miles never told him about that particular encounter; he couldn’t believe they had been married for years and Miles was still such a mystery sometimes.

“I found it!” Miles presented the pink shampoo bottle that looked better taken care of than most bottles he owned meant for human use. “What do you think, love?”

“Well, uh,” Larry sniffed the bottle, “there are definitely notes of… peanut butter?” He raised a brow. “You know, I was kind of expecting something a little fancier.”

Miles frowned; Larry took that to mean he might have been offended at the implication Pess wasn’t fancy.

“Dogs just like peanut butter.” Phoenix explained, hoping to draw attention away from the confusion and disappointment he could feel radiating from his husband. “I grew up with cats, so that fact was new to me, too, when Miles and I started living together.” He was only half lying, since he had seen plenty of dogs enjoy the creamy treat before even befriending Miles, but it made for a much less tense conversation while Miles collected himself.

“Well then,” Miles cleared his throat, “we were wondering if you could drop this off at the Gumshoe residence this morning while we ran some errands. The detective has been dying to try this on Missile.”

There it was, Larry being sent off to Gumshoe’s, but— for an errand? That wasn’t half as bad as he thought!

"I can absolutely do that!" Larry accepted the request with glee, puzzling his boyfriends with this reaction. "You have no idea how glad I am to hear you just wanted to share Pess's beauty routine."

Phoenix and Miles looked at each other, both shrugging. As long as Larry was willing, everything would go smoothly… or, well, about as smoothly as their plan could possibly go.

As soon as Larry was out the door, much sooner than his boyfriends predicted, the two lawyers began to discuss their intentions for this errand.

"Do you really think this was the best way we could've done this?" Phoenix asked.

"I'm not going to just let Pess's qualifications as a hypoallergenic dog be questioned. Larry will be fine with a common dog like Missile who lacks access to all the high end grooming products Pess does, and then we can narrow things down from there." Miles proudly insisted that was the only way this could possibly turn out. "Pess is a very special and clean young lady, you know!"

"Yeah, I know, babe, you told me that when you first got the idea last night. But what are you going to do if he isn't fine with Missile?"

"... That won't happen. I can assure you!"

…

It happened. It was evident the moment Miles opened the door to greet Detective Gumshoe, who was resting his hand on the shoulder of a very pink-faced (and wet) Larry.

"I don't think your boyfriend's feeling too good, pal." The detective observed softly.

“I’b fide.” Larry didn’t sound all too convincing there. “It’s dot a big deal.” He sniffled. “I just– H’kksshh!! H'hggshhi! Hhg’tisHHu!!”

“Bless you! You look awful.” Phoenix pulled Larry into a hug. “It’s our fault, putting you through this.”

“No, it’s mine.” Miles spoke up. “I was caught up in my pride, and because of that–”

“What are you talki’g about? I bade the choice to play with Bissile.” Larry shrugged, completely unaware of the bomb he had just dropped.

“You… You–!!” Miles stammered.

“I forgot to tell you guys, huh. Fradzy got pretty bad at be for that, too, actually… I guess I did’t wadt you guys to be weird about it, which you, uh, sorta did.”

“Miles was the most weird about it.” Phoenix added with a smirk.

“Well, isn’t this nice!” Gumshoe commented, seeming relieved to see the three come to as close to an understanding as they could get. “Are you gonna be okay now, pal?” He asked Larry.

“Yeah! I got the best boyfriehds id the world!”

“Awww,” Phoenix couldn’t help himself.

“And we have the best source of headaches in the world.” Miles kissed Larry on the cheek.

“Yup,” Larry beamed, “that would be— hey!!”

In all fairness, the three gave each other an equal share of headaches, and were sure to give each other plenty more.

#snez attorney #yhnrmt brainrot time #my writing #my fics

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lobster-tales · 2 years ago

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Beat the Daylight

Sequel to Face the Noise, an Arcane Rock Band AU

Rating: M

Chapter 10: The Studio

Summary: The bands make changes for next round | Viktor opens up

This work is available here on AO3. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fissurefolk should have been celebrating their victory, but Finn spent the next practice acting like they lost.

“That was sloppy,” he said with a scowl. “Sevika, you were off tempo on the third song. Clean it up.”

She scoffed. “I was only off because Jinx was off.”

“That was on purpose,” Jinx said, twirling her butterfly knife in her hands. “It’s a stylistic choice.”

Viktor added, “There’s actually a word for it: rubato. It means ‘stolen time’.”

“See?” Jinx pointed to him. “I’m a fucking virtuoso.”

Finn interrupted, “You’re a disaster, that’s what you are. You almost crashed into me four times during the set. If you’re going to dance, do it on your side of the stage.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “What’s up your ass, Finn? Did you miss the part where we won?”

“I told you, I have high standards.” He hoisted the guitar strap over his head. “Now get up.�� He nodded to Margot, who was working behind the glass of the control room. “Margot printed new chord sheets. We’re going through as many as possible today.”

Hours later, when practice ended, Jinx threw on a big coat and headed to the door, eager to jump in the car with Viktor and escape to her studio together. But a soft voice stopped her.

“Hey.” Margot was leaning against the door frame of the control room. “I feel like we haven’t really hung out in a while. How are you?”

She was so unassuming, but Jinx knew better than to let her guard down. “Good. You?”

“Good. Busy, but good.” Margot considered her. “Where you headed?”

“My studio.”

“Alone?”

Is that what this was about? Jinx picked her answer carefully. “I guess. I think Viktor needed a ride.”

“Right… I’ve noticed you guys ride together. A lot.”

“Yeah, well we both live at the fucking hotel.” Jinx didn’t mean to get so defensive. Her tone had bitten too hard, and Margot sensed that she was hiding something.

Margot was gentle, but firm. “Of course. But it seems like you never just drop him off. You both always get home… late.”

Ohhhhhh. “Ew, we’re not fucking, Margot,” Jinx gagged. “Gross.”

Relief flashed in Margot’s eyes, but she still held her ground. “But you are spending a lot of time together.”

It wasn’t a question, and even if it was, Jinx wouldn’t answer anyway.

Margot cleared her throat. “Look, I’m glad you have a new friend, Jinx, especially considering how busy the rest of us are. But you were the one who suspected Viktor the most, and with good reason. I mean, you were right: it’s too convenient to be a coincidence. That’s why we’re so surprised you’re spending that much time with him.”

We. So Silco did put her up to this. Jinx felt a knot in the pit of her stomach. She knew that Fishbones was in her studio for surveillance. She knew the glassy stuffed animal eyes had hidden cameras. Silco had been watching them, this entire time. But only in the studio: at least he hadn’t seen her sleep in Viktor’s room. Unless a member of his hotel staff saw her leave Viktor’s room hours later.

Paranoia set her hands to shaking, but she stuffed them into her coat pockets to hide it. She had to calm down. Silco hadn’t approached her yet, which meant that so far, she hadn’t done anything wrong. And if he did confront her…

“Well,” she shrugged. “You know what they say. Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.”

Margot wanted to say more, clearly. She was hard to read sometimes, always towing the line of diplomacy and deceit. But she said simply, “I just want to make sure you’re being careful.”

“Ha!” Good thing the studio was already empty. Lightning flickered along Jinx’s nervous system, eliciting a sudden rage. “That is so fucking rich, Margot.”

She was still, waiting for Jinx’s reaction. “What is?”

“You’re the one who brought me to all those night clubs. How many shots have we done together, Margot? How many lines? You sure didn’t give a shit about my safety when we’d go out partying, and now you want to act all high and mighty now that I’m doing at-home espionage?”

Her expression was… sad, but Jinx couldn’t tell if it was a performative sorrow or not. “I was always in control,” Margot murmured. “You were never in any danger.”

“And I’m not in danger now. I know what I’m doing. And you can stop pretending that you care.”

Margot closed her eyes, breathing deeply. If this was an act, she deserved an award. “I… I’m sorry, Jinx. I do trust you. I know you know what’s really at stake here, and you would never do anything to jeopardize what we stand for.”

An itch of guilt. Jinx was so wrapped up in the band, she kept forgetting about her inheritance, that this whole thing had a higher purpose. So much had changed so quickly. She hadn’t even considered what would happen after the contest. Would Viktor stick around, become one of Silco’s scientists? Would Lux return back home with her swoopy hair boyfriend?

It was too overwhelming to think about now. She had to focus on the present. Viktor was waiting for her in the car, she had a call scheduled with Lux later tonight. She could put off her destiny for another day.

“Good,” Jinx said. “I’ll see you later.”

When she turned away, Margot’s soft voice followed her. “And this might be hard to believe,” she whispered. “But I do care.”

Jinx didn’t respond, just let the studio door close behind her.

☆ ☆ ☆

The first few practices after Progress Day’s debut performance were rough. The tension between Vi and Ezreal hung heavy in the air, and the overall discouragement was affecting their sound quality.

After a few listless rehearsals, Ekko finally put his foot down. “Alright,” he said, addressing everyone. “That’s enough. Let’s get it out in the open. Ez, that was a shitty thing you did.”

Ezreal muttered, “I apologized already.”

Vi scoffed. “That was barely an apology.”

“Well it’s hard to be sincere when you’re attacking me.”

“Well maybe if you respected people’s boundaries, you wouldn’t get attacked.”

Ekko said, “Enough. Ez, apologize. For real this time.”

Ezreal shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny. A small nod from Jayce encouraged him, and he said, “Vi, I’m sorry for overstepping your boundaries. I won’t do that again.”

She wasn’t completely satisfied, but still said, “Thanks. Appreciate it.”

“Alright, that’s done,” said Ekko. “Next order of business. We tried once, we failed once. So the question is,” He swept his gaze over the room. “What are we going to do about it?”

A few feet shuffled. Lux finally said, “I liked their outfits. They looked more like… well, rockstars. Compared to us. No offense or anything.”

Ekko pointed to her appreciatively. “Yeah, good one. We need more of a look.”

“Agreed,” said Vi, and Jayce nodded.

“Eh, I don’t know,” Ezreal said. “I think our look is more wholesome. Makes us stand out from them.”

“Then what do you suggest we do differently?” Ekko asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Ezreal nodded towards Lux. “I think you should let Lux sing a few songs.”

She gasped as all eyes landed on her. “Wh-what?”

“Come on, babe,” Ezreal prompted. “You have an amazing voice.”

“But- but so does Ekko! And Vi…”

Jayce asked, “Do you want to sing, Lux?”

But Ezreal chimed in, “Of course she does, she’s amazing. You should hear her.”

Vi’s voice was patient. “He didn’t ask you.”

“It’s okay!” Lux said, trying to keep the peace. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind singing, if you’re both okay with that?”

“Sure,” Ekko said. “You mind if we hear a sample?”

The room went quiet. Lux asked permission from everyone’s faces, standing when she felt sure.

La la-la La la-la la-la

She cleared her throat. “S-sorry, I’m not totally warmed up yet.”

“That’s okay,” Jayce said with a grin. “Keep going.”

Lux took a deep breath, and sang,

Gales of song Guide me through the storm

She collected herself, slowly getting into the rhythm of the song.

On the wings of a small, simple melody Words take flight and soar They carry me, a world we'll see Looking for a farewell, I pull the threads A life without you I cannot accept I can't tell that lie, I can't let go

With each line, her confidence increased. Her voice rose and fell, a breathy soprano that could be surprisingly powerful. As the song crescendoed, so did Lux, her eyes closed as she breathed in the music, a smile playing on her lips.

I walk alone, there's more to life I have to know It's just me, lost so far away from home Alone I shut myself in Still the winds howl, they call and their voices lead me Gales of song, guide me through the storm

Her voice rose on the final notes, carrying them effortlessly.

Let the melody lift me hiiiiiiiiiigh, I'll be meeeee

They all just stared at her, mouths agape. Lux squirmed. “Um, was that okay?”

Vi breathed, “What the fuck, Lux.”

The boys made noises of approval. Jayce said, “You’ve been holding out on us, Crownguard.”

“Told ya,” Ez crossed his arms triumphantly.

Ekko was already planning, coming up with different songs for her to sing. “You know, you’d have a good voice for like gothy, ethereal metal. If you’d be down.”

“Metal?” Ez scoffed. “No way. She’s more of a pop-”

“Ezreal,” Vi said. “Respectfully, shut the fuck up.” She locked eyes on Lux, ignoring his shocked indignation. “It’s your voice, Lux. What do you want to sing?”

This time, Lux avoided Ezreal’s gaze, focusing instead on the rest of the bandmates. They gave her the space to speak, and when she understood that she was in full control of the situation, she squared her shoulders and said quickly, “I want to sing gothy, ethereal metal!”

Everyone but Ezreal cheered, though he stopped protesting.

“Alright,” Ekko said, placing a hand on her shoulder in comfort. “We got our gameplan. Let’s get to it.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“That’s right, Ezreal,” Jinx murmured. “She’s mine now. And if you ever want to see your little girlfriend again, then you better forfeit the contest. Your choice.”

Her hand lifted a crude doll with swoopy boy band hair. She did a poor impression of Ezreal. “Noooooo! Well, I guess you win, Jinx. You’re just too smart for me.”

She picked up two dolls: one of Lux, and one of herself. Her Lux voice was lighter, more breathy. “Thank you, Jinx! You’re my hero!” She pressed the dolls together and made a “Mwah!” sound.

Back in her normal tone, imitating herself. “Let’s get outta here, Starlight.”

There was movement at the studio door, followed by Viktor’s amused tone, “Am I interrupting?”

Jinx panicked, scooping the dolls under the counter. “N-no!”

“Interesting strategy,” he noted, taking his seat beside her. “Though, I don’t know how effective it will be in practice.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled. “It’s just my writing process.”

“I have no doubt,” he chuckled under his breath. “Ah, I don’t envy your situation, pupsik. But at least things seem to be going well?”

“Yeah.” She fidgeted with a dial on the soundboard. The conversation with Margot still haunted her. The last few times she had seen Viktor, Jinx was careful to keep it to just work. Especially under the scrutiny of Fishbone's glassy eyes.

She wondered how much Silco was paying attention. He didn’t care about the dolls: she had run through countless situations with them, hypothetical scenarios. Once, verbatim, he had told her he always skipped through that part of the feed, in an attempt to save her from embarrassment. This time would be the same, without a doubt.

But Viktor was different. She told Margot that she was doing at-home espionage, but that wasn’t really true. If she was supposed to be spying, she was doing a shitty job. She didn’t even know what happened between Viktor and Jayce that caused the fallout.

An idea struck her, something Lux had mentioned last night on the phone. Jinx considered him. “So are you and Jayce, like, broken up broken up?”

“We’re not together right now. Why?”

“Well, I’ve heard… and I know it’s none of my business, but a lot of people are saying that he and Medarda are… dating now.”

“Oh, I know,” Viktor said, unbothered. “They were seeing each other when Jayce and I were still together.”

Jinx started. “Wait. He cheated on you?”

“No! No, we had an open relationship. He and Mel have been involved for about a year now.”

“... Is that why you broke up?”

She could practically see the gears turning in his clockwork brain. “The reason was mostly because of… well, work was putting a big strain on our relationship. We had different ideas of how to improve the company. But I can’t deny that she was… a small part of it.”

Fishbones grinned in the corner of her vision. She did feel a little guilty for investigating, but she was also curious for her own reasons. “Because you were jealous?”

“No, not really,” he said. “I’ve always known Jayce was bisexual, and I never felt negatively towards any of our other opportunities, or even when we shared partners.”

“Ew. TMI, Vik.”

“But,” he continued, “Jayce has always approached men and women differently. With men, and especially in my case, he burns hot but it takes a long time for him to catch feelings. But with women, he falls hard and fast. And of course, Mel was the same. Not that I blame him: she is beautiful, and I’m certain that if I was attracted to women in any capacity, then I would be taken with her too.”

To say Mel Medarda was beautiful was an understatement. She was physically attractive, sure, but she was also elegant, diplomatic. The woman could charm a snake. Even Jinx had her celebrity crush phase, in early middle school when Mel first joined the senate. It was a parasocial relationship, of course, one of Jinx's romantic awakenings. The irony that Mel ended up sponsoring Ekko was not lost on her.

Viktor said, “She’s a busy woman, so he made sure he was available any time she was. And because of that, our schedule began to revolve around her’s.” His voice lowered just slightly. “And our home… she felt that our space was messy and disorganized, which it was, but… it was our space. And she took it upon herself to redecorate. I know she had good intentions, but…”

“... but it didn’t feel like home anymore.”

He didn’t say yes, but his sigh did.

“Did you ever talk to him about it?”

“Why would I? She’s our investor. Hextech wouldn’t exist without her. So instead of confronting him, when I saw an opportunity to step away, I took it.” He seemed to realize his own vulnerability, and shrugged it off. “That’s all.”

Jinx tried to think of what to say. People never really opened up to her. Probably because she was so unpredictable, which was fair. But when she came up with a way to talk to him, it was Vi’s voice that guided her words. “But if he doesn’t know, then how is he supposed to fix it?”

Instead of answering, Viktor said, “Perhaps it’s for the best. Jayce has always been more physically affectionate, more emotional. He deserves someone who can meet his needs, someone who is better off, someone… healthy.”

Jinx had felt that pain so many times before. She had fought it off for years after the accident, that feeling of being a burden to her family, that she was just in the way. They were words that she had accepted from herself thousands of times, but now, hearing Viktor say them, she found them unacceptable. “No,” she said. “That’s not true, Vik. You’re not less valuable just because you’re different.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what’s going through Jayce’s head, man,” she said honestly. “But I know that he cares about you. A lot. I didn’t really get a chance to hang out with you guys before… all this… but I know that the way he looked at you…”

She knew what she felt, it was just a matter of collecting it together into a coherent sentence. “Like, for example, Sky. When she was really down bad for you, she always looked at you differently. It was like… she wasn’t seeing you, the real you. It was like she was seeing the person she wanted you to be. But when Jayce looked at you, Vik, he saw you. Like, no offense, but you’re really fucking weird.”

“Thank you,” he said brightly.

“And when Jayce looked at you, he clearly knew you were really fucking weird. But he also really liked that about you. And I remember…” Her cheeks warmed at the thought. “I remember really envying that.”

The words were coming, too fast. The only person she ever shared these thoughts with was Silco, and even then, it had been years since she last said them out loud. “I always felt like Ekko and Vi wanted me to be a certain way, you know? They had this idea of who I should be, and they didn’t want me to be so weird and intense. But ultimately… That's who I am. And that’s why Silco was such a relief. You know, he accepted me, crazy and all.”

Viktor’s expression had dimmed. Probably because she was rambling, getting off track. “What I’m saying is,” she said. “Don’t just assume that Jayce doesn't like you anymore. Obviously right now isn’t the best time with the contest and everything, but when this is all over, just… talk to him. Maybe he’ll surprise you.” She cracked a grin. “And if he doesn’t, his loss.”

Viktor’s smile was thoughtful. “I’m the older one, shouldn’t I be imparting life lessons to you?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “I can be emotionally intelligent. Sometimes.”

Viktor said, “I… I don’t know what your situation is exactly, with Vi and Ekko. But I think they could surprise you, too.”

Panic laced itself along her spine, though not as intense as usual when Vi and Ekko were brought up. “No,” she said. “No, I can’t. At least… not right now.”

“That’s fine, pupsik.” Viktor made sure not to overstep. “If you need time, you need time. I know I certainly do.”

She watched as he pulled up the recording software. “What does pupsik mean, by the way? You call me that a lot.”

“Eh, it’s like… baby. Or doll.” At her horrified expression, he said quickly, “It’s different! It’s a term of endearment, that’s all.”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Really, it’s because of your-,” he indicated her hidden stash of dolls under the counter. “Your um… ‘writing process’.”

Her face flared red. “You know what, let’s-let’s get back to work.”

Viktor played the track they’d been working on, listening and altering the beats. Jinx tried to focus, though it was difficult with Fishbones murmuring in her mind. A weakness to exploit. Well done, Jinx.

#arcane #lightcannon #jinx #viktor #vicait #rock band au #battle of the bands au #face the noise #beat the daylight #my fic #okay I'm caught up on posting now lol

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vamossainz55 · 2 years ago

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Moonlight Ch. 3 | Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

a/n hey guys!!! here's chapter 3. i am literally blown away with the attention and the comments that both chapter 1 and chapter 2 got and i am honestly so so touched?? this chapter is a bit shorter than chapter 2 but we finally get reader x carlos interaction that is not just 2-3 words + carlando so i hope it's worth every word hehe. i am really excited bc i think i'm also getting more clarity where i want this to go and i can't wait to get more written out. as always constructive criticism is always appreciated !! and enjoy <3

warnings: none really? just angsty and a bit of mean carlos and mean reader but everybody's quite emotional in this chapter. a lot is going around.

summary: carlos has a little chat with lando about what's going on and he finally confronts you

Link to chapter 2 / all chapters / my masterlist

Chapter Three (3.2k words)

Carlos’ mind is spinning. He’s sat at the main table of course, next to Zak and Lando with Andreas too. Zak and Andreas are talking about some development that they are planning with management, but Carlos’ eyes are fixated on his cup, fingers slowly toying and tracing the rim of it as he plays the memory in his head over and over again.

The moment his eyes had landed on you he froze, mind going empty as he scrambled to think of any possible thing. As selfish or conceited it would sound- he really thought he would never have to see you again. Sure- you guys hadn’t broken up because of a big fall out or anything, but it had gotten a bit messy at the end of it. Because of that, the day Carlos had walked away from you he really thought that would be it.

Zak had been able to snap him out of the trance by asking if you both knew each other but before he could go and answer you had beat him to it. Why did you lie? He thinks to himself.

No- no we don’t. Your voice echoes in his head and he can’t help but to take a sharp breath, instantly sitting up and raising his head from the glass to snap himself out of it. As he does this he feels eyes on him and he realizes Lando is staring at him. “You good there mate?” Lando asks and Carlos simply nods, tapping his finger against the side of the cup as he scans over the room.

“Mhm yeah. Just tired I think.” He says eyes settling at your table, he tries avoiding it but his eyes are searching for you every once in a while and he can’t bring himself to stop. Lando doesn’t look like he believes him much and he follows Carlos’ gaze to look over at your table as well. He faintly remembers Zak joking about Carlos having a crush on the new intern. Haven’t ever seen you speechless like that. He had laughed, slapping Carlos’ shoulder in a way that even made Lando wince. Carlos laughed it off, but there was a flash of annoyance in his eyes that made Lando twist his brows slightly.

“Hey, what was all of that with Zak and your engineering team?” Lando asks, looking over the people at the table. He had met Tom already and a few others there, but he could spot three or four newbies. “Did they give you a bad vibe or something?” Lando asks but by the time he looks at Carlos the Spanish driver has his head down again, looking at his glass. Lando notices you looking over at them but the moment your eyes cross you quickly duck away too. Were you the one Zak had joked about?

The rest of the evening Carlos is distracted, and to everyone’s demise a distracted Carlos only meant a distracted Lando. The younger driver always fixated on Carlos and depended on him when talking with sponsors and bantering with the team. It’s not like he wasn’t capable of handling himself, but Lando had admiration for the older guy. He was experienced and carried himself with a serious demeanor that Lando tried to mimic. On the other hand, Lando managed to loosen up Carlos and bring up the child-like part of him that created a dynamic for the team.

Because of this, when Carlos was off, it threw Lando off too creating a completely different dynamic. Zak had given his usual pep talk speech, thanking the team and welcoming the new joiners for the upcoming season they were going to have because the team looked solid. It wasn’t like they were going to be the most competitive car but it was going in the right direction. Soon he was calling Carlos up for him to have a little talk and Carlos still looked just as dazed as he did earlier which made Lando nervous too.

“Um, well hey.” Carlos says a bit nervously, swallowing thickly as he brings the mic a bit closer to his mouth. He can feel all eyes on him and he usually doesn’t mind but the one person he was looking at was not looking back at him. “It’s amazing to see and meet all the new joiners and also amazing to see the whole team that’s worked so far on the amazing project. I was really excited when I got the offer for McLaren, and I’ve only got even more excited to get the next season started,” His sentence slows down as you lift your head up to look at him and he doesn’t know if this is better or worse. You don’t look away and his words are getting caught in his throat. The silence is loud but he can’t seem to get himself to speak, even when you look away, probably realizing you’re the reason he grew quiet.

He only snaps out of it when Lando gets up too, with a mic Zak had sneakily given him. “Um. Hi everyone. I think we just want to thank the team so far for all the hard work everyone’s put in.” He says, discreetly giving Carlos a nudge. Carlos simply nods, clearing his throat a bit. “And we are so excited to welcome the new and amazing members. We’re going to do amazing together.” Lando follows up and Carlos nods, muttering a thank you and making a quick joke about how he had spent too much time in the simulator and that his brain was fried followed with a forced laugh but it seems to fool everyone in the room. Almost everyone at least. They laugh back though and the tension is quickly forgotten and the two drivers slowly sit down. Carlos apologizes sheepishly but everyone brushes it off easily.

“Thanks Lando.” Carlos says sincerely because fuck, what just happened? He gives Lando a side smile and with the way Lando says it’s fine, as long as we are still up for golf? Carlos knows that this was probably not going to be the end of it.

The itch that Carlos had was right because it isn’t the end of the conversation at all. Lando finally takes up Carlos’ offer to learn golf and they both head to a driving range early in the morning after having breakfast together. Carlos wonders for a bit about the change in Lando’s heart but he realizes the younger boy has hidden intentions when your name suddenly gets brought up mid-conversation. It catches him off-guard as he almost loses the golf club after swinging it.

“Mierda,” he curses, catching the club as soon as he can and Lando is already ducking and covering his head, looking absolutely terrified for his life. “Sorry.” Carlos apologizes, looking at him and sighing. “What about y/n?” He asks, already uncomfortable to hear that Lando already knew your name. He definitely hadn’t been the one to tell him.

“Is she the reason you’ve been off?” Lando asks, leaning onto the golf club as Carlos looks across the field. There’s a brief moment of silence, only soft sounds of the others at the driving range hitting their golf balls. It’s almost therapeutic really, the sound tickles a part of Carlos’ brain and provides a comforting feeling in his chest.

“No.” he lies, looking over at Lando. It’s clear that the British driver doesn’t believe him, but he frankly does not care. He doesn’t understand why he needs to have the conversation at all. “How do you know her name anyways?” Carlos asks, slowly preparing himself to try for another swing. His legs spread a little and he fixes his posture.

“I talked to her yesterday,” and fuck Carlos almost misses again and his wrist moves in a weird way that causes a pain to shoot up his arm. He lets out a hiss and drops the golf club, seeing Lando now standing with his arms crossed over his chest and an unimpressed look on his face. “Seriously?” Lando asks, “So you both know each other? Because she said you didn’t.” Lando says and Carlos looks at him, trying to understand when Lando had the time to sneak behind his back and practically stab him (was he being dramatic? maybe).

“Yeah she’s been saying that.” Carlos says, and he leans the club against the wall with a sigh. It was clear that Lando wasn’t going to let this one go and at this point he could end up beheaded if Carlos continued to play. He stretches his arm a bit in hopes to loosen up a bit of the residual pain from the missed swing.

“So what? Did you guys use to mess around or something?” Lando asks and wow, straight to the point. Carlos rolls his eyes, cracking his knuckles as he looks across the field and seeing the golf balls flying across from all the other people actually hitting them. It's not him to avoid eye contact but he can’t help it, he can’t shake off the nerves that come up from you being brought into the conversation.

“You could say so.” He settles, looking over at Lando. Lando’s looking at him with his investigative face and Carlos can tell that he’s trying to link all the pieces together. It’s surprising how fast it happens, and if it weren’t to Carlos’ expense he would’ve given Lando a pat on the back.

“She’s your ex? The one you dated a while back? Weren’t you best friends?” Lando asks. There’s a mixture of surprise and cockiness to his question, and it's clear that he doesn’t need an answer to confirm his statement so Carlos decides to stay mum, simply staring back at Lando. “That’s rough.” He says and Carlos lets out a snort.

“That’s rough? Really? That’s it?” He laughs and the tension in his body suddenly dissipates. It amazed him how Lando could relax him so easily without even trying.

“I mean, she’s pretty, congrats?” Lando says, and it’s clear that the younger lad probably didn’t think he was going to get this far and Carlos shakes his head with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah. She is.” Carlos says absentmindedly, “We haven’t talked in ages though so it caught me off guard to see her.” Carlos admits and he can already feel his stomach twisting at the thought of having to see you again. “She should’ve told me she was going to join McLaren. It annoyed me a bit that she didn’t but acting like we’ve never met?” Carlos murmurs and gives Lando a sheepish smile when Lando pats him on the back.

-------

You both manage to miss each other for the next few weeks. Carlos is mainly working on the simulator with Lando and whenever he talks with Tom you’re nowhere to be seen. He tries his best to push you to the back of his mind but it’s still slightly nipping at him the more the days pass. He finds himself looking around the room for you every time he walks in and he can never tell whether he’s slightly disappointed or relieved to not see you anywhere. A part of him wants to ask Tom where you are but he stops himself from doing so because that would be too obvious. At some point it feels like you’re avoiding him and the longer he thinks about your little encounter the more annoyed he feels himself getting. What was your problem anyways?

He swears the universe is messing with him because the next time you both bump into each other he’s in the elevator by himself and it’s far too early for human interaction, especially with you. The doors are closing and he’s preoccupied on skipping through instagram stories that when he hears someone calling out to hold the elevator door open he does so without thinking much about it. He’s selfish to think that if he had recognized your voice he wouldn’t have pressed the ‘OPEN’ button, he would’ve just let the doors shut (or even pressed close really), but you’re coming inside like a tornado, clearly late for whatever you needed to do and you don’t even spare him a look. It takes him a second to realize you don’t even notice it’s him as you thank him, going to press the 5th floor button just to see that it was already lit up.

“You’re welcome.” Carlos says shortly, and he notices you visibly tense up, good he thinks. At least he wasn’t the only person uncomfortable and there was a brief sense of satisfaction that maybe he was getting under your skin the same way you were getting under his. His thoughts get thrown out the window though when you turn to face him and, since when was the elevator this small?

“Oh, hi.” You say like it’s nothing, before turning to face your back towards him and that’s enough to make Carlos’ teeth grind. The annoyance that was simmering in him is suddenly overflowing and he can’t find himself to hold back.

“Seriously? Hi? That’s it?” There’s venom laced to it that has you both surprised and you look back at him like you’re about to say something but no he thinks. It’s his turn to speak right now. “What are you even doing here? McLaren? Really?” He asks, as the door opens and he can practically hear your thoughts, already planning to book it. He grabs your wrist before you even have a foot out though, ignoring the way you both almost flinch at the contact before shaking his head. “We need to talk.”

You both end up in one of the empty meeting rooms after you had reluctantly agreed by muttering a fine before following behind him. The tension is palpable and it’s clear you both did not want to be there but frankly Carlos didn’t care. The room is big and quite empty, the tables were lined up to form a square with an empty space in the middle where you both were. The clean and blank white walls make it difficult to avoid eye contact as there is nothing to focus on apart from each other. He’s rubbing his fingers together because his hand feels like it's on fire from having held your wrist earlier, but he tries his best to brush it off and ignore the feeling.

“So?” He asks, crossing his arms. “What the hell are you doing here? Why would you come here?” You’re both standing, on almost opposite sides of the room and it's comical really, but for some reason what you find funny is his question because you laugh bitterly, even shaking your head.

“I’m interning here Carlos. Did you not remember Tom introducing me? I just graduated and I got this opportunity. What are you doing here?” You say, matching Carlos’ tone and he realizes how he probably sounded but he’s annoyed and he doesn’t care.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks. “You knew I would be in McLaren.” There is a tone of conviction in his voice. He knew you still watched races, that you still liked and followed the sport (especially if you were here right now). He knew you were invested and that you would know where each driver would go as soon as it was announced.

“I’m sorry Carlos, should I have called to ask for your approval? Ask if I can join your team?” You ask and he can’t help but cringe at that question because seriously? That’s not what he meant at all, but he’s so mad that you’d even insinuate that that he just decides to quip back at you instead of telling you that wasn’t the case.

“I mean, you technically are in my team now.” He can’t help himself to say. He feels a pool of satisfaction settle in his chest when it’s clear that you are fuming. “A heads up would have been nice. That’s all.” He follows up when you don’t say anything back. “You knew I’d be here, at least you had a choice to show up. Did you just want to throw me off or something?” He knows how he sounds, accusatory and bitter but he’s mad and his words are rolling off his tongue faster than he can think. The way you roll your eyes makes him even angrier.

“How conceited are you to think I chose to be here to get at you?” You ask and Carlos can’t help but scoff, muttering a whatever. “I didn’t even know I would be working under your team,” You say, using air marks when you say your team. “I dislike this as much as you do.”

“Regardless you could have told me. It’s basic decency y/n. It’s not like you don’t have my number.” Carlos says sharply and what you say surprises him.

“No, I don’t actually. Deleted it. Didn’t need it anymore.” He’s staring at you now in complete disbelief, because no way you deleted his number. He’s about to open his mouth but he can’t even accuse you of lying because he can’t even remember the last time you both exchanged words. Was it really that long ago?

“I see,” He settles with instead and this time he needs to lean back against the table, crossing his arms over his chest as you both silently stare at each other. “You still could have given me a heads up still. We both have instagram.” He knows he’s picking at straws now but he doesn’t care.

“Yeah and get lost in the sea of DMs you get? You’re Mr. Big Shot now” You scoff, also crossing your arms over your chest and he can’t help but sigh again.

“Why did you lie?” He asks now, deciding to ignore your jab at him. “When Zak asked if we knew each other- we could have said we were frie-'' Carlos says but he’s soon cut off. Your words are almost deafening.

“That’s the thing Carlos, we aren’t friends.” And Carlos doesn’t know what to do except to laugh. You’re looking at him unimpressed and he just shakes his head. He didn’t know what to expect really, because you were right, but he can feel an emptiness spread in his chest as your words decide to settle in there with it. It’s like a cold slap across his face.

“You know what y/n? Fuck you. I am trying to have a decent conversation with you.” He knows this isn’t true. The way he had confronted you had already set a sour tone. He finds himself pushing himself off the table though to properly stand, deciding that the conversation was already over. “Whatever. You do you. I do me. Just stay the fuck out of my way.” He says as he turns to go to the door.

He forces himself to not look back when he hears you say back a fine, shutting the door behind him before heading to the engineering team, already late. A few heads turn to him once he walks in but nobody really bats an eye, it was rare for Carlos to come late so letting it slide once wasn’t an issue.

He doesn’t even realize that you’re supposed to be there until you stumble in almost fifteen minutes later, murmuring an apology as you keep your head down and head to the back.

He tries his best to keep his mind focused on Tom, nodding along with the different suggestions he had on how he could possibly be running the car in tests. The moment he finally finds himself relaxing for a moment, Tom is saying something about how someone had really good insight on a few things. His jaw tenses when your name gets thrown into the conversation and at this point it felt like a sick joke. Of course Tom is already saying he’s going to call you over and Carlos decides to just nod, straightening his back a bit as he rests his arms on the table. He watches Tom get up before letting out a sigh to look back at the screen. He rubs his temples, tired already.

“Hey,” You say and Carlos nods, not even looking at you. The tension is there, but it's mixed with something else that leaves a sour taste in Carlos’ mouth when he greets you back. Thankfully Tom sits between you both, completely clueless at the discomfort you both felt before pulling out a few other files that he had.

You both glance at each other quietly before turning to the screen as Tom begins to point at a few things.

This was going to be a long season, Carlos can’t help but think.

________________________________

Link to Chapter 4

a/n: again ty ty ty for reading!!! i am open for suggestions or comments and constructive criticism. i hope you enjoy and i hope i can get a chapter out next week too. work has been eating me alive lowkey but it is what it is. aaaah,

taglist (y'all literally own my heart and i hope y'all enjoy): @luvrboygaslys-interacts @mossafiato @animesimp2 @gridmetro @iamasimpingh0e @ihearttheoriginals @panicforspec @wildflowertaste @hammyknight @im-an-overthinker @serialkillertbh @pierre-gasssllyy @lostinketterdam @organasith @sarasturniolo @azenpal @sukunasrealgf @imsoconfused2903

as always here's my masterlist i am taking reqs atm <3

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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 3 years ago

Note

hi, i just wanted to say i loved your charles oneshot :) i was wondering if you could do an enemies to lovers w/ daniel ricciardo? thanks!

DANIEL RICCIARDO ONESHOT

TEMPORARY STRANGERS

( WARNING: swearing, alcohol, blood/injury, little bit of fluff/angst? )

word count: 5.4k

< this is my attempted version lol >

You’d debated whether or not to go to Theo’s party. For one, it was on a Thursday night, which, in itself, was rather tragic for a party thrown for an adult because surely he had to have thought that most people would be working on a Thursday night? Secondly, you had an early shift at the hospital in the morning, so you weren't sure if staying at a party fit for Blair Waldorf for a couple of hours was entirely worth your presence.

But, after a persuasive conversation on the phone — in which Theo spent the majority of it begging you to make an appearance — you’d caved and now you found yourself standing in the middle of a kitchen sipping on a lemonade, expertly avoiding everyone’s eyes and wondering why you agreed to come in the first place.

The apartment was a large, luxurious one, decked from head to toe in pricey decorations and with an open-plan layout. You even had half the mind to compare it to what you imagined a Royal Palace looked like.

In other words, it was big and incredibly tasteful and fancy, in the most annoying way possible.

Then again, Theo did own a successful Estate Agency, which specialized heavily in selling buildings in the centre of London. The money pooled from that spoke for itself, and it also meant that since university he’d met people in all aspects of his work, all of which looked like they’d been invited to his party, which unfortunately meant you didn’t know anyone, and the couple that you did, you had absolutely zero intentions of actually talking to them.

The guests themselves were glamorous, dressed to the nines and decked with expensive watches and jewellery, and you felt out of place wearing your best dress with your favourite high-tops and a blazer.

On another note, the lemonade and food were delicious. It was almost as if he’d hired a private caterer and then shoved them out of the back door before people started arriving.

“You know, I didn’t think you meant it when you said you’d come.” A smooth voice knocked you out of your reverie, and you whirled around, hastily swallowing the lemonade when you noticed the familiar blonde that you’d befriended in uni.

“I didn’t think I did either if that makes a difference.” You replied, biting the inside of your cheek as Theo rolled his eyes, making his way around the kitchen island to place a couple of collected empty glasses near the sink.

“Well, are you having fun?” He asked, leaning back against the counter next to you, his shoulder judging yours teasingly.

You hummed, narrowing your eyes, “Not as much fun as when you crashed my Grandparents party and scared away the boy they tried to set me up with, let’s just leave it at that.” You breathed a laugh, swirling the lemonade in your cup as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing.

“Oh, I haven’t had that much fun in ages.” He said, his attention turning to the other partygoers in the near vicinity, his eyebrow raising as he spotted someone trying to sneak one of his clocks into their bags without being caught. It didn’t work; they saw his gaze and turned a suspicious shade of red and pretended as if they’d simply been admiring the thing before walking away.

Theo cleared his throat, adjusting his tie.

“I think I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, his finger pointing in the direction of the culprit, an apologetic look in his eyes. You nodded, breathing a short laugh in understanding.

“I think I’m going to head out anyway—”

“Oh, please stay.” He held out a hand, silently begging for you to stay.

You hadn’t seen each other in at least a couple of months because of clashes with schedules, and it was getting to the point where the odd texts and phone calls and video calls were starting to feel more like a chore than a privilege. You had been close friends for the best part of ten years now, and you were still close, but adult life was more difficult than you expected trying to balance relationships and work.

You breathed in deeply, eyes flashing around the guests, accidentally catching the eye of Daniel and flicking your attention back to Theo hastily.

“I’ll stay for now but I’m going home in an hour, I have an early shift in the morning.” You promised, offering a small smile as Theo nodded, returning the gesture before disappearing into the throwing of people.

It wasn’t long before you were approached by an unfamiliar face. She was — like all the other people in the room — dressed nicely, and she stumbled slightly in her heels, almost running into you.

“Oh, shit, sorry about that.” She muttered, and you could smell the faint, bitter scent of alcohol on her breath, indicating that she wasn’t completely sober.

“Oh, it’s no problem.” You reassured, asking if she wanted something else to drink, seeing as though you were standing next to the drinks table and the fridge.

She shook her head, instead resuming Theo’s place against the counter next to you.

“Do you see that man over there?” She whispered, pointing her finger in the direction of the crowd out in the living area.

You furrowed your eyes, trying to lean slightly to make sure you could see who she was pointing at.

“I think you’re gonna have to be more specific because there’s about thirty people in that general direction.” You said, resisting the urge to laugh as the woman sighed, shuffling closer to the group and standing in her heeled tiptoes to see over the sea of heads.

“Okay, so he’s about 6 foot, brunette, curly hair…” she snuck a glance at you out of the corner of her eye to make sure you were trying to look out for the person she was talking about, “really fit and has an Italian nose.” She concluded.

You pursed your lips, suddenly feeling quite awkward in the presence of a stranger. You averted your eyes back to the pile of drinks on the kitchen island and halted your actions in searching for who could only be Daniel Ricciardo.

She noticed your reaction and gasped loudly, her hand flying to her mouth as if you just spilled the hottest gossip of the season.

“You know him.” She stated, stepping back slightly with an accusatory shine in her eyes.

“I don’t know him, I just know of him.” You lied, trying to brush the topic off as subtly as possible.

“Nuh-uh,” she said, taking your arm and ignoring the cry of protest from your lips as she dragged you away from the kitchen area and into the heart of the party, where the chatter was significantly louder, “I don’t believe that. You can introduce us.” She insisted.

You dug your heels into the floor as best as you could, trying to push away the wave of panic that surged through your veins.

“Lady,” you started, ripping your arm out of her iron grip, “I don’t know him.” You reiterated.

“If you don’t know him, how can you know of him?” She enquired snarkily, arching a perfectly plucked eyebrow in your direction.

“How can you not know of him?” You returned, shrugging. Her face remained blank, and it occurred to you she really didn’t know who Daniel was. “That’s Daniel Ricciardo. Formula 1 driver for McLaren this year.” You told her, straightening out your blazer uncomfortably, unaware of the eyes on you from the other side of the room.

“Formula 1? So he’s, like…a millionaire?” She licked her lips,sultry eyes slipping over the crowd and fixating on who you assumed to be Daniel.

You cringed, resisting the urge to turn your nose up at her. You suddenly regretted telling her about his career because even a blind man could see that his money was the main thing on her mind at that moment in time.

You neglected from answering her question, instead trying to slink back to the kitchen, but you were interrupted by the scuffle of feet and the sound of something shattering before an obvious cry of pain was heard throughout the room, nearly drowned out in the volume of the music pumping from the speakers.

You swivelled back around, and several people had stepped away from the scene leaving an open gap in the crowd as more people gathered around to see what the kerfuffle was.

The girl had disappeared seemingly into thin air and you were about to take the moment of peace as an opportunity to leave, but Theo’s voice called your name over the crowd, laced with urgency.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, heart pounding with anxiety at the panic in his voice. You made your way to the crowd, apologising to people as you pushed your way through to get to the centre of all the attention.

As soon as you edged into Theo’s vision, he dragged you by the elbow into the centre, pointing to the person who’s cry of pain was heard over the music.

Blood was dripping from a deep gash in the palm of their hand, and the person in question looked a little pale, holding their hand up above their head, a permanent wince etched onto their face. Despite that, they looked rather uncomfortable with all the attention, and it was this that caused Theo to turn to the crowd and usher them away.

“I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.” Theo informed you, and you wasted no time in helping the injured person raise their arm higher above their head, guiding them through the crowd with a secure arm around their waist.

“A cut on my hand doesn’t hinder my ability to walk, okay?” They tried, shifting out of your grip.

“No, but if you pass out, it hinders my ability to patch you up.” You retorted, hurriedly passing your glass of lemonade back to Theo.

The person let a weak, sarcastic huff pass their lips, but they let you guide them to the bathroom, keeping an eye on the blood dripping down their arm and creeping into the sleeve of their blazer.

“Toilet or tub?” You asked, kicking the door shut behind you and casting a weary glance back at their hand.

“Depends on the context.” They answered.

You rolled your eyes, settling them on the toilet and quickly rifling through the sink cupboards, locating the first aid kit with ease.

“I’m gonna need you to take off your blazer.” You said, never imagining that you’d say those words to Daniel Ricciardo of all people.

Your relationship with Daniel was weird to say the least. You first met at — surprise, surprise — Theo’s party a few years ago. You’d gotten along swimmingly, perhaps a little bit too well, and it was safe to say he was incredibly charming and cursed with good looks. You were quite good friends, actually.

Until one day he pulled a face at you when you approached him at an award’s evening of some sort. You’d got no idea what happened to elicit such a negative reaction, or any idea on what you could have done, but he’d sneered at you and turned around, making conversation with the person next to you. He’d never explained why, but ever since that day he’d ignored you as much as possible, and it wasn’t exactly hard not to enjoy his company when he was so obviously disgusted with your presence.

Maybe it was the fact that you only managed to snag one piece of cake that night.

“You want a striptease? At least take me out for a date, first.” He muttered, pressing his lips together in obvious discomfort as he peeled his blazer off, being cautious of the blood. “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with this anyway, I’m fine.” He insisted.

You perched yourself on the edge of the bath, placing your bag on the tiled flooring and zipping open the first aid kit.

“Dan, you’re dripping blood…you’re clearly not fine.” You muttered, carefully rolling his shirt sleeve up past his elbow, ignoring the fact that this was the first time in a long time you’d been this close to him. Ignoring the fact that he looked positively fine in a suit, minus the blood.

He let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes and shifting uncomfortably under your touch.

You turned his hand over, assessed the gash and winced, trying to ignore the tingling, uncomfortable sensation mirrored on your own palm as your eyes ran over the gash. It ran the width of his palm, and it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was quite deep in some places.

“Can we please be quick?” He sighed, his other hand smoothing out non-existent creases in his dress trousers.

You hated to admit it, but his words stung.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t hate me, for fifteen minutes at least?” You said, an unintentional fierceness to your tone, one that you’d tried your best to dial down in his presence, but it seemed to no avail.

“Only if you do the same.” He muttered, and you took the liberty of ignoring his comment, reaching to fish an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit, gently dabbing at the edges to clean off some blood so you could see the extent of the damage. You flexed his hand, ignoring his hiss of pain as the cut stretched slightly.

“What was that for?” He asked, his free hand slapping your hand as he fought to take his cut up hand out of your grip.

You opened your mouth in surprise, the skin on your own hand stinging slightly with the sudden contact.

“Don’t slap me! I’m trying to make sure you don’t have glass in it, you twat.” You said, shaking your head, “Which it doesn’t, by the way, so you’re welcome for checking.”

“How did you even know to check for glass?”

“Because there was broken glass on the floor?” You answered, applying pressure to the wound and lifting his hand a little higher again.

He huffed, turning his face away from you, so he was facing the wall, his lip curling into a sneer.

You rolled your eyes, “What did you mean when you said ‘only if you do the same’, anyway?” You murmured, keeping one hand on the wound and reaching to the floor to pick up your bag and unclip the front.

He narrowed his eyes, watching you root around in your bag for something, and he was about to say something, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

“Everything ok in there? Everyone still alive?” Theo’s muffled voice echoed into the room.

“We’re fine.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel grimaced, brown eyes burning through the door as if he was trying to send a telepathic message to Theo through the door.

“Good.” Was all Theo said before the full sound of his shoes against the wooden veneers could be heard on the other side of the door.

You hummed in delight, producing the very thing you were originally looking for in your bag.

“Haribo?” Daniel asked, raising his brows expectantly.

“To get your blood sugar levels up, you’re still pale.” You answered, ripping open the packet, and just as you were about to pour the sweets into Daniel’s outstretched hand, you paused, recoiling.

“What?” He asked, noticeably frustrated that he wasn’t scoffing the sweets.

“Why don’t you like me?” You questioned, biting on the inside of your cheek anxiously as he stared straight at you, his face expressionless.

He was quiet for a while, and you almost told him to forget you even said anything because the simple question looked like it hit home, but he opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He looked at you from behind furrowed brows, apparently confused by your question.

“Why don’t I like you?” He repeated the question. “Why don’t you like me?”

You gaped at him, your cheeks flushing with irritation at his words.

“I don’t—I never—” you sighed in frustration, the hand clutching the packet of Haribo clenching unconsciously as Daniel looked at you with mild concern, “Why the hell would you think I don’t like you?”

He blinked, casting his sights back to the wall, ignoring your eye contact.

“Theo told me you, and I quote, ‘hate me’,” he answered, swallowing roughly as you continued to stare at him.

His discomfort under your gaze brought a sick sense of satisfaction, but at the same time you were having difficulty wrapping your head around what he’d just admitted.

“Theo? My Theo?” You clarified, arching an eyebrow.

He nodded.

“When did he tell you that?” Your heart was starting to hammer in your rib cage, the power of which was almost painful to endure.

“When we went clubbing a while back,” he shrugged.

“Why would he—?” You muttered, before turning back to Daniel. “Are you sure he said that?”

“Positive.”

“So you’ve been so hostile towards me for months now, all because of something someone else said to you in a dark, loud club when you were — let’s face it — probably drunk?”

Daniel sucked in his cheeks, now realising how there would have been so many chances for misunderstanding in such an environment.

“Yes…” he replied, dragging the word out slowly, trying his best to take his mind off the way your grip on his wound was slowly increasing.

“I never said I hate—”

“So…you don’t not like me?” He interrupted, his eyes wide.

“No…Yes…I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer that, but I never hated you.” You said, ducking your head down at his intense glare, instead turning your attention back to his bleeding hand, carefully peeling off the gauze to take a peak. You suddenly remembered the scrunched up packet of Haribo still clutched in your grasp, and you shoved it in Daniel’s direction, not bothering to even look at him when he took it, humming quietly in thanks.

He didn’t know how to respond to that, the revelation sending his mind spinning about a hundred different directions.

He was mad at Theo, even if what happened wasn’t entirely his fault, but he was mostly mad at himself for not even bothering to try to talk to you and hash it out. The months he spent trying to ignore you were completely miserable, and the worst part is, he put you through hell without even giving you any reason, and all of that ignorance was not even worth it…that is, if what you said was true.

“Oh.” Was all he said, taking to watching you strap up his hand after telling him he (thankfully) didn’t need stitches, but he did need to rest it for a while, which was probably for the best because the F1 Summer Break was currently in full swing.

Once you’d put the soaked gauze in the bin and tidied everything away to how you’d arrived before the bloodbath ensued, you stood up, brushing nonexistent dirt off your dress, and offered Daniel a rather confused smile.

He bit his lip in thought, your eyes unconsciously zipping to his mouth, before steering your gaze back up to his eyes when he caught you, raising his eyebrow slightly, a pale shade of pink tinting his cheeks as he fought back a smirk.

You turned away, looking at the door, which was very much tempting you at that moment in time.

He cleared his throat once he’d noticed your attention flicker away from him, and it was only then he registered he practically craved you to be looking at him. Whenever he was at functions with Theo, he would always unknowingly search for you, even when he thought you hated his guts, he’d still scan the crowd of unfamiliar faces in the hopes that he’d see you again.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously, feeling your eyes on him. It was as if he’d suddenly melted into a teenager again right beneath your eyes. He cleared his throat again, sinking back against the toilet in an attempt to make himself smaller at the revelation he’d just arrived at.

It was weird, seeing him so shy when he was naturally such an outgoing character.

You found a part of your brain secretly admiring his flustering, but you quickly shut that down, reminding yourself that you shouldn’t be having those thoughts, especially since you’d just had to mop up a slice on his hand.

“I think I’m gonna go grab a drink and join the fray.” You said, hating the way your voice sounded so small against the echoing walls of the bathroom tiles.

Daniel snapped his eyes to yours, holding them intently, slightly alarmed at your words.

The last thing he wanted was for you to leave him; call it soppy, but he wanted to make up for lost time as soon as he possibly could, and he knew there would be very few opportunities considering both your careers were so demanding.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I just want to say, thanks for all of this.” He gestured down to his hand, and you smiled.

“No problem. Just…stay away from broken glass for a bit and you should be fine.” You mumbled, words not registering in your brain as Daniel breathed a small laugh, looking utterly starstruck and sad at the same time.

“I’ll try my best.”

You offered one last smile, checking you still had your bag, and without another word you slipped out of the bathroom door, hearing the handle click behind you.

You could still hear the thumping remnants of the party in the next room, and without really caring who you bumped into along the way, you made a beeline for the kitchen, filling up a plastic wine glass with the nearest spirit and downing it as quickly as possible. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, immediately feeling guilty because of the early shift, and hurried to fill the glass back up with water, trying your best to dispel the effects of alcohol before they even had an impact.

It seemed to work.

Your head was spinning, unrelated to the liquids you’d just absorbed, but because of the bathroom fiasco that had just occurred only moments prior.

You were that caught up in your own thoughts, trying to separate fact from fiction and thought from feeling, that you completely missed the very brunette on your mind stride past the kitchen and into the living area, looking like a man on a mission as he tried to seek out Theo.

It didn’t take him long, he just had significantly more trouble trying to shake off a blonde that refused to let go of his arm, and he found Theo leant against a table, looking worn out, his mind absent from reality.

In the time it took for you to patch Daniel up, it looked as if Theo had faced a war and somehow escaped.

“You okay?” Daniel asked, hand clapping into Theo’s shoulder in an attempt to bring him back to reality.

He jumped, immediately relaxing when he registered just who was standing in front of him.

“I’m fine, but if that…person over there takes another step towards my Grandma, he’s not going to know what hit him.” He answered, finger pointing at a rather suspicious looking man.

“I don’t see a Grandma anywhere.” Daniel pointed out, slightly concerned.

Theo rolled his eyes, as if he’d had to answer the question a million times already, “She��s the purple one on the mantelpiece.” He muttered, taking a swig of whatever was in his glass.

Daniel nodded, feeling guilty for even bringing up the topic, but the completely detached behaviour from Theo was giving him a hard time in focusing on what he actually came over to do.

“Sorry about that, mate.” He apologised, breathing in deeply.

Theo shrugged.

“Anyway, does Y/N still have the same phone number or did she change it?” Daniel questioned, attempting to pretend like the question wasn’t that big of a deal by shrugging and avoiding making eye contact with Theo, but the raise of the eyebrow and curious, piercing blue stare proved that his attempt was futile.

“I knew you still liked her.” Theo chuckled.

“Am I that transparent?” Daniel quipped, pressing his lips together in a tight line.

“Only for me.” Theo grinned, patting Daniel’s cheek.

Daniel pulled a face, swiping Theo’s hand away.

“But no, she’s still got the same number. Why’d you ask?”

Daniel shrugged, already backing away, attention flickering around the room, once again searching for something — the action of which didn’t go unnoticed by Theo, who positively cackled inside, “Just curious.”

“If curious means ‘I-fucked-up-with-a-really-good-person-big-time-and-I-need-to-make-it-up-somehow-before-I-ask-her-out-for-real-this-time-instead-of-practicing-it-in-the-mirror’, then, whatever you say.”

“That was ages ago!”

“People don’t forget!” Theo yelled, smirking in triumph as Dan disappeared around the corner, no doubt searching for you.

You were sitting on the cold, stone steps outside the apartment building, your phone in your hand and debating whether or not to call a taxi or walk home before it gets too dark.

Your thumb was hovering over the call button to your local taxi when the building doors slammed open, the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete as a tall figure leapt down the last three steps, running a hand through their curls in frustration as they looked left, then right, and sighed, reaching into their jacket pocket to produce their phone.

You couldn’t see their face, only the back of their head, but you’d recognise that figure anywhere.

You looked down, your heart stuttering at the sudden buzzing of the phone in your hand.

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the urge to laugh at the hilarity of the situation, and answered the call, lifting the phone up to your ear, your eyes fixated on the pacing figure on the pavement, watching him from your spot at the top corner of the stairs.

“Hello?” The person asked, sounding a bit breathless through the phone.

“Hi.”

“It’s Daniel...Ricciardo.” He winced at his own awkwardness.

“I know. You’re still saved in my contacts.”

“I am?” He replied, tone laced with shock.

You were almost embarrassed to admit that you’d held onto a little shred of hope in thinking he’d eventually get over himself, “You had a paddy with me, remember?”

“About that, I’m really sorry. Like, really, really, really,really, really—”

“I get the idea.” You sighed.

“No, I don’t think you understand how sorry I am for it. It was so insanely stupid of me to stop talking to you because of something I thought I heard in a club — a fucking club of all places — without even thinking of talking to you—”

“Why didn't you talk to me?”

He was silent for a while, and you noticed he’d halted his pacing on the pavement. “I know it sounds like I’m making up excuses, but I really thought you hated my guts, and that...it hurt because I kind of had a bit of a crush on you and I pushed you away because I think a subconscious part of my mind thought that if I did that then it would be better in the long run because I wouldn’t be so attached to you if something went weird later on.” He explained, his voice lowering and quieting towards the end, as if he’d just understood what he didn’t understand.

“That’s...a lot to unpack.” You murmured, noticing the way his shoulders had slumped.

“Yeah...we don’t have to do it right now, though.”

“No, I agree, I think we’d need a nicer place to sort though our emotional struggles than outside Theo’s apartment building.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit weird — what?” He caught himself, spinning around on his heels.

You offered a shy wave once he’d tilted his head in your direction, realising you’d been watching him talk to you the entire time.

“I was looking for you.” He said once he’d hung up the phone, meeting you halfway on the steps.

“Why?”

“Can I walk you home?” He resorted to asking.

_____

The journey home took about twice as long as it usually would, and by the time you’d both made it onto your street, night was beginning to creep through, the sky changing to a darker blue, street lamps beginning to turn on.

The conversation flowed remarkably easily, albeit there was a noticeable hesitance in dancing around that subject, but you pretended not to notice it, and you had a feeling Daniel was trying to do the same.

He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, almost disbelieving of that fact that you were in front of him, even after what he’d put you through, and he had to keep catching himself to ensure you didn’t notice him looking.

You did.

“So, how are you feeling about going back after the Summer Break?”

He stifled a smile, “I don’t know why, but I have a really good feeling about going back. You know what? It has to be those Haribo’s.” He breathed a laugh.

“What? I hand out magic Haribo?” You smirked, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“No.”

“You say that now, but you’ll take it back when I get a podium.”

“When you do win, just don’t go around telling everyone about my magic Haribo.”

“Oh, the Haribo are reserved for me and for me only. It won’t have the same effect if you give some to Lando.”

“I’ll just take your word for it, I guess.”

You breathed a laugh, coming to a halt on the pavement, the familiar house standing to your left.

Daniel looked up.

“I thought you had a Fiesta?” He asked, pointing to the blue Hyaundi parked on the driveway.

“I’m sorry, is my car not up to the standard you’re used to?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow teasingly in his direction.

“Oi, I’ll have you know that I learnt to drive in a — I can’t even remember what model it was, but I do remember having to really press down on the brake…and the air con was broken.” He defended, throwing his hands up as if to say he was surrendering.

You bit your lip, “I learnt to drive in a Mercedes.”

His reaction was priceless.

“A Mercedes? You learnt to drive in a—wow.”

“It was just the company car, I didn’t really have a choice.”

“Still…wow.” He paused, feet tapping the pavement agitatedly, “I have a proposal.”

You met his eyes, unable to help feeling slightly anxious by the prospect.

“Go on.” You encouraged, crossing your arms tightly.

“If I win a GP…wait—can we make a deal?” He asked, throwing his hand out.

You nodded.

“If I win a GP, I get to take you on a date.” He offered, raising one eyebrow but somehow maintaining eye contact.

“But…what’s in it for me?” You smirked.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “That’s so rude…but, okay…I take you to Monza, and if—when I win a GP, I get to take you out. For my own sake, I’m gonna pretend like I will win one because I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

“You’ll win one.” You stated simply, shrugging.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“Because you’re Daniel Ricciardo, when have you ever not been successful in a car?” You asked, pulling a face as if it was obvious from the get-go.

Daniel didn’t say anything after that. He just sort of looked at you, twisting his mouth up in thought. You couldn’t tell what was going through his mind at that moment in time, but you had a sneaking suspicion he was trying to believe your words.

“You really believe that?” He finally said, a hint of what sounded like insecurity laced in his tone.

“You don’t?” You shot back, your heart breaking slightly at his demeanour.

“I never left.” He mumbled under his breath, turning away from you slightly with furrowed brows, seemingly having a conversation with himself.

You knew those words would stick around in your mind for a long time.

But there was something so addictive about ‘Daniel Ricciardo wins the 2021 Italian Grand Prix’.

#daniel ricciardo #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #driver x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo oneshot #mclaren #daniel ricciardo x reader #enemies to lovers #f1 fanfiction #fluff #angst

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frostedfaves · 4 years ago

Text

Naive (1)

Masterlist

Pairing: demon!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Of all the humans Wanda has met, you’re suddenly her favorite.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!fic, demon things™️ (be warned that this shit will get much darker in the future), subtle hand kink (don’t @ me)

A/N: special shoutout to the anon that inspired this fic series, I hope you enjoy this weird combo of AOU x IW Wanda. also if you have any previous knowledge of demons, throw it out the window before you read this because I guarantee that things will not add up here lmao

Wanda’s favorite thing about interacting with humans is her effect on them.

Walking through a crowd is fine. She’ll brush a few shoulders and rattle a few unsuspecting adults, flash solid black eyes at kids that either stare or scream. It’s temporary and brings a bit of fun to an otherwise dull day.

The real joy comes from direct contact. Wanda travels miles away from her apartment building, choosing different stores, restaurants and cafés just to keep things interesting. A new cashier each time. She’ll have an air of friendliness about her that isn’t exactly fake; she finds most humans to be charming, despite their fragile minds.

“Will that be all?” Roy--according to his name tag--asks with a grin and Wanda nods in response. “Okay, your total is $21.14. You can just swipe or insert your card in the machine there.”

Wanda inserts her card carefully, complimenting the decor as she waits for the transaction to be completed. After returning it to her wallet, she flashes a soft smile at Roy as he hands her the receipt, purposefully brushing her fingers with his. As his skin makes contact with one of her rings, she notices the goosebumps rising along his arm and hears his breathing pattern change.

“Roy? Everything alright?”

She hears the concerned voice of a coworker as she makes her way to a table to wait for her meal, already seated by the time Roy coughs in an effort to collect himself.

“Yeah, just feeling off I guess. I’ll be fine.”

A chuckle falls from her lips as she watches the poor cashier attempt to return to his previous state of mind, finding the urge to smile and wave when his eyes cut over to her. His voice trembles when he calls her name and he stands as far away as possible when she approaches the counter to grab her order.

“Thanks for everything, Roy.”

Sensing that he’s startled enough without it, she keeps her other tricks hidden in her sleeves and simply walks away, holding her laughter until the doors close behind her. A good meal with a side of human interaction, her absolute favorite.

The next day brings Wanda to a bookstore around lunchtime. She takes a minute to browse the aisles, taking an exceptionally long time lingering in the section harboring books on angels and demons. The stereotypes amuse more than upset her like they used to in the beginning.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda turns to make eye contact with the employee behind her, about to ask a question for the fun of it when a laugh catches her attention. Her gaze redirects to the café counter straight ahead, and a warm feeling washes over her when she hears the laugh again.

You’re genuinely entertained by the elderly woman purchasing a bagel with exact change, and Wanda manages to catch the end of the conversation as she draws near.

“Safe to say, I haven’t worn the blouse since that day.” She bids you farewell with her bagel and receipt in hand, eyes twinkling as she observes Wanda on her way past. “You have such bright and beautiful hair, dear.”

“Thank you,” Wanda responds with sincerity, attention locked on you while approaching the counter. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you greet her with a voice much calmer than the one you use with most of your other customers. “What can I get you today?”

You watch the orange haired woman turn her head to study the items behind the glass, taking the time to do your own inspection. You admire the dark red jacket that covers most of her torso, gaze lingering on the multiple rings hugging her fingers that seem to be smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her dress, almost in a nervous fashion. It brought you a bit of comfort, assuming that she was affected in the same way.

“What do you recommend?”

“Oh, well…” You walk over to open the glass case from your side of the counter, naming each item as you grab it. “I usually have this pretzel that’s stuffed with spinach and cheese and this brownie. I can heat both of them for you, if you’d like.”

“I would love that,” Wanda responds in a grateful tone, placing a bottle of water on the counter after taking it from the fridge. “And I’ll also have one of these incredibly overpriced waters.”

You begin her order with a laugh, and she watches you ring everything up with the speed and expertise of a seasoned employee, wondering how she’d gone this long without running into you. The total price is brought to the digital screen just before her card is inserted, and she takes the time to quickly slip her rings into her pockets while you’re taking the pretzel and brownie over to the miniature oven. The last thing she wants to do is scramble your brain before she even gets the chance to explore it.

“Here’s your receipt,” you announce while giving Wanda the slip of paper, your eyes lingering on her hand for a moment before looking at her again. “Your food should be ready soon.”

“Okay, thank you…” Her sentence trails off as she searches for your name, the letters rolling off her tongue with ease when she finally locates it on the apron covering your chest.

“You’re welcome…” You trail off in the same fashion and she catches on quickly.

“Wanda.”

“You’re welcome, Wanda,” you repeat as you hand her the water bottle before she can walk away.

Less than two minutes later, you approach the table she’s taken over with two small ceramic plates and a sheepish grin.

“I should’ve asked if you were going to stay a while, but I can grab some bags if you need to go.”

Wanda shakes her head with a laugh as she takes them from you, startling you when she doesn’t react to the excessive heat radiating from the dishes.

“This is perfect.”

She takes her time with eating, and your attention is drawn to her between customers, grateful that she’s too busy with her phone to notice your stares. On the other hand, Wanda’s mind is filled with thoughts of you. What you look like when you think she can’t see you glancing over, what you smelled like when you were close. The nerves, the kindness, the desire to learn her name despite her being just another customer to you. She knows that you noticed her missing rings, but she’s already prepared with a cover story. A two minute conversation has her dying to pick your brain more, learn your habits and become more familiar with your body, beyond a simple brush of your fingertips. She already wants you to herself, just the way you came, without her interference for now; that’ll come later.

A good meal with a side of human interaction, her absolute favorite.

Despite Wanda leaving an hour before your shift ended, she lingers in your thoughts on the bus ride and walk home. You find yourself recalling her kind smile, fidgeting fingers and the scent of her perfume when she passed you on her way out, and you’re so deep in your memories that you end up colliding with your apartment door.

“That’s not going to get you inside any faster, dear.”

Your cheeks burn as you face Ruth for the second time today, the first time being earlier when you sold her a bagel.

“I know, Ruthie,” you respond sheepishly as you pull your keys from your pocket. “Is everything okay? You’re usually in bed watching a cowboy show by now.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to come home so I could talk to you.” She checks to see if the hallway is empty before opening her door and waving you over. “Come on, quickly.”

You scurry into the apartment behind her, taking in the scene before you while she locks the door. Having visited her before, you know she keeps the television at a higher volume, but it seems louder than normal.

“I know I might seem like I’ve lost my marbles, but I wanted to warn you about that woman you saw today....The one with the bright hair.”

“You mean Wanda?” you question, eyes widening when she nods. “Warn me about what?”

“There’s something off about that Wanda, if that even is her real name.” She snatches her arm out of her robe and brings it closer for you to see. “I’ve had these chills since I brushed against her earlier. Something’s not right with her. How do you even know her name? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assure her as you help her slip her arm back in the sleeve. “I only know her name because we were having a friendly conversation and she used mine. I was just being polite to someone I’ll probably never even see again.”

“Just be careful,” she pleads as you head toward her door again, and you offer your best attempt at a relaxed smile.

“I’ll be fine, Ruthie. Get some rest, okay?”

You hear her lock the door behind you as you make your way back to your own apartment, rushing through the process of unlocking the door and securing it once you’re inside. As much as you don’t want to let Ruth get you worked up over a stranger, you can’t help thinking about the odd little things you noticed earlier.

It isn’t unusual for someone to linger after buying food or drinks from your counter, whether they have homework or even just a phone to keep them busy. Wanda seemed to be waiting for someone the entire time, and you remember hoping that she wasn’t on a date, despite not wanting her to be stood up. But she simply slid her phone in her pocket and departed with a friendly wave as if nothing had happened.

You especially remember her waving at you with those ringless fingers, and wondering silently where the intricate jewelry had disappeared to. Obviously you just assumed that the rings were tucked away on her person and not dumped in the trash, but she doesn’t seem like the type of person to give up on her accessories in the middle of the day. Part of you--a part that you didn’t dare to address--wondered if she’d emptied her hands to send you a subtle sign. No, that can’t possibly be it.

Sleeping proves to be difficult with so many unanswered questions floating about, but you eventually give into the act. A few hours later, you peel open your eyes when you think you hear something in the room. The digital clock that sits on your bedside and serves as an alarm and occasional radio reads 3:34am, and you’re just about to close your eyes again when you hear another sound. You raise your head to turn toward your closet, and a scream is trapped in your throat as you catch sight of a figure in the shadows.

The next time you wake, the sun is out and your alarm is blaring on the nightstand beside you. Your gaze flickers over to the closet as you reach out to silence it, your heartbeat dropping slightly when you don’t see anything other than clothes. Deciding that you must’ve been dreaming, you shake away the fearful thoughts and head to the bathroom to start getting ready for another day of work.

The only thing you haven’t decided on yet is whether you want to see Wanda again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #frosty's dark!fics

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kkusuka · 4 years ago

Note

What about a insecure reader about her and Ushijima's relationship since he doesn't seem all to interested in having her around unless it's for volleyball purposes. So when she starts to drift away from him he's super confused, suddenly Tendou becomes more comfortable to sleep on at movie nights, and Reon seems to know everything you used to tell Ushijima. And he struggles internally because he doesn't know what to do. And the last straw was when you walked in holding Goshiki's hand and he walked over pushing the 1st year away with a worried/pained/anxious face shaking his head saying no because he doesn't to no what else to say but he knows it's not right.

Muddle<3

relationship: ushijima wakatoshi x reader, slight oikawa tootu x reader

words: 1.5k

synopsis: Ushijima can’t bare to lose you.

cw: insecurity

a/n: i havent written something like this in a while and i really missed it!

Ushijima Wakatoshi was not emotionless.

Simple, but not emotionless.

It was something that had to be constantly reminded before people began to truly believe he didn’t feel anything. He’s had his many licks with emotion, as anyone else would. The joy of finding the one thing he truly loved doing; volleyball. The confusion when his mother began reprimanding him for using his left hand. The overwhelming helplessness when his father walked out the door.

Butterflies when you smiled at him in the hallway, the heat in his cheeks when he saw you in the stands at one of his games. The shake in his hands when he met you at the gates and told you his feelings, very detailed in facts.

Ushijima Wakatoshi was clearly not emotionless.

So why was it he seemed so indifferent to you?

You knew he had to feel something for you, people don't empty their entire heart just because they felt like it, at least you hoped. Of course, as much as he denied, you knew that you would be on par if not second to volleyball. In a sick way; you were fine with it as long as he came back to you and let you share some of his burdens, you were happy.

But as of recently, it seemed that he couldn’t even do that.

Gone were the nights he would fall into your arms outside the gym doors because he’s been practicing for five hours straight. The walks in the park when neither of you could sleep, ones that ended in his arms on the couch watching some random food network show.

So now, as you leone the couch, void of the warmth you so desperately crave; you can't help but wonder if it was only you who felt the distance between you.

Your door unlocked- just as you thought it would. Your boyfriend slipping through the door, eyes immediately finding your body draped over the end of the sofa. He could still see the dinner you had made, glazing over the dirty dishes, proof he was hours behind when he said he’d be here.

“Tosh? Is there any way we can spend more time together? It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done something.”

“No. Nationals is arriving soon, I cannot do anything about my schedule. We are spending time together right now.”

If Ushijima was not emotionless; how was it so easy for him to dismiss you?

Did you and Tendou always have a Wednesday movie night?

Ushijima raked his mind for the last time he’d seen this; the last time he was in his dorm on a weeknight. He knew you and the redhead were good friends, close since the first year of high school. He remembered something about a sleepover before you had begun dating and the occasional dinner at some fast-food restaurant.

He understood both your and his love for anime, and the movies alongside. But if he hadn’t known any better, he would assume that it was to two of you dating, not yourself and him.

Clearing his throat, you both glanced from your spot, huddled on the couch, inviting him to sit beside you. It was nice, though he knew nothing about what was happening on screen, something about demons and a little girl along with a boy with boar head overtop his.

The second the credits rolled, you and Tendou engaged in a conversation that he couldn’t even begin to understand. Somehow ending in another plan to go out the next night for a store opening that will have a manga that you both like.

Finally, as Tendou left, you noticed how silent your boyfriend had been since getting there.

“Would you like to come with us, Toshi?” Would he? The ice in his eyes held the answer far before he spoke.

“No. I will be practicing.”

The statement seemed like nothing. A simple retort you’ve heard so many times you could predict what he was going to say before he did. The phrase forced the memories of laying alone on the couch and sitting at restaurants staring at the clock for what felt like-- and really was-- hours a night.

You could count o one hand how many dates that he’s been early too, or even stayed the whole time. That’s even when he accepted your invitation.

Your friend had warned you that you would feel like this, abandoned and thrown to the side. ‘Why do you stay? Clearly, he isn’t treating you right, o find someone who will!’

“Just for a little? We haven’t been out for a while.” you plea, noticing how he was ready to walk away.it felt like ages since you’ve had an actual conversation.

“Y/n, don’t start right now. I am tired, and I have already told you that I am busy. Quite pestering.” pestering? Is that what you meant to him, were you a bother?

Tendou had always reminded you that Wakatoshi wasn’t good at feelings. He didn’t know how to put what he felt into words. You accepted that, you understood that emotions can be harder on some people.

But now, it wasn’t just feeling an word, it was actions. It was the missed dates he never apologized for, the charging past you after practice that he stayed overtime for. It was him turning his back on you before you could respond.

As you turn your eyes catch one of the photos you have taped to your wall, a selfie you and him took during a trip to Harajuku in May. You bought matching bracelets both with small flower charms on each, ‘a symbol of eternal love’, yeah right.

‘If you’re the only one putting in effort, it’s not a relationship, it’s desperation’

Ushijima Wakaothish may not have emotions, but he surely had one.

Jealousy.

Green and far too ugly to acknowledge.

He may not understand the butterflies when you smile or the warms when your hand locks with his, but he knows exactly what the burning in his veins is. The furrow in his brown and deeper frown than normal, he’s jealous, extremely at that.

A fact that anyone who looked at the man could see, his aura radiated exactly what he was feeling, a true sight to behold.

His mind was muddled, what right did Oikawa have to even share the same breath as you, never mind put a hand on you. His mind ran through all of the things he could possibly do right there, he could punch the brown-eye playboy, but then he would be in trouble.

He could make a big scene and yell at him, or he could do nothing, just watch as the Seijoh playing steals your attention. Suddenly he’s thrown into memory, Reon and you chatting at the lunch table. Like you’d been friends for years, the smile that was supposed to only be meant for him plastered on your face.

Then it was Goshiki and his blistered hands that you so dutifully wrapped for him, holding his hand so tenderly that Wakatoshi wondered if it felt like when you held hands with him.

Then to Tendou, your pro-claimed cuddle buddy.

Would it even be worth it to stop Oikawa? Has he already lost you to someone else?

He couldn’t let that happen, not when he still had a chance to keep you.

You were violently ripped from whatever stupid pick-up line Oikawa was spouting by two hands on your hips. Your entire body was pulled into a hard chest as the same two arms cradle you to his.

“Waka-”

“Don’t talk to what’s mine, Oikawa”

You’ve never heard him sound so angry, he practically snarled at the setter, turning the both of you and walking down the hallway to the ext before the brown-haired man ould even retort.

“Toshi are you-”

“Please don't leave me.” Another emotion you’ve never seen from the man, fear.

He was acred, losing you was the end of the world for him. What was he supposed to do if you aren’t there for him? Who will he look at in the crowd to keep him going during the fifth set? There is simply no one that can give him the rush you can.

“I know I’ve been bad, and I’m so so sorry. I can make up for the dates and we can go to the manga store and to dinner whenever you want. We can watch movies after practice and cuddle whenever! Just please don’t leave me for Oikawa!” he pleaded, taking your hands to his, holding you so tightly and yet like you were glass.

“Wakatoshi, I’m not leaving you. Please calm down, I’m not going anywhere.” You move your hands to cup his face, finally taking notice of the tears looming in his eyes.

And you smiled. The smile just for him, taking his head onto your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. His hands rubbing along the length of your back.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I won’t let you.”

tags: @bakugos-cumsock @rinsangel

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima angst #ushijima x reader angst #ushijima wakatoshi x readder #ushijima wakatoshi x reader angst #oikawa tooru #oikawa angst #oikawa x reader #oikawa x reader angst #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader angst #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x self insert

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personasintro · 4 years ago

Text

drunk over sober | ksj drabble

⇢ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; getting through the evening in his presence calls for help and that's why you decide to reach for one thing that could possibly get you through it, or maybe it helps you in a whole another way

⇢ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst (?), fluff, enemies to lovers au

⇢ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language

⇢ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 4.5k+

𝒂/𝒏: commissioned by @xxxjkxux, hope you like this! x

drunk over sober | sober now

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ☕️ | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

What did you do in your past life to deserve this? To deserve such an overly confident, snarky, cocky bastard to be in your life. Why couldn't your friends find a nice human being that is polite, friendly and modest? Not… him.

And the fact everyone is so okay with him acting like he owns everything just makes your blood boil even more. Why the hell did you even agree to come here in the first place? Oh yeah, because one of your friends Jimin, assured you he won't be here. But rather than be mad at Jimin for lying to you because well, your worst enemy – the epitome of evil is right here, you're actually more mad at his presence.

Or maybe because he's enjoying this night to the fullest, even has the decency to lift up his glass of wine at you as he cockily quirks up one of his brows and sends a smirk your way. You gape at him like a fish, features twisting to a deep scowl and a glare. But he looks even more amused at your obvious anger, living for it.

“Y'know, this glaring at him won't do anything.”

The melodic voice resounds next to you, your eyes moving from the devil himself to your friend who's looking at Seokjin amusingly before he looks at you with the same amused eyes. That's great! Even he's enjoying this. Are you the only one being miserable? Maybe you should leave this bar, leave the group of your friends to maybe open a bottle of wine for yourself.

“Don't talk to me,” you grit, trying to appear intimidating but it only makes Jimin chuckle which makes your brow twitch in irritation. “You lied to me. You told me he won't be here tonight.”

“I didn't lie,” Jimin clarifies, “He wasn't supposed to come but decided to tag along at the last minute.”

“Of course, he did,” you roll your eyes. “He likes to make my life miserable.”

Now it's Jimin's turn to roll his eyes, finding the hatred between you two pathetic and childish. You don't even know how it started. Seokjin always made you irritated from the moment you met him. You don't like overly confident men, thinking they can do anything and act however they like. Then he started to make fun of you, throwing snarky remarks your way ever since he noticed the way you clearly wasn't very fond of his presence. And it quickly turns into bickering whenever the two of you are in the same room.

He has already managed to comment on your outfit the second he saw you.

“This is not your grandma's funeral, Y/N.”

How dare he bring your poor grandma into this? You know he did that just to annoy you, that doesn't make it okay.

To be fair, you did tell him something back. “Oh really? Says the man who's wearing his dad's clothes.”

It's certain you made your friends laugh, both of you did. They always have fun whenever it comes down to your bickering. Seokjin didn't even look offended by your comment, just smirked your way as he gulped down more wine. That pisses you even more. He barely shows annoyance or any negative reaction. He always remains calm, amused and cocky. It pisses you off.

And of course, he doesn't look as if he's wearing his dad's clothes. He looks far from it. He might be close to his thirties, but he looks amazing. But surely, he knows that. Everyone knows that – even you. But you'd rather have your arm cut off than to admit it out loud.

“You both are freaking stubborn. Whatever the two of you have going on, you need to sort it out.”

“Sort it out,” you scoff, “As if that's possible.”

“It is,” Jimin says, a grin making its way to his lips. “I feel a certain tension here.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you while you frown, glaring at him for a moment before you let his words sink in and you realize what he's hinting at.

“Oh, fuck no!” you exclaim, wanting nothing else than to punch him for even mentioning that but you know you'd feel awful later. “Y'know what? I won't let him get to me. I'm gonna have fun.” you say lightly, your tone awfully fake but you go along with it as you gulp the rest of your wine.

“Now, I'm gonna get some more.” you inform him, Jimin's mouth is opening.

“That's not what I--”

But you're already gone, making your way towards the bar to order more wine but not before you brush past Seokjin giving him the nastiest glare. However, it only makes him chuckle, turning around for a moment to look at you amusingly as he's met with your back and swaying ass.

You usually make good decisions.

You always think through things because usually, you're a responsible person.

Usually – that's the key word because you're certainly not proving yourself to make good decisions. As much as you'd like to blame it on Suckjin (yes, because he really sucks), it's your own fault for deciding that drinking might be the best idea for how to get through the night. Part of you wanted to leave as soon as you saw his dumb and handsome face but you haven't seen your friends for two weeks and you wouldn't give him that satisfaction to show him how much his presence affects you. Or more like it annoys you.

Who are you kidding. He certainly affects you more than you'd like to admit, if he didn't – you wouldn't keep ordering wine (and probably going bankrupt because you'd save a lot of money by buying a whole bottle of wine, rather than buying one glass every ten to fifteen minutes). However, you're in a bar and it's quite obvious you pay more than you'd if you just bottle an alcohol from a convenience store.

Also, if he wouldn't affect you that much you'd listen to your friends' worries and advice to slow down. You did the right opposite. You feel like you started ordering even more frequently.

But most importantly, if he wasn't affecting you, you certainly wouldn't throw up into the toilet of the ladies restroom.

And the fact you embarrassed yourself in front of (not just your friends) but also everyone in a bar while running to the ladies with a hand over your mouth, to keep the vomit inside until you're free to let it out.

Oh, fuck so fucking embarrassing.

Your knees ache as you hug the toilet, not caring about possible bacterias laying on the toilet seat. If you were sober, you'd actually be so disgusting.

When one of your female friends comes to check on you, you rasp out that you're okay and will be out in a few minutes. You weren't.

You've been here for god knows how long but considering how many women already went to use the restroom, you must've been here for quite some time. Luckily, you stayed quiet and didn't throw up while anyone else was here.

Your stomach is uncomfortably clenched reminding you that you're about to have a wild awakening in the morning full of regret, you know you emptied everything in your stomach. You've a weird sour taste in your mouth, causing you to groan disgustedly at yourself. Once you flush the toilet for like the fifth time by now, you get the courage to walk out and check your appearance in the mirror.

You look awful. You also feel like it.

You rinse your mouth a few times, feeling lucky that no one has decided to come here to see your head in a sink while spitting out the water to get rid of that awful taste of vomits in your mouth. Your make-up is slightly smudged but it's actually not that awful once you wipe your undereyes and the smudged mascara there.

Once you're ready, knowing you've to walk out of those doors to face the others (and by that, you don't just mean your friends but also everyone that witnessed you clearly ready to throw up), you brace yourself and open the door.

You're startled to be met with Seokjin leaning against the wall, standing there just on the opposite side of you as your eyes meet right away. He sighs, awfully similar to sighing in relief, as he takes your appearance and eyes you up and down.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, straightening himself.

“Like shit,” you answer honestly, grabbing the side of your throbbing head. “I think I'm still drunk.” you tell him, stumbling when a woman makes her way towards the restroom and you've to move to let her in since you've been standing right in front of the door.

Seokjin stretches his arms towards you, getting a faint hold of your wrists. HIs brows are furrowed while he stares at you.

“Come on, let's get you home.” he says, taking a few steps closer to you as you glare at him.

“You?” Is the only thing you let out of your mouth, ready to resist but Seokjin holds you close since you seem to have barely any balance.

You might've thrown up everything in your stomach, but your head throbs and you're still very much drunk.

“Yes,” he answers simply, “Everyone else went home. I told them I'd get you home safely.”

You scoff, not believing your friends. So, they just left you here? With him? They know you don't like him! The hell, you hate him! They know all of it and yet, they left you here with him.

Little do you know, Seokjin promised to take care of you. He was met with a few skeptical stares from your friends but Jimin assured them it's okay. The smirk Jimin gave Seokjin just as he was walking out of the bar didn't go unnoticed by him.

And here he is. Has been waiting for half an hour for you. He did get worried, wondering if you hadn't passed out on the floor or something and had this urge to just walk into the ladies restroom, knowing that might've got him kicked out of this bar.

Luckily, you walked out of there before he really decided to do it.

As much as you hate Seokjin, and doing a stupid decision, you know the smartest option for you is to just go with him. It's dangerous to go alone and even though you want to prove to him you don't need him or his help, you kind of do and it definitely helps to get you home safely, just like he promised to you and his friends.

So you huff under your breath, brushing past him but saying nothing in return but you know he's right behind you, feeling his presence following you out of a bar.

“Oh shit, I haven't paid for my drinks.” you exclaim once you make it outside.

Thank god, no one stared at you while walking out of a bar. You already feel embarrassed as it is.

“I took care of it,” Seokjin tells you, phone attached to his ear as he ignores your suspicious eyes and calls a cab for the two of you.

You groan, feeling your legs getting weak so you sit on a curb, hugging your arms as you feel a chilly breeze on your exposed arms.

After he makes the call, hanging up with a polite “Thank you, we'll be waiting”, he's joining you and sitting beside you as you eye him suspiciously again.

He probably feels your eyes on him, but he stares ahead watching cars passing by.

“Why would you pay for me?” you ask, voice drowsy as you keep your tired eyes on him.

He turns his head to you, staring at you for a moment as he lets out a chuckle. “I expect you to pay me back. I'm no charity.” he scoffs causing you to scoff back.

“Don't worry,” you murmur, feeling angry for some reason even though of course, you'd pay him back. You wouldn't let him pay for such an expensive wine, or even if it was a cheap one, just so he could use it one day against you. You don't need his money.

But deep down, you're glad he took care of it so you could just walk out of the bar and not spend any longer in it than necessarily. What you're angry about is the way he reacted. And here you thought he's being weird by the whole taking care of you thing. He's still the same idiot.

Your thoughts are cut off by him taking off his suit and throwing it over your small figure. You instantly feel the heat from it, knowing it's his body that made it warm. You open your mouth, staring at him surprisingly as he chuckles at your reaction.

“Well, don't look at me so surprised.”

“I am surprised,” you point out, “Thanks though.”

“What? I didn't hear you?”

You look at him again, opening your mouth but once you see the corner of his mouth twitching, you know he heard you and is just making you say it again.

“Your mistake.” you huff.

You don't know for how long you sit there waiting for the cab, but you feel yourself getting more and more tired, looking for a place to lean your head against which happens to be Seokjin's shoulder. You're too out of it to check out his reaction or realize what you just did.

His shoulder feels nice. The one you kept making fun of him, actually you made fun of both of his shoulders. Suddenly, you start feeling guilty for it and you blame you being drunk for it because you're already opening your mouth.

“I'm sorry for making fun of your shoulders,” you mutter, yawning sleepily. “They feel nice.”

Seokjin laughs, actually it's something between a laugh and a chuckle but he finds your confession and apology funny nevertheless.

“I know you secretly love them.” he teases you, causing you to groan in response. Oh god, you're so out of it.

“I hate you secretly.” you inform him, causing him to snicker.

“It's not that big of a secret.” he points out, making you chuckle for some reason. He's right. It's quite obvious.

“You hate me too, don't make me feel guilty.”

“I don't hate you,” he tells you, sounding serious for a second before he chuckles. “You just can't take some teasing.”

You lift your head up quickly, groaning when you feel it spin as your vision gets blurry. You glare at Seokjin, seeing double – two Seokjins – but you glare at him nevertheless.

“Teasing?” you exclaim, “That's not teasing! That's pissing me off and you know it.” you snap but lay your head back when it starts to hurt even more. He lets you, scoffing a little.

And he stays quiet, letting the distant sounds of cars and people chatting that walk past you be the only sound between you two. You're on a verge of actually falling asleep, closing your eyes for the first time since fighting the urge to close them since you laid your head on Seokjin's shoulder.

But yet again, Seokjin manages to open his mouth again and for some reason, you're not as annoyed as you'd normally be.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

It's so random, you don't get why he's asking you this but you're also very drunk to put too much thought into it.

You let his question linger in the air and in your mind, pursing your lips slightly in a silent thought before you come up with a quite sober answer. “I think everyone is in your life for a reason.”

“Oh, so I'm in your life for a reason.” he teases you and if you looked up at him, you'd see him wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, to piss me off apparently.” you tell him, getting to hear a breathy laugh from him.

“You piss me off too,” he says, sounding both amusing and accusing at the same time. Maybe even offended too. “But I like you.” he admits.

It's like a slap to your face and thanks to your drunkenness, it takes a while to fully understand his words but once you do, you whip your head in his direction while looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You what?”

“Come on, isn't it obvious?” he laughs almost bitterly, but keeps his tone light and even when he looks at you with his dark brown eyes, you see nothing but softness in them.

Okay, you're really drunk.

“Do you think I'd take care of you, borrowed you my suit to keep you warm and waited in front of the restroom for half an hour just because I hate you?”

You're speechless, not fully realizing that Kim Seokjin, the Kim Seokjin that makes fun of you whenever you're around, just confessed that he doesn't hate you. And admitted verbally and loudly what he's done for you so far. Even though you didn't ask for it, you know deep down you appreciate it.

“I don't understand…” you mumble, “What about all the teasing and annoying me?”

“It's just teasing, it's not my fault you can't take a joke.” he snorts, causing you to send him a glare. It's just a small confirmation that yes, he still acts like a dick but the difference is, that you're not overly mad over it and don't want to slap his handsome face.

“You and I have a different concept of a joke,” you scoff, “I don't like those jokes.”

“Alright, no more teasing and jokes,” he says, causing you to raise your brows at him lazily. You don't believe him. “Don't look at me like that, I'm serious. And just a reminder, you haven't been going easy on me too. I'm just lucky I have thick skin and can take a joke.”

You want to have some smartass response, to say something back about how he's making it seem like you're some kind of a prude that can't joke around, because you can. You're quite a fun person to be around. He just doesn't know that side of you because you just straightass go into an attack mode whenever he is around.

And as your drunk mind thinks about it, you do feel an obvious guilt slowly building but you're too drunk to fully tell him what you think. But you try your best, muttering the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I'm sorry to joke about your shoulders,” you almost whisper, pouting. “I like them. They're comfy. At least this left is.”

That's right, you've been leaning on his left shoulder only.

Seokjin snorts at that before he erupts laughing, causing you to cringe at the loud sound close to your ear but you find yourself smiling. He catches the sight of your smile, his laugh slowly dying as he keeps his lips stretched into a similar one.

“I can assure you my right shoulder is just as comfortable,” he remarks, causing you to snort as you nod at him. “I don't know what's up with you and my shoulders. You said far more mean things about my own personality than my appearance.”

You cringe at that, feeling the guilt even more. Perhaps it's the tone in his voice that makes you think that you making fun of his personality rather than appearance somehow affected him too.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur, hiding your face back in his shoulder once he looks at you, chuckling as you not so sneakily hide your shy face. “You said mean things to me too.”

“I'm sorry,” he says back, louder and more confident than when you said it. “I think we both have something to feel guilty about.”

You just nod, muttering something about how long it's taking for the cab to arrive. Seokjin is not sure if you did it to change the topic purposely, or you're just so drunk that you mind drifts elsewhere. Nevertheless, he coaxes you to stand up as he helps you, not minding the way your body practically stumbles into his in the middle of it. He has a tight grip on you, tucking a few restless strands of your hair behind your ear. Yeah, he commented that too. Something about how having your hair in a bun makes you look like you're in a job meeting rather than hanging out with your friends in a bar.

He cringes at that, having the need to apologize for that but you seem distracted by something else and that something else happens to be his lips. You're shameless, maybe you don't realize that you're staring and that he obviously sees you… but you just keep staring.

“I'm sure I made fun of your lips too.” you drunkenly murmur, causing Seokjin to breathe out a chuckle.

“You did.” he confirms your suspicion, causing you to sigh.

“I like them.” you tell him honestly, eyes lazily closing and smile stretching to the same lazy and drunk smile. And you bluntly reach towards them, your point finger tracing the bottom lip.

Seokjin feels the tip of his ears heating up, wondering how it must look like to someone that just walks by. You're in front of a bar with you drunk while tracing his lips as if it's the most normal and common thing ever.

“You know,” Seokjin starts, your finger no longer in front of his mouth. “I think I prefer you drunk over sober.”

That makes you snort, chuckling slightly as you lean towards him and bump your forehead into his chest. Wow, it's hard. You stay like that, trying to ignore the throb in your head.

“I think I prefer you when I'm drunk than when I'm sober.” you admit, causing him to laugh, hands respectfully on your back as you keep swaying slightly.

Suddenly, you've this urge to look at him because god knows if you'll ever have that opportunity. So you do, finding him already looking at you.

“But I wish you were sober now, though.” he admits too, your brows furrowing in a confusion for a moment.

“Why?”

“So I could kiss you.” he bluntly responds, your eyes widening and for a moment, you feel like you sobered up. That's not true, though. You just feel like it.

“You--you want to kiss… me?” you point at yourself, wondering if this is some kind of sick joke of his, so he can laugh about it later.

But he looks honest, staring at you with a deep glance. It makes you swallow dryly.

“Yeah,” he nods, “But you're drunk. And I don't want to take advantage of that.”

You stare at him cutely, your lips pouting without you even realizing and your pupils are big and waiting, causing him to grab your face gently. He traces his thumb over your lips, similar to what you did just a few minutes ago while tracing his own plush lips.

You called him Kylie Jenner look-alike if you remember correctly. God, you were such a bitch.

You like his lips.

“I'm not that drunk,” you stupidly protest, causing Seokjin's brows to raise in shock from your sudden interest in him kissing you. But he quickly shakes himself out of it and chuckles at your eagerness.

“How about a compromise?” he asks, catching your interest as you nod without thinking of it.

It's until he leans towards you, face just a few inches from yours. You can feel the heat coming off his breath, warming your face while your heart seems to be the only thing sober and awake.

His lips are so close, he is so close. You can smell his incredible and expensive cologne making you almost whimper in his direction but before he can take another inch closer to you, you realize something and panic.

“Wait, wait!” you exclaim, catching him off guard as he stares at you surprised while pulling away slightly, giving you some space as your hand is already on your mouth.

Are you about to throw up? Oh fuck, he'd be so embarrassed if you throw up at the idea of him kissing you.

“I threw up!” you inform him which makes him snort because he obviously knows that.

He heard weird noises that undoubtedly came from you while he was waiting for you.

But he doesn't tell you that to not make you embarrassed. He's not that big of a dick, even if you think he maybe is.

“But I rinsed my mouth!” you quickly jump to say, not wanting him to think like you stink or something. You made sure your mouth doesn't smell like vomits. The thought of him kissing you while you threw up just twenty minutes ago makes you want to throw up again. In your defense, you did rinse your mouth a lot and you no longer can smell or taste vomits in your mouth.

He chuckles, eyes scrunched as he inches closer to you and you almost protest (because just in case, you'd die of embarrassment) but you're taken aback when his lips find your forehead instead of your lips. He gives you a soft kiss there, smiling down at you as you gape at him with an open mouth.

This is the compromise he talked about, but you're too drunk to realize that.

“Come on, the cab is here.” he says, taking your hand in his as he leads you to a cab.

Once you both sit there, you give the cab driver your address before you allow yourself to finally relax and feel something soft under your butt rather than a hard pavement. You're not too shy to scoot closer to Seokjin, even though you've been glued to him from the moment you made it into the cab. You let your head rest over his right shoulder this time, commenting that it's comfortable too that makes him laugh.

It's the last thing he hears from you because he soon realizes you fell asleep, cuddling up to him. He's not sure if he'll be able to wake you up once you make it to your apartment building and he has no plans trying to get into your purse, so he sighs and tells the driver to drive you to his apartment instead. It's not far from yours anyway and the cab driver is more than happy to charge him for it.

But he doesn't care about money. If he did, he wouldn't pay that much money over the wine you drank and threw up all of it in the same day.

He wasn't joking when he said he wants you to pay back, but maybe now, he'll live without you paying him back. He can think of it as if it's redemption by burying the hatchet.

And as he glances at your peaceful sleeping figure that still is very much glued to his warm body, he knows it might be just worth it.

He just hopes you won't kill him in the morning once you find out you're at his place. And maybe, just maybe, he hopes a lot that you'll remember everything in the morning.

#networkbangtan #ficswithluv #bts smut #bts au #bts angst #bts fluff #seokjin x reader #bts enemies to lovers #seokjin scenario #seokjin fanfic #personasintro

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littleredwing89 · 4 years ago

Text

AGENT OF CHAOS - PART THREE

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

Warnings – Language. Kidnapping. Stalking. Mild Violence. Angst. Hurt.

Word Count: 4,870

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone, sorry for the little delay, I was working on a few of the actions scenes to ensure they were good. I really hope you all like this xoxo

~~~

It had been almost a month. Every lead turned into a dead end. Nothing. Much like the Joker himself, no one knew a thing. The whole thing was tearing Jason apart. He’d barely slept. He’d maybe had 3 hours per night. If that, and he was convinced the only reason he got sleep was because Bruce had slipped him something in his coffee.

The fourth cassette tape came with a dead yellow rose and a rotten apple. He pushed play on the recorder and swallowed thickly as the grainy camera zoomed in on your face. You looked pale. Your cheeks looked hollow and your once colourful eyes looked gaunt. Haunted.

“Well Jason, I’m a man of my word...I’ve been looking after her so good”, Joker laughed hysterically and smoothed his hand down your cheek, smacking it lightly. The slap caused you to jolt in the chair. A sharp gasp flew out of your chapped lips.

Jason felt Bruce’s hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. The notion sent a brief wave of calm through Jason. Maybe this was how Bruce felt all those years ago...when he received similar tape of ..of himself. Jason turned back to the screen and focused his eyes. Searching for a clue. Anything. Something to bring you back to him.

“She’s been such a good little princess bird boy...she’s done everything I asked...and more”, Joker whistled happily as he tapped your nose with a wicked smile. Jason felt his heart stop and looked directly into your eyes through the screen. Good he wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go.

The tape skipped and replayed the same thing back, “...and more”. It skipped again, “...and more”. Jason growled and the tape paused before going completely black.

His fist smashed into the computer keyboard, pieces of black plastic scattering across the desk. Jason released a loud sobbing noise and sank to the cold stone floor of the bat cave. His eyes scrunched shut tightly, imagining you were in front of him. Giving him that silly smile you always did when you first woke up. It was one of his favourite smiles. You had hundreds of different types of smiles. The one you gave him when he hugged you randomly. The one you’d give him when he told you a stupid joke. The one you’d show him when you were both standing down one of the grocery aisles for no reason at all.

“Jason...son - we will find her - I promise you”, Bruce’s deep voice shattered Jason’s illusion of you in his mind.

“It’s been so long...what if-”, Jason ran a hand over his face. The stubble was longer, causing him to itch.

“Don’t”, Bruce warned, “don’t think like that. We will find her”.

~~~

The last cassette tape Jason received was covered in a dark, red sticky substance. Jason knew what it was but he didn’t know if it was yours. Before Jason could even think about playing it, Bruce had prized it from his fingers.

“Jason we need to analyse the blood, it might give us a clue”, his voice was stable and deep. He attempted to reassure Jason with a firm grip to the shoulder but it did nothing. Jason felt empty without you.

“We need to watch-”, Jason started but was interrupted by Bruce.

“No, I’ll watch it. You need to get some sleep, let me do this Jason. Please”, Bruce pleaded desperately, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours”.

Jason laughed but it was hollow and sharp, “You really think I can sleep knowing she’s stuck with that fucking psycho?!”.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Jason I know you want to get Y/N back”, he placed the cassette onto a high tech scanning machine, it bleeped repeatedly as it scanned over the material, “But we all need to be working together and that means recharging our batteries”.

Jason scoffed and pushed past Bruce looking over the computer scanner typing something into the system, “So you’re telling me you went and had an eight hour sleep when Joker caught me?”.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “Jason”.

“JUST STOP!!”, Jason's voice cracked as he shouted and for a moment, he sounded like the broken man in the abandoned shopping mall that long Halloween night many years ago.

“I-I need to do this Bruce. I-I have to, for Y/N”, his voice was scratchy and raw.

Bruce simply nodded and turned around. He extracted the cassette from the blood stained cloth and pushed it into the player to the right. Bruce took a secondary glance to Jason, giving him one last option but Jason just stared at the screen, waiting to see what the tape would show.

The second the tape played, the batcave was filled with your screams. They sounded broken and dry. Jason’s heart shattered. The shards stabbing him painfully. As you came into view on the camera, your long h/c hair was matted and stuck to your face. Blood staining it a deep red.

The Joker came into the view of the camera and smiled wide, his teeth showing.

“Jason, I see why you’re so attached to this woman, she’s very fiery...her spirit is impenetrable”.

A flicker of evil flew through his eyes at that word and a sick smile slid onto his lips, “but that’s fine. I’m sure I can find more penetrable spots”.

You tug harshly at your binds as he turned and came closer to you, a small blade held in his gloves hand.

“Hold still princess or I might accidentally cut an important part of you...or slit something”.

The blade cut the straps of your top, and the material fluttered down uselessly to the floor, exposing your padded black bra. The Joker whistled appreciatively and winked back at the camera.

“I say Jason...maybe I’m missing out not having a significant other...especially when they’re as beautiful as this”.

Jason had edged so close to the screen Bruce had to pull him back. Tears were running hotly down his cheeks and he swore he tasted blood from biting down on his bottom lip.

Your voice echoed through the empty warehouse room and through the camera speakers, “GO FUCK YOURSELF”.

The Joker smirked down at you and the blade was pressed against the skin of your neck.

“You should watch your manners, princesses don’t speak like that”.

You gulped and looked into his soulless eyes and laughed. It almost sounded as maniacal as his.

“I’m not your fucking princess”.

You spat at his face. Your spit mingled with blood from the earlier smack around the face.

“He’ll come for me...I know he will. And when he does, it’ll be all over for you”.

Something snapped and you saw his eyes darken. His face twisted and the scowl was demonic.

“You filthy fucking bitch!”, he roared and dropped the knife to wipe his face.

Joker turned to the camera and glowered, “I hope you’re watching Jason whilst I teach this rotten little whore some manners!”.

The first blow caused you to cry out in agony. It was harsh and fast. The sound to Jason was ear splitting. The second hit was drawn out and heavy. Designed to bruise. The third was sharp and felt like hundreds of tiny needles piercing your skin. The Joker was laughing wildly all the way through it. Never ceasing his treatment. As he swung his arm back for the fourth hit, the camera jarred and caught a window. Streams of light shone through. Jason could just about make out a sign. It was blurry.

“REWIND AND PAUSE IT BRUCE! There!!!”, he called and waited for Bruce to zoom in.

“Can you clear up that image...that looks like a road sign...”.

Bruce skipped the tape back several seconds, muting the sounds on the screen. The sounds of you getting smacked in the face shaking him to his core.

“THERE!!! LOOK!! Can you see?!”, Jason pressed his face as close as possible to the screen as Bruce paused it, the image flickered but the road sign was obvious.

ACE CHEMICALS.

Before Bruce could even react, Jason had launched himself across the cave, guns strapped to his thighs.

“Jason!”.

Jason ignored Bruce and grabbed his helmet, securing it into place whilst dropping extra magazine clips into his inner jacket pockets.

“Jason, we can’t just go in there all guns blazing. That’s what he’ll want! We have to think about this”, Bruce reasoned and moved into his path.

Huffing in annoyance, Jason’s modulator covered it easily, “I’m going to get her whether you come with me or not”.

Bruce looked stunned for a split second before softening his voice, “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you - they’re clouding your judgment Jason”.

He knew he was right, deep down. But the pressure. The torture you must have endured. Everything. It weighed down on Jason and began to suffocate him slowly. The more time he wasted, the worse it was going to be. He couldn’t do it.

“Let me get into my suit and we’ll tackle this together”.

Nodding briefly, Jason watched Bruce make his way across to the darkened corner of the cave where his suit was behind a glass panel. As Bruce pressed his palm into the wall, the biometric scanner bleeped. The case slid open slowly and Bruce began to take out the suit piece by piece. The batarangs refracted the light they caught from the computer screens.

Fuck. It was taking too long, these precious seconds. He could be half way there by now. His bike was too far away, in the garage at the front of the manor. He side eyed the batmobile and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck it”.

Taking the keys from the secret sliding panel on the desk, Jason leapt into the batmobile before starting the engine and speeding out of the cave. He swore he heard Bruce shouting, he was certain he heard several curse words too. Unlike Bruce. But it was taking too long. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t leave you. You needed him. You couldn’t wait any longer.

~~~

Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

“Come on...come on!!”, Jason cursed to himself, hitting the steering wheel in fury. All the money Bruce had and it wouldn’t go any faster? He took a sharp turn heading towards the abandoned warehouse behind ACE Chemicals. He was so close. So much closer to reaching you. He’d deal with Bruce later. He couldn’t have waited any longer. Bruce would just have to get over him ‘borrowing’ the batmobile.

Swerving another corner and narrowly dodging the underpass columns, he pulled up in front of the derelict building. Almost all of the windows were smashed and hued green with mould. Maybe some of the toxins spewed from the factory had helped taint the glass further.

Grabbing both of his pistols, Jason left the car and headed towards the building fire escape. He could hear voices chattering.

“Joker said to keep an eye out for Batman”.

A goon; Jason noted peering around the brick wall spotting two of them. He noticed the metal railings above them creaking slightly in the strong winds.

“It’s been over a month now and there’s been no sign of any of the Bat freaks, it’s fine, let’s go grab a beer. He won’t even notice”, a second one encouraged the other smirking.

“You really want to cross him? He’s fucking nuts. I’m surprised the girl has even lasted this long with him, you know what he’s like”.

Jason’s fist tightened around one of his guns at the mention of you. It had to be you. Silently firing his grapple gun, he flew up the side of the building and made his way towards the goons.

“Trust me”, the first one spoke again, “He won’t even realise we’re gone, plus we might find some chicks to-”.

Perching on the railings above them, Jason leapt down cracking the base of his pistols onto one of their heads.

“Pleasure to meet you both”, Jason kicked out at the second goon hearing the sick crack of his ankle snapping.

Spinning on his heel, Jason grabbed the other goon and threw him face first into the brick wall knocking him unconscious immediately before turning back to the other man on the floor whimpering in pain.

“Where is she?”, Jason’s voice was strained even with the modulator protecting him.

The man refused to answer, dragging himself away from Jason with his hands, mud covering his palms.

Taking a large step, Jason reached the man on the floor and purposely stood onto his swollen ankle before aiming the cocked pistol towards his skull.

“I won’t ask again, where is she?”.

The screech from the man was deafening as Jason applied a hefty amount of pressure to his fractured bone.

“Basement!! She’s in the basement!! Please!!”, he begged as his eyes flickered nervously to the gun.

Jason rolled his shoulders before smashing the hilt of his pistol into his skull knocking him out cold. He turned back towards the fire escape and grappled back up to the roof. He’d have to make his way through the building to get to the basement. To you. And if he knew Joker, he wouldn’t have made it that easy. The two idiots on the front door were a sick joke. Tormenting Jason. Getting you back wouldn’t be an easy task.

~~~

Silently dropping through the window on top of the building, Jason landed onto one of the rusty steel girders. It was dark but his helmet adjusted the night vision so he could see clearly. Several goons patrolling an old foreman’s office in the centre. You had to be in there. He needed to take these idiots out quietly before getting to you.

Swinging across to the next rafter, Jason looked down at the first unsuspecting moron. With the stealth of a panther, he landed silently behind the goon before wrapping his arm around his meaty neck. He struggled against the iron grip of Jason’s forearm but the pressure only intensified the more he thrashed. Eventually the squirming stopped and the goon fell limp in his arms. Jason dragged him across to a darkened corner and dumped him behind some barrels.

As he grappled back up to roof beams, he looked down across at the two henchmen digging out a packet of cigarettes. The idiots had left their guns resting against the far wall. Jason had to chuckle to himself, Joker really was hiring morons. Weren’t these guys supposed to be protection?

Jason creeped across the rafters towards the two men and grabbed both of his pistols. He had to be silent. He couldn’t alert Joker to his presence.

“This is my last smoke”, one complained bitterly as the cigarette perched between his thin lips.

“I’ll get the next packet, quit your whining”, the second growled and patted his jacket for a lighter, “Fuck, where did I put my lighter?”.

“You’re a fucking moron. You asked to come for a smoke and you don’t even have a light!!”.

Now was his chance. Jason landed between them both, his boots thudding as he hit the concrete floor, “You know, smoking is bad for your health”. Before either of the goons could react, Jason lifted his elbow into the larger man's throat before smashing his pistol into the other man's temple, causing him to drop onto his knees. He slipped his guns back into his holsters quickly before turning to the other goon. He dodged the larger man’s grapple before twisting with ease and kicking out his kneecap. The man gasped but the elbow to his throat had killed off his voice.

Jason threw a heavy right hook into the larger man's nose and watched the blood trickle down his face. This seemed to only infuriate him more and he launched himself towards Jason viciously. Gripping both of his arms, Jason flipped the man over his body and slammed him into the floor hard before hammering punch after punch to his face, knocking him unconscious.

He turned quickly to the other man who was scrambling on his knees for the gun resting against the far wall.

“Sorry bud, but that can’t happen”, Jason grunted and landed a heavy kick to the goons stomach. The man yelped but it was quickly cut off by Jason as he slammed his boot into his face. He dropped onto the floor instantly.

Jason panted heavily and looked around the room, his helmet advising him of one more goon loitering around the door of the office. Looking down at the floor he noticed the floor grates wrapped around the room and more importantly under the henchmen’s feet. Perfect.

He lifted one of the grate coverings quietly and slipped under the flooring. He crouched down and edged around the room. The last goon was much larger and bulkier, with a machine gun strapped around his wide chest.

This goon seemed smarter than the others. Looking around and even checking up in the rafters. He grunted and pressed a button on his jacket, “No boss, still no sign of them...nothing Sir”.

The voice that patched through sent a chill down Jason’s spine. It was a tone that would be forever cemented in his mind, a reminder of his own torment.

“If you get ANY inclination the bat or any of his costumed freaks are in the building, you tell me immediately”.

“Yes boss”.

The static of the radio crackled before cutting off completely. Jason cursed mentally. This had to be precise. Perfection. He had to disable the henchman’s radio unit. Padding over his jacket he searched for the disrupter shooter he had. It wasn’t there. Fuck. He’d fucked up in his rush and left it behind. Fuck. Bruce was right. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Then he heard it. A soft ping from above him. He knew that sound. Jason looked up from the grate and spotted Nightwing hidden in the shadows with his own disrupter. Pointed directly at the goon’s radio system.

“Thought you might need a hand”, Dick patched into Jason’s com line.

Jason growled under his breath, “Thanks”.

“Shall we take this moron out together?”.

“Yes”, Jason muttered before switching his com off and inched closer to the goon.

The second Nightwing flew down from the roof beams, Jason jumped out of the floor grate and kicked out the back of the goons knees. He cursed loudly before Nightwing’s foot landed in his face.

Jason swore he saw a tooth fly out of his mouth along with a glob of blood. He aimed several hard punches to the side of the henchman’s head whilst Nightwing disabled his gun and radio with a graceful poise.

“All this for the girl? She’s nothing but a shell”, the goon smirked across at Jason before choking at the next punch.

“Joker’s hollowed her out...she’s nothing”, he spat out.

His temper flared and his hand subconsciously reached for his pistol. Dick realised and before anything could happen, he landed an electrical ecrisma blow to the goons head, knocking him out cold. His body crashed onto the floor with a loud thump.

“Jason-”.

“Don’t”, Jason cut him off, “I’m fine”.

He took several steps towards the office door and swallowed thickly. You. You’d be in there. You’d told Joker with the last ounce of confidence left that he’d come for you. He’d never leave you. You were right. Jason would never have stopped looking. Ever.

His hand rested on the door handle, trembling only slightly. What if he was too late. What if this was just another trick?

Drawing his hand back almost as though the door had burnt him. He frowned. He couldn’t think like this. No. He had to be strong. Just like you had been in all those videos. You’d been fierce. Your spirit still pouring through to him.

Jason glared angrily at the door and took a step back before kicking it open furiously with his combat boot. The door flew open wildly and as the dust settled. He saw Joker stood in the middle of the room, a sick, satisfied smirk sat proudly on his demented face.

~~~

“Jason my boy! It’s a pleasure to see you again”, his chuckle was deep and sinister, “I see you're still hiding your face though...is that because of what I did?”. The Joker’s eyes danced with delirious joy at the memories.

“I’d have thought you’d have embraced all your scars by now Jason...”, The Joker edged forward leaving you tied up behind him.

Jason rounded The Joker, clicking a button to the side of his mask, revealing his face, his eyes hidden with the domino mask, “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, clown”.

Jason let his eyes run over you for a second. You were bruised and bloodied. Clothes torn and tattered from mistreatment. Your eyes. God. Your beautiful E/C eyes. Red raw from countless tears. Somehow you still managed to give him a smile from behind The Joker. His heart fluttered. God he’d missed your smile.

Tearing his eyes from you he looked back towards The Joker and held his pistols out at him, finger hovering over the trigger. Jason felt the burn mark on his cheek stinging all over again. Pain ever present.

“You don’t have the guts”, The Joker laughed again and walked forward pressing his forehead into the barrel of the gun.

“You wouldn’t dare pull that trigger. I’m your Ace card Jason. You can’t kill me. You want to but you can’t...something will always stop you”.

Jason felt his hand shaking slightly. Everything was throbbing in his mind.

“Even after everything I’ve done to your girl, you still can’t pull that trigger”, The Joker taunted further and grinned sadistically.

“If only you knew where I’d touched...what I’ve done...”, he pushed further into the cold metal of the gun and winked at Jason, “Go on, do it, I dare you...if you don’t- I’m just going to keep coming back and who knows what I’ll do to our little princess next-”.

BANG.

A gun shot blasted through the air. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel, dancing into the darkness around them.

“JASON!”.

Nightwing had thrown one of his ecrisma sticks to Jason’s gun, knocking it off target. The bullet shattered the brickwork behind them, dust erupting.

Crashing down through one of the broken windows on top of the office roof, Nightwing flew towards The Joker tackling him down onto the damp, concrete floor before he could launch himself at Jason.

Still startled, Jason watched Dick wrestling with The Joker on the floor, punches flying back and forth.

Dick turned to Jason, “Y/N-Jason!! Go get Y/N!! I’ll handle this!”.

The Joker was shrieking with laughter underneath Dick, blood pouring down his lip and from his nose.

“Ahhhh another boy blunder!! I must be lucky!! Two for the price of one!”.

Dick threw another punch and reached for the second ecrisma stick on his back, “I can’t wait to cart you back to the Asylum. I hope you’re looking forward to your 5 star stay in a windowless cesspit!”.

Jason could hear Joker continually laughing at Dick, until the sharp sound of electrical buzzing cut him off with a loud scream.

He almost fell over his own feet as he raced towards you. Jason quickly untied your hands and the second they were free you flung them around his neck, sobbing into his neck. Your tears dropping onto his brown leather jacket.

“Oh baby”, Jason stroked your hair and held you tightly to him. He was worried he was crushing you but you seemed to be squeezing him back just as hard.

You didn’t stop sobbing. The overwhelming emotion of being wrapped in his safe, strong arms make your knees buckle. Jason caught you with ease and lifted you up, “It’s ok baby, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”.

Jason was one step away from breaking down himself but he needed to be strong for you right now.

You pressed your skin against his, the scratch of his stubble a welcome sting against your cheek. His scent overwhelmed you. Leather. Gunpowder. Smoke. And something distinct you’d never been able to place.

“Jason”.

“Shhh, it’s ok - nothing is going to hurt you, I’m here now - I’m a bit late but I’m here”.

~~~

It had been one week since you’d been back home. Two weeks if you counted the first week you and Jason spent holed up in the manor. Bruce had insisted. You sat in the bathtub, knees pressed up against your bare chest. Silence. All you could hear was the faint crackle of the bubbles every now and again. The clinical white tiles of the bathroom made you feel a little cleaner.

However, no matter how many baths you took, showers you stood in, you still couldn’t wipe the feel of the slick purple gloves off your skin. Your skin. Skin that was now marred with yellowish bruising. Almost faded physically but not mentally. Looking over the marks you felt yourself transported back into the desolate warehouse. The dank smell of stagnant water filling your nostrils. You choked and coughed loudly, suddenly feeling the oxygen clam up your throat. Drowning in the memories.

“Y/N??”.

Within a mere second Jason had flung open the bathroom door, red tinting his cheek and a little sweat on his forehead, “Sweetheart are you ok?”.

You noted how he chose to call you sweetheart now and not his usual princess. A stark reminder that this whole ordeal had affected him too, more than he’d admitted. You felt the guilt eat away at you. Shame burning at your feet.

“Y-yeah, I’m ok”, you mumbled quietly and swirled some of the water and bubbles around you, “I just accidentally swallowed some of the bath water, I’m sorry”.

Jason nodded although not quite believing you. He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the tub taking a deep breath, “It’s ok to not be ok sweetheart...I know it can be difficult to admit that...I know that more than most”, he wiped a stray bubble from the rim of the tub. He looked at you deeply before continuing, “I’ll be here for you...whenever and whatever you need”.

You sat silently in the water and he moved to get up. Maybe he thought it was best to leave you alone, let you uncover your own emotions. Process what had happened. You gripped his wrist and looked up into the crystal blue of his eyes, “Jason”.

“Yeah babe?”, he turned his wrist in your hand and linked his fingers with yours.

“I love you”.

He smiled and squeezed your hand before whispering back, “I love you too, more than you know”.

He looked over you and moved to sit back on the edge of the bath. His spare hand reached out and cupped your chin lovingly, stroking over your skin.

“We’ll work through this together Y/N, I promise”, Jason murmured and leaned forward kissing your forehead lightly, “I’ll do whatever you need me to do...anything at all”.

The words, the touches, the kiss. It made your heart flutter and you fell even more in love with him. Jason made the impossible possible and you had no idea how he managed it every day. You felt so lucky.

“I - I struggle some d-days”, you admitted and with those words you felt a little lighter, “sometimes all I want is for you to hold me and not let me go...Sometimes I-I f-feel like that for hours...”.

“Well then I’ll hold you for hours”, he said simply.

You scoffed lightly but before you could protest or think of arguing back he was stepping into the bath water fully clothed.

“Jay!! You’re going to flood the bathroom”, you gasped loudly, watching the water splash over the sides like dramatic tidal waves. Water dispersed all over the bathroom floor to make way for his broad frame, “What are you doing?!”.

Jason sunk down into the water behind you and wrapped his arms either side, pulling you back into his clothed chest. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there, “Holding you for as long as you need me to”.

You felt yourself melt into his warm embrace. Tears made their way down your cheeks at his endearing show of love, “Jason”.

“Shhh, just let me hold you baby”, he cuddled you tighter into him, his fingers stroking your hips under the water, brushing away the bruises. Marking you with his own special touch.

Relaxing under his soft caresses, you hummed lightly and closed your eyes resting your head back against him. He smelt like leather and spice. You felt at home. He was home.

“Jay”.

“Mmm?”.

“Please call me princess”, you whispered quietly into the air, your eyes still closed.

“Whatever you want...princess”.

~~~

Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella - thank you both for proof reading this and all the help you have given me - mwah mwah. xoxo

Tag List: @offendedfishnoises @internalsealpanic @batarella @batarella-mini @lucy-roo @illzarr @pricetagofficial @jadedhillon @vvipgot7be @clementinesandstars @thedeadlythoughts @fantasticwizardnerd @power-of-words23 @vintagexparker @borntobewondering @l-inkage @fourteengemstones @ficrecsideblog @insane-without-delirium @so-now-what-huh @imjeralee @geekonaleash @dairydragon84 @dragonchildyuki @ediwdac @fxrchxldws @hyperfixationsandhecticness @chelinn @maniacproffesor @8ether @the-abyss-of-fandoms @babymango-writes @indigowcrds @catxsnow @lostoctaviaaugusta @empower-bi-women @jd-loves-everyone @xatanna-troy @phoenixhalliwell @a-sketchy-jedi @ramdomtails @ximaginx @little-miss-naill @spideypoolfeelz @queenbelena @rosalietodd013 @multifandomgirl-us @multitudinous-writes @mariechen1397 @brennenscolby @batgalsblog @bamboozledjt @crappy-unicorn @batmom69 @adazzlingsakura @weirdgirlfromtx @anousiemay @iamsofuckinglostsblog @pinklipsnotips @celestialgalaxies @galvysta @novelisticmess @onfir3 @this-hufflepuff @secretlovexo @naeratargaryen @eyelessjackswife @maplumebleue-blog-blog @futuristicallysweetstarfish @dianduh11 @beccis18 @kaylossol @alex-ehhh @hambuurgerz @mando-e @laguana-doofinsmirtz - Drop me a message if you want to be added to my tag list. xoxo

~~~

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naturallytom · 3 years ago

Text

Mending a Broken Heart (Tom Holland x reader, alternative part)

a/n: me? writing? unheard of. jk im tryin to get back into the groove!! this is an alternate version to Mending a Broken Heart, so some parts are the same and some I’ve edited or added some things! hope u enjoy!!

warnings: language, angst, mentions of cheating

please reblog/leave feedback!!

picture not mine!

You had noticed it for months. Tom has been pulling away, spending more time out with the boys than at home with you. His kisses became forced and the words ‘love you’ slowly stopped falling from his lips.

Most days he would leave for work before you woke up and on the rare occasion you were up when he left, he would mumble a ‘goodbye’ before walking out the door. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he would press a gentle kiss to your forehead. Most times, though, he would just leave.

You did your best to keep the love alive, you were still madly in love with him. The wedding band that sat tightly on your ring finger mocked you. A symbol of what was love has turned into one sided love. Hell, you weren’t sure if Tom wore his wedding ring anymore.

A quick glance to his left hand would reveal that he didn’t.

You spent your nights wondering if it was something you did. Were you too clingy when he left to film? Was he just tired of you after four years of marriage? Did he find someone else?

No. You shook your head to yourself one night as you laid in the bed by yourself, the space usually occupied by Tom cold. If he found someone else and if he cheated, that’s on him. Not on you.

Still, the thought plagued your mind. Did he meet someone else? Was she prettier than you? Is that where he was when he said he was out with the boys? Was she able to give him something you couldn’t give him?

The door opening and shutting alerted you that Tom was home. You sighed, knowing it’d be another night of sleeping on opposite sides of the bed.

The door to the bedroom opened and in came Tom, Tessa jumping up to greet him.

“Hey girl, hey love, how are you, hm?” He whispered, petting Tessa as his eyes flickering over to you, who was visibly awake. “Thought you’d be asleep by now. ‘S late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You replied simply. “Hey so I was thinking, we haven’t had a date night in a while, maybe you wanted to go out to see the Halloween decorations around town and get dinner tomorrow night?”

“Can’t,” He shook his head as he got ready for bed. “Harrison wants to watch the game. Told him I’d go.”

“Didn’t you just see Harrison tonight?”

“Yeah, and?”

“Nothing.” You sighed, obviously upset. “Nothing, Tom. Goodnight.”

“Night.” He responded, turning out the light and climbing into bed, falling asleep with his back toward you.

The next day, you were surprised to see Tom already awake and waiting in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of tea when you got downstairs.

“Good morning.” You smiled softly.

“We need to talk.” He told you. You felt your heart drop and your palms get sweaty, but you wiped them on your pajama pants in an effort to seem totally calm and not panicked.

“A-About what?” You asked, your voice coming out shaky.

“I think,” Tom started. “I think we should get divorced.”

It was then, at 8:30 am that your world came crashing down.

“W-What?” You whimpered out, your voice weaker than before. “Why?”

“I’m not happy with you anymore.” He said simply. Your eyes flickered to his left hand, noticing the absence of the golden wedding band, making your heart ache.

“We can try couples’ therapy. We can go on dates like we used to, Tom, please! We can fight for this, Tom. Fight for us.” You cried, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces, each one puncturing your lungs as you struggled to keep your breath under control.

“No,” He shook his head. “My mind is made up. I’m sorry, y/n. Um, I found a lawyer at a firm, they have a lot of other lawyers there you can contact. I’ll just, uh, leave their card here.”

“So that’s it? Three years of dating and four years of marriage down the drain?” You sobbed, holding your knees to your chest as you sat on the kitchen floor.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Truly, I am.”

He placed the small business card on the counter, grabbing the bags you didn’t even notice, mumbling an ‘I’ll be staying with Haz,’ before walking out the front door, like he did every other day. This time, though, you had the sinking feeling he was leaving for good.

It was only three weeks that your lawyer came over to meet with you, joined by Tom and his lawyer. You kept your eyes focused on the table as you signed the paperwork, wanting to get this done as soon as possible.

As soon as everyone left, you shut the door, slid down the back of it, and cried.

Nearly two months after the worst day of your life and it was time for a self care night. The ring that once sat on your left hand was buried away in your jewelry box somewhere and you were finally starting to feel free and somewhat happy again after crying yourself to sleep and wondering where it all went wrong for months.

After the divorce you buried yourself in work, using it as a distraction from going home to an empty house. You also moved out of the house you once called home. Not only was it too painful to go home to an empty house, but it was too painful to go home to a house that held so many happy and loving memories. You took the necessities along with some things you wanted with you and set yourself up in a hotel room for the time being. You treated it as a vacation. Except only a few people knew where you were. Your family knew, along with your friends, including Harrison, on the condition he didn’t tell Tom where you were. You started making time for yourself in your little hotel room and you became happier.

Tonight, after a long day of work, you ordered your favorite Chinese food, played your favorite songs, and ran yourself a bath with a vanilla scented bath bomb. You were enjoying a glass of wine, the hot water of the bath soothing you when the music playing from your phone was interrupted by a call coming in.

To your surprise, it was Tom. You contemplated answering it, but instead, let it go to voicemail. However, you were curious as to why he called, though you were also 99% positive it was a pocket dial. So you played the voicemail, the familiar voice ringing throughout the bathroom.

“Hey y/n, um, I hope you’re doing well. I just called because I wanted to tell you something. I um, I miss you. A lot. And I know I don’t get to feel that way but I do and I just wanted to tell you that and I guess ask if there was any possibility of meeting to talk? Uh, call me back if...if you want. I don’t blame you if you hate me. Bye. Love y-”

You turned off the voicemail before the phrase could be finished. Millions of thoughts filled your mind, ranging from happy ones to ones that made your heart ache and tears fill your eyes.

You decided to ignore it, pretend it never happened, and enjoy your self care night.

When Tom pulled up to his former house with flowers in his car and a pit of nerves in his stomach, he expected to see your car in the driveway and at least one light to be on. He was greeted with an empty driveway and a dark house, which confused him. It was the weekend, so you weren’t work. Maybe you had to run an errand?

But after 20 minutes, he gave up hope that you were home and tried to call you, which to no surprise, you didn’t pick up again. He instead called Harrison in an effort to try and find out if he knew where you were.

“What do you want?” Harrison answered, half concentrating on what Tom was about to say and half concentrating on the game in front of him.

“Do, uh, do you know where y/n is?” Tom asked, taking Harrison by surprise.

“y/n?” Harrison paused the game, suddenly not able to concentrate on it. “Why d’you want to know where y/n is?”

“I just want to talk to her.” He mumbled.

“If I knew that’s where you were going I wouldn’t have let you go.” Harrison sighed. “Listen she made me swear that I wouldn’t tell you-”

“Please Harrison? You’ve seen how much of a mess I’ve been. I just want to see if I have a shot.” Tom begged, making his friend cave.

“Fine but if she moves again I won’t be telling you shit.”

The next day you were enjoying a cup of tea and reading your book, getting some relaxation in before your week began when a knock on the door interrupted you. Confusion filled your body, you weren’t expecting anyone to pop by.

Looking out the peephole, you froze at the sight that greeted you. Tom was standing outside your door, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands.

“Hi.” He breathed out, his nose and the tips of his ears red from the harsh winter air.

“How the hell did you find me?” You asked, keeping your eyes focused on the ground.

“Harrison. I begged him to tell me.” He answered.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You muttered. “What do you want?”

“Can..Can I come in?” He asked.

You wanted to say no, that he could say what he wanted to say outside or just not let him speak at all. But you wanted to be courteous to the other people on your floor and part of you was curious as to what he was going to say. So you wordlessly opened the door slightly, letting him in and closing the door behind him.

“Now what do you want?”

“Did you get my voicemail?” He responded, hope filling his eyes when you nodded. “Um, I brought these for you. I was hoping we could talk.”

“I don’t want your flowers. Why should I talk to you? We’re divorced, just like you wanted.” Tom winced at the words. “Nothing to change.”

“Actually, we’re not.” He corrected. “I called the office the other day. Um, it’s not official yet.”

“Well then they should make it official. Maybe I can call them and make it happen as my very last Christmas present to you. Just what you wanted.” You snapped.

“No, this isn’t what I want, can I speak, please?” He pleaded, his eyes resembling those of a puppy.

“You’re speaking already.” You answered, gesturing for him to continue nonetheless.

“I- How have you been? I stopped by the house-”

“Tom I’m not gonna listen to your small talk. Say what you have to say and leave.” You told him. His heart broke but he couldn’t blame you.

“Um, so I thought I wasn’t happy with you but um, as time went on, I realized how much I miss having you in my life.” He began, visibly nervous. “I was just looking through our pictures and how happy you looked and I just, I guess I realized I wanted to be the one to make you that happy again.”

“You haven’t made me happy in months, Tom.”

“I know.” His heart clenched. “I know and I’m so sorry, y/n. I really am.”

“Was there someone else? Did you cheat on me?” You asked.

“No, no absolutely not, y/n.” He answered before adding; “I went on a date with someone after we split up but it didn’t work out. I realized she wasn’t what I want.”

“Of course she wasn’t.” You scoffed.

“I want you, y/n. I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy again.” He told you, tears filling your eyes. “Is there..is there any possibility you could love me again?”

“Again?” You seethed. “Tom I never fell out of love with you! I never stopped loving you! That was all you! You stopped loving me and you wanted this stupid fucking divorce!”

“I..I don’t think I ever stopped loving you either.” He whispered, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. “Please, y/n, if there’s even the tiniest chance..”

“Of what, Tom? Of going right back to being married? Of you making me happy? I don’t know, Tom! I don’t know anything except that I hate you right now.” You sobbed, crying into your knees while Tom let out quiet sobs of his own, his heart clenching at the lack of wedding band on your left hand and the lack of love in your voice, but especially your eyes. Your eyes, which once held so much love and adoration for him were now full of anger and resentment.

“Of..anything, y/n. Please, I just want a second chance to show you how much you mean to me, to make you happy again. I will do anything to save us, anything you want. And...and if it’s not working or you just really hate me, I wouldn’t blame you. Not at all.” He begged, his eyes puffy and red.

“I tried to save us, Tom. Don’t you remember? I begged and pleaded with you to do couples therapy to go on dates when you were breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces. I begged you to try and fight for us, for our marriage, but you just walked out the god damn door!” You spit through gritted teeth.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so badly.” He cried, wiping his tears away.

“And if leaving me wasn’t enough, you took Tessa too! I was left completely alone in that big fucking house that was haunted by you. I couldn’t stand it.” You sobbed.

“I’m..I’m sorry, y/n. So so fucking sorry. What do you want me to do?”

“I want...I want you to hurt. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. I want you to know how this fucking feels.” You said, your voice getting louder with each word that fell from your lips.

Tom could only cry. This was ripping him apart, he couldn’t even imagine what the whole thing felt like to you.

“I’m gonna need time to think, Tom.” You finally mumbled, Tom nodding in response.

“I’ll give you all the time you need. I promise you-”

“Don’t. Don’t promise me anything.” You spoke, your voice low. “You won’t be able to keep it. You promised you’d love me forever four years ago and look what happened.”

“y/n pl-”

“You don’t get to do this. You-you don’t get to just waltz right back in here and ask for a second chance to fight for us when I didn’t even get a first chance. How do I know this won’t end like it did before?”

“y/n, I swear to you, if this isn’t working out, you can leave me. I...I just want a chance to prove myself to you.” He begged.

“God, Tom. You don’t get it! I’m not going through this again. Do you realize how much you broke me the first time? Fuck, you had a chance, Tom. And you threw it away.” You muttered quietly.

“I regret that every day. Every god damn day.” He told you honestly.

“I don’t know, Tom.” You sighed.

“Talk to me?” He tried, knowing you were hiding something deeper than an ‘I don’t know.’

“Don’t know what else there is to say.” You mumbled. “I don’t trust you, I-I can’t trust you. I hate you.”

“Why’d you get a hotel room?” Tom sniffled, changing the subject.

“I told you. I hated being in that house. Hated being surrounded by the happy pictures and memories of us.” You told him honestly. “I want to start over.”

“What?”

“I want to start over. I can’t go back to being emotionally married to you even if we’ll still be married legally. I’m talking starting from scratch, as if we were meeting for the first time, the whole deal.” You told him.

“That sounds perfect, y/n. Thank y-”

“Get out, Tom. Please. I just want to be alone and not with you right now. I’m still not happy with you.”

“Okay.” He breathed out, hope filling him once again. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“What did I just say about promises?” You asked tearily.

“I know, I know. I’m determined to keep this promise, though.” He told you.

“Fine. Whatever. Just please leave for now.” You whimpered, watching as he walked out the door, just like he did when he broke your heart.

You decided you needed another self care night. Another bath was run, another vanilla scented bath bomb was used, more wine was consumed.

Tom texted you right as you got out of the bath.

Tom: hey y/n, it’s tom, just incase you don’t have my number saved anymore. I just wanted to say thank you for the second chance. I really am grateful. I hope you have a relaxing night, you deserve it.

You rolled your eyes and tossed your phone gently on your bed, though you could feel your heart rate pick up and butterflies fill your stomach.

Tom began texting you sweet little things each morning, whether it was to let you know that he’s been thinking of you or to tell you that he hopes you have a great day. At first you ignored them, but then you began responding in short answers of one or two words until the two of you were texting every day, like when you met for the first time seven years ago.

Over a month after you started texting again, Tom took you on a first date. Pulling up to your hotel, Tom felt the nerves fill his body as he walked up to your door and knocked, another bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand.

He felt all the air leave his lungs as you opened the door. You looked absolute stunning. You were wearing a navy blue dress that reached down to just above your knees, one Tom bought you one year.

“Wow, hi.” He breathed. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, accepting the flowers he handed you. “I’ll be right back.”

Tom took you to your favorite restaurant that night, one that the two of you frequented when you (formerly) went on dates.

When he took you back to your hotel, he walked you up to the door, where he nervously asked if he could kiss you.

You said yes, and that was all Tom needed to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was magical, both of you felt the sparks between the two of you.

“God I missed doing that.” Tom mumbled as he pulled away to breathe.

“Then do it again.”

A couple months after that, Tom moved back in with you. You had gone back to the house every now and then, to slowly acclimate yourself to being back in the once happy house, only fully moving back when Tom moved back as well. The pictures of the two of you were dusted off, making your heart race instead of hurt at the sight of the happy memories.

Finally, after a year, Tom proposed to you (again). You hesitated a little bit, still scared it would end in heartbreak again, which broke Tom’s heart, but said you yes in the end.

The two of you renewed your vows, putting on the golden bands that were once again a symbol of the love the two of you shared.

You had a small party back at your house after the ceremony, your families joining to celebrate. You found Tom alone in the kitchen, grabbing a beer for him and Harry.

“Hey.” You greeted, fiddling with your fingers as tears of happiness filled your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, my love?” Tom asked, concerned as soon he saw the tears filling your eyes.

“Nothing, nothing. I, um,” You started, wiping your tears away and wrapping your arms around Tom’s neck. “I’m really glad we made it back to this.”

“Me too, lovey. I love you so much.” He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Hey, Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“You kept your promise.” You smiled softly, making Tom’s heart ache at the memory of you not being able to trust him.

“I told you I would.”

Your moment was interrupted by Harrison, who entered the kitchen, smiling at his two best friends happily in love once again.

“Aren’t you so glad I told him where you were staying?” He joked, making you roll your eyes.

“Shut up, Harrison.” You smiled. As your eyes flickered between Tom and Harrison, though, you knew you wouldn’t have been in this position if Harrison didn’t spill the beans to Tom.

“Hey Haz?” You called, as Harrison went to leave the kitchen in fake offense. He turned at the sound of his name, knowing what was coming.

“Thank you.” Tom nodded in agreement, his arm slipping around your waist.

Harrison just smiled even bigger, all three of you knowing everything would be okay from now on.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x female!reader

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beauvibaby · 4 years ago

Text

become a family – a.beauvillier

You hadn’t meant to keep Gia a secret from your childhood friend, really honestly, you two had just lost touch, and by the time you found out you were pregnant and her dad left, it felt wrong to reach out simply to tell him that. So you didn’t.

But when you found out you were relocating to New York, Long Island specifically. You knew you had no choice but to reach out, it only made sense, it felt wrong not too. “Mommy.” Gia whined, “play!” She demanded with a tilt of her chubby face, motioning to the Minnie Mouse tea set she had sprawled across your tiny unpacked apartment floor. “Just a second baby.” You assured her with a soft laugh, you read the message you had typed out, you let out a deep breath and pushed send before moving to join your daughter on the floor, forcing the thought of checking your phone to the back of your mind.

“Hey, Tito. I know we haven’t spoken in forever, but I’m moving to Long Island, with my daughter, I thought it’d be nice to meet up sometime. Hope all is well!”

When he got the notification from Instagram, both of you long having lost each other’s phone numbers, his heart stopped briefly, he scrambled to unlock his phone, Mat eyeing him suspiciously. Tito read the message at least five times before what you said had processed with him, he clicked on your profile, he hadn’t really paid much attention to your posts, and they were so far and few between, he scrolled to the first one that was baby related.

A picture of your sonogram in front of your crossed legs, your ready to pop stomach on display, “just me and you against the world baby girl.”

Tito’s heart clenched in his chest, guilt, curiosity and sadness running through him, he scrolled to the next, a simple black and white photo of Gia when she was born, the caption only being her date of birth. The next wasn’t for another six months or so, the two of you in a small apartment back home. “Gia and mommy’s first place!”

He went through them all quickly, up to the most recent, from just before you sent the message, you with Gia on your hip, the two and a half year old hanging on tightly to you with a giggle as you grinned at the camera, your keys hanging off your finger. “New beginnings…”

“Tito? Dude, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Mat finally spoke up, Tito nodded, “you remember, Y/N? Right?” He questioned his friend, Mat nodded, curiously. “She’s here.” Tito whispered, Mat raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean she's here?” “She moved to Long Island.”

***

You truthfully had forgotten to check your phone that night, you ended up putting Gia to bed late and you simply passed out right after. So when you woke, the memories came flooding back, you rushed to grab your phone, seeing a response on your Instagram.

“Long Island? A kid??? We definitely need to meet up, I’m dying to know everything. Missed you.”

Your heart returned to normal at his response, thankful that he was accepting and not shutting you out.

“Missed you too, you became a big shot! I’m taking Gia to a park down the street from my apartment today, I’ll send you the address if you want to come.”

That’s how you ended up here, pushing your daughter in the swing as she shrieked excitedly. Your laughter echoed through the remotely empty park, your attention solely on her as she had a nervous look on her face as the swing went a little higher, you slowed her down and she resumed her happy shouts. “Y/N.” Tito called, your head snapping in his direction, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets as he looked over at you with a grin, his eyes flickering between you and Gia. “Hi.” You grinned right back at him as he walked over to you, he wrapped his arms around you in a hug as he reached you, Gia slowly coming to a stop in the child swing. “Oh god, it’s been too long.” You spoke, voice muffled by his jacket. “Definitely.” He agreed easily, pulling away as Gia began to fuss. You pulled her out of the swing and she clung to you, eyeing him suspiciously, she was always particularly wary about men. “Hello.” He spoke softly to her, giving her a soft wave. She smiled weakly, hiding her face in your neck. “Say hi, Gia.” You whispered to her, she lifted her head, looking over at Tito who was still smiling fondly at her, “hi, Gia.” She spoke, sending you both into a fit of laughter. “We’re working on it.” You assured him through your giggles, your daughter dramatically hiding again. “That’s ok.” Tito assured you, noticing all the ways Gia resembled you.

“Lunch?” She whispered to you, wiggling to get down, “yes, let’s go.” You led her over to the covered portion of the park, where you had left your things, Tito followed behind you, holding in a chuckle at the way Gia happily ran towards the table, swinging her arms for exaggeration. You sat her up on the bench, sitting beside her and Tito sat across from the two of you, watching you silently, “how have you been?” You started speaking, feeling your skin warm up under his gaze. “Good, yeah, I’ve been good.” He answered, “what about you? Been busy I see.” He joked, Gia glanced up at him as she took a bite of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Yeah, she keeps me on my toes, in the best possible way.” You smiled at your daughter, she happily minded her own business, clueless to half the stuff you two spoke about. You told him about her dad, only using his name so she wouldn’t be confused, already learning that she didn’t have the two parents that some of her other friends have.

Jesse, you never expected him to work out long term, but you never expected to get pregnant either. Long story short, you told him and you gave him the option to not be involved, but he had to be committed to being a co parent or nothing at all. He chose the latter, and never looked back.

“That’s-“ “it’s good, I think, he wouldn’t have been able to stay committed.” You cut Tito off, not needing the apology speech again. He nodded, moving past the subject, a large grin started etching across his face as Gia tugged on your sleeve. You leaned down and smiled as she whispered to the best of her ability, “share?” She asked you, Tito cocked his head to the side as you nodded and leaned away. Gia grabbed one of her fruit gummies and held it out to Tito. “Share.” She mumbled cutely, smiling shyly with her head tilted down a little, just like you do. Tito gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart, “thank you!” He took it from her and popped it in his mouth, earning a genuine laugh from her that made his heart sore. Already so in love with your daughter and wanting nothing but the best for both of you. She tried to offer him more but he sweetly told her no, and that she should eat her lunch, she listened and continued snacking away. “Has she been to a game?” Tito asked you with a wicked grin, “no, actually, I haven’t been to a game since I had her.” You admitted, cringing as he gaped at you, muttering in French under his breath.

“I’m getting you tickets.” He spoke, already pulling his phone out, “what? No, Tito.” You rushed feeling guilty,

“Yes.” He stuck his tongue out at you, typing away on his phone before asking for your phone number to send you the info. You gave it to him, knowing he would just be stubborn anyways. “Thank you. Really. She’ll have a blast, I’m sure.” You spoke as you opened your phone to look at what he sent you, “Anthony!” You scolded, Gia jumping in her spot next to you, “Y/N!” He mimicked, giggling at your daughter who glared at him. “That’s too much, those seats are–“ “Those seats are necessary.” He cut you off, “it’s final. No take backs.” He teased, much like he did when the two of you were younger. You sighed, shaking your head with a small smile, “fine, you better win, for her.” You told him, motioning to Gia who was getting sleepier by the second. “I should take her home.” You added as she yawned, her head resting against her arms on the table. He smiled at her eyes fluttering shut, “yeah, but I’ll see you at the game, right?” He raised an eyebrow as he stood up, you nodded, moving to give him a hug goodbye.

You watched with a bursting heart as he pushed some of Gia’s hair back, leaving a feathery light kiss to her full cheek, “bye, sweetheart.” He whispered, she whined, nestling further into herself. You wiped at your eyes once he was no longer facing you, the sight before you simply pulling on your heart strings.

***

You adjusted the jerseys on yours and Gia’s bodies, the both of you wearing jeans with them. She smiled at the excitement on your face, “do you remember mommy’s friend we met yesterday, Tito?” You questioned her as you walked hand in hand to the elevator, she looked up at you curiously, “we’re going to see him do his job, you get to watch them play hockey.” You explained to her, she simply smiled, all oblivious to what you meant, but she got excited because you were excited. “Teo.” She spoke, an attempt at his name, not very good but adorable nonetheless. You whipped your phone out, squatting down in the elevator, you started recording her, “who are we going to see?” You asked her, she shook her head happily, her pigtails bouncing around, “teo!” She said proudly, clapping for herself. “Tito, good job.” You praised her before ending the clip, you sent it to him with a thumbs up before continuing to acknowledge Gia’s babbling.

He responded quicker than you thought he would, “I guess I’ve grown on her.” He sent a heart afterwards, presumably putting his phone away for the night to prepare for the game.

Gia whined as she clung to you, terrified of all the people surrounding the both of you, “it’s alright honey.” You shushed her as you slowly inched forward in the line, she nodded against you, arms wrapped around your neck and legs trying to wrap around your waist. You thanked the person as they scanned your tickets, letting you two begin the journey to your overpriced glass side seats. You were relieved to see they had already begun warm ups so she would be distracted by them, once she adjusted to her surroundings you knew she’d be fine. “Look baby, see how fast they go.” You held her up, pointing out to the ice, she instantly became mesmerized by them whizzing by. You sighed in relief as you tried to spot the oh so familiar number 18. The two of you wearing jerseys with his name, something you knew he would get a charge out of, as long as you could remember, you would wear his number to his games. And now would be no different.

You spotted him at the same time he spotted you, a bright smile coming over his face as he flicked a puck up and caught it in his hand, skating over to you. He waved at you and Gia and she grinned, recognizing him and suddenly no longer being shy as she tapped on the glass with an amused smile. “Hi!” She shrieked, earning a laugh from him. He motioned the puck in his hand and you nodded, easily catching it as he tossed it over, handing it to Gia who stared at it in amazement, “good luck.” You mouthed, fist bumping the glass like you did as a teenager, he grinned and did the same before skating off, some of his friends nudging him and asking questions as you settled into your seat for the night.

Gia enjoyed the game and the loud sounds more than you thought she would, she adjusted quickly to the slamming of the boards, if anything, you think that may have been her favorite part.

Once the game was over, you were directed by Tito to tell one of the arena employees your name and they’d bring you down to see him. Much to your surprise, it worked, Gia was antsy to be let down to run around, and thankfully the person leading you through the huge building was a sweet young girl, probably your age, who was just absolutely loving Gia. “Just go to the right, and stop at the double doors.” She explained to you as the elevator came to a stop, “thank you.” You smiled, ushering Gia onto the concrete floor, her laughter echoing as she had some room to run around and burn up some of her energy. You were speed walking behind her just to keep up with her little legs, “baby, hang on!” You called, sighing as you rushed to grab her, just in time too as the doors opened and a couple of guys walked out, thankfully Tito was one of them. “Hey.” You breathed out, Gia looked over, “teo!” She ran over to him, putting her arms up, he looked at you for approval, “oh, of course.” You gave him a look, as if you wouldn’t trust him with your daughter. He easily lifted her up, smile widening when she wrapped her little arms around him. A stark difference to her greeting yesterday. “You must be, Y/N.” One of them spoke to you as Gia began babbling to Tito who nodded along enthusiastically. “I am.” You responded, shaking his hand, “Mat.” He grinned, you nodded knowingly, “I know, I follow the sport.” You teased him, earning a snicker from Tito as he walked over to you. “Hey.” He mumbled, giving you a one armed hug as Gia refused to leave his hold. You lightly tickled your daughter as she hid in his neck from all the other guys. “You played good.” You assured him, he smiled softly in return before introducing you to some of his teammates, laughing when you became all shy, staying close to him and your daughter. You answered all the questions they threw at you, not noticing Gia was drifting off on Tito’s shoulder until she was already out like a light.

***

It’s been about 6 weeks since that game, the season kicking into full gear, Tito traveling very often but still coming over to see you guys when he wasn’t on the road, and today, he was coming over for the first time in two weeks, and Gia had no idea. The relationship between them was more than you could ever ask for, even yours and Tito’s relationship had changed, it wasn’t even spoken, it just happened, one night as he was leaving after you put Gia down. You leaned up to kiss his cheek but he turned, not knowing what you were doing. You both jumped back, muttering apologies, but you kept your hands on his chest, slowly you inched back together, your lips coming together softly.

Then it became more often, sneaking in kisses here or there, I miss you texts, phone calls. And now, now you were bouncing with excitement just to see him.

Tito knocked on the door with a wide smile, excited to see his two favorite girls, that thought running through his head the whole trip back, in his mind, he wanted to call you his, but he knew he hadn't even spoken to you about what this was.

You rushed over to open the door, Gia only just waking from her nap, “hi.” You whispered immediately being engulfed in his arms, yours going to wrap around his neck. “I missed you.” He admitted into your hair, kissing the side of your head, “I missed you too.” You assured him, leaning away to meet his eyes, something went unspoken between you two as he pulled you in for a kiss. This one was different though, more powerful than the rest had been. You sighed against him, melting into his hold as you kissed him back slowly, not wanting to rush the moment. “Tito.” You went to speak after you pulled back to breathe, “yeah, I know.” He murmured, pecking your lips again before finally stepping all the way inside. “Is she sleeping?” He frowned, wanting to see her, “she’s starting to wake up, I heard her fussing.” You explained, neither of you making any effort to untangle yourselves. “Would you want to go out with me sometime? Like a date.” Tito asked, you nodded instantly, “can’t we just count all the times you’ve stayed over here late as dates?” You teased, instantly making him relax. “Well, then I think it’s fine if I do this, as much as I want.” He joked, kissing you again, squeezing your hips.

“I think so too.” You agreed, pulling away once you heard Gia climbing out of her bed. “Gia, I have a surprise!” You called, hearing her giggle and run down the hall, she saw you and then she saw Tito standing beside you. What neither of you expected was the word about to come out of her mouth, “daddy!” You nearly passed out right there, literally swaying and having to grip Tito for stability. She hugged his legs, looking up at him with a grin. “Tito.” He corrected her gently, lifting her up once you regained your composure. “Hi, sweet girl.” He tickled her sides as he hugged her tightly, her laughter filling the room, you smiled at the sight, hoping that one day this would become a reality.

****

“Rough day?” You questioned Gia as she dramatically huffed and sat at the kitchen counter beside her sister. “Yes.” Gia spoke with a sigh, you held back your laughter, knowing that 1st grade could just be oh so difficult, Tito walked in a moment after with her backpack and lunch box, smiling at you as you held the two month old to your chest. He walked over to the girls, laughing at the bored expression on Gia’s face as she watched her two year old sister munch away on her fruit, “hi princess.” Tito greeted Sadie with a kiss to the head, before making his way over to you, kissing your lips and whispering a hello before taking the baby from you. He smiled as Cade gripped his finger tightly, looking up at his dad with the bright blue eyes that they shared. “Daddy, can we go for ice cream tonight?” Gia pouted at him, using the look she got from you that made him cave immediately. He glanced at you, who nodded, “only because it’s friday.” He pointed an accusing finger at her, watching as her annoyed expression broke into a smile. “Thank you!” She sang happily bounding to her room upstairs. You laughed at the sigh he let out, “Aw, did you have a rough day too, honey?” You teased, resting your head on his chest as he wrapped his free arm around you, Sadie coughing for attention and succeeding as you both looked over to make sure she wasn’t choking. She only smiled, Tito’s smile as she continued to eat her blueberries slowly, you glared lightly at her as she giggled. “I did have a rough day, thanks for asking.” He mused.

“My wife didn’t text me once all day.” He pouted at you, “I’m so sorry, I assumed you would be busy working and all.” You laughed at him, cupping his stubbled jaw, “how ever did you survive?” You asked with fake concern. “I’m not really sure. But I did, and I lived long enough to pick her up from school, I’ve earned my ice cream.” He quipped.

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo

#anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier #Anthony Beauvillier fic #tito beauvillier imagine #Tito Beauvillier

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 4 years ago

Photo

Words: 5,050 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, coerced marriage, gore, violence, sexuality, typical TWD stuff (recommended NC17+) A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: Inside Sanctuary, Y/N tries to figure out where Daryl is and what his condition is as well as developing a plan to get him out.

Your name: submit What is this?

You forgot how much damn time was wasted in that place, just sitting around with the other wives trying to think of something to talk about or something to do with your time. You visited the library frequently but you couldn’t actually focus enough on the books to really read. It was like you just stared and turned the pages in some charade while your mind obsessed over where Daryl was… what state he was in… Days went by and they all felt the same, all tinged with you on edge, wracked with anxiety over finding him. You were worried you were going to lose track of how long you had been there. You were constantly looking for that golden opportunity and watching for danger at the same time. Constantly trying to scout out the building, spy on Dwight, and make sure no one was getting suspicious of you.

Finally, you managed to follow Dwight early one morning as he was delivering something to a cell. And you caught a glimpse of a huddled form as he shut the door, a man with long, wavy brown hair. You heart hammered in your chest as you pressed yourself back against the wall around the corner. Daryl. It was him. You knew it. You only needed to see him for a brief moment to know it was him. He was alive. He was alive.

But you didn’t breathe a sigh of relief for long. You knew what they were likely doing to him. You rushed back to your room and grabbed two slices of bread from your kitchenette. You laid some slices of cheese on each and tucked them into your bag, wrapped in some paper towel. You wished you could give him water, but you could only deliver whatever would fit in the small space beneath the door.

Daryl was sitting in the darkness, staring down at the dogfood sandwich Dwight had delivered him, his stomach turning but panging with hunger, when a soft noise suddenly drew his attention.

He looked to his left and saw that something was partially blocking the light beneath the door. He put his hand down on something soft. He felt it with his fingers and leaned down. Food. Someone had slipped in some bread and cheese beneath the door.

Was this a trick? Daryl stared at it for one moment before he picked it up and took an eager bite. It tasted like ambrosia to him. All he had been given was dogfood between thin slices of stale bread since he had been thrown in there. He’d never tasted something so wonderful in his life… but the question now was who the hell had slipped him the food?

And it continued. At least once a day, often more than that, something, sustenance, was slipped under his door. The archer was baffled, but he wasn’t about to question it.

You never dared to linger outside the door to try and talk to him. That was too risky. But you at least could make sure he had something to eat, something with some nutrients. You got creative with what you could make thin enough to fit—cutting apples into thin slices, vegetables, meat and cheese, cooked egg. Anything. But more than anything, you longed to see him, to inspect his condition, know how he was… to speak to him, to tell him that everything was going to be okay. Your heart felt broken, limping along in your chest out of habit, as you thought about how close you were to him and yet how far away.

One day you were gathered with the other wives and Negan in the early evening. It happened.

Dwight walked through, holding Daryl by the back of his filthy sweatshirt. Your heart actually stopped. You concentrated on keeping your face blank even while your heart stalled in your chest. It didn’t take more than two seconds before he saw you there, his blue eyes meeting yours. He actually tried to take another step in toward you, like he was being magnetically pulled and couldn’t help it but Dwight tugged back on him harshly. His brain didn’t comprehend what he was seeing at first. He really thought he was hallucinating it. Maybe he had finally cracked. You were so beautiful. He thought of you so often while he was in there, using his memories of you as an escape from the hell he was in. He thought of how you bit your bottom lip when you were concentrating. He thought of that goddamn smile you always gave him. He thought of how you scrunched your nose up at him when you were trying to pretend to be annoyed… But—no. This was something else. This was new. You were there. You were actually there.

You could see that Daryl had black eyes and cuts on his face, bruises. He’d been beat up and he was filthy, but you were relieved to see that he was mostly whole. But he looked broken, somewhat defeated, his shoulders hanging on his frame, so unlike the man you had come to know, except when you caught his eyes… there was a raging inferno there. The sight of you in that room, the realization that you had “given” yourself to Negan, had fanned it. He felt like he could be sick right then and there, just double over and vomit. You managed to shake your head ever so slightly as you held his eyes, hoping he knew that you meant he shouldn’t give away his connection to you. It took everything in him not to just start throwing punches.

Daryl’s mind was spinning. What the hell had happened? How had you come to be there? Had Negan captured you? Had he taken you forcefully? Had he simply convinced you in exchange for some benefit to the group, to Alexandria? How could you possibly be there, with him? And not just there, not just in the Sanctuary. You were one of his wives. The thought of Negan touching you, his hands on you, kissing you… doing more, whatever he wanted… especially having seen the terror in your eyes when you had told him about your past. It was too much. Daryl clenched his jaw, biting down hard and trying to control his breathing, his expression, trying to prevent his hands from balling into fists.

“There he is!” Negan exclaimed with a smile, standing up from his place in an armchair where he was receiving a shoulder massage from his wife, Frankie. “Daryl! How’s it hangin’? Don’t answer that. Don’t care,” he said with a laugh. “Dwight, I think you should take Daryl down for some fence duty. He’s been in time-out in his hole for long enough as punishment for that hilarious escape attempt. Oh—Daryl. You haven’t met my wife Y/N before. Ya see, Y/N here escaped. Just like old Dwighty boy there and Sherry. We’re gonna call that temporary insanity, right, baby?” He shot a look at you. “But she. came. back. Because she realized that there is no better place to be than here.” Negan walked over to where you were standing against the wall. “And all is forgiven,” he said softly. He reached one hand around to your lower back and tugged you against him. He slid his other hand into your hair and kissed you, deeply, heatedly… his tongue exploring your mouth and his hands exploring your body. And Daryl had to avert his eyes. He couldn’t look. He felt bile rising up into his throat. He was worried Dwight would feel him trembling. Anger was bubbling in his chest at a rolling boil. He imagined ripping Negan off you and beating him into the ground… but he had to just stand there. He had to just let it happen. Finally, Negan broke apart from you and smoothed a thumb over your cheek as he clasped your face, unmistakable desire in his eyes. When he looked back at Dwight and Daryl, his eyes were twinkling and there was a smile on his face. “Ya see, Daryl? Just stop fighting it! And your life will get so much cooler!” He laughed and waved a hand to dismiss him and Dwight tugged him out.

You stood there with your chest heaving, staring down at your shoes, thinking only of the condition Daryl seemed to be in. Your heart was breaking and you had to choke down a swelling of nausea which was becoming all too familiar, almost a constant. If you survived this, you were sure you were going to have an ulcer.

Negan soon left with Frankie announcing that he desperately needed one of her full body massages and you felt as if you could collapse with relief that you wouldn’t have to endure him that night. As soon as he was out of the room, you went to the bar and leaned on it, staring vacantly at the wall. You sensed someone beside you suddenly and looked up to see Sherry. She glanced over her shoulder, clearly making sure Negan was really gone and that no one else was close enough to overhear.

“You know him,” she said quietly.

Your eyes snapped over to her in surprise. “What?”

She studied your expression. “It’s alright. I won’t say anything. And it wasn’t you who gave it away,” she said.

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you tried to guess at her meaning. “What are you—”

“I saw the look in his eyes when he saw you. His face when Negan kissed you. And how he was looking at you when your eyes were elsewhere…” She looked down at her hands sadly. “It’s how D sometimes looks at me,” she said, lighting up a cigarette and blowing out a cloud of smoke up toward the pendent lights over the bar. “Or, maybe, how he used to. How do you know him?” she asked.

You thought you had to have misheard her. What she was implying was that Daryl… “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, wrapping your hands around your empty drink glass.

She nodded. “You do. But it’s alright.” She sighed and studied your face again. “He helped us.”

Now your eyes met hers. She took another long drag on her cigarette. “When D and I escaped with Tina. He helped us even after we tied him up, threatened to kill him… he helped us. And we screwed him,” she said softly. You could tell this was weighing on her heavily. Her face contorted a little with emotion.

You didn’t say anything. What was there to say? You still wanted to kill Dwight for what he’d done, what he was doing to Daryl. Sherry’s remorse didn’t change that.

That night, when you got back to your room, you were sick in the toilet and sat on the floor, curled up, crying until you had nothing left. Eventually, the pain faded into numbness and you turned the shower on as hot as you could stand it and stood beneath the jet of water for a long time.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Joey!” you called, smiling widely at him as he came toward you down the hall. “I have a favor to ask you. That is, unless you’re too busy,” you said, making sure you batted your eyelashes at him.

“N—no. I was just—I’m not too busy. What is it?” he asked eagerly.

“Well, I wanted to move around some of the furniture in the seating area in my room but I just can’t do it myself. Would you mind helping me? It doesn’t have to be now,” you said, stepping closer to him and reaching out to smooth the collar of his button-up shirt.

He gulped and seemed stunned, unable to talk for a moment. “I—I—I can help you with that now,” he stuttered out.

You grinned widely at him. “Oh, thank you so much! Just this way,” you said, leading the way back to your room. It was working. You needed to turn up the heat a little bit. You wanted to keep him off-balance, oblivious, distracted. You stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him after he entered. He was nervously shifting his weight, his eyes fixed on you. “I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable,” you said softly. “Being in my bedroom. Just don’t say anything to Negan or he’ll get jealous,” you said, winking. You went over to the bed and sat down, reaching down and pulling off your high heels, making sure to move slowly. You tossed them to the floor and straightened up, closing your eyes and rolling your neck from one side to the other, sliding a hand down the side of your neck. “Mmm. Those heels are torture,” you murmured.

He cleared his throat, wide-eyes still staring at you like he’d never seen a woman before.

You smiled at him and hopped off the bed. “Thanks again for doing this,” you said. “If you could just move that couch over there, and switch the chair and the end table I think it will be perfect.”

Fat Joey nodded rapidly and started trying to heave the couch to one side. He was huffing and puffing, becoming a bit red in the face when you slid in close next to him, bending down so your face was right next to his and pressing your hands onto the arm of the couch that he was pushing on, making sure to brush your finger against his. “I bet we can do it together,” you said, cultivating a dewy expression on your face.

“W—What?”

You giggled and rolled your eyes. “Move the couch, silly!” you said, playfully hitting him on the arm. God, even pretending to be this vapid was making you hate yourself.

“R—right. Yeah.”

You both pushed again and when the couch finally started to move, you pretended to slip on your bare feet and brushed against him as you slid to the floor, laughing. He didn’t feel that you had swiped his set of keys as you fell.

“I’m such a clutz!” you said, taking his hand as he helped you to your feet.

“Are you alright? Your ankle—do you need to go see the doctor?” he asked urgently.

You waved him off, rubbing your ankle and flexing your foot. “I’m fine. I’m completely fine. But I think we’ll take the universe’s hint and just leave the furniture the way it is,” you said with a laugh, again catching his eyes and smiling. “Thanks anyway, Joey. I do appreciate it.”

“Oh—okay. Yeah. Sure. Anytime. Let me know if you ever need anything.” You smiled at him and batted your eyelashes one more time before he left. As soon as the door was closed, you rushed to it and locked it.

You withdrew your hand from your pocket, staring down in disbelief at the wad of keys in your palm.

You collapsed backwards onto the bed and clutched them so tightly they cut into your hand.

And then more waiting. Based on the laps you’d been doing around the building late at night, you knew Dwight wouldn’t sleep, but he would be ensconced in his room with the television up loud. And you knew who else was on duty, made sure it was the pair of guards who usually fell asleep at their posts by 3 am.

The upper floors of the Sanctuary were quiet as you slipped out of your room. You hugged the wall, one hand in your pocket, clutching the keys, and the other on the strap of the small bag you had slung over your shoulder. You got to the first corner and peeked around. Empty. You turned. You slipped past Dwight’s door, glancing back over your shoulder in paranoia, half-sure he was somehow going to just know what you were up to.

A few more anxious moments passed as you slipped through the halls but you finally arrived at the door. You were so close. You had spied on Dwight enough to make sure you knew when he usually checked on Daryl. Night was a safe bet. There were fewer guards on duty on the upper floors at night. Most of them were pulled off for the factory floor and perimeter or were otherwise off-duty.

Your heart was pounding so loud you thought half the floor would hear it.

You withdrew the keys as quietly as you could. At first, when you had swiped them, you wondered exactly how you would know which key was the right one—there were too many to try each. You’d certainly be caught if you had to be in the hall that long, fitting every key on the ring into the keyhole. But Fat Joey had done the work for you again.

Apparently, he had a hard time remembering which key went to what, and so he had labeled them. The one to the door of Daryl’s cell was labeled with a #2, matching the number on the door. You were almost lightheaded as you slipped the key into the lock as silently as possible.

Inside, Daryl shot awake where he was huddled in the corner, dozing purely out of sheer exhaustion. He heard the key sliding in and the click of the pins. His heart was immediately pounding wondering what new hell was in store for him now. He had no concept of time in the blackness they kept him in. He assumed it was morning and that Dwight would appear and chuck a dog food sandwich at him like he always did.

But something about the way the key had sounded when it went in was odd… and so was the silent pause before the door handle started to turn excruciatingly slowly.

Daryl steeled himself for whatever or whoever was coming, pressing his back hard against the wall behind him, staring into the darkness, his arms pressed tightly across himself protectively. In keeping with the strangeness, the door began to open at a snail’s pace. Daryl squinted as the dim light in the hallway filtered in. He had a hand up to shield his eyes when the crack revealed you kneeling on the other side of the door. Your face desperate and frantic as you looked in at him.

Daryl’s jaw dropped open and his chest heaved as he took in shuddering breaths, staring in disbelief that you were there in front of him, so close and opening the door of that hellhole. Alone. Just you.

You slipped through the door and into his cell, closing the door softly behind you and returning it to darkness. You could hear Daryl’s ragged breathing in the pitch blackness. Before he could say anything, you grabbed onto him. You threw your arms around him where he was cowered on the floor, kneeling in front of him. You pulled his head against you and he pressed it into the crook of your neck. He didn’t resist. He fell into you. You pressed your hand gently to the back of his head, smoothing his hair. “Daryl…” you whispered to him. “Daryl. You’re okay. Thank God. You’re okay.” You whispered it over and over like a mantra. His name leaving your lips was maybe the most wonderful thing he had ever heard. You could feel him trembling, hear his shuddering breaths, feel the wetness of his tears falling against you. “It’s ok. It’s alright. I’m right here. It’s gonna be okay.” You were struggling to hold back your own tears. His hands, which had been tightly crossed over his chest flew around you and clung to you, smoothing over your back and feeling every angle of your shoulder blades, the curve of your spine, tangling his fingers into the ends of your silky hair as much as he dared, clutching to you. He again really thought perhaps he’d finally cracked and maybe this wasn’t happening at all, but your hands found the sides of his face in the darkness, even then wiping his tears gently with your thumbs, so light it could have been a breeze, and it rooted him in reality. This was real. He was reeling with the implications. “Just—just a moment. I’ve got—I brought—”

You dug a hand into the bag you had brought with you and pulled out a towel, which you laid across the bottom of the door to block the light from the next item you retrieved from your bag. You pulled out a small camping lantern and turned it on. The sight of you immediately brought Daryl to tears again and for a moment you just looked—you just looked and looked at each other. You grabbed his face in your hands again, being careful to be gentle and mindful of the bruises and cuts. His eyes closed at your touch. He’d had no physical contact with anyone that wasn’t just sheer violence since he’d been taken. Your hands on him were like medicine and he felt ten times stronger instantly. You shut your eyes too and pressed your forehead against his. “It’s okay. It’s alright,” you breathed. His hands clutched to your shoulders and his chest heaved again with shuddering breaths. “Daryl…” You pulled back from him with some effort and looked into his face again. You brushed his hair away from his cheeks. It was hanging in dirty strands, sticking to the wetness left from his tears.

That was when Daryl’s shock waned and he felt the rising creep of humiliation, embarrassment, guilt… God, you looked so beautiful, even there in that fucking hole by the light of a tiny, shitty lantern and he was a filthy disaster. He was like trash someone had discarded… and yet you were touching him with kindness and affection, no care for how dirty he was—he was overwhelmed again and couldn’t meet your eyes any longer. He was struggling with never wanting to look away from you but also feeling unable to hold your gaze.

You saw the change happen and smoothed your hands down his arms. You turned your attention back to your bag and pulled out a canteen full of water for him. “Go slow, okay?” you said, as he desperately grabbed it and drank deeply. “And here,” you pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a cut-up apple. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t get more this evening without drawing attention but—”

He hadn’t said a word to you yet and his voice was hoarse from disuse. In that place he would go days without speaking, maybe longer even… He cleared his throat and tried to swallow the scratchy feeling.

“This is—more than enough,” he rasped, hungrily devouring your offerings. “You’re the one who’s been slippin’ me food.”

You nodded.

“Ya shouldn’t. Ya could get caught.” You watched him with a sad smile and moved beside him so you could press against him better without his bent knees in the way. You just needed to touch him, to remind him that there was more than this place, to show him you were there for him. To prove this was real, to him and to yourself. Your shoulders were pressed together.

He kept stealing tiny glances over at you while he ate and you could practically hear the wheels in his head turning. When he had finished eating and drinking, he fidgeted and stretched his legs out in front of him. You could tell he was purposely not looking at you. You knew something was on his mind and that he was working up to speaking it aloud. Finally, he did.

“What happened? How are—why are ya here?” he asked. “Did they find you in Alexandria? Did—how?”

You studied his expression. He turned his blue eyes to you again and you saw worry and fear in them. “No. They don’t know that I have any connection to Alexandria, and it needs to stay that way. We don’t need to give them any more leverage than they already have.”

“Then, how?” he asked again.

You averted your eyes away from him now. You knew he wouldn’t take the next bit of news well. “I—I came back. I told Negan I made a mistake running away and that I wanted to be here.”

A shadow darkened his face. “What did he do to ya?” His chest was heaving again, this time in anger. His eyes were whirring over every inch of you that he could see, looking for evidence that you were hurt.

“Nothing. He—he didn’t do anything.” You stared down at your hands.

“Why are ya here? Why d’you come? After everythin’ ya told me—” His questions were desperate.

Your brow flickered down momentarily in confusion that he even had to ask that question. “I came to get you out.” Your eyes searching his face in disbelief that he didn’t know. You sat up on your heels, kneeling beside him again. “Daryl, did you really think we would just leave you here? Did you really think I would? I know what happens in this place.” He had a tortured expression on his face. “Nah. Not like this. Ya gotta go. Ya gotta get out. You can’t be—ya can’t let him—” His face screwed up as the image of you kissing Negan flashed in his mind. He knew what you being his ‘wife’ meant. “Nah. It ain’t worth it,” he argued harshly, his voice raspy. “It ain’t worth that.”

“Yes, it is,” you said forcefully. “Don’t you get it? You are worth it.” Daryl could see tears glistening in your eyes again but you blinked them away. “I’m not leaving you in here. It’s done, Daryl. It’s done. I’m already here.” The muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. “Hey. Look at me,” you said. His eyes found yours again and you studied his face, reaching out gently to clasp it again. You traced a finger along his jaw, grazing lightly over the stubble there. “I’m getting you out of here.” The feeling of your hands on him was like a tonic for all his pain.

He looked away, ducking his head in that way that was so Daryl. You cleared your throat and dropped your hand to his arm. “Alright. Tell me. How are you? Rick said you were shot or something… And you’re obviously beat up.”

“M’fine,” he said. “Doctor’s been treatin’ me.”

“Let me see.”

Daryl begrudgingly pulled down the neck of his sweatshirt and you lifted the gauze pad taped on his chest to look at the wound. It looked okay. No infection. You smoothed the bandage back over it and nodded. You adjusted his sweatshirt and pressed your hand flatly against his chest. You could feel his heart beating hard beneath your fingers. Daryl felt warmth spreading out from your touch. You examined the bruises on his face and you knew there were surely worse ones beneath his clothes. “Are you hurting? I found some painkillers,” you said, digging in your bag. His hand closed gently on your wrist.

“M’fine. Ya should go before we get caught.”

You didn’t want to leave him. The last thing you wanted to do was return him to being alone in the darkness there. He could read it on your face.

“S’okay. Just—just seein’ ya, talkin’ to ya is enough,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

You threw your arms around him one more time, pressing him into you. His hands were strong against your back, stronger even than they had been when you first hugged him, and you squeezed your eyes shut. As you pulled away, you smoothed your hands over his hair and brushed it away from his face one more time. You clasped his face and pressed a kiss to his forehead and another to his cheek. Daryl reeled at the action before you tore yourself away from him. He felt speechless. He knew he was a complete mess. It wasn’t like they were letting him bathe or clean up regularly… And still you had just pressed your soft lips to his skin. You were brushing his dirty hair aside. “Okay,” you nodded, gathering up what was left of what you had brought him. “I’m working on a plan to get you out. But it’s going to take me a little time. Just—just hang in there. Don’t do anything rash. I need you in one piece.”

“Where’d ya get the key?”

You held up the ring of keys and showed him. “Keys. All of them.” Daryl’s brow contracted with worry. “Nothing to worry about it. I pinched them off of Fat Joey. I think he has a crush on me,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. “He’s too scared and too incompetent to know. He probably just thinks he lost them and I’m guessing he won’t tell anybody because he’s afraid of what will happen if he admits it.”

Daryl nodded. “Alright.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow if I can.”

“Nah, don’t—”

“I’m coming, Daryl, and you can’t stop me.” You gave him one last look and clicked off the lantern, grabbing the towel you had used to block the light and stuffing it back into your bag. He heard you shuffling in the dark and then saw the expanding sliver of light grow before it was blocked out as you left. You glanced over at him once more as you left, a sad smile on your face. The door shut quietly behind you and he heard the key turn in the lock.

His cell had never felt so empty, so dark, or so silent.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl dixon series #sacrifice

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fijiangecko · 4 years ago

Text

The End of It All

Vampire!Katsuki Bakugou x Witch!Reader

WC: 6k+

Warnings: Cussing

Angst - breakups and makeups

A/N: I wrote this over two years ago and just found it. If I decide to edit it I’ll post that one on my AO3, or if people ask me to post it here I can <3

~~~~~~

The idea of a calamity had never even crossed their minds until a couple of days ago. Everything seemed to be harmonious between the humans and the supernaturals, but never in a thousand years could they guess just how wrong they were. In a matter of days, war had broken loose between the few humans who knew of the other world, and the extremists of the supernatural that wanted only bloodshed. The Negotiator was notified immediately, and brought a group of friends onto the scene. It only spiraled from there.

Mina and Uraraka sobbed into one another as it dawned on them that very soon everything they loved could be eviscerated, while Kaminari and Kirishima attempted to soothe them as the night went on. Midoriya and Iida ran around searching for books that could possibly lead to a solution, but there was no manual on how to fix the destabilization between the supernatural world and the human one. Todoroki sits in a chair by him lonesome, contemplating if he should leave, while Katsuki has the same thought on the opposite side of the room as he leans against the doorframe.

“Do you think we should try (Y/N) again? She might pick up this time,” Iida flips through a tome as he speaks, eyes glancing at Midoriya.

“I don’t think we should. Last I heard from her she was going to visit the harpies, and if her phone went off during that meeting then we could be royally screwed. They could have a solution, so I think it’s better if we just have faith and-” “Have faith?! That’s your shitty advice?!” Katsuki growls from across the room, a deep scowl decorating his features. “We all know damn well that (Y/N) could have ditched us and left the world for dead! She’s a fucking witch and doesn’t give a shit what happens to the rest of us as long as it doesn’t fucking bother her!” His fangs started to grow as he spoke. During his little outburst he had walked over to the table and slammed his hands down, putting more emphasis on the cuss words than anything. “She. Doesn’t. Give. A. Shit. About. Us.”

“You shouldn’t say that about her, Bakugou. We know you have a past with her, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to forget about the rest of the world. She’s not that petty.” Iida is calm as he speaks, making sure not to make eye contact with the vampire, as it could set him off even further.

“You see her as a friend, and I see her as a lover. She’s a completely different person, I can promise you that.” A low growl had escaped Katsuki’s lips after he spoke, but his ear twitched as he sensed movement outside. Looking out the window, he saw no branches move, but a bright light shone through it.

Todoroki gets up and inspects the outside of the estate, careful to not move the curtains too much. He didn’t want any uninvited guests knowing what room they were in. As he stared outside the glass, he could see an alchemy circle burned into the grass with your figure lying in the middle of it. Your body is in a fetal position, as if trying to protect something. Upon seeing this, Todoroki bolts out of the library without saying a word and goes out into the cold night. Katsuki runs after him to see what was going on with the rest of the party in tow.

The stream of people watched as Todoroki made no hesitation to pick you up bridal style from the ground and carry you back to the house. In your hands is an old book; its sides were ripped apart and there was a lock preventing it from being opened. The bind had decorative gold inlays, but no title. As of now, Todoroki did not care for the book, but the girl he carried in his arms.

“She’s breathing,” he looked to Uraraka, “and will most likely need medical attention.” With nothing left to be said, he walks briskly into the house and finds the nearest couch. Uraraka follows him and starts to check on you and perform a series of healing spells.

Kirishima, Mina and Kaminari walk back inside and sit near the other three, but make no move towards them.

“Is there anything we can do?” Mina’s quiet voice pierces the thick coat of silence around them.

“Right now I don’t need anything, but stay put just in case there is an emergency,” Ochako’s eyesight don’t leave your figure once. The party of four sits behind nod silently and watch as she works..

Outside, Iida and Midoriya are trying to figure out what the alchemy circle means. Not everyday does someone use such powerful magic to teleport, let alone a witch who prefers not to use alchemy at all. They carefully examined the etchings in the ground, the symbols older than anything they’ve had the chance to work with. Katsuki stood a couple of feet away, also trying to figure out where the fuck (Y/N) teleported from.

“Well this symbol means ‘ancient’ and this one over here means ‘creature’, but there’s one in between…” Midoriya pulls out his notebook and starts to sketch the symbols down.

“This is definitely from a different plane of existence, but I’ve never seen it. Is this from her personal dimension?” Iida spoke.

“No, it’s not. Her sigil phrase would be ‘nisi rogatus non transient’ and her keyphrase is ‘fiducia’. Plus there aren’t enough swirls in the alchemic circle to fit her personal taste,” the blonde grumbled. His eyes fixed over the old text, but this language was way before he turned into a creature of the night.

“Did (Y/N) use alchemy way back? I haven’t seen her use it in decades,” Iida ponders out loud.

“Doesn’t matter. Shouldn’t you be fucking figuring out what this shit means?” The two nerds nod and walk quickly back into the library where they begin a whole new search. The vampire slowly approached the living area where his once lover was lying on the couch with a fairy over her form. A glow erupts from Ochako’s hands as she tries to wake you up. Again, Katsuki leans against the door frame, eyes carefully watching what was happening.

He couldn’t help but feel concerned; he never truly got over you, no matter how poorly he acted. Remembering everything you had, everything you lost and the times he wished he had spent with you only caused his cold heart to clench in pain. What if I had been there when she asked? Would things be different? Does she still care? His mind raced with a thousand different thoughts. This was, afterall, the first time he had seen you in almost a century after one of the worst breakups to ever exist.

Long story short, he was more focused on hunting rather than your relationship, so you decided to give a dangerous alchemic spell a shot after having no one to talk sense into you. Bakugou doesn’t know what kind of spell you were trying to cast, but he does know that it caused some sort of damage to your magical force. He wasn’t there during the ritual, but showed up at your hut months after the disaster. You had looked sick, as if death’s grip was starting to drag you down into hell, and before letting him speak you told him to leave, and never come back. After hours of screaming and bickering, he left. Not once did either of you try to speak to the other, but you both knew you were in the wrong. Katsuki wasn’t there for you, but you blamed him for your dangerous actions, which was in no way his fault.

Nothing brought him joy after that; not the hunt, not the warmth of another. Nothing. For almost a century he felt empty. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to embrace you in his arms once again. Take you away from everyone and keep you to himself, but he knew that it simply wasn’t going to happen. He knew he had fucked up and is now trying to find a way to fix it. Not in a century had he been this close to you, and it was slowly taking away his life force. For all he knows, you’re in a coma caused by the harpies and have no way to save the world - or you found a way to save the world and sacrificed yourself. Either way, someone has hell to pay.

“Bakugou!” Ochako breaks his train of thought, her eyes screaming concern. “I need ice, her ribs are broken.” Standing up straight, he swiftly walks to the kitchen and retrieves the ice, taking a plastic bag and some paper towels.

“Thank you,” the round faced girl was sweating at this point, tired from healing but knowing that she couldn’t stop anytime soon.

“Guys! We found out what (Y/N) was doing!” Midoriya races into the lounge, holding several books within his arms. “She was trying to make contact with the Great Ones!” He flipped open some of the books, showing different languages and sigils.

“Why the fuck would she do that?! Wasn’t she going to see the harpies?” No one needed to look to understand who was speaking.

“I contacted the harpies, and they said she did speak to them, but only for a short time. They didn’t have anything that could help, so she left in a hurry.” The green haired male put his books down on the nearest surface and flipped through a particular book. “They did say that she bought some mandrake liver, which is odd considering it’s very expensive and very hard to come by, but I guess if she made contact with the Great Ones it makes sense. No one has been able to talk to them in years, not after they cut themselves out of the supernatural. If (Y/N) actually talked to them, then she is the first person in a millenium to ever see or speak to them. It’s a miracle she’s even alive.”

“Yeah, they almost fucking killed me.” You start to rise from the couch, rubbing your temples as you do so. “Think I could get a glass of water, my throat is fucking killing me.”

“You’re up! And so quickly!” Izuku stared in amazement at the girl who not only escaped death, but talked to some of the oldest beings in the universe.

“Yay, lucky me.. Can I just get some fucking water? Don’t mean to be rude, but I can feel my broken ribs and my dry ass throat so a little help would be appreciated.” Dry as ever, you spoke to no one in particular as you lean back into the couch and press the ice bag into the ribs that are broken. “Could someone grab me some rat tails, lavender powder and milk from the toad? Should fix these ribs real quick…”

“On it,” Mina hops up from her seat and runs off to gather what you asked.

“How are you feeling? Besides the ribs and headache.” Ochako reaches for your hand, taking it into her own.

“Pretty good, actually. Great Ones offered some knowledge, albeit for a price.” Peeking an eye open, you gaze at your peers.

“Did you find the answer?”

“What ‘price’?” The negotiator and the vampire spoke at the same time, both asking valid questions but concerned about different matters.

“Cool your jets, besties,” fangs bared, Katuski growled at the thought of being “besties” with a fucking nerd, “I need to heal up before I start spilling the details.” Just then, Mina runs back into the room, all three ingredients in hand along with a mortar and pestle.

“I got the stuff! What do I do now?”

“Now, you hand it all over and watch a witch work her magic.” Your greedy hands swipe the contents of a healing elixir and begin to mash everything together. Tediously, your fingers throw components into the mortar, then pressing them together with the pestle makes a liquid in which you drink in one big gulp. The group watches as your ribs emanate a sickly light, making the room glow in a mysterious manner. After about five seconds, it stopped and you stood up to stretch.

“Much better, now how about we go into the library so we can examine this,” you wave the torn book, “and figure out how to save the world.” Moving forward, you give them no time to answer. It gave them no choice but to follow you.

“Would you at least answer my damn question?” Katsuki remains in the doorframe, unmoving from his comfy position..

“How about you move out of my fucking way, and go to the library like I said? Maybe you’ll get your answer there, huh?” You shoulder check your way out of the lounge and into the library.

After everyone takes their places in various spots around the library, you begin to speak.

“I want to apologize for being so late, after I said I was only going to the harpies. Turns out, they don’t have much more information than mine and Midoriya’s libraries combined. Right as I was about to leave, Tokoyami said there might be one more group I should go see. He pulled me into his private room and gave me the liver of a mandrake as well as a page from his personal grimoire. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but it was the alchemic way to reach the Great Ones. We talked for a short time after it about how to approach them and what would happen if they did or did not decide to help. Knowing we’re getting short on time, I did the ritual right there in his room, and low and behold I was taken to a dimension far outside our normal planes of existence. It was cold, dark and dank with a stench that rivaled the odors of giants. My senses were being attacked in the most foul of ways, but that was the least of my concerns as I was met with the eyes of not one, but three of the Greats.” You shudder at the memory. “When they spoke it was deafening. I felt like I was going mad, or at the very least I was losing all sense of control. They knew why I was there, and decided that it would be more beneficial to help me, as what is going on now also affects them.” You cast your gaze downward, whispering the next sentence. “They agreed to tell me what to do only if they were given a sacrifice-”

“EXCUSE ME?!” Bakugou roared from the other end of the room. “YOU TOLD THEM YOU WOULD SACRIFICE SOMEONE?!”

“Kacchan-”

“YOU DON’T GET TO SPEAK, DEKU. SHE IS GOING TO SACRIFICE SOMEONE! SHE DECIDED TO TRADE ONE OF US OFF FOR THE ‘GREATER GOOD’! THIS IS WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU ASK A GOOD FOR NOTHING WITCH FOR HELP! I TOLD YOU IT WAS A MISTAKE TO ASK HER FOR HELP!”

“I NEVER SAID IT WAS GONNA BE ONE OF YOU.” The commotion stops. All eyes are now on you. “I never fucking said it was going to be one of you, I didn’t even finish what I was saying…” Your eyes look down at the shaking in your hands.

Todoroki reaches forward and takes your hands in his own, stopping the tremble that has overcome you. “Go on.”

You take a deep breath in, “Like I was saying, they asked for a sacrifice of a magical being, but one of great power so the balance in the cosmos would be right. I tried to ask them what the requirements were for ‘great power’, but I received no answer. Instead, this book,” you put it down on the table, “appeared in my hands. Next thing I knew, I was on the couch…”

“So you don’t know how to unlock the latch on the front?” The green haired boy slides the book to himself, examining it with a sense of importance.

“No, but I have a feeling I’m the only one that’s going to be able to open it.”

“Why is that?”

“I mean, I’m the first person in forever to even see one of the Greats, let alone live from an encounter with them. If I’m not able to open it, then no one can.”

“Okay, well are there any keys that you have on you now? Maybe it’s the same one as your house key or lab key?” You shrugged and pulled out a set of keys from your pocket. Immediately you noticed one that hadn’t been there previously.

“Or the one that just happened to appear…” Inserting the key, and twisting it releases the metal strap on the bind of the book. It makes a soft clicking noise as it opens. Greedily, you opened up the pages to see what they held, only to find them blank. “What the fuck?” Aggressively, you flip through the whole thing until you find one page where a plethora of information was held.

“Is that it?” Iida was peaking over your shoulder. In fact, the rest of the party had gathered around the table to see what was going on. Well, everyone except the blonde haired, red eyed vampire.

“It has to be. This is the only marked page.”

“Well, it seems to be in celestial. Can you decipher it?” You cock your eyebrow and turn to Iida.

“Is that a question?”

“Hey, less flirting, more reading,” Kaminari spoke.

“That wasn’t flirting, but not like you would know.” He jolts back at the sudden attack, feigning a hurt look. Small chuckles could be heard around the room, but they died down as everyone anticipated your analysis.

“It’s a ritual with both alchemic and abjuration magic,” your eyes continue down the page, trying to make sense of all the scribbles, “but it looks like there’s only one ingredient.”

“Let me guess, a sacrifice.” Red eyes bore deep into your figure as Katsuki spoke.

“...yeah.”

“And where the fuck are you going to find some ‘great magical being’?” His teeth are showing as he scowls once more. It may have been years since he’s seen you, but he knows what you’re thinking.

The knuckles on your hands start to turn white from the frustration that was building in your chest. You weren’t intending on telling everyone how you were going to let yourself be sacrificed in the name of Great Ones. You wanted to keep it a secret from them, but Katsuki could see right through you.

“I don’t know.”

“FUCKING LIAR!” He crosses the room with lightning speed and wraps his hands around your neck, crushing you into a nearby bookcase. Your vision is white for a split second, but returns to see a face with nothing but disgust across its features. Gasping for air, you attempt to pry his hands off of you, but it wasn’t worth trying as you knew the kind of strength Katsuki possesses. “I know what you’re planning to do! You want to kill yourself because some old ass supernaturals want you to, but I’m not gonna let that fucking happen.” He slams you into the bookcase once more after seeing your eyes start to drift off. “Do you hear me?!”

“Bakugou, get your hands off her now!” Iida, Todoroki, Kaminari, Kirishima and Midoriya run over to the scene and start to restrain Katsuki. They struggle to pull him back, but after a few seconds of letting you go, your whole body drops to the floor and your lungs start to gasp for oxygen. While you are coughing, Mina and Uraraka latch onto your sides and help you up. Now sitting down, you cough trying to catch your breath.

“What the hell were you thinking dude?! You didn’t even let (Y/N) fucking speak?!” Kirishima’s speech was a low growl, his eyes turning from the normal black color into a more yellow, dog-like eye.

“I’m not going to let her fucking die because she thinks she is self righteous. She’s not more important than any of us, and if she thinks so I’ll kill her myself.”

“How do you know that?! How do you know that she wants to sacrifice herself?! How do you know that she thinks she’s better?!” Kiri stops, waiting for an answer. When none presents itself, he continues his rant. “You don’t know what is going in her head! So stop assuming you know stuff that we don’t!”

“Kiri, stop before you make a fool of yourself.” Gently, you put your hand on the shoulder of the raging werewolf. His eyes fade into the black abyss they once were. All eyes were now on you, “Katsuki’s right. I was going to sacrifice myself…” several gasps were audible in the thick silence, “but not because I think I’m better than anyone here. We all are powerful in our own regard, but I’ve been alive for twelve hundred years. If anyone of us is going down, it’s going to be me.” Scoffing, Katsuki barges out of the room, unable to deal with the level of bullshit he just heard. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe he was powerful, or anyone else in the room (he wouldn’t say it outloud), but he couldn’t believe that you were willing to give up on yourself to save the world. Did you not see how important you are? Whether you knew it or not, he cared about you and he didn’t plan on letting you die anytime soon.

The tension built itself around the room as the still airwaves remained unchanged. Not even breathing could be heard. Standing up from the table, you put the chair back into place and made a grab for the book, but someone stopped you.

“No,” green eyes bore into your own, “you’re not taking it. We’re locking it up. There has to be a different solution.”

“There isn’t! We’ve talked to everyone we possibly could have and no one else thought of anything! For fucks sake Midoriya, I had to talk to some ancient beings to get a hold of this spell and almost died because of it! I’m taking what’s mine!” With both hands, you yank it from his grasp.

“I said no (Y/N). We’ll find another way. There has to be another way-”

“There’s not! What is so hard to understand! The clock is ticking and it’s only a matter of time before it all turns to shit, might as well fix it now and get it over with!”

“(Y/N), just give me the grimoire. Don’t make this any more difficult than it needs to be. No one here wants you to die, and we’re not going to let you! Just pass it over.” Conflicted, your white knuckles loosen on the rough leather and place it down on the table. Without looking at anyone, you make your way to a spare room and sit on a bed, thinking about what else there was to do.

Hours passed as you thought about the end of it all. There is no other way for this to end. The fucking Old Ones said that this way the only way possible, so it has to be right? We exhausted all other resources: the scripts from Alexandria, my personal collection, Izuku’s personal collection and the harpies. None of us had anything. Your foot was tapping against the floor anxiously. If I could just get the pages from the book and get back to my place then it could all be over. None of them would have to worry anymore. It’s been a couple of hours… maybe they’re asleep. If I take it now and make a run for it, I’d have at least a couple hour head start. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about someone trying to stop me…

With a gameplan in mind, you stealthily make your way out of the room, creeping around as silently as possible. Passing a few other rooms, the snores of several companions reassure your suspicion. Now was the time to strike. Trying your damnedest not to make the floor creak, you tiptoe through the house to the library. You’re assuming it’s still there, but they could’ve removed it. Too busy focusing on trying to make a sound, you didn’t realize the pair of blood red eyes that closely follow.

Upon reaching the library, your eyes land on the old leather cover that lies exactly where you last remember. Swiftly taking it from its place and reaching for its key, you took the latch off and ripped the single page from its binding. As you did so, a knocking noise was heard from the entrance, but looking at it didn’t give you an answer. Everything was where you left it, but the uneasy feeling of eyes on you causes a thought to cross your mind. Am I being followed? Shoving the spell into your pocket, you glanced around one more time to make sure no one was there.

“O custos revelare,” voice barely above a whisper and clutching the necklace of the triple goddess, the knowledge of Katsuki’s watchful eyes on you entered your consciousness. Great, just what I needed. How the fuck am I supposed to leave now? Maybe if I trapped him somewhere that he can’t be heard, or if I place a silencing spell? No, he’ll still be able to get someone’s attention. Best shot I got is to lure him out of earshot from the others and place a trapping spell, but that requires time… Fuck! What the hell am I supposed to do?!

Quickly trying to recover from the stream of thoughts, you make your way to the attic. This should be far enough from the others. If he screams up here they shouldn’t hear him, especially with all the fabric. Now how do I get the circle in place? ...goddamnit why the hell can’t my brain think of something? Abjuration? No, that’s later. Conjuration? No. Divination? No. Evocation? No. Necromancy? What the hell, no! Transmutation is a no go as well. That leaves alchemy, enchantments and illusions. Alchemy takes too long, so that’s out of the question, and Katsuki can easily overpower my enchantments. So illusions it is.

Katsuki watches as you stumble your way up a couple flights of stairs, trying so hard not to alarm anyone of your presence. He couldn’t help but feel amused at your little act. You just look so cute acting like a rogue trying to steal their first jewels. On the other hand, he couldn’t believe that after the outburst he had and Deku’s own freakout you still were going through with your plan. Do you not care about him? Do you seriously not realize just how important you are? Of course he’s gonna stop you; the minute you stormed off he knew there was a plan being formulated.

Shattering glass littered the stairwell as the nearest window blew inward. Immediately, Katsuki checks for intruders and looks down the stairwell to see that the other windows have been broken in as well. Peering up, he doesn’t see your figure any more and begins to panic. With his enhanced speed he runs downstairs and starts to sniff out anything suspicious.

Leaving the crystals in their place to keep the illusion going as long as possible, you could care less about making much noise. Bolting up to the attic, you shut the door behind you and took out a pocket knife, working on a trap, or abjuration, spell. The intricate carvings were taking longer than you thought, and the panic of being caught was causing you to slip up.

“Shit! Fuck!” There’s no time left! Once again grabbing the necklace of the goddess, you start reciting a simple fire spell and start to burn the lines into the wood floor, being careful not to burn the house down.

“Adolebitque imperium.” A small flame danced around the floor, as if following a line of gasoline. It wasn’t even a flame, but looked like the end of a stick of incense. The small embers made their way around the room, carving out sigils and words. Trapping a vampire was tough enough, but with Katsuki’s strength and will it was going to be even worse.

Back downstairs, Katsuki stalks the main floor, careful not to alarm something that could be in the house. His nose isn’t picking up on anything out of the ordinary, but he got the feeling that it was all a ruse. Looking around more only confirms his suspicion as he noticed no other windows were broken, and when he got back to the stairs those windows were put back.

“That sneaky little-” his feet pound on the ground as he makes his way to your location. “I can’t believe she- what a little- UGH!” He fells dumb. He knows your magic, but he couldn’t even figure it out on first glance - not like he used too, that is.

Reaching the top of the stairs and closing the door, he tries the doorknob, but to no avail.

“(Y/N) open the door.” No response. He waits a few seconds until he tries again. “I swear to fucking God (Y/N), open the goddamn door or I will break it down.” Pressing an ear to the door, he listened to double check he was in the right area. After hearing some shuffling on the other side, his fists pound against the door. “I can fucking hear you, you know!” When no response came, again, he grabbed the door knob and snapped it off like it was a candy cane. “I’m coming in so don’t fucking attack me!”

You stand by an opened window, wind softly blowing through your hair and the moonlight highlighting your face in all the right ways. If only someone had a camera, this shot could make “Time” magazine. Katsuki’s breath was taken away at the scene; you looked so serene and just as beautiful as the day he met you. Although his heart wasn’t supposed to be beating, he felt as though it might leap out of his chest and run into your arms. You turn slowly, to face him with the ripped pages gently folded between your fingers.

“Hand it over. We both know I’m not letting this happen.” He inches closer in the room, about a foot away from the carvings on the floor. You just need to provoke him further, but the look in his eyes was killing you. They weren’t like anything you’d ever seen come out of Katsuki; even in the most intimate of moments. They screamed desperation but remain firm.

“It’s the only way, and you know it.” Eye contact hasn’t broken once since he bust the door open, but it only intensified as you speak.

“I don’t fucking care if it’s the only way. You are not dying for this, for these people! We both know what kind of shit the world puts us through and you want to put your life on the line for them. For those BASTARDS!” Screaming, he moves another few inches forward, eyes pleading for you to give in. “WHAT HAS THE WORLD EVER DONE FOR YOU?! BESIDES PUT YOU DOWN AND BEAT YOU TO THE CURB?!”

“It showed me you. Didn’t it?” The question startles him. You were the calm to his storm, the yin to his yang and yet… he didn’t want to admit that the world actually did him good.

“No. I gave myself to you. I wanted to be with you. I loved you. I still love you. Can’t you see this is fucking killing me?! Can’t you see that I just want to be with you?! CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I WANT YOU BACK?! THAT I WANT TO WAKE UP TO YOU WITH ME EVERYDAY?! WHY THE FUCK CAN’T YOU-” He didn’t realize he had closed his eyes with rage, and that you had made your way across the room to him. In the middle of his rant, you placed your soft hand on his cheek, caressing his face. Instinctually, he presses his cheek further into your touch, opening his eyes to meet yours. It felt like he had just had a sip of water after a centuries-long drought; this was something he didn’t acknowledge that he needed so badly, but now that it was happening he only wanted more.

“That day that you left, I was broken. For years I was only half the person I once was, and it was because I didn’t have you. I thought that you hated me, and never wanted to see me again…”

“I could never hate you,” he grabbed your wrist, “not after everything we’ve been through. Not after our sleepless nights of talking, the years of moving around and the fact that you’re the only person I’ve ever been myself around.” He sighs, the whole ordeal becoming emotionally taxing. Not once did he ever open himself up to anyone; not after you. It was hard enough for you to crack him, but once you two were through, he built up walls of steel. “I never stopped loving you. You are the only one for me. You’re the only person willing to put up with my bullshit and able to control my temper. Even if you are a damn witch, you’re my damn witch.”

Tears start to haze both of your visions, but you give in, letting them cascade down your cheek. Heart clenched, ready to burst, you enveloped yourself in his scent, embracing him like your life depended on it. He quickly returns the gesture and places his head in the crook of your neck. The two of you stayed like this for a moment before gently rocking back and forth. Slowly, you inch him closer to the abjuration spell.

Goddess, what have I done to deserve this? Why do I have to be the one fucking person he loves but also the one person that can save everyone from certain doom? Why am I just getting him back now, right before the end? Crying harder, you push yourself further into his chest. He didn’t take this as “out of the normal” because he thought you were still crying over him; that’s not saying you weren’t, but other thoughts were on your mind. Your body still moves closer to the circle, pulling Katsuki with you. What the fuck (Y/N). You could’ve just placed the circle and left, but no. You had to stick around and make everything 1000 times harder.

The sound of wood burning turns Katsuki’s attention to the ground, where he sees the sigils recarve themselves into the floor. He was flabbergasted, the breath knocked right out of him.

“(Y/N)...?” His voice was weak as he spoke, as if pleading for this to be a dream and not the hell he was about to go through.

“I’m so sorry. I wish there was another way but there isn’t and I just-” He releases your hug, his body going rigid as he starts to piece it together.

“You tricked me… after everything I said and did, you trapped me. You’re gonna fucking kill yourself and you trapped me here so I can’t stop you.”

“There’s no other way. The Greats said that it had to be a powerful magic user, and we both know Izuku, Iida, Todoroki and Uraraka don’t make the cut. The harpies don’t have anyone as powerful as me either and it doesn’t look like we’ll be finding anyone powerful within the next couple of days. I can end this now. The panic, the worry; it could all be over with tonight.” You step out of the circle, grabbing the instructions from your pocket and holding them to your chest.

“You decided that instead of staying with me, you’d rather die. Am I hearing this correctly? YOU WOULD RATHER NOT EXIST THAN BE WITH ME?!” He ran up to you, but the invisible barrier holds him from reaching your body.

“Don’t. Don’t make this about you. This is about more than just us and it is definitely about more than what we had forever ago. I’m fucking sorry neither of us got our acts together in time, but the balance of nature needs to be set anew. If I had known that you still loved me, that you still cared for me, then yeah, this whole situation might’ve turned out differently. But the fact that it took us almost 1000 years to get our shit together and talk to each other says a little something. Maybe we’re both too headstrong to be in a relationship. Hell, that’s how the last one ended! So don’t you dare make this about you, because there are so many other people that I love and want to look out for than just you. The world is counting on me because if I don’t do this, then the world as we know it won’t be in existence within the next few days.” You turn to the window, taking a deep breath and slowing your rapid heart rate.

As you approach the window, you mutter “revertetur in terram suam” and the forest around the house transforms into the inside of your bedroom. Once more, you took a deep breath to ease the pain of leaving everyone behind.

“Tell them I love them, and I did it for the best.” You walk over to Katsuki and rip off your triple goddess necklace, offering it to him. “I know you’re not religious, but it’s a piece of me. So you don’t forget.” Reluctantly, he reaches out and takes it, examining it with a furrowed brow.

“I would never fucking forget…” it was barely audible, but it made your heart flutter.

“I love you, Katsuki. Even if it seems like I’m betraying you, I want you to know that I hope you find someone who loves you and can crack that barrier over your heart.” Walking over to the portal, you utter one last sentence, “Please take care of yourself,” and then you’re gone.

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