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honeypiehotchner · 4 years ago

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you’re still a traitor (Hotch x Fem!Reader) — one shot

This is all angst because my brain wanted to write something based off “traitor” by Olivia Rodrigo 🤭🤭🤭

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, mentions of excessive drinking as a coping mechanism, no happy ending (and no there won’t be a part 2 soz)

Hotch Masterlist || Main Masterlist

brown guilty eyes and little white lies i played dumb but i always knew

Your relationship with Hotch wasn’t even a real relationship. Not in hindsight, at least. At the heart of it, though, as it was happening, it felt real. It felt more real than anything you had ever experienced.

Nothing was glorified, over-exaggerated, or unnecessary. You’ve always been a straight-to-the-point person, and so has he, so it struck neither of you by surprise when you began spending nights together on cases.

The tension between the two of you had always been high from the day you started at the BAU. He blames it on the skirt you wore to the interview. You blame it on the way he looked you up and down every chance he got.

No wonder he didn’t look surprised to find you on the other side of his hotel room door.

That first night you had said something stupid, something about the girls being lame and going to bed early. But the truth was that they were raiding the minibar, and as much as you wanted to join them, you wanted to see Hotch more.

You knew he didn’t sleep much. It wasn’t hard to conclude, not with his recent divorce, late hours, entire pots of coffee to himself, and dark circles under his eyes.

Not to mention, of course, the small throw pillow and blanket that magically appeared on the couch in his office one day.

You weren’t surprised when he opened the hotel room door, still fully dressed, minus his jacket. You were barely a fourth of a way through your explanation for turning up at his door when he pulled you inside, lips bruising yours and hands gripping your skirt.

To him, it was always the damn skirt.

That night was the first of many. No one knew. No one knows now. Hotch continued to book you a room of your own, and you continued to spend your nights in his bed.

You mastered the art of sneaking to his room after everyone was in, and sneaking back to yours before anyone woke up.

Occasionally, you’d stay back at the BAU until everyone had left, just to spend a moment more with Hotch.

loved you at your worst but that didn’t matter

No one knows this, but you’re the reason his dark circles left. The reason he didn’t stay as late anymore. Because you always coaxed him away, wanting dinner, or even just company as you walked to your car (where you’d then ask for dinner, or rightfully point out that he’s already at the parking garage, so he might as well go home).

Dinner one night turned into almost every night, except when he had Jack. Sleeping in his bed once became almost every night, except when Jack wanted to spend the night.

A label was never spoken about, but you never felt the need to speak about it. As far as you were concerned, you were the only one he was sleeping with and vice versa. Why did a label matter?

That’s what you told yourself, at least. Labels didn’t matter to you. Exclusivity is all that mattered, and you had that. You thought.

You had suspected Hotch started seeing someone else. But all you had was a gut feeling, and a feeling isn’t enough evidence.

i kept quiet so i could keep you

Soon it wasn’t just a feeling. Soon Hotch didn’t want to go to dinner anymore because he was leaving earlier than you — earlier than anyone else. Soon he started actually leaving for lunch on his lunch hour, and that’s when the rumors started swarming.

“Okay,” Garcia ushered everyone over in the bullpen. “Is. Hotch. Dating?”

Rossi chuckled. “I. Don’t. Know.”

Morgan shook his head. “Nah, that sounds like he knows something.”

“Not really,” you shrugged. “Why do we think he’s dating someone?”

“Are you kidding me?” Garcia gasped. “He just left the building on his lunch hour! I’ve never seen him leave for lunch the entire time I’ve been here.”

“Me either,” JJ agreed, to your horror.

“Maybe it’s just something with Jack,” you shrugged again, not even aware of your defensive tone.

Prentiss narrowed her eyes. “Do you know something?”

“What?” You blurted, eyes wide. “No? Am I supposed to?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Reid pointed out lowly.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you said. You grimace, thinking about it now, but you didn’t have any energy then to know it was rude. Or to care.

You were paranoid. Horrified. You were in Hotch’s bed two nights ago, and now he was leaving on his lunch hour, and you had no idea what for. All signs pointed right where the rest of the team was thinking, but the thought made you sick.

So sick that the next night, when you found yourself once again in Hotch’s bed, you brought it up.

You tried to be nonchalant. You don’t know where it went wrong.

ain’t it funny? remember i brought her up and you told me i was paranoid

“How was lunch yesterday?”

His eyebrows furrowed. Something you used to gaze at in awe, but in that moment it made you panic. “Lunch?”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “You left for lunch and the whole team thought something was up.”

He merely hummed. Hummed. That was his reply.

“Emily thought I knew where you went,” you continued, tracing circles on your arm. Normally, you’d trace circles on his chest, but that felt wrong all of the sudden. “I told them I didn’t and they didn’t believe me.”

He chuckled quietly. “I went to lunch. That’s all.”

“With who?” You asked, far too quickly. Maybe that was your mistake. You were too accusatory too fast.

“Did it have to be with someone?” He retaliated, and looking back now, you see this moment here, this was the downfall.

“I mean,” you paused. “You normally stay in your office if you’re eating alone. I figured if you left then you were going to meet someone.”

“Oh.”

You hesitated. “Did you?”

“Yes,” he finally said, ripping the Band-Aid off once and for all. “Her name is Beth. But we’re just friends.”

You nodded. “You sure?”

He turned on his side then, facing you with his head propped on his arm. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I’m curious.”

“You’re never curious.”

“You never leave the office to meet someone for lunch.” Especially not a woman, unless for whatever reason, Haley wants to have lunch and brings Jack, but the last time that happened was seven months ago, back when they were still trying to be friends after the divorce.

“I’m allowed to meet friends for lunch.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t,” you replied, probably too harshly. “I just meant...I don’t know what I meant.”

you gave me your word but that didn’t matter

Weeks passed by and you watched Hotch leave every now and again to have lunch with Beth. He never explicitly told you that it was Beth he was meeting every single time, but you knew. You always knew.

Because the look he’d give you as he’d close his office door, phone in hand no doubt to send a text to her, letting her know he was on his way. The look he’d give you said it all.

You knew the end was coming. Truthfully, you knew the end of the two of you was coming from the first day he met her for lunch.

You had never seen him as happy as he looked when he came back. And with every lunch date, it got worse.

Yet, for some reason, he still invited you over. And for some reason, you still agreed without hesitation.

February came and your heart broke with it.

You knocked on Hotch’s office door, bag in hand, the question of dinner on your hopeful lips.

“Can we talk?” He asked, speaking before you had a second to breathe.

You nodded, stepped inside to your demise, not even bothering to sit down. You knew it wouldn’t take long, and it didn’t.

Two sentences. That’s all it took.

“I don’t think what we’re doing is something I want long-term — for me or for you. I think it’s best if we go our separate ways.”

For me or for you. He was always thinking of your well-being. It always annoyed you.

“Okay,” you had said, cracking a small smile to hide the pain. “Fun while it lasted, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. “Well, have a good night. See you tomorrow.”

You couldn’t hold the tears in and they flowed freely before you were even out of the bullpen. You were thankful everyone had left. Imagine the explanation you would’ve had to conjure up. The web of lies he would’ve forced you to spin in five seconds.

Instead, you had to spin an entirely new web. All to explain why you weren’t sleeping, why you were drinking more, why you looked like you had cried all night the next day (you said it was allergies and insomnia; Morgan was the only skeptical one, but he let it go).

it took you two weeks to go off and date her

The real ending came when Valentine’s Day arrived. You were foolish to think he’d spend it with you, but you still did.

The jet landed back in Virginia after a long case, and you thought for sure Hotch would tap you on the way off of the jet, ask you to dinner, then back to his place, just like you did last year.

But he had made plans. With Beth.

You were delusional to think otherwise, but still, his smile cut right through you when he told Rossi he had plans.

guess you didn’t cheat but you’re still a traitor

Derek, Emily, and Penelope wanted to go out for drinks and you were the first to agree, ready to forget the past year of your life.

Thankfully, you didn’t spill any secrets while drunk. You did confess to going through a breakup, but not with Hotch. No one will ever know it was Hotch. The “he” in question will forever remain a mystery to them.

Meanwhile, you watched Hotch fall deeper and deeper in love. He decided to run a triathlon, and he trained every morning -- with her. He left for lunch almost every day to go eat -- with her. He never stayed late, he always had plans -- with her.

He hardly ever spoke to you anymore. And you never spoke to him.

It became an unspoken agreement for you to leave finished paperwork on his desk without a word (if he was in there) or better yet, to drop it off while he’s at lunch.

You sleep in the hotel room furthest from his every case.

The seats next to him on the jet are off-limits and you’ve even gone to make a shitty cup of shitty coffee before to avoid him (and everyone knows you hate the coffee on the jet).

You somehow managed to never meet or hear about Beth until the triathlon — and you were apparently the only one who hadn’t met her yet.

Jack hugged her immediately that day. He had already warmed up to her and it made you want to claw your heart out.

Beth is nice. Beth is an angel. Beth is older, prettier, everything you knew Hotch wanted and wasn’t getting from you.

She shook your hand with a smile, none the wiser to the fact that you’ve slept with Hotch more times than you can remember. That your heart belongs to him even though you don’t want it to. Even though you want it back.

now you bring her around just to shut me down show her off like she’s a new trophy

Once you met Beth, it seemed like she was everywhere. Visiting the office, bringing Hotch lunch, bringing Jack in to visit, having coffee with Hotch in the cafe you used to frequent, at Rossi’s for family dinner nights. Everywhere.

Worst of all, at JJ and Will’s wedding.

You weren’t the only one to show up without a date, yet you felt like it. Especially when Hotch arrived with Beth on his arm, glowing like always, with Jack holding onto his hand.

You avoided Hotch all night — Beth too, but mostly him — yet he somehow managed to find you alone in the kitchen.

The wine was your saving grace of the night, and he happened to walk in as you were pouring another.

“I can hear your liver screaming from here.”

A poor attempt at a joke, really. Maybe it was funny. But you didn’t laugh. “I’ll survive” was your dry reply before downing half the glass.

His face looked softer, but you know now it was the wine in your system.

“You look good,” he had said. “How are you doing?”

You stared at him. “Fine. Thanks.”

You don’t know why he kept trying to have a conversation with you. You felt insufferable and you see now that you were, but it’s all his fault.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You chuckled dryly. “Not with you.” You paused. “How’s Beth?” Paused again, this time to bring the wine glass to your lips. “How’s a real relationship working out for you?”

Hotch’s face fell. “What we had was real. You know that.”

“I know it was,” you replied. “But do you? Do you really?”

He didn’t answer. His silence was all you needed.

and i know if you were true there’s no damn way that you could fall in love with somebody that quickly

You left him standing there in the kitchen without another word. You had nothing left to say to him, and he clearly ran out of words for you.

Derek found you halfway to the dance floor.

“Woah, I don’t like that look,” he said, taking the wine from you. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Let’s dance instead. Come on.”

You drug him away, meeting Penelope and Emily for the next song. You danced, you cried, you blamed the tears on the alcohol in your system. You slow danced with Emily, Derek, Rossi, narrowly avoided Hotch by swinging into Spencer’s fumbling arms.

No one knew. No one would ever know.

you betrayed me

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner songfic #traitor olivia rodrigo #aaron hotchner angst #angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds songfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #you will not find a happy ending here #oops

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

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Deadbeat Pt. 3

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter introduces some new plots and conflicts, so it jumps around a little more than the previous ones.

I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter.

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two

Henry Curtis was one of the most infuriating people Lee had ever met. Curtis was a writer for the Columbus newspaper and constantly pestering the Sheriff. Curtis seemed to have a sixth sense for whenever the Sheriff did anything. He was desperately trying to catch the Sheriff doing anything but so far had remained unsuccessful. Curtis was the biggest obstacle Lee faced in winning re-election. The man would show up out of nowhere, pen and pad in hand ready to find anything that would be enough to keep the Sheriff out of office.

Maybe Curtis was just doing his job, but Lee always felt like it was much more personal. It was probably just his own resentment of the man who was just doing his job. But the man didn’t have to be so goddamn invasive. When the Sheriff had devised his plan on offering to rent a room from you, he was so tied up in his own mess of divorce and his somewhat confusing feelings towards you he had completely forgotten about the press. They would have a field day with the divorce alone, but now on top of everything else, Lee knew he should be more careful.

Lee always had to be careful, especially if he was meeting Leroy Brown. Lee would make sure he drove way out of town, and always insisted they met at a different location every time. This would infuriate Brown but Lee was the only lawman he had working for him. Sometimes Lee would drive several hours out of the way, always at some deserted ghost town or some sad excuse for a diner or a bar. Always somewhere no one would recognize him.

Lee lied to you and told you he and a few of the deputies would need to drive out of town for a stakeout when he needed to meet with Brown. It was one of those nights, sitting in the cruiser with the headlights off, as he parked in an abandoned parking lot almost two hours out of town.

He had been able to put this off for a couple weeks, lying about other legitimate jobs getting in the way. Honestly, it was because he wanted to one, avoid anything that would cause suspicion from Henry Curtis hearing he was back in town and two, he was selfishly allowing himself to just spend his nights at his new home, spending all the time he could manage with you. It was like being in that little white house was a place where he could let himself be delusional, and time spent with you was what his life actually was, not this mess he was currently dealing with. He wanted out.

Lee knew he wasn’t a good man. He knew that his laundry list of offenses had tarnished his badge a long time ago. He knew what he was doing, and before he never cared. Now, he’s thinking about how his actions could affect you. You were innocent, unaware of everything he was stuck in. He knew you weren’t stupid, and he was sure the town knows some about his corruption. But now, he couldn’t rationalize away his actions for any reason when it came to you. Janie? She didn’t care and would encourage it. She’d be in on it too. She’d have no problem lying to ladies at Church or starting other rumors to keep the town talking about anyone but Lee. She was as power hungry as he was sometimes, which could be a testament as to how their loveless marriage held together for so long.

***

“Hi, I’m looking for a Ms. (Y/L/N)?” the man asked when he approached you, talking a seat at one of the barstools.

“Who’s asking for her?” you asked raising an eyebrow.

“I’m Henry Curtis, I work for the Columbus Dispatch.”

“The newspaper?”

“That’s the one.”

“Why are you looking for her?”

“I’m doing a story on her mother’s marriage to Harvey Tucker.”

“She’s not here tonight. But I can let her know you were here. Do you got a card?”

The man pulled out a business card from his wallet and slide it across the bar. You picked it up and read all the information before putting it in the pocket of your apron.

“Seems weird for the Columbus paper to want to do a story on that a month and a half after it happened,” you said skeptically.

“We did cover the story when it happened,” Curtis informed you. “Doing a follow up since the story broke about his wife missing.”

“Missing?” you ask. “Do they know what happened?”

“Robbed the bastard blind and then ran apparently,” Curtis said casually looking past you at the chalkboard on the wall. “Scotch, neat.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, grabbing the bottle from the shelf. “Has anything else been found out yet?”

“Not yet, that’s why I’m here. Checking in to see if she’d come back here because I heard Ms. (Y/L/N) still lives around these parts.” He then pulled a newspaper out of the inside pocket of his coat and started flipping through the pages.

“She has another kid too, right?” you asked, playing dumb. “A boy, I think. Do you know where he is?”

“Couldn’t say,” he sounded very indifferent, “Most likely went with her but who knows? I went to the Sheriff’s office to see if they knew anything but the Sheriff wasn’t there.”

“That’s too bad,” you say. “I’m sure Sheriff Bodecker would help you help if he can.”

Your statement made Mr. Curtis chuckle, but you didn’t follow up on it. You were just focusing on getting as much information about your mother and brother as you could.

“Speaking of Mr. Bodecker,” he began, “I recently saw his wife is getting remarried. Saw the announcement of the engagement in the paper.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” you respond, skeptically. You didn’t know why but you didn’t trust this man. It was something in the tone of his voice, or maybe it was just how he held himself. Very polished, a suit and a nice dress jacket. He looked very out of place in this town, and this little bar.

“You familiar with the Sheriff at all, miss?”

“Not too well,” you shrug, “Haven’t had any run-ins with the law myself.”

“Not even a speeding ticket?” He asks, only a little condescendingly.

“Can’t get a speeding ticket if you don’t have a car,” you point out.

“Touché,” he chuckles before taking a sip of his drink.

He doesn’t ask you anymore questions, and when he leaves, he gives you a five-dollar tip.

***

Lee receives his cut from Brown. There was nothing new to report on that front and his meeting went by smoothly. All Lee had to do was to turn a blind eye, and make sure the rest of the department stays unaware of the brothel’s existence. Brown always insisted on meeting with him, wanting to know what the Sheriff’s department was investigating and making sure his businesses stayed under the radar. He felt sick, and is preoccupied with the fact he has an envelope of dirty money in the cruiser’s glovebox.

It’s around midnight when he pulls up to the house. He expects that you’re already asleep, but he notices the lamp is on in the living room. He takes the money out of his glovebox and tucks it away into the inner pocket of his jacket. Coming inside, he finds you on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the business card Mr. Curtis had given you. You face is stained with dried up tears, and you still haven’t even changed out of your work clothes.

“What’s that?” he asks, the sight of you breaking his heart. He winces because he comes off a lot harsher than he meant.

“Some reporter came while I was at work wanting to talk to me,” you explain softly, you sound exhausted. “Wanted to talk to me cause he’s doing a story on my mother. Apparently, she’s on the run from the Columbus police.”

You extend your hand to give Lee the card. He feels his jaw clench when he reads the information. “What happened?” he asks, taking a deep breath and sitting down next to you.

“I pretended I wasn’t me,” you say, another tear rolling down your cheek. “He came in asking for me so I said I’d pass his card on. I didn’t want to tell him who I was because he didn’t explain why he was looking for me at first. I don’t know- just scared me. I’m more upset about the news itself than him.”

“You did the right thing,” Lee said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder comfortingly. He was angry, but he didn’t show it. It worried him, fucking Curtis snooping around this close to you. It made him feel protective, wanting to shield you from the whole ordeal. He had been on the receiving end of unsolicited attention from the press and he knew how ruthless they were. He knew this wouldn’t be the only time Curtis would try to get in touch with you. He’d find out where you lived, he’d continue to show up while you were working- the whole nine yards. He didn’t want you going through that.

Curtis talking to you also made him incredibly paranoid. It was his two worlds that he desperately wanted to keep apart were colliding. He knew it was impossible, but he so wanted to keep you separated from the other part of his life. It wasn’t who he wanted you to see. Hell, he hasn’t even been here for a month. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep you in the dark, at least that wasn’t entirely intentional. Actually, he wasn’t sure, maybe it was intentional. However, it wasn’t just you he wanted to hide aspects of his life from. He wanted his involvement with Brown and others hidden from every goddamn registered voter. You were no different, he tried to rationalize. But that wasn’t true. These feelings he harbored for you, were getting worse. He needed to unwrap himself from this situation, and for the sake of you finding out he was a shill, keep you away from that asshole. He didn’t want to let himself think about how the way you look at him would change.

And here he was, making the situation all about him. It was in his nature.

“He’s just going to show up again if I don’t call him,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Maybe I should just call him in the morning. Just be honest and say I don’t know anything. He can keep coming around but nothing is going to change.”

“I can take care of it,” he says. He couldn’t risk you talking to Curtis again. For all he knows, Curtis would tell you all about the story on the Sheriff he’d been trying to confirm for years. Lee knew he couldn’t let that happen. He fully intends on telling you, but how the hell do you bring that up? ‘Hey doll, I’m also on the payroll of every pimp and bootlegger in a ten-mile radius, just letting you know.’ It wasn’t going to come up, unless Curtis tells you about it. He’d be hoping to pull himself out if it, show you how you made him want to be better.

For now, he settles for comforting you, and just being there to take care of you. Make you feel better. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and lets you cry into his chest. He sighs, kissing the top of your head in a friendly way and you curl up against him. Under different circumstances, you probably wouldn’t have let yourself do this- show your vulnerability or allow anyone to comfort you like this. But it was all the events of the past month, your mother leaving, everything, just all hitting you at once, and you were happy you weren’t alone.

In the morning, you wake up on the couch with a blanket over you. You see Lee asleep in the chair, and you realize he stayed with you all night. It makes your heart flutter. You pull the blanket up over your chin and close your eyes again. You felt surprisingly well rested. The stress and worry were pushed to the back of your mind long enough to let you get some sleep. It still lingered in the back of your mind, but you reminded yourself that for now, there was nothing you could do. You had the day off, and you let yourself have a little longer time to sleep in.

You woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and the sound of sizzling on the stove. When you opened your eyes, Lee was no longer in the chair. You sat up and looked toward the kitchen, where you saw Lee with his back to you while he worked with the pans on top of the stove. The portable radio was positioned on the counter, and it was playing at a low volume, so it wouldn’t wake you up.

“Hey,” you say softly, still waking up as you walk into the kitchen.

“Morning, doll,” he says, glancing back at you for a moment. “How’re you feeling?”

“A little better,” you admit, grabbing a mug for yourself out of the cabinet. You pour yourself a cup of coffee, savoring the smell before making it how you usually take it. “Thank you for sitting with me,” you say honestly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” he says with a small grin. “I just wanted to help.”

“I really appreciate it, Lee,” you reiterate your thanks, hopping up to take a seat on the counter, watching him cook breakfast. “Didn’t know you knew how to cook,” you joke, making him chuckle.

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart,” he smirks, making you feel flushed. You take another drawn out sip of your coffee to try to distract yourself. You watch his arms, and his hands as they maneuver and flex when he cooks. You imagine how they must feel, your eyes focused on the veins. You bit your lip and it reminds you of the dream you had a little while back when he first moved in. You imagine him stepping in between your legs as your propped up on the counter, his hands gently gripping your thighs and-

“I’ll get it,” you announce hurriedly as you hear someone knock on the front door. You hop off the counter careful to not spill your coffee, and head to answer the door. Lee watches you bounce out of the room, fixing your hair as you go and you don’t catch his smile.

“Arvin,” you say surprised, stepping out onto the porch. “What are you doing here?” you ask, with a small grin. You’re confused but nonetheless happy to see him.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” he observes, concern written all over his face.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say dismissively, “Just last night I was thinking about my ma and everything. Just had trouble sleeping is all.”

“The Sheriff didn’t do anything?” Arvin asked in a hushed tone, looking over your shoulder to see if Lee could hear you two.

“No, nothing, he’s been perfectly fine,” you say coming to the Sheriff’s defense. “I know you and Ms. Russell are worried, I know how it must look- but Arvin I swear he’s just my tenant. He’s been nothing but a gentleman.”

“Just making sure,” he says, letting it go for now. “Lenora asked me to bring these by for you.” He hands you the glass baking dish that you can see is filled with homemade cinnamon rolls. “She’s been practicing making all kinds of baked goods for when the Church does that bake sale and has me running all over town giving it away cause me and Uncle Earskell can’t keep up with it all.”

“Tell her thank you for me,” you say with a smile, “And I’ll bring the dish with me to Church tomorrow- give it back to her.”

“She misses you I think,” Arvin says sheepishly, pushing his hands into his front pockets. “I mean- I do- I think my whole family does- we all do. I’m sorry my grandmother hasn’t asked you over in a while…”

“I understand,” you nod. “Reputation is an important thing.”

“I just didn’t want you to think it was because of us,” he says looking down at the porch, his eyes fixed on a loose board. “You know how she is- everything no matter the context is somehow a sin. Scared to death of her own shadow…”

“I know you’re not that resentful, Arvin Russell,” you chuckle and he relaxes. “And I don’t hold any hard feelings towards anyone in your family- you all have always been good to me.”

“Well, um,” he says awkwardly, looking like he was holding back from saying more. “I got to hit a couple more houses before I head to work, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Church?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Oh- I wanted to let you know,” he says, turning around as he’s already heading down the front steps, “The principal down at the high school is looking for secretaries- Lenora heard and thought you might be interested. It pays like $35 a week, I think. You should call Linda Carson; I think Lenora said- that’s the woman who’s in charge of hiring people, I think.”

“I’ll call the school first thing Monday morning,” you say, grin stretching from ear to ear. Arvin nods and says goodbye again. You walk back into the house like you’re on top of the world. You couldn’t contain your excitement. That job if you could get it would be a dream. You’d be making so much more than you’re already making. You were so excited.

“You’re in a much better mood than when I last saw you,” Lee jokes. He’s sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper while he eats his breakfast. You notice that he made you a table setting- brought your coffee over and everything. You place the baking dish in the middle of the table and sit down.

“That was Arvin,” you say happily, and Lee feels his heart sink into his stomach.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, trying to not let on how his heart feels like it’s crushed. He knew it was only a matter of time before a boy would come around- whether it be Arvin or someone else your own age.

“Well, first he was just dropping off baked goods Lenora made,” you say gesturing to the dish on the table. “He’s going around to everybody, I guess. He mentioned the high school is looking for office secretaries- Lenora wanted me to know. Thirty-five dollars a week! I’m going to talk to Linda Carson about it Monday morning. Can you imagine? I could get a secretary job.”

Lee feels just a crash of relief wash over him. He’s so happy that you are looking at a new job. You deserve better than that bar. He knew you deserved the job just as much as any of the other candidates. You work harder than anyone he knows.

“That’s fantastic, sugar,” he replies. “You deserve it.”

“Do you think I have a chance?” you ask, feeling a little self-conscious- you knew you weren’t as experienced as other candidates would be for sure.

“Of course, I do,” he says, putting down the paper to give you his full attention. “I feel like you getting this job is a definite. There’s no doubt about it.”

“You’re just buttering me up,” you scoff, finishing up your food, making him chuckle. You may have also seen his cheeks redden, but you couldn’t say for sure. You finish off your coffee, and then bring you dishes back to the kitchen, leaving them in the sink. Lee turns his attention back to his newspaper and you head upstairs to get ready for your day.

When you head upstairs, Lee notices that you took the radio with you- and he could hear you were listening to music from upstairs. He decides before it’s too late to ring Mark Cunningham. The line rings a couple of times before Mark answers.

“Cunningham.”

“Morning, Mark. It’s Sheriff Bodecker,” he smirks.

“What can I do for you Sheriff?” he asks, the sound of shuffling paper comes through as well. Most likely flipping through the paper.

“I wanna call in that favor you owe me,” he says, casually pacing the living room, holding the receiver up to his ear and the base of the rotary phone in the other.

“Of course, Sheriff,” he says. A while back, Bodecker busted the principal making moonshine in his old barn that was at the end of his property. Lee looked the other way and was waiting for the right thing to call in a favor for.

“I want you to hire (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for the secretary job,” he says, looking to the stairs, making sure you aren’t coming. The music is still playing loudly from upstairs so he determines he’s still got time.

“That’s all?” Mark asked surprised.

“That’s all I want from you,” Lee replies. “I expect you can make that happen?”

“Without a doubt. When can she start?”

“Still have her come in for an interview. I don’t anyone else knowing I called you about this- including her.”

“Done.”

With that, Lee hangs up the phone, feeling really good about this decision. He knew how much that job meant to you- he could see it in your eyes and how excitedly you talked about it. He can’t wait to see you when you find out you get the position. He knows it’s going to make you so happy. He knows you’d be a fantastic candidate, but this just eliminates any doubt. He reasons that there isn’t much difference, since you were very likely to get it anyways. He just had to make sure.

He can picture you know, coming home from the interview- excited to tell him that you got the job. You’d be so excited you’d jump up and hug him tightly, just so overjoyed that you let your feelings take over. You’d wrap your legs and around his waist and he’d hold you up by holding the back of your thighs. You’d wrap your arms tightly around him and bury your head in the crook of his neck. You’d lift your head up to look at him, embarrassed at your actions and then he’d press his lips to yours. You’d gasp softly, but your lips would melt against his own and your arms would wrap tightly around his neck. He’d walk forward, pressing you up against the wall and he’d kiss your neck mumbling praises of congratulations against your skin as his name falls from your lips at how good he’d make you feel. It’s almost unbearable how bad he wants you.

He heads to him room to get ready for his day, but his mind is still clouded with thoughts of you. He thinks about how much he wants nothing more that to just pin you on his mattress. He wonders if you know how crazy you make him. Sometimes there’s something in your eye that makes him think you want him too, but he’s not sure. His better judgement holds him back from everything he wants to do. He thinks about how it must feel to have his head right in-between your thighs. Back in the kitchen together, he wanted to just get on his knees and worship you. The feeling of them pressing against him as he sucks on your clit and runs his tongue across your folds.

Serval hours later, he can’t shake the thoughts, even sitting in his office at the sheriff’s station- working on a Saturday yet again. He’s cooped up in his office, unable to get through any of the paperwork that has piled up on his desk. He’s thinking about you, again, but in this daydream, you’re bent over his desk- because you came by to see him on your break from work at the school. His office door locked and his blinds pulled so he can bend you over and take you right there- rough and fast, sending you back to work with a feeling of him still there between your legs well after you’re back at your own desk, still sore from the encounter.

“You got a visitor, Lee,” the intercom on his desk lights up.

“Send ‘em in,” he responds back, shaking his head to snap out of it. He needed to get a grip.

“Sorry I didn’t call,” you say, walking into his office. His eyes widen and he wonders if he’s still day dreaming. He discreetly pinches himself. You’re actually here, standing in his office, while he looks at you dumbfounded. Part of him would think he manifested it if he was a man of any faith. “You forgot this,” you say, putting his wallet on the desk. “You must have taken it out of your back pocket before falling asleep in the chair last night. It was laying on the coffee table. I figured I’d stop by with it while I was coming up this way anyways.”

“You’re a doll,” he grins, putting his wallet in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

“I took the bus to the library to return some books, and now I’m going shopping for something to wear when I go in for an interview since I have the day off to go,” you explain. “I’m also probably going to get lunch after that before heading back home. I just didn’t want to be home in case that reporter stopped by. I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

“I can take care of it,” he says, “He’ll make his way over here soon enough. I can talk to him.”

“You would do that for me?” you ask, the relief evident across your whole face.

“Yeah, I can talk to him, let him know you gave a statement here,” he says. You nod. “You know as much as he does, so it doesn’t matter if I tell him you don’t know shit or if you tell him.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you sigh, so relieved thinking that you won’t have to hear from Henry Curtis again. “If he tells you anything about them… will you let me know?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Thank you,” you say, hurriedly walking over behind him and quickly hugging his shoulders. You then are back by the door again before he can register the gesture. “Are you going to be home tonight?” you ask, your hand on the doorknob.

“Not until late,” he says reluctantly, and he can see the disappointment on your face- unless his mind was playing tricks on him.

“Okay,” you say finally, “Um, I’ll see you later then.”

“Bye, doll,” he says when you walk out of his office.

Are you going to be home tonight? Your voice lingers in his head. It was such a harmless phrase that could’ve just been one of curiosity. Maybe you were just asking because you were thinking about what you were doing for dinner. It most likely just meant nothing. But, the look on your face when he said no makes him think otherwise. Did it mean you cared? That you wanted to spend time with him? You wanted to see him and be with him as desperately as he needed you perhaps? Just the phrasing itself makes his brain feel like putty. It’s like you’re waiting up for him. It’s like you share the house in a way that’s much more than just him renting a room from you. It’s like you’re his and he’s yours. It’s like saying our house… our home. The question was so intimate and implied so much more about how you saw him and what he was to you. He knew seeing him as how he saw you was next to impossible, but you saw him as more than the Sheriff and more than just the jerk living in your house.

Part Four

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #smut #the devil all the time #angst #lee bodecker x y/n #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.1k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other.

TW: Kidnapping, Captivity, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Death, Delusional Mindsets, and Emotional Manipulation.

[Part One] / [Part Three]

If you thought about it, you could still feel his hands on your skin.

It’d been hours since you were strapped to that bed, hours since he tormented Katsuki and made you suffer and mistook his delusional, crazed jealousy as love, or something close to it, at least. It’s been hours, and yet, if you closed your eyes, you could still feel his heatless touch, the way his skin seemed to leech the warmth from yours and how no amount of time and shivering could bring back what you’d lost. You’d done what you could to rid yourself of the feeling. After he… finished, you’d been too weak to try to run, and he’d been too love-struck to care if you did. As much as you’d wanted to, you hadn’t resisted as he undid your restraints, as he wrapped you in his suit jacket and dragged you - stumbling and reluctant - through the halls of his bunker.

When he brought you to a bedroom, dark and dim but only half as dirty as the room you’d come from, you hadn’t tried to push your way past him as he locked the door and explained that some of his men were untrustworthy, that ‘Kacchan’ might get loose and try to hunt you down, that the locks were for your own good. You’d flinched as he slid the slick, black keycard into the tiny slit, the one that’d keep you trapped here, the one you should be scrambling to find a way to pick, to break, or smash into such an unrepairable state, you and Izuku would both starve in here together. But, you hadn’t, and you’d lost the opportunity to.

There was a cramped, militaristic bathroom attached to the suite, and you’d stood under the rusted shower-head until the boiling water blistered your skin, then went cold, then went freezing, and you had to get out or face the repercussions of hypothermia. It’d been uncomfortable, it’d been painful, but it’d been a cleansing pain, the kind that cleared your head and made it a little easier to process the world around you, to differentiate what was happening now to what was already over, what you couldn’t change. What had left you sore and bruised and aching, but what you’d survived, and what you would get past, eventually. You’d get back to Katsuki, and then--

Oh, god.

Katsuki.

You’d been moved to another bedroom, but if Izuku had any intention of doing anything his less-favored captive, you hadn’t been able to tell. No, he’d been left bound and muzzled to rot in his own affliction, and if Izuku’s aggressive apathy was sincere, you doubted he’d be treated with much kindness, going forward. It felt wrong thinking about your boyfriend like that, a victim who needed to be saved, someone who needed to be helped rather than the guiding hand you’d always known him as. He was a hero, and you weren’t. He was strong, and in so, so many ways, you couldn’t be. But, he couldn’t do anything heroic while he was restrained from wrist to ankle, so it was beginning to seem like you might have to be--

“Darling, are you alright?”

You stiffed as soon as you heard his voice, going rigid and scrambling for a weapon, a shield, something to defend yourself, but Izuku was already opening the bathroom door, stepping in before you had a chance to make a move. You could only be glad you’d already pulled on the clothes he was generous enough to provide, even if one of his white button-down shirts did little to separate you from his prying gaze. But, you doubted he’d be able to give you anything sturdy enough to block that out.

His expression softened when he saw you, his eyes lighting up with the faint, flickering glow he hadn’t bothered to hide when you first woke up, in his captivity. You tried to scowl, attempting to glare at the barren floor as imposingly as you could manage, but it couldn’t have been very effective. Izuku didn’t hesitate to approach you, to come too close, to think too little, only stopping when he was directly in front of you, one hand cupping your cheek and the other coming to rest on your arm, drawing circles in your bicep as if you were a scared animal that needed to be soothed. You supposed you were. Despite your budding plans, you couldn’t help but shiver so violently whenever he was near enough to meet your eyes, let alone put his hands on you.

He didn’t try to deny it. “Poor baby… You’re still scared, aren’t you?” A small, patronizing smile painted itself across his face, just barely pulling at the corners of his lips. You didn’t nod, didn’t try to answer, but he didn’t seem to need you to, either. With a quiet hum, he continued, speaking more to his paranoia than to yours. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re with me, now, and Kacchan’s going to be taken care of.” There was a pause, a playful wink. As if you should be proud you’d been important enough to earn a few hours of his time. “I’m won’t let anything bad happen to you. Certainly not by his hand, not again.”

You flinched at the mention of Katsuki, and this time, you were thankful that Izuku wasn’t paying attention to you. Not enough to care about such a small show of displeasure, at least. “You’ll take care of him?” You asked, hesitantly, still unsure how far you wanted to push his boundaries. “What do you mean? How long are you going to keep us here?”

“How long am I going to keep you here,” He corrected, softly, just beginning to tilt your head back. He let out a soft chuckle, as if the statement was a joke he’d been telling himself far too long for it to be truly, genuinely funny. “Just you. He’ll be lucky to make it through the night.”

You should’ve expected that. You knew it was going to happen. You knew Izuku had to be planning something for Katsuki, something violent and something inpermanent.

You should’ve expected that, but it still felt so awful to hear.

Now more than ever, you should’ve tried to stay calm. You should’ve been composed, and you should’ve accepted the development with a purse of your lips and strategic silence, the kind that’d mean anything Izuku wanted it to mean. But, he’d just threaten someone’s life, he’d just threatened your boyfriend’s life, and he should’ve counted him lucky you only got mad. It took every ounce of your self-restraint not to lunge at him, consequences be damned. “You can’t do that. You went through the effort of getting both of us, you can’t just--”

“I can do anything I want to.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it the kind of arrogant declaration made by someone with too much power for it not to go to his head. It was a truth, a fact. Or, Izuku thought it was, at least. “He’s been a thorn in my side for decades, and I’ve been much too sentimental when it comes to removing him. He’s a disgrace to the world of Heroes. He’s a disgrace to the world. I can’t justify giving him another chance to root himself under my skin.” A sigh, a languid shake of his head. He let go of your cheek, but having him take up your wrists and press your hands against his chest was only a minor improvement. “If he gets free, he won’t stop until I’m dead and you’re locked away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’ll be lucky to ever see sunlight again. I love you too much to risk losing you, but I promise, I’ll never be half as mean as Kacchan. If someone ever tried to take you away from me, I wouldn’t stop until their head was mounted in my office.”

“If you lay a finger on him,” You spat, fighting the urge not to pull away from him. “I’ll never think of you as anything but a monster--”

You didn’t get a chance to finish. This time, he didn’t let your little show of rebellion slide. Still, you heard the blow before you felt it - a sharp, sterile crack of skin against skin, and then the burning, the flare of heat, a spark that ignited everything from your jaw to the bridge of your nose. It took you a moment to process what he’d done. A moment too long, for such a simplistic offense.

He’d slapped you.

It was so straight-forward, so impulsive, you weren’t sure whether to be angry or afraid or something between, something darker than either emotion could fully cover. He hadn’t hurt you yet, not in a way that’d be so difficult to hide behind a half-hearted justification and an excuse about love or protection or something lovely and rotten. You weren’t sure whether that made it better or worse. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Izuku didn’t seem sure either, if you were being honest. As soon as you moved to nurse your bruising cheek, he was on top of you, one of his arms draped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest, leaving his free hand to card through your hair and flit around the edges of your minor injury, a worried scowl pulling at the edges of his lips. But, Izuku didn’t move to apologize, only attempting to open his mouth before whatever he was going to stay was muted by a grimace - obviously horrified, but far from regretful. When he finally broke the silence, his stance didn’t seem to change. Disappointed, but not shocked. Distressed, but resolute, at the same time.

“I.. I shouldn’t have done that,” He admitted, his posture straightening defensively. He pulled away, slightly, scanning over your face. As if he hadn’t already done so much more to harm you. “You just… you have to understand that this is for your own good, (Y/n). You’re going to be happy with me, I want you to be happy, but you’re going to have to let go of that stain, first. This is what he does to people.” There was a pause, a shake of his head, and slowly, he fell away from you, taking a step back when you failed to react. “He drives them apart. He makes people hate each other. You can’t trust anything he says. Bringing him back to my hideout was a mistake, I should’ve killed him in his sleep - clearly, he’s already worked himself into your brain.” Izuku bowed his head. It was the closest he’d come to showing his remorse, and you had a feeling it was the closest he would come. “I should’ve taken care of this sooner. I shouldn’t have drawn it out. I’m going to take care of it, I will take care of it. I’m not going to let him do anymore damage, not when you’re at stake.”

He turned, starting towards the bathroom door without another word. You didn’t think, you didn’t give yourself time to. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself from faltering, if you did.

Frantically, you stumbled forward, grabbing Izuku’s forearm and taking him by the sleeve, dragging him back towards you. Acidic bile rose in your throat at the thought of giving him what he wanted, but that didn’t stop you from clenching your eyes shut and forcing out the words, regardless of how much they burnt at your tongue. “Midoriya,” You mumbled, fighting not to stutter over such a simple sentiment. “I don’t think I can… I might not be able to… Could you---Could you stay?” Your grip tightened around his wrist, your nails digging into cloth and the thin, pale skin underneath. If Izuku cared, though he didn’t pull away, and you took that as a cue to keep going. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep, alone.”

The declaration was too hasty, too sudden, too flat and too desperate, but Izuku’s eyes still lit up, whatever skepticism he might’ve felt fading into a broad, careless smile. As enamoured as it was entrapping.

“Of course, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

Izuku slept. You didn’t.

You doubted you’d be able to. Even when you tried to relax, when you tried to close your eyes and put on a convincing act, you could never get further than curling into yourself and willing Izuku not to notice the way you trembled despite the humid air, how easy it was to make you shy away despite his touch being relatively innocent, considering what he’d proved himself to be capable of. He’d rambled on about he’d always be there for you, rambling off threats and the mutilations he’d be willing to commit in your name like bedtime stories, but for all his vows of protection and security, he’d been quick to fall silent as soon as he realized you weren’t contradicting him, anymore, his body limp and still half-slouched against your side. His weight was oppressive, and you doubted any amount of rest would aid the dark-bags dyed into the skin under his eyes, but it was fine, it was perfect. If anything, you should be glad he was so exhausted.

It would be easier to pick his pockets, when he was asleep.

It wasn’t a difficult task, something you’d done a dozen different times with drunk friends you thought you could trust with your keys, but you still froze in place every time he made a sound, even as your fingers slipped into his left pocket, the one you’d been staring down since he first showed you this shiny new cage. You went still as he let out a groan, stiffening as he burrowed himself deeper into your shoulder, but you knew you’d get what you want as soon as your fingers brushed against that warm, metallic shape. The key to the rest of his bunker, the key to getting out of here.

The keycard.

Your keycard, now.

Repositioning Izuku to lay against the headboard as gently as you could, you slipped off the cot, your bare feet hitting the pavement floor silently as you found the exit and pushed your prize into its designated slot, your hands steady for the first time that night. There was a small, high-pitched ping, but Izuku didn’t stir, didn’t wake up. You could only hope you’d be out of his reach, by the time he did.

The halls of his bunker were surprisingly empty, considering how expansive Izuku’s organization was supposed to be, but that didn’t stop you from pausing at every turn, holding your breath whenever you heard the sound of another voice, doing your best to imitate the way trained Heroes were supposed to move, when they didn’t get caught. You couldn’t be sure where Katsuki was being kept, hell, you barely knew which direction you should be going in, but there wasn’t much you could do, not beyond picking a hall and hoping it didn’t lead you into the stronghold of Izuku’s labyrinth. You had to be quiet, but fast. You had to be stealthy, but effective. You had to be so, so many things, but…

Apparently you couldn’t be any of those things.

As you moved to round another corner, your back pressed against the wall and heart struggling not to beat any louder than it had to, something latched onto your shoulder, jerking you backward as a hand shot out, sealing itself over your mouth as you haulted, caught between the reflex to scream and the awareness that you shouldn’t attract more attention than you absolutely had to. As a compromise, you didn’t make noise, but you struggled, thrashing and kicking and throwing your elbow into your assailant’s chest, but all your efforts earned were a tightened grip and a soft grunt, throaty but muffled, not meant to be heard.

“Really, babe?” He asked, his voice just as quiet as his sounds of discomfort. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

It took you a second too long to recognize that voice, much lower and much drier than the endearing arrogance you’d grown fond of. The voice you only heard while you were sitting in uncomfortable, plastic chairs beside hospital beds, on the scenes of attacks where the dust had already settled and the medics has long-since finished doing what they could. It meant exhaustion, it meant injury, it meant dehydration and desolation and suffering, but god, were you glad to hear it.

You didn’t even try to hold yourself up, not after you realized how many times you’d fallen into the pair of arms wrapped around you. No, you just went slack, letting a grimy, blood, glorious Katsuki support you as you went slack. It might’ve been the relief. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since the last time you’d seen him, but you'd been so, so worried, and just knowing he was still alive seemed to make all the difference in the world. It might’ve been the stress, the adrenaline, you didn’t think you really cared, not as long as you could twist around and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he pulled you closer, entangling his fingers in your hair and pushing a soft, lingering kiss into the top of your head, his touch so much less preformative than Izuku’s, so much more loving. You wanted to melt into it. You wanted to attach yourself to him and never, ever leave his side again. You wanted him to hold you, and you didn’t want anyone to rip him away again.

But, he was already moving back, taking you by the waist and scanning over you, looking for signs of further abuse. “What happened? Did he hurt you--”

“What happened to you?” It was all you could do not to yell, not to scream. You’d been assaulted, but he’d been cornered, he’d almost been killed. “Midoriya was going to… He made it sound like you were already half-way dead. I thought he was going to get to you before I did.”

“With the weak-ass lackeys he sent to do it? Those motherfuckers couldn’t put a scratch on me, not once the kiddie-gloves came off,” He scoffed, smirking confidently, if only to calm you down. You doubted there hadn’t been a fight, there was always a fight with Katsuki, but if he could brag about it, he could pretend things were fine for a few more minutes, long enough to run and make you think everything would be alright, too. “If Deku could kill me, he would’ve done it by now. You’ve got nothing to worry about, not when it comes to me.”

For the first time since you’d escaped from Izuku’s hold, you let yourself exhale, rigid tension melting off in waves. “Promise?

His grip loosened, but any hope you might’ve lost was quickly restored as his hands fell, taking up yours and squeezing lightly. “I promise.”

There might’ve been another hug, another kiss. There might’ve been one, or their might’ve been many, if you had another minute, another second, another moment. But, all too suddenly, all too realistically, Izuku or some force under his control was determined to separate you, this time in the form of flashing blue lights and sirens so loud, you could hardly hear Katsuki curse as he took up your wrist and started running.

You hadn’t known where to go, but Katsuki seemed to. Whether it was through luck, overheard information, or blind inhibition, he found his way to the exit, or, rather, what you had to assume was supposed to be the exit. You must’ve been underground, because the only way out seemed to be a thin, utilitisic staircase, wide enough for one person and so steep, a ladder might’ve been a more practical choice. The climb wasn’t what concerned you, though, you’d scale a mountain if it meant getting a little further from Izuku, but it didn’t seem like that was a choice you’d get to make.

You should’ve expected it. You should’ve seen it coming as soon as the bunker went into lock down, as soon as you’d been naive enough to leave Izuku alone without slitting his throat, first. It made sense. You hated it, but it made sense.

You wouldn’t make it through, because faster than you could run, a thick metal sheet was sprouting from either side of the doorway, nearly blocking your only way out.

You wouldn’t make it.

But, Katsuki could.

He moved the same time you did, scrambling to get a grip on your forearm as you pulled yourself free of his hold, barely bothering to work your way behind him before you shoved Katsuki through the narrow exit, forcing him through the small gap before he could process what you were doing. He might’ve yelled, might’ve tried to clamber his way back to you, but any sound was cut off by the make-shift door sliding into place. Even if any of his curses or rants or screams made it through the barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. Before you could think to run, before you could think to do anything, something sleek and smooth and strong wrapped around your neck, slamming your back into the nearest wall. A leather glove, as familiar as it was fatal.

You didn’t have to look to know it was Izuku.

You didn't have to, but it wasn’t like he was ever going to give you a choice.

“Congratulations,” He growled, the back of his hand pushing into the bottom of your chin, forcing your head back and keeping your eyes level with his, frozen terror forced to stand on the same ground as swirling, spiraling rage, a lightless flame that burnt at the edges of your vision and made your entire body feel cold. “You saved your boyfriend for a whole three seconds. What makes you think I can’t just send someone after him while I break every single one of your kleptomanic little fingers.”

You swallowed, but you didn’t hesitate. You knew what you were going to say. “You won’t.”

He grit his teeth. “And why’s that, angel?”

“Because if you do,” You started, letting your focus drop to the scuffed cement at your feet. “I’ll never stop hating you.”

There was a disgruntled frown, a move to pull away, but you were the one to cling to him, this time, to throw yourself into his chest and pray he didn’t notice how badly your shoulders were shaking, how much you didn’t want to go on. But, you had to. He’d kill Katsuki, if you didn’t. He might’ve killed you, if you didn’t. “Please, please, just let him go! Do this for me, and I swear, I’ll stay with you.” Izuku stopped, but he didn’t pry you off of him. You took that as a silent cue to continue, to grovel for all your life was worth. “I won’t try to run. I won’t try to fight. I won’t even talk back. You can have me, but you need to let Katsuki go.”

Despite your desperation, Izuku didn’t seem convinced. His fist balled around the collar of your shirt as he tossed a glance over his shoulder, signaling to one of his associates out of the group forming behind him - a brunette on the shorter side, one who looked like she’d just rolled out of bed to run to Izuku’s aid. “Uraraka, get me their file. There could be a quirk--”

“There isn’t.” It was an instinctive correction, albeit one that burnt at the tip of your tongue as you choked it out. “I mean, you shouldn’t bother. I’m… I’m quirkless.”

There was a pause, a recalculation, and for the second time that day, you saw Izuku’s mind work to twist around a piece of new information, his expression softening as he rearranged formless parts into a more suitable, more agreeable whole. One he could accept, one that let him be angry with Katsuki rather than you. It was revolting. It was sickening. It was pathetic, but you didn’t try to push him away as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and burying his face in your hair, insecurities boiling the surface in tandem with the jagged, ugly shapes his delusions were so eager to take on. “Poor baby,” He sighed, the words almost lost to the airiness of his voice. “No wonder you needed to get Kacchan as far as possible, I wouldn’t be able to rest if I was in your position, either. You should’ve said something sooner, I would’ve been able to help.”

He continued to fuss, continued to lament your shared limitations as he pulled you through the forming crowd, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything but how his skin burnt where it touched yours. You wanted to pull away. You didn’t want to let him touch you, you didn’t want to let him pretend he cared about you, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

All you could do was bite your tongue and hope Izuku loved you more than he hated Katsuki.

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fairymadnessyeah · 4 years ago

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Piss Off your Parents

Shigadabi week day 5

AO3 Link

Summary: Tenko is tired of being treated like a kid. He knows that his dad is worried, but he is an adult and it's time his old man understands that. Luckily, he has a hot new boyfriend who is more than willing to help him.

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Civilian / Steampunk / Teamwork

"YOU GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!" Tenko cried as a moving company placed his furniture on the UA teacher's dormitory.

Tenko had always been an unlucky bastard. He was born with a destructive quirk that made him dangerous to others and valuable to villains. Or, more specifically, one villain. All for One. The man wanted to grab hold of him since he was a child and had his first accident with his quirk. He had luckily been found by a hero instead of the super-villain though. Loud Cloud, or Shirakumo Oboro had come across the scared, skinny, bloodied child and helped him out. The two, along with his friends Aizawa Shota and Yamada Hizashi, had learned that he was the grandson of Nana Shimura, the mentor of All Might.

Suddenly, he had gone from murdering his family to being adopted by the cloud hero and gaining three hero uncles and one hero aunt. His life had gone from nightmare to dream-come-true in a matter of seconds. And after years of taking care of him and being the best possible dad he could have asked for, the man who saved him was stabbing him in the back.

"Tenko, this is only temporary," the cloud haired man says trying to calm him down. "You only have to stay here for a few months, until it's safe for you to live alone again," the hero teacher explains.

"I have my own life now, dad. I have art classes and friends and a life outside of UA, unlike you," Tenko hadn't followed on his new family's career. He didn't want to be a hero. After everything he had gone through, he just wanted a simple life. And he almost suceeded.

He might have gone to UA, but only because his father and uncles worked there and he went to General Studies. Once he graduated, he got a scholarship for an Art course of studies in a good university, he sold commission pieces of his drawings on patron and got his own apartment. It was not the luxury and excitement of a pro-hero, but he was happy. He had a great neighbour, Twice, who introduced him to his gang of misfits and outcast where he fitted perfectly.

There was Giran, Twice's boyfriend, who ran a Personal Manager office. Magne, one of the girls who worked there. Toga, an upcoming idol who the office represented. Spinner, a friend of Toga's. Mustard, Giran's intern. And Dabi, another one of the represented clients of their office and his boyfriend.

How had he gotten that? Don't ask him. One day, Jin was introducing the two to each other, and the next Dabi was taking him out on dates. Tenko had never had a boyfriend before, and his relationship with Dabi was rather new, so he hadn't told his dad yet. For the most part, he didn't want to freak him out. Oboro had grown very protective of him with having a crazy super-powerful villain going after him. But with how things were going, he was starting to not care that much about it.

"It's already been decided, Tenko," Oboro sighs. "You have to stay here..." Oboro tried to place a hand on his hair, but he quickly moved away and stomped inside.

"Fuck you!" he cried at his dad first. "And fuck all of you too!" and he continued with the rest of the faculty members hanging around in the Common room before heading upstairs to what will be his new place.

If he was honest, he didn't care much about living for a few months in UA. He loved his dad and his uncles and didn't really mind spending more time with them. But they couldn't keep treating him like a child. They couldn't take such a big decision for him believing that they knew better. He was an adult now. They had to talk things over with him and understand that he could make his own responsible choices. Usually Shouta, Hizashi and Yagi would have his back, but with their paternal instincts turned on again with the arrival of Midoriya and Eri, there was no such luck.

He stomped all the way to his room and once inside, flopped face down on his couch. Unlike the students dormitories, UA faculty members had bigger quarters. Instead of a one-bedroom, they had a private bathroom, a separate bedroom and a main lounge area. It was better than his apartment, but the fact that it had been his and this wasn't, made the entire thing pale in comparison to his eyes. But maybe it was just his anger. He was still pissed at his father, and it frustrated him that screaming at him wouldn't help the situation. He wanted to get back at him somehow, teach him a lesson. But how?

His answer came in the form of text message. His phone pinged in his pocket, and when he checked who it was, he couldn't help but smile.

Dumbass <3

Why are ppl taking stuff out of your home?

Are you moving out?

Dad is worried and made me move with him

Well, Fuck

And I had a plan to surprise you with cooking and a nerdy movie...

Guess we'll have to wait

Don't cry, babe

We can sneak you out.

I am an expert, after all

An expert?

What? Did you sneak out of your house late at night to go to some concert or some shit?

Like the rebel that you are?

Hell yeah,

I'm the disappointment your parents don't want you near

That's right...

You are a disappointment

Okay... Rude

Do you still want to help me with my body-art project?

Sure

Are you free tomorrow? It might take a while

I thought you were going to paint over me and take some pictures.

How long can that take?

A lot

We might get distracted~

And I want to reward you after such a long day of work~

...

I have a clear schedule on Friday.

Good

It's a date!

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"What the..."

School had just finished, and the teachers were just returning to their dormitory. Thought the sight that welcomed them wasn't one they were expecting.

It had been a couple of days since Tenko had moved in with them. The rest of the staff didn't see a problem with it. They knew the kid, and he was a polite and responsible young man. That morning, for example, he had asked all of them if he could use the Common room of the dorm for one of his art projects and if they were alright with somebody else coming too (Apparently he needed help with the project). It was a good change, though. Lately, the art student had been in a foul mood, ever since he moved. But that morning, it had been as if he was a whole other person. Oboro had been glad his son's mood had improved. He thought once he could focus on his art, it would happen. Boy, was he wrong...

When the teachers entered their new shared home, Tenko was there with a plastic rug covering the floor, some paintbrushes scattered around and kneeling in front of a half-naked person. It was definitely not what they expected.

"Oh, hey," the nudist greets them with a nod.

The sound makes the man kneeling turn around, revealing the other was not fully naked, but wearing underwear thank god and Tenko was painting near his crotch area. Aizawa, who was holding Eri and covering her eyes, and the rest of the teachers, let out a relieved sigh, except Oboro. He is still staring in disbelief and surprise, not understanding what is going on. Why is his son with this stripper stranger? Why was he so close to him?

"Sorry about the mess, I didn't know this would take so long," Tenko apologises as he goes back to painting on his live canvas.

Said canvas was a tall red-haired man with blue eyes who couldn't have been a few years older than Tenko. The guy had painted on patches of black ashy paint on half of his face, his neck, arms and shoulders. He probably had more on his back and legs, but the teachers couldn't see that. His front was left bare, but Tenko was making a weird patterns that were rising through his abdomen and chest, leading to a giant rainbow heart in his left pectoral.

"What type of classes are you taking?" Yamada asks.

"This is for my Alternative Art and Style class," Tenko explains. "Now, could you not bother me? It's a delicate process, and I don't want to start over again. Pretend we are not here," he calls them off.

The teachers do, and so he continues. Once he finishes with the chest, he takes a weird tool with a round end and dips it in water. He gently starts to trace patterns on one of the black patches, revealing a multitude of colours behind it. It's rather magical, seeing the colour come to life on the other's skin. Eri, who had become too curious and escaped Aizawa's censoring, even asks if she could try. Tenko lets her, and she does a small heart in the behind the redhead's ear.

An hour later, Tenko is done, and he and the live canvas start to take pictures of his work. The teachers are not paying it too much attention now, letting the student finish in peace as they grade papers, sometimes glancing back at them from the corner of their eye. All of them but one, who was too busy glaring daggers at the canvas. Oboro can't help but notice the weird tension between his son and the naked man. There's something in the way their gazes cross, and their touches linger that is making him mad. He used to be able to read his son like an open book. There weren't any secrets between them. But now, he is not so sure.

After a few shots with the guy spread-eagle against one of the white walls, the two left towards another room to take more pictures. Oboro fought against all his instincts telling him to stop them, to go with them, to not leave them alone for a second, and stayed with the rest of his co-workers and friends. He didn't know why, but he felt as if he had let his son walk straight to hell.

"Finally," Snipe sighs relieved once the two younger adults leave.

"Yeah, Shirakumo-san, you didn't tell us your son had a boyfriend-," Thirteen comments.

"He doesn't!" the delusional man interrupts. "That guy is not- he isn't- Tenko would tell me if he had a boyfriend, alright!?" he tries to convince them or himself, he isn't sure at this point. Shota hums by his side, in that ' I agree, but we both know you are wrong' tone.

"Honey, the only reason why they didn't jump each other is because we were there," Nemuri goes straight for the punch, covering Eri's ears and giving him a little wink.

"No! No, no. NO." he splutters before going back to paperwork. Shota hums again.

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They don't see Tenko again until after dinner. They were cleaning the table when the young man came down wearing a new set of clothes. Instead of the dirty sweatpants and tank top he used for painting, he had a black pair of pants and a black hoodie that was too big for him. The neckline didn't cover one of his shoulders and the sleeves pooled in his wrists. The hoodie also had a fire design on the back with blue flames.

"Hey, you missed dinner," Oboro tells him as he dries while Yagi cleans. "There's some leftover the fridge, if you want them," he tells him.

"No need, there's still some pizza left from my lunch with Dabi," he says and starts taking out what he needs.

"Dabi?" Yagi asks. "That's the name of the model who wore your art today? He seemed familiar,"

"Yeah, he's a professional model, maybe you saw him in a billboard or something," Tenko explains and starts heading out of the kitchen.

"You might wanna take another shower, Ten, you still have paint on your neck," Oboro points out.

"That isn't paint, dad..." Tenko grins as he disappears upstairs.

CRASH

"Oboro-san! The plates!"

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Saturday morning at UA always started slow. The weight of the week was still present, and the usual energy was not there yet. The staff of UA began their day with a quiet morning and a cup of coffee. Not all of the teachers stayed though. Some returned to their homes for the weekend, like Hizashi and Shota with Eri. They would take turns to stay with the students during Saturdays' and Sundays'. This weekend, Oboro, Nemuri, Snipe and All Might stayed.

"Fucking married fools..." Snipe groans as he arrives at the Common room.

"What are you complaining about now?" Nemuri asks, confused as the rest of them also come down.

"Last Night, Yamada and Aizawa," he grunts and spreads on the couch. "I know that they are married and that they love each other, but can't they keep it down?" he moans tired, making everybody confused.

"What do you mean? They left yesterday with Eri, they didn't even spend the night here," Oboro tells the hero, voicing everybody confusion.

"But then who were the ones having sex yesterday in the room on top of mine?" Snipe asks baffled.

"Sorry about that," a low voice comes from the kitchen. The teachers all turn towards it and find the model from yesterday leaning against the kitchen door with two steaming cups of coffee one was Tenko's favourite one, Oboro noticed and no shirt.

"What- Why- What are you still doing here?" Oboro asks, fearing the answer.

"My baby was lonely, and he never says no to Daddy's attention," Dabi grins and walks back upstairs.

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"So, how long are you going to torture your dad?" Dabi asks his boyfriend, giving him the steaming cup in his new bed before he lays down next to him.

"For a while," Tenko hums and sips his sugar monstrosity he referred to as 'coffee'. "I'm guessing in a month, he'll finally get tired of it, learn his lesson," Dabi hums as he sips with him. "You don't have to follow along if you don't want to. I know what I'm doing is stupid," he says, lightly scratching his neck.

"Are you kidding me!? I love every second of it," Dabi chuckles. "How about on winter holidays you came to my family's home, and we do the same to my old man?" he suggests, a mischievous grin forming in his face.

"Are these going to be our dates from now on? Pissing off each other's parents?" Tenko rolls his eyes at his boyfriend's daddy issues.

"Hell, yeah. We are a team, aren't we? If you succeed, then so do I," he kisses him in the cheek, making the younger man's cheek turn pink. "Speaking of which, I need to leave more marks on you, babe," The brunette traces a path with his lips to the crook of his neck.

"Dabi..." the artist moans. Suddenly, the body besides him steps away from the bed, taking the heat with him. "No, don't leave..." he pouts and watches as his boyfriend rummages through his overnight bag. A second later, the taller male drops a dozen lipstick tubes on the bed and a box of make-up removing tissues on the bed. He then sits in the mattress again, in front of him, making the new objects bounce. "What are those for?"

"A game I know. Pick one," Tomura looks between the object and his boyfriend, trying to decipher what he was planning on doing. With a shaky gloved finger, he takes the tube nearest to him. Dabi takes it from him and spins it open, displaying a hot pink colour and applies it rapidly on his lips.

He is about to ask him something else, but he is interrupted by a pair of wet lips connecting with his. After his mouth, Dabi kisses his cheek then his jaw, his neck and collar bone before once again returning to his lips. He then separates from him once again and reaches for one the wipes, leaving Tomura panting. "Pick another one," he is instructed as the brunette takes off the pink lipstick. Without taking his eyes off Dabi, grabs another tube and hands it to him. The man on top opens the new one, a deep red, applies it and goes back to Tenko's lips. This time though, instead of continuing on his neck, the other dips down lower and tugs his shirt upwards. He starts to outline a straight line from his hip to his heart before returning to his lips again. "Another one and take that shirt off, I plan on making you a masterpiece," Dabi softly whispers in his ear before wiping off the make-up.

Colour after colour, Dabi stayed true to his word. His collar and neck ended up pink, his chest had three lines of kiss marks in red, purple and blue, his shoulders and wrists got green and yellow on his right and left and his crotch covered in black. He would start and end with his lips, making them swollen and full of colour. Dabi kissed him slowly and sensually everywhere, tearing him apart with every touch of his lips, smearing make-up all over his body. He felt his affection and care, leaving him breathless and dizzy. They didn't do anything overly sexual, his bottom was still sore from yesterday, though Dabi did blow him.

As the two laid next to each other after it, Tenko couldn't believe how happy the other made him. Dabi was his first relationship, and the man had been nothing if not patient with him. He let him set a pace he was comfortable with, teaching him the ropes and calming his anxiety whenever he got nervous. He even went along with his petty scheme. Tenko knew he was falling for the guy and it terrified him and thrilled him at the time. The fact that he could just be next to a person and be happy and content was new. He could stay in this bed forever, staring back into those blue eyes, and be in peace.

Suddenly, a phone rings in the background, interrupting the moment. Dabi huffs annoyed and picks up the phone on the nightstand. "What, Giran!?" he answers the call. "What? No, I'm busy. Can't you postpone it?" he says after a second. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. But I'm with Shirakumo right now," he moans and sighs once he gets an answer. "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'll see you there," he hangs up the phone and sighs again.

"You have work?" Tenko asks him.

"Yeah, the photoshoot for that new perfume brand, 'Angel's Tears', got moved to today. They want to release the product earlier, to win against a rival brand," he explains annoyed. "I don't wanna leave..." he moans and hides his face in the crook of his neck.

"You can come back later, I don't want you to miss work," he tells him, stroking the model's naked back. Dabi groans in protest and cuddles closer, hanging on to hin tighter. "Come on, you lazy bum, get up," he tells him and tries to get out of his hold.

It takes him a minute, but he is able to get out of bed and go into the bathroom. When he is in there, he gets to look at the end piece of Dabi's game. His body is a battlefield of lip marks of different colours in a chaotic yet very eye-catching way. He had a lot of issues like a LOT of issues and his dislike for his body was one of them. But looking at himself like this? With the clear evidence that someone loved his frail, pale form, it made his stomach flutter. Taking advantage of his new-found confidence, he goes for his phone and takes a picture in the mirror. As the camera goes off, Dabi appears behind him, placing his arms in his stomach and his chin in his shoulder. He takes another one.

"I told you I would make you a Masterpiece," he whispers in his ear and then kisses it.

The two try to get presentable, or at least Tenko does, covering the lipstick with clothes. The make-up is dry now, so the wipes don't take much of it off. He might need to take a shower once Dabi leaves. Once the two are ready, they go to the gate hand in hand to wait for Giran. The manager is going to drive the model there, since he doesn't have a car.

They depart with a kiss and a promise to call the other once they're free again.

Once he is gone, he makes his way back to the small dormitory-apartment, where he sees his dad sitting in one of the couch with his face in his hands. Yagi by his side, was trying to comfort him. He ignored them, but he can feel their eyes in his back and neck. Especially on the make-up he yet had to remove. He is feeling a little bad for his dad. He knows it's very pitiful what he is doing. But he guessed for now he learned his lesson. He could back down a little and attack once he went back to his habits. He was prepared if that happened. Unlike his dad, whose strategy was unplanned and sprung in the moment, he had a hot-blooded boyfriend he could use as very effective ammo.

He took a shower when he got to his room, which took him while. The lipstick was a pain to scrub off, and it made him question how worth it would be to do it. But then he remembers how good it was to be kissed stupid by his boyfriend and how he would love to do the same to him, and thinks that maybe it's worth the mess. He steps out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist but stops in his tracks.

"Dad!? What are you doing with my phone!?" he yells when he sees his dad there, messing with his phone.

'Quick, Oboro, act stupid!'

"...what's a phone?" the older man utters. 'Not that stupid!'

Tenko feels like he's about to explode with anger. Screw going on the defensive! Screw his dad and his overprotective nurture! Screw being treated like a child or an innocent teenager! This meant war and his dad was going to relive hell on earth!

Tenko takes a deep breath to calm down first. He isn't wearing his gloves right now, and while his control is pretty good, he doesn't want to accidentally decay his phone or his possessions in a fit of anger. Or worse, his dad.

"I'm going to change, and then you are going to apologise for disrespecting my privacy," he tells him in his meanest and darkest tone. "Also, if I were you, I wouldn't open the camera roll," he warns as he enters his bedroom.

The scream he hears once the door is close is strangely satisfying.

#shigadabiweek2020 #shigadabi #dabishiga #shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki tomura #Dabi #bnha #mha #au

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ilooklikeaburntchickenugget · 4 years ago

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False God

A/N: Inspired by False God, by Taylor Swift. Also I put in so many Taylor song references (I’m also a Swiftie, I had to), so you might find those. Hopefully. Pairing: Gerard Way (2007, EMA era) x F! Reader Warnings: Steamy, definitely steamy, no explicit smut though. And swearing. Word count: 1,542

youtube

(Here’s the song, if you haven’t heard it)

We were crazy to think Crazy to think that this could work Remember how I said I'd die for you? We were stupid to jump In the ocean separating us Remember how I'd fly to you?

“Gerard-” You moaned as he slammed your body onto the bed. The sheets engulfed you almost instantly as his lips continued to assault the various sweet spots on your neck, going up to behind you ears where his mouth would whisper the dirtiest things about his intentions with you.

“Yes, darling?” He asked, trailing down further and further, his hands keeping your hands tied above your head. He had gone to the right side of your neck, right above your shoulder and began placing soft kisses before attacking your weakness. You let out a loud moan and sigh, you could feel him lightly chuckle as he was in power.

“Right there, baby, right there.” “Anything for you sugar.”

And I can't talk to you when you're like this Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town I'm New York City I still do it for you, babe

You were awoken to no one next to you, only your bare body and the scent of Gerard. “Gee?” You called out lightly, your eyes still adjusting to the sun which projected itself into the room and across the floor. You looked up to see him gazing out the window, fascinated by the bustling city below.

You got up, grabbing the nearest article of clothing which happened to be his dress shirt from the night before. The fabric fell on your mid-thigh and exposed some of the hickeys on your neck and chest. You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his chest from behind and giving him a kiss on the head as he rubbed your arm. “You’re gorgeous.” He said, looking up at you.

“I could say the same for you.”

They all warned us about times like this They say the road gets hard and you get lost When you're led by blind faith Blind faith

“When are we finally going to open up, Gerard?” You asked him, your anger slowly rising within you.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” He fought back, “I was hoping to keep this between the two of us for a while.” “It’s been a while,” You replied, “Almost nine months.” He sighed, “No one knows, Gee, no one but us. Not even our parents. Not even our siblings.” He aggressively ran his hand through his messy raven hair.

“Because no one needs to know, Y/N/N,” He continued, “What we have is something really special. And I know that sounds cliche, but I’ve never felt this towards anyone.” “I get what you mean, I’ve never felt this either. But why can’t we show other people?”

“Because we just can’t.” “We just can’t?” You screeched, “Of course we can!”

“You need to calm down.” He said.

“I am calm!” You screamed. “Don’t raise your voice at me.” He warned, pointing his finger. “You’re going to regret it.” “Oh, how so?” You snapped, his eyes squinting slightly as his face turned to one of frustration and warning. “Watch me.” Within a few seconds your body was slammed against the wall, your hands pinned above you as his mouth attacked yours, his tongue entering yours and taking almost immediate dominance.

But we might just get away with it Religion's in your lips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship

Your relationship was under the radar for over a year. It was slightly making you lose your mind, you wanted to show off Gerard to everyone. But keeping this secret was fun, and you knew it only made both of you want to take more scandalous steps.

“Hey, babe.” You heard Gerard greet you as you got home, placing your trench coat on the coat rack and boots on the mat as you walked in from the stormy New York evening.

“Sorry I’m late,” You said walking over and giving him a kiss on the lips, “I was stuck in the studio.” “Understood.” He lightly smiled, continuing the painting he was working on in the spare room you had, which was an office/art space. His typical paint cardigan had a few new paint splatters you could tell.

“And what’re you so busy doing mister?” You asked playfully.

“Oh nothing.” He sighed, “It’ll be something soon, though, I promise.”

We might just get away with it The altar is my hips Even if it's a false god We'd still worship this love We'd still worship this love We'd still worship this love

Sitting down on the couch in your robe with a glass of red wine was how you spent the rare stormy nights in New York. The rain pattered on the floor to ceiling windows in your apartment, the lightning and thunder being seen and heard whenever striking. That of course didn’t stop you from watching whatever drama movies were on TV.

You felt Gerard give you a long kiss on the head, so you reached back and rubbed your fingers through his hair all while smiling. You couldn’t even notice your robe had come undone until you looked down to see his fingers pulling the strings which once tied the silk garment to you off all while kissing around your neck. “And what do you think you’re doing?” You asked.

“Trying to make you feel good.” He answered, continuing.

“Well,” You began, “Why don’t you make me feel good after you shower.” He sighed letting go.

“You know how to ruin a moment, sugar.” You lightly giggled. He took the wine glass out of your hand, drowning the rest rather quickly, before putting it back on the coffee table.

“While you’re up could you pour me another glass?” You asked, putting on your puppy dogs eyes. He sighed again.

“Of course, darling.” He replied, going to the kitchen instead of the bathroom first. He came back, a freshly poured glass in hand for you. “While I’m taking a shower, why don’t you check the art room.” He suggested and smirked, closing the bedroom door to go to the bathroom.

You lightly laughed at his mystery, getting up and wandering over to the corner room where you saw a sight that made you stop in your tracks. There sat a giant mural of your face, every feature prominent and perfect. You slowly approached it, admiring it for quite a bit of time.

It felt like a few minutes, but it became more when Gerard crept up behind you. “What do you think?” “It’s incredible.” You turned around to face him and smiled, “It’s done all too well to be honest, all my delicate features are there, everything.” You said.

“I’m glad you like it, I do too.” He responded.

“What are you going to name it?” You asked next.

“I don’t know.” He sighed, “But call it what you want.”

I know heaven's a thing I go there when you touch me, honey Hell is when I fight with you But we can patch it up good Make confessions and we're begging for forgiveness Got the wine for you

“For once just listen to me Gerard!” You yelled.

“Not when you’re being delusional, Y/N.” He fired right back, you two stood opposite of each other in the room, both pacing in your own corners.

“I’m not being fucking delusional!” You screamed, “You’re being a jackass!”

“Sometimes you’re so bitchy!” He replied.

“I’m what?” You asked, your voice going down, “Call me a bitch one more time.” You looked right into his eyes, his face now plastered with fear instead of anger. “You’re a dickhead, Gerard, and you clearly don’t know a damn thing about women.” You stormed off down the hall and to your room.

“Wait, Y/N, I-” He began following you, trying to grab your arm.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You warned, tears filling your eyes, “Leave me the fuck alone.” You entered the master bedroom and slammed the door, marching over to the bed where you curled up and began crying.

You were so upset that he still didn’t want anyone to know about the two of you. You almost felt as if he was ashamed of you. Sure he was a rock singer and you were a pop singer, but you weren’t sure if that was enough to ruin his reputation, or even alter it in any way.

So you cried, for almost an hour, eventually hugging his pillow only to smell the familiar and comforting scent of your lover. “Y/N?” You heard him lightly knock, “Can I come in.” You sniffed and sat yourself up.

“Yeah.” You lightly said. There, walked in Gerard. His eyes were red, you could see he too has been crying.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” He said, “So sorry.” “I know,” You responded, “It’s alright.” He came over and sat next to you.

“I think we do need to let out family know, it’s been far too long. That way we can spend more time together, in public and such.” “Are you sure?” You asked, “I mean, only if you feel comfortable.” “Of course, darling.” He smiled, “I’m always comfortable when I’m with you.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way #mcr gerard #gee way #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gerard #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

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donkey-hyuck · 4 years ago

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♫ playlist ♫

word count- 1774

chapter warnings- none! i hope

series masterlist!

⤷⤷ prologue ➤ chapter one ➤ chapter two ➤ ✵chapter three✵ ➤ chapter four ➤ chapter five ➤ ✵chapter six✵ ➤ chapter seven ➤ chapter eight ➤ ✵chapter nine✵ ➤ |you’re here| ➤

𝘿𝙄𝙎𝘾𝙇𝘼𝙄𝙈𝙀𝙍: everything that is written is purely fiction and does not depict reality :)

«────── « ⋅ʚ🔥ɞ⋅ » ──────»

your two friends had slept over that night. but all they did was shout and scream. ‘we all work at the same time,’ they each reasoned and planted their asses onto your mattress as you got ready to shower. and the entire time you were, you could still hear them gushing about the newfound relationship between you and ceo huang. if only they knew what truly happened the previous night.

the three of you sat in hyunwoo’s car while they talked about the schedules that were planned for the day and them dreaming about their true loves just walking past them by coincidence. now, they did not fully believe that the ceo and you were twin flames— soulmates, sure— but you never knew. there could always be that little bit of chance that played well for the both of you. so your two friends did what they thought would be the best option. bet.

“actually, i think huang renjun is y/n’s twin flame,” smirked hyunwoo as he looked over to haneul. “okay, i know that i love ceo huang and whatever but i honestly don’t think they are. i think y/n and huang renjun are just soulmates who happened to meet. plus, not everyone is able to find their soulmate like that,” haneul said while rolling her eyes toward the boy and turned back to you in the passenger side, looking for your input.

you just laughed at your delusional friends and explained what happened and what you thought (and knew) your relationship with renjun was. “listen, you guys are being too hopeful. it was just a measly dinner. nothing more, nothing less. whatever happens between huang renjun and i stay between huang renjun and i.” they both had a pout on their face as they crossed their arms and the rest of the ride to your company stayed quiet. what a bunch of babies.

your two friends walked into the building before you and separated ways while you just reached the receptionist at the desk. she stopped you before you had the chance to greet her and walk toward the west side elevators to your office.

“oh, y/n, morning! you have a surprise from a secret admirer,” she said wiggling her eyebrows and playfully winking at you. “someone came by earlier and said to keep it a secret.” you just laughed at her before thanking her and taking the small basket of goodies in your hand and up to your office. turning around, you looked at the basket in your hand and immediately knew who it was. huang renjun.

the office which you had been placed in (as an intern) was on the top floor, the floor in which interns and those in training stayed with the ceo and the more professional people that were working in the building. you walked to your cubicle whilst greeting some staff and coworkers of yours before setting the basket down on the table and opening up your computer. as if on queue, haneul walked into your office just to see what was going on— even though she had just seen you minutes prior.

“hey y/n. whatcha doin’? eunha and i are making lunch plans and-” she had been fiddling around your small office before stopping her sentence, eyes laid upon the gift of goodies laying right at the front of your desk. dammit, now she saw and you knew she would not keep her mouth shut about it.

“woah! what’s-” you cut her off by almost flying out of your chair and covering her mouth with your palm as hard as you could. her face seemed shocked before you finally calmed down and let go of the poor girl. you then proceeded to shut the door to your office as she sat down on one of the leather chairs across from your desk, pointing at the basket with furrowed brows. you put your index finger against your lips indicating her to be quiet.

“who gave you those?” she whispered while making a face you ought to take a mental screenshot. “a secret admirer. so says tiffany,” you sighed out and looked out the window and waved to your other co-interns that greeted you.

“but she works at the front desk. how did someone just give her those? and why did they come so early? it’s literally opening time,” haneul continued to ask but then she too knew exactly who gave it to you. gasping she also whispered, “wait!! don’t tell me…” she trailed off. there was only one person who would be bold enough to do this. and to be honest, you didn’t want to believe it, but you were pretty damn sure it was huang renjun.

looking from the floor to her figure, you shyly nodded and she screamed. out of joy, of course. but it all came to an end when you quickly shut her up again.

“i don’t 100% believe it’s him but-” she stopped your sentence by rolling her eyes and telling you her input and thoughts, “it’s not him my ass. huang fucking renjun, ceo of huang&co, asked you out. he asked you. pleaded, even. don’t give me that ‘i don’t really think…’ i’m not gonna believe that shit.” god she was annoying sometimes.

“okay, fine. i’m pretty sure it was him,” you gave into her reasoning. “and i said ‘i don’t 100% believe’ not ‘i don’t really think’ thank you very much.” she just scrunched her nose and continued to walk out of your office. until you stopped her again. “wait! please promise me you won’t tell anyone! not even hyunwoo. i’ll tell him later.” the young girl playfully rolled her eyes again and put up an ‘OK’ sign before leaving your office and shutting the door. prick.

you sighed and sat in your chair while rotating in circles and looking up at the ceiling. well, you had nothing to do so you came to the conclusion of peeking through the basket. grabbing the handle, you placed the basket in your lap and sifted through whatever was in there. cookies, gummies, chocolates, a small stuffed teddy bear, and a little note.

hi~ i hope you didn’t mind this. i just felt so bad for what happened the other night and i can’t get it out of my head. hopefully we can make it up later? lunch at 12:30 today? text me! x- your secret admirer.

what an idiot. but somehow, with the rolling of your eyes, came a small smile that lifted from the corner of your lips. so you decided to text him and apologize since you had just made plans with haneul and eunha. however, before you texted him, you had actually contemplated on sending a picture of the goodie basket. oh what the hell. it’s only a boy, get over yourself. you cursed at yourself in your mind. taking a quick picture of the goodies, you sent it to him in thanks.

— attachment; 1 image

thanks for the basket :); sent 9:26 a.m. (you)

no problem! it’s the least i could do anyways😅; sent 9:29 a.m. (ceo huang)

also i’m sorry but i can’t do lunch today. i’m having a small lunch with haneul and eunha around 11:30; sent 9:31 a.m. (you)

no it’s okay! how about this evening? for a light dinner?; sent 9:32 a.m. (ceo huang)

i’m down. you’re not gonna shoot up the place are you?; sent 9:34 a.m. (you)

ugh stop. i still feel so much remorse :( i promise nothing’s gonna happen; sent 9:35 a.m. (ceo huang)

it’s a joke, calm down; sent 9:37 a.m. (you)

you’re mean; sent 9:37 a.m. (ceo huang)

grow up; sent 9:38 a.m. (you)

hehe i’ll pick you up at six then; sent 9:38 a.m. (ceo huang)

can’t :( i get off work at six; sent 9:39 a.m. (you)

i can pick you up! i really wanna make it up to you; sent 9:40 a.m. (ceo huang)

fine. but i’ll be waiting on the east side of the building. no one really exits that door. it should say the ’east side’ on the side of the building; sent 9:41 a.m. (you)

okay. i’ll see you then!; sent 9:43 a.m. (ceo huang)

a knock interrupted your train of thought about all of the possible outcomes of said dinner with huang renjun. and you just hoped for the better. even though you didn’t like him that much, he definitely was trying his best to get on your good side. and you actually appreciated that he was trying. unlike some people that had long left your life.

“come in!” you shouted from inside and placed your phone on the table and the basket of goodies by the edge of the desk on the floor. it was hyunwoo. he eyed the object and looked back at you, expecting an answer. though it was fair that he already had a person pop up in his mind when he saw it.

“huang renjun,” you sucked on your teeth. he laughed and sat across from you. “go figure.” you scowled at him before asking what he wanted. “well, eunha and haneul and eating for lunch and wanted to ask where you wanted to go,” he looked at his nails and then back to you. “you’re going too?” which made him scoff and say, “of course i am. what do you take me for?” you mocked his pretty little face before replying, “anywhere. did you guys choose yet?”

he nodded and said, “we decided on rich table. and i think we’re gonna dine in.” you nodded and logged onto your computer. “all good with me, thanks.” he hummed in response and he was out the door.

the day ahead of you was not that packed with schedules. you had another appointment at ‘style studio’ in an hour and then you were pretty much free for the day. easygoing for an intern like you. so you opted to go on your computer and look through any future news and whatnot.

‘lee donghyuck according to be apart of future drama ‘高富帅 (tall, rich, and handsome)’ as his debut in a chinese drama proposing the character 周龙尾 (zhou longwei)....’ enough of this. you clicked off and walked out of your office. it was going to be a long night for sure. now, you had a chance to regain your trust in him, but you didn’t want to lead him on and give him false hope.

chapter nine ➤ chapter ten ➤ chapter eleven

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @ichigofelix @moonbeamsung @heavenlyhuangs @kisshim @lixseu

#nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct renjun #nct dream renjun #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #renjun x reader #renjun angst #renjun au #huang renjun #nct series

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crmsfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Second Chances-Chapter 4

Author Note: Ok this is a heavy chapter. It has trigger warnings, domestic violence and blood. There is a scene of DV towards the end of the chapter. Please don’t read if this will cause issues.

As always Feedback is appreciated and Constructive criticism is encouraged. Flames will keep the plot bunnies warm this winter.

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Chapter 4: Confrontation

Two days later Willa was back in her hometown of Columbus, Ohio. She’d gotten in the night before late and crashed at Becca and David’s house. This morning she had an appointment with the realtor at 9 and was meeting Tony for lunch at 12. She was ready for this all to be over with. Becca and David were heading to the house when Willa met with Tony for lunch. They were going to pack up as much of her stuff as they could and take it to their house. She’d be crashing there for a few days until she got a new place.

Getting ready for the day, Willa put on a pair of black skinny dress pants, a blue silk blouse and a black leather jacket. She wanted to exude confidence and power. Adding in a silver necklace and black booties she left her hair down and kept her make-up muted with natural colors. She didn’t want to overpower anyone, but she had to let Tony know he wasn’t in charge anymore. The past couple of days she had realized she was allowing him to much power over her. She was tired of crying and feeling horrible. Yes, she was still heartbroken, it had been 5 years together. However she was no longer feeling numb. Now she was feeling absolutely angry and ready to end this shit for good.

Willa’s phone rang and when she looked at it she didn’t recognize the number. Confused she answered it, “Hello?”

“Stay away from him. He doesn’t want you. He is with me now.” a female voice said with malice dripping from her tone.

“I don’t know who you are or how you got this number, but you can have him. Once a cheater always a cheater. Remember that. Also never call me again.” Willa said as she hung up and tossed her phone to the side. She shook her head and resolved to get a new phone and number. She also was going to give Tony a piece of her mind about giving her number to the women he is sleeping with. Of course he’d never have her number again after today. Checking the time Willa headed downstairs and grabbed a cup of coffee as her phone went off again with a series of text messages, all from an unknown number. They all basically said the same thing. Leave him alone. He wasn’t in love with her. He was with her now. He’d never loved her. She treated him better than Willa ever did.

Laughing at the stupid texts she showed them to Becca and David as she sipped her coffee and put a bagel in the toaster. “Who does this stupid bint think she is? I seriously don’t want his nasty cheating ass anymore. If she seriously thinks she can keep him from cheating, she is deluded.”

Grabbing her bagel, Willa slathered it with butter and cream cheese as she pushed all thoughts of Tony’s side piece getting all up in arms over her. She had more important things to think about. Like how she was going to break the news to Becca and David that she wasn’t staying in Ohio after this week. She’d talked to Uncle Bob and he told her to take off some time and come visit for awhile and then move to a different state to start over. He was hoping California, but Willa was leaning more towards New York. She had lived there a decade ago and she’d loved it, but after the incident she’d never gone again.

She missed New York. The great deli three blocks from his apartment. The cafe they would always stop and get coffee from on their way back from a run. Spending the weekend at his mom and step dads place. Willa shook her head. She had to stop thinking of him. It wasn’t doing her any favors right now. It isn’t as if she’d ever get back together with him. That ship sailed years ago, when he walked away with the worst excused she’d ever heard before. He told her he didn’t love her, but Willa knew that wasn’t true. He’d loved her then. Something or more likely someone made him walk away.

“Alright I’m off. See you guys in a few hours. I’ll be a free woman again. Be careful getting stuff out of the house. I don’t want much other than my laptop, clothes, make-up and jewelry. If you can grab the box of stuff in the garage. Becca, you know which one I’m talking about right? Black box, red roses on the lid. Everything else can be left.” Willa said as she pulled herself out of her thoughts and headed to the door and her car. She had 30 minutes to get to the realtors office. Luckily traffic was light today and she arrived with ten minutes to spare.

After a couple hours, Willa was tired and ready to be done. She had explained why she wanted to sell the house to her realtor and they had promised to get the paperwork sorted in the next week or so and give her a call as to when the inspector and appraisers would be by to see the house. Willa smiled, stood and shook their hand as she gathered her purse and headed to her car. She had just enough time to head for the phone store to get her number changed. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long. She had been getting a constant barrage of text messages and a few voicemails from Tony’s side piece. Willa had ignored them all. Hadn’t even open them. She didn’t want to hear or read the vitriol spewing from this delusional chick’s mouth. She was ready to cut ties and start to move on with her life. It wasn’t going to a quick process, she knew that. It was 5 years that she was moving on from, but damn if she wasn’t going to do it.

45 minutes later Willa walked out with a new phone and a new phone number. She had her old phone in her purse, but turned off. She would transfer all the pics and music over another day. Right now she had to hurry to get to lunch. Getting into her car, she merged smoothly into traffic and headed for the restaurant. Pulling into the parking lot Willa noticed tony standing next to his car waiting for her. He had a confident smile on his face.

Groaning Willa got out of her car, straightened her jacket and walked over to Tony. She didn’t stop next to him, but kept walking towards the door causing Tony to curse lightly and jog to catch up. He wasn’t about to let Willa go willingly. He was confident he could sweet talk his way out of her anger and back into her good graces. He help open the door for Willa as she reached the door.

“Reservation for two under the name Malstrom.” Tony said as he smiled at the hostess. The hostess giggled lightly as she showed them back to their table. Willa just rolled her eyes at the display. She was so over it all. Tony pulled her chair out and pushed it back in as she was sitting down before sitting down himself.

“Hey baby. Thanks for having lunch with me.” Tony started, trying to lay it on so Willa would forgive him. He needed her connections in Hollywood to help get his book published.

“I wanted to do this in public to avoid a huge scene. This is over Tony. Our life together is over. I can’t forget seeing you in bed with another woman.”

“Baby that wasn’t what it looked like.” Tony was starting to feel a little nervous. He couldn’t afford to lose her and her connections. They were the only reason he’d stuck with her for so long.

“Oh? Then what was it like?” Willa asked genuinely curious as to how he was going to spin this.

“Alright, yes I was in bed with her, but she seduced me. It didn’t mean anything. I love you baby. I don’t want to argue. I refuse to allow you to break us up. We are perfect together. Everyone says so. We will get past this. After all we are getting married in two months. Now that this is settled, what do you want for lunch?” Tony said with finality. He wasn’t letting her get away from him.

Willa laughed out loud as she stood up pulling off her engagement ring and setting it on the table between them. “You’re not allowing me? I have news for you, I am breaking this off. We aren’t getting married in two months. The wedding is canceled. You are nothing more than a liar and a manipulator. I can’t believe I was blind to it all these years, but you have always done no wrong. It has always been someone else’s fault. No more. Time for you to man up and accept that you aren’t the victim in this.”

“Stop being so dramatic and sit back down. I’m not letting you go. Not like this. It was one mistake and you want to throw away 5 good years over it. Now put your ring back on and sit down. We are going to have a nice lunch and then we are going home, where I can prove I love you.” Tony said as he narrowed his eyes at Willa and purposefully stared at the chair across from him. This was getting ridiculous. She needed to relearn her place. He was definitely going to teach her once they got home.

“No. I won’t sit back down and have lunch. I am done. Done with you. Done with this situation. Done with all of it. We are done.” Willa said as she started to walk away, but tony grabbed her arm tightly and hissed, “Sit down now and have lunch. We are going to have a talk about this when we get back home and you will listen to me if you know what’s good for you.” Willa looked down at Tony and gulped. She nodded and sat down again. The look in his eyes told her that she would regret not doing as he said right now. She would follow through with lunch and then leave in her own car afterwards. Maybe by playing nice right now, she could deescalate the situation.

After an extremely tense lunch, Willa and Tony were headed for their cars. Tony had his hand wrapped around Willa’s forearm in an extremely tight grip. Willa was sure she’d have bruises by morning. Exiting the restaurant found Willa being pulled in the direction of Tony’s car and away from her own. “Tony, my car is over there. Let me go. I stayed for lunch. Time to go our separate ways.” Willa said as she tried unsuccessfully to extract her arm from his grip.

“No. You’re riding with me. I told you, I wasn’t letting you go. We are going home to talk. Once we sort everything out we can come back and get your car.” Tony said as he drug her to his car and opened door. He practically shoved her in and slammed the door shut. Willa thought about opening the door and making a run for it, but it was a fleeting thought. She knew he’d catch her and it could be worse. Sitting back Willa tried to think about how she could calm Tony down and she could walk away safely.

Tony drove them back home and once there pulled Willa out of the car and forced her into the house. Closing the door behind him, Tony threw off his jacket and started to roll up his sleeves. Willa stared at him waiting for him to speak. She was going to listen to him and then leave as soon as she could. She’d call Becca and David to come pick her up and drive her to get her car.

“Tony, look I know this is a shock and you’re upset, but acting like this isn’t the way. I am not going to stay with a cheater. You don’t get to play the victim. You don’t get to lie you way out of this. I am 1000% done with you and us.” Willa said as she crossed her arms and leveled a glare at Tony. He just turned away from her and curled his hands into fists.

______________________Trigger Warning_____________________

Willa wasn’t paying attention to him and had just closed her eyes, when the first hit landed on her left cheek. The second hit landed on her ribs knocking the wind out of her and doubling her over. The third and fourth hits were both to her face and after the fourth hit, blood started flowing from her nose. The fifth hit was to her ribs again, knocking her to the ground, where he kicked her hard twice. She was gasping for breath as Tony leaned over and grabbed her hair and dragged her to the living room. He sat on the couch and threw Willa on the floor in front of him.

“Now look what you made me do. You have always been so obedient and I’ve never had to punish you like this before, but you had to go and say horrible things about me. I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior from you again. Is that understood?” Tony said as he took in the bruises blooming around her eyes and nose. He knew if he’d lift her shirt there would be bruises to her ribs as well.

Willa nodded quickly and turned her face away from him. She was in survival mode now. She’d never thought he’d be capable of doing something like this. Never had he given any indication that he would ever physically abuse a woman. She was hoping and praying that he’d just leave her alone now and she could leave. Tony smiled and reach out to caress her hair and face as he gripped her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. “Now why don’t I go run a bath for you and then we can spend the rest of the day in bed.”

____________________End Trigger Warning____________________

“Y-Y-Yes. Th-That sounds lovely.” Willa stuttered out as she stared into those cold, brown eyes. All she could see in them was rage and hatred. She smiled through her tears and the pain trying to convey to him her submission. Nodding, Tony stood up and left the room. Willa listen as he walked up the stairs and into the bedroom closing the door behind him. He was confident that she wouldn’t leave now.

Willa struggled to her feet and softly walked to the door. She grabbed her purse from the floor and opened the door. She ran outside and down the street. Lucky for her, she was three blocks from a bus stop. Running there she was just in time to catch it. She paid and sat down. Pulling her phone out she scrolled through her phone looking for a number she had never thought to call again. She wasn’t even sure if it still was his number, but it was worth a shot. She pressed the call button and held the phone to her ear. It rang several times before his voice came through, “Hello?”

“Baz.” Willa said as she broke down sobbing on the bus.

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#sebastian stan #sebastianstanxofc #sebastian stan slow burn #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #sebstian stan smut

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 5 years ago

Note

Yandere prompt 21 with Kakyoin please?

Welp I just want to say before we start that the Yakuza scam that is mentioned is actually a true story that my Japanese teacher told the class about as a warning about all of the corruption that happens in Tokyo.

Anyway here's the fic

Foreign treasure

(Yandere Kakyoin X Female Reader)

Kakyoin couldn't help but stare at the new exchange student, her name was (Y/n) (L/n). He couldn't help but lose focus in his classes as he looked at her. Her soft (h/c) hair, her stunning (E/C) eyes that gleamed in the sun like jewels. She truely was a foreign treasure.

He wanted her to know he existed but was to shy to even give direct eye contact, little more actually speak to her.

🍒🍒🍒

"That'll be 1500 yen" the shop clerk said. Kakyoin looked through his wallet and picked out the notes and coins in his hand. 1155 yen, it wasn't enough to pay for his lunch and drink. He felt embarrassed and he didn't know what to say until a hand grazed against his as they placed a 1000 yen note in his hand.

"You can keep the change" a familiar soft voice said. He looked to his side to see the familiar (h/c)ed female, giving him a smile that was possibly sweeter then any candy.

"Uh... O, thanks" he stuttered in embarrassment.

"No problem, sorry if I scared you" she said as her smile grew.

"No you didn't" he said as he handed the clerk the money and grabbed the plastic bag.

"Your name's Kakyoin, right?" She asked him.

"Y... Yes" he stuttered.

"Well I'm (Y/n)" she said as she took his hand and shook it.

His heart skipped a beat as he felt her holding his hand and the butterflies grew in his stomach.

"Everytime I've seen that you've always been alone, what's up with that?" She asked as they both walked out.

"I just think that it's more important to study then socialise" he lied.

"Oh, I just thought you might've of been lonely..." You sighed.

"Thou that's nothing to be ashamed of, back in my country I'm pretty lonely at school" she said to him.

"It's so much nicer here. Everything's cleaner, the streets the houses, even the people" she said.

"Oh I'm sorry... I must rambling" she apologized.

"No, no it's perfectly fine, I enjoy listening to y- people" he said avoiding to say you to not sound creepy but it was the truth, he did enjoy listening to you. On many occasions he had used his stand to possess others just so he could hear her voice. He had even used a possessed to stalk you, but to his misfortune she had caught him and ran off too quickly for him to follow.

"What are you listening to?" He asked as he saw her headphones that were plugged into a cassette player, he could hear the tune ever so faintly.

"Oh... I'm not sure if you know him... Then again you Japanese sure do have a love of western music" she replied.

"Even if I don't I'm sure he's great"

"Well if you must know... I'm listening to Sting" she said. His eyes light up with suprise.

"You like Sting, He's my favourite musician" he said, trying so desperately to his his joy. Him and her were so much alike, he just knew that she had to have some feeling for him.

Over the weeks he seemed so much brighter, every week day he jumped out of bed excited to see you once more but one day you had to leave, this was only a exchange program. You had to go back.

"(Y/n) I just wanted to give you something before you go!" He yelled as he tried to catch up to catch up to her as he held an envelope in his hand.

"Yes?" She asked as she stopped.

"Here" he said as he put the envelope in her hand.

"Don't open it now, but please reply when you get back" he asked her.

"Of course" she said.

But she never did...

🍒🍒🍒

Several years had passed and the year was 1996 and the world was a different place, especially after the crusaders back in 85. They had all gone their separate ways. Polnareff had gone back to France, Joseph had gone back to America, Jotaro had left Japan shortly after graduating and was now a marine biologist as well as a husband and father.

And Kakyoin... He had decided that he would just stay in Japan and live a normal, quiet life. He had a office job in the heart of Tokyo, occasionally doing a bit of painting but over all the years he never forgot about the (h/C) haired female, he still had some delusional hope that he may one day get a response. He still remembered what he had written. A confession, a declaration and a promise of love for her.

🍒🍒🍒

It was like every Tuesday night. He was heading back to his apartment through a park when he saw two small children, a boy and girl around 5 and 7 playing around, he could tell they were foreigners.

One accidentally bumped into him and apologized before a woman ran towards them.

"I'm so sorry about that sir" a familiar voice said.

He felt the butterflies that had once been in his stomach as he saw her.

"(Y/n)..." Was all that came out of his mouth. The lady looked into his eyes. God he didn't think she could have gotten anymore beautiful but he had been proven wrong, she had aged so well.

"Kakyoin..." She softly replied before hugging him.

"God Kakyoin, it sure is a small world we live in" she said.

"Mommy who's this" the little girl asked. He felt his insides twist as he heard her say Mommy, had you really just forgotten him and just gotten with someone else.

"Oh he's a friend I made while I studied here years ago" she explained.

"Could you guys go on the play over there, I want to talk with with Kakyoin, if that's ok with you?" She said as she sat down on the small garden wall.

"Yes that's ok, I don't have any plans" he said as he sat next to her. The two children the ran around the park but always kept in her view.

"Wow I really can't believe you became a mother, where's the lucky man?" he sighed, he was truly horrified by this discovery.

"It's a long story" she sighed.

"I don't mind a long story" he said pulling a slightly amused voice in attempt to cheer you up.

"Well Paige and Matthew are actually my niece and nephew but their parents were involved in a horrific car crash, their father died instantly and their mother wasn't recovering in hospital. She knew that she wasn't going to make it... A few hours later she passed away as well, she told me she only wanted me to adopt them before she did, so for her dying wish I did, I've never been able to land a guy since then because let's be honest who wants to hustle with a single mom" she said before letting out a chuckle at the end. Relief washed over him, she hadn't settled down. He still had hope.

She look at the time before telling him she needed to get the kids back to her friend's house that she was staying at before giving him her number.

"If your free maybe I could take you to a bar on Friday? I just really want some more time to catch up" he said.

"Sure, I think that could work, I could have the kids stay home with Natsuko and her kids" she replied.

"Then it's settled"

🍒🍒🍒

"Is this the place?" she asked.

"Yes" he replied as he brought her into the small bar, it wasn't much and it didn't have a lot of patrons either but that's what he liked about it. She took a seat before waving the bartender over.

"Could I please order a long island iced tea?" She asked which the bartender nodded.

"That's pretty strong..." He remarked as he sat next to her.

"Yeah, but it's nice" she replied.

"And I'd like a Cherry buzz" he said.

"Cherry buzz? I've never heard of a cocktail like that" she said.

"Yeah it's one of this bars signature drinks. Cherry brandy, milk, and a shot of coffee. I know it's not the manliest of drinks but I enjoy it" he explained.

"So tell me what you done with your life besides becoming an instant mother?" He asked her before the bartender handed them their drinks.

"Well prior to being a mom wasn't much, I had boring job as a waitress but awhile after adopting Paige and Matthew I decided to become a children's book writer and illustrator. That's actually one of the reasons I came back to Japan, to get some inspiration for a new book and also to show the kids how great this place is" she explained before taking a sip.

"Wow that great to hear" he said.

"But I will warn you that Tokyo is very different to the rest of Japan, the Yakuza have their firm grip over it and target foreigners often, even I got scammed by them once" he continued.

"Really how?"

"It's kind of embarrassing, shortly after moving into Tokyo I went to a bar to get something to drink, a few ladies asked if they could sit by me and I said yes... Turns out the bar was linked to a nearby brothel and they were prostitutes... I hadn't done anything with them but the bar charged me an absurd amount for them because I'd had a few conversations with them. They wouldn't let me leave until I paid up" he explained before sipping his drink.

"Wow it's pretty scary how easily it can happen" she replied.

"Yeah" he lightly chuckled.

"Hey could I ask you something?" She asked.

"Sure, go ahead"

"What happened to you eyes?"

"oh just some unfriendly locals in Egypt"

The night went on and on and on, she kept saying she'd stop drinking but Kakyoin would insist here to have another one and told her he'd pay until she was buzzed up enough.

He sighed as he could feel her arms wrap around him, her mobility wasn't the best and she was nearly staggering. He completely relished in the fact that he was the one she was relying on.

"(Y/n) I'll take you home, it's to dangerous for you to walk by yourself" he cooed as he tangled his fingers in her soft locks while walking her through the city until she spoke up.

"We were supposed to make a left turn..." She muttered, a sliver of worry in her voice.

"I'm taking you back to mine, I'm sure Natsuko will understand that you just got a little bit too drunk" he said.

Despite the seeming kind act that Kakyoin was displaying she couldn't help but have that gut feeling telling her something was up.

"No no, I want to go back to her's please I know it's a little extra to walk but I'd just feel a bit safer there" she said but he ignored her and continued to follow his intended path until she began to struggle.

He quickly used his stand to control her. Her body pressed against his own as he finally got into his apartment. She muttered loving nothing to him and told him how much she loved him, but just using his stand to make her say it wasn't enough... He wanted her to say them honestly to him.

He lauded her on the small couch before locking the door. Then he released her from his possession.

She looked at him in fear as she realised what happened.

"Y...you, what did you do to me?" She stuttered.

"I knew you would try to run at some stage if I didn't, you should have no reason to be afraid of me but you seem to believe there is" he said as he approached the female who stood up. As he tried to embrace her she pushed him away.

"Leave me alone!" She screamed.

"(Y/n) calm down your drunkenness is effecting your mind" he explained as he tried to approach her again but I was becoming a repeating cycle of being pushed away. Eventually he grew sick and tired of this stupid game of back and forward.

Her body stiffened and moved unnaturally, like she was struggling against restraints. She couldn't see the cause but he could.

"Why?! Why are you-?!" She yelled before another of limb of his stand covered her mouth.

"(Y/n) I missed you so much after you left... I've been waiting for all these years hoping you would reply to my letter, I can't bare the thought of you leaving me again" he said.

"All I want is you, all I've ever wanted was you... I just want you to never leave me, I don't care about the fact that your a mother... I just want you to stay with me forever" he explained, almost as if he was on the verge of tears but his face did not reflect that sadness in his voice, the blank piercing gaze on his face showed the twisted emotion that he believed was love.

#yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere #kakyoin x reader #kakyoin noriko #kakyoin #spacy works

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writing-reading-inspiring · 5 years ago

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A Maddening World (Peter Parker X Reader) - Chapter One

Summary: (y/n) was only trying to get volunteer hours in order to gain admission into NYU. However, the Stark Mental Institution held more than she bargained for when she meets her patient, Peter Parker. She never planned to get mixed up with someone who is set on the idea that an alien named Thanos snapped half of all living creatures away and made everyone else forget, yet here she is. The universe has a funny way of trying to correct itself.

Chapter One ~ Chapter Two ~ Chapter Three

My life loves to be one adventure after another, which is why I was hoping to have a calm summer. Of course, this couldn’t happen. At least it couldn’t once my school counselor told me that I could kiss my dreams of going to NYU down the drain if I don’t get something impressive on my resume.

This is what led me to currently be on my way to the famous Stark Mental Institution with my best friend and life saver, Liz Allen. We're part of a program that takes in young teens from local high schools and gives them a summer volunteer opportunities. It's great on college applications, so why not? We're about 5 minutes away and I still have no idea what I'm going to do. We're supposed to get a talk about how we should go around and help the patients when we get there. Luckily, we’ve been assured that none of the patients that we’ll be working with are dangerous, which is why we’re allowed to be a sort of nurse to them. The silence in the car was thick until Liz broke it. "How do you think it will go?" "I don't know. Good, I hope," I replied, nervously picking at my cuticles. Silence rested over us again until we pulled up to the building. We piled out and I watched as our cab driver blended into the heavy New York traffic. I turn to find a man in a crisp black suit, that looked to be about in his 40's. "Hello, my name is Mr. Hogan, I'm the head of staff and security here," the man spoke, "If you would please follow me."

He turned and walked off into the building. We followed until he stopped in front of the elevator. "On the 4th floor to the right at the end of the hall there is a volunteer break room. There you will find your patient profiles and exactly what to do with them. There should be a schedule that you must follow exactly. Please do not say anything about your patient or their schedule. Each of you have a desk that holds your uniforms. Everything is very simple and straightforward. With both of your recommendations that we’ve received, I’m sure that you’ll be able to handle the two patients. Just be sure to follow your instructions and use common sense. If you have any questions, ask a staff member or me if I’m not too busy. If either of you have any questions, ask now," Mr. Hogan informed us. Neither of us said anything, so Mr. Hogan nodded his head. "If that’s all, I will be leaving you two on your own."

With that, Mr. Hogan walked down the hallway to what I could only presume is his office.

When we walked onto the elevator Liz began to speak, "He seems pretty happy with his job, don’t you think?” I couldn’t help but giggle at her remark.

I made sure to press the button for the 4th floor and we started our ascent.

“Anyway, why do we have to do exactly what the schedule says?" "Probably because they want the patients to be on a schedule and they don't want to disrupt it" I replied to her. Right after I said that the doors open to reveal a long hallway. The walls were white and the floors were marble tile. There were huge windows in the middle. As we were passing by them I could see a massive garden. We reached the end and opened the door that said volunteers only. The room was a decent size, only containing a fridge, two tables with chairs surrounding them, and several desks. We went to the desk with our respective names on them and began rummaging around. I was able to locate my uniform on the top right hand drawer. They weren’t much, just black yoga pants and a blue shirt that had the name of the hospital on it. We also got badges that allowed us to walk around the hospital without being questioned. Liz was first to look at the profile and schedule that we were given. I could see her face goes through different emotions like confusion, surprise, and even anger. “What’s up Liz? You don’t seem too happy,” I told her.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just I was kind of hoping to be able to help my brother,” she told me while raising her head.

“I’m sorry, Liz. I’m sure it’s just company policy though. I mean, you could give special treatment to family members. Anyways, who do you have anyway?”

“Oh, I guess giving the name can’t really put anyone in harm's way. My patients name is Brad Davis. What about you?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, “Oh, I haven’t even looked yet hold on.”

I pulled out the manila office folder than was underneath my uniform. I quickly went over it: Name: Peter Parker Age: 18 Gender: Male Race: Caucasian Family: May Parker Emergency Contact: (347)-625-6396 Room: Floor 6 - Room 621 Mental Illness: Major Depression, Anxiety Disorder, PTSD, Delusional Disorder Other disorders: N/A Medication: Two Pills During Each Meal Additional Information: Believes That Man Named Thanos Destroys Half Of The Population & Made It So No One Remembers Schedule: 8:00 - 8:30 ~ Breakfast & Take Pills 8:30 - 9:00 ~ Personal Hygiene 9:00 - 11:00 ~ See Therapist 11:00 - 12:00 ~ Exercise 12:00 - 12:30 ~ Lunch & Take Pills 12:30 - 1:00 ~ Free Time 1:00 - 2:30 ~ Schooling 2:30 - 4:00 ~ Socializing 4:00 - 6:00 ~ See Therapist 6:00 - 6:30 ~ Dinner & Take Pills 6:30 - 7:00 ~ Free Time 7:00 - 8:00 ~ Quiet Hour 8:00 ~ Bed When I was done reading I looked up to find Liz looking at me expectantly.

“His name is Peter Parker,” I told her.

She nodded her head as I looked at the clock, only to realize that it was already 7:50.

My eyes widened, “We have to go, Liz. I’ll see you tonight or if we run into each other at one point.” We quickly said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. I ran to the elevator and hit the button for floor 6. On the way up I looked over his profile again. I wonder how an 18 year old person can be like this. As soon as the elevator doors open I step out only to run into someone. "Sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going," they apologized. "No it's my fault I shouldn't have rushed out," I took a second to look him over and soon realize that he is really cute with brown eyes and black hair, "my name is (y/n)." "Brad Davis" "Well it’s nice to meet you Brad, I’m glad I was able to meet someone new on my first day." "What do you mean?" "Oh, sorry. That was pretty vague. I'm a part of the volunteer program." "Oh, I heard about that. Well it's a shame I can't spend the summer with you. I’m one of the patients whose a part of it" "Yeah, well you get to spend it with someone else who I’m sure is amazing."

“Yeah, but they might not be as pretty,” he told me with a smug smirk.

I couldn’t help but blush at the comment.

Luckily he decided to save me from my misery and ask, "So who do you have?" "Oh, Peter Parker." "Parker, huh? Yeah I'm his friend, cool guy, at least from what I can tell. It's hard to know since he doesn't speak much." "Yeah, well I really should go, but it was nice meeting you." "You too, I would really hurry though, you only have 2 minutes and his room is all the way at the end of the hall to the right." "Thanks, I'll see you around." "I hope so." With that he left, leaving me in front of the elevator door. I snapped back into reality and hurried down the hall, earning me some pitiful glances from nurses and doctors. Brad seems like a nice guy and I'm starting to regret not getting him as my patient, but I'm sure I'll see him around. I couldn't believe I'm crushing on a patient and I've only been here for 10 minutes. I keep walking until I see the number 621 on the plate next to the door. 8:00, perfect timing. As I walked in, what I saw was not what I was expecting. There in a chair sat a boy with messy, yet curly brown hair that looked like he just came in from a windy day and chocolate colored eyes that made you feel as though everything would be alright. He turns his head from the window and gives me a smile that lets me know how much of a puppy dog he truly is. He opens his mouth to utter a word that turned my life around. "Hi"

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lilacsos · 5 years ago

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Doctor!AU: Awsten pt. 1

A/N: So fun fact, this is the third time I have tried to post it and I’m going crazy. Anyway, I’m very excited about this series and I’m looking forward to Awsten’s story and not just because I have his planned out the most. I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I do!

*Warnings*: Language, mentions of surgery on a child

Word Count:

Masterlist Character Info Taglist

Day 7: Surgical Interns

No one likes a cocky intern and Awsten was cocky. He made himself sound amazing and constantly threw himself into a conversation. He fought hard to be the best surgical intern his resident had and the truth was, he did a great job at it. He worked extra hours and he made sure everyone knew about it. If his shift started at five in the morning, he was at the hospital no later than 4:30. He refused to be late and he refused to be given the boring cases. If he wanted to prove he was the best, he needed his talents to be used in the best way they could.

The residents and attendings all took notice of this. Awsten’s hard work was not in vain. While this was only his seventh day of work, his reputation easily floated around the hospital. He quickly became known as the intern that put himself on a pedestal above the rest and he deserved to be. The chief of the surgery department has even mentioned him in passing before and called him the best intern since Leah. Which said a lot about Awsten and his talent. He was really amazing and he knew it.

No one likes a cocky intern but everyone hates an intern that’s cocky and has the talent to back it up.

Awsten waltzed his way into the locker room, changing into his scrubs when he reached his locker. He was excited; today was another day he had the chance to prove that he was the best. It was also another day to make Sage Peterson eat her words. Bitch knew nothing about him. Awsten was amazing and he was going to be the best surgeon in the country and it’s her fault for not believing him. When he reaches the top and she’s begging him to be his friend and work with him, she’s going to wish she believed him in the first place.

Dr. Stevens, Awsten’s resident, pushed the locker room door open and glared at his interns. “Alright, here’s what’s happening today. Williams and Davis, go down to the ER and help them out. Knight and Peterson, you’ll be doing rounds with me. And French, congrats, Dr. Hood requested that you scrub in on a surgery with him today.”

The group all went their separate ways while Awsten ran to catch up with Stevens. “Sir! I just want to know why French gets to work with Dr. Hood today and I have to do rounds.”

“Knight, they did rounds yesterday. You’re delusional if you think that you don’t have to do rounds at some point. Besides,” Stevens spoke, a smirk gracing his features as he continued, “Hood requested to have anyone that wasn’t, and I quote, ‘that cocky intern that Leah isn’t fond of.’ So Knight, you think you’re hot shit but the best surgical attending hates your guts.”

Awsten stood in shock, staring at his resident. Did Dr. Rosario really hate him? How could she? She’s only spoken to Awsten a handful of times so why did she already have an opinion on him? Well, Awsten might have known the reason why. If his reputation really did travel around the hospital, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to believe that she heard how cocky he was. So, his next step on his quest to becoming the best, is making Dr. Rosario like him. Peterson slowed her stride to walk next to Awsten as they followed Stevens to a patient's room. “He called you out. Even the best surgeons have to talk to patients. You seem to think you’re the best.”

“Because I am. Everyone says that I’m the best.”

“Except for Rosario. She finds you annoying.” Sage whispered with a wicked smile as she passed him on her way to catch up with Stevens.

At lunch, Awsten took a seat next to Vanessa and Michael, throwing his tray down next to theirs. “Rosario apparently hates me and she’s hardly spoken to me. Do you know how crazy that it? This is so stupid. Just because I’m good at what I do doesn’t mean anything about me as a person. She hasn’t even met me really. I’m amazing and I am a great surgeon! My very first day I did amazing work and I took a doll head out of a kid. They don’t allow any intern to do that and I did it. I showed my worth to everyone in the room and they were beyond impressed with me. I’m amazing.”

Vanessa sighed and took the pudding cup off of Awsten’s tray. “Listen buddy, you’re cocky. We all know this and the fact is, nobody likes cocky people. And from what I’ve been told, Rosario hates them, because it’s just a matter of time before they mess up and need to get their ass kicked. At least that’s what Ashton told me.”

“Ashton? You call your boss by his first name?”

Vanessa blushed darkly and gathered her things. “He told me to. And you know what Awsten, if you’re so worried about Rosario liking you, stop being so cocky and be an intern. You know, someone who’s there to learn because they don’t know everything. You’re one of us so act like it.” She huffed before storming off.

Michael, who had been trying to keep quiet now looked at Awsten with a frown. “She’s right you know. Interns don’t know everything and they do this program to learn from the best. You can’t learn if you already think you’re so great. Why are you so cocky anyway?”

“Because I’m the best. I’m going to be the greatest surgeon ever. That’s why I’m cocky.”

Michael could tell that he was lying but if Awsten didn’t want to tell him the truth then what was he going to do? He hoped that one day Awsten would trust himself and the others to share why he really acts like that but at this rate, Michael didn’t know if that would happen. He had an idea about what was going on in Awsten’s head and he was pretty sure he was right but he can’t tell unless Awsten wants to share. Michael stood and grabbed his trash. “Look Awsten, this cockiness is gonna come back to bite you in the ass. Someone is gonna get pissed and they’re going to do something about it. Look out for yourself.”

Awsten sighed and stared down at his food. What was Michael even talking about? No one would seriously sabotage him or anything. Right?

“Knight, tell me about your patient.” Stevens huffed, arms crossed over his chest.

“This is Mrs. Jenny Phillips. She’s 37 and she’s here because she needs a new heart. We’re waiting on a donation for her so we can replace her ticker and get her back to having a normal life.” Awsten stated with a large smile, feeling like he had done everything right.

“Good. What’s her blood type?”

Awsten’s smile faltered as he looked at his patient. He didn’t remember. How could he possibly forget his patient’s blood type? Frantically, he grabbed her files but when he flipped it open, the pages were gone. “Sir, her chart is missing.”

“You lost a patient's chart? Knight, how stupid are you? This is not something you can lose and hope you’ll survive without it. That chart has everything about the patient and without it she could die! What happens if you give her a pain killer and she’s allergic to it? What if she has a history that completely changes how we proceed with her surgery? Get out. You’re done for the day.”

Awsten huffed and stormed out of the room but not before he caught a shit-eating grin on Sage’s face. Fucking bitch hid his papers. Awsten paced around the hallway, wondering if he should even bother to tell Stevens what happened. He had no proof and since he didn’t like Awsten, the chances of him believing him were very slim. This was insane. Michael had said that someone wasn’t going to like what he did and the guy was right. Peterson had it out for him since their first day but he never thought she would go this far. He was going to have to get back at her for it somehow but he couldn’t do the same thing to her. Awsten was already walking on thin ice with Stevens and one wrong move could end his whole career. He had to be sneaky. Or, he could get back to being the best and showing off so everyone likes him again and they all hate her. That sounded like a very good plan in his mind.

“Knight?” Awsten looked around him and saw Dr. Rosario at the other end of the hall. Holy shit, was she talking to him? He didn’t see anyone else in the hall so she could only be talking to him. He was also the only Knight in the hospital but that wasn’t the point. “Good, that is you. You, your resident, and I are talking to the chief. Follow me.”

Awsten stared at her for a few seconds before he ran after her, meeting up with Stevens on the way. The three of them sat in the chief’s office, listening to her speak. “This needs to stop. Dr. Knight, you need to step off your pedestal. You may be a good intern but that does not mean you get to walk around this hospital telling patients that you’re the best doctor they’ll have and no one else will compare.”

Awsten quickly shook his head and looked at Stevens briefly. “With all respect Dr. Keller, I have never said that to a patient.”

“Then why did Dr. Stevens tell me that his other interns have heard you say this?”

“They’re lying then. Peterson, she stole my chart this morning so I couldn’t tell Dr. Stevens everything about my patient.” Awsten cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. “Ma’am, I know I’m cocky but I’m not stupid and I would never put another doctor down like that.”

“Even if you didn’t, Dr. Stevens has said that your ego is so large it’s hard to work with. You cannot be a successful doctor if you never get to work with others because you have a big head.” At this, Leah snorted but quickly silenced herself with one look from the chief. “So here’s what is going to happen. Stevens, tell Dr. Greene that you need one of her interns. Knight is no longer your intern.”

Stevens smiled brightly and nodded his head, leaning back into his seat. “Then why am I here?” Leah asked, suddenly terrified that she was going to have to babysit Awsten.

“Knight isn’t kicked out of the program because of his ego. He just needs someone to deflate his big head. That’s where you come in Leah. Awsten will be shadowing you for the rest of his internship or until his attitude improves.” Before anyone could protest, Dr. Keller stood and walked over to her office door, opening it and gesturing for everyone to leave. Reluctantly, they all stood and stepped out of the room.

“He has to follow me wherever I go?” Leah asked before the office door closed.

“Everywhere. When you work, he works. No exceptions. You want to be chief one day Leah, prove to me you can work under,” she paused, looking at Awsten who was standing across the hall, “difficult circumstances. You can do this.”

Stevens laughed as he walked away from the two, leaving them in silence. Awsten was almost certain that they would be in silence in the hallway forever until Leah spoke. “Alright, you don’t talk to me unless you have to. Keep your distance. I know you have to follow me but that doesn’t mean you need to be in my personal space. When I’m in surgery, you do exactly as I tell you. I don’t care if you think you know best. I am in charge of you.” Leah grumbled, seething with hatred. She began to stomp out of the hall, causing Awsten to run after her. “And one last thing, if I’m with my friends you keep your mouth shut and don’t talk to them. Got it, Intern?”

“My name is Awsten.” He mumbled, rolling his eyes as he continued to follow her.

“I’ll kill you. I’ll stab you in the middle of surgery and no one will know. Shut up and let’s go.”

On his very first day, Awsten said he wanted to work with Leah. He knew she was an amazing surgeon and all he wanted was to gain a little of her wisdom so that he could one day be as incredible as her or at least a little close to her level. He wanted to be great and learning from Leah would do just that but he didn’t think that she would be this rude to him. She really thought that he was going to be a total piece of shit. Well, he was going to have to make sure that she saw a different side to him. He was going to be a perfect surgeon and he was going to be a great person. At least, he was going to try. “My name is Awsten. Call me Awsten or Dr. Knight. I went to medical school and I was the best and the top of my class; I am a doctor. It would be nice to be treated like one.”

Leah sighed and rubbed her face, turning to look at Awsten. “Don’t talk to me like that. You are my intern now and I will call you Intern if I want to. And then if you somehow manage to earn my respect, then I’ll give it to you. Now, shut up and follow me.”

Awsten couldn’t stop the small smirk that crossed his face as he watched Leah walk away. He was going to get her respect and she was going to like him. And she’s pretty hot when she’s mad too.

Taglist:

@emilyxvalentyne @valentinelrh @loti18 @lustingfor5sos @mycollectionofnuts @ohhmuke @softboycal @norawashere @who-do-you-love-5sos @aftermidnightclifford @buggy-blogs @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt

#doctor!au #doctor!sos #doctor!awsten #doctor!awsten knight #doctor!awsten waterparks

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just-another-winchester · 6 years ago

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Living Nightmares Do Come True

An Endless Maiden voyage

Chapter Two

Pairing: Dean x y/n

Word Count: 2724

Summary: During a fight with a djinn you get sent into your dreams. Soon finding out Dean and Sam are stuck in your dream as well you have to find a way out of your dream before it becomes your worst nightmare.

Warnings: Angst, violence, death

And more endless thanks to the girl who puts up with my meness, miss @amanda-teaches

For the next couple of hours, you stayed on deck, struggling to keep an eye on Dean.

Your best guess was that he was an officer or deck crew, but you couldn’t really tell. The navy sweatshirt seemed to be at the back of your mind, but you still couldn’t place it.

Even though you knew where you were, you felt relaxed. The sea breeze was whisking your stray hairs about, while also cooling your sunbathed arms.

The port of Southampton had disappeared from sight more than an hour ago, and all that was left was the wide open sea.

Your mind wandered. You felt twisted and confused.

While being on the Titanic was something you’d never have imagined or hoped for, you were almost grateful for the experience, dream or not. Your only concern was the Winchester on the deck below.

You couldn’t figure out how he was here. Was the djinn playing some sort of game? Was this a fluke? Or was Dean Winchester somehow, just, always haunting your dreams?

However he got here, you knew, at this point, you couldn’t just leave him, and not only because he wouldn’t let you jump. If this was Dean, and you got out of the nightmare, what would happen? Would he wake up as well? Or would he be trapped?

You let out a sigh as you moved from watching Dean to staring at the wide ocean. It seemed like there was nothing but endless sea.

You heard steps come up from behind you and noticed a presence beside you, mimicking your actions of leaning over and resting on the railing.

“It’s an awful lot of ocean, isn’t it?” spoke a familiar voice.

You turned to see the man who was talking to you and found Sam, dressed nicely in a dark pair of slacks with a white color peeking out from underneath the matching black vest and jacket.

His hair was slicked back in a way that almost reminded you of Grease and you didn’t know if you wanted to laugh at him or accept defeat and try jumping again.

You simply groaned and buried your face in your hands.

“Really!?” you muttered, looking up at the sky.

Sam straightened up and looked at you with a concerned expression.

“Are you alright?” he questioned.

You shook your head in frustration. “And lemme guess, you don’t know me either,” you said, turning back to the railing.

“Uhm, darling, perhaps you need to lie down,” Sam suggested. He outstretched his arms in an attempt to reach for your waist, but you stepped back instantly and gave him a cautious look.

“Answer the question,” you demanded,

“Of course I know you, sweetheart, you’re my wife,” he stated, before asking again. “Are you sure you’re feeling well, you don’t quite seem yourself.”

Your jaw dropped, yet again.

“God, this really is a nightmare,” you muttered. “I’m on a doomed steamship that’s been a wreck on the ocean floor for more than a century and I’m married to my boyfriend's brother. That… that’s just fantastic.”

“Y/N, come lie down please,” Sam said again.

You turned to him and shook your head. “No, I don’t need to lie down, I need to get off this damn ship and back home!” you nearly yelled at him.

Now you had two Winchesters to worry about. This was too weird to fully comprehend. You couldn’t figure out what was going on, and the only one that might have had a clue was Sam, but, unfortunately, he was delusional, so you were stuck.

You looked down again to find Dean, but, after a moment of scanning over the deck, you found he was nowhere to be seen. Panic gripped your heart, and you quickly made a break for the stairs.

You opened the small gate door that separated the classes’ decks and ran down the stairs, once again making a beeline for the edge. A smirk dressed your face as you were certain that Dean would intervene.

And once again, he did.

He didn’t tackle you this time, he just blocked you and held on for a second so you wouldn’t topple over again. You laughed as you stepped away from him.

“Well you can certainly be counted on, can’t you?” you said, placing your hands on your hips.

“Miss, you need to go to the doctor. I have a job to do, I can’t be worrying that you’ll get lost in the ocean!” He was red-faced and clearly irritated, but you just laughed.

“But you are worrying, aren’t ya!?” you demanded. “Dean, whatever’s going on, snap out of it. It’s not a joke anymore. I’m apparently married to Sam, and I don’t know why either of you are here, but we need to get off this ship!”

“I don’t know who Sam is, and I don’t know who you are, so please, miss, return to this ‘Sam’ so I can get back to my job!”

It seemed like Sam was there in the blink of an eye, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you alright, why were you running?” he demanded.

Sam had always been your best friend, he was the sweetest guy, and very caring. You knew he would make a girl very happy, and you were sad that he couldn’t be with someone, but you were just uncomfortable in this situation. The Winchesters don’t fawn like Sam was doing here. They get things done, and, if you get hurt along the way, they help you take care of it.

You pushed Sam off and glared down both men.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but both of you need to snap out of this! We are not in 1912, we are in a djinn induced dream and, somehow, I think you both got caught in my dream. But, whatever the case, you both need to wake up! I need help getting out of here, and I’m not sticking around for this thing to sink beneath our feet!”

There was a moment of silence. Distant chatter from others was the only thing you could hear for a minute.

“You, think the Titanic will sink?” Dean demanded before breaking out laughing. “You think the Titanic will sink!” he cackled. “That’s not possible!”

Sam was a bit more reserved about his opinion, although a smile broke across his face, and he shook his head.

“Y/N, I told you already. This ship is practically unsinkable, it’s a lifeboat in and of itself.”

“Okay, you said practically unsinkable.” you pointed out.

Sam seemed flustered by this. “Well, I mean…nothing is a certainty,” he explained, “but, as I said, the ship is its own lifeboat.”

“Then why are there lifeboats?” you asked. “If it’s a lifeboat all by itself, then they shouldn’t need lifeboats. I know that you two are out of it right now, but I am telling you the God’s honest truth and I need you both to hear me!”

You were trying hard to stay calm but it was getting harder and harder to not just push them over the edge yourself.

“Sam, you said it yourself, nothing is a certainty. I really need you both to wake up, if not now, then soon, before the 14th. I refuse to be on this...” You lost your words, shaking your head. “Just, trust me…I know it doesn’t seem possible, but nothing is foolproof.”

There was silence among the three of you. Once again, you could only hear a bit of chatter from other people around the deck, but the conversation seemed to have ended.

You felt hopeless and walked away from the two. You decided to go to the library, hoping you could find a book with some information that might help you. You had no phone, no laptops, this was before they even had sound in movies. Your only hope was that the library might have something useful.

You couldn’t help but think about everything going on. Sam, Dean, this crazy nightmare. You were internally groaning at the thought of being here even one more day, and you didn’t know how much time you had in the real world, how far away were you from being killed? Were Sam and Dean in trouble from this as well?

You had no idea how much time you ended up spending in the library. You pulled out every book, anything on mythology, on something weird or different. You were desperate, but in your hours of searching, nothing was found. You were stuck.

You closed the last book and looked up. No one was in the library, which you personally found odd, but you dismissed it, as you had more to worry about than an unusually empty library.

You rubbed your tired eyes, leaning over and resting your forehead on the book you’d just finished while placing your interlaced hands on the back of your neck.

“This can’t be happening.” You practically wanted to cry. With each minute that passed, you found yourself more and more anxious to escape, as well as more and more terrified that you would have to endure one of your worst fears.

While shipwrecks were something that fascinated you, they also terrified you. There were plenty of ways to die because of a shipwreck.

You could die from exposure, from drowning, from hypothermia. If you’re in the wrong area you could get eaten, of course, but that was just more of your paranoia coming into play.

Very few of the people who died actually drowned, at least, and very few of the bodies that were recovered had drowned.

Most of whoever was left on the sea passed from hypothermia, although only around 300 bodies were found, which wasn’t even half the number of lives lost.

Many people were probably pulled down by the suction of the great ship. And, anyone that was pulled down that far would likely not even have had remains in 1912. That far down, their bodies would have been crushed to nothing, and all that would have been left of them was their shoes, their coats, and their material belongings to tell their story.

You had to keep reminding yourself that this was just a terrible nightmare. You were stuck in your mind and not back in time. This was not reality.

And yet, it felt so real.

You sat up as a thought entered your mind.

“I killed a djinn,” you remembered.

The first djinn that attacked, you killed it. But there were two djinns.

“That’s why I’m in a nightmare, and why Dean and Sam are here. This is his payback.”

It made sense in a way. The thing gave you a nightmare instead of a dream and added to it by posing the threat of losing the two most important people in your life.

Your nightmare wasn’t being on the ship, it was watching it sink and knowing that Sam and Dean, as men, were very likely to die.

In 1912, an importance would have been placed on the women, on the mothers and children, and, because of that, the highest percentage of dead were men. 80% of the men on the Titanic died because of how things were in the Edwardian and Victorian age. It was back during a time where men generally played the role of primary caregivers, who placed the women above themselves in survival, although it’s certain all men didn’t do that. There were cases on the Titanic where, in the panic, the men, who were so desperate to save themselves, didn’t put the women first, but most did.

If you remembered correctly, you even recalled reading a book that stated that once Ismay, the White Star Line chairman and owner of Titanic and her sister ships, realized that women and children had perished on the ship, he was reportedly never the same. There were also stories, of a few women claiming they were grateful their husbands had died instead of having taken the place from a woman.

Because of all this, if you were going to be here on that night, Dean and Sam, especially considering who they are, would likely decide to find any other way to survive and insist that others take a place in a lifeboat before them.

You sat back in the chair, arms limp at your sides as you tried to make sense of your jumbled thoughts, but you felt tired, exhausted actually, like you’d just spent the past few hours sobbing.

Leaning over the books, you tried reading again, but your eyes started swimming and you could tell that any more research simply wasn’t gonna happen.

You rested your head in your hands, closing your eyes.

---

You woke up back in the bed from before, not even remembering having fallen asleep. This time there was another person in the room. You turned over to see a pair of legs and let out a sleepy groan.

Sam leaned over with a soft smile.

“You’re awake, I found you in the library last night. It seemed as if you’d dozed off,” he said softly to you.

You wanted to turn back over and fall back asleep, pretend this was all just the nightmare that it was, but that you weren’t actually trapped in it. However, you knew you couldn’t waste any time. You simply had to get out, you had to wake Sam and Dean and get their help.

“I saw some of the books you were reading, those were uh… interesting choices,” you heard Sam speak again.

His words made you chuckle as you shook your head. Finally, you climbed out of the bed and looked up at him.

“You think I’m crazy,” you said, posing it as a statement, but leaving it open for his response. You turned away from him as you looked in the mirror, the wash basin had clean, clear water in it, and you used that to splash your face when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders.

“I think you’re tired, and I know you don’t like not being on solid, dry land.”

Despite the fact that this was all a bad dream, this Sam still seemed to know you just as well as the other one had. Sam was someone you counted on when Dean’s bullheadedness took him over, and he wouldn’t listen to reason. He was your best friend, and your brother, but in this twisted world of yours, you would have to accept the fake role of wife for at least a while, just to get through this. Pushing him away would do no good.

Pushing a Winchester away never did any good, they care too much.

“Would you like to go up and look about on deck? Fresh air might help you if you’re feeling unwell.”

You reached out and lifted the brush from its place on the shelf below the mirror. You began brushing your hair out, sifting through your thoughts.

“What time is it?” you asked him softly.

“Just after 11:30,” Sam responded.

You pulled your hair up and looked down at yourself. Your dress from the night before was wrinkled and mussy, tangled slightly around your legs and also bunched up uncomfortably. Your eyes caught a suitcase beneath the couch.

“Would you go on, I would like to change and finish washing up. I’ll be up in a bit,” you told him.

He simply nodded and stepped back, leaving the room without another word.

You bent down and pulled out the suitcase, opening it to find a couple of dresses, some skirts, and some shirts. You pulled out one dress and began getting undressed to put on the fresh one.

Your brain was working as you pulled on the new dress, trying to come up with a plan of how to wake the guys from this dream world and remind them of the truth.

A smirk slowly began slipping onto your face as a plan formulated in your mind, turning into a full out grin as you pulled on your shoes. You examined yourself in the mirror to make sure you looked alright before turning to the door.

“Bingo,” you said to yourself as you opened the door and stepped out, heading to the upper decks to meet up with Sam.

You knew exactly how to wake them up.

MY TAG LIST IS WIDE OPEN!!

Dream Team

@spn67-sister @queen-of-deans-booty @ria132love@winchestergeekfreak @maui137 @katymacsupernatural@jayneysimp @emoryhemsworth @just-another-busy-fangirl @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @mogaruke @kristendanwayne@cassieraider @squirrel-moose-winchester @hms-fangirl@heyitscam99

Dean Team

@akshi8278 @polina-93 @aubreystilinski @-lovepeacenhope- @waywardbaby97 @missjenniferb @whimsicalrobots @rainflowermoonlibrary

Titanic Tags

@claitynroberts @atc74 @woodworthti666 @strangedeerconnoisseur

#titanic #supernatural titanic miniseries #supernatural titanic fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #titanic story #dean winchester #sam winchester #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #chapter two #dean x reader

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smolbeandrabbles · 6 years ago

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Quit Breaking Up With Me - Fraser x Reader (Black Sea)

Authors Note: Fraser... Fraser... What can I say about Fraser? I have enough ideas and content for a #ThreePartRetCon? Yes... That’ll do it. I find Fraser to be a mix of Danny/Kev/Andrew in personality with the way I write him. But let me know what you think...!? This is definitely build up for your later two parts... my goodness...! Also also, I’d like to give a quick shout out to Kingston on Thames for the date scene. Bless your river scenery! Fraser is also... his last name? I think? That’s how they all refer to each other... But in this case it’s his first name. Disclaimer: AU/RETCON. I was not about to go through all that to accept the ending. Sorry. Wasn’t happening. You can’t pull a vertical limit on me twice in one day Ben, I won’t accept it. Characters from Black Sea are not mine! Premise: Ever since he’d saved your life Fraser had been stuck with you. He knew it, you knew it. That still didn’t stop arguments from spiraling out of control... Words: 3500 Warnings: injury/almost death / swearing / angsty arguing every 5 minutes?

You say it's over, with a middle finger But then you're calling before I turn off my ringer And I answer 'cause I love to hear you're sorry for the 400th time Well, You try to leave me, but you can't do it 'Cause I'm the only one who puts up with your (censorship) I know that secretly you love making out with me right after we fight

We're always fixing something that was never broken We're on and off again like sobriety Get back together every time you're done throwing a fit So when you gonna quit breaking up with me? You think by now, we'd finally get along But we only feel right when everything is going wrong And we're back in the habit of cussing each other up and down I hate your daddy, you hate my momma, But one thing we don't seem to hate is all the drama... I don't know where you think you're going Because you're stuck with me forever and you know it!

--- “Come on!!! COME ON!!! Y/N! Breathe! OH GOD! Girl! Come on!!! Y/N!! You can’t die on me!! Not you!” Fraser was panicked. He’d seen diving accidents before but this one was bad. You weren’t breathing, and you were bleeding everywhere. Which to tend to first though-!?! Oh, what the hell was the point in stemming the bleeding if you weren’t going to live-! He took a deep breath, he knew CPR. He could do this! “C’mon..! Come on! BREATHE!!” Taking another of his own, he tipped your head gently opening your airways – he didn’t even think about it, as he pressed his lips to yours and breathed. Interlocking his hands exactly as he’d been taught, he pushed them to the middle of your chest. Okay… okay… He kept his eyes on the watch to time his rhythm. He’d never lost a diver. He wasn’t about to start now. It was only him and you. And you were out here alone. There probably wasn’t a person or phone for miles, and all your stuff was back in a locker on the mainland. He cursed himself for that. You should have something on the boat. Both of you knew the dangers of diving. He refused to let himself get tired as he attempted again and again to resuscitate you. COME ON! DAMMIT---! Fraser was on the verge of tears, when suddenly your watch beeped. It has picked up a heartbeat. YES-! Come on!! Come on!! One more time – he could do this once more. And suddenly you were coughing up sea water and it was disgusting. Ugh-! What!? What had happened. You blinked against the light, and were well aware of pressure being applied to your lower abdomen. You flicked your eyes downwards, only to see Fraser hovering over you. “…Did you…” Your voice was weak and you felt another bout of coughing coming on; sea water did NOT taste good-! He looked to your face “OH GOD-! Don’t try to speak! Geez! I gotta get you back to land and to a hospital! Y/N! This is bad!” You tried again; “I’m trying to THANK you dammit! You just saved my life!” “I KNOW! Will you SHUT up! It won’t be worth it if we don’t get this looked at – it’s pretty deep!” You sighed, coughing again, and then laughed. “IT’S NOT FUNNY!!” “Did you use CPR!?” “What ELSE was I meant to do--! You were dead!” Fraser kept one hand over the wound and moved up your body, trying to get you more comfortable. He looked so worried. “…Oh my god… You scared the life… outta me…” You grinned, and he still didn’t think it was funny “Well, how the hell ELSE was I supposed to get you to kiss me!?” His eyes widened and he suddenly flushed bright red; "W-well now you're just being delusional!” His eyes couldn’t meet yours; and he knew by the beep of his own watch that his heart was racing, and you knew it too. “…T…That’s the lack of… oxygen to your brain and blood loss t-talking!!!” ** It’d been 8 years since that moment. And boy, had it been the longest 8 years of your life. Fighting. Breaking up. Making up. Him in and out of prison. Your countdown clocks... But you never left. He never threatened it, and breaking up lasted all of about 5 minutes before you were chasing after him and telling him to come home. Or tugging his hand and begging him to stay.... That was you and Fraser... You weren’t sure you hadn’t been better as friends; the only problem being you were good lovers. The arguments were always about the same thing. They needed him to do one more dive. But it was always one more dive. And you never understood why he always had to be away for so long. It panicked you, and you had a scar to tell him exactly why. You hadn’t dived properly since the accident; not to those kinds of depths. But it was his job... Sometimes you wouldn’t hear from him for months, and you just had to guess that it was okay. Sometimes you didn't think he was going for the reasons he told you, either. On occasion the dives seemed to be at least half legal. And he would get tech and signals that wavered in and out continuously. You almost felt that was worse though. Seeing him hurt you more. It made you miss him more... Sometimes you wondered if you fought because you both knew the make-up sex would be Awesome. Still that was really no reason to fight at all... Or you were arguing about the other thing he seemed particularly good at. Getting into trouble. Enough trouble to be arrested; and by now you'd lost count. In fact it’d happened so many times you'd actually got to know the group of officers that always came by your place to pick him up. Including the one time the most senior man had turned to you; “... Don't you get sick of this?” You'd folded your arms, leaning against the door frame, watching the apologetic look Fraser threw you as they loaded him into the car - Yeah right-! If he meant that look, he'd never get himself into these situations - and looked to the officer wearily; “... Don't you?" Luckily the prison sentences were only ever months at a time too. You didn't think you could take being away from him for years. Would you even still be here if that as the case? You knew you would. That wasn't even a question. You'd wait for him even if it was agony. And it always was agony... ** “Don’t you ever think about coming along...?” You smiled, hand in his, the both of you swinging your legs over the river below; “No!” “Never?” “No!” “...Why?” And you knew he was referring to everything that wasn’t your injury. The accident hadn’t stopped you from diving per se. But only stopped you from diving beyond a certain depth. The didn’t mean you didn’t get cold sweats about it. But even when you did, trying to separate you from your two greatest loves when they were so entwined was far too difficult. The sun was beating down on London today and you’d persuaded Fraser to take you on a date. Open spaces were a bigger deal for him than closed spaces were. But closed spaces with his personality was problematic at best. And even if you’d ever be INVITED as a female, you didn’t want to get caught up in that. Fraser never came back completely intact and neither did his sanity. Still, there must have been something about diving, because he still never lost a man - and they still trusted him like no-one else... You rested your head on his shoulder with just the tiniest groan; “When do you leave?” “... 2 weeks. It’s a short trip. State of the art vessel! We’ll be able to communicate...” he squinted just a little “Maybe. Probably. God I hope...” You removed one of your hands from his and kneaded his arm gently “How short is short?” “... I dunno. A week. A few days. Guess we’ll meet up soon.” Fraser’s eyes were still cast out over the water; you could feel it already. The tension that always wound him up. Torn between leaving you when he knew how much you hated seeing him go. And diving; about the only thing consistently successful at keeping him out of prison. You probably knew the answer to your question as you kissed his shoulder gently; ‘they need you for briefing next week, but you’ll stall it for a few more days. You’ll blame anything... until you get angry phone calls from every other member of the team and HAVE to go.’ The hour-long argument you were trying not to have with him anymore somehow hadn’t happened yet. Probably because if you DID start one again, this time it wouldn’t help things. He’d not truly unwound yet from the last trip; you both knew that he’d only just come back but now they needed him again. He was winding up. If you added to that then life would be hell on that Sub. And it was bad enough as it was. You brushed some of his hair back off his face; and he hummed gently as your fingertips grazed his skin. Fraser got paranoid; the last thing you wanted was for that to set in badly 2 weeks before he was due to leave. Maybe you should stop talking about him leaving. You had two weeks. And it was summer, so you could just have quiet days with him like this... It was only a crying shame that you couldn’t be outdoors in your tiny London townhouse. Sure, it had a garden, but really!? You thought on it to yourself for a second; maybe you could get him away for a couple of last-minute days holiday. In the country? Or down by the beach...? No. Maybe the beach would be too full of noise and people. Fraser wouldn’t appreciate that. You ran your fingers into his thick salt and pepper curls with a smile; “Do you ever think about getting a haircut?” He laughed, pushing his head into your hand to encourage you to continue the motion. You know how much he liked you to tangle your fingers in it, always. “No!!! Why would I?!” “I dunno. It’s getting a little long... dontcha think?” “Pfft! You like it that way.” He served you a wink “Otherwise maybe I’d cut it...” His next look caused you to bite your lip; “... Yeaaah… But doesn’t it all get in the way?!” “Nah. Hairband. All set.” “Yeah about that..” “I don’t lose ‘em! Tell me one time I lost one.” “I didn’t say that!” You laughed “I’m just saying you need to invest in your own.” “No. Cuz look...” Fraser shook his hair out as you removed your hands and took them back in his, looking at you seriously; “... if I take yours it’s like having a piece of you out there with me. Okay? Like a piece of you is ALWAYS with me. And, as a function not fashion decision - you’re there HELPING me out!” His smile almost genuinely makes you tear up “That means more to me than a picture by my bunk. Believe me. So I can’t... stop... taking them.” “You’re crazy.” “Yeah well, you knew that for six years and you still decided to date me.” “I’m not sure I decided anything.” “Uh!! Who wanted who to kiss who?!” “Fraser I-” “Who always fights with me EVEN though every time I get half way to the door to let her cool off a little, is dragging me back and begging me not to go?!” He scoffed; “Like I’d leave. Now what, it’s nearly 10 years later and you’re still HERE?!” He finished with a smirk because he knew his point was made. You tilted your head “If you’re SO certain you’ll never leave...” your smile was quiet, he liked that “... why do you argue back?” He shrugged “It’s about getting angry sometimes, isn’t it?” You laughed “It is?!” “Yeah... It’s passionate, that you care so much. Kinda a turn on.” Fraser had you laughing again, with the way he grinned and you placed your hands on his leg, telling him not to joke. He folded his arms with a nod; “Yeah. I like getting angry sometimes… It’s quite therapeutic!” ** “I’m not having the same argument with you for the 500th time Y/N I’m just not!” “But why you!! Why YOU Fraser?! Can’t they get someone else - for ONCE!” “Because they need me... they need ME!” It was bad. Really bad. The kind of argument you assumed people had when the police turned up because neighbours had reported domestics. That kinda thing. And it just didn’t stop; hounding each other through rooms, and stalking each other up and down the flights of stairs. By the time the argument ended, you’d had enough. Enough, enough. It was your breaking point. “THEN F**KING LEAVE!” “I WILL!” It took you all of about 0.5 seconds to start crying. Why had you just---!? Said that!?! To his Face!?! You'd said it plenty of times in your head before and then mentally slapped yourself for it but saying it out loud to his face was on another level. He might have been yelling it at you, but as usual, a lot of what Fraser said was right. So was some of the things you’d said, but crossing the "then leave" line was another level of low... Fraser had to blink a few times, as the door narrowly missed slamming into his actual face. And suddenly the noise level of the house dropped... His ears rang in the silence; because that wasn’t good either. Did you mean it?? No. He didn't think so; but what if you did?? He'd been half way out that door a billion times and you always dragged him back. He waited for you to lace your fingers with his and drag him back but right now, you'd told him to leave. Still you were on the other side of that door. And he had a pretty safe bet that you were crying. And that hurt; he'd made you cry. You'd made yourself cry because he just... Couldn't let go. Fraser could never let go. He obsessed over stuff as much as you did which is why it was always the same argument. Over, and over, and over. And it was like a broken record but for some sick reason both of you always knew it was coming, and both of you lived for the thrill of it. Screaming to get it off your chest was pretty nonsensical and he was sure neither of you ever spoke sense, or could remember what the other said, but when it got physical... Never violent... But physical... When any surface was game - now THAT was worth every second of whatever had come before. Except today. Today you had screamed at him to leave and slammed the door. And he had to be honest, there was never a point in the argument that he thought it was going to get that kind of physical. He bit his lip, because the thought of you crying was making him cry. And he couldn't, he couldn’t go. Whether you really wanted it, or not, and he was SURE you didn't... But... You had to be okay. For him to be okay. And in that silence, he knew you weren't... It was amicable of you to cry whilst being able to hold back your sobs. You didn’t want Fraser to hear you cry over something you’d said. It wasn’t his fault. You owed this man your life. And before that, he had been one of your very best friends. And he still WAS your best friend. And sure, sometimes these things didn't work out. But you knew, you knew his mental state. People didn't call him a psychopath for no good reason. And you just pushed his buttons. Whenever he had to leave you, you were jealous enough and selfish enough to push all those buttons you knew he had. God, of COURSE you didn't want him to leave. But you were so awful to him. Always. Because he could die and you knew that. But so did he; he knew the risks of leaving you. But you knew it would kill him to leave what he was so good at. Somehow in all this time it had never blown up like this. And now you were standing on one side of a door and you'd just asked the man on the other side to leave. Unless he had? Would Fraser really walk out, if that's what he thought you wanted him to do...? You placed your head in your hands and shook it vigorously. What the hell was wrong with you!?! You knew him. You KNEW him! You should be looking after him, not doing this!! There was dead silence; you pressed your back into the door. You weren’t sure if he was even still there… If you actually TOLD Fraser to leave, would he actually do it. There was a difference, right?! You weren’t sure how many minutes passed; there was no talking. Both of you were barely breathing. You had to know, you just had to know… Your voice was wavering; Fraser automatically knew you were crying; “Fraser…” “Uh huh.” His voice was shaking too. “I…Don’t… I don’t wanna fight anymore…” The lock clicked and you opened the door. By now you were in tears, and he was on the verge of it. You reached and grabbed him; holding him close. Fraser pulled you in, one hand tangled in your hair; “I know… I know. Baby I know… Me either… me either…” *** Of all the things you didn't hate about Fraser leaving, your favourite was driving him to port. Whether that be sea or air. How he would sit next to you the entire way and just talk and plan. The most random and inconsequential but also the SWEETEST things... They almost always missed off the pre-cursor of 'if I die...' but it was probably sometimes better they did... This was now another thing you did so often because of him, that you had a pass specifically to be able to take him down to the end of the port, rather than dropping him off and making him walk. “Back so soon!?" "Eh!” You shrugged, glancing back across to Fraser; "No rest for the wicked!" You rolled your car down the road. Time to take it slooooow, so slow. Slow enough you'd leave everyone else impatiently waiting for him. They COULD bloody well wait for him! You spent long enough doing it the rest of the time. But suddenly you found yourself smirking at the man who was walking. You rolled your car up and whistled, winding down your window; “Oi! Reynolds! Wanna lift!?" He was probably your favourite of the regular crew so, you didn't mind sharing your last few minutes with Fraser with him. “Oh god!" he laughed “I would! But there's no way I want to watch you two make out in a car again..." You rolled your eyes "Well enjoy the near 3 mile walk!" "I will!" You laughed "What is this? The Likely Lads? Why doesn't that surprise me." "That's a good band name. Y/N and the Likely Lads. Try it out!" "Yeah, yeah..." you pulled your car forward "Last chance..." "No thanks." "3 miles! You're gonna let Fraser get there before you!?" "Oy!" Fraser smacked your arm playfully because it was always YOU making him late. “Well... That’s still a better prospect than you making out..." "Have it your way..." you sped the car up slightly but stuck your hand out the window counting backwards from 5. You got to two before he ran after you; "Alright! Alright!! I get it! Let me in!" Fraser gave a grin "So you're not THAT scandalised by us making out then?" "Oh god. Can you just do it when I get out please!?!" ** “I’m gonna miss you…” “I know…” You held him to you by his jacket. Every other word (practically) was followed by a kiss. And as you were leaning against your car, you could help but smirk into Fraser’s kisses watching the rest of them watch you (in disgust. But, screw them!). “Of course I know! We fight about that!” “Not since I-!” “Hush…!” His calm blue eyes swore you to silence; “We don’t talk about that one. Ever. Ok?” “Ok…” That fight had ended it. You hadn’t ever fought over this again. You just begrudgingly agreed to the dives he was called to now. He knew you still hated watching him go. But he knew you knew he had to… He stepped back, in order to say goodbye, but couldn’t resist the step forward again to steal another. You giggled; “GO! GOOO! They need you, go! Before I throw you back in my car and they lose their best diver!” “I could go for a bit of being thrown in the back of a car to be honest…!” His wink was cheeky and you gasped; “Shut! UP! Fraser…!!” That made him laugh, shouldering his bag he removed his baseball cap and placed it gently on your head; “Look after it, alright?!” You fixed it into place “Yeah. I will.” But still he stood there and didn’t move, before biting his lip with a grin; “Okay…! Okay… ONE last kiss…!” As if. One last kiss, to match his one last dive. You couldn’t help but laugh triumphantly again as you heard the collective groups exasperated groan. This wouldn’t end for at least another ten minutes!

#I can see it. The exact spot they are sitting. I’d like to thank my Ex for taking me there tbh it’s now a Fraser thing #THIS SONG #WHEN I WROTE THAT FIRST PARAGRAPH TO BRING YOU UP TO SPEED #I JUST #**CLIIIIICKKKK**#Fraser #Ben Mendelsohn #Fraser x Reader #Black Sea #AHHHH!!! THIS MOVIIIEEE #LET ME THREE PART RETCON THIS MOVIE #Fraser is a baby I love him #39 #Ali #Alicia

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

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Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.0k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other.

TW: Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Mentions of Past Assult, Violence, Non-Graphic Injury, Mentions of Drug Use, Implied Death, Unhealthy Relationships, and Delusional Mindsets.

[Part Two]

Within the day, Izuku’s base was abandoned.

It was a temporary measure, he’d explained, just a precaution to make sure Katsuki and all his nasty little friends couldn’t find their way back to his hide-out, which turned out to be a bunker tucked away underneath one of the many discarded office buildings on the edge of the city. It was almost impressive, how with only a wave of his hand, all of his lackeys uprooted themselves from the home they seemed so accustomed to with little more than an exasperated sigh or a remorseful shake of their head. If Izuku had been disappointed, you weren’t able to tell. Despite the rush, the anxiety that came with releasing a scorned hostage, he was all smiles, all gentle touches and soft tones and sentiments so patronizing, you began to think you’d almost prefer his anger.

He knew you were quirkless, now, and there wasn’t an observant civilian in the city who didn’t know about Izuku’s troubled past, of his fondness of those born without a gift. You couldn’t say you blamed him, not if you approached it objectively. It hadn’t been an easy burden to carry, growing up, but you weren’t growing up anymore, you weren’t a kid waiting for a quirk that’d never come or a teenager, balancing the embarrassment of daily life with the humiliation that came with being so undeniably different than your peers, and in such an unhidable way, too. You weren’t over it, but you were past it. You still remembered all those awful, disgusting things people said to you, but you didn’t let them keep you awake at night. You were dealing with it. You were moving forward.

Izuku wasn’t.

He wasn’t even trying to.

But, it wasn’t your place to call him out, not when it came to that, not when you were stuck inside your new prison - someplace just as confining, but only half as tolerable. Technically, it was an improvement. After abandoning his bunker, Izuku’s followers had dispersed, and along with a handful of his closest companions, you’d been taken to a seedy bar on the worse side of town, locked inside of a small, windowless room on the second story and forced to watch as Izuku threw away the key. There were no cards, this time, no unbais locks with a dozen different work-around, just a deadbolt on your door and four-digit code you’d never get the chance to guess at. He wasn’t taking any risks, this time, he wasn’t giving you the smallest opportunity to jump at. It was a new sense of determination that’d come in the form of a shackle around your ankle and a bottle of white, circular pills Izuku forced down your throat every time he took you beyond the confines beyond your four walls. Ones that made you dizzy, weak, sedated. A measure that couldn’t be for your own safety, despite Izuku’s attempts to insist otherwise.

He seemed busier, too, than he was before your abduction. It might just be because you didn’t have anything else to focus on. As far as you could tell, Izuku only let his inner circle know where you were being held, and they still seemed hesitant to do more than deliver your meals or offer a few passive niceties when they were forced to interact with you. Saying your company was limited would’ve been an understatement. He tried to make it up to you with books and gifts and outfits that were more for his enjoyment than yours, but you were lucky if his visits lasted longer than an hour. His wasn’t the face you’d prefer to see on a daily basis, but it was still worrying to have your captor be too preoccupied to serve as a real threat. And when he did make time for you…

Izuku liked to have something to hold on to. He liked to be able to squeeze, and pull, and bruise, even if the pain he caused was more of a byproduct than a goal. His intentions didn’t matter, though, not when his fingertips dug into your thighs, not when his teeth sank into your neck, not when he got a little too excited and only stopped because your complaints had gotten frantic enough to be annoying. You’d learned quickly that Izuku was an affectionate man, but you’d learned even faster that you never wanted to be the one that affection was directed towards. Having him go days at a time without checking in with you was concerning, but having him next to you was unbearable. You tried not to think about it, when you could help it.

Luckily, today was a case of the former, when Izuku had too much on his mind and too little time to sort it out to bother convincing you to love him back. He’d let himself into your room an hour ago, and yet, he hadn’t been able to do more than kiss your forehead and offer a muttered greeting before loosening his tie and setting to pacing, wandering back and forth through the cramped confines of your homey cage. It was starting to scare you. No, it was starting to terrify you. You’d passed the point of just being scared days ago.

You doubted he could say anything to comfort you, but you found yourself talking regardless. If only to fill the silence with something that wasn’t his constant, incoherent mumbling, really. “Something’s going on,” You started, trying to sound more confident than you’d ever be, around him. “Something’s going on, and you’re not telling me about it.”

His answer was automatic, the one he’d given you a thousand times over. “I’m taking care of it, darling.”

“Midoriya, please.” It was more of a plea than a request, an appeal to whatever love he might’ve had for you, whatever trust he might’ve had in you. You weren’t blind, you knew he didn’t think you were strong or capable or of any particular use beyond serving as a particularly high-maintenance ornament, but if he thought you were endearing enough to keep as a companion, he should’ve been able to treat you like a companion, too. “Right now, your safety is my safety. If someone’s going to break down that door and kill both of us…” You trailed off, forcing yourself to let out an airy, humorless laugh. “I should get to know who it’s going to be.”

For a moment, Izuku hesitated, but it was only for a moment. With a small sigh, the tension in his shoulder dissolved, and he took to rubbing the back of his neck, one in a never-ending line of nervous ticks. “It’s really nothing either of us can help,” He insisted, making a half-hearted attempt to break his concerned frown into a small smile. “A lot of my recruits were training to be heroes when I picked them up, did I ever tell you that? I got to most of them too early on for it to be useful, but a few have some experience. It makes it easier to tell with the other side’s planning something, not that they’d ever miss a chance to put on a good show.”

“And it’s been getting worse?” The sentiment left a bitter taste on your tongue. You never thought you’d speak a word against the hero industry, not so generally, but Izuku had a way of rubbing off on you, or the way you spoke, at least.

“It’s certainly busier than it should be,” He admitted, the words grumbled through grit teeth. “I’ve had to lie low, but that makes things difficult. There’s a hierarchy in this city, and people don’t tend to react well when the one on the throne goes into hiding. Weapon distributors aren’t getting their shipments on time, gangs aren’t keeping to their own territory, it’s all devolving into chaos, and all because those bastards can’t take a step back and let me tend to things.”

His hands were curling at his sides, now, his nails driving themselves into his bare palms with so much repressed ferocity, it almost looked painful. It was an impulsive thing to do, an act that’d play right into his delusional little fantasy, but that didn’t stop you from reaching out and taking him by the sleeve, pulling him towards your cot. Your chain rattled as you swung your legs over the side of your bed, but you tried to ignore it, biting the inside of your cheek and letting Izuku fall into place next to you. He didn’t try to resist, only going slack as his head lolled onto your shoulder.

Your next question came reluctantly, guiltily. You couldn’t be sure how long it’d been since you’d last seen Katsuki, but after a month came and went without the slightest hint of your boyfriend, your hopes had dampened, dimmed, turned into something much darker than you’d ever thought they would be. You still knew he’d come back for you. He had to come back, but you couldn’t know when he would. You couldn’t know how he might’ve changed, by the time he did.

You couldn’t know if he’d still be your Katsuki, by then.

“What about Bakugo?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Have you heard anything about him?”

With that, an almost sympathetic aire found its way to his tired expression. Somehow, he found just enough energy to reach up, running his finger through your hair as he drew you closer, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You went stiff, but you didn’t shove him away. You knew better than to reject Izuku so blatantly, by now. “You don’t have to worry about Kacchan. I let him get away, but I made sure he didn’t leave unscathed.” There was a pause, a hand finding its way to your hip. You fought not to recoil, and Izuku pretended not to notice. “He only picked up his patrol routes last week, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him. If he wants to get to you, he’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands.”

You wanted to ask again. You wanted to ask again, and again, and again until you ran out of breath and Izuku had to decide whether to gag you, starve you, or find a way to combine the two. It was a common choice to get stuck on, whether to quell your paranoia or side with your common sense, but ultimately, Izuku was the one to make the decision for you. It was soft, at first, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your skin, but things with Izuku rarely stayed innocent. Your body was rigid by the time you felt his tongue run over your jugular, your hands on his shoulder as his teeth ghosted over your neck, but by the time you moved to shove him away, he was already clinging to you, snaking an arm around your waist as his teeth sunk in, as he drew blood.

“I don’t--” You tried to complain, but you were cut off by a low hum from Izuku, a half-hearted sign of dismissal as he moved on to his next target, just above the dip of your collarbone. “Midoriya,” You tried, trying to shove him away. “This really isn’t the time, I’m really not in the mood. You were just talking how screwed we’d be if--”

“I was worried about it, and then, my angel comforted me. That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” He pulled you closer, nuzzling into your chest. “I’m just repaying the favor. It’d be unfair if I didn’t show my (Y/n) how much I appreciate them.”

He moved to go on, but suddenly, his eyes opened, his posture going stiff before he could say something to make you squirm and do something to make you hate him even more. You heard it a moment after he did, and felt it a second after that - voices, louder than they should’ve been, coming from the floor below, and then a crash that couldn’t have been accidental. There was a subtle tremors, a reverberation that left you locking your jaw into place. Izuku didn’t let go of you, but his grip loosened, his attention suddenly elsewhere.

And then, without warning, the floor caved in.

It happened in the blink of an eye, in the space between one second and another. One moment, you were sitting on a cot, and the next, you were lying on your back, every part of your body aching, a dozen things sprained and another hundred bruised, or cut, or ripped open and left to bleed. You forced yourself to open your eyes, but it was pointless - the world around you was grey and brown and nothing. Dust and debris polluted the air, clouding it beyond recognition, and if there was anything salvageable left of the first floor, you wouldn’t have been able to tell, much less do something with whatever you found. The fall couldn’t have been very far, but the ground was unforgiving, and everything hurt. It was all you could do to push yourself to your feet, your legs threatening to buckle under your own weight. You pulled yourself through a step, then another before you realized what was wrong.

You could stand.

You could walk.

Blearily, you focused on the shackle around your ankle, the thing that should’ve been keeping you bound to the cot now buried under a pile of rubble twice as tall as you were. The metallic circlet was still there, only slightly scoffed, but when you followed the short chain, the only thing it led back to was a pole, one leg of the makeshift bed you’d become so acquainted with. You almost left it there. Right now, you were more focused on finding an exit and getting out than celebrating such a convenient victory, but a low moaning tore your attention towards another mangled form before you could stagger away. A mass of black fabric, a white shirt soaked through with something dark and rusty. Hair, darker than it should’ve been, and just as tangled as it usually was.

Izuku. Injured and beaten, but unquestionably Izuku. For a moment, you thought he was dead, but a guttural cough tore you away from that daydream. He didn’t move, but his eyes flickered open, finding you among the ruins. It almost seemed like he would smile, like he would laugh and call his henchmen and you’d be recaptured before you could get so much as a breath of fresh air. You could hear fighting in the distance, yelling from heroes and villains alike, but they weren’t here, not yet. Izuku could still do something crafty and clever and evil, and you’d have to pay for it.

You’d be the victim again, and he’d come out on top.

By the time you made up your mind, your hand was already closing around the pole, the metal heavy in your fist. Izuku watched you silently, only forcing something out as you came to stand over him.

“You’d be better off with me,” He spat, his voice raspy, feeble. “If you go running back into his arms, into his world, you’ll regret it.”

You were tempted to listen. You might’ve, but you couldn’t. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself, if you did.

It wasn’t like he’d ever stopped to listen to you, after all.

You were only returning the favor.

You didn’t remember passing out.

You didn’t remember it, but you must’ve, because the next time you woke up, you weren’t in the debris of Izuku’s hideout, anymore - you didn’t seem to be anywhere. The lights were blinding for a second, fospheresent and white and searing, but the onslaught retreated as quickly as it attacked, disappearing completely as you remembered how to blink. If your body hurt before, it was even worse now, but the pain was at a distance, forced back by a translucent liquid and a handful of needles pumping the substance into your bloodstream, one drop at a time. You were tempted to rip them out, if only as a learned instinct, but a glance around the room revealed that you were in a medical bed, not on a cot, that the walls around you were white and speckled with dark blues and greens, rather that the dull grey you’d grown used to. It was a silent relief, not unexpected but certainly not unappreciated, the type that made you want to fall into the stiff mattress and sleep until you got used to the feeling of being able to, but you had a reason to stay awake. You had a reason to want to be awake.

Because someone was holding your hand.

Because Katsuki was holding your hand.

He was slumped against the arm of a sterile, poorly cushioned chair, his eyes nearly closed. He must’ve been here for a while - he was still wearing the essentials of his costume, but his mask had been discarded, as had his belt and his gauntlets, anything he didn’t need to sit by your bedside and fret over you. He looked exhausted, but he perked up as your fingers intertwined with his, a small smile spreading across his lips as he scanned over you.

His voice was raspy, obscure by sleep, but his tone was light, affectionate. You were thankful. That was all you needed him to be. “You took your fucking time.”

“So did you.” You might hold it against him, later on, but right now, you just wanted to settle onto your side and grin as Katsuki’s expression softened into something apologetic. “How long was I--”

“A little more than a day.” He must’ve gone over that a thousand times before you woke up. He wasn’t eager, but the speech was rehearsed, practiced, just bordering on scripted. “It’s just a minor concussion and a few fractures. Taking out Deku’s hideout was riskier than it should’ve been, but we couldn’t think of another way to separate him from his lackeys without putting civilians at risk. By the time we handled his lap dogs, you’d already collapsed.”

You hesitated, but you forced yourself to ask. You needed to know he wouldn’t come crawling back. You needed to know you hadn’t fallen to his level for nothing. “And Midoriya?”

“Died in the crash, as far as anyone can tell.” Katsuki took a deep breath, just a hint of regret finding its way into his disposition. It didn’t last long, though, dispelled with an heavy sigh. “It’s for the best. The sooner that motherfucker’s wiped off the face of the planet, the better. I was just hoping it wouldn’t be so…” He trailed off, running his free hand through his hair. “Would you believe me if I said I still thought he might not be so… fucked up, once we got him back?”

You wouldn’t. You’d spent weeks under Izuku’s thumb, tripping over yourself to keep him happy with you, spending every waking moment trying to please a sociopath, but that didn’t change the fact that he used to be Katsuki’s friend, that they’d grown up together, and that it’d been Katsuki’s fault they grew apart. You couldn’t answer, not in a way that would soothe his lingering doubts, But, he didn’t seem to need you to. Before you could think of something to say, he was already shrugging it off, shaking his head as he turned towards you. “I can’t keep focusing on shit like that, though. You’re back, and you’re safe, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You let yourself relax, melting into your pillow as Katsuki bent over the side of your bed, pushing a light, delicate kiss into your temple. “I’m just glad I got out of there,” You admitted. Katsuki only nodded in acknowledgement, nimble fingers beginning to comb through your disheveled hair. “I can’t wait to see everyone again, it feels like years since I’ve talked to someone besides Midoriya. Mina’s going to smother me, and Denki -- Wait, do you think I still have a job? They can’t fire me for getting abducted, right?”

You felt Katsuki stiffen. It took him a second to respond, just long enough to let you know something was wrong. “I… I don’t think you should head back to work, just yet.”

“Well, yeah, I’m still in a hospital gown,” You laughed, attempting to ignore his sudden seriousness. “But eventually, I’ll have to--”

“I don’t think you should go back at all.” If he was reluctant before, he’d gotten over it. Reflexively, you pushed yourself up, your arms shaking under the strain, but Katsuki was quick to backtrack, to flinch away and curse under his breath, cupping your cheek as he urged you to hear him out. “I know you’re probably dyin’ for things to go back to the way they used to be, and I know I’m being selfish, but… You were kidnapped, (Y/n), by a villain. Deku was the worst ‘em, but he wasn’t the only one. There’s probably hundreds of-- thousands of people out there who’d be willing to rip your heart out, if it means getting back to me. I don’t know if it’d be able to take it, if you wanted to risk that. I don’t know if it’d be able to let you risk that. I...” He forced himself to stop, to take a steading breath. “I just want to keep you safe. I need you to let me keep you safe.”

Huh.

It hurt a lot less than you thought it would.

It was the numbing sort of shock, a cold wave of a scenario you’d imagined (albeit, one you’d never liked) plenty of times coming to fruition. Part of you thought Katsuki might burst out laughing, that he might be joking, but Katsuki didn’t move to back down, didn’t move to do anything but stare. It made sense. He hadn’t known if you were dead or alive for a month, and Katsuki was the type to get nervous when you went more than a day without seeing him in person. He’d probably been worried sick. He’d probably been pulling his own hair out. He’d probably been… What was it Izuku said, when he was first warning you about Katsuki?

He’d probably been ready to lock you away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’d be lucky to ever see sunlight again. As long as it meant you were protected.

That didn’t mean you wanted to be locked away, though.

It was all you could do to keep your voice from shaking. You didn’t want Katsuki to lie to you just because he thought you might start crying, if he didn’t. “What happens if I don’t let you?”

He could only frown, the calloused pad of his thumb rubbing over your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, angel.”

He didn’t want to. He’d never want to. Even if he did, even if he didn’t regret it, he’d never want to.

That already made him better than Izuku.

The slow, muted beat of the heart-monitor began to race as you leaped towards Katsuki, nearly falling off of your bed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him against you burying your face in his chest, allowing Katsuki to tentatively pull you closer, too. You could’ve called for a nurse. You could’ve screamed. You could’ve done something to put yourself at arm’s length from anyone who wanted to keep you cornered and caged, but you didn’t want to do something, you couldn’t want that. You loved Katsuki. You loved him, and you’d missed him, and the only thing you wanted to do was fall into his arms and let him take care of you, regardless of how paranoid he’d gotten. You just wanted to know he’d be there, if someone like Izuku ever came after you again.

Everything else was a small price to pay, if he could just give you that.

“Please.” You didn’t try to hide your vulnerability, anymore, you didn’t try to hide anything. Tears were already clouding your vision, something jagged and tight burrowing into the back of your throat with every word, every painful thought. Katsuki moved to speak, to comfort you, but you didn’t let him. You didn’t want to be comforted.

You just wanted to feel safe.

"I just want to go home.”

278 notes · View notes

love-we-write · 6 years ago

Text

Thank You for Trying

Part III

Character: Dad!Kim Jongdae Genre: Family, some bit of drama, much fluff Words: 4,738 Summary: Because you saw how deeply Jongdae loves; saw him love his parents, his friends, his job and his fans. And it’s not the outward declaration of love to the rooftops nor is it the grand presents. It’s him constantly worrying and helping them, and constantly wanting to make them happy. Constantly trying for them. A/N: Four five years ago, I saw a thread of how Jongdae would make such a great dad. Also a GIF in Exoluxion of Jongdae with a child. This is what my brain put together from those two.

Part I, Part II

You saw in slow motion Hyejin’s pram toppling over. Hyejin falling outside. Yours and OO’s sweet daughter. Hyejin, only barely 10 months old. There was no noise in your ears. Not even the sound of your heartbeat. Just that sickening ‘thud!’ as Hyejin landed on the sidewalk outside the pram.

And then… the world resumes.

Hyejin began to cry. You hear someone cry. A few hours later, you realize that that someone was you.

You don’t remember anything else during that time. Someone may have taken a video, or a picture. You didn’t know. All you could remember in your head was a blank white canvas with dark scribbled words of panic.

‘hyejinshouldn’tbethereohmygodissheokayisshesafePLEASEGODLETHERBEOKAY –‘

You remember picking up your crying daughter and holding her close to you to your body. You remember that sudden moment of clarity that you probably should not move her too much in case there were any injuries. But you remember that you needed to get out of that circle fast. So, you pushed some of them roughly and broke the circle, and you find yourself not caring if they were surprised or angry or if they want to follow you. All you know is that you are walking as fast as you can while trying to keep Hyejin stationary.

At some point, you remember walking all the way to the nearest hospital. You remember thinking that you cannot risk calling an ambulance and staying put in one place with them maybe following you.

You remember calling Jongdae as soon as you manage to quiet Hyejin down and had the doctors look at her.

You remember his voice. It was bright.

“Jagi!”

Then it turned worried.

“Sweetheart… what’s wrong?”

Then, you remember your voice. It was small, hiccup-y. And it was scared.

“Dae, come down. It’s Hyejin.”

Jongdae is a man who worries quietly, but on that day when he burst to see you in the hospital, his worry was deafeningly obvious on his face.

“What happened?”

It’s your fault. You should have been more careful. You should have never dared to come out just like that. You should have known. You should have known.

Amidst your hiccupping, you managed to tell him your story. That you were cornered… but you should have known not to come out like that. You were pushed – it’s your fault that Hyejin is hurt – and you bumped into Hyejin’s pram – it’s your fault – and Hyejin was knocked out of there – it’s all your fault – and you brought her as soon as possible to the hospital – oh god, your daughter is in there because of you –.

And there you two stood, and you watched Jongdae’s warm eyes gradually darken at your each word. His eyes, normally a warm and welcoming chocolate were now dark and cold, bitter and almost black. Then Jongdae heard his phone ping twice. One message from Baekhyun, another from his manager.

Both asking if you are okay, both with links to social media accounts where he watched in agony at the video of his wife hysterically crying while running away from the crowd, and he heard his daughter’s cries of pain. And he felt his heart twist in the most painful way he has ever known. And he wondered how things have gone this wrong.

At that time, you thought you saw something snap inside Jongdae.

Ten minutes later, you were called in to the doctor’s office. Hyejin is fine and is considered very lucky to come out of the fall with minor injuries. She has no concussions, but her left arm is fractured. You are advised to not move her left arm so much when you get home, but also ‘we would like to keep her for a night here, just to be on the safe side’.

“Will there be effects when she grows up?”

“It’s too early to know, but you should bring her for checkups when she grows up, just to see,” the doctor replied kindly.

You and Jongdae stayed with Hyejin all night. Sometimes you see Jongdae come out of the room to take a few calls and make a few more on his own. But he never left you.

At some point, you asked him.

“Dae, are you okay?”

The smile he gave you is soft, and his kiss on your forehead is reassuring.

“I am. Don’t you worry about anything.”

He promised you and held your hand.

A day later, you and Jongdae took Hyejin home. That night, he told you of his plans. You heavily objected to his plans, almost to the point of crying, because it’s unfair how he should compromise one love of his for another.

“Dae, I know you know what you’re doing, but you also know your decision… i-it’s going to be widely misunderstood! You know they won’t let you explain so easily, and if you do get to explain, you know how they’ll twist your words!”

But Jongdae held you and reassured that it’s going to be okay. That HE’S going to be okay.

“I trust them. I trust my friends.”

There he is, so loving and so trustful of the people he holds dear. You don’t know if that’s kindness, or stupidity.

The next morning, you cried but you held his hand and said you will support him in whatever he does.

A week after that, in a move that proved historical and controversial in the idol industry, Jongdae filed lawsuits against his own fansite masters.

People have heard of idols and their representatives threatening legal action on separate companies. They might have also heard of companies protecting their artist by threatening legal action against slandering rumors or malicious commenters.

But in an unprecedented move, one that certainly got tongues wagging and people discussing, EXO’s Chen became the first idol to have threatened a lawsuit against his own fansite masters, against his own fans as far as readers are concerned.

Eight people were charged; four were fansite masters specifically for him and two for EXO, and two were photographers from the media. The charges; harassment, stalking and potential endangerment of a minor. All were identified as being directly involved in the scuffle that led to Hyejin’s injuries last week

In a matter of a day, Jongdae’s decision to file the lawsuit proved controversial and misunderstood. In an industry that heavily involves fan interactions, negative interactions like these are unheard of and are seen as signs of ungratefulness. Never mind the fact that four years ago, he had made the rare move of announcing his relationship, now him suing his own fansite masters again brought the discussion of ungratefulness to his fans and criticism for bringing in his personal life into his professional one.

Reactions were greatly negative the first few moments of Jongdae announcing the lawsuit, and greatly exacerbated by the media. His decision was nitpicked from every aspect.

There were the people charged who spread slander about him and his decision, they also started discussions about how Jongdae has changed and that he has brought too much of his personal life into his professional one. A lot of rumors about how he has turned his back against all his fans spread through social media.

From the media outlets’ perspective, they brought up the fact that he is enforcing a monetary penalty on them, which seemed odd. That got the people talking about unfairness, about how most of his money came from his fans, yet he would disregard that when he decided to monetarily penalize his own fans.

On the Internet, his name is dragged through the mud. People wrote that his true colors are revealed. How he views his fans were questioned.

‘All the fangirls are clearly delusional; don’t you see you’re only cash pigs to him.’

‘Liar.’

‘Leave if you don’t like to be an idol, sheesh. You can’t have the best of both worlds.’

‘EXO’s getting dragged through the mud is his fault, he should leave.’

‘Ever since he met her, he’s changed so much.’

‘He should leave’

‘He’s changed! He’s getting so arrogant, first announcing his girlfriend and the baby, then this?!’

‘It’s her fault.’

‘He’s gotten so arrogant, I don’t remember supporting someone so arrogant!’

‘He doesn’t care about his fans.’

‘Leave!’

You wanted so badly to scream at how wrong they were. That the EXO’s Chen that they see on the stage is not a fake persona, is not a mask, but it is a real extension of the man that is Kim Jongdae. He loves his family and his brothers as Kim Jongdae and he loves EXO-L as Kim Jongdae too, and you don’t understand why these two things must be so mutually exclusive.

Here is a man, who – for as long as you knew him – never talks about you or your child during his professional shows because that would be rude to his fans and who talks of them like his friends even behind closed doors. Here is a man who had the option and was actually urged to keep your relationship quiet but decided to challenge his own company to let him tell only EXO-Ls first only, not because of any ulterior motive but simply because he doesn’t want them to see him as EXO’s Chen, some unapproachable idol but just as simple human Kim Jongdae, a friend.

And you see netizens and media questioning him on this and that is what you fear would hurt him most. More than the speculations of his motives, more than the news analysis, you feared that he would get hurt because he loves too much, and he loves too deeply.

His members, supportive and understanding as they were, could not go against the authorities of their company when they brought their decision on Jongdae. Baekhyun and Junmyeon and their managers tried reasoning with the higher-ups, tried to make them see how vital Jongdae is, if not to them as a family, then to EXO’s sound as a group. How would you be able to isolate Chen, their vocal backbone for so many years, and not expect any drastic change in their musical direction? But the authorities have spoken.

Jongdae is to be put on probation, and if him proceeding with his intention shows more harm than growth to EXO, the company and public perception of them, then he will be considered a liability and his contract terminated.

You know how sasaengs posing as fansites has strained idol-fan relationships, and you know that not all fansites are like that. You know that Jongdae and EXO has had this problem for as long as since they debuted. But you also know that this lawsuit would have never happened if it was him who got hurt. You know he filed this lawsuit to protect you and your daughter. And look at what it cost him.

For you and for your daughter, he is willing to take the risk of possibly losing his dream and all that he has worked for.

That night, it was quiet. The storm has quietened down for a while and people are asleep. Jongdae should be asleep too, he’s going to have a press conference tomorrow where he promises to try to answer all questions about his decisions, but at that time, you catch him standing beside Hyejin, stroking her cheeks softly as she slept. Without any thought, you hugged him, and you hugged him with all your might, with everything that you feel inside.

You hugged him with all the guilt you feel that he wouldn’t have had to choose if you and Hyejin weren’t in the public picture, if he hadn’t loved his fans like he did… if he hadn’t loved you or your daughter like he did.

You hugged him with all your bottled uncertainty for the future, if it really came down that his contract would be terminated, if there really was no coming back from this, if he really had to leave EXO for his family.

You hugged him because you feel sorry that he loves too deeply, and he trusts so much in the good of the ones he loves, but also you hugged him because you feel thankful that he is how he is, because you are thankful that you are loved by him.

“Are you scared, Dae?” you whispered to his back.

You felt him turn around and then you felt his lips on your forehead. When you looked up at him, he is smiling.

“Yeah… and no.”

It’s quiet outside.

“I’m scared but I’m also brave…does that make sense?” he chuckled sheepishly.

“I’m scared, sure, but then there’s you…” he said and then he cocked his head to the cot, where sweet Hyejin is sleeping without a care in world, almost as if her father hadn’t been dragged through the mud for her.

In her sleep, her face makes him forget all that he will face tomorrow. Jongdae can’t help but smile at that.

“…and there’s Hyejin too, and I feel like everything will be alright.”

“Do you regret it? This would have been much easier on you i-if we… stayed quiet from the start,” you murmured quietly.

Jongdae was quiet for a while. Over from the corner of your eyes, you see him purse his lips.

“Easier, yes. But not right.”

“It’s unfair on you and it’s unfair on Hyejin too. I knew, at some point, that what we have… it’s something that I want to continue. And I don’t want to carry on having to pretend like I don’t know you in public. And I don’t want our children to grow up hidden, with their father pretending like he doesn’t know them,” he began as he held you beside him in one arm, while playing with Hyejin’s cheeks with his other hand. You watched in wonder as your daughter, probably sensing her father, turned to snuggle into Jongdae’s hands.

“It’s unfair to them too, to the fans. Because they’ve been with us EXO for all those years, and they want to be closer to us, as we do with them. But to keep giving them the polished, pre-packaged version of EXO’s Chen after all these years, that would be a lie. They have been with us through thick and thin… and I at least owe them to be truthful as me, as Kim Jongdae in all my interactions with them. Not that Chen is a lie, it’s a part of me, but only PART of me. And with all those years of them supporting us, I want to share a little bit more of the parts the makes me Kim Jongdae. And those parts are… that I love you, I have a daughter and I love her too, and I will do whatever it takes to protect both of you.”

To this, he looked at you and smiled.

“Don’t worry, almost all of them are good. It’s the negative ones that’s the loudest.”

He said this as if he’s wasn’t just nitpicked from all across the media, given death threats and received thousands of comments saying he should give up his dream of singing, as if he wasn’t just branded a liability by the company he helped grow with his voice.

At that, you can’t help but stare in wonder at this. He may not be one for declarations of love over rooftops, but the things he does for the people he loves, how much consideration he gives them, it is something that cannot be unrivaled.

In that quiet night, when all were asleep but the two of you, your hand found his and you held it tight.

In your heart that is no longer uneasy, you thought that everyone who is loved by him truly are very lucky.

The next day Jongdae walked into a room full of reporters and camera flash assaulting his face and he sat down in front of them with steely determination. And then, the questioning began, and he found that he had nothing to hide.

One reporter asked him what the basis of the lawsuits were. That is easy, they were directly involved in stalking and harassing his wife and daughter, and even took videos and pictures during a time of distress when his daughter fell from the pram. Besides that, this is not an isolated incident as the people who were identified have always stalked and harassed him and his family, camping outside his home and also outside the hospital when Hyejin was born and creating disturbance everywhere.

“Simply put, the media outlet has no excuse for such an invasion of privacy, and the fansite masters are simply sasaengs posing as fans,” Jongdae said calmly. It’s hard for any of them to retort when he said it so straightforwardly without sounding mean.

Another asked him what kind of message it is that he wished to send with these lawsuits. That is also very simple, to respect his wishes to give his wife and daughter privacy. He does not want to police interactions between his family and his fans, in fact he thought that most of EXO-Ls as his friends that he’s excited for them to meet his family. It’s the small minority that doesn’t do that respectfully that he wanted to give a strong warning. He does not want his daughter to grow up with strangers pointing their cameras at her without her consent, or camping in her school in the future, or for her to be scared to make friends.

He wants them to view his family as humans too, instead of linked products to EXO’s Chen and by default have human rights to privacy.

“There seems to be talk of where to cross the line between your professional life and your personal one. At the end of the day, having to deal with unruly fans could be said to be what comes with the job of being an idol, and it comes with the high pay of your job. With you suddenly suing the source of your professional income because of your personal life, wouldn’t you say this is being unprofessional?” a reporter chimed in after Jongdae finished his previous answer.

There was suddenly a murmur as Jongdae took his time to think of his answer.

“In my opinion, the line to draw between my professional life and my personal life differ between how each fan perceive their idol. For me personally, I would rather my EXO-Ls think of me as a friend because after years of their support, I do not think of them as my fans but rather my friends. That is why 4 years ago, I shared news of my relationship and then this year of my daughter only to them. It’s because I view them not as my source of income, but as friends who has been with me and my members for so long, and they deserve to know more about me as Kim Jongdae, the man instead of just as Chen, the idol,” he began slowly.

“That’s why I would rather them think of me as human, instead of an idol the product. But I understand that to each their own preference. I understand that some might prefer to view me only as a performer who they paid their hard-earned money to see, and I respect that. Those views, however, still does not change the fact that, the product here is me. It is not my wife and it is certainly not my newborn daughter, who did not choose to be born to an idol father.”

A round of murmur began to resound in the room. Jongdae continued.

“Regardless if you view me as the idol, the product of a business, my wife and my daughter should not have to bear the same treatment. My lawsuits want to make that line clear. We can discuss the morality and what an idol owes the fan if the situation involves only me, but there are no discussions when I say my wife and daughter does not owe anyone anything.”

Another round of camera flash resumed its blinding assault on his face. Backstage, you watched his open declaration with tears in your eyes.

“What do you plan to do with the penalty of the lawsuit?” another reporter asked.

“Most probably donate it. The money is not important here, it is the principle,” Jongdae shrugged.

“Did you talk to your members about this decision?”

“Yes. I’ve talked a lot with my members and the managers before making my decision. I understand the consequences it may bring me, that’s why I want to stress that any should there be any negative consequences, those should be mine alone to bear. The activities of EXO and the other members should not have to suffer because of my decision,” the Jongdae replied decisively but not unkindly. His voice is soft, as it is always were when he speaks, however it did not waver.

“One final question; do you worry about the future, things like how your fans will perceive you, even your possible future in EXO given SM’s statement of putting you in probation?” another voice asked, this time possible directly in front of Jongdae.

Jongdae began softly with his answer.

“I think if I say I am not worried, that would be a lie. I love singing, and I love being in EXO. I also do not want our fans to think that with me doing this, I am turning my back on them or that I do not love them. They are precious to me; like a close friend that I want to make proud. I am only taking action against people who would dare hurt my wife and my daughter. What I hope that everyone in this room and everyone who will watch understands that…,” Jongdae replied slowly after much thought.

At that instant, Jongdae looked up determinedly at the camera. From behind the stage watching the live feed, you felt your heart skip beats and you fell in love with Kim Jongdae all over again.

“I love my family more than anything in this world and I will not regret any sacrifice if it means they are safe and happy”

7 years later, the three of you sat huddled on Hyejin’s bed, with your phone the only source of light illuminating the darkness of her room. It was that video of him in the press conference that you started with and it was the same video that you ended your story. The Jongdae 7 years younger – frozen in time in your phone – continued to stare back at Hyejin in apt determination after his fierce declaration and you watched as Hyejin looked up between you and her father beside her, her eyes tearing up more as she starts to register the magnitude of her father’s sacrifice.

“Then… what happened after that?” your daughter asked quietly, almost scared.

“Well… your father was right. It’s the negative ones that are the loudest. They threw temper tantrums, we see some boycotts, we see some burning their albums and we see some nasty pictures, articles and comments on the Internet. But on the whole, people started discussing over your father’s statements. And they realize that he is right. You are just a baby, you do not owe anyone anything. Your other uncles also spoke out soon after that in support of your father, how he is vital to them as EXO, so his termination will not be tolerated, but also that it is incredibly human of him to do what he did and there’s nothing wrong with that,” you explained.

“People started discussing about the sasaeng culture and how it strains other fans’ interaction with their idols. We see more discussion over whether idols can speak up and we see people applauding your father for doing so. And after that, people realize that EXO still have fans staying with them, fans who genuinely just wants to be happy with EXO and wants EXO to be happy. Those are the ones that you like it when they see you and say hi to you. Soon, his public image improved. And, he gets to stay and gets to sing again – soon after that, he gets to add a solo career on top of everything. Seems like good luck but it took close to a year of being uncertain.”

You stroke Hyejin’s hair.

“You see, sweetheart… when your father decided that day to announce you to the world, it took a lot of courage. He did it at a time where it was blasphemous to do so. But he did so, because he doesn’t want you to grow up being separate from him. He doesn’t want to pretend like he doesn’t know you in public and can only show his love in private.

“Then, you see whenever your father and your uncles travel. It’s a horde of reporters and fans that surround them. We know his life as an idol is anything but normal, yet he still only ever wanted to give you what any normal father wants to give his daughter; a safe and happy childhood. You get to openly be proud that your father is the amazing EXO’s Chen, while at the same time getting to have a normal childhood like anyone else without cameras following you. You get to have the best of both worlds, because 7 years ago, when your father first held you, he has long decided that he won’t regret any sacrifices he makes if that meant you get to be happy.”

You watch as Hyejin turned to her father, teary-eyed and trembling.

At some point, you think what shook her most was not your stories of the past, but what happened in the present. It’s not the re-telling of what she went through as a baby that shocked her, you think it’s the fact that she – not an hour ago – thought that her father prefers his fans over her, and to know how wrong she was. To realize how much her father tried for her.

“Of all the things in this world, he loves you the most.”

Suddenly, Hyejin tackled her father down in a burst of tears, landing face first into Jongdae’s chest as she wailed.

“I-I’m s-sorry, appa! I-I didn’t mean to… That must’ve sucked when you heard me, I’m so-so sorry!” Hyejin whined and cried into Jongdae’s chest. Jongdae chuckled, but you hear the waver in his voice.

“It’s okay, princess. That’s alright,” he soothed as Hyejin kept crying.

“I-I don’t hate you, appa. I’m sorry that I-I thought…I thought…”

“It’s alright, there there. It’s alright. Shh…” Jongdae stroked her head, rocking his daughter back and forth to sleep, in between placing soft kisses on her head and murmuring soft reassurances that everything is okay and that he is here.

Over her head, his eyes meet yours and the clear film of tears has long broken and were streaming down his face, but he gives you a watery smile. One that looked relieved and thankful. You leaned your head against his shoulder, felt one of his hands find yours and his kiss on the crown of your head.

As you look up to him and on towards your daughter snuggling closer to her father, you were almost taken aback with how much she has grown and how much she grows to look more and more like Jongdae as each day passes. You know this won’t be the last time she will have to face this; getting questioned on her father’s absences, on her father’s job, on her father. You both know this will come again as she grows up.

But she’ll grow up knowing that it is not true if anyone says her father loves her any less. And you know she’ll try. Try to be strong, try to compromise, try to be resolute. Because she is Jongdae’s daughter, and just as he is strong and brave and tries hard day after day for his family, Hyejin is strong and brave too, and you hope she will try hard for her father too. You hope you can try hard for the both of them too.

Because you saw how deeply Jongdae loves; saw him love his parents, his friends, his job and his fans. And it’s not the outward declaration of love to the rooftops nor is it the grand presents. It’s him constantly worrying and helping them, and constantly wanting to make them happy. Constantly trying for them.

On that day when Jongdae first held his daughter and looked at her with such love and fascination, when he tried to discreetly wipe his tears, you knew – and you hope Hyejin will now know too – how deeply Jongdae loves and you knew how lucky you both are that he tries for you two.

#chen scenario #jongdae scenario #chen angst #jongdae angst #exo scenario #chen #jongdae

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5hfanfiction · 7 years ago

Text

House of Memories (2/3)

“Are you okay?”

“Will you be fine?”

“What are you going to do?”

Questions after questions rolling off everyone’s tongue aimed towards me as they looked both sympathetic and curious. I get why they did it; the need to comfort me after what happened. I get it. But sometimes, it’s just a tad bit much because I, for one, don’t know yet.

Am I okay? I mean, the love of my life had just wanted a divorce with me. So am I?

Will I be fine? That question is so simple. And yet, it holds so much power that I almost broke down when I had heard it. Since I had first met Camila, my future had become entangled with hers and it’s just hard to see a future where she isn’t there with me anymore.

What am I going to do? Honestly, what can I do? Is there a book or a guideline of what to do after your spouse wants a divorce? Should I go out and celebrate or should I stay in? Should I find another person to fill the void Camila left? Should I relent to what she had proposed or should I go to Camila and try to convince her that us separating isn’t the best idea?

What Camila had said is true. Everyday since she had woken up from her coma, my heart just kept breaking and my hopes kept deteriorating. So she thought that instead of her painfully clenching my heart slowly, she decided to just punch it out of my chest completely. Quick and effective.

We made a promise to each other. We promised to be there for each other, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.

The question is; she had technically died from that accident, so is the vow even valid at this point?

But even if she was different in a sense, that doesn’t mean that I don’t want her. After all, we had been through so many obstacles that it’s hard to give up just like that.

After she had disclosed everything she had been doing for the past month, it was clear that some things never change. She had always been diligent and loyal. She had spent countless hours every day trying to fight for a marriage she doesn’t even remember having. She tried everything in her power to get her memories back and I understand why she had given up.

I asked her if she wanted a divorce. If I didn’t, she would have probably tried harder. Because I know— I know that she had never once questioned our marriage until I did.

But that wasn’t my fault either. Anyone who was at my place would question it. I had to ask her because I felt like we weren’t going anywhere.

It was merely the circumstances God had put us through that eventually broke us apart. She never deserved to be a victim in the car crash in the first place, and I didn’t deserve to feel like I was neglected.

But life’s unfair and we all need to get that wrapped up in our head.

I had a plan. It was just like any other but it was still a plan. I was going to graduate college by the time I was 22; and I did. I was going to marry the love of my life; and I did that too… Right after college. I was going to work somewhere that involved politics; I haven’t but hey, I was still young. I was going to rent an apartment with my wife and make them our home; and it was, until it wasn’t anymore. I was gonna have kids with the love of my life; although we had spoken about it a few times before the accident, we had never actually gone through it (mostly because we felt like we weren’t ready since we were still trying to build a fortune)

All of those plan had almost gone smoothly for 25 years but it was easily misdirected into a timeline I didn’t know I could have. In just a click of a finger, I had lost my wife.

One that meant everything to me.

So now, all my plans had gone through the flames. Everything seemed futile. My determination was dried up every second I tried to keep our marriage together. My promises had been thrown onto a river with a strong current, destroying whatever was left of our vow.

So should I even ask myself what I should do with my life? It was pointless.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Normani asked as we sat on the dining room, blankly staring at the papers spread before me.

The dark-skinned was my childhood friend and had been with me through everything. She had seen me falling in love with a boy named Keaton. Then, she had seen me foolishly falling for his sister. She had seen my first development of the (not so) accepting phase of the idea of liking another girl.

Through it all, she never failed to make me feel weirded out and with this, I have never felt grateful about her temporarily staying with me.

Not only had she been with me while I was searching for myself, she had also been with me through everything after the downfall of our marriage. She had found out about what had happened when I called her just five minutes after I read Camila’s note the morning after she left.

Normani’s engaged to Dinah, Camila’s bestfriend. How they met was actually through us when we decided to bring our respective bestfriend out together to show that we were both serious. Without realizing, Dinah and Normani connected in ways that I couldn’t comprehend and now, years later, their relationship is stronger than ever.

While Normani is staying with me, Dinah is with Camila wherever she’s living. I had tried to tell the dark-skinned girl that I was fine (even if I wasn’t) and she shouldn’t stay with me while Dinah is in the same city as her.

Normani shook her head and said that Dinah and her wanted this. They wanted to be there for their bestfriends as Camila and I go through with the divorce.

Now, one month after Camila walked away from me, her attorney had knocked on our door and had given the papers for me to sign to confirm our divorce.

I haven’t seen Camila since that night. Most of her stuffs were still in my apartment and for some reason, I still hadn’t felt the compulsion to pack her stuff up, or even shatter everything that reminded me of her.

I felt numb.

All of her things were still how she left it. Instead of sleeping in the master bedroom like how I should have, I had decided that it was better if I occupied the same room I had when she was here.

It just felt foreign for me to sleep in our room now. Especially since we had sex on it before she left.

The room still had that distinct mixture of vanilla —her perfume— and coconut —her shampoo— diffusing through the room. It just felt entirely wrong for me to just remove that nostalgically sweet scent.

I know that at one point she had to come back here to pack everything up but right now, I could at least imagine that she was still here.

I am still in my delusional state.

The apartment was hers just as much as it was mine. Actually, this apartment is more hers than mine.

Her parents were the ones who actually gave the place to us. The owner of the building was their family friend and when they heard that Camila and I were searching for a place to live together, they simply gave it to us.

There were marks of her in our home. Like, the flip flops she had left inside the bathroom because she didn’t like the floor that were full of diseases and germs (her words, not mine). Or the dish detergent she had filtered everyday near the sink because she didn’t trust the dishwasher I had installed to make our lives easier. No, she’d rather become domestic and cleanse through our dishes for 15 minutes straight after our meal. Even if it was just 2-3 plates.

But that was all the hygienic factor she had painted in our apartment. Here’s a fact, she might be clean when it comes to hygiene, but she is probably the messiest person I had ever met.

Exhibit A, her clothes. Just stepping a foot into our —her— room, you’re probably gonna step on her clothes already. Most of her unwashed clothes were splattered all around the floor of her bedroom and it almost seemed like there was an earthquake in the walk-in closet. She was never one to sleep with clothes on so after a long day, she’d just strip down to nothing while all of her clothes fly across the room.

The living room. One time when we had just moved in, she was dancing to Reflection by this girl group I know nothing about around the room with a box on her hand and at one point, the box flew from her grasp to the island in the middle of the kitchen that it had created a big dent on the marble countertop. We both laughed it off soon after and until now, I didn’t have the heart to fix it.

Just looking at it could easily make me laugh.

The furnitures were all picked by the both of us, together.

It was back when we had just moved in, we were so excited to officially live together that we cleared any old furnitures we had so we could make new memories by buying new ones.

We walked around IKEA and in midst of it, we decided to have some fun. To every section of the store, we’d act out as if it was really our home, imitating that one scene from 500 Days of Summer, the one where they were playing house.

So with all these memories vividly playing in my mind, it’s a little bit harder for me to move on.

But, alas, what could I do? Moving out would be too much of a hassle.

I stared at the divorce papers, re-reading every black ink that is printed on the white sheet, tears filling my eyes and blurring my eyesight.

I signed the paper.

It took exactly three months for Camila to finally reach out to me after we got a divorce.

“Hey, Lauren.” Her voice was small and reluctant, making my heart clench at how timid she sounded. She was always the one who is unafraid to speak up, so this is definitely another change.

“Camila?” I asked, even though I saw the caller ID prior to the phone call. It was still ‘Wifey’ because my heart felt too heavy at every attempt in changing her contact name.

“Yeah, hey.”

“What’s up?” I asked, acting as nonchalant as I could, even as my heart pounded so hard that we’re finally talking again.

“Uh, are you busy right now?”

“Um,” I looked around my office, stacks of folders that are probably taller than the Burj Khalifa laying idly on the table. For some odd reason, I felt like lying. “No, why?”

“Are you working?” She asked.

I bit my lip, contemplating on whether I should lie or not. She could be asking if I wanted to hang out with her —and I really want to— so I decided to lie. “No, I don’t have any assignment today so my boss gave me a day off.”

“Oh,” She trailed off.

“Why?” I pushed further.

“Well, I just wanted to go over to your place and pack my stuff.” I internally sighed at how disappointed I was that she obviously didn’t really want to hang out with me. What was I thinking? “Are you in the apartment?”

“Uh, I am actually.”

“Oh well, another day the-”

“Wait,” I cut her off. “I wouldn’t mind if you clear your stuff up now, it’s not like we have to avoid each other. Hell, I could even give you a helping hand if you want.”

“Really?” she asked, sounding more than surprised.

“Yeah… Of course.”

“That could actually be helpful. Alright, I’ll be there in 30.”

Let’s just say that I drove just as fast as I could to make it at home before she could.

“Oh my God, I am such a mess,” she pointed out as she walked into her room. “Why didn’t you clear it out?”

“Oh, uhhh. I haven’t stepped into your room since you.. uhh.. left.”

“But this room is the master bedroom, why aren’t you sleeping here?” She inquired.

Because of you, you fucking dumbass, I thought.

“It just- It doesn’t feel right.” I shrugged, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible.

She nodded and we walked over to the closet. As I look around the room, I heard her sigh once she found out that the closet wasn’t any better. “This is gonna take forever. I haven’t even found a place to stay yet.”

“Wait what?” I perked up, almost causing a whiplash by how fast I turned to her. “Where have you been staying then?”

“A hotel room.. Uhh, my parents haven’t been accepting the news of us divorced yet so I don’t wanna push my luck by asking them to find another place to live.”

“Shit,” I muttered, feeling guilty now. So all the times I stayed sulking in the apartment, she was struggling to find another place to live. “Why don’t you live here? I’ll pack up and you’ll have the place to yourself.”

“Oh no, please. I would never let you do that. Besides, didn’t you read the divorce agreement? I basically gave you the apartment.”

“Really? To be quite honest, I didn’t read much. I just signed it because I trust that you won’t take advantage of me in any way." And that it hurts to even read that you really wanted to get a divorce.

"Oh, well yeah. The place is yours. I can’t take it back. I’ll find another place at some point.”

“Well, why don’t you stay here in the meantime?” I blurted out, before I caught what I had said. But nonetheless, the damage was done so I decided to try to convince her anyway. “I mean, your things are already here and I won’t be using this room anytime soon, so why don’t you stay here until you find another place to stay?”

She looked at me skeptically, probably trying to figure out why I was willing to let her, the girl who has broken my heart countless times in a span of a year, could be so generous as to let her stay for the time being.

Sure, generous could be a valid term to use in this situation. But in all honestly, the real reason I wanted her to live here was because I still wanted her in my life. I’ll never admit this to anyone but I still didn’t want to let her go, even if we had already broken up. She might forget about me, but I could never forget her and what we had.

That, and the fact that I wasn’t ready to live alone just yet. Normani, after 3 weeks of staying with me in the now empty apartment, had just gone back to Miami because she couldn’t stay with me forever.

So sure, generous is one. Selfishness is another.

Camila looked around the room, contemplating on whether she should accept it or not. Skeptically, she eyed my feigned nonchalant facial expression . “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” I said with my one billion dollar smile, hoping that she doesn’t see a glimpse of hope surging through my body.

The first few weeks of having Camila back into the apartment was weird, to say the least.

There were obvious tensions between us – a huge elephant staring at us mockingly as our awkward encounters unfold before him.

It started in the kitchen, a few hours after we moved all of her things back into her room. After months without a roommate, I forgot that Camila already moved in. She was always in her room the whole afternoon putting her things away so she could finally call the apartment home once again. So that night, whilst cooking dinner, I decided to put modesty aside and just wear a bra and panties.

It was a habit I had gotten used to ever since I first moved in with Camila back when we were still together since I didn’t want the cooking smell to glue stuck to my clothes. But ever since the accident, I deemed it inappropriate to parade around half naked even if she was still my wife.

When Camila moved out, however, I picked up on the habit once more.

In midst of cooking, I was humming to the music as Lana Del Rey’s Cola was blaring out of the speaker in the kitchen. That was my mistake. Because then, I couldn’t hear the door open and close, along with her feet slowly padding towards the kitchen floor.

I did hear a gasp though, causing me to almost hurt my neck at how fast I turned towards the source of sound.

She stood there, wearing an oversized sweater that has half of a Britain flag and sleep shorts that has small pineapples scarcely printed on it, the expression of shock etched on her face a she stared at my body.

On instincts, I squeaked, “Fuck,” then blocked my body with hands, as if it could cover my naked skin.

She was still static, her eyes locked on the flesh of my bare skin, making me grow self-conscious and insecure at her lack of reaction within each second that passed. I looked around and searched for anything that I could cover myself with, only to come up empty handed since the only thing that was at my reach was a bunch of bananas.

After what seemed like hours, she was finally out of her trance and she shook her head. The chocolate eyed latina turned around, mumbling an almost inaudible “Sorry.” And almost immediately, she was gone again.

The next day after that wasn’t any better either. For some reason, God wants one of us to suffer — my kind of suffering is more of sexual frustration —because the second I walked into the living room, the first thing I saw was her wrapped in a small towel that left nothing for imagination as she paced around the room, seemingly searching for something. What’s worse was that when I walked in, she was almost bent over, meaning that I could see a glimpse of the lower part of her ass.

My own train of thought slammed into my head and I was dragged to the euphoric dream of my ex-wife; with her naked in bed looking at me over hooded eyes, magnetizing me by her seducing smile—

She cleared her throat and yanked me out of my inappropriate daydream, causing blood to rush to my cheeks and I immediately looked everywhere but the brunette in front of me.

“Have you seen my phone anywhere?” She asked over the deafening silence.

I looked around and at first glance, I saw that that it was sitting idly on top of the end table near the couch. I pointed at it, causing her to curse inwardly at how stupid she was to not check there first.

She walked over to her phone and scrolled through it as I stood there awkwardly, contemplating whether to forgo my initial intention, which was to watch TV, and walk back to my room or not. It was my home too so why should I hide when I could waste it on TV shows and popcorn. But then, holy fuck is this awkward.

“Um Lauren,” she pulled me out of my train of thought once more with her silky voice. It was funny because just the mere calling of my name could cause my heart to flip and a riot to break out inside of my stomach. “I just wanna say sorry for walking in on you in the kitchen yesterday. I heard that you were cooking and my always empty stomach needed to see what it was. I didn’t know you were,” she cleared her throat. “Half naked.”

“It’s okay,” I answered, my face heating up at the embarrassing ordeal the day before. “I’m sorry too for walking in on you, well, now.”

“Oh no, it’s okay.”

Awkward silence ensued. The tension was palpable now, eating the both of us alive while we glanced at anywhere but each other.

“Well-” I spoke up suddenly without a second thought, desperate to fill something — anything — onto the silence coating the air. She looked over at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue, so I decided to just pull myself away from the uncomfortably tense air and watch something in my room. “I’m just gonna… go back to my room now.”

That following week, the hours I spent at home was wasted on mostly in my room, afraid of any other awkward encounter that might happen between Camila and I the second I try to walk out.

And if it did happen, it always leads to an awkward greeting and a hasty goodbye.

Until we had enough.

One fateful Saturday morning, a couple weeks after she settled back in the apartment, we crossed paths once more in the kitchen. Her back was on me as she was focusing at the task at hand — which was cooking — when I walked in. Since she hadn’t seen me, I juggled between leaving and staying, which I soon decided on the latter because Camila attempting to cook can make anyone happy, even if it’s in the morning.

Just as she inserted a piece of bacon into the frying pan, a sound of the oil burning intensified, causing her to squeal in surprise.

I chuckled softly as the story of Camila cooking unfold before me. Anything related to the kitchen — aside from eating, of course — really isn’t her forte.

She almost dumped another bacon, and that was when I decided to step forward.

“Okay Camila, don’t.” I walked over to the station and halted her movement. As amusing as it was to watch her cook, I preferred the apartment to stay in tact for now. “Let me help, just sit down.”

“But-” She tried to oppose.

“No please, I don’t have anywhere else to live,” I joked with a small smile playing on my lips. “Just sit down and I’ll cook for the both of us.”

She objected physically with a pout, her bottom lip jutting out more than necessary, but backed away to the nearest stool nonetheless. “At least you have clothes on now,” she joked, causing me to laugh lightheartedly.. For some reason, it didn’t make me blush like I would’ve.

After some time, I was finally done cooking and we were sat across from each other on the dining table, a somewhat comfortable silence blanketing the air.

“I cooked one of these bacon right? Which one is it? I bet it was perfect.”

I looked at her with an unamused expression and showed the bacon she fried; which was distinct since one side of the bacon was burned out.

“Nevermind. I don’t think I should cook from now on.”

“Why did you?” I asked curiously. Before this, I always see her eat cereal for breakfast, so that morning was a new occurrence for the both of us.

“I’ve been eating cereal for so long now, even before I moved here. I wanted something new,” she answered softly, looking down at the now empty plate.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, I could’ve cooked for you.” I pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I thought you didn’t want me near you. You always avoid me every time we bump into each other, like I was a plague,” she whispered the last part, hoping I didn’t catch it. But I did. “I didn’t want to be more burden to you.”

I didn’t think it through. I thought I was doing her a favor by dodging more awkward incidents but I didn’t know that it was causing Camila to feel self-conscious about her stay here.

“I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I mean, the first two days were pretty awkward. So-”

She laughed now, surprising me by how light it sounded. “I have to admit, it really was. Especially since one of us wasn’t dressed properly.”

I blushed.

“But I really want this to work, Lauren.”

“What?” I asked out loudly.

“I don’t want things to be awkward between us,” she clarified. “I want us being roommates, despite our history, to work.”

I pondered over it for a few seconds. On one hand, this could bring us closer together and maybe then, she’d remember, or at least fall in love with me again. On the other, this could bring us closer and my love for her could intensify while she falls in love for another.

But nonetheless, I still wanted her close to me. “Me too,” a soft smile etched on my face.

After the talk we had, Camila and I were able to communicate better. The brown-eyed girl was a lot more laid-back and she became comfortable with me than she ever had after the accident.

I mean, don’t get me wrong, there were times where it was a struggle.

Walking into her eating ice cream in the middle of the night with nothing but a cropped tank top and shorts was not ideal for a sexually-frustrated Lauren.

But other than sexual tension — mostly on my part — we were like friends who apparently live together. It felt like everything fell back to place.

For once, it seemed like Camila really liked my company.

For once, it seemed like I wasn’t an obligation to her anymore.

“Oh come on Lauren, I bet I can do a back flip,” she cockily pointed out. I didn’t know where how the talk went from The 1975 to backflips, but that’s the thing about our dynamic. We connect so well that we could talk about one thing and it’ll escalate to so more random discussions. I was never one to get tired of our conversation.

“Oh please, you can barely even walk straight, what more a backflip.” I said, acting indifferent which I knew would fuel determination on her part. This made her stand up from the couch and stared down at me.

“You wanna see?” She narrowed her eyes, raising a brow as to challenge me. She tried to look threatening but on my book, she just looked cute.

“I’d like to see you try,” I challenged. With that, she silently looked around the small space, searching for a space so she could do a 'backflip.’

I didn’t know she was serious until she tried to push the coffee table to the side.

“Okay shit no. Please don’t. One major hospital trip for you is enough.”

“Lauren? Can we get a dog?” I heard Camila shout the second I stepped into the apartment. Heavy footsteps padded through the floor towards where I was and soon enough, Camila showed herself in a disheveled state, wearing nothing but a huge grey sweater that was big enough to cover half of her thighs and long orange socks. If you looked close enough, you could see that there were chihuahuas’ head sewn on the socks.

“What why?”

“Why do I need a reason to get a dog?”

“Cause they’re dogs, Camila. You need to think things through. I mean, think about the responsibilities that might entail. Feeding them. Having to walk the dog everyday. You need to bathe it from time to time. They’re nightmares. Why not get a cute little fish?”

She pouted, her bottom lip poking out the way that was just too adorable, making me turn mushy, my knees finding it hard to stand straight. Before I gave in, I looked away and walked towards the couch, slumping down when I did. She followed suit and sat beside me.

“Because I want to pet it. Fishes are cute but they’re too fragile for me to even touch it,” she answered.

“Oh trust me, I know. I had a pet fish once and he almost died because of it.”

“How?” She twisted one of her leg and turned around to face me, making her knee touch the side of my thigh. The electricity that jolts through my body, even with me wearing a pantsuit, was so palpable that I couldn’t help but shudder at the contact.

I shook my head as to keep my head and mind straight, clearing my throat to remove the bile that just formed on my throat. The air got lighter by a bunch when Camila did nothing but smile at me, oblivious to my reaction at a mere touch.

“Rocky, the name of my late fish, likes to kiss my finger. Every time I put it in-”

Camila chuckled.

I cocked my eyebrow up. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Anyway, every time I put it in-”

Camila chuckled again.

“Dammit Camila.”

“I’m sorry. Please continue.”

“Anyway,” I narrowed my eyes on her. “Each time I put my finger in his bowl, he kisses it. And one time, I had a long day so I needed my fish to kiss my finger to feel his affection and love. And he kissed it like 3 times which was more than enough. On the third time, I decided I had enough fish kisses so I pulled my finger out of the fish bowl really fast. Little did I know, Rocky had decided to make out with my finger just then and so, when I pulled it out, he flew to the other end of the room and I started crying and screaming. It was a mess because I had to dig through a pile of books and clothes to find him. Luckily, he was still alive when I put him back in the bowl. He was pretty mad after that though.”

Camila laughed wholeheartedly, clutching her stomach when she tried to hold it in. “I’m sorry but that is so funny. Poor Rocky. Where is he now?”

“He died a few months later. I think he was too old. It’s either that or my family forgot to feed it since I was in college when he died.”

“Probably the latter.”

“Probably,” I sighed. “Damn parents.”

“Tell me about it,” she smiled softly. “But anyway, as gratifying as it will be for you to take care of another fish, I still want a dog.”

“We live in an apartment though. Would the landlord let us?”

“Oh shush. The owner of the building loves me. They can’t throw us out.”

“But why dogs? They’re a mess,” I tried to reason.

“Why not a dog? I want something hairy to pet.”

“You have your legs,” I pointed out jokingly, causing her to slap my arm. “Ouch. It’s true… Look at that thing, it’s full of hair.”

“Shut up Lauren. You love my legs.”

“Yes I do.”

I chastised myself internally, unhappy that I’m making it awkward once again. Thankfully, she let it go.

“Are they really that hairy?” Camila asked curiously, looking down at her legs.

“Yes.”

“Dammit. I’m gonna go to the bathroom now.” She stood up and started walking towards her room. That didn’t stop her from rambling though. “But we haven’t finished our discussion Lauren. I still want a dog. I’m really determined to get one. I’m not gonna forget this topic at hand. I’m great at persuading so we’re gonna own one at the end of the day, I know-” As she got further and further away, it became incoherent.

She forgot about it when she came back and saw boxes of pizza laying atop of the coffee table. I struggled in holding back my laugh when she said, “What did we talk about before I showered?”

I hate to admit it, but she really was a great coaxer. Because the day before her birthday, I adopted a puppy and surprised when she came home.

It was worth it though, because the second she saw him, she screamed and hugged the puppy for dear life, almost killing the dog along the way.

We named it Leo.

“I’m home,” I called out to no one in particular, cracking my neck to the sides because of the long day I had in the office.

“Lauren, help!” Her ear-splitting voice rang out to my eardrum, accompanied with the sounds of splashes and groans to the otherwise silent apartment. “Leo! Stay still.”

I walked towards her room, ignoring my pounding heart when I saw the unmade bed as memories of our night together flashed before me, and into the bathroom, curious as to what she and the puppy were doing.

The Latina was disheveled, hair messy with drenched shirt as she tried to hold Leo down and into the half-filled bathtub, but he didn’t make her job easier by splashing the water around trying to avoid the puddle of water.

I let out a full-throated laugh, amused at her effort to wash the impish dog without a partner.

“Don’t just stand there, Lo.” She squealed out when Leo tried hopping away from her grasp. “Help me.”

As amused as I was to watch Camila struggle, I felt bad after a few seconds. I took ahold of the dog and crouched beside the bathtub alongside her, holding onto Leo as Camila splashed water on him.

Soon enough, Camila deemed him clean and we wrapped him in a huge towel that only his head was peeking out of it.

It was as if the fur ball was our very own baby.

But I shook the thought out as fast as it came, not willing to dwell on the thought of having a family with my ex-wife.

Leo rested on her bed with the towel securing him from the cold air while Camila and I walked back into the bathroom to clean up the mess he made before he bathed.

“Thank you, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold him before you came. If it wasn’t for you, I would’ve had to chase after him with water dripping down his fur. The apartment would’ve been a mess.”

“No problem Camz,” The nickname rolled out of my tongue faster than my brain could process, causing my eyes to pop out of its sockets once I realized what I just said.

“Camz?” She asked curiously. “I’ve never heard of that name before.”

“Yeah… Uhh..” I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly subconsciously. “It was a nickname I gave you back… then.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Uh.. It felt weird calling you that after the accident.”

She was thoughtful for a moment, just eyeing me while I grew nervous and I didn’t know why.

“Well, I like it. I don’t mind if you call me that.” She paused. “Actually, I would have preferred it.”

“Well, alright then. Camz it is.”

Each day that passed, it became easier. Life, in general, became easier after Camila moved back in. Granted, it wasn’t like how it was back when we were together, but it was better than the time when everything was tense right after the infamous accident. It felt like I was starting a new friendship with a stranger; exciting and exotic. I didn’t know what the future held — and it didn’t matter as long as I get to stare into her welcoming chocolate eyes — every time we were together.

We had so much fun, pranking and joking around that I forgot that we weren’t together. And I didn’t mind it, not at first, until Normani blurted out something that burst the bubble filled with delusions.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Normani shouted through the phone’s speaker.I had just told her that Camila and I were living together again.

(More like she found out when she overheard Camila asking if I wanted anything since she was going out for a bit)

“Mani, chill… It’s really fine. We seem like we’re old friends than anything else,” I reasoned, sitting down on my bed dejectedly since I knew that I was gonna hear an earful that night.

“Stop lying to me and yourself Lauren. You still love her and you’re still hoping for her to get her memories back.”

“No…” I said with no conviction whatsoever.

“Oh really? Then tell me why Lauren. How did you fucking decide that it was fine to let your ex-wife live with you?” She spat bitterly and I winced at aggressive she sounded.

I knew Camila was my ex-wife, goddammit, but Normani really didn’t have to remind me.

“I just… I feel bad that I’m living in the apartment while she struggled, okay? I know she gave it to me. But come on, her parents bought it for us and it’s not like I was using her room.”

“Yes.. I know but that doesn’t make this right. You’re still trying to get over her, Lauren. This won’t be healthy for you.”

“I know but-” I was cut off before I could excuse myself.

“She doesn’t remember anything. And I doubt she will. This is unfair for you because you’re left with memories she doesn’t have while she gets to be happy with Michael-” she stopped talking immediately, indicating that she didn’t plan on blurting out the last part.

“Wait, what?”

Silence.

“Normani. What did you say?” I pushed some more.

Silence.

“GODDAMMIT MANI. What did you say?”

I heard a sigh at the end of the other end of the receiver.

“She’s with Michael, Lauren.” Normani’s words were like a punch to the gut and I gripped the phone tighter that I almost heard it cracking.

“What?” I was baffled, completely and utterly confused. I tried thinking back, trying to find instances where Camila said or did anything that might’ve hinted that she was with someone else.

There were times where she looked at her phone more than necessary, but I didn’t dwell more on it because I thought that it was Dinah or her other friends that were texting her.

There were also times where she went home later than usual but again, I reasoned it as her friends bringing her out.

I should’ve known better.

But then, how could I? I was so blinded because we were having so fun together. I was falling for her more and more and I thought that she felt the same.

She didn’t tell me anything about Michael every time we were together, how was I supposed to know that she became his?

This was what I was scared of, and it was happening.

I was silent for a week, and it caused Camila to become more cautious with me. She tried prying it out of me for days, but to no avail, so she decided to just let me be.

I locked myself in my room, trying to think of some solution at my current predicament.

I was angry at Camila for a while. I thought that she was leading me on by getting closer to me and not telling that she wasn’t single.

But I soon realized that it was unfair to point the finger at her. She didn’t owe me any explanation. She didn’t need to tell me that she was with someone else. We weren’t together.

She didn’t do anything that I could say that she was leading me on. She kept it as friendly as possible, and nothing seemed romantic.

But that’s what hurt most. While I was falling hard for her, reading too much of her body language, the truth was that I was wrong. I romanticized everything she did and acted as if she, too, was in love with me.

Unrequited love, I laughed humorlessly.

After exactly a week of radio silence between us, Normani called.

“Lauren..” Normani greeted as soon as I pressed the answer button. “Camila’s been calling Dinah and asking what happened to you. She said you’re always cooped up in your room and you don’t talk to her anymore. She’s worried, Laur.”

“Yeah…” I said, half listening because I was too overwhelmed with feelings.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I moved around the bed, the room was dark and the only source of light was from outside. Clothes were thrown about on the floor and there was a huge pile of plate on the bedside table, simply because I didn’t want to eat with Camila anymore.

I wasn’t angry with her anymore though, but that didn’t mean I wanted to hang with her. Not anytime soon at least.

Even so, I was worried about Camila’s well-being. I was always the one who cooked for us. So now, every time I made food, I always made extra for her with a little note on the side. But that’s the only interaction we’ve had for the past week.

“Lauren, please… you should know by now that I know you better than anyone. Except maybe Camila.”

“Yeah…” I said mindlessly. My heart pounded against my chest painfully. It hurt but I ignored it, feeling accustomed with dejection that my heart had gone through.

“You should try talking to her. She’s worried about you, you know that? I’ve never seen her like this. She thinks she did something wrong.”

I wanted to argue that it was, indeed, her fault. But I couldn’t. It was because of her but it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t deserve to be blamed, especially since it was because of my own irrational behavior.

“Just try to explain and reason with her Laur. She’ll understand.”

When we ended the call (with me promising countless times that I’ll talk to Camila), I walked towards the door of her room and knocked softly, nerves traveling through my veins.

I heard shuffling noises, along with whispered conversations, on the other side of the door. I racked my brain to try to figure out how to start explaining to Camila. I still didn’t know what to say, but that didn’t matter because when she opened the door, I saw Michael sitting on the bed with Leo on his lap.

Our bed.

Our dog.

My eyes burned at the sight. And holy fuck, it hurt so much at the confirmation the sight before me held.

I felt everything at once. Betrayal. Jealousy. Pain. Unspoken rejection.

I locked eyes with Camila as my view became blurry. I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt a tear fall down my cheek.

We stared at each other and despite what the hazy vision, I saw guilt in her expression.

Shaking my head, I decided that maybe talking isn’t the best thing to do right now, not when I feel so raw and hurt. So with that in mind, I turned my heels and walked back inside my room without exchanging any word with Camila.

My feelings were caged well until I was in the safety of my own room. When the lock was secured, a sob made it’s way to my throat and it echoed through the otherwise silent room. My back fell to the door and I slid down until I was sitting down, face tugged on my knees as I try to silence the hurtful sobs. It felt like someone was scratching my heart, pulling it down until it feels like it weighs a ton. My arms that were hugging my knees became wet as tears flows down easily.

I heard a hesitant knock that became surer at each second that passed. It vibrated to my body.

I knew it was Camila, who else could it be after all?

I ignored it though, not willing to look at the girl that just broke my heart for the second time.

Unfortunately, she didn’t give up easily so she just kept going.

“Lauren…” She said softly, the door muffling her voice. “Laur, can we talk please?”

Silence.

I heard her sigh. “I wanna explain.”

Silence.

She continued knocking repetitively on the door, which became increasingly frustrating to me because all I ever wanted was a time to myself for me to accept whatever I just saw

But apparently, that was too much to ask.

So I stood up and aggressively rubbed away the tears on cheek, yanking the door open after.

“What the fuck do you want?” I asked, clear and transparent tone of hostility present as I spat those words out.

She was surprised by the aggression and gulped, suddenly feeling small. She has never seen me mad in a long time, and definitely not this much ever, so this was new to Camila.

My eyes narrowed to her fearful eyes.

I rolled my eyes when she didn’t reply and attempted to close the door. But before I could, she immediately stuck her foot in front of her to stop it from fully closing.

I opened the door once more and she immediately walked passed me to my room uninvitedly, determined to talk it out with me.

I sighed, knowing that she isn’t going to quit until I talk.

She put a great distance between us, still scared of me. And it hurt that she thinks I’d do anything that could harm her.

No matter how angry I was with her or the situation at hand, I would never do anything that could hurt her. Or anyone for that matter.

But she wouldn’t know that. She forgot about me.

A humorless laugh made its way out of my mouth, making the girl before me confused.

She probably thinks I’m crazy.

I was mad at myself. At the end of the day, no matter how much Camila had hurt me, I was the one to blame.

I was the one who let her in again, she didn’t do anything. She was always cautious, not wanting to do anything that could jeopardize our progress in being friends.

That’s all she’s ever wanted; for us to become friends.

She didn’t know that I was still in love with her. That I was still longing for us to be together.

But then, I was never one to being subtle. With Camila, I had always put my heart on my sleeve for her to do anything with it.

She could stomp it to the ground and it would still beat for her and only her. She should know that by now.

“What do you want, Camila?” I asked once more. But this time, it sounded defeated more than anything else.

“I feel like I should explain,” she answered warily.

“You don’t have to. I get it,” I said dismissively.

“Well..” She trailed off. “We’re together.”

The confirmation brought my anger to the surface once more, intensifying at each passing second that soon transfused through the tense air.

“Again,” I spat. “I get it.”

“Then why are you angry?” She asked dumbly.

“Why I’m angry?” I scoffed. “You really wanna ask me that?”

“Yeah. It’s not like we’re together or anything.” She raised brow, as if to challenge me, becoming quite irritated.

Her words felt like a gun to my heart, the bullet passing though my ribcage and tearing my heart until it bleeds out.

“Oh yeah. But did you have to bring him here, into our apartment where I’m just a few doors away from you? You’re not entailed to me and I get that, but fuck Camila, we were married!” My voice becoming increasingly loud. “I get that it doesn’t mean anything to you, after all, you can’t remember a goddamn thing about me. But I’m not as lucky as you are, you know? My memories that has you in it doesn’t just disappear. Could you be more empathetic?”

“I—” She tried but her words died, so I decided to continue. I’ve held back for far too long to stop now.

“You brought him to the apartment, does that not mean anything to you? Our apartment. To our room. You know? Remember when you asked why I didn’t want to stay in that room? I said it didn’t feel right. You know why?” I asked rhetorically.

“I didn’t want to stay in that room because memories of us will always linger in that room. I will always remember the way you wake up in the room next to me, smiling with that cute smile of yours. Ill always remember the feeling of your back against me as we try to fall asleep. I remember that one time, you were watching various dancing videos on youtube and you tried to follow through their choreography. You forced me to stay and rewind every time you can’t catch their dance moves. It ended with you falling because you stepped on your own foot. I had to massage you and become your personal butler that day, because you 'couldn’t walk.’ But then, that night, when I was bring food to you, there was a crack at the door and I saw you humming and walking back to the bed from the bathroom. I was mad and you became my personal butler that following night for me to forgive you.”

I laughed bitterly at the memory.

“I’ll always remember you. No matter how hard I try to forget. But you don’t care about that. You brought him somewhere that hasn’t been infected with broken memories of us, somewhere I consider sacred because of the heavy reminder that you were once mine. But that’s it, isn’t it? It’s basically a reminder that you’re not mine anymore.

"You wanna know something? Did you know the reason I let you back here again was because I still want you? I let you in again because I thought I could make you fall for me again. And fuck,” I aggressively pulled my hair back, pulling it when I did. “I thought I was doing a good job. But you just— You didn’t. And it backlashed because it only resulted in me falling for you again. How I felt for you resurfaced. It was like I was tied down on a train track, and a train just fucking drove through me. And I let it. I can’t believe this.”

“Laur,” she walked towards me but I couldn’t let her get close, so I backtracked.

“Please don’t. I can’t.” I was crying, the tears flowing down like a faucet.

“Can’t what?” She inquired, her eyes were just beginning to water too.

“I can’t stay here. I can’t do this anymore. You already brought him here and I don’t wanna try and save a place that basically means nothing to you. It was my home, but to you, it’s just a place you’re staying at.”

I paced around the room, not willing to look back at the girl that has no regards about my feelings. I walked to my closet and hastily took out my suitcase.

“Lauren, wait!” Camila ran to me and tried to stop me, her hand touched mine and I retracted it immediately as if it burned me. In a way, it did.

She held a pained expression but I ignored it.

Not wanting to be near her, I walked away, taking my phone and my purse with me.

“I’ll just— I’ll get my stuff tomorrow. I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight. Just stay here, I guess. I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

I walked out of the room and out of the apartment with Camila trailing behind, trying to stop me.

She couldn’t because the second I was out of the building, I got in my car and locked the door. She kept banging on the window, screaming at me to open the door.

I revved up the engine and drove away.

Finally, after more than 2 years of hopelessly holding onto memories that she doesn’t even remember, I finally gave up on Camila.

—

A/N: I also posted this on wattpad (shes-ariot) called Lego House.

#UPDATE #one shot #series #AU #camren #angst drama #family #romance fluff #submission #House of Memories

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