#he made an effort to hide it before because he knew it wasn’t ‘right’ or socially acceptable to act the way he does | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

diamond-rozie · 3 months ago

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Tim stepped cleanly inside the room, and carefully shut the door behind him after checking if anyone was in the hallway. “What are you-” Danny started confused. Tim was acting very unusually right now.

“I’m Red Robin.” He said.

Danny stared at him for a few seconds. Tim had expected him to be more shocked, Danny wasn’t like Damian and Bruce in the aspect of holding back his reactions. He watched Danny carefully and noticed that he wasn’t even surprised at all.

His shoulder shifted a little, and a look passed in his eyes. He was relieved. That didn’t make any sense unless, “You knew.”

It made an irrevocable amount of sense. The stupid excuses he didn’t question, the easy slide bys on things that didn’t add up. Tim had wondered why Danny never brought it up with any of them. He was always quick to call bullshit on things but conveniently never on their mission cover ups.

“Yeah.” He admitted quietly, findling with the small screwdriver in his hand.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Tim asked. He felt a little ridiculous about it all now, “How long have you known?” Tim’s mind went back to the dining room argument from last night and he rolled through it in his head. “Wait, Jason knows you know, doesn’t he?” Tim blurted, “That why he- why didn’t I realize this sooner?”

“I mean I know you guys can’t just tell whoever you want. It’s a secret identity for a reason. You guys didn’t want me to know. So I acted like I didn’t.” Danny shrugged. “I figured it out when Dick and Bruce were in Amity, and yeah, Jason knows. He also knows I’m Phantom. Cass knows too- not the Phantom thing. Or maybe she does, I don't know.”

“You knew the whole time?” Tim balked. All the effort they put in to hide the proof before he came, and he knew the whole time. Wait, did he say- “You’re Phantom?” Tim practically yelled.

Danny blinked at him, “I thought you knew that.” He pointed the end of the screw driver at him, “Why were you guys so okay with him being in the cave then?”

“We thought he was Thomas Jr.” Tim threw his hands up, rethinking his entire career choice. “I mean, yeah he was in Amity with you, but we figured it was like a guardian ghost thing since the time Dick met him that one time when you got lost or something he was the one- holy shit, you were following them the whole time weren’t you.”

“You thought Thomas was Phantom?” Danny laughed, finding this ridiculous.

“Isn’t that how supernatural stuff works or something. Like, you guys are linked because you were switched with each other and because you were with the family he was supposed to be with so he turned into a protective spirit to, like, watch over you or something.”

Danny's look of appalment only deepened as Tim continued explaining. “Who told you that?”

“I mean we just kinda figured it out ourselves based on past experiences.”

“Past experience?”

“With supernatural stuff the right conclusion is always the most unexpected and slightly irrational one.”

Danny snorted at that. “That is a really bad rule of thumb.”

“Right, then explain how you’re the ghost Phantom when you’re also human and alive Danny.” Tim crossed his arms. He was trying really hard not to over analyze that right. Did that mean Danny was dead or that Phantom was alive? How could he be both? Well according to Schrödinger's theory- not now Tim. He should make a new file for this later and then he’d think about it. Alone. In his room where he could properly freak out over this.

“Touche.” Danny clearly thought this was funny so no need to put a damper on the mood. Especially after everything that already happened.

This information changed a lot of things. Tim would have to refer this back to the Fenton-Masters case. What about Damian? Did he know Danny was Phantom? Probably not, considering none of them had, apparently aside from Jason. It would be almost impossible for Tim to not tell him that since they were supposed to be working it together. Tim wasn’t sure how he would take the information. Not only that, but gave a new scope to the vultures that had attacked and the monster that had showed up from the pits.

Later. File. Many lists.

“Do you want to come to Mt. Justice?” Tim asked him.

“Like the museum?”

“Yes and no. It’s also the Young Justice base. It’s top secret and no ones supposed to know about it.”

“What! Then why are you telling me?”

“Do you wanna go or not?”

“Is that even allowed?”

“Definitely not.”

Danny raised a brow. “Then we can’t go?”

“It’s far but we can just take the jet. It’s like 30 minutes tops. We could take the zeta-tubes but then Bruce would find out you took the zeta-tubes and then we’d be fucked. Well, mostly me. But still.”

“Wouldn’t he find out we took the jet then?”

“He wouldn’t know you were on the jet. It’s not weird for me to be going there since it is my team.”

“What if we get in trouble?”

“We’ll only get in trouble if we get found out.” Tim shrugged, “Do you want to go or not?”

Danny considered it for a moment before a grin tipped his face. “Yeah.”

“Sweet.” Tim reached for his phone only not realizing he didn’t have it. “I’ll let them know we’ll be coming around. They’re all already there. Tell Alfred you’ll be going out with some friends and then come meet me at Drake Manor.”

Danny seemed to embrace the situation now, forgoing his earlier hesitance. “I’ll wrap up some stuff. I should do breakfast too so Alfred doesn’t think anything is up. I’ll give you a heads up before I’m out the door. I’ll take my bike.”

“Take the long way round since the Manor’s in the opposite direction of the city.”

Danny nodded. “What about you?” he asked.

“No one’s gonna ask if I go in costume.” Tim shrugged, “Speaking of costume…” Tim turned to where he knew the wardrobe to be, “Let me see your clothes.” He opened the double doors in the bathroom where the closest would be and blinked at the largely empty room. “Where are the rest of your clothes?” He asked. Danny looked confused by that, “Oh,” Tim realized, “You used a second closet. Smart. Is it in the lab?”

“No, Tim.” He said, pacing his words, “These are all my clothes.”

“Oh. Why?”

“This is a normal amount of clothes to own.”

“But it’s like barely covering a fourth of your closet. And that’s only because everything is so spread apart.”

“That's because the closest is the size of a literal barn. Why on Earth would I need that many clothes?”

“I thought Bruce gave you an allowance?”

“He did.”

“Is it not enough?”

Danny balked at him. “Did you ask to see my closet just to make fun of me?” He huffed.

“I’m not making fun, I’m concerned.” Tim said genuinely. Did Danny not feel comfortable asking for things? It must be because they were keeping so many secrets and he thought they didn’t trust him. This clearly ran deeper than Tim originally thought.

Danny shoved his hand in Tim’s face, pushing him back. “Can we get back to the point?”

“Right.”

--- later ---

“Give it back!”

“No, I had it first!

“Nu-uh. I just put it down for like two seconds when you grabbed it.”

“You were gone for the whole round.”

“Where’s the controller you had before?”

“It died.”

“There's a bunch of other ones in the drawer.”

“You can have one from there, then.”

“No! I want the one I had back.” Tim insisted.

“No.” Danny moved so he couldn’t reach it.

“That controller is player 1, so give it back.”

“Exactly why I’m not giving it back.”

“Why would you be player 1?”

Danny looked so smug at that, “If you recall, I’m actually older than you which gives me sovereign right over player 1.” He said pushing Tim away.

“That doesn’t even mean anything!”

“Ah, to be young and naive.”

“Fuck you.” Tim said, tackling him off the sofa.

“What on God’s green Earth is going on here?” Cass asked, returning from their small intermission for snacks.

Bart rushed up to join her. “Is Danny winning?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No you're not! Give it back.”

“Get off me.”

Kon was the last to come onto the site. “Guys.” He said seriously, “Superman’s coming. And there’s someone with him.”

Tim stopped trying to strangle Danny, sharing a look of panic with his team.

“So?” Danny asked, confused.

“Danny, you're not supposed to be here.” Tim hissed at him. “Shit. How do we hide you from Superman?”

“It was nice knowing you.” Kon said with a sarcastic smile.

“How far is he?” Cassie asked.

“He’ll be here in like two minutes.”

“I’ll hide under the couch, he probably won’t look under there.” Danny offered.

“He can hear your heartbeat.”

Danny smiled widely. “I got it covered.” He said, pulling himself into the small space.

Bart giggled in excitement.

“How-”

Kon gave a silent sign that Superman was here, sending a confused look towards the couch Danny had slid under. Tim’s phone buzzed with a notification.

Just then, “Konner?” Clark called from the Mission Room.

The team shared a silent look. They’d just have to trust Danny had this covered.

“We’re in here.” Bart called even though Clark would already know that.

Tim put up two fingers to silently ask Kon if there was someone else with him. He received an affirmative. This was a horrible day for prospective teammate introductions.

“Hey guys.” Clark smiled, then confused “Why are you sitting on the floor Red Robin?” He asked.

“I was checking something.” Tim said, picking up the controller Danny had been forced to abandon.

“Oh, okay.” He nodded, not questioning it further. “I’m glad all of you are already here.”

“Are we getting a mission?” Cassie asked.

“Sort of.” Clark said, excited. Then in Kryptonian, “ Come .” He said to someone behind him they couldn’t see. Tim couldn’t hear any footsteps. And he found out it was because the person Clark was introducing them to could fly. And Tim also found out that Clark had spoken in kryptonian because this new person was a kryptonian. One that Tim had never met before. “This is Kara. She’s my cousin. The entire situation isn’t all clear yet but as it stands we understand that her pod, while launched at the same time as mine, was caught in an asteroid belt and was only left free recently, when it landed near the Fortress of Solitude.” Clark turned to Kara and introduced them to her in Kryptonian and then added, “ Tim and Kon-el speak Kryptonian which is why I thought you would be more comfortable here instead of the Watch Tower. Though, Kon’s could use some work. ” He teased.

“Hey, my Kryptonian is fine.”

“Why don’t you try saying that in Kryptonian?”

“ My fine is Kryptonian .” Kon said confidently.

Clark laughed and Kara looked at Kon like he grew a second head.

“I don’t even speak Kryptonian and I could tell that didn’t sound right.” Cassie laughed.

Tim took his turn to introduce himself to the nervous and quite blonde. “ I’m Red Robin. ” He pointed to the symbol on his chest. “ It’s nice to meet you. ” He put out a hand for her to shake but Kara just stared at it. Maybe they don’t have hand shakes on Krypton. Since Clark had grown up on Earth he didn’t really know much about the customs of his home planet for them to have learned it beforehand.

“ Nice to meet you. I am Kara Zor-el, daughter of Captain Zor-El and the Lady Alura. ” Then she stuck out her hand like Tim had. When Tim took it to shake Kara seemed surprised by it.

“ You’ll be in good hands here, Kara. I’ll be back to check on you later but if you need anything Kon or any of the others can get a hold of me for you, okay ?” Clark said softly trying to gauge if she’d actually be okay here without him.

Kara started at Clark for a moment like she was processing what he’d said, “ Why will anyone need to hold you? ”

“Oh.” Clark pondered it, “ It’s an Earth phrase. It just means that they’ll send me a message or contact me if you feel like you want me to come back. ”

Kara took another pause to process and then, “ I see. ” And does a hand gesture that Tim didn’t understand. And neither did Clark. No one commented on it.

After Clark left the atmosphere of the room went stale. Danny was still under the couch and they weren’t sure how willing Kara would be to not tell Clark about it. But they couldn’t leave Kara. And Tim’s phone was buzzing with notifications that he did not want to check because he recognized the haptics of the health app he had. The one that had everyone, including Danny’s, vitals. Danny, who Tim was pretty sure had just stopped his heart for the entire duration of Clark being here. Which had been a very long duration.

Kara looked between them, confused. “ Is there something meant to be done? ”

“ How’s your english, Kara?” Tim asked.

“ Only a little . Kal-El said it will take time .”

“ Langage harding learn. ” Kon nodded. Kara lipped his words back to herself trying to make sense of it.

“What do we do about our stowaway?” Cass whispered to Tim. She didn’t speak Kryptnoian, but she understood enough to know what Tim had asked.

“I could dash him out. Maybe we could spend the day together at the mall and then we’ll be best friends and then he won’t want to hang with Tim anymore because he’d rather hang out with me because I’m so much more fun.” Bart said all in one breath, his words afterwards speeding up too fast for Tim to make any sense of.

“She’ll know something’s up. We need to test her loyalty.” Tim strategized while Kon attempted to keep Kara in conversation.

“How? And why haven't any of the supes been able to hear him yet?” Cassie asked.

Bart took a pause on his earlier ramblings to make Tim’s life more difficult. “Oh it’s because he’s not breathing. Isn’t that so cool.”

Cassie shot Tim an alarmed look. “He’s a meta.” Tim said off handedly, “Can we focus?”

“Are you aware that your brother might be suffocating to death? In fact, we may need to hide a corpse and I sure as hell would love to hear how you're going to explain that away at family dinner.”

“Oh, don’t worry Danny’s fine.” Bart said flippantly. “Danny, if you can hear us, make the room one degree colder.”

Tim couldn’t feel anything but Kon and Kara did. Kara eyed the room confused about the change but fortunately she didn’t comment on it.

“So cool.” Bart whistled, lapping the room.

“Convinced yet?” Tim asked Cassie.

“He’s an ice meta how- you know what, I don’t want to know. So how are we going to test our warden?”

The lounge room was decorated to look like a regular living room, including hanging “family pictures” on the wall. Everyone on the wall was in costume, for security reasons, but they were actual nice pictures of the team and their mentors. Tim pulled out a batarang from his pocket, and played around with it for a while, talking aloud about random things. It only needed to sound like a real sentence since Kara couldn’t understand what he was saying anyway. Then the batarang “slipped” out of his hand landing right in one of the larger framed pictures. The impact was loud and the glass of the frame shattered and spilled on the floor.

Cassie didn’t have to fake her flinch in surprise at that, turning to Tim alarmed. Tim adding to the performance acted shocked. Kara and Kon obviously hadn’t missed the commotion and their conversation stopped. Kara looked at the destruction of the frame, analyzing Tim and Cassie’s reaction.

“Dude.” Bart turned to him wide-eyed, stopping in his tracks, “We’re so dead.” Kara didn’t speak english, sure, but the dread in Bart’s voice was obvious enough.

“Why did you do that?” Cassie scolded, “That was Red Tornado's favorite.”

Tim held his head in his hands dramatically, then he let realization dawn on his features. Slowly he turned to face Kara. “ I’ll get in really big trouble if Kal-El or anyone finds out. I can hide it, but you won’t tell will you? ” He made himself sound really worried.

“ Won’t it be noticed? The image is large .” Kara asked. She was beginning to share their concern on her face, but that didn’t necessarily mean that she would keep her mouth shut about it.

“ Clean up can. ” Kon said in a reassuring tone. Kara looked at him sideways, clearly confused.

“ They don’t really come in here often so we can pass it off. But you can’t tell. ” Tim told her.

Kara looked like she was having a hard time understanding him as well. An easier time than with Kon for obvious reasons but still not an easy time. Tim couldn’t understand why since he had made sure their Kryptonian was in perfect condition. “ Pass it off? ” She echoed, confused.

Kara must not have understood the phrase.“ Pretend like it didn’t happen .” Tim explained.

She thought about it and nodded. “ An Earth phrase? ”

“ Yes. ”

Kara didn’t answer right away and Tim wasn’t sure if it was because she was still deciphering what he’d said or if she was thinking about telling. “ I will not tell Kal-El or his associates since no one was hurt and it was only a minor incident .” Cassie and Bart had already cleaned up most of the mess why Tim talked to Kara. Tim had made sure to hit the frame so only the glass would be shattered and the actual picture was mostly unharmed except for the small tear in the corner. That would be easy enough to cover up.

Kara's body language was stiff and she was watching everything very carefully. It wasn’t strange since she had been left with a group of strangers in a new environment and she didn’t speak the local language. She seemed around Tim’s age or maybe a little older. Kara was meant to land on Earth with a mission to watch and protect Clark. This implied that she was of a status and position to receive missions. This meant she would work by a set of rules and report to a supervisor. The supervisor was likely Clark who was most likely to take responsibility for her for a variety of reasons.

Cassie gave Tim a raised eyebrow to ask how it was going as she walked away to dispose of the glass shards.

It would be a gamble. A deadly one. But if Tim made it look like Danny being here wasn’t that big of a breach of the rules he could convince her to keep it to herself. He shared a look with Kon.

“ I’m really thankful, Kara. ” Tim says, smiling. He pulls out his phone and texts Cassie and Bart their half of the plan. “ We can show you around the rest of the base. Would you like to do that? ”

“ Okay .”

“ Room fun lounge after work. Play TV on games .” Kon said.

Kara stared at him.

“How about I do the talking?” Tim put a hand on Kon’s shoulder.

“Why? I’m doing so good.” Kon said genuinely. Tim doesn’t respond to that.

The tour lasted minutes and Tim made sure to bide their time well so Cassie, Bart and Danny could be fully settled in before they returned. It would take a while for Danny’s heart rate to return to normal, and it would be better that he was all there before they tried to pull this off.

Tim checked his phone when they were nearing the end of the tour. Cassie had texted him they were good on their end.

“ Let’s go back to meet the others. They don’t speak Kryptonian but we can translate for you so don’t worry. ” Tim said. Kara seemed nice, it was the circumstances that were a bit stressful. But that didn’t mean they should let her feel left out.

“ This is your team ?” Kara asked, following Tim back to the lounge room.

“ Yes we do missions together sometimes. When we’re not working we spend time at the base because we’re friends. ”

“ It is nice to have friends. ” Kara nodded.

“ Did you do missions with your friends on Krypton? ” Tim asked. Maybe he could gauge what her position had been to see how she would react.

“ Only practice. We did not graduate from training yet. ”

“ Going what’s there ?” Kon asked. Tim had no idea what he was saying.

“ What dialect does he speak? ” Kara asked Tim. “ I cannot understand it. ”

“ We learned the same Kryptonian, Kon just doesn’t practice. ” Tim laughed. Kon understood enough that he elbowed him. “ Are there dialects in Kryptonian? ”

“ Many. You and Kal-El speak very… proper. ” She said sheepishly. “ No one speaks that way where I am from. Only in important meetings with outsiders .” Then she paused sadly, “��Mother always said it was important to learn but I did not listen. ” Tim had figured Kara spoke so rigidly because she was nervous or shy. This explained why she was having such a hard time understanding them.

They reached the lounge to Cassie and Danny locked deeply in a game of rock, paper, scissors. Danny had pulled his hood back up and was wearing his cowl from earlier. He had picked one of the older models that covered most of his face until the end of his nose and past his cheekbones. Danny shot scissors at Cassie, beating her paper. Bart cheered loudly, throwing his hands in the air and Cassie groaned in defeat. Danny cackled as he took the last cookie.

“Hey, D. When’d you get here?” Tim asked for the sole purpose of silently telling the others to not call Danny by his real name.

With a mouth full of cookie, “A while ago. Who’s this?” He asked, gesturing his head to Kara.

Tim made wide gestures and spoke clearly in english so Kara could pick up what he was saying. It would be important for her to learn. “This is Kara, she’s Superboy’s cousin.”

“I thought she was his aunt?” Cassie asked.

Danny didn’t look nervous, fortunately, and smiled easily at Kara. Then to Tim’s surprise, “ Nice to meet you. ” he said in perfect kryptonian.

“ He speaks as well. ” Kara commented.

“You can speak Kryptonian, too?” Kon asked.

“Duh.” Bart answered.

“Dead languages are my speciality.” Danny said pointedly. Bart giggled at that.

“ Should we build a hole by playing a game? ” Danny asked, moving on the couch to give everyone else more room.

“ Build a hole? ” Tim laughed, “What?”

Kara looked at Danny surprised, “ You know of that? ” She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

“It’s a phrase, basically like “break the ice’.” Danny answered, then for Bart and Cassie, “Do you guys know any games we can play?”

“ You speak very well .” Kara complimented excitedly, leaving Tim’s side to talk to Danny. “ Did you also learn? ” Meaning is he a native speaker.

“ Kind of? ” He laughed, “ You can speak more comfortably if you’d like. ” He gestures for her to sit.

Kara seems hesitant at first, but then she says something. It sounded Kryptonian but the accent was different to what Tim was used to and he could only make out some of it. To Kara’s delight and Tim’s further surprise Danny not only understood exactly what she’d said but even responded in the same way.

It takes a while for them to settle on a game to play given all the language barriers. Kara spoke in what Tim learned was Standard Kryptonian but would often switch to her local dialect when she didn’t know how to say things. Kon and Tim could only understand Standard, and in all honesty, between them Tim was the only one who could speak it. Bart and Cassie couldn’t speak at all.

They decided to play charades. It was awkward and hard at first, but they all got really into it by the third round. They kept the categories simple since Kara wouldn’t know any movies. Fortunately, she seemed to feel a lot more comfortable and talked a lot more, even if it was mostly just to Danny. There were times she would make an effort to say things in english. It was really broken but they all made sure to appreciate it and tried her best to understand.

“I’m hungry guys.” Cassie said after her turn to act out her word, plopping herself in her spot between Bart and Kon.

“Me too.” Bart agreed mournfully.

“You’re always hungry.”

“Should we order Pizza?” Tim asked, pulling out his phone.

“I want pineapples on mine!” Bart said.

“Ew. No.” Cass kicked him. “I’ll have my usual.” She told Tim.

“Like mushrooms and olives are any better.” Kon snickered.

“It’s better than pineapples.”

Kara looked between them curiously.

“Danny, ask Kara what she wants.” Tim instructed.

After hearing them talk for the last hour Tim had finally been able to pick on some of the words but the grammar of it still eluded him.

“ Everyone, something, something, food. ” Danny said.

Kara looked intrigued, “ What, something, eating, something. ”

“ Something, something, like, something. ” He paused thoughtfully, making a circle in the air presumably to explain what a pizza was. “Something… ” Then, he pulled Tim’s phone to face them and pointed to the picture of a pizza on the website. “ This .”

Kara looked hesitant, “ ...Some…thing? ”

Danny nodded encouragingly, “Something. Something, good.” He said.

Glancing back at the picture, Tim could see on her face that she’d made a decision but she didn’t say anything. “Okay.” She said in english with a nod. “Have.”

“Great!” Finishing it up, “Kon, Bart.” Tim signaled.

“Ugh. Why do we have to get it every time?” Kon complained, throwing a pillow at Tim.

“I’m not going because I was the one that paid for it.”

“I’m not going ‘casue I don’t want to.” Cassie said, kicking her foot onto the coffee table.

“But you were the one who said you wanted food.” Kon complained, already standing up.

“I could go.” Danny offered.

“You're funny. Absolutely not.” Tim shut down.

Kara looked at Danny curious, “ Saying, something, what? ”

“ Something, food, something, go. ”

In english, “...Kitch...en?” She pointed in the direction of it and spoke in Standard Kryptonian, “ Is it not there? ”

“ No. ” Tim shook his head, “ The store cooks it and we just have to give them money and take it from them .” He was careful not to throw in phrases she didn’t know.

Kara looked confused by the concept but accepted it.

“Wait until she finds out about Drive-Thrus.” Danny joked to Tim.

“I’m going to go check on the left-overs.” Cassie said heading to the kitchen.

Tim checked everyone's location on his phone. Danny’s was offline for obvious reasons, fortunately no one had freaked out about it yet. But he couldn’t be too sure. “I’m going to check on our smoke screen in the mission room.” Tim told Danny, “You’ll be okay here with her?”

“What if we get abducted by non-friendly aliens in the five minutes you’ll be gone?” Danny’s tone was serious but his face was mischief.

“I hope you do.” Tim scoffed, walking out.

---

“It’s just one slice, Red.” Danny tried to reach over his shoulder

“No.” Tim blocked his food with his body, “You have your own.”

“I just want to try!”

“No! Eat yours.”

“You let Kara have some!”

“That’s because I like Kara and I don’t like you.”

“But yours looks so much more better than mine.” Danny whined, still reaching.

“Lesson for next time then.”

“C’mon, you’re not even going to finish it.”

Everyone watched them like a sitcom while they got to enjoy their food without meddling siblings. “I will. Just so you can’t have any.” Tim shoved as much of the slice in his mouth as he physically could. He was actually already full.

“You're the worst.” Danny said, shoving Tim.

“And you're worse.” Tim countered, pushing him back.

Tim hadn’t pushed Danny very hard. Danny probably took harder hits during hockey practice. Tim had pushed him just hard enough that it forced Danny to take a step back to balance himself. Which was when he’d stepped on a wrapper Bart had left on the floor. Danny lost his balance and fell. But not before hitting his head hard on the metal fridge door behind him.

Cassie gasped in shock. Kon and Bart rushed over to check on him. Kara watched wide-eyed, not sure what to do.

Tim quickly stepped forward, “Hey, are you-” Next thing he knows there's a whole tube of ranch being squirted on his costume. His freshly washed costume.

Danny watches Tim’s face morph from concern to absolute disgust with a deep satisfaction and cackles like the villain he is.

“You are such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.” Danny’s on his feet and Tim chased him with a packet of garlic sauce that came with the pizza.

Apparently feeling left out, Bart decided to dump his glass of juice all over Kon’s head.

“Dude.” Kon shouts, but he’s quick to retaliate.

“Missed me.” Bart teases using the speed force to dodge.

Cassie and Kara, the only civilized people here, sit and eat their pizzas at the island watching them.

“They’re so dumb.” Cassie says to Kara, exasperated.

Kara smiles following the action with her eyes. “ How fun .” She replies and they share a laugh even without understanding each other.

snipbit from this fic

#dpxdc #danny fenton #danny phantom #batpham #dpxdc fics #regular boy: daniel wayne #danny and tim #tim drake #young justice #red robin #kon el #kara danvers #yjxdp

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srslyblvck · 4 months ago

Text

daddy issues, tony stark [ Part I ]

pairing: tony stark x daughter!reader

synopsis: tony might've been a great superhero but he wasn't a great father.

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k

author's note: whoops, looks like my daddy issues are showing lmao

Part II

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ TONY STARK HAD NEVER been the best father. In fact, most days, it felt like he wasn’t really a father at all. He was a superhero, a genius, a billionaire—but a father? That was something he struggled to figure out. Between saving the world and working on his endless projects, being there for his teenage daughter felt like an afterthought.

But you never blamed him, not really. You cared about him too much to hold a grudge.

Each morning, you would wake up, knowing your father was holed up in his workshop again. He barely came out, always lost in the world of tech and schematics. You'd quietly slip downstairs, make him a cup of coffee just the way he liked it, and head to his workshop.

The metal doors hissed open as you walked in. Tony was hunched over his desk, a dozen holographic blueprints floating in front of him. He didn’t even look up as you placed the coffee on the corner of his table.

"Thanks," he muttered, almost absentmindedly.

"Yeah," you whispered, barely audible. "You're welcome."

You stood there for a second, hoping maybe, just maybe, he'd say something more. Ask how you were doing, maybe even crack one of his sarcastic jokes. But he didn’t. He stayed glued to his work, fingers flying over the holograms.

With a small sigh, you left him to his world, retreating to your room upstairs. It wasn’t that Tony never tried. You knew he did. He just… didn’t know how.

There had been times where Tony made an effort. There was that one night a few months ago when he knocked on your door after midnight. You'd been up late studying for a history test. He walked in, awkwardly holding a pizza box, his eyes red from exhaustion.

"Thought you might be hungry," he said, trying for a smile but failing.

You accepted the pizza, your heart warming for a second. He sat down on your bed, but after a minute of silence, he pulled out his phone, diving into emails and plans for the next suit upgrade.

Eventually, he left without saying much more.

Every night, you'd find him passed out at his desk, surrounded by tech parts and half-finished inventions. Quietly, you'd drape a blanket over his shoulders, making sure he stayed warm in the freezing lab. He never woke up, never noticed, but you kept doing it because… well, someone had to take care of him, right?

The Avengers—Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Bruce—noticed the little things Tony didn’t.

They noticed the way your smile faded when you proudly showed Tony your report card. You’d worked so hard for that A in science, but when you handed him the paper, he barely looked at it.

"Good job, kid," he'd said, sounding robotic.

That was it. No smile, no proud hug. Just a flat, emotionless acknowledgment before he went back to his tech. You smiled weakly, stuffing the report card back into your backpack before retreating to your room.

"Hey," Natasha had said gently as she passed you in the hall. "You're doing great, you know that, right?"

You nodded, forcing another smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

It was the same when you’d asked Tony to come to your school performance. You’d practiced for weeks—every night after finishing homework, every spare moment spent perfecting your lines. You wanted him to be there, to see you, just once.

"Dad, can you come to my play?" you’d asked, heart racing.

"I’m busy, sweetheart. Maybe next time," he'd said, barely glancing up from his project.

You’d nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. There was always a ‘next time’ with Tony. But next time never came.

Steve had been in the living room when you returned home that night. He noticed the tight smile on your face, the way you quickly escaped to your room without saying much. He exchanged a look with Natasha, both of them understanding the weight of Tony’s absence in your life.

You never let them see how much it hurt. That wasn’t your style. Instead, you bottled everything up, shoving your feelings deep inside. Every time Tony brushed you off, every time he missed something important, you just swallowed it down. After all, he was a superhero, right? He was saving the world. There wasn’t time for school plays or report cards.

But sometimes, when it was just you in your room late at night, the weight of it all crashed down. The tears would come, and you’d lock your door, not wanting anyone to see. You’d cry silently, face buried in your pillow, wondering why you weren’t enough for him to care.

Why couldn’t he see you?

There were bad days, too. Days when Tony would snap. He’d yell at you for something small—spilling water on his desk, walking into the workshop without knocking, or accidentally interrupting a call. His voice would rise, frustration boiling over.

"Can’t you see I’m working, Y/N? I don’t have time for this!"

You’d flinch, your heart sinking as he continued to shout. Afterward, he wouldn’t speak to you for days. You’d tiptoe around the tower, avoiding him, the silence between you growing heavier.

You’d lock yourself in your room, feeling the anger and sadness bubbling up. But he never came to apologize, never checked on you. Not once.

Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Bruce saw the cracks. They noticed the way your shoulders slumped a little more each day, how your laughter grew quieter, and how you stopped asking Tony for attention. They didn’t pry—they knew better than to push—but they were there when you needed them.

"Want to train with me?" Natasha would ask, offering a quiet distraction from the heaviness.

Clint would crack jokes, trying to pull a genuine laugh from you.

Bruce would help you with homework, explaining things patiently when you couldn’t focus.

And Steve? Steve would just sit with you sometimes, not saying much, but offering his silent, unwavering support.

They cared. They saw you.

One night, Tony was working late, as always. You slipped into his workshop, a mug of coffee in hand. But this time, instead of leaving it on the table, you stood there, watching him. He was muttering to himself, typing furiously on his holographic keyboard.

You cleared your throat. "Dad?"

He paused, finally looking up at you. There was a tiredness in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. For a moment, he really looked at you—really saw you standing there, holding that cup of coffee like you had a hundred times before.

He blinked, as if suddenly realizing how much time had passed, how distant he had become.

"You need something?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You hesitated, staring down at the coffee in your hands. "No, I just… I just wanted to say goodnight."

Tony swallowed, his throat tightening as he processed your words. He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the coffee mug you held out.

"Goodnight, kid," he murmured, and for the first time in a long time, there was something real in his tone—something almost like regret.

You placed the coffee on his desk and turned to leave, your heart heavy. Maybe one day he’d realize just how much you’d done for him. Maybe one day, he’d see you the way you’d always seen him.

But until then, you’d keep trying. Because that’s what daughters do for their fathers, even when they don’t deserve it.

#tony stark #iron man #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tony stark angst #tony stark x teen!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #iron dad #avengers #avengers x teen!reader #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #angst

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b00tyliciousbabe · 5 months ago

Text

waves

pairing: surfer!bf x THICC!male reader

summary: oh, how i need a tall, curly headed goofball…

notes: HOPE MY LOVELIES ARE DOING WELL. trying to get through my requests, but this was a personal one of mine. slowly but surely y’all! as summer is coming to an end, it was SO necessary for me to feed my hot girl delusions at least a couple more times. also, enjoy the new style i have been experimenting with!

song rec: they. - diamonds and pearls

album rec: sabrina carpenter - short n sweet (my girl sabz ate so hard with this project, i just wish it was released in early aug so she could’ve rly CONQUERED summer 2024) THEE POP PRINCESS!

brief background:

your boyfriend was raised with a silver spoon; he’d never had to work a day in his life and everything he ever wanted, he got. well, everything except you. throwing money to impress people had worked on all of his other childhood crushes, but not you, which made him all the more determined to prove to you he wasn’t just some fuck boi the media painted him out to be. his family owned the richest resort in the carribean, and had hotels in every mega city worldwide. but wherever they travelled to, your man was never too far from a beach. call it fate, but the sea would always lead you back to him. it was where he first laid eyes on you; reading a very lengthy novel as you laid on the sand, watching your friends play in the water. after their surf practice, your mutual friends introduced the two of you and you were SMITTEN - but you couldn’t show your interest too soon. he too was whipped, and didn’t take nearly as much effort to hide it, practically drooling whilst staring at you. his mates would constantly ridicule him for his dazed expression around you, and he could never hear the end of the new nickname ‘bambi boy’ you gave him because he looked so cute when he was flustered. after weeks of regular conversation and a couple walks on the beach, he officially asked to be your boyfriend and you said yes.

when it came to finally introducing you to his family, they loved you almost as much as he did. he was the youngest of six and so he got the privilege of this. his parents especially were wishing y’all would stay together. they believed you were the perfect match for their goofball of a son.

core memory sfw:

the first time he said ‘i love you’ with TRUE meaning; you were always worried that you were just one fuck away from being forgotten, but your man made sure to constantly affirm his love for you. he brought you the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers, and stood outside in the pouring rain, playing a mixtape he’d made for you. it was genuinely a scene out of a film, he was your knight in shining armour (a hawaiian shirt and matching shorts) and it was then that you knew that you guys were endgame.

core memory nsfw:

to say your bf loves your body is an understatement. the way he’s hooked on your body, some might say it’s borderline unhealthy. he’s so handy and keeps his hands on your ass all the time. whether it’s a spank, watching it jiggle as you walk away from him, or a full on grip as his pulls you onto his dick, he’s a man that would gladly die between your cheeks. one time during dinner you wore a wrap skirt paired with a tank top, paired with a thong that was peeping out enough to make your man’s eyes pop out of his head like a cartoon character. as his jaw dropped, practically salivating at the sight of your body moving closer to him, you picked it up and giggled, stroking his chin endearingly. for the entire meal he was practically sat right next to you, breathing in your luscious skin. ‘boy, you better calm down, we have company.’ you giggled. ‘fuck bby, how can you say that when you look good enough for me to eat?’ he whispered into your ear, trying not to bring too much attention. before you knew it you were face down, ass up and your thong was pulled to the side, as he used it as a pseudo leash keeping your pussy bouncing on his cock.

your favourite thing about him: his oddball nature.

as much as it can annoy you that he’s always cracking jokes, leaving no room for respite, your bf never fails to bring joy to your life. as the life of the party he’s always bringing that much needed energy to the dull world of his mostly corporate family. whether it be seeing you hollering at some unhinged thing he’d said, or watching him (ironically) fuck the smile onto your lips, you can tell that comedy is who he is, and you wouldn’t change your weirdo for anything.

his favourite thing about you: how artistic you are.

almost impossibly, it makes your boyfriend fall in love with you even more seeing your creativity flourish. you’re always making him jewellery out of the shells and stones you find. he loves to wear them, it gets you going when you see the necklace you made for him swing back and forth as he fucks into you. or when you feel the cold of his rings and bracelet on your waist as he holds you in position to fuck you even harder. he’s so proud of you.

his insta post: mostly just him showing off his good looks (we love a cocky man around here) and his beach flix.

surfer!bf my face is his favourite seat.

y/n: that big dick is a very close second though.

tinashe replied: @y/n, you a nasty girl fr.

sabrinacarpenter replied: @y/n girl, need you on that bed chem remix. about to do some damage…in a good way x

your insta post: almost always pictures of your creations; you like to keep your relationship with him private, that’s YOUR man, and you can get very possessive.

y/n feel free to add to your pinterest boards.

surfer!bf: baby you’re so talented 🩵

viviennewestwood: so excited to see your next collection!

surfer!bf: i love you.

y/n replied: @surfer!bf aw, i love you too babes!

plans for the future!

being with one of the greatest surfers in the world, definitely came with some amazing perks.

marriage:

oh, he’s 100% thought about it, and would definitely be the one to propose. the free spirit in him doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove that he loves you, truly. But would totally be your husband if you let him x

children:

your surfer!bf ABSOLUTELY WANTS TO HAVE A FAMILY WITH YOU! sees himself as the best father and y’all would have the cutest kids ever.

tag list:

@gayaristocrat

@multireese

@malereadermaniac

@lysanderplume

@ghostking4m

#gay #bottom male reader #smut #gay male #gay reader #male bottom #male x male #gay love #gay smut #male bottom reader #male x male fluff #male reader #bottom reader

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theemporium · 6 months ago

Note

number 13 💚 for landoscar!! thank you 🫶🏻

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

13. “Oh, so they are just a friend, right? That’s what you’re telling me?”

You and Lando were doing your best to keep your thoughts to yourself, but it was hard to do when both of you wore your hearts on your sleeves.

And your emotions very clearly across your face.

Being a little bit younger meant that Oscar was amongst a different group of drivers and colleagues in his younger years, in Formula Two and Formula Three. He had previous teammates he still kept in contact with, old friends from Australia that he made an effort to always catch up with. Oscar had a whole life outside of you both, and you knew that.

It was different compared to you and Lando, whose lives are so intertwined and connected that there were rarely strangers in each other’s lives.

But that is exactly what it was like with Oscar.

And it was never a problem, not really. You and Lando loved meeting people that played such big parts in Oscar’s life, people that were important to him, people that he wanted to share with you two. It was a pivotal part of the relationship between the three of you and it was hard not to find it endearing.

Except, you were pretty fucking sure this old friend of Oscar’s was in love with him and it felt like a bitter slap in the face to watch him shamelessly flirt away with your boyfriend in front of you both.

“He’s not even trying to hide it,” Lando grumbled as the two of you stuck to his side of the garage, watching Oscar and his old friend chat away on the other side. “He’s acting like Osc is fucking single and free reign from him.”

“Maybe we are overthinking it,” you supplied, but it sounded weak even to your own ears.

Lando shot you a look. “If Oscar gave him the green light, they’d be shagging in front of everyone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now that is a bit dramatic.”

“Still,” Lando huffed, his lips turning downwards. “I don’t like him.”

“Neither do I,” you murmured, leaning against your boyfriend’s arm and squishing your cheek against his shoulder. “At least he is only here for the weekend.”

Lando’s nose scrunched up. “Still too long.”

“Too long for what?” Oscar asked, suddenly appearing beside you both with a soft smile on his face.

Your cheeks burned but you didn’t glance at Lando as you replied. “Nothing, just some game he’s excited to play with Max.”

Oscar’s brows raised in interest. “Yeah? What game?”

“One you’ve never heard of,” Lando quickly scrambled out before changing the subject. “So, where’s Harry?”

“Uh,” Oscar gave you both a weird look but replied nonetheless. “He went to the bathroom. What do you two think of him?”

“He’s nice,” you replied vaguely.

Oscar frowned a little. “You don’t like him?”

“No, no,” you quickly reassured the boy. “He does seem really nice.”

“Would be much nicer if he wasn’t trying to shag you though,” Lando grumbled under his breath, but Oscar heard him well enough.

Oscar snorted, looking a little confused. “Harry? With me? Not a chance, he’s my friend.”

“Oh, so they are just a friend, right? That’s what you’re telling me?” Lando bit out, the jealousy loud and clear to your boyfriend now. “So the blatant staring and giggling and constantly touching you means nothing?”

And if it were anyone else, they would have gotten defensive. Or angry. Or just as snappy back. But this was Oscar and that wasn’t how he was. And that was not how he dealt with Lando either.

Instead, the boy stepped forward and took Lando’s face in his hands, watching as the boy sunk into the touch. “He’s just a friend,” Oscar murmured. “And even if Harry did feel that way about me, I wouldn’t care. Because I have you two and that’s more than enough for me.”

Lando sniffled a little. “Promise?”

“Promise, baby,” Oscar grinend, leaning in to kiss him and doing the same with you before he pulled away. “I’m your boyfriend, not his.”

Lando puffed his chest out a little. “Damn right you are, Osc.”

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apollogeticx · 5 months ago

Text

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ DUMB & POETIC ♡·˚

— [♡] ; you sprouted love like flowers, growing a garden in your mind and watering the petals with every unshed tear. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: hanahaki disease, fem!reader, fluff, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional growth, vulnerable gojo satoru, recovered feelings, love after trauma, reconciliation, slow healing, happy ending, chapter two of four!

wc. 6.1K

↳ part 1 | part 3 [soon!]

Gojo’s newfound resolve was suffocating. The moment he realized the truth—that you were suffering, that you had been wilting away in silence—something inside him had shifted. He couldn’t let it go. His usual carefree attitude was gone, replaced with an intensity that left you exhausted beyond words. Every time he saw you now, he was right there—checking on you, offering his help, making sure you weren’t fading into the background anymore.

But you were tired. So tired.

You had spent so long trying to keep your head down, to hide the growing petals and the blood that came with every cough, that his sudden attention felt like too much. It was overwhelming. His presence, once something you had longed for in silence, now felt heavy, a constant reminder of how far gone you were.

After your confession, Gojo had made it clear that he wasn’t going to stand by and let you wither away. He was determined to help, to fix things, even though he didn’t know how. But that resolve, that fierce energy that he always carried, only served to remind you of how out of place you felt in his world.

Gojo was a powerhouse, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could bend the very fabric of the world to his will. He was confident, capable, and surrounded by students with talents that could rival his own in time. Yuji, Megumi, Nobara—they all had bright futures, their potential limitless. And then there was you: lungs full of blood and flowers, a cursed technique that barely registered on anyone’s radar. You had never stood a chance of catching his attention before, and now that you had, it was because you were slowly dying.

You made your way back to your room, each step heavier than the last. Your body ached with fatigue, the constant strain of the hanahaki weighing you down. The tissue box was empty, and you knew you would have to ask Shoko for more supplies soon, but even that felt like too much effort.

All you wanted to do was lie down in the dark and disappear for a while.

When you finally reached your room, you shut the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment as you let out a shaky breath. The air felt thick, your chest constricting with the familiar tightness that signaled another coughing fit. You swallowed hard, willing the flowers to stay buried for now. You couldn’t deal with another fit, not right now.

The room was dark, the curtains drawn to keep out the harsh light of the afternoon sun. It was a small comfort, the darkness wrapping around you like a blanket as you made your way to the bed. You didn’t bother turning on the lights. You didn’t need them. All you wanted was to rest, to escape the relentless exhaustion that had become your constant companion.

As you lay down, sinking into the worn-out mattress, the silence of the room pressed in on you. For a moment, you allowed yourself to breathe, to close your eyes and pretend that everything wasn’t falling apart. But the pain in your chest wouldn’t let you forget. The flowers were still there, growing larger with each passing day, their roots winding through your lungs, cracking your bones and choking the life out of you bit by bit.

Gojo’s attention, his concern—it was supposed to help. He had hoped it would help. Maybe he thought that by staying close, by showing you that you weren’t alone, he could somehow stop the disease from progressing. But no amount of resolve could stop the petals from blooming. No amount of determination could fix what was happening inside of you.

And deep down, you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t belong in his world. Gojo was larger than life, a figure of strength and power, while you were fading away. Even now, with his attention fully on you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were out of place. That no matter how hard he tried, nothing could change the fact that you were weak.

The tears came unbidden, slipping down your cheeks as you lay there, curled up in the darkness. You pressed a hand to your chest, feeling the familiar tightness as the flowers bloomed again, but this time, you didn’t fight it. You let the petals come, the blood staining your lips as they fluttered out, beautiful and deadly.

You had wanted Gojo’s attention for so long. You had dreamt of him noticing you, of him seeing you the way he saw the others. But now that he had, it only served to highlight the gap between you—the gulf that separated your fragile existence from his unstoppable strength.

As another coughing fit wracked your body, you buried your face in the pillow, the sound muffled but still too loud in the quiet of the room. The petals, soft and cerulean, fell onto the bedspread, a cruel reminder of the love you could never express. You wiped at your mouth, the blood mixing with the tears as you struggled to catch your breath.

Gojo was trying to help, but you were too far gone.

You curled tighter into yourself, your breath shallow as you closed your eyes and let the darkness take you. All you could do was hope that, for a little while, the world would leave you alone.

The past few days had been especially brutal—nosebleeds every time you so much as raised your head, petals blooming with every shallow breath. Your body had begun to reject even the most basic movements, leaving you bedridden, trapped in the darkness of your tiny dorm room.

You hadn’t gone to class in two days. The mere thought of leaving your bed felt impossible, the effort it took to even sit up leaving you dizzy and coughing up more blood than ever before. Your assignments, your studies—all of it had slipped away, fading into the background as you struggled just to survive the onslaught of pain and exhaustion.

The worst part wasn’t even the physical toll. It was the isolation.

You had cut yourself off completely, hiding away from the world and everyone in it, hoping that if you stayed quiet enough, no one would notice. But deep down, you knew that Gojo had been watching, keeping an eye on you even as you disappeared from his class. It was only a matter of time before he came looking for you.

It happened on the third day.

You were lying in bed, the covers pulled up around you despite the suffocating heat of the room. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, plunging the space into a dim, shadowy haze. The air was thick with the scent of blood and petals, a sickly sweetness that clung to everything. The tissue box beside your bed was nearly empty again, tissues scattered across the floor, stained with red and blue – turning almost a slickly hollow purple.

You hadn’t bothered getting up that day. Every time you tried, your head spun, and your vision blurred with the strain of another coughing fit. It was easier to stay still, to let the darkness wrap around you and pretend, for just a moment, that the world outside didn’t exist.

But then, you heard it—a knock at the door. It was soft at first, hesitant, but unmistakable.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your throat was too raw, your chest too tight with the ever-present flowers, their roots winding deeper into your lungs with every passing minute.

The knock came again, louder this time, followed by the unmistakable sound of Gojo’s voice. “Hey… you in there?”

Your heart sank. Of course, it was him. Of course, he had tracked your dorm room down.

When you didn’t respond, the door creaked open, and Gojo stepped inside. The sight of him, standing in the doorway of your tiny, dark dorm room, was almost surreal. He looked completely out of place, his tall frame too large for the cramped, messy space. His usual bright, confident energy seemed dulled by the atmosphere of the room, as if the darkness had reached out and swallowed him whole.

For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the scene before him—your rumpled bed, the scattered tissues, the bloodstained pillows. His blindfold-covered eyes scanned the room, his expression unreadable, but there was a heaviness in his posture that you hadn’t seen before.

You tried to sit up, but the effort sent a wave of dizziness crashing over you, and you collapsed back onto the mattress, your chest tightening painfully. Another petal slipped from your lips, landing softly on the sheets.

Gojo’s expression shifted, and in an instant, he was beside you, his presence filling the space around your bed. “You weren’t in class,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “Two days.”

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Your throat burned, and all you could manage was a weak cough, more petals spilling from your mouth as you pressed a tissue to your lips.

Gojo’s hand hovered near your shoulder, hesitating before he placed it gently on the edge of your bed. “You should’ve told me,” he said, his voice strained. “I would’ve—” He stopped, his sentence hanging in the air, unfinished.

It was almost funny, how out of place he looked in your dorm. Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the man who could command any room, now standing awkwardly in your dark, messy space, his usual confidence dimmed by the sheer weight of the situation.

“You’re really out of your element here, Gojo-sensei,” you rasped, the words barely audible as you tried to laugh, but the sound came out more like a wheeze.

Gojo’s lips quirked up into a faint, sad smile, but you knew his eyes—hidden behind his blindfold—didn’t reflect the usual lightness they held. “Yeah, well,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed, “you’re not making this easy.”

You let out a small, bitter chuckle, though it quickly turned into another cough, your hand trembling as you held the tissue to your mouth. “Nothing about this is easy,” you muttered.

Gojo’s hand shifted, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out to help, but he didn’t. Instead, he just sat there, his presence oddly quiet, his usual bravado tempered by the reality of what he was seeing.

“You didn’t have to come,” you said after a moment, your voice soft, barely more than a whisper. “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

Gojo’s jaw tightened, and he shook his head slightly. “Too bad,” he replied, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

You swallowed hard, feeling another wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Why?” you asked, your voice barely audible. “Why do you care so much now?”

Gojo was silent for a moment, as if considering his answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “Because I should’ve been paying attention a long time ago,” he admitted. “I should’ve noticed you sooner.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his words. For so long, you had convinced yourself that you were invisible to him, that your presence in his class didn’t matter. But now, sitting here in your dark, messy room, it was clear that Gojo had noticed more than you realized.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “You have so much on your plate already.”

Gojo’s lips pressed into a thin line, and he leaned forward slightly, his hand finally reaching out to gently touch your arm. “You’re not a burden,” he said, his voice steady, but the emotion behind his words was undeniable. “You’re one of my students. I’m supposed to look out for you.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you like a heavy blanket. For so long, you had felt like an outsider, like your existence didn’t matter. But in this moment, with Gojo sitting beside you, his presence quiet and unwavering, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as invisible as you thought.

But even so, the flowers continued to bloom, their roots winding deeper into your lungs, and you knew that Gojo’s attention, his resolve, wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Gojo’s presence in the room felt like an anchor, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. But even as his hand rested gently on your arm, his words filled with a kind of determination you hadn’t heard before, a harsh truth settled deep in your bones: no matter what he said, no matter how fiercely he tried to look after you now, it wouldn’t change the course of your imminent death.

You opened your eyes, staring at the ceiling, the familiar ache in your chest pulsing with every shallow breath. The petals inside you weren’t just blooming—they were taking over, suffocating you from the inside out. Gojo’s concern, his guilt, his newfound attention—it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t stop the inevitable.

“It’s too bad,” you muttered, your voice raw, barely more than a breath. “Looking out for me now isn’t going to change anything.”

Gojo froze beside you, his hand still resting on your arm, though the warmth of his touch felt distant. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, but you could feel the weight of his silence, the way his usually unshakable confidence faltered in the face of something he couldn’t fight, couldn’t fix.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost pleading. “I’m not giving up on you.”

You let out a soft, bitter laugh, the sound catching in your throat as another petal forced its way up, followed by a trickle of blood that stained your lips. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t give up,” you rasped, your breath uneven as you wiped the blood away with the back of your hand. “It’s too late, Gojo.”

He was quiet again, the tension in the room thickening as you both sat in the suffocating darkness. You could feel the weight of his frustration, the way his fingers tightened slightly against your arm, as if holding onto you harder could somehow stop what was happening. But nothing could stop the flowers now. Nothing could stop the hanahaki from claiming you, piece by piece.

Gojo finally spoke, his voice strained, like he was fighting to keep his usual bravado from slipping completely. “It’s not too late,” he said, but there was something hollow in the way he said it, like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince you. “There has to be something we can do.”

You turned your head slightly to look at him, the exhaustion heavy in your limbs. The sight of Gojo—normally so composed, so sure of himself—looking utterly lost in your tiny, dimly lit room, was almost tragic. His blindfold hid his eyes, but you could see the tension in his face, the way his jaw clenched, his lips pressed tightly together. This was the strongest sorcerer in the world, and yet here, in this moment, even he couldn’t stop the inevitable.

“I appreciate it,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “but you can’t fix this.”

His fingers twitched against your arm, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. But instead, he let out a slow, controlled breath, his hand slipping from your arm to his lap as he leaned back slightly, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost broken.

You shook your head weakly, the effort taking more out of you than it should have. “Because what would it change?” you replied, your tone resigned. “I’m just another student, Gojo. Telling you wouldn’t have stopped this.”

Gojo’s head snapped toward you, his expression hardening at your words. “You’re not just another student,” he said sharply, his voice thick with frustration. “You never were.”

You closed your eyes again, the heaviness in your chest making it difficult to speak, let alone process his words. “Maybe not to you now,” you muttered, “but you didn’t notice me before. And now that you do… it’s too late.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. Gojo didn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you thought he might leave, might give up on this impossible situation. But then, his voice broke through the darkness, softer this time, almost fragile.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

You opened your eyes, surprised at the rawness in his tone. It was rare to hear Gojo like this—stripped of his usual confidence, his playful charm, and his endless bravado. He sounded… human. Vulnerable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner,” he continued, his voice low, barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing. “I should’ve been paying attention. I should’ve—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, shaking your head as much as your weak body would allow. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”

Gojo’s hand tightened into a fist, his knuckles white against the fabric of his pants. “How can I not?” he asked, his voice thick with guilt. “You’re my student. I’m supposed to protect you. And I didn’t.”

The air in the room felt heavy, oppressive, as you lay there in the silence that followed. You understood where his guilt came from, but it didn’t change the reality of the situation. Gojo couldn’t fix this. No one could.

“Maybe… maybe I don’t want to be saved,” you whispered, the truth of your words sinking in even as you said them. “I’ve lived with this for so long, and now… I’m just tired.”

Gojo didn’t respond right away, but the tension in his body told you how much your words affected him. He wasn’t used to losing, especially not like this—helpless, unable to fight back.

“I’m not giving up on you,” he said again, but this time, the desperation in his voice was clear. He wasn’t just saying it for you—he was saying it for himself. Trying to hold on to something, anything, that would make this feel less final.

You closed your eyes again, the exhaustion weighing down on you like a blanket. “You don’t have to give up,” you murmured. “But it doesn’t change the fact that… I’m already slipping away.”

In the darkness of your room, with the scent of blood and petals filling the air, the truth became impossible to ignore. Even Gojo, with all his power and resolve, couldn’t save you from this.

And somehow, in that moment, you were okay with that.

The silence between you and Gojo hung heavy in the room. You could feel the weight of his presence beside you, but it offered no comfort, only a reminder of the widening gap between what could be and what was. You knew he was desperate to help, but even he, the strongest sorcerer, couldn't stop what was happening inside you.

The thought stirred something inside you—curiosity, maybe desperation of your own. You turned your head slowly to look at him, eyes half-lidded, your voice hoarse and broken as you spoke.

"Can you see it?" you asked, your words barely more than a breath, your throat raw from the constant coughing. "With your Six Eyes?"

Gojo's posture stiffened slightly, but you could feel the shift in his energy. The question hung in the air, thick with meaning. You knew that his Six Eyes gave him extraordinary perception, allowed him to see cursed energy and details others couldn't possibly comprehend. But you wondered—could he see the flowers inside of you? Could he see the petals twisting around your lungs, choking the life out of you, piece by piece - if he tried?

For a moment, he didn’t answer. The silence stretched on, and you could feel the weight of his hesitation. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet, almost fragile. “Yes.”

The word lingered in the air, a confirmation that sent a chill through you.

Gojo didn’t elaborate, but you didn’t need him to. You could picture it now—his Six Eyes, usually so sharp and all-seeing, watching the cursed energy inside of you twist and knot around the blooming flowers. You wondered if it looked as beautiful as it felt tragic. Did he see the delicate petals weaving through your body, tainted with blood and despair? Did the flowers glow in his vision, vibrant but deadly, a curse of unrequited love made visible through the lens of his extraordinary power?

“Tell me what you see,” you whispered, unsure why you even wanted to know. Maybe because it felt like the only way to truly confront the reality of your condition, to hear from him just how deep the curse ran.

Gojo was silent for a long moment, his hand resting loosely on his knee, fingers twitching slightly as though he were struggling with how to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it, almost reverent.

“I see… cursed energy wrapped around you, tightening,” he said slowly, as if each word was pulled from him against his will. “It’s like… roots, tangled and twisting, wrapped around your lungs. They’re… beautiful, but they’re suffocating you.”

Your breath hitched in your chest at his words. Beautiful but suffocating. That was exactly how it felt—both physically and emotionally. This disease, born of your unspoken feelings for him, was devastatingly beautiful in its way. The petals were lovely, but their bloom came at the cost of your life.

Gojo leaned forward, his voice more strained now. “The flowers… they’re cursed energy, too, aren’t they? Your emotions, your love… they’ve turned into something I can see. Something I can’t stop.”

You blinked back tears, the weight of his words pressing down on you. You didn’t need to look at him to know the helplessness that now filled his expression. Gojo was someone who was never helpless, someone who could bend the world to his will, yet here he was, unable to stop the flowers from blooming, unable to stop your slow descent.

“They’re… suffocating me,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Even you… can’t stop them.”

Gojo was silent, his hand gripping the edge of your bed as if that could steady him. For the first time since you had known him, he seemed lost. There was no easy solution, no power he could wield to fix this. All he could do was watch—watch as the flowers continued to bloom, watch as your life slipped away before his very eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Again.

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creep up on you again. “Don’t be,” you muttered, your voice fading as sleep pulled you under. “Just… stay.”

For once, Gojo didn’t argue. He stayed. And for a moment, in the suffocating darkness of your dorm room, with the flowers blooming inside you, it was enough.

You lay there, exhausted, your body worn from the endless cycle of coughing and pain. Gojo sat beside you, quieter than you had ever seen him. His usual boundless energy was gone, replaced by something darker, more solemn. He had seen the flowers—seen them with his Six Eyes—and now, for the first time, he truly understood the depth of what you were facing.

But even his understanding didn’t change the reality. You were dying. Slowly, but surely.

The soft sound of footsteps broke through the silence, and you turned your head slightly as Shoko stepped into the room. Her expression was unreadable, a mix of exhaustion and something else you couldn’t quite place. She carried the air of someone who had been wrestling with a difficult decision, and the moment she walked in, you knew she had something important to say.

Gojo straightened slightly as she entered, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched her, his blindfold still in place, though you could feel the weight of his focus shifting between you and Shoko.

“Hey,” she greeted softly, glancing between the two of you. She moved to the foot of your bed, crossing her arms over her chest as she took in the state of the room—of you.

You tried to sit up, but your body betrayed you, weak and uncooperative. Shoko’s gaze softened as she saw you struggle, and she moved closer, her eyes serious but compassionate.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, her voice calm and measured. “About your condition. About the hanahaki.”

You felt a tightness in your chest at her words. You knew what she was about to say. You had been avoiding this conversation for as long as you could, but it was inevitable.

“There’s a surgery,” she continued, her voice steady. “We can remove the flowers, the roots, everything. It’s the only way to stop the disease from progressing.”

You glanced at Gojo, but he remained silent, his expression tense. Shoko’s words hung in the air like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that had consumed you. But you knew the cost of that surgery.

Shoko’s eyes flickered to Gojo for a moment before settling back on you. She hesitated, then spoke quietly. “But… the surgery will take away your feelings. Your love for him.”

The room felt impossibly still, the weight of her words crashing down around you. You had known this was coming, but hearing it out loud made it real in a way you weren’t prepared for. The flowers would be gone—the pain, the coughing, the blood—but so would your love for Gojo. That deep, unspoken feeling that had been a part of you for so long, the very thing that had caused this disease, would be erased.

You looked up at Shoko, your throat tight, your voice barely a whisper. “So… I’d stop loving him?”

Shoko nodded, her gaze softening with understanding. “Yes,” she said gently. “The feelings that caused the hanahaki would be removed. It’s the only way to save you.”

Gojo shifted beside you, and you could feel the tension radiating from him, though he still didn’t say anything. His silence was deafening, and it made the decision feel even more impossible.

You turned your head to look at him, searching his face for some kind of answer, some kind of guidance. But all you saw was the same confusion and helplessness that you felt. This wasn’t something his power could fix. This wasn’t something that could be fought or defeated.

The choice was yours.

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, your mind reeling. Could you really give it up? Could you let go of the love you had held onto for so long, even though it had been one-sided? The thought of not loving Gojo anymore, of not feeling the warmth and the ache that came with caring for him, left a hollow ache in your chest. But the alternative—letting the flowers bloom until they consumed you completely—was a death sentence.

“I don’t want to stop loving him,” you whispered, the words trembling as they left your lips.

Gojo’s head snapped toward you, his expression tightening. You couldn’t see his eyes behind the blindfold, but you could feel his shock, his hesitation. He hadn’t known, not fully, just how much you had held inside. But now, with Shoko standing here offering you a chance to live—a chance to erase the very thing that had been killing you—he knew.

“Don’t…” Gojo’s voice was low, strained, as if he was grappling with what to say. “Don’t do this for me.”

You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, though the blindfold hid his eyes. “It’s not about you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “It’s about… me. It’s about what I’m willing to lose to keep going.”

Gojo flinched, and you saw the way his fingers tightened into fists, his jaw clenched. He wanted to say something, to stop you, but he knew he couldn’t. This was a decision only you could make.

Shoko stepped closer, her expression compassionate but firm. “It’s your choice,” she said quietly. “But if you don’t do the surgery soon, there won’t be another option.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a heavy fog. If you chose the surgery, you could live—but you would lose the most important part of yourself. If you refused, the flowers would take you, slowly but surely, until there was nothing left.

“I don’t want to lose this,” you said again, your voice trembling. “Even if it hurts. Even if it’s killing me.”

Gojo’s hand finally reached for yours, his fingers brushing against your cold skin. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet, almost pleading. “I don’t want you to die.”

You closed your eyes, the tears falling freely now. The choice was in front of you, clear and unforgiving.

Save yourself, but lose him.

Or love him, and let the flowers take you.

You had never felt so lost.

Shoko had been quiet after your initial resistance, but her eyes were filled with a kind of quiet understanding that unnerved you. She had known all along that this decision would tear you apart. Even now, with Gojo sitting silently at your bedside, his hand gently wrapped around yours, you could feel the weight of the decision looming over all of you.

But in the days that followed, as Gojo was called away on a mission—one he couldn’t refuse—the decision became clearer. The pain was getting worse. You could hardly get out of bed without collapsing into a fit of coughing, petals spilling from your lips more violently than ever before. Every breath felt like a battle, and every time you blinked, the world around you seemed to fade just a little more.

Shoko visited frequently. Each time she came, she brought more supplies, more medications to dull the pain, but her eyes always carried the same question: When will you decide?

And finally, after a particularly brutal day when you could hardly move from bed, your body weak and ravaged by the flowers, Shoko had sat down beside you, her voice firm yet compassionate.

“You’re dying,” she said plainly. “And I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. If you keep waiting, if you don’t do something… it’s going to be too late.”

You had closed your eyes, her words echoing in your mind. You didn’t want to stop loving Gojo. You didn’t want to lose that part of yourself, even if it was killing you. But the reality was becoming impossible to ignore.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t want to forget him.”

Shoko placed a hand on your arm, her touch gentle but steady. “I know. But Gojo doesn’t want you to die. You don’t deserve to die for this.”

Her words hit you like a wave, crashing against the walls you had built around yourself. You were so tired—tired of the pain, the suffocation, the slow withering away of your body. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to survive this. Maybe it was time to let go.

Shoko leaned in closer, her voice soft but insistent. “You deserve to live, even if it means you have to forget.”

The decision, when you finally made it, felt like it wasn’t entirely yours. It felt like giving up. But you agreed. You agreed to the surgery while Gojo was away, telling yourself that it was for the best. He wouldn’t be there to see you go through with it, to watch you lose the love that had been driving you toward death. He would never have to know how hard it had been for you to let go of him.

The surgery came faster than you expected. Shoko was efficient, as always, and her team worked in the clinical, detached way that was necessary for something like this. You felt numb, even before the anesthesia kicked in. The thought of losing the flowers—the flowers that represented your love for Gojo—was a strange, hollow feeling. You had grown accustomed to the weight of them inside you, even as they destroyed you.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the absence of pain. No more tightness in your chest, no more blood, no more petals. Just… silence.

But along with that silence came something else. The overwhelming emptiness where your feelings for Gojo had been. The love you had carried for him, the very thing that had once consumed you, was gone. Erased. You knew it intellectually, but you couldn’t feel it anymore. It was like staring at a memory that had faded beyond recognition. The edges were still there, but the warmth was gone, and the ache that once defined your every waking moment had vanished.

You were free—but at what cost?

It was a few days later when Gojo returned from his mission. You had been resting, trying to adjust to the strange new quietness inside your heart, when the door to your room swung open. Gojo stepped in, his usual lightness dimmed by the weight of the situation.

He had rushed back, that much was clear. His blindfold was slightly askew, his hair disheveled, and there was an urgency in the way he moved as he approached your bed.

“Hey, kid,” he said softly, sitting on the edge of your bed, his voice more tentative than you’d ever heard it. “I came as soon as I could.”

You looked up at him, feeling… disconnected. He was still Gojo. Still the same person who had sat by your side, trying to comfort you, trying to save you. But something was different now. He seemed so far away, like a figure from a dream you couldn’t quite grasp.

“I had the surgery,” you said quietly, your voice steady. You were surprised by how calm you felt.

Gojo blinked, his expression shifting, though it was hard to read behind his blindfold. “I know,” he said softly, his voice laced with something that sounded almost like regret. “Shoko told me.”

There was a pause, a long, uncomfortable silence as the two of you sat there. You knew what he was going to ask. He had to ask, even though you knew the answer.

“Do you… still feel the same?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “About me?”

You looked away, your heart heavy, though not in the way it had been before. There was no pain, no aching love suffocating you. Just the quiet, empty truth.

“No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I don’t. I don’t feel anything for you anymore.”

Gojo didn’t move for a moment. The weight of your words seemed to hang between you, thick and final. He sat there, staring at you, though you couldn’t see his eyes. You could feel the tension in his body, the realization that something irrevocable had changed.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice tight, though he tried to hide it behind his usual facade. But the cracks were there, small and painful.

You felt like you should have said something more, but there was nothing left to say. You had made your choice, and now you had to live with it. Gojo, too, would have to live with the knowledge that you had loved him once, deeply, but now, it was gone.

He stood slowly, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach his usual brightness. “Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, his voice light but strained. “That’s what matters.”

You nodded, watching as he turned to leave. But before he walked out the door, he paused, his hand resting on the frame.

“I’ll still be around,” he said, quieter now, almost to himself. “If you need anything.”

And then he was gone.

The room felt emptier than before, and though the flowers were gone from your lungs, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious had been lost in their place.

notes: I tried to keep your cursed technique vague so y'all can pick whatever it is - If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know <3

tag list: @lily-of-my-dreams @sunnyx07 @3zae-zae3 @sashisuslover @kingshitonly @bvuckleybby @laviefantasie

#— [♡] by gigi #jjk #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk oneshot #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo oneshot #jujutsu kaisen

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 7 months ago

Text

[9:16 am]

(cw: course language)

Dating Jeno was like a dream. You knew it was early, 2 months to be exact, but you were fairly certain he was the best man ever. He was sweet, thoughtful, he listened, he was funny, and he was handsome. He took you on dates that you could tell he put effort into, he gave you gifts just because he was “thinking about you,” and got you flowers weekly. What wasn’t to like about him?

You had just seen him the night before, he had invited you over to his so he could cook for you. His excuse was that he’d been wanting to try out a recipe, but it was too much for one person. He’d listened to you talk all night about your annoying boss and how she went on and on about anything under the sun. She made it impossible to make or take calls with her roaming the floor and talking. She tried too hard to be friends with her employees.

He had had glimpses of her before when he came by to pick you up for lunch or picked you up from work. She was always the first one to the door, twirling her hair and batting her lashes. She tried flirting and didn’t even try to hide her frown when he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek.

“And I saw that little boy toy of yours yesterday! He was out and about during lunch yesterday and we had lunch together! You’re not mad right? According to what I’ve heard he’s not your boyfriend yet…” you heard her annoying voice, but she wasn’t talking to you, right?

You turned in your desk chair, “are you talking to me?”

“Yes! Jeno, your little boy toy! He’s a real cutie, a real gentleman. I can totally see what’s so attractive about him. We sat and talked together and got carried away. I was almost late,” she laughs.

You give her a fake laugh, claiming you have work to get back to while turning to face the computer screen. Instead of working, you mull over her words. On one hand yes, you and Jeno weren’t official or exclusive in the fact that you hadn’t discussed it, but you had assumed you were. There was also the fact that when you asked him about his lunch he had been very short and moved on as if it were nothing.

Had there been signs that you missed before? Were there moments that they shared when you weren’t around? Were there hidden moments? God, this was putting you in a downward spiral.

She was still stood near you when you heard an unfamiliar male voice. “Uhhhh, flowers from Jeno?” He asked.

As you moved to identify yourself, your boss squealed, reaching for the flowers. She pulled the card from bouquet and began to read out loud, “I had the greatest time seeing you yesterday. I can’t wait to spend more time with you. Love, Jeno. He’s so sweet! So sorry you had to find out this way, but I need to go put these in some light. Get back to work.”

The rest of your day was awful. Maybe he had sent those to her. Maybe he liked her more than you. Maybe he was two-timing you.

From there your anger grew and grew. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard. His texts made your anger boil and bubble inside you to the point where once you saw him standing alone in the lobby of your workplace you walked right past him.

“Hey! Wait- hey, where are you going?” You heard Jeno’s voice as he followed after you.

You turned, your voice cold while your emotions were heated, “if you liked my boss you could have just said that instead of stringing me along. I know we never talked about being closed off, but at the very least I deserved to know you were seeing another person inside my office!”

He held his hands up, as if in surrender, “I don’t- I’m not seeing anyone but you. Can we talk about this?”

You groaned, running a had over your hair in frustration. You exhaled, calming your feelings, “my boss came in this morning and told me that you guys had lunch together. That you were such a gentleman and she totally gets what I see in you and that you spent the whole lunch talking and getting to know each other.” Your voice breaks as you keep explaining, “and then flowers were delivered that said you enjoyed your time with her yesterday. It’s just- I wish you had just told me.” You loon away from him as your eyes fill with tears and you desperately try to blink them back.

Jeno gives you your time to breathe and cool off before he speaks. “Babe, I didn’t get lunch with your boss. I happened to be at the same spot for lunch to pick up my order and while I was leaving she walked in. We did that whole awkward stepping the same way over and over again, and I greeted her just to be polite. I asked her how she was, but I didn’t have lunch with her. I don’t like her, she makes me feel weird and gross when she talks to me and I think she’s the same age as my mom, that or she has really bad work done.” You laugh at that and he smiles explaining even more, “the flowers were for you, babe. I have the receipt, it has your name on it as the recipient. They were supposed to be your weekly bouquet and that’s why the note says what it said. I don’t want to spend time getting to know anyone but you.”

“God, I hate that bitch. I’m sorry I assumed,” you exhale deeply, feeling an immense weight off your shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug, rubbing a hand up and down your back, “it was an unfortunate mess of coincidences mixed with delusion from your crazy ass boss. It’s the last time I’ll use a delivery service too, all your flowers are coming right from me.”

“You still want me after I made that horrible assumption?” You ask with a playful tone, but the nerves in your stomach have yet to calm down.

Jeno smirks, tsking nonchalantly, “if anything, I want you more. Something about you getting jealous, a little possessive, that’s hot.”

You shove him lightly, leaving him behind as you begin walking home again. You can hear him laughing and his steps as he runs to catch up to you. His arm wraps around your shoulders and he presses a kiss to your temple while you both dodge the other people trying to get home. He takes your bag off your shoulder and smiles at you warmly, “I didn’t think we really had to talk about it, but in all seriousness I do like you a lot. I don’t want to see anyone but you.”

“I like you a lot too,” you smile back, “so what? You’re like my boyfriend now?”

“Nothing would make me happier, and you should report your boss to HR. She’s a total bitch.”

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #jeno imagines #jeno x reader #jeno fluff #jeno drabbles #jeno timestamps

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absolute-flaming-trash · 11 months ago

Text

Pairing: Yandere!Alastor x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 2'627

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, Implied forced relationship, Implied captivity, Toxic relationship, Possessiveness, Invasion of personal space, Non-consensual touching.

Additional Notes: Do be kind, I have not written for this man before and find him exceedingly difficult.

Every week at the Hotel, there was something new Charlie had planned.

Trust exercises. Ice breakers. Activities meant to bring everybody closer together as a group. To try and get people to open up and show a side of vulnerability that - she believed - would help sinners take one step closer to salvation.

Most of them were awkward, and a lot of them never went as planned. A fact she realized and, after a near mental breakdown, had her promptly take advice from Vaggie and agree to try something different.

The task was very simple compared to the previous activities. She requested everybody to think about redemption and what it meant to them.

Thinking about the definition itself took little to no effort.

Redemption (noun): The action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil.

But it was clear that Charlie wanted more than just a quote from the dictionary. She wanted residents of the Hotel to mull over it while looking deep down into themselves so they could share their stance on the matter later on.

That was the tricky part.

From how you saw it, “saving yourself” from sin was easy enough to accomplish. ‘Just don’t be a dick and avoid the bad shit.’ was the first thought that came to mind, but where you hit a snag was based on what Charlie had shared about Heaven. According to her, even so much as breathing in Hell was enough to solidify your place in the inferno, yet she made it clear that actively resisting sin wasn’t something to go unrecognized.

It took a lot of effort, energy, and courage to do so, and it was hard to disagree even if Heaven didn’t see it that way.

Error was a bit harder. In your opinion, nobody could be saved from that, at least not entirely. Eventually, inevitably, you or someone else would do something wrong, it was just a matter of degree. It could be something as minor as bumping into somebody by accident or as major as Angel relapsing for what felt like the hundredth time, but it would happen and it was only a matter of time.

Charlie did bring up a rather good point, though. Apologizing when you realized you had done something wrong was the best thing someone could do, and it was the first step in the right direction.

You had to give her credit where it was due for that.

But evil was a different matter entirely.

Evil lurked everywhere in Hell. Across every street, around every corner, evil was out in the open for everyone to bear witness and see. None of it was hidden. None of it was meant to be hidden.

What would be the point? You and every other sinner were already in Hell - and many would argue that hiding it would be counterintuitive to being there in the first place.

Charlie tried to plead the case that everyone had good in them. A good that could be tweezed out if given the right chance, and the right environment, which the Hotel was perfect for.

You wish you could agree.

Evil was in the hotel itself, not that Charlie was fully willing to see it.

You believed she was careless there. Little Miss Bleeding Heart wanted to see the best in people, and by god did you ever want to know what it was like to see through such rose-tinted glasses, but you knew you never could. Not in this place.

Stepping a foot into the building was the worst thing you’d ever done because it showed you just how wrong you were about evil being so out in the open. It still had the ability to lurk, something you learned the moment you shook hands with Alastor.

You could see it on his face upon meeting him for the first time - the way Alastor’s perpetual grin widened upon seeing the goosebumps that lined your arms when he clasped your hand in his. No comment was ever made on the matter, but the way his lips peeled back to reveal the black of his gums before he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles said enough.

Something utterly sinister reeked from him in a manner you couldn’t describe, so you took your own advice and applied the same thing you did when it came to sin.

Avoidance. As much as you could, at least.

Some moments were easier than others. The distinct metallic clack of Alastor’s microphone against the floor combined with a surge of radio static usually bought enough time for you to make whatever excuse you needed in order to leave before he arrived.

Other times you weren’t so lucky, and Charlie’s group meetings were usually to blame in that regard.

At first, you made a great deal of effort to put as much distance between yourself and the Radio Demon as you could, which worked for a time. Unfortunately, Alastor caught onto what you were doing much faster than you would’ve liked.

He reveled in it. You knew he did. After a while you had the gnawing suspicion he was purposefully going out of his way to make you as uncomfortable as possible for his own entertainment. You saw no other reason as to why he’d consistently move so close to you that you could literally feel him breathing down your neck.

Lately, he had adopted the skin-crawling habit of locking eyes with you the moment you stepped foot in the room and patting the seat beside him - reserved specifically for you. Accepting the gesture felt like swallowing nails, but being openly rude to Alastor was something that you knew better than to do.

Instead, you began to find excuses for skipping the meetings entirely and have Angel or Husker fill you in later, which was exactly what you were doing now.

“To be honest I wasn’t payin’ much attention,” Angel said while he scrolled through his phone, resting his chin in his upper left hand while his lower right swirled alcohol around in a glass. “Was the kind of thing that could’ve been sent in an email.”

You traced your finger around the rim of your own glass, its contents untouched. “Still, I want to know what I missed.”

“He’s right, it wasn’t anything special,” Husker replied, slinging a cloth over his shoulder from behind the bar. “Same old bullshit about salvation with a new coat of paint on top.”

A pang went through your chest, but you pushed it down. “So nothing new?”

Angel scoffed and looked up from his phone. “Trust me, dollface, you did yourself a favor.” He downed the rest of his drink in one go. “What were you doing anyways?”

“You know…” You replied with a shrug, glancing down. “I went out.”

Angel smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Out?”

“Yeah.” You tapped your nails against the edge of the glass. “Things were feeling a little claustrophobic, so I went out for some air.”

Husker made a noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah, I know how you feel, kid. This place is a mess.”

Angel tilted his head, placing his phone down on the bar and leaning forward a bit. “So where’d you go? Anywhere fun?”

“Where indeed~.”

All your movements went rigid. After a few seconds, you slowly turned your head to look over your shoulder to see Alastor standing barely a foot away from you, staring down at you with a tight, closed-lipped smile. You hadn’t heard him coming in the slightest, which you immediately could tell was intentional.

Whether he’d used his shadow or had actually stalked up behind you wasn’t something you wanted to think about, and if Angel or Husker picked up on the immediate tension, neither of them said anything about it.

“Hey, Smiles.” Angel greeted with his usual flirtation, placing the elbows of his upper arms on the bartop as he turned to face Alastor. “Fancy a drink? You look a little stiff” He gave Alastor a very long once over, “and I’ll have you know I know a few ways I can help relieve some… tension.”

Alastor’s lips curled back to reveal his teeth, the muscle in his cheek spasming for a moment.

Mentally you were kissing Angel on the cheek for the save as you slowly picked your coat up off the bar and slipped it on, concealing the goosebumps already present on your skin. Husker gave you a glance from the side and gave a very slight shake of his head, silently advising you against your unspoken desire to leave.

“I assure you, such a thing is never going to happen.~”

“You sure?” Angel rested his lower right arm on his hip. “I have a few tricks that can loosen you up.”

The leather in Alastor’s gloves audibly squeaked as his grip tightened around the staff of his microphone and his attention immediately shifted back to you, ignoring Angel entirely.

“My dear,” His voice dripped with such a saccharine sweetness it made you feel sick, “Could I speak with you for a moment?”

Fewer combinations of words could instill such a unique feeling of encroaching dread all at once, but you refused to let it show as you nodded and turned your body on the bar stool to face him fully; waiting for him to say the first word.

His eye twitched ever so slightly.

“Privately.”

That made you swallow.

“Sure.” You slid off the bar stool, doing your best not to appear as reluctant as you felt.

“Lovely.~” He said, promptly turning on his heel and walking towards the staircase - expecting you to follow.

You glanced back towards Husker and Angel, each giving you looks of grim sympathy and confusion respectively before you took a deep breath and forced one foot in front of the other, following Alastor up the steps.

You thought he would talk along the way. Engage in some form of idle chit-chat where he’d be pulling the strings, or even hum along to the countless jazz tunes that he played in the halls over the Hotel’s sound system.

But no such music played and he remained silent. A few minutes into the walk you gathered enough courage to glance up at him and found his eyes locked straight forward, not even sparing you so much as a glance.

You averted your gaze, the hem of your sleeves suddenly the most fascinating thing you’d ever seen.

Eventually, he came to a stop, and he held out the end of his microphone to prevent you from going any further down the hallway.

“Here we are!” Rather than producing a key from his coat, a green flash emanated from the lock when he placed his hand on the handle and opened the door.

He all but leered at you as he gave a small bow that didn’t feel genuine in the slightest.

“After you.~”

Like the alleged gentleman he was, Alastor held the door open for you, eyes never leaving your form as you walked inside his suite.

The smell of dampness and soil hit you immediately.

Alastor’s suite wasn’t the worst thing you’d seen in Hell by a mile, however, it was still eerie beyond words. The skeletons that hung along the walls and mantlepiece of his fireplace became less complete and increasingly disorganized as they led further into the room - which itself gave way to a swamp-like environment halfway through. Undoubtedly a result of whatever hoodoo, voodoo bullshit he was capable of, and while it still wasn’t the worst you’d seen, it served its purpose thoroughly.

It creeped the shit out of you.

“Now, then.” Alastor clicked the door shut, his body half-facing yours as his hand still lingered on the doorknob. “I'm sure you have a good explanation for what you’ve been doing.~”

The immediate dryness in your throat was hard to ignore. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew that he knew, but you still attempted to buy some time as you tried to figure out what to do.

You cleared your throat. “I was just catching up with Angel and Husk-”

He chuckled, the sound like that of a radio shifting stations. “Don’t be coy.” His head turned towards you with a sickening, ossified crackle that bent his neck in a manner that made your stomach lurch. “You’ve been avoiding me, and I’d like to know why.”

Fuck.

“I haven’t.” Lying to Alastor was a mistake, but you still decided to risk it since it wasn’t entirely false. “There’s just been a lot on my mind recently.”

“Hmm.” Interest and something much worse flickered behind his eyes as he faced you fully with another crack of his vertebrae. “Such as~?”

You shook your head, looking away from him. “That’s private.”

There was a quick flash of red, and the tip of his microphone turned your face back towards him - the cool metal of the edge digging into the skin of your cheek. You had to bite back a grimace.

“Not when it concerns me.” His tone was sharp, a stark contrast to the faux politeness he was putting on before. He kept the tip of his microphone where it was to prevent your eyes from looking anywhere but him. “And trust me darling, when it comes to you, everything concerns me.”

His words twisted in your gut. “...I’m not sure what you mean.”

Alastor tutted, his smile widening once more. “Don’t be stupid, darling, it’s unbecoming of you.” The way he said it was patronizing, like he was scolding a child. “You know precisely what I mean, so I’m going to ask again, as much as I hate repeating myself.~”

Cool metal was replaced with the warmth of his hand as he tilted your head up and brought his face frighteningly close to yours.

“Why are you keeping yourself from me?”

It was an odd sensation. Being backed into a corner, both metaphorically and physically. A frightening one that all but yanked on your instincts to do whatever it meant to get the fuck out of there, but you knew that was the worst thing you could do.

Alastor was a predator, a creature designed to prey on those he deemed weaker, and turning your back on a predator would almost certainly trigger a series of events that would not bode well for you.

So you did the next worst thing.

You told him the truth.

“Because I can see you.” The words felt wrong to say out loud. “I can see you for what you are, I can feel the absolute malevolence that radiates off you in waves, and it’s suffocating.”

Saying any more was a horrendous idea, but you couldn’t help but add one last thing.

“And if I want any chance at leaving this god-forsaken place, I can’t be around you.”

The silence that stretched on afterward was deafening.

Mentally, you were bracing yourself. Alastor had killed people for far less, and you expected nothing different for saying something so daring to his face.

You could see it too, the anger that simmered underneath his gaze. You expected the red of his sclera to flash black and his antlers to extend with his body in a grotesque display before you were ripped to pieces while he laughed.

What you didn’t expect was for his eyes to narrow into slits and his expression shift into one that was far more genuine than you wanted it to be, and it was then you knew that being saved from this kind of evil was never going to happen.

“Oh, my dear, you don’t need to worry about something silly like that.” Alastor all but cooed.

“After all, what makes you think I’d ever let you leave?~”

#riri writes #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Hazbin Hotel #Yandere x Reader #tw yandere #tw implied forced relationship #tw implied captivity #tw toxic relationship #tw possessiveness #tw invasion of personal space #tw noncon touching #I return to my lil nest now. adeu.

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chachued · 1 year ago

Note

I wanted to request lando x fem reader if possible when he’s leaving for a while and they’re extra affectionate the night before with longer hugs and more reassurance, it could even get emotional??

Thank you in advance🥰

omg, yes. absolutely adorable!!! such a cute idea, this is.

━━ NEVER LEAVING | LANDO NORRIS ⁴

He never left without you, but you couldn’t come with him this time. It wasn’t easy, to say the least, but this night made it all the better.

↳ lando norris x fem!reader

W/C 0.5k

CONTENTS fluff — so much fluff, best bf lando, clingy reader, a bit of attachment issues, half proofread, short imagine

TOMORROW WAS THE DAY. Even though you begged for a day off—just to spend time with your boyfriend—today was too far busy, said your boss.

It was already late at night, so you expected Lando to be asleep already. He had to leave tomorrow morning, so you let bygones be bygones.

You didn’t know work would last so long, there’s barely enough time to be with him. And most of it will be used sleeping beside him. Everything consumed the energy that usually sparked inside you — The one that was excited to go home to him.

The key was deep inside your bag while you shuffled for it, prolonging the wait outside your door, which was insufferable. All you wanted to do was lay in bed—preferably with his arms around you.

The door handle clicked, and then it opened. “You’re home!”

“You’re still awake?” You were relieved, but rightfully worried because it is twelve in the morning.

His hand took yours, dragging you inside. “Of course, I am.”

“What’s that — And that smell?”

“Well, that is your favourite movie, with your favourite food, and your favourite snacks, actually.”

Wow. He really did it all for you.

There were candles that were already half-melted, probably the ones that were hiding in an obscure area. The line of expensive meals and cheap takeout showed a variety of food. It’s like he knew you hadn't eaten yet.

Lando couldn’t help but notice the way the light hit your face, highlighting that pretty smile of yours—melting him from the inside. “There’s also a bunch of blankets to get you comfy. I’m sure you would’ve been tired when you got home.”

“I love you so much right now.”

“You didn’t love me before?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling.

“I love you too.”

Anxiety piled up — That overwhelming feeling.

It finally hits you he’d be leaving tomorrow morning. All this effort and it didn’t even last long because, before you knew it, he’d be gone. It hurt, and you didn’t know why.

It wasn’t the fact that he was leaving. It’s because he motivated you throughout the day, promising kisses and goods—giving a reason to be excited about life. What could you do without him?

Lando was cuddled up next to you, lying on your chest, when he heard your sniffling. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“I’m here,” he said, and in all honesty, it made the tears harder to hold in.

But you stayed strong.

“It’s just… You’re leaving, and all that. I don’t know, I feel a bit silly.”

He held you tighter, not planning to ever let you go. His eyes were heavy, but he’d stay up all night to be with you.

No amount of sleep can replace you, he thought.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can.” His hand slithered onto your cheek, wiping the loose tear. “I’m never ever leaving you.”

That was the promise he’d never dare to break.

It was insane. You felt insane. He was doing all this for you, and you felt like a burden. There was nothing you did to deserve this—

You felt his soft lips on yours—holding on for a second—and the warm embrace melted you in quick.

“Text me and I’ll fly back to you, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Alright?”

A giggle slipped out of your mouth. “Alright, yeah.”

This was home — Your home.

And it would never fall apart, not with him.

↳ bonus ; next morning ´ˎ˗

LOADING . . . ✎

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 #formula 1 #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #fluff #mclaren #ln4 #ln4 x reader

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dreamwritersworld · 1 year ago

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His daughter (sully family x reader)

It was rare for Navi’s to have twins. So with Neytiri’s pregnancy with Lo’ak and Y/n it was safe until it wasn’t, she had almost lost Y/n in her womb. It would’ve left Lo’ak by himself, the rest of Neytiri’s pregnancy was the worst. She knew her baby girl was going to be born weak, so when they pulled her out of Neytiri’s womb it was like they were taking the life right out of her. Neytiri immediately went to grab her, longing for her daughter’s heart beat. Compared to Lo’aks body Y/n was small and fragile..from then on the connection with their daughter was strong, they needed to be in order to keep her alive.

So from then on Y/n was Jake’s baby girl, his precious daughter. It should be noted that she was Lo’aks twin and was raised along side him and Kiri.

Of course as any child would, Lo’ak and Kiri had selective hearing when it came to their father and his many rules growing up. However, Y/n listened. She was the only one out of all three who truly cared about her fathers opinion. In the eyes of the clan Y/n was Jake’s golden heart.

“Mhm and Ooo! What is this papa?”

The child had wobbled to her mothers chain of flower, she had planned to surprise the girls with.

“ahhh, that my little one is not for you!”

“…are you sure papa? It looks nice on me.”

Y/n twirled around with the flower crown, smiling with glee and grace.

“It does!! But your mother would kill me if she found out I let you-“

Neytiri had walked through the home before he could even finish his sentence

“Ma’Jake?! You were supposed to hide it!”

“She got a hold of it!”

“It looks amazing mama-”

While spinning however, Y/n fell to the floor and both parents looked at her in disbelief. They froze for a moment waiting for the cry’s to begin..but they never did. Y/n just laughed at herself and laughed at her parents for worrying more than she had. Jake’s smile couldn’t hide, he knew that Y/n was strong and he loved that about her.

The only issue with Y/n was that she wore her heart on her sleeve. She loved to love everything in site, and she often gave people the benefit of the doubt. Jake saw that, and he trained her very well. He had her perfected and established to be a role model for the clan. Despite all his efforts, y/n didn’t find it in her heart to view the world as he did. So, he kept a watch fall eye on her to keep her safe, and Y/n was never allowed anywhere without someone around.

“I’m going around the village! By-“

“Nope! Not without your sister!”

Y/n had tried her hardest to remain patient with her father, settling on not saying anything and instead holding her frustration in. All she desperately wanted was time to herself; she was exhausted from spending time with everyone.

In many ways Y/n knew how to capture anyone’s eye. She was the most vibrant out of all siblings. All siblings remained close, but they had never gotten to the point where they would speak about..the cracks within their house..

Jake had been furious that he found both of his sons wondering around the forest, with no care in the world.

“Lo’ak are you stupid?! You were given orders! Stay away from those areas of the forest!..and you! Neteyam how many times do I have to tell you to keep an eye on your siblings!”

Both boys would blink their tears away..

It wasn’t just them..

Y/n had been eating her dinner alongside her family when an elder adult approached her. They had instructed her to fix something, in an aggressive tone; almost as though they were demanding it be done now. For once, Y/n retaliated gently, slightly annoyed that she was constantly interrupted when she was trying to connect and eat like the rest of the clan.

“Im sorry, can it wait till im done eating? then I’ll be happy to do it! thank you.”

The elder had gotten annoyed because it was the first time, Y/n declined aiding. The women had walked away in a rush, upset at the girl.

The siblings quickly exchanged confused faces about the situation before leaping back into their conversation but Jake couldn’t shake off the emotions he was feeling about Y/n denying the women.

“..that was rude why did you treat her like that?”

Y/n looked at her father with a questionable look..

“She was rude first.”

“So? She is an elder..”

“I said I would get it done later sir, im eating like the rest of you. She can wait.”

“Y/n that is not the behavior you should be having towards the clan.”

The pair had went back and forth in hushed voice as the rest of the family watched.

“..why is it that she can toss orders at me and you can be completely fine with it?”

“Y/n you can’t be talking back to me-“

“Can our daughter not eat in peace Jake? Please can the both of you be quiet.”

The pair turned to Neytiri and all Y/n could do was pass a gentle smile at her mother, glad she had stepped in. It was very rare that Neytiri ever did. Both Y/n and Jake were so used to getting what they wanted, that the pair would often clash heads…

The arguments didn’t start until Y/n got older. She had gotten so eager to finally go out by herself and be more independent. That’s just the person Y/n was, she was willing to take risks and adventure. Funny enough Lo’ak was the same, yet he got away with majority of the things he did because it was expected of him. Y/n always had to come back home looking the same as she did before she left. Not a hair or seam in her outfit out of place, if Jake knew she did anything he wouldn’t approve of he’d be furious.

To Y/n , that was the most frustrating thing of all. Everyone of her siblings would be able to go out, except her. She had hated it, she always felt watched. When the people came up to her she felt as though she couldn’t truly connect, she was absolutely terrified of the things they’d tell her father if she did.

For her father’s approval, Y/n conquered more than you can imagine. She had more talent in her body at her young age than any male soldier.

You can only imagine how eager Jake was to leave the forest. His sacred children were held at gunpoint, what more of a signal could there be as a warning to go?

So the family left their home; tears fell from everyone’s eyes as they were now torn away from their friends and families. Y/n eventually grew with excitement and encouraged the rest of her siblings to feel the same, she knew something good was coming. Eywa was going to treat them to a reset button.

When they arrived on the island Y/n stood tall and confident. The clan looked at them with the most disgusted faces, confused as to why they were there and what they’d be asking for..

Time had passed and when Ronal got to Y/n, she didn’t hesitate to poke at her body. She had no shame in Critiquing it, in-front of her people…

“This child! She won’t last-“

Neytiri hissed, frustrated at Ronal for even implying that. Jake had told her to calm down, yet again putting his foot down.

“Do you think this is what we want here? Your children’s bodies won’t survive in our ocean, their demon blood runs thick..”

Ronal continued by picking at Kiri and Lo’ak next.. degraded was an understatement of how Y/n felt. She looked at the crowd furiously, until her eyes settled on a boy who had just came onto shore. He had teased her siblings here and there before meeting her eyes.

Ao’nung could feel the madness within her eyes, how fragile and frightened this experience was for her. Those eyes told everything. He had made the abrupt choice to put the teasing to an end, deciding it wasn’t worth it. Nothing could perfectly describe the way Ao’nung viewed Y/n , she was breathtaking to him. Different than the rest of the Navi’s but comforting.

When he was walking them to their Mauri he had gotten quiet, glancing at her the entire walk. She looks so comfortable in her skin, confident even! But when you took one look at her eyes it was like they captivated you and told you her life’s story. He was so interested in her background..

Y/n had remained quiet the rest of the night, she was excited before but now…the anxiety and sadness settled in. She missed the forest, she missed home. Y/n missed it so much that she regretted being at least a little excited, she threw herself to go back to grieving. All her siblings seemed eager to learn, but she knew that if she didn’t get any of it right or if her father didn’t think she was trying hard enough he’d made her relearn to all over and over again.

So there she was, picking at her food…fighting the tears. In that moment she realized she pushed those excited emotions on herself, at home she had a role to withold and the people were always so eager to speak to her. Maybe she took it for granted sometimes but, she would always take the time to say hello and ask how everyone’s day was.

“Y/n? Y/n? Y/n!”

She had been pulled out of her transit once again.

“Yes?”

“I know it’s hard. But we can’t sit at the table with upset faces. When you’re out there? You smile. When they don’t smile back? You smile. Even when They’re not here you must smile. they cannot know you have a distasteful thought while being here.”

She was mad. Mad that he was still holding his guard up. Upset that he had managed to order her around even when he wasn’t trying to. Frustrated that he couldn’t see that they should be allowed to grieve the loss of their home. Neither of them realized how exhausted and how easily irritated both of them could get after the amount of traveling they did.

“No ones here except family-“

“So? Your siblings feel your emotions! You’re making everyone upset.”

“How is that my fault? I’ve been trying-“

“Well try harder! Cause that face isn’t showing it.”

Those furious tears fell from her eyes as she stared at her father. He wanted to control everywhere she went, and now he wanted to control her emotions.

“..Well you can’t go around acting like that either..”

“Don’t cry now Y/n.”

“Yup, that’s me being dramatic. Once again, father knows everything!”

“I know everything! Because I do everything.”

Y/n got up from her spot and walked away from her meal, exhausted from her father. She was beginning to get the strength to just forget pleasing him. Y/n no longer wanted to be her father’s golden child, it had gotten so bad he’d even describe her as a burnt out star..

Even when it was visible Y/n no longer wanted to argue, Jake kept pushing and he followed her as she attempted to walk away.

“..cause you don’t let me do anything! I could help more if you just let me go!”

Neytiri gasped, fear reaping right out of her. What she feared was true, Y/n did notice how tight Jake held onto her, and she felt suffocated. The true truth was right between her words.

“Please the both of you are just tired, finish eating.”

“No Neytiri. I’m tired of this behavior. Y/n! With the way you’re acting, you are doing the opposite of help!”

Neteyam grew accustomed to taking the siblings out the room when anyone was arguing with father, he knew because it’s what he would��ve wanted. The most harshest punishments come from their father.

“I’m doing the best I can! What else do you want from me?!”

“I want you to be better! And to maybe spend some time thinking about how you’re effecting this family! I can’t keep arguing with you! This year has been a wreak! And it started with you, constantly acting out. You don’t get to be sad when you became reckless with the clan when they needed you.!”

Y/n started at her father for a brief moment, she gave her heart a moment to break. The clan meant everything to Y/n and yes, sometimes recently she had denied their demands to stay late and aid within their homes simply because everyone has their moment when they were tired of everything. The face of betrayal came across her face once again..

“…you may tell me how to shoot a gun, or train or who I get to hang out with, but you don’t tell me how to grieve my home and clan! I’m done with this conversation.”

“Oh!! Now I get it, this is about your training, that you fell down from!”

“Oh my goodness! This has nothing to do with my capabilities! But since we’re on the subject just because I mess up with small details, doesn’t mean that I won’t succeed in life! You do not get to tell me that!”

“I get to tell you all of it! Because I made you! Remember that Y/n!”

“Yea dad…you made me..okay..that’s fine..”

Neytiri wanted to cry at seeing her daughter’s shoulder weaken, her posture fall with her tears, and her hair detach from her scalp once again since she had run her hand through it. The volume in her voice got low and cracked, her daughter had accepted defeat in Jakes argument.

The siblings walked back in and watched Y/n walk into a dark corner of the Maui, turning her back to her family..

They sat there and didn’t bat a word at Jake, simply gotten used to his behavior and treatment of Y/n. They didn’t believe he was right for it, but what can you do when you know she’s at least fighting for herself? All siblings and mother accepted that she would never change.

Y/n laid there weeping silently, allowing her body to fall into a deep rest she needed badly.

!💗!

HEYYYY HOPE YOU LIKED IT MWAH!!!

@venomsvl

#jake sully x reader #angst #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar loak #sully family x daughter reader #spotify #aonung x reader #soundcloud

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thepixelelf · 4 months ago

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superhero cheol x tech whiz reader warnings: coarse language. food. wc: 1.0k

[anonymous nights] As Seungcheol ducked behind the world’s most disgusting, foul-smelling, gag-inducing dumpster, he thought this was perhaps — no, definitely — the worst idea you’d ever had. His full-head mask was starting to itch, and he felt stupid in his suit sneaking through alleys and hiding behind trash cans.

“Remind me again why I’m following this random ass dude instead of Seo Jewon? What happened to catching the city’s ‘fourth most dangerous villain’?”

A bit of static tickled Seungcheol’s ear through the communication device implanted in his suit, which he knew meant you were getting further and further away the more he pursued the target. He had no idea where you parked your small van, aside from knowing it was somewhere in the city — a precaution put in place so Seungcheol would never be able to give away your location. Or, more accurately, so he wouldn’t risk losing the petabytes of information you’d collected over the years.

“Seo Jewon was a total red herring, this is our real guy,” you said through his earpiece.

The man he was following kept walking, and Seungcheol almost thanked him because he had to get away from whatever was polluting that dumpster. “And you know that because…?”

“Hey, who’s the brains of this operation?” You sounded slightly garbled, but Seungcheol could hear your mouse clicking in the background. “That’s right, me.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes even though he knew you couldn’t see it.

“I can feel you rolling your eyes, Solar Flare.”

Okay, maybe not.

“How do you always do that?”

He could hear your smile through the device. Maybe it wasn’t so hard. “I told you. Brains.” You tapped your mic twice, and Seungcheol winced at the plosive sound. He was about to complain when you spoke again. “Eyes up, Solar, you’re losing him.”

Glancing around, Seungcheol realized he did, in fact, lose track of the target, and he cursed under his breath. He heard you holding back laughter before you muted yourself. Picking up the pace and getting heavier on his feet, Seungcheol searched for your supposed ‘true villain’. Your silence only spurred him on; he knew you were making fun of him in your head.

You’d been assigned to him about a year ago, a decision made by the higher-ups because Seungcheol was apparently “too much of a handful” with his fiery powers (plus an equally fiery attitude), and you were the prodigious tech newbie they could force into working with him. Little did they know, spending too much time with him made you just as annoying. Hence why you and him were out tonight, chasing a completely new suspect instead of the one the bosses sent you after.

“Check your two o’clock.”

Seungcheol slipped into another alleyway, sticking close to the walls, though a load of good that did. “You know,” he said, a little breathless from his efforts to catch up to the target, “it might be a bit easier for me to tail this guy if I wasn’t dressed like Guy Fieri.”

“Hey, I didn’t design the suit, I just built it.” Your words sounded weird again. “Blame the fashion department, not me.”

“Okay, one, we don’t have a fashion department, and two, are eating cup fucking ramen right now?”

He could hear you slurping noodles up. “What? I can’t have dinner and save the city at the same time?”

“Dinner?! It’s like one in the morning!”

“I'm a busy sidekick.”

“You are not my sidekick.”

You snorted into the mic, an undignified sound you never held back from making when it was just you and Seungcheol. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Whatever. Tell me you at least had breakfast.” The line went silent, and Seungcheol cursed again. “You’re a hazard.”

Seungcheol could feel your greasy smile through the comm as you cooed. “I’m your hazard, Solar Flare.”

After working together for almost a year, you still hadn’t called Seungcheol by his name. You said it was “keeping things professional”, but Seungcheol was pretty sure you just liked to tease him. Before you, no one had ever made jokes about his destructive superpowers. In fact, most people stayed away from him as much as possible. Then you came along and started saying he was your personal barbecue grill or space heater, never once afraid of his tendency to catch things on fire.

Seungcheol never told you how much he appreciated that.

“Shut up,” he mumbled.

“You lost him again.”

“God damn it.”

Seungcheol spent the next twenty minutes tailing your suspect through the city with you piping in every few turns, letting him know what he couldn’t see. He was beginning to think this was stupid. Of course this guy wasn’t the culprit, you must have been wrong — it wasn’t like you’d never been wrong before.

But then the guy turned a corner where almost no one ever went. He walked through another totally gross alley and went down some rusted outdoor basement stairs, glancing around. Almost like he didn’t want to be followed. Seungcheol silently pleaded it wasn’t what it looked like. (Though he probably shouldn’t have, considering this meant he was about to catch the bad guy.)

After the man entered the door, Seungcheol walked up to it, peering through the tiny barred window. He couldn’t see anything, so he opened the door just a crack and stepped through as quietly as he could. A dark hallway was all that greeted him, but down it, he could hear angry voices going at each other over something he couldn’t quite make out. Peeking out of the hallway, Seungcheol immediately retracted when he saw everything. A bunch of men and piles and piles of… well he didn’t know exactly what, but it didn’t look good.

“I fucking knew it!” you cheered through his earpiece. You must’ve already taken a picture during the millisecond Seungcheol had poked his head out and scanned it. “Alright, I’m calling backup.”

“What’s our cover story tonight? That I just so happened to stumble across the city’s fourth most dangerous secret lair?”

You clacked away at your keyboard. “No cover story this time. I found this guy fair and square.”

part 2 | part 3

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vee6lolz · 5 months ago

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𝖇𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝖍𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝖇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬.

summary; after falling in love with spencer reid, you navigate the challenges that come with your relationship. While you cherish your moments together, the rough patches can be hard to ignore. One day, in an effort to find clarity, you go shopping and unexpectedly discover something world shattering. But before you can share the news with Spencer, he comes home with a shocking revelation that could change everything between you.

cw!!; +18 content, minors dni!, spencer reid x reader, angst, cliffhanger ending, breakups, mentions of drug use, mentions emetophobia warning; vomiting -- mentions of pregnancy -- Y/N HAS A GIRL KISSER BSF !

. w/c: 4.1k -- don't forget to like / reblog !! this is not proof read + english is not my first language

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

reblog or comment for part 2 <3

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retroaria · 5 months ago

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₊˚⊹☆ SKETCH ₊˚⊹☆

a/n: i’m an artist!bachira truther, you can’t tell me he wouldn’t love art and make some of the coolest stuff in another life. lowkey not proofread but i think it’s ok !!

bachira meguru x reader fluff | BLUE LOCK M.LIST | enjoy 🐥

From the corner of your eye you could see him bursting in and out of sudden movement. when he wasn’t scratching away in his sketchbook, you could feel his eyes on you, focused. any time you did catch a glance he’d ignore your gaze, study you for a moment, then go back to the sketchbook. you’ve been in this position before, forced to be a stoic mannequin for your boyfriends candid sketches of you. if it weren’t for the essay you so desperately needed to finish, you’d ask him about the drawing, but even just speaking a word to him might trigger the pent up energy you know he’s been hiding.

when bachira came over today he promised he wouldn’t bother you until you had finished all your work. all he wanted was your company, so you let him lay on your bed while you sat at your desk and typed away.

it wasn’t his fault for how distracted you were by him. he kept his promise, he hasn’t said a word since you started working and he’s even made sure his movements on the bed were slow and quiet as not to disturb you. his decision to draw you right now was innocent, but he was unknowingly peeking your interests away from your computer screen. without much effort to deny your urges, you caved.

“hey megs, are you drawing me?” you had now turned to face him in your chair, locking eyes with him as your words broke his focus. you could see those yellow irises light up at the sound of your voice, you momentarily regretted it until you saw the warm smile that spread across his face.

“yeah i am! mmm wanna see? it’s not done yet but…” he shifted in the bed, reaching his arm out to pass you his sketchbook. you accepted and took the book out of his hands, brushing some eraser shavings off the opened page, shavings you were sure covered your bed right now. that shred of annoyance disappeared as you saw the drawing he had started of you.

little detail was dedicated to your desk and office chair, he did make sure to draw the subtle decorations that garnished that corner of your room. there were scribbles on the computer screen and a stack of textbooks on the desk, he lazily outlined the little figures you had on the desk. more and more detail started merging into the piece where your hands met your keyboard. there they were, typing away, the bracelets on your wrist, the rings on your fingers, all of it was there. your arms were presented in a sluggish position, your shoulders dropped and your head cocked to the side.

your body was the center of the piece, everything down to the dangly earrings that poked through your strands of hair was there on the page. the cute design of your pajama pants, the way your hoodie (his hoodie) bunched up around your arms and waist loosely. he gave lots of attention to your hair, even sketching out the places where the light reflected off of it, making it look shiny and soft. he was looking at mainly your side profile, so he couldn’t get much of your face into frame, but he did make sure to draw your delicate lashes, the subtle reflection of light that glistened in your eye, and the gentle pout of your lips. whenever he drew people he’d put little swirls on their noses, “noses are so cute! they’re like little buttons!” he’d say.

the drawing wasn’t finished, as he had said, but it already made you’re heart flutter in awe. no matter how many times bachira drew you, each one felt special. you knew that if you continued to flip through the pages of his sketchbook you’d find yourself in various situations, sleeping with the morning light casted on your frame, sitting on a park bench with a book in your hand, looking in the mirror mindlessly as you did your hair. and you knew these drawings of you were just for him, just because he wanted to draw you and have a moment of you in all your candid glory tucked away in his sketchbook.

“it’s coming out really well! i like it a lot, thank you.” you said warmly, offering the sketchbook back to him with a smile on your face. he grabbed it and shifted back into position to immediately start working on it again without saying a word. you sat there and watched as his pencil returned to the paper and he his eyes looked up at you once again, ignoring your gaze, and taking in the details of your position.

“you’re really cute you know, when you’re all focused. your tongues peeking out a bit.” you turned back to face the computer, trying your best to recreate the position he was previously drawing you in.

“is this a test or something?” he whined at you. you looked over at him, raising an eyebrow at his question. “you’re making it really hard to sit here quietly, i feel like i’m gonna explode. stop calling me cute and finish your stupid essay” he said, a grumpy look on his face that you couldn’t help but find adorable. you giggled softly at his expression, you hadn’t realized that you were distracting him from desperately trying not to distract you. it dawned upon you how antsy he probably was.

“i’m sorry megs, let’s both get back to work” you cracked your knuckles and returned your gaze to the computer screen. his eyes piercing through you every so often still made it hard to focus on the essay. you haphazardly went to finish up your essay, deciding it was more important to stay still so he could continue his doting illustrations of you.

divider - @enchanthings

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tulip-room · 6 months ago

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﹄▹Funny Thing◃﹃

if you had stuck around...

pairing. Kageyama x Reader

content. maybe if he had been selfish he wouldn't have missed you so bad. maybe if he had been selfish, he would have you.

words. 4.7k

warnings. ANGST. Had Mr. Loverman on repeat while writing this so that is a warning itself. friends -> something a little more -> something a little less

a/n: blame my fyp for this song popping up constantly. Also please yell at me and tell me your opinions. I feed off of the reactions hehe

You were his first love, he thought he might’ve been yours too. That’s the funny thing with thoughts though, our minds have ways of tricking us into believing what we want to believe. No matter what the truth might really be.

“Tobio!” You wave excitedly when you see him and race over to meet him, you almost trip over your feet but catch yourself.

“Don’t run that fast, you’ll trip and fall on your face like an idiot.” You roll your eyes at him and hit his arm lightly.

“How charming,” you deadpanned. “We both know you would catch me.” You tease and start going on about something. He wants to be a good friend and say he was listening but all he can think about is your words. Can you catch someone when you’re already falling yourself? Would you catch him if you knew he was falling? His eyes scanned over your face, analyzing it. The way your lips form words, how they look shiny. Did you get a new lip gloss? Was it a flavored one?

He nodded his head along as you talked, he always paid attention to details of things he cared about. You were near the top of that list. He cared about you more than he wanted to admit. Not everything needed to be spoken into words though, his hand would go over edges so you didn’t hit your head coming back up from grabbing something. How he would smile slightly at glitter pens because you always had one in your bag and it made him think of you. How he would get two drinks instead of one at the vending machine two times a week because you walked home with him on Wednesdays and Fridays. How he had extra chapstick in his bag because you would apply coat after coat when you were anxious about something and complain that you didn’t have anymore. It didn’t take effort to fall in love with you, all it had taken was you.

There were many ways he could show that he loved you, ways he wasn’t aware of. Ways he was made aware of when he did them and didn’t have anyone to do them for anymore. The hair ties in the small pouch on his bag were unused because you weren’t there to use them anymore. How he would still hang back after practice on Wednesdays and Fridays before realizing that you weren’t there to walk with him anymore. It was silly, he knows. But even though you had moved he still felt like you were with him everywhere, because everything reminded him of you.

The text messages were far and few between now. He couldn’t help his excitement when his phone buzzed on the table and he hoped it was you. He also couldn’t hide his disappointment when it wasn’t you. He liked to rationalize that you were both just busy, which was true. That you had a habit of ‘out of sight, out of mind’ he did too. You just were never out of his mind.

He still has the photo of both of you at graduation on his bedside table. He remembers how he felt when you told him you got offered a job on the other side of the world. He remembers how the breeze had felt, it was a summer day. The crickets chirping, the leaves rustling. You looked as perfect as he always thought you did. He wanted to tell you right there that he was in love with you. That you were an idiot for not noticing sooner that he was hopelessly infatuated with you. But, you were quicker.

You pulled Kageyama off to the side after the small party the club had put on. The two of you outside, the sun setting in the background. The pages ending on this chapter of your life. You practically hummed with excitement. It was infectious and he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips to see you so happy. “I have something to tell you,” you had whispered it but the lilt of your voice made it clear that it wasn’t really that much of a secret.

“Me too,” he could already feel his hands getting clammy. His mouth suddenly felt drier than it had moments prior and he felt cold. Was this how it always felt when you were going to confess to the person you had been in love with for the last three years?

“Me first?” He nodded his head, he couldn’t put an end to your excitement. The words that came out of your mouth next though made him wish he had gone first. He felt the chill that raked over his body, how his heart felt like it had dropped. His chest tightened and his throat itched. His eyes filled with tears but he could excuse them for happy tears if he tried hard enough. “I got an offer to manage a team overseas. The pay is really good and,” your voice trailed off in his ears.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything else. You were leaving. He missed his chance to have you, you were going somewhere far away from him. Overseas. Not a five minute walk down the road like you currently were, no more banging on your door to make sure you got up for school. Well, there wouldn’t be anymore of that anyway he reasoned. No more seeing you everyday, no more walking home together twice a week. No more chapstick in his bag, no more hair ties that would find themselves around his wrist, but most importantly. No more you.

“..io? Tobio?” You waved your hand in front of his face and it snapped him out of whatever daze he was in. You still looked so happy, your eyes practically shining. He always had loved your eyes, saying what you couldn’t.

He could feel the tears rolling down his cheek now, warm and wet. Making streaks on his cheek but he forced a smile to his face. “That’s great,” his voice cracked but you didn’t comment. It was really great for you. He was being a bad friend for not being happy for you. He was being selfish for crying over not having you anymore. Did he ever have you to begin with though?

“What did you want to tell me?” He shook his head and waved you off.

“I’m going pro,” he made the excuse up on the spot. It wasn’t a lie that he was going pro. It just wasn’t what he really wanted to tell you. For all his selfishness though, he couldn’t tell you he loved you when you were going to leave. He couldn’t see how your face would drop, how you would fidget with your hands and put chapstick on. Tell him you could work something out. He didn’t want to hold you back. He would never hold you back, so because he loves you he was going to let you go.

“Is there a reason you are standing by the door?” One of his teammates had asked one Wednesday afternoon. He nodded before shaking his head no.

“No, sorry.” He didn’t have a reason to wait by the door anymore, you weren’t coming. You were somewhere else, probably asleep while he was here. Waiting for you. It was like that for the first month he had practice since you were gone. For a month like clockwork he would get two drinks from the vending machine and wait by the door of the gym every Wednesday and Friday, waiting for someone who wasn’t coming. He hadn’t realized at first just how much he was going to miss you.

Miss your voice, your smile, your teasing comments. How much he was going to miss being around you. There was one day he texted asking where you were because he was waiting. When you didn’t immediately respond he remembered that you weren’t there anymore. He sent a quick apology and shoved the device back into his pocket. He looked down at the two drinks in his hand and sighed. He needed to stop doing this. He needed to stop missing you so much.

There were days he would go through his photo gallery just so he could look at your face again. Remembering every detail. Wondering if you had changed much since he last saw you. There was a picture from the second week of school, you had forced him to take it.

“We have to commemorate the occasion! Come on! Smile!” He had begrudgingly smiled and leaned down a little bit to get into frame. You lifted your arm up and let out a small laugh at his face, he looked at you questioningly but you just shook your head. “Okay, 1..2..3!” Your finger pressing on the button and taking the photo. It hadn’t been a particularly memorable moment. Nothing special about the interaction except that it had been with you. Everything that had you in it was special to him.

The shirt you got him for his birthday was still hanging up in his closet. You hadn’t been able to catch a flight home, he understood. You had called him at midnight (his time) to tell him happy birthday and then texted him again when it was midnight in your time. He had told you how silly it was but you had rebutted that you were just wishing him a happy birthday.

“You already told me happy birthday idiot.” He huffed into the phone, you weren’t expecting him to call you but you can’t say it wasn’t a welcomed surprise.

“Yeah? And? I’m saying it again.”

“And I’m telling you that it’s stupid.”

“I told you happy birthday, what’s stupid about that.” It was clear to him now that you weren’t going to listen. Although, it should’ve been clear to him from the start that you wouldn’t listen. Once you had set your mind to something you were going to do it. Even if it meant staying up to all hours of the day just so your best friend could get birthday wishes twice over.

You weren’t able to visit very often, mentioning how it would always hurt again when you left. That you would always miss home. Part of him wondered if you missed him. Everytime he sends you off at the airport all he can see is the first time he did it.

He wonders if you ever think of your promises as often as he thinks of them.

“We should live together after high school,” it was mentioned offhandedly as the two of you walked home one Friday. He hummed in response but kept quiet for a moment. “It’d be much cheaper than trying to live on our own.”

“Like I would want to live with you,” he has teased.

“Oh please.” You roll your eyes. “You love me.” You smiled back at him and it took everything in him at that moment not to tell you yes, I do love you thanks for finally noticing. He bit back the words.

“So, where are we living?”

“Tokyo, I do love the city.”

“Okay.” He complied easily and it wasn’t mentioned later when he sent you a link to an apartment in Tokyo for two. It wasn’t mentioned when you loved the message and sent him one back.

He passes by the complex sometimes on his morning runs. Someone else had understandably taken up living in that apartment. The apartment you had sent was still available though, like it was waiting for you to come back like he was. He stops every morning and looks at the windows. He can almost see with picture perfect clarity what living with you would’ve looked like.

He can see the little cat sitting in the window, he can see the posters decorating every room. He can hear your laughter as you clean. Can see you dance while he cooks with you, can feel you put your hand on his shoulder to reach something. He can see the things that could’ve been, the things that should’ve been. He doesn’t have many regrets in life but he thinks this is one. He shouldn’t have let you go in that airport. Shouldn’t have stood there and watched you walk away from everything, from him.

He stands there everyday for fifteen minutes. And then, like clockwork after fifteen minutes he goes back to running and pretends like he hadn’t just imagined a whole life with you that had been at the tips of his fingers. The day someone moves into the apartment he stands there for twenty minutes. He watches the movers placing boxes down, watches as the young couple smiles and talks happily while hanging up posters. Watch as their cat jumps onto the window sill. Watch them live the life he wanted for himself. A life with you.

It had been an early flight because you wanted to sleep on the plane. You didn’t want to go alone so he had gotten up to go with you. He helped you with your bags, and had taken you to a cafe right by the airport to get some breakfast.

“Thank you for doing this Tobio.” He nodded, not yet awake enough to have this conversation. Not trusting that he wouldn’t say something stupid. Something selfish.

The two of you sat under the buzzing lights of the cafe, the store almost completely empty. They had just opened up and he was grateful because he’s not sure he would be able to have this moment if there were more people. If he could be as brave as he was being now. “Are you excited?”

“And nervous. What if I’m not doing the right thing by leaving? What if I fall and can’t get back up?”

“You’ll be fine.” He took a bite of his muffin, hoping to choke down the don’t go he could feel scratching its way up his throat. He watched with careful eyes as you pulled out chapstick and applied it. “If you fall I’ll be there to help you back up, don’t say such stupid things. I’ll always be here.” Maybe he could hope there was part of you that took his words for a deeper meaning. He would always be here, but you wouldn’t. He turned his head to look out the window at your table. The sun was just peeking its head over the horizon, just rising on this new chapter of your lives. A chapter without each other.

“I’ll be here too…if you need me.” How was he supposed to tell you that he would always need you. That he needed you here with him, not off out there thousands of miles away. Because the fact was that you weren’t always going to be there. Be here. He couldn’t hold it against you. He could never.

“We have to go,” he says abruptly and stands up from the table. You nod your head in silence and stand up, you wipe your hands on your pants and clear your throat. The two of you walk out of the cafe in silence, bags over shoulders and somberness taking over the moment. You going off was supposed to be exciting but how exciting could it be for him to lose someone he cared about so much.

When you reached the airport he pulled you into a hug, he wasn’t the most affectionate person but today he would make an exception. He hugged you because what he really wanted to do was hold your face and kiss you. Beg you not to leave, to stay here. To stay with him. His heart yearned to keep you for himself. That maybe you didn’t want to go, maybe he could talk you out of it. If he could be selfish this one time that maybe he could be yours and you his.

He liked to think that part of you wanted him to be selfish. That you wanted him to tell you not to leave, to ask you to stay. To say you were making a horrible decision. To tell you he would miss your walks home, your complaints about chapstick, that he would miss buying two drinks at the vending machine, that he would miss the way you said his name. How excited you always looked to see him. That he would miss you. But he wasn’t that selfish. He just hugged you close to him until you had to go, the two of you standing in silence of the surprisingly crowded airport.

“Goodbye Tobio, take care of yourself.” Your voice hitched and he swears he could see tears in your eyes as you pulled away from his embrace. From him.

“Goodbye Y/N, I’ll take care of myself if you do too.” He hated how this moment should be happy, this moment where you were going to live your life. Be happy. Be happy. Be happy, he repeated to himself over and over and over as he watched your figure retreat from his view. He’s not sure how long he stayed in that airport for, at least until the sun was high in the sky, all of a sudden. He had blinked and you were gone. He did however learn that he hates airports. And he wishes he could be more selfish.

He went home that day and hid under his blankets. He pulled them over his head and he laid against the cold wall. The tears wouldn’t even fall from his eyes, they were stuck. He was stuck. He should be happy. He tries to remind himself. But how could he be? How could he possibly be happy when it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. How could he be happy when he had to watch the person he loved walk away from him, away from everything that they said they were going to do. It was silly to promise to always be together, just like it was silly of him to imagine a life where you hadn’t left.

He would sometimes still find himself picturing it. If he had been selfish in that airport. What would have happened? Would you have smiled and told him he was an idiot for not telling you sooner? Would you have cried and told him that you were still leaving, that you had to leave. He likes to think you would stay. He could see it so clearly, like it was something that was in his grasp. That he could touch it.

Everything would be the same only when you pulled away to tell him goodbye he wouldn’t tell you goodbye. He would hold you tighter and ask you to stay. To stay for him, to stay because he would miss you, to stay because he loved you, because he thinks about a life where you’re not there and he can’t see a happy one. He asks you to stay because you’re needed here, because he needs you. He reminds you of your promises, promises to stay with him. How you would smile and tell him he's silly, how you would kiss him.

Replies from you take weeks sometimes, he knows it’s not on purpose. That you’ll see messages and not have the energy to respond right away and then forget to respond all together. He keeps trying though. Keeps hoping that maybe if he keeps talking to you that it’ll be like you never left.

He stops hoping when you don’t call at midnight to wish him happy birthday. When you only send him one text message at a random time telling him you got busy and you were so sorry you hadn’t had time to respond. You promise to do better when you find the time and tell him you hope he has a happy birthday.

He’s not entirely sure why he fell in love. All he really knows is one day you stopped feeling like everyone else and started feeling like you were his whole world. You hadn’t even done anything particularly attractive by societal standards. One moment you were rambling about your favorite show and explaining the ending to him and the next his breath was getting caught in his throat.

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the day, the weather was dull and unexciting. Filled with grey clouds but no rain. No sun, it hadn’t even been particularly windy or hot. He does remember feeling a chill but that didn’t have anything to do with the weather. One minute he was drinking yogurt and the next his eyes were widening and his cheeks were growing warm.

You had put your hand on his arm as you were getting to a big part of the plot. He looked down at your hand, how warm his sleeve now felt because of the touch. How cold his hands were becoming. Why did he feel so warm? Why did you look so pretty? Wait, what? Pretty? He had never thought about you like that before. Now that he was looking at you now though he had to agree. You were utterly sparkling. There never was anything quite like watching someone talk about something they loved.

“Oh, sorry. I was rambling.” You pull your hand away with a shy smile. He wanted to put it back where it was. Wanted to feel you again but he just shook his head.

“It’s okay, I liked it.” Your face lit up and he knew then and there that what he was feeling was love. He was in love with you. He would do anything to keep you smiling like that, keep you smiling at him. Maybe he should’ve told you at that moment. Maybe if he had, things would be much more different than how they currently were.

You wouldn’t be on the other side of the world and he wouldn’t stop at an apartment to think about what he missed out on.

He never did quite have the courage to tell you how he felt. There were plenty of messages he had typed. Many words dying at the tip of his tongue. Whenever you asked him what was wrong because he had gone quiet for too long he almost let the words tumble from his lips. The words fought at the back of his throat and tried to pry their way through tightened lips.

“Tobio?” You hummed on the other end of the phone. He had been quiet for a few minutes and you thought maybe he had fallen asleep. “Are you okay? Did you fall asleep?”

“I’m okay,” he said. What he had really wanted to say was. I miss you, when are you coming home? When are you coming back to me? I love you so much that I can’t think about anything but you. You’re always on my mind. I think about what would’ve happened in the airport if I had kissed you. Would you have let me kiss you? Please, let me kiss you. I need to hold you again. I miss you, I miss you so much. What he said instead was. “That apartment got rented.”

“The one by the train station?” You had remembered. The apartment by the train station with the pink walls from the previous tenants. The apartment with the window seat with a perfect place to put some plants in the window sill. The apartment you had pictured getting with him, where your cat would run around and pull at strings on your new couch. Where the cabinets would get squeaky from how many times you would open and close them because you forgot what you were looking for. The apartment that was fifteen minutes away from the gym where he would be going everyday to play with his team.

“Yeah, that one. Some couple bought it, they have a cat.” A couple that I pictured was us. That I pictured it was our cat sitting on the window sill. In our apartment.

“I hope they’re happy.” We could’ve been happy if I was braver. He just hums in agreement. “It’s late, I have to be there early. I paid to take some extra classes.” He wishes you would just come home. He wants to tell you everything, can feel the love bubbling up. Can feel it slowly creep its way past his lips.

“I,” he catches it before it goes too far and clears his throat. “I hope you enjoy them. Maybe you’ll gain some brain cells.” You laugh at the joke and if he closes his eyes it’s almost like you’re there again.

“I’m not the one who needs brain cells, you are.” You let out another stifled laugh and he can feel a warm tear roll down his cheek. He wonders if you cry when you call him, if you miss him as much as he misses you. “Goodnight Tobio.”

“Goodnight.” I love you.

He doesn’t see you again until the Olympics. He’s sent you a few messages but both of you are busy in preparation. That doesn’t stop him from freezing when he sees you though. You look as beautiful as the day you left. His breath catches in his throat. Your hair is pulled into a ponytail, he briefly wonders if one of the other players carries extras for you like he did (does). When you turn your head and see him he almost falls to his knees. You’re smiling at him.

On slightly unsteady legs he makes his way over to you as you wave him over. “Tobio!” You call and he sincerely wishes he had been braver years ago. He’s missed this so much, missed you so much.

“Y/N, how are you?” I miss you.

“Good. Got all my certifications now to be a trainer.” I grew apart from you.

“That’s amazing.” Why couldn’t you have grown with me? Why couldn��t you have stayed?

“Hey, let’s catch up later, yeah? The team and I are a little jet lagged.” I have to leave again. I’m not here for you.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Just like the airport, he watches you walk away again. He doesn’t catch the glint of metal on your ring finger, nor the loving look you send one of the players. He just watches as you walk away from him again. If only he had been braver.

It’s after the second day that the two of you finally have time to see each other again. You find him in the cafeteria and sit down across from him. “Tobio! Let’s catch up?”

“Sure, what’s been going on lately?” Why haven’t you come home yet?

“Well, I got engaged.” You hold up your hand and show off the ring to him. He feels his world shatter again. He lets out a quiet laugh to himself. How could he have been so stupid as to think that you would come back for him. That was stupid of him.

“Congrats.” Oh. That’s why you didn’t come home. He puts a hand over his mouth and another laugh slips past his lips.

“What’s so funny?” You ask and tilt your head and lean it on your palm for support. Are you laughing at me?

“I’m not laughing at you. Really. It’s just a funny situation.”

“Why?” Your voice is gentle.

“Because I really thought I was going to marry you. I would’ve if you had stuck around.” You feel your world shatter this time.

“Is that what you were going to tell me the day I told you?” What could we have had?

“Yeah, I was going to tell you I loved you.” We could’ve had an apartment near the train station. Full of posters, a couch with strings coming off from our cat scratching at it. We could’ve had squeaky cabinets from your forgetfulness. We could’ve had dancing in the kitchen while we cook together and food fights because everything is a competition. We could’ve had matching rings on our fingers. We could’ve had us.

“And the airport?” I’m sorry. We missed each other.

“I thought about kissing you. If you would’ve stayed if I had…Would you have let me kiss you?” How close was I to having everything I ever wanted? “I think I would’ve.” All you needed to do was be a little selfish.

also. In my head Y/N went to Argentina and got together with MY husband but you can picture her going anywhere

taglist. @hiraethwa

masterlist

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #tulip writes #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #tulip types #kageyama x reader #kageyama x you #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio x you #kageyama angst #hq angst #haikyu angst

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