#i’m having a rough time understanding where he’s coming from with almost everything these days | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemonlover1110 · 6 months ago

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𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: Satoru makes the biggest mistake of his life. If he could go back in time, he would take it all back in a heartbeat.

Warnings: Heavy Angst, Cheating, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Some Biting, Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Creampie

*This is a commission for the lovely @mew4-ever18. Thank you so much dear, this was so fun to work on❤️ also you can thank her since she wanted me to share with y'all!

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There’s something wrong with Satoru, and you can’t quite put your finger on it– Well, you have an idea of what it is but you don’t want to accuse your fiancé of such an outrageous act of betrayal. He’s coming home later than usual, bearing gifts and stinking of some cheap perfume. He claims he’s working late with his secretary, the company is going through a rough patch and he has to fix it all.

You noticed it from the beginning. One night Satoru came home later than usual and he wasn’t your usual Satoru. He was distant and refused to even make eye contact with you. He was hiding his phone, and was extra wary about where he put it for the night. It happened six months ago, and you were willing to look past it because you loved Satoru and it was surely a one time thing.

Until the next day where the same thing happened. And then a week later. Six months later you’re dealing with the same issue, trying to convince yourself that it isn’t happening. The signs are all there, but you don’t want to question your partner’s loyalty. Truly after making such accusations, everything will be over. So you bite your tongue even though Satoru clearly acts differently for a reason.

“How was work today?” You ask him, clearing the table from the dinner you just had. You surprised him tonight, preparing one of his favorite meals since you knew he’d be home early tonight. You hope that by surprising him with food, he’d come home early more often.

Unluckily for you, Satoru played with his food the entire duration of the meal. He was looking at his phone the entire meal, barely acknowledging your presence. But you’ll attribute it to him having a rough day at work. A rough week at this point… Nevertheless, you’ll find a way to excuse his behavior.

“Can you help me clean up?” You ask him after your question goes ignored, and Satoru barely acknowledges your existence. You’re getting tired of this, and you’re not sure for how much longer you can withstand it. You speak again, your voice much firmer this time, “Satoru, honey, can you help me?”

“Uh… Sure.” He replies, standing up from the table and doing just as you’ve asked. You make some conversation with him, knowing you hold his attention for a small fragment of time and you have to make it count. He gives you vague answers, but at least he gives you something.

Midway through the conversation is like a flip switches in Satoru, and he begins to smile as he speaks to you. He cracks a couple of jokes, and you two begin to laugh like the sweet couple you are. You feel like you’re in the very beginning of your relationship once again. He’s making jokes just to hear your sweet laugh.

Before you know it, you’re cuddling up with him on the couch. You allow yourself to easily forget about his past behavior, simply because he’s acting like the man you love after all this time.

“Was dinner not good? You barely touched your food.” You ask him, and he bites down his lip.

“It was good, I wasn’t too hungry though.” He answers, though he quickly changes the topic. You partially understand why he wants to talk about something else. You’re finally having a good time, he doesn’t want it to change. “When’s your next work trip? I don’t want to get accustomed to having you here.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow for three days.” You respond, and you see a small pout come to his face. You almost laugh at the response, chuckling before kissing his cheek. You don’t understand the response when most nights he isn’t by your side either way, but you still appreciate the reaction. “I’ll be back in no time, babe.”

“I’m going to miss you.” He says, a phrase that is odd to hear from him but it brings a smile to your face. Maybe whatever is going on is fixable. You peck his lips, getting even closer to him.

“You can appreciate me while I’m still here.” You tell him, and within a blink of an eye, you’re on top of him. He’s given you no sign, but you feel the need to try to initiate something with Satoru. You had a consistent sex life with him until recently. The last time you felt Satoru’s touch was three months ago, and it was unsatisfactory to say the least… You hope you can change his mind this way. It’s stupid.

You’re getting frisky, your hands unbuttoning his shirt while you kiss him, full of desperation. You need him. You’re too caught up in your own sentiments, barely noticing that he’s not touching you. You’re doing everything.

He’s not even kissing you back. You’re grabbing his hands and putting them on your ass since you know it’s one of– If not his favorite part of your body. But his hands quickly fall, telling you he’s disinterested.

“Satoru–” You pull away, about to ask why he isn’t even moving. Before a business trip, he’d make sure to remind you how much he loves you– But right now he can’t even keep eye contact with you.

“I’m not in the mood.” He mutters, and you swear you hear your heart break. It feels like this confirms all of your fears and doubts. You just know you’re frustrated. You get off him, and without even thinking twice, you blurt out,

“Are you cheating on me?” Which makes his eyes go wide. He looks at you, offended that you’ve asked that question. As if he hasn’t given you reasonable doubt. But even though the question lingers in your mind, you regret the words that leave your lips.

“How dare you?” He immediately replies, and you feel the urgent need to apologize for what you asked. You still want an answer that’s not his offense. Even though his response should give you an answer, you’re still wanting to hear him deny it.

“You’ve been acting weird– I don’t know what to think.” You try to justify yourself, as Satoru stands up from the couch.

“What? I told you I’m busy with work! But your first thought is that I’m–” Satoru finds himself yelling, and he stops himself. He takes a deep breath to not be too rash. He’s upset, but he won’t yell at you. “I love you so much, why would you even say that? I’ve done nothing but be loyal and cherish you but you’re–”

“You’re acting weird, Satoru! I– I’m sorry that I even suggested that but you’re acting really weird.” You’re tripping over your words, getting nervous during your confrontation. This is something that can completely ruin a relationship, you should’ve bit your tongue and held back on asking the question.

“I can’t even look at you.” He mutters, walking away from you. He’s heading toward the front door, and you can’t stop him. You want to tell him to stop, you can figure this out; however, your voice gives out. Maybe deep down you know that you don’t have to apologize for anything.

The feeling lingers, deep down you know you’re right.

You allow yourself time to think. Time away from Satoru to decide what you want to do with your relationship. Work keeps you busy, but it reminds you of him. You met with him through your work, you were hired to accompany him on a trip and he kept flirting with you until he mustered up the courage to ask you out.

You’re wondering if maybe your work is the reason why he’s acting like this. Maybe you’re overthinking that he’s distant, and he’s actually just worried that someone else will woo you. You’ll think of anything to excuse his behavior, anything to stay on cloud nine when it comes to your fiancé.

During your time away you reflect on your relationship. You need to have a serious chat with Satoru, something that you’ve been holding off on. You don’t want to have tough conversations in fear of hurting him, but it’s hurting your relationship.

You’re losing sleep over your issues, and you can’t stay away for another day. You’re going home early to try and fix your relationship problems, because you won’t be able to properly rest if you don’t fix it.

Luckily, the lights are on when you come home. You’ll be able to speak with him immediately. You hope that by next week this will all be something that you laugh at. Alas, you know that you’ll need to put in a little more work.

You walk into your place, leaving your luggage in your car. You want to talk to Satoru as fast as you can.

You expect to find him in the kitchen, cooking something for himself since Satoru tends to try to make himself something when he’s free. But you guess you’re a little late. It’s past dinner time, he’s not in the kitchen… But he did leave a mess. You’re about to walk past it and check for him in the bedroom, but your eyes fixate on the sink.

Two glasses of wine. One has a red lipstick stain. The son of a bitch lied to you– No, maybe you’re overthinking. Perhaps he invited his mother over for dinner. He’s probably upstairs, too tired to clean up after himself so he left the mess for the morning.

You take a deep breath, using all your might to move your feet. You have to go upstairs to talk to him. You pray that you find him sleeping so you can avoid this whole situation right now– Or that the scene that plays in your mind isn’t happening.

Satoru is loyal to you. Satoru is loyal. You keep repeating the words to yourself as you walk upstairs. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest with every step. You’re getting sweaty, and thinking of the worst when you’re standing outside the closed bedroom door.

You hear it, and your heart breaks. You’re fidgeting with your fingers as you press your ear against the door to listen better. It’s his voice… It’s Satoru. Your Satoru. The same man that got defensive when you confronted him about his loyalty.

A man that you’ve loved so dearly for years, has betrayed you in the worst way possible.

But maybe, just maybe, you’re getting this whole situation wrong. You refuse to cry when you��re probably misreading this situation. Perhaps he’s just watching some explicit videos on his phone, something to kill his loneliness. You crack the door open, and you want to puke at the scene.

A gasp leaves your lips, as if you’re surprised by it all. As if you didn’t already feel this was happening. Tears well your eyes, quickly spilling and falling down your face. He’s not only betraying you, but doing it on your own bed as if it were nothing. The bed that you’ve laid down beside him and shared so many intimate moments.

You make eye contact for a split second before you look at her. The woman that was always so sickly sweet with you is in bed with your fiancé. You always knew that there was something up with her, there was no plausible reason for her to be so nice. You brought up your concerns with Satoru, and he brushed them off.

“You two can go to hell.” You yell, remembering the words that Satoru always told you: She’s no one important, she won’t last long in the company or something along those lines. And yet here she is. You’re holding your breath, unable to exhale until you finally turn around. You hear Satoru call out your name as you begin to walk away.

You try to hold back on crying now, you don’t want to look pathetic in front of them. You’ll simply leave, even though he calls out your name to talk to you. The man that you swore you’d love for the rest of your life has made a fool out of you. With his secretary of all people… How cliché.

“It isn’t what it seems!” Satoru is yelling, trying to catch up to you. You take a swift look at him, rolling your eyes. At least he has clothes on now, that’s an improvement.

You don’t want to entertain him, you just head to the front door as Satoru mutters out baseless apologies. You don’t want to hear it, he’s just spewing whatever to get you to stay. Your hand lands on the cold doorknob, and before you get to turn it, his hand lands on your wrist.

“Please let me explain.” There’s desperation in his eyes, something that would’ve made you drop everything and tend to him ten minutes ago. Right now your blood is boiling, and the only sight that you want to see is a bloody Satoru lying down on the floor– It’s extremely unlike you, but you guess your thoughts won’t be too normal after finding out your fiancé balls deep into his secretary.

“Fuck you, Satoru. Fuck you and your secretary–” You begin before a loud laugh leaves your lips. It’s rare that you curse, but you can’t hold back now. You truly mean it, never in your life do you want to see the man that stands before you. You were ready to devote your entire life to him; yet, this is how he repays you. “I guess you already did, didn’t you?”

“Please, it was nothing.” He tries to explain which makes you scoff. You pry his hand off your wrist and open the door.

“I’m coming to get my stuff tomorrow while you work. I’ll leave the engagement ring on your nightstand.” You tell him before walking away, leaving him behind to yell your name. He mindlessly calls out to you, hoping that you come back to talk to him, but you don’t dare to look back at him.

That concludes your relationship of years with Satoru. A few minutes of pleasure were worth ruining your four year long relationship, and an eternity together. You wipe away the tears that leave your eyes, trying to not feel bad about it. After all, Satoru made his bed, and you can’t change anything about it.

Satoru tries to contact you more times than you can count, which results in him being blocked everywhere. You don’t want to speak to him ever again. You spoke to his parents one last time, and explained everything to them before closing that chapter of your life. You want to completely forget that Satoru Gojo ever existed in your life. In your mind, you want it to be as if you never crossed paths.

You had two weeks of dwelling in sorrow, pitying yourself for your ex-fiancé’s actions before school started. Going back to teach English was actually going to be more helpful to you than you thought. The students keep you busy, managing to push away any dark thoughts from your mind.

You find the school to be a safe space from all the drama that surrounds your life. You don’t have to worry about Satoru trying to get you to communicate with him, and you know that he won’t dare to show up at your work. The idiot somehow found out where you live, and he’s been attempting to send you flowers or other romantic deliveries that quickly get turned down or end up in the trash.

You hate the turn of events. You were practically begging for a more eventful life since everything had suddenly become so dull– How you regret wanting that change. Yet you guess it’s better like this. You should be grateful that you found Satoru’s true colors before it was too late.

“There’s someone that wants to talk to you… He’s at your desk.” Your coworker warns you as you walk to the office. You furrow your brows, picking up the unsureness in her voice.

It’s been nearly two months since everything happened, so Satoru is the last thing on your mind. So you don’t have a problem walking to the office, assuming that it’s a student that is seeking help. Though you’re not too sure about it since most of them are supposed to be in class.

A scoff leaves your mouth when you enter the office and you see the man that you’ve been avoiding for the past two months. As you watch him lean over your desk and inspect every little gadget that’s on it, you realize it’s a miracle that he hasn’t shown up at your door to beg for forgiveness.

He hasn’t realized that you’re in the same room, so you have two options: turn around and pretend like you were never here, or confront him. You want to turn around and avoid him. And you will. But just as you turn on your heel to leave, he calls out your name.

“Can we talk?” Satoru asks, clearly desperate to explain everything to you… But what is there to explain? No matter the reason, what he did is unforgivable.

You want to yell at him, and tell him to get out of your life forever. But your coworkers are standing around and you don’t want to cause a scene. You have to swallow the sharp words that rest at the tip of your tongue. You choose a more professional way to deliver your message,

“Mr. Gojo, please stop contacting me. Next time I receive some sort of message from you, I’ll be forced to file a restraining order.”

He calls out to you again, but you don’t acknowledge him in any way. Your coworkers stare at him, wondering what happened between the two of you, but no one is bold enough to actually ask. For your ex-fiancé to show up at your work to talk, and refusing to speak to him is no small feat. Regardless, no one will ask you and no one is going to dare to speak to the man.

They don’t get a chance either way, Satoru quickly walks out of the office after checking his phone, leaving the place behind. Leaving too many questions unanswered.

“What do you need?” Satoru answers the phone with attitude when he gets into his car. He’s too annoyed to deal with anything else, especially with her. The woman that he broke things off with immediately, yet she won’t leave him alone for some reason.

For some reason, as if he hadn’t started an emotional affair with her– Sure, for him it was purely physical but for her it seems like feelings developed. Even though he tried to fire her (which didn’t work out since she threatened to sue due to an inappropriate workplace relationship with a very clear power imbalance), she keeps trying to call him and act as if their relationship hasn’t ended.

“When are we meeting again?” She acts as if nothing happened. Her voice is so irritating to him, it’s become one of his most hated sounds. He rolls his eyes when he hears her speak, and he has to sigh. He can’t get rid of her completely, as much as he wants to.

“Please refrain from calling me unless there’s a work emergency.” Satoru tries to remain calm. He’s not going to waste his energy by losing his cool on her. By keeping things professional, he hopes that she’ll take a hint and leave him alone. But he’s not so lucky, he’s getting extremely bad karma for his actions. “Is there anything else? I’m busy.”

“We– We have to talk.” She sounds hesitant, though Satoru doesn’t really care. If she wants to never speak again, he’d be overjoyed.

“What is it?” He asks, hoping that it’s something she can say over the phone. He wants to meet as little as possible with her. The line is quiet for a minute before she says,

“Can we please meet in person?” She questions, making Satoru scoff. No way in hell will he willingly meet up with her. His response gives her the answer she needs. She knows he’ll hang up soon so she blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”

“Huh?” His eyes go wide as he processes the words that he just heard. Pregnant? No, that can’t be, he’s always been so careful with her. He ensured she was on birth control and he always made sure to wear a condom. A pregnancy shouldn’t even be possible. “What– You’re not lying to me, are you?”

“I– I’m not. I wish I was.” He can almost hear the smirk that’s on her lips. She tries to act like this is something bad, but he can hear that this is ideal for her. “I swear I’m not lying.”

“What the fuck?” Satoru is pinching the bridge of his nose as he wonders how the hell this happened. He still can’t believe her, and he won’t until he sees a test result right in his face. One that he sees her take.

He absolutely can’t trust her with anything.

Satoru finally decides to leave you alone for the first time in months. You’re still on his mind, but he has bigger issues to deal with right at this moment. Somehow, someway, he’s becoming a father. This wasn’t in the cards for him, especially with someone that isn’t you.

“What do you think about going shopping for baby clothes tomorrow?” She’s resting her head on his lap, talking like she usually does when she’s with him. He’s engrossed with his phone, creating a new account to check up on your social media. Satoru’s given you space since he has a girlfriend now.

He’s not sure if he’s a coward or what, but he can’t do much. He got someone pregnant, so he’s forced to step up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but he isn’t the type of man that’s going to leave his child behind. But he’s for sure the man that secretly looks at his ex’s social media.

“Satoru, are you listening?” He hears, and he hums in response. Though he’s not too enthusiastic, which makes her sigh. She raises her head from his lap and squints her eyes as she looks at him. She doesn’t have to look at his phone to know.

She snatches the phone out of his head and tosses it to the side, making a frown appear on his face. He’s about to protest but she gets on top of him, cupping his face. “You know… I miss you.”

“I’m right here.” Satoru can’t make eye contact with her. He feels guilty by just looking at her. Not because he feels like he owes her anything, but because by looking at her he’s reminded of you. You two would’ve been married now.

“Baby, stop thinking of her.” She says, going down to peck his lips. The sentence would’ve driven any other woman mad, but that’s her reality. It’s been her reality since the beginning, ever since she decided to sleep with a man that was in a relationship. “I saw her last night.”

“Where?” A sudden spark appears in his eyes which ticks her off. She has to pretend like she doesn’t see it.

“She was out with some man.” She’s fighting off a smirk, she can’t seem wicked in front of Satoru. Though watching his expression darken satisfies her. “She’s moved on, you can move on as well.”

“I guess.” Satoru is vulnerable, weak enough to believe anything that goes past him. As long as he gets to hear about you, he doesn’t care if a statement is true or false. Though he doesn’t like the news he’s receiving. “Are you sure it was her though?”

“Yeah. I know so. She’s hard to confuse with someone else.” She answers, and Satoru clenches his jaw. Perhaps it was just a male friend, no one that you’re interested in romantically… Though he did the same thing, and this is where it landed him. “I’m here for you, baby. Me and our baby.”

She grabs his hand and places it on her small bump, reminding him that they’re bound together for life. Satoru is biting down his lip, jealousy consuming him at the mere thought of you with someone else. He almost wants to get back at you. As if you’d get hurt by what he does or doesn’t do. You’ve moved on from him, you clearly don’t care about what he does.

Satoru knows that he’s lost you, he doesn’t win anything by not giving in. He is touch deprived, desperate to feel something more. He’s already sacrificed so much for the few moments of pleasure that the woman in front of him gave him, what’s one more time?

Her lips land on his again, and he doesn’t fight it. But he also doesn’t kiss her back. The situation reminds him of the last time that you made a move on him and he rejected you. He’s so close to shutting his eyes and listening to his dick, but he almost pukes when an image of you pops up into his head.

He can’t do it, not even when he’s trying to get back at you. It’s his bad karma. He ends up pushing her away, telling her, “It’s best if we don’t.”

“What’s the harm in it?” She’s annoyed that he pushes her away. He’s not wrapped around her finger like she thought.

“I’m not in the mood.” He takes a firm stance, and she tries to remain calm. She opens her mouth to speak but Satoru clears his throat, “I think it’s best if we stop whatever we’re doing here. It’s not healthy.”

“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows. Satoru takes a deep breath, thinking of how to land the blow. He knows that she won’t be too delighted, but does he really care about her feelings?

“If we’re going to have some sort of relationship, it’s only a co-parenting one. I’m not interested in anything else.” He says, and she begins to laugh as if it’s some kind of joke. Though it fades when she realizes that Satoru has a stoic expression on his face. He couldn’t be more serious.

“Satoru, I am carrying your baby. You can’t be serious.” She makes a big show of it, putting her hand on her bump. She wants to make it as clear as she can that she’s expecting his child.

“Which is why we’ll co-parent. Other than that, I’m not interested.” He responds, and her hands ball up into fists. She doesn’t understand. He’s already lost everything, what’s the harm of being with her now? He should move on since you clearly don’t care about him.

“What is wrong with you?” She asks, completely offended. How could he not want her? He’s risked everything to be with her, but when he actually can be, he refuses. “We’re having a baby, you’re not with her anymore– We can finally be together.”

“I don’t want to be with you. It’s simple.” Satoru answers, and before a major argument ensues, he stands up. He begins to walk to the door, leaving her behind to yell at the wall. He knows arguing is senseless.

If she wants to escalate the situation, he’s more than willing to settle everything in court.

Satoru is trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s becoming a father, and you aren’t the mother. His secretary is six months along, and time is flying by. The day that his baby is born is getting closer, and he has to come to terms with it soon.

His parents aren’t thrilled by this. They love his son, but they hate that this is the result of an act of betrayal. They dreamed of becoming grandparents but the situation was much different than this. They’ve made their feelings clear to Satoru, but Satoru couldn’t care less. He has his own feelings to account for.

Satoru has his own weird feelings and behaviors to deal with. Like camping in his car, and waiting outside your apartment. He wants to see if you’re actually seeing someone else. With all his other issues, he’s been limited in time. He’s only been able to check up on you through social media, and you haven’t been posting which means he has no way of checking on you. He can’t contact your friends without getting cursed out, and he can’t just reach out to you to ask. Therefore he only has one way to check up on you; even if it’s creepy.

You leave the house at around 8:00 PM, and he’s on the move. You take a cab, and he follows you to a nice restaurant. Outside of it you meet a man. Satoru squints, trying to see every detail of this man. Perhaps it’s some relative that you’ve decided to meet outside a very expensive restaurant. Who is he fooling? You’re clearly on a date.

He still exits the car and enters the restaurant. It’s unlikely for him to get in without a reservation, but luckily Satoru is influential– Even when he isn’t well known, he has money to spare.

He convinces the hostess to give him a table near your own, but your back is turned to him so you don’t see him at any time. He’s listening in, and he feels like a psycho for even being here but he has no other option. It’s a one off situation, a confirmation that you’ve actually moved on before he finally lets you go for good.

He doesn’t know why his heart hurts so much as he hears you laugh with someone else. He fuels with jealousy as he hears the dumb conversation that you two have. You don’t even sound entertained, but Satoru feels his eye twitch. He can’t just pop up at your table and ask you to speak, you’ll for sure ask him for a restraining order.

It’s best if he just leaves, it’s clear that you’re going out with someone else. He can’t do anything else. But just as he’s about to rise from his seat, someone catches his eye. He frowns, seeing the woman that carries his child, arms intertwined with someone else’s.

He watches attentively, trying to figure out if it’s a relative that he’s yet to hear about. He doesn’t really remember anything about his secretary… It was all sexual, and he didn’t care enough to listen to what she had to say about her life. Perhaps it’s a brother– The same stupid way that he thought you were here meeting a relative.

Satoru stands up and approaches their table, genuinely smiling as he sees them, “Good evening.”

“Satoru–” She looks astounded when she sees the man. She looks back and forth between the man that sits across from her, and Satoru. Her face grows red, knowing she’s been caught red handed. But she can play it off, she just has to control the situation before either speaks. “This is Satoru, my boss.”

“Nice to meet you, and who are you?” Satoru extends his hand for the man to take, and the man suddenly straightens his posture. She tries to speak, but Satoru directs his attention elsewhere. He doesn’t care what she has to say, he’s not going to believe her. Satoru doesn’t hear a name from the man, he blocks out everything except the vital word: fiancé.

“Well we– We… We were taking a break for some months and we’re back together now.” She attempts to play it off, and Satoru smirks. Right. As if he was dumb enough to buy it.

“We have a lot to talk about on Monday. Dinner’s on me tonight, enjoy it.” Satoru is sickly sweet with them, overjoyed by what he found out. He walks from the table and breathes a sigh of relief. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He just has to take one DNA test to prove that he isn’t the father, and he’s free of her.

He’s upset to find that you’re not alone romantically, but he’s overjoyed by the news he’s just found out. He might not be becoming a father like he thought.

After finding out about Satoru’s betrayal, you thought you’d never move on. A man that you were ready to devote your life to, threw everything away for no apparent reason– You never asked why, but you don’t care either way. A year later you’re thriving without him, and with a man that makes you happy.

The perfect man that sends you flowers to work weekly even though you’ve been dating for almost a year. A man that’s open to communication, handsome, hilarious and to top it off you have great sex with. You’re still not sure if Akito is the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but you’re pretty comfortable by his side. After all, he fills in all the checkmarks.

You’re preparing dinner with him tonight, singing along to one of your favorite songs as you chop some vegetables and he pours you something to drink. As the song and your voice drowns out, you bite down your lip and you prepare yourself to speak. You've had something in your mind for a while, but you’ve been too nervous to say it.

“I think I’m going to leave the agency.” You tell him, as he slides you a glass of your beverage. He continues his task without saying anything, and you feel the need to explain yourself. “I hate leaving on business trips every now and then. I just want to focus on teaching.”

“I get it.” Akito sounds unphased, and it bothers you. You feel his arms as he hugs you from behind before kissing your cheek. You bite down your tongue, unsure as to why you’re annoyed by this. He should be thrilled since it means that you’ll be around more often.

“Is that all?” You ask, and he hums in response. He lets go of you and grabs a pan to begin his part of the dinner.

“Won’t you miss traveling? You’re going to lose touch with some of your languages.” He finally says, and you purse your lips together. You’re not satisfied by the response. Satoru would’ve reacted differently– No, you can’t compare him to Satoru. Akito would never betray you like Satoru did.

“I can always travel in my free time. Plus, it’d be more enjoyable since I don’t have to worry about work.” You respond, and he hums again. You compare him to Satoru once more in your head, before changing the topic. You can’t compare him to Satoru; after all, they’re on very different levels.

“Hey!” An all too familiar voice calls out your name when you walk into the school. You begin to walk faster to the building, not wanting to speak to a ghost from your past. It’s been well over a year since the last time you saw him, and you intend to keep it that way.

You know he’s following after you, and he’s quickly catching up because of his damn long legs. Just as you’re about to enter the building, he grabs your arm, stopping you from going inside and avoiding him. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you look back at him and look into his regretful blue eyes– And your heart skips a beat like the first time.

“May I help you?” You ask, averting your gaze as guilt quickly consumes you. It immediately feels as if you’re cheating on your boyfriend.

“I heard that you’re not working with us anymore and–” Satoru is stumbling over his words, getting nervous. He should probably ask how you are first, or any other small talk but he knows it won’t help in this situation. He can’t waste a single second. “Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know I did with our relationship… But you’re leaving your job as a translator for–”

“Mr. Gojo, my decision is frankly none of your business. The last time we talked was over a year ago, you have little to no influence in my decisions.” You answer, and he gives you a weak nod. “Did you come all the way here just to ask me that?”

“I would feel like shit if I knew I did something else to make you quit… But I guess you wouldn’t leave the agency just because of me.” He runs a hand through his hair, giving it away that he’s nervous. You feel your face get warm, feeling giddy knowing that you make him feel nervous. But you quickly try to shake away those thoughts.

“I just want to focus on teaching. That chapter of my life is over…” You explain, although you don’t have the need to. “How did you even find out?”

“Heard from a friend of a friend.” He responds before an awkward silence ensues. He should probably speak, but what would he even say? Hey so you remember my secretary, right? The one I cheated on you with? Well she got pregnant and made me believe that it was my baby but it totally wasn’t. That won’t make for great conversation, and frankly it would earn him a punch in the face.

“Will you let go of my arm?” You ask him, and he looks down to see his hand holding your wrist. He nods and lets go of you, muttering an apology for it. You take a good look at his face before turning around to go inside.

“Can we go grab a coffee soon? I’ve been getting counseling and I want to have at least one last conversation with you before moving on.” He says which makes you stop in your tracks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about it…

Maybe it’s what you need. One last conversation with Satoru will confirm your feelings for Akito. It’ll help you move on to the next chapter of your life with your amazing boyfriend. Not getting closure from Satoru is what’s holding you back .

“Are you free after four?” You ask him, and his eyes widen before quickly nodding.

Satoru frantically looks around the café, trying to find a sign of you anywhere. It’s five after four, and he’s sure that you’ve stood him up. He’s a nervous wreck as he waits for you. This is what he considers his last conversation with you, and he knows that once you get to the café, his time with you is limited.

He shouldn’t be too upset about it since you haven’t spoken in a while, but knowing that it’s the last time you’ll talk still stings. He dwells on his decisions, regretting everything he’s done that’s led to this. If only he could go back in time, he’d beat himself up for making such a stupid decision. He let go the love of his life, all for nothing.

He zones out, thinking about you. A warm smile comes to his face as he remembers every tiny detail of you and of your relationship. His times with you were some of the happiest of his life, and his stupid self just had to screw that up.

A snap of a finger brings him back to reality, and he’s overjoyed when he finds you standing in front of him. You bite down your lip as you see your order resting on the table. At least he remembered that.

“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as you sit across from him. You try to act indifferent. As if this doesn’t matter to you at all. You’re here to do him a favor, at least that’s what you’ll make it seem.

“How are you?” He won’t get to the point as easily as he did earlier. He slides your drink, hoping that you’ll take it without a second thought. You glance at it, but you don’t take it into your hands immediately.

“I’m great.” You respond, not asking anything back because you don’t want to seem like you care about him even though you do. You’ve been wondering for days on end how Satoru is holding up. Wondering if he’s moved on, if he’s with his secretary or whatnot. “So you’ve been getting counseling.”

“It’s been a rough year.” He chuckles, and you give him a subtle nod. You can relate, but your year has gotten progressively better. You’re happy with where you are. “You’re always on my mind but now more than ever.”

“I would say I’m flattered but… I’m not sure.” You confess with an awkward laugh. He agrees.

“I haven’t gotten to properly apologize, and I need to do it to move on.” Satoru begins, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I threw away our relationship for nothing. You were the best thing to happen to me, and I messed that up.”

“Yeah…” You feel yourself get emotional, tears welling up in your eyes as you hear the apology. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear it. You thought that never talking to Satoru again would fix your issues, but you feel so much weight lifted from you as you hear his apology.

You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You won’t begin to cry in front of him.

“Why did you do it?” You blurt out, wanting an answer for the reason why he betrayed you. You’ve come to terms that it isn’t for your fault, but you still want to know what prompted him to make that decision.

He stays quiet, which makes you ask, “Did I do something?... Was I not enough in that sense?”

“No! No, you’ve always…” Satoru begins, biting down his lip as his cheeks turn pink. It’s almost embarrassing to say out loud. “The best that I’ve ever had.”

“So, what was it?” You ask, and Satoru sighs. He doesn't really know himself. It was just something that happened and he couldn’t stop once it began.

“I’m an idiot, that’s all.” He admits, and it’s not the satisfying answer that’ll ease all of your worries. But it’s enough. “If I could go back in time, I would beat myself up for even thinking about it.”

“I would too.” You joke, and he chuckles in response. He’d deserve it. “But I guess I’m happy you did it. I’m happy with where I’m at now.”

“Really?” He raises a brow, and you nod, further confirming your words. He looks into your eyes, knowing that you don’t mean it. It’s so easy for him to read you. Maybe it’s because you’re with him, and there’s no way that you’d feel happy sitting across your ex-fiancé who betrayed you, but you don’t look happy. That spark that appears in your eyes when you’re overjoyed with your life isn’t there. “I heard you’ve moved on.”

“Yeah. I’m with this guy named Akito. I met him through work.” You share, and Satoru can’t help but furrow his brows.

“Did you meet through the agency or–”

“The school. His nephew is in my class and we met through a parent teacher conference, since the parents couldn’t show up.” You explain. You finally grab the beverage that Satoru gave you and you begin to drink it. Conversation begins to flow smoothly, and you change to a more lighthearted topic.

You laugh nonstop for almost an hour. Satoru has a lot of flaws, but he knows damn well how to make you laugh. You completely forget that you’ve had a tumultuous past with him. The man in front of you isn’t the man that betrayed you, but simply an old friend that knows you better than anyone.

Though your loving conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you check the time and you realize that you have to go back home soon. You cut him off as he speaks, telling him, “I should get going.”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” He responds as he checks his watch. He got a little carried away, but you didn’t seem to mind. You’re about to stand up, but you take a moment to stare at him.

You bite your tongue, wondering if you should tell him what’s on your mind. Satoru is fun to have around, even if he isn’t your boyfriend or anything like that.

“We should do this again sometime. You might not be the best partner but you make a great friend.” You comment as you stand up. You’re about to walk away, but his voice stops you.

“I can’t.” He says, which takes you back. You’re a bit confused by his response– Is he dating someone? Is that why he can’t become friends with you? No, he wouldn’t have insisted on apologizing if he was seeing someone else. Sure, it gives him ease of mind but Satoru wouldn’t.

Before you can question it, he confesses, “I’m in love with you. I can’t be friends with you while you’re with someone else.”

“Oh–” Your stomach drops at the confession and your breath hitches. Out of all things he could’ve said, he said that. You open your mouth but quickly close it because you can’t say anything. You’re speechless. You point to the door and say, “I have to go.”

All the weight that was lifted off your shoulders after your conversation with Satoru, quickly comes back. You’re laying down next to your boyfriend who sleeps so peacefully beside you. He asked to spend the night and you couldn’t refuse. Yet tonight you keep glancing over, and wondering if you’re happy next to him.

You’re comfortable. Akito is a great man and you can see him being with you for the rest of your life. But do you love him? You knew you loved Satoru within a month of dating him, but you’ve been with Akito for a year, and you’re not sure about your feelings

You just want to curse Satoru out for putting you in this situation. You shouldn’t be questioning your feelings for your boyfriend. You’re happy, that’s enough.

You shut your eyes and lay on your side, trying to fall asleep. You aren’t going to question your feelings for your boyfriend because of Satoru. It’s all some dumb tactic to question your feelings. Satoru knew damn well that showing up at your work, and asking you to coffee will make your feelings come back–

Your eyes snap open as you realize that you’re still in love with Satoru.

“What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” Akito speaks up, and from the sound of his voice you know that he’s been awake this whole time. You’ve been squirming, trying to find the right position that will get the unwelcome thoughts out of your head. You sit up on your bed, reaching over to turn on the light.

“I think we have to talk…”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up as well. You told him that you met up with Satoru, something that he had no issue with until now. Now, he’s absolutely worried. With one swift look at him, he knows. He’s gotten to know you better than you know him.

“I should’ve known.” He chuckles, getting out of bed.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, and he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize for it. You can’t control it.” He says as he begins to get changed in front of you. “It hurts like a bitch but at least we only wasted a year.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, burying your face into your hands. “I didn’t think this would happen. He’s hurt me so much and I–”

“It’s not something you can control, so I’m not mad.” He reassures you, but no amount of reassuring is going to make you feel better for what you’re doing to him.

After breaking up with Akito, you take a week to decide on what you actually want to do. You love Satoru, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should be together. You come to the conclusion that you want to try one last time; you’ve already wasted four years on him, would it hurt to waste some more time?

You contact him first, and you agree to take things slow. So painfully slow for Satoru, but he’ll take all that you’ll give him. He understands why you don’t want to rush things, so he isn’t annoyed by the fact that your relationship progresses slowly– But he’ll admit he’s tired of using his hand all the time.

A year after reconciling, you leave Satoru high and dry. The most you do is make out, and just when you’re moving to the next base, things come to a stop. You go back home, not even accepting the offer to cuddle.

But tonight is the night, Satoru feels it in the air.

He’s cleaning up after cooking you a decent meal while you do something. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but he’s happy as long as you’re near. He couldn’t care less if you’re snooping around or stuffing something into your pockets to take back to your own place.

“Satoru!” You yell, making the man nearly drop a plate. He bites down his lip, knowing that you’re in the bedroom. This is it, he’s sure. But he still has to clean up… Screw it. He can clean up in the morning.

“I’m coming!” He yells, putting the plate down in the sink and nearly running to the bedroom to go after you.

He finds you sitting on the bed, a smile on your face. This is it.

You stand up, taking a couple of steps toward him before your hands meet behind his neck. You kiss his lips as Satoru’s hands go straight to your ass– That’s the most you’ve let him do. Poor guy has suffered enough, at the very least he can squeeze your butt to deal with this torment.

“What do you think if we–” You begin, and he frantically nods which makes you giggle.

You pull away from him, not allowing him to help as you take off your clothes. His hands go to your hips, but they’re quickly slapped away. You don’t need any help, but he doesn’t mind. Even when you take things so slow tonight. He’s not mad that you’re doing things slow tonight, he’s been waiting for so long to feel you, so he’ll appreciate every second of it.

Satoru knows that he loves you, but staring at your beauty like this just confirms it more than ever. What a fool he was to even reject you once. And he almost hits himself as you get naked in front of him. How dare he?

Satoru helps you onto the bed before pecking your lips. Satoru begins to hungrily kiss down your neck, going down to your breasts. His tongue rolls around your nipple sucking. His soft hand caresses your thigh, the mere act making you squeeze your legs together. He hums against your nipple, something that earns a moan from you. A simple moan that nearly makes the man come in his pants… He’s needed you for so long.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says when he unlatches from your nipple. He kisses your breasts before going down and kissing your stomach, praising just how beautiful and perfect you are. He’s never been as lucky as tonight– Or well, the night that you decided to give him another chance.

He kisses down until he reaches your cunt, a smirk on his lips but he won’t spread your legs apart just yet. He begins to kiss your thick thighs, the sudden urge to bite down consuming him. It’s just a tiny bite that makes a small cry come from your lips. But you don’t stop him because it feels so good. He licks his lips, looking at his late night meal.

His head goes down, tongue licks up your folds, almost going insane at the taste of you on his tongue. Satoru spits on your cunt before his lips go to your clit, a moan leaving your lips as you feel his warm mouth on you.

“Oh, daddy. It’s so good.” Your moans sound like music to his ears. He’s sure he’s enjoying this more than you, even when you begin to moan daddy in total pleasure, he’s sure that he’s missed this more.

Satoru’s mouth kisses your clit before detaching, his tongue going down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy. He teases it, while his thumb plays with your clit. He’s already driving you insane, doing everything that he knows drives you insane. He wants your body to feel like it’s on ecstasy. He needs you to think of him and only him when you need some relief.

His tongue goes back up to your clit, circling around it while his fingers gather your slick. He pushes two fingers in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. They’re just so thick and long, it’s hard for you to contain yourself. You can’t help but moan, “It’s so good, daddy!”

It encourages him even more. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making you get even louder than before. Your voice is like music to his ears, and he wants to keep hearing it so he’ll do anything and everything to get a reaction from you. He remembers your body better than he expected, though he doubts that it’s something that he’ll ever forget.

He makes it clear how much he loves eating your pussy, moaning against your cunt with every lap of his tongue. Your thighs squeeze around him as you get lost in your own feelings of satisfaction. He’s going crazy. He can die happily right here.

You’re getting louder as pressure builds up on your lower abdomen, your climax approaching. Satoru feels you squeeze around him, fulfilling him. He’s completing his duty. A duty he should’ve been doing over the years.

He’s glad he’s back in between your legs, tasting you on his tongue. There’s no sweeter melody than you moaning in complete pleasure because of him. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reach your peak, but that doesn’t stop Satoru. He takes his fingers out but his tongue keeps lapping at your cunt, running through your folds but mainly focusing on your clit.

Satoru isn’t stopping until he’s satisfied, which makes you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away. He whines but it doesn’t take him too long to kiss up your body until he reaches your lips. He pecks your lips over and over again until you put your hand over his mouth to stop him.

“I need you so bad, Satoru.” You tell him, and Satoru doesn’t waste a second. He gets undressed in less than thirty seconds, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. He spits on your cunt before running the tip of his cock through your folds before teasing your entrance. You’re not one for begging, but you’re nearly begging the man to put it in. You’re desperate. “I need to feel you, daddy. Please, please, please! I need it.”

Satoru is dying inside because he doesn’t feel you around him. He needs you more than you need him. Right now. Always. Satoru pushes himself in, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he feels you around him.

“You feel so good, baby.” He moans as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. He begins with slow thrusts, one hand on your plush thigh while the other is on your hip. “I missed you so much.”

His eyes are glued to your face of pleasure, and the look on your face drives him weak. You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s crazy for him that you’re actually with him. Satoru moans your name before biting down his lip. He doesn’t want to be too loud, he’ll just look pathetic.

“Right there–” You moan as he begins to pick up speed. His cock hits every right spot, and it won’t take too long for you to reach your peak again after your first orgasm. It feels like he’s doing everything to drive you over the edge, and you can’t complain.

You’re squeezing around his cock, and he feels like this is an out of body experience with how good he feels. His nails are digging into your soft skin as he tries to contain himself. The hand that’s on your hip goes to your clit, he wants to ensure you orgasm again before he finishes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says. You hate the fact that no one will ever please you the way Satoru does. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why you’re getting back together. He goes just at the right speed, filling you with so much pleasure. Satoru does everything in his power to fulfill you.

You’re coating his cock with your juices, moaning loudly as your second orgasm of the night slowly gets the best of you. Perhaps it’s your high talking, but you’re so glad you took him back, and that you’re having sex with him tonight. You have no idea for how much longer you could’ve gone without him.

“Oh daddy– I’m gonna–” You begin to announce but before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you. You drive him absolutely insane, how could he have ever screwed things up so badly?

“Can I–” He begins as his thrusts get sloppy, surprised that he’s lasted this long. You couldn’t give him a more resounding yes.

He swore he was done for when you got naked in front of him. He’s moaning, feeling too good as you’re wrapped around him. He can never go so long without you again– In every manner, truly.

Satoru comes to a stop deep inside of you, grunting before filling you up with his cum. He remains buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. When he pulls out, he lays down beside you.

He brings you into his warmth as he kisses your forehead over and over again. Words can’t even describe how he feels as he lays down beside you. He’s needed this for longer than he thought.

He kisses the tip of your nose before saying, “I’ve missed this so much. You’re so perfect.”

Giving Satoru another chance was one of the best decisions that you could’ve made. Though things took a while to come together, and you don’t blindly trust him like you once did, your relationship is nearly perfect. Sure, Satoru has his flaws but you’re over the moon while you’re at his side.

Things took a while to start up, but then things escalated fast. By a year and five months you were engaged. By two years you were married, which made everyone happy; especially his parents who have always seen you as a daughter. And now after three years, you’re pregnant with your first child.

You’re six months along, expecting a healthy baby. You and Satoru came to an agreement to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, which does cause you to bicker since you think you’re expecting a boy and he badly wants a baby girl. He swears he’s happy regardless.

You’re happy your relationship isn’t stale, like it once was. Truly, every day by Satoru’s side is magical. Though right now…

“Are you almost ready? The venue is an hour away.” You remind Satoru as he decides which tie he wants to wear. Akito’s getting married, and although you don’t have much contact with the man, he’s invited you and Satoru to come; of course, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.

“You can’t rush beauty, my love.” Satoru jokes, making you roll your eyes. He decides to go with a navy blue tie, and he rushes to your side for you to tie it.

“If we’re late, I’m going to be so mad.” You remind him, as you tie his tie for him. You feel his hands resting on your bump, caressing the soft fabric of your dress as a subtle smile comes to his lips.

“It sounds like a dream. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” Satoru says before kissing your forehead. You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be too mad at him when he’s just trying to lighten the situation.

“Can you stop moving?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You kiss his cheek when you’re finished, turning around to walk away before being promptly stopped by Satoru. He wraps his arms around your bump, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Can’t we just stay? Watch a movie or–” He begins, and you glare back at him. “Got it, we have to go.”

“That man helped me through some of my toughest times, the least we can do is go to his wedding and give him a very expensive gift.” You lecture him, and Satoru pouts like a child that’s getting scolded. “Now hurry up.”

“See, you’re hot when you’re mad.” Satoru responds, and you glare at him as if you could kill him. He won’t lie and say it’s not a bit scary, but he’s feeling an emotion that perhaps he shouldn’t be feeling.

You begin to walk away, leaving him to finish getting ready. Even though you’re a pregnant woman, Satoru somehow manages to take longer than you to get ready.

“I love you!” He yells, hoping to calm down the anger that brews inside of you. He should know better than to mess around with your hormonal self, but Satoru can’t help his personality at times.

A sigh escapes your lips, knowing that you can’t leave him hanging as much as he’d love to.

“Love you too, Satoru!”

2K notes · View notes

wendichester · 2 months ago

Note

omgomg could you write a dean x reader where dean angrily confesses his feelings for her in the rain when theyre in a fight after a kinda dangerous hunt?

⋆˙⟡ downpour,

summary. a hunt goes sideways and you end up fighting with dean in the rain. hard.

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; angsty

wordcount. 721

notes. oh, to fight in the rain 🤭

The rain is relentless, pouring in thick, icy sheets, turning the parking lot into a shimmering blur of neon reflections. You’re soaked, your clothes clinging to your skin, hair plastered to your face, but you don’t care. Not with Dean standing in front of you, breathing like he just ran a marathon, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice is sharp, slicing through the downpour, but there’s something else underneath—something raw, something cracking.

You throw your hands up, water flinging from your fingertips. “I was thinking about keeping your dumb ass alive, Dean!”

His eyes flash, something dangerous curling at the edges. “You call that thinking? Running straight into the line of fire like you’ve got a damn death wish?”

“I had it handled—”

“No, you didn’t!” His voice cracks, and for a second, the only sound is the rain hammering against the pavement. Then—quieter, rougher—he mutters, “You almost died.”

Your breath catches, but you shake it off. “And what, like you haven’t done the same for me a hundred times?”

“That’s different,” he growls, stepping closer.

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh, right. Because it’s you, it’s fine. But when I do it—”

“When you do it,” he interrupts, voice dangerously low, “I lose my goddamn mind.”

Your pulse stutters. The fight still thrums under your skin, adrenaline making your limbs shake, but this—this is something else entirely.

Dean drags a hand down his face, water dripping from his jaw. “You don’t get it,” he mutters, like he’s arguing with himself now. “You never get it.”

You take a step toward him, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Then make me get it.”

He exhales sharply, like he’s about to say something, then stops. His throat works around the words, but they don’t come. Instead, he lets out a rough laugh, shaking his head.

“You think I care what happens to me?” His voice is strained, bordering on wrecked. “You think I give a shit if I live or die?”

Your stomach twists. “Dean—”

“I don’t,” he bites out. “I never have.” His hands clench at his sides. “But you?” He looks at you then, and it’s devastating. His eyes—green and burning—are full of something too big, too heavy. “You’re the only thing keeping me breathing.”

The rain beats down between you, and the world tilts, off-kilter, the weight of his words making it hard to stand.

“Dean,” you whisper.

But he’s shaking his head again, jaw tight. “You’re the one thing I can’t lose.” His voice cracks, and something inside you splinters. “So yeah, maybe I’m pissed. Maybe I wanna shake you until you understand that if anything happened to you, I don’t know what the hell I’d—”

He stops himself, sucking in a sharp breath. His shoulders shake, whether from the cold or something deeper, you don’t know.

You step forward, close enough to feel his warmth beneath the damp chill, close enough to see the storm in his eyes.

“I’m right here,” you murmur. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh, but it’s broken, jagged at the edges. “Not yet,” he says. “But you will. One day. And I—”

His voice falters. He looks away, like he can’t stand to hear himself say it.

You reach out, hesitantly, gripping the lapels of his soaked jacket. “Dean.”

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Then, suddenly—

His hands come up, grabbing your face, pulling you in as his lips crash against yours.

It’s not gentle. It’s not sweet. It’s desperate, almost violent in the way his mouth moves against yours, like he’s trying to prove a point, like he’s trying to make you feel everything he can’t say.

His hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your skin like you might disappear if he lets go. You clutch at his jacket, pulling him closer, gasping into his mouth as his breath mingles with yours, hot despite the rain.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you panting, the storm still raging around you.

“I hate you,” he breathes, voice wrecked.

You let out a breathless, shaky laugh. “No, you don’t.”

His grip tightens, just for a second. Then, softer, almost like it hurts, he whispers—

“No. I don’t.”

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bucksangel · 6 months ago

Text

don't blame me (love made me crazy)

Pairing: softdark!stalker!bucky x reader

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: You’ve been stuck in this cabin for a year, and over the course of that time you’ve tried so hard to remember that you didn’t come here willingly. But, Bucky is really good at making you forget that part, until, eventually, you come to believe that this is where you’re meant to be. No matter how you got here.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! Minors DNI, references to kidnapping, full on stockholm syndrome, smut, wet dreams, fingering, oral (f receiving), soft love-making mixed with some roughness, squirting, crying is healthy, a little hurt-comfort, alpine makes an appearance

a/n: this is part 2 to temptation!! However, you don’t necessarily need to read part 1 to understand this, it will just give some backstory. not beta-read so all mistakes are my own.

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

Soft, plush lips are brushing over yours, hands caressing your sides and squeezing every so often, your hips rocking. You’re not quite sure where you are or who is touching you, you can only make out the hazy form above you; bright blue eyes darkened by desire stare down at you. The person pulls back at the same time you feel a pressure between your legs. Upon looking down, you see a toned stomach clenching every time their hips meet the back of your thighs. You’re spread open, gasping and whining as more pressure builds. Slowly trailing your gaze upwards, your eyes roam over an equally chiseled chest, your eyes catching the reflection of light on metal. And that’s when you know who it is that’s currently inside you, but you don’t seem to believe it until you look up further and come face to face with –

Bucky. It’s Bucky, his smile so soft and loving, his breath fanning over your face as he whispers praises into the air. You can’t make out what he’s saying, everything is still too fuzzy, all you know is that you’re about to cum. You can feel it, you can practically taste it, and you’re sure Bucky can tell because he shudders when you involuntarily clench around him.

“Angel,” He whispers, cutting through the fog in your head. You whine, wiggling your hips slightly to get him to go faster. He doesn’t.

“Angel,” He says again, louder this time. You can feel yourself rocking, and more whines and whimpers spill from your lips.

Your body is shaken a little harder, and all at once, the haze is gone.

The haze is gone, now replaced by the soft light of the sun streaming in through the curtains. Upon opening your eyes, you blink slowly, staring up at a smiling Bucky with bleary eyes.

“B-Bucky?” You mumble, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost seven-thirty. I was going to wake you up so we could shower together, but you looked so peaceful that I decided to let you sleep in a little longer.” His smile gives away that he probably knew what you were dreaming about, and the thought makes your face grow hot. There’s a stickiness between your legs, one that you’re desperately trying to ignore as you sit upright.

“Oh, I - I’m sorry,” You say remorsefully, you know how much Bucky likes keeping you on a routine. You’re supposed to wake up at seven every morning, shower with Bucky, and then sit on his lap as he feeds you whatever he made for breakfast that day. So, for him to disrupt your schedule, even by thirty minutes, feels weird. You decide not to question it for the time being.

“No, baby, it’s okay,” Bucky says as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know we did a lot of gardening yesterday so being in that heat probably made you extra tired. But, now that you’re up, why don’t you go ahead and get showered while I make us some food, yeah?”

Even though it’s phrased as a question, you know it’s not. You don’t really get a say in anything, but… but that’s your life now, isn’t it? Not being able to decide for yourself, having no freedom from outside of the confines of this cabin that you’ve been trapped in for… god, who knows how long.

Without wasting much time, you slide out of bed, stopping to give Bucky a smile and a kiss before you go into the bathroom. When you enter, you make sure to leave the door halfway open, another thing Bucky likes. He doesn’t like the idea of a barrier between you two, always needing easy access in case you somehow injure yourself, or he just needs some extra love and doesn’t want to waste time by fiddling with the doorknob.

Your movements are almost robotic as you take off your clothes, once again ignoring the ache between your thighs as you toss your clothes in the hamper. You try not to look at yourself in the mirror, you actually hate doing it. Because the person who looks back at you is supposed to be you. The person in your reflection is supposed to have life in her eyes, her face shouldn’t have a permanent frown etched onto it whenever she doesn’t have to plaster on a fake smile for Bucky.

Except… is it fake? It’s been so long since you’ve seen your friends and family, your loyal customers at the coffee shop you used to hate working at but now would give anything to go back to, you’d happily take the yelling from angry customers over their drinks being wrong than being held in the middle of the woods by a man who desperately needs intense therapy. He told you he used to go before you ‘moved’ in, as he likes to say, but now with you around he doesn’t feel the need to go. He has all of his happiness right in his home every day.

And it’s getting significantly harder to convince yourself that this isn’t what you want, you don’t want to be confined to this cabin and the garden surrounding it. It’s so fucking hard to forget that this isn’t the fairytale romance you had envisioned as a kid, but it’s also hard to remember your life before Bucky. Because he’s just so damn sweet and loving that it’s fucking with your mind, it makes you want to scream.

Bucky goes out and buys you flowers every Sunday, making sure to write a heartfelt message on the card attached to the bouquet by a ribbon. He built a huge library before you got here and let you pick the trinkets and books that would fill the shelves. He even bought gardening supplies after a few months when he realized you were getting too cooped up and gave you access to the space in the backyard.

You like to think that if you met under better circumstances then your relationship would be vastly different. It would be happy for both of you, not just one-sided. However… would it really be so bad to just give in? By now you know you’re never escaping, and you’re tired of being so despondent all the time, you’re tired of dreading another day with your captor.

You’re just tired. Of everything.

It takes effort to pull your gaze away from the mirror, but you eventually reach into the shower to turn the water on. When it’s warm enough, you step inside, letting the hot water cascade over your body and soothe the ache in your soul. And while standing under the stream your mind wanders back to your dream. You’ve been having these dreams more and more over the last few weeks. They don’t happen every night, and it’s not always the same scenario, but the overall theme of the dreams is just the same.

You’d bet you’ve been in this cabin for almost a year, judging by the change in weather reminiscent of when you were taken. And in that time, Bucky has made no sexual advancement towards you. His affection usually consists of kisses, cuddles, and gentle massages when he wants you to really relax. There might be a bit of groping when you’re in the shower together, but he’s done nothing more than that, and that confuses you even more. You figured at first that maybe he was just going to let you acclimate to this new environment before making his move, but he’s done no such thing. He’s been very clear in his pure intentions, has never made you feel pressured into doing anything you don’t want to do.

But why? Isn’t your sole reason for being here to please him?

Once again, it confuses you, and when you move your head slightly some of the water splashes onto your face, knocking you out of your thoughts. Deciding you’ve dwelled enough, you grab your loofah and start washing your body, trying to ignore the ache in between your thighs as you give your legs a cursory wash. And as you continue through your shower, you can hear Bucky’s footsteps on the carpet in your bedroom.

You know that he’s a trained assassin, can sneak up on someone without them hearing anything, but Bucky’s told you he doesn’t want to scare you. He did once when you first got here. He didn’t have any intentions of spooking you, he just wanted to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you while you cooked. But you ended up nearly shrieking and almost spilling the sauce you were making, and Bucky felt so guilty that he didn’t touch you for two days until you convinced him that you weren’t scared of him, you were just surprised because you didn’t hear him coming. So now Bucky always makes sure to walk a little heavier to alert you of his presence.

“Angel?” His voice echoes through the bathroom as he enters, the door opening wider and allowing you to see Bucky’s hazy form from behind the glass shower door. “Are you okay?” Fuck, you’ve probably been in here too long if he’s already done with breakfast.

“Yes,” You say as you turn off the water. Upon stepping out of the shower, Bucky is there to wrap a towel around your shoulders to start drying you off. “Sorry, the hot water just felt nice.”

Bucky chuckles as he rubs the towel over your body, smiling at you the way he always does – that he can never really believe that you’re real.

“It’s okay, angel,” He says as he puts the towel in the hamper and turns to grab one of his shirts that he loves seeing you wear. “But I’m sure my excellent cooking will be enough reason to get out.” At that, he laughs again, and you do too, because his cooking isn’t all that great. He’s gotten much better over the last year, but it could still be better.

“It always is.”

“You’re lying and I know it.” Bucky laughs again and squints his eyes at you, giving you a teasing glare after he pulls the shirt over your head. And it makes you feel at least a little better knowing that he’s self-aware enough to know that.

“Okay, so maybe it isn’t the best food I’ve ever eaten,” You concede, holding onto Bucky’s shoulders to steady yourself as he dresses you in underwear and shorts. “But I’ll still eat anything you make because you made it.” And it kind of hurts to admit, but your sentiment isn’t a total lie. Bucky may be disturbed, but he truly puts all of his love into everything he does, and you can’t deny that he puts so much effort into making you comfortable.

Bucky’s still squatting when you say that, and he lets his hands rest on your hips while he looks up at you with nothing less than absolute adoration.

“And because you love me?” He asks, hopefully. He loves it when you say it, you’re pretty sure it’s his favorite three words he’s ever heard.

Combing your fingers through his hair, you scratch at his scalp a little and force your voice not to waver as you say, “And because I love you.”

The rest of the day goes by as it usually does; Bucky feeds you breakfast with you perched on his lap, giving you kisses in between bites and sighing wistfully every so often. Afterward, you make your way to the library and sit on the bench seat by the window, reading one of the many classics that fill the room for a couple of hours while Bucky goes out to run errands.

Although, if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not really reading. Your eyes are skimming over the words but you’re not processing any of them. No, your mind is still focused on this morning and how real the dream felt, how a part of you that you try to ignore wants it to be real. You try to chalk it up to the fact that you haven’t been intimate with anyone in so long, but the fact that it’s Bucky you’re dreaming about makes you think that it might just be him that you want.

No. Stop it. He kidnapped you. You don’t want him.

As you’re about to give up on reading, you hear the door creak open wider. Looking up, you see Bucky standing in the doorway, shuffling nervously and fiddling with his fingers.

“Is everything okay, Bucky?” You close the book and set it aside, your eyebrows furrowing with worry as you walk towards him.

“I…” He trails off, briefly biting his lip before smiling wide, like a kid on Halloween that filled up his candy bag. “Just come with me.”

Bucky reaches out his hand, and you place yours in his. You’re confused, but go with him anyway. He leads you down the hallway to the spare room – you’re not sure why he included it when he built the cabin, but you’ve never asked why. When you get there, Bucky is practically vibrating with nervous excitement. He smiles at you one more time before opening the door and revealing the interior. And it’s full of cat trees and toys, and you’re momentarily confused as to why he has these before you spot a ball of white fur curled up on a mini hammock.

Immediately, you recognize it as a cat, clearly a baby considering how small it is. Bucky tugs you further into the room towards where the kitten is sleeping, stopping right in front of the hammock and moving behind you so he can wrap his arms around your waist.

“I found her a couple of days ago,” Bucky starts, and you can feel him smiling into your neck. “She was all the way out in the back of the property, shivering and dirty. She’s just so small and I knew I had to take her in before anything happened to her. I brought all the toys and cat trees in just now when you were in the library so you wouldn’t see it. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

And oh what a surprise it is. The kitten must hear Bucky talking because her eyes slowly blink open before landing on you, meowing softly and shifting in the hammock so she can lean her paws on the side and lift up in what you’re assuming is an attempt to get pets. You’re helpless but to pick her up and cuddle her close to your chest, your heart warming with affection when she nuzzles into you.

“What’s her name?” Your voice is soft because you don’t want to disturb her, and she meows again, almost like she’s thanking you for the consideration.

“I haven’t named her yet. I wanted you to.”

It takes no time at all for you to answer.

“Alpine.”

“Alpine?” Bucky sounds curious, and he kisses your temple as he moves to gently scratch behind her ears. “Why that name?”

“I don’t know,” You answer honestly. “She just looks like an Alpine.”

Bucky laughs from behind you, kissing your temple once more and nodding.

“Alpine it is.”

A few days later, you’re in Alpine’s dedicated room playing with her. She’s allowed to free roam throughout the house, but she prefers being in here – or, really, anywhere you are. She’s taken a liking to you, and you to her. She’s almost like a friend to you, someone you can turn to when you get too sad because you know she won’t judge you, she’ll give you kisses and cuddles and make you feel better within minutes. You’re currently lying on your stomach, giving Alpine head scratches and laughing softly when she nibbles at your fingers affectionately.

“What should I do, hm?” Your question is rhetorical, you know she can’t understand you, let alone respond. Still, you like talking to her as though she can. “These… dreams are getting worse. Well, not worse per se, just – more intense. And I don’t know what to do about them. He’s never pressured me into anything, even though I’m fairly certain he does want… that.”

Sighing, you roll over onto your back, letting Alpine crawl onto your stomach and make her way up to your chest so her nose is nearly pressed against yours. And when she meows, you can’t help but smile.

“I don’t know if I want to tell him about them though. I mean, am I even ready? I’ve been here for so long and I know I’m not leaving, and he says he loves me, so I’m pretty sure he won’t make me do anything I don’t want even if I do tell him.” Pausing, you sigh, holding Alpine close to your chest while you sit up.

“What do you think, Alp? Should I tell him?” She immediately meows and lifts up to give your chin a little lick, and you smile at her. “Okay, okay.”

It takes a moment to gather yourself, letting the truth sink in.

“I’ll tell him.”

Despite not having access to any calendars, you’re pretty sure today is your anniversary. Bucky, once again, let you sleep in a little bit longer, staying in bed with you and holding you close while you traded kisses. He cooked up a huge breakfast and placed a big bouquet of roses on your nightstand, even going so far as to massage your feet and calves while you ate. Part of you doesn’t want to ask, because then it would be real. Not only have you been here for a full year, but you’ve been missing for longer than that, and that truth still hurts.

Still, you take everything he does for you gracefully, thanking him for being so thoughtful and trying not believe yourself when you tell him that you’ve never been treated so lovingly. Well, it’s kind of true, despite the fact that you didn’t come here willingly. He really does treat you with care, and his consideration of your feelings – other than the negative ones towards him – is something you haven’t experienced before.

It’s around mid-day when Bucky gives you your first gift. Well, it’s technically a joint gift for you and Alpine – an oversized hoodie with a pouch in front big enough for the kitty to snuggle in so you can carry her around the house with you without actually using your hands. It’s actually extremely thoughtful, and you can’t help but laugh when you notice that the hood has little cat ears on them.

“Thank you, Bucky,” You say after he helps you put it on, smiling wide when he picks up Alpine and helps put her inside the pocket.

“Of course, angel,” He says, also smiling. Then, he grabs his phone, pointing it at you. “Now, let me get a picture of my girls.”

You adjust your position on the couch, sitting up further and making sure Alpine’s head is poking out. Last minute, you flip up your hood, making sure the ears are visible and chuckling when you hear the rapid click of the camera as Bucky takes multiple photos. After he’s done, he pockets his phone again, coming to sit next to you on the couch and wrap one arm around you while he pets Alpine’s head with his other hand.

Everything is quiet for a little bit, both of you loving on your cat. When she starts trying to get out, presumably ready to play, Bucky helps her out of the pocket, then helps you out of the hoodie.

“Bucky?” You’re not sure why, but now feels like the right time to ask. Even though your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Yes, baby?”

“Um…” Sighing, you look down at your hands as you fiddle with your fingers. “I was wondering, um…”

“What’s wrong?” Bucky shifts so he’s facing you, using one hand to lift your chin so you can look at him.

“Why haven’t we had sex yet?” Your question comes out so fast that you’re unsure if Bucky actually understood you, but you don’t want to repeat yourself so you just hold your breath as you await his answer.

“What do you mean” He genuinely sounds confused, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, I just assumed that I was here to… please you. I know you love me, so I guess I’m just confused as to why you haven’t tried to do anything.” You try to breathe evenly, even though your heart is beating so fast in anxiety that you feel like you might pass out. You don’t want to upset him, so you’re hoping he doesn’t take offense to your comment.

Bucky doesn’t answer for a couple of minutes, he just sighs and dips his head low, like he’s thinking over his words carefully. But when he does speak, it surprises you.

“Because you’re not ready. You’re right when you say that I love you, which means I’m going to respect your boundaries. I don’t want to force you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

Tears want to spring to your eyes, because at that moment you know you’re rightfully fucked. He’s just too perfect that you can’t wrap your head around this conversation. You’d never thought of it like that, that he’d want to make sure you’re comfortable with him before taking that next step. And now you know that you want to, you want to give yourself to him in that way. And, now it’s your turn to lift his head to look at you, then lace your fingers with his.

“And… what if I am ready?”

Immediately, Bucky’s eyes widen, and you think you can see a little bit of hope in his eyes. Despite your earlier nerves, you can feel in your soul that you are ready to take the leap, and you can’t help but give him a soft smile.

“Are you sure?” He asks, squeezing your hand in a loving gesture. “I don’t want you to do something just because you think I’m expecting it.”

“I know you’re not expecting anything,” You say, briefly biting your lip. “And I want to, I promise.”

Bucky sighs, then leans forward to press his lips to yours. It’s not an intense kiss, it’s a reassuring one, a kiss that lets you know he wants this too. You pull apart when your stomach starts rumbling, and you’re reminded that you haven’t eaten since this morning.

“Come on, baby, let’s make lunch.”

You’re slightly on edge for the rest of the day, awaiting the moment. Bucky hasn’t made a move yet, so you’re assuming it’s going to happen before you go to bed, and even though you’re nervous, you can’t deny that most of those nerves are from excitement.

And when the clock strikes seven, Bucky leads you out of Alpine’s room and to yours, smiling at you the entire time. Typically, Bucky likes you to be in bed by eight-thirty, but you’re assuming you’re going to be up a little later tonight which is why he wants to start early. As soon as he closes the bedroom door, you can feel your heart beat increasing, and Bucky comes up in front of you to cup your face in his hands.

“Are you positive you want this?” His eyes scan your face, looking for a hint of doubt. He finds none, because you aren’t doubting this. You’re sure you’re not going to regret this.

“I promise, Bucky.” The assuring comment comes out breathy, and your eyes travel down to his lips before looking back up into his. “I’m ready.”

Bucky hums, nodding a little before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. It slowly becomes more intense, your lips gliding against each other as your tongues start invading each others mouths. You don’t even notice when his hands land on your hips until they sneak up your shirt, causing you to squeak.

“Angel,” Bucky breathes out, removing his mouth from yours to glide down to your neck where he presses more insistent kisses, even nibbling on the skin until you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He slides his hands up to your waist, going up, up, and up until you’re prompted to lift your arms over your head so he can take off your shirt.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” He growls as his eyes scan your torso, causing you to whimper and hold onto his shoulders while you press your body closer to his.

“Bucky, please.” You don’t really know what you’re asking for, but Bucky seems to know exactly what you need.

In response to your begging, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal-style to the bed until he lays you down in the middle of it. When he pulls back, he props himself up on his left forearm so he can place his flesh hand on your sternum. Dragging his hand down to your shorts, he toys with the ties, then looks up at you with a questioning look in his eyes.

“Yes,” You say when you realize he’s waiting for permission. “Please take them off, Bucky.”

He groans again, dipping his head low for a minute before undoing the ties and shifting up onto his knees so he can use both of his hands to drag your shorts down your legs. Now you’re left in just your bra and underwear, and you’re tempted to cover your body. He’s seen you naked hundreds of times, but this feels different, and you’re sure it’s because of the more intimate setting.

“Don’t,” He says adamantly, not being mean but letting you know there’s no room for discussion. “Don’t hide your body from me, angel. You’re perfect.”

Tears want to spring to your eyes, and you forget all about why you were so nervous in the first place, you don’t even know why you’ve resisted his love all this time.

“Thank you, baby,” You whimper, bringing up your hand to wipe at your eyes to get rid of the tears. “I… I love you.” And, this time, you know you mean it. You mean it with everything you have.

“I love you too. So fucking much.” Bucky smiles at you, his eyes also watery. He dips down again to kiss you, shuddering when you tug at his shirt. He moves slowly, kissing you for a few long moments until he huffs out a laugh at your insistent tugging at his shirt. “Okay, okay.”

Lifting up onto his knees, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head, smiling wider when he catches you practically drooling over his exposed chest. But then he freezes up, briefly glancing at his left shoulder. And, you realize now that this new intimate setting is probably getting to him too, and you know you need to get rid of those awful thoughts he has about himself.

“Buck,” You say softly, sitting up and placing your hands on his chest. Your right hand travels to his shoulder where his flesh meets metal, and you trace the scars delicately with the tips of your fingers. “Please don’t be ashamed of them. You may not like it, but the scars don’t matter to me. They’re a part of you, and I love all of you.” You can see the tears in Bucky’s eyes as you speak, his bottom lip wobbling a little as he tries not to cry.

“Are you -” Bucky stops himself, sniffles and clears his throat, then continues. “Are you sure? I mean, you’ve seen it before but…”

“But nothing.” Your voice isn’t harsh, but you let him know you don’t want him to argue. “I said I love you, all of you. Don’t you believe me?”

“Of course I do!” Bucky says hurriedly, placing both of his hands over yours and squeezing them close to his chest. “I-I know you do. I love you too.” He sighs, bringing up one of your hands to kiss your knuckles. Then, he gently pushes you back onto the bed, not breaking eye contact as he shuffles off the bed so he can take off his sweats and boxers.

When they’re finally off, Bucky crawls back onto the bed, stopping at your hips so he can toy with the band of your panties. You nod at him when he looks to you for consent, and he keeps looking at you as he drags them down your legs, only breaking your gaze so he can focus on maneuvering your feet out of them. It seems like he wants to get going, but then his eyes travel to your bra-covered chest and he switches gears. Knowing what he wants, you arch your back so he can undo the hook and then you lay back down so he can throw it off to the side.

And now, you’re both naked, Bucky hovering over you and looking at you through teary eyes. He places his flesh hand on your stomach, trailing his fingers up to your breast so he can tweak one of your nipples.

“Bucky, please.”

“Don’t worry, angel,” Bucky says softly, dipping down to kiss your lips before kissing down your neck and collarbone, then stopping at your other breast so he can nibble on it. “I’ve got you, I’ve always got you,” He whispers into your skin.

“I know.” His eyes flick up to yours at the confirmation, and he smirks a little to himself as he bites down on your nipple, causing you to whimper.

Despite your wiggling, he takes his time kissing over your chest, going down your stomach until he has to slide down the bed so he can come face-to-face with your pussy. You spread your legs of your own volition, and Bucky groans in appreciation, nuzzling his nose into your lower lips and breathing deeply.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” He nearly growls, shifting so he’s laying between your legs and placing his flesh hand on your thigh to keep you spread and using his metal hand to pull your other leg over his shoulder. “Is all this for me?” He asks, referring to the slick dripping out of your pussy.

“Yes, all for you.” You reach your hand down and card your fingers through his hair, prompting him to look up at you. “Only for you.”

Bucky swallows down his emotions, nodding at you one last time before diving in. He takes one more deep breath, nudging his nose along your folds, then using his flesh hand to spread them apart. You gasp when he drags his tongue from your quivering hole to your throbbing clit, and you’re hit with the overwhelming knowledge that you won’t last long. You haven’t been intimate with anyone – let alone had time for yourself – in so long, and Bucky seems to realize this when he pulls back just enough to mumble, “Cum whenever you need, baby. Give it to me.”

He continues, dipping his tongue into your soaking hole, thrusting it in and out a few times before going up to nibble and suck on your clit. You don’t even realize that you’re now a blubbering mess, whining and moaning and squirming in Bucky’s hold as you feel your release build. And, you’d be embarrassed with how fast you’re about to cum considering how not-long you’ve been at this if not for Bucky’s groans of appreciation. You’re unconsciously tugging at his hair too, pulling him closer, but then your hand tightens when he suddenly prods his forefinger at your hole.

Immediately, you tense up a little, because, despite how wet you are, you’re still really tight. And Bucky’s fingers are big, so it takes a bit of shushing and sweet kisses to your thighs for you to relax enough for him to fit his finger in, but only just until the second knuckle. He pauses, letting you adjust to the intrusion, which you’re grateful for. He wiggles it a little, sucking and kissing your clit until you relax enough for him to push his finger in all the way, then pull it out so he can push it in again.

He keeps at the tortuously slow pace, carefully opening you up until he can fit a second finger in your pussy. Your breaths are coming out faster, you’re almost panting at this point as he speeds up until he’s truly fingering you, really giving you what you need. And right when you feel like you’re about to explode with pleasure, Bucky wraps his lips around your clit, bites down softly, and then sucks as shoves in a third finger and stabs at that special spot deep within you.

“Bucky! Oh, fuck, yes!” Bucky will gloat later about how loud he made you scream just from his fingers and mouth, how you squirted all over his forearm and chin. He’d also admit that he nearly blew his own load at your taste, but he wanted to save his release for you.

It takes a few long moments to come down from your high, and when you do, you see Bucky up on his knees looking down at you while fisting his cock.

“Are you sure you want this? We can stop if it’s too much.” You know Bucky doesn’t want to stop, but you also know he gladly would if you asked him to, which is how you know you want to continue.

“No stopping allowed,” You breathe out, smiling at him a little when he chuckles. “Now, please get inside me or I’ll cry.”

“There’s no need to cry right now, baby,” He says, leaning over you to prop himself up on his right forearm and grab the base of his cock with his metal hand and guide it to your entrance. “But you will be crying by the end of the night.”

You surge up to kiss him, biting his bottom lip and grasping his shoulders to brace yourself. Bucky groans, and you lay back down so you can stare into each other’s eyes as he pushes in slowly. Again, he seems to understand that even though you’ve just cum harder than you can ever remember, you’re still a little tight – especially since he’s easily the biggest man you’ve ever been with.

It takes a couple of minutes until he’s buried fully inside you. You’re whimpering while he’s biting his lip, letting out little groans. Placing his metal hand on your thigh, he spreads you open further, though not too far as to hurt you. Carefully, he pulls back, letting you get used to the movements when he pushes back in.

And it goes like this for a bit, Bucky fucking you slowly until you start wiggling your hips and clutch his shoulders.

“Pl-Please, Bucky. I – Faster.” You know you sound pathetic, but you can’t find it in you to care, mostly because your mind has floated off into space as you soak in the immense pleasure.

Bucky listens to you, taking his time in picking up the pace until you’re sure you’re about to break. He keeps mumbling praises the whole time, telling you how you’re so fucking beautiful and thank you for trusting me and god, I love you so much.

Lifting up your left leg, he places it over his shoulder, and every so often he’ll force his hips flush with the backs of your thighs and grind his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at your sweet spot and causing you to moan loudly. And, he was right, because the longer it goes on the more tears you can feel pooling in your eyes until they start streaming down your face.

“Bu – Bucky,” You can’t help but whine, your breaths coming out uneven as you try to control your emotions.

“It’s okay, angel,” He says, just this side of condescending. His tone sends shivers down your spine, and you have to force your eyes from closing because you want to see Bucky’s face for this. “I know it’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, fuck, you’re – Ah! You’re so big!” You can see through your hazy vision that he’s smirking, though you can tell he’s close to crying too. He’s always been emotionally open, always telling you how he’s feeling and encouraging you to share yours as well. Which is why you’re comfortable with being so vulnerable in front of him.

“Are you close?” He asks, his breathing speeding up as his hips do too. “Fuck, angel. Tell me you’re close.”

“I am!” You’re practically screaming at this point with every powerful thrust he gives you. To an outsider, it may look a little like he’s breaking you apart with his cock, but you know the truth. He’s putting you back together, making you whole in a way you’ve never been before. “Cum with me, please!”

Bucky groans and shudders, gritting his teeth when you dig your nails into his shoulders. Nodding, he adjusts his position so every thrust has his cock stabbing deep within you every time. And you place your hand on the side of his face, making sure he’s looking directly at you when you clench down purposefully, and he shouts at the same time you do, letting go at the same time.

You don’t know what happens after that, all you remember is having the most intense orgasm of your life and then suddenly you’re waking up cuddled into Bucky’s chest, the sky outside now dark as the moon sneaks up into the sky. Wiggling a little, you realize Bucky cleaned you up, but you can still feel the remnants of his cum inside you, and you relish in it.

“Bucky?” You mumble, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?”

“Just past ten,” He says softly, kissing the top of your head then lifting your chin so he can look into your eyes. “You don’t regret this, do you?” You can tell he’s nervous, that he really wants your answer to be no.

“I don’t.” You lean up to give him a lingering kiss, sighing into each other’s mouths before pulling away just enough to stare into his eyes as you say, “I’ll never regret being with you.”

And, finally, you mean it, because you realize now that this is the love you’ve always wished for. Bucky takes care of you in a way you both know no one else can, and you can only hope he knows that you can take care of him too. You’ll love him deeply, and you’ll give him the life he deserves.

temptation taglist: @mayreblogsstuff / @raging-panda / @wintrsoldrluvr / @myfavbuckyfics / @watchoutforyelener / @lauratang / @esotericgalaxy / @mayusenpai666 / @buckets-and-trees / @fandoms-writings

#let me know what yall think!!#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barns #bucky barns imagine #stalker!bucky #bucky fic rec #my writing #my stuff

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noira-l · 5 months ago

Text

𝙱𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Caught between the echoes of a love that once felt unshakable and the shadow of someone Satoru can’t let go, you’re left wondering if you’ve become invisible to the man you gave everything to. As the cracks in your bond deepen, you question whether love is enough — or if it’s time to let go of what’s already gone. How do you hold on when it feels like he already let go?

𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 — satoru gojo x gn reader (mentioning satosugu)

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜 — heavy angst, relationship problems, lack of communication, fading love (?)

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 — 3,8 k

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 — I don't know if this will appeal to anyone, it's quite bittersweet and not necessarily healthy. It's literally bitter. This short text has been sitting in my archive for a long time so I decided to publish it at last, at most I will delete it. Though I wish to thank everyone who took the time to read it.

𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟸

You don't know what tempted Satoru to offer you a date back then.

You now think he shouldn't have done it.

You can’t remember the last time you felt truly happy. Not fleetingly, not a passing moment of contentment, but deeply, unwaveringly content.

The school lay in hushed stillness at this hour, its usual clamor dissolved into quiet. You sat at the farthest desk in one of the classrooms, one leg folded beneath you, cradling a cup of coffee between your palms. The bitter scent curled into the air, threading itself through the lingering traces of chalk dust and the aged scent of worn wood.

On the blackboard, yesterday’s equations - half-erased, yet unwilling to disappear. Much like the emotions you had tried to brush away, faded but stubborn to dissapear. Your fingers traced the rim of your mug, thoughts drifting as lazily as the steam rising from the dark liquid.

It had been a long time since Suguru left. Back then, everything had felt raw and unbearablethe, sting of betrayal still fresh in the air. And yet, in the aftermath, in the quiet spaces left behind, you and Satoru had grown closer.

It wasn’t something you consciously decided. It wasn’t something you had to think about, figuring out how to approach him. It was as instinctual, as natural as reading the air in a room or sensing the unspoken shifts in someone's mood. With Satoru, though, it was more than just intuition, you could almost say it was understanding. A deep, unspoken bond that had grown stronger with time.

You always seemed to know when to come and talk, even when no one else dared. On those rare days when his usual cocky grin faltered, when the sparkle in his eyes dimmed just enough for someone paying attention to notice, you were there.

Sometimes it was at the vending machines, where he leaned heavily against the metal, his lanky frame somehow looking smaller than usual. You’d saunter up with a casual air, hand already fishing for coins in pockets.

"Need a sponsor for your sugar addiction today?" you’d tease lightly, holding up so his eyes peeked over the rims, something glimmering in the pale blue that spoke of exhaustion he’d never admit to.

"Nah." he’d reply, running a hand through his hair, as if to brush away whatever weight was pressing on him "I’ve got this one. Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m a charity case."

But you’d stay, letting the silence between you stretch just long enough to be comforting, not awkward. You’d watch as he punched in the code for some brightly colored soda. The machine whirring noisily before the can clattered down. Without a word, he’d grab a second one, tossing it to you with an easy grin.

"Payment for standing there and looking cute." he’d say, back to his usual self, but there was gratitude in his tone, unspoken but clear.

There were other times, though, when he needed more than a soda and some banter. Like the evenings after particularly rough missions, when he’d show up at your door unannounced - his hair a mess, tense shoulders and tired grimance. You’d let him in without a word, offering him your couch and a cup of tea, because somehow you just knew that tonight wasn’t the night for jokes.

He’d sit there, cradling the cup in his hands but not drinking, staring blankly at the wall as if he were somewhere else entirely. As if he needed to void out. You’d sit beside him, not too close, but just enough for him to know you were there. And when he finally spoke - his voice low, words heavy - you’d listen. Really listen. You never interrupted, never offered solutions unless he asked. Sometimes he’d talk for hours, sentences disjointed, something like a rambling, and sometimes he’d only manage a few broken phrases before falling silent again.

When he needed rationality and logic, you were ready with facts and plans, gently nudging him back to a place where things felt manageable.

When he needed humor, you’d crack jokes, your timing always impeccable, drawing out a laugh even on the worst days.

And when he needed affection - though he’d never say it outright -you gave it freely. A hand on his shoulder, a hug that lasted just a little longer than usual, a touch that reminded him he wasn’t alone.

So when he offered you a date, you agreed.

And when he asked if you would become his partner, you were on cloud nine.

Back then, he was just Satoru to you. Not the invincible sorcerer everyone else saw, but a boy, with too much energy and a habit of getting powdered sugar all over his shirt when he ate donuts. A boy who, for all his teasing, could lean against a wall and talk about Digimon for hours with an enthusiasm so pure - it made you fall even harder. A boy who, when you had a bad day, would wordlessly pass you a soda with a cartoonish wink, somehow knowing that was all you needed.

First year was magic. Satoru was charming, generous, and, despite his flaws, someone you loved wholly.

He’d take you to convenience stores late at night, pointing out the most absurd snacks with an exaggerated pitch to his voice, pretending to be a food critic. He'd tease you endlessly at vending machines, pressing every button until the machine threatened to short-circuit, just to make you laugh. Once, he'd insisted on racing you through a grocery aisle, your cart stacked precariously high with ramen and energy drinks. You'd lost, of course, but his cackling laughter had made losing feel like winning.

But slowly, the boy you loved had begun to feel more like an idea. A projection. A shadow of something that wasn’t meant for you.

Four years went by.

You remember what it was like to be young.

Set on everything with determination and a willingness to fix thing. Back then you had the ambition to do it, back then you wanted it.

Now that you're older, you don't have the strenght for it.

Obligations, bills, work and life - everything is weighing you down. Nanami was right when he said that small despairs make you an adult.

And you have a relative abundance of them.

It's no longer about the responsibilities themselves, because you're able to handle that easily, but about the fact that things are no longer the way they were.

You squeeze your cup tighter.

You won't last like this for much longer.

Lately, nothing feels the same. There’s a hollowness, like the echo left behind when all the love you poured into something spills out for nothing. Joy has become elusive, a bittersweet phantom haunting you, like the sugary snacks you occasionally buy to share with Satoru. Those treats, so deceptively sweet, leave a bitter aftertaste that lingers on your tongue and in your heart.

You don’t know when it started to fall apart. Maybe it was never whole to begin with - just a beautiful facade waiting to show its true colors.

Satoru has always been a man of revelations, each one peeling back another layer of who he is. Over the years, you’ve seen both his brilliance and his shadows. Yet, in all of his contradictions, there is one constant he’s shown you: his faithfulness.

The tragedy lies in its direction.

Because Satoru’s faithfulness has never been to you.

Not truly.

You can’t compete with the ghost of his best friend - the same best friend who set a village ablaze, who shattered him with his final words, and whom Satoru has never stopped loving.

It wasn’t obvious at first. The truth revealed itself in fragments, like shards of glass glittering in the aftermath of a wreck. It began innocuously, in the quiet of your shared nights. The first time you crossed that invisible line and slept with each other, you heard him murmur a name in his sleep. Suguru. At first, you thought it was a nightmare. Your boyfriend told you he had them often, and you believed him. But then, one night, you heard something different. A whisper, soft and reverent "Love you."

And then, as though to leave no doubt - "Suguru."

He never used that words for you.

You dismissed it, telling yourself that dreams are strange and inexplicable things.

But as the months passed, you began to notice things that your infatuation had blinded you to before.

Satoru, who could talk endlessly about himself, rarely asked you anything of substance. Sure, he might throw out a casual "How was your day?" now and then, but he never delved deeper. Never asked about your thoughts, your passions, your dreams. You told yourself it was just his nature - that he was too talkative to stop and listen. Yet, you remembered how he used to ask Suguru about everything. Suguru’s favorite soda. His opinion on Digimon. Every little thing.

But you? He never bothered to know you like that.

Even his touch, once comforting, felt distant. Satoru was happy to drape an arm around your shoulders or hug you playfully. But the moment you reached for him - tried to touch him with intention - he’d often pull away, as if the intimacy was too much. Once, you rested your head against his shoulder while he scrolled through his phone. He tensed, made an excuse, and shifted just far enough away that the moment dissolved into awkwardness.

Slowly, the cracks grew wider. You began to scrutinize every word, every gesture, every gift. His presents, once a delight, now felt hollow. They lacked thought or care - impersonal trinkets that might as well have been for anyone. When you finally mustered the courage to mention it, his response stunned you.

He shrugged "Suguru would’ve appreciated it."

He thought you hadn’t heard.

You started to wonder if you were a placeholder - a convenient balm for the gaping wound Geto had left behind. A temporary shelter where he could rest and heal, before moving on to something, someone, better.

You sighed, taking a sip of your coffee. Bitter taste filling your senses.

How fitting.

Then there were other signs. The way his conversations always circled back to him - his laugh, his thoughts, his preferences. His hair routine, his clothing choices, his music taste. You remember them all.

But what about you?

You started noticing how little he asked about you. Your opinions, your likes and dislikes, your routines - none of it seemed to interest him the way Geto’s had. You once mentioned your favorite book, and he’d brushed it off saying "Suguru liked that one too."

He didn’t even ask why you loved it.

The bitterness grew, but you pushed it down. You tried harder. You gave more.

Maybe if you just loved him harder, he’d see it. Maybe if you proved yourself enough, he’d understand.

But no matter how much you gave - your patience, your time, your quiet sacrifices - it was never enough. No matter how much there was on your shoulders. He’d just brush it off, as if none of it really mattered. As if you didn’t really matter.

You thought back to that day on the stairs. You’d been carrying too much - boxes of documents stacked high in your arms, the weight pressing down as exhaustion dragged at your limbs. The day had already been endless, your body running on fumes. And then, a misstep. The world tilting. Papers scattering. The sharp sting of impact rattling through you.

Shoko and Utahime had rushed over immediately, their concern written in the furrow of their brows, in the way their hands found your shoulders, steadying, grounding.

And Sator, your dear boyfriend of few years?

He had stood at the top of the stairs, hands in his pockets, that ever-present grin curling at his lips - like it was all some joke, like you weren’t biting back the burn of frustrated tears as the girls helped you up.

"Clumsy as ever, huh?" he’d quipped, the words light, teasing - cutting in a way they hadn’t been meant to.

You’d laughed too, because what else was there to do? A weak, hollow sound that barely scraped the surface of your exhaustion.

Shoko had leaned in, voice low, a quiet tether pulling you back from the edge "He’s an idiot."

And you had nodded, forcing another awkwarda laugh, pretending it didn’t sting. Pretending you weren’t still waiting for something more.

Or the time on the bike trip, when he’d sped ahead without a second thought, leaving you struggling at the back. The wind whipped against your face, your legs burned, and the distance between you stretched farther and farther. He never once glanced back. By the time you finally caught up at the end - breathless, frustrated, fighting the ache in your limbs - he only grinned, ruffling your hair like you were some kid tagging along.

"Took you long enough. You’re so slow - come on!"

Like it hadn’t mattered. Like you hadn’t spent the entire ride cursing under your breath, wondering why he never once thought to wait.

Or that evening outside the archives. You’d been carrying stacks of documents, arms trembling under the weight, your balance precarious with every step. The workload had been heavy that day -too many records to sort, too many reports to file.

And then, just your luck - Satoru happened to be passing by. He stopped, hands tucked into his pockets, watching you struggle with that same insufferable ease.

"Need a hand?" he asked, his lips curling into a lazy, teasing smile.

Relieved, you nodded, expecting him to take some of the load. Instead, he only laughed, stepping back as if the thought had never been serious.

"You’re stronger than you look. You’ve got this!"

And then he walked away.

You stood there for a long moment, the weight in your arms pressing down heavier than before, something inside you sinking just as much. It wasn’t until Ijichi came running up minutes later - breathless, flustered, immediately taking the papers from your arms - that you realized how much the interaction stung. You wanted to cry after that day.

You clenched your jaw at the memory, fingers tightening around the cup.

You couldn’t brush it off as teasing - not anymore. Not after everything. Not after the way each remark, each careless dismissal, began carving into you, deeper and deeper, until the wounds felt too raw to ignore. You knew he didn’t mean to hurt you. Satoru wasn’t cruel to you. But he was careless in a way that cut sharper than deliberate malice ever could.

You tried to talk to him. Over and over again.

You tried to bridge the growing distance, to make him see what his actions did to you. You told him how you felt - how his words made you feel invisible, unloved.

He always listened. Always apologized. Always promised to do better.

"I’m an idiot sometimes." "You know I care about you." "You know I love you, right?"

Did you?

Because sometimes, he did do better. For a little while. But it never lasted.

And the worst part? There were still days when he surprised you - when he remembered the smallest detail about you, something you never expected him to notice. When he wrapped you in an embrace so warm, so achingly genuine, that for a moment, you almost believed things could go back to the way they were.

Those moments used to be sweet.

Now, they were bitter - tainted by the quiet, sinking knowledge that they would never last.

You started to think you were a burden, and a burden to him. To his world, to his perfectly constructed image of his bestfriend who is long gone.

Eventually, you stopped trying.

It wasn't a sudden decision. It was a slow, quiet thing - a gradual erosion of effort, of hope, of whatever was left inside you that still believed things could change.

So you did what you had always done best: you worked harder. You buried yourself in tasks, taking on extra responsibilities, pushing for promotions, negotiating a better salary, securing better insurance - things that had tangible results, things that didn’t depend on someone else’s willingness to care. You spent late nights hunched over papers, your fingers stiff from typing, mind too exhausted to wander to the places it used to. The ones where you still hoped.

You told yourself that if you kept yourself busy, if you filled every moment with something else, the ache in your chest would dull. That if you distanced yourself, if you cared less, it would hurt less.

It didn’t.

You didn’t think Satoru would notice. Not really. He had always been good at missing the things that mattered. But lately, there were signs—small, almost imperceptible shifts that told you someone had gotten through to him.

It wasn’t you.

It was your friends. The ones who saw what you had long since stopped voicing. You knew this because one evening, while passing by an open window, you overheard a conversation that wasn’t meant for you.

"You don’t pay attention to them at all, do you?" Shoko’s voice steady, unimpressed.

"What? That’s not true." Satoru’s response came, lighthearted and quite defensive.

"It is." there was no hesitation in her tone "They stopped trying, and you didn’t even notice, right? You should’ve."

You had stopped walking then, the weight of the words keeping you frozen in place, listening to a conversation you shouldn’t have been hearing.

"I—" he started, then fell silent.

"They never ask anything from you, and you take that for granted. They don’t complain when you don’t have time, they don’t whine when you’re busy, and they never expect you to put them first." a pause, then a quieter, sharper addition: "And you just let them disappear."

You had moved away before you could hear his response. You knew Utahime scolded his as well. Nanami also happend to add a few remarks where he could. It didn’t matter anymore. But still, you're glad they're trying.

You knew Satoru had little time. You had never once faulted him for that. You had never admonished him, never whined or complained -not to him, not to anyone. You weren’t someone who needed constant reassurance, weren’t someone who demanded attention. You understood how much he carried, how much the world expected of him.

And maybe that was the problem.

Maybe you had been so careful not to be a burden that he had forgotten you needed things too. For so long, you had been the one to reach out. The one to bridge the gaps. The one who tried, and tried, and tried - until one day, you realized you didn’t even know how to anymore.

So you've stuck here. Distanced emotionally and physically.

You didn’t start conversations with him anymore. You didn’t go anywhere anymore. If he asked, you refused, always citing work as the reason. It wasn’t even a lie. You had more than enough tasks to keep you occupied - endless stacks of reports, backlogged documents in the archives, additional responsibilities you willingly shouldered just to ensure you had something to do. Something that kept you from dwelling on the widening gap between you and him.

Anything to make you forget about the boy you fell in love with.

Shoko and Utahime noticed. Of course, they did.

"You’ve been busy lately." Utahime had commented once, watching you as you skimmed through paperwork over a cup of tea.

"You okay?" Shoko had asked, her voice quieter, more careful.

You had smiled. "Yeah, just a lot of work." and you got back to it without another word. You never elaborated. Never let on that your workload wasn’t the real reason. But they weren’t fools.

Because everyone saw it.

They saw how your expression shifted whenever Satoru entered the room. How your voice lost some warmth when he spoke to you. They saw the way your posture stiffened, how the exhaustion in your eyes sharpened whenever he draped an arm over your shoulders or tried to inject lightness into the air.

And maybe that was the worst part. That he still tried. That he still threw his arms around you, still cracked his jokes, still playfully nudged you, like nothing had changed.

Did he not see it? Did he truly not notice how the spark of amusement that used to be there had long since flickered out?

Or did he notice, and just pretend not to?

You didn’t know which answer would be worse. But either way, he didn’t stop.

He would still come find you at work, leaning casually against the edge of your desk, rattling off whatever was on his mind - missions, food, something absurd that had happened that day. And you, out of politeness, would respond. Not with the teasing banter you used to return so easily, but with something neutral, something enough. Sometimes you would ask a question - just to avoid silence. Just to make it seem like you weren’t completely closed off.

But you were. And if he noticed the difference, if he felt the weight of the silence growing between you, he never let it show.

So now you’re sitting here, in class, alone. Like every morning.

Coffee sits between your hands, its warmth seeping into your fingers. It’s bitter, too bitter, the way work coffee always is - but you drink it anyway. You’re used to the taste.

These mornings are never quite the same.

Some days, you sit in complete silence, your expression unreadable, your thoughts somewhere far away. Retracing steps, rewinding memories, searching for the moment where it all started to slip - where the warmth faded, where the distance began.

Other days, tears slip down before you can stop them, disappearing into the wood of the desk, vanishing like they were never there at all. On the worst mornings, you sob, quiet and restrained, shoulders shaking under the weight of something too heavy to name.

And then there are mornings like today. Mornings where you smile - bright, convincing, almost effortless. You tell yourself that you’ve accepted it. That this is just how things are. That you tried everything, exhausted every option, and this is simply who he is.

You tell yourself that you can live with it. That it’s fine. That it doesn’t hurt. You pretend. Pretend that everything is okay.

And the kicker?

You’re sure he’s not going to do anything about it. You’ve distanced yourself, drawn the lines, left enough space between you that even he should notice. And yet, you don’t expect him to react. Not really.

Because deep down, you wonder if he even sees it. If he’s aware of what’s slipping away right in front of him. If he even cares.

And maybe - maybe this was always inevitable. Maybe this is just what love turns into. Not the explosion of anger or betrayal you once feared, not a dramatic ending wrapped in sharp words and finality, but something slower. Quieter. A slow erosion of what once was, until all that remains is something unrecognizable.

The door creaked open, and you stiffened, hastily wiping at your eyes before turning away, pretending to focus on the coffee cooling between your hands.

Satoru stepped in, his ever-present grin faltering slightly when he saw you.

"Hey." his voice was light, easy, too easy. Like he was testing the waters "Thought I’d find you here."

You forced a smile, the weight of your mask settling over you like a familiar friend.

"Morning."

He pulled out the chair beside you, sinking into it with that same practiced casualness, legs sprawled, arms draped over the back like he didn’t notice.

"I brought you something." he reached into a small paper bag, placing it on the desk between you.

You opened it to find a box of sweets. The wrong ones. Again.

"Thanks." you murmured, setting the bag aside.

Satoru frowned and hesitated. His fingers drummed against the desk once, twice. His gaze flickered over your face, searching.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." you said still smiliing, the lie slipping out as easily as it always did.

And like always, he accepted it without question.

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annarobszombies · 19 days ago

Note

hiiii could u write a one shot or something in which the reader/oc is senku's older sis and is a x stanley one pls ty. Fluff if better i was thinking when they revive him for the moon mission

Absolutely I can

Stanley x Senku's Older Sister

This was harder than it had any right to be

Warning: Manga Spoilers Ahead

It had been an accident, you hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. But spending 100 days being dragged around with him as he chased your brother and his team to South America did something to you. It forced you to understand him, to learn who he was and who he had the potential to be in the future. You looked past all his sharp edges and rough words and found something worth holding onto.

You spent night after night talking to him, somehow going from sitting far away, to being right at his side with his arm snaked around your waist and your head on his shoulder.

You told him about your and Senku’s parents deaths, about living with Byakuya, and what it was like being constantly compared to your little brother by others. And in turn, Stanley would talk about growing up with Xeno, making his devotion to the other man grow clearer and clearer.

Though, when you jokingly called their relationship romantic, Stanley’s nose curled in a way that told you it really wasn’t like that.

But as your relationship grew, so too did your fear of what happened when Stanley finally caught up with Senku. He’d started this trek across the world determined to kill him for taking Xeno hostage, and yet the two of you had become close. You would have to pick a side, and though you knew that there was no way you’d abandon your little brother, leaving Stan behind was going to hurt.

You loved him, and you think maybe he loved you too. At least a little bit, anyway.

He almost kisses you the night before the world is petrified for a second time, and it’s the only thing you can think about while trapped in stone for the next several years.

You remember how his fingers had felt, warm and rough with callouses from years in the military. How he’d caressed your face in a moment of pure quiet between the two of you, before tilting your chin up so that you were forced to look him in the eye. The heat in his gaze had made your heart jump into your throat. His other arm had curled around your middle, pulling you into his chest and holding you there for what felt like an eternity, but as you both leaned in, you’d been interrupted and forced apart with a promise of next time.

Except next time didn’t come. Not for a long while.

Stanley doesn’t get freed from the stone like the rest of you do. He instead just gets thrown onto a ship and stored away where only a few knew where he was, you being one of them.

You find time to visit his statue every day after working on the rocket, talking to yourself about what was going on as if he were listening, and keeping him tidy. He owed you a kiss, and Senku an apology at the very least after all.

“I’m sorry, we’re freeing who?”

The whole group is shocked at the announcement. Not only was Ryusui giving up on going to the moon, but he’d offered his spot to Stanley of all people.

“It makes logical sense,” Xeno says, Senku nodding along with him. “Stanley is the world's greatest marksman, and he’s an experienced combat professional. He will no doubt be a great asset on the moon.”

“But he tried to kill all of us!” Chrome says, and even you have to agree. Stanley may have shoved you out of the way that day, saving you but he’d been hellbent on gunning everyone else down. Just because you loved him, that didn’t mean he wasn’t still dangerous.

“We are no longer on different sides. Stanley is a soldier who will follow all orders given to him to perfection,” Xeno says.

“I suppose we could call this atonement,” Kohaku muses. “For everything he’s done so far.”

Your heart is hammering hard in your chest. They were going to wake him up, and not only that, they were sending him on the most dangerous mission ever concocted. You couldn’t figure out whether you were excited to see him, or devastated that you may never lay eyes on him again in your lifetime.

Your startled from your thoughts at the sound of your name.

“Are you coming, my dear?” Xeno asks, head tilting slightly.

“Yeah, sure,” You say, hoping you sound nonchalant. You had a feeling he’d caught on to your affection for his right hand man a long time ago, and the way he smiles slightly at your response buries that idea even further into your head.

You follow slightly behind everyone else while you get your thoughts on the matter in total order. Xeno seemed to know, or at least suspect, that you and Stanley had formed something, but was he the only one? Or had you been way more obvious than you thought you were? It wasn’t a big surprise that Senku hadn’t questioned it, assuming he also figured it out. He’d always stayed out of your relationships, claiming that they never mattered to him in the slightest.

It feels a little strange to have so many people in the cave with you, but you figure the numbers aren’t a bad thing. If Stanley wakes up and chooses violence before hearing anyone out, the more people there to stop him, the better.

He’s changed out of the vines that had been hurriedly thrown on him so long ago now and into a new outfit made for him by Yuzuriha, and you watch with bated breath as Xeno pours the revival fluid over him.

The waiting is the worst part. Sure, the revival fluid so far had a 100% guarantee to work, but what if this time it didn’t? What if the stone stayed solid, instead of cracking and crumbling away? What if Stanley never breathed again, and you’ve forever lost the chance to build something with someone you cared so deeply about?

But, as expected, the stone does crack and crumble, and Stanley does suck in a breath, letting it out slowly when Xeno offers him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Few words are said between him and Xeno, even fewer between him and everyone else. It’s only after Senku confirms Stanley’s absolute skill that his eyes drift past the two scientists and land on you. His gaze flits across your form, a tiny smirk growing at the corner of his mouth.

“Hello beautiful,” Stanley finally speaks to you after what feels like an eternity, his words sending heat to your cheeks.

“Hi,” You say back softly. Senku lets out a soft ugh, and makes quick tracks for the cave entrance.

“You two do whatever this is in here, we’re going back,” He says. Chrome and Tsukasa hesitate before following Senku, and Xeno is the last to leave. He pats your shoulder as he walks by, offering you a small nod before he, too, vanishes from the cave.

The two of you stand in silence, the only noise being the waterfall and the distant sounds of birds beyond the watery doorway. You watch Stanley take a couple more drags of his cigarette before dropping and snuffing it under his boot.

“You gonna come over here, or are you gonna make me come to you?” He asks, and it’s like a switch finally flips in your brain.

You jolt forward, running the handful of steps it takes to reach him and slam into his chest. He doesn’t stumble back, doesn’t even seem to budge at all when you do, his form firm and steady. You wrap your arms around him, inhaling a long breath, letting the stench of his freshly put out cigarette fill your nose. You feel his chuckle more than you hear it, the sound vibrating in his chest as he holds you in return.

“I missed you,” You whisper. Stanley lets out a low hum in response.

Your heart falls into your stomach when he pulls away from you, but he doesn’t allow you to sink into despair. Both his hands rise to cup your face, his clawed gloves cool against your heated skin. His eyes have the same heat as the night he nearly kissed you.

“Missed you too,” He says softly.

You start to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance. He dips his head and presses his lips against yours. He kisses you like he’s been starving for it, like it was all he’d been able to think about for all that time he spent petrified a second time, and it leaves you totally breathless and feeling a bit drunk.

“Th-this doesn’t make up for shooting my little brother,” You blurt out without thinking. It makes him laugh. Not chuckle, not hum, laugh.

“That’s fair,” He says.

“Can you do it again?”

“Gladly.”

#dr stone #doctor stone #stanley snyder #stan snyder #stanley snyder x reader #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fic request #one shot

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soursturniolo · 1 year ago

Text

Hurtful Words • Nick Sturniolo

Synopsis: Nick and his boyfriend get into a fight the night before leaving for Boston. After some of the harsh words from Nick, his boyfriend is left hurt and uncertain of his place in his boyfriends life.

Pairing: Nick x male reader/character (no y/n but also no other name used, he/him pronouns)

Tags: angst, hurt, a bit of sunshine!reader x grumpy!nick, nick has a panic attack, comfort (happy ending because I guess I'm not 100% evil yet)

Nick had been extremely stressed all day. Nothing was going right, first he woke up late and missed his meeting. Then, he went to edit a video they had prefilmed to post while him, his brothers, and his boyfriend would be in Boston, just to discover the SD card was corrupted and nothing could be salvaged from it. Next, he developed a horrible headache as he was rushing to finish up packing for the flight tomorrow morning. Now, he was getting ready to film a replacement video with his brothers right as his cheerful boyfriend strode into his bedroom. Fuck , Nick thought to himself. He had forgotten his boyfriend was coming this early.

“Hey!” his boyfriend smiled as he made his way over to him, arms open for the usual hug they’d share. Most always, his boyfriends sunny disposition made him smile, but today it just made him irrationally angry.

“Hi,” Nick responds flatly, not meeting his partners eyes as he dodged the hug and affection being offered. If Nick had been looking up he would have seen the look of confusion and concern flash across the other man’s face as his arms lowered to the side upon seeing that Nick clearly didn’t want a hug.

The other man frowns as he takes in Nick’s disheveled appearance, hair sticking up from most likely stressful tugging, a clenched jaw and tense shoulders. Knowing Nick for almost a year now, he knows his boyfriend isn’t one to immediately talk out his feelings, so he doesn’t ask but quickly concludes it must have been quite a rough day for the brunette. Usually in these situations, they’ll cuddle and relax and watch some stupid TV show, so that’s what the man suggests. To which, Nick scoffs.

“I don’t have time to just lay around with you, I need to go do my job, I have so much shit I need to do before tomorrow,” Nick gripes, moving around to grab the camera and SD cards off his desk, stuffing them into a bag to take to the car where he’s sure his brothers are already waiting for him. In packing he’d lost track of time, looking at his phone to see its already 17 minutes past the time they said they’d meet in the garage.

His boyfriend nods in understanding, seeing the obvious stress practically pouring out of every pore of his boyfriend. He reaches out a hand, gently touching Nick’s arm, trying his best to sooth him.

“is there anything I can do to help?” he asks softly.

“Jesus Christ!” Nick exclaims, feeling overwhelmed by everything all at once, like his skin is on fire and every little thing makes his head pound even harder, yaking his arm away from the other man’s touch “yknow what actually, there is. Just leave me the fuck alone for two seconds!”

The man frowns slightly, taking a step back at Nick’s sudden outburst, wrapping his own arms around him, head cooking to the side minutely.

“we’ve been apart all day? I’m just trying to help, I’m sorry sweetheart,” he says softly, trying to give him a soft smile, which just makes Nick scoff and roll his eyes again. A deep frown paints his boyfriends face at the reaction, the man tightening his arms around himself, shoulders hunching in slightly.

“And you come in here all fucking smiles and hugs. you’re just happy all the fucking time. Just this fucking ray of sunshine. Some of us fucking aren’t. Maybe this just wasn’t a good idea.” Nick spits out, his words venom. Part of his brain is yelling at him to shut up seeing the hurt look spreading over his boyfriends face, but the angry voice overshadows that one, just wanting everyone to feel has horrible as he feels.

“What? What isn’t a good idea?” the man asks him, voice small, fearing the answer. Did Nick mean him coming to Boston along with his brothers to finally meet his parents? While he had been nervous about meeting his boyfriends parents at first, in the past few days he had become quite excited. Thinking of meeting his family, his family dog too. He had bought gifts for them all, even a chew toy for Trevor. Even today, the young man had found himself daydreaming at work, thinking of how well it all might go, imagining them all sitting around a table looking at photo albums and smiling as he learns more about the past of the man he so desperately wants a future with.

Nicks quick response has those hopes shattering, along with his heart.

“This. Us. I don’t know. I just need to fucking breathe. I’m leaving to film with Chris and Matt. Bye.” Nick half yells, voice strained as he stalks his way to the door, yanking it open and slamming it shut as he leaves, leaving a tearful man standing in the middle of the room wondering where it all went so wrong.

Nick was distracted the whole entire time they were filming, overcome with guilt and regret. He had been so harsh to his boyfriend, his number one supporter, next to his family of course. Flashes of the other man’s hurt face flicker in his mind, the timid and soft nature he had taken on as Nick raged at him, a shadow of the mans usually bright and bubbly demeanor. Even when he was short with him at first, instead of just leaving, his sweet boyfriend had still apologized and compassionately offered help. And what did Nick do to show his appreciation? Told him callously that maybe them dating had been a bad idea.

That wasn’t true in the slightest. They’d been together 7 months at this point, and it had been some of the happiest months of Nick’s life. He’d experienced a happiness that he never thought he’d get even remotely close to again, and this was how he repaid the man? Throwing his cheerful and sweet nature in his face as if it was something to be ashamed of? It made him sick to his stomach to recall how he’d behaved.

Noticing their brothers distraction, Matt and Chris suggested cutting the video short, under the guise of wanting to get on good nights sleep before their early flight home. The drive home was quick and quiet as Nick thought of all the ways he’d apologize to his sweet boyfriend who had a heart almost too good to be true.

The brothers quickly said goodnight and parted ways, Nick taking the stairs two at a time to get to his room so he could ask for the man’s forgiveness. Upon opening the door, he’s met with disappointment. He had left. Nick knew he shouldn’t be surprised though. As he pulls out his phone to call the man he knew he had hurt, a bag on his bed catches his eye, along with a note. He peaks in the bag, confused upon seeing four boxes wrapped in a plain purple wrapping paper, as he picks up the letter, recognizing the handwriting and feeling his heart clench painfully in his chest as he begins to read.

Nick,

I’m sorry, I never meant to upset you. I know I can be a lot, and I understand if it’s gotten too much to deal with. I was really looking forward to seeing Boston and meeting your family. But it’d be silly for me to tag along now, at this point. I had gotten some things for your parents, Justin, and Trevor. I was hoping you’d maybe give them to them for me?

Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back for my plane ticket if it’s too late to cancel it.

Thank you for the last 7 months, they meant the world to me. You did, too.

Nick feels tears gather in his eyes, beginning to stream down his face as he sits the letter down and quickly scrolls to his contact on his phone.

"please, pick up, pick up, pick up" he mutters, sniffling as he waits and hopes he'll answer. A shred of hope blooms upon hearing his call answered answer, the soft noise of a car engine in the back. Good, maybe his boyfriend hadn't made it home yet.

"baby?" Nick sniffles slightly, voice cracking. He hears the man on the other end of the line sniffle too, and he feels his heart crack a little more. he'd made his sweetheart cry.

"what do you need, nick?" the other man asks softly and tearfully.

"I need you. please turn around, I know you’re still in the car. I'm so sorry," Nick pleads.

"it's okay Nick," he sniffles, "just give those gifts to them, please?" he asks.

"no, I'm not," Nick cries, tears streaming down his face, one hand clutching his hair as the other clutches his phone against his ear, sagging against the wall and sliding down it into a heap on the floor, his chest feeling tighter and tighter.

"okay, I'll get them back from you when you guys get back home," he offers, which just makes Nick cry harder. He really fucked up this time.

"no, no you're supposed to give them to them, I want you to, I want you to turn around and come back here so I can tell you how fucking sorry I am and kiss you and watch a stupid movie with you and then we get up and we go to Boston tomorrow morning and you get to meet my family and see where I'm from and everything and they'll love you and your little gifts and your smile that can light up a room and they'll love you because I love you," he pleads over the phone, desolving into sobs on the phone.

the other man on the line tears up again at the sweet words and obvious remorse, and he wants to respond to them but Nick is spiraling in regret and sadness and he can hear that it's getting harder for him to breathe through his cries.

he turns the car around, beginning to take a shortcut back to the triplets house.

"Nick, I need you to breathe," the man says softly, hearing the loud cries through the speakers of his car.

"No, I'm not Nick, you never call me nick when we're alone, its always Nicky or sweetheart or babe," the brunette sobs, still feeling like his relationship is slipping through his fingers, and it's his own fault.

The man grips his steering wheel a little tighter, driving a little faster.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, I just need you to breathe for me, in your nose and out your mouth real slow for me okay? you know that box breathing technique I showed matt a few months ago?" he softly asks Nick.

"Yeah," Nick sniffles, breathing still shaking and disordered.

"Good baby, I'm going to count and I want you to breathe with me okay? I'm almost there but I need you to breathe for me until I get there, okay?" He asks softly.

As he continues to drive, he counts off and listens as Nick breathes with him, slight sniffles still present as he tries to focus on getting his breathing regulated with the knowledge that his boyfriend is coming back.

Nick doesn't even register the sound of his boyfriends car turning off or the sound of him using his house key to get in. his head jerks up to look up from his spot on the floor to see his boyfriend standing in his doorway. He quickly moves from his position on the floor, getting up and launching himself into his boyfriends arms.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean a fucking word I said," he sobs, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend tightly and burrowing his head into his neck, his tears wetting the skin. His boyfriend holds him just as snuggly in his arms, rubbing a soothing hand over his back as the other hand cups the back of his head softly.

"I know, its alright," the man sooths, but the words have an opposite affect on Nick, as the brunette pulls back quickly as he shakes his head.

"It's not alright! I was mean because I had a bad day and my head fucking hurts, and I hurt you. You didn't deserve that. I love you, and I love your personality and how loving and happy you are. It isnt something I or anyone should throw in your face. I should have talked to you, I should have thanked you for wanting to help me. I'm so sorry, ill be better, I'll get better at talking to you and communicating and not just blowing up at you for no reason," Nick sniffles, roughly wiping away his own tears.

"Okay, I forgive you," the other man offers softly, as he gently pulls Nick's hands away from the rough rubbing of his face.

"No! You shouldn't just forgive me, why are you being so nice right now?" Nick objects, confused by his boyfriends behavior as more tears make their way down his face.

The other man smiles softly and sadly, guiding his boyfriend over to the bed and sitting, pulling Nick down to sit right next to him. He gently guides Nicks head to rest on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around the man in a comforting embrace that Nick easily allows himself to be pulled into, the closeness easing the pain and regret in his heart.

"Let me ask you a couple things, okay? Maybe that'll help you understand why I'm forgiving you?" he offers, carding his fingers though Nick's hair softly, as he feels Nick nod and whisper is consent into his shoulder.

"Do you genuinely regret how you treated me?" A quick and firm nod from Nick.

"Do you see how hurtful your misplaced irritation can be?" Another firm nod and squeeze from Nick's arms around him is felt.

"Do you genuinely plan on working on communicating with me and being better in the future so this doesn't happen again?" Another nod and squeeze.

"Do you still love me and want to be with me, and want me to come to Boston with you?" This receives the fastest nod and squeeze of all the questions, making the man smile and turn to press a soft kiss to Nick's head.

"See. You acknowledged and took ownership of what you did wrong, you plan to work on being better, and I know you're genuinely sorry and regret hurting me the way you did. I trust you, so I trust what you say and the fact that this will not happen again. We will deal better the next time," he explains softly to the man in his arms.

"Okay. I promise I'll do better, I love you," Nick hoarsely whispers against his shoulder, cuddling more into the other man's side.

"I know, I love you too," Nick smiles wobbly as he hears those words and feels another kiss pressed against his head. He leans up, softly pressing his lips against the man's jaw, then his cheek, then thr corner of his mouth, smiling when we feels the skin move under his lips into a matching smile. Then, Nick presses their lips together in a soft and gentle kiss, trying to convey all the love and warmth he feels for the man in his embrace. His own ray of sunshine.

author's note: hey! i hope yall enjoyed! if you have any nick requests feel free to send em my way! im slowly but surely getting back into writing and i really want to write more for nick :)

no tag list on this post because I'm getting ready to redo my old tag list since most either aren't active anymore or have new usernames

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfiction #nick sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x male reader #nick sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo angst

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lesservillain · 1 year ago

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—ii. gotta promise not to stop when i say "when"

cw: more grumpy eddie, a lot of piss talk (sorry)

an: credit for the edited picture of eddie goes to itsscarrlett and the picture of jason patric is implied to be sam.

Tears sit on your lash line as you pull up to the Munson house today. Parking on the side, just out of sight to “keep your car safe in case unwanted visitors show up,” you lift your head, willing the tears not to fall before going inside. It’s already been a tough week for them, the last thing you need is to bring your own dramatics into their lives. Normally you could let things slide off your back, but the customer’s that had come into CoffeeHouse today were demanding at best, cruel and abusive at worst all week.

“Damnit, Ed!” You hear Wayne yelling from down the hall as you open the front door with your key, given to you on your first day earlier this week.

“Hi,” you squeak out as the older man storms past you and into the kitchen. He does a double take, a wild look in his eye at someone else being in his home, calming down once he realizes it’s you.

“Hey there, darlin’. Didn’t think you’d be here so early today.” He has an almost clean plate in his hand, save for some untouched veggies that look like they taste like cardboard.

“I’m sorry, I can come back later if—”

“No, no, you’re fine. Did ya get outta class early or…?”

“No, Friday is my short day,” you say, swinging your bag over the back of the couch and letting it land on the seat cushion. “I came from work. It was…rough, so I left a little early. Sorry I should have called first.”

“It’s alright,” he assures, turning to walk into the kitchen where you follow him. “I just gave Eddie his dinner so he’s still awake. Gonna need to give him his pain meds before I go. He’s been in a sour mood all day, complaining about…uh,” Wayne ducks his head bashfully, not wanting to look you in the eyes.

“Well I guess it wouldn’t be weird for you to hear it given your profession and all, but he’s, uh, been complaining about it hurtin’ when he pisses.” His voice trails off, barely audible over the sink being turned on as he cleans Eddie’s plate.

“Well, that’s not good,” you say with concern. “Has he been drinking a lot of water? Staying hydrated?”

“Yeah, yeah—well, as much as he’s willing to drink. Been trying to keep him from sippin’ on sodas all day, but the ice maker in this fancy fridge hasn’t been working for some reason lately and he wont drink the water if it’s not cold.” Wayne lightly bangs his fist on the side of the fridge.

“What about his urine? Does it seem like it’s darker than normal lately? Or cloudier than normal?”

“Uh…maybe? I’ll be honest, I’m not really lookin’ at his piss when I’m dumping the urinal for ‘em.”

You give an understanding hum, sympathizing with him. It has to be awkward, everything he’s had to do for his nephew since he came home from the hospital. There’s nothing that you want to do more than help them out. But, there is one big problem that’s been keeping you from doing so: Eddie.

Eddie will not let you come in his room, let alone take care of him. He makes Wayne get him set up for the night before he leaves, and then stays in his room with the door shut for the rest of the night. You still haven’t even seen him since you first came on Monday. Any time you’ve tried to come in, even just to check on him, he’s pulled his covers over himself to hide away from your view. The most you��ve seen is a few tendrils of curly hair illuminated by the light of his tv when you peaked in before going to sleep.

It felt like housesitting more than taking care of anyone. You almost forget you’re not there by yourself, the sounds of Eddie’s bed creaking when he adjusts it or the light sound of his TV playing being the only reminder that you’re not alone.

“Do you think he may let me go in there and…check?” You tilt with a shrug of your shoulders. “Like instead of you dumping it, maybe I could do it? Just to see if I notice anything abnormal. If he has a UTI and it’s bad enough that it’s bothering him, he may need an antibiotic.”

“He needs a swift kick in the ass if you ask me.” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter. He opens a cabinet and grabs Eddie’s medications for the night. “But, I’ll see what I can do. He’s not in the best mood for negotiatin’ right now, but I’ll see if I can get him to give. Gotta let you help him out sooner or later.”

You nod, waiting at the end of the hall as he talks it out with Eddie. There’s a bit of a back and forth between them, muffled by the living room TV playing behind you.

You wondered if Eddie would even let Wayne take him to the doctor if he needed to go. He’s clearly very stubborn, but you’re sure a lot of his anger must come from being in pain from what happened to him. It's hard to blame him for not trusting people after how this town treated him, but you wish he would at least give you the chance to prove yourself.

After a few moments, Wayne walks back out with a not so promising look on his face.

“No dice,” he sighs, hands slapping against his sides before sliding into his jeans pockets. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you shrug, “maybe he’ll warm up to me someday.”

“He better. He can only keep up this ornery attitude for so long.” Wayne eyes the clock on the wall behind you, taking a half step back into the hall. “D’ya mind if I take a shower right quick? I did a little yard work outside and I don’t want to feel all sweaty at the machine tonight.”

“Of course! I’ll keep an ear out for him if he rings.”

“Thanks,” he takes the few strides toward the bathroom, calling out before he goes inside, “The food on the oven should still be warm if ya wanna help yourself!”

The mention of food has your stomach growling. It had been such a busy day you struggle to remember if you even ate anything at all, and chicken parmesan that sat in the glass container looked mouth watering. The smell of the savory dish had you making a plate so quick you almost dropped the new glassware on the floor.

You were just about to take a bite when the tingle of a bell rang from his room. Your head perks up, eyes widening in disbelief.

Just as quickly as you made your plate you abandoned it, moving hastily until you reached the slightly cracked door. Muffled groans could be heard from inside of the room, your hand flexes over the door handle.

“Um, Eddie?” The groans stop. It's silent besides the sound of his TV. You grab the handle, pushing the door open slightly.

“Eddie, it’s—“

“Go away.” His strained voice is stern, stopping you in your tracks.

“I-I’m sorry, I heard your bell—“

“I said go away.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You back away from the door, pulling it until it's cracked once again.

But you don’t move from the door. Rather, you do what you normally do in these situations. You think. Think about how you should have stuck up to him. You should have told him that Wayne is busy, that he either gets your help or no help at all.

You also think of a kinder scenario, where you’re able to walk in, peel his covers back and tell him it’s okay, that he can trust you, if he would just give you a chance.

The sound of the bathroom door opening startles you, making you take a step back from the door in front of you. Wayne walks out with a puff of steam, looking down the hall towards the living room, then down to you. He gets spooked seeing you there, shaking his head and his hand flying to his chest.

“Everything okay?” He asks with a worried tone.

“Um, Eddie’s bell, he rang it. But he didn’t want me so—“

“Jesus,” Wayne exhales, “Okay, thank you for trying.” He walks past you and opens Eddie’s bedroom door. “Boy!” You hear him say just as the door closes. The rest of the words are muffled as they go back and forth, and you take that as your cue to go and finish your dinner.

The night was going just the same as it had been the last few nights this week.

“…I have a date to play this morning,” Dorothy declares as she enters the kitchen. Blanch yells out “With a man?!” in shock.

“No, with a Venus Flytrap.” Dorothy retorts with a roll of her eyes.

You laugh at Dorothy’s quip, the late night replays of the Golden Girls keeps you distracted as you half study for an anatomy test. It’s been your favorite subject so far, but it’s still proving to be difficult even this far into your schooling. Your book sits open in your lap, sitting on top of your blanket that you’ve brought from home while you sit cozied up on the Munson’s couch.

You glance up at the clock on the wall that reads just a little past 11pm. You groan, closing your book and sliding off the couch to the floor. You grab your bag and open it, pulling out your clean uniform and laying it out on the back of the couch for your opening shift. You go through your night routine and check the front door locks before getting yourself settled on the couch for bed.

Just as you get settled under the covers, you hear the soft tingle of a bell from down the hall. You jolt upright, looking down the hall where Eddie’s TV illuminated the small crack in his door. Did you actually hear his bell? Surely he knows Wayne went to work tonight, right?

The bell rings again, more aggressively this time and you respond by practically sprinting down the hall, almost tripping on your blanket as you go. You’re about to burst through the door, but stop yourself in time to remember to knock, hand on the knob to keep the door from opening.

“E-Eddie?” You call into the slight opening.

“...yeah,” you hear, less muffled than what you normally hear from him.

“Can I come in?”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again.

“Yes, please.”

Carefully, you push the bedroom door open. It’s dark, barely visible thanks only to the TV in the corner. As you step in your eyes adjust, landing on the form in the bed that is Eddie. He’s still mostly covered by his piles of blankets, but you can see a pair of eyes with the glare of the light hitting them looking straight at you, the rest of his face covered with his comforter.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, immediately cringing at your actions. “Um, how can I help you?”

Eddie blinks at you, unmoving. The covers over him suddenly rise, pulled down just enough for his arm to snake out, his whole body shifting to reach for something on the floor. Quickly, you move forward and to the side of his bed, not wanting him to over extend himself.

As you get closer, you see him lifting up a plastic bottle — a hospital urinal, off of the floor slowly. For a split second you remember the easy grip silverware that you’ve been washing for him, and you instinctively reach out for the urinal before he can lift it much further off the ground.

“Let me get it for you, Mr.Munson,” you say, taking the very full container in your hands. When you look over to him, you’re able to see more of his face from his covers shifting. Or, at least what wasn’t covered by long curly hair, his pinched brow and frown lines highlighted by the TV light. He lets go of the urinal, grabbing his covers and pulling them up and over to hide himself once more.

With a sigh, you make your way into his bathroom, flipping on the lights so you can better see where you’re dumping the urinal. When you get a proper look at the container in your hands, you have to suppress a gasp when you notice the almost brown color of the urinals contents.

“Fuck,” you whisper quietly to yourself. This is not good. Eddie definitely needs an antibiotic, like, 3 days ago. Especially if he’s complaining of back pain, he could be getting a kidney infection, and he’s in no state to be dealing with that—

“What’s taking so long?”

Eddie’s strained voice snaps you back into reality. You quickly dump his urinal, running a little water into it and dumping that as well before running it back out to him.

“Sorry, here you go,” you place the container back on the ground, before rushing back into the bathroom to wash your hands.

“Can I get you anything else?” You ask as you turn off his bathroom light.

“No,” he says from under his covers.

You breathe in, “Okay, um, well I’m going to go lay down. So, just, ring the bell extra loud if you need me again. Okay?”

A grunt is all you get as confirmation from him. A hand pops out from under the covers with a remote in grasp, pushing the power button and leaving you in the dark.

A loud crash wakes you from your sleep. Practically flying down the hall, you push in Eddie’s bedroom door and flip on the light.

“Oh my god!” You shriek out at the display before you. Eddie’s face down on the floor, halfway between his bed and his bathroom. You rush to his side and give him a quick look over, the first thing you notice being the cord from his lamp tucked around his ankle…his only ankle.

Looking over him more you realize that the plaid pajama pants he’s wearing are tied at the halfway point, emphasizing the missing lower half of his right leg. Now, you knew Eddie had difficulty with mobility. You’d seen the wheelchair in his room before, and the easy access details that were built in the house didn’t escape you either. But, you were not made aware that he was an amputee.

“Eddie, are you okay?”

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally takes a deep breath in, letting it out with audible annoyance. He turns his head hair covering his face the same as before, blowing it away with a puff of air in a comical way that makes you snort when it falls even more into his eyes. You take it upon yourself to move his hair out of the way for him, revealing a very disgruntled and very…handsome face.

“Hi,” he says, shortly, looking up at you with one big, chocolate button eye.

“Hi,” you respond, unable to suppress your smile at his attitude. “Need some help?”

“Guess you could say that,” he huffs, positioning his arms to push himself up.

“What would you like me to do?”

He says nothing, only lifting his hand up in a way that silently asks for yours in return. You take it, bracing yourself as you help him sit up. He grunts as he gets up onto his ass, face scrunching up in pain from all the movement.

“Are you hurt somewhere?” You ask, landing on your knees next to him ready to assess any injuries.

“Not anymore than I already was,” he says with a sarcastic groan, leaning back on both hands as he breathes through the pain.

“Well, I guess that’s good,” you say, the tension leaving your shoulders as you come out of panic mode.

As you give him a moment to collect himself, you take the opportunity to really look at Eddie for the first time. His hair is dark, wild curls sticking out every which way from being hidden under the covers. Now that it’s mostly out of his face, say for some overgrown bangs that are currently half covering his forehead, half sticking up, you can see his face pretty clearly. He really does have handsome features, his plump lips sticking out to you the most.

A scar covers a large part of his right cheek traveling down his neck and almost to his shoulder. Similar scars of various sizes go down his arms and are littered across his torso, all of them looking very new for being a few months old already.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Eddie says with a tight smile and a sarcastic tone.

“I’m sorry,” you say solemnly.

“S’alright. Can’t blame you for looking. I’m kinda like a car accident when you can’t look away.”

“No, no,” you shake your head, raising to your feet. “I’m sorry that this happened to you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, his head dropping down where his hair could cover his face. He’s truly a pitiful sight, a broken man on the ground with all of his scars on display. You notice his hair is matted in the back where small rat’s nests have formed and you think about how clean the bathroom looked earlier. How long has it been since he’s left his bed?

“Do you want to take a shower?”

Brown curls fly as Eddie’s head snaps up to look at you, an offended look on his face. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m not trying to say anything, I’m asking you if you want to take a shower. Also, follow up question, why were you trying to get to the bathroom the begin with? Wait,” you stand up straight, a wave of hot nerves washing over you, “did you ring your bell and I didn’t hear it?”

A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. “No,” he says, his vision casting down to his lap, “I, um… I had to piss. But my piss can’s full, and I—” He huffs, hand running through his tangled hair. His voice picks up an octave, “I didn’t want to wake you up. I don’t want your help.”

“I understand,” you say, “I don’t think I would want a stranger's help trying to take a piss either.” As you talk, you cross the room to where his wheelchair is parked, pulling it over to him and kicking the locks in place. “But — and I’m sure this wont help when I say this — I am in nursing school. I’ve seen some things in the last year. Things that are, unfortunately, permanently etched into my corneas for the rest of my life.”

He watches you with wide, curious eyes as you stand in front of him, placing yourself with your legs on either side of his. Crouching down in front of him, you reach your hands out to help him up, waiting for him to take your hands in return.

“What I’m saying is that there isn’t anything to be embarrassed about with me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

He looks at your hands, then up to you. You give him a smile, gesturing at him to take your hands, which he finally accepts after a moment of silence.

There’s a slight buzz that radiates in your shared touch, his rough, calloused hands grip tightly in yours. You ignore the head that creeps to your ear and count to three, bracing yourself as he uses all of his strength to pull himself up. With a quick pivot he plops down in his wheelchair, his breathing heavy after using so much energy.

“You okay?” You ask, waiting for him to catch his breath.

“Yeah,” breath in. “I’m fine,” breath out.

“Maybe we should skip the shower tonight?” You question with a raised brow.

“I never agreed to a shower in the first place,” he retorts.

You nod your head in acceptance. “Well, what if I at least brush your hair while you’re up—”

“No. Nope. No thanks.” His resistance was punctuated with exaggerated hand movements.

“Alright, alright,” you ceded, not wanting to push your luck. “Do you still need to pee or am I helping you back in bed?”

“I can do it myself,” he says, sloppily maneuvering his wheelchair towards the bathroom, facing away from you. Without another word, Eddie pushes the bathroom door closed and leaves you standing in the middle of his bedroom. You blink a few times, until you remember him mentioning that his urinal is full. Grabbing it from the other side of his bed, you take it to the hall bathroom to dump out, keeping a tentative ear in case Eddie calls out for you.

At the same time that you walk back into the bedroom, Eddie opens the bathroom door and wheels himself out. The look on his face is pained, brows furrowed together with a wince.

“Are you okay?” You ask, setting his urinal back where he could reach it.

“I’m fine,” he says shortly, making an attempt to straighten his face.

“Doesn’t look like it.”

He gives you a sharp glare. “I said I’m fine.”

You were about to throw your hands up in defense, not wanting to poke the bear. But, something inside you told you to keep pushing.

“Eddie, can I be honest with you?”

He stares at you from the other side of the bed.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you say sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure you have a UTI. Do you know what that is?”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he states with a huff.

“Okay…so can I ask why you’re not going to a doctor for it?”

His eyes clamp shut, and he breathes in sharply with a bit of a shake.

“Listen, I get you’re like a student nurse or something. But, to me, you’re just a glorified babysitter, alright? You don’t know a damn thing about me, so just…” Eddie looks up at you, waving his hand dismissively. “Answer the bell when it rings.”

Do his words sting a little? Maybe a tad. But really you feel bad for him more than anything. Wayne’s told you that Eddie was a troublemaker at times before what happened, but he has a heart of gold and has always meant well. The sadness in the old man’s eyes looks a lot like the pain in the eyes of the younger man before you. And you know pain makes people behave in strange ways.

“Hey, little lady. I think it’s time for you to get up and goin’.” Wayne’s soft, gruff voice stirs you from your slumber, pulling you from the light sleep you had fallen into after making sure Eddie got back into bed okay. Rubbing your eyes, the light from the kitchen illuminates the wall clock reading 4:30 in the morning. You let out a low, petulant groan as you rise from the couch, sliding down to the ground below to grab your things and get ready for the day.

The smell of coffee penetrates your nostrils as you wash your face, followed by a scent of eggs and bacon that makes your stomach cry out. You were definitely going to have to stop somewhere and grab something to eat on the way to work.

Just as you step out of the bathroom, Eddie’s bell rings from his room. Not wanting Wayne to leave his food to get cold, you cross the hall and knock on Eddie’s door. When he gives you the go head, you push the door open and are once again greeted by only a lump under a mattress.

“What can I help you with?” You ask as you enter the room.

“Are you making food?”

“Oh, I’m not. Wayne is though. Do you want me to have him make you a plate?”

“Wayne’s home?”

“Yeah, he just got—”

“Then why are you still here?”

Your mouth snaps shut. If you weren’t so tired, you’d probably just brush it off as him being grumpy. But your lack of restful sleep had you pivoting on your heel and closing the door behind you. You didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude this early in the morning, so he could wait.

“Smells good in here,” you say cheerfully, pushing Eddie’s comment to the back of your mind.

“Glad you think so. Yours is sitting right there for ya.” Wayne nods his head towards the bar seat where a plate of eggs, bacon and toast sits waiting.

“Oh, Mr.Munson, you didn’t have to—”

“Now, now, can’t send ya into work on an empty stomach now can I?”

You pull out the seat and sit in it slowly. You feel guilty for eating their food, but you would also feel terrible to turn down a meal made for you.

As you start to eat, you watch as Wayne makes another plate. He takes the time to break up the pieces of bacon into small parts and cuts the scrambled eggs up to make them more loose. He grabs the plate and a bowl full of what looks like oatmeal and excuses himself from the kitchen.

It only takes a moment of him being gone for you to notice that he forgot the silverware sitting on the counter. You thought about just leaving it, not really wanting to deal with Eddie any more at this point, but Wayne did make you food after a long shift at work so you might as well do it for him.

You bump the door open softly with your hip, utensils in one hand and some napkins in the other. The bickering between the two men ceases as they hear you come in with a sweet smile on your face.

“Might be hard to eat without these,” you say sweetly, placing the items on Eddie’s tray. Wayne’s eyes dart back and forth between you and where Eddie is sitting up, uncovered. Eddie glares at you, not acknowledging his uncle’s reaction to what he thinks is the first time you’re seeing his nephew.

Wayne’s hand taps against Eddie’s arm subtly. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says with raised brows, looking at Eddie expectantly.

“What?” he says, playing dumb.

“Ed, seriously.”

“Ugh, fine. Thanks.”

“You are so welcome. I hope you have a good weekend, Eddie,” you say as you turn to leave the room. “See you on Monday!”

Water splashes under your tires as you drive up the muddy driveway to the hidden Munson home. It’s been a dreary day, overcast and a consistent downpour setting the mood from the moment you woke up. All the studying you did in the Munson’s living room last week paid off when you passed your test this morning, and the rest of the day consisted of lab work, which was the only reason you managed to keep your eyes open until the end of class.

As you park your car, pulling your hood over your head to protect yourself from the rain, you rush to your back seat to grab your bags and the two pizza boxes you stopped to get on the way over. A comfort food for you, and you doubted that the two men inside would turn down a slice. Hopefully Wayne would take some with him to work so he wouldn’t have to worry about his lunch.

With full hands you opted to knock on the door instead of trying to fumble your keys out and juggle two large, hot boxes of pizza. It took a moment but the door eventually swung open with an overjoyed Wayne on the other side.

“What’s all this now?” He says with a chuckle, stepping aside for you to come in.

“It’s my favorite rainy day food,” you say as you kick your muddy shoes off, leaving them on the porch and stepping inside. “And I figured I’d get enough to share. Payback for breakfast on Friday.”

As you entered the home, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there had been some decorating done over the weekend. Some shelves line the walls in various spots, mostly empty except for a mug and a couple hats, but it made a world of difference to the space by comparison.

“Ya don’t have’ta pay me back for anything like that,” Wayne says as he takes the boxes from you and takes them into the living room. “It’s the least I can do. I wish I could pay ya something for being here.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better I wouldn’t take your money anyway,” you say taking in the made kitchen table, no longer covered in boxes. “I like what you’ve done with the place, by the way.” You look at Wayne directly and really notice the dark circles under his eyes. It looks like he hasn’t slept all weekend.

“Thanks…it’s nothing compared to the old place, but over time…” A distant sadness lives in his stare as he scans the room, looking past you before finally focusing once again on the food in front of him. “Well, I’m hoping that we can make it feel like a home, eventually.”

A loud groan from down the hall startles you and Wayne’s head drops with exasperation. “I better go check on him,” Wayne sighs, pushing off from the counter and taking off towards Eddie’s room.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, following behind him.

“Not really,” Wayne says, “Whatever he has, it’s gotten worse since you left. He’s got a fever that we’ve trying to fight—”

“A fever?!” You stop at the mouth of the hall, “And he still hasn’t seen a doctor?”

“Trust me, if I could get him to go I would. But he’s convinced it’ll pass on it’s own.”

Shit, this isn’t good, you think. Quietly, you peak in the door behind Wayne and you have to catch yourself before you audibly gasp. Eddie’s laid up in his bed, face flushed and his hair pulled up and out of his face with a washcloth on his forehead. The sheets around him look like they’re drenched from sweat and he’s covered in nothing but a thin sheet, likely burning up from the fever.

Backing out of the doorway, you pad down the hall as quickly as you can and grab their wall phone, fingers hitting the keys as fast as you can move them. You had thought about doing this all weekend, but you’d just hoped that maybe Eddie would cave and let Wayne take him to a doctor.

“Hello?” The familiar voice of your family doctor, who you called Ms. Gene, on the other line pulls a sigh of relief from you. She had been a friend of your grandmother’s and always told you to call her if you ever needed anything, even after hours, staying true to her word when your grandpa had his heart attack and she walked you through how to perform CPR at 12 years old.

Over the phone you told her the symptoms that Eddie was having, but replacing his name with yours. “Oh, my word,” Ms. Gene says on the other line, “That sounds like a pretty bad infection, dear. Probably going to need an antibiotic and some Pridium to help with the pain. Are you still staying with your friend, Tonya? I can call it in to a pharmacy over there for you.”

“Oh, um, I’m actually doing some volunteer work in Hawkins. If you could call in to me, like, as soon as possible, that would be perfect.”

“Hawkins? Where that Earthquake happened? Well, I can’t say I’m surprised you’d go somewhere like that to help. Where do you want me to call it in to?”

“Uummmmm,” you stall, running over to the cabinet where Wayne keeps Eddie’s pain medicine, grabbing a bottle and reading the pharmacy’s information to her.

“Alright, I’ll call that over for you,” she says sweetly.

“Thank you so much, Ms. Gene. You are a life saver!”

“Of course, dear. Oh, before you go,” she say, grabbing your attention again. “I noticed here that you haven’t called for your birth control since February. Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, ma’am,” you cringe, “I just, um, I’ve been busy with school and I h-haven’t exactly needed it.”

“Ah, I see,” she says with an obvious skepticism. “Well, if you do start needing it again, just give me a call, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

Just as you hang up the phone, Wayne walks back into the kitchen with a defeated look. The combination of Eddie’s condition and Wayne’s obvious stress has you feeling the tension in the air, making your words come out your mouth before you think about them.

“Wayne, I, um,” you stutter, “I need to run into town, to-to the pharmacy. I was going to stop on the way in and totally forgot.”

“Oh, okay,” Wayne turns to look at the clock on the stove. You’d gotten there early again, which hopefully would mean that you had enough time to get to the pharmacy and come back before Wayne needed to leave.

“Ya know you can use our stuff here, right? Don’t have to bring all your own things from home.”

“O-oh, thank you. But, um, the stuff I need is…personal.” He looks at you with a quirked brow and a slight tilt of the head. “Girl stuff,” you state, hoping that would be good enough of an excuse. And it was, the tips of his ears going red when he got the idea.

Thanks to Wayne’s very detailed directions you were able to get around the construction and to the Hawkin’s pharmacy and back within an hour. The rain had let up to a sprinkle when you pulled in again, Wayne walking out of the house as you pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not making you late. Did you grab some pizza?”

Wayne lifts a plastic bag with the food and a couple soda cans, “Got some right here. And it’s alright, I’ll be just fine. Did you, um, get what you needed?” You mimic his move, lifting your plastic bag as well, which elicited a hardy chuckle from the older man. “Good, good,” he says with a nod, “In the hall bathroom, I went ahead and cleared you a shelf in the closet in there. So, feel free to keep your stuff there. You don’t have to,” he says assuredly, “but I figured I’d give ya the option, ya’know?”

Your cheeks squish your eyes with how hard you smile, overwhelmed with the consideration of your needs. Something you’re not used to.

“Thank you very much, Wayne. That was very sweet of you to do.”

His ears turn red again, but he smiles back. “I’m — we’re not really used to having women around, but I want you to be comfortable here. You bein’ here has been more helpful than you think.”

The praise goes right to your heart, and you beam so hard you’re surprised the clouds didn’t part and let in a ray of sunshine over you. Instead, the rain starts to pick up again and the two of you part ways quickly to escape the downpour.

As soon as you get settled inside, you bust out the prescription bags and look over the medication directions. The antibiotic that Ms.Gene prescribed is for 10 days, and you realize that you didn’t even think about what you would do when you weren’t there. You don’t think Wayne would be mad about getting Eddie an antibiotic since he’s still being so stubborn, but you also don’t want to assume. Maybe you’ll wait to tell him on Friday when Eddie starts to feel better.

You prep the medicine and head down the hall where you can hear Eddie moaning lowly from his room. Knocking first, you push the door open and find Eddie to be in the same condition as he was when you saw him earlier. You felt awful for him, almost missing the bad attitude compared to the pained sounds he’s giving you now.

“Eddie,” you coo softly, grabbing his water jug from his bedside table. His eyes flutter open, half lidded and following your movements as you stand next to him. “Eddie, I’m going to sit you up a bit, okay?”

“Why?” He huffs out, wincing as the head of his bed raises him up to an almost sitting position.

“I have some medicine for you,” you say, showing him the pills in the little plastic cup.

He shakes his head, “No, no, Wayne already gave me my night meds.”

“These are different from those,” you offer the small cup to him to look at. “I just went and picked them up for you. The yellow and black one is an antibiotic and the little brown one will help with urinary pain.” He keeps shaking his head, refusing the medication. You look up at the ceiling, breathing in and out to calm yourself before you get frustrated. “Eddie, why don’t you want to take them? You have to feel terrible. Do you not want to get better?”

His eyes stay trained on his lap, the gears in his brain turning. His mouth opens to speak, but quickly snaps shut as he shakes his head more. “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he says, his voice going up an octave as his eyes go glossy.

“No, you’re right. You don’t,” you say softly. “But, I do want to help you, despite what you want to think. If there’s something I can do to help you believe that, I would love to hear it.”

His head luls to the side, eyes moving back and forth before rolling to look at you. “Let me see the bottles,” he says.

“The bottles?”

“Yes, the pill bottles.”

“Oh, okay!” You set the cup on the bedside table and run into the kitchen. Grabbing the pill bottles you all but sprint back to his room, presenting the two orange bottles to him. He doesn’t take them, rather he leans in and looks over them closely.

“Is that your name?” He nods to where your information is listed on the top of the label.

“Yeah, it is. I had to do it that way. Can’t request something for you so I figured this was the next best option.”

“And Wayne said it was okay?”

“Well, about that…” You set the bottles down, “I kinda forgot to tell him. But with the grief you’ve been giving him, I’m sure he won’t be too upset.”

“Whatever,” Eddie says with a roll of his eyes. “He knows why I don’t want to go…”

You grab the cup of pills and present them to him again. “I’m sure he does. But, you really need to start these before you end up in the hospital. Or worse, the infection spreads and you get blood poisoning and die.” Eddie huffs out a small laugh, but you choose not to ponder on it and instead grab his water jug. “So, are you gonna take them or am I gonna have to call the squad to come get you by the end of the week?”

He sighs and presents a scarred hand to you, the tissue thick and uneven where it looked like some of it may have been graphed. You turn the cup over and let the pills fall into his palm, watching as he brings them to his mouth and takes a sip from the straw of his water. You didn’t ask him to, but he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue as if to show you he’s taken them, a reflex you wonder if he got from his long stay at the hospital.

As you watch him, you can’t help but look him over again. Admiring his profile, the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. You notice that his scars on his chest cover his left pec, his whole left nipple missing in the mess of healed flesh. The bumpy flesh on his sides smooth out in the middle, to his belly button, where a trail of hair disappears into the thin sheet—

“Can you put the bed back down now, please?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” You snap back to the present, heat on your cheeks and shame in your gut when you realize you were gawking at your patient. Your patient who is sick and needs your help to take care of him. Pin needle tingles flush into a layer of sweat over your body from the guilt.

“Is there anything else you need?” You ask as the bed reaches its flattest position. Hurriedly, you grab everything you left on his bedside table and move it back to where it was next to the bed.

“Um, yeah,” Eddie’s voice strains as he stretches his right hand to reach his bedside table, fingers moving slowly in an attempt to pick up the wash rag you saw on his forehead earlier.

“Want me to run it under some cold water?” Walking around the bed, you pick the damp rag up. Your fingers brush against his, making you retract them back to your body which sends the wash rag to the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” you say quickly, bending over to pick up the rag. You make a beeline to the bathroom, turning on the faucet to it’s coldest setting, splashing a little over your cheeks as it runs out.

“I, uh, I don’t need the washcloth anymore,” you hear Eddie’s voice call out, softer than you’ve heard from him so far. It sparks a bit of concern in you, making you lean back to check on him. He’s pulled the blankets back up over him, his whole body turned away from you. When the TV’s volume goes up a few clicks, you just assume that his pain meds are kicking in and making him sleepy.

After turning off the water, you ask Eddie one more time if he needs anything, to which he simply shakes his head, refusing to acknowledge you anymore. You leave his door open a crack as you walk out and rush across the hall into the second bathroom. You let out a quiet shriek, running your hands over your face as you replay the way you looked at him over and over in your mind. What the hell was wrong with you? Are you that touch starved that any bit of skin makes you act like an 1800’s man who’s just seen a woman’s ankle? You need to get it together, sooner rather than later.

Maybe a shower will clear your head.

“Eddie,” you call out from across the hall. No answer.

“Eddieee,” you call again. Nothing.

You step out of the bathroom and take the few steps to the bedroom door.

“Eddie?” The sound of shuffling and a few curses make you jump back.

“Eddie, is everything okay—”

“Yes, I’m fine, what do you want?” He sounds aggravated, and you think that maybe he had actually fallen asleep and you had just woke him up.

“I’m sorry, I was just going to tell you I’m going to take a shower. I’ll let you go back to sleep.” There’s no response other than a creak from the bed, so you leave it at that.

After two days of rain, Wednesday is much clearer. The early september sun beat down on your face through the window as your teacher goes through the day’s notes. But you’re barely able to focus on the words, your mind elsewhere as you think about the lack of sleep you got the last two nights.

As if you had manifested it, your period decided to show up yesterday morning when you weren’t expecting it and you became a victim of period insomnia that night. Even worse, you almost bled through your school uniform on the way from leaving the Munson’s. Thankfully you were able to rush to the bathroom just before class started, but you only felt worse the rest of the day.

You’re not sure if you were wearing your discomfort in your features or if Eddie was just feeling merciful, but he had been fairly pleasant for you when it came to taking care of him. He even promised to let you work on fixing his hair once he was feeling better.

Well, he didn’t say yes, but maybe is good enough for you for now.

With about thirty minutes left in class, your teacher calls your name and snaps you out of your daydream

“You’re needed in the counselor's office,” she says monotonically.

“O-okay,” you stutter, gathering your things quickly and heading to the main offices.

As you walk in, the lady at the desk is on the phone, not paying you any attention and she plays with the gum in her mouth. You stand there for a few minutes waiting for her to get off the phone, but she seems to be having a personal conversation, her beehive hair tilting to the side as she puts the phone between her ear and shoulder.

You’re about to open your mouth to say something when a door behind her opens. With some papers in his hand, the guy from your volunteer sign ups, Sam walks out. His brows perk up when he notices you, bright smile on display as he makes his way to you.

“Hey, I was just about to come get you,” he says with a soft chuckle. “Thought maybe you got lost on the way here.”

“N-no,” you say, “I was, um…waiting.” You glance over at the receptionist, whose eyes are glued to the man in front of you.

“Ah, I see,” he says with a nod. “Well, if you don’t mind stepping back into my office with me here.” He motions for you to follow him back to the door he came out of. You can feel the eyes of the beehive staring daggers into your back even after he closes the door behind you.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures to the chair in front of what you assume is his desk as he sits down behind it. You sit down, straightening your skirt in an attempt to get comfortable as he pulls a folder out from a drawer.

“So,” he starts, “I just wanted to, um, touch base with you on your volunteer work. More specifically, how you’re feeling with your client.”

“You mean Eddie?” You ask.

“Yes, yes, Eddie Munson. I think I told you that day that he wasn’t a very sought after client, and I’m sure by now you’re aware as to why.”

“Because of the accusations.” It’s not a question, rather a statement.

“Yes, exactly.” He leans forward in his seat. “The company that’s running the program was surprised that anyone had agreed to take him. But, I told them that a…” He pauses for a moment, subtly looking you up and down, “...very special person took Mr.Munson in without hesitation. And when I tell you they were relieved — it would be an understatement, truly. But…”

“But?” You ask with a quirked brow.

“But,” he continues, “I’m just…I just want to make sure you’re feeling…safe.”

“Safe? Like when I’m there?”

“Yes. I know he lives with his uncle so you’re not alone, but if you were to be left alone with you, would you feel safe?”

Oh, this guy has no idea.

“Absolutely,” you say without hesitation. “Eddie is wounded at best and grumpy at worst. But I can’t think of a single moment where I’ve ever felt unsafe. I’ve actually felt quite welcome there. They’re very sweet people.”

Sam nods with a satisfied smile as you talk, visibly relaxing in his chair.

“Good, that’s great to hear,” he says, making a note on a paper in the folder in front of him. “I’m glad we were able to find a good fit, for the both of you it seems. Now, on the day you signed up, I did forget to have you fill out this paper here—” He slides a paper in front of you with the VisitingAngels logo on the top. “This is just asking for your basic info; name, address, a good phone number. It’s all for the volunteer company to keep on record. It must have been missing from the folder I had that day.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, pulling the chair up to the desk. Sam slides a pen over to you, and you can feel his eyes on you as you fill out the paper. You spare him a quick glance, and he flashes you a smile. He’s more handsome up close you think.

Once you’ve finished you slide the papers back to him, his finger touching yours as he takes them.

“Great, thank you,” he says, tucking the paper into the folder and closing it.

“Of course,” you say, straightening up in your chair. “Was there…anything else you needed me for?”

Sam hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Actually, yes. I, um, I think you volunteer later in the day, is that correct?”

“Yes, I’m usually at the Munson’s house by 5. Why?”

“How long would you say you’re usually there for?”

You feel beads of sweat forming in your hairline. Did someone find out you were staying overnight with Eddie? Would he get in trouble if you were? Would you get in trouble? Would they take him away as your client?”

“Um, I would—I think I leave at 7, on-on average. Yeah…I get there, make sure he eats and get him settled for bed. Sometimes we sit and talk. Y-you know, caregiver stuff.”

“I see, I see,” Sam nods. “So that means…This Friday you don’t have any plans after 7 then?”

Your head reels back. “I’m sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

He laughs nervously, adjusting himself in his chair. “I, um, well, I’m asking if you’re free on Friday night, because I wanted to see if I could maybe take you to dinner?”

Your eyes dart around the office in disbelief. What is happening right now? You don’t get asked out. Tonya gets asked out by guys at the bar. The girls in your class get asked out by guys in other majors. The girl who bullied you in high school gets asked out by your crush. But not you…

“W-what?”

“Sorry if this seems sudden, but I’ve honestly been thinking about you since that day we met and…I don’t know,” Sam shrugs, closing in on himself a bit. “I just thought I would ask. But I understand if you can’t.”

Damn it.

“Well, I can’t on Friday,” you start, and the strings of your heart pull when the man in front of you deflates. “But…I could do Saturday?”

“Really? Okay, I can make that work.” Sam grabs a post-it note and writes his name and number down before handing it to you. “Here's my number, just in case. I guess I’ll pick you up—” He opens the folder again and points at where you wrote Tonya’s address on the paper, “...at your place around 7?”

You nod. “Sounds like a date.”

thank you for reading.

tagging @boomhauer bc i know you want to share your art lol

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson st #canon divergent #eddie lives #eddie munson lives #eddie munson slow burn

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happy74827 · 11 months ago

Text

And… Action?

[Colt Seavers x Actress!Reader]

Synopsis: In which a minor… stunt caused the meeting of the stuntman himself who always seemed too busy, too focused, and too far away {GIF Creds: fleursial}

WC: 1121

Category: Mega Fluff, Suggestive Ending?

Why is there still so little of Colt?? I don’t understand it 😭

『••✎••』

It wasn’t unusual for you to find yourself staring at Colt Seavers from across the set. You liked him, liked the mysterious presence he displayed. Sure, half of it was because you never had the courage to approach him, despite how friendly he was with the rest of the cast and crew, but he always seemed so busy. Plus, your character never needed to interact with the stunt crew so you didn’t have a reason to walk across the lot. And even if you had, your scenes wouldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes anyway.

However, when the very last scene of the day was called, everything changed for the better. You were moments away from leaving the set, having already said goodbye to almost everyone else, with the feeling you weren't going to see Seaver ever again.

Until he bumped into you, quite literally.

You let out a surprised gasp, almost dropping your script as you stumbled backward, but a pair of strong hands were quick to steady you by your arms.

"I am so sorry, miss… woah," he said as he looked down at you, taking in your face for the first time, his hands still resting on your upper arms. You felt yourself go red, suddenly unable to look him in the eye and instead opting for looking anywhere but.

"No, no, it was my fault; I should have watched where I was going," you said.

He shook his head and released his hold on you. "You’re… man, you are really beautiful," he said.

"What?" you asked, surprised.

"I mean—uh, you were really beautiful�� out there! On set, you know," he corrected himself, and you swore you saw a faint blush form across his cheeks.

You bit your lip and finally found the courage to meet his gaze. "I appreciate the compliment."

"Yeah, no problem. How come I’ve never seen you around here before?" he asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head in curiosity.

That right there… it took everything in you not to melt right then and there. You could see the indentations of his biceps from under his tight-fitted jacket, the arm cross just amplifying them. It didn't help that you also just barely came up to his chest, which, while intimidating, also made him all the more attractive.

You swallowed thickly and averted your eyes. "Well, I never needed a stunt double, so…" you trailed off.

"Yeah, that’s fair. Totally get it, yeah." He clicked his tongue and nodded, looking away momentarily. Before you could turn to see what he was looking at, he squinted, looking back down at you. His hand peeled away from his arm to hover in front of you.

"Colt," he said, extending his hand. "Name's Colt Seavers… I’m kind of a big deal around here. You know, doing car crashing, rope climbing, cliff-diving stuff," he explained with a smirk.

You let out a small, quiet giggle as you reached for his hand, giving it a shake as you stated your own name. His hand was big, rough, and calloused, no doubt from years of hard work and training, but it was warm. A strong grip, but ever so gentle.

"I, uh, do the acting stuff." You repeated his words, and his smirk broke into a smile, one that nearly took your breath away.

It was then, looking at his smile, that you realized the opportunity before you.

You had to say something, had to tell him, and you weren't about to let this opportunity pass.

"I think you're pretty beautiful, too," you said, and that caught his attention, his eyebrows raising.

"You do?"

"Yes," you confirmed with a nod. "Out there… on set, I mean."

He let out a short laugh, his hands moving back to his pockets. He was sort of swaying, almost as if he wasn’t sure what to do, what to say. It was adorable.

Alright, you needed to do something. The fear of letting another moment like this go to waste was far too much. So many guys had slipped through your fingers because of your hesitance—a real shame, too, considering how most of them weren’t even remotely attractive.

But Colt, though…

"Listen, um… maybe I'm jumping the gun here, but would you like to—"

"Yes," his answer was nothing short of immediate. “Absolutely, yes… yeah hundred percent, yeah- yes… yes."

It took him a second, took him a long second, to realize you hadn’t even finished your question. His eyes went wide as fear evidently started to creep in.

"Shit, uh- sorry. Yeah, uh… yeah, I'm listening. You can keep going." He motioned with his hand for you to continue, and you had to suppress a smile.

Well, this is definitely promising.

"Maybe we could hang out sometime? Have dinner or something?" you suggested.

"Dinner, yeah- dinner is good. Dinner is… great. I love dinner. Dinner is, uh… dinner is great," he stammered, and you couldn't help but give him a small laugh, one that was cut off when his eyes went wide yet again.

"Sorry, I'm just… yeah, sorry, I'm just- I'm gonna… hey, can I get your number?" His question was followed by him digging into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone, which was cracked beyond belief. “Not so I can bother you or anything, not that I would- I mean unless you wanted me to bother you, I guess, which- no, sorry. Just, like, text you, I guess, yeah.”

Your eyes went wide at the state of his phone. "How does that even work?"

"I'm a pro. Just a quick swipe to the left and a few presses, and it works fine, see?" He tapped the screen a few times before opening his contacts, and he handed the phone to you. "Here."

"You know what? I'll just put it in my phone if that's okay," you said.

"Oh, yeah, yeah- absolutely," he said, nodding. "Whatever makes you feel comfortable, yeah."

You quickly punched in his numbers and sent a text, a small, simple message. One that escalated to where you were now, weeks after that dinner, his hands roaming your body as he pressed you against the door of your new and current trailer.

You should’ve known you weren’t going to run lines that day.

A stuntman running lines?

Yeah, right. He runs through scenes instead, and… this was definitely a scene.

God, how ready you were for that first take to start.

[@kcisahoe + @adeesthetic] Since you guys asked so nicely, here’s another Colt fic!! There needs to be way more out there because he’s just so… 🤭🤭

For all you Tom lovers out there, don’t worry!! I didn’t forget about you. He’s in the works so I’m praying my work/study schedule aligns with me finishing it 😅

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shapard · 5 months ago

Text

Sweet Delusion🌙

Lucifer x fem!reader

Tw: Sexual Themes, self hatred, insecurities, self sabotage.

Your first meeting with The Lucifer Mornigstar was very, rough.

We can't be friends

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2

Story starts underneath the cut.

You hated it here with all your might. Working for Valentino was making you sicker everyday.

The way his drug Saliva was intoxicating the air around you, making you feel dizzy and tipsy. The way the lingerie hung uncomfortable on your skin, the sweat that pearled off your body made you even sicker than before.

The microphone in your one hand was the only thing that made you grab onto the reality. Your child you would be so disappointed that you are standing here, on this stage in front of a Sinner, like yourself.

A Sinner like everyone in this pit.

The bitter taste of alcohol on your tongue was still sweeter than the glares you were getting from your own team.

It isn't the first time you felt this way. In hell, getting backstabbed is one of the least problems. You can't trust anyone.

The first days you arrived here, you were lying to yourself. Making a fool out of you, every time.

Jealousy, death and pain was normal here. Everyone drowned their problem down with drugs, killing and sex.

You were no exception.

Valentino was, as always, sitting on his throne like chair, observing your every move. “Dear Kitty, come to papi.”

The way Valentino called for you was making you want to vomit. The lust in his voice was unbearable.

Your heels were hitting the ground as you walked over to Valentino. “What is it, papi?“ How much you hated that pet name.

As much as you don't want to call him this way, he doesn’t accept another from you. His little kitten, his possession.

No one should touch his possession. Or else you'd feel his anger with no mercy.

“The performance was great as always! I couldn’t look away at those hips. But one thing was missing.“ He tapped on his lap, gesturing you to sit on it. With hesitant you sat down onto his lap. “What papi?“ Valentinos lower hands were now on your hips as the other was caressing your cheek and the other was holding his pipe.

“You know I love the way you say it, don’t ya?” Valentinos chuckle was burning down your ears, poison would’ve burn less.

His caressing hand was now holding your lip, “You know, I’ve been planning to let you meet one of my favorites. After you, of course.” You squinted your eyes at him, “I don’t understand?” His pipe made its way towards you as you breathed in his toxin. “Angel.”

The sudden change of voice was giving you the shills.

Another sinner made his way towards you. It was indeed the famous porn star, Angel Dust.

“Meet Kitty, the Star in our business.” The said sinner held his head down, almost in submission. “I’m Kitty and you are?” You introduced yourself and shook his hand. He introduced himself to you with full blown energy.

Something you didn't expect.

You jumped down from Valentinos Lap as you blew him a kiss, “Don’t miss me too much Papi.” He chuckled as he dismissed you.

“You sure like him.” Angel pointed towards Valentino. You chuckled in Irony, “I actually hate him.” You confessed to him. You two continued to leave the club.

“Wha-? Where are we going?” Angel said scared, his hand latched onto you making you stop in your tracks. “We are going to my room. No Val allowed!” You chuckled as you pulled him towards your room.

He stopped.

Confused you look towards him, “Actual I have to go to a Hotel.” He said anxious. “Well I could join you?” His face turned fast to fright, “No, NO. It’s okay, the people are very weird, you wo-“ you pinched his skin and he hissed in pain. “I don’t care, bring me to the Hotel.”

You'd rather join him in the Hotel, than rot in this place alone. You were so alone these days.

Your mouth was gaped as you entered the freshly Hotel, everything was so colorful and yet dark and delicate.

“Wow!” Was the only thing you even thought when you looked around.

You made your way towards the window and your finger grazed the clean wood of the Hotel. A squiek brought you out of the trance as your eyes shifted towards a blond woman, she looked very humane for a sinner.

“OH MY GAWD! WE HAVE A NEW GUEST, EVERYONE!” The sudden shouting made your ear twitch in annoyance. “Wait Charlie! She’s just visiting!” Angel got in between, he shielded me from her hugging attempts.

A static sound and a shadow lurked to your left, “Well, Hello my dear! If it isn’t the famous singer, Kitty!” His huge smile was very uncomfortable for you.

“What’s the smile for?” You pointed towards the unknown guy as he disappeared and appeared behind you grabbing your shoulders, “A smile is very useful, you should try it.” His sharp nails trailed your lips like you were the Joker.

He laughed when you moved away from his hard grasp.

“The hell” you mutter. You turned around and looked over to the stairs as you saw another guy with familiar featured with the girl named Charlie.

“What’s going on?” He asked and you couldn’t relate more to a question than right now.

“Angel brought a Guest, A famous one even.” You waved towards them, “OH, I’M SO SORRY! LET ME INTRODUCE EVERYONE TO YOU!” You hissed at her loudness, damn your ears are sensitive. She quickly apologized and talked a little more normal.

"My name is Charlie, I'm the owner of this wonderful resident." You two shook your hands and smiled at each other.

“This is Husk, our Bartender.” The said guy waved at you and you politely repeat the gesture.

“And this is Alastor, my helping hand.” So Alastor is the name of the wierdo.

“This is my girlfriend, Vaggie.” You waved at her and she waved back.

“This is Nifty, our cleaning girl.” You looked to the small girl in front of you. “Can I clean your underwear?” You chuckled at the weird question as Charlie Apologized for her behaivor.

She pointed towards the guy that looked almost exactly like her, “That’s my Father, Lucifer Morningstar.” If you were alone right now, you’d probably be screaming.

The Devil was right in front of you! The pure Evil! “Hello, nice to meet you. And what’s your name?” You bowed quickly as you started to introduce yourself.

For the devil he was quite nice.

“My Celebrity name is Kitty. My actual name is Y/n. Nice to meet you all.”

You already know that the next few days are going to be exhausting. Pretending to be someone you're not. Pretending that you love being you. That you are confident.

______

Some time passed and with the days you visited the Hotel, the more you realized that one person did not like you at all.

With your luck it was The Lucifer Morningstar.

Oh, and you were so wrong. He wasn't nice at all. He's the complete opposite, since the first meeting.

From making rude comments to spilling extra coffee onto your clothes, worst part is, you hate coffee.

Always Ignoring you, sharing false Information about you. You don't know what you did to him, to deserve that embarrassment.

You really don’t know why he hates you that much. Is it self hatred or is it because he doesn’t like sinners at all?

And if so, why doesn’t he do those things to the other guest?

“Angel, He hates me.” Your voice muffled as your head rested in your hands. Angels hand caressed your back. “I don’t think he hates you. Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” You gave Angel the ‘Are you serious‘ face.

“Okayyy maybe he does hate ya, but who cares?” you groaned as you sat back, “He’s Lucifer. The king of hell! Of course I care!” The sudden outburst made Angel wince a bit, he gave you your Mojito glass. “I think you need this.”

You muttered a small thanks as you took a huge gulp out of the glass. “I hate when life is so complicated. And in a few hours I have to perform at Valentinos club. I don’t want to see his purple fuck face.” Angel laughed, “Who would like to see him though?” I shrug my shoulders as I stood up.

“Was nice spending some time you with you Angel, sadly I have to go.” You gave him a huge hug.

When you made your way towards the exit, you saw the one and only Lucifer Morningstar, leaning onto the door. You sigh, why you?

“Excuse me sir, I have to pass.” You said polite, not wanting to get into trouble. His red scarlet eyes beamed to you as he finally looked you into the eyes, he rolled his eyes.

He didn’t budge, “I wanted to ask you something.” He sigh deeply, his finger tapped onto his cane, “Charlie would like to have you in the Hazbin Hotel.” His annoyance was very obvious, “I don’t know why she wants someone useless like you, but, I can’t change her mind. So, would you like to join?”

You blinked up to him, irritated by his strained voice. “Huh?” You were confused, why did Lucifer asked you and not Charlie?

“Are you deaf?” His eyes squinted. “I’m just confused. Charlie could’ve asked herself, you know?” His eyebrow raised as he huffed in annoyance.

“That’s none of your business, Kitty.” He sassed back to you, still he made space for you, to leave. “Think about it.”

______

Moving into the Hotel? Is that even a good Idea?

It would be nice to not always be in your working environment. There was just one Issue. Valentino wouldn’t allow that. In no universe would Valentino ever let go of his precious Kitten. Not in a billion years. You were after all his main Income. With a sigh you stepped into the V’s huge empire.

“Kitty!” The hot pink smoke made it clear who it was. “Where have you been going lately?! You’re missing your studio sessions.” You took a deep breath in, it’s been a while since Valentino had used this voice drop on you.

“I’m sorry papi, I was just looking for new clients.” Valentino beamed in surprise. Your puppy eyes were showing some effect. “Such a good kitty cat you are. That’s why you’re the best!” His sudden mood swing doesn’t surprise you at all.

That's just Valentino.

He never seems disappointed when you bring some new clients. Even though this time you were lying.

You sat down in the car that was waiting for you both.

The door closed and soon you drove through the pride ring, into one of Valentino’s club. In the changing room the mood was very anxious. Everyone was tiptoeing around Valentino. Valentino also seemed to be very pissed. So, you avoided talking to him.

“Kitty, you’re next.”

With a sigh you stood up. The pearls on your lingerie outfit were very cold, making your nipple harden. “Let’s get over with this.” Your heels stabbed the ground in an elegant, yet scary way.

The music started to play announcing your arrival on stage. You took the microphone as you sang soft yet hard notes into it.

“There are no more tears to cry

I heard you beggin' for life

Runnin' out of medicine

You're worse than you've ever been”

You moved outside of the curtain which were hiding you.

You looked around the room and you saw no one else than Charlie, Husk, Vaggie and Angel. Your brows knitted, what are they doing here?

When your show was over, a lot of applause echoed through the shallow walls. With in seconds you were in front of Charlie and the others.

“What are you doing here?!” Angel sighed, “Told y’all she’s not going to be happy about it. But no one listens to me.” Charlie jumped up and bowed really quick, you chuckle at her cute antics. “I’m so so soooo sorry! I thought if we come watch you, we’d come more along. You know, support you and all.” she's so cute you thought, “You could’ve at least told me, you know?” Your cheeks felt warm all of the sudden.

No one really cared about supporting you ever. Charlie really was different.

“Thank you.” You muttered and the others held a thumb up, making you laugh again.

“Kitty.” The cold voice of Valentino was like a ghost creeping up behind you, if not even worse. A hard hand landed on your shoulder, making you spin around. “We need to talk. In private.” He said while gesturing towards Charlie and the others.

With a shaking breath you bid the other goodbye. Meanwhile they gave you a Sympathetic look, almost. It was weird for you.

It’s as almost as if they cared.

Your inner insecurities screamed at you.

They do not care about you, why would they even? That's what you tell yourself. You're not ready to get hurt, again.

You walked next to the stomping Valentino, but all you could focus about was the reaction from the others.

Were you friends?

Are you even that special to have friends?

You and Angel are in a way, you two share the same fate. Sold half of your soul just for some extra money.

Pathetic, isn’t it?

But that is all what you are, all what Y/n ever was.

But now you were Kitty, a superstar. Someone everyone liked. All you have to do is look good and sexy, be dump.

Yet what were these faces?

You don’t want to see those faces. It was irking you. Your blood quirk started to make your blood almost burn down your veins, allowing you to step back to reality.

And all of the sudden, a Slap was all that you felt. You collided the cold ground with a groan. “Kitty, papi is really mad right now.” You didn’t moved an inch, “I thought I taught you better than that. Lucifer’s brat? Really? What is even so special about her?!”

You winced as Valentino pulled your head towards him, “You were a bad girl. And you know what happens to bad girls.” Your whole body shook as raw flashbacks came back.

A Man you once called your lover, holding you in the same position.

You didn't want this to happen. You couldn't control your quirk 100 percent. Valentinos blood vessels started to burst and he coughed blood onto you, “Fucking Bitch!”

He clicked a button on a remote, not even a second later an electric shock flowed through your body making you scream.

“Useless”.

All you could see was your past lover standing in front of you. Not Valentino. Tears streamed down your face as everything went black.

“I’m Sorry.”

A/n: IT'S BEEN SO LOOONNGG

But finally I'm back and giving you another story for our depressed duck.

💫

Taglist

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete @ylovei @cimadreamer @ayanazoldyck @froggybich

#shapard #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #y/n #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucifer hates reader #x reader #enemy's to lovers sort of

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 6 months ago

Text

Lost and Found

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Warning: slight angst (usual mentions of walking dead stuff), mostly fluff

Authors Note: i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The forest stretched endlessly before you, thick with shadows and silence, the scent of damp earth clinging to the air. You’d been on your own for weeks now—an endless game of survival, marked by close encounters with walkers, near-missed skirmishes, and restless, sleepless nights. Each step was a struggle, and every day felt like another small battle, a choice to keep going when everything felt like it was falling apart.

Then you heard it—a faint rustle in the trees. The hairs on the back of your neck rose, and instinct took over as you spun around, knife at the ready. Your heart pounded, the world narrowing down to your breath and that creeping, distant sound. But what you saw wasn’t a walker.

A man stood a few feet away, crossbow aimed at you with steady hands. His expression was hidden behind messy strands of hair and narrowed eyes, but the light of the setting sun caught a flash of blue in his gaze. He looked just as tired, just as wary, but there was a stillness to him that told you he was calculating every move.

“Easy now,” he murmured, the rough edge of a Southern drawl in his voice.

You didn’t lower your weapon. “I could say the same to you.”

He kept his aim for a moment longer, his eyes scanning you, trying to decide if you were a threat. Slowly, he lowered the crossbow, but the suspicion didn’t leave his face. “Ain't seen many folks out here alone.”

“Not by choice,” you replied, keeping your tone even. This man was dangerous, you could tell that much—but something in his presence felt more solid, more grounded than anything you’d encountered in weeks.

He gave a small nod, as if acknowledging the unspoken history of survival in your tone. “Daryl Dixon,” he said simply, voice as gruff as the forest surrounding him. “You got somewhere to go, or you just driftin’?”

The question hit harder than it should have. You’d been aimless for so long, with no real destination, no goal other than staying alive. You hesitated, feeling an ache in your chest that you hadn’t let yourself acknowledge until now. “I don’t know,” you said quietly. “Guess I’m just looking for a reason to keep moving.”

Daryl nodded, his gaze softening just a fraction. “Ain’t a lotta good reasons out here,” he said, almost like he was speaking to himself. After a beat, he shifted, jerking his head in the direction he’d come from. “I know a place. Ain't much, but it’s safe.”

His offer stunned you. You’d learned not to trust easily, not to follow anyone, but something about his quiet, unspoken sincerity made you want to believe him. Without a word, you nodded, falling in step beside him as he led the way.

The settlement was smaller than you’d imagined, a handful of tents, makeshift shelters, and a few scattered supplies marking what could hardly be called a camp. But there were people here—a rare sight in a world filled with walkers and betrayal. And even more surprising, you felt a strange sense of comfort as you entered the space.

Daryl showed you around in his gruff, no-nonsense way, his words clipped and direct. “Water’s over there, fresh hunt gets cleaned ‘round here. Don’t go too far off unless you’re prepared to fight.” He nodded toward the far side of the camp, where a few others sat around a small fire. “We don’t get many strangers, but… s’long as you pull your weight, you’re welcome to stay.”

The days passed slowly, each one a test of patience and resilience. Daryl was around often, though you noticed he wasn’t much for conversation. He taught you small things—a shortcut through the woods, the best way to set a trap, how to tell when a walker was near even if you couldn’t see it. You worked in silence most of the time, an unspoken understanding building between you. You began to feel a warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time—a sense of belonging, maybe even a sense of safety.

One night, after a particularly successful hunt, you and Daryl sat by the campfire, sharing the rare luxury of a full meal. The stars hung above you, and for a moment, it felt like the world was still. You glanced over at him, catching the way the firelight danced in his eyes.

“Why’d you come with me that day?” he asked suddenly, voice low and almost hesitant.

You shrugged, feeling your heart beat a little faster under his gaze. “I think… I just wanted someone to remind me there was still something worth fighting for.”

Daryl’s gaze lingered on you, a faint vulnerability surfacing in his eyes before he looked away. “There ain't much good left out here,” he muttered, as if wrestling with something he didn’t want to admit.

You leaned closer, the warmth of the fire tracing lines of shadow across his face. “Maybe not. But it doesn’t mean we have to forget what good is.”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes piercing in the dim light. “Been alone a long time,” he said, his voice rough and edged with something raw. “Most folks don’t last out here. They don’t understand.”

You nodded, understanding all too well. “But you’re still here.”

For a long, quiet moment, Daryl just looked at you, his expression guarded but softened by something you couldn’t quite name. Then, almost as if he hadn’t decided to, he reached out, his hand finding yours. His touch was hesitant, rough and calloused, but gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You held onto it, feeling an unspoken promise between you—something steady in the chaos, something you hadn’t realized you needed.

“You ever think about leavin’?” he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.

You shook your head, squeezing his hand lightly. “Not anymore.”

And in that quiet, shared moment, you both knew that this fragile, fleeting thing—whatever it was — was worth holding onto.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

#x reader #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #the walking dead x reader

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haniette · 2 years ago

Text

my promise.

pairing | yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre | angst, fluff, idol au, jeonghan!soft boyfriend, established relationship, hurt-comfort

wc | 1.8k

warnings | mentions of mental health problems, lots of pet names (angel, sweetheart, love), family issues, kissing.

summary: when the the dark days when you felt worthless came, your sweet boyfriend was always the one to help you. however, recently, as he’s preparing for the new album, you are afraid to disturb him in his work. but how could you forget about his promise?

a/n: i’m sorry for being inactive past few months </3 i had a really hard time in my life, but now as everything is better, i’m comimg back to you all with a new angst-fluff fanfic with our angel, jeonghan <3 hope you’ll enjoy it ! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

You immediately knew.

Right when you woke up, you could feel that today was going to be one of those days. With your tendency of bottling your emotions inside of you, there had to come a day where all of it would come out.

And not having Jeonghan next to you right when you opened your eyes in the morning to calm you down, made everything even worse.

He was your comfort, your peace, your safe place. Without him by your side, everything seemed colorless. That boy could make your smile come back again just by seeing his face. However, each of his smirks when he looked at you, his sweet laugh, and his warm and cozy hugs were still your favorite things.

And you did understand that since the boys were preparing for their comeback, they had to practice hard. But deep down, you hoped that Jeonghan could be with you all day, keeping you close to him, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, while making you sink into his scent that you adored so much.

Your gaze slowly moved to the window next to your bed, noticing that the rain was pouring pretty bad outside. Even the sky was crying with you.

Not so long after, the first tears ran down your cheek as you couldn’t hold them back anymore.

Recently, life has been really rough to you, not making it easier to keep a smile on your face. When you already had enough of your boss at work, then that one, stupid girl was making your situation even worse. Whatever you did, she always had to make a competition from it. And the fact that frustrated you the most, was that most of the time, she was doing your work even better than you.

Additionally, of course you had to get into another quarrel with your sibling. As if they couldn’t just leave you alone. You both had separate lives so why did they have to disturb you?

The cherry on top was your overthinking. About literally everything. About your life, your future, what could you do to finally love yourself, and also about your relationship with Jeonghan.

Are you a good girlfriend to him? Does he already have enough of you? Are you even enough for him?

Yeah, those days have always sucked. And you knew that there was only one medication for it. Yoon Jeonghan. If you could at least hear his voice.. No, you shouldn’t call him. He was practicing, and eventually he’ll come home later..? You deeply hoped that the ‘later’ will actually come quickly.

But as you were deep in your thoughts once again, the part of you which wanted to call him had taken control of your body. Quickly, you reached over to the bedside table for your phone, and opened your contacts immediately. You hesitated for a moment when you clicked on Jeonghan’s profile, however not even a second later you clicked the call button.

And after a few signals, you heard, “Yes, angel?”

Your boyfriend’s voice at the other side of the call sounded so sweet but at the same time he sounded exhausted, making the tears roll up to your eyes once again, threatening to fall any second.

Shit, you really needed him.

You let out a shaky sigh, “Hannie..” your voice was almost inaudible.

Even when you called him, you haven’t thought about what you wanted to tell him.

“Are you okay?”

You wanted to say that everything was fine, that you were fine. But you couldn't.

And this question made the tears in your eyes fall down really quickly, “Nothing’s right..” you cried into the phone, which made Jeonghan’s heart squeeze painfully. He knew that things had to be rough if you were crying.

His voice immediately became softer, “You’re crying..” he whispered, worried, “Are you home?” Jeonghan asked gently.

“Yes..” you sobbed, just unable to get it under control. He immediately hung up, and not knowing what to do, you started to cry even louder.

You snuggled into the sheets of your bed, muffling the sounds of your cries. And like that, you slowly fell asleep one more time, with tears still coming down your eyes.

The sound of thunder outside made you open your eyes, with your heart beating rapidly. Your breathing was irregular, and you felt hot. Especially from your back. And that was when you finally realized that a pair of slender arms were wrapped around your waist, keeping you close.

“Did you sleep well, angel?” you heard Jeonghan’s concerned voice behind you.

The boy left a soft kiss on your neck, making you shudder at his gentle action. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” he snuggled closer to you, and you turned around to look at him.

You knew that you probably looked awful, with your eyes red from crying, cheeks puffy from the tears that rolled down past few hours, and your hair messy.

But there he was, laying next to you, looking like a literal angel. His long, black hair was spreaded peacefully all over the pillow. He was dressed in fresh clothes, as he probably took a quick shower after the practice. His eyes shone beautifully, holding all of the stars from the universe in them. So ethereal, and so unreal.

You were glad that he was here with you.

“I’m s-sorry..” you whispered, with your voice starting to break, “I shouldn’t have called you. You’re busy preparing for your new album, and you still probably haven’t eaten.. it was selfish of me to not think about-” Jeonghan quickly shushed you by placing his lips on top of yours, connecting you in a sweet and full of love kiss.

The boy smiled softly, and tugged the messy hair strand behind your ear, “Stop saying nonsense, sweetheart.” he muttered, “You know that you can call me everytime, no matter what. I’m always here for you, love.” he said, to which a fresh turn of tears appeared in the corners of your eyes.

Jeonghan chuckled lightly and reached to gently wipe the tears from your eyes with his thumb.

“I feel like I’m a burden to you, Jeonghan.”

The silence in your room was overwhelming, only interrupted by the rain tapping against the window. You looked at Jeonghan, and your breath immediately hitched in your lungs as you found him staring at you, stunned. Your eyes wandered on his face, trying to catch every single emotion that he showed.

“I.. feel like I’m something that’s stopping you from what you’re doing. That..” your voice broke, feeling how your throat started to clench, “That I shouldn’t be with you.”

And even if you wanted him to scream at you, ask if you lost your mind, tell you that you’re stupid for thinking like that… nothing like this happened.

The boy only reached both of his hands to you, while scooping your fragile body and placing you on top of him. The steady beating of his heart was calming you, and his warmth soothed your nerves. You placed your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent that immediately made you feel safe.

“I’m sorry.” Jeonghan whispered, “I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.” his voice was fragile, almost not hearable.

“However, I need you to know that you’re never a burden to me. Never.” his hands were wandering over your back, caressing it gently.

“I need you in my life, y/n.” he stated, and a sob escaped from your lips which made Jeonghan shiver, “Because without you, I’m no one.”

“Liar.” you mumbled through your tears, “No, I’m speaking the truth. From the depth of my heart.”

After a while, when you finally calmed down, the boy started once again, “You can’t let someone make you feel that you’re a failure, because you’re not. I love every part of you, every single one, my angel. You’re the most precious person I’ve ever met, and you’re not unlovable, don’t even let yourself think like that.” he kept reassuring you, your tears falling onto the collar of his black t-shirt, making it damp.

“T-thank you..” you whispered, feeling a pleasant warmth spreading in your chest.

You truly needed to hear those words.

Suddenly, the boy turned both of you over, to which now he was above you, supporting himself with his arms. The sight of Jeonghan’s mesmerizing eyes above you, made you gasp for a breath.

“I promised to love and care about you, didn’t I?” he said with a cocky grin, and you immediately looked at your promise ring that was on your ring finger.

In the moment of your distraction, he leaned down, and left a kiss on your forehead, “I love this part of you,” he said, then he kissed your temple, “and this,” he kissed your cheek, to which to let out a small chuckle, “and this” he kissed your nose, “and I love this the most.” he left a hungry and full of love kiss on your lips, to which you immediately reciprocated.

When Jeonghan pulled back, the sound of your sweet giggles was heard in the room, immediately warming the cockles of his heart. It was his favorite sound. He could listen to it everyday and all the time.

Another turn of butterfly kisses was left all over your face to which you laughed out loud brightly.

“I love you.” Jeonghan said suddenly, with a big grin on his lips, and love visible in his eyes.

You placed your hand on his cheek, making him melt under your gentle touch as he slowly closed his eyes.

Those three words were still making an impression on you. Especially when Jeonghan spoke those words. To you.

“I love you more.” you replied, and brought him closer to you, connecting both of you in another kiss.

“Okay sweetheart, I promised to also care for you, so we need to eat something.” he said, and a groan left your lips at the bare thought of getting out of bed and preparing the food.

“But don’t worry, I ordered takeout food for us.” he added, to which your eyes immediately shone with excitement, making Jeonghan laugh at your cute reaction.

He truly loved you.

That’s how Jeonghan was completing his promise of loving and caring about you. Because if Yoon Jeonghan did make a promise, you had to expect him to fulfill it.

And he always did it flawlessly.

reuploads and likes are highly appriciated ♡

#guys this made my eye bawl help #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan #seventeen #jeonghan fanfic #svt fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan imagines

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krirebr · 1 year ago

Text

I Know I Should Know Better 5

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Word Count: ~4.9k

Summary: Curtis has been working as your body guard for almost two years now. Standing by and watching you work and party your life away is becoming more and more difficult, but is there anything he can do about it?

Warnings: Mild angst, adult themes, complicated power dynamics, minor age difference (not explicit in this part, but reader is mid-twenties and Curtis is early thirties), explicit language, anxiety, SMUT! FINALLY! She's starting to have a nice time, you guys!! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: You guys!!! This is a nice chapter!! Where nice things happen to nice people! Oh my god! Did you ever think you'd see the day???

Thanks to @thezombieprostitute who suggested the meal Curtis makes here. And additional thanks to everyone else who sent me suggestions! You're all the best!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about these two! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Curtis woke up to the sun gently coming in through your drapes, memories of the night before filtering in with it. He’d been scared for you, really scared, rather than the baseline of concern he’d had since he’d met you. You’d told him a little about what had happened as you lay in bed together before you’d both drifted off to sleep. How people just kept coming after you, how you didn’t understand why anyone cared in the first place. He’d gently wiped the tears from your cheeks as you spoke. It didn’t feel like enough.

Now, you were still asleep, still curled up in his arms, your back to him, snoring softly. He chuckled to himself. That was a much more interesting story, he thought, than any of the bullshit your exes were currently peddling. Your soft little snores, the way you’d snuggled up to him in your sleep, how right now was the most peaceful he’d ever seen you. He was split between wanting the world to see how you really were and knowing he would do everything he could to shield you from their gaze.

He wasn’t sure what would happen when you woke up. Would you regret it? Would you see how little he could actually offer you? You already had everything and all he could give you was himself. But that’s what he would do if you’d let him, he’d give you all of himself.

You began to stir in his arms and he loosened his grip a little. After a few moments, you rolled over to face him, still sleepy and soft.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” you replied, almost shyly, not quite looking him in the eye. You seemed a little lost for a moment and Curtis searched for something to say. Before he’d found anything, you scooted forward and tucked yourself into his body. His arms adjusted to hold you tight without him ever having the conscious thought to do so. You just fit, like you’d always been made to be there. “I’m glad you’re still here,” you said, so softly he almost didn’t hear you.

“Where else would I be?” he mumbled into your hair. You shrugged, curled up tight against him. “I wasn’t sure you’d still want me here,” he said lowly, feeling dumb and exposed as soon as the words left his lips.

You looked up at that. “Why wouldn’t I want you here?”

It was his turn to shrug. “Emotions were running really high last night. I’d get it, you know, if you woke up feeling differently.”

You looked him right in the eye and pursed your lips, but you didn't say anything, not right away. He could tell you were thinking, choosing your words carefully. He braced himself. “It's really nice,” you finally said, “waking up with you.”

“Yeah?” He asked, unable to help the pleased grin that took over his face. “Well, that's good.”

“Yeah,” you said so earnestly, “I think it is.”

He started to duck his head bashfully but you darted forward and kissed him before he was fully able. It was quick, just a peck. You leaned back and chuckled a bit, embarrassed. He couldn’t have that.

“Sorry,” you started to say, “was that–”

He had you on your back and was hovering over you before you were able to finish your thought. “Yeah,” he grinned as he held himself up with one hand on either side of your head. “How about this? This ok?”

You laughed, more carefree than maybe he’d ever heard you. It was an incredible sound—one he wanted to hear as often and for as long as he could.

“Yeah,” you said, wearing that blinding smile you were known for. “Yeah, that’s just fine,” before you put an eager hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to you, surging up to meet his lips at the same time. It was different, kissing you now than it was last night, when you were distraught, your face wet with tears, and you were desperate for anyone to actually look at you. This morning you smiled into it. This morning he swallowed your giggles as his hand brushed a ticklish spot on your side. This morning you tasted happy.

The two of you stayed like that, his mouth attached to yours, his hands lazily exploring your body. He couldn’t quite believe he was here, doing this. Making out with you in your bed. Couldn’t believe he was allowed to do this. Which then, of course, reminded him. He pulled back, sitting up but still straddling you. You raised your head to try to chase his lips, but he gently pushed your shoulders back into the mattress. You looked at him in question. “When does Michelle usually get here?” he asked.

You groaned. “No,” you said. “Don’t do that. I’m not ready for real life yet.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You’d rather she walk in on us like this?” He liked Michelle fine, most days, but he knew that if this news wasn’t something she was properly prepared for, it’d be a disaster.

“Ugh, no, obviously not,” you grimaced. You twisted your upper body so as not to dislodge Curtis, and stretched your arm to grab your phone off your nightstand. You looked at the time and groaned again. “We have less than an hour,” you whined.

“Ok,” he said and slid off of you. You pouted and he couldn’t help but grin as he leaned down to place one last peck on your lips before he got out of bed. “I’ll get out of your hair then.”

As he started to gather his clothes from the floor, you asked in a small voice, “But just for now, right?”

He looked up to see your head was down, gaze fixed on your hands. He strode over to your side of the bed and took your face in both hands. “Yes,” he said, “just for now.” He placed a short, gentle kiss on your lips and then went back to his pile of clothing, sitting down on the foot of the bed to put his pants on.

“You’re working tonight?” you asked.

“Uh,” he stood up to shimmy his jeans over his ass, “maybe? I mean, I’m scheduled, but I guess it depends on what Lloyd says.” He was pretty sure it was late enough in the morning to head straight to your manager’s office and turn in his resignation.

“Lloyd?” you asked as you gave him a confused stare. “Why would he have anything to say about it?”

“Well, he’s technically my boss, so he’s the one I’ll have to go quit to. I don’t know if he’ll want me to be done right away or stay on til they replace me.” It seemed obvious to him, but it became clear very quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as you were immediately filled with panic.

“You’re quitting? Why? You can’t!”

“I have to. This is a massive conflict of interest. I can’t properly protect you if I’m involved with you. Once people know, they’ll never let me.”

“We can’t tell people!”

Your words were like ice water down his back. He took a deep breath and tried not to feel hurt, dirty. You hadn’t let on yet that you were embarrassed by him. You deserved the benefit of the doubt. He needed to let you explain. “Why can’t we tell people?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

He waited for you to answer but you didn’t say anything, just kept shaking your head. He crawled back up the bed and settled next to you. “Hey,” he said gently and then whispered your name. When you finally looked at him, he pleaded, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

Instead, all you said was “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, I just need to know. Why don’t you want to tell people?”

You looked away, staring into the corner of the room. It was a few minutes before you quietly said, “If everyone knows, they won’t let me keep this.”

He sighed. He wanted to say that it was your life and you were the only one that controlled it. He wanted to tell you that it was time you started standing up for yourself. He wanted to make you understand that your choices were yours alone.

But the actual truth was that you were maybe right. There were many people involved in your life, and while they might not be able to forbid you from seeing him (at least he didn’t think they could do that), they probably would make things very difficult for both of you. He understood why you’d want to prevent that.

As he tried to figure out what to say, the perfect combination of words that would convince you that everything would be alright, that he wouldn’t let anyone take him away from you, you looked up at him with big eyes and whispered, “You’re the only person I trust to keep me safe.”

Well, fuck. He leaned his head back against your headboard. What was he supposed to say to that? This was the wrong call. He knew it was. But. “Ok,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I won’t quit today. But this isn’t a permanent solution, alright? This is just until we figure out a better plan. I don’t want to keep this secret forever.”

You nodded quickly. “Yeah,” you said. “I don’t want to either! Just until we figure out the best way to handle it.” You knelt up and softly pressed your lips against his. “Thank you,” you sighed. “For everything.”

He bumped your forehead with his. “I have to go. But I’ll be back tonight.”

You nodded. “Wait, give me your phone.” He pulled it out of his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to you. You messed around with it for a moment and then handed it back. Your contact information was pulled up, but you’d changed the fake name used by everyone who worked for you to a simple 🩵. “So if anyone sees any messages or something, they won’t know it’s me.”

He smiled down at it. “And what am I going to be in your phone?”

You grinned, taking your own phone out and messing with it for a moment. Then you turned it around to reveal his name replaced with 😾. You laughed hysterically as he went straight for that ticklish spot in your side.

It was wild, the way time started to fly by. You were as busy as ever, your team desperate to rehabilitate your image and that meant Curtis was busy too, always by your side. It was difficult, in those working moments, to not reach out and hold your hand or place a gentle kiss on your cheek or a soft, soothing hand on your back. Instead, he’d stay back at a safe distance, watching you as you were interviewed in a bland hotel suite by a long line of journalists, or were gussied up by a team of stylists in your living room, or tried to convince a director that you were what they wanted in a dimly lit restaurant.

But in these moments, he was allowed to do a little more than before and it usually involved texting. The two of you texted a lot. Usually from across the same room. He’d send things like:

You look so beautiful. I wish I could touch you.

You’re so good at this. I’m really proud of you.

It amazed him that when he had these thoughts, he was allowed to tell you. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get over it. And then he got to watch you read them. The way your face would soften, the smallest, most private smile on your lips. And he would ache to reach out to you all over again.

You both did your best to steal private moments together. A quick kiss in a dark hallway, a quiet moment by your pool disguised as him communicating details about an upcoming appearance. The best were the nights when you didn’t have any other commitments and he would send Jensen home early with the promise that Curtis was “right behind him, I just gotta make sure everything’s secure. You know how nervous she gets.” And once Jake was gone, he’d walk into the living room to find you already dressed down, ordering takeout on your phone, and waiting for him on the couch with a happy smile on your face. While those nights were few and far between, they were his favorite.

When somehow almost two months had passed without him realizing it, he received a text from you late one morning.

I don’t have ANYTHING to do today! I just got rid of Michelle. Come over and hang out? Please?

He grinned down at his phone. An entire day alone with you was more than he could ask for. But.

How about I come pick you up instead and we spend the day at my house? I’ll even cook for you tonight.

He put his phone down and tried not to anxiously wait for your response. You’d never done anything together outside of your house. But he wanted you in his space. Wanted to see what you looked like there. It was just a moment before his phone buzzed with an answer.

Oh! Yeah, that sounds nice. Ok!

He picked you up on his motorcycle at the small door that was hidden in the privacy fence in your backyard. It avoided any paparazzi that might be staking out your front gate. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, once you put his spare helmet on, there was no way to tell it was you. You hopped on behind him, and he tried not to react too much when you slipped your hands around his chest and pressed your body into his back. But he did savor your closeness the whole ride back to his house.

He stood nervously in his front room as you wandered around it, taking everything in. Your fingers lightly ran over the knick knacks on his bookshelves as you seemed to read every title. You stroked the afghans laid over the back of his couch. You grinned at his old teddybear hidden in the corner. “Oh wow,” you said softly to the room as a whole but mostly just yourself.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, what?”

You turned to him and smiled, and he swore that at that moment the light came through the window to perfectly hit your face. “There’s so much of you here,” you said. “I love it. This is such a nice place.”

He couldn’t explain why that had him so bashful all of a sudden. “Uh,” he said again, eloquent as ever, as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t know, it’s kind of small, but–”

You shook your head vigorously. “No,” you said, firmly, “It’s cozy. It’s nice. I really love it.”

You sat down on his couch and, drawn by your gravitational pull, he hurried to join you. As soon as he sat down, you pressed yourself into him. He wrapped his arm around you. He wanted to broach something, so he took a moment to find his words. “How long have you been in your house?” he asked, trying to keep his tone casual.

“I bought it when I was 18. My mom liked it and I didn’t really know what I was looking for, so it was easiest to just go along with her. And then she hired the decorator and–” You shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, grabbing your hand with the one not slowly running up and down your arm, “you ever think about moving?”

You shrugged again. “I don’t know. Sort of feel like I’d need a good reason.”

“Not liking your house seems like a pretty good reason to me.”

You laughed. “Yeah, maybe,” you said as you rested your head on his chest.

In the early evening, you both moved to the kitchen so he could get started on dinner. He set you up on a stool at the kitchen island with a glass of wine and strict instructions to not lift a finger. He went about his work, getting all the ingredients together as he chatted with you about the scripts you’d been reading.

“I don’t know,” you said, “everyone’s freaking out because I don’t have the next thing lined up, but every time I think about spending the next however many months making one of these bullshit scripts, I just– I don’t know. I wish there were something better.”

Keeping his eyes on the cutting board in front of him as he started to peel garlic, he said, “Maybe it’s a sign to wait. Let something better come to you.”

You sighed. “That’d be a big risk. With everything the way it is right now, how people see me, I think I’m gonna have to make some bullshit, show that I’m employable before anyone offers me something better. And I honestly think Wilford would have a literal heart attack if I even suggested taking a break right now.”

Curtis bit his tongue and kept his thoughts on Wilford to himself. But he did turn around to face you as he leaned back on the counter. “Can I ask you a question?”

You laughed, but he could tell you were a little wary. “You’re clearly dying to,” you said, giving him a go-ahead wave.

“Do you like it? Acting?”

You just stared at him for a moment. “Sorry,” you said, shaking yourself a bit, “I just don’t think anyone’s ever asked me that before. In twenty years of doing this.” You started to curl in on yourself and he wanted to reach out to you, get you to stop. But it also felt important, this moment, letting you process it. “I guess I don’t know? I’ve never really thought about it before. God, wow, that’s– that’s stupid. But. I’m good at it, I think. Decent, at least. And I have no idea what I’d do with myself if I wasn’t doing this.”

He turned back to the garlic to give you a break. “That might be a good reason to take a break. See if you miss it. And give you a chance to see what else you like.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, maybe.”

Before Curtis could say anything else, the back door opened and Edgar stumbled in. He seemed startled to see you both there. “Oh,” he said and then his gaze narrowed in on you and he stopped in his tracks “Oh! You’re– Uh, hi.”

“Edgar,” Curtis called out, trying to get the attention off of you. “I thought you were with Yona all day today.”

Edgar glanced over at Curtis like he was seeing him for the first time. “Huh? Oh yeah, I am, but we were nearby and I realized I’d forgotten something so I thought I’d come grab it.” He looked down at the food Curtis was preparing and then back up at you. “Oh! Sorry. Sorry. I’ll get out of your way. Just give me a minute.”

Curtis rolled his eyes and you just laughed and then held out your hand. “Hi Edgar,” you said and gave your own name. “I’ve heard a little about you. It’s really nice to meet you.”

Edgar paused awkwardly then reached out his own hand to shake yours. “Uh, yeah, nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Obviously.”

Curtis suppressed his groan as well as he could. “Edgar,” he said, very seriously. “Her privacy is obviously very important to her, so it’s critical that you not tell anyone about this, ok? Not even Yona.”

Edgar looked over at him, took in his expression, and then nodded. “Yeah, of course. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Curtis said, sincerely.

Edgar nodded again, then darted off to his room to grab whatever he’d forgotten. Just a minute later he was back, careening out the door with a “Bye! Have fun!” called over his shoulder.

Curtis sighed. “So, uh, that was Edgar,” he said to you.

You were looking fondly at the door, then back to him. “How long has he been living here?”

“About six months, just since he turned eighteen and aged out of the system.”

You nodded and took a sip of your wine, but your eyes stayed on him. He ducked his head, not sure what to do with how you were looking at him, like you could really see him. “What?” he asked when he couldn’t come up with anything else to say.

“Nothing,” you said, “you’re just– You’re a really good man, Curtis.”

He really didn’t know what to say to that, so he turned back to what he was doing. “I’m probably making too much food,” he mumbled.

Once dinner was ready, he herded you over to the small kitchen table and brought over the plated food, pasta aglio e olio, and blistered green beans. You oohed and ahhed appropriately as he poured you another glass of wine, along with one for himself. He watched you carefully as you took your first bite. You closed your eyes and moaned, just a little bit. “Holy smokes,” you said, once you’d swallowed. “This is delicious. You always cook like this?”

He puffed up a little at your obvious, sincere enjoyment of his food. “Sometimes,” he said. “When I have a good reason to.” At your smile, he couldn’t resist leaning across the table and kissing you, his big hand on the back of your neck. You sighed into it, and it took everything in him to not knock everything off the table so he could take you right there. There was something about having you in his house, in his kitchen, dressed so casually, just you, without any of the extra bullshit that followed you around, that made you even more radiant than you were on the most glamorous red carpet. You were here, just you, and you were beautiful and he wanted you. So much. He made himself sit back down and focus on his meal.

You had a nice, easy conversation as you ate. But he couldn’t really tell you what it was about. He kept looking at your lips as you spoke. He loved your voice and the way it washed over him. You talked with your hands and he found himself mesmerized.

When you were both done eating, he started to clear away the plates, but you stopped him. “Curtis,” you said, your voice so much huskier than before, “I’d really like to see your bedroom.”

He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed your hand and led you to his room.

It wasn’t that the two of you hadn’t done anything before, but you’d both taken his suggestion to go slow seriously. So while you kissed whenever you could and the nights on your couch often resulted in make-outs, you hadn’t had sex yet. He wanted to, of course he did, but he knew enough about your previous relationships to not want to rush anything. So he decided that he’d do his best to make you feel wanted but never pressured and waited for you to let him know when you were ready.

As soon as you were in his room, you dropped his hand and began undressing. He took his cue from you and ripped his own shirt off before fumbling with his pants in his eagerness. He marveled, once you were down to your underwear, that you weren’t wearing some expensive lingerie set. Just basic mismatched cotton pieces, obviously chosen for comfort over anything else. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

When he was standing in just his boxer briefs, you stopped and stared at him. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” you said and he immediately felt his whole face turn pink. You laughed, so gently, so loving, and added “You clearly don’t hear that enough.”

He pulled you to him and kissed you, hard and desperate. His hands gripped your hips for a moment and then traveled down, hooking into your panties, breaking the kiss so he could pull them all the way down your legs. He paused when he reached the floor, letting you step out of them before wrapping a hand around your thigh and dropping the softest kiss on your hip. You took off your bra and dropped it. He stayed there on the ground, for just a moment, looking up at your naked body, in awe of everything you were. You looked down at him and ran a hand over his buzzcut. “Sit on the bed,” you whispered. As soon as he’d done as he was told, you knelt in front of him. You must have been able to tell that he was about to check in, tell you you didn’t have to. “Please,” you said, “for once, let me take care of you.” You pulled his boxers off him and then wrapped a hand around his length, stroking up and down a few times, before taking him in your mouth. “Fuck,” he whimpered and threw his head back. The sounds you were making as you worked more of him into your mouth, your throat, eager little moans around his cock. It was very quickly becoming too much. One of your hands cupped his balls and he looked down to see the other between your thighs, fingers disappearing inside yourself. It was too much. He was hurtling towards the edge too quickly. “Wait, wait,” he gasped. You paused and looked up, a question in your eyes. “I want to be inside of you,” he pleaded. “Please, please.”

You pulled off of him with a pop and reached up to take his face in both hands, giving him one of the filthiest kisses he’d ever had, wet and hot and so full of need. Then you pushed him down so he was lying on the bed and crawled up to join him. You lay next to each other and kissed some more your legs tangled together, gasping every time his cock brushed against your pussy. “Yes, please,” you cried, “I want you inside me now.” He rolled over to his nightstand, grabbing a condom out of the drawer and quickly putting it on. Then he kneeled over you, one gentle hand on your cheek and the other lining himself up with your cunt. He slowly pushed into you and your eyes rolled back in your head, soft little chants of “yes” and “please” leaving your lips. He moved his big thumb onto your clit as he slowly worked more and more of himself inside of you, moving it around in circles as you clenched around him. He could feel you getting close to the edge as your chanting turned to wordless little cries.

“Go on,” he said, as he rocked into you, his pace quickly becoming frantic. “Go on, let go, I’ve got you.” You did, coming hard around him, soaking him with your juices, your body shaking. He wasn’t far behind you, grunting through his release.

He collapsed on top of you as you both tried to catch your breath. Then you started laughing, a soft little thing. “Holy shit,” you said, incredulous. “Oh my god, Curtis.”

He chuckled, too, still coming back down to earth. “Yeah,” he said, as he peppered your face with kisses. “Yeah, I know.”

Curtis woke up in the morning to the sound of you on your phone. “I’m fine, Michelle. I just hung out with a friend last night and stayed at her house.” He reached across his bed and brushed his hand across your lower back. You looked down and smiled at him as you continued your conversation. “No, nothing like that. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes at him conspiratorially, as you said, “Yes, I’ll be home soon. I promise.” He sat up, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder, then left you to your conversation and started getting ready for the day.

Michelle had freaked out when she’d gotten to your house that morning and you weren’t there, so you weren’t able to have the lazy morning together that Curtis would have liked. But that was alright, he’d gotten an entire day and night with you. That would have to be enough. He tamped down the part of himself that knew it never would be.

You both got dressed, you wearing your clothes from yesterday, along with a borrowed plain, dark blue baseball cap to try to obscure your identity. Once you were ready, he walked you to the end of his block, right before things started to get a little busier. You’d decided that the coffee shop another block from his house would be a decent place to get an Uber from. He stood on the corner, holding your hand, not quite ready to let you go yet.

You looked around cautiously then smiled. “I think we’re alone now,” you sing-songed then laughed, giving him a short, sweet kiss. “Thank you for everything.” Then you dropped his hand and walked away.

He returned to his house, dreaming of a day your time together wouldn’t have to end this way.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @before-we-get-started @veltana @andydrysdalerogers @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whosana-maria @dancer3205 @ijustneedpopcorn @mrsevans90 @pekusofixus @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @jamneuromain @kmc1989 @geminiflanagansblog @stcrrjoon @blogbog710 @blackhawkfanatic

#curtis everett x reader #curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #bodyguard au #snowpiercer #chris evans fanfiction #fanfic #bodyguard!curtis everett #bodyguard!curtis everett x actress!reader #reader insert #i know i should know better #kris wrote something

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alittlegiraffe · 3 months ago

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Title: Breaking Point – Part 2

The night after your panic attack, Marshall stayed home with you. He canceled his studio session for the day and stayed by your side, refusing to leave you alone. You’d never really experienced this side of him before—the protective, almost tender Marshall who put everything else aside just to make sure you were okay.

But it wasn’t just about the panic attack anymore. It was about the unspoken weight between you two, the fear that had been building in both of you since the overdose. You didn’t say it out loud, but you both knew something was off, something had changed, and no matter how many times Marshall tried to convince you everything was fine, it wasn’t.

The next few days were a mix of quiet reassurance and underlying tension. Marshall was constantly at your side, never too far from you, making sure you had everything you needed. And yet, in the silence of the house, when he wasn’t speaking or touching you, you could feel him carrying a heaviness you didn’t quite understand.

You didn’t want to talk about it. You didn’t want to say the words that were swirling in your head—that you were scared he was going to slip back into the person he was before, the person who wasn’t always present, the person who could disappear without a trace.

It was early morning, and Marshall was still asleep next to you, his arm slung around your waist. You had woken up from another nightmare, the same one you’d been having since the overdose—the one where he wasn’t there, where you lost him all over again. The pounding in your chest, the shortness of breath, it all felt too real.

You shifted slightly, trying not to wake him, but it wasn’t the same. The room felt suffocating, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. You pulled the covers back and stood, wrapping yourself in a blanket.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. That even though Marshall was here, even though he was trying his best to reassure you, he was keeping something from you. You’d always been able to read him so well. His eyes, his body language, his words—they all told a story.

The last thing you wanted to do was push him away, but you couldn’t ignore the sense of unease that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

You paced around the living room for a while, trying to gather your thoughts, but it wasn’t long before Marshall appeared in the doorway, sleep still heavy in his eyes. "You okay?" His voice was rough from sleep, but there was an edge of concern in it, and for the first time in days, you felt like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t the only one struggling.

You nodded, but he saw right through you, as usual.

“Come here,” he said softly, walking toward you, his arms opening. You stepped into them without hesitation, feeling the familiar weight of his embrace, the warmth that made everything feel just a little more bearable.

"I’m just… I don’t know. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to need you like this," you whispered into his chest, the words coming out in a rush. "I hate feeling like I can't breathe without you. Like something’s gonna happen again and I won’t be able to stop it."

Marshall’s arms tightened around you, and you felt him exhale deeply, like he’d been holding his breath too. “You’re not crazy for feeling like that, [Y/N],” he murmured. “I get it. I do. And I’m sorry. I don’t want you to feel like this. But we’re both… we’re both working through some shit. And I can’t fix it for you. But I can promise you this—I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, baby.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, just let his words sink in, absorbing the comfort of him being there. But then, a different thought crossed your mind—the one you hadn’t dared voice before.

"What if I can’t trust you to stay?" you asked, voice trembling. "What if it happens again, and you’re gone before I even realize it? What if I lose you for good?"

Marshall pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. His eyes searched yours, looking for something, as if making sure you weren’t just saying this out of fear.

“I promise you, I’m not going anywhere, [Y/N]. Not for any reason. Not now. Not ever. But if I’m being honest… I don’t know how to fix it either. I can’t take away the fear, but I can be here, in this moment, with you. For you.”

You let the words hang in the air between you, both of you feeling the raw honesty. It was more than you had expected, more than you could’ve hoped for in that moment.

He sighed heavily, resting his forehead against yours. "But I don’t want you to carry this alone. I hate that you feel like this. And I hate that I’m the one who caused it." His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. "I fucked up, [Y/N]. I didn’t mean for you to feel like this. And if I could go back and change things, I would. But right now, I can’t, and all I can do is promise that I won’t leave you again. Not unless it’s to get help, or work on myself—anything to make sure I’m here, fully present, for you.”

A few days passed, and although you could feel the tension between you both slowly easing, you still couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of fear that clung to you like a second skin. Marshall had done everything he could to show you he was here, that he wasn’t going anywhere. But the fragility of the situation still weighed heavily on both of your hearts.

One night, after a long day in the studio, Marshall came home to find you curled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. He sat down next to you, pulling you into his arms as usual. But tonight, something felt different. He felt different.

You looked up at him and for the first time in days, there was a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes. He smiled at you softly, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I know it’s been rough, but I’m not giving up on us, [Y/N]. You don’t have to keep fighting this alone."

You nodded, letting the warmth of his words settle in your chest. He was here. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that he wasn’t going anywhere. The fear might not vanish completely, but in that moment, you realized it wasn’t the fear of losing him that kept you going—it was the hope that together, you could make it through anything.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

#eminem #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers x reader

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its-echo-song · 1 month ago

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Childhood AU Ch 1.

“Come on! You can do it!” Donny calls from the branches of a large tree, leaning down, gripping on to one and holding his hand out. “Here! Just make it far enough to grab my hand and I’ll help you up!”

“I don’t think I was made for this!” I call through huffs of effort as I grab onto the next branch, hauling myself up onto it and taking a moment to catch my breath. Donny laughs. “You think I was? Look at me!” I give him a questioning glance. “You’re the one up there.” “I’m the one that looks like the Pillsbury dough boy.” I laugh, shaking my head. “Shut up! You do not!” I pull myself closer, finally grabbing onto his hand and he helps pull me onto the thicker branch where he sits. He shrugs. “That’s what mom says, but she also says I’ll grow out of it once I start doing sports.” “That’s a mean thing to say, Donny.” He furrows his brows, giving me a confused look. “Not really? I mean- it sounds that way but you don’t know her like that, she doesn’t mean it that way.” I’ve been to his house a few times, his mom is rough- usually yelling at him or his sister over unfinished chores or being too loud. When his dad is home she’s either fighting with him or gone.

“Well- you don’t look like that, either way.” He flashes me his usual, carefree grin. “I’m not worried about it! Anyway, we’re almost there, we’ve just gotta get a few feet higher and we’ll be able to see it.” “It better be as cool as you say it is.” “I promise.” We start climbing again, finally reaching as near to the top of the tree as we can. He points and I squint out to the distance- he’s right. Someone’s building a castle out past the park. “Woah!” I lean forward, squinting and trying to take in more detail. “It looks huge!” “I wanna go see it, but it’s so far.” I nod. “Yeah, we’d have to get your mom to drive us.” “She won’t, she doesn’t like that park.” “Why not?” He shrugs. “There’s one closer so why would she go all the way out there?” “Maybe we could take a day and walk. Bring snacks, something to drink… I wish I had a bike, too, it would be easier that way.” I don’t realize where my footing is, when I shift to look back at him I slip. There’s a long second where all I can think is I’m going to die- then everything goes too fast for me to process as I tumble downward through the branches. I try to grab on to them, find one that can catch me, but several snap with the force of my fall. There’s a strangely dull thudding noise, the wind gets knocked out of me, and I hear Donny screaming from the top of the tree. I try to keep my eyes open, I can’t tell if they’re blurry because my glasses are gone or from how hard I hit the ground, but eventually I can’t control it anymore and I slip into darkness.

I have to force them back open, struggling to regain control of my brain. Once I’ve managed it, though, my other senses seem to follow suit, restarting with a slow fade in. I recognize an extremely familiar sound, ma crying. I turn my head to the side and she grabs my hand. “Harvey! Honey, you’re-” She takes a break for a moment to sniffle, stifling her tears. “You’re in the hospital.” I try to respond, but my mouth is so dry that my tongue sticks to the roof of it. I just stare at her, hoping she’ll understand that I understand. “You had a pretty big fall, but you’re going to be okay. It’s going to be okay.” It’s more like she’s reassuring herself than she is me, as she repeats it a few more times. Eventually I fall back asleep.

When I wake up again I feel a little less groggy, sitting up and looking over to my right- instead of ma, Donny is sitting in the chair next to my bed. He looks up as I move, letting out an excited gasp. “Hey! I’m glad you’re awake!” I nod, still not feeling like speaking with how thirsty I am. I gesture for a cup. “Oh, dad asked the nurse earlier, they said while you’re waking up you shouldn’t have a cup cause you’ll be groggy but they have this sponge on a stick thingy-” He holds it up. “Sponge water!” I take it from him, thankful for anything I can get at this point. A few passes like this and I finally feel like I can talk without rasping. “Thanks Donny- your dads here?” “Yeah, he let me skip school. Mom wasn’t happy about it but I promised I’d work extra hard so I don’t get behind.” “I’m sorry.” “You shouldn’t be! If anyone should be apologizing it should be me. The tree was my stupid idea.” “I still have my own brain, not like you made me.” “I still feel bad.” “It’s alright- not like you knew. It was kinda stupid of me not to look at what I was doing anyway.” “At least you’re okay though. I thought you were going to be dead when I was climbing down.”

“Ugh- I thought so too… We missed the history quiz.” He laughs. “Good, I didn’t study.” “Mrs Brooks is going to make you take it tomorrow.” “Oh well. You’re more important.” I grin at him, laughing lightly- which sends pain through my body, but I ignore it. “Don’t let your mom hear that.” “She’d kill me, for sure.” The door to the room swings open, Donny’s dad and my mom step into the room. “Donny, we’ve gotta go home.” He says, giving me a sympathetic glance. “Sorry, Harvey. I hope you get better soon.” Donny stands up, only to be ushered to the door by his dad with a hand between his shoulder blades. “Uh- bye Harvey!” “I’ll see you tomorrow!” I wave at him just before the door closes behind them. Ma stands next to the bed, fretting over my injuries- checking them, though I don’t think she’s actually supposed to do that if I’m not her patient. “Ma, I’m fine!” She huffs out a breath, stepping back and looking at me with teary eyes. “Do you know what could’ve happened to you? You could’ve died!” “But I’m okay! I promise!” “You- They brought you here and I was on shift and nobody would tell me what was going on. I thought you-” He voice breaks and she begins crying again. “Harvey, I can’t lose anyone else. Especially not you. You’re my rock.”

Guilt piles up in my stomach, I avoid her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.” “No, you won’t. I shouldn’t have let you run all over god's green earth on your own like that- Sal and Christy didn’t keep an eye on you and I almost lost you for good.”

“It wasn’t their fault-” “-I know you see it that way but you’re not an adult, honey. They’re responsible for you when you’re over there and they let you get hurt.” “But-” “-I told Sal you and Donny won’t be playing together any more.” “What?! Ma!” Instantly, tears spring into my eyes. “No! Please don’t! He’s my best friend!” “He’s a bad influence.” “He didn’t do anything wrong!” “Harvey, I said no!” She snaps at me and I find myself going quiet. She sighs, slumping into the chair and rubbing her temples. “I’m sorry- I’m doing what’s best for you. I’m trying my hardest here, bud… I’m doing it on my own.” I hate seeing her stress like this, I hate when she feels like she’s failing me. I know she's doing her best, and I’m just stressing her out by fighting. I wipe my tears away and take a breath, trying to swallow down the misery. “I know… you’re doing good, ma.” She gives me a grim smile and grabs my hand. “You know I love you, right? I’ll always love you.” “I know, I love you, too.” It’s not the first time, it probably won’t be the last time, but I’m saying it out of habit more than feelings. Trying to fix her, take away the stress I’m causing. “Can I go home today, though?” She smiles at me, the tension leaving her. “Yeah. I’ll go ask when we can leave.” She stands and relinquishes her grip on my hand. It isn’t until I get home and into my bedroom, hours later, that I finally let myself cry about Donny. It hurts, my head throbs and my ribs send searing pain through me, but the sadness of knowing I won’t be allowed to be his friend anymore aches deeper than the physical wounds.

The hours pass and I remain in my room, wallowing. Ma calls me to dinner and I tell her I’m not hungry, even after she insists I come out to eat, I just tell her I’m too tired to. She sighs and closes my door again, I hear her turn on the tv and start watching some sitcom.

I lay on my back and listen to cheesy dialogue and laugh tracks, trying to figure out what I’m supposed to tell Donny tomorrow.

Eventually I fall asleep, when I get up in the morning ma has already left for work. A note on the counter catches my attention, ‘come straight home from school and be sure to lock the door.’ I sigh, picking it up and crumpling it in my frustration.

I hate sitting here by myself, cleaning, cooking, and pretending I’m not home when someone knocks on the door. Donny had been an escape from it, an excuse to get away from the sounds of fighting neighbors that scare me, from the shouting of someone on the street, from loud bangs that I swear are gunshots.

But what else am I supposed to do? I don’t want to cause trouble, I don’t think ma could handle the stress. It’s already bad enough as it is.

I grab my backpack from beside the door, checking that I have my keys, and lock up behind me before heading to school. Donny is waiting for me outside, as usual. “Hey! How are you feeling? I’m so glad you’re here, I was worried I’d have to deal with Mrs Brooks by myself.” “It’s not like you skipped class, your dad called the school right?” “Yeah but I feel like she’s always mad at me.” “That’s cause you goof off.” He shrugs. “If it’s boring, it’s boring.” “Then don’t complain when she’s mad that you’re not listening.” “Okay, I should’ve known better than to try and get you to sympathize with me.” “What does that mean!?” “Teacher's pet.” He teases, nudging against me and laughing. “Of course you’d take her side, you’re mister perfect.” “Oh, shut up! I just understand why she’s like that, is all.” “Okay, whatever you say.” He starts toward the doors. “Let’s go before we’re late.” I know I have to tell him. Eventually I will, but I don’t want to think about it right now, and I don’t want to tell him while he’s cramming for the test retake. We have until lunch time. After that, I can tell him while we eat. But when the time comes, and we’re sitting in the too-loud cafeteria, I can’t bring myself to broach the subject. It’s Donny who ends up pushing the conversation to a point where I need to say something. “When you’re over today I’ll show you the new secret I found about the game- it’s really cool, there's this hidden area-” “Donny, I can’t come over.” I feel nauseous saying it.

“Oh. Well, okay, tomorrow then.” “No, I mean- my mom said we can’t hang out anymore.” “What?!” “Yeah… I guess we’re just stuck hanging out at school.” “No! That’s not fair! Why?” “Uh-” I’d rather not say, I know he feels bad for me falling in the first place. “I don’t know, she’s just… being unreasonable.” “It’s because of the tree thing, isn’t it?” I look down at the table, staring at my mostly-uneaten sandwich. “Yeah.” “That’s not fair though! You’re okay! And you shouldn’t be grounded because of me! It’s my fault!” “I’m- I’m not grounded. She thinks you’re a bad influence.” He stares at me, jaw dropped. “What?” “She thinks I’d never do something like that… if it weren’t for… you.” “... do you think that?”

“What!? No! Of course not!”

“It’s just… I had to talk you into it and… I mean-”

“No, don’t even go there. It was still my choice. Anyway, it’s not like I died.”

He sighs and slumps down a little. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well- you’ve got other friends, don’t you?”

“But they’re not my best friend! What if I came over and convinced her?”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“Why? She’s gotta at least listen, she can’t just ban us from hanging out forever.”

“I really don’t think she’d like it, it might make her more mad.”

“Okay well… I guess I hope she changes her mind soon, then.”

“Me too.”

#donny tunajsgross #donnytunajsgross #stardew valley darvey #fanfic #darvey childhood au

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