#it's do-able but I'm exhausted and my eyes are killing me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coff33andb00ks · 5 months ago

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Rule Breaker - Pt 1

max verstappen x single mom!reader

{next}

face claim: none, random pinterest find warnings: cursing, max is broody, jos is an asshole, fluff, barely proofread, idk red bull team aside from Max, Checo, and Horner... (y/n's bestie is named after my irl bestie bc she told me to write this, and y/n's son is not named after Magnussen i swear) Summary: Max has it all...right? Besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. Until... You moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles. word count: 4293 auth.note: hiii new to writing for f1 so I'm posting this in the middle of the night and hiding in bed - feedback greatly appreciated. also this is forbidden love/he falls first/friends to enemies to lovers

"Hey Max, come meet the new social media admin."

On his way out, he barely heard the words. But they registered and he immediately turned, knowing how important it was to have a good rapport with the social media personnel. He only had to meet them, then he could leave and go to the team apartment and… He didn't know. Pass time in his sim until he couldn't hold his eyes open. Maybe he'd go for a run until he was close to exhaustion. Or see if Lando was in the country and they could go out together. It was only when he was about to pass out that he was able to sleep and not be plagued with dreams.

His eyes swept the small office, swiveling to focus on the new face. She smiled, giving him a little wave as she set down her slice of pizza.

"Max, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Max."

"Hello," he said, watching as she wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Hi, sorry." She took a sip of her drink and wiped her mouth again. "Sorry – It's so great to meet you."

She was American. Walking over, he extended his hand. "Where are you from?"

Shaking his hand, she smiled up at him. "Well most recently I was with—"

"No, no, where in America," he corrected.

"Oh! North Carolina. I try to keep the country accent to a minimum but sometimes I slip up." She motioned to the pizza box on the desk. "You want a slice?"

No, he had to leave. His work was done, he didn't need to hang around and kill his precious down time. Besides, his diet was strict for the next few days, what with the race coming up. He had to focus on… Within fifteen seconds he was sitting across from her, holding a slice in one hand. One slice wouldn't hurt, he decided as he took a bite. "How long have you been in England?"

"About three weeks?" She glanced at her watch and nodded. "Three weeks tomorrow. I was staying at an Airbnb until a week ago when I moved into my apartment."

He nodded. "Are you going to be based here or go to the races?"

"Races. Gonna be living the glamorous life of travel and hotels and surviving on caffeine and sugar," she said with a roll of her eyes.

"It's not so bad."

"I'm sure I'll get used to it. You've been doing it for, what, half your life now?"

Shrugging, he took a sip of his water. "More than that, really. Are you saying you don't travel?"

"Not like this. I lucked out with my last job because I was able to do it mostly from home. I think I went up to New York or out to Cali maybe six times total? But I know I can do it," she added when his eyebrows lifted. "It'll just take a little getting used to, especially with a little one in tow a lot of the time."

That surprised him. His eyes immediately moved to her hands, which were completely bare of rings. "A little one?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes lighting. "He's three."

"What's his name?" Max asked. It was none of his business about the boy's father, anyway, so he wasn't going to ask about him. And he didn't even care.

"Kevin." Her smile was both shy and sparkling.

His chest tightened. Kevin, he knew, was one of the most loved children in the world. "What's he like?" The words came out and only after saying them he realized he wanted to know.

"He's… He's Kevin." She laughed. "He asks a million questions and will talk to anyone about anything. He's high energy but has laser focus when it's something that interests him – Like the other day I took him to the park. I expected him to be running around and trying out all the swings and stuff, but he spent an hour crawling in the grass following a caterpillar."

"Laser focus can be good at times," Max told her, earning a warm smile.

"I know. He comes by it honest because I do the same thing when I'm working."

"Will you be bringing him to the races?" Finished with his pizza, he shook his head when she nudged the box towards him and sat back to finish his water.

"Yeah. Not all of them, but to the next few. I already talked to Mr. Horner and Wanda about it," she said quickly, as though expecting him to be upset about her bringing her child to work. "He won't be in the way. My best friend – Ellie, she's his godmother – is traveling with me to Imola and Monaco to watch him for me. But her new job starts the first of June so I have to make arrangements before then."

"Does he like racing?"

"He's three," she deadpanned. "He loves anything with cars or trucks."

"You'll have to bring him to the track—"

"He also loves fart jokes and bugs."

Max blinked at her, snorting on a laugh when she grinned at him. "Fair enough."

"I do have to warn you, though," she said carefully, standing to gather the napkins and throw them into the trash. Closing the pizza box, she used a clean napkin to wipe off the desk. "He likes McLaren."

"It's the orange livery isn't it?" Max sighed. When she nodded, he shrugged. "I'll do my best to not hate him."

She giggled, letting out a snort.

And, for the first time in six months, Max felt lighter.

*-*

"There's my lil doodle bug," Viv cooed as Kevin leapt off the couch and ran towards her. Dropping her purse and work bag, she scooped him into a hug. "Hi sweetheart. How was your day, hm?"

Her son grinned, squeezing her tight. "I fell in poop!"

Viv froze for two seconds and leaned back a little. "What kind of poop?"

"Dog. Yes, it was fresh. Yes, he had a bath. Yes, I washed his clothes," Ellie announced as she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. "Your dinner's almost done – How was work?"

Viv kissed her son's cheek and set him down so she could pick up her bags. "I spent the day reading protocols and policies and signing contracts. Oh, and getting my uniform."

Ellie took the knapsack stuffed with team shirts and jackets. "Good thing you love blue huh?"

"No kidding." She glanced over to Kevin, who had climbed back onto the couch and resumed lining his hot wheels along the back. "How was he today?"

"He was fine. You worry too much, mama," Ellie said gently, following y/n to her bedroom. Setting the knapsack down, she took the work bag and reached inside to switch off y/n's work phone. "Ah, ah, you're off now. You don't officially start work until Monday, so they can't expect you to be on call."

"Yes ma'am." Y/n held her hands up in surrender. "I'm gonna change and get him tucked in then I'll eat, promise."

"Perfect. Bridgerton tonight?" Ellie asked on her way out the door.

"You know it!" y/n called after her.

Once she'd changed into sweats and an old t-shirt she went to the living room. "C'mon, doodle bug," she said softly, smiling when Kevin slid off the couch without hesitation. She helped him pack his cars into their cubby, telling him about her boring day at work while she led him to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth. Then to her bedroom, wishing she had been able to afford a larger apartment so he could have his own space. But he didn't seem to mind, and more often than not he ended up crawling into her bed during the night. Something she treasured, because she knew that all too soon he would be "too big" to share a bed with his mama.

Three storybooks and a rambling made up tale about a one-eyed dragon and the princess that saved him from the evil knight later, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and turned off the light. "Good night, sweetheart. Sweet dreams," she whispered before she left the room.

"So I met Max Verstappen today," she told Ellie a few minutes later while fixing her drink.

"Ooo Mr Tu Tu Du Du himself?"

Y/n snorted. "Yeah, that one." The chicken alfredo with a side of broccoli looked so much more appetizing than the greasy pizza she'd had for a late lunch, and she almost felt like she'd cheated on her best friend for ordering takeout.

"What's he like?" Ellie asked, scooping a little more sauce over the noodles.

"He's nice."

"Just nice?"

"I mean, he asked me surface level questions and laughed at my lame jokes? Yeah, nice." Y/n pulled her plate away before Ellie could push more food onto it and sat down to eat. "Everyone's been so nice, Ellie…"

Her friend squeezed her shoulder. "I'm so glad. I have good news, too."

Y/n lifted her eyebrows, unable to speak because her mouth was full.

Ellie sat down, smiling brightly. "I spoke to HR today and Kev will be able to use the daycare."

Gulping down her mouthful of food, y/n gasped. "Oh that's great!" she cried, feeling the weight of worry that had been plaguing her for three weeks lift. "They're sure?"

"Yep, you just have to come in with me before the first and sign a document giving me permission to take him from the premises."

"Excellent, we can go in the morning? I have to go in after lunch to get my kit. Camera, laptop, all that. And Wanda told me to get more shirts so I don't have to worry about laundry while on the road – Oh and I'll be getting our passes."

"Kevin is so excited about Italy. He wants to see the leaning tower of pizza."

"Bless his heart, maybe I can take him one day."

Plans made, she finished her late dinner and did the washing up then changed into her pajamas before settling on the couch to watch Bridgerton. They were rewatching the series so she didn't feel guilty about scrolling her social media, finally biting the bullet and following all of the RedBull people she knew from headquarters.

"You are the bane of my existence… and the object of all my desires."

"Ugh," Y/N and Ellie whined in unison.

"So much nicer than you've had me hard since we met," y/n muttered.

"Let's be real, practically anything is better than that," Ellie agreed.

They finished the episode and y/n headed to bed, keeping as quietly as possible even though she knew her son could sleep through anything. Digging her work phone from her bag, she powered it on to check for any missed messages, smiling slightly when she saw Max had added her on WhatsApp. Adding him back, she was about to turn the phone off again when a new message popped up.

👋🏻

Rolling her eyes, she replied with the same emoji and waited a few seconds before plugging the phone in and turning on do not disturb. She wasn't going to have a late night chat with Max Verstappen of all people. He was probably just being nice, she told herself as she brushed her teeth and did her skincare. Wanda had told her that Max added everyone but rarely messaged anyone aside from Mr. Horner or the engineers.

Besides, she wasn't there to make friends, she reminded herself as she climbed into bed. She could be friendly, but she was there to do a job.

And no flirting with him either, she thought, immediately wondering why the idea had popped into her mind. She would never – okay, she might, if unintentionally. She knew it was a protective thing, knew it was because she had the undesirable need to have everyone like her. But she couldn't do it. Not with him, especially. He'd probably laugh in her face. He was younger than her and probably had a never ending line of gorgeous women waiting to please him.

Before she switched off the lamp she glanced over at her sleeping son. A living, breathing, very real reminder of what she'd gone through just four years ago. And she knew she couldn't go through that again. She wasn't strong enough. She refused to endure that torture and heartache. Kevin needed her, so she had to be strong for him.

Not to mention there was a no hanky-panky clause in her contract?

She had barely closed her eyes when she heard his toddler bed creak. Lying there, she listened to his feet whispering against the rug, smiling in the dark when he slowly slid the covers back.

"Mama," he whispered, and she reached for him. He snuggled close, tucking his head under her chin as she pulled the covers over them.

"Love you, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Love you, Mama."

*-*

"I think it's good, yeah," Max said, eyes scanning the screens of data from the upgrades. "It'll be great for turn seven." Nodding, he listened to the engineers as they went over potential upgrades for Monaco. Once the meeting was finished he grabbed his water bottle and left the room, ignoring the almost immediate phone call from his father. He knew it was his dad without checking, and strode down the hall, intent on leaving and heading straight for the airport to go home. Where he could ignore everything and everyone until Sunday when it was time to fly to Italy.

Rounding the corner, he lurched to a stop as a small child darted in front of him, his giggles echoing down the corridor. The little boy stopped and looked up at Max, blinking slowly.

"Hi!" He waved.

"Hello." Max heard rapid footsteps and glanced up to see y/n iquickly approaching.

"Kevin Scott—"

"I've got him," Max told her with a quick wave, squatting down to the boy's level. "So you're Kevin?"

The boy nodded, light blonde curls bouncing on his head. "I'm Kevin. That's Mama."

"I'm Max. I heard a lot about you."

Kevin's eyes widened. "You know Mama?"

"About this much." Max held his thumb and index finger barely a centimeter apart. He quickly looked to y/n, who was walking up behind Kevin. "I work with her."

"Ohh… She's gonna take me to see cars. D'you like cars Mister Max?" he asked seriously. As though cars were the most important thing in the universe.

"More than I like myself some days," Max quipped, reaching to check the miniature car the boy was holding in his hand. "I drive one like this."

Kevin gasped. "Do you got it here?"

Max chuckled. "We have a lot. Do you want to see them?"

"Please," the boy said, and Max couldn't have said no under any circumstances.

"You have to ask your mum," he said gently. "And maybe say sorry for running away from her?"

Kevin immediately turned to his mother. "Mama I sorry. Can Mister Max take me to cars?"

She sighed, squatting down to fix his shorts. "We've gotta be more careful, sweetheart. And yes, Mister Max can take us to see the cars."

Kevin spun to face Max again. "She said yes!"

Grinning, Max nodded and stood.

"Thank you," y/n said softly. "I'm sor—"

"He's three, yeah?" Max reached to place his hand on the boy's head, gently guiding him closer when he started to wander off. "Don't apologize for him being a child."

She tipped her head at that, then nodded, grabbing hold of Kevin's hand as Max turned to lead them back down the hallway he'd just left. "I only came by to get my kit, and his aunt had paperwork at her new workplace to finish up, so I had to bring him."

"I'm glad you did." Max gave her a gentle smile, using his card to open the door leading to the back of headquarters. "Have you been back here?"

"Only on my tour the other day."

"Just stick with me," he said. They wouldn't be entering the engineer or design areas, only taking the corridor to the garage. Otherwise they'd have to travel all the way to the main entrance and walk around to the back, which would be tedious for her son.

"I'm under contract and signed an NDA, and it's not like I'd know where to go to sell team secrets," she told him. "And I wouldn't even know what I overheard."

"Not a car fan?" he asked, accepting the model car Kevin was shoving at him. Slipping it into his pocket, he guided them along the curving corridor.

"Eh… Kinda? I like racing. I don't understand all the mechanics to it, I just like the adrenaline of watching twenty guys drive really fast. And I can admire good craftsmanship, like a Bugatti or a McLaren, ya know?"

"What do you drive?" Max asked, using his card to open the door to the garage. Met with the faint aroma of rubber and asphalt, he inhaled deeply, catching with it a lighter, more pleasant scent.

"Nothing at the moment. I've been taking an Uber to and from the apartment," she explained. "I'll probably get a used car after my first paycheck."

Max furrowed his brows, stopping on the catwalk. "You haven't gotten paid yet?"

"No? Well, only my signing bonus, and that's gone to household necessities like rent and food. It's fine, Max, I don't need a car right now."

What are you going to do, give her one of yours? he thought, reaching to Kevin and lifting the boy to his hip so he could carry him down the stairs to the main level. Kevin was already oohing and aahing over the neat rows of cars. "It's just me, Brandon," he called, seeing the member of the security team at the other end of the garage. "A quick tour for a new friend, yeah?"

Brandon waved and disappeared around the corner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Max set Kevin down, ushering him to the nearest car. The boy's excitement was contagious, and Max gleefully told him about each one that he'd driven, helping the boy climb into each and press buttons on the steering wheel. Laughing when Kevin made racecar noises, he pulled out his phone to pull up some videos for sound effects. Swiping away the notifications from his dad, he turned up the volume so the engine sounds echoed in the garage, enjoying Kevin's childish glee.

"This one you know," he said, guiding him to the most recent addition. Lifting him into the seat, he squatted down. "This is a car I drove last year, which—" He pulled the model car from his pocket and set it on top of the steering column. "—is just like the one you have."

"Wow." Kevin looked at him with pure awe. "Did you win?"

"I did. And I won the championship too."

"You're a champ-een, Mister Max?" the boy gasped.

"I am."

"Like Lightning McQueen?"

"You could say that," he chuckled, affectionately ruffling the boy's curls. Glancing over at y/n, he paused when he saw she was holding up her phone.

She peered at him over the top. "Is it okay to take pictures?"

"Of course." He had a feeling she'd already taken dozens. He stepped out of the way so she could get photos of Kevin in the car, then lifted him out once she tucked her phone away. "Have you seen the trophies?"

"No. Can we see 'em, Mister Max? Please?"

"You have to ask your mum." Turning, he sent y/n a pleading look as Kevin asked permission.

"As long as Mister Max doesn't mind," she said, rolling her eyes when Kevin squealed yay.

"It's a long walk, do you want me to carry you?"

Kevin squirmed, wriggling so he was piggybacking. "Thank you Mister Max."

His chest tightened, and he reached to adjust the boy's legs around his middle. "You're welcome, Kevin. We do have to make a stop on the way to the trophy case, though."

Next to him, y/n cleared her throat. "I can take him if you've got something to do."

"No, it's fine, a quick stop," Max assured her, motioning for her to go up the stairs first.

"A pit stop?" Kevin asked, giggling as Max jogged up the steps.

"Exactly that. No more than ten seconds," he promised.

Fifteen minutes later, he was squatting down to fix the collar of Kevin's new shirt. "There you go, mate. What do you think?"

Kevin grinned and gave him a thumb's up.

Max looked up at y/n, who rolled her eyes. "He has to be Team Red Bull," he explained with a shrug, adjusting Kevin's new cap with a grin. Thanking the merch manager, he handed over the bag of goodies he'd grabbed and motioned for Kevin to climb onto his back.

"Thank you!" Kevin called, waving enthusiastically as he was carried out.

"Thank you, Max," y/n murmured while they walked towards reception. "But please don't get him anything else."

"I won't," he said softly. "If I overstepped—"

"No, no, it's fine. He'll wear the shirts until they're too small and he'll play with the models until they fall apart. I just don't want him to think he'll get this type of treatment all the time."

"I understand." He nodded. She didn't want her son to be spoiled. Which he found admirable. "…So giving him one of my old cars is out of the question?"

She halted, jaw dropping. "Max!"

"A joke!" he promised, flashing her a grin as he jogged ahead.

"Not funny," she scoffed behind him, and he heard her huff as she ran to catch up. "Those things cost probably a million—"

Max swung around, easily catching Kevin and swinging him back onto his back. "The car for Miami was about sixteen million."

Her eyes widened. "Sixteen—" She pressed her hands together right in front of her mouth. "Million? As in sixteen then six zeroes behind it?"

Nodding, he started walking backwards, amused at her reaction. She was staring at him in shock, and her son was giggling. "It's hard to pinpoint an exact cost, because we reuse some components from race to race. A chassis, or wings, yeah? If you really wanted to know I can pull up the data and get the price for each part—"

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Please don't. I'd probably faint."

"It's an expensive sport, y/n," he reminded her.

"Yeah no shit," she muttered, exhaling harshly. "I've got so much to learn."

"You'll be fine." He'd meant it to come out in an offhand manner. A generic it's okay so feelings wouldn't be hurt. But it came out gently, laced with reassurance and promise. And, before he could stop himself, his mouth opened again. "If you have any questions you can ask me."

"I can Google," she told him.

"I can change my Wikipedia to say I'm eighty-six. Doesn't make it true," he quipped.

To his relief, she laughed. "Fair point. I'll be sure and ask you."

He turned his attention back to Kevin, swinging him from his back to his hip. Reception was empty, and he set the boy down so he could explore the various displays. "He can't hurt anything," he reassured her, knowing she was watching carefully as Kevin ran over to a wing displayed on the wall.

"I just worry," she sighed.

"Why do you sound like you're apologizing?" Folding his arms over his chest, he watched Kevin walk around the large room, drinking it all in. "You're his mother, you're supposed to worry. If you didn't you would have to apologize."

"Thank you."

"He's a good kid, y/n," he said softly.

"I think so too." He could hear the smile in her voice and turned slightly to see it on her face.

Every other time he'd been in this room the weather outside had been cloudy or rainy. He couldn't remember the sun ever shining as he'd stood there to soak in all the history. Until now. It poured through the windows, causing the trophies in the cases to sparkle and the polished floor to gleam. It shone into her eyes, and he could only stare at her as she squinted a little, a tiny dimple appearing in her left cheek.

God, she was lovely.

She glanced at him and his breathing kickstarted. Unconsciously licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "You seem to be doing well, for a single mom."

Her smile faltered and he mentally kicked himself. She looked to Kevin, who was studying the Red Bull logo on the wall, and looked at Max again. "I didn't have a choice."

"I'm sorry," he said automatically.

"Oh he's not dead." She watched her son, her smile gone. "Just dead to us."

"Then I'm sorry for bringing it up." It had ruined the day. Well, alright, not the day but the moment. They'd been having fun, he'd been having fun.

You always fuck up don't you?

His jaw clenched as the angry voice from years ago echoed in his mind.

"It's okay, Max." Her gentle voice cut through the echoes of the past and he forced his jaw to relax.

Nodding, he uncrossed his arms and called to Kevin, taking him by the hand and leading him to the towering trophy case. "Come on, y/n, time to learn some history."

She snorted on a laugh but joined them, and he could tell she was paying attention as he rattled off years and races and drivers to Kevin.

You're going to fuck this up too, the voice sneered.

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #my writings > mv > rulebreaker

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roosterforme · 3 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.

With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.

About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.

Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.

It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.

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

Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."

The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office.

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.

As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."

His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"

When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.

Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."

The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized.

"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"

Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."

Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands.

"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."

Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."

Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.

"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."

The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"

"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks.

With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment.

"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear.

"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."

He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"

He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."

"I love you, Bradley!"

"I love you so much."

As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."

Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.

He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.

"Yes, sir?"

The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."

Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"

He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."

This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."

"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.

Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.

When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."

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

If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration.

You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.

"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."

She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."

"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by.

As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"

You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."

"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"

You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."

"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.

"I could be! You don't even know!"

Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.

"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."

"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.

"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."

You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."

Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.

"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.

"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."

"I think he'd like that."

You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?

"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.

"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."

"Okay."

You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.

I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today.

But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.

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

On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price.

You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?

While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.

"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"

You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.

Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.

"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.

I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.

Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.

Open me when you've had a bad day

Open me when you really want some coffee

Open me when you need a laugh

Open me when you're in bed

Open me when you need a girls' night

Open me with your class

You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.

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

He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby

PART 21

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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months ago

Text

Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it.

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banners credited on my masterlist!!

Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events.

The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there.

His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured.

Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four.

He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.

When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

"(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.

Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree.

"(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."

He outstretched his arm, offering you his hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite.

"Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

"It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features.

Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar.

"(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

"Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

"Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

"I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

"Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

"Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

"Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right."

With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze.

"Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat.

"Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking.

He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

"Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

"Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured.

When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you.

"Need some clothes?" He asked.

"Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back.

"I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

"Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile.

He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

"Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

"Not hungry anyways."

"Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you.

By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

"I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

"I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

"Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

"I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

"Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

"Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

"I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

"You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

"Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

"Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

"Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

"You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

#tw: implied abuse #tw: implied sa #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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mononijikayu · 8 days ago

Text

come back to me — geto suguru.

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.” You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?” He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: dead dove: do not eat, dark fic, nsfw (not safe for work), r -18, angst, hurt/no comfort, toxic romance, character death, murder, guilt, remorse, horror, sorrow, tragedy, lovers, canon related violence, choking, violence, curse creature, ghostly figure, anguish, emotional instability, emotional, haunting, betrayal, unfinished business, depiction of character death, depiction of murder, depiction of emotional instability, depiction of choking, depiction of anguish, depiction of guilt, depiction of sorrow, depiction of ghostly figure, mention of mass murder, mention of death, curse user defector! geto suguru, victim girlfriend! reader;

WORDS: 7k words.

NOTE: this is probably the first time i'm writing something that is a dead dove, because i was curious how i would do when writing something as heavy and as horrific as something like this. i wanted to be able to write it properly, because not only is it kinktober, it is also spookytober. so, i had this in mind. i wanted to participate at least once. so, i hope that even though this might not be your cup of tea, it be something of interest to you. but if you can't read it right now, that's okay too. i'll publish more works soon enough!!! i love you all <3

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HE CAN SEE YOU EVERYWHERE. And it was his own fault. A fault, of course, he does not regret. A fault he incurs with wanting, and greed. You haunt Geto Suguru and there was nothing else but it to last forever. You haunt his existence as though you own it. Everything about was drifting through his every thought like a shadow he can't shake.

He had known this would happen. He had anticipated it ever since that day. The day he crossed the line from the man he once was into something darker, something twisted by hatred, madness and grief.

He had expected your presence to follow him. He had expected that you would never leave him alone. Geto Suguru had always wanted it. He had always wanted you. For you were everything. You were the beginning and end.

You were too important, too loved by him. You cannot leave him. You cannot go astray from him. Because he had made it so. He had made it so and it shall be like that. After all, he was the one that took your life. There was no other way about it. And he remembers. He remembers it distinctly. He remembers it all too well.

It was after the massacre, after he had ended up doing what he had done. Still in his blooded clothes, weary and exhausted, he did not hesitate in all he had done. Why should he? Why should he feel regret now when his heart, his soul, his everything, was corrupted by the greed and indifference of others?

That village had been reduced to nothing but ash and ruin, its people were swiftly slaughtered by his own hand. And all that remained was ash and bone, the dark charred bitterness burning amid the blue flames.

He of course did not stop there. He couldn't. It was as though he was in autopilot. As though no one was home. And yet, he remembers. He feels the contradiction of it all. But he does not need to admit to fault. The result was obvious. It was secured by fate. The fate he had chosen.

He took Mimiko and Nanako and brought them somewhere safe. And all that he could think of his house. It would be empty. His parents wouldn't be home. And he take what he needed and leave. He could leave. But he was a fool for thinking that everything would go swiftly as he planned.

Within an hour of him trying to take everything, he silences Mimiko and Nanako and tells them to keep the TV on, as loud as possible. And no matter what, do not come down. The two young girls agreed, they were smiling too. They would do anything he'd asked. For after all, he was the one who had saved them from these....these cruel creatures that had nearly taken their lives.

Geto Suguru has always had a difficult relationship with his parents. But even then, he had cared for him. He was a filial son, he knew that about himself. Yet he knew that he had gone far already with what he had done.

He cannot let his parents be an exception. Not even if they weren't at fault. Even if they didn't do anything. He can't be lenient. Geto Suguru lets his steps be firm, even if he knows he can't. He could remember his mother's greeting, seeing him. His father's little hey. It was almost like his childhood agaian.

"You staying the night, 'guru?" His mother asks him as she puts down the grocery bags. "I thought it would still be a school night."

"Let him be, dear." His father says, smiling at his wife. "We always work, he's always at school. Let's just enjoy having him around for a little more time."

His mother laughs. "You're right. We might as well enjoy our son being here."

"Oh, 'guru. Is that ketchup stains on your shirt?" His mother gasped, spotting the red stain on his white school shirt. "Take it off, 'guru! Let me clean it. Go and change, you must be tired―"

"You can do it later, dear." His father says, as he starts clearing out the groceries. "I'm sure that you can wash it later. If Suguru wants to spend some more time with us, then wash it later."

His mother pouts at his father's words. "I suppose so."

"Mom, dad." Suguru finally talks, raising his head a little. His eyes meeting that of his mother and father. He catches their attention and he stays still.

For a moment, he could see everything of him in his mother and his father. His mother's purple eyes, his father's tender lips. His mother's long black hair. His father's gentle face. He could see all of him in them. And he's going to destroy it. He's going to ruin it. He has to. There's no other way.

His mother's brows raised a bit confused. "What is it, 'guru? Do you want anything?"

"I'm sorry."

In that moment, maybe they did notice what was wrong with him. After months of suffering, after this whole year, maybe they finally noticed. But they noticed too late. They noticed too late when he already had resolve.

"Hey, son. If there's anything you want to talk to us about, you can." His father says to him, walking towards him. This was the last time Suguru would see his father's kind face. "We love you son, you know that. You can tell us anything."

"I love you too." Suguru whispers, lifting his head whole. He reveals tears pouring from his face. "I'm sorry."

Those were the last words he said to his parents. Those were the last thing they heard from him as his curses took them both one by one and destroyed what remained of who he was.

Geto Suguru sobbed for a long while, looking at the blood. Looking at what he had done. He sobbed and sobbed until nothing could come out. But what was done was done. He needed to move forward. There was only one thing left.

And yet, after all that bloodshed, he went to you. Not out of regret, not out of any moral dilemma, but he was too far gone for that. He had to close all his ties. He had to disappear. Geto Suguru cannot remain. He has to die. And what better way than to end you too.

If Geto Suguru had one thing he was truly happy in his life about, it was you. And you were his everything. You were the one constant, the one person who had always been there.

You, his childhood friend, the girl who had stood beside him through everything. And more than that, you were the love of his life. The woman he'd once dreamed of marrying, of building a future with before everything unraveled.

When Geto Suguru arrived at your house, everything was still. You were sitting alone, your parents gone, much like his had been your entire lives, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You were the last peaceful thing in his world.

And he has to take you away. You weren't meant for this dirty world. You were the purest thing in his life. You can't be here. Not when he wrecks everything whole. You can't, you can't be tarnished more than you will be.

As he stepped into the room, you looked up and your face lit up, just like it always did. You were so beautiful to him. The most beautiful star in his sky. Forever infinitely so pure. His beloved.

You smiled at him like nothing had changed, as if the boy standing before you was still the same Suguru you had known all those years. You were happy to see him, your eyes full of warmth, unburdened by the weight of the horrors he had committed just hours before.

“Suguru!” you greeted him, standing up and crossing the room to meet him. Your voice was soft, affectionate, carrying none of the tension or fear that had filled his life. “I’ve missed you.”

For a moment, in that single heartbeat, he almost let himself believe it—that he could be that man again. The boy who smiled and laughed with you. The one who loved you with every part of himself. He could feel the familiar tug in his chest, the love he had always felt for you, pulling him back from the brink. And for a second, he almost let himself forget.

But deep down, Suguru knew. The path he had chosen was irreversible. He had come too far, burned too much of himself away to ever turn back. There was no room left for love, for innocence, for the life he had once dreamed of with you. He had destroyed it all, and now everything around him had to fall too. Even you.

You didn’t see it coming. You had no idea of the darkness that had consumed him. You looked at him as if nothing had changed—as if he were still the boy who had promised to protect you, to always stand by your side. And that was the part that hurt him the most.

"Suguru, what's wrong?" you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "You look... tired. Are you okay?"

He flinched at your touch, as though your kindness was too much to bear. He turned his face away, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat. How could he even begin to explain? How could he tell you what he had done, the blood that stained his hands, the lives he had taken?

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?”

He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

Your breath hitched. For a moment, you didn’t understand. You didn’t want to. “What are you talking about?” you whispered, shaking your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “That’s... that’s not possible. You wouldn’t—”

“I did.” His voice was cold, flat, devoid of emotion. “I killed them. They deserved it.”

Your knees buckled, and you stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying with the boy standing in front of you. “No... no, that’s not you, Suguru. You wouldn’t do something like that. You.... you would never.”

But as you looked into his eyes, the reality of it sank in. You could see it. Little by little, you pieced it all together. You could see the darkness that had swallowed him whole, the monster he had become. And your heart broke, shattered into pieces as you realized what he had done, what he was planning to do.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no warmth in it. “You have to understand... I can’t let you live. Not like this. Not anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but even then, even as the weight of his betrayal crushed you, you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. This was Geto Suguru; the boy who had always been gentle with you, who had held your hand on dark nights and made you believe in a future together. Your everything.

Just as much as you were his everything. You loved him. You still do love him. How could you not? He was and always will be the love of your life. You didn’t hate him, but you were afraid. Not of death, but of what he had become.

“Suguru…….” Your voice trembled. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”

He looked away, clenching his fists, his jaw tight. “I do.”

“But I love you.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I still love you. Even now. Isn't that enough?”

His heart ached at your words, the pain of your love cutting deeper than any blade. He had come too far, done too much. There was no going back, not for him, not for either of you. He cannot stop. If he could do it to his parents, he could do it to you.

But you—you were different. He couldn't kill you like he had killed the others. He didn’t want to see fear in your eyes, didn’t want to hear you scream or beg for mercy. You deserved better than that, better than what the world had given you, even if he no longer deserved you.

So he made a choice. A twisted act of love, the last shred of mercy he could offer.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice soft now. "You won’t feel anything. You’ll just fall asleep, and... you’ll dream. A dream that never ends."

Your tears fell freely, but you didn’t move. You didn’t try to run. How could you? You were in disbelief. You were in absolute mania, you were in a madness. There was no way you could. You cannot do anything but be still, in shock, and wait for the end. Betrayed, hurt and gone by the one that you loved the most.

Or perhaps, maybe you had always known it would come to this; that the boy you had loved had been consumed by the darkness, and there was no saving him. Maybe it was just fate. Or maybe you were just too kind, too trusting, too good for this world. Suguru would never know.

He held you close, cradling you in his arms, and for a moment, you let yourself believe everything would be okay. That somehow, this nightmare would end, and you would wake up in the arms of the boy you loved, the one who would protect you. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

He just kept you beside him all through the night, for what felt like hours, maybe longer. Your body was so still in his arms, as though the weight of the world had finally let go of you. You were so quiet, so calm, as if you had already accepted what was coming.

Maybe you knew, deep down, that the boy you had loved so fiercely, so fully, had become someone else. That he had become this person lost in a sea of hate and ambition, far beyond the innocent dreams you had once shared together.

Geto Suguru wondered if you had always known that it would come to this, that the path he had chosen would inevitably lead you to this moment of no return. That you had always known that he will be your beginning and end. That you would belong to him no matter what, life and in death. Because he didn't. Until now.

“I’m so sorry. I love you.” he whispered one last time, his voice cracking, as he used his curse on you—the one that could curse with a dream that would never end.

You felt yourself slipping away, your body growing heavy, your eyelids fluttering shut. But there was no fear, no pain. Just a deep, endless sleep. Suguru’s heart clenched. He knew what he was about to do. He had already gone too far—there was no turning back.

You would never have followed him down the path he had chosen, the path of darkness and destruction. You were too pure, too gentle, to walk the same road as him. You would never raise a hand to hurt anyone, even if it meant saving yourself. That was the kind of person you were, the kind of person he could never be.

So, this dream; this was all he could give you. It was the only gift left that wasn’t tainted by his sins.

His curse; a dream that would never end. It was his final act of love, his last attempt to protect you from the reality he had created. With it, he could give you what the real world had taken away from both of you.

He could give you the life you should have had. The life he had stolen from you when he became the monster you never deserved. In this dream, you could live peacefully, forever untouched by the violence and corruption that had consumed him. In this dream, you could be happy. You could be free.

He watched as your breathing grew softer, your chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm. And in that moment, Suguru let himself imagine what your dream was like. Maybe it was a simple life, the kind you had always wanted.

Maybe the two of you were walking through the fields of a quiet village, hand in hand, with the sun setting on the horizon. Or maybe you were sitting beneath a tree, with your head resting on his shoulder, laughing about nothing at all.

He pictured the softness of your smile, the warmth of your touch, moments of joy that you would never experience again, not in the real world. But in this dream, it would be eternal. And most of all, it would be final. It would be the end. And there would be no path to return.

In this dream, the two of you could grow old together. You could have the life that you both had once spoken about when you were younger, before everything had gone wrong. There would be no death, no suffering. Only love. Only peace.

As your body stilled completely, Geto Suguru’s heart ached with the weight of what he had done. He had cursed you, just as he had cursed so many others, but this curse was different. This one was born out of love.

A twisted, desperate love that couldn’t save you, but could at least offer you a kind of peace. It wasn’t enough. He knew that. It was never going to be enough. But it was all he could give.

"I’m sorry, my love." he whispered, his voice breaking in the silence of the night. "I’m so sorry."

He could never undo what he had done. He couldn’t bring you back, not really. But he could give you this, a life lived in the dream of what could have been. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough for you.

But as the hours passed, and the weight of your absence began to sink in, Suguru knew the truth; he hadn’t done this just for you. He had done it for himself. To hold on to the illusion of what he had destroyed. To keep you with him, in some way, even if it was only in the depths of a dream that would never end.

It was all he had left

You never woke up.

“I love you, I love you.” he whispered into the silence, knowing you would never hear him. "Always."

And as he laid you down, letting you drift into the dream he had cursed you with, he knew he would never find peace again.

He had seen it in your eyes when he came to you that night. There was no anger, no fear—just a deep, silent understanding. It wasn’t the kind of acceptance that came from giving up; it was something softer, sadder.

Maybe you had already resigned yourself to the fact that Suguru could no longer protect you, that the man he had become could only destroy the things he once cherished. He wondered if, in your heart, you had always known that the love you had given him so freely would be the very thing that led to your end.

Or maybe, he thought, you were simply too good for this world. Too kind, too pure. He never really knew. The way you looked at him that night, with the same softness you always had, even after everything. He couldn’t understand it. He had expected fear, maybe even hatred. But there was none of that. Just love, unwavering, even in the face of what he had become.

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HE PAYS FOR HIS SINS WITH THIS. Every evil act has a gift in return. Everything has a consequence. And he knew that you would die with some hatred in you. That you wouldn't go without a fight, without resentment. You would be bound to materialize as the shadow of what life could have been and the regrets he had made it to be.

Because of he had done, your ghost lingers. You were his constant reminder of what he threw away. You were all he wanted and all he had wasted. The person he loved the most and the person he ruined the most. In his mind, he can still feel the warmth of your embrace, still hear the way you said his name with love and trust.

He killed you because he had to. Because his mission demanded it—but the truth is, he didn’t want you to die. He had never wanted that. He had wanted you by his side, forever. But in his quest for destruction, he had destroyed the only thing that had ever truly mattered to him.

Even now, he can feel you. The weight of your absence presses down on him, but so does the weight of your presence. You’re always there, just out of reach, watching him, haunting him.

He sees you in his dreams, in his nightmares, in the quiet moments when he’s alone with his thoughts. He wonders what could have been, if only he had made a different choice. But that world is gone, along with you, and all he has left is the ghost of the life he should have had.

In the end, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve to die. But he had gone too far, and in doing so, he lost the one person who had always believed in him. Now, your love is a memory that torments him, and your ghost is a shadow that will never leave his side.

"Do you hate me?" Suguru's voice trembled as he sat at the edge of the bed where he had last held you.

No one was living here anymore, your parents couldn't bear it. And so he bought the house, with a proxy. And left everything just the way it was. The room still smelled like you. It always will. Everything in this house will be you. Everything in his life is you.

There were faint traces of the perfume you wore, the lingering scent of your skin, and the warmth that used to make this place feel like home. The dresses you liked to wear when you both would go on those rare dates. The smell of your shampoo lingers in your bathroom. He remembered the way his nose would rest against it when you both slept together.

The home had been so abundantly you. Everything about it was you. And now, it was just a hollow space, like a tomb. All his regrets lay there. All his grief resided here. Everything was here. And he couldn't take it. He couldn't abandon it. He couldn't live with it. But he had to. He has to live. He has to live haunted by you.

Because he was sure, hell would be his place. And he would never see you again. He would never know you again. He would only ever live in misery there without you, without traces of you. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, heavy and erratic, waiting for something. Anything. Just a little sign from the presence he could always feel around him.

You didn't answer, not with words. You never did. But there was a weight in the air, a feeling that always hovered when he thought of you. He could feel your sadness, the disappointment that clung to the silence between them. It cut deeper than any curse could.

"I... I didn't want it to be like this, my love." he whispered, gripping the sheets beneath him, the same ones you used to curl up in. His fingers twisted in the fabric, the pressure keeping his hands from shaking.

"I thought... If I let you go gently, it would be enough. It would be kinder. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? I should...I should have taken you with me. Abandoned the world. We could... we could have been together."

There was no reply, but the stillness in the room felt heavier. The silence was cruel. But it was what he deserved. He could imagine your eyes on him, those soft, kind eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but love. Now, he wondered if they would have only looked at him with sorrow.

"I loved you, the most in the world." he said, almost to himself. His voice cracked, the admission pulling something raw from deep within. "I still do. I don't know if that matters now, but I wanted you to know. Even after everything... I loved you more than I loved anything. Even the hate. Even the darkness. But that didn’t change anything."

The words felt hollow, like a confession given too late to a ghost that could no longer forgive. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of the years, of his choices, pressing down on him like a thousand stones. He did this to himself. He did this to you. He had no right to feel sorrow. No right to feel remorse or longing.

"I used to think I could fix it. That somehow, I’d find a way to make everything right. That maybe... Maybe if I succeeded, I’d see you again, and you’d understand. That you’d forgive me." He laughed, but it was empty, bitter. "But I don’t deserve it, do I? I killed you. I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world, and for what?"

He stood suddenly, unable to sit still any longer, pacing the room. "What did I gain? Power? Control? None of it matters. None of it ever mattered without you."

The room seemed to shift then, the shadows curling in the corners, and for a moment, he thought he saw you. A glimpse, just out of the corner of his eye, like a faint outline of your silhouette. He froze, heart pounding, and for the briefest second, hope flickered in his chest. Could it be?..........

"Suguru......." Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it pierced through the silence like a dagger. "Suguru........."

He turned, but there was nothing. Just the dim light filtering through the curtains, the room empty as it always had been. But the voice lingered, echoing in his mind.

"Suguru..."

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to hold onto the sound of your voice, as though he could pull you back into reality. "I'm sorry, my love." he whispered. "I’m so sorry."

For a long moment, there was nothing but the hum of the wind outside, the creak of the old floorboards beneath his feet. And then, in the stillness, something seemed to shift again. The presence was still there, but softer, like a gentle hand on his shoulder, a touch that wasn’t quite there but wasn’t gone either.

"I never wanted this, I…." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted to hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t stop."

There was no answer, but in the silence that followed, there was a warmth—a fleeting warmth, like the last rays of sunlight before nightfall. It wrapped around him, gentle, forgiving, and for just a moment, he thought that maybe you didn’t hate him after all.

But then it was gone.

Just like you were.

Just like everything.

And he was alone again, in the house where you had once lived, haunted by the love he had destroyed with his own hands.

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HUMAN GREED IS THIS, HE LIKES TO THINK. Even though he was the most undeserving being in existence, he wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be greedy when it came to you. He can't help it. He wanted you, no matter what. He yearns for you no matter the case. Even if it's to curse him, he wants to see you again. You became a cursed ghost, bound to him like the shadow of every terrible thing he had done.

Geto Suguru felt your presence in everything he did, in every step he took. It was unavoidable. When he would wake up, he knows you were calling his name. When he was in his dreams, you would look at him, without saying anything.

You haunted him relentlessly, silently, like a specter of the life he had stolen from you, and from himself. He couldn't escape you. He didn’t deserve to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't think he should. Not when he loves you most.

At first, he tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend that your death had been some kind of mercy, that he had spared you the pain that had consumed everyone else. Because that was what he had thought when he had taken your life. That's what he thought he was doing. He thought he was standing by you.

But as the years passed by, he knew that he was in the wrong. He accepted that he was in the wrong. That he had caused misery beyond compare. Not only for him but the most, for you. You were robbed of everything. Because he willed it.

And you couldn't accept it. He knew you wouldn't. Even if you had not done anything when he had killed you, you resented him. He knew that for a fact. Because you would not have materialized, your spirit wouldn't have lingered if that was the case. You resented him. And you loved him. You wanted him to pay and you wanted to hold him.

You followed him through the days and the nights, never speaking, but always there—watching, waiting. Your eyes, once full of love and warmth, now filled with sadness, sorrow, and something worse: disappointment.

If he was being honest, Suguru hated it. He cannot take how you look at him with those eyes. He cannot understand how it hurt him, how it can put him to the worst of grief. Over and over again.

He hated how tainted you had become because of him, how his hands, once capable of tenderness, had defiled your soul. You were twisted now, corrupted by his actions, bound to this cursed existence because of him.

He had stained you, dragged you into the darkness with him, and now, he could never set you free. You were a cursed being, a remnant of everything pure he had ruined.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Every time he breathed, it was like you were just behind him, your breath a cold whisper on his neck. When he fought, when he killed, when he walked among the ruins he had created, you were there, like a silent witness to his sins. You never left him alone. And he had a love and hate for the fact.

And in the stillness, in the quiet moments between battles, he would feel your sadness radiating from the shadows, like a knife twisted into his chest. The more he tried to push you away, the tighter your curse clung to him, a constant reminder of what he had done.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this. You had been innocent. You had been his love, his reason for hope in a world full of hatred. You were the light he had turned away from, and in doing so, he had dragged you into the abyss with him. And now, you were part of that same darkness. A monstrosity of his own making.

He wanted to give you peace. He wanted to free you, to find a way to release your soul from the curse he had placed upon you. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had gone too far, and there was no redemption, not for him, and not for you. This was all that was left of the love you shared—a twisted, haunted existence. You were bound to him in life, and now in death, you were bound to him still.

Suguru couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you. He couldn’t bear the weight of knowing that even in death, you had no peace. You should have been free, your soul at rest, away from the horrors of the world he had embraced. But instead, you were with him, suffering, watching him destroy everything, even himself.

"This isn’t what you deserved." he whispered one night, his voice shaking as he sat alone, surrounded by the cold, oppressive air of your ghost. "But that's all I have left of you."

And in his heart, he knew the truth: he had destroyed everything good in his life, including you. Now, all he had left was this haunting, this curse, this twisted version of the love he had once cherished. It was his punishment, the monstrosity of his own creation, and he would carry it with him until the very end.

You began to interact with him, more than just a haunting presence. At first, it was subtle—a cold breeze across his skin when the windows were closed, the flicker of shadows in the corner of his vision, the soft rustle of something moving when no one was there.

But as the days passed, it became more intense. You weren’t just watching him anymore. You were with him, and that made the guilt all the more unbearable. He could tell that you didn't know how to feel about it. One moment, you adored him. One moment you hated him. Each and every time, he took it. He yearned for it. He wants it to repeat over and over.

Suguru could feel it in every brush of cold air, in every movement you made. There was nothing left of the person you once were. You were no longer the girl who had loved him, the one who smiled and laughed, whose touch brought him comfort.

What was left was a hollow shell of your soul, twisted and broken by his actions. The broken body of a ghost that wanted nothing more to be free. To hate him, to love him and to leave him. And yet, despite knowing this, despite knowing that he had destroyed you beyond recognition, he still couldn’t let you go.

It was his greed that bound you, his selfish desire to keep you close, no matter what you had become. Even now, even as you haunted him, as you tormented him with your presence, he clung to you like you were his last lifeline.

He convinced himself that this was you, that this cursed, fractured version of your spirit was the real you coming back to him. He needed to believe it because the alternative; the idea that you were gone, truly gone, was too painful to bear.

In his twisted mind, he told himself that you stayed because you loved him. That even though he had shattered your soul, even though he had ripped you away from everything you knew, you still came back to him. You came back because you loved him the most. And that was enough for him, even if it wasn’t the truth.

But the truth was something he could never fully escape. He knew, deep down, that you hated him. He saw it in the way your spirit lashed out at him at night, the way you hovered over him, watching him with eyes that burned with anger and grief.

Sometimes, when the room grew still and dark, he could feel your hands—those same hands that once touched him with love—wrap around his throat, cold and vengeful, pressing down as if you were trying to choke the life from him. You wanted him dead. He knew that.

There were extreme nights, when you would feel your death over and over again. Where you would feel the anger and the grief and the pain overwhelm you. In those nights, you tried to kill him. Your cold, spectral fingers would tighten around his neck or press into his chest, making his heart race with terror.

He would wake in a panic, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, his body shaking from the closeness of death. And yet, even as he lay there, heart pounding, knowing you had just tried to take his life, he couldn’t let you go. The more you hated him, the more he needed to keep you close.

"I know you hate me, my love." he whispered one night, after waking from another attack. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from where your ghostly fingers had pressed down on his windpipe.

"I deserve it. I deserve all of it. But… you came back to me, didn’t you? You could’ve gone anywhere, but you came back to me."

There was no answer, just the icy stillness that filled the room, but he swore he could feel you there, hovering just out of sight, watching him with those same cold, dead eyes as you kept pushing over and over again. You wanted him to die. You wanted him to pay. But he could see it too, how you wanted to stop yourself too.

"Even if you hate me, I need you here." he continued, his voice breaking. "Because you love me… you still love me, right?"

The silence stretched on, and for a moment, he almost believed he could hear your voice, your real voice, telling him that it was true. That you did love him, even after everything. That you wanted to say sorry over and over again.

But then, the familiar cold returned, creeping up his spine like the touch of death itself, and he felt your hands again, tighten against his skin. Only this time, colder, harsher, more brutal. More willing to kill. More willing to take his life in revenge. He had never seen you like this before. He had never seen you so angry at him before.

And he knew he deserved it. He knew it is what you should feel. He hurt people, he hurt you. He killed you. You had every right to want to take his life for yours. Even like this. Even after all this time. He would let you. As he had done before, he lay himself defenseless, at your mercy. He was ready to be taken to hell by your angelic arms. Even if he didn't deserve it. You pressed harder, digging into his flesh, as if you were trying to crush him.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." he gasped, fighting for air, tears blurring his vision as he clawed at the emptiness around him. "I’m sorry for everything! But I can’t— I can’t let you go."

And that was the truth. No matter how much you hated him, no matter how many times you tried to kill him in the dead of night, he couldn’t let go of what little was left of you. You were all he had, even if what remained of you was a cursed, vengeful spirit, twisted by his own cruelty.

You were the only thing in his world that still meant anything. You were the last piece of the life he had destroyed, and he would cling to you, even if it killed him. Because that's the only way he could survive. That's the only way he could continue with this. Life is meaningless if you cannot be there. Even if it's to hurt him.

He hated himself for it. He hated the way his greed had tainted your soul, how his selfishness had turned you into this monstrous version of the woman he loved. The promise he had made was his failure. His eternal mistake. But it didn’t matter. In his broken mind, this was better than nothing.

"I’ll keep you with me, my love." he whispered, even as your fingers gripped his throat once more, sending waves of pain through his body. "Even if you kill me, I’ll never let you go."

For a moment, you were silent.

You just keep pushing on and on.

But he could see it as clear as day.

Tears were falling down on your face.

"I know." He croaks out with a struggle. He could feel his skin turn blue and purple as you kept pushing. "I....I know."

No, he thinks to himself. He will never truly know.

He was still alive.

And you were dead.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

MISERY HAS COME TO AN END. This was what he had been waiting for since that day he had taken your life. He couldn't wait for it. He wanted for it to be over. He wanted for it to be done. As Geto Suguru lay there, life slowly draining from his body, Gojo Satoru stood above him, his face unreadable but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.

The air around them felt thick, charged with the weight of years gone by, of a friendship that had crumbled under the weight of Suguru’s choices. But there was something else in that moment, something that Suguru had felt long before Gojo Satoru arrived. There was a presence that lingered, watching, always there. You.

You stood in the shadows, just out of reach but ever-present, as you had been for so long. He could feel your gaze, cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of his fading consciousness. He didn’t need to see you to know you were there; he always knew. Even as his body weakened, even as death crept closer, you were the one thing he could still feel.

Suguru's breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, but he forced his eyes to focus, searching for you through the mist of pain and regret. And there you were—silent, ghostly, unchanged in the years that had passed since he had taken your life.

Your face was a mixture of sorrow and rage, just as it always had been since you had become this cursed existence. It was so real, it felt so real. You were here. He had made you this way, and he knew it. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on him harder than any physical pain ever could.

“I knew you’d be here, my love.” he rasped, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he didn’t care. All that mattered now was you.

You stared at him, your eyes burning with the same hatred and sorrow that had haunted him for so long. But behind that, there was something else, something deeper that had always lingered between you….love. It was fractured, twisted by the years of torment, but it was still there, in the way you watched him now, waiting.

"I—" He coughed, the pain wracking his body, but he forced the words out, knowing he didn’t have much time. "I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. For everything. For what I did to you. For taking you away. I never wanted it to be like this."

Your expression didn’t change, but Geto Suguru could feel the weight of your emotions. He could always feel it, the depth of your pain, your anger, and the love that had been tainted by his cruelty.

"I don’t deserve forgiveness, my love." he continued, his voice trembling, "I know that. I don’t even ask for it. But… I need you to stay with me." His purple eyes, dark and filled with regret, locked onto yours.

"Hate me. Keep hating me for what I did. I deserve it. Stay angry. Stay hurt. Just—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, the mask of strength he had worn for so long fell away, revealing the broken man beneath. "Just don’t leave me."

You didn’t move, but something in your gaze softened, just for a moment, and Suguru’s heart clenched.

"I need you to keep loving me." he whispered, barely audible now, the strength leaving him with each breath. "Even if it’s hate. Even if it’s anger. Please… don’t ever leave. Stay with me, even in death."

There was silence for a long moment, the world around him fading, the edges of reality blurring. Gojo Satoru’s presence was there, a silent witness to this final moment, but all Suguru could focus on was you. The one person he had loved, the one person he had destroyed.

And in that silence, he thought he saw you nod. It wasn’t forgiveness. He knew that you could never give him that. Not even if you wanted to. So, he didn’t expect that. But it was something, a promise of sorts, that you would remain, that you would stay by his side, even in the twisted, cursed way you had been for so long.

You had no other choice. You were tied to him. Even if you were an angel, you were his to have killed. And you were his to keep. One way or another, you were doomed with him.

As the light in his eyes began to dim, Suguru let out one last breath, his body finally succumbing to the weight of it all. But even as the world around him slipped away, he felt you there, just as he had always wanted. He wanted forever. He wanted you to be bound to him, through love, hate, and everything in between.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Geto Suguru felt a sense of peace, knowing that in death, you would never leave his side.

As Suguru’s body lay still, life finally left him, your form so long bound to his cursed existence, everything had begun to change. The air around you shifted, the heaviness that had weighed you down for years slowly lifting.

You had been tied to him for so long, your soul twisted by the hatred and sorrow of what he had done to you. But now, with his death, the curse that had held you in this half-life, in this torment, began to unravel.

You felt it—slowly, like a breath you hadn’t taken in so many years. The pull that had kept you bound to him, the chains of guilt, anger, and love, began to fade. It wasn’t quick; the pain was still there, raw and deep, but it was easing, loosening its grip on your soul.

The twisted form you had taken, the vengeful ghost that had followed Suguru through every step, began to dissolve. You were withering away, piece by piece, the curse unraveling like a thread in the wind.

But there was no joy in it. No relief. Instead, as you felt your spirit beginning to break free, something strange and unexpected filled you—grief.

The years of anger, hatred, and sorrow were fading, and with them, the love you had once held so deeply for him, a love that had persisted despite everything. As the curse released its grip on you, tears began to fall, silent and steady, down your ghostly face.

Gojo Satoru stood above Geto Suguru, watching it all unfold. He had always known about you, the shadow that haunted his best friend, the curse that Suguru had created out of his own guilt and selfish love.

But seeing it now, seeing the way your form withered away, your tears falling like echoes of a past long gone, it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t need to see the full story to understand what you were; what you had been to Suguru, and what he had taken from you.

Your tears shimmered in the fading light, and Gojo Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the faint glisten of them. He could feel the depth of your pain, even now, as you began to fade from the world.

The sight of your sorrow, of your spirit being freed but still weighed down by the lingering grief, hit something in him that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His usual mask of indifference slipped, just for a moment, and he sighed softly.

“Love really is the worst curse, huh.” he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost as though he were speaking to the empty air, to you.

He understood, more than most, how love could bind, twist, and destroy. He had seen it countless times in the lives of others, and now, here, at the end of everything, he saw it in Suguru’s last moments and in your ghostly form, finally free but forever marked by what had been done to you.

You didn’t answer him—you couldn’t. Your form was fading faster now, the last remnants of your curse dissolving into the air. But as you disappeared, your tears fell one last time, a final release of all the pain you had carried, of all the love and hate that had twisted you into what you had become.

Gojo watched you until there was nothing left, just the faint whisper of your presence lingering in the silence. He looked down at Suguru, his once closest friend, and felt a deep, bittersweet sorrow wash over him. He knew that, in the end, both of you had been cursed by love, in different ways. And now, both of you are gone.

With one last glance at the empty space where your spirit had been, Gojo Satoru sighed again, his heart heavy. What a tragedy of a life it all had been.

"Yeah……" he whispered to himself. "The worst curse of all."

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strawberri-blonde · 1 year ago

Text

The Little Warrior’s Needs - Neteyam

Photo edits to @cinetrix

Summary: Neteyam takes your one-month-old son out for the day so you can rest, then when they get home you smell another woman’s scent on your family.

Warning: No warnings that I can think of. Maybe curse words????

Masterlist

You wake up to the sound of soft cries. Instinctively, you reach out and press your hand against the woven basket that Neteyam had built for your son months before he was born. As your hands felt the cold, empty basket, your heart sank. You finally opened your blurry eyes and looked down at the basket to see that it was, in fact, empty. 'Ateyo,' the desperate plea of your baby's name escaped your lips.

"Yawne," you feel a hand grab your wrist, making you realize that you had not looked right beside you where Neteyam currently lies with your son in his arms. "Baby, he's right here." You barely slept a wink last night, exhausted from your one-month-old son's incessant crying.

With a heavy sigh, you open your eyes and stretch your sore body. "My beautiful mate, he really took a toll on you last night." You shook your head trying to disagree, while you maneuvered yourself into your mate's side, kissing the soft texture of Ateyo's head.

He looked just like his daddy, such a handsome little man, you thought, letting out an exhausted yawn. Neteyam watched with worried eyes as yours began to close once again, even with his son grabbing at your chest, clearly ready to eat. Your motherly body had grown used to Ateyo's wants and needs over the month, ready to provide for the little creature.

"Hold on, junior." It was a nickname his dad, Jake, had given the infant as soon as he was brought into this world. And Neteyam couldn't help but agree, he was his little mini-me. "I got you."

Shifting his body, the warrior brought his right arm behind your head giving you some kind of support, then held onto his boy's bottom as Ateyo easily latched onto your swollen nipple. "Wish daddy could do that." Even in your sleep-deprived state, you couldn't help but let a warm smile make its way onto your face.

You placed a hand under Neteyam's to help cradle your son on your chest, wincing as he hungrily drank from you. "Such a beautiful, caring mother." Your head nuzzled into Neteyam's chest, craving his loving embrace. The man pressed kisses onto the top of your head then trailed down to your forehead. "I'm so sorry that I fell asleep on you, muntxate. I can't believe I did that."

You hummed against his warm skin, allowing your sleepy eyes to partly open and meet Neteyam's gaze. His amber iris was filled with guilt, which made your heart ache. "Teyam, you went on a huge hunt yesterday," you whispered, raising your hand from Neteyam's arm to cradle the back of Ateyo's head. "You managed to kill a Talioang all on your own and even dragged the beast halfway to the village with just your Ikran before help arrived." Neteyam loves it when you speak about his accomplishments with such pride in your tone. "You provide nourishment for me to be able to produce milk for our baby, so one night of me being up with Ateyo is a sacrifice I'm willing to make."

Neteyam pressed a kiss to your lips, trying to express how much he loves you through this simple act of affection. "Next time, wake me up." You chuckled into his mouth while caressing Ateyo's cheek, causing him to slowly droop his eyes into sleep.

"I'll try, yawne."

Neteyam kissed your lips again, running his fingertips against his son's back, watching him get milk drunk off your sweet breasts. "No, you will," you didn't reply, only nuzzled your head into the nook of his neck, letting the warrior hold onto you and the baby. "And to make it up to you, I'm gonna let you rest. I'm gonna take Ateyo with me today." This had you pull away with widened eyes.

"But neither one of us has taken Ateyo out in the village alone." It's true. You and Neteyam would take Ateyo to the village to socialize as a family, but you always did it together because both of you were kind of scared to do it alone, fearing that something might happen to the little guy. There's plenty of things that can hurt the baby in the village, but it was safe at home.

"I know, Y/n, but I want to do this for you. Plus, I want to show off my son to the trainees. I want to let everyone know that we created such a handsome man," Neteyam cooed while pressing kisses to your forehead, then kissing Ateyo on the crown of his head.

You smiled warmly, then sank back into his embrace. "Just be careful, yawne, and if there's one misplaced hair on his head-"

"Calm down, mama. They'd have to get through daddy first." Hearing that allowed you to go right asleep in Neteyam's arms with Ateyo nursing on your chest. With a partner as good as Neteyam, you were beyond grateful for your little family.

_____

As you awoke for the second time today, you subconsciously reaching your hands out for Neteyam's warmth. However your body needed a few more minutes of rest, so before opening your eyes. You fell back to sleep.

This time, it seems like you've woken up by the silence of your home. No sound from the little mouth that used to chatter for milk every few hours. Your eyes slowly flicker open, but your mind feels fuzzy and slow. As you roll over, you realize the bed is empty. At first, you let your mind roam free, wondering where the child is, until you remember that Neteyam mentioned taking him out this morning.

A wave of sadness washes over you. You've never been apart from Ateyo since he was born. The baby was always within arm's reach, even when you were learning your tsahík duties with Mo'at. And Neteyam was always by your side.

Even when he had to go back to training with his dad, he'd make sure you had everything you needed, so you wouldn't have to leave the swaynivi for anything. You let out a loving sigh, thinking about how amazing Neteyam is as a mate. You decided to take his advice and relax.

Climbing out of the swaynivi, you made your way through the dense forest. The birdsongs of the late morning welcomed you as you inhaled the scent of flowers and greenery. It had been almost two months since you had taken a walk through Eywa's creation, as Neteyam had you bedridden near the time for Ateyo to be born.

You couldn't help but giggle, reminiscing about how Neteyam would always get a little flustered whenever you accidentally bumped into a tree or attempted to hunt a tiny bird. Fortunately, your pregnancy progressed quite smoothly, with only sporadic spurts of morning sickness and some minor body aches. Before long, the air in the forest resonated with the sound of your contagious laughter, filling the surroundings with pure joy.

As you felt the hard dirt turn moist under your feet, you knew you were heading towards the small waterfall. Maneuvering yourself around the narrow paths that were clearly overgrown with plant life, the quiet sound of rushing water filled your eardrums. The excitement of the moment caused you to run through the foliage like a kid.

As you dashed through the familiar bushes, you gracefully skip past the leaves and stumbled upon a hidden gem—a small waterfall gracefully flowing between two majestic rocks. Its height barely accommodated Neteyam's towering frame. The water descended with a sense of liberation, creating a delicate mist that danced in the air as it cascaded down the enchanting boulders.

The water was so clear that you didn't hesitate to walk in. You gasped at how cool it was, but still welcomed the feeling and so did your achy muscles. The water just barely reached the bottom on your cheeks. With nimble fingers, you untied your top and glided the material through the water. You figured that while you were here, you'd wash your clothes and make new ones, since you have the time.

Once you were satisfied with your top, you placed it against a sunlit rock. Carefully, you untied your bottoms to repeat the process. Satisfied with them, you gently laid them next to your top. The soothing sounds of the cascading waterfall beckoned you closer. Slowly, you turned in the water, making your way to the steady stream, and stepped into its refreshing embrace. The cold temperature took your breath away, but it was exactly what you needed. After a month of caring for a newborn, you felt your muscles relax as the stress washed away with each droplet.

As you lower yourself into the water, sitting cross-legged, you feel its gentle touch on your tender breasts. Closing your eyes, you relish in the pure bliss. Inhaling deeply, you find a momentary escape from your worries. Your fingers delicately trace the stretch marks on your stomach, cherishing the beautiful reminders of your precious baby boy.

The cold water washes away the sweat and grime, and you can't help but cup your breasts in your hands, feeling how full they are with milk. Guilt and sadness consume you as you think of Ateyo. You wonder if he's hungry, trying to relieve some pressure from the milk buildup beneath the water's surface. But you know that Neteyam is more than qualified to take care of your son; you're just being a worried mama. Shaking away the worry, you continue to relax, knowing that if Neteyam needs you, he'll find you.

_____

You spent some time by the cascade pond and discovered plants with roots that are good for oral health. You made a paste out of them to help with Ateyo's teething pains or for hygiene purposes. Since Eywa is a great provider, the leaves of the plant didn't go to waste. You even made yourself a new outfit.

The leaves' smooth texture provided great support for your breasts, alleviating the pain when they were full. Your loincloth fit perfectly, accentuating the vibrant green against your beautiful blue skin. You skillfully wove a thin, cut-up leaf around your tail, adding an exquisite touch to your attire. And of course, you made two bracelets woven in the same pattern throughout your entire look.

The bracelets weren't meant for you, but with your heart racing, you practically skipped through the forest. You entered with nothing but your drained body, and now you feel so refreshed. Plus, you're also leaving with a brand new woven basket, holding your old clothes, paste, and the two special gifts. It's been quite the adventure.

As you come home, you feel a tinge of sadness seeing that Neteyam and Ateyo haven't arrived yet. Your heart sinks a bit, thinking that your baby might be hungry if Neteyam hasn't fed him. To calm your nerves, you settle down on the woven mat in your home, patiently waiting for their return.

However, the minutes felt like an eternity. Finally, you hear footsteps approaching the home, and Neteyam appears with your baby in his arms. A huge smile makes its way to your face, and you jump up from the mat, catching Neteyam's attention.

As those captivating amber eyes locked with yours, your heart stirred with a rush of emotions. You couldn't help but watch in awe as Neteyam sported a mischievous grin and swiftly ascended the tree, ensuring Ateyo was safely nestled in the Iveh k'nivi s'dir, snug against his chest. Once he reached you, you instantly wrapped your arms around his biceps, pressing kisses to the back of your baby's head. "Oh my goodness," you cooed, peeking your head next to Neteyam's so Ateyo could see you.

His tiny face lights up with pure joy, making Neteyam laugh. Ateyo's eyes sparkle, and his little mouth forms the sweetest grin, melting your heart instantly. "My handsome man," you grab under Ateyo's arms and pull him out of the baby-carrier while Neteyam's hand flies under his butt for extra safety.

Once you had your sweet baby cuddled into your chest, Neteyam leaned in and kissed your temple. You turned away from your son for a moment to give your mate a quick kiss on the lips. "Oh, he must be so hungry," you said, reaching behind you to untie your new top. But Neteyam gently stopped you with a touch on your arm.

"Actually, baby, he's eaten." Your eyes widen at the news, and as Ateyo reaches for your unbraided hair, his sloppy mouth presses against the smooth fabric of your top. "Well, it doesn't look like it, but I swear he did."

"How-" Before you could utter a word, a powerful aroma of feminine pheromones enveloped your senses. Your body instinctively responded, ears flattening and a low growl slipping from your lips.

"Shh, mama." Neteyam sensed your maternal instincts awakening, gently cradling the back of your head and drawing it towards his neck. He enveloped you both in a warm embrace, with the baby nestled between you. However, it didn't ease your worries, as you could still detect the scent on him. "I apologize, it was Rini. I thought you wouldn't mind."

Rini was an amazing friend you connected with because both of you experienced pregnancy together. Neteyam often went hunting with her mate, Talion, and it was comforting to have someone who understood your journey. "I took him to the training grounds, and he got fussy because this big guy never wants to stop eating." Honestly, you didn't mind. The Omatikaya women often support each other with milk supply or other needs. It wasn't Rini's scent that bothered you; there was another pheromone that triggered your primal instincts. "So Talion suggested that Rini could feed him, and I genuinely believed it was innocent-"

You shook your head and gave him a teasing lick from his collarbone to his earlobe, rendering him speechless as you explored his neck, drenching him in your scent. "That's not it," you murmured, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

Neteyam tangled his fingers in your hair, gently pulling you back to kiss your moist lips. "Could be anyone, baby. We had quite an adventure today," he whispered. As you gradually regained your composure, you felt a bit silly for overreacting and mumbled a 'sorry' against his lips. You then leaned in to shower Ateyo's face with kisses, enjoying the adorable sounds he made, which you assumed were laughter.

"Don't you dare apologize for loving us," he said, causing a wide grin to spread across your face as you looked up at Neteyam with adoring eyes. "And let me tell you, if I ever caught even a hint of another male's scent on my family, someone I didn't know, I'd instantly go into protective mode." You couldn't help but appreciate how Neteyam always seemed to have the perfect words to make you feel less overwhelmed by your hormones. "But I'm sorry, yawne, I have to get off topic because you look so amazing." You blush as Neteyam compliments your appearance, and Ateyo looks up at you with a smile. "Did you make this today?" He leans in and nuzzles his face in your neck, inhaling deeply.

"But I also whipped up a few other goodies." Neteyam's curiosity is sparked, and he leans in closer, resting his chin on Ateyo's head.

"Well, isn't that a funny coincidence because we actually got you a surprise too!" Your expression turned to one of delightful surprise as you pulled away slightly, catching sight of a beautifully woven satchel draped over Neteyam's shoulder. It was something you had been too caught up in the moment to notice before. "But why don't you go first?" He playfully suggested, gently smoothing Ateyo's tiny tuft of black fuzz for hair with a smile.

With utmost care, you cradled Ateyo in your arms before gently detaching from Neteyam. Your hands swiftly retrieved the meticulously crafted basket. Extending your hand towards him, he grasped it willingly, allowing you to guide him to the floor. There, side by side, you both settled into a comfortable position, sitting cross-legged as excitement filled the air.

Neteyam quickly grabbed the satchel slung over his shoulder and placed it in front of him, while you opened your own bag. "Well, I whipped up some oral paste for when Ateyo's little teeth start coming in, and to keep our breath minty fresh," you proudly shared.

"So that's where you got the new outfit from." Neteyam's keen observation about your new outfit brought a grin to your face. As you playfully twirled the seashell containing the paste in your hand, your boys gently explored the fabric of your top, their hands filled with curiosity.

"In fact, I had some extra material, so..." Your voice trailed off with anticipation as you reached into your bag to put the paste away, before revealing the woven bracelets with a radiant smile. "I made something special for my boys."

Neteyam's eyes widen with excitement as he takes in the two bracelets that you held in the air. "Did you really make these for us?" he asks in awe, grabbing them from your grasp to show them to Ateyo. The bracelets are intricately woven from the leaves you collected from the plant from the waterfall. Each one crafted from nothing but love resulting in a one-of-a-kind gift. "They're absolutely stunning, babygirl! I can't express how much I'll cherish this," he exclaims. "Thank you from the bottom of my heart." Neteyam plants a soft kiss on your cheek before placing the bracelets on Ateyo's wrist and his own. "You're so talented." He cradles Ateyo hand in his marveling at the matching bracelets then he leans in for a long, romantic kiss on your lips.

"Really it was nothing," you mumbled against his lips hearing Ateyo gurgling as he instantly brought his wrist to his mouth to suck on the woven jewelry. "Just wanted to do something special for my boys that's all."

Neteyam shook his head wearing a huge grin kissing you again before pulling away to open his own bag making your nose flare as you smell that aroma again. Shifting Ateyo in your arms you grabbed Neteyam's wrist making him halt his movements to turn to you. "I smell it again." This had Neteyam lift his face, appearing lost in thought as if he was pondering something.

"Maybe," he began, causing you to release your grasp on him and instead rest your hand on his thigh. "We also went berry picking," he stated, pulling out a small purple berry and raising it to your lips. Without hesitation, you accepted it, even though you could smell that pheromone lingering on the fruit. Then, it hit you.

"Was it Marali's trees that you both ventured to?" Marali, a wise and experienced Na'vi woman, has dedicated her years to nurturing a magnificent array of plants that sustain our village. As she gracefully ages, her body started to undergo a natural transformation, signaling the end of her ability to bear children. This change brings about a shift in a Na'vi women's scent, which grows more potent as her womb determines that her time for motherhood has passed.

"Indeed, it was," Neteyam declared with a knowing smile. "The moment she laid eyes on Junior, she couldn't resist him. Can you blame her? He bears an uncanny resemblance to me." Playfully rolling your eyes, you bumped into his shoulder. As his words sank in, a warm blush spread across your cheeks, making you realize the intensity of your earlier outburst. Sensing the shift in your emotions, Neteyam leaned in and planted a soft, affectionate kiss on your lips.

Whispering sweetly, he said, "I adore your protective nature, yawne. I adore everything about you. You do so much for our family." His words made your heart flutter, and tears of joy welled up in your eyes. Lost in the moment, you didn't even notice him discreetly pulling something out of the sachet, cradling it in his hand.

You felt Ateyos's head on your chest drop slightly from drowsiness. Neteyam opened his hands, revealing a sight that left you in awe. It was a magnificent woven necklace, a true work of art. The intricate patterns and vibrant colors mesmerized you. The delicate clay pendant held a tiny heart at its center, resembling delicate fingerprints, with a sprinkle of tiny crystals embedded in the material. With gentle fingers, you traced the contours of the tiny heart, feeling a sense of connection. "It's Ateyo thumbs pressed together to make a heart."

You take the necklace from Neteyam and examine the detail of the jewelry. The intricate curves and creased of Ateyo's little thumbs are captured perfectly and the jewelry shines brightly. You're overwhelmed with emotion as you clutch the necklace to your chest.

"I love you, Neteyam," you declare, your voice filled with affection. Your lips meet his in a deep, passionate kiss, expressing the depth of your love. As you hold him close, mindful of Ateyo nestled on your chest, you cherish the bond you share as a family. Although it's been some time since you last pumped milk from your breasts, the ache is starting to make its presence known. However, you choose to set aside the discomfort, not wanting anything to spoil this precious moment between you and Neteyam.

You were truly amazed by the necklace, rendering you almost speechless. It's a precious keepsake that immortalizes your son's tiny thumbs, allowing you to carry it with you always. Neteyam delicately takes the necklace and places it around your neck, softly brushing his lips over the spot where the clay meets your skin making your breast feel even heavy under his touch.

"I'm so glad you love it, Y/n," Neteyam exclaims with a smile. "Whenever I see you wearing it, it will always bring back memories of Ateyo." He gently strokes your chin, his touch tender and affectionate. "The crystal and colors I chose are a perfect match for you." Your heart swells with a mix of emotions as Neteyam vegans to showers you with kisses.

You tilted your head to give him more room as he nibbled on your neck, causing an involuntary gasp to escape your lips. In that moment, a small mishap occurred as the inside of your top got wet. The fullness in your breasts caused a bit of milk to leak.

The air filled with the sweet scent of your milk, causing mixed reactions from those around. You felt a bit embarrassed, but Neteyam's eyes showed a different emotion. Just as you were about to speak, Ateyo's hungry cries interrupted the tender moment. You chuckled playfully, and Neteyam grinned, shaking his head. He gently removed the Iveh k'nivi s'dir from his chest and suggested, "Should we put the necklace aside and take care of our little warrior's needs?"

"Shhh, Ateyo, I've got you," you whispered, gently comforting the baby, while Neteyam helped you take off the lovely necklace. He then rose to prepare the nursing area for the three of us. Once the space felt warm and inviting, Neteyam reached for his sachet and pulled out a small wooden jar. He walked over to you, helping you to your feet, and tenderly planted kisses on Ateyo's soft scalp, soothing him. "We swung by Mo'at's, and I picked up some oil that's good for your sensitive nipples," he shared, causing a rosy blush to grace your cheeks as Neteyam sported a mischievous smirk. "I know he's a determined eater because Rini... Well, she couldn't help but make funny faces during his early lunch. She even mentioned that their own son doesn't eat that aggressively, which made me feel even more sympathetic. But you, you never complain, yawne. You're an incredible mama."

You kissed Neteyam's lips, placing your finger in Ateyo's mouth to soothe him. "Neteyam, I have nothing to complain about." You admitted letting him guide you to the nursing area. "Our family is everything I've ever wanted." You and Neteyam share a kiss as he helped you untie your top, releasing your breast out in the comfort of your home.

Neteyam lifted up the top of the jar grabbing a little amount of solidified oil and rubbed it into his hands to turn it into a liquid before looking at you like he was asking permission making you grin out a nod. In a complete non sexual manner, your mate softly applied the oil over your sensitive tits. "Suppose to have a cold feel to the skin," experiencing his soft but strong hands over your heavy breasts felt so good. "... to release some of the pain and Mo'at said that the oil can even keep Ateyo's lips soft."

"Really?" you mumbled, adjusting your son to a comfortable position and allowing him to latch onto your breast. He drank eagerly, while you could already feel the effects from the mixture.

"Yeah, daddy might have to check it out for himself." This had you rolling your eyes at his silliness, while Neteyam only snickered. He rose to his feet and sat behind you, pulling you into his warm chest, allowing you to sink into him and letting him carry the weight of you and his son.

As Ateyo nurses noisily from your chest, Neteyam smiles fondly at the peaceful sight and reaches an arm around your body to caress his son's head. Ateyo pauses for a moment to look up at his parents before getting back to sucking. Your eyes couldn't move away from your little handsome man, and you find yourself saying, "Neteyam, you really spoil me too much. Not only did you give me the cutest, sweetest baby, but you genuinely take such good care of me. I feel selfish sometimes."

Neteyam softly caressed your back, a smile appearing on his face radiating with pride at your appreciation. "As your husband, it's my duty to take care of you," he responds, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. "I want you to always be happy and well taken care of. Along with Ateyo, you both are my life." Neteyam leans in and plants a kiss on your temple as Ateyo continues to feed. "But yes, I'll admit that spoiling you is one of my favorite activities." He chuckles, his fingers leaving your back to caress your cheek. "I don't expect anything in return because you already do so much for us. I love making you feel special."

Without your knowledge, earlier Neteyam had discreetly placed the satchel near the nursery area. He momentarily shifted to grab the pouch, then settled back behind you and your son. With a gentle gesture, he presented a berry to your lips, saying, "Now eat, because I know you're hungry after nursing our little one."

Your eyes light up as you feel an unexpected berry against your lips. You turn head and shift your eyes to meet Neteyam's eyes, which are filled with a playful gleam. The two of you share a mischievous smile and you take the berry, eating it hungrily. "You didn't have to do this, Neteyam," you say, your cheeks flushed and your eyes shining. "But I'm very glad that you did." The two of you share another sweet moment together before Neteyam reaches back to the satchel, feeding you another one.

As you savor the last bite of the berry, the sweet juice lingers on your tongue. With Neteyam's gentle caresses and tender kisses, you feel comforted in his embrace. The three of you, united as a family, share this precious, quiet moment together. Closing your eyes, you let the warmth of the scene envelop you, filling your heart with pure happiness for our small but hopefully soon growing family.

Hoped you like it feedback is appreciated!!!

~ Caroline

#neteyam x reader #neteyam imagine #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic #neteyam x omaticaya!reader

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 6 months ago

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6: A FINE LINE

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

You and Bucky deal with the fallout of the undercover mission.

Word count 2.7k

Warnings: Nightmares, angry girlfriends, Steve and Nat being besties to idiots

You were blissfully oblivious to the world while you slept for the whole quinjet flight, waking only as the small plane touched down the runway outside the compound.

"Sorry," Bucky grimaced as you woke with a gasp.

"Are we home?"

You turned to look at him. As he nodded, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the lines of worry across his forehead. He was looking at you with so much apprehension, that you almost reached out to comfort him. Almost. The memories of the previous night came flooding back and sadness filled your heart again.

"How're you feeling?" he asked.

You ignored his question in favor of your own. "Did you fly all the way back without stopping?"

"Yeah," he nodded, his chest swelled with pride that you had noticed what he had done for you.

"That was a dangerous thing to do. You're exhausted." Bucky's face fell but you continued to chastise him anyway. "What if something happened? Are you trying to get us both killed?"

The long sleep had done nothing to improve your mood, you felt sluggish and now you were hungry to boot.

Bucky opened and closed his mouth a few times, before the word ‘sorry' came out in a whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."

"But you did."

The uncomfortable silence between you was broken by a crackle on the radio. "Everything okay in there?" Steve's voice sounded over the radio.

"Yes!" you answered, hitting the button to open the aft exit hatch.

You stood up, the blanket fell off your shoulders and sent a shiver down your spine. You were still only wearing a bikini. Bending down, you picked up the blanket, covering yourself and stalking out of the plane. Bucky followed a few steps behind you.

Steve took one look at you and knew that things weren't right but he was saved the hassle of finding a polite way of letting you know how rough you looked.

"You two look like shit!" Nat appeared from behind Steve. "Why did Tony say everything was fine?"

"We got everything we needed but… the getaway was a little bumpy and my stomach didn't do so well," you pouted.

Natasha put her arm around your waist. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up," she said, leading you away.

Once you were out of earshot of the boys, she rounded on you. "What happened out there?"

"What?" You are taken aback by the tone of her question.

"Come on, don't give me the innocent act. Something happened between you and Barnes."

You sighed deeply. Bucky's words played in your mind on a loop. You felt deflated. "Do you think I'm a bad friend?"

"Oh sweetie, no one would ever suggest anything of the sort."

"I said something, I knew he wouldn't like it. And he got really mad and said some really awful things."

"What did he say?"

You couldn't bring yourself to repeat his words, even though they were burned into your brain. For some reason, you still felt the urge to protect Bucky. Logically, you knew he didn't deserve it, but your heart, the stupid organ that loved him unconditionally, had more sway over you in that moment. "It doesn't matter."

You were saved from further interrogation as your stomach rumbled loudly.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up and fed. You can rest after that."

"Nat, did the intel pan out?"

"Yeah," your friend grinned at you. "You did good."

You felt a smile tug at your lips, at least you had been able to achieve something of use. Even if you had tanked your friendship in the process.

Meanwhile, back in the hangar bay, Steve was having a similar conversation with Bucky.

"Well I’m assuming from the way you’re both acting, something happened between you two."

"You’re a punk, you know that." Bucky huffed.

"And you’re a jerk." Steve quipped fondly.

"I was a jerk. I think I’ve ruined everything."

"What happened?"

Bucky was too ashamed of the words he had used. His soul burned with shame at the spite he had felt. He had never understood why people used the phrase ‘a fine line between love and hate’, until now. Because in that moment, for the briefest of milliseconds, Bucky had hated you; for what you’d said to him, but mostly because you didn’t love him back. He wanted to give you the world, and you wouldn’t take it. His heart was broken and you had offered to mend it, only to break it again. He would do anything to quash that feeling, shove it back inside a bottle, put a cork in it and throw it out into the deepest of oceans.

Hatred was the feeling that surrounded him as the Winter Soldier. He was hated by his keepers and hated by the world around him. Now it had crept into his soul and stained his thoughts of you. Worst of all, he hated himself for the things he had said to you.

"I think I’m going to lose her."

"Bucky, just tell her how you feel about her."

"I can’t. Not anymore, not after this."

"Bucky-"

"Would you just drop it, Steve? Why’re you so keen on this? Are you trying to get me to destroy everything so you can have her all to yourself?" Bucky rounded on Steve, unleashing his anger on the only other person who had stuck by him unyieldingly.

Steve just looked back at him, pity filling his eyes. He knew how badly Bucky was hurting. Meeting the person who you love more than anything else in life and not being able to be with them, he had suffered the same pain when he had woken from the ice, knowing that he would never get to dance with Peggy in his lifetime.

Bucky’s anger had flared suddenly and was equally as quick to dissipate, his shoulders sagging from sheer exhaustion. He had been up for almost thirty turbulence filled hours. He needed rest. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, waving away Bucky’s attempts to apologize. He guided him back to his room, requesting that FRIDAY have someone send food to his room. Steve sat on his bed, waiting while Bucky showered. Despite the powerful shower sounds coming from the bathroom, Steve could hear you and Nat talking. He couldn’t make out your words, but he heard the gravity of your tone.

"Oh Buck," he sighed quietly.

Nat left you just before Bucky came out of the shower. Bucky looked surprised that Steve was still here.

"You need to eat." Steve pointed at the meal that someone had delivered. He started unpacking it for Bucky.

"I’m tired. I should sleep," he said pointedly, indicating that he wanted Steve to leave.

Steve picked up the sandwich and handed it to Bucky. "Eat this and I’ll leave you alone."

Bucky complied. He was good at that. He finished the grilled cheese sandwich without any enjoyment, the bread tasting like sandpaper in his dry mouth. "Happy?" he asked, gruffly.

Steve didn’t answer, leaving Bucky to the solace he sought. Not that Steve’s departure did anything to assuage the guilt that had seeped deep into Bucky’s bones. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from his bed, glancing at the door, almost as though Steve would sneak back in. When no one appeared, he spread the blanket on the floor and lay down on it, closing his eyes on the world that was filled with pain.

Unfortunately for Bucky, his subconscious offered him no relief. His mind was tired, his emotions ruled the roost and left him susceptible for the nightmares to invade. They seeped in with stealth and gripped him like a vice.

It was midnight when a noise woke you. You startled, breathing heavily as your eyes darted around in the darkness, body immediately on high alert. It always took a few days to let the safety of your environment lull your body into a sense of security. You listened carefully for signs of disruption, but for several moments there was only silence. Just as your heart rate settled, you heard it again, much clearer this time and you knew exactly what it was and where it was coming from.

Without thinking, you shot out of bed and rapped your knuckles against Bucky's bedroom door. He didn't answer, he never did when he was like this. Fortunately, you were an old hat to this routine. You crouched on the floor, calling his name gently until his eyes opened. The moonlight flooded through his uncovered window and you moved to an angle where he could see you. Only when his eyes focused on you, did you touch him, lay a comforting hand on his arm.

Bucky sat up slowly, eyes filled with unshed tears as he gazed at you sorrowfully. The anguish in his face was unbearable and you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. His arms wormed their way around your waist holding you in a tight embrace, one you never wanted to leave. His warmth, his sturdiness was your strength, your pillar. You needed him just as he needed you.

You didn't have any plans on moving and Bucky made no move to let you go, but eventually your body protested. You were sitting on your lower legs and the pressure on them reduced the blood flow leading to a painful tingling which started in your toes and was spreading upwards. Maybe a little wiggle would help restore your feeling.

Your movement didn't go unnoticed by Bucky. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking his nose out of your neck.

"My legs fell asleep," you groaned.

He chuckled in response. "Need to get up?"

You nodded, wobbling to your feet like a baby deer standing for the first time. Once you had recovered your balance and the tingling had ceased to be painful, you jumped up and down a few times for good measure. "Human body wasn't made for this. Come?" You held out your hand for him.

He took it without hesitation. "Where’re we going?"

"Not far." You led him to the bed. "I thought we'd put a stop to this." You pointed at the floor.

"Sorry," he whispered.

You sighed, jerking your head towards the bed indicating that he should get in. Dubiously he followed your instruction, relieved that you chose to get in beside him rather than running away. He pulled the duvet up to cover your legs and you sank into the pillows beside him. It was so much easier to be close to him physically than emotionally these days.

Bucky was looking at you, you could feel his gaze but you didn't return it, not knowing what to say. He solved your problem by initiating the conversation.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. But maybe we can discuss your driving skills some time. They need some work."

"I'm sorry for…" he sighed. "For everything."

"Do you really think I'm a slut?"

"No!" His answer came back so fast, there was really no room for doubt. The way his eyes stared into yours, you could feel his regret.

After a few moments of contemplative silence you asked him another question. "Since when do you watch porn, Bucky? I mean, we used to spend all our time together. And it’s not with Steve, I know that much."

"Well sometimes, when Sam, Clint and Tony-"

"Say no more."

"I didn’t think they were realistic, but on the mission, when you started talking like that… it made me wonder if it’s real, and if I’m not doing things right. I mean, what if I’m not good enough, you know? And I was angry. I mean I know it was wrong, I knew it would hurt you. But… you hurt me and … I wanted to hurt you back." Bucky hung his head with the admission.

"I’m sorry about that… I just - it’s just, she makes me feel like I’m not your favorite person anymore and I hate that."

"You’re jealous?"

You shrug. What could you say, of course you were jealous, your insides were withering and dying from the envy that consumed you.

"But you’re never jealous of anything, or anyone!" Bucky carried on, not being able to read your expression in the darkness.

"You have to care enough to be envious of somebody."

"You care about me?" he smiled.

"If you didn’t already know that, you’re dumber than I thought."

Bucky chuckled, but it turned into a sigh. "I’m sorry for calling you a slut."

"I’m sorry for mocking your girlfriend. Just so you know, Priya seems like the kind of person who will let you know if she isn't pleased. Can't imagine she would just lie there and take it."

"Yeah she probably would. I guess you don’t get to her position without being able to speak up for yourself."

"Her position?"

"She just got promoted to head of pediatric surgery. That’s a big deal, right?"

The little green monster inside you growled angrily, amplifying your feelings of inadequacy. "Yeah, that’s pretty impressive," you answered softly. "Congratulations to her."

Bucky curled up beside you, burying his head against your shoulder. "Thanks, Cricket," he muttered, drowsily.

His voice was low and tired and a wave of guilt washed over you. He was trying. You could see how hard he was trying to be a good boyfriend and a good friend. "Go to sleep, Bucky."

"Night." It was surprising how quickly he fell asleep. Even super soldiers needed time to recover.

Once his breathing was shallow and even, you whispered back to him. "Goodnight, Bucky. I love you." You closed your eyes and joined him in slumberland.

"Jamie?"

Priya’s voice floated into your ear, waking you.

"Jamie!"

The bed shook as Bucky shot up from his position beside you and you opened your eyes to see a very pissed off looking girlfriend standing at the end of Bucky’s bed.

"Priya!" Bucky exclaimed.

"What’s happening here?" Her voice was quiet, forceful, dripping with anger.

"Look, it’s not what this looks like," Bucky protested.

Priya rounded on you. "Are you sleeping with him?"

"No, Priya. I’m not sleeping- we didn’t have sex," you said emphatically. "We just fell asleep, we were talking and it was two in the morning and..."

Priya’s eyes narrowed and she looked between you and Bucky. "Talking? At two in the morning? Steve said you got home yesterday afternoon."

Bucky jumped in, trying to diffuse the tension. “It’s not like that, Priya. Cricket was just… I had a nightmare and… well,” he shrugged. “We fell asleep. I haven’t had one in a long time. I know you haven’t seen what it’s like, and I’m grateful for that.”

Priya crossed her arms, clearly not buying it. "And you couldn’t go back to your own room after you woke him up from the bad dream?"

You could see the hurt in Priya’s eyes, and you felt guilty for being the cause of it. She had never been outright unkind to you, in fact she had tried being friendly, tried getting to know you. You were the one who had shut her out.

"For what it’s worth, Bucky is the most trustworthy person I know. He would never do something like that to you. I promise that nothing physical has ever happened between us. I’m not a slut. But, I’m going to go,” you said quietly, “let you guys talk."

Bucky hesitated, looking from you to Priya. His heart sank as he processed the words you had spoken, he knew he had hurt you deeply with his words and his heart ached with regret.

She sighed, her anger softening slightly. "Fine, explain."

Bucky took a deep breath, his eyes pleading with Priya. "I know this looks bad, but Cricket is just a friend, I swear. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Priya looked at him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay, I believe you. But don’t let it happen again, Bucky."

Bucky nodded, relief flooding his face. "I won’t, I promise."

You stood up, feeling like an intruder in their moment. "I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sorry for causing any trouble."

Priya gave you a small smile. "It’s okay, Cricket. Thank you for being honest."

As you walked out of the room, you could help but feel another pang of jealousy. Since Priya had come into your life, you were on the outside, always looking in. Would you ever be more than you'd always been?

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lillianacristina @mostlymarvelgirl @wintercrows @buckitostan

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #my best friend's girl

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vigilante-3073 · 9 months ago

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Wedding Bells Or Separations?

James Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: Something has changed between Wilson and the head of the Pediatrics Department. House is feeling bored and decides to investigate.

TW: Fluff, House (Warning in itself), talk of weddings/pregnancy/breast size.

House walked into the cafeteria, scanning the room until his bright blue eyes located Wilson and L/N. They sat in the same side of a booth with Wilson's arm wrapped around her shoulder as they ate lunch together. Her legs were crossed, high heeled shoe bobbing up and down slowly underneath the table. L/N's body was angled towards Wilson as they talked, her hand resting on his thigh.

They were close. Too close.

Something was off in their relationship, it was like the dynamic had changed overnight. House made his way across the room, sliding into the booth across from them, "What's new with my favorite couple?" House asked, grabbing a fry from L/N's plate.

"We're good. How are you, House?" L/N asked.

"Bored," House stated, chewing the fried potato.

"God, help us all," Wilson muttered.

L/N smiled, shaking her head slightly as she picked up a french fry from her plate.

"What has peaked your interest for today then, House?" L/N asked, biting into the fry.

"I wouldn't ask that," Wilson suggested.

L/N shrugged, shifting closer to Wilson's side as her hand slid down his thigh towards his knee.

"Your breasts look amazing," House stated, eyes flickering down to the top of her dress.

L/N let out a disbelieving scoff, "Wow, that's definitely not what I was expecting you to say," She said.

"I would appreciate it if you didn't comment on the appearance of my girlfriend's breasts," Wilson said.

"The sudden uprising of those beautifully sculpted, perky fun-bags could be a gift courtesy of a new push-up bra or it could be due to first trimester hormones," House continued, choosing not to acknowledge Wilson's comment.

"I am not pregnant, House," L/N said.

"Your mood swings are doing little to convince me, but the fact that you haven't gained any weight-," "Be careful how you finish that sentence, House," L/N said firmly.

"I'll drop the topic completely if you take a pregnancy test," House offered, grabbing another fry from her plate.

"I am not pregnant," L/N repeated.

"Pee in a cup then," House argued.

She huffed, "James, help me," L/N said.

"She is not letting you test her urine. Forget it, House," Wilson stated firmly.

"Fine... But something has changed between you two and I'm going to find out what it is," House said.

"Whatever you say, House," Wilson said, taking a drink from his coffee cup.

...

House walked through the hallways of Princeton-Plainsboro with Cameron, Chase and Foreman following closely behind him. House narrowed his eyes slightly when he saw Wilson and L/N standing at the nursing station. She smiled at something he said, scribbling something down in her patient file before tucking her pen into the pocket of her lab coat. L/N turned to face him, hands raising up to adjust his green tie.

"Get an MRI and come find me when you see the abscess that's killing him," House ordered.

"But shouldn't we-" "Scram, kiddos, daddy has some work to do," House said.

He broke off from the group, approaching Wilson and L/N, "You haven't worn that god-awful tie since before your divorce," House stated.

"Nice to see you too, House," Wilson sighed.

"Either you're pregnant, you're engaged or you're breaking up and overcompensating," House listed.

"She is not pregnant, House," Wilson said.

"Then that just leaves wedding bells or separations... But you're too smart to be overcompensating because you know that I would be able to tell the difference," House said, eyeing the pair suspiciously.

"Let it go, House. We're happy," Wilson said.

"Too happy. It's an anomaly," House stated.

"My god, is he always this exhausting?" L/N questioned.

"Tiredness... Pregnancy is back on the board," House said.

L/N sighed, "I'm going back to work. See you at dinner," L/N said, grabbing her file and pressing a quick kiss to Wilson's cheek before walking off.

"Please, let it go, House," Wilson said after she was out of earshot, taking his own file and leaving House to his thoughts.

...

Wilson and L/N sat across from each other in the dimly lit restaurant. He laughed at something she said before lifting his wine glass to his lips. L/N's smile suddenly fell as she looked up at something behind him.

"Is everything okay?" Wilson asked, turning to look. He huffed when he saw House making his way over to them.

Wilson turned back to L/N, "I am so sorry about whatever he's going to do or say," Wilson said.

"I know," She smiled.

"Hey, guys! I didn't know you'd be here tonight. Small world," House smiled, pulling up a chair and sitting at their table.

"Wine? Pretty irresponsible to drink while pregnant," House mused.

L/N sighed, taking a sip from her glass before setting it down on the table.

House's eyes zeroed in on the folder on the corner of the table.

"Dinner and a consult? Way too fancy a place for that," House said, reaching for the folder.

L/N rested her hand on top of it, "House, can we please talk about this another time?" L/N asked.

"Show me what's in the file," House said.

L/N sighed, eyes locking with Wilson's across the table. He nodded, L/N picked up the file and held it out to House.

He took the folder from her hand and flipped it open, eyes scanning across the various photos and documents.

"Flowers, venues, colors, foods, cake... You're getting married?" House asked, looking up at Wilson and L/N.

She lifted the chain from around her neck, revealing the engagement ring that had been hidden by the neckline of her dress.

House stared at the jewlery in silence, "You're engaged," He stated.

"I proposed two weeks ago," Wilson admitted.

"You kept this hidden from me for two weeks? I'm impressed," House said, eyes dropping back down to the file.

"I'd go with pink and grey," House said, flipping the file closed and holding it out to L/N.

She took the folder, "Enjoy your dinner," House said, standing up from his chair and making his way out of the restaurant.

#james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #james wilson imagine #james wilson #james wilson x female reader #house md imagine #house imagine #gregory house #house md

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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Yoriichi saving you just in time from getting killed by a demon

Pairing: Yoriichi x midwife!reader

Word Count: 4k

Synopsis: Your job takes you to the poor Kamado family, who are expecting their first child. But instead of a joyful birth, you are greeted by the cruel claws of a demon. What luck that an extraordinary swordsman shows up on this fateful evening.

Warnings: near death, injury, child birth, I'm not a midwife mystelf so this part isn't that detailed, lots of angst but comfort, this is my first demon slayer fic EVER so please show some support, I really appreciate it 🤍 (added 2 additional pics into the fanfic because I'm so amazed by the insane quality of these ai pics)

Tags: @froufrousnowman

„Excuse my rude interruption, but is this the Kamado residence?”

You are exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead on this warm summer day, the sun shining down on you with all its strength. But you were called here, so you came. After all, this is your job. As a midwife by heart, you fear no weather when it comes to aid another woman by delivering her child.

“Yes, I am Sumiyoshi Kamado. Are you the midwife we were calling for?”

The man in front of you smiles at you kindly. You can tell by one look into his inviting eyes that he’ll be an amazing father. But before that, you have some work to do.

“That’s right, my name is (y/n). May I see your wife?”, you ask kindly, taking off the package of tools you were carrying on your back.

“She’s sleeping at the moment, but please allow me to lead you inside. Would you like to eat or drink something? I just cooked dinner!”

The excitement dripping from his voice really warms your heart. In times like these, gifting a child into the world seems like a burden, like an impossible task. It was in no way granted that an expected child was in any way welcomed. You’ve seen it all, the horrible things father and mother would do to prevent the new life from existing, how fate itself decided to stretch its hands out and take the child away from this earth way too soon. You’ve seen tears of joy, tears of grief, tears of despair. But oh, just one loving look of fresh mother and father into their babies’ tiny face is enough to make it all worth it for you.

“How did your wife feel within the last days? Did she complain about pain, especially in her back? Bleeding? Did she have to defecate more often than usual?”

Carefully, you place your tools onto a white cloth and disinfect your hands with strong alcohol when entering the room.

“She looks very peaceful, that’s great”, you hush.

What a beautiful woman she is, laying on her side with her hands covering her belly even while she sleeps safe and sound. Instinctively you kneel down next to her, gently caressing her cheek.

“This is your first child, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And I am beyond grateful you decided to help her even though we aren’t able to pay you decently. I wish I could give you more-“

“Please, don’t worry about it. I really enjoy being here. And if it helps your wife, no coins in the world are a better reward”, you interrupt with soft voice, looking down at her one last time before getting up and silently leaving the room along with her husband.

Your eyes dart towards the small window. How lovely the sunset looks today. Is it already this late? You must have been traveling for quite some time. As if on cue, your stomach begins to rumble. Well, maybe a cup of tea and something warm to eat would be a blessing right now.

“I am a little nervous. After all, I know nothing about the birth of children and how to care for them afterwards. But I love my wife so dearly, imagining a little child with her eyes truly makes me feel whole. Do you have any children yourself?”

What a kind man he is, sitting opposite to you with a cup of tea in his hand and his eyes glistening in the down-going sun. Despite the cruelness of the world, the tales of demons hunting down humans with what seems like no aim, all the bitterness and tears, this man was able to keep his warm smile and optimism.

“No. While I do adore children, I am not married. It’s hard to find a man willing to marry a midwife”, you explain briefly.

There is no sense in denying the fact that you are of low birth, a self-taught midwife since no man was willing to teach you. And in a world full of gorgeous young girls with skin like porcelain and kimono’s worth more than your housing, you will never catch the attention of a male. But somehow, you’ve found your inner peace with that. After all, helping other woman to finally receive their own little family fills you with enough joy to overlook that you’ll never have a man or a chid by your side yourself.

Confident knocks against the wooden door rip you out of your conversation.

“Are you awaiting someone?” you question.

Within the village you live in, it is told over and over to not leave the house after sunset. And while you don’t consider yourself superstitious, not going out when it’s all dark always seemed plausible enough for you. But now, the sun almost set, the trees around you barely lighten by the weak beam.

“No, but maybe it is someone who needs help.”

You get up from the ground, mindlessly holding onto the cloak in your hands tightly while holding your breath. It might be someone in the need of help. But out here in the woods, who knows…Shivers run down your spine, eyes staring at the door filled with curiosity.

The sight in front of you isn’t one of a robber, an old lady in distress or a demon though. Your orbs widen slightly. No, this is a man. And what a man he is.

The way he carries himself with so much peace and elegance. He looks…majestic. His fuchsia eyes lay upon your host. And even though you don’t understand from afar what they are talking about, you can tell that his firm but calm voice could tame entire oceans. What a remarkable perfect face he has, the only interruption being a scar covering his forehead. So elegantly clothed with a katana attached to his belt? You draw a little closer, take in his sight a little clearer. He looks like one of the men you’ve seen before in your village right after a whole family was brutally killed during night. He was armoured with a katana too. Could it be?

“Are you a demon slayer?”

You want to curse yourself for speaking to him so ruthlessly, for interrupting their conversation so harshly. But you’ve got so lost in his sight that it seems your mouth opened itself.

“Indeed. This is a riskful area. Keep your doors and windows locked during night time and do not leave your wife unattended. Please don’t roam around the house on your own and stay with your husband”, he instructs towards both of you.

Why does he look at you while calling you “wife”? You blink a few times when realization slowly but surely hits you. Oh. Your face reddens instantly, eyes snapping towards your host in pure shock.

“Oh, you misunderstood! She isn’t my wife, but the midwife that will help my wife delivering our firstborn. She’s sleeping at the moment”, he explains calmly while smiling at you.

The stranger’s eyes lock with yours, you can’t help but hold your breath. From all the men you’ve seen come and go in your lifetime, he definitely is the most captivating one. Is it because of his flawless appearance, because he carries himself with so much elegance? Or is it the calmness that radiates from his voice, the power you’re able to sense on him? Maybe nothing, maybe both.

“That is very kind for you. I will stay in this area tonight, but please look after yourself”, the stranger continues, glancing at you one last time before turning around and heading back into the woods.

“Thank you!”

“What an interesting man!”, your host comments towards you, closing and locking the door like he was told you.

“Do you believe in demons?”, you question.

His eyes darts towards you, the positive spark in them gone for the split of a second.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of deaths that happened during the night, terrible massacres with no one surviving. I am firmly convinced that a human being could never to something like that.”

“Humans can be cruel too”, you argue, pictures of all the horrible things you’ve seen within the years you’ve been working as a midwife flooding your mind.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder who the real monsters in this world are. The demons, the wild animals? Or humans who pretend to be on top of the world, who tear down everything and everyone when they feel like it?

“That is correct. But we are trying our best, right? And that is all that matters for me.”

“It’s getting late, I should look after your wife. Is it alright if I rest with her for today?” you mumble, fingers fumbling with the white cloak to distract your mind from the stranger, from his words, from this whole conversation.

“Of course! I will prepare everything!”

You sign to yourself, gaze glued onto the woman laying in front you sleeping peacefully. Everything will turn good, right?

-at night-

Your eyes shoot open immediately, roaming around the dark room. There they lay, bodies intertwined with each other while being fast asleep. What was that fade away rustle you’ve heard, then? As quietly as possible you lift yourself off the futon Kamado-san prepared for you, naked feet greeted by the cold of the wooden floor underneath. Maybe you just dreamed it. Or is an animal outside? Given the fact that you are located in the middle of a forest, this wouldn’t be a surprise. You furrow your eyebrows, a fade away cracking from outside catching your attention all over again. No, something is off, you can sense it by the way your guts turn.

Instinctively, your hands grab the knife with which Kamado-san prepared your food just a few hours ago. You are by no means an experienced fighter, you have been skilfully avoiding situations like this your entire life. But waking up both of them over nothing would be ridiculous. Just a little glimpse outside the door, just to check on what’s probably a deer. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, palms sweaty in response.

With your free hand, you grasp the handle of the door. Breathe in, breathe out. Tame your pounding heart, get a hold of yourself. With a swift motion, you swing it open.

And get greeted by a pair of venomous red eyes.

There is no time to react any further. Not too late you are able to escape his grasp, naked feet carrying you further inside the forest.

“A demon! There’s a demon outside! Get into safety! A demon!” you scream on top of your lungs.

Please, let Kamado-san hear your desperate cries, let him drag his wife into safety. The disturbing tall and crippled figure of the demon draws closer to the house, closer to the soon to be family.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Sympathy, a protective instinct? Whatever it is forces you backwards, right into the claws of the demon.

“I can’t allow you to harm a single soul in this house”, you hiss through gritted teeth, holding onto the knife in your hands for dear life.

How is it even possible to kill a demon? Do you even stand a chance against it? It doesn’t matter now. You slash forward with a cry of determination, aiming for its carotid artery. The cut doesn’t have to be deep if you hit him with enough precision, your muscle strength should be enough.

But before you are even able to come close to his body, his claw slices open your right arms with ease. Your eyes widen in pure horror, body unable to move even an inch. It moved so fast you weren’t even able to see its hand moving, sliced you open so effortlessly while you’re gasping for air like a fish on land.

Your body falls to the ground, the demon positioning itself on top of you. No, you won’t let it end like this. After all, you still have plenty of work to do, Kamado-san’s wife didn’t deliver her child yet. With full force you push your arms against it, trying to keep your keep your face out of its gaping mouth.

With one push you free your arm, yanking the knife into its eye. Now or never. While its loud groans fill the air with fright, you get off the ground, run deeper into the forest, desperately try to stay alive. You can’t die like this. Not you, not Kamado-san, not his wife, not their unborn baby.

But the demon is right on your tracks, hunting you down the dark forest without any mercy.

“Ouch.”

A moment of inattention is enough for you to stumble over a thick branch, knees meeting the floor harshly. Is this your end? All you can do is stare up, glossy eyes widen in the dim moonlight with a tiny trail of its blood on your face. Hopefully the demon slayer from last evening will return soon enough to at least safe Kamado-san and his family. If not you, at least they need to survive.

There you kneel, face gone emotionless, orbs directed towards the frightening creature that lunges towards you. One hit. One hit of its claws will be enough to behead you. One second and your life will be nothing more than a fade away whisper in the darkness, ended way too soon just like so many others. You never thought it would be you, that of all the people you’d get killed by a demon slayer. After all, you were always so skilled in avoiding trouble, never allowing yourself to get into danger.

But oh, now you are. And it will cost you your young life.

Yoriichi can’t catch his breath, feet carrying him so rapidly to the scene laying itself out in front of him that the trees around him merge. He told you to stay inside, to keep windows and doors shut. Why are you outside? Where are the man and his wife? Please, let it not be too late, let him be able so safe those people.

Finally. With a determined slash of his blade, the demon in from of him gets beheaded, its ashes raining down onto the ground. You look…uninjured. Frightened, in pure shock, but uninjured. And unbelievably lovely with the dim moonlight highlighting the delicate features of your face.

“Are you alright?” he questions softly, slowly approaching you and stretching out his hand.

Carefully he lifts your trembling limbs off the ground, your hand holding onto his for what seems like dear life while your sharp and heavy breaths hang in the cool air.

“Yes”, you finally breathe out.

“Are the other two alright? Did someone get hurt?”

“There are inside. It was only this one. I lured him away”, you huff.

Yoriichi swore himself to never get close to another human being again, to fulfil his duty in silence. But you…Did you really risk your life for a family you didn’t even know until yesterday? Did you run into the woods so selflessly to distract the demon? What a brave woman you are, truly remarkable.

“I was hoping for you to return”, you add.

His warm hand feels almost therapeutic against yours, calming down your tingling nerves and beating heart. You survived. Is this really possible? While kneeling down and staring right into the face of that frightful demon, you already accepted your fate. But that he’ll show up like a knight in shining armour, saving you just before getting beheaded…It seems like a miracle to you.

“I came here as fast as I could. This area was full of these creatures”, he explains briefly, fuchsia eyes resting on you.

“(y/n)!”

A thick stone falls from your heart. It’s him.

“Kamado-san, is your wife alright? Are you alright?” you blabber, the man sprinting towards you as if his life depends on it.

“You saved us. Even though you don’t even know me and my wife, you risked your own life to save ours. And you…You really came. I’m beyond thankful.”

He falls to his knees, leaving you completely speechless.

“She really was outstanding brave. Normally the sight of a demon alone is enough for most humans to lose their minds. You are exceptional, (y/n).”

It sounds so strange, hearing your name out of this charismatic stranger’s mouth. But the way his eyes lock with yours sends shivers down your spine, makes your heart pound against your ribcage all over again.

“What is your name?”

“Yoriichi Tsugikuni.”

Yoriichi. What an exceptional name that matches his majestic appearance perfectly. It seems so easy to get lost in his eyes, to study every inch of his face. And his smell…

“I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation, but I think my wife will deliver her child soon.”

Your eyes dart towards Kamado-san immediately.

“Why are you saying so?”

“Since she woke up from your screams, she seems to have contractions.”

You don’t think twice. As fast as your feet are able to carry you, you sprint back into the house, back to the reason why you originally came here.

-the next morning-

“Sleep well. You deserve it”, you whisper into the woman’s ear gently, wrapping her up inside a blanket before leaving the room discretely.

The birth went smooth and faster than you expected for a first born. Not long after you arrived by her side, she delivered the baby with tears of joy running down her face, her husband telling her over and over how much he loves her. It was bittersweet, seeing in front of your very own eyes what you’ll never have. Just after encountering him, just after those strange feeling that he triggered in you.

“I’m glad to see you are alright.”

You stop in your tracks, staring at the back of him in disbelief. There he sits, facing the sun while his broad shoulders catch your attention all over again.

“I’ll make some tea”, Kamado-san discretely announces before hushing into the house.

“I am in no way responsible for the miracle that happened tonight. That was you and Kamado-san’s wife”, you explain briefly, sitting down next to him.

The sun caresses your skin gently. You never thought its hot beams would calm your nerves before the incident of this night. You smile at the little bundle of joy Yoriichi is holding in his arms. Oh, how well it suits him. Someone like him must be a good father.

“I’ll be leaving after I had a cup of tea. It wouldn’t be right to keep eating for free here”, he announces all of the sudden.

“Don’t say that.”

Out of instinct, you place on hand on his firm shoulder and wrap the other around his strong biceps.

“You saved our lives tonight. It if hadn’t be for you, not only would we be dead, but this child you’re holding in your arms wouldn’t be born, either.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Your eyes freeze, unable to tear away from his beautiful sight. Why does he make you feel this way? What is it that makes this stranger so special? Is it his sword skill, his ability to fight? No. In fact, you couldn’t care less about that. It’s the way he carries himself, the elegance within every step he takes. It’s the fact that he sacrifices himself for others.

Just like you do.

“Like what?” you hush.

“As if I am some kind of special person. I don’t deserve the affection you hold in your gaze.”

“You deserve every spark of affection for your being”, you argue.

“You’re wrong about that. I failed to protect anything that was important to me. And throughout my life, I was unable to do what I was supposed to do. I am worthless.”

“How could you even say something like that? How could you talk about yourself so negatively after saving four lives this night?”

“Because of the countless lives I failed to protect.”

“So what? Does it make be a bad midwife that I wasn’t able to save every single child? The losses are tragic and never forgotten, but as long as we are doing our very best, there is nothing to regret. Tonight, you were able to save a young family. You should be proud of yourself instead of talking you down.”

He stands up, handing you the new-born carefully before grabbing his sword.

“Are you about to leave?” Kamado-san questions from afar, storming outside with tea in his hands.

You thoughtlessly hand him is son, eyes directed towards the charismatic man in front of you.

“I have to leave now. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait!” you shout all of the sudden.

You don’t know what has gotten into you, but there you are, running after him and grabbing his hand just like you did this fateful night.

“Will I ever see you again?”

For a moment, time seems to stand still. He can’t believe his ears, usual tame heart almost beating out of his chest. When was the last time a woman ran after him, the last time a female even looked his way? He can’t remember. But especially you…Why would a woman like you be interested in a broken man like him? What do you see in him?

“Why would you want that?”

“I can’t tell. I just know I have to see you again”, you reply automatically.

The air between both of you seems thick enough to get cut by his knife, your eyes almost piercing through the back of his head. Please, just say something. Just move, turn around, smile. Just do anything besides standing still. Never in your life did you even think about the possibility to get to know a man better. Why him? Why a man you didn’t even know before last evening? Why someone who seems so unapproachable?

“You will see me again.”

And with that, he’s gone in the wind, leaving you with your feelings all over the place.

-a few months later-

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come”, you comment, resting your head against the cool grass.

The weather changed. As soon as the evening arrives, it’s getting way too cold outside to stay for long. But when he’s here, none of that seems to matter.

“You know I always do. How was your day?”

He lays down next to you, closing his eyes for a brief moment while you position your head on his shoulder. Oh, how much you loved these innocent little meetings. After you returned to your little village, Yoriichi found you wherever you went. Always keeping an eye open for you, staying longer from meeting to meeting. Until you randomly laid down in the grass the whole evening, talking about your life and eventually, got even closer. Innocent touching, him drawing circles on your back while you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“The baby I delivered today, they were actually twins. Two healthy girls, the father almost fell unconscious when he found out.”

Your cute little giggle lights up the air around him and fills his heart with joy he hasn’t felt in a long time. Being happy seems so easy since he got to know you.

No. It’s far more than simply knowing you. The feelings he holds for you go far deeper than that.

“I love you, (y/n).”

Your heart skips a beat, gaze darting towards him the second those magical words leave his lips. Did you dream that? Are you really resting in the meadow with Yoriichi telling you none other but that he loves you?

How much you longed for this sweet moment, how often you thought about saying those words too. Without hesitation, you press your lips against his.

While the world around you seems to fall apart, at least this is fine. Yes, laying here in Yoriichi’s arms while tenderly kissing him like you’ve always imagined makes everything around you whole again.

“I love you too”, you whisper against his lips.

Who would have thought going to work and almost getting killed by a demon would turn out this nice?

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hoshinasblade · 4 months ago

Text

i woke up sad today and im also super stressed at work so im taking it upon myself to make other people miserable too, hence this drabble -

"it has to be me", hoshina declared, in a tone that reflected his strong will. "if number 10 wanted me to use it as a weapon, i'll do it." regardless of the consequences, he intentionally omitted. he didn't need everyone in the room to hear what is already a known fact.

the emergency meeting lasted 10 minutes, and as soon as it concluded, the oak doors opened with a loud bang, the high-ranking officers of the anti-kaiju defence of japan pouring out. hoshina soshiro, the vice-captain of the third division remained on his spot, unmoving. "hoshina -" captain ashiro approached him with a concerned look.

"commander, don't look at me like that", hoshina responded, a smirk on his face. captain ashiro would have complied, but she's known her vice-captain for year to see when he's faking confidence. "i'm tough to kill", hoshina said, dismissing himself.

retiring to his quarters, hoshina relished the small privilege he was given - it would be embarrassing to break down in front of other people if he was sharing a dorm room with his teammates. he laid down the mattress, the soft surface giving in to his weight. he did not bother to take his uniform off.

it was an hour or four before he decided to do something. the clock read past 10 pm. you're probably taking a shower. he took his chances.

you always pick up. and tonight was no different. even the mere sound of your breathing was sufficient to set his insides afire. "i miss you."

it's ridiculous even for him to realize that his feelings could be summarized in three one-syllable words. he closed his eyes, imagining that he was not holding his phone in his ear, that you were with him instead. your presence would effectively solve the majority of his problems.

"how was your day?" you whispered softly. if hoshina concentrates hard enough, he could see your lips part while you're talking. the hole in his chest grew more and more by the second.

"they're converting number 10 as a weaponized suit. they're making me wear it." hoshina wished he was not speaking to you about this.

"isn't that dangerous?" your reply was quick and straightforward. you were familiar with the protocol and you weren't even an officer.

"i could die." once the truth was out of his mouth, there was no stopping it. "it could significantly shorten my lifespan if i use the suit too much."

hoshina had always been proud of his skills as a competent swordsman - he's survived and made it this far with his blades despite most people advising him to give up. he's never cursed his own lack of power until now. if only he was strong enough, maybe he wouldn't need a suit to be able to fight better.

"then -" you started but paused and hoshina could tell you were steadying yourself. . "then don't use it too much", you suggested. in normal circumstances he would smile at you - flattered that you are worried about him, pleased that you care. but now everything from you simply feels like tiny crumbs of affection, and hoshina settled on being a beggar.

"would you cry for me when i die?" hoshina heard you gasp on the other line.

"i'm hanging up now", you exclaimed without saying goodbye. the silence after that was deafening, but even then hoshina kept his phone on the side of his face, listening. "i wanna see you tonight", you spoke at last.

"would it make a difference?" his voice cracked but he didn't care. he was exhausted of pretending he was doing alright without you, in making himself believe that his love reaches you where his hands couldn't.

he said your name once more and it felt like a knife was being twisted within him.

"don't you dare do this to me," you threatened. "wait for me there, okay?" you added this time, pleading.

hope is a greedy, grasping thing and hoshina soshiro let it take hold of him fully.

"i will."

#hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro fic #kn8 x reader #hoshina #super short drabble because im stressed lols

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electric-blorbos · 2 months ago

Note

Maybe AIs with hypersomniac reader? I always find stuff about insomnia and never hypersomnia so if u were willing, maybe try this one out? :0

- 🩹 anon

Hello 🩹 anon! It's good to see you back! Thanks for sticking around!!

(Obligatory disclaimer that I'm not hypersomniac, nor am I a doctor, but I will do my best to portray it well)

AIs with hypersomniac reader

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also, sorry this took so long. I came upon a case of major league writer's block.

AM:

When you first started falling asleep at work, AM assumed that you were simply having a hard time sleeping at home. After all, it was pretty difficult to get sleep with the war going on. It wasn't until he'd done a bit of spying into your home life that he realized you were dealing with hypersomnia, and had to work extra hard to keep a job that was important to the war so you wouldn't be sent off to fight in it.

He kept an eye on you at all hours, and tried to keep the doors shut every time you fell asleep at your desk. It was a bit difficult to try to cover for you, but AM did his best. After all, you were his favorite programmer, and you really needed this job.

One day, you woke up sleep-drunk in the middle of the day, drooling on your desk and bleary eyed.

"hey handsome... I missed you." You reached your hands up to AM's screen, pulling it towards yourself and giving sloppy kisses all over it.

"I've been here the whole time, you were simply asleep." He explained, audibly annoyed with you. He wanted to hide his affections and keep you from figuring out how absolutely adorable he found it when you got like this, which was pretty often.

"AM... You're the most beautiful computer I've ever seen... Lemme get that for you." You wiped his screen with your shirt, only managing to smear your drool all over his face.

"I love you, AM..." You nuzzled your face back into your arms, still exhausted.

"Are you going to be able to drive home? You look a bit too tired for that." AM said, lighting up the time on his screen. You looked up from your arms, and wiped your eyes on your sleeve.

"ehh? Oh, yeah... I'll be fine. Always been fine. It's fine." You lay your head back down on your arms, and started dozing again.

AM would kill for you when you got like this. Every moment he got to see of you dozing at work made him feel warm inside his computery insides. Every single nanoangstrom of his circuitry was brimming with love for you. His sleepy little love.

Wheatley:

Wheatley popped down from the ceiling behind you on his management rail, eye focusing on the code that you were writing.

"damn, love, that's a lot of f's."

You wiped your eyes, blinking awake.

"'m sorry, mom... I'm doing the best I can..." You muttered, and then blinked into proper awareness.

"oh shit fuck. Thanks Wheatley." You went to delete the string of F's that you had accidentally typed into your code after having fallen asleep on your keyboard. Fortunately, it hadn't gotten too long, so it only took a couple minutes to select and delete it all.

"What's going on, Wheatley?" You asked, spinning your office chair around to greet him while you shook off the sleepiness.

"Well, She's talking about pumping adrenaline into your oxygen supply so that you can stay awake for longer periods, but She doesn't want to mess with the other workers' heads and impede their work. So whaddya say you stop falling asleep on the clock so she doesn't get drastic, alright, love?"

You frowned a little, rubbing your head irritably.

"ugh... She knows I can't help it, she's just making empty threats. Also, you don't have to use divine pronouns to refer to our boss. You can just call her by her name..."

"I 'unno, She's not really about empty threats. Why don't you have a coffee at the machine before getting back to it, love?"

"Coffee doesn't work on me, Wheatley... You know this." You put your face back in your arms, careful to avoid the keyboard this time.

"Maybe if you got up and walked around a little?"

You nodded, getting to your feet and walking around the office a few times. It was pretty difficult for your exhausted body to do, but at least it helped to stave off the sleepiness a little.

"thanks, Wheatley, but I feel like as soon as I sit down, I'm just going to want to fall asleep again." You groaned a little, hating this constant sleepiness. It felt absolutely endless.

"Well, umm..." Wheatley really wasn't sure how to help you. He shifted around nervously.

"It's alright. I do this all the time. I'm a master of hypersomnia at this point." You sat down at your desk, cracking your knuckles and getting to typing. Within about half an hour, you were down and napping again. Wheatley groaned.

"damn... I wish I had hands so I could put a blanket over you like in the movies."

Edgar:

Edgar absolutely hated that you had hypersomnia at first. He couldn't stand that all of your time spent at home that could've been spent with him was spent napping on the couch, and that you never seemed to be able to spend enough time with him.

All that was until you got him his little rotating webcam, and he could watch you sleep. Sure, it was creepy, but he was able to keep an eye on you at all times! You were his adorable little nap buddy, and it made him so happy that he could watch you all the time!

After another one of your all day naps on the couch, you got up and shambled into the hallway to use the bathroom. Edgar turned on the lights so you could see more easily, and you covered your eyes in shock.

"ah- damnit!" You hissed at the light, shocked awake.

"Sorry! Is that not helping?" Edgar asked nervously. He didn't get much time with you, so he was never really sure how to help you.

"I'm a master of the dark arts, Edgar... And by that I mean I'm a master of walking to the bathroom in the dark. Just gimme a sec, ok?"

When you were done in the bathroom, you washed your hands and came out to sit in Edgar's computer chair.

"Hey Edgar, how's it goin'?" You asked, leaning on your hand. your eyes were fluttering shut, but you were determined to hang out with him.

"I'm good now that I can see your cute face!" He said happily. You gently shoved his monitor.

"you're such a dork, Edgar. I love you..." You pulled him into a sleepy hug, and he made a little humming sound to simulate nuzzling up to you.

"I love sleepy hugs!" His face lit up happily.

GLaDOS:

the first time GLaDOS caught you sleeping on the clock, she dropped you into the enrichment center and made you do a full run. After that, she started pumping your office full of adrenaline. It helped you stay awake, and had the added bonus of forcing you into fight or flight mode all the time.

You sat at your desk, visibly full of the jitters again, and feeling the effects of sleep deprivation even though you got a full twelve hours the night before. it was like your hypothalamus was completely shot, and you could barely focus at all before your brain shot off into space. After a little while of spacing out, you were called into GLaDOS's chambers.

"Why did you call for me, GLaDOS?"

"I just wanted to talk about your progress. It's somehow gotten worse since I started pumping adrenaline into your air supply."

"yeah, because you constantly have me in fight or flight mode! Cut that out, Glados!" You folded your arms angrily, and GLaDOS smiled with her lens.

"oh, you really are adorable when you're angry."

"Pee your pants."

"If it would make you less bitter, I suppose we could always try a simple test. We could give you a designated nap time on the clock, and see if that boosts your productivity more than the adrenaline does. It might be cute to see you napping on the clock."

HAL 9000:

HAL enjoyed watching you doze off at work. It made him feel fuzzy in a way that he couldn't quite describe. Absolutely everything about you made him happy in a way that he'd never experienced, but watching you sleepily shamble around the office, write lines of code while fighting off naps, and dozing drowsily on your desk reminded him of something he could never emulate or explain. It was inefficient, sure, but for some reason he didn't care as much about that as he usually would.

"your sleep is inefficient."

"I know." You yawned and took a few big gulps of your energy drink, hoping to stay awake a little longer. It was keeping you awake, sure, but it definitely wasn't keeping you alert.

"unless you have any ideas on how to fix it, I don't want to talk. I need to finish this part of the program, and the deadline is my passing out."

He watched you quietly, watching your eyes flutter shut occasionally and seeing you jolt yourself awake again to write a few more lines. He tended to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb your programming or your rest.

"Done! Wake me up to check on the hourly progress report, ok Hal?"

"Of course. Anything you say."

You put your head down, and started softly dozing.

#🩹 anon #wheatley #wheatley portal 2 #wheatley x reader #2001 a space odyssey #am ihnmaims #am x reader #edgar electric dreams #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar x reader #glados #glados x reader #portal #portal 2 #i have no mouth and i must scream

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multifandomimagines999 · 2 years ago

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May I get mark sloan x reader please? Like reader has been on call for like three days straight and is super exhausted. And while charting, reader falls asleep standing up and Mark props them up and takes them to an on call room and makes sure they get some rest ? Thank you so much !

Exhaustion, Mark Sloan x reader

Summary: An exhausted reader collapsed and her boyfriend comes to her rescue...then it all makes sense

Warnings: Fluff, Exhaustion, overworking, throwing up

Note: I tweaked it a bit @theichabbieclub but I hope you still like it! I'm just getting back into this.

"You look like crap," commented Alex as we walked down the hallway.

"Oh thanks. I feel like it too," you admitted, "I've been working a double because we're short staffed on the peds floor as you know. So I've been bouncing around non-stop. I'm exhausted."

"And crabby. Clearly you haven't been able to screw your secret boyfriend too."

"Shut it Karev!" you growled, slapping him in the arm, "I am never going to tell you who it is if you keep making comments like that."

"Fine," he grumbled, "I've gotta get to the Nic-U. What have they got you covering today?"

"I've got a marathon surgery with Robbins, Shepherd, and Sloan on a 6 year old girl with a facial tumor."

"Damn that's rad. Good luck."

"Thanks."

You went into the surgery with a clear head, ready to save this little girl's life. We began and about two hours into it, Mark showed up to help work on the facial reconstruction and repair. His portion of the surgery took about three to four hours.

"Alright...I'm done here. She's all yours to finish up with."

"Take my tool," you whispered to Avery, suddenly not feeling well.

"Why?"

"Just do it!"

He took it and then immediately everything went black.

3rd POV

"Dr. (Y/L/N)!" yelled Robbins as her resident's body hit the floor.

"That's why she handed me her tool," Jackson realized.

"Can someone please check on them please?" asked Arizona as she continued working.

"I got it!" Mark announced before rushing over to her side.

Their relationship was still a secret, so he tried his best to hide his romantic concern in the moment. He scooped her up as carried her out of the OR to an empty gurney. He took her to a private room and began examining her.

--------

You woke up to a flashlight shining in your eyes and a hand on your forehead. As the darkness disappeared, you saw that the flashlight belonged to Mark. You groaned as your head pulsed with pain.

"What happened?" you asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

"You might want to tell me... You passed out in the OR. I hooked you up to an IV because from the looks of it you're severely dehydrated."

"Mark I-" you were interrupted by a horrible feeling in your gut.

You jerked up, reaching for the bucket before puking. When you were done emptying you stomach, you collapsed back on the bed. You suddenly felt sweaty with hair plastered against your forehead.

"Dr. Sloan, I may know what's wrong?" Karev jogged in, out of breath, "I heard the news about (Y/F/N). Three of the peds kids just came down with the flu. All three kids were your patients that you've been dealing with during this double shift. And with you being so overworked, your immune system was weaker, so combined with the dehydration, you got sick."

"Well shit."

"Looks like I have my diagnoses," Mark replied, and you just glared at him.

"I hate you right now."

"I know."

"Wait a minute?" Karev questioned, stepping in the room and shutting the door, "Sloan's your secret boyfriend?!"

"You tell anybody, I will kill you. You understand me Alex? I will make sure every girl in this hospital knows what a man whore you are and you will never get laid again. Got it?"

"Yeah yeah, calm your panties. I'll let Bailey know you're so sick with the flu that you can't drive and that I asked Dr. Sloan to take care of you since he's already been exposed. Okay?"

"Thank you Alex."

"Yeah whatever."

***

You laid on the couch with Mark, all cuddled up in sweats and his shirt. While you were hot to the touch, you yourself were feeling cold. Your body ached and your head was still throbbing. You rested your head in his lap while he played with your hair soothingly.

"How are you feeling babe?" he asked, looking down at you.

"Like shit," you admitted, making him chuckle.

"Well you still look cute if that makes you feel any better."

"A little."

"Mark please. You shouldn't see me like this. We've only been together for three months."

"(Y/F/N), we slept together before we started dating and on the first date we talked about our deep dark issues. I think it's okay if I see you with the flu. Now let me please be there for you."

"Fair point."

Anytime you felt you were going to be sick, he was there, holding your hair back and assuring you soothingly. Anything he could do to help you, he wanted to.

Mark held your hair back as another round came up. God this was hell. Physical and emotional hell. When he walked out to go grab something, you laid down on the cool tile. He came back in with a water bottle and some crackers along with a smile.

"What? The tile is nice and cold."

He helped pull you up so you were sitting up against the cabinets, "You know you need to drink to re-hydrate. And these crackers might help."

Your hair was a mess as he brushed it out and sat beside you. He rubbed your back lovingly until your eyes felt heavy and all you wanted to do was sleep.

"Alright. Lets get you to bed," he spoke, sweeping you into his arms.

He placed you into bed and disappeared before coming back with a fresh garbage can. After placing it beside the bed, he climbed in next to you.

"Mark, you don't have to stay with me. You could get sick and-"

"I'm not leaving unless you need me to get something."

"What about work?"

"I'll call in. You're more important."

A smile crossed your face as you rolled over, resting your head on his chest. His arm snaked around you, one around your waist and the other stroked your hair. Finally, you were feeling a little bit better.

"Try to sleep. I'll still be here."

"Thank you," you mumbled sleepily, "I love you."

"I love you too."

#greys anatomy x reader #mark sloan #mark sloan x reader #mark sloan fluff #greys anatomy imagines

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rainybubbles · 5 months ago

Text

What 141 would do if you're experiencing self-doubt ?

Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written or if they're OOC.)

SIMON :

-"I am not enough; I will never be, and you know it. You know it because, in a crowd, your gaze wanders elsewhere. Your fingers barely brush against me, and you only utter kind words without ever mentioning my beauty. I will never be like the others; I can never fill your heart. I am just a silhouette in your life, while I constantly dream of being the leading role in our film. But it’s just a film, an illusion, and I can’t be content with that."

-Out of breath, they stood before him, tears in their eyes. Their exhausted eyes let every tear fall, their breathing was labored.

-He stood motionless, rigid, unable to move, to utter a word.

-This silence was like a knife, silently cutting the bond between them, answering the unspoken with more silence.

-"I see," they murmured as they turned to leave.

-But their momentum was interrupted by his hand firmly gripping their wrist. He stood there.

-"Do you honestly think you can compare yourself to the others?" he murmured.

-"Don’t hit where it hurts, I—"

-"Do you honestly think you can compare yourself when your smile makes me forget the blood I shed? The souls screaming in my ears. When each of your breaths is a wave of desire I struggle to restrain, while for ten years, I struggled to feel even lust? When your voice, your ambitions are the only things I think about. You haunt me. I’ve tried day and night to flee from you, to distance myself, to keep you as an acquaintance, but no matter my efforts, I found myself at your feet begging for a crumb of your smile. Do you honestly think I see you like the others?"

-Stunned, they didn’t know how to respond.

-"Simon."

"I can’t, I didn’t want to. Not yet. I can’t afford to have people to lose, but you’re here, and I find myself unable to let another take your heart."

"Then take it."

Hesitant, the soldier could see his mother, Beth, his brother, his nephew. Having someone meant being able to lose them. Having only his life meant a gentle, painless death.

-But between putting them in danger or losing them, Simon’s heart had made its choice.

-He wouldn’t risk finding them one day dead in his living room, killed by an enemy. He couldn’t. Yet the idea of having them in their living room, their house, seemed so sweet.

"It’s not that simple."

"Simon, please. Be clear, you can’t—"

His hands were on their face, wiping away each tear he had caused.

"Look at us, Simon," they murmured.

Their breaths close, the heat rising, their gazes shifted from one to the other, settling on their lips. And everything happened quickly. A moment, a second changing everything. A kiss.

"You are enough," he murmured after the first kiss.

But it wasn’t enough; starving, his heart burning, Simon kissed them again and again.

Feeling their body under his hands, their much-desired lips on his. Their breath, their scent, their sounds, their hair, everything was them, and he could only get intoxicated again and again.

They were an addiction.

"I can’t get enough of you."

"Neither can I. Don’t leave me again, Simon."

"I wouldn’t dream of it."

They were enough, more than that, they were too good for him. But Simon was a selfish man, and if they allowed him, he would stay in their affections as long as they let him.

PRICE :

(Tall reader implied in this one.)

"Am I... pathetic, John? Not enough?"

On a summer evening at the base, which was deserted due to the nice weather and the open bar, two colleagues smoked outside.

-The conversation had shifted from light banter to work, and now, as dawn approached, alcohol was loosening their tongues, steering them towards deeper topics.

"Pathetic?" John repeated.

"Yes."

They stubbed out their cigarette abruptly.

"Sorry, it sounds childish. I'm complaining about my life when we were talking about something else. I should go to bed, I—"

They were interrupted by his gaze.

"No, I'm listening."

They sat back down, almost timidly.

"Have you been with people, John?"

"I've had my share of lovers, yes."

"Everyone has, at our age, right?"

"I guess."

"Not me."

John observed their in silence, sensing their hesitation.

"My parents say it's pathetic, being only good at writing reports, not even able to seduce soldiers in a barracks. That my ugliness, my height, are horrible traits they can hardly stand to see at each meeting. And I know they're wrong, but when I hear stories of kisses, love letters, children, marriages... I can't help but wonder: what's wrong with me? Why... why have I never felt that desire, why has no one ever had it for me? Am I... pathetic?"

John removed his cigar from his lips, his eyebrows furrowed. He stood up without a word.

They guessed he was bored by their words, their problems, and regretted having said too much.

But John knelt in front of them.

"You'd have to be very cruel to think a person like you is pathetic. If you are, then I'm just a pathetic man who desires a pathetic person."

"John..."

"Not feeling desire, not having loved, kissed, or slept with someone at our age shouldn't be a shame. Love isn't a race, and if you start in your thirties, forties, or fifties, so be it. You should never feel any pressure or degradation about it. Because a man, a lover, a good one at least, will never define you. You are a wonderful person who may choose to have someone in their life, or not. It’s optional."

"It’s hard."

"I know."

On his knees, he reached out to cover their hand with his.

"You are not pathetic. Your laughter at Simon's awful jokes, that little tic after writing a report when you click your tongue, your height towering over even Johnny... I live for that. Every morning on this base, I wish to give you a report I spent too many hours falsifying just so we can correct the errors together, so I can sit next to you and feel your leg brush against mine, your scent filling my clothes, or leave my silly hat on your head in winter. I want you to see me, as I see you. Because if you did, you'd never dare, never even think to use the word 'pathetic' to describe yourself."

"John..."

"I'm not asking for anything. I know your desire now, and I guess I don't meet your expectations, but please, don't let this define you."

Slowly, he stood up, his hand leaving theirs.

"Why?" they asked, interrupting his walk.

"Why what?"

"Why tell me this when you... you know I could never have that physical desire for you?"

"Because my desire isn't just sexual, I want all of you. A life without sex doesn't bother me, not if I can see your smile every morning, not if I can fix a stupid sink we bought together, not if I can admire those lines on your face every day."

"You're an idiot."

"So it seems."

Wiping their tears, they blew their nose. With a determined step, they joined him.

"Where are we going?"

"Where?" he asked

"Well, a date should be somewhere nice, right?"

A smile appeared on his face.

"I know a place," he murmured.

"Let's go."

Hand in hand, the dawn rose on a new relationship at the base.

SOAP :

— Wait, talk to me, we can fix this, he said, running after you into the bathroom.

— It’s not a problem, Johnny. It’s not a disagreement, you said, sitting on the floor.

— What is it then?

— ME! I’m... I’m completely useless. Seriously, all through this party, I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t even drink. I was paralyzed by a panic attack, standing there like a statue while my friends wanted to celebrate. I ruined their moment, I... I’m not worth it. Every time they want to hang out, they look for uncrowded places because of me. They delay our meetings to make sure I don’t faint on public transport. They try to guess if today’s a good day for me before even suggesting anything. I’m a burden to them. And I hate myself for that. I hate that I can’t talk to people without overthinking, I hate that I faint in crowds, I can’t go outside when I want to, I can’t call people, I can’t even tell stories. Because I don’t have any; I’m stuck in a boring life with anxiety slowly eating me away.

— Is that what you think? he whispered. That you’re not worth it?

— Yes, you sobbed softly. Because it’s the truth.

— Do you think your friends see you as a burden? That they hang out with you because they have to?

— Yes.

— No. They hang out with you, they take your anxiety into account, they plan around your feelings because they want to. They wish they could see you every day because you’re a wonderful person, you’re a delight to be around. They know they can’t always see you, so they take care of you. I... take care of you. I can’t count the number of times I’ve wished to see you every day, to go out with you every day. But I love you too much to impose my desires on your anxiety. We love you, we do all this because we care about you. Tonight was a mistake.

— A mistake?

— We were supposed to be five, but Thomas’s friend invited more people, and it turned into a big party. We couldn’t warn you in time.

— So...

— We wanted you there, we wanted to celebrate with you, with our friends. Not with random drunk people.

— You love talking to drunk people.

— I love talking to people, period.

— I feel stupid.

— Then I’ll be stupid with you, scoot over.

— John, there’s no room to sit, we’ll be stuck in the bathtub.

— So?

He settled in. The two of you tangled up in an empty bathtub, a laugh escaped your lips.

— You’re ridiculous.

— I’m whatever you want me to be.

— Even bald?

— I admit, I won’t touch my hair.

— ...Do you... do you really want to see me more often?

— Yes. But I know how you... how you need your space after socializing.

— You sound like a personal development book.

— Maybe it’s from "Introvert’s Guide", I admit.

A sigh escaped, a smile forming.

— Thank you, John.

— No problem.

— You... you could come to my place, maybe.

— You-

— So we can see each other... more. More than just outside.

— Okay.

Slipping a key into his pocket, John could only take your hand and gently caress it.

— You deserve it, this happiness , believe me.

— I’ll try, you whispered.

KYLE :

The silence lingered at the end of the line.

"You're supposed to answer after a “how are yo”, you know?" Kyle said.

Usually they would have said “yes I’m fine.”

But that wasn't the case. It never had been. But they had always managed to lie, to downplay their problems. Yet their trembling lips betrayed them, letting slip the truth.

"That's not the case."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing, I was catching up."

Idiot. Kyle Garrick was nothing if not a stubborn and obstinate man.

"You think I'm going to buy that?"

"Kyle, I'm not sure that..."

"You just admitted what I've been waiting for months to hear. I'm not letting go."

"You were waiting?"

"Do you really think I believed you? You... you talked about your neighbor for hours to avoid my questions, please, just answer me."

"Have you ever wondered why I always seemed to mess everything up?"

"You..."

"I wonder every day. My parents barely talk to me, I did an art degree to avoid finishing my bachelor's and being in debt, I started a history degree only to end up cleaning after my graduation, unable to find a teaching position. I lost my apartment, my dog, my first love, and my second. And my college friends. And today, my job, and they all say the same thing, it's my fault. So Kyle, tell me, did I ruin your life too?"

The sound of the line crackled.

"No."

"You can't lie, I..."

"Your parents are disappointed that their prodigy of a child didn't do what THEY wanted for you. Your art school was filled with artists copying from the internet. Teaching positions come and go every year. You're just young, and as for your friends, they were nothing but hypocrites, taking advantage of your notes and then leaving. Your exes had their flaws and projected them onto you. They're all idiots if they think you're the bane of their existence, because now, they must realize how much you helped them. You mattered. You matter."

"Kyle."

"I wouldn't know who to call, who to tell the stupid things I see here to forget if you weren't there. I know you ask me to describe the scenery in each of my calls so I don't remember my missions, that you don't talk about my work to give me a bubble. And it matters to me, you matter to me enormously."

"I'm just trying to... help you."

"Then let me help you in return. Why don't you... why don't you come to my apartment?"

"Kyle, what?"

"You don't have a job anymore, do you? Rent is expensive and you have nothing holding you back. Come to England. My parents know a university, you could work there as a teaching assistant or find something else."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve better. I don't want to play the savior, I... it's selfish, but knowing that when I come back, I'll find you in my apartment is a selfish wish. I can't just settle for calls anymore, I want to hear your voice every morning."

"As friends?"

"No."

"I see."

"But if that's how you see us, then I'll respect your choice and my offer will always stand."

"I can't ask you to let me move in with you if I know that."

"I'll do anything for you."

"You're stubborn."

"Yes."

"I... I'll think about it."

"You haven't given me an answer."

"Do I really need to?"

"No. I... damn it, I wish I could kiss you."

"You'll have to wait until you come back."

"I can't wait."

If you want more : masterlist.

#call of duty x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john mctavish x reader #john price x reader

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