#its like.. drop the act. acknowledge that you want something for yourself so badly that youd hurt the person you love most | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bangtanloverboys · 4 years ago

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kitten fever // myg

summary - min yoongi wants to be a daddy, but not in the way that you quite expect

pairing - cat hybrid!yoongi x gender neutral!reader

genre - fluff; hybrid au, established relationship au

word count - 7.5k

warning - yoongi being an absolute softie, hinted hybrid discrimination, YOONGI WITH A KITTY, yoongi and yn being domestic, KITTENS, overwhelming love for kittens, yoongi calling himself daddy

author’s note - this is for the bts ghostie dynamite dads event “new dad yoongi”, but make it new cat dad. i snuggled my kitties a lot writing this bc i love them and they are my inspiration for this. anything cat related on my blog is inspired by my own cats, enjoy. i may post a baby photo of one of them bc that’s how i imagine the kitty in this

2:54 am read the small digital clock in the corner of the room. Yoongi couldn’t sleep. He turned his head over to you, still curled up into his side. Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he gently peeled your arm off of him and got out of bed. You let out a soft whine at the loss of his warmth, patting the empty space in a sleepy attempt to find him. He shook his head and chuckled at you, placing another kiss to your head and made his way over to the desk. Seating himself in the wheelie chair, he opened the laptop and typed away into the search bar.

‘Newborn Kittens’.

He honestly wasn’t sure what was going through his head, but he was feeling something deep down inside. The feeling started sometime a little after you had adopted him and it had only grown stronger when the two of you had gotten together. Originally he thought that was the feeling, the need to be with you. You were his mate and you were it for him; he loved you with every little fiber in his being. But there was still something missing in Yoongi’s heart, and that is what it was.

He really wanted to be a dad.

Not for like human babies though, no. He didn’t think that either of you were ready for that yet, not for a while. But he really wanted to care and love for something as his own, which has slowly led him down the rabbit hole of kitten videos. Volume set to low, he played videos and listened to the small innocent newborns cry and whine at the new world they were in. The cries resonated deep in Yoongi’s heart. He wanted to care for, guide, and love on a kitten so badly. The only thing is he had to convince you about it.

After about an hour of him watching and holding back tears over the newborns, he let out a yawn. He exited the tab and cleared the browsing history, an extra precaution he’d taken to make sure you accidentally stumble across it. He didn’t know why he was so nervous about asking you, maybe it’s cause you never talked about having another pet or an actual animal? He vaguely remembered you mentioning the reason you got a hybrid in the first place. You wanted someone to talk to and to keep you in check, which Yoongi thought he did a pretty good job of. You were a bit of an idiot sometimes, but you were his idiot now. His idiot that he had no idea how to tell he wanted to have a baby kitten.

He quietly tiptoed back over to the bed and carefully slotted himself to lay next to you, once again. You sleepily register the bed dipping next to you, turning over and wrapping your arms back around him; holding him even tighter so he can’t leave you again. He let out a low chuckle at your action, letting you mold yourself against him. With another kiss to the top of your head, Yoongi let his eyes slowly fall shut. Dreaming of the kittens he wanted so badly.

You woke up earlier than Yoongi the following morning, which was strange, seeing how normally he’s the first to rise. As of lately though, he’s been sleeping in more. You didn’t mind, the past few times he slept in, he had the warmest smile on his face. It was so blissful and it always pulled at your heartstrings to see him look so soft. But whenever he woke up, he acted distant. Like he was holding his breath around you. You don’t know what led him to start acting like this, you tried talking to him about it, you really did. Everytime you brought it up, he acted like it was nothing and dismissed the issue or said he was in a funk. So you’ve taken a back seat, waiting for him to either truly tell you what’s going on or for him to pull himself out of his self-proclaimed funk. With a small sigh passing your lips, you kissed his cheek and gave one of his little ears a scratch, you pulled yourself out of bed to get started on your morning routine.

With a yawn, you padded down the hallway of your small apartment towards the kitchen. Glancing at the calendar pinned to the fridge, you let out a low groan. Today, you had a lot of paperwork that you could thankfully do at home, but that didn’t help the fact you just wanted a lazy day to cuddle with your boyfriend. But you have work to do, then you can cuddle Yoongi to your heart's content. Quickly, you fashioned a breakfast milkshake; consisting of your last banana, an egg, milk, and some chocolate sauce. The roar of the blender must’ve woken up Yoongi, as soon as you turned it off, you heard his heavy footsteps get closer and closer. You don’t turn to look behind you as two arms and a tail wrap around your waist.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You smiled as he buried his head into your neck.

“Morning,” he grumbled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

You stop from finishing your shake to lean into him, nuzzling your cheek against his messy dark hair. “You sleep alright? I thought I felt you get up in the middle of the night.”

“I’m good, just. . . had trouble sleeping last night,” You felt him shift behind you, readjusting himself so his chin is now resting on your shoulder, watching you finish making your shake, “decided to have a wikipedia deep dive to try and bore myself to sleep.”

“Aw, I’m glad you were able to get some sleep though.” You said as you pulled out a metal straw from your utensil drawer into your finished banana-chocolate milkshake. However, Yoongi doesn’t loosen his grip on you. Carefully, you manage to twist yourself around in his arms to look at him. His face is still puffy from sleep, his eyes are blinking lazily as you give him a chaste kiss. “Sleepy kitty.” Upon saying that phrase, you felt Yoongi’s arms stiffen around you. It was only for a moment, then he relaxed and nuzzled his nose to brush against your cheek before letting his arms slip from around you. You don’t let the way Yoongi tensed up at your words, but elect not to bring it up. It’s too early.

“What do you have planned for today?” Yoongi asked, stifling a yawn as he went to make himself some coffee.

“Just paperwork,” you huffed as you siphoned through the utensils to find your precious metal straw. “You got anything? Besides taking a cat nap.” You smiled as you took a sip of your shake.

Yoongi shook his head as he concentrated on his coffee making task, “I got nothing.”

“Maybe when I’m done, we can watch a movie?” You suggested, as you leaned against the countertop.

“Mm, sounds good.” He responded as he mixed in his coffee creamer. Satisfied with his stirring, he turned back to face you. “There’s a few things I’ve found that I think you might like”, he said as he brought the mug to his lips.

The small conversation fell and the two of you got started on your routines. You handed Yoongi your glass for him to clean then went to your bathroom to start the day. You couldn’t get over how he froze around you at the little nickname you bestowed on him. Sleepy kitty. Did he not like that? He never had any objections to your pet names previous to this. You couldn’t just chalk it up to it being one of his ‘moods’ because this was a constant thing now. You needed to talk to him, maybe before the movie.

Yoongi on the other hand, felt like banging his head into a wall. How could he be so stupid to have such a blatant reaction to the pet name?! He supposes it has everything to do with the dream he had after he had finally fallen asleep after an hour long cat video binge at such an ungodly hour. He had dreamt of a small tabby kitten, probably no more than 4 weeks old. It was snuggling into his shoulder while he slept, swiping at his tail while he sat and worked, nibbling on his ears- God even just reminiscing about the dream had his heart aching again.

Shaking his head, tried to push past the consuming thoughts of kittens, refusing to give into his instincts. He focused all his energy into cleaning the dishes; totally not imagining the small cup he was washing as a small kitten, scrubbing it delicately and making sure not to go too hard on it’s small fragile head-

Yoongi dropped the cup in the sink, the plastic banging against the other dishes ringing in his ears as he held his head. He was going to lose it, he knows it. To his concern there’s only one solution to this issue: get a kitten and take care of it. Digging the heels of his palm into his eyes, he let out a deep sigh. There was no other choice he had, he had to talk to you about his kitten fever.

Finishing up the last of what was in the sink, he dried off his hands and made his way back over to the room. You had already gotten to work, judging by how you barely acknowledged him as he walked in. Walking over to the bed, Yoongi stretched himself over the messed up covers. This was how the two of you did spend most of your days when you were allowed to work from home; with him laying down and watching you work. Resting his cheek on his folded arms, Yoongi kept his eyes on you. Trying his damndest not to let his mind wander from you and to imagining you working with a small kitten on your lap. Your hand caressing its small body while it meows loudly at you as you play with it- He let out a groan, burying his face in his arms to try and escape the mental image he created.

Hearing him, you turn in your chair to face him, “Yoongi, are you okay?”

Peeking from behind his elbows, concern is written all over your face. He shut his eyes and sat up, “Y/N. . . Can I talk to you?” Your brows furrowed together, a look of panic dashes through your eyes as you nod. Taking a deep breath, he stood up from where he sat and walked over to your desk, leaning against it. “I-,” he started, “I want kittens.”

His admission out in the air, he closed his eyes, fearing your reaction. But no sound of rejection came from you. Opening one eye to peep at you, you were confused. Yoongi could also see the gears turning in your head as you thought of something, anything to respond to him.

“Yoongi, I-I don’t think we’re-”

“Not like that!” He stopped you, seeing how you didn’t quite understand what he was talking about. “I mean like, actual kittens. . . Cats. . .” He explained.

Your mouth parted, “Oooh.” The dots connected, Yoongi’s sudden mood changes started to make sense; especially this morning’s when you called him kitty. All this because he wanted to father kittens? “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you wanted kittens, Yoongi?” You questioned.

Bashfully, he looked to his feet, “I don’t know. . . Since we got together, I suppose?”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline, “That long?! Why haven’t you told me, baby?” You went to grab his hands, holding them in yours.

“You never said anything about wanting kids, animal or not so I just. . . didn’t say anything.” He responded, keeping his eyes on your interlocked hands.

“Yoongi, look at me.” He raised his head to meet your gaze, “Human babies I never really thought much on, but kittens? I love kittens so much, of course I’d want to have them with you.”

“Really?” He felt like his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets “You mean it? I can-We can get a kitten? A baby?” Yoongi couldn’t believe his ears; his vision started to blur as tears welled up in them. The blurry outline of you nodded as you stood, pulling him into a hug as the happy tears fell from his face.

You cooed at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his face burying itself in your neck. “Aww, we can definitely get a kitten. I think having one might be a wonderful little addition to our family, don’t you think?” Yoongi only cried harder in response. You stroked the hairs at the back of his neck, soothing him from his happy tears. “I’ll take that as a yes, I’ll get all my work done today and tomorrow we can go to a shelter and adopt. Okay?” With a nod of his head and a couple sniffles, he pulled away from the hug. You moved your hand to lay it on his cheek, wiping away the remaining tears from his cheeks. “Let me finish this up okay? You do research on some kitten supplies and shelters nearby?”

With that, Yoongi immediately got to work on researching products (within your established budget) and found a shelter a few blocks away from your apartment building. You thanked whatever deity that was watching over you that allowed your apartment to put in a notice for a new pet so last minute. Normally you’d have no qualms about waiting a few days, but the way Yoongi had been keeping this to himself, you didn’t want him to wait any longer. He deserved to be a proud father of a little fur baby.

All night long, you could feel Yoongi’s excitement radiate from him as he tossed and turned in the bed all night. You could hear him even giggle to himself, whispering how he’s going to be a dad. The words squeezed your heart as you turned to wrap your arms around him, partially to keep him still but also because you were happy that he was so happy about this step for the both of you. Maybe him a little more than you though.

You woke up to an empty bed, you patted around Yoongi’s side, noting it was cold. You were puzzled for a moment, wondering where he might be when the smell of bacon flooded your nose. You let out a light chuckle as you got out of bed, and shuffled down the hallway to see Yoongi in the kitchen, buzzing as he cooked breakfast. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d mistake you for a dog hybrid for being this excited.” You chuckled as you sat down at the table. He narrowed his eyes at you before returning to cooking. Normally Yoongi never went all out with breakfast unless it was a special occasion, you suppose that today might as well be a special occasion, it being the day he finally gets to become a dad. “Did you get any sleep?” You asked as he put some bacon and toast on a couple plates.

“Enough,” he answered, placing a plate in front of you on the table. You rolled your eyes at his response, you should’ve figured he didn’t get much; but at least he got some of it. “Gotta get used to not sleeping all throughout the night.”

“Yoongi, it’s a kitten. Not an actual baby.” You chortled as you took a bite of bacon, “It’s not gonna wake us up in the middle of the night crying.”

“Yeah, but kittens in a new environment often are excited and don’t sleep much the first night or so.” He responded as he sat down in front of you, “While I’m not a full cat, you should remember how restless I was when you first got me.”

You do remember. He stayed up all night the first few days, getting a feel of your apartment; sniffing around and making some noise, but after that he started to settle in and get comfortable in his new home. “Yes, but cats don’t whine every few hours to be fed.”

“Touche,” he bowed his head in defeat before going to take a bite out of his toast.

You watched him as he ate, nibbling a bit on your breakfast as you did. As you continued to eat, you noticed he was getting more and more fidgety. Figuring how he wasn’t very upfront with you about getting a kitten, he was waiting on your word to get ready to find a shelter. You smirked a bit as you took a few more bites of your toast before pushing your plate away. “Alright, ready to go?” Before you even finished, Yoongi jumped from his seat and kissed your cheek. You barked out a laugh as your hybrid dashed down the hallways towards the bedroom in a blur of black and white.

Deciding to take it upon yourself, you cleared the table, seeing how Yoongi was too excited to focus on anything else. You shook your head as you picked up his abandoned breakfast on the table; if he was too excited to sleep, you should’ve figured he’d be too excited to eat. Better make sure the second that kitten crosses the threshold of your apartment that you feed him before he forgets completely to eat. As you finished up in the kitchen, said hybrid came back, “What are you doing?! Why aren’t you getting dressed?!” He exasperated at you, still dressed in pajamas, while he was all nicely dressed.

“I’m sorry that I want to make a nice impression on the newcomer, when they arrive.” You chuckled as you walked up to him, ruffling his hair. “I’ll get dressed. You finish up here.” In a flash, he was at the sink, furiously scrubbing the pans and plates. You laughed at him again, you wonder how he’s going to react when you tell him that you’re not even gonna stop at the shelter first, seeing how you should get the products first before the kitten steps it’s paws in the apartment. No matter how eager Yoongi was, you needed a litter box first. Kitten second.

Once you’re dressed and down the hall, your overly eager feline partner was frantically checking himself in the hallway mirror. Letting out a chuckle as he made his hair and ears look as neat as possible. You held up your keys, the jingling catching his attention, he beamed as you moved to put your shoes on and get out of the door.

“What kind should we get? I looked at some of the ones at the shelter and there’s this pretty ragdoll, she’s all white and fluffy- Ooh! There’s this siamese kitten that just had the most beautiful eyes-”

“Yoongi,” you cut off his rambling as you approached your car. “I love you, I really do and I’m excited that you’re excited. But don’t overthink it, let’s just go to the shelter first and see who speaks out to you more. Okay?”

You watched as he bashfully scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.” He chuckled nervously.

“Don’t apologize, baby. Now come on, we gotta get going.” You hopped in the car, Yoongi followed behind you, climbing into the backseat. The two of you sit in silence as you drive off, your hybrid humming happily as he stared out the window. It’s only when you pull up to the pet store does Yoongi let out a low groan.

“This isn’t the shelter!”

You grabbed his hand as he pouted his lips at you, “I know. But we need litter, food, and toys. I don’t want to forget that on the way home.” You pressed a kiss to his knuckles as he dropped his pout.

“Fine,” he sighed as he unbuckled and got out, clearly unhappy with the decision, but realizing it was the right one either way.

“You’re acting more like a moody teen than a father to be, you sure you’re ready?” You raised a brow at him, which quickly had him standing up straighter.

“Yes, I am.” He gave a firm nod as he spoke, “Now come on, the fast we get the supplies, the faster we can get the baby.” He took your hand in his and led you into the store.

You let Yoongi take the lead pushing the cart through the aisles as you searched for the supplies you needed. You could feel stares from other customers as Yoongi was looking at the different types of kitten litter and which one would be best. You felt like they were judging you for bringing your hybrid to the pet store, like you were going to make him actually use the items that were meant for his animal counterpart.

“Can I help you with anything?” You both turned your head to see a young woman in a blue vest standing there, a confused expression on her face.

“Actually yes, what brand of litter would you recommend? I’ve read all the reviews but, I’m curious about your opinion?” Yoongi rambled off as he stood, walking to get closer to the employee. “We’re going to adopt a kitten later today and this is both of our first times owning a cat.”

“Oh!” The employee's eyes widened and nodded, now understanding the situation instead of assuming the worst. “Well what age are you looking to adopt?”

“Not sure, I was thinking maybe four to six weeks?” He said as the worker’s eyes examined the wall of litter in front of her.

“Hmm,” she stepped down and pulled out a medium sized pink box. “This brand is what I’ve seen the best reviews on, anyone with a kitten seems to like it before going on to other litter.” She handed it over to Yoongi, who was bowing his head as he accepted the box.

“Thank you very much!” He replied, gracious for the help.

“No problem, anything else I can help you with?” She responded with a grin of her own as she looked between the two of you.

Yoongi glanced over his shoulder to you, waiting to see if you needed anything at all. You shook your head, “No. Thank you for the offer though, I think we got it.”

Yoongi thanked the employee again before turning to put the box of litter in the cart. “Got litter, got the litter box, food, what else?”

“Toys and a collar?” You noticed that was something lacking from your growing collection of cat necessities. Looking up to Yoongi, you see him with his lips pursed in thought as he stared down into the cart. “Something wrong with that?”

“Toys no,” he said, moving to push the cart forward towards the cat toy aisle. “Collar, I don’t know. I mean, it’s going to be indoors anyways. Does it even really need it?”

He did have a point, a collar was to ensure that if it got lost you’ll be contacted as soon as it’s found. But considering how it is going to be inside all the time, and with Yoongi always around too, did you really need it? “You’re right, but we don’t know. Why don’t we skip the collar today, and get it when we know for sure. Does that sound good?”

You followed close behind him as he turned into the next aisle, thinking of what you said. “Yeah, sounds good. Just don’t want to make any unnecessary purchases.” You stopped in front of a small wall of colorful toys and stretching posts. Your eyes shifted towards him as he closely examined each and every toy in front of him. “There a limit on how many toys we can get?”

“Let’s start with three,” you laughed lightly as you moved to stand beside him, looking over the different options. “We do need a scratching post, so let’s get this one,” you move to grab a long cardboard scratcher and put it in the cart, “because we don’t need the little baby scratching up the furniture.”

“No we do not,” Yoongi returned with a chuckle, reaching out to grab a small pack of toys in the shape of mice. “These look fun.”

“What are you gonna play with it too?” You elbowed him gently as he tossed them into the wagon.

“I just might.” He teased as his attention went back to the wall of toys, he reached forward and grabbed a small plush octopus. He gave it a little shake and it chimed, his eyes immediately lit right up and placed it right next to the other toys.

“I’m beginning to think those toys are for you more than the kitten,” you joked as Yoongi moved to push the cart out of the aisle and towards check out. He scrunched his nose up at you but didn’t deny your statement.

Once at the check out, Yoongi put all the items up on the conveyor belt while you went up to the cashier, who was eyeing Yoongi carefully as he checked out each item.Not liking the way he was looking at your hybrid, you cleared your throat, directing his attention back to you. You knew there was still some judgement towards hybrids being out and about in public, but that shouldn’t matter because he was with you. His owner.

“Did you find everything alright?” The cashier huffed as he bagged your items, going over the register to double check that he scanned everything.

“Yup!” You gave him a tight smile, not wanting him to give away your displeasure at his behavior. You just wanted out of this pet store now. Yoongi, on the other hand, must’ve sensed your uneasiness and in an instant he stood right next to you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Letting out a shaking breath, you returned his squeeze before finishing up your purchase. It certainly was a small hit to your bank account but this was worth it, it was for Yoongi.

You both gave a quick thank you to the worker before you made your leave, cart full of brand new kitten supplies. As you were loading up the car, Yoongi placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like those eyes on us, on you.” You muttered as you shut the trunk closed.

“Y/N look at me,” he placed his hand on your cheek. “It’s alright, I can deal with a couple of staring strangers. But you’re with me that’s all that matters.” He smiled as his thumb caressed your cheek.

You stood there for a moment, letting him sooth your anxieties before you pulled away. “Okay, now let’s go get that kitten. No sadness today, this is supposed to be a happy time.” Soon as the words left your mouth, Yoongi’s entire demeanor shifted; going from a caring partner, to an excited child with only a few words.

“Right! Let’s go!!” With that, Yoongi gave you a chaste kiss before jumping into the passenger side door.

The drive to the shelter wasn’t that long, and Yoongi was bouncing up and down in his seat like a child on his way to Toys R Us. It was cute though, seeing him this excited. You don’t think you’ve seen him this giddy; you’ve seen him happy of course, but not this kind of emotion. It looked good on him, you hoped he manages to keep it going as the kitten grows old.

“We’re here!!” Yoongi announced ecstatically as you pulled up in the parking lot. The hybrid waited patiently as he could as you got out of the car, his eyes locked on the door of the small building. It was a bit on the smaller side, but it was a bit more of a homey feeling to it. Something that you thought would be good seeing how this will be the new addition to your family.

Soon as you stepped forward towards him, he bounded ahead of you, eager to get through the door. “Hurry up!” He whined as you leisurely took your time walking up the path to the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you huffed as you finally managed to get to the front door. Yoongi was grinning so hard his cheek muscles were sore, but that didn’t matter. It was finally happening. He was gonna be a dad!

Door to the shelter opened, he followed you as you stepped inside, glancing around at the posters of various cats and dogs on the wall. He stared at them while a volunteer at the front desk asked to help you. He moved his head to pay attention to the conversation, but little meows echoed from the door where the volunteer entered from. His hand instantly grabbed yours as he heard the little cries; not coming from his computer, but from actual kittens.

His attention was brought back to you at the sound of your laughter. “You ready, Yoon?” He nodded his head so hard, you feared his head might pop off. Your shoulders shook with another laugh as you looked back to the volunteer, “Can we see them now?”

“Of course!” She answered as she took a few steps back towards the door, holding it open for the two of you. Yoongi followed after her quickly, tugging you along with your hand still tightly grasped in his. The smell of all the other animals filled Yoongi’s senses as they walked down a short hallway. He could hear the sounds of them as well, all calling for the attention of the new people that they no doubt smelled. Soon enough, they approached a door marked CATS, Yoongi felt your eyes on him as the volunteer opened the door and walked in.

“You ready to be a dad, Yoongi?” Your voice was soft as you squeezed his hand. All he could do was nod as you entered.

The scent hit him first, the smell of fur and cat food, and litter boxes. Not the most pleasant thing in the world, but at that very moment, it was better than roses to him. Then the sound of dozens of cats meowing away filled his eardrums and he felt his smile get wider as he glanced around the small room. There was a small cat tree in the middle of the room, with silver kennels on either side of it. Some of the doors were open, the felines who inhabited them wandered about the room. The rest of them remained closed, but that didn’t stop them from sticking out their paws between the wires, going out to grab the other volunteers in the room.

“So all our kittens are about four to six weeks old, all siblings are in the same kennel. Feel free to open them up if you want,” she explained as she walked over to another male volunteer to talk to him. “All their names are on that white board, by the way!”

There was a small brush against Yoongi’s pant leg. Glancing down, he made eye contact with an orange tabby cat; rubbing it’s head against his calf. The creature looked up and meowed at him, curious about the two new strangers who came in. Ever so slowly, Yoongi knelt down petting it’s head and letting it keen into his hand. Above, he could hear you coo as at the sight before getting distracted with another cat that came up to you.

Yoongi felt like he was going to cry, he had to only take one home? When there’s so many here that all need homes? He was so close to just begging you to take them all home, but he knew that that wouldn’t be a good idea. Taking a deep breath, he got back up to his feet and walked over to one of the kennels and peered in, looking at the small fluff balls curl together for warmth. Carefully, he moved to open the wire door without waking any of them, but it appears his presence was enough to wake them because sure enough, small mewls added into the already noisy room as he opened the door completely.

“Hi,” his voice was barely a whisper as he reached in and let the kitten sniff at him, getting adjusted to his scent before moving to touch any of them. A small white kitten with the bluest eyes reached up to grab at his fingers, its small claws digging into his skin. “Ow,” he feigned with a chuckle as he lowered his head to scratch at the fur balls ears. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you.” He lilted as he turned his attention to another kitten. This one was black, but strangely enough has small light grey stripes decorated its body. It was a bit more separated from the rest of the litter, smaller too. Intrigued, he moved his hand over to it and let the kitten sniff it. When it seemed to accept him, he let his hand curl around its small body, lifting it out of the cage and into his arms.

“You found someone, Yoongi?” He heard you ask as you approach him, a small gasp leaving your lips when you see the tiny creature in his arms. “Oh my goodness! Aren’t you precious!” You melted as you reached your finger out to stroke its head.

“I see you’ve found the runt of the litter,” the volunteer noted as she walked over to you both, a smile on her face. “She’s all healthy, so if she’s the one you want, she’s ready to go home with you.”

Yoongi could feel your eyes on him, looking for an answer on if this was the one you were going to take home. He stared down at the small cat in his arms, who’s big eyes stared right back at him. He could feel it deep in his heart, this was the one. This was his baby. “Yeah, it’s her.”

“Okay, babe.” You kissed his cheek before looking back to the kitten still in his arms. “Hi baby, you almost match your daddy.” You giggled as you gave her one last scratch before confirming with the volunteer that you’ll be taking that one home.

With a smile, she nodded, asking you to follow her to finish up the paperwork while telling another volunteer to help Yoongi with getting her ready to leave. He readjusted the kitten in his arms so she was now laying against his chest, rather than in his arms. The other volunteer held a cardboard carrier with an old towel in it out. Yoongi was hesitant at first, not quite ready to let his new found child out of his arms just yet.

“Come on, buddy. She’s gonna be okay,” he encouraged Yoongi as he reached for the cat. Holding back the urge to swipe at him and carry the cat out in his arms, he knew you wouldn’t want him to make a scene. So he complied, letting him take the kitten from him and into the carrier. The volunteer handed it over to him; but instead of holding it by the handle, he held it by the bottom in both hands. Not wanting to jostle her around before getting to the car.

The volunteer escorted him back out to the lobby, where you were finishing up. “Yoongi, what are you gonna name her?” You asked. The question caught him off guard, he didn’t know what he was gonna name his kitten. He’s wanted one for how long and he never thought of one? He quickly racked his brain for names, not wanting it to sound too cheesy or weird but none came to mind.

“I, uh,” he was embarrassed at the predicament. But you merely laughed at him before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just for the chip she got, I’ll just put down Min for now alright?” You looked to him for his permission. He nodded, the two of you will figure out a better name to call her in the meantime. But at least she’s got a nickname on her.

Paperwork all done, and a car full of new cat stuff. The two of you drove back to your apartment, and all the while Yoongi was flinching with every confused little meow that came from the white box on his lap. Unable to take it anymore, he cracked open the carrier a bit, just enough to stick his hand in and sooth her of both his and her anxieties about the drive. You rolled your eyes at the action, mumbling something under your breath about coddling her before she’s even gotten to the house. But Yoongi couldn’t help it! He hated hearing the small and scared whimpers, he couldn’t just do nothing!

When the drive finally came to a stop, you handed Yoongi the key to the apartment. “Put her in our room, close the door and come back here to help me with the rest of the stuff. Okay?” You instructed, to which Yoongi followed to the T. Well almost to the T.

Once he got into the house, he opened up the carrier and pulled out the kitten. “This is your new home.” He started as he walked around, showing her the place. “This is the living room and the kitchen area, we’re out here a lot. Don’t try to scratch up the couch please, or Y/N is gonna kill us both.” He chuckled as he made his way down the hall, pointing at different photos and giving a story. “This is the bedroom, where we sleep. You can sleep here too.” He went on and he placed her down on the ground. “Now you can explore while we go get your things.” He said, but didn’t move. Watching how the kitten sniffed around the new place, getting a feel of it. A smile on his face, he slowly started backing out of the room, closing it behind him.

He rushed back out of the door, but before he made it to your car, he ran into you, an annoyed look on your face. “You got distracted with the kitty, didn’t you?” Yoongi looked down at the ground, feeling a bit guilty for putting the baby before his partner but thankfully you seemed to understand. “Fine, just get the cat litter. Couldn’t carry it all by myself.” You jerked your head in the direction of the car. Nodding, he ran down to go get the rest of the things.

Setting the majority of the cat stuff down, you quietly started towards the bedroom. Cracking open the door, you don’t see anything just yet. You push the door open a bit more, still nothing but there is a small little lump of poop on the floor, stinking up the whole room. “Gah,” you gagged as you quickly went to the kitchen to grab some paper towels and cleaner. “Knew I should’ve told him to get the kitty litter ready first,” you muttered to yourself as you cleaned up the little troublemaker’s poop. After being sure to toss it in a trashcan in the bathroom, you began looking for the little one.

Laying flat on the ground, you peered under your bed. The small outline of the kitten was seen in the middle of the bed, out of reach for you to grab. “Aww, come here baby. No ones gonna hurt you.” You stretched your arm out under the bed, the tips of your fingers barely grazing her soft fur. You could feel her lower her nose to your hand, sniffing you out before rubbing her head against your palm.

“What are you doing?” You heard Yoongi’s voice called out from above you.

“She hid under the bed,” you explained as you pulled your arm out from underneath the space.

Yoongi pursed his lips in thought as he leaned down, taking his turn to reach under the bed. “Come here baby, come on.” He made kissy noises, trying to lure her out. “Come to daddy.” But to no avail, she didn’t come out.

Disappointment was written across his face as he sat up. “Aww, don’t be upset Yoon. She;s just scared. She’s in a new place,” you placed your hand on his cheek. “Why don’t we set up her stuff, maybe she’ll come out then.”

Begrudgingly, he agreed. You set up all the stuff in the room first, just to get her accompanied to the new place before the rest of the apartment. You had Yoongi handle setting up her litter box and opening up her toys while you set up her food and water. Cat stuff thoroughly thrown about the place, you saw small little paws peek out from underneath the bed.

“Yoongi,” you nudged your hybrid to look at where you were pointing.

Instantly, he began to lower himself to the ground, not breaking eye contact with her as she watched him slowly go down and down until he was laying flat on his stomach. Taking a few tentative steps, she got closer to him. Sniffing at his ear which twitched at the close proximity of her black little nose. “Those are my ears,” he stated simply as she started to swat at them and his hair. “Hey,” he chuckled, lifting his head away from her paws. “Don’t hurt daddy.”

“You’re really gonna stick with daddy?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” you raised your hands in defense, not wanting to argue with him. He moved back to sit on the ground next to you and watch as the kitten curiously bounded around the room. She looked up at you before making slow steps over, before putting her paws on your thighs. You looked up at Yoongi who looked nearly green with envy. “Guess we know who her favorite is.” You teased.

“No no no no,” he said as he leaned over before picking up the cat, plopping her on his lap. “She’s gonna be a daddy’s girl, if it’s the last thing I do.” You would’ve thought she would’ve hated being moved by force and would’ve jumped away, but she didn’t. She snuggled herself deeper into his lap and started purring. Now it’s your turn to be jealous.

“No fair,” you grumbled as you leaned forward to pet her again.

Yoongi only stuck his tongue out at you before turning his attention back down to the cat. “Moonlight.”

“What was that?”

“Her name is Moonlight. Moonie for short,” he said, his eyes never leaving her as he let his hand stroke her.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the kitten. “Welcome to the family, Moonie.”

The rest of the day is spent with you and Yoongi on the ground, playing with her, completely ignoring the rest of the world. You took a lot of videos of her playing around Yoongi’s tail. It was precious to see how well he was with her; jumping into his new role as a cat dad. It warmed your heart. With each of her squeaky meows, Yoogni would respond with one of his own; his deep voice making a low meow, sounding nothing at all like a cat. Yet she still responded, meowing back only louder and more pitchy.

As they continued to play, it became painfully obvious that Yoongi definitely bought those small mouse toys for him because he was playing around with them a lot more than her. Moonlight on the other hand, was approaching your bed. Pouncing on it in an attempt to climb up top. With a laugh, you helped her up onto the mattress, watching her as she waddled about the uneasy surface.

Your stomach growled, hungry for some food. “I’m gonna go make something real quick.” You got up and kissed the top of Yoongi’s head before walking out of the room and towards the kitchen. You made a quick sandwich to refuel before getting back to playing. As you ate, you thought of how well this was going to be. Granted it was only the first day, but this was going to be good. Just by the look on Yoongi’s face you could tell. He was absolutely in love with that small little ball of fur, his baby. Your baby.

Finishing up your little sandwich, you made your way back to the bedroom. It was quiet, you didn’t hear any more rustling or mewling. Brows furrowed, you opened the door and the sight you saw before you melted you. Yoongi laid curled up in the middle of the bed, similar to how he did when he first got comfortable with you when you got him. Moonlight was tucked close to his chest with an arm draped over her, fast asleep.

On your tiptoes, you made your way over to the bed to lay opposite of Yoongi. They both stirred as the mattress dipped beneath your weight, but both remained with eyes closed. You let your arm drape over Yoongi’s side, effectively sandwiching Moonlight between the two of you. There the three of your laid, tired smiles on your faces as you warmed the new addition of the family between you.

#bgwdynamitedads #btsghostie event #btsghostie #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi hybrid #bts hybrid au #bts x reader hybrid #min yoongi x reader hybrid #bts hybrid imagine #bts imagine #bts fluff

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mrs-hyperfixed-writes · 3 years ago

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Are You Single? - Part 1

Was originally gonna release it all at once but it was taking way too long and what I had so far was already kinda long. This sort of sets the scene.

Written for: @becomeunsolved

After getting lost in the woods and ending up in a mysterious isolated village, you get captured by Heisenberg and develop a crush, stopping at nothing to get to him.

You imagined that going through the village had been the closest to hell on earth you would ever get. It had been an honest mistake ending up here. Just a simple case of following the wrong fork in the trail. And then night had fallen, the light filtering through the canopy of leaves becoming scarcer and scarcer as the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, abandoning you in a dark forest devoid of noise, the only company being the sound of the snow crunching underneath your hiking boots and the weight of your backpack. You had kept a level head, trying to backtrack but being unable to find the original path you had been set on, and at this point you were sure that you had accidentally brought yourself deeper into the forest. You had decided that the next time you wanted to get away from your shitty job, your shitty flat, and the shitty people you surrounded yourself with you were going to go to Disneyland or something, not go on a soul searching hiking trip in Romania in the middle of winter.

Things began to make noises in the woods, but you refused to stop. Refused to acknowledge them. You wouldn’t be able to see through the dense darkness between the trees with your measly flashlight anyway. And if you stopped, then whatever was prowling the forest might know you were aware of it and take the opportunity to jump at you. So you kept going, hoping that whatever was breaking twigs and making those quiet panting noises didn’t decide that you looked too delicious to ignore any longer. You weren’t afraid of them, not really. It was something else that spurred you on.

Then you had found the village, the enormous castle that overlooked it taking your breath away. For a moment, relief had flooded your system.

It didn’t last long.

***

You fell to your knees in front of the gate to Castle Dimitrescu, exhaustion cutting through to your very bones. In your left hand you held a woodcutter’s axe in a deathgrip. It had been the only thing you had to defend yourself with up until that old man had given you a handgun before he had been dragged away. His blood had spilled from the hole he had created, landing in your hair and drying into a crust. Luckily for you, you had found an old shotgun discarded on a kitchen table in your attempts to escape the horde that had threatened to overwhelm you. It sat in your backpack, the end of it sticking out. You thanked god for deep pockets on hiking trousers. Convenient ammo pouches.

Your jacket was long gone, the monsters that had prowled the village ripping it to shreds in their efforts to get to you. The rest of your clothes were saturated with black blood, your hoodie had become uncomfortably heavy with it, forcing you to take it off and shove it at the bottom of your backpack - which itself was sporting a broken strap. You cleared your throat, spitting a wad of your own blood onto the floor.

A monster had dragged you down below the house, had thrown you out through the wall. You had dropped your axe but had managed to maintain a grip on your gun, and when it had charged at you, you had unloaded four badly aimed shots into its chest and scrambled for your weapon. And when it had charged again you had swung, pouring all your frustration and rage into that swing. You had been through hell already, and for what? Was this punishment for getting lost? Was this punishment for trying to get some peace away from your shitty life? Was this a punishment for those desires that you had buried, that need to be violent and terrifying that you had repressed? You’d spent your entire life shoving that shit down and trying to be a good person. You valued human life, but sometimes you couldn’t help but think some people would look better if they were missing some teeth. Maybe an eye for good measure.

You had turned its head into a pulpy mess even when it had been long dead. Then you had told it to get fucked. And when another one had emerged from the hole you had left in the house, you had bared your teeth at it in a sort of feral smile and waited for it to come. It had circled around you, feeling you out. It looked like it was unused to the resistance. It was unused to a lack of fear.

You had prepared to swing your axe, and addressed it directly, “Dance with me then.”

It had lunged.

And then there had been Luiza’s house. That hadn’t gone very well, the screams of all the people inside still bouncing around your head as Elena’s father had changed. You had understood at that moment that the monsters roaming around had once been people. It had made your skin crawl, and had forced you to fight with even more ferocity when the knowledge that if they got too close to you then they could turn you into one of those horrible beasts with just a scratch. Your jacket had acted as an extra layer of protection, but now it was gone.

You took a deep breath from your position on your knees, hand tightening around the axe. Part of you was horrified with yourself. Horrified that you had given into that need for violence that you had shoved down for most of your life, that you could laugh and smile and indulge in the cruelty of cackling and cursing at the carnage you could wreak on something, even if the victim was a flesh eating werewolf. The rest of you just wanted to survive, knowing that that feral glee that you were trying to keep shoved deep down was probably keeping you alive.

You had no idea what was waiting for you in this castle, but everyone in the village was dead, you had witnessed the last surviving members go up in flames. You couldn’t go back into the forest either, not with all the monsters prowling about. And even if there weren’t any, you might just die of exposure anyway.

So you took a deep breath, reaching for the lever that would bring the gate up.

A steel rod shot in front of your face, embedding itself in the wall to your right. You curled your hand into a tight fist as you stared at that rod. Apparently there really was no rest for the wicked.

“Well, well, well. I didn’t think anyone was left.” A man’s voice.

“Oh for- just give me a break already,” you muttered under your breath.

You turned to look at him, part of you worried that he would be some sort of horrible monster, ready to claw at your skin and chew on your bones as he spoke to you in that accent that you couldn’t quite place. But as you set your eyes on him, your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh. Fuck me,” you whispered under your breath,not caring if he heard or not.

Apparently Red Dead Redemption had completely fucked you up, since now your type was middle aged cowboys that looked like they smelled of cigars and oil. Bits of scrap metal floated all around him. Six hours ago if someone had told you that a man dressed as a cowboy holding a giant hammer had a form of telekinesis that could apparently only affect metal you would have laughed at them and asked them if you could have some of whatever they were drinking. But you had seen plenty of strange things already, and the rod embedded in the wall behind you was giving you a warning that whatever the nature of his powers were, they were nothing to scoff at. They were dangerous. He was dangerous. The thought made something coil in your gut. But not in fear.

You wanted to smack yourself. Now was not the time for an infatuation.

But looking at him, you just couldn’t seem to help yourself. He was tall, and carried himself with a confidence that must have taken a lifetime to master. He carried a giant metal hammer on his shoulder that you knew weighed at least a ton. And the way he carried it so effortlessly made the coiled heat in your stomach spread out across your body.

Why couldn’t you have just been attracted to normal men? Why couldn’t you have been attracted to traits that wouldn’t have put you in an early grave?

You took your backpack off and shoved it blade down next to your shotgun, zipping the bag shut as far as it would go. If it came to a fight, there was no way a weapon with a metal blade would help you. You almost laughed aloud. If it came to a fight between the two of you, only god himself intervening would help you.

“Who the fuck are you?” You weren’t subtle in the way your eyes roved up and down his body.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh. You’re not local? Even better.”

He grinned, and flicked his hand.

The rod that he had thrown came out of the wall and wrapped itself around your neck. Your hands instinctively came up, trying to pry it off. He laughed at your attempts, and another flick of his hand had you being dragged down to the floor neck first before he sent the rest of the scrap metal that had been floating idly to cocoon you.

“Mother Miranda’s gonna love you.”

He laughed, and you cursed at yourself for finding that laugh so attractive as he towered over you. As that last sheet covered your face, you let yourself go, slipping into a deep sleep.

***

Your back hurt. Your wrists hurt. Your head hurt. Everything hurt. But the silver lining on the situation was that you weren’t trapped in a metal cocoon any longer. Instead you were lying on a stone floor, wrists handcuffed together. A discreet tug while you pretended to still be asleep revealed that they were attached to a short chain that was connected to a loop on the floor. Regardless of how strong you were, in your current condition there was no way you could even make an attempt to get yourself free. Even if there weren’t people in the room.

You could hear their voices in the background, and it was a struggle to sort your thoughts so that you could tune into their voices. It had to be about you, and you needed to know what they planned to do with you.

There was no fear, it would only make you panic. Instead there was just determination, a need to survive even if there wasn’t much in your life worth it. Spite maybe? You weren’t going to give anyone the satisfaction of dying alone in a village full of corpses.

“The mortal is of no real use to anyone else. And my daughters do so love. . . entertaining foreigners.”

Red flag. Hearing that in any other scenario would have been a pleasant thing, but given the context of the situation and everything you had been through so far, you were sure that whatever the woman meant by that could not be a good thing. And if those daughters were still alive when the rest of the village had been subjected to either vicious deaths or being slowly and painfully turned into a creature that you were very sure could be considered werewolves.

“Furthermore, I can assure you if you entrust the mortal to House Dimitrescu, my daughters and I shall deliver to you the finest cups of their slaughtered blood.”

Yup, entertaining those daughters was definitely not a good thing.

You pried your eyes open, almost wishing you hadn’t when you saw the creepiest doll in the world standing in front of you. She was about three feet tall and wearing a wedding dress that was admittedly well-crafted. You almost twisted to kick it out of reflex, especially as it started moving like it was alive. A hunchback came in from the side to crowd your personal space, and you gagged against the strong smell of fish. You had smelled actual dead fish that were not as fishy. What did this man do all day?

The doll roughly pushed him out of the way, complaining in a high pitched voice, “Out of the way ugly! I wanna see- oh!”

“You mean-” The man who had captured you started, being interrupted by the doll’s excited dancing and announcement that you had woken as well as the hunchback’s general groaning.

To your left you spied your backpack, just out of reach. “Y-you mean,” he tried again. “Both of you shut the fuck up!”

Well that did it. The doll went to sit in the lap of what could only be her puppeteer, a woman in funeral garb, the only skin exposed being her pale hands. The hunchback shambled off to the side, standing behind the pew where the only human passing man in the entire village sat.

“You mean you’ll screw around with them in private, and where’s the fun in that?”

You looked around, taking note of the woman who had been speaking. Dimitrescu. You could practically feel your nosebleed coming on. She was the tallest woman you had ever seen, and the most beautiful too. Her skin was so pale, her lips a deep red. She looked like a vampire, but given what you had seen so far and her talk of delivering your blood to the other woman in cups was making you think that maybe she didn’t just look like one.

Her name was ringing bells in your head. Dimitrescu. Where had you heard that before?

“Give them to me,“ the man started again, “and I’ll put on a show everyone can enjoy.”

Why me? This was definitely punishment for something.

“So gauche-”

“Hey I know you!” you interjected, addressing the tall woman and interrupting her as the realisation hit you.

They all stopped, turning to face you properly for the first time. Dimitrescu looked you up and down, seemingly regarding you as something beneath her. You quickly came to the conclusion that maybe interrupting her was a mistake, but you didn’t care. There was still no fear, even in the face of a giantess.

“Dimitrescu. That’s the name on that super rare wine in the really pretty bottle. They don’t distribute it anymore.”

She continued to look down at you, which admittedly was easy for her to do given height. “And how would the likes of you have tasted the Sanguinis Virginis?”

“Some rich guy I met at a bar gave it to me in exchange for. . . It doesn’t matter. But. . . it stands for Maiden’s Blood right?” You froze, the dots practically connecting themselves. “Oh my god. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

You leaned over to the side, ready to vomit. You knew there was something wrong with that wine. Your mood was not helped by the shrieking laughter that the doll was emitting at your expense. The man, to his credit, had the decency to wrinkle his nose in disgust at the prospect of blood filled wine. You had drank someones blood. Who had she been? Had they tortured her? Had she died in agony? You didn’t know. You didn’t really want to know.

You looked back up towards the altar. The woman standing at it had looked as familiar as Dimitrescu’s name had sounded. You had seen her portrait in many of the homes. And thinking back, it had definitely been her that had killed that villager when Luiza’s house had burned down. Your heart tugged painfully at the thought of Elena, at how you had come so close to saving her before the floor had collapsed under her and she had told you to escape this village and run.

This woman was Mother Miranda, and somehow she was the cause of all of this. Still no fear, but hatred bubbled up in your heart.

“I’ve heard all of your arguments. Some of you were less persuasive than others, but. . .” She looked at the man, who had now put his hammer on the ground, leaning forward as he waited for her answer, “Heisenberg, the mortal’s fate is in your hands.”

He tipped his hat towards her, grinning.

Dimitrescu got to her feet.

“Mother Miranda I must protest! Heisenberg is but a child, and his devotion to you is questionable.” She started walking towards you. “Give the mortal to me, and I will ensure that they are ready.”

Heisenberg angrily got to his feet, stalking towards her. You had to hand it to him, even with his telekinesis, he must have been fearless to confront Dimitrescu when he was half her size.

He held out his hand as he approached her, summoning the hammer to him. You were beginning to think that something was wrong with you, given that the action had your gut coiling again.

“Shut your damn hole and don’t be a sore loser! Go find your food somewhere else.”

“Quiet now child-”

“Well if it were up to me-” you started.

“It isn’t!” Both of them shouted down at you in unison, though Dimitrescu put significantly more venom into it.

“Well please spare me the family drama when I get enough of that at home.”

Heisenberg actually laughed at that, some of the tension leaving him. Dimitrescu however, looked incensed.

“How dare you! Do you have any idea-”

“If you’re going to ask me if I know who you are, we already established that I did. I just don’t care. And I’m not afraid of a single one of you!”

Heisenberg let out a full belly laugh at that. At which part of the statement he found to be hilarious, you weren’t sure. At least someone had found you funny, and you never wanted that laugh of his to stop. You could listen to it all day.

“SILENCE!” Mother Miranda shouted over them, intervening before someone - probably you - got hurt. “My decision is final, there will be no argument. Remember from whence you came!”

“A megabitch apparently,” you muttered under your breath.

One look at Heisenberg told you that he definitely heard that too. And as he smiled at the statement, you knew in your bones that Dimitrescu was right. His loyalty to Mother Miranda wasn’t just questionable, he hated her. You could feel it. Why though, was anyone’s guess. Though to be fair, she didn’t exactly scream motherly love.

Briefly, you wondered why someone with his abilities didn’t just finish her off and get it over with. But her words, reminding them to remember where they came from. . . she must have been very powerful if she could scold a nine foot tall vampire queen and a cowboy with the powers of Magneto into submission.

Dimitrescu moved back, but Heisenberg moved forward to take up all your attention. Those horrible monsters swarmed in as he did so, clinging to the walls, the scaffolding and leaning over the balconies, snarling and howling as he did so.

“Lycans and Gentleman, we thank you for waiting.”

I fucking knew they were werewolves.

“And now let the games begin!” He leaned down towards you, coming in at eye level. “Lets see what you’re really made of.”

You just smiled at him, deciding to let that beast under your skin that was making heat coil in your gut out to play. “I don’t suppose you’re single.”

His grin dropped off his face, and something like genuine surprise flitted across it. But instead of answering he raised his hammer above his head.

“Oh shit-”

He swung it down, cracking the loop that was keeping you chained to the floor. Lycans were beginning to crowd in. And Heisenberg, he was beginning to countdown from ten. You looked to your left again, spotting the hole in the floor just beyond your bag. You darted towards it, picking up your bag as you did so and turning to the lords one last time. You brought your hands to your face and kissed your palm, blowing it towards Heisenberg. He stuttered in his countdown, just enough to be barely noticeable. You wondered if it was in confusion or if it was because maybe, just maybe, you had flustered him ever so slightly. You vowed that you would make it out alive and find out.

Then you stuck up your two middle fingers, and jumped down the hole.

#resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg x you #heisenberg x reader #Reader has a dark streak #Reader is kind of scary #Reader has a crush

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ontowanderlust · 3 years ago

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*:･ﾟ✧ How to say I love you: Prompt #1

They say a person's senses heighten whenever they are guilty of something.

Luckily for him, he never had the need to prove the validity of that saying... until that one random day.

With the way his fellow NXX members followed him, even he could feel the weight of their silent judgment on his person just as their meeting for the day came to a close with her immediately leaving without even acknowledging him.

At first, the confusion hit him like a ton of bricks. What did he do this time? Never in his life had he felt the overwhelming need to abandon all sense of professionalism as he had watched her retreating figure.

Oh how badly he wanted to know what he did that irked her this time so he could apologize and charm his way back to her graces but all he had been coming up were blanks. All his thoughts had been occupied by her as the days began to shift into a week, agonizing the reason for her lack of attention towards him.

Of all the things he could have forgotten, his brain chose to forget the most important of all!

So what was it? What had he done to annoy the hell out of his onee-san that earned him the cold shoulder?

Just as he was about to raise the white flag and bombard her workplace with apology flowers, realization hit him like a speeding truck, making him slam his head in shame in the privacy of his studio that one afternoon.

How can be so stupid? Just how loose his lips can be when inebriated? While he had never meant for her to know his deepest thoughts, the meaning behind them was never a regret.

So why would he apologize? Did she think they were all for jest? That his words bear nothing more than just a rouse for him to see her reaction?

Hah.

He may be playful but never had he wanted to play with her heart- never.

Hence, why he went out his way abandoning all sense of dignity he had left in him as he sprawled on his back just outside of a bar (he never frequent to, he might add!) sprouting all nonsensical words at this oblivious onee-san.

"Onee-saaaaaaan," he drawled, hoping he sounded a bit drunk and desperate. "Please can't you just get me? I can't move my legs, I feel like I'm gonna die anytime soon." he pleaded, already picturing her rolling his eyes at him, the sound of quiet rustle of papers at her end gave him an indication that she's still at work.

"Marius," her voice exasperated and raspy and yet, to him it sounded oh so gentle, and sweet- the past week of not being able to hear her utter his name is taking its toll on him. "Can't you just get your driver or something or call that assistant of yours? Seriously, you should know better."

He must've been more desperate than he thought himself to be if hearing her scold him made him feel giddy.

"But onee-san," his voice dropping into a low and shaky tone. "I- I'm scared," he let out a shaky sigh at the end.

Silence was heard at her end before heaving out a heavy sigh. "Where are you?"

Yes! He really should add acting in his long list of skills.

Hoping not to make his happiness evident, he told her his whereabouts, promising to stay still for her.

And here they are, his swaying body draped all over her frame, ignoring the grunts she had been letting out as they both walked towards the waiting shed just around the corner.

"You really need to get a grip of yourself, von Hagen," she groaned as she paused to adjust her grip on him. "You could've damaged your reputation or worse, you could've hurt yourself. Really, should the CEO of the Pax group even drink this much?"

He was always thankful for their height difference, otherwise she would've seen the smile he had been failing to hide ever since she came to get him.

"And haven't you- are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, onee-san," like an obedient child, he nodded off in a drunken manner.

"Haven't you learned your lesson the last time you drank?" if he were truly drunk, he would've missed the slight catch her voice made at the end. Thankful for the opportunity, he stopped at his tracks, inadvertently jolting her.

"I have," he said as a matter of fact, dropping all his pretense. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he would've relished the wide eyed expression on her face as it morphed into realization that she had been duped once more.

Not giving her the chance to slip away once more, his hands swiftly made its way to her waist. "And what have we learned? I learned that you can be really dense with your surroundings." he continued, sporting an innocent looking grin.

"For a rising lawyer like you, onee-san, shouldn't you be aware of people's sincerity?" he asked, all traces of mischievousness gone only to be replaced by a look that she couldn't decipher.

"Wh-what are you-"

Taking a step forward, closing the space between them, he lowered his head, heart skipping a beat as he watched her breathing hitch.

"My feelings for you is never a joke- it will never be a joke, and not once have I dared to toy with your heart," he began, his free hand reaching over for hers as he placed it on his chest just above his beating heart. "After all, I was, I am, and I will always be irrevocably in love with you..."

He spoke the words deliberately slow as if he was waiting for her to understand the weight behind its meaning. He spoke of his love as if it is the only thing that mattered.

"...so please, onee-san, can't you take them seriously for once?"

What better way to celebrate being almost free from the clutches of a terror clinical supervisor than to write an amusing fic? I gotta say, writing Marius is a bit tricky but once I blasted his character PV theme song, everything went smoothly- so a massive thanks to Marius’ character PV theme song is in order.

I also got to watch it and I have to say, there are some potential there that got me thinking. I want to capture more of his character and I am hoping for an opportunity to do so.

To those who are curious about his character PV, it’s this one! I’ve watched all of their character PVs and man, the feels! I do like the bgm that came with this one. It’s playful and quirky but you could just hear the melancholy hidden within them. The loneliness that came with responsibility he had to shoulder for his family, and I think that if I could just explore it a bit more- I’m gonna get there- the ANGST!

Here’s the link to the original/inspiration piece: 8 ways to say I love you by R. Mckinley

#tears of themis #tears of themis izumi kei #izumi kei #tears if themis marius von hagen #marius von hagen #his character pv story got me #like damn dude #how could you do this to me?#that's my question to mihoyo #anyway #how to say i love you

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journalxxx · 3 years ago

Text

By Hook or by Crook (6)

Hey kid. I’d like to have a chat with you, if you’re up to it. Would you be free this afternoon?

Izuku idly reread the text and the brief exchange that followed as he whiled away the few minutes left before the agreed time for the meeting.

Just a little over twenty-four hours before, Izuku had had a minor stroke at the mere thought of All Might texting him about a trip to the police station. Just a little over twenty-four hours before, he would have soared straight to cloud nine at the thought of All Might texting him ‘to have a chat’. It was a pity that the only emotion he could muster at the moment was a vague sense of stunned apathy.

“I’ll get that.” He informed no one in particular when the bell rang. The man installing what probably were legalized viruses on his laptop gave him an odd look, and his mother replied something indistinguishable from the bathroom. Izuku shuffled out of his room and unlocked the front door.

“Young Midoriya. Good afternoon.” All Might had reverted to his laid-back cargo pants and t-shirt attire. He seemed more tired and subdued as well, more like on the day Izuku had met him.

“Good afternoon.” Izuku gestured at him to come inside, which he did with a quiet thanks. He did not remove his shoes though, and he stopped only few steps in upon spotting the second man fiddling with the landline in the living room.

“Ah. Busy day, is it?” All Might acknowledged the technician with a knowing nod. He then turned towards Izuku and tilted his head towards the front door. “Say, how about we take a walk? I bet your house feels crowded enough without me imposing as well.”

His mother’s head peeked into the hallway. All Might greeted her with a little wave and a weirdly embarrassed grin.

“I’m going for a walk.” Izuku announced as he slipped his shoes on.

“Uhm, are you sure?” Her eyes shifted between All Might and him with ill-concealed unease.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Izuku cut short. He wasn’t in the mood for another discussion. “See you later.”

He strode out of the building without hesitation. He made his way down the stairs, through the parking lot, all the way to the sidewalk before stopping. All Might caught up with him a minute later, after lingering on the threshold to exchange a few words with his mother that Izuku decided he did not care about. He also decided to ignore the pointed stare the hero aimed at him when he finally reached him.

“Anywhere you’d like to go in particular?” All Might asked after a beat, gazing up and down the small road.

“Not really. You?”

“Any place is fine by me. I need to get reacquainted with this city, its layout is quite different from how I remember it.”

Right, All Might had just moved in. And Musutafu had likely changed a lot since his U.A. days… That would have been a tremendously interesting topic for a chat, Izuku could feel the questions popping up in his head in droves, despite everything. Unfortunately, he was under no illusion that what All Might wanted from him could be that kind of casual conversation.

They picked a random direction and started walking. For almost five minutes, they strolled without breathing a word. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as it would have been under any normal circumstances.

“Had another rough night?” All Might said eventually.

“Mh.” Easy guess. The bags under Izuku’s eyes would soon rival the fixed shadows circling the hero’s if he didn’t manage to rein in his sleeping schedule soon. The nightmares had ceased, thankfully, but his head had been so full of disjointed and clashing thoughts and memories that he hadn’t managed to catch some shut eye until so late that it had become early.

Nothing made sense. Everything made too much sense. In hindsight, it felt strange that Izuku had never contemplated the possibility himself. It also felt absurd that it could be true though, instead of some sort of huge misunderstanding. That his father could be-

“Oh, before I forget. The villain is faring much better.”

“Uh? What?” Izuku blinked.

“The sludge villain whose quirk you returned.” All Might graced him with a gentle smile. “I heard he was already mostly coherent by last night, and as of few hours ago he was firmly denying ever bearing any ‘serious’ ill intent towards you and your friend, demanding to see his lawyer and complaining about the quality of the lunch he was served.”

Guilt needled Izuku’s stomach upon realizing that the villain’s plight had completely escaped his mind since his return home from the police station. How poorly committed his sympathy was. “Oh. That’s… good, I guess?”

“We guess.” All Might chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve dealt with another incident that badly in years, but I’m glad that no one suffered any permanent damage, at least. And thank you again for bringing the matter to a close in my stead.”

“It’s hardly your fault if things went the way they did. But… yeah, I’m glad he’s okay and that it’s over.” Now if only that hadn’t sparked a much worse and much more scarring mishap, at least for Izuku… “Are you all right, by the way?”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Have you managed to see a doctor yet? About, uh…” Izuku pointed at his own mouth, unsure how to describe the attack the man had suffered the day before, the likes of which Izuku had only seen in movies and cartoons, usually from people sporting deadly and gory upper body wounds.

All Might laughed with inexplicable, genuine mirth. “Oh, don’t worry! I wasn’t playing it cool when I said I was fine. It’s just a thing that happens. Usually it isn’t quite as, uh, dramatic, but it really is nothing concerning.”

“But… you hadn’t even used your quirk…” Izuku could not fathom how spraying blood like a fountain on a presumably regular basis couldn’t warrant seeking any kind of medical attention, but the hero waved off his objection with finality.

“Trust me, it’s fine. More importantly...“ All Might wasn’t looking at him. He seemed deeply focused in memorizing as much as he could of his surroundings, peering here and there at street nameplates, buildings, alleys… manholes too, amusingly. But the low and soft quality of his tone made it clear that he wasn’t asking just out of politeness. “What about you, kid? How are you?”

Izuku dropped his gaze to his feet and shrugged. It was an accurate answer, actually. He’d spent so many hours torturing himself with doubts and grief and confusion that at some point his brain had sort of… ran out of energy to spare for emotions. He supposed it wasn’t the worst response he could have had. Stolid empty-headedness was largely preferable to the scorching waves of betrayal, impending doom and overbearing dismay he’d sampled the day before.

“I imagine how difficult all this must be for you.“ All Might went on, just as tactfully. “Have you talked with your mother?”

Oh, scratch that. He was still capable of feeling something. His mother was enough of a sore topic to make him clench his fists. “...Yeah. I have.”

“...I don’t think-”

“She knew.” Yeah, he was still angry. It bubbled in his chest like boiling tar, thick and sticky and suffocating.

“She told you that?”

“I heard you three talking about it last night. I was listening from outside the living room.”

“What?!” All Might seemed genuinely shocked. It hadn’t been Izuku’s proudest moment, admittedly, but let’s be honest, what else was he supposed to do? Pretend that they weren’t discussing life-changing revelations just few meters away from his bed? He was only human. All Might slapped a large hand on his face and dragged it down alongside his pointy features with a groan. “Oh, come on…”

“She knew, and she never told me.” His nails were digging painfully in his palms and- oh great, now he was getting teary again. He’d held it together for the whole day and now he was going to lose it five minutes after All Might had showed up. For the third or fourth time in as many days. Sure, why not? It wasn’t like he’d managed to retain any sort of dignity since the very moment he’d met his idol. Why bother now? “S-She’s known since- since before marrying him- however that happened… I j-just...”

All Might regarded him silently for a moment. “...Things like these look very different from an outside perspective. Especially to someone as young as you are. It’s very easy to judge, and even easier to misjudge.”

“But she knew he was a criminal - one who would not even consider changing his ways for his family - and she… wanted him around anyway? Why would she do that?! It’s- I wouldn’t want an unrepentant villain still involved in illegal business around my son! He’d be... a bad influence, at the very least!”

“Before yesterday, have you ever thought that he could be having a bad influence on you?”

“Uh? No, I… I didn’t know that he was… I never… questioned...”

All Might sighed deeply. “Your father is a notoriously charismatic man. He’s always been particularly adept at coaxing people to his side without open coercion, but with simple, well-aimed words. You never suspected that he may have been acting in his own best interest while offering or withholding certain information from you, although it may seem obvious in hindsight. I bet he managed to instil the same trust in your mother, despite what she knew about him.”

“I…” Izuku rubbed away the tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He couldn’t understand. He just couldn’t. And it tore at him. “W-Was it because of the money? She never... I-I thought we were good, she n-never said anything… I-If I’d known, I would have… I wouldn’t have asked for… s-so many things, I-”

“I highly doubt that a few toys and games could have had that big of an impact on the family budget. There’s no reason for you to beat yourself up over anything.” All Might slipped his hands in his pockets, sympathy plain in his sunken eyes. “Your mother found herself in a very tricky situation, through no real fault of her own. She navigated it as best as she could, and I’m sure your well-being was her top priority. Seeing the healthy and upright young man you’ve grown into, I’d say she handled it admirably.”

“...I know.” Izuku knew it, really, he understood that. But… he’d always seen his mother as just about the most transparent, honest, sensible and sensitive person on Earth. And it turned out she didn't… exactly… meet that standard, however idealistic. It had been a blow, on top of everything else, one that had left him without a real, fully trustworthy figure when he most needed it. “I know that, but… she should have told me. At some point. There’s no excuse for not doing that.”

“Perhaps. It’s hard to predict the negative impact that such a confession may have on a younger child, but perhaps she should have.” The hero conceded. “I’d refrain from handing down verdicts though. You kept some secrets of your own from her. You hid your quirk-”

“But that’s not the same thing! Not even close! A quirk isn’t as big an omission as your father being a criminal!” Izuku snapped, then immediately hunched his back in regret, his tone losing some volume but not its bitterness. “And, you know, maybe, maybe I wouldn’t have listened to him so readily if someone had warned me that he isn’t exactly an upstanding citizen!”

“Look, it isn’t my place to comment on how things stand or should stand between you and your mother, or how you should behave, but… if there’s one thing you need to keep in mind - and please do keep it in mind, at all times - is that the one person who bears absolute and doubtless blame is your father. That’s the source of all the lies that have been fed to you. Lies and deception are… what he does, really. What he’s always done. You and your mother are both victims in all this.”

Izuku sniffed and wiped some tears and snot on his sleeve. It was gross, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. There was a logic to All Might’s words, but no logic justified the staggering duplicity that had just turned his life upside down. The unfairness of it all was simply too much to accept.

The boy looked up when All Might poked him on the shoulder to catch his attention.

“Speaking of which…” All Might swerved to the left, entering a smaller and more secluded lane leading away from the more trafficked routes. He had resumed his perusal of the area, and his expression had regained a firm, almost steely edge. Izuku followed him. “What I wanted to talk to you about concerns what transpired about your father, and how it will affect your life going forwards.”

No surprise there. The two plain-clothes agents that had shown up that morning, no doubt mourning the loss of their well-deserved Sunday rest, had been clear enough of a warning of some upheaval to the Midoriyas’ routine. All Might’s vague text had only cemented Izuku’s expectations of further disruptions.

“I hate being the bearer of bad news, but it is imperative for you to understand the gravity of your father’s position… especially to prevent him from enacting any sort of manipulation or control on you in the future.” The hero began. “The man you know as ‘Hisashi Midoriya’ goes under many aliases, so much so that we are still unaware of his real name. He has committed an astounding variety of serious crimes, over the course of decades. Even if your mother claims to be aware of his background, I assure you she doesn’t know the half of it.”

Izuku physically curled up under the weight of those words. It was… even worse than they thought? His father sounded more and more like some obscenely powerful yakuza boss or something, which was just… just...

“The police will be gathering and analyzing as much evidence as possible to find clues leading to his current location and activities. All possible forms of communications between you and him will be monitored. Your phones will be bugged, and any electronic devices you own will be fitted with tracking software. Your mail will be examined before delivery.” All Might paused, assessing Izuku’s lack of a reaction to his speech. “Did they tell you about this already?”

“S-Some of it, yeah.” Izuku’s gaze dropped to the asphalt again. The dried tears made the skin on his cheeks and around his eyes itch. “Will there be cameras too? Inside the house?”

“I haven’t heard about cameras. I don’t think so. Seeing as your father never set foot in your house, there doesn’t seem to be any reason to surveil it that closely from the inside. The outside will be watched, so we’d notice anyway if he tried to approach it.”

“...Okay.”

“...I know it’s an oppressive situation. No one likes having their privacy invaded. But know that the professionals in charge of monitoring you are utterly uninterested in you specifically, or in whatever you do with your free time, as long as it isn’t anything outrageously illegal.” All Might’s voice softened again, although not enough for Izuku to dare raise his eyes from the ground. “I hear they are especially unconcerned about peculiar web searches and piracy perpetrated by bored adolescents, and some such things. Anything that isn’t strictly related to the case at hand won’t ever make it into any reports.”

“Mh.” A couple of small mercies were better than none, Izuku guessed. He really couldn’t muster neither enthusiasm nor gratitude for them at the moment though.

“Ah, about this… Those monthly phone calls your mother mentioned are particularly relevant for the police. They are likely their best bet in pinpointing your father’s position.” All Might paused. “For that reason, we would appreciate your cooperation on that front.”

Izuku’s brain suddenly jolted into activity, a myriad of spy movies and comics coming to his mind and offering plenty of distressing scenarios he could be potentially thrusted into. “You mean like… you want me to help you find him? Get him to drop hints about where he is, or- or asking him to go somewhere where you can set up a trap, or-” Izuku looked back up at the man, without bothering to conceal the pure terror that such prospects filled him with.

“What? No, of course not!” All Might exclaimed, surprised. “I mean, it isn’t out of discussion that we may try to actively lure him out at some point, but that would take extensive preparations and precautions on our part. We’d need to gather more intel and agents, recruit other heroes first… We definitely aren’t considering taking any such steps yet.”

“O-Oh… okay…” He let out the tiniest sigh of relief. No wild capers… for now...

“Besides, even if we were, we wouldn’t use a child as bait! Your mother would be much more suited to assist us. Any request from her would have more sway on your father, and she would handle the pressure much better.”

“So… what do you want me to do then?”

All Might shrugged. “Just keep up appearances. Continue having your monthly calls with him as if nothing happened, so as not to alert him that something might be wrong.”

That wasn’t that big of a demand, objectively speaking, but... it didn’t seem feasible either. Izuku’s grasp on his own emotions was tenuous at best at the moment, and his father had always been exceptionally perceptive to his state. He really didn’t think he could endure up to two hours of small talk about heroes, quirks, school and assorted pleasantries without having some sort of breakdown halfway through. Izuku gulped, bracing himself for the inevitable scolding of his cowardice.

“...I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure if I can do that.”

Surprisingly, All Might wasn’t put off in the slightest. “In that case, you could ask your mother to pretend you got hurt in some way that prevents you from speaking. Bad tooth, removed tonsils, broken jaw, you name it. That would earn you at least another month of silence and… hopefully the investigation will make some progress in that time, or you’ll grow used enough to the situation to face him with a cool head.”

That was a reasonable approach to the issue. It was a relief to know that someone else was putting some thinking into all this in Izuku’s place, now that his already flimsy decisional autonomy had stumbled into the metaphorical equivalent of a bear trap. “...I’ll think about it.”

“Thank you.” All Might nodded, strangely unperturbed by Izuku's less than proactive attitude. “Other than what I’ve mentioned, you will also be followed wherever you go whenever you aren’t at home or at school-”

“W-What?” Izuku instinctively glanced around, envisioning slow-moving cars or shady individuals with sunglasses and holed newspapers observing him from bushes.

The corners of All Might’s mouth twitched upwards. “You will not be aware of it, nor will anyone else, of course. It will have no actual impact on your daily life, like all the other measures we’ve already covered.”

“But why?” Izuku griped, his heart sinking so deep that it would soon pierce through the Earth’s mantle. “My father isn’t going to suddenly drop by to say hello, you just said so yourself!”

“It’s for your own protection too.” All traces of humor vanished instantly from the hero’s demeanor. “Your father is no stranger to violence. In the past, he has resorted to brutal and immoral means to dispose of his enemies, and... I’m sorry to say that he would not hesitate to employ such methods against his own family, if he deemed it a danger to his own safety.”

Izuku couldn’t hold back a little hysterical chuckle that sounded pitiful to his own ears. “That… sounds a bit exaggerated, doesn’t it? I-I get that he’s a bad guy, but… I really don’t think he’d do something like that to us. H-He’s never even raised his voice with me, never...”

“Midoriya. I beg you to believe me when I say that you can’t trust anything of what you think you know about your father.” All Might stopped to glare intently at a narrow, dingy alley littered with trash bags. “He is dangerous. Extraordinarily so. Tsukauchi is pushing for having further safety measures enforced for your family, and until those have been granted, please be very aware of your surroundings at all times. Refrain from taking unfamiliar routes, and stick to crowded areas whenever you can. I don’t want to scare you, but even having eyes on you at all times is no guarantee of a timely intervention, under unfavorable circumstances.”

“Is it… really that bad?” Izuku breathed, gutted by the unexpected harshness of the picture painted by All Might’s words. It was… inconceivable, still. His father, deliberately hurting him? His father, whose cutting sarcasm was just about the only vaguely hurtful trait Izuku had ever witnessed? His father, a hardened, soulless criminal averse to puns and All Might trivia, and yet always so willing to let Izuku torture him with both? His father, ambushing him from dark corners? “Is he really that bad?”

“Yes.”

“What did he…” Izuku started asking, only to trail off. It was a pointless question, with a clear answer. It had been buzzing in his head for the whole night, blindingly obvious by now. “...He steals quirks, doesn't he? That’s what he does. He... maims people for…”

“I’m afraid he isn’t nearly as conscientious as you in regards to-” All Might cut himself off with a visible flinch. “Wait, he told you about his quirk? You know it’s the same as yours?”

“Y-Yes.”

“You didn’t mention that to us.” Bright pinpricks of blue were suddenly trained on Izuku with piercing intensity. It kept catching him off guard, how both of the Symbol of Peace’s towering forms could switch from amicable to intimidating at the drop of a dime.

“I-I thought… He said it was a secret- one of his confidential matters. I’ve always thought he was some sort of… prison guard or undercover agent…” God, how unbelievably stupid it all sounded now. Izuku had never felt more childish.

“...That goes to show…” All Might mumbled, barely audibly. It unsettled Izuku. It went to show what? His father’s cunning? Izuku’s naivety? Or… surely not that he could be hiding something on purpose...

“I-I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I had no idea how- how serious- I’d never-”

“Mh?” The hero blinked at him, as if emerging from a private musing. “Ah, I mean… There could be some merit to the other thing I wanted to ask of you.”

Izuku just waited, barely able to withstand the acuity of the hero’s gaze without shrinking. After a few tense moments, All Might let out a sigh and resumed walking, his eyes wandering back to the street ahead.

“To be frank… Personally, I don’t think we’re going to achieve much from all these investigations.” He grimaced, as if regretting those words as soon as they left his mouth. “Not for lack of trying, mind you. Tsukauchi is an immensely capable and dedicated officer, he’ll pursue each lead as thoroughly as humanly possible, but… Your father knows how to cover his tracks. Phone calls, payments, mail, blatant cues like those have never brought us close to him in the past, not once. To his associates, yes, to his… ‘aftermaths’, yes. But never to him personally. His circumstances were always shrouded in impenetrable security. I doubt this case will be any different.”

Buildings gave way to the open horizon. They had reached the end of the street, which merged into a largest road running along the coast. They crossed it, and kept going on the opposite sidewalk, looking down on a thin stretch of sand separating them from the sea.

“That said… he did leave one huge trail for us to find this time. A whole family, out in the open.” All Might’s eyes returned to the boy pensively. “A breakthrough like this, if you’ll pass me the term, is unprecedented. The most obvious leads could turn out to be dead ends, but maybe there is something to be found in the smaller things.”

“The smaller things?”

The man gestured vaguely. “He’s been talking to you, has he not? To you and your mother both, for over a decade. Not that often, but… hell, he even told you about his quirk, and one would expect him to be very tight-lipped about that. There might be more to dig up. Details he may have deemed unimportant, or accidentally let slip. Hints. Small things.”

Izuku was finally catching the drift. “I’m really sorry, but… I know you probably can’t take my word for it, but I really don’t know anything about what he does, or ever did. He never let anything slip about his… his ‘job’...”

“Of course not, that’s not what I’m referring to. The thing is…” The hero clucked his tongue in frustration. “We know so little about the man himself as well. His identity, his background, his history… We know next to nothing about him, and what little we do know, we were only able to discover through very unconventional means. If there’s a chance to glean one more shred of information hidden among the fabrications, I think it’s worth pursuing it.”

“So the police are going to question us about… fourteen years’ worth of chit-chats?” That seemed like a disproportionate endeavor for something as volatile as the possibility of parsing an ounce of truth. Exactly how desperate were they to catch this increasingly perplexing father of his?

“That’s the gist of it, yes. And ideally, we would like to interview you separately, to avoid that either of you could, ehr… inadvertently censor yourselves about information not known by the other-”

“Like my quirk. Or dad’s ‘activities’.“ Izuku muttered.

“...Yes. Things like those.” All Might paused, then cleared his throat. “Well… given the delicate nature of the case, we are trying to keep the workforce to a minimum, and involve as few people as possible. This ought to speed up coordination and briefing, as well reduce the risk of information leaks. Tsukauchi will be personally questioning your mother… as well as direct the entire operation. He’s quite the multitasker. And, well… since technically I’m already involved and up to speed and I won’t be contributing to the proper detective work in any capacity… we thought I might take care of hearing your side of the story.”

A little Oh was the whole extent of Izuku’s reaction as the hero’s words washed over him. All Might seemed a little discouraged by that.

“We figured it might put you a little more at ease… Talking with someone you’re already familiar with, instead of a brand new face. And, ehr… well, you mentioned being a fan, so…” He elaborated, his hands drawing half-formed shapes in the air to underline his words. He looked… almost nervous? “It’s just a possibility, of course. If you’d rather be entrusted to a proper member of the force, it’s well within your rights to request that.”

Izuku did not miss the underlying meaning of that winding speech. It was within his rights to request who he wanted to be interviewed by, not if.

“Do I even have a choice?” All Might’s guilty grimace was all the reply Izuku needed. “...No, sorry, I… That’s a stupid question. I’ve no reason to refuse either.” Surely not the faint sense of betrayal knocking on his conscience at that very moment. Could he even feel bad about betraying someone who’d never been honest with him in the first place?

“...I know it’s far from an enticing perspective.” All Might rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “It’s going to eat up a lot of your time, and people are never exactly eager to ‘snitch’ on relatives, even when they’re criminals. But I really think it could be of great help to us.”

So that was the role Izuku was going to have in this whole mess, that of a very oddly-shaped piece in a very complicated puzzle. It could be worse, he supposed. Being stuck in a room talking with the number one hero for hours could hardly be considered a real punishment. Were the topic of the conversation literally anything else, it’d be a dream coming true, even. He should push that angle on himself, Izuku pondered. Maybe he could talk himself into enjoying the whole thing, in some way.

“Since I’m no policeman, I’m amenable to reward you for the time and effort you’ll generously dedicate to the task with suitable bribing. I was thinking snacks, if that doesn’t come off as too cheap.” All Might continued with a tentative grin, although his attempt at levity didn’t stick the landing. “No? How about, ehr… All Might merch?” For some reason, his face scrunched up as if the suggestion physically pained him.

Izuku sighed. There was no point in fighting the inevitable, was there? “It’s fine. I’ll do it.”

“...Thank you, that is very good to hear.” All Might smiled with evident relief. He patted Izuku’s shoulder encouragingly. “I’ll say, you’re taking all this a lot better than I was expecting. For all the crying, you have quite the resilient attitude. Heroic, even!”

Izuku let out a half-choked sob. Oh. Oh, wow, that realization hurt. He hadn’t thought about that since… had it really only been a couple of days since making it into U.A. had been his biggest concern in life? And now…

“Ehr… Sorry, did I say something wrong?” All Might asked when faced with the new bout of tears streaming down the boy’s cheeks. Izuku shook his head.

“S-Sorry, it’s just… I-I guess that’s the closest I’ll ever get to becoming a hero now, uh?”

“What?”

“There’s no way they’ll let me anywhere near a hero course now, is there? My father told me it was basically impossible before, and now...”

“Your father told you that you couldn’t be a hero? Your father who is a villain?” All Might gave him a pointed look. “You may want to start reevaluating some of the nuggets of wisdom he’s been imparting on you in light of the new revelations, kid.”

“But he’s right, isn’t he?” Izuku griped. “It’s even worse now that he turned out to be a villain! A bad one too! Abusing the same overpowered quirk I have, it’s just… too great a bias, isn’t it?”

All Might seemed caught off guard, then he frowned and looked away without replying. There it was, the naked truth. Not even an attempt at a rebuttal. Out of discussion. Izuku’s dreams scattered to the wind, without hope of salvation.

“Y-You know, I actually thought… I could work my way around it.” Izuku continued among the sniffles, dropping his gaze to the ground. “I thought I could just pretend to be quirkless. F-For a while. Pass the test like that, make some friends, get… get trusted as a hero because of my work. A-and then, then one day, just… after everyone trusted me, I thought I could come out clean. And start using my quirk for good. I thought it could work. Get others to know me before my quirk. B-But it’s never going to happen now. The police know, the school will know.”

“...I must say that building your budding hero career on a lie isn’t the most solid plan I’ve ever heard.” There was no accusation in All Might’s tone, but his words still cut deep.

“I know…” Izuku bit his lip. He’d known, but what alternatives did he have?

“But I guess we can’t all carelessly parade our true selves before public scrutiny, can we?” The man sighed, scratching his own head. “You are right about one thing though. Actions do speak louder than words. You might not be able to talk your way out of your… delicate circumstances, but factual demonstrations of good intentions can go a long way.”

“That’s… That’s all I’m asking for!” Izuku’s head snapped up, desperately latching onto that single lifeline. “I would do whatever it takes to be allowed to try!”

“Well, I’d say you’re already on the right path then. Cooperating with the police is definitely a good step to establish good faith.” All Might flashed him a sheepish smile. ”...I’m not saying that just to grind my own axe, I swear.”

“Do you think it would be enough for U.A. to let me attempt the test?”

“You want to apply to U.A?” The hero seemed strangely surprised.

“Yeah. Is it… not a good idea?”

All Might took a few moments to reply. “...It might work in your favor, actually. U.A. is famous for the degree of self-determination afforded to its management by the government. If you’re worried about external interference, U.A. is your best bet to avoid it.”

A tiny, shy flicker of hope ignited in Izuku’s chest.

“...I’ve known the principal of U.A High School for a long time. He’s a bit of an eccentric, but one with an impeccable work ethic.” All Might resumed after a moment. “He’s not the kind of person to let unfair judgement undermine his institute. Especially if it prevented an aspiring hero he deems worthy from being appointed his student.”

“You mean that…?”

“I mean that if you do plan to apply to U.A. you could have a chance of making it in, regardless of your unfavorable background. If you pass the admission test, that is.” All Might suddenly stopped walking. “...What is this?”

Izuku blinked, ripped out of his thoughts, and took in the portion of the seafront they had reached. Wow, he really hadn’t been paying any attention to where they were going, had he? “...Oh. It’s, ehr… an illegal dumping site, I guess.”

“Really?” All Might commented, eyeing the sad, disregarded No Dumping sign welcoming its disobedient visitors.

“Yeah. The currents always bring flotsam to this area, so it was never clean in the first place. And then people started taking advantage of it…”

“And no one ever comes here to pick up any of this?” Strangely, the sight and the slight stench of mounds of rusting metal and assorted junk didn’t bother All Might, who climbed down the few steps separating the sidewalk from the beach.

“No, the city administration never took an interest. Everyone else just avoids this spot altogether. It’s been getting worse over the years.” Izuku had no idea why All Might was studying the piles of dismissed appliances as if they might hold some hidden treasures within, but he felt rather dumb for accidentally introducing this to the hero, of all places in Musutafu, as his first sightseeing landmark. “Sorry, I should have brought us somewhere else.”

“It’s fine.” Undaunted, All Might wandered deeply into the maze of refuse, with Izuku ruefully tagging along. “A safe, handy spot where a passing criminal in a hurry could stash some loot, don’t you think? Good to know.”

“Oh. I didn’t think about that.” Right. That was what it meant for a hero to know his turf, right? It went beyond street names and layouts. It meant to be aware of how each location could lend itself to certain criminal activities, what places could make for good improvised hideouts, where civilians were more or less likely to be gathered...

“How were you planning on passing the admission test?” All Might asked when they reached the water’s edge, eyes fixed on the waves crashing on the sand.

“Uhm. Well, I’ve already started reviewing the subjects listed in the syllabus…”

“I was referring to the practical session, actually.”

“Oh, uhm… Well, I tried looking for information about it online, but there doesn’t seem to be any. Apparently it’s U.A.’s policy to bind all participants to non-disclosure. They say that observing how potential candidates react to unexpected situations is part of the evaluation process, so…”

All Might looked at Izuku, his expression blank. “Yes. So?”

“Ehr.” Suddenly Izuku felt extremely on the spot. “W-Well, without knowing what I’m getting into, I don’t really have any specific strategies in mind.”

All Might cocked his head with a slight frown. “What about generic strategies? What skills were you going to capitalize on?”

“I… Well… I thought I’d just… try my best. Improvise and use my head.”

All Might blinked. “...That is what everyone else is going to do too. Except everyone else will also have a quirk to rely on, while you weren’t going to use yours. That’s a massive disadvantage right there.”

“Yes, I know.” Izuku clasped his hand behind his back in shame. That was an excellent point, one that somehow no one had ever raised with him. Everyone, including his father, instantly shot down his idea as soon it left his mouth. No one had ever asked him to elaborate on the practical details. Which he had sort of… failed to sort out so far.

“And you have no notion as to how to bridge that gap.”

“Not… not yet.”

All Might crossed his arms, sporting possibly the harshest expression Izuku had seen on him yet. It made his stomach lurch unpleasantly. “...Are you serious about this hero thing? Are you sure it isn’t just a passing fancy?”

“It isn’t! It absolutely isn’t!” Izuku answered immediately. “I just… I don’t even know if I’m allowed to bring any tools, or-”

“Tools?” All Might scoffed as he walked back to him and gave him a critical once-over. “Looks to me you already have all the tools you need, if you deigned to consider them.”

“Uh?”

“You have arms, don’t you? Hands. Legs. Arguably a head.” All Might poked at each listed limb with a bony finger as he started circling him like a starved shark. “All in working order, yes?”

“Y-Yes- I mean, I’m not ill or anything, but-”

“Then why aren’t you trying to capitalize on those? A quirk is an important part of a person, but it’s not the only one! You have a body, use it!”

“Ah, yes, I…” Izuku gulped. “It would make sense to, uh, try to get a little stronger, I guess…”

“You guess? ” All Might was reaching yet unexplored levels of visible exasperation, which was saying something considering the whole secret-villainous-father debacle. Izuku didn’t know if getting the number one hero so worked up about his little pipe dream should be considered flattering or shameful. “Being a hero isn’t a desk job! Running fast, lifting heavy weights, enduring fatigue are not optional skills! No matter what quirk they have, no hero worth their salt can neglect to keep in excellent shape!”

“R-Right. Of course. It’s just that, uh…” Izuku fidgeted. “I’m not really good at that sort of… physical stuff. I’ve always been a bit on the scrawny side, and I get tired easily, and I’m no good at brawling-”

“Despite training?”

“...I’ve never followed a proper training regimen, but…”

All Might rubbed his hands on his face. “Kid, unless they have a physical-enhancing quirk, people aren’t just born strong. They get strong by training - do I really have this state this out loud?”

Izuku was fairly sure his face was about to spontaneously combust. Of all the things he’d expected to happen in his near future, being scolded by All Might in person for his lack of commitment to physical activity was not one of them. “Y-You are right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… to disrespect you or your profession…”

“You didn’t, I was just… You seemed passionate about this two days ago...” All Might trailed off. “My point is that all the equity in the world won’t net you a place in U.A. if you don’t pass that test. And if you really are serious about raising your chances of becoming a hero, you have to give this some serious thought, and soon. You can cram months of study into weeks if you have the brains for it, but you cannot do the same with workouts.”

Izuku willed himself to hold his head up straighter. “I-I will. Thank you for your advice, it makes a lot of sense.”

The silence that descended between them was more than a little awkward.

“I’ve pestered you enough for today, haven’t I?” All Might eventually said as he took off towards the sidewalk. “Let’s go back.”

Izuku trailed behind the hero as they made their way among the waste, and almost bumped on him when he slowed to a stop to stare at a particularly high pile of contorted, rusty scraps.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I was just thinking that… What I need is a quiet, lonely place to have some private chats with you, and what you need is a way to work up some muscle and rack up some good karma, right?” All Might scratched his chin as he scanned the heaps of trash hiding the rest of the city from view. “...Say, how do you feel about community service?”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #All Might #Toshinori Yagi #deku #izuku midoriya

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scenarioslovers · 4 years ago

Text

Our sin |Jungkook x You| Finale

PLEASE READ ME FIRST : PART 1| PART 2 |PART 3|Part 4

special thanks to the rose DoJoon

“You are nervous?” Minju teased Jungkook as she kicked his shin under the table, sipping from her ice vanilla latte.

Jungkook eye sided the man who was standing behind the counter and who also happened to be the same guy they met in the market and told them about the friend who decided to run away leaving everything behind. The man was watching them with narrowed eyes as if he was analyzing them carefully.

“He is watching us.” Jungkook sighed as he took a sip of his americano.

“Who?” Minju turned half of her body and looked over her shoulder to find who’s Jungkook talking about. She smiled at him, waving in his direction which she received a response of widening eyes and reddening cheeks out of embarrassment. “It seems like she made a few new friendships. Also seems like you have a competition.” She grinned at Jungkook, shrugging her shoulders.

“This isn’t funny.” Jungkook frowned at her as he looked at the huge window they were sitting next to. Jungkook insisted to sit there so he could watch the streets and wait for your arrival.

“Hey, Minju, I want to apologize for what I did. I am greatly sorry.”

Minju stopped in her place as she places the cup of coffee over the table before meeting her ex-boyfriend's eyes. “I am not the person you should apologize to. In fact, I also should apologize to her. I acted selfishly and it’s just so messed up.”

“Maybe we should have kept our promise not to date each other. It is us who started this mess. We both knew how Y/N was feeling but then...” Jungkook spoke softly as he watched Minju carefully. They both know better than to play victims.

“It’s too late for that. Just let me ask you one last time because I will never allow you to hurt Y/N in any way possible. I will haunt you down Jungkook and I will make you regret the day you thought you can hurt her again; do you really love her?”

“At first I was confused. I was deeply hurt when you decided that our relationship was not what you wanted and left me. I was hurt so badly and the only one who could assure me that everything was good, that you just did not decide to end everything we have was Y/N. She was there for me all the time. I knew her feelings towards me. I knew that she could do anything for me, but then I realized I would do the same thing for her.

“I realized that whenever something would happen in my life, I would go to her for solutions or comfort. She never complained and always listened. She gave me love, much greater than anyone could give. And I now know I did not deserve any of it. I do not deserve her. I just want her to know that I am so sorry. I used her and became a coward to hold on to her responsibilities. When she needed me the most, I once again, betrayed her love and chased after you.”

By the time, Jungkook finished his speech, Minju had tears in her eyes. Jungkook’s fist was tightened that his knuckles turned white. They both had failed their friendship. And if Y/N decided not to forgive them, she had all the right to do so.

Clearing her throat, Minju said, “We both don’t deserve her.”

There was a question hung there in Minju’s mind. She could see how much Jungkook loved Y/N, even though he realized it so late. She wanted to know if Jungkook ever loved her, or was he too scared of the love Y/N gave that he decided to avoid it? However, she would never know. It was too late to ask and it wasn’t the right time to shift the attention back to her. She should have realized when she left him, it was her who broke that little thread between their friendship.

Hours passed, kids started to run out of the school, walking back to their homes. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat when he spotted you.

You had the brightest smile on your face. A smile that he had not seen in so long. A smile he didn’t know that he missed so much. He kept watching her as she said goodbye to her student, before walking toward the coffee shop. She looked up and her smile disappeared when she met his eyes. Jungkook’s heart dropped. His heart ached as she looked away before entering the building.

The coffee shop was on the second floor of a small building. So, when she appeared on the stairs, jungkook’s heart started to beat so fast, he felt like it was going to explode. The moment he was thinking about for days, weeks, months, years, was finally here.

She was there.

He was here.

It was just a few seconds and meters away from facing each other again.

Throwing a small smile at the man who had been watching them the whole time, he returned the smile with a raised eyebrow and a wink. They acknowledged each other’s presence and Jungkook found himself hating the man even more. He was already getting on his nerve with his eyes that were watching them like CCTV.

Now he could not stand him.

“Here,” Minju said, waving at Y/N, who walked over and took a seat on the third side of the squared table.

Silence filled the place, as you refused to speak. Waiting for them to say what they wanted from you. You could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of eye contact. You did not want to look at him. You were scared your heart would do that flip that it did whenever your eyes fall on jungkook. You refused to humiliate yourself again.

“Should I order you coffee?” Minju started, trying to break the awkward silence.

At that moment, the gentleman appeared with a tray and a glass of juice over it. He put the glass in front of Y/N, before saying “She doesn’t drink coffee. Are they really your friends?” He looked at Y/N for confirmation. She gave him a small smile before touching his forearm.

The gesture was so intimate, so gentle that Jungkook’s heart could be heard shattering in its place. Minju was right. He could be too late to get Y/N back.

“Thank you, Dojoon-shi” your smile was so warm.

He smiled back as he said, “If there is anything, I can help you with, call me.” you nodded before he walked away, and you returned your gaze to the table that was now filled with your glass of juice beside, jungkook’s black coffee and Minju’s ice vanilla latte.

You did not have to ask to know their drinks. They always order the same thing.

They both have an extreme taste. Jungkook goes for bitter drinks and Minju’s drink could give you diabetes. You did not like both, you preferred, water or natural juices. However, when one of them, ordered your drink, they would give you coffee with milk. They never asked if you liked it or not, they just assumed you do. And you never complained and drink it, resulting in you not able to sleep the whole night.

“You don’t drink coffee?” Minju asked confused.

You nodded, as you reached for the glass of juice. “I cannot sleep at night when I drink coffee.”

“But you always drink the coffee we order for you,” Minju said, annoyance appearing in her voice.

“It’s a waste of money, to throw it away. Plus, you never bothered to ask if I like coffee or not. You just got it for me.”

“Everyone loves coffee. I assumed you do too.”

You gave her a small sad smile. They assumed and acted upon their assumption. That what they always did.

“Anyway, why are you here?” You asked, still refusing to look at Jungkook.

“Because of him.” Minju nodded towards Jungkook. “He went crazy after you left.”

“Like he went crazy when you left.” You comment in which you got a response from Jungkook for the first time.

“I didn’t.” He said, softly. “I didn’t go crazy when Minju’s left.”

“Anyway, I think you should leave.” You said, dismissing his words. As if he didn’t speak at all, still refusing to look at him. “This is all over; it had been three years now. It’s over. I found a new life here. I am happy.”

“Are you dating him?” For the first time, you glanced at Jungkook and you wished you didn’t.

You had not seen that much sadness in his eyes before. He looked as if someone broke his soul and left him like an empty vessel.

It took you a while until you realized who was ‘him’ he was talking about.

You side glanced at Dojoon to find him glancing back at you. When he caught your eyes, he gave you a bright smile, that made you smile back. If you had met Dojoon before all of this, you would have definitely fallen in love with his innocent smile and manly appearance. He was someone so charming that any girl could fall in love with. But this girl is not you.

That small smile exchange, made Jungkook think otherwise as he said, “I see.” His voice choked as he took a deep breath, enough to make his lungs burn with the air filling them. “I wish you happiness, Y/N. I wanted to apologize for what happened between us.”

“You had already, apologized.” You said in a small voice. “This will not erase what happened and differently will not make me heal easily.”

“I wanted to apologize too.” You said, glancing at both of your childhood friends. “I am sorry Minju for betraying our friendship. I knew you still loved Jungkook despite breaking up with him. There is no excuse for my wrongdoings. And Jungkook.”

You breathed deeply and exhaled slowly before saying. “I am sorry for making you confused. My feelings were just a burden. You tried so hard not to hurt me. You tried so hard. I understand that I get that. So, you don’t have to feel guilty towards me. I am setting you free. I am letting you go of any responsibility. It is not your fault. It was a mistake. Mistakes could happen. It is our responsibility now to let go and not letting it happen again.”

Minju was sobbing at this point. She was crying so hard that everyone in the coffee shop was looking at her. Everyone has questioning eyes.

“I... just... wanted you to know... that I am sorry,” Minju said between sobs. “I hurt you. I hurt you, yet you forgave. Why are you like this? Why did you accept our relationship when we first broke our promise?”

“Because I love you and I love... Jungkook.” You said, with a small sad smile. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

“I hate you.” Minju sobbed so much, you felt hopeless. You gave her a tissue to wipe her face from tears.

“If you kept crying like this, people will think I am hurting you.”

Minju looked at your face again and cried again.

You gave up as you looked at Jungkook. “You know how to make her stop. I give up.” But Jungkook was not moving. He just stared blankly at the table. His eyes glittering with tears and when you spoke to him, they cascaded beautifully on his cheeks.

You pressed your lips together letting them cry. One was sobbing so hard and the other was crying silently. After a few minutes, when they stopped crying, Dojoon brought three glasses of water and a tissue box for them. Jungkook and Minju gulped the water down.

“So, finally.” You said, having water for your own. “You came to apologize; I forgive you guys. But really you did not have to come here for this. I am happy that you got back together. You have always been a perfect couple. Do not hurt each other again. And most definitely do not involve a third party in this. It’s tiring for them.”

“We are not together,” Minju said, a sob still in her voice. “We only meet looking for you. We only meet because he could not sleep without finding you. He has been looking everywhere for the past three years. He even went to London to find you. Except you never went there.”

You looked at Jungkook, who was now avoiding looking at you.

“Why?” You asked softly. “Jungkook, why?”

“I am going to the bathroom,” Minju said as she left. You knew she wasn’t going to go to the bathroom, she was leaving you alone with Jungkook to talk.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Jungkook said with a small smile. “I found you. I am glad you found your life, you seem happy and I don’t want to ruin that for you. I just want you to know that...” he gulped. “I was indeed confused, but I have always been confused. I just realized it too late, how much you mean to me.” He smiled, surprising you when he took your hand in his. He caressed the skin of your thumb. Your breath hitched as you felt the electricity of his touch running down your arms. Your heart skipped a beat. You wanted too badly to draw your hands away, however, you missed his touch so much that you couldn’t do it.

“I loved you, and I still do love you so much. It will not make a difference now. Right?” A single tear dropped from his right eye as he bought your hand to his lips. Planting a soft kiss there. “Take care of yourself. Do not get sick and don’t get heartbroken again. I regret breaking your heart the most. But I will have to live with it. I will deal with it. It is my fault after it. I am sorry for everything. I am sorry for letting things get out of our control.”

You tried to smile but it crocked. Your heart was aching, and you felt tears burning at the back of your eyes. You nodded, as you could not find your voice.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He said before leaning in and kissing your forehead. At that moment, you lost it. You tried so hard not to cry. You try so hard not to show that you were still hurt. You tried but failed. When jungkook walked away, you started to sob by yourself. You cried your heart out.

Honesty.

It was what you missed and what failed you. Friendship was destroyed; hearts got broken because everyone decided to lie. You lied to yourself, before lying to each other.

A hand dropped on your back. Looking up, it was Dojoon looking at you sadly. You jumped in his arms as you cried in his chest, witting the front of his shirt with your tears.

Dojoon’s arms were protective and strong around you. He let you cry without asking for the reason. He took you to the kitchen, away from the tourists' and visitors’ eyes. Patting your back gently, his protective arms never got lost. They gave an assurance that no matter what, you had someone who cared about you. Who noticed small details about you. Who loved you and was honest with you about it from day one.

“It’s okay now.” He said softly. “It’s okay now.”

~~~~

That night, you told Dojoon everything that had happened. You kept everything in for so long that you were grateful that he listened to you till the end.

Dojoon was nicer than you expected him to be. Anyone in his position would have blamed you for betraying Minju in the beginning. It’s true that you betrayed her trust and went for her ex-boyfriend whom she still had feelings for. However, Dojoon listened to you carefully, his hand tight around yours. His eyes glittered as he stared right into your soul.

And when you were done talking, Dojoon hugged you tightly, letting you cry as much as you wanted. “You did well keep that in for so long. No one deserves to suffer alone.” He said gently patting you in the back.

“I cheated. I am not a good person.” You said finally letting the words out loud. “I killed my baby. I betrayed my friend, and I don’t deserve to be happy. They think I am happy that I got my life together when in fact I am just running away from those painful memories. From the sins, I have committed”

“You are too hard on yourself,” Dojoon said, breaking the hug enough to look in your eyes but still held you tightly with his arms as if he was afraid, if he let go, you would break, and he wouldn’t be able to collect you. “It wasn’t your fault. You did not make them break up. You were there for someone you loved. You were true to your feelings and you should not feel guilty or sorry about your feelings for someone. For example, I love you. I really do, but I know that you have feelings for that guy. I could see if for the past three years that your heart was somewhere else. So, despite me being with you now, comforting you, and confessing my feeling. I am not sorry at all for telling you how I feel finally.”

You blinked as your heart sank. You did not want to break another heart. “I...”

“I am not telling you this to like me back or anything. I do not even dare to ask you to consider dating me, or even marry me. Even if I would be the happiest person if you agreed, however, I just wanted to show you, to tell you, that when you do something for someone you love, you should not feel sorry toward them. If that person returned your feelings then you are a lucky person, Y/N. Because not everyone gets loved back. And I could tell that young man... he loves you just as much. He was so nervous waiting for you. I have been watching him, I promise you when I say that I saw how anxious he was. Maybe he realized it too late, but late is better than never.”

“I am sorry, Dojoon-shi. I respect you so much. I...”

“I lied. I may not have considered the marriage part.” He grinned as he playfully raised an eyebrow. “But if you want to marry, I may consider it for you.”

His wink made you smile, as you gave another tight hug. “Thank you, DoJoon.”

“So what are you planning to do now?”

“What?” You asked confused. “Nothing, just move on with my life.” You shrugged as you could not think of another option.

“Or you could call your guy and tell him that you still love him. That you want to be with him.” He shrugged, mocking you.

“But...”

“No, buts... a true love comes once. And the true one is the one that can overcome the hardships. You know nothing comes easily and maybe after what happened he learned how to cherish you probably.” He gave you a gentle smile. “Plus, I know you aren’t a coward. Now call him and ask him to come over. I will close the coffee shop for you both to talk in private.”

“Sometimes, I wish that I would have met your way before all of this. I wish my heart would have beaten for you instead. You are a good man, Dojoon and I wish you meet the girl who would give you the same amount of love you give to those around you.”

“I will take that as a compliment.”

“That was a compliment.”

He made a face, before shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh god, you are annoying sometimes.”

DoJoon grinned as he gave you, your mobile phone.

You had nothing more to lose. It’s either now or never.

~~~

Half an hour passed before Jungkook appeared at the end of the street. He was running toward the coffee shop as fast as he could.

Your heart couldn’t help but do that flip. When he stopped before you, he bent himself, supporting himself with his arms on his knees as he was breathing so hard. You wonder how long he had been running. You hadn’t even asked which hotel he was staying in, knowing that most hotels are twenty minutes’ drive away from the local area.

“You could have asked for a taxi, you know?” You said, teasing him.

He looked up at you, his eyes wide with surprise. That was not what he expected you to say.

“I didn’t think about it.” He said, cursing underneath his breath. “I just want to come to you as fast as possible.”

“A taxi would have been much faster.” You gave him a small smile. When you saw his expression darkening, you shrugged as you open the coffee shop door for both of you. “Wanna have some beer?”

“A beer, in the coffee shop?”

“Special order.” You smirked, and Jungkook was so confused. A few hours ago, you refused to even look at him.

“Did something happen?” Jungkook asked confused.

“You don’t want a beer? Should we go for something stronger? Soju?”

“No. I am so sorry, but did you call me here for a drink?”

“You don’t want to?”

“It’s not like this.” Jungkook was trying to read through your expression, through your words. You seemed like a totally different person. “I don’t understand. Why did you call me? Is your boyfriend okay with that?”

“Why are you here?” You asked as you stepped forward to him. “If you know I have a boyfriend, why are you here?”

“Because you called me. I thought something happened and I...” You could see that he was concerned about you. You didn’t tell him what you wanted from him. You just told him to meet you as soon as possible. And here he was. He came running to you.

You closed the distance between the two of you as you tiptoed and kissed him, without letting him continue his words. Jungkook was frozen for the first few seconds before his body reacted and his arm snaked around you, pulling you closer in his arms, pressing you against his body, and kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

He wasn’t sure what you were doing, but his body missed you the most. It reacted on its own. The feeling of your body in his arms, small and fragile. Tears dropped from his eyes. If this was a dream he didn’t want to wake up and find you in someone’s else arms. He was already trying so hard to mentally prepare himself that there was no one in his life anymore.

Breaking the kiss to catch your breath, you noticed Jungkook’s tears. He was looking at you with sad eyes. Hurt was flashing from them. “What is wrong?” You asked, stepping away. Was it a mistake? Did you misunderstand?

But before you could take any more step away from him, Jungkook pulled you closer as he pressed his forehead on yours. His breath was warm against your skin as he said, “This isn’t a dream, right? You will not disappear and break my heart, right? You will not leave, right? This kiss is real, right?”

He cried with each sentence. At this moment, you realized just how much he loved you. You may have done mistakes in the past. Confession may block your way at some point. But this... this was true love.

“It’s real.” You said, touching his cheeks with your balms. “I am here. I am real and this... this is real.” You kissed him again. This time was slow and soft and intimate. Both of you took a moment, to feel each other’s presence.

This was the moment when you realize that despite everything, as long as Jungkook is with you, everything could be forgiven. Everything will pass.

~~~~~~

Thank you so much for loving this story guys. I hope you loved the ending as much as the rest of the story. For the first time, the ending was hurried. I rewrote it for million times, because I didn't want to ruin it. this is one of the reasons I was late. and finally I came to end it today. on 16 of feb in 2021 after almost a year of writing it. I am looking forward to your comments. please tell me if you loved it or hated it and if you would like to see more from my writing in the future

#jungkook #bts scenarios #bts scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan boys scenarios #bts angst #kpop scenarios #kpop #kpop angst #angst scenario #angst scenarios #kpop scenario #jungkook imagine

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teddy-bear-surprise · 3 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞

You can read this story on AO3 or Wattpad too!

Peter Parker X Fem Reader

Description: A Pinch of Angst, Soft Peter Parker, Wholesome Peter Parker, Comforting Peter Parker… It’s a cute story, that’s basically it. Based on post-Far From Home but without the Daily Bugle incident. Spoiler alert: you’re Peter’s girlfriend… Just kidding that wasn’t a spoiler. But that’s basically all the backstory you need. Pls enjoy

Word Count: 5.6K

I would also like to take a moment to recommend the song "Down The Line" by José González since it's what inspired this story.

Before Peter left for his Summer class trip, he was the happiest kid in the world. Or, as happy as any kid whose father figure just died in an intergalactic battle could be. He could barely go one sentence without mentioning how “awesome” it would be to visit Europe. He and Ned had literally stayed up until 3 in the morning– more than once –because they couldn’t stop talking about Europe. He wanted to go on this trip so badly that he packed his bags a week early, which you and May knew was unprecedented for Peter.

Honestly, everything seemed perfect. You and May dropped him off early at the airport, he remembered to bring his passport, and Ned brought snacks for the both of them. It all went as smoothly as it could, especially considering that you all woke up half an hour late because Peter made (and presented) a 59-slide Powerpoint presentation about Europe the night before his flight.

The second Peter passed airport security, he started sending you photos of him hanging out with Ned. You saw the airport, and Europe, through Peter’s eyes. It was like seeing the world painted with brighter and newer colors, but it also could’ve been that hideous filter he puts on all of his photos. Still, you had never seen him so excited to be outside of Queens.

Almost immediately after he got to Europe, Peter’s photos started coming in less frequently, his texts grew shorter, and his voice wavered on the phone. You knew all about the battles against inter-dimensional monsters, the entire world knew. He was undoubtedly tired after such big fights, and you stupidly thought that was the only reason he had been acting differently. You thought he was just tired. You thought he was just busy. You thought he was just having fun. It turns out, you were just plain wrong .

The airport doors slid open, and you saw Peter walk out as he waved goodbye to Ned. Aunt May stood excitedly beside you and waved her homemade sign at Peter who would never need any sign to recognize the two of you. He jogged over, and you rushed to meet him, embracing him in a tight hug. He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck and held you for what felt like an eternity. You rubbed small circles on Peter’s back, beyond relieved to see him again. May walked up and tapped Peter on the shoulder, giving him a playful look that said, “I can’t believe you hugged your significant other before you hugged me.” The two reunited, and May pestered him with a neverending stream of questions. Peter answered each one as vividly as possible, leading you to think that the change that happened while he was in Europe was all in your head.

But when May joked about Peter’s lost luggage, you noticed something. He flinched. For a second, you couldn’t understand why Peter would be so upset about some lost luggage, but then you realized it. He had taken his Uncle Ben’s luggage with him to Europe, one of the last memories he had of Ben, and now it was gone. So though May couldn’t seem to care any less, you acknowledged that grief looked different for everyone.

Admittedly, Ben’s burnt bags weren’t the only thing bothering Peter. He seemed to let his guard down every few minutes, and the exhaustion, sadness, and despair would seep from his wide eyes. Peter didn’t seem to care that you could see, and maybe this was his way of asking you for help. But whenever May would glance at Peter through the rearview mirror, his walls would build right up again– turning him into a hollow, empty puppet with a smile plastered on its face.

The whole ride home, you had to sit there and pretend you couldn’t tell. After May dropped you off at your house, you weren’t sure if you should text Peter or not. You wrote and rewrote a dozen messages to him, but none of them felt right.

“Peter, are you okay?” Nope… too short.

“Hey, Pete do you need to talk? I’m alwa–” Definitely not. Way too direct.

“I noticed you seemed a bit down. Is everything alright?” You sound like May. Ew.

Ultimately, you never sent any of them. As much as you loved Peter and wanted to help him, you knew it wouldn’t do any good to rush him. So, you gave him some space and time.

Shockingly, for the first time since you had gone to pick him up at the airport, Peter asked you to come over. During the past two weeks, you had always been the one to initiate dates or conversations. And even though it felt like Peter had stopped loving you, you persisted, never confusing his pain for the loss of love.

As usual, you and Peter invited May to join in on your movie night. And right on cue– only twenty minutes into the movie –she said she never wanted to watch another Star Wars film again and went to bed, leaving you both alone in the living room. After you finished watching Phantom Menace for the dozenth time, Peter laid out his collection of Star Wars DVDs, trying to decide if he wanted to watch the rest of the prequels or skip to another one of his favorites.

Deep down, you felt like Peter had invited you over for a reason. That his intentions included more than a movie, that it meant he was ready to talk. You leaned down and laid a hand on his shoulder, and he froze, holding A New Hope tightly in his grip.

“Pete… Are you okay?”

He glanced back at you with confusion, “What do you mean? Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I don’t know, Pete. All I know is that you’ve been acting different since you got back from your trip.”

“Why would I be different?” He replied defensively, as though you had offended him. “I mean, i-if anything, you’re the one who’s being different.”

You saw tears well up in his eyes as he turned his back to you. “Peter, please just talk to me. I can tell that something’s off. I’m your girlfriend, for gosh sakes! I can tell! And you might think you have everyone else fooled, but….” You took a second to breathe, “but you can’t fool me.”

He shifted his weight and turned to face you, opening his mouth to speak. Still, nothing came out. Peter looked back at the ground, his silence prompting you to continue.

“I’m not sure if you wanted me to notice– or if you just didn’t care that I noticed –but I noticed. I gave you time, I waited for you to talk to me, and I thought that you inviting me over tonight meant that you were ready to talk.” Tears rolled down your face as you lowered your voice. “I’m sorry for caring, Peter, but I can’t pretend that you’re okay anymore… because you are clearly not okay.”

He fiddled with his hands, still avoiding looking at you. “I just wanted to watch a movie. I-I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, but all I wanted was to watch a movie with my girlfriend a-a-and have a good night….”

Peter’s voice trailed off, and you chimed in. “It’s not just about a movie, Pete. And I can’t let you act like it was ever just about a movie. Let’s just talk for a bit and see what happens. I might not know what happened out there, but the one thing I know is that you’re a hero, Peter. You’re my hero. So please, just tell me what’s bothering you, and then we can move on.”

“Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

“Don’t lie to me, Peter. Something isn’t right and you can’t keep it inside forever.”

“I-It’s really nothing. There’s no use talking about it anyway, it won’t change what happened.”

“That’s a start… What happened then? What’s so bad that you can’t even tell your girlfriend?” He shook his head and you asked again, “Peter, c’mon. You can tell me. What happened?”

“Can you please stop asking?” He played with his fingers, his eyes still fixated on a dent in the floorboard.

“I can’t stop. Because if I stopped, that would mean I stopped loving you. And I don’t think that’ll ever happen. Not in this lifetime.”

Peter looked sadly at you, tears threatened to spill onto his cheeks. “I did everything right. I tried to do everything right. And I still… I messed up so bad. London would still be fine if it wasn’t for me. Did you know that?” He let out a sad, sarcastic chuckle. “London was all my fault.”

“Peter, you saved London. You di–”

Peter cut you off, running his hand through his hair. “I wouldn’t have had to save London if I hadn’t given E.D.I.T.H. to Beck.”

You looked at him in disbelief and it finally hit you how little you knew about the situation. But before Peter could see the shock in your eyes, you changed your expression, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that Quentin tricked me. I-I guess I was so stupid that I let him trick me and I gave E.D.I.T.H. to him and that’s why he was able to attack London. A-and I’m the reason that attack happened in the first place! I’m the reason a hundred people died! I’m the reason th-that Beck almost tricked the whole world! Tony never should’ve given me E.D.I.T.H.… Beck could’ve killed like a million peo–”

“Peter.” You squeezed his shoulder, “You can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t let him kill a million people and now he never will, because you stopped him. Tony gave you E.D.I.T.H. because he trusted you, and he was right to do so. You figured out that Beck was bad before Paranoid Fury even doubted him, just think about that. You figured it out before Paranoid Fury. That’s incredible. And I know you think you don’t deserve E.D.I.T.H., but no one else could have taken down Beck on their own. Not like you did. So, like it or not, you’re kind of the best superhero we’ve got.”

You opened your arms, beckoning for him to sit back on the sofa with you. Peter gave you a teary smile and climbed onto the sofa, leaning into your arms. You cradled his head as he cried into your shoulder, his tears staining your sweater.

“It’s okay, Peter. It’s okay.” For almost ten minutes, he lay in your arms as you repeated the reassuring phrase.

His breathing slowed and his eyes dried once more, though they were still red and puffy. Peter released himself from your embrace and laid across your lap, looking up and into your eyes.

“I gotta go hit the head.”

You looked at Peter with confusion, “I’m sorry, what? Did you really just say ‘hit the head’?”

“What? It’s a totally normal phrase.” He pouted at you.

“Just say you ‘need to go to the bathroom’ like a normal person… Oh m-you totally stole that from Fury or Cap didn’t you? Which one was it?”

Peter suddenly seemed very embarrassed, “Fury…”

“I knew it! Now go to the bathroom, weirdo. I’ll be waiting for you so we can choose our next movie.”

“‘Kay. Be right back”

Peter rushed out and somehow came back from the bathroom within a minute.

“I think I know which movie I wanna watch.” He flashed a shy smile at you.

“I don’t care what you wanna watch unless you washed your hands.”

Peter whined, “But I did wash them.”

“There’s literally no way you washed your hands and went to the bathroom in less than a minute. That would be impossible.”

“I totally did wash my hands, but I guess I could wash them again.”

“Good to hear. So, what movie did you wanna watch, Parker?”

Peter handed you the same A New Hope DVD that he had dropped onto the sofa ten minutes prior. You rolled your eyes at him, holding the movie from the corner using only your pointer and thumb. As a condition, you told him he had to wash his hands in the kitchen sink (so you could watch him) before you would start the movie. After he did his part, you placed the disc into the DVD player and looked back at Peter while you waited for the film to appear onscreen.

“Hey, Peter.” He lifted his head from the sofa’s cushions and propped it up, on one hand, waiting to hear what you had to say. “I know I was just joking around a few minutes ago, but I have to say something serious again. Next time something like this happens, you have to let it out. Whether that means talking to me, May, or Ned, you can’t let this-this darkness eat you up. Because, frankly, there’s a whole lifetime of darkness down the line and that’ll be the case for the rest of eternity. But what always made you different from Bucky, or Tony, or Cap, or any of them, is that you’ve never let yourself get caught up with that ‘darkness’. So don’t give up now. I know it’s a tough fight– well I’ll never know– but still, you can’t let the darkness take your shine away. You are the funniest, most intelligent, and kindest person I’ve ever met. Please, just don’t let anyone or anything ever take that from you.”

You had been staring at the coffee table between you and Peter this whole time and when you tilted your head back up in Peter’s direction, you noticed how shocked he seemed. His mouth hung slightly agape and his eyes maintained a soft gaze as if he was struggling to process this information. Peter sat up and grabbed a pillow from beside him, hugging it tightly to his chest.

“I-I–” Peter was on the verge of saying something but was cut off by the film’s characteristic intro music.

As the movie started, you crawled back up onto the sofa with Peter, and this time you rested your head on the pillow in his lap. You grew tired after the first hour and drifted to sleep, though Peter was still wide awake by the end. He let you sleep comfortably, still resting your head upon his lap as he stroked your cheek. Soon after, Peter dozed off as well, still sitting tall.

The next morning, May saw that you were both still sound asleep and since it was already close to noon, she thought waking you up would be a great idea. She crept up behind the sofa, walking slowly and quietly until she was right behind both of you. May leaned over the sofa, peering down at your sleeping figures, and yelled while waving her arms wildly.

“WAKE UP! THERE’S ALIENS AGAIN! LOKI IS HERE! AAAHHHHH!”

Peter jumped up, knocking May over and dropping you onto the ground where you woke momentarily before closing your eyes and rolling under the coffee table. He turned left and right looking for aliens and destruction, still in a half-asleep daze.

“Where are they!?!” He ran into his room, slamming the door open and throwing his belongings everywhere. “I can’t find my suit! MAYYYYYY! Where– Ohhhhh.”

He calmed down the second he took a look outside, realizing that May had just pranked him. “Haha. Very funny May,” said Peter sarcastically.

He walked back into the living room where May was still sitting on the ground and you had fallen asleep again. May laughed at Peter and gave him a pat on the back as he helped her up.

“I thought that was pretty funny, didn’t you? I mean, definitely not my best work, but not bad for a prank that only took five seconds of planning.”

Sass dripped from Peter’s words, “Mhmm. Sooooo funny, May. That totally wasn’t cruel at all. If I didn’t know any better, I might even say that was borderline emotional abuse.”

“Oh hush, Peter. You know it’s all just jokes and love with me.”

Peter laughed at May and went around to the other side of the couch where he had dropped you on the floor. You were a deep sleeper, both a blessing and a curse in a city that actually got attacked by one of the big three every other week. Peter crouched down, lowering himself onto his hands and knees until he came face to face with you.

He set a hand on your back, shaking you gently. “Hey, sleepyhead. Do you wanna wake up? It’s almost lunchtime… I know how much you love lunch.”

Your eyes opened slowly and a smirk appeared on your lips, “Did you say ‘lunch’?”

You and Peter were getting ready to go out with May for a fun Sunday brunch-lunch. While he and May had inherited some money from Tony, they only let themselves spend it on Sundays. They decided they wanted to try out some weird and somewhat fancy French restaurant in Chelsea and invited you to go along with them. The only problem was that you forgot to pack an overnight bag and had nothing to change into.

“Uhhhh, Peter. You wouldn’t happen to have any extra clothes lying around that I could borrow? Maybe, just like for today? Pants and a shirt would work just fine, like literally anything.”

“I have to-uhhhh I have to check. Yeah. I have to check… Just give me a minute here.” Peter started pacing around his room, digging through piles of unfolded laundry. “Change of plans, I’m gonna check with May. I can’t seem to find anything nice.”

As Peter walked out of the room he placed his cell phone on his bedside table. A horrible idea flashed through your mind and before you could think it through, you already had Peter’s phone in your hands. You racked your brain trying to remember his passcode until you remembered what a fanboy he was. The passcode was 1999, the year The Phantom Menace came out. And while you didn’t agree that it was the best of the Star Wars movies, you let him think that you did.

You scrolled through Peter’s contacts, looking for Happy Hogan, but unfortunately, he had replaced everyone’s names with emojis. Basically, he had made it impossible for anyone other than him to access his contacts list. Remembering that the text app would let you search for keywords from old conversations, you typed in “Hi, Happy. It’s Peter.” knowing that there was an extremely high chance that Peter had sent his first text to Happy in that format. Just as you had suspected, one conversation appeared. The contact name had a smiling emoji followed by a little house and a wrestler. You clicked on the contact info and it displayed Happy’s phone number. Grabbing your own phone from your pocket, you copied down the number before exiting out of the text app and placing Peter’s phone exactly where it had been before.

You sat down on Peter’s bed, surrounded by his laundry, and waited for him to return. While you waited, you started drafting a message to Happy.

“Hey, Happy… it’s me, Peter’s girlfriend. I kinda need a favor so if you could maybe give me a call sometime that would be really great. Thanks!” It looked and sounded horrible, but frankly, it was the only thing you could come up with.

Four days later, Happy called you, and he wasn’t very happy about it.

“Okay, kid. What do you want? And make it quick because Pepper’s got me working way more than I get paid for.”

Despite your preparation, your anxiety got the best of you when you realized you would actually have to speak with Happy. “Oh, um hi Mr. Happy. So basically I need your help to surprise Peter–”

Happy interrupted you, “What? Why do you need my help?”

“Well, you see, Peter lost his uncle Ben’s luggage when he went to Europe, and Peter has a very strong emotional connection to the bag because Ben is dead. Oh gosh, that sounded really bad. But what I’m trying to say is that I need your help to recreate uncle Ben’s bag so I can surprise Peter for his birthday!”

“That’s it? You could’ve just texted me and I would already have the bag in production. Geez. I’ll see if I can find any photos of the bag in the Stark Database, but send me over what you have to speed things up, alright? Talk to ya later, kid.”

He had hung up before you could even thank him. His bluntness made sense considering he had a lot on his plate, grief included, so you decided to find as many photos of Ben’s luggage as you could to make his job easier. You texted May asking about the bag, saying that you were just curious, and omitted your secret. To your surprise, May actually had detailed photos of the bag from when Ben bought it to take on their honeymoon. You thanked her repeatedly and immediately sent the photos to Happy who merely replied with a thumbs-up emoji.

August tenth approached quickly and before you knew it, Peter’s birthday was there. Happy had someone drop off the replica at your apartment and you were suddenly very thankful that Peter was too busy to randomly swing by anymore. Whoever wrapped the suitcase made sure that it was very obviously a suitcase, they even wrapped the handle separately from the rest of the bag. Who even does that?

You hauled the luggage up the steep stairs leading up to your apartment, wondering why Peter would take such an inconvenient item with him. Then, it hit you again. First, he’s Spider-Man so the bag probably felt light as a feather to him. And second, emotions influence people into making weird decisions. You ran to unwrap it as soon as you shut your front door. Ripping off the thick brown paper, the luggage’s natural, and beautiful, navy blue shone through. You marveled at the leatherwork and the shiny “B.F.P.” embossed between the buckles. This bag was something you had seen time and time again at Peter’s apartment, yet it wasn’t until now that you realized just how beautiful it was.

After heading out to a local craft store to get some nicer wrapping paper and a real box, you returned home to wrap up Peter’s present. Despite your best efforts to not wrap his present up the same way as the idiot who wrapped it the first time, your wrapping job ended up looking minimally better. The only redeeming part was the wrapping paper. Unfortunately, you had mismeasured and just the handle did not fit into the box, sticking out ever so slightly and creating a noticeable lump in the wrapping paper. You brainstormed for nearly an hour, testing out a dozen different ideas before you realized what you needed, was a bow. You returned to the craft store, digging through bins of bows, ribbons, and yarns until you found a giant blue bow made of at least thirty thin ribbons. The finishing touch fixed all of your worries and made Peter’s present look like a really showy box, which was exactly what you were going for.

On the day of Peter’s birthday party, you had to drag his huge gift box across five blocks, through two line changes, and in the dark. Peter decided that since he was turning 17, though he would have been 22 if he hadn’t blipped, he deserved a “big boy” party, and apparently, that meant having a party at night time. By the time you arrived at Avenger’s Tower, where he said would “be the absolute best spot to have a birthday bash”, the bottom of the wrapping paper had gotten ripped off and only the cardboard remained. For a split second, you wished that you had kept the bag’s handle outside of the wrapping paper, but ultimately, you knew that wrapping it the way you did would make surprising Peter much more fun.

You took the elevator up to one of the top floors, accompanied by Ned and Bruce Banner. The entire ride up, not a single word was spoken, and the corny elevator music served only to intensify the awkwardness. The three of you rushed out when the doors opened, not even waiting for the elevator voice to finish telling you what floor you were on. Banner went straight to the sofa area where Thor and Valkyrie were talking. You and Ned, however, teamed up to look for Peter.

“So, uh, what’s in the box?” Ned pointed to the present you were dragging across the smooth tile.

“It’s just Peter’s present.”

“Well, yeah. I know that, but like,” Ned lowered his voice and covered his mouth, “what’s in it?”

“It’s a surprise, Ned. I can’t tell you because then you’ll just tell Peter and then it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

“Ooohhhh, gotcha. Gotcha. Surprise, huh? Are you sure you can’t tell me? I promise I won’t tell Peter.”

You looked at Ned, “I’m sure, Ned. Now help me figure out where to put this box, it’s kinda heavy and I don’t like lugging it around.”

Ned helped you with the box, carrying both his and your presents until you came across the present table. May was in charge of the table and took the presents gladly.

“Hi, May! Have you seen Peter around?” You asked her.

“Sorry kiddos, I haven’t seen him since Thor got here. Did you check the lounge area? That’s where Thor always hangs out so he might still be over there.”

Ned chimed in this time, “Nah, he’s not there. Mr. Thor was though. I’m sure we’ll find him later. Thanks, Ms. Parker!”

The two of you left May at the table, looking all over for Peter. Finally, you found him on the upper level of the room talking to Shuri. He waved at you and Ned to join him, motioning to the stairs to his left.

You started a conversation as you climbed the stairs, “Hey, Pete! Hey, Shuri! How are y’all doing?”

“Good! Hurry up or you’ll miss the fireworks,” Shuri urged you and Ned to hurry up.

Peter turned to Shuri and rolled his eyes, “Dude! You weren’t supposed to tell them, I wanted them to think it was a surprise, not that we planned it!”

Ned chimed in, “What? Did you want us to think you had a secret admirer? Because we all know that Flash is your only admirer.”

You high-fived Ned for his great comeback, though you couldn’t help but correct him. “Excuse me, but I like to consider myself the best Peter Parker admirer. Flash is only a Spidey admirer. There’s a difference!”

The four of you hung out on the balcony for the rest of the night, occasionally chatting with other Avengers or friends that happened to pass along. You could tell that Peter and Ned were missing MJ at the party, but her parents had decided to move to a more rural area immediately after the trip, making it near impossible for her to come to the party. Still, along with Shuri’s help, you were able to keep Ned and Peter happy and entertained until it was time for cake and presents.

Everyone gathered around the long, glass table with Peter sitting at the very front. You and Ned each stood on either side of him, while May stood immediately behind him. Barton walked into the room carrying a large, two-tiered cake that was decorated like Tony’s arc reactor. Peter had asked for it specifically, as one last tribute to Tony. Originally, Scott had offered to bake the cake, claiming that baking was one of the many talents he acquired while on house arrest. It turned out, that Scott only thought he was a good baker because he was the only one eating his treats and had grown accustomed to the bad tastes and textures. Luckily, May had asked Scott to bring her a sample a week before the party, so we still had enough time to ask Clint’s wife to help us instead.

Sam lit the seventeen candles on the cake quickly, only stopping when Bucky added an eighteenth candle for “good luck”. Leading the awkward celebration, Scott began singing “Happy Birthday”; the other Avengers followed awkwardly. Thor sang louder than everyone else despite not knowing the lyrics, and Shuri joined him. Barton, Fury, Hill, and Bucky all stood awkwardly while lipsyncing the words. You, May, Sam, Ned, Bruce, Hope, Happy, Pepper, Morgan, and Strange were the only ones singing normally, though normal was never a great descriptor for any of Peter’s “coworkers”. Peter blew out his candles shyly as the song came to a close and muttered “thank you” under his breath when he realized they hadn’t put trick candles on his cake this time.

Thor’s booming voice cut through the chatter, “Well, Midguardian, when can we see these gifts of yours? I am quite interested in knowing what marvels lie on that table.”

“Oh. Ummm. Sorry, Mr. Thor, I wasn’t really planning on opening those at the party. It was going to be more of a private thing… like just me.”

“Nonsense, young one! You should open them all here. In front of your friends! We will not judge if you receive odd gifts, why that only makes it more exciting!”

Peter looked anxiously between you, Ned, and Shuri, trying to see if any of you had gotten him embarrassing gifts that might require privacy. Ned and Shuri shook their heads reassuringly, and although your gift was not embarrassing, you weren’t sure it warranted an audience.

You leaned down to Peter’s ear and whispered to him, “My present isn’t really embarrassing or inappropriate or anything, but it’s a bit special. So, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna take it off the table and hide it so Thor doesn’t make you open it. Is that alright?”

Peter looked up at you, grabbing your hand, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. To be honest, I don’t feel like opening any of them in front of a crowd. But go do what you have to, I’ll keep him distracted for a minute.”

You thanked Peter and slipped away. As you were walking towards the gift table you heard Peter yelling something about cake, followed by Thor, Scott, and Sam cheering. Whatever it was, it was probably going to distract them for longer than you needed. You dug around looking for your box, finding it hidden under a dozen gift bags. Carefully, you moved each gift bag to the side until you could pull the box from the pile. You fixed the table, leaving it almost the same as you had found it, and looked around for a place to hide your present. Towards the end of the hallway, you found the perfect hiding spot beneath a wide leather chair. You hid the box and returned quickly to the party, hoping that no one noticed your absence.

After everyone had gone home, and May had fallen asleep on Thor’s favorite sofa, you finally gave Peter his present. He ripped the torn, dusty, and grimy wrapping paper away from the gift, pulling chunks of the cardboard box along with it.

The second he laid eyes on the dark blue leather and brown handle, he knew what you had gotten him. “Oh my… No way…”

Peter didn’t even wait to finish opening the present before pulling you into a warm embrace. He hugged you tightly and you felt a tear hit your back.

“I’m really hoping those are happy tears.”

Peter pulled back, placing his hands on your shoulders, “Definitely happy tears.”

“Good, because I really wasn’t planning on this being a sad moment.”

“How? W-How did you even get this? I thought I had lost it, or-or gotten it blown up! Oh my gosh… I-I still can’t believe this. Thank you so much! Really. Thank you.” Peter released his grip on your shoulders, moving his hands up slowly until they cupped your face. He looked solemnly into your eyes, waiting for a look of agreement, before kissing you softly.

“You’re welcome, Pete. But just so you know, it's just a replica. I'm not quite sure what happened to the real bag… you should thank Happy too, he helped me figure this all out.”

“I’ll definitely thank him later. But seriously, this might be one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten.”

You smiled at his giddiness and joked, “I would hope so, I’m the one who gave it to you!”

“I don’t want to get all sappy, but thank you for not letting the darkness get to me. If it hadn’t been for your little pep-talk, I might still be letting that darkness eat at me, and I’m guessing that wouldn’t be great. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. No matter how much bad there is down the line, I don’t ever wanna feel like that again. I love you so much, and I’m so thankful that you’re in my life. I mean it.”

“I know, and I love you too, I love you through the Blip and back.”

{can someone lmk if this story is any good? I’m having some doubts 😭}

#tom holland peter parker #peter parker #spiderman #spider man #MCU #marvel #avengers #cute peter parker #fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #spider man fanfiction #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #wholesome

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years ago

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Yanois - Second Impressions Can Bring Misfortune

Read Part One here, or check it out on AO3!

Though their first meeting could have gone better, Illinois might be a little fond of the mystery prisoner. Let’s just hope his famous luck doesn’t run out…

Warning: There is an instance of deadnaming under the read-more. It’s accidental, but be mindful if that might cause a little upset. (I promise this doesn’t end on a bad note)

Word Count: 2,448 (sorry, it’s four hand-written pages)

After his encounter with the brash prisoner, Illinois found he couldn’t get the other man out of his head. It was hardly an attraction (no, shut up! It wasn’t!), but he accepted that there was a level of interest in the unknown. Perhaps it was the prisoner’s standoffish attitude, or how he seemed utterly disinterested yet keenly focused. He didn’t heckle during the lecture, so he wasn’t there for the sole purpose of causing trouble.

But the question that plagued Illinois was painfully simple: what was the prisoner’s name? He hated how badly he wanted to know. Ah, the curse of the archaeologist - insatiable curiosity! With no starting point, Illinois took inspiration from his work and fetched his laptop to start the research.

Most prisoners were from Texas, but not all. The stranger’s accent suggested he was potentially from New York, so Illinois decided to sieve through articles that made reference to a transferral to a Texan prison first. His abundance of good luck meant that it only took an hour to find a result that was most fitting. The article was several years old and discussed the outcome of a rather tragic case. The information was put to the back of his mind - Warden Murderslaughter always said to never talk about an inmate’s crime unless they bring it up first - as Illinois instead took the important information. The photograph used of the criminal was old, but it matched. Which meant… He had a name! All he had to do was wait until the next time he was set to visit Happy Trails Penitentiary.

As luck would have it, he merely had to wait a week. When he wasn’t travelling as part of archaeological trips, Illinois would volunteer two Saturdays a month to teach the inmates. Unlike his history lectures, these consisted of smaller groups of prisoners undertaking a short course on several points in history; which would be rounded off with each prisoner completing a short research project on something that interested them in the course. All he needed was to put his possessions in the room he used for classes, and then he would be free to find the right prisoner if he arrived earlier than usual. The inmates followed a set schedule with minor variations depending on when their work shifts were. He had been volunteering long enough to know when one of the crossover periods would take place. It would be easy to find him!

The rec yard was fruitless, as was the library. But it was upon leaving the chow hall that Illinois spotted the man of the hour. He seemed in a hurry as the prisoner dashed toward the hall.

“Ah! Can I have a moment?” Illinois called out. The tattooed man screeched to a halt, bemused once he realised who wanted his attention. Unfortunately, no one else was around, so it had to be him.

“Sure. Fine. What?” His eyes didn’t stay on Illinois, but instead darted to the clock.

“I know this is likely a bad time, but I’d like a chance to talk. We got off on the wrong foot last time.” Even Illinois knew it didn’t go well. “Are you free after your shift?”

“U-uh…. Yeah?” Thrown by the turn of events, it appeared the bold prisoner was willing to cooperate. “I know I’d never hear the end of it if my friends heard I refused. They’s is always singing youse’s praises. ‘Sides, second chances is always a good thing, right?” He looked as though he was about to say something else, but decided against it. Regardless, Illinois was elated.

“Excellent! In that case, I’ll be in the classroom just opposite the library until seven this evening. Call by when you’re free. Even if there’s a class going on, sit in on it anyway.” The prisoner nodded and hurried past once he knew he was dismissed. Before the other disappeared into the chow hall, Illinois belatedly realised he should be more polite about this. He guessed the other might be swallowing his pride in accepting the invitation to chat, given their first meeting. The least he could do was show some manners.

“Thank you! I look forward to chatting, █████!”

Whatever progress had been made was instantly thrown aside. The prisoner froze in the doorway. Though his back was to Illinois, the archaeologist could see that the other was rigid. It wasn’t a reaction Illinois associated with hearing one’s own name…. Unless it was a name they didn’t use anymore.

“O-oh my God, I’m so sorry, I had no -” For once, Illinois found himself stammering in a frantic attempt to get an apology out. It was to no avail, as a fistful of his shirt had been grabbed and he was slammed against the wall.

“I don’t know what sorta shit game youse is playing,” the prisoner hissed, “But if youse is gonna act like youse is better than me by being such a sly bitch…. I really wanna beat the shit outta youse, but I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“Yancy! That’s enough!” The prisoner - Yancy? - dropped Illinois without hesitation and didn’t struggle when two guards rushed over and restrained him. “Bring him into th’ chow hall to calm down. I’ll speak to him in a sec. As fer you…” Yancy was led away by the guards, and it was hard to ignore how withdrawn he seemed compared to minutes earlier. With heavy guilt, Illinois pulled his attention away to finally acknowledge Warden Murderslaughter, who had been the one to stop the disaster in its tracks. His lips were pursed and his arms crossed as he shook his head. “I’m disappointed in you, Illinois. Out of all our volunteers, I thought you would’ve known our most important rule better than anyone else: don’t provoke th’ inmates with topics that are touchy fer ‘em.”

“But I didn’t know -” Illinois’ head turned toward the chow hall’s entrance. “I only wanted to get to know him. I didn’t mean to…”

“Who told you that name?”

“No one?” He looked back at the Warden with confusion. “I read it in an article covering the trial online.” The Warden pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

“Son… You could’ve saved yourself a whole lotta bother if you’d thought to ask someone here, even over the phone. It isn’t like you to mess up like this.” He put an arm around Illinois’ shoulder and began guiding him toward the staff breakroom. “The name you used is correct, if you go by legal documents or the press, but it’s not the name he goes by. Everyone calls him ‘Yancy’. See, his birth name has links to pretty painful memories that I don’t think he’ll ever recover from, and he’s been striving to prove he’s a better person as ‘Yancy’. So to turn ‘round and use th’ wrong name is like a slap to the face and a surefire way for him to hate you. Now, I know you had good intentions and it was an honest mistake, but you need to be more careful. Next time you see him, give him a good, proper apology. Just know he’s probably gonna be frosty toward ya. I’ll go talk to him and check if he’s okay, let him know you didn't mean to use the wrong name.” The Warden threw a glance over his shoulder with a hint of a smile. “Yancy’s a good kid, despite how he acts sometimes. He’s been through some rough times, but his heart’s stayed in the right place. If he can have a friend outside the prison… I think it’ll do him some good. Now, get yourrself a coffee before you start classes.”

Illinois blinked, genuinely surprised to realise they had arrived. Murderslaughter gave him a hearty slap on the back of the shoulder (Illinois had learned long ago the art of hiding the wince from the strength of such actions) before making his way back to the chow hall.

---

In the chow hall, Yancy was a mess. He sat far away from anyone else who might have been there. A cup of water had been given to him, but it was used more as a stress ball rather than a drink. He didn’t know what to think. How could someone act like they wanted to be a friend, then turn around in the same breath and say something that implied the complete opposite? Why remind him of what he did long ago? The cup was put aside so he could slump across the table with a defeated groan. █████… Was that all he was ever going to be to the outside world? Would the attempts he has made to be a better person forever go unnoticed under the large, looming shadow of his crimes? Then again, prisoners like him were locked away to be forgotten about by the world.

His form tensed the moment he spotted the Warden sitting opposite him. This was it - he was going to be scolded and sent to Solitary, and probably lose other privileges on top of that. How dare Yancy lay a finger on the visitor everyone worshipped!!

But it was nothing like that. Murderslaughter checked if he was okay. They sat in silence for a few moments so Yancy could try and collect himself without anyone else approaching. Then, the Warden praised him for not completely lashing out, but then took time to explain Illinois’ side of things.

“- He’s not like the reporters or anyone else who comes to ‘visit’ you. He was a moron who didn’t ask th’ staff for your name. It seems like he wants to try an’ be friends…. But it’s fine if ya don’t wanna see him today. An’ if you’d rather go lie down instead of working, that’s fine too.

“N-no… I’d rather work. Don’t really wanna be left alone with my thoughts just yet.”

Yancy spent the rest of the morning washing dishes. The work wasn’t ‘busy’ enough to keep his mind distracted, but it was labour-intensive and he could work out his frustration on the crockery. By the time he finished his shift and lunch, he returned to his cell with an idea - he needed to get rid of the White Jaguar model. It had to be the source of the blame.

But just like a blasted boomerang, the clay figure kept returning to him in ridiculous manners throughout the afternoon. Yancy dropped it in the trash on the way outside, only to be tapped on the shoulder by another prisoner who thought it was dropped by mistake. Trying to gift it to anyone in the Gang had them refuse - Bam-Bam had initially accepted, but changed his mind when he held the tiny model and handed it back to Yancy with the excuse that it ‘belonged’ to him. He then hid it in the long grass in the rec yard. When no one immediately found it, he went to the bathroom, returned to his cell… And was greeted with the terrifying sight of the White Jaguar sitting on his pillow, staring at him. Overcome with frustration, he decided to simply break it. He threw it at the wall with all his might. Instead of smashing, it ricocheted off the wall and toppled his radio that had been on his bed, before landing neatly on the pillow. Yancy picked it up, he swore there was a look of smugness on the Jaguar’s face, which reminded him of… Wait.

He could simply return it to Illinois and ask him never to speak to Yancy again. It would solve two problems at once.

---

“Come in!” Illinois’ voice was upbeat as he tidied the classroom after a day of workshops. The guilt from earlier had been put aside in favour of professionalism. He did have a reputation to uphold, after all. However, that professionalism immediately slipped the moment he saw who entered.

“Yancy!” The name was blurted out with relief more than pleasantry. Whatever Illinois had been putting into his briefcase was unceremoniously dumped as he gave Yancy his full attention. “Before you say anything…. I want to apologise for this morning. I made the mistake of not checking with the staff what name you prefer to go by. It was careless of me. I know I upset you, and I am truly sorry. You don’t need to forgive me, as I know it’s something that hurt you… But I just want you to know I didn’t mean to use that name, and I’ll never use it again, Yancy.”

Yancy was dumbfounded. No one who deliberately used that name apologised. They never cared that it made him uncomfortable and upset. Emotions stung him for the second time that day, but polar opposites to the anger that had nearly consumed him in the morning.

“I-I, uh… Thanks. For apologising, I mean. Takes balls to admit youse was wrong ‘bout something. But it means a lot that, y’know, youse said sorry. So… If it’s okay with youse, we can consider it forgiven and forgotten.” Yancy looked ill at ease, but Illinois couldn’t blame him. It would be better to find a new topic to talk about before Yancy decided to swiftly dismiss himself. At that moment, Yancy adjusted his stance, drawing Illinois’ attention to his hand.

“Is that the White Jaguar model I gave you?”

Yancy blinked and looked at his hand like he didn’t know it had existed until that very moment. He opened his mouth, only to snap it shut with a quick shake of his head. When he did speak again, there was the faintest hint of a smile.

“Yeah, uh… Had a few people asking ‘bout it, but I don’t remember shit from that talk so… Is it too late to join one of these class things you is doing?” Yancy mentally slapped himself for doing the opposite of what he had intended, but it wasn’t met with a cocky reaction. Instead, Illinois’ face lit up like the Fourth of July and invited Yancy to the desk so they could check if there was a class that would fit neatly into Yancy’s schedule. There was a hint of awkwardness between them, but Illinois was optimistic that this could be the start of a better chapter for them.

However, he did get a little ahead of himself and winked at Yancy just before the prisoner left. Yancy rolled his eyes, but the dismissive look had a trace of amusement in it as he left. Once the door closed, Illinois found himself staring at it for several long moments.

Okay… Maybe there was a bit of an attraction toward Yancy after all.

#yanois #deadname tw #illinois ahwm #ahwm yancy #yancy x illinois #writersofmark #cocky adventurer (Illinois)#dramatic prisoner (Yancy)#(I... Think I'm getting a little better at writing Illinois?)

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oneoftheextras · 4 years ago

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jealousy | villain aizawa x hero reader | one

masterlist | tip jar

prompt: Yandere Villain Aizawa x Female reader. Former student of his turned pro hero, he’s always had eyes for her at UA but never acted upon it. Once she graduates, she takes a role at Endeavor’s agency, and Aizawa can’t stand the thought.

A/N: I’m gunna be honest with you, I can’t stop thinking about this one, and I really shouldn’t be making another series but I NEED this. It’s going to be filled with sooo much 18+ bullshit, I’ll put warnings for each specific chapter at the beginning of each one so you’ll know whats coming. I love love LOVE Villain Aizawa.

words: 1.7k

warnings: for this chapter, just violence, and swearing

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

The black mass flew over head, jumping from one roof to another, if you weren’t sure what you were looking for you would have missed it, but you knew it was him. Climbing the fire escape of one of the buildings, you followed quietly in pursuit, hopping over the large gap between the roofs.

For six months pro heroes from your team had failed to come back from a mission, or came back so badly beaten that they could no longer work as a hero, all of them were chasing the same villain.

Spotting the shadow up ahead stop, you dashed behind a low brick wall, you were sure he didn’t spot you. Listening carefully, you heard a thump in the distance indicating that he’d jumped onto the next roof. You continued to trail him.

Every time another hero came back injured you begged your boss, Enji Todoroki or Endeavour as the public knew him, to let you go after the villain yourself - he always said no. Apparently, you were too valuable to him, too special, too new, to hunt down such a vicious villain.

Peering around the corner of the wall, you continued your silent sprint and leapt across the next building, you were still on his tail - far enough behind for him not to hear you but close enough for you to follow.

When the last hero Ending was delivered to the agencies doorstep with a message branded in his chest, ‘Bring me what is mine’, you knew you couldn’t just stand by and watch, not when you knew so much about the villain and his power.

He was your teacher during your time at UA after all.

Speeding up, you were only one roof behind him, but he seemed to jump off the edge and out of your line of sight. Cursing, you closed the gap and ran to the edge, cautiously you glanced over. If he had really jumped he would still be falling, or climbing down the fire escape, but it was empty. As you had guessed.

The gravel crunched against the roof tiling behind you, you had to admit, he was clever and fast. Lifting your head in acknowledgement you spoke, not needing to turn around “You’re a hard man to find Eraserhead”, he blew air out of his nose in an almost silent chuckle.

“That is the point” his emphasis on ‘is’, it had been 3 years since you last heard his voice, it was at your graduation from UA High, when he was a kind hero. You would be lying if you said his commanding voice didn’t hold power over you the way it did when you were his student.

“But I managed it” you commented cockily, slowly and cautiously turning on the spot to face him, “Because I let you” he said back. Why would he let you find him? When he had tried so hard to stick to the shadows.

Your heart back flipped when you finally saw him, he hadn’t changed at all, even his hero- well villain- suit was exactly the same, black overalls, yellow goggles and his grey capture weapon. His face still held the scruffy stubble he refused to shave and the scar under his eye he acquired trying to save your class.

On the other hand, you had grown immensely both mentally and physically, you wondered how much you had changed for him.

Especially considering when a hero burst through the agency doors talking about a villain that could erase quirks along with a physical description, you knew you would have to rely on your combat training and physical strength rather than your quirk. You’d been training ever since.

“Look at what you’ve become, and to think there was a time when I called you Sensei” you spat, raising your fists ready for a fight, it was impossible to not let your memories and emotions take hold of you, and that was probably why Endeavour never let you go after him.

“Things change, people change” Eraserhead shrugged, seemingly unphased by your shift to a hostile stance, he began to stroll and circle you, he was being arrogant as though you wouldn’t be a challenge to him.

Which used to be true, he was years older and more experienced, as well as being physically stronger too. But he knew how to get into someone’s head.

“But you can still call me Sensei” he smirked, reaching up to take off his goggles. The look of surprise and confusion on your face must have been obvious because you heard a deep chuckle rumble out of him.

His tone was so different and so unlike the man you knew, you started to doubt how well you could fight him, “You’ve killed people! Innocent people!” you shouted at him, stepping forward, you had to get your emotions under control.

“Those people are not innocent” he shook his head, letting his goggles fall loose around his neck, you locked eyes, they felt so familiar but so distant as well.

This was the man who taught you, tutored you, helped you get back up again when you fell, and he had a huge part in moulding you into the woman you were today. It was heart breaking to see selfishness and greed consume him.

Overcome with emotion, you pushed yourself forward and attempted to use your quirk by extending your dominant hand towards him. Nothing happens. You stare down at your outstretch palm in confusion.

“Seriously?” he raised his eyebrow, his eyes were glowing red and his hair was flying high above his amused face. The one thing you had to remember, and you’d forgotten it.

In your frustration, you threw your other fist towards his head hoping to land a punch, but it was stopped midair, you watched his capture weapon curl around your closed fist and your wrist.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Eraserhead’s hair droop down for a moment, you took the opportunity to shoot a ball of purple fire at the man and hurriedly tried to untie your fist.

With little to no effort he hopped out of the way and sent his capture weapon onto your other hand, binding the two together. “Is this really how Endeavour’s been mentoring you?” he scoffed, which just made you even more frustrated.

You needed to think “All the trouble I went through to make you a good hero, and he’s undone everything in just a few years” he shook his head disapprovingly, he expected you to be weak, so you would play weak.

Trying to pull your hands apart, you pretend to struggle more than you actually were, making sure to fake a panicked look on your face. He smiled and tightened his grip on the capture weapon, pulling you forward slightly.

Seeing the opening, you moved forward with is pull and purposely fell to the floor, making sure you landed on your knees, the impact was rough and hurt so naturally you cried out at the sudden pain.

He was eating up every minute of it, in all his years of being your homeroom teacher, you had never seen such a wide smile and gleeful look on his face.

“I really expected more from you” he tutted, walking closer to you and reeling the capture weapon in like a fishing line to keep it nice and tight but closing the proximity between you.

Making your chest rise and fall harshly to make it seem like you were out of breath, you let him get closer.

Tugging on the capture weapon, he made your hands fly up above your head and towards him, the make-shift leash he’d created now so short he may as well have been holding your wrists together himself. As he pulled on the bindings you allowed yourself to rise as well, staying on your knees but staying tall, making it seem like he had all the control.

You waited patiently for the right moment, staring up at him and watching his every move, trying to predict it before it got you killed.

For a moment he dropped his guard, truly believing that he had already won, you shot your leg out to the side and used your thigh muscle to push your other leg onto its foot and spun as quickly as you could.

Your outstretched leg connected with his and knocked him off his feet, you had never moved that quickly in combat practice. The impact of him hitting the floor loosened his grip on the capture weapon, allowing you some movement, you yanked on it as hard as you could to free your hands, but to no avail.

He was faster than you’d ever seen him, he was already back up onto his feet and chuckling, why was he chuckling?

Not giving him time to react, you swung your leg upwards, making sure the bottom of your shoe connected with his weapon and you forced your leg downwards in an attempt to throw him off balance.

But nothing happened.

Shifting your eye-line from the fabric laying flat on the floor to where you thought he was standing, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had he ran? All that was left was his capture weapon in a bundle on the floor.

Hearing a noise behind you, you spun around to hopefully find him, but again there was nothing there.

What you didn’t notice was that all the spinning had wrapped the fabric around your arms and torso too, without your hands you tried to shrug it off of you and wiggle free but as soon as you did it got instantly tighter making you gasp.

“I really thought I taught you better” you heard from behind you, and all of a sudden you felt his arm wrap around you. You fought against his grip but the pressure of the capture weapon against your lungs was making you lightheaded, you couldn’t breathe.

“You’re a murderer” your voice strained out, you were starting to see specks of white in your vision, you had to do something and now if you wanted to get out.

You threw your head backwards in a final attempt at escape, you felt the back of your skull connect with something and a distant shout of pain, but your ears were ringing and your vision was fogged by white clouds.

Feeling your head become weightless and your eyelids flutter closed, your muscles relaxed. You couldn’t fight anymore.

Taglist:

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest

#aizawa x reader #villain aizawa #villain aizawa x reader #villain!aizawa x reader #hero!reader #jealousy #jealousy part 1

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wyofabdoms · 4 years ago

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Undercover I Do -Chapter 10

Characters: Javier Peña x female reader

Summary: While on an undercover assignment posing as a married couple, you are attacked and nearly assaulted. Upon waking, all you remember about Javier Peña is what you remembering seeing from two photographs of the two of you posing as the happily married couple. As you struggle to regain your memories, Javi struggles with his own feelings for you.

Rating: Mature (Eventual smut)

Chapter Warnings: mention of attempted sexual assault, angst, soft Javi, swearing, mentions of alcohol, brief mention of prostitution

Word Count: 2630

Notes: Javi and Dixon have a heart to heart...and Dixon gives Javi some bad news. Then Javi has to face you after avoiding you since the shower incident the day before.

Read on Ao3

Javi had not set foot in her apartment since the afternoon in the shower. He had crashed in his upstairs apartment the night that it had happened, calling the apartment phone and quickly explaining that something had come up at work and he wouldn’t be home; he would be pulling an all nighter. He had gotten off the phone with her as fast as he could, but he could still hear the hurt in her voice as he practically threw the phone into its cradle.

He had tossed and turned restlessly before giving up on sleep all together and had once more done the only thing he considered himself good at: he’d gone to work. He had considered for half a moment seeking out some relief from one of the willing women he knew would answer his call, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick up the receiver. So he had thrown himself into the endless sea of writing reports, reading reports, copying reports, translating reports. Midway through the day he’d hit a wall and had fallen into a rumpled sleep on the couch in his office. He had been fighting against a panicked dream where he was running through an endless hallway of doors, trying to find the one behind which his partner’s screams of terror were coming from, when he was jolted awake by Dixon roughly shaking his shoulder.

The older woman assessed his haggard appearance, his hollow face and the dark circles under his eyes, the sadness in his gaze and the bloody knuckles of his hand that he had sloppily tried to bandage. She listened to him carefully, without saying anything as he candidly explained each and every thing that had happened over the last several days. Her eyes momentarily sparked when he told her about his partner’s attempts at initiating sex, but he thought he may have seen just the tiniest glimmer of approval as he followed up each intimate description with an explanation of his refusals. When he had gotten her up to speed with the incident in the shower and tactics of avoidance the night before, he waited silently for her to speak; to tell him what to do next.

She sat in silence for a long time, gazing at the carpet before her. Javi started to become uncomfortable with the ensuing silence and his fingers had begun to fidget when she finally spoke.

“I don’t think it’s much of a secret that I don’t think much of your reputation outside of this office, Agent Peña,” she began bluntly. He flinched a little at that, not sure where this was going. He nodded slightly, acknowledging what his boss was saying. She continued: “And I know that early on you had your sights set on her. It would have muddied your work relationship for sure and I think everyone could see from the start that the two of you together professionally was like partnership gold. In all fairness you should perhaps know that I advised her against any kind of fraternization with you…quite adamantly, in fact, and several times.” Javi straightened, his brows knitting together. “Oh yes,” she nodded when she saw his face. “Your partner wasn’t always as resolved in rebuffing your advances as it might have seemed. But…” Her voice faded for a moment and she seemed to be gazing into a memory for a moment before her eyes hardened and settled back on him. “I also know that you understand better than anyone that the work...the work is what matters down here. That is our priority. I couldn’t risk her...or you...either of you...becoming too attached to one another outside the normal partner relationship. This hasn’t been easy on any of us, these last few weeks; everybody playing a big game of pretend everyday. No one has had to play it as much as you, though. And I want to say that it speaks highly of you, Peña, the way you’ve conducted yourself through all of this.”

He made a face at that, remembering how badly he had wanted to give in to his temptations at the slightest touch of her skin on his, the feel of her warm breath on his neck as they woke up warm and tangled together in the mornings, how he had listened to her breathing softly in her sleep in the dark while he stroked strands of her hair between his fingers. Dixon waved her hand and continued.

“Despite what you may think, it’s admirable. You’re good at what you do, Peña.” She sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor once more and it was a long time before she spoke again.

“All that being said, in light of what you’ve shared with me, perhaps what I’m about to say is for the best.” Javi felt his stomach clench and knew that he wasn’t going to like what she said next. Her voice was softer when she finally spoke.

“I’ve spoken to the ambassador. He doesn’t like the idea of an agent with only partial faculties being so closely in the mix down here…” Her voice trailed off and it took Javi a moment to realize what she was telling him.

“Wait...What? Are you telling me he doesn’t want her down here anymore?” When Dixon didn’t speak but merely looked at him sadly, he vaulted to his feet. “What the fuck? No fuckin’ way, Dixon! You just want to send her home?”

“I don’t want to send her anywhere. This isn’t about what I wa-”

“The hell it isn’t! You can’t do this, Dixon! You can’t just cut her loose like this. It would be different if she had done something that warranted her getting sent home…” His voice trailed off as he almost said: like I did. He was fuming now and he began to pace. “This isn’t her fault. She just needs a little more time. She’s getting some memories back, she is, they’re just taking a while. Her doctor said he thinks they’re just repressed because Ortiz…” he couldn’t bring him to verbalize what Ortiz had tried to do. “...because he scared her.” He plowed ahead. “They’re talking about trying some hypnotherapy soon. I know it sounds crazy but he says there have been some really good cases that have had success with it.”

“I know. I know all of that, Agent Peña. I get the briefings on her everyday same as you. The ambassador is not inclined to spend taxpayers money to pay for her treatments anymore when they can just get someone new in here to take her place.”

Javi felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. He stopped his pacing and sat back down heavily on the couch, holding his head in his hands.

“God dammit…” The curse was barely a whisper. They sat in silence together for several long moments. Finally, Javi brought his head up and looked at his boss.

“What am I supposed to do now, then...with her, I mean. Do I tell her?” Dixon considered this for a moment.

“No,” her own voice was hoarse with emotion. “It should come from me. She’s still DEA, after all.” She looked at Javi carefully. “I’ll get the paperwork together and signed this afternoon...I can meet with her tomorrow morning. We’ll make arrangements for her to fly home immediately; tomorrow night even. That still means you’ll have to make it through tonight. It might be best if you stay at your place again…”

“Fuck that.” Javi grumbled. “I’m not gonna abandon her right before she gets this news.” He saw Dixon flinch slightly at the implication of abandonment, but the moment was gone in an instant. He angrily grabbed his keys, sunglasses, cigarettes and his jacket from his desk chair, scattering file folders across his desk as he rummaged for the items haphazardly. He stormed towards the door.

“Agent Peña.”

He stopped at the threshold of the office, not turning around.

“I know what she means to you. You’re not the only one that loves her, remember that.”

Javi felt his chest contract at her words.

He stumbled blindly out of the office.

Javi sat in his car outside the brothel.

He was trash.

He looked like trash right now from lack of sleep. He probably smelt like trash, too. And he certainly acted like trash.

He had been sitting in his car for the last three hours. He had driven around the city for hours, up and down streets whose names he didn’t know and through neighborhoods he didn’t recognize. He knew he should have driven straight home to her, but he needed to think. He needed to figure out what the hell he was going to say to her. Without thinking he had ended up in the seedy neighborhood he had frequented often in the past. He hadn’t darkened these doors for quite some time, though, and now, sitting here watching customers enter and exit the building, he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of what he was about to do.

He just needed to not think. Just for a little bit. He needed to not know that she would be leaving him in only a day or two. Shamefully, he wanted to feel close his eyes and imagine whomever he was with was his partner; wanted to imagine it was her voice crying out his name as he split her open. He clenched his eyes shut, wishing with all of his might that he was braver. That he was stronger. That he was a better man. He smacked his head back against the headrest of his seat a few times before taking in a deep breath of the late Columbian air coming through his window.

His eyes slowly opened as he took another deep breath again. His forehead furrowed as he tried to place the smell wafting through his car window. He looked across the street opposite the entrance of the brothel and his heart nearly stopped beating.

A young girl and a crookedly bent, gray haired old woman sat side by side on overturned buckets next to a bright display. The soft breeze fluttered across the delicate pink, soft orange, and clean white petals of dozens of vibrant bouquets of plumeria.

The shadows were just starting to crawl up the walls as he quietly entered her apartment. He found her curled into a ball in the recliner, knees drawn up to her chest, hair tangled and mussed, eyes red and face splotchy from crying. He didn’t say anything but simply dropped to his knees in front of her and held out the flowers in his arms for her to see, presenting them to her as an unspoken peace offering. She looked at them for a moment without saying anything, then took them from him, smelling them carefully, her eyes meeting his over the bright petals. He saw every single one of the questions she wanted to ask him in her eyes. And all he could do was take her hand in his and press a soft kiss to her knuckles above the false ring that still adorned her hand.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Her eyes scrunched up and she began to cry, putting the flowers on the side table next to the half empty bottle of whiskey and sweating highball glass that he had not noticed before. She covered her face with her hands and huffed out a breath and he could smell the whiskey.

“Why don’t you want me Javier?” Her words were slurry and thick and sad. His heart ached as he drew her into his embrace, holding her against his chest as she shook with sobs. She repeated her question mixed with another sob into his chest and he stroked her hair and whispered her name, trying to calm her. She pulled back from him suddenly, looking him directly in the eye, searching his face for some shred of information.

“Did I do something wrong? Before, I mean?” When he assured her that was not the case, her face fell. “What is it then? Why don’t you want to be with me, Javi?” She barely managed to choke out her next words. “Is there someone else?”

“No, baby. It’s not that.”

“What then?” Her voice rose in anger now and he saw frustration lace the sadness in her eyes. “What’s going on, Javi? Tell me.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, dammit! Just tell me!” Javi sat back on his haunches and sighed, thinking for a moment that Dixon’s orders be damned. But she had been drinking, this wasn’t the right moment. He met your gaze full on when he spoke.

“I know how unfair this must feel right now, me asking you to just trust with everything. And I know how much its hurting you not knowing, not remembering. But just please, please know I’m doing this because...because I love you.” He faltered only a little on the words, surprising himself at how easily they fell from his lips. Before he could think about that any more, he pressed on. “I promise you: It’s all gonna make sense when things are back to how they were.”

“Great,” she huffed. “And what if that never happens, Javi? What if I don’t EVER remember?” She pushed past him and stood up, wobbling only slightly from the alcohol. He stood up with her, ready to reach out and steady her if she started to fall. She brushed his hands away. “This is bullshit. Something else is going on that you’re not saying. Why should I trust anything you tell me right now, Javier Peña? How do I know you haven’t been lying to me this whole time?”

Javi felt his blood run cold and his body went rigid. Of course she knew something was wrong; they had all been foolish to think she wouldn’t realize eventually. His partner was so incredibly smart, after all. He should have known more than any of the others that she wouldn’t be fooled for long. But her last words had cut him.

“No.” He said the small word fiercely, adamantly. “I haven’t lied. I haven’t lied to you once this whole time. Not once.”

She crossed her arms over chest and just stood in the middle of the living room, looking at him warily as though trying to decide whether to believe him or not. And suddenly Javi couldn’t stand not touching her again.

He crossed the expanse between them in two easy steps and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him and kissing her hard. She pushed against his chest for a moment, then wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing and relaxing into his body, his touch, his lips, his tongue against hers.

They stayed that way for a long while, pressed into one another, breathing one another’s air, tasting one another. Javi did his very best to communicate everything with his kiss; all of the memories she was missing, all of the things he felt for her, all of the fear and uncertainty he had been keeping inside himself this entire time. His heart was thudding in his chest and hoped that she could feel how it pounded and shouted at her closeness.

Eventually, Javi broke away, pressing his forehead to hers, breathing her name, bumping his nose against hers after a time. Her eyes opened, too and he saw resignation...no, it was more acceptance… in her eyes. They stared at one another that way until she nodded her head against his.

“I trust you Javier. I always have.”

Javi had never known that words could completely ruin a man’s heart...and restore it to life all at the same time.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

#javier pena x female reader #javier peña x reader #javi #narcos #undercover marriage #undercover married trope #pedro pascal fanfiction

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specterchasing-a · 4 years ago

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Sucker Punch || Alfie & Eddie

TIMING: The day after I Swear It’s The Truth

LOCATION: Eddie’s apartment, downtown White Crest

PARTIES: @yikesimonfire and @specterchasing

SUMMARY: Nothing will ever be the same for Alfie and Eddie, and now they know why.

CONTENT: Internalized homophobia tw, homophobia tw, emotional abuse tw

(This is an emotionally heavy thread. Let one of us know if you need a summary.)

It wasn’t often that Alfie found himself at Eddie’s apartment. For the most part, the time they spent together was almost exclusively at his place. Even when he dog-sat Bucket, the pomeranian was dropped off at Alfie’s. He never complained. In fact, it was more convenient that way, even when he was decidedly too busy to entertain guests. But things were different now. Bex was in the picture; not as one of Eddie’s friends, but his girlfriend. Not even 24 hours in, Alfie was struggling with the concept. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. It should have been fine. He should have been happy for him — he wasn’t. The thought made him sick.

He thought about cancelling. Throughout the day, Alfie composed several messages to his friend as a means to get out of their plans, but he couldn’t bring himself to hit send. He couldn’t back out. Not now; not on Eddie. Not when the plans were made before the events of last night. So he persevered. He wanted to be a good friend, no matter how much emotional distress he was in; no matter how many silent tears he shed before finally falling asleep.

Taking a deep breath, Alfie rapped his fist against the door to Eddie’s apartment, the sound causing him to flinch. He didn’t exactly know why he knocked. The front door was unlocked. Alfie knew that. After a moment of hesitation, Alfie managed to still his trembling hands long enough to crack the door open and slip in, mindful enough to not let Bucket bolt out of the door at his arrival.

“Hey,” he called out. “Just me.” Obviously. Who else would it be? Bex, maybe, if the time hadn’t been reserved specifically for Alfie. He didn’t want to think about that.

Until last night, Eddie didn’t know how much change a single kiss could bring about. He felt disoriented, partially because the knots in his stomach kept him from getting any sleep. It didn’t make any sense. He should be happy. He wanted to be happy. Instead, he felt worse than before. Alfie’s reaction to finding out about him and Bex didn’t add up. He sounded distant, disappointed even, as if Eddie having a girlfriend changed something between them. That was a line of thought Eddie decided against pursuing as bile gurgled in his stomach. He didn’t want things to change.

Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door followed by the sound of Bucket’s paws skittering across the living room floor. He only did that for one person, the man in question, Alfie. Eddie half-expected him to cancel after the way he acted last night. Realizing he assumed wrong, his heart leapt into his throat before plummeting into his stomach to be eroded by the crashing waves of acid. Why didn’t his heart leap like that for Bex? Never mind, he didn’t want to know.

“Hey!” Eddie called out from his office, rising from his chair to meet his visitor. At the sight of Alfie, Eddie’s heart thumped pitifully as it drowned. “Fancy seeing you here.” He tried acting casual. Fake it ‘till you make it. “Everything’s all set up, even brought in an extra chair.” Why did he leave the office in the first place? Alfie knew the layout of his apartment, he would’ve made it there fine without him. Did he really need to see him so badly that a few more seconds of waiting would hurt? So many questions and not a single answer he wanted to acknowledge.

“Warning you now,” he said, walking back to where he’d come from. “It’s boring. All we’ll be doing is staring at my face and deciding what can go.” Eddie plopped into his chair, rolling back a few inches from the force. “You sure you wanna subject yourself to this?” Please say yes.

The sight of Bucket rounding the corner to meet him at the door gave Alfie a momentary rush of relief. A sense of normalcy, although fleeting. He crouched down to stroke behind Bucket’s ears as Eddie came into view. His heart lurched at the sight of him. It shouldn’t have. He wished it didn’t. Yet there Eddie was, beaming at him like everything was fine — or at least, almost. There was a sadness twinkling in his eyes that Alfie couldn’t quite place. It didn’t make sense. Surely, he must have imagined it.

“I could say the same to you. Come here often?” Alfie foolishly flirted. Stupid. He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips. What was happening to him? He wasn’t usually like this. Or, if he was, he wasn’t usually so aware of it. But even now, standing in Eddie’s apartment, chittering off cliche pick-up lines, there was a stark contrast between Alfie’s tone and the look on his face. He tried to smile — to pretend that everything was normal — but his features mirrored the same despondency he could have sworn he saw in Eddie’s.

Without another word, Alfie trailed behind him to the home office, wriggling his fingers and clicking his tongue for Bucket to follow. At least he had Bucket. Even if he was about to subject himself to spending hours staring at Eddie’s face on the computer screen, the pooch served as a welcome distraction.

“I doubt it’s boring,” Alfie retorted. He wanted to say that he didn’t mind staring at his face. To take his words out of context and insist that none of it ‘needed to go’. Not only would that have been uncharacteristic of their friendship, it would have made Alfie seem pathetic. Instead, he eased himself into the spare chair next to Eddie, careful to keep his distance. “Absolutely. I’m eager to see your, uh… process.” Had he said that nearly verbatim last night? Shit.

And there they were, standing face to face in mutual mourning over something that never existed in the first place. Or, did it? Eddie had to wonder. Grief like this didn’t appear out of thin air. He had a girlfriend now, did that come with a hidden cost? If he looked at the fine print, should he expect to see Alfie’s name crossed out? When he kissed Bex, it didn’t occur to him that the average life he wanted so badly might exclude the one person he thought he couldn’t lose. The dejection written on his best friend’s face registered immediately, years of memorizing his expressions and the meanings behind them made it obvious.

“Cute,” Eddie quipped, trying to pair the word with a laugh, but it came out hollow. He didn’t know he could miss someone standing only a few feet away from him. Deep within his chest, he felt something awful clawing its way up. If it managed to reach his throat and break free, he knew regret would quickly follow.

“Mm,” Eddie hummed skeptically as he pushed his hair away from his face, hands shaking as he did. His chair scooted forward, closer to the desk. Even when he wasn’t looking at Alfie, he was imagining his face. He tried removing the sadness from his eyes, but it didn’t work. He struck a key and an application opened. “So,” he started, clearing his throat. “This is Premiere, it’s the, uh,” Eddie trailed off, blinking at the computer screen. It wouldn’t come into focus. “It’s the editing software that I use,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “Adobe, y’know.” What was he saying?

Eddie pushed back from the desk and brought his hands up to his face, letting them slide down a moment later. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He needed a moment to regain control, he couldn’t let Alfie see him like this. “I haven’t taken my meds yet, it’s making it impossible to focus. Give me just a sec,” he explained as he stood up and slipped past Alfie, leaving the office in pursuit of his bedroom.

He closed the door behind himself and pressed his back to it. Eddie stressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and let out a pitiful, but quiet sob. “Why are you so fucking useless?” he berated himself internally. “Get it together, it’s just Alfie. It’s just Alfie.” The words repeated in his head, an endless loop, never successfully convincing him. His hands fell to his sides and he straightened up. If he kept acting like this, the chances of Alfie leaving would skyrocket. He needed to keep him there for as long as he could. Eddie shook out his arms and bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to get his blood pumping. A sharp exhale escaped his nose. He could do this.

Eddie waltzed back into the office and reclaimed his chair. “Okay, where was I?” He gripped the mouse, sounding more invigorated than he had before. “Right, Premiere. It’s expensive, confusing, and constantly crashes, but we love disappointment in this house.” A video opened on-screen, a mirror image of Eddie. He turned his chair to face Alfie, their knees brushing in the process. He tried to ignore it.

“You want the whole editing process, right? Technically, it starts as soon as I have an idea for a video. You always plan a concept with editing in mind,” Eddie explained, his hands falling limply in his lap. “Camera angles, movements, position, all of that should be mostly figured out before filming starts. But, uh, I’ll ease up on the behind the scenes talk and get to the feature presentation. We’re gonna have to watch this about 10 times, so,” Reaching towards the desk, he hit play on the video. His voice played through the speakers, spilling information about fae. “Someone actually warned me against making this one,” he mused. “Something about dire consequences. People are so dramatic.”

This wasn’t right. None of it was right. Clearly, Alfie’s behavior was affecting Eddie. Even last night, he called him out for being quiet. Just tired, Alfie had responded. He tried to cheer up, to act like the news didn’t eat him up inside. But it was easier to hide in a world of pixels and code than it was being next to him. “I’m vaguely familiar with Premier, if that helps,” he said monotonously; a desperate attempt to encourage Eddie to push forward. It didn’t help.

In an instant, Eddie was rattling off an excuse about his medication and removing himself from the office altogether. “Yeah, sure. Take your time,” Alfie murmured, his voice breaking in the process. His eyes — and Bucket — followed Eddie out of the room. Suddenly, he was alone. Even as Bucket strolled back into the office, giving Alfie a confused head-tilt and a pitiful gaze, Alfie was alone.

“What?” Alfie questioned the ginger ball of fluff. Bucket’s tail thumped against the floor, eliciting an exasperated sigh from Alfie. “You have no idea, do you? Not a single clue.” Not one brain cell was firing off behind the dog’s eyes. “You’re lucky,” he added.

Coming here had been a mistake. He could probably still leave — slip out the door while Eddie was gone. But Alfie couldn’t bring himself to budge from the chair. Instead, he sat in silence and watched Bucket watching him.

Before long, Eddie returned. His gaze didn’t meet Alfie’s as he elected to focus on the monitor instead and dive straight back into where he’d left off. Ignoring the fact that Eddie’s meds were not immediately effective, Alfie turned in his seat to give the other man his undivided attention. He had to put on a brave face; he didn’t have any other choice. But then Eddie’s face was on display. He seemed happier in the still shot. There was passion behind his brilliant eyes, and it made Alfie’s heart swoon. He stared longingly at the image on screen, interrupted only by Eddie’s knees brushing his as he turned towards him.

Alfie swallowed the knot in his throat, glancing down at the space between them. Making eye-contact would be a mistake. There was no hiding the vacant gloss of his eyes, no matter how hard he tried. “Just… pretend I’m not here, if that helps,” his voice wavered. Alfie looked back up at the screen when Eddie started the video. Please pretend I’m not here, he thought, catching a mere glimpse of his friend’s face in the screen’s reflection. Two entirely different faces greeted him.

Nervously, Alfie ran his tongue across his bottom lip. His hands clasped tightly together in his lap. “Like that’s ever really stopped you in the past,” he absentmindedly chided. This was going to be absolute torture.

It felt unfair, seeing Alfie in so much pain while working hard to keep his own out of sight. At the same time, it felt familiar, but that only made it worse. Eddie, in a desperate attempt to keep people close, became a stranger to himself. Put on a show, keep them entertained, but don’t let them know what’s lurking beneath the surface; they’ll love you less. And Alfie did love him, he knew that now, which was also unfair.

“Don’t,” Eddie pleaded softly, gazing at the ground for a moment before an unprecedented surge of irritation flooded his mind. “I didn’t know, okay? How could I?” Either Alfie would understand what he was referring to, or he wouldn’t. In a way, he preferred the latter option.

“The first time I came into your apartment through the balcony, it was because you wouldn’t answer the door. And I think that pretty much sums up our entire friendship.” Anguish settled in his eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to fight it. “I turn my music up too loud because I know you’ll message me to complain. I bribe you to spend time with me. I do whatever it takes to get you to notice me.” His chest heaved with every breath. Eddie didn’t like being so honest, so vulnerable, but he didn’t deserve to be cast as the villain in this scenario.

“The past few months have been a little different, I didn’t need to work so hard, and I’ve always thought it was worth the effort, anyway. I know how you are, you’re not loud like me, you need a little convincing. That’s fine, I like that about you sometimes, but if you do this…” Eddie gestured at the way Alfie held himself. “If you make me feel guilty for having something in my life that doesn’t revolve around you, then I…” He trailed off, biting back tears as they formed in his eyes.

“I just wish you’d take a second, one second, to look at me and notice that you’re not the only one who's scared. Alfie, you are so important to me in ways you don’t even realize. Ways that I can’t make sense of without throwing my entire world off its axis, and that’s why I need this to work with Bex. With her, it’s simple—it’s expected. So, just… I can’t ask you to be happy about it but, for my sake, try to understand that I can’t be what you want me to be.”

Don’t. The word shook Alfie to his core. At that moment, he knew he fucked up. His shoulders tensed — his entire body did, actually. He was frozen, still locked onto the computer screen and staring straight past Eddie. Leave it to Eddie to see right through him. He anticipated a lashing of reproach; that Eddie was disappointed in his behavior. That’s exactly what he got, tenfold.

Alfie tore his eyes away from the monitor as he shifted his gaze to finally look at Eddie; a look of pure bewilderment. His thoughts began to run rampant as he processed what was being said. With each line came a blow to his gut and Alfie’s throat constricted, forbidding him to speak. But he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. Not when Eddie very plainly laid his grievances out on the table for Alfie to see. “If you make me feel guilty for having something in my life that doesn’t revolve around you, then I…” Guilty. He made him feel guilty. All because Alfie couldn’t bring himself to pretend for one goddamn second that he was happy for Eddie. Because he was consumed with jealousy over a relationship that was “simple” and “expected”.

After a painstaking lull, it was Alfie’s turn to speak; to say something — anything — that might smooth things over. An apology would have been a good place to start. But “I’m sorry” were not the words that came out.

“You think it’s easy for me?” Alfie scoffed, choking on the knot that threatened to suffocate him and forcing back the tears brimming in his own eyes. “That I haven’t even considered how I’ve made you feel over the years? How horrible I’ve been to you because I couldn’t deal with—” It didn’t matter that Eddie had pieced it together; he still couldn’t bring himself to say the words aloud. “What do you have to be afraid of, anyway? That I’d try to hold your hand? Or, god forbid, kiss you?”

Eddie didn’t deserve the backlash he was receiving from Alfie. Nor did he deserve to be saddled with the responsibility of carrying their entire friendship. But Alfie was terrified to face the reality that they were both now painfully aware of. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry I ever tried to push you away. I’m sorry I’m not happy for you and Bex. I’m sorry, Eddie.” An errant tear ran down Alfie’s cheek and he flicked it away with a terse laugh.

“I didn’t ask for this. I tried so hard to not— to not feel the way I do about you. I’m still trying. But I look at you and I—” Alfie cut himself off by biting his bottom lip. It wouldn’t do any good. Nothing he said was going to change the fact that Eddie would never reciprocate his feelings. He made it evident that he couldn’t be what Alfie wanted him to be — his own words. “I’m sorry,” he reiterated, once again unable to meet Eddie’s gaze. “I’m trying, really. I want you to be happy.”

Over the past few months, Eddie and Alfie reached a new level of closeness. As Alfie became more receptive to him, Eddie realized how thin their boundaries were becoming. It terrified him how much he liked the idea, so much so that his only option was running away. Enter Bex. He thought the answer to all of his problems started with her, but Alfie proved him wrong when he plunged into a comeback diatribe.

At the mention of physical affection, Eddie bolted upright and out of his chair. He needed to put distance between them. His legs carried him to the farthest corner of the room, which still felt too close. Alfie didn’t do well with subtext, he should have known better than to rely on it to get his point across, but the idea of openly admitting to how he felt made his chest tighten.

A barrage of apologies hit him in quick succession as he nervously combed his hair out of his face. Eddie couldn’t let Alfie think he was afraid of him, not even to save himself.

“I’ve never been afraid of what you might do, Alfie.” His voice shook as he gave his confession. “What I’m afraid of is that I’ll like it.” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, as if bracing himself for whatever came next. “You’re not the monster here, I am.” He wanted this to be easy, but shards of glass lined his throat in the wake of truth.

“Neither of us asked for this.” Eddie found it impossible to look at Alfie. Instead, his gaze remained fixed on a gap in the wood flooring. “But it happened anyway.”

Alfie was certain that he’d hit the nail on the head as soon as Eddie shirked away to the other side of the room at the notion of romantic advancements. Between the two of them, Eddie was always the one to initiate physical contact. It was never intimate; Alfie knew better than to believe it ever could be, and his friend’s present reaction only solidified this theory. If Eddie felt the need to withdraw himself from the situation, he wasn’t going to stop him. He didn’t move in his chair or turn his head to follow his movements. He stayed put, staring at the space the other man previously occupied. In fact, Alfie was so convinced that he was correct in his assumption that Eddie’s next words gave him whiplash.

Afraid that he would like it?

Bewildered, Alfie shifted in his seat to face Eddie. His eyes desperately tried to search a face that couldn’t bear to look at him. It was impossible for Alfie to discern the truth behind these statements without proper facial cues. He was forced to take Eddie’s words at face value.

For a second time in the twenty-four hour period, Alfie’s heart shattered all over again. “Oh,” he breathed, unsure of what to say. Nothing he could say would relieve Eddie of the sheer panic and shame he felt. Eventually, he settled on a single-minded question.

“Do you really believe that? That it— that you’re a monster?”

Alfie didn’t have much to say, only offering up a simple question. A simple question that Eddie choked on. His hand raised to cover his mouth as an influx of contradicting emotions lashed out from within. He nodded wordlessly, closing his eyes tightly to fight back tears. He wanted to beg Alfie to tell him how wrong he was, to dissuade him from believing the lies his parents told him, but the words wouldn’t come out.

His back hit the wall and Eddie slid to the floor. He bit back a sob, trying to stay quiet. His dad lived half-way across town, but he still half-expected him to suddenly appear and tell him to keep it down. According to Jim Carridine, Eddie only cried for attention or to make people feel guilty. It never stemmed from anything real, only girls cried their pain out.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie instinctively apologized as he wiped the tears from his eyes. He noticed his position on the floor and cringed; he wanted to shrink his existence. Eddie did the next best thing and pulled his knees to his chest.

“I don’t know why it hurts so much,” he admitted with a sniffle. “I don’t think less of anyone else because of who they wanna be with, I really don’t, but when it comes to me…” Eddie shook his head sadly. “I’m already so different. People don’t need another excuse to tell me what I’m doing is wrong. And, yeah, it’s just their opinions, but it’s still too heavy. I can’t carry any more.”

He didn’t know what to expect from a question like that. Honestly, Alfie wasn’t even sure why he chose to focus on that part specifically. Maybe it was because he was afraid that Eddie did think he was a monster, but chose to carry the burden himself as a martyr. Or, maybe it was because he knew how fragile Eddie’s sense of self-worth truly was and that suggesting otherwise wouldn’t have accomplished anything.

But then Eddie continued to break, all because he asked him if he actually believed it. Of course he did; Alfie should have known better than to doubt how much hatred his friend harbored for himself.

“Hey, hey— whoa, whoa, whoa,” Alfie sputtered, more or less flinging himself from the chair to join Eddie on the floor. This wasn’t the first time that he caught Eddie in a vulnerable state. He’d seen him emotional, probably even shed a few tears. But moments like that never lasted long. Eddie was an expert at masking his emotions.

This was different.

Not only was Alfie bad at comforting people in general, he was entirely clueless as to what Eddie needed right now. A friend — he could give him that much. Alfie managed to swallow his own pain just enough to drape an arm over Eddie’s shoulder. He wouldn’t blame him if he pushed him away, but he had to try.

“Eddie, listen to me,” he began softly. “That’s not true — none of it. Okay? This sucks. It fucking sucks. But you are so much more than what anyone says you are, alright?” New tears pooled in Alfie’s eyes and he quickly brushed them away with his free hand before extending the gesture to Eddie. “I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m sorry I was an asshole. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to—”

A deep frown etched onto Alfie’s features and he let out a trembling sigh. If he kept this up, he’d likely make things worse. “You’re my best friend, Eddie. That’s not going to change, alright?” He wasn’t in the position to make promises like that, no matter how much he wanted to believe it. At the end of the day, he still had to go back to his apartment where he’d only be left with his thoughts. “Bex’ll be good for you, right? So… so, okay. Give it a chance. You owe it to yourself to try, right? And you’ll still have me.” He hoped that wasn’t a lie; for both of their sakes.

Turning points, both big and small, happen every day. Intentional or not, change is both constant and inevitable. As Alfie embraced him, Eddie knew nothing would ever be the same between them again. The truth about their feelings stripped away the comfort of denial and ushered them into a new chapter, one that terrified Eddie. As far as he could tell, he had two options. The first involved swallowing the truth and dating Bex. The second was wiping away his tears. It didn’t occur to him that his choice should include his feelings as well as Bex and Alfie’s, Eddie didn’t think in those terms.

When Alfie encouraged him to keep playing house with Bex, claiming nothing needed to change, Eddie sprung forward and wrapped his arms around his best friend. He knew a lie when he heard one. No matter what choice he made, things were irrevocably different now. No amount of pretending would undo the past two days, but he appreciated Alfie’s dedication to the fabricated life he said he wanted.

Eddie breathed in Alfie’s scent, unsure of when he might get another chance. So much begged to be said, additions to his initial confession, but he stayed silent as his grip tightened. In a perfect world, the two of them would stay like this and the rest of the world would leave them alone. But they didn’t live in a perfect world. Alfie would eventually return to his apartment, the change would set in, and their friendship would slowly dissolve. Eddie wondered how much damage a kiss would do. Just one, to know what love felt like pressed against his lips. Too much, probably.

“You changed my life, Alfie,” Eddie whispered with his eyes closed. “No matter what happens, I want you to know that, at least. And I don’t regret any of it.”

Eddie released his hold on Alfie and pulled away enough to look him in the eyes. “One of these days, I’m gonna catch up to where you are. Until then, keep the balcony unlocked for me, okay?”

#c: alfie #sucker punch #wickedswriting #internalized homophobia tw #tw: internalized homophobia #emotional abuse tw

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago

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Don’t You Dare

Loki Laufeyson x nibling!reader

warnings: death mention, my iconic infliction of pain on my lovely readers

a/n: no hate on loki i just saw a tiktok that made me go “oh dam thats kinda wicked” dont let this flop its 4:19am

prompt: this tiktok - in an AU where asgard never fell, instead thor gave his life to defeat his sister, and y/n took the throne so that loki couldn’t endanger their kingdom anymore. loki felt a sense of guilt after his father and brother perished, y/n found someone to blame

You’ll admit that these past few weeks...they didn’t go as planned. Your father just wanted to protect Asgard, but that cost him his life. Now you were left to the throne, completely unguided and utterly alone. Not even the Warriors Three were here to help. Too many had perished, maybe your family was cursed.

The only relative that remained was Loki, your uncle. Loki, the reason that you were orphaned and forced to rule over a kingdom that needed tending to since he didn’t feel like doing it himself. The audacity that he had to remain on Asgard was astounding, but he had been avoiding you at all costs while you began to rehabilitate the country.

“What shall we do about the wreckage?” An advisor had questioned, as if you didn’t have a million other things to be worried about. Of course it was a priority, but there was so much to discuss that any question was just a bit irritating.

“Rally up volunteers to clean the debris, some of it may be salvageable.” You walked along the palace halls with an entourage of concerned beings, they had so many important questions that you needed to answer, but you hadn’t even properly memorialized your father yet. He was all you could think about. “Make sure that all of out citizens have shelter while their homes are being rebuilt. We can spare some rooms here in the palace.” You came to a halt and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Will that be all for now?”

“Yes, your highness.” They answered and scattered away to tend to their business. This kingdom was already in ruins before Hela arrived. Thank you, Uncle.

These past few years...past few weeks had been quite difficult, would there every be a return to normalcy? Doubtful. But you had to be strong for your people, that was what they needed. A ruler that had the people’s best interest in mind. One who bore all of the hardships so that they could live happily.

You paced further down the halls to check for damages and anything out of the ordinary. You were a bit paranoid that there could be another attack, but it seemed like the trouble may have been over. Never hurts to double check. As you made your rounds, you passed your father’s former room, which was filled with memories that you would hold onto for lifetimes.

“I failed you, father. And for that, I’m sorry.” You tried to tell him, but he was long gone. You lingered on for a moment more and decided it was time to continue your surveyal. It was depressing walking these halls, every memory included someone who was no longer with you. Why must you continue to ponder the past? Why was that?

“Your majesty,” you heard a woman call from behind you, turning to find the last known Valkyrie approaching, “you have a visitor.”

“Do I?” You asked, not thinking twice about it. There was so much on your mind, you were foolish to forget the likes of Uncle Loki.

“I’ll leave you to it.” She called upon Loki to enter your presence and quickly vacated, not wanting to deal with any more drama of the throne. You stood silently and waited for him to state his business.

“Y/N...” He started, not knowing where to go after that part. “Please don’t hate me.” Your uncle begged, which only made your blood curdle. This was no time for a need of approval, this was just inappropriate.

“Uncle, you’re a disgrace.” You growled, which may have been a bit harsh, but you chose your words without a second thought. “I have other matters to tend to.”

“Please, y/n, don’t do this.” He went on. “We are all the other has left, I cannot take that for granted.” Loki insisted on following you about the palace, nearly in tears. You’d seen this act before, though, when he used it on your father time and time again. “Let me help you, y/n! The throne is a burden, you don’t have to do it alone!”

“That’s enough!” You snapped at your uncle, silencing him immediately. “You created this mess and I’m cleaning it up my way. I do not need your help like the others did. I know better than to depend on the likes of the God of Mischief!” Your words were like daggers to Loki, who believed everything that you’d just said. He stuttered a bit, trying to carefully make out another sentence.

“I-I’m...I’m trying, y/n.” Loki balled his fists, trying to truly keep it together for his nibling who was in true pain, pain that he actually blamed himself for. “I take no joy in my actions. They were reckless and immature.” He admitted, wincing at the responsibility he had to take. You could take after your father and forgive him, maybe give him another chance...or you could teach him a lesson once and for all.

“Uncle Loki,” you sighed, “I am not my father. Nor am I Odin or Freya. I am y/n and I do not take responsibility for you.” Loki’s lips parted slightly as his jaw dropped in disappointment. “You may be my uncle, but you are no longer apart of the royal family of Asgard. I cannot take any more risks on behalf of my people.”

“What?!” Loki gasped, hurt by this malfeasance. “You cannot do this, y/n! I’m the rightful ruler of Asgard!” He argued along the palace halls.

“That’s all you’ve ever cared about, Loki! You only crave power, but you refuse to acknowledge the responsibility that power comes with!” You were brutally honest, only causing more damage to Loki’s bruised ego. You hadn’t even noticed the tears that streamed down your face, showing your uncle your true feelings alongside your little speech. “Look out there, Loki! That was all you!” You pointed out the threshold of the palace to view the severely damaged kingdom he so badly wanted to rule. “Odin was an awful father, but he was the ruler that Asgard needed and you...” You shuddered out of pure rage. “You’re selfish! And it has been your downfall!”

“How dare you talk like that to me!” Loki shouted back, further solidifying your negative emotions, he would be regretting this shortly. “You’re out of your mind, little one. You can’t rule this kingdom alone, you’ll ruin it far worse than I ever could.” By this time, tears had stopped falling and you were left in a stone cold rage. You no longer needed to hear these insults.

“Enough!” You screamed in his face, succeeding in shutting him up. “Loki Odinson, you are hereby banished from the Kingdom of Asgard!” You declared, shocking your uncle greatly as he took a step back, trying to decipher if you were serious or not, but you weren’t a fan on mischief or trickery. “Leave at once, I will not ask a second time.”

“You must be joking, my nibling.” He tried to laugh it off, but you weren’t a bit amused.

“Don’t count on it, Uncle. Now go.” You stared him dead in the eyes and saw the heartbreak im his face. He finally accepted your instructions and nodded in defeat, leaving at once. He trudged in the opposite direction and you carefully watched as he left, but he took a slight pause before officially exiting.

“Y/N, little one, do know that I love you...and I loved your father, as well.” He confessed, then left you to yourself. Your lip trembled as you fought back the feeling of sorrow that flooded over you, the last of your family had departed, now you were officially alone. The struggle to contain your sobs finally ceased once your emotions got the best of you, so you collapsed onto the floor, sobbing as the weight of your world took over. The throne of Asgard guaranteed disappointment and agony, even as early as now.

This would only be the beginning on your path as a ruler. Something tells me that there is much more to come.

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

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havenoffandoms · 5 years ago

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Geralt x Female!Reader - Jealousy

This is my first attempt at a Witcher fic, more specifically the first attempt at writing Geralt. Hope you guys enjoy it! I haven’t written reader inserts in a while, so sorry if it seems a bit rusty.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Warnings: swearing, hunting (just in case someone doesn’t like that kind of topic), female!reader insert

Fandom: The Witcher (TV Series)

“… so in many ways, a bard also goes on hundreds of adventures. Only they’re less messy, and definitely safer!” Jaskier argued, causing you to huff in indignation as you tried to hide the amused smile that was tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Is that so? And on what marvellous adventures have you been, Sir Jaskier?”

“I am glad you asked, Lady Y/N,” Jaskier stood up and went to grab his lute, which he used to improvise a new song to impress you, “In a faraway land, many years ago, I was walking on beaches of sand, and dark caves below…”

You leaned back against a tall tree, watching the bard’s performance with a raised eyebrow and your arms crossed before your chest. You knew that Jaskier wanted more than just your friendship, but you never had the heart to tell him that your heart belonged to someone else. You knew it would break Jaskier’s heart to know that Geralt had claimed you as his, especially when the bard felt like he would never be a match for the witcher.

“Then one night as I ventured through the forest, in the dark and the cold, I prayed to the gods of old, and made my way on the path obscurest…”

“The path obscurest? Not your best work, Jaskier,” you told him, laughing slightly at his mock crestfallen expression. Despite your comment, the bard did not give up his spontaneous serenading.

“I’m a bit rusty, but you haven’t heard my chorus yet… ahem… Toss a coin to your Jaskier, o’ valley of plenty, o’ valley of plenty. Toss a coin to your Jaskier, and maybe add a kiss in there, too.”

“Not in your wildest dreams,” you told him, throwing a stick at him which he managed to dodge. If your words hurt Jaskier, he did a good job at hiding his emotions. “Not to mention that you completely fucked up your rhyme game…”

Just as Jaskier opened his mouth to defend himself, the two of you heard a sound coming from the woods. The snapping of twigs and the sound of crunching leaves had you both on high alert. You instinctively grabbed for your two daggers, ready to defend yourself against your attacker. The gods knew that Jaskier would not be very helpful in case of an attack. When Geralt came into view, you instantly relaxed while Jaskier let out a relieved sigh.

“Geralt, you could’ve announced yourself,” Jaskier chastised the witcher, but you instantly noticed that something about Geralt was off. He had an unreadable expression on his face and acted even more distant than usual.

“Sorry for interrupting your poor attempts at serenading Y/N, but don’t worry I was just about to go hunt our dinner,” Geralt announced, his voice cold and shut off. Your frown intensified when you realised that he was avoiding your gaze.

“I’ll come with you,” you announced more than asked, only earning yourself a dismissive grunt from the witcher, “Jaskier, how about you start a fire while we’re hunting?”

Jaskier looked ready to argue, however his protests died on his lips when he met your glare. Geralt seemed unaware of the exchange, and after feeding Roach an apple out of his bag, he disappeared into the woods again without waiting for you. You grabbed your bow and quiver and almost ran after him, leaving a disgruntled Jaskier behind.

“What was that all about?” you asked him when you had caught up with Geralt. He ignored you, which only confused you more. “Was it something I said?”

“Quiet, you’ll scare away the prey.”

Geralt’s tone was sharp, which took you by surprise. You decided to remain silent as you scanned the area for prey. It did not take long for you both to stumble upon a lone deer who had stopped to drink out of a spring of fresh water. You stopped dead in your tracks and crouched behind a tree as you nocked your arrow as quietly as you could. You noticed how Geralt had taken cover behind a tree as well, and was now watching you. Even though you felt his gaze on you, you made a point to ignore him. The deer suddenly looked up, startled by the nearby rustling of leaves. You and Geralt both held your breaths as you tried not to scare your dinner away. When the deer finally let down his guard, you pulled the string of your bow all the way back and took three composing breaths before letting go. You and Geralt both watched as your arrow wheezed through the air and hit the deer right in line with its left leg, about halfway up its body.

Geralt still refused to speak to you as he got up and went to inspect the deer. He slit the dying animal’s throat with his sword to give it a quick death before lifting its dead body onto his shoulder and walking back towards the camp. You grew more and more suspicious of his behaviour, and you started to feel irritated by his silence. You had done nothing wrong, so why would he give you the silent treatment?

“Geralt, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked him as you jogged to catch up with him again.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me! If I’ve done something wrong, at least have the balls to tell me to my face!”

Geralt unexpectedly came to a halt and dropped the dead deer to the ground. His actions were so sudden that you collided with him hard, letting out a pained groan as you brought your hand to your nose. Despite his grumpiness, your lover still cupped your face and forced you to look at him to make sure that you were not hurt too badly. The thought warmed your heart, but you knew that Geralt still had not forgiven you for whatever it was he reproached you.

“I’m fine,” you snapped as you reluctantly pulled away from his grip, “you need to get your head out of your arse, witcher! I haven’t done anything wrong-“

“Haven’t done anything wrong?” his deep voice echoed you, disbelief lacing his tone, “why don’t you ask Jaskier, maybe he’ll enlighten you.”

“Come again?” It took you several seconds to understand what Geralt was getting at, “Is this what this is all about? You’re jealous of Jaskier?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, of course I’m the ridiculous one here…”

Geralt stared at you, his nostrils flaring as he tried to contain his anger. You easily held his glare, unwilling to back down and lose the argument. Geralt was the first one to look away, sighing heavily as he heaved a resigned ‘fuck’ under his breath. He raked his fingers through his greasy hair before turning around to face you again. His other hand came to cup the side of your face, pulling you closer so he could rest his forehead against yours. His voice was hoarse as he whispered his next words into your ear:

“I hate the way he looks at you. You’re mine.”

“If you want him to stop looking at me that way, maybe we could stop hiding our relationship like it’s a crime!”

Before Geralt could reply, you pulled yourself away from him and headed back to the camp, not heeding him as he called out your name.

OoO

“Hey Y/N, where’s dinner?” Jaskier asked as soon as he spotted you through the trees, but you were in no mood to entertain him.

“Fuck off, Jaskier!” you snapped before retreating inside your tent. You were glad that you had set up your shelter for the night early, for you did not feel like dealing with Jaskier’s shit. Or Geralt’s, for that matter. As soon as you were out of sight, you let the tears of frustration run down your cheeks. You angrily wiped them, hating how weak you felt when you let your emotions get the better of you.

“Geralt, what happened out there? Y/N seems pissed…”

“Y/N?” Geralt called your name, ignoring Jaskier’s question. You refused to acknowledge him, but Geralt was stubborn. “Y/N, please…”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you…”

“Jaskier, do us all a favour and shut the fuck up” Geralt snapped at the bard, which was what made you come out of your tent.

“Leave him alone, he’s done nothing wrong!” You coming to Jaskier’s defence was what pushed Geralt over the edge. Without a word, he took several long strides towards you and grabbed your wrist in his large hand, pulling you close to his chest and crashing his lips onto yours in a hungry and possessive kiss. Your eyes widened comically at the public display of affection, but your arms instinctively wrapped your arms around Geralt’s neck for support. The proximity of his warm body, and the feeling of his taunt muscles under the layer of clothing he wore drove you crazy, and despite the anger you felt, you found yourself melting into his embrace. You were about to deepen the kiss when you both heard Jaskier clear his throat loudly. You felt slightly guilty when you broke away from Geralt, but the way the witcher held you close to his body as he acknowledged Jaskier made you feel giddy inside.

“So, how long have you guys been a thing?” the bard asked, not allowing his voice to betray how hurt he was, but you knew better. You gave him an apologetic look, and even Geralt looked slightly contrite.

“A while,” you finally admitted, sensing the way Geralt’s hold tightened around you possessively, “I’m sorry for keeping you out of the loop, Jaskier.”

“Just…” Jaskier took a deep breath and managed a forgiving smile, “Just don’t hurt her Geralt, okay? If you do, I’ll… I’ll hurt you back… somehow!”

You were surprised when you heard Geralt chuckle at the comment.

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind.”

“And if you guys ever get married, I’ll be singing at your wedding,” Jaskier told them, and it was your time to laugh when you heard Geralt utter another ‘ ah, fuck’ under his breath.

END

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x female!reader #female reader #reader insert #geralt x you #dandelion #jaskier #ficlet #jealous!geralt #requests open

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mementomori-demimonde · 4 years ago

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Hidden Scars

I - II - III - IV - V

Chapter 6

You decided to take a shower.

Miranda’s words, as always, swirl in your head - you kept hearing them throughout the whole night - and you just want to get some rest and get rid of the sensation of her hands on you, in your hair, her insistent touch, the bittersweet taste of her kisses on your lips. Sometimes, you feel like there’s something toxic on your skin that itches: a shower seems the best option to get rid of it… to get rid of her.

You hate that you let her get under your skin. You hate that she affects you so much even when she shouldn’t. You hate her that despite how badly she’s able to treat you, you still miss her at night, that you know, in a couple of days, you’ll be back at asking to join you to bed.

You hate it all, but you hate the sadness and the hurt that follows the most.

Because you know, somehow, she can shout and bite, and you also know that her threats are basically empty, but you can’t also pretend those words don’t hurt you at all.

Miranda is there, yet she’s far away; always around but so out of reach. Once upon a time, you thought something would come out of there, you thought that one day things would be clearer, but none of that is happening and you’re beginning to feel stuck.

When she’s in a good mood, being with Miranda is great, but when she’s in a foul one, well, it’s a whole different story - and after she’s made clear that nothing will ever come out from whatever is going on between you two - merely a kitten toy for her to play with when she feels like it - you don’t even see a future. What’s going to happen in a month, or in a week? Will you still be here, following orders, satisfying her request, without knowing why, nor if you’ll ever do something else in your life, besides existing and entertain your kidnapper in every way she sees fit?

Bowing your head low until your chin touches your chest, you exhale loudly and let the scalding hot water cascade above your head, rinsing the soap and some of your thoughts away. You imagine your hope for something more and your dream to walk out of that building with her, spiraling down in the drain and you laugh at yourself, not entirely sure if it’s just water streaming down your cheeks.

Perhaps if you’d paid more attention you would have noticed, beyond the steamed, blurry glass of the shower, the bathroom door opening; perhaps, if you hadn’t tried so hard to cover your pitiful sobs, you’d heard the ruffling noise of buttons opening, of zips pulled, of shoes dropped on the floor with the piles of discarded clothes already there; perhaps if you could’ve just owned up and act normal - and be normal in the first place - you wouldn’t be in this situation at all, simply living and taking what she gives you, no question asked, as Miranda said.

But you’re not: your eyes sting for the soap, your ears are too focused on registering your own whimpers over the water running, and you don’t acknowledge any of those things happening until you feel the cold air on your back as Miranda slides the shower door open.

You tense up immediately, furiously rubbing at your eyes to get rid of the soap and be able to look at her with some composure. Surely you don’t want to look weak and broken when you’ll tell her to leave or reply to one of her questions or complain about one of the challenges she’s planning to give you.

You’re expecting some vicious grips on your arm, you expect Miranda to pull you out, suddenly deciding your unnegotiated five minutes of hot water are over, you expect her to be her normal self, harsh and smug and unpredictable, yet none of that happens.

She is unpredictable, but not in her usual feral way. Because, instead of the expected violence, you feel her arms circling your waist, looping around your middle. You feel her body press against yours, her breasts flushed onto your back, and her skin is a different kind of warm compared to the water running over you both, now. You feel her lips resting almost purposelessly on your marked shoulder, then her cheek nuzzles in between your shoulder blades.

You’re taken off guards but that uncalled and unexpected show of affection, especially after you thought about your next encounter would’ve been a full display of the power she has over you, and so your arms drop slowly at your sides, hands balling up into two loose fists.

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs.

You wish you had the promptness to reach out and turn off the tap to hear her better, but those words are even more surprising than the rest.

“What?” You mumble, not even bothering to conceal your disbelief.

“I said that I’m sorry,” Miranda repeats with a sigh, and you helplessly follow her movement when, behind you, she begins to sway, “I get it: it’s my fault.”

You wish you also had the promptness to turn your head back and look into her eyes as she says so. Instead, you keep staring at the steam-coated tiles in front of you, unconsciously memorizing patterns that don’t really exist.

“Your fault?” You echo dumbly.

Miranda nods against your back.

“You can’t understand something you don’t know.” She whispers, you feel the tip of her nose drawing small circles on your dewed skin.

“You’re going to tell me what’s this all about?”

You almost believe her, for a moment. Then, when you dare to breathe, dare to let the thought of her actually apologizing and gathering the courage to make that longed-for promise of her trying to act better, vanish. The grip on your waist tightens, you can hear her breathing sharper into your wet hair.

“Of course not.” She replies with the familiar saccharine tone, but you can feel that her intentions are not as sweet as anybody else would think. “I’ll just be more patient with you.”

“What?” You blink in dismay, her elbows digging painfully into the hollow space of your waist for a moment before she untangles her arms from your, her hands settling on your hips, her fingers grasping with a bruising force.

On your back, you feel the pricking of her teeth over the smooth ridges of your scars. It stings a bit, but it only serves as a reminder.

“I’ll show you what will happen to you if you don’t listen to me and keep questioning what we’re doing and I’ll try to be very patient with you when you’ll start to complain.”

She spins you effortlessly, and now that your face is inches from hers, you can see yourself in the reflection of her eyes. Teeth bare, she’s grinning innocently when she lets you go, trapping you between the shower wall and her own body even without touching either - her presence is enough to discourage you from trying anything. She reaches behind you with both hands, presses her body against your own and you release a shuddering breath at the closeness, well knowing that, from there, only ugly things will happen.

You have very little time to react before she fists your hair, tugging once and with force, making you yelp, blinking rapidly as your face stands now under the direct scalding water, the ceiling blurred and cloudy beyond the showerhead.

You don’t know what she is doing with her other hand, but everything becomes clear when the water turns cold in a second - icy cold - and she keeps you under the stream with unfaltering strength when your stomach begins to spasm and your mouth open on its own volition. You shut your eyes tight, illegible complaints falling from your lips as you pant and splutter water.

You’re barely aware of the jerky movements of your hands and arms as you cling to her shoulders for balance - and to have something firm to hold on to while you feel like choking, dying in the cold, in the most horrible of ways.

Her other hand settles on the small of your back, keeping you flushed against her, keeping you upright and still.

“Relax.” Her voice is calm but easily reaches your ears above the cascade of water over your face. “It’s just the shock reaction, don’t fight it.”

You’re left there gasping for air like a goldfish, but her voice is anchoring and you focus on that, on the steady rise and fall of her chest against your own, spasming one, on the gentle rubs of her fingers on your loins. Slowly, you blink your eyes open, shivering due to the cold stream but able to bear it on your skin. You tilt your head to the side, wincing when you feel her tug tighten, and try to breathe through your nose, water and spit trailing down your chin as you empty your mouth.

“That’s it, clear your mind.” Miranda praises, her hot breath on your neck making you shiver even more. “You need to get used to cold temperatures. One can never know.”

The muscles in your neck protesting for the angle, you try to wiggle your head free, wincing at her fingers still entangled between your wet hair. The water still runs over your face and you’re still trying not to drown in it, your lungs burning painfully, begging for oxygen. You feel your stomach spasm one last time before she releases her fist and you stumble about, sure you would have fallen to your knees if Miranda hadn’t been there, squeezing you tight.

And what did she try to prove? Teaching how to control your body reaction in case you fall into a frozen lake? Or is it some torture she’s experimented on herself, inflicted by one of those enemies she fears? The next thing she’ll do, you can imagine, will be training your ability to hold your breath underwater, preferably at freezing temperatures - or boiling ones. Yes, but for what?

You cough up water from the back of your throat, but you cannot expand your chest fully, like you so desperately desire, because Miranda’s arms are crawling on your back, rubbing messy circles as she shushes you, suddenly all protective and indulgent.

“You dropped your guard.” She murmurs. Her head is tilted, her face is buried into your neck and wet hair and you desperately trying to breathe, eyes burning and tears streaming freely down your face, mixing with the water.

“What?” You manage to croak out, your throat stinging for all the useless spasming of your muscles in search of air. What does she mean? On what particular occasion? Right now? Three days ago when you let her jump on your back and pin you to the floor on your way to the kitchen? Two months ago when she kidnapped you in a dark alley?

“You knew I was coming for you, and yet you let me get close.” She says, her voice low and firm, but it doesn’t have any bite in it. She almost sounds… apologetic, but you know she’s not.

She’s talking about right now. When you were showering and thinking about her, and you noticed something was off and perceived Miranda’s presence and feared the outcome and yet did little or nothing to stop her.

“It was you, Miranda-” You blink, clearing your throat, and you sigh in relief when you notice you can breathe normally, without aching too much. “I guess I still want to talk about it." You sigh sharply. "I’m not scared. Whatever it is, I know you would never-”

“But I did hurt you in the past,” Miranda interjects, her ability to anticipate your thoughts leaving you once again speechless. Yes, you were about to say you're not fearing her because she would never really hurt you; you were about to blatantly lie. She knew and she stopped you, “I did hurt you already and I keep hurting you.” She doesn’t sound sorry as she says that, merely stating the truth. You can even hear her say that she’s doing all this for your own good, in your head.

Miranda turns off the water. You shiver against her.

“I'm aware.” Despite yourself, you relax in her hold, you slide your arms around her slender body when she starts to sway again, gently, the heat radiating from her body a welcome distraction from the freezing air hitting your back. “But it’s too late to be scared of you. I’m past that.”

Miranda sighs heavily in your hair. She swallows. You feel her hand crawling up your back, on the nape of your neck, her fingers grabbing your hair into her fist - she doesn’t tug, nor pull, but it’s possessive nonetheless.

“You mustn’t lower your guard, did you hear me?” She mumbles. “ You’ve learned a lot, but this might be my biggest failure.”

“What?” You almost sob, the word coming out squeezed as you rest your chin on top of her shoulder. Why are you so slow in getting the meaning of her words today? Has the cold water frozen your brain?

When she pushes you away, you hardly contain a whimper. You gather your arms close to your body, curling up on yourself as you try to cover as much skin as possible in the extreme attempt to stop shivering.

Miranda’s hands are on your face in an instant. She cups your head firmly, her fingers are cold against your cheeks. Her blue eyes are shimmering, boring into you with intent.

If you didn’t know better, you would say she was on the verge of crying.

“You mustn’t trust anybody.” She states, stressing every word.

You swallow, blinking rapidly but sustaining her gaze.

“You already know I trust you.”

In your head, you’ve just said something Miranda would be proud of. You imagined she would smile, praise you because that was exactly what she wanted to hear, that the world outside was a dangerous, vile place full of villains and threats while she is the only exception, the one who had saved you from a lame life, the only one who gives you a purpose.

Instead, Miranda frowns, her fingers pressing at either side of your head almost painfully. She clenches her jaw, and trembles with the effort.

“You mustn’t trust anybody.” She insists.

“Miranda, but it’s you-”

Her lips collide against yours and, just like the cold water, they steal your breath. Something within you, however, thaws out.

“Nobody.” She murmurs. “Especially me.”

Miranda leaves the room. Shivering, alone in the shower, you can’t do anything but listen to the water dripping by your feet.

#miranda croft #miranda croft x reader #tfa #the flight attendant #ao3 #four lines #hidden scars #fanfiction

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 4 years ago

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Comfort Crowd

A/N: Luba is another character on the list of needing a hug. Along with literally every other Rob character. He’s very soft and lovable, and I’d like to highlight this, and give him some fluff. Enjoy you gremlins.

Warnings: angst, death mention, food, crying

Cheeky Tag List: kat and sups already saw it so, @badsext, @joz-stankovich

“Baby, can we just not today?” Luba asked, eyes looking sad. You tried making out with him, but he pushed you away, hands colder than usual.

“Oh sure honey. Anything you have in mind?” you ask, sitting down next to him, legs crossing.

“I kinda just want to sit. And mope. And cry. And mourn.” Luba said, tears slipping from his eyes, wetting the sheets.

“Oh honey, come here.” you say, letting Luba cry into your shoulder, their sobs racking their soul.

He’d been struggling for a while, especially after Naadirah's death. He acted like it didn’t impact him, and like he didn’t care, but he did. You knew it. Nobody would stay out for that long, then come home, eyes puffy and red. He was hiding from the truth, and you knew it. And it broke you. It absolutely tore you apart, and he thought he was doing okay. Threw a smile on his face and went on to the parlor, the club, wherever it may be. You’d wake up in the middle of the night and hear him sobbing. On the couch, gin in hand absolutely tattered. You knew it was tearing him apart, and finally seeing him break down in your arms tipped you over as well.

You began to weep along with him, tears falling onto your shirt, darkening the fabric. Luba moved, and got into your lap, arms around your middle. His wet face dropped in the crook of your neck, and his broken breaths shook you, and forced you to break down completely as well. Every breath seemed impossible to get past, and Luba’s hands clenched over your shirt, balling it up with his fists. He wanted to scream until his lungs gave out at that point. Nothing he could ever do was going to bring her back, no wish, plead, or screech to the heavens. Not a single breath given could grant it back to her lifeless body. And he wanted her back so badly. The giggles between breaks, jokes about past lives, gossip about managers. It was all gone. He tore himself to bits for letting her go. Sometimes he wished it was himself, buried six feet under instead of her.

“I hate myself for letting her go that night. I-I should’ve followed her home, asked where she’d be. I could’ve trailed her, just to make sure. But I didn’t. Now she’s gone forever, almost without a trace. And I’m left here, trying to pick up the pieces of my broken fucking life. It should’ve been me.” he whispered, eyebrows scrunching in frustration, fresh tears still falling from his face.

“Luba, I know you wish you could’ve done something. And I wish you could’ve as well. Sometimes things happen that we can’t explain. And we might not know why. And I mourn with you, and allow you to grieve. However, it shouldn’t have been you. It shouldn’t have been her. Neither of you would deserve it.” you reply back, brushing a stray curl past his forehead, hand rubbing his back.

Hiccups went past his mouth, and his cries calmed, but just a little. Luba curled up against your form, and continued to play with the fabric of your shirt, feeling how soft it was between his fingers. He looked so serene and calm in the early morning sunlight, but grief took its toll on everyone in different ways. Your tears dried on your face, and you fell asleep, Luba’s breath helping to calm you. The both of you slept for a few extra hours that day, and you woke up first, Luba snoring against your form. You wiggled out from underneath him, and wrapped a blanket around Luba’s body. He cuddled into the fabric, and his hand wrapped around the tassels near the end. You smiled at him and kissed his forehead, which made him slip a smile in his sleep. You walked off from him, and got started on his at-home therapy.

“How the hell am I gonna do this before he wakes up?” you ask yourself, after washing your face and shaking off the bad vibes.

You gathered materials for a pleasant movie night, such as snacks and soft blankets. You headed onto the kitchen, and decided to make a comfort food of Luba’s. You were almost out of food, but you managed to scrape up some chicken noodle soup, trying to keep it as light as possible. Lu’s stomach tended to get upset when he wasn’t having a good time emotionally, so you wanted him to keep everything down. You left the soup on the stove, and had it on low heat. Your feet trod along the stairs, and you checked in again on Luba, who flipped over in his sleep, still snoring your ears off. The bathroom would have to suffice, and you cleaned the tub out, then prepared a bubble bath. You tested the water, and it was warm enough for comfort, and you added the soap, vanilla scented. You made them as a hobby, and the smell permeated the room almost immediately.

The candles in the closet came to use, and you lit a few around the tub, far enough away so that no harm would be done to them. You went back downstairs, and collected more blankets, and a couple chairs. You hung the blankets at a lovely acute angle, and created a blanket fort. The spare fairy lights in the closet would have to do, and you hung them up randomly as well. You looked back at the work, and smiled at yourself, proud of the accomplishment. You walked back up the stairs, and found Luba still sleeping, breaths coming in even puffs. You walked to the side he was closest to, and brushed blonde curls from his face. His face calmed at your touch, and moved into your hand. You gently shook him awake, and he groaned at the contact, hiding his face like a cat would.

“Come on baby, wake up. Don’t want you cranky later,” you said, rubbing his back to help out. “I have some things set up for you.”

“Thank you honey. I gotta go take a quick piss, then I’ll be ready.” he whispered, arms dislodging themselves from your waist.

“Ah, take the bathroom downstairs baby. Got something in this one.” you said, almost not catching yourself. He waved his hand in acknowledgement, and walked down the stairs, and you heard the door close.

You fixed the bed, and rushed down the steps, making sure you caught Lu’s reaction to your surprise. As soon as you got there, he almost began crying again, rushing to give you a bear hug. He thanked you, and kissed the top of your head, moving down to your lips. He pecked them a couple times, and let the last one linger. His hands were at your waist, and you breathed into the kiss, letting go.

“I don’t deserve this. Why did you do this, and all for me?” he asked, tears threatening to fall.

“It’s because it’s what you deserve Luba. After all this, you need it.” you replied, hugging him.

You led him to the kitchen, and his mouth fell open once again, and he kissed the side of your head again. He peeped into the pot, and rushed to get a bowl, feet slapping against the floor. You smiled and he ladled himself a good serving, and almost ran to the living room, where his bowl almost crashed against the carpet. You smiled at his actions, and he sat down in the blanket fort. His hands clapped and he squealed at the placement of everything. You joined him and you two ate your soup in mostly peace, but was somewhat interrupted when Luba said this.

“I love you so much. I don’t know if I deserve all of this. Thank you so much honey. I really appreciate it.” Luba said, looking at you as your spoon dropped into your bowl.

“I-I love you too Luba. You’re very welcome, as you deserve all of this.” you stated, leaning over to kiss him, which he happily reciprocated. “Come on, hurry up, we’ve got a bath to take and some movies to binge-watch!” you said, playfully nibbling at his neck. He giggled, and got up soon after, taking your hand to join you in the bath.

“Thank you for all of this baby. I really mean it too. I’ve really been struggling, and I needed this. Naadie did this for me as well, and I missed it. I’ll miss her. But I’m happy that you’re here with me, and for me. I really thought I couldn’t find love after Naadirah, but you came into my life and turned it around. And I’ll forever be appreciative of that.” Lu whispered, looking you in the eye.

You blushed, and sank into the water, and he laughed at your attitude, leaning over to kiss you. The two of you continued to bathe together, chatting over some light piano in the background. Luba relaxed in the bubbles and you watched him as he slowly melted into a state of calm, almost falling asleep. You let out the water and helped him into some night clothes. You led him downstairs, and put on comfort movies. He sat in your lap, and you hugged around Luba’s middle, letting him sleep peacefully in your lap. Your hand stroked his back as he slept against you, cute snores coming from his mouth. You smiled and kissed Lu’s forehead, making sure that he slept well that night, as he always should.

Masterlist

#luba fluff #luba imagine

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