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jellyfishoreo1206 · 4 months ago

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Comfort (Sebastian Solace x reader)

Notes: Part two of Home, wanted to indulge a little more in Sebastian and Painter finally living the life they wanted. Thank you all for the love on the last one! Makes me happy to know that you guys like my short drabbles, probably or probably won't make a part three

But, we'll see ;)

Credit for the divider: @cafekitsune

God, how long were you gone for you to miss cooking? The simple preparation of the dinner you were making gave you an unbelievable amount of joy, hell even the assembly of it made you excited. You could already feel your mouth water from the multitude smells wafting throughout the home, creating a symphony of flavors. Stirring the pot one last time and tasting the soup for any last minute touches, you killed the heat before bringing out two bowls and spoons.

Peaking out the window, you see Painter at their new tablet—a wire connecting the tablet to the AI—drawing the scenery around the house with such enthusiasm, such joy seen on their screen. So far, it seems like they were drawing the sunset.

"Sebastian, dinner's ready!" Ladling the soup in the bowl, you made sure to give Sebastian's extra meat and veggies before setting it at the table. The sound of distant shuffling coming from the direction of Sebastian's room met your ears, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the curses leaving the man's mouth when he accidentally hit his tail, serving yourself soup before sitting down at the table.

Emerging from the hallway, Sebastian survey's the room, taking in every detail before heading towards the table. He changed out of his iconic jacket and ruffled shirt, now donning a clean white shirt with an added sleeve for his third arm and fresh bandages. The stitches were a bit messy, but you're willing to learn how to do so properly. His scarf was currently being washed, as the piece of clothing had a stench that was so strong it nearly made you sick—no way were you going to let that smell stain the house.

You have no idea how Sebastian withstood the smell for so long, considering he has a greater sense of smell compared to you.

Oh god, that means it must have been 10x worse for the poor man.

Considering Sebastian wouldn't be able to fit in a normal chair comfortably, you dragged over your couch to the table, that way he could eat without having to sit on his tail. You could only imagine the cramps he experienced down in the facility, cramped in a small room hours on end with no room for his tail to stretch properly. He seemed to appreciate the gesture greatly, wasting no time to stretch out his tail over the edge of the couch and getting comfortable. A quiet trill of content could be heard, his eyes closing momentarily to soak in the warmth.

"How do you feel?" Picking up your spoon, you scooped up a piece of meat and a bit of the broth, blowing on it softly before bringing it up to your mouth. A burst of flavors greeted your tastebuds, starved of the warmth and flavor of actual food, a small smile appearing on your face before eagerly going back for another scoop. Sebastian seems to mull over your question, an unreadable look settles on his face as he readjusts his position. He seems . . . unsure.

"You don't have to answer if you feel like you might breakdown breakdown thinking about it." You add, using your spoon to point in his direction, "By the way, make sure to eat your soup before it gets cold, soup is never good when cold."

"I'm not going to breakdown from a simple question." A snarky reply leaves his tongue, but it's missing that rough edge. No harm in those words.

It's . . . nice, really. Nice that he can finally be himself around you. Finally breaking down those walls.

~~~

Well, dinner was eventful to say the least.

It turns out that Sebastian had forgot what actual food tasted like, since he has been at the facility since 2015, and *cough cough* had a breakdown breakdown.

It took quite some time for him to calm down in order for him to finish eating his now cold soup, tears still streaking down his face when he did so. He didn't complain how it was cold though, he still loved it, his tail gave him away. When the bowl was empty, you encouraged him to go to bed early, since he seemed to be exhausted. Begrudgingly, he agreed with your statement, before slithering back into his room, the bumps of his tail hitting the walls on his way back.

Walking around the kitchen, you cleaned up the mess left behind. Dishes washed, counter cleaned, floor broomed. Stopping before the couch, you stared at it for a bit, mulling over whether it should be moved back to it's original place or would you have to repeatedly move it back and forth every time you had to eat.

"Well, Sebastian's going to be eating here from now on, yeah?" Leaving seems like a better option than the other two, really. Sebastian needs somewhere to eat and you're not going to make him eat on the floor. Oh god you hope you never have to do that. What time is it? A glance at the clock, 9:08 PM.

You still had some time before turning in for the night, so finishing up, you decided to chill outside with Painter for a bit before going back inside. You hope the computer doesn't mind some company, they've been outside for a while now.

"Hey Painter." Stepping outside, the summer night breeze washes over you, the smell of the wild nature hitting your nose as you walked over to the bench that Painter was set on. They seemed to have stopped painting, now just watching the night sky above, fascination written all over their screen. "Do you mind having company?'"

"No, not at all."

The stars seemed so bright tonight, leaning back more to admire it in all its beauty. Silence fell between the two of you— a breeze coming by every so often to break it—the both of you looking at the specks of light above. "You like it up here?"

A simple question sparked such a happy reaction from the AI, the brightness emitting from their screen becoming brighter. "Oh absolutely! Just after you left me outside, I saw a Flame Skimmer fly by! It seemed to circle around for a bit, but it eventually went away. Fortunately I was able to get a quick sketch of it. Oh oh! I was able to paint a few scenes while you were inside, one of them has Cumulonimbus clouds! Then-" They happily showed you their paintings and sketches they made throughout the day, enthusiasm laced in every word they spoke.

A smile present on your face, listening to their passionate rant. Maybe you could bring them to that one spot in the woods you frequented before being arrested.

Yeah, you can get used to this . . .

First Part, Next Part

#pressure sebastian #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace pressure #pressure roblox #this man needs a hug #like seriously #does he technically count as a Tumblr Sexy Man?#possibly #pressure painter #roblox #slice of life pressure ☀︎

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thejakeslayla · 1 year ago

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╰─▸❝ enhypen reaction to reader accidentally hurting themselves❞ maknae line ver.

pairing: enhypen x gn!reader ୨୧ genre: fluff ୨୧ warnings: reader getting hurt, blood, bruises, niki being annoying but adorable, reading falling down stairs,

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ yang jungwon 양정원 ✩ warnings: blood

jungwon stepped out of the kitchen for just a moment. upon returning from work, he promptly agreed to assist you with dinner. however, as he realised he needed to change, a loud crash of breaking glass and your startled exclamation drew him out of the bedroom, still in the process of putting on his shirt. he managed to finish dressing before entering the kitchen, but as he stood in the doorway, you stopped him.

“wonnie, wait! there’s glass everywhere,” you warned him but your calls didn’t seem to stop him from getting closer to you. he easily manoeuvred his way through the shards, reaching out to touch your hands.

“god, y/nnie.. what happened?” he asked. the pain was unbearable, yet you managed to endure it. when jungwon touched the inner part of your hand, you couldn't help but hiss.

he recoiled quickly, hands in the air. "i was trying to reach for this cup, didn't realise the other one was in front of it. i just didn't see it," you explained, and he listened. "i tried to catch it, but i didn't make it in time, and the glass cut me."

once again, your boyfriend held you, this time by your wrist, guiding you toward the sink. he turned on the water and, before placing your hands under it, checked the temperature.

as the blood washed away, he hummed. "thank goodness there are no deep cuts or glass pieces stuck. you need to be more careful, love."

jungwon instructed you to wash your hands slowly with soap while he cleared the glass on the floor and fetched the first aid kit from your bathroom. returning, he turned off the water, prompting you to sit on a chair. crouching in front of you, slowly and gently bandaging your wounds.

you observed how his hands moved cautiously around yours, as if afraid of causing more harm. it was as if you were so delicate that the slightest touch might break your skin. unconsciously, a smile formed on your lips.

"thank you, jungwonnie. you're the best," your whisper made him look up. his eyes seemed to brighten as they met yours—the smile that healed not only your heart but also every wound.

"be careful next time. i may not be the tallest, but it's better if you call me when you need help, okay, honey?" he advised, unaware of how much this seemingly small gesture meant to you.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ kim sunoo 김선우 ✩

"should we order something?" sunoo inquired as you both relaxed on a saturday afternoon. you shifted your gaze from your phone to his face and shook your head.

"honestly, i'm craving ramen. we can just make that," you replied. with your answer, your boyfriend nodded, removing his arm from around your waist. he stood up, and you quickly followed him to the kitchen.

while sunoo opened the door, your eyes remained glued to your phone screen, as you were finishing reading an article that was praising enhypen’s new album. you and sunoo were always very supporting of each other, but with more and more months of being together, you had become the biggest fan of sunoo's stage character. this passion led you to create a twitter account, where you shared your thoughts on new songs, posted pictures, and simply gushed about how sweet sunoo was.

lost in the article, you accidentally banged your knee on the half-open door and your first response was to bend down and grab the hurting spot with your free hand, but misjudging the distance, you also ended up hitting your head. sunoo turned back, puzzled, at the loud noises. yelping in pain, you straightened up and looked at your amused boyfriend.

"what did you do?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips

"i don't want to talk about this," you protested, placing a hand on your throbbing forehead.

he then laughed, pulling you into a hug. his hand resting on your head, pressing you to his chest. he kept laughing at your clumsiness while you tried to free yourself from the tight grip. “it’s not funny!” you said, voice muffled.

"well, it is for me," he chuckled, his hand gently caressing your head, causing you to slowly melt in his arms. "how much does it hurt?" he asked as he pulled away, planting a kiss on your red forehead.

"a lot," you admitted, and as sunoo kissed your forehead again, you blushed. “thank you,” you whispered, feeling warmth spreading to your cheeks.

"be careful, please," he insisted, his lips moving from your forehead to your cheek.

“can we forget about this and just make ramen?” you suggested and he moved away with a smile on his face, now turning to the kitchen counters.

"i can make the ramen; you sit and rest. i don't want you to hurt yourself again, bubba," sunoo insisted, and you obeyed, enjoying watching him move around the kitchen with ease.

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ nishimura riki 西村力 ✩ warnings: bruises, niki being annoying but cute

“y/n we’re going to be late!” niki's voice echoed from downstairs. the boy decided to take you out on a proper date this time. while your usual dates were casual, niki wanted to treat you to a nice restaurant, as he wanted to make it special.

not that you were complaining. you enjoyed every date niki planned; his ideas were usually very cute and just comfortable. full of laughter, fun and pure love. but when he insisted on calling this one a "real date," it unexpectedly brought on a wave of anxiety, despite you and niki being together for a long time.

"y/n!" he called again, and you knew you had to head downstairs before niki could get mad, which rarely happens. you left the bedroom, dressed in an unexpectedly elegant outfit – a departure from your usual attire for outings with your boyfriend. it was also the first time you'd see niki dressed similarly.

the shoes you wore added height, and as you hurried downstairs, you realized you weren't accustomed to walking in them. (since it’s gender neutral, you can either imagine platforms or heels, the choice is all yours) as you ran downstairs, your heel missed a step, causing you to tumble down the staircase. unfortunately, you were almost at the top of staircase. niki watched, frozen in place, as you went down, the fall seeming to stretch on forever.

it was happening so fast, you couldn’t even grab the railing, only a few seconds after, trying to slow down by using your hands. finally stopping on the last step, tears welled up in your eyes, the pain being unbearable. niki chuckled initially, but concern quickly replaced his laughter. "baby, are you okay?" he rushed over.

"do i look okay, nishimura?" you retorted, attempting anger that your wobbly voice betrayed.

"it's okay, y/nnie. grab my hands, please. i'll help you, okay?" niki could read you well, understanding you needed him right now. "oh, you big baby, stop being grumpy and let me help you," he added when you hesitated.

with a heavy sigh, you took his hands. "you were supposed to be my knight in shining armor and catch me in time," you huffed.

he only shook his head and guided you to the couch so you could sit down. your hip was hurting so much, it was impossible to walk correctly, so you slightly limped. niki quickly noticed, grabbing your waist and using more of his strength to help you.

when you sat down, another heavy sigh left your lips. niki, uncertain of his role in taking care of you, stood there, unsure. usually you were the responsible one, taking care of him when he’s hurting. the roles were never reversed, so he was just lost.

"can i see?" he finally asked, eyes on your hip. "we need to check the damage after your close encounter with our stairs," he said, earning an eye roll from you. after a moment, you nodded.

when niki uncovered your bare skin, he gasped. "baby, this is insane. it's not even on your hip; it's all over the side of your thigh," he said, making you look over. for some reason the boy reached out to touch it and the fear of him touching it was enough to make you scream.

“are you insane?” you squeaked, moving away from niki.

“y/n, do you think me, your amazing boyfriend would ever hurt you?” he asked and you gave him a serious look. “okay, back then i hit you with the ball by accident.”

"you literally yelled, 'y/n, catch this,' and then decided to throw the ball with your full strength." his silence spoke volumes. "go grab ice from the freezer, wrap it with a thin towel, go to the bathroom, and grab the ointment and bandages. my hands are all cut up," you instructed, and he hurried to comply.

it took him a while, maybe if he remembered everything it would be easier. but finally he returned with everything. he tried to gently put the ice pack against your skin, but well.. niki wasn’t the best at taking care of bruises like that.

“oh my god, niki. i will kill you,” you said, when the pain doubled after he not so slowly and not so gently touched your bruise with hard and cold ice.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he quickly apologized. "here, call the restaurant and tell them we won't make it," he said, passing his phone to you, contact to the restaurant displayed on screen.

“but, niki, you really wanted to go–”

“are you insane?” he repeated your previous words, “we're not going, not when you're hurting like that. we can go another time; you're more important than good food.”

“you're the best—DON’T POKE IT, ARE YOU STUPID—”

#thejakeslayla #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x you #sunoo x reader #jungwon x reader #riki x reader #niki x reader #enhypen #enha

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measlyfurball13 · 1 month ago

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I'm Still Here

Summary: Curly is rescued. He is given a voice. Supposedly.

---

It’s all a blur. Men in suits with helmets. Men in suits without. Any memories Curly might have of the rescue and its aftermath are blurred around the edges. He’s sure he drooled and screamed all through the process.

Funny. He doesn’t remember the pain. It’s as if his mind has painted over it in an easier color on the eyes.

(He remembers her saying the same thing happens after childbirth-)

It’s only a few hours after the IV is jammed into his arm that reality crisps up again. He’s staring into the face of a nurse. The nurse is a he, and a different skin tone (than him) and utterly unrecognizable. That’s the first clue.

The second is the woman in the crisp suit. A lawyer, supposedly. Civil servant. Looking over him and sighing. Another woman enters and they discuss conservatorship. Curly doesn’t know what this means. He’s never had to worry about it. He grunts, even tries to form his lips into the shape of something, but nothing makes them turn to him and clue him in on anything.

Next comes someone dressed in a slouched sweater pulling a cart. They’re setting up some sort of device around him. It takes several days though, and in the moments between the lawyer comes back, mutters a few things about an accident investigation, then disappears again.

The nurse usually doesn’t talk when he visits but one time he sits down in the chair across the room and solemnly says that both of Curly’s parents died in the time it took for the rescue team to find him and that his next of kin is a cousin. Cousin Sue, Curly guesses. She lived all the way in New York.

The machine is completed. A screen hangs above his hospital bed. The person in the slouched sweater instructs him to look at the twenty-six letters on the screen, focus on the one he wants, and blink to select it.

It takes him three hours to first produce the word “HELLO.”

“Practice and you’ll get the hang of it.” Slouched sweater says.

Slouched sweater leaves. The nurse comes in. Moves the screen. Changes his bandages. Sets up the screen again. Leaves just before Curly can type “HELLO” to him.

(A single word. A single word. He would have given anything for just a single word to her.)

Now the lawyer drags the chair beside his bed and sits down. She’s holding a notepad and a pen.

“Tell me,” she says, slowly, “what happened aboard the Tulpar.”

He forgets to breathe.

“What,” she says, “caused,” she says, “the accident?”

Words pierce his brain like knives, his eye darts around the keyboard and his eyelid can’t keep up and it blinks without his command. Letters spill across the screen and he’s having to backspace them and-

The lawyer has put down the notepad and has opened her phone. She’s texting someone else. Then she takes a call. Then she answers some emails.

-Curly finally blinks ‘send’ on the console, and a tinny voice reads out “JIMMY.”

“Hmm?” The lawyer looks up from her phone. “Jimmy? As in, your co-pilot?”

“Y” Curly sends, hoping that the lawyer can at least wrap her head around something as simple as that.

“Go on.” The lawyer urges.

Curly exhales against his bandages, and types “E” and “S”.

“What about him?”

“K”. Then “I”. “L” and “L”, the lawyer is pulling out her phone again. His eye hurts, it’s refusing to move at all now and this dumb bitch isn’t-

He flinches. God, he’s so sorry. He’s so sorry and she deserved none of this and maybe if he’d been a better man and not a goddamned coward and taken some responsibility then maybe she’d be listening to him right now instead.

The lawyer glances up from her phone. “Yes, Jimmy was found deceased. Your cryo pod was the only one functioning. It seems he gave up his spot for you. My condolences for your loss.”

Something more burning than the fire rips through his stomach and he forces his eye back onto the screen. “E” and “D”, then space, then “E”, then “V”, “E” and “R”, “Y”, his vision is wavering, “O”, “N”, he can practically feel his non-existent hand tapping on the screen to finish the job, “E”. . .

His eyelid slams shut. He can tell, vaguely, that his cheek bandages are damp but whether that’s normal or from anything spilling out of his eye is beyond him. His neck twitches from the strain.

He coughs. Forces his eye open. The lawyer looks at the screen. Looks back down at her phone. Looks at the screen again. Her eyebrows raise.

“Are you sure?” She asks.

Of course I’m fucking sure! he could shout and shake her shoulders.

“This was not the fault of Pony Express or its parent corporation?”

“N”, then “O”, and now she’s actually paying attention. Something hungry lights up in her eyes, and she takes a picture of the screen and then starts furiously scribbling on her notepad.

—

“-in this room right here, ma’am.” The nurse opens the door.

Curly looks over. Following the nurse is Cousin Sue, her blond locks he remembers now turned more platinum. She stops in the doorway and covers her mouth with her hands.

“Were you not warned?” The nurse asks her.

She ignores him, running over by the bedside. “Oh you poor thing!”

Curly tries to flick his eyes towards the screen, only for liquid lightning to pour into all his senses when she grabs the stump of his left arm. He chokes on air. The burning sensation lingers even as she jerks her hand away.

“Take it easy, ma’am.” The nurse says.

“Why was it wet?” She mutters and shakes out her hand.

“Some leakage from blisters beneath the bandages. He’s okay. Try to be gentle.”

“God. It’s horrific. I can hardly. . .”

The nurse drags her over a chair as if she might collapse any minute. Curly’s nerve endings are still on fire. She still hasn’t made eye contact with him.

“H”, he types. “I”. Blinks to send. “HI.”

“Hi.” She echoes. “He said hi.”

“The law firm hooked him up. That’s how we know the full story.”

It wasn’t the full story. It was the story told in simple enough words that the lawyer would stay awake while he typed.

“God. What happened was. . . so terrible.” Sue covers her mouth. “I’m sure he did everything he could.”

“I’ll leave you two alone now.” The nurse steps back.

The door clicks shut. Sue’s watery eyes rake up and down his frame.

“It’s all that bastard’s fault, isn’t it? And to think you even invited him to a family reunion or two. I remember that.”

Curly looks to the “N”. Blinks. Looks to the “O”. Blinks. Erases both. Blinks an “M”. Then a “Y”. Space. “F”. “A-”

“Disgusting man. Letting you get like this. I’m sorry about the rest of the crew as well, of course. At least they got the easy way out of things. . .”

Curly stares at the wall behind the screen. Something inside his throat trembles.

“What’s going on? Do you need something? Water? Water perhaps?”

Sue looks around her before spotting the sink across the room. She grabs a cup from the nearby dispenser and fills it. Then she returns to his bedside, standing over him and then there’s his fingers on his chin opening his mouth and-

He gags. He sobs. Something wet splashes against the inside of his mouth (it’s blood it’s blood it’s blood) and nausea plays a soaring note above the chorus.

He becomes nothing but a shivering pile of meat for a little. It’s more comfortable that way rather than trying to think. And when he opens his eyes again, Sue is gone.

—

Curly knows there isn’t much time left. When Sue came back she talked about a private care home, and if there’s even a chance of the screen not coming with then he can’t risk it. He’s started typing only when there’s no one around to read it. It’s easier that way.

Sue and the nurse come in. They’re discussing something but Curly can hardly hear them until the nurse puts his hand on the swivel holding up the screen. Curly’s pulse lights up, and before anyone else can even breathe he blinks “send” on the console.

The tinny voice reads each syllable as if it were reporting the weather.

“I’M SORRY SWANSEA.”

“I’M SORRY DAISUKE.”

“ANYA. I’M SORRY. MY FAULT.”

“I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED. DEAD PIXEL. INSTEAD OF THE BIG PICTURE.”

Curly lets his eye droop down from the screen.

“. . . what was all that?” Sue asks.

The nurse comes over to his bedside. “Are you feeling alright?”

Curly doesn’t look at him. Doesn’t need to.

All the words he could possibly offer are jammed. Like logs against the rocks beneath the water of the river he grew up by as a kid. Or traffic in the big city he moved to after moving out. Or a key in the wrong keyhole. (Or pills in his throat.)

All of these pictures he could paint. The only people who would find it worth the wait are all dead. Somehow Jimmy is among them.

Damn it all. Curly stares at the ceiling. The nurse takes down the screen and then manhandles him into a wheelchair.

#mouthwashing spoilers #mouthwashing #mouthwashing curly #captain curly #cw ableism #cw ableist language #alllllllll the ableism #aac communication #Pony Express offers only the finest aac system for its employees!#and somehow that's only a quarter of the actual problem!#in this house we humanize curly again please

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littlebluespoon · 1 year ago

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Stranded - Octo!König (Part 4)

Hello! Here's Part 4, as promised even though it's the next morning for me :)

1.5Kwords, 18+ non-humanoid sex toys and obsessive behaviour in this chapter

AO3 link

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

---

(stole pic from google sorry)

Once again, you were going weeks without properly seeing König. You’d catch his shoulder disappearing around a corner or the sound of suckers echoing in an empty hallway but no actual sightings of a giant man or bright octopus. For you, life was mostly normal. Patching up soldiers, bandaging up Soap after he gave himself happy tail again and hanging out with the rest of the taskforce while on downtime,

“Soap, you cannot rocket jump in real life. You. Would. Die.” If this had been the first time you’d had to explain this to the canine hybrid you might have had a little more patience but seeing as it was not, you were ready to throw something at him,

“But whit if we weren’ human?” Soap’s enthusiasm at least was endearing. So giving him an exasperated smile you just shook your head and moved on while noting to refill your supply of painkillers and burn salves.

It was currently just you and Soap in the small kitchenette in the taskforce’s assigned rooms, you had no patients to see and Soap had the day off given his ‘extensive injuries’ so the two of you had taken over the games console and were having a competitive tournament in Mario Kart, loser has to steal a piece of clothing from Ghost. Currently it was 2-2 and you were on the last match so now it was getting dirty,

“So was the LT around when you broke your tail?” you teased, hoping for him to take his eyes off the screen,

“Oi! At least I wasn’ the one wi’ hickeys all o’er their neck,” he fired back, smugly like he’d been expecting your teasing.

“They weren’t hickeys! …They were bruises…” you refused to look at him, knowing exactly the expression on his face having seen it far too much for your liking,

“Isnt that what hickeys are?” you decide that driving off the edge of Rainbow Road was the better option, take the loss and deal with the consequences later.

Seeing as you have 24 hours to steal from Ghost you left Soap to his gloating and went off to find out where Ghost was before breaking into his room. After finding out from a passing corporal that Ghost was in a meeting with Price, and double checking the hall was clear so no one else would catch you breaking into your superiors quarters, you picked the lock on his door before quickly running in and grabbing the first item from the laundry basket, a shirt with his name on it. Perfect for your bet, not so great if anyone else sees however. Ignoring all of that you run back to Soap, completely missing the seething bright orange octopus attached to the ceiling above you.

-----

Retreating to you room after dinner without having to take a mountain of paperwork with you was a luxury but seeing as the 141 hadn’t been called out in several weeks, you’d had plenty of time to catch up on it. Which means your plans for the night were finishing your current read and maybe starting a new one if there was time. Of course those plans depended on you getting to your room, it seemed like every four or five steps you were stopped by a Kortac soldier,

“Do you know where the colonel is?” “Do you think you could look at something for me?” “I want a second opinion on this rash,” “Could you..?” “Would you..?”

By the time you escaped them your plans of finishing your book were out the window. However as you approached your door, all your plans went out the window. There was a box outside your door, plain brown, not small but also not massive. It looked like it held a water bottle or something. The hallway was empty and there wasn’t anything to tell who had left it but given that you were on base you were pretty sure it wasn’t anything dangerous so as you closed your door you decided it could wait until after you’d gotten changed into comfier clothes and out of your uniform.

The nondescript box didn’t have much weight to it so you were expecting it was maybe mislabelled bandages or some other medical dressing so when you scored open the box you were surprised by the nice stationary. High quality textured paper, a subtle peach colour with typed lettering;

Think of me My Heart

An odd note but what was even odder was the other object in the box. A bright orange tentacle. About as big as your fist, with a marbled look of orange and teal, and made of silicon. Someone had left you a tentacle shaped sex toy. Upon recognition a yelp leaves your mouth and you’ve thrown the box across your room before you had even realised you’d moved. You know exactly who sent it, you just couldn’t understand why. You barely know each other, you don’t even think he’s said more than 10 words to you outside of missions or commands. You’re the medic on base with the most aquatic hybrid training, that’s the only reason you see him so often so why would he do this? Or maybe he didn’t, maybe it’s a prank? It could be Soap getting back at you for teasing or even Ghost for stealing his shirt or maybe even a Kortac soldier trying to rile up their colonel or something. It could have been anything, it was probably just a prank because you didn’t want to even entertain the thought that König had sent you this. He was a friend, it was a tentative relationship but you called it friendship as after everything you’d been through with him it was a little hard to just call each other acquaintances. It’s a prank, so you boxed it back up and shoved it to the back of your wardrobe to be never seen again.

Trying to get to sleep was difficult. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and every time you turned around it felt like the blankets were suffocating you. After an hour of this you decided to check your room, turning on all the lights, opening all the doors and doing a well-known routine to you. Unlock, open and check, relock. You did that with all the cupboards, you pulled your bed apart and reorganised your desk, kit bag and wardrobe. Nothing, there wasn’t a thing for you to be paranoid about and you’d made sure of it. Climbing back into bed exhausted, you settled into the blankets and closed your eyes. The blankets no longer heavy on you, the hairs on the back of your neck were soft and yet, you still felt watched.

-----

In the bright light of the morning the box looked no different and thankfully your paranoia had waned, so there was no interruption to your morning schedule. Not until you had you leave your room, which is where you found another sheet of peach coloured paper, folded next to an envelope. The fear stopped you in your tracks. Once again there was no one in sight, no noises to indicate a person either and you hadn’t heard anything while getting dressed. Deciding to deal with it before breakfast seemed like a smart decision at the time because if you’d known what was in the envelope after breakfast you were sure you’d never have kept it down;

My Dearest Heart,

You must think me a cowardly man for this but I felt this was the best way to approach you. I could not hear you last night, were you holding in your heavenly sounds so that no one else might hear? You need not worry Heart, I would never let anyone else near you. Not even the feral Lieutenant you seem so fascinated by. I do hope you liked my present and that you enjoy this one too, although I admit these were more for my pleasure.

With all My Love,

Your Soul

You could feel your heart escaping from its cage with every word you read. You were a soldier, you’d been in battle, you’d nearly died. There had been scarier moments in your life than this. So how was it this is the only time you’ve ever wanted to curl up in the back of a cupboard and never face the world again? You didn’t want to open the envelope. You never meant to open the envelop but your hands were shaking as you moved to stuff the letter with your first unwanted gift. It slipped and that’s when you discovered it wasn’t sealed and its contents had spilt all across your floor. Pictures of you were scattered across your floor. You; eating, working, training, in the gym, in the shower and even in your bed. You had been watched. Someone had been watching you for months.

#bluespoonswriting #call of duty fanfic #octo!könig #cod fanfic #call of duty x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #octo!konig #könig x you #könig x y/n

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erina-writes-headcanons · 1 year ago

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Himuro Tatsuya, Hanamiya Makoto, and Aomine Daiki Dating Headcannons

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Hello, there Anon. This is for the Dating Headcannons after you ask the Jealous Headcannons! I hope you like the final result and I'm sorry if there might be some OOC characters.

Gender: Neutral Warning: None except a few profanities

➽───────────────❥➽───────────────❥

Himuro Tatsuya - Yōsen Academy High School

Can be affectionate but not too much in public. He prefers holding your hand or just a simple kiss on the forehead but once you two are back. He would love to give you a cuddle and give you tiny pecks.

He also likes a human version of a backpack, you forget to bring something? He already has the stuff inside of the pocket of his pants. (For example, you forgot to bring your lotion? It's already in his pocket and ready to give it to you).

A gentleman, he does not believe in fifty-fifty. He would pay for the meals and the drinks if you two decide to go to the restaurant or to the cafe together.

Very caring, if you are sick or injured. He already prepared the bandages and the antiseptic to clean your wounds or a painkiller or any other medicine if you are sick that day.

Tons of woman are going to be jealous of you and would be glaring dagger back at you because you have a hot boyfriend who cares about you and they wishes that they have a boyfriend like him.

A good listener, he would listen to you every rent even if you are making fun of someone or even if he doesn't really understand the topic (but he tries to give the best answer).

(Imma say this-) Senpai in the street but hentai in the sheet. His innocent looks always fool you because he acts like he hasn't just said something that made you red and would put on an innocent smile when someone is speaking to him.

Rarely gets mad at you because he knows he's the type who's angry, he would say hurtful things so it's better to give some space for him when he is in a bad mood.

Always had his poker face on so it was going to be hard to decipher his emotion so you had to learn. When he's angry, he usually has a more stern tone but when he is normal, he would use a softer tone around you.

Ⰶ║ �� ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

On a sunny afternoon, the sun goes down after it is in the highest spot in the sky and burns everyone with its heat. In the hall of the Yōsen school, a person with (H/C) hair colour with (H/L) hair length, (E/C) eye colour, and (S/C) skin colour standing near the locker of the school.

(Y/N) glances around as your eyes look for the certain prince charming. The two of you had been busy with all of the homework and the projects that were given by the lecturer and (Y/N) along with the prince charming had missed each other so much that they decided to hang out after his basketball practice.

Sighing in boredom, (Y/N)'s eyes would keep shifting between the hallway of the school and then the screen on her/his/their phone. "(Y/N)-san?" You hear a familiar sound calling your name. Glancing up, the stunning gave an apologetic smile to you for making you wait. "Were you waiting for me? I'm really sorry for making you wait. Coach Masako told us to clean up after our practice," Himuto said. "It's okay, at least you were just a little bit late. Not bailing out on our date," (Y/N) smiles and closes her/his/their eyes.

His fingers gently intertwined between your fingers and gently pulling you closer to him. Your cheeks change from the (S/C) and turn into a red hue, his little gesture is adorable. "I'm not sure if you had your lunch or not but if you have. I know a great place that sells tasty sweets," the shooting guard of Yōsen said. "Oh, don't worry. I already ate. Where are you going to bring me?" You ask. "It's a surprise," he places his finger on your lips, teasing you as he put on his innocent smile.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Just like a gentleman, the captain of Yōsen player pushes the glass door open to let you get inside. The ambience of the pastry shop was comforting, the floor was made out of Mahogany wood planks and the wall had a picture of a Victorian old city along with an old phonograph placed next to the cupboard that was full of beautiful decorated mugs.

(Y/N) is amazed by the sight of the pastry, its warm and inviting display creating a cozy atmosphere. Entranced by the delicious array before them, Himuro gently takes (Y/N)'s hands. "You should see the sweets this pastry has. I think they have your favourite dessert," Himuro told you. (Y/N) nods in agreement, captivated by the words of the pasty has your favourite dessert, and follows Himuro to the cashier.

At the cashier, (Y/N) gazes at the dessert menu, their/her/his eyes lighting up with joy upon finding the name of the treat you desires. Sensing (Y/N)'s excitement, Himuro glances at the cashier. "Excuse me, ma'am. I would like a plate of (Favorite Dessert) and pretzels. How much would it be?" Himuro asks the old woman in front of him. "Alright, that will be ¥858.00," The cashier confirms the couple.

Before (Y/N) could retrieve her/his/their wallet, Himuro swiftly took out his phone and activated the camera to scan the barcode for payment. A surprised (Y/N) watches as Himuro pays for the desserts, a gesture that catches them/him/her off guard.

You had intended to split the cost, willing to share the expense and not burden your boyfriend. "Himuro-san, it's okay. I can pay for myself," you told him, feeling a sense of guilt for not wanting to burden him with the entire expense. Himuro gazes at (Y/N) with a gentle smile, shaking his head as he reassures, "It's okay, (Y/N)-san. Besides, I asked you to hang out with me, so it is only fair that I pay for our date,"

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

Hanamiya Makoto

Aren't affectionate unless he wants to brag you in front of his teammate. He wants to rub in everyone's faces that he has a hot S/O and the rest are still single.

A tease and also a sadist, he likes to degrade you and makes fun of you but he won't hurt you that bad since you are his S/O. Also, won't apologize unless he saw you cry and he would begrudgingly apologize for hurting you.

If you don't like Dark jokes and creepy jokes. I'm sorry but he won't be good for you because the only thing that can make him laugh genuinely and think it's funny are dark and creepy jokes.

Be careful how you act, he is observant so if you lie. He already knew that you were lying to him and he would investigate the truth without you knowing it.

Do you want him to be less asshole to you? The answer is simple, bribe him with dark chocolate (Not always working, this only works if you want him to teach you when you two study). He loves them.

Actually, if you know how to banter around and aren't sensitive. You would most likely see him actually joking around with you, he can be pretty funny but he only shows it to certain people.

It's canon that he likes idiotic s/o because he could manipulate them BUT that's how are you not gonna survive dating him. YOU HAVE TO outsmart him because he would purposely put you in a situation you do not want to.

Surprisingly, he's not all that mean to his S/O. Since you are his soft spot, he would be willing to share his chocolate with you. He has never let ANYONE touch his chocolate.

He likes to tease you in public. He would whisper lots of dirty things in your ear until you were red from embarrassment and then smile innocently before shrugging when someone asked why are you red.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

It was not usually for Hanamiya to initiate outings, especially considering his usual busy schedule with basketball activities. However, two days ago, to (Y/N)'s surprise, Hanamiya unexpectedly asked you to go on a date through text messages instead of face-to-face.

Hanamiya's invitation to go out at six o'clock in the afternoon, right after the club activity, struck (Y/N) as strange. Knowing Hanamiya's usual demeanour and that he wasn't one to make spontaneous requests, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel that there might be some underlying plan or surprise involved. This could be a good thing or a bad thing for (Y/N).

This unusual request raised suspicions for (Y/N), but being Hanamiya's boyfriend/girlfriend/romantic partner. (Y/N) chose to dismiss any concerns. As (Y/N) got ready in their bedroom, carefully selected what would you wear later once you two met. It was quite cold outside so it would be a bad idea to wear something short or you would freeze to death.

Having chosen the perfect attire, (Y/N) lays the long-sleeve turtleneck sweater and the pants down on the bed, and hangs the jacket neatly on a hook. With everything in place, (Y/N) heads to the bathroom to take a refreshing shower, she/they/he could not wait for the upcoming date. The sound of running water fills the air as (Y/N) readies themselves for the evening ahead.

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

Standing outside the cinema, (Y/N) anxiously waits, scanning the surroundings for the distinctive figure of the guy with bushy eyebrows. Glancing at the time on their phone, a twinge of concern arises, fearing that Hanamiya might bail on you.

Suddenly, a familiar male voice calls out (Y/N)'s name from a distance. Looking up, they/she/he spots Hanamiya strutting towards them, hands casually tucked into his pockets. A mixture of relief and curiosity washes over (Y/N) after knowing Hanamiya won't bail on the date. "Oh, you came...I thought you were not going to come," Hanamiya mutters to himself. "Let's go inside, I already booked the ticket and the seat online, we can just buy the popcorn," Hanamiya steps inside.

It would typically be a sweet gesture for a boyfriend to have already booked the cinema seats online, sparing both partners the hassle of waiting in line. However, considering Hanamiya's unpredictable nature, (Y/N) can't help but purse her/his/their lips together, silently cursing under her/his/their breath. "Hanamiya-san, what movie ticket did you buy for us?" you asked him.

The certain Kirisaki Daiichi captain just responds with a smirk across his face. "You'll find out soon," the male taunted you. With a subtle yet possessive gesture, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to the scanning area which is next to the cashier. The red light from the computer reads the barcode on Hanamiya's phone and the sound of the paper getting printed out could be heard from the printing machine.

As the printing machine churns out the ticket, Hanamiya snatches it, and (Y/N) takes a glimpse, only for their/her/his eyes to widen in surprise. Having heard from friends that it's one of the scariest movies, a mix of shock and fear washes over (Y/N). "I hope you're not that scared, (Y/N)~" Hanamiya stuck his tongue out as you glances up at him, his playful tone adding a hint of mischief to the unexpected choice of movie.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

Aomine Daiki

A big tease and loved to annoy the hell out of you, he also loved to make you embarrassed either when he was using pick-up lines on you or when he was touching you either casually or sexually.

Arcade dates! Going to show off when you two play basketball games together and brags to you that he has a higher score than you and the reason why he is the 'ace'.

But if you don't like Arcade, he would love to just bring you around those Japanese festivals and try some street foods (and If you two get older. He would bring you to those extreme places like bungee jumping since he has enough money to travel).

No shame at all, if you can cook or bake delicious food. He would shamelessly steal it from you and if you try to take it back. He would raise his hands up so you could not reach them at all while smiling like a devil.

Have you ever wondered how it feels like to raise a cat as big as a human? Well, he's the perfect answer. He just acts like a damn cat because sometimes he doesn't want to be cuddled and then he would be all over you, demanding to be cuddled.

He acts as if he is a chill boyfriend but nope. he is protective of you, and he would glare at anyone who dares to touch you and if anyone is being creepy? THEY ARE GOING TO END UP LIKE HAIZAKI GOT PUNCHED BUT WORSE.

Caring but doesn't know how to show it so he acts like a damn Tsundere. For instance, if you are sick from overworking. He would buy those horrible ramen from the convenience store and call you an idiot for getting sick.

Kind of a terrible boyfriend (for the first time) because he would say insensitive things. Especially if you two fight, not only he is moody but he would say hurtful stuff, give you the silent treatment, and be very easily angered.

But also can be a cute boyfriend, he will always be proud of you. Even if it was a small achievement, he would even brag about it to his teammate (and Wakamatsu gonna scream 'SHUT UP!')

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

Aomine stands in front of another basketball player, blocking the rival team from getting close to Touou's basketball ring. In a swift move, Aomine executes as his hands slap the ball against the ball from the player's hand before sprinting towards the opposing team's basketball hoop.

As the Ace of the Touou basketball team floats in the air, he launches the ball into the air, and the satisfying swish resonates through the court as it smoothly glides through the hoop. The blaring sounds of the alarm signal the victory for Touou School.

Amidst the cheers and applause from the spectators celebrating Touou's victory, the ace player's attention remains fixated on a particular individual with (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes. Aomine's gaze scans the crowd, hoping to catch (Y/N)'s reaction to his impressive play.

As his eyes lock onto (Y/N)'s form, a genuine sense of happiness lights up Aomine's expression. A triumphant smirk graces his face, knowing that he has left (Y/N) in awe of his skills on the court, and their admiration is the most rewarding response he could hope for as (Y/N)'s eyes gleamed in the light, shouting his name. "AOMINE!!! YOU DID IT!!!" she clapped her hands and cupped her mouth with the hands facing outwards

‿︵‿︵＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／︵‿︵‿Timeskip

After the intense game, (Y/N) hurriedly makes their/her/his way down from the bench and waits eagerly in the hallway. As the door swings open, revealing Aomine in his uniform, having discarded the sweaty jersey, (Y/N)'s face lights up. Without hesitation, (Y/N) joyfully leaps into Aomine's arms, exclaiming, "I'm proud of you!!"

Aomine, caught off guard by the sudden embrace, can't help but return the sentiment with his arms wrapped around your waist before you can hit the floor and hold you in the air. "Woah there tiger, don't just go jumping on me," He held (Y/N) closer, his smirk deepened as he held you closer.

Aomine's teasing prompts a faint blush on (Y/N)'s cheeks, though they/she/he quickly rolls their/her/his eyes in response. With a touch of sass, (Y/N) retorts, "You wish," before smoothly getting down from his arms. Eager to shift the focus to celebrating the victory, (Y/N) enthusiastically suggests, "Let's go out somewhere to celebrate your victory." "Ehh, I don't really care about this stuff. Maybe we can go maji burger?"Aomine suggests, expressing his craving for a burger.

(Y/N) looks at him with a hint of unamusement. "Really? You want fast food?" you remark, raising an eyebrow. Aomine sighs, contemplating for a moment, before a smirk graces his face. "Alright, I know a place where we can eat some Okonomiyaki. How about that?" mentioning there's an okonomiyaki place near the gymnasium and it's quite popular.

"Sure, we can eat okonomiyaki together," you agree, a smile playing on your lips as Aomine takes one of your hands. Together, the two of you walk away, hand in hand, ready to go to celebrate his victory. Despite it was not a fancy place, it would still leave a memory of the two of you having a simple date.

Ⰶ║ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ ⵈ║Ⰶ

❀

#kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #knb headcanons #knb imagines #knb scenarios #knb fluff #kuroko no basquet #himuro tatsuya #knb himuro #himuro x reader #himuro headcanons #aomine daiki #knb aomine #aomine x reader #aomine headcanons #hanamiya makoto #knb hanamiya #hanamiya x reader #hanamiya headcanons

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its-wabby-stuff · 2 years ago

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So everyone’s been punching back for @somerandomdudelmao post. If you know, you know, and if you don’t where have you been? And I saw one of the reblog’s today of Casey and Donnie and it got the cogs in my brain running. So here is a potentially possible outcome for the future:

———————

Here’s the thing. Casey knew the fight was over. They had won and the Krang weren’t here anymore. Of course, the entire event hadn’t come without its own consequences. Most of downtown New York had been destroyed. People had been injured and people had died. The government had stepped in to take care of most of the tragedy. And the event itself made international news.

But Casey didn’t care about most of that. He wasn’t even sure what most of it meant, just the ramblings he heard from the family as they recovered. They hadn’t left the lair since that day. They couldn’t afford too. The city was in a state of panic, and all of them had sustained injuries, the worst of which being Leonardo.

He had been asleep for days. It was vital for recovery, Casey knew, but the whole thing made him incredibly nervous. Casey felt like a little kid again, sitting on a chair with his knees up to his chest, just watching him. Donatello rarely left Leo’s side either. His own injuries meant he needed attention, and with Leo out, he had the best medical expertise on the machines they’d hooked him up too. Casey often asked questions, which Donnie was eager to answer. That much was the same.

Casey had long since changed out of his resistance garb, being offered a variety of clothes from each of the boys. He never let go of his mask though. That was much too important to him. Gifts and reminders from all the people he loved most.

He was alone today. With Leo. Donatello had entrusted him with enough information for any sort of emergency. But it meant he was allowed to think. He fiddled with the mask in his hands, tracing the markings he had painted on and the scratches it had received out on the field. He let his legs fall into a cross-cross as he slipped the mask onto his face and turned it on. Uncle Tello had left many tidbits of information, recordings and plans for an eventual future where we had won. Not even in his wild imaginations could he have imagined that future in the past. And now there were a million things Casey wanted answered that weren’t saved on his Uncles little device. He had a favorite file, however. One he’d rewatched a million times before.

“Is it working?” He watched Uncle Tello tilt up the camera. Behind him were all the people he loved: Sensei Leonardo, Master Michelangelo, robotic Uncle Raph, Commander O’Niel, and himself.

“It may be older than us, but it still works,” Uncle Tello replied.

“The little red light is blinking right?” Master Michelangelo flew over, looking at the camera upside down with amazement. Uncle Tello pushed him outta the way.

“Despite its primitive nature, it seems to be completely intact. Nothing askew. It’s quite impressive. Great find, Casey Jones.”

Sensei scooped up the kid and ruffled his hair.

“There’s not much storage space left on the card, so we better make it short and sweet. How about a picture? For my archives.” Everybody gathered close together as the timer started counting down. “Everybody say: Genius Built Apparel rules!!”

The video stopped there. Paused on a picture of all of them together. Casey couldn’t help but let out a couple tears, hidden by the mask. It might have been the apocalypse, but it was familiar and comforting, and here, they had all been happy.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Unc- Donatello!” Casey looked over, his view still obstructed by the photo paused on his screen. “No, no everything is fine, I was just-“ he pulled his mask off and wiped away whatever remnants of tears he had before he looked up at the turtle who had just entered the room. He didn’t have any of his tech on, using his wooden Bo staff to assist his walking, and his bandages had been covered by the presence of an oversized purple hoodie. Casey stared at him, “reliving old memories. Un- Donnie, are you feeling alright?” Casey stood up, panic ever present on the boys face.

Donnie just gave a perplexing look in response. “Are you?”

“I-“ The Krang are gone, Casey. This isn’t like when Uncle Tello got sick. This isn’t the same. There’s no way the Krang would’ve- could’ve. They couldn’t have. How would they? Tears fell down Casey’s face as he sat back down.

Donnie regretted asking the second he had. He wasn’t any good with this sort of stuff and he had clearly been crying before and now he was crying again. There was something on his mind. “I’ll go get Mikey-“

Casey grabbed Donnie’s hand, and his immediate response was to pull away, but he suppressed the urge when he felt how clammy Casey’s hands were, and how they shook just a little. “Uncle Tello, you- you aren’t going to die, are you?”

Donnie had never heard Casey call him that before. And he said it softly, and nervously, not even looking him in the eyes.

“You think a quarrel with an alien species is enough to get rid of me?”

Casey didn’t say anything. In fact what Donnie said didn’t seem to help the situation any at all. And Donnie was starting to put all the little pieces together. Something had happened to him in the future. Something not good.

“Casey, did something happen to me in the future? Did-“ he wasn’t sure if he should ask it but his curiosity took ahold of him, “did I die?”

Casey lurched forward and wrapped his arms around Donnie. Which was a surprising response, but all he needed to know the answer was yes. Despite how quickly it had happened, Casey was incredibly gentle about it. His hands still shook a little as he rested his head into Donnie’s chest.

Honestly, Donnie was a little upset by all this new information. He hadn’t survived the apocalypse, and he had been close to Casey Jones, who had to witness his death. He couldn’t imagine how crazy this entire week had been for Casey. Donnie still wasn’t sure what exactly caused this reaction from him, but slowly, he leaned down, grabbing around Casey’s back and hugging tightly.

Casey let out a breath and hugged tighter, absolutely collapsing, shaking incredibly and crying into Donnie’s favorite purple hoodie. Keep it together, the hoodie can always be washed. For once, Donnie didn’t need to wonder what to do, because this felt like enough. And no words needed to be said.

Only in Casey’s wildest dreams was he able to hug Uncle Tello again. He knew Donnie was never a big fan of physical affection but he’d always seemed to make an exception for him. Old or young, and for a minute it didn’t matter that this wasn’t the Donnie he knew. It didn’t matter that they were now the same age, or that Casey was actually taller. Or how he could feel Donnie loosening and trying to end it. No matter how long this moment was, it would never be long enough.

———————

Ahahaha. I don’t even know. Thanks for reading. Likes and Reblogs appreciated!!

#I dunno I’m literally making this up as I go #wabbystuffpost #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise donnie #rise casey #Donatello #casey jones Jr #ptsd #I mean surely that would bring up some memories #I have a hard time knowing when and how to stop so sorry if it ends up rub you #abruptly #honestly because life doesn’t ever stop and there are always moments in between it’s super hard to stop writing sometimes #I know what happens before and after this #but I just wanted to capture one moment #Donnie went to get his hoodie because he was cold #and he also brought in some food for Casey which he couldn’t see and didn’t notice #rise of the tmnt #cass apocalyptic series #Leo saved Donnie from the physical affection when he woke up just after this #I could prolly draw this #but sometimes it’s easier to write

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myosotisa · 9 months ago

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Sleep Well - m.m.

Matt Murdock x Reader

‖ summary: You're still awake when Matt gets home, allowing him the opportunity to coax you into bed with him.

‖ tags: fluff, like rot your teeth sweet fluff. established relatonship, sharing a bed, you know he's daredevil. gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nicknames for reader are sweetheart, baby, and buttercup.

‖ word count: 1.4k ‖ Read on AO3

It is with a small amount of concern that Matt notices you’re still awake by the time he gets back from his ‘night job’. He can tell pretty quickly what you’ve been doing all this time – the buzzing hum and the heat coming off of your overworked desktop suggest many, many consecutive hours of playtime.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s found you still awake and gaming when he came home, but it is the 4th night this week. And while it might be a bit hypocritical of him, he’s a bit worried about your lack of sleep after so many late nights.

You must have your headphones on because you don’t react when he drops into the apartment, remaining blissfully focused and unaware as he strips out of his gear and slips into the bathroom to clean up.

He is genuinely surprised when he successfully gets through bandaging a couple scrapes and changing into a pair of pajama pants without drawing your attention. You’re normally pretty aware of your surroundings, even at home during the night, so you must be extremely focused on whatever you’re playing. It’s got him curious, for sure. He normally asks about the games you’re playing; he could listen to you ramble on and on about the gameplay mechanics and storylines and what you enjoy and what you don’t enjoy for hours. He can’t really participate himself, and some of the things you say goes right over his head, but he follows along as best he can and asks follow up questions just because he loves hearing you talk about something you’re passionate about. It helps that you seem to enjoy getting to talk about it too.

Resolving to ask you what you’ve been playing recently that has you so fixated, he finally walks up behind you and lays a careful hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

You still jump in surprise, an inevitability no matter how gentle he was, and immediately slip your headphones off of your ears. “Hey, how long have you been back?”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in amusement as he presses the tips of his fingers into the tense muscles at the base of your neck. “About 15 minutes or so. You were really tuned in.”

Your heartbeat quickens slightly, heat pooling in your face in a show of embarrassment. “Yeah, I guess so. Sorry about that. Everything go okay tonight? Need anything patched up?” You’re quick to turn your rolling chair toward him, legs unfolding from under you as you move to stand, but he uses both hands on your shoulders to keep you firmly seated.

“Everything’s fine, just a couple scrapes and bruises. I’m all cleaned up already,” he reassures you, noticing how you immediately relax back into your chair as his thumbs press into the knots along your shoulders. “Have you been having fun? You’ve been playing a ton recently.”

“Yeah, I’ve kinda put a disgusting amount of hours into this game since it came out,” you admit bashfully, rubbing your palm along your jawline. “I wasn’t planning on staying up again tonight but I guess I lost track of time. Sorry, Matt.”

He chuckles, his voice rougher from time spent playing the Devil, and squeezes your shoulders a few times in what he hopes is a comforting matter. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’re the one who is going to be grumpy in the morning.”

His teasing makes your face heat further, which only delights him more. “Yeah, but you’re going to have to deal with me being grumpy in the morning,” you murmur, looking back over to the screen to click through the process of saving and quitting.

Warm, strong hands still firmly on your loosening shoulders, he leans down to graze the tip of his nose along the shell of your ear. “Well then it’s a good thing I know just how to fix your grumpy moods, isn’t it, sweetheart?” His warm breath skates across your neck to match his low-toned voice, both things together succeeding in sending a shiver down your spine.

Setting your desktop to shut down, along with the lighting around your space, sends the room into a comfortable darkness. “Careful, Murdock,” you warn playfully as you learn back further into his secure touch, “keep saying things like that and we might not be sleeping at all.”

He hums thoughtfully, the sound vibrating deep in his chest, before he presses a firm kiss to your temple and stands upright again. “Well, we can’t have that. I need all the beauty rest I can manage.”

You mumble something along the lines of ‘yeah right’ but don’t resist as he coaxes you out of your desk chair and toward the bedroom. He keeps his hands on you all the way, leading by your shoulders or your hips or your waist. When he deposits you on the edge of your side of the bed, he gives you another sweet kiss on the forehead while a promise to be right back.

He returns with 2 glasses of water, handing one to you and requesting you drink a good portion of it before he brings his own up to his mouth. You’re momentarily distracted by the strong lines of his body as he raises the glass – the subtle bulge of his bicep and the flex of his throat as he greedily swallows the water down. You’re still staring when he lowers his glass again, pink lips glossy with water and his unfocused eyes narrowed slightly in mischief.

“Watching me drink water doesn’t count as drinking water yourself,” he remarks with a cheeky grin, slightly tipping his glass toward you. “Drink up, buttercup.”

Firmly rolling your eyes at his cocky attitude, you still tip back the glass and drink at least half all at once. You hadn’t realized how thirsty you had gotten while gaming, and feel your heart warm with love at Matt having realized that and forcing some water in you to keep you from going to bed dehydrated.

Wonderful, horrible, thoughtful man.

After determining you’ve had enough to satisfy him, he easily takes the glass from you and sets it on the table beside the bed, even though you were more than capable of doing so yourself. By the time he rounds the bed to his side, you’ve tucked yourself beneath the duvet and laid your head down on your pillow. When you’re both fully settled, you let out matching sighs of contentment, which makes you both laugh softly.

“Y’know, as much as I worry about you not getting enough sleep, this is nice.” He rolls onto his side toward you, propping himself up on his elbow as his other hand reaches out to brush against your arm. “Coming home to you still being awake, getting ready for bed with you, having your voice be the last thing I hear before I go to sleep…” He trails off with a happy sigh, looking entirely too warm and cozy and happy for your heart to take.

Scooting across the silk sheets toward him, he easily welcomes you into his arms, folding one around your shoulders as you rest your head on his bare chest. “Matthew, if you don’t stop being so adorable right now, I’m going to eat you.”

He chuckles again, this time more movement than sound, and squeezes you in tighter against his side. He’s radiating warmth – and the lull of his steady breathing and safe hold on you has your eyelids getting heavy fast. Dropping his voice down to a near whisper in the dark, he rasps, “I could say the same thing, baby. But right now we need to get some sleep.”

You hum a noncommittal sound, letting your eyes fall closed as you snuggle into him and settle. After several moments of breathing deeply and enjoying the comfort of the moment, you whisper a, “Hey Matt?”

He mumbles a deep, “Hmm?,” while sounding on the edge of falling asleep already.

Tipping your head back to look up at him, you take a deep breath and feel compelled to remind him, “I love you.”

His lips twist in a smile though his eyes stay blissfully closed. “I love you too, sweetheart. Sleep well.”

thanks for reading, please leave a like and reblog with a comment if you enjoyed!!

#i haven't posted for this fandom before please be gentle #but that catholic man has bewitched me body and soul #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil fanfic #myo4murdock

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604to647 · 1 year ago

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Safest with You (Ch. 7 - The Third Date)

5.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Din takes you to see a prize fight, and the evening does not end the way either of you expect.

Warnings: Fluff but also Angst, pet names as usual (pretty bird, baby, pretty girl, etc.), descriptions of blood splatter, mention of alcohol consumption, men (not Din) harassing reader at a bar, very poor description of boxing by a person who knows nothing about boxing (me.)

A/N: I'm...sorry about this 🫣 Our (first!) chapter with angst; oh my feelings - we will get through it together? For some levity, while I'm trying not to be too heavy handed with the Star Wars references, I did have a lot of fun plopping in some character names from The Mandalorian to make up Din's rag-tag group of mob enforcer friends. Picking a Hutt to insert was another story - I tried to pick a name that (exists and) fit into the scene, but I'm not married to it; if upon reading you think another Hutt family character's canon characteristics are more fitting, please let me know and I'll change it! Thanks and thanks as always for reading!

Series Masterlist

“Ok, hang on, I gotta let Rory into the meeting.”

The mosaic on the screen shifts, and Rory appears in a new tile, “I can’t believe it’s a Saturday and I’m taking a Zoom meeting.”

“Stoppppp. It’s for the greater good – please help me pick an outfit,” you plead with an exaggerated pout.

“You never ask for fashion advice? We’re always asking you.”

“Ok, thank you for hyping me but for real I need help. I’m going to a boxing match!? Movies and pop culture tell me that every woman there is either wearing a bandage dress or a bikini and I’m not wearing either,” you step back to show off your bed that’s cover in heaps of clothing options.

You’re nervous. Not because of anything Din’s said or done, and not even because it’s the “third date” (not as if you and Din are following any type of out-dated dating script), but because you’re stepping into Din’s world tonight. So far, you and Din have been dating in a blissful little bubble, just the two of you (and Al!), but tonight, you were going to meet the people closest to him, his people. When you had confessed your nerves to Din earlier, he had affectionately told you he was proud to be bringing you as his date tonight; you didn’t want to let him down.

In the end, you and your friends opt for a white, off the shoulder silk shirt, loosely tucked into a silver skirt. The shoulder cut-out of the shirt drapes purposefully low down your arm, revealing the entire strap and more than a little of the top of your lacy black bra chosen especially for Din. There, you think, it’s not a bikini, but it’s sexy.

Din couldn’t agree more. Your little lingerie peek-a-boo is nearly all he can think about at the restaurant and the entire cab ride over to the fight venue. A few times during dinner he might have lost his train of thought mid-sentence, teased mercilessly by that small triangle of lace and the ample curve of your breast that isn’t contained within. You blush and smirk at his barely concealed drooling. Now in the cab, Din has his arm draped around you, and you let him absentmindedly toy with the exposed strap; periodically he slips a finger or two under the strap and slides it down as far as your innocent looking white shirt will allow, then back up again. You can feel your nipples harden against the soft lace, and by the time you step out of the cab, you’re flushed and your core is already fluttering.

You take Din’s arm and walk with him towards the entrance, still somewhat nervous; Din senses your hesitancy and not used to seeing you withdrawn in any way, he pulls you aside before you get to the main doorway.

Holding you close, one hand lingering on your lower back and the other cupping your face, he gives you a long, deep kiss, meant to be soothing. Opening your eyes and you murmur, “Just one more, please”.

“One more?”

“One more minute. One more kiss. While it’s still just the two of us,” you explain, wistfully.

“Pretty bird, we don’t have to go in. Just say the word and we’ll go somewhere just you and me. It can be just the two of us for as long as you’d like,” Din gently strokes your cheek with his thumb and gazes at you with sincerity brimming in his eyes.

Reaching up, you bring Din’s face down to yours and kiss him tenderly. You want to let him know you’re okay. You’re nervous, but also somewhat excited to see this world that’s such a big part of Din’s life, and the idea that he wants to include you and introduce you to his friends is actually so touching. You nuzzle into your favourite little nook right under his jaw, and whisper, “Let’s go in.”

Din takes your hand, and holding on tightly, leads you in to the building. It’s already insanely busy inside, filled with people here for the fight; as you thread through the crowd, even in the dim lighting, you hear lots of people shouting Din’s name – waving hello, clapping him on the shoulder as they go by. Din leads you through a side door away from the bustle and takes you down a quiet side corridor; you’re about to ask where you’re going when you see some people up ahead wearing “Mando’s Gym” gear. In the center of everything, there is an older gentleman in a colourful striped sweatsuit, and a young man, who is wearing baggy grey shorts and a loosely tied warm up robe; you recognize the younger man as Din’s sparring partner from the day you visit the gym after dropping your dry cleaning off at Peli’s. Din is greeted enthusiastically by both men with big hugs; he claps the younger man on the back and introduces you, then, his voice filling with pride, brags, “Pretty bird, this is Jimmy. Best middleweight division fighter this side of the bridge. One of Mando’s best. And our tireless chief, head coach, Greef Karga, the best of the best.”

You shake their hands happily, and they in turn seem happy to meet you as well; you think you spot them giving each other a knowing look, but it was so fleeting you’re not sure. Regardless, you enthusiastically wish them luck and let them know how excited you are to be here. When he hears it’s your first fight, Greef tells you you’re in for a treat and gives you some novice spectator pointers – in particular, he tells you to watch out for a move call the “Mando Roll”, a move made famous by Din during his career. Din hypes Jimmy up with some pep talk and some light combination drills before he takes your hand to go; you wave goodbye to the two men and wish them luck one last time before asking Din, “The Mando Roll, eh? Didn’t realize I was here with a celebrity.” You grin at him proudly, and Din’s chest puffs up a little but he responds humbly, “Nah. Don’t believe everything you hear about me here. Especially from Paz. Don’t believe a thing Paz says.”

As if on cue, you come upon the man himself, who seems to be waiting for you and Din so you can all walk to your third row seats together.

Paz is hilarious. He has a deep booming voice, and a boisterous spirit about him; he’s huge, bigger than Din, but in the same way you don’t find Din’s size to be imposing, neither do you find Paz’s. He regales you with childhood stories about Din and tells joke after joke, all the while pretending to ignore Din’s protests and looks of mortification that honestly make everything Paz says even funnier. He doesn’t forget to ask you questions about yourself, and your heart melts when Din chimes in to brag about you when he thinks you’re not doing so enough yourself; Paz looks impressed before he gives you a mock look of condescension, “You sure you’re with the right guy?” jabbing his thumb at Din. You look up at Din fondly and nod softly, “Yes, definitely.” Din can’t stop looking at you either, eyes filled with adoration and, if he’s being honest with himself, maybe love. When he pulls you in tightly, Paz gives him a look and nod of approval, which Din didn’t need, but finds himself appreciating nonetheless.

The lights dim and the fighters’ ring entrances begin; you cheer loudly with Din and Paz when Jimmy goes by, looking pumped and intimidating. The first few rounds of fighting go by in a blur; the fighters move with blinding fast speed, unleashing powerful punch after punch – it’s violent and graceful all at once. Both Din and Paz are pointing things out to you, teaching you boxing terminology and noting finer points on the bout that you definitely wouldn’t notice otherwise; when the bell dings signaling the end of a particularly intense round, Paz turns to you, “Did you see that last move, with the bob and weave? That’s the “Mando Roll”. Your boy invented that! It’s what’s going to win Jimmy this fight, you just watch.” You look at Din, who’s got a cocky smile on his face, even though he’s running his hand through his curls, bashfully. Your eyes shine with pride; you knew from the articles and awards at the gym and his apartment that Din had been a talented and successful fighter… but tonight you’re seeing for the first time that it was more than that. He’s an important figure in this community, a leader with a legacy… just like his dad. You make a mental note to share this thought with Din later; for now, you hope he can tell by the expression on your face how proud of him you are. And how proud you are to be here with him.

If you thought the excitement and intensity of the fight would die down a little in the later rounds, you were mistaken; if anything, the crowd gets rowdier and louder, amping the fighters up more, even though they have to be exhausted. Nearing the end of round 10, Jimmy gets the upper hand against his opponent, drilling him against the ropes before stepping back and delivering a knock out uppercut. This last punch happens as if in slow motion; Jimmy’s opponent’s feet leave the ground as the force from Jimmy’s glove propels him backwards, body twisting slightly before he falls to the ground unconscious. Before you’ve finished processing what you’re watching, you’re hit with the losing fighter's blood splatter. Most of it lands on the people sitting in the rows in front of you, but a fair amount lands on your shirt and you can feel a bit of it on your cheek. Instinctively, you touch it with your hand, accidently smearing it. Din looks at you in horror but gathers himself quickly to ask you with deep concern if you’re alright. You have to admit, you’re not sure how to feel, but you let him know you’re okay with a reassuring smile before asking him to point you in the direction of the restroom so you can clean up. In the restroom, the droplets that landed on your skin are easily and thoroughly cleaned off, but your shirt is a bit of a mess. The delicate silk is splattered in a big, almost Pollock-esque pattern; you decide to leave it as is, figuring you’ll probably just turn it into a bigger mess if you try to clean it here.

You get back to your seat as Jimmy is being declared the winner of the fight in the ring, and you’re glad to see that his opponent has regained consciousness and is standing up of his own accord. You cheer as Jimmy’s arm is raised as the victor, but notice that Din doesn’t appear to be joining in the reverie. In fact, he looks downright despondent. Taking his hand, you give him a soft, but quizzical look and mouth, “Everything okay?”

No. Everything was not okay. Din had seen a lot bloodshed in his life, hell, he had caused his fair share, but he's never become desensitized to the underlying violence. He was not prepared for that type of violence, bloody violence, to touch you. In the second before he had realized where the blood splatter had come from, all he saw was you covered in blood, and he had felt nothing but intense panic and fear. And maybe, a little voice in his head adds, guilt. Even now, he is reeling from those feelings. He doesn’t know how to articulate any of this, so instead he drops his eyes to your stained shirt and says sadly, “I’m sorry about the mess, pretty bird.”

Ducking a little so you’re now holding his gaze, you look softly at Din, somehow knowing he’s feeling more than he’s letting on; you kiss him warmly and whisper, “It’s okay. I’m okay,” before wrapping your arms around Din’s neck and pulling him down into you. You feel Din’s back muscles relax under your hands, as he presses you in tightly and just holds you for a minute. Behind your back, Din and Paz lock eyes; a look of understanding passes between the two men before Din closes his eyes and let’s himself melt into your embrace.

Now that the fight is over, most of the crowd moves, almost as one, to a bar across the street for the planned after party. Din’s mood seems to have lightened considerably; with his arm around your waist, he steers you through the crowd, shouting salutations to people he knows and sporadically introducing you to people as they come up to say hi. You don’t remember all the names, but they all seem to be people that have known Din from when he was a child, watched Din box during his glory days, are somehow associated with the gym, knew Din’s dad or some combination of the above. Even more memorable are some of the stories Din whispers in your ear when out of earshot of the person you just met (like the gym member who thought that the Mando’s locker rooms had a nude sauna. They don’t), and you’re glad that the faces are all kind of a blur because otherwise, you might never be able to face some of these people again. The entire bar erupts with cheers when Jimmy, Greef and some of the other team from Mando’s arrives; they head straight for Din and you give them your hearty congratulations once Din’s released them from his bear hugs. You assure Jimmy that you thoroughly enjoyed your first boxing match and you’re glad it was one of his; when Greef learns that you saw the “Mando Roll” he looks like a proud papa bear, of Jimmy or you, you’re not sure. Slowly, the entire friend group descends on your and Din’s location and you get a chance to meet them all. In addition to Paz, there’s Woves, Mayfeld, Bo, Koska, and a few younger boxers from the gym, Brian, Santos, and Iggy tonight. It’s a great group; everyone is welcoming and even appear eager to meet and get to know you. You dance with Din, laugh at Paz’s jokes and sip drinks with the group.

At a certain point, you need a bit of a breather, so you volunteer to go to the bar to get the next round of drinks for everyone. When you give your order to the bartender, you’re told it might take a while given the number of drinks; honestly, you don’t mind and happily take the opportunity to give your social battery a mini-charge, check your messages, and just take in your surroundings. You’ve missed a lot of messages and you’re about to dive into the group chat when you’re aware of someone standing directly in front of you. You look up; it’s a stranger, and not one you remember Din introducing you to earlier in the evening. He’s standing uncomfortably close to you, as if you’re already acquainted, which you most certainly are not. Once the stranger knows he has your attention, he lays on a thick, “Don’t think I’ve seen a pretty thing like you around here before.” You appraise the man in front of you; he’s okay looking but there’s something about his posture, his presence that’s just... slimy. Suddenly, you notice on either side of you his friends inching closer, flanking you, and they too seem to have a greasy, sluggish look about them. You almost sigh; their intent is so obvious, and all the more insidious for not trying to hide it well. Under different circumstances, you would be feeling at best, harassed, and at worst, panic, but with Din and his friends just a few steps away, you know you’re perfectly safe.

“You wouldn’t have. First time,” you give a thin smile, before making a gesture to show you need to check your phone now.

“Well let me and my friends show you a good time! We know everyone here.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got a great group of hosts already,” and you point towards Din and his friends. The men take a look in the direction you’re pointing and seem to hesitate, but then carry on as if what you said is a but a mere inconvenience.

Din had been talking to Paz when he looks over and sees you being surrounded at the bar and hisses, “Fucking Hutts.” Paz looks over as well, “She looks like she can handle it.” And it’s true, you really do look like you’re fine (annoyed, but fine), but Din sighs, “Yeah, but she shouldn’t have to. Those guys are slime. She shouldn’t be anywhere near them.” Paz raises an eyebrow, “You wanna talk about what’s really bugging you? I saw you back there when she got blood on her. You worried she can’t handle being with a Mando?”

Din shakes his head; it’s not that. He is sure you can handle anything… but should you have to?

“You’re worried she’s too sweet for all this?” Paz gestures generally.

Sighing again, Din shoulders droop a little, “Maybe. She’s a good girl, you know?” That little voice in his head from earlier is nagging him with more insistence now, too good. He’s watching you, knowing you’d make eye contact with him if you needed help, but he really can’t stand you being so close to those assholes. You’re not even giving Gorga Hutt and his cronies a forced smile anymore; he sees your mouth make the words: “No, I’m sure. No, thank you” and he’s off, long strides reaching you with just a few steps. He walks right past the man standing stupidly close to you, and maintaining eye contact with him, says, “Hutt.” The man practically sneers back, “Mando,” as Din slides an arm protectively around your waist and turns to stare daggers at the 3 men who have now all lined up together. Luckily, at this moment, the bartender appears and slides over a tray with all your drinks, so you tug on Din’s arm, “Do you mind helping me carry these?” and like that, the two of you leave the three Hutt men before they can get another word in.

Everyone is thrilled to get their refills, and you take the opportunity to ask, “How come those guys back there called you guys “The Mandos”? Is it just because of the gym?”

Maybe you imagine it, but there seems to be moment of stalled silence where no one in the group speaks, before Bo pipes up and answers, “It was the name of our club when we were kids; the gym was like our clubhouse, so… look, we weren’t very creative kids, okay?” Everyone laughs, and Bo waves you over and starts telling you some of the shenanigans the group got into when they were young.

“You really didn’t let her know what she’s stepping into, brother,” Paz says quietly so only Din hears.

Din looks at Paz with something like regret. He’s doing a visual sweep of the room; it’s second nature to him in crowds like tonight’s, but it also serves to distract himself from the agitation of running into the Hutts. He looks around the room and sees a few men leering at you; not just the Hutts, although Gorga is still at the bar where you left him and looking over with a sour expression, but other unsavoury types that Din is no stranger to. Din can read the look he sees in their eyes: to folks like that, you were a mark. Prey. The voice in his head gets louder: You were a pretty bird and he had brought you into a den of hunters, and you didn’t even know.

Din’s so deep in his own thoughts, he doesn’t notice when a petite brunette breaks away from a group of girls hovering on the periphery of his friends and makes a beeline for you.

You’re in mid conversation with Bo, who you’re finding to be incredibly refreshing and interesting being a female body builder when you turn to put your empty glass down; however, turning back, you find a girl you haven’t met has wedged herself between you and Bo while you were faced away. The look on Bo’s face indicates she’s just as surprised you are.

“So you’re Din’s date.” This is stated more like a fact than a question.

“I guess I am,” you introduce yourself; the girl says her name is Vanessa and she’s giving you a smile but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, so you honestly can’t tell where this conversation is going.

“You know, so many of us girls have tried to lock Din down, maybe you’ll finally be the one to do it.”

Oh. Does Din have… groupies? “Oh!” you give a polite laugh, “I can honestly say that locking anyone down or having anyone lock me down, has not crossed my mind.”

“A couple of us girls have had a lot of fun trying,” she tilts her head in the direction of a group of girls that are hovering close by, “Din’s a total catch. One of the best I’ve ever had.”

Ah ha. This is new for you. All your life you’ve been a girl’s girl, and one thing about being a girl’s girl is to never let men be the cause for contention, but man oh man, this girl is definitely fishing hard for a reaction from you; you know what she wants, but it’s honestly not in you to give. Instead, you look at her with a sympathetic expression, “Oh I don’t doubt it. Din’s probably one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.” It’s the truth and the best you can offer her.

She looks at you with disbelief before scampering off; Bo stifles a laugh before the two of you return to your conversation.

Din is starting to feel like he’s been away from you too long; then he knows he’s been away from you too long when Bo comes by and tells him about your little interlude with Vanessa. He immediately finds you; slipping his arms around you from behind, Din nuzzles your neck and murmurs, “Sorry, I’ve been neglectful, baby. Not leaving your side for the rest of the night, I promise.”

You turn in his arms and winding your arms around his waist, you happily press your mouth to his, “Don’t worry. I’ve been thoroughly entertained. I’ve been learning soooooooo much about you, Din.” Your eyes are twinkling.

Din should have known that you wouldn’t let Vanessa bother you; although he still feels like he has to address it. He presses his forehead to yours, “So… I heard you had a visitor.”

“Oh right. Vanessa,” you chuckle.

“Pretty bird, there’s nothing going on, I promise.”

You give Din a quick, reassuring kiss, “Oh, I know. I wasn’t bothered by what she said.”

“…but you were bothered?” Din pulls away to look at you, as if checking you over to make sure you were alright.

You tuck yourself under his chin and sigh, “It’s nothing really. Just... surprising? It’s been a really long time since someone, never mind someone I don’t even know, has gone out of their way to be intentionally mean to me.”

Din feels his chest constrict. Of course you would be perceptive enough to recognize casual cruelty when you saw it, and of course it would wound your tender heart, “I’m sorry, pretty bird. You don’t deserve that.”

You burrow deeper into his arms, “Thank you.”

“I still want to make sure you know, there isn’t anyone else. Only you, baby.”

“Okay,” you lift your face to his and invite him to kiss you. He melts into your lips, but can’t ignore the persistent voice in his head that’s only gotten louder over the course of the evening anymore.

---

In the cab on the way home, Din is quiet. You snuggle extra close to him and when he tightens his arm around you, you nuzzle your way into your nook and press light kisses to his neck.

Din looks down at you and his heart breaks a little at the sweet look you give him; he can’t help himself, and he kisses you, soft and long – he knows he shouldn’t with what he’s about to do, but he also knows this could very well be his last chance to kiss you and he can’t convince himself to pass it up.

He wonders how it could end like this – when he first saw you this evening, gorgeous and sexy as hell, teasing him with a peek at your black lace lingerie, he was sure tonight was the night he was finally going to take you upstairs and ruin you, not the night he was going to walk away.

But he had made up his mind before leaving the bar. Paz was right, you were too sweet for his world. Din had been busy trying to make sure that he deserved you, he hadn’t thought about if you deserved what he would bring into your life. You didn’t; you didn’t deserve to be on the periphery of violence, never knowing if it would touch you directly, you didn’t deserve to be in the company of lowlifes and scumbags that would take advantage of your kindness, and you certainly did not deserve to be the recipient of any nastiness simply for caring about him. How could he bring this kind of darkness into your life?

You’ve been the best thing to happen to him in a long time, and Din’s heart aches knowing these are some of the last moments he will get to spend with you. But when, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of the same shirt that was so inviting to him earlier with blood splatter that looks almost black in the night, it hardens his resolve.

You sigh deeply into the kisses, only breaking away and opening your eyes when the cab starts to slow down. Din pays for the cab and helps you out; as soon as he closes the door of the car and it drives away, you make to walk into the building. Tugging on his hand, you playfully ask, “Did you want to come up and get Al with me, or are you still pretending you don’t want to come up?” To your surprise, Din doesn’t budge from his spot on the sidewalk and drops your hand. He stuffs both hands in his pockets and can’t quite look at you when he says, “I don’t think I can come up.” You’re about to make a silly joke about it being the third date, when he continues, “…and I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

At first, you’re not sure you heard him correctly but then you see Din's face; while not quite facing you directly, you can see it looks downtrodden and tired, and you realize he's being serious. You forget how to breathe for a moment and you don’t know what to say. Didn’t you just have a fun night, full of promise? Hadn’t he kissed you the entire cab ride over? Weren’t the last two weeks of getting to know each other romantic and deliciously tension filled? You’re confused and you say the first ridiculous thing that comes to mind, “You don’t… want to... court me anymore?”

Din didn’t think his heart could hurt anymore, but the way you were looking at him, confused and upset, was proving him wrong. He shouldn’t have kissed you in the cab. It had been selfish. He knows he's been so selfish when it came to you, and that stops now. Din struggles to get the words out, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. I mean, tonight… I shouldn’t have taken you to the fight tonight. You don’t belong in a place like that. You showed up in a beautiful outfit and… fuck.” He’s getting flustered now, but he forces himself to press on, “…it’s ruined.” He gestures to the blood splatter on your shirt and hangs his head.

“It’s just a little blood, Din. It will come out. Nothing has been ruined, I promise,” you can see he’s distressed and you want to comfort him. You try making a little joke to lighten the mood, “I mean, I know you know a good dry cleaner.”

“It’s not right. It never should have happened! A girl like you doesn’t belong near any place like that.”

Oh. You only now come to the realization that perhaps you hadn’t been paying attention and Din didn’t have fun tonight. The date had been on his “turf”, so to speak, and around people he’s known a lot longer than he’s known you; maybe Din had had certain expectations on how the evening was supposed to go... expectations that you apparently didn’t meet. “Din, for the record… I had a lot of fun tonight. I didn’t realize I wasn’t fitting in; I’m sorry if the evening didn’t go the way you had wanted.” Now it’s you that can’t meet his eye.

“No, no, it’s not… it’s… fine. It was just clear to me tonight that we come from different worlds and… maybe it’s not a good fit. I’m sorry.”

You’re trying to swallow your feelings but they’re getting caught in your throat; you force yourself to say, “You don’t have to apologize. I thought… well… it doesn’t matter what I thought. But it was only our third date, Din – you’re entitled to feel that I’m not for you.” You’re trying so hard to appear calm and neutral despite your heart breaking, that you miss Din wincing at those words. “I guess I want to say that I’m still glad we met, Din. And, thank you. Thank you so much for everything you’ve done for me these past few weeks – all the food when I worked late, helping me walk the dog… the books. Really, thank you.” You pause, shrug a little, then hold onto your arms, trying to make yourself as small as you feel while delaying the next words for as long as you can, “Goodbye.”

Din nods, “Goodbye.”

You walk away, finally free to cry when you realize that you still have to walk the dog. Even though your tears are already spilling over, you turn around, “Din?” He’s still standing where he was, having not moved, but looks up when you call his name. Once you have Din’s attention, you look away; you can’t bear to see the expression on his face as he watches you cry. “I’m going to take Al for a walk. I’ll be back down in just a minute.” Your voice starts to break, “Is it okay if you’re not here when I do?”

“Of course.” Din turns and walks away from you. You don’t see his own eyes have welled up before you turn to go in.

Inside, you clip the dog up and give him a lot of kisses in the elevator. True to his word, Din is nowhere to be found when you get outside. Al looks around, excitedly; most likely for Din. Perhaps he can still smell him. You kneel down and say sadly to your dog, “He’s not here, baby. Turns out he didn’t quite like us as much as we liked him.” Al licks a few tears off your cheek as if to comfort you and then trots off to start sniffing a tree.

---

Din watches you with Al from a distance away, out of sight. He knew you were upset and he wanted to make sure you were safe, being out alone with your dog. But if he was being honest, it was a perfectly safe neighbourhood – he just simply wanted to look at you for as long as he could. He stays looking up at your apartment long after you’ve gone in, leaving only when your lights go out.

#din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #modern au #no y/n #modern!din djarin

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night-dazai · 10 months ago

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The Demon Never Died - 2

Dazai X Reader

Synopsis: you are stuck in a room tied up with rapists outside and Dazai has agreed to surrender to save you . Will your kidnappers let you go or not ?

Your head hurt , your hands burned and your whole body felt light but heavy and jelly like “ where am i ?” you thought trying to open your eyes to be blinded by colourful yellow and white lights . Your realised your hands were cuffed with metal handcuffs your legs tied with a soft rope kind of material and you sat in the middle of a bed in a motel kind of room . “M..motel ?” you mumbled to hear a voice , you turned your head in fear to see a tiny computer screen near the door “ she woke up boss “Someone spoke but not to you . You just sat trying to listen but soon the voices became to muffled you could not make out much . Wriggling your hands in those cuffs only hurt you , your brain still fuzzy kept playing all the bad memories Dazai calling you , men breaking into your house. Teras were threatening to spill but not wanting to cry infront of your kidnappers you turned your back to them facing the bed you sobbed crying your lover's name again and again . Its not like you did not have a family, you were brought up by your mom and dad for the past 20 years of your life and when you turned 19 they had to go to the US . You wanted to stay in Japan and thus you did . Meeting Dazai as one of the works of Fukuzawa was accidental but the moment you saw him you knew he could make you fall and you did fall . But what surprised the whole detective agency was that he fell for you too. The director who was your uncle's closest friend had a one-on-one meeting with you asking if you were okay with this , cause everyone knew the dangers around him and anybody in the agency . Why even Dazai tell you ; yet you chose him” why?” “Don't know “ you said making the bandaged man look at you confused “ Bella, I have a lot of past also and that might not be nice for a girl like you “ he said again his playful tone gone it was more like someone trying to order you . Which you hated the most “Dazai , i am not a very normal person also so dont worry i dont care “ . Not convinced he spoke again “ Darling i might to fight , and even it wont happen but ther-” he got cut with you flicking his forehead “ kill, dont care .” you took a sip of your coffee and spoke “ Do you know one thing “ your voice clam and soft and for the first you were opening up to him no opening up to a human , you also had you share of past trauma. “ A female hurt would just want to get out of that place thats what society has taught us , run away , dont make any more mistakes “ his brown orbs stared at you as you proceeded “ but after calming dow. You have no idea how we fell , we would rather have that person who hurt us even killed “ you paused realising how dark you went but little did you know it was nothing compared to how drak he was “ i mean that does mean i want to kill and stuff but if you are with me i can be sure i won't be hurt or harmed so dont worry and even if I am hurt you are here again so comfort me, “ you said opening your arms for a hug . Dazai got into your arms “Bella you are stuck “ he said nuzzling into your neck “he..ehst..stop” you said feeling all weird “ why dear we are couple “ he said looking up at you . “Dazai… “ you cried but now dry on tears decided to stall and make time for him to come and find you “ i am not your gf for no reason “ you mumbled and turned back to face the camera “what to do ?”

Dazai went into the bathroom after watching the video “its been 10 mins go get him “ Ranpo said making the blonde trun at look at him “ let him clam down first “ he said raising his glass. Everyone quietly started at the laptop screen where it played of video of you trying to remove the rope on your leg , they all heard you and saw you and soon the screen changed “ get us Dazai we will let this girl go unharmed like nothing happened but he should come to us alone and with no weapons and he should be tied up “ . The voice that spoke through the black screen was annoying and horse Athushi was fuming and Koyo who has never showed much emotion was fighting back the urge to break the laptop in front of her” is there any ability users with you ?” Tanizaki asked frowning with anger. “We dont , trust we are just normal people who hate him send him to us “ they said once again and before Ranpo could talk “ i will come , one condition i will bring another girl with me , she is not an ability user but she will take y/n from there and i will surrender, “ Dazai said coming into the room . His face had the most unreadable expression. Before everyone could protest Fukuzawa spoke “ he has to go if he wants to save her “ . The other side gave out a horrendous laugh before telling them the location to meet .

This is how he looks when telling them he agrees to come to the location .

I am sorry guys 😭😭😭I seem to be dragging this longer than I thought .

I will end this in the next part and you guys can wait for a part 4 which will be lovely seggs .

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Wasted 6

Warnings: drug dealing/use, violence, noncon, and the usual. Proceed with caution.

Feedback is always welcome. Love you and thanks for the wonderful responses so far.♥♥♥♥

The other girl in this one is from Black Light

Part of The Club AU

The lights flash in tandem with the poppy beats. Bodies writhe, voices bubble, and alcohol flows. You’re bumped by a dancer nearby but ignore them as you let the drink in your hand spill over the rim. It’s the first time you’ve been wholly uninterested in a cocktail. It’s your bait, and if need be, your cover.

Your eyes search, finding little out of the ordinary. It won’t be easy to spot him, you’re sure. There’s couples all around, drinks carelessly left on tables or swishing in hand. There’s no shortage of sexual tension or drunkenness here.

The bartender signals and draws your attention. There’s a small girl flitting around behind the bar with him; not his usual accomplice. You couldn’t help but pity the bandage around his finger that had him slow in mixing. You have your own troubles.

You slip your phone out and text your new partner-in-crime. You’re not entirely sure she’ll do much but she’s oddly loyal and rather endearing. She has the kind of I don’t give a shitness that you admire. Not your own repressed stoicism but a genuine lack of caution.

You stare at the phone for a minute, waiting for the small icon to show if she’s read the message. It doesn’t change and you sigh as you lower the screen. It might take her a moment.

You wave through the crowd, hands wander, grope, and you dodge a few stumbling men here and there. You turn back, not sure what you’re looking for. Your plan is starting to seem less tenable as your anger succumbs to practicality.

You look at your phone again. Still no answer.

Well there is a last ditch idea. A trap you can only hope works. You put your cup on a table nearby. You give a bit of a sway trying to act tipsy before you drag your hand away. You pretend to dance and forget about it, hoping to retreat to some corner where you can watch for predators.

As you shimmy your hips and peek over your shoulder, you bump into a stealthy figure moving in the opposite direction. You bounce off of them and catch your balance, keeping your cool as you face the bullish man. Long dark hair beneath a ballcap, a black bomber jacket, and a gleam in his eye that turns your blood to ice.

‘It's alright, baby, you'll feel it soon.’

An echo slithers in your brain, itching in your ears as you wince. You stare at the man, brows drawing together. You smell vodka and feel a cold splash of deja vu. You know him. You blink as the memory of the bar flickers in your mind.

“Hey,” you point at him, “you owe me a drink.”

Your own words slap you with another strike of familiarity. He tilts his head and chuckles, waiving away your pointing finger. You retract your hand, lightning zipping from his touch. Your heart hammers.

“Fucker!” You bark and lunge for him, “it was you–”

He catches your wrists before you can latch onto his jacket. He squeezes until your bones ache and he pulls you off kilter. You try to stomp his feet as fire scours your insides. A dull pulsing awakens in your core.

“Come back for more,” he taunts as he backs you up, “what’s say we go somewhere classier than the dumpster?”

“Get off of me,” you sneer, twisting your arms helplessly.

You hit another couple and a girl squeals as her partner growls in your direction. The stranger, your accoster, snaps at him to back off. His order is potent.

“Fuck off me!” You try to yank free. “Fuck OFF!”

“You keep fighting and I’ll have to bash you harder,” he warns as he angles you through the crowd, keeping you on your heels as you try not to topple, “I’m gonna take me time tonight.”

He flings you forward and you stagger backwards, arms swinging for a stronghold as you barrel down the hallway. You hit the wall and slip to one knee. Your phone flies against the opposite wall and you look up at the man advancing on you.

“Scream,” he speaks above the music, “do whatever the fuck you want. They’re not gonna hear you.”

He grabs you by the throat before you can fend him off. He lifts you to your feet and you punch his shoulders as he turns you, your back colliding with a door that swings inward. He pushes you inside and spins with you, pinning you against the inside of the door.

The wall quakes with the sheer force of the booming music. Your voice is swallowed up as you holler and curse at the man and his grabbing hand. He won’t stop , swiping, scratching, and groping at you, pulling up the tattered hem of your denim skirt.

“You bastard!” You shriek and you scratch at his neck, kicking around his legs as he keeps his hand around your throat, “let me go–”

“You’re giving me mixed signals there, baby,” he leans in to snarl in your ear, “coming back to find me if you didn’t want some fun…” he pushes his hand against your jaw until it’s forced shut. “If it makes it easier, I got some molly you can pop.”

“Gooorffffffyyssslllllll,” the gibberish can barely rasp through your clench teeth as your ‘go fuck yourself’ is lost to the cacophony.

“Don’t say I didn’t offer you a good time,” he shoves his other hand against your panties, poking his middle finger between your folds, “be a good girl and you won’t wake up with the garbage.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the club #wasted #drabble #series #mcu #marvel #winter soldier

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vivianquill · 1 year ago

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This was certainly something new.

Martyn watched their new arrival from the kitchen table, having pulled up the camera feed on his laptop. Jimmy and Scott were on the other side of the counter, attempting to fix up some semblance of a meal. Really, Scott was teasing Jimmy about how cute their new arrival was, while the mer made increasingly offended protests.

But it was taking Jimmy's mind off of the fight. If you could really call it that.

Martyn had been watching the whole thing through the cameras set up in the corners of the screened-in pool, and while there thankfully hadn't been any obvious scuffles or physical violence-- one of the last mers they'd snatched away from captivity had reacted quite poorly, leaving Jim with yet another scar-- the mer had yelled at Jimmy. It'd left him quite downtrodden, and doubting whether or not they'd been right to take action this time.

They'd decided to give everyone some time to cool off, and Martyn would go down with Jim. Bless him, but Jimmy wasn't the best at explaining things or holding his ground or-- well-- he was softhearted, despite everything he'd been through.

But for now, Martyn just watched as the mer did laps around the pool, probably stretching his fins properly for the first time in weeks.

It'd pissed Martyn off, seeing the little pond the marine rescue had put him in. At least they'd tended to his injures, and fed him. Martyn and Scott had done a cursory examination, to make sure there wasn't anything that needed immediate treatment or microchips or anything of the like. Lizzie would be dropping by to give a more expert opinion, especially about the broken wrist. It'd looked mostly healed, but Martyn wanted a professional to clear it before they thought about letting the mer back out into the open ocean.

He really was gorgeous, not to mention incredibly quick and nimble. Martyn had never seen a mer who looked so much like fire before. It was one thing to know that mer could look so different from each other; it was another thing entirely to see the diversity yourself.

The mer had refused to share his name with Jimmy, so Martyn had taken to calling him 'Firecracker' in his head. Just until they could get the mer's actual name. With the way he'd attacked Scott and lunged at Martyn when they'd been retrieving him-- and then picked an argument with Jimmy the moment he woke up? It fit well enough for the time being.

Martyn looked up when Scott set a plate of food down in front of him, closing the laptop with a soft 'snap.'

"Any changes?" Scott asked, turning to grab the glasses of water from the counter as Jimmy pushed his wheelchair up to the table.

It wasn't a perfect solution to Jimmy's limitations up here on land, but they made things work. At least it let the mer have some semblance of dignity and a great deal of autonomy, rather than having to get lugged around like a sack of potatoes everywhere.

"No. Not unless you count doing laps in the pool a change." Martyn moved the computer out of the way, "After we eat I'll take him some food, maybe try and get his name, or the names and descriptions of his pod members so we can start looking for them. If this mer ended up getting beached from a storm, who knows where his pod ended up."

"I dunno Martyn. He attacked you guys, right?" Jimmy's gaze flicked to the bandages on Scott's shoulder, before it went back to Martyn, "Maybe I should take him the food, he didn't hurt me. I don't know what he might do if you guys go in there."

"He's gonna have to get used to our faces at some point." Scott rolled his eyes, "I'll come with, and we'll bring some sedatives, just in case. At the very least, he might get bored enough to talk to us."

And that was that. Jimmy still insisted on coming too, and really, two people with gills were better than one if Firecracker did get hostile.

Martyn checked the cameras before the went out, wanting to know what the mer was doing before they tried talking to him.

He was still doing laps.

If Martyn didn't know better, Firecracker looked--- anxious? It reminded him of Jimmy, back when they'd first met, when Evo had first put him on Project Glaucus. The endless looping-- it set Martyn on edge. This was more then just stretching fins after being kept in a small recovery pool. It was something desperate.

But they still needed more information. And Firecracker needed food, if he was going to keep swimming in circles like that.

Martyn's suspicions were right.

When they walked out to the pool, the mer was talking to himself. Martyn couldn't understand any of it beyond the desperate tone. He struggled with understanding merspeak when it was anything beyond some of the more basic whistles. This was slurred beyond comprehension to his ears. But the concerned look Scott and Jimmy exchanged clued him in to anything else he needed to know.

Mer were anything but solitary, Matyn had seen firsthand what sort of a toll isolation took on them.

Martyn winced, as the chittering suddenly changed into a sharp screech-- before it went quiet. The mer had overshot, and walloped himself against the wall of the pool like a falcon into glass.

Oh shoot.

Thankfully-- if you could be thankful about someone knocking the sense out of themselves-- Firecracker had hit himself against the shallow end of the pool, where it was only up to Martyn's waist.

Scott crouched on the edge with Marytn, while Jimmy unbuckled from his wheelchair and slipped down to the edge of the pool, then in. The way the mer didn't respond to the disturbance of the water worried Martyn. So-- probably pretty unwisely-- he also slipped into the water when Scott did.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, really.

Looking back, Martyn had seen the mer shake off the hit, and instantaneous flare of fins not even a second later when he realized who was in the water surrounding him. It wasn't the smartest idea to corner a disorientated and aggressive mer. He'd shoved off the wall in an explosion of movement-- straight at Martyn.

Martyn was just glad that he'd had some semblance of breath control training, and the clarity of mind to get a full lungful of air before he'd gotten yanked under.

What happened next was a flurry of mer-speak and bubbles, as he was dragged to the deepest corner of the pool, a pissed off and posturing mer holding him hostage in a headlock with one arm twisted so far up behind his back that it wouldn't take much more than one bad jostle to pop it out of it's socket.

Martyn was simply focused on holding his breath and trying to control his heartrate. The last thing he needed right now was to start drowning.

Oh, and he was slowly moving his free arm down to where there was an injector tucked into his waistband for easy access. He trusted Scott and Jimmy to keep the mer from ripping his throat out or noticing what he was doing.

It seemed like an hour passed, before Martyn felt the mer's grip loosen on his arm enough for him to dare retaliate.

Both the injector and his breath were knocked away from Martyn in the same moment, the later coming out in a rush of bubbles as Jimmy yanked Martyn away from Firecracker and up to the surface. Martyn saw a flash of blue as Scott tackled the other mer, keeping him from pursuing.

Martyn felt like he coughed up half the pool's contents-- and swallowed the rest of it-- by the time he'd caught his breath.

There was blood in the water.

He evidentially hadn't managed to get the full dose of sedatives into the mer, as he was still fighting against both Jimmy and Scott. All he could hear was an unholy shrieking, overlaid with other merspeak as the thrashing started to slow and Martyn could parse more of what was going on.

Jimmy was the one pinning the mer this time, canary yellow scales pressed to bright red as Jimmy held him shoved against the wall. Scott was the one bleeding. Again.

Martyn still couldn't understand what was being said.

It was quite frustrating, actually, being unable to know what was going on. Merspeak didn't travel too well from water to air, and Martyn was only semi-fluent. He'd never had to learn what those particular whistles meant, cause he'd never needed to before now.

But it looked like the situation was being handled at least. Martyn let himself flop back down to the concrete, a good arms-length from the pool so he couldn't be dragged back in easily. Everything else could be handled in a minute.

Right now he just needed a moment to breathe.

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synthetictorii · 1 year ago

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Another Day ✧ Toshinori Yagi

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x reader Genre: angst Summary: Toshinori's condition is detoriating, which worries you. But it doesn't seem like he cares. Word count: 3.8k A/N: ...obligatory old and cringey fic ahead warning...

In the end, it was always like this.

You’d never believe that silence could be so loud.

The air felt heavy and it was hard to breath with the lump in your throat. You felt tears in corners of your eyes threatening to fall.

“I love the sparks in your eyes, they’re the most beautiful constellation I’ve ever seen.”

Your chest felt constricted like it was bandaged too tightly. As if it wasn’t hard to breathe already.

“The rising and falling of your chest always lulls me to sleep no matter what. One day, I’m gonna put the ring on your finger and spend the rest of my days making you happy and even that won’t be enough to thank you for that comfort.”

His words rang in your mind. He knew you felt the same; it was like you two had some sort of competition who’ll think of more sweet nothings going on.

Then why was he doing this to you? Why did he make you pull your knees to your chest in vain attempt to calm down, hugging them with your hands to stop them from shaking? And the hot prickling of tears, the effort needed to suck air into your lungs… was that nothing to him? That must be the case. Why else would he be standing in front of the crowd, his booming laughter loud enough to be heard on the other side of the pacific? That was not the problem of course. You knew how much he loved attention and praise. Always the crowd-pleaser. No, your deal was not that but the trembling of his muscles. The slight tension is his expression that goes unnoticed to all the anonymous faces in the crowd. His time was running out. Again. He was hurt. Again. And oh-so badly. The steam was slowly rising from his body. Just the slightest hint of smoke that could easily be written of as smudge on the TV screen.

You briefly considered just turning the damned thing off. But then again, you would be left alone without a chance to learn anything. You bit the corner of your thumb and pulled at the skin there in another futile attempt to calm yourself. Why didn’t they say anything? The screen in front of you was showing a picture of heavily damaged streets. You didn’t understand why the hell news needed such dramatic shots anyway. Just get back to the man everyone cares about! Finally, the picture changed and it was showing the place where he stood. Only he did so about a minute ago as the reporter informed the watchers. You almost threw the remote against the screen, gripping the damn thing so hard your knuckles turned white. After a bit you simple huffed and settled for harshly tossing it to the other side of the couch.

And now what? Wait? As if you could just calmly sit here while the love of your life might be out there somewhere, beaten and vulnerable. You chewed on the inside of your cheek while contemplating your options, eyes still fixed on the screen. You should have just turned it off, those idiots didn’t even try to pursue him.

Just as you were about to get up and write a very rude and enraged email to the station to blow some steam off, the front door were unlocked and you heard faint sound of someone toeing off their shoes. You let out a breath and close your eyes, your anger dissipating completely. He made it. That was enough for now. You slowly stood up and walked across the room to lean against the bedroom door. You scanned the intruder carefully. It now seemed he was unharmed. It almost made you sneer. He had the audacity to bother the poor lady again. Then again, you were also to blame. If seeing him hurt didn’t upset you so much, he wouldn’t do it. At least he is alright now, you decided.

He was still wearing the loose white button-up (you remembered it fitting tightly just few hours ago when he left, your heart dropped at the thought) and khaki jeans. His blond hair hung limply down, framing his sharp features and glowing blue eyes. Just how much you loved that color, not even the shade of ocean in the summer could compare to it. And they made him look so cute when he was giving you his best puppy eyes – like he was doing right now. “Welcome home, baby,” you said softly, careful not to let your voice break and made your way to your, very tired, boyfriend, immediately circling your arms around his neck. Arguing was the last thing he needed right now. With a gentle, and very much surprised, smile on his lips he leaned down to kiss you. “Hey, how were you?” He smiled and rubbed your noses together. He tried to hide his exhaustion but you noticed. You always noticed. Three years were three years after all; almost nothing could escape your trained eyes. You bit your lower lip painfully, almost drawing blood, so you wouldn’t blurt out what was occupying your mind at the moment. It could wait. Talking with him about this in his current state wouldn’t solve anything. “Fine, I guess,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze. He raised an eyebrow, but you simply shook your head. “Go shower, you’re so sweaty,” you tried to lift the mood by scrunching your nose and tapped his bony chest lightly, almost afraid you’d broke him if you add more pressure. It was alright, he didn’t know this was the reason, thinking you were just too sweet to hit him even playfully. “Mean,” he pouted but passed by you, not spinning you around and planting a sweet kiss to your lips one more time like he usually did. He was too tired to address your tense body and obvious distress. But it was alright. You’ve grown used to it and didn’t mind, knowing that he barely saw straight. Another sigh escaped your lips as you laid down on the bed and picked up your phone to browse the world wide web.

It felt strange really, to stalk All Might’s fan website while he was showering like two meters from you. You couldn’t help it though as you weren’t lucky enough to catch any info about the morning’s incident from the news. Apparently someone with a strength-enhancing quirk tried to burgle an apartment but was spotted and tried to punch his way away from police when your boyfriend stepped in. How did he manage to run into trouble every time he went for groceries you had no idea. So yeah, seems like he caught him and handed him over to police officers with only a few people suffering from minor injuries. Good. At least he wouldn’t stress over the victims. Unless he realized that many of those people lost a place to live thanks to the fight with the villain and the inevitable destruction that followed. You sighed and rolled to lay on your stomach, hugging a pillow under your chest. Your phone stayed abandoned on the edge of bed, you wouldn’t handle any more news or fan comments about how terrifying the fight was.

Of course you were proud of your boyfriend. He was the number one hero after all, incredibly brave and strong, a person to admire. You felt so blessed to be able to know him personally and more, to love him and be loved in return. Yet the whole situation was bittersweet, as much as you wanted to support his hero activities, you couldn’t help but worry about him. Sure, he was exceptionally strong and capable, you got it. But still, how could you ever be fine with him leaving for his job at U.A. every day knowing he only had around three hours in his trademark muscular form? What if something happened? He wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to save people, it was a wonderful quality, you understood that and knew you were being selfish by wanting him to drop his career as pro-hero or at the very least to only participate in the most dire situations but you were his girlfriend and his life mattered to you more than your own, let alone other people’s! It made you feel like a horrible, heartless person but that was how you felt. You just couldn’t stand the sleepless nights when he returned injured, the nerve-wrecking mornings when he fought villains on his way to work and draining afternoons when he needed to stay later at work, risking running into bad guys in darkness. And all that for the rest of your life? You’d have ended up in mental hospital after few weeks if it wasn’t for your mutual friends! Midnight was very supportive and always there for you to bawl on the phone when something happen or to ramble when nothing happened. So far you were lucky enough that she and he both always managed to calm your fears and coax you into believing in him just for a while longer. You felt like terrible girlfriend for doubting his abilities, but how could you not when he always pushed further than he should, overworking himself and then collapsing in the middle of walking to your shared bed? Was it really that bad to worry for him and wishing he would be safe?

A gentle stroke from your lower back all the way to your nape woke you up from your thoughts. The hand then moved to your chin, making you turn your head to face him. “Darling, why are you crying?” He asked, a slight frown on his face as he cupped your cheeks and gentle wiped stray beads of salty tears away. You looked away bashfully. You didn’t even notice you were crying. You turned all the way, laying on your sided. You took a moment to collect yourself. You closed your eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled in the same way. Some days were just hell to get through. “It’s nothing,” you said softly, looking up into his cerulean eyes and giving him a little smile. “Why is it that everytime you say so, it’s not true?” He chuckled sadly and looked into your eyes. Concern was written all over his face but so was exhaustion. You tried hard not to tear up again at the thought about how hard he must’ve been trying to stay awake. “I’m sorry,” you apologized just as sadly, “let’s talk about it when you wake up, alright?” You tried, unsure of what his response would be. In your experience, it was fifty-fifty. Today you guessed – correctly – that he would be too tired to keep going. “’right,” he sighed and pulled himself to you. You stayed put, letting him nuzzle into the crook of your neck and breathe in your scent. His arms were loosely looped around your waist while his legs were already tangled with yours. You pulled him closer still and gently kissed the crown of his head, not minding the tickling sensation of his messy damp hair. “Sleep tight,” you whispered even though he was already in the land of dreams.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

His head felt like somebody banged it against concrete. Everything was too far to focus on as if it was all wrapped in a fog but the warmth that surrounded him. Even in this hazy state he knew he could trust that warm sensation and his lips twitched in a hint of smile. The feeling grounded him and helped him gradually slip into consciousness. He inhaled deeply, your scent filling his lungs and reminding him why he woke up every morning. Your arms were still pulling him closer, even more now that his bony body started to stir. You once told him that it was an instinctive reaction – that you never knew if he wasn’t having a nightmare by chance so you always wanted to make sure he knew he wasn’t alone. Just what have he done to have a chance with you and to make you his. With you by his side, everything in his memories seemed dull and somehow colourless without the shine of your eyes looking at him with so much adoration and admiration. Sometimes he wondered if this wasn’t enough to keep him feeling like a hero.

Ah, yes. His hero career. The reason behind your tears and fears, not to mention so many fights between the two of you. His body tensed ever so slightly, still exhausted after staying in his inflated form too long. His heart felt heavy. It hurt you so much to see him weak like this. He knew that. You didn’t have to say anything, he knew just by the way your shoulders dropped when he stepped into the apartment, your eyes faded and smile cracked. Yet you never were like that on normal days when you relaxed together on the sofa, your head resting on his bony shoulder. You were always so playful and flirty with him, no matter his looks, but this… he knew it broke your heart. And what’s worse, he was the only one who could hope to pick up the pieces and put it back together.

And he absolutely hated being the one behind your pain. He swore to himself so many times he lost count to never exert himself to this extend but always failed. He couldn’t just silently watch injustice happening. It was like a drug. The adrenaline rushing through his veins and the satisfaction of having saved somebody’s life, nothing could compare to it. Sure, some of his best memories with you came quite close but it wasn’t quite the same. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night, knowing that he ignored someone’s call for help. First, he needed to at least make sure that young Midoriya was ready to take care of the city himself. Then he could think about retiring for good. Yes, then he will stop and become your full-time partner. A husband, if you’ll grant him the privilege. He already had a ring chosen and stashed away in a secret hiding place, safe from you. Though now, now he wasn’t sure he’ll ever get the chance to ask for your hand. You were always so patient with him but he knew your heart could only take so many hits. One day, he was sure you’d snap, completely shattered.

His body stirred again on its own in effort to shake off the anxiety he felt. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” you greeted him softly and kissed the crown of his head. Always so gentle with him even if all you wanted to do was to scream some reason into him, beat it into him even. “How long have I been asleep?” He asked, voice still hoarse from sleeping, strained by the uneasiness. He felt your neck bending to look at the clock, he took this as an opportunity to nibble on your sensitive spot lightly, pulling you closer to him. He managed not to wince from the pain. You chuckled, slapping his shoulder lightly. “Stop it you,” you whisper-shouted, “and you slept for around three hours.” He grumbled in response, that explains the dull ache in his head. It would do him good to sleep for a lot longer but now he had a little crisis on his hands, though you acted like nothing happened. Because you were awesome like that. Because you loved him like that. Loved him enough to push your own feelings, even anger, aside to let him rest before another storm.

He sighed deeply and moved his head to look up at you. Your eyes were still reddish from the crying, your nose was a cute shade of pink too. Yet you were smiling at him gently, patiently waiting for his words, smile, whatever he would give you. You were blinding him like sun at noon, even more. He gave a little, sad smile himself. “Wanna talk?” He asked unceremoniously. There was so need to beat around the bush after all. You sighed exasperatedly. Barely containing your emotions, he could tell. “Why?” was all you said, your tone and gaze sharp as a fine dagger, effectively slicing through his flesh and bones straight into his heart. He held your [e/c] gaze as his cerulean eyes softened, little ripples in the ocean. “They needed my help,” he said unapologetically, “like they always do,” he said much gentler. The last thing he wanted to do was to upset you even more. You clicked your tongue and unwrapped your arms from around him, sitting up. He immediately missed your warmth and affection but imitated your movements, now sitting opposite to you. “I know, but… I don’t know, can’t you just slap him, call some help and leave?” You waved your hand uselessly, defeatedly. He knew you knew his answer and that it wouldn’t please you one bit. “I have to finish it once I started it, you know it,” he sighed. Just like you knew that there was no way he’d turn a blind eye to crime happening. You learned not to argue with him about that the hard way too. He still regretted the huge fight and all the dishes that were broken in the process. You pinched the bridge of your nose and exhaled sharply. “Why do I even bother?” You looked at him in disbelieve, he felt his heart drop in his chest. You let out a humourless chuckle. “Yeah, whatever, you don’t care what I have to say anyway,” that hollow laugh again, your eyes filling with unshed tears. “Just…,” you bit your lower lip, “just stay there, do whatever,” you sniffled, “exhaust yourself and let some-some fucking bastard to k-kill you,” you broke down, the scenario playing in your head with crystal clear image. Your mind spent so much time creating it that it now felt more like a memory than just a work of imagination. Your body was shaking violently as loud sobs escaped your throat, hot tears pouring down your cheeks, creating wet puddles on the covers.

He watched the scene mutely; there was nothing left to say. He has lost you. He could feel it. His heart shattered. He tried to say something but words wouldn’t form, he was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. But he needed to do something. You were breaking in front of his very eyes for god’s sake! He broke out from his trance and laid his hand gently on your shoulder. Your hands gripped the covers even tighter and your eyes looked at him with so much fire. An arson of hurt, rage and betrayal. He didn’t waste a second and pulled you into him. His ribcage a wall against which you beat to let you go. “L-l-l-let me g-go! Y-you don’t care any-anyway!” you yelled, giving up, your hands limply hanging beside you now. He rubbed little circles on your back with his hand, the other one was fisted in your hair. You were a blur of colors as his eyes filled with tears. “I do, I do care so much,” he whispered weakly but he knew you were listening by your efforts to stop sniffing and sobbing, even the shaking of your shoulders got weaker. “I’m just trying to make this world safe for you… if anything happened… if anyone hurt you and I could have prevented it…” his breathing was so fast yet his lungs were lacking oxygen. Just the possibility of you getting hurt by an individual he could have caught was enough to make him panic and lose it. You hugged him too. Holding him just as tightly as he held you. “I wouldn’t… I couldn’t go on,” he finished, tears now streaming down his face. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing shakily, and he turned his head to kiss your hair. “I love you so much, you have no idea,” he rested his forehead on your head, “I need to know you’re safe.” He kissed you again and stroked your back, drawing little circles again. “How can I be safe, when my world is literally out there, breaking himself, pushing himself… killing himself…” you whispered quietly, too exhausted by everything to do anything but cry silently, just letting the tears flow. He sighed and shook his head. “Anything could happen you know? You could never, ever, make sure this world is safe for me, anything could happen,” you said again. He pulled you to him even more, almost suffocating you but you paid it no mind. You needed to get this out, needed him to hear this. You couldn’t take this anymore, and neither did he. “A car could hit me,” his breath hitched, “I could get really sick,” a shake of his head, “I could fall and hit my he-” “Stop it,” he yelled, effectively shutting you up. His whole body was shaking, you felt his hot tears drenching your shirt just as yours did to his. You were both mess, you wanted to laugh so badly at how pathetic you both were. “Anything could happen,” you repeated quietly, “but maybe, just maybe, I could enjoy the time I have left? With you?” You offered and carefully peeled yourself off him to look him in the eyes. His blonde bangs were glued to his face by tears. He looked so ridiculous, like a medieval fool. Your fool. Your stupid, selfish fool with savior complex. Your perfect fool. You looked at him like he was your sun and his gaze mirrored yours. And then he nodded. A movement so subtle you almost didn’t notice. Then he did it again. “Yeah,” he said, merely a whisper. “I would,” a little laugh, “I would love that,” he looked at you, his eyes sparkling.

You launched forward, catching him off-guard. You both fell on bed, laughing and crying at the same time. Happy. Finally happy. When suddenly… “Just let me finish young Midoriya’s training. That’s all I’m asking. I won’t engage in every battle – I swear I will try – just let me finish that and I’m all yours, just yours for all eternity,” he whispered apologetically as he played with your hair and looked at you so lovingly you were not able to say no. “You’ve just ruined everything, you know? I will allow that but you have to promise no more fights – or at the very least no fights outside your time limit,” You said, raising a clenched hand with only a pinkie sticking out. “I promise,” he said, chuckling as he caught your little finger with his. Nothing was perfect, but with him there was always a chance it would be so some another day.

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #toshinori x reader #all might x reader #toshinori angst #all might angst

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maple-the-awesome · 2 years ago

Text

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 22

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,679

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: LIL' WIZ

Silence isn't always a bad thing, however there's a substantial difference between peaceful tranquility and suffocating strain. Unfortunately, you're stuck with the latter which is making your nerves feel like a trampoline park.

It had been heartbreaking as you helped Tony to his feet, ignoring his stubborn refusal to accept your aid while he attempted to shove you away and stand on his own. It was useless in the end, forcing him to reach a compromise by allowing you to help him into another, warmer room where there's at least a bench he can rest on compared to his former place on the floor.

You feel ashamed for letting things get this far. Each second, you replay today's events in your head, pointing out every little crossroad where you could have possibly done something different just to change the turnout.

Maybe you should've confirmed Tony actually knew about Hollie and parents' deaths instead of assuming Steve already did so. You shouldn't have let that video play. The second you realized what it was going to be about, you should've destroyed the screen and thus prevented Tony from having to see such a horrible thing. You could've done more to prevent the fight that took place afterwards even if that meant risking your own safety by physically getting in between everyone.

'...There are so many things you could've done differently...'

After radioing for someone to come pick you guys up, you search the facility for medical equipment. Tony's injuries aren't fatal, but it'll be awhile before anyone can get here and he might feel a little better once bandaged up. This is what you tell yourself anyways, truly just hoping for a way to distract yourself because maybe then your hands will stop shaking so violently.

You had pretty much forgotten all about Zemo until reentering that main room you had encountered him in originally. What was his plan again? To turn the Avengers against each other as revenge? Well, he succeeded and he probably used the aftermath as a distraction to make his escape. Who knows where he went or if you'll ever have to look at his sorry ass again? Regardless of how much hate you’ve felt towards him all day, you can’t be bothered to care anymore...He’s the least of your concerns right now.

The suffocating silence continues when you return to Tony with a medical kit. Again, he tries shooing you away, however you remain just as stubborn despite the calm and patient tone you fight to maintain with him.

'Besides, he has every right to hate you. You helped Bucky - the man who murdered nearly the whole Stark family. You, a close friend, betrayed him until the last second.'

"I'm surprised you didn't go with them since you’ve seemed so keen on defending Barnes's ass all the time," Tony observes bitterly, refusing to even look at you as you dab his face with a cotton-ball.

You can only sigh, "...I didn't want things to go the way that they did. I didn't want anyone to get hurt like this -"

"- Well, it's a little too late for that, don't you think? Forty two years too late, in fact."

Frowning, you set the bloodied cotton ball down, redirecting your eyes to the medical kit to check what bandages are inside, but your mind is too jumbled to properly look through them. You scan the box several times, yet you can't seem to remember what you just looked at which results in your eyes going back over each item a second and third time. Eventually a forth, too.

"Bucky regrets what happened -"

"- As you keep saying -"

"- When he first remembered Hollie's death, he was devastated - inconsolable even. He's never denied his guilt or his role in it. He believes himself to be just as responsible for what happened as you think he is. Nothing I’ve tried saying has been able to change that,” you explain foolishly as if Tony will share your pain. He doesn’t.

"He deserves it -"

"- Tony -"

Before you're able to put a small butterfly bandage over the deep cut on his forehead, he suddenly jerks away from you with a deadly glare, "- No, I don't give a shit if he feels guilty. He deserves every ounce of it because my aunt did nothing to deserve death! She never hurt anyone. She never took advantage of others, never cheated the system or made shady deals to fill her own pockets - she was better than that and you know what the worst part is? She loved Barnes. She would talk about him all the time and as a kid, I used to wish I could've met him because I thought 'wow, if Auntie Hollie admires him this much, he must be a real amazing guy, huh?'. Turns out he's the one who killed her. She could've lived a long life. She could still be here now if it wasn't for him.

"Do you know how I felt back then? Do you know how it feels to be told that your aunt isn't going to be around for your birthday not because she just can't make it - had a little car trouble or too much work on her desk - but because she was shot dead outside of her own home? Defenseless and left to bleed out alone?! And do you have any idea how I felt learning she was on her way to my party? Hell, I still don't celebrate my birthday because each time it comes around, I think about that week - that week of mom crying and dad throwing shit against the wall in his office as I sat in my room waiting for someone to tell me it was all some cruel joke.”

Tony’s eyes are watery at this point. The more he admits, the more fidgety he gets, eventually shifting against the bench and talking with his hands, “While everyone else celebrates me getting older, I can only remember being four years old sitting in the front row of my aunt's funeral, believing it was somehow my fault because if I hadn't begged her to come to my party, maybe she wouldn't have gone outside that day? M-Maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't have been killed -?"

"- Tony, it wasn't your fault," you cut him off sternly, your heart breaking after hearing his voice crack towards the end. You attempt to place a hand over his - more on instinct than rational thought - yet he rips it away.

"I know that," he hisses before his voice falls more silent as he stares at the floor, "I...I know that and I've gotten over that part…but what I can't get over is the fact that Barnes was the one to take her away. My aunt was my role model. She was everything I wanted to be when I grew up. She was always there for me and frankly, she cared about me more than even my damn dad did. He cared about her more than me, too.

“...After she died, he didn't spare any expense looking for her killer and planning to bring the fiercest justice down upon them. What would he have thought if he figured out it was Barnes all along? That he was the one to kill Hollie and would be the one to kill him and mom years later, too? What did our family ever do to him, huh?!"

"...Nothing...None of you did anything," you whisper, keeping your hands flat on your lap. A few tears hit them after rolling down your cheeks, yet you do nothing to fix your slumped-forward posture.

"Then why do you defend him?" Tony challenges, already knowing his confession has done nothing to change your mind towards the situation.

"Because...Bucky didn't do anything to deserve what happened either," Tony opens his mouth, however you don't give him the chance, "Bucky loves Hollie as much as you do. If he had a single ounce of control back then, there's no doubt in my mind he wouldn't have hurt her. The problem was never him, it was HYDRA. They wanted to eliminate anyone who would get in their way. That's why your family was killed. Howard and Hollie both stood against them before and they would've done so again. For that reason, they were killed and so was Maria who I'm sure was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Bucky was captured by HYDRA and used as their assassin against his own will. I'm sure those sick fucks found amusement in sending him after people he once knew and cared about…It's terrible for all involved: those who died, Bucky for being forced to have their blood on his hands, and you for having to loose your family..." You trail off for a second then ask while chewing on your bottom lip, "...I've actually been meaning to ask: did you ever get that present?"

"What 'present'?"

"The one Hollie got you for your fourth birthday - that brass telescope. It was the one you wanted, right? At least I'm certain it was..." You don't look up at him, instead playing with the fabric of your suit, "Yeah, I remember you had that whole faze as a kid where you loved all things space related. You would tell everyone including random people on the street about this one particular telescope that you happened to see at a toy store on Mason Avenue. Of course, I knew Howard would never get the hint even if it whacked him upside the head, so I got it for you myself...Did you ever receive it, though?"

Tony stares at you as if you're clinically insane which might be his exact thought process right now. His mouth hangs open ever so slightly as he shakes his head, "...What did you do? Go through my shit and -"

"- If I went through your shit, I would've had to find it and then I wouldn't need to be asking the question, would I?" You shoot back the remark then sigh, mumbling more to yourself, "...Geeze, out of everyone, I thought you'd be the one to figure it out first given how much you like to insert yourself in our lives. I went through so much effort yet was still on the edge of my seat worrying you'd spot the inconsistencies anyways..."

"What are you on about?" Now he sounds plain annoyed, so much so that he pushes himself off the bench to get away from you as he’s truly beginning to worry about your mental health. Maybe you went insane dealing with Bucky for two years straight or hit your head a little too hard during the fight moments ago. Either way, you're not exactly in his good graces, so he has no reason to sit here and bother listening to your nonsense.

"Tony, why do you think I care so much about Bucky?" You stand up as well, grabbing his arm to prevent him from going any further. Despite the question, you don't allow him to answer, making it rhetorical as you continue, "I've risked everything to help him up until this point yet I stayed here to help you. Now I'm sitting here talking about things I shouldn't know - things about your family that you've kept so close to your chest that there’s no way a random outsider born in the nineties should know them...Come on, you're supposed to be a genius, right? What's the common denominator here?"

For a second, it looks like he's actually thinking about your little 'quiz', but he quickly shakes his head and gives his arm a tug in your grasp, "Let go."

"Not until you answer me."

"I'm not in the mood for this -"

"- Neither am I, Anthony," you remain stubborn, not loosening your grip over his arm, in fact you tighten it, "It's Hollie - she's the common denominator. She loved Bucky more than anything even if he was the one to kill her and she was your aunt which means you held just as much of her heart as he did. Now you're gotta ask what that has to do with me? What does any of this have to do with me and that's the key, Tony! …I was Hollie - way back then, I lived and saw the world as her until the day she died and I still remember nearly every second of it.”

Your frown grows when Tony finally gets his arm away from you, facing you with a glare, yet even through the dim light of this room, you can see the tears brimming in his eyes, "I told you I don't have the time for this nor do I have the patience. It's one thing for you to keep defending Barnes, but to sit here and drag this conversation on while making ridiculous claims that you were my aunt? Do you not hear how crazy you fucking sound?!"

Shrinking under his shout, you once again start chewing on your lip as a nervous habit, your mind whirling with hurried thoughts while you run your now free hand through your hair, "...Perhaps I got some of the details wrong? I'm just going off of old memories here. I have to admit, everything in the days leading up to my death are a little...fuzzy at best, however I do remember the important stuff.

"I-I remember being your aunt. From the moment I first held you, I wanted to make it my mission to spoil the crap out of you because I knew you were the closest thing I'd ever get to having my own child. I wanted to give you the world however that might look like, be it by playing pirates outside or teaching you how to wire a circuit board. It seemed like you always had a new hobby to obsess over and even though I knew you'd have a new one by the end of the week, I still obsessed over it with you no matter what it was because it made you happy.

"Yeah, I sound fucking crazy, but even though I'm (Y/n) (L/n) now, I continue to think of you as my nephew. Ever since I started regaining the memories of my past as Hollie, a part of my thoughts have always been occupied by the people I knew and loved as her. Those feelings have never disappeared.

“You know, I went home and cried that day Natasha first introduced us. I cried because I always dreamed of seeing my brilliant nephew grow up only to have that stolen from me. Now you’re older than me and you don't see me as family which is understandable. I...I don't expect you to believe that I'm Hollie. I just...I don't want you to think for a second that I'm trying to mess with you or take advantage of your feelings. I know I've already let you down by hiding Bucky and not telling you about his role in our family's deaths, however I...My intentions aren't to dig up old wounds for you...I'm sorry it’s worked out like that -”

“- If you're really Hollie…" Tony starts in a whisper and you nearly give yourself whiplash looking up at him, although he's not looking back at you, "...Then what was the message engraved on that telescope and where?"

"The message...?" You echo with a raised eyebrow, nothing coming to mind too quickly.

When you don't answer, Tony clicks his tongue as a way to act casual despite the way he sniffs back his tears immediately afterwards. He's prepared to swallow his disappointment and leave the room regardless of whether someone is here to get you guys yet. He can't stay in this stuffy building anymore, especially not when his chest feels so tight all of the sudden. He needs air...

"I think…I think it was on the bottom,” Tony freezes at the sound of your voice.

Your eyes are squeezed shut as you try your best to recall that telescope. It’s been forty two years, after all. You do remember having a message engraved on it. What was it, though? Something cheesy…Yeah, you were real cheesy back then; the cool aunt Tony would've no doubt been embarrassed by if you were around for his teenage years.

You snap your fingers suddenly, "Right! 'Reach for the stars and beyond even those, Lil' Wiz, love Auntie Hollie'; that was the message...Damn, was it bad. I hated that I couldn’t think of anything more clever. Sure, you were only four, so it's not like you would’ve cared or anything, but I didn’t feel that was a proper excuse for such low standards.”

You’re afraid to glance at Tony, however you somehow find the strength to do so anyways. It’s difficult to read his expression which a lot of people would find shocking if you told them because Tony Stark’s known for his arrogant and loud personality. To leave him speechless is either really impressive or really worrisome.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s thinking and desperately searching for evidence as to why he shouldn’t believe you. He’s spent too much of his childhood being forced to go to counseling and too many birthdays slumped over his bar to suddenly accept this outlandish idea that his aunt - the same aunt he’s gravely missed since he was four years old - is standing right in front of him. The universe isn’t that kind, especially not to him, so there must be some trick here.

Where’s the flaws in your lie? You’ve always been smart, that’s why he offered you a job at Stark Industries after the fall of SHIELD, however you left instead. There! If you’re supposedly Hollie, why’d you turn down his offer and go away? …To find Bucky; that’s right. You’ve spent two years caring for him, but there must be some other logical expectation for that. He’s not bad looking if Tony squints. He might be in need of a good scrub down, yet he’d also build like a brick wall with obvious confidence issues. You’re probably into that shit, who knows?

Steve hated your guts when it first came out you were keeping Bucky from him only to suddenly like you again soon afterwards. What reason can there be for that? The power of friendship prevails? Maybe he’s got a little crush of his own? Those are good excuses, and as for the telescope thing, Tony was probably right about you going through his stuff to find it…The only problem there is that he keeps that telescope locked in his room in a box under his bed since he doesn’t like looking at it. Now, you might be smart, but smart enough to hack into JARVIS just to sneak into his room without taking anything?

“Tony…” You whisper his name, reaching a hand out, however you stop yourself short. You feel incredibly guilty - more so than you had been before this conversation.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of why you don’t like telling people about Hollie. Natasha and Steve are the only ones to ever believe you. Two out of how many others who have cast you aside? You’ve gotten too comfortable; that’s your problem. This is why you’re not supposed to tell anyone about your secret. It’s hurt those who knew Hollie and it hurts you, too, because it only reinforces the idea that you can’t live two lives at once.

Opening your mouth, you plan to apologize again while biting back your tears, but Tony beats you to the speaking role, “...So, how’s this work?”

“H-Huh?”

“The whole…Hollie-(Y/n) thing?” He gestures a hand towards you, scrunching his eyebrows, “You’re living as (Y/n), but you have Hollie’s memories?”

You hesitate, “I, um…It’s a reincarnation thing, I guess. I don’t really know how or why I remember my past -”

“- And that’s why I’m guessing you joined SHIELD?”

“It’s nice to start somewhere familiar,” you shrug awkwardly, not sure where he’s taking this, “It was supposed to be a job until Natasha offered to introduce me to you. I wasn’t planning on sticking around, but I also wanted to see how you were doing…How you turned out with Howard’s parenting job.”

“‘Parenting’ is a generous word…” Tony scoffs with a roll of his eyes. When he trails off, you dare to look up at him fully, watching his features shift from a pretty good poker face to a softer, more vulnerable expression, “...Did I turn out like you hoped?”

His words take you by surprise and you must’ve blinked a dozen times while gaping like a fish before they process inside your head. Even when you understand what he had asked, you’re still left shocked because how could that ever be a question in his head?

“Of course!” Your response reflects your breathless astonishment, “I don’t think I could be any prouder than I am of you, Anthony.”

Tony sniffs again, turning his head away from you as if that’ll make his hand invisible from your sight as he almost raises it to his face. He halts this action, however, turning back to you with a poor attempt at a ‘casual’ nod, “Good, um, that’s - Hmph!”

Whatever he was going to say, he’s cut off when you step forward and wrap your arms around him. It’s not the most comfortable hug given his suit and you’re careful not to cut yourself on the broken shards, although it’s still enough to have him dazed for a second, his arms held out to the side in refusal (or perhaps fear) towards the idea of hugging you back.

“...What are you -?”

“- I haven’t gotten to hug my nephew in forty two years…Let me have this,” you whisper, your eyes shut not that it saves you from crying. Those blasted tears find a way anyways!

Slowly, his arms fall around you, holding onto you tightly seconds before the sound of sniffles can be heard echoing through the quiet air and once again. You’re smiling softly, feeling like you’re back in 1974, holding a young Tony in your arms as he cries against your shoulder over how long it’s been since he had seen you a week ago. Many things have changed since then, but your love for your nephew never has.

NEXT CHAPTER ->

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