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tired-o-fighter · 1 year ago

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As someone who doesn't have a formal diagnosis for ADHD or autism. (Not that I haven't tried. But the 3 doctors i was talking to started laughing at me and told me I'm stupid to think i might be autistic) my experience wasn't fun or quarky.

Growing up undiagnosed with an sibling who also's also AuDHD was hell. Me, constantly craving sensory and them always overstimulated. Me being hyper verbal and everyone making fun of me for it.

Ever since i was a kid I'd have to take my socks off the second i was out of my shoes because my feet needed to breath

Getting made fun of for the way i played with toys. Because my favorite toys were my butterfly clips i would sort them in size and color. Make them families and make the odd colors get adopted by the closest ones and then I'd just put them back in their box and let them get messy and then reorganize them the next time. And that was the game.

I always wanted to sit on the swing in the playground because the flow makes me feel a good kind of way. Literally hating to hold crayons because they made my skin sticky.

Getting forced to wear any turtle neck made me cry and scream because my neck was burning. I wasn't allergic so it didn't matter. Being forced to wear the scrunchy outfits my grandma bought me even tho i was begging to change.

Growing up not realizing kids were insulting me to my face because they were being sarcastic.

Constantly getting in trouble as soon as i went to school because I couldn't stop fidgeting I couldn't stop talking I couldn't sit and listen like i was supposed to. Getting yelled at because i was talking while i could absolutely recite the sentence my teacher just said. But distracting the other students.

I remember when my teacher moved my seat so I wouldn't talk to my friend in first grade. Put me on the seat with two other kids (the tables were for 3) and the one next to the wall would just put her legs up to take my space and the other would sit and i was supposed to find a space there. Because i was weird and they didn't want to be close to me. And then pushing me to fall off the seat. Because i was being weird.

I remember one day in third grade we went to English class which was held in a different class than my normal classroom and someone took my usual seat. I started to tear up. The worse i felt the louder things got. I remember when the bell rang everyone started screaming at once. I went still. Not able to move a muscle. Everything was too much. A girl pushed me to get out and i fell on the floor. And all the students literally ran over me because i was still on the ground. Not able to move. It took a couple of minutes after everyone on the floor left for me to be able to get up.

I remember over hindered times during my 12 years of school i got in trouble for drawing in class. Because as much as I cried and told them, they couldn't understand that if I didn't have my hands busy I couldn't focus. If I couldn't find another thing to do as i listened and took notes i would literally start losing the ability to learn.not understanding that i needed to get up and move to get the energy out.

I'm the type that was incredible at math. It made sense. It was great. Science sucked math was great. I remember getting made fun of because i was so good at math but stupid in everything else.

I remember getting made fun of because i was always obsessed with a cartoon. For months. All i talked about was the cartoon. All i cared about was the cartoon. All i wanted to do was to play pretend as the characters in the cartoon. I got made fun of for always loving ninja turtles. For always wanting to play turtles. I remember finding a girl in another class who liked ben 10 and only hanging out with her when i could so we could talk about it.

Tw for physical and emotional abuse in this paragraph.

I remember my 4th grade teacher having a special beef with me. I remember her being an old hag who should never be a teacher. I remember her teaching something wrong in math class. I remember correcting her. I remember her pointing at me and laughing at me until the rest of the class did too. I remember her sending me to the office for any random reason as simple as me drawing a lip on hand with a red pen. I remember when she hit my head to the wall when it was my turn to answer a question and "i was wrong" i wasn't wrong. I remember her finding any excuse to keep me in class and telling me about sad things about my classmate who lost her mother that year. I remember her not declaring me as the winner when my paper airplane design went soooo much longer than the other kids. Telling me mine was the one that went the shortest. And me not realizing she was making fun of me took it seriously, kept telling her she was wrong. I remember begging my parents to change my class and them going and talking to my teacher everytime. It got worse each time.

I remember crying when i got hit by a ball to my face. Not because it hurt. But because my skin felt like hell.

I remember the many times I punched or hit someone because they touched me suddenly even tho i asked a million times to ask before touching me.

I remember i kicked a girl in the stomach because she was constantly tapping on the same spot on my shoulder and it was a living hell from the second tap.

I remember listening to songs on repeat and everyone forcing me to stop. I remember watching the narnia movies 4 times in a week because it was special to me.

I remember constantly getting made fun of because i watched miraculous ladybug. A kids show. Not like I didn't want to stop. I couldn't stop caring about this trashy show for 3 years. The only thing that was in my head and i hated it every moment.

I remember seeing the ADHD tiktoks and thinking that possibly couldn't be me. Because everyone always used hyperactive as an insult to me my whole life. (For some reason the word for adhd and hyper active is the same in Persian. The direct translation of hyper-active)

I remember it taking months for me to accept that i have ADHD yet it making so much sense.

I didn't think about autism for another two years. My sibling was the autistic one. I was the loud kid. And yet when we took an autism quiz as a joke i got one of the highest scores. And then thinking I can't be autistic because I'm an extrovert.

I remember when i told someone irl that i was autistic for the first time and them just smiling like i was an idiot and saying sure. And then cutting me out of their life.

I remember telling my therapist that i have ADHD and him telling me I can't have ADHD because i used to have good grades.

I remember the same therapist telling my sibling they weren't autistic. Because he went : you can't be autistic. You don't take things literally*points with a :| face* there's a roach on your scarf. See you didn't believe me so you're not autistic.

I remember last month when i went to the capital and my aunt got me an appointment to a Psychiatrist and then after two hours of wasted time they talked to me for 15 minutes. I remember him and his two phycologist assistants telling me i only have 5% ADHD. Whatever that means. I remember me telling them I'm autistic and all three of them started laughing. Them telling me that if i were autistic I'd never make it this far in life. I remember one of them asking "have you ever met an autistic person?" I remember the dr guy telling me it's called asprerger for adults. And I can't have it because i can talk to them. Because i could look at them.

I remember every time there was something wrong with me. And I couldn't tell what.

Being autistic wasn't fun or quarky. It was scary, confusing. It was isolating.

Autism is Not “Fun”

(Brutal honesty ahead.)

I think when autistic people such as myself get defensive about certain behaviors or personality traits “not being autistic,” we’re not trying to gatekeep, we’re telling it how it is.

I myself get really aggravated when certain kinds of people who would have been vicious bullies towards me and other autistic peers back in grade school become adults that then turn around and go “omg, autism is cool now! So this innocuous thing I did as a kid MUST be an autistic trait.”

No, it’s not. Autism is not cool. It’s the furthest thing from cool.

Autism is painfully uncomfortable, autism is gross, autism is lonely, autism is isolating, autism is embarrassing.

Autism is slow processing, and looking stupid in front of your class because you don’t understand the material. Even if you’re considered “gifted.” Or not being able to debate friends because your brain isn’t working fast enough.

Autism is having a full crying meltdown in front of your whole class because the fire alarm won’t stop going off or because your science class is using balloons and you’re terrified of them. In high school.

Autism is seeing another autistic kid wearing headphones all day and thinking “god, I don’t want to be equated to that freak.”

Autism is throwing other weirdos under the bus in self defense because “at least I’m not that bad. Maybe if they bully him, they won’t target me.”

Autism is your whole class laughing at you because you’re “freaking out” for seemingly no reason. Then forgetting you even exist the next day.

Autism is picking your nose and eating it or chewing your nails because it’s the one habit you can’t break. And doing it unconsciously in front of your peers.

Autism is having college-level writing skills and first-grade math skills simultaneously.

Autism is constantly being seen as “stupid” or “not applying herself.” And also being on honor roll.

Autism is sudden, violent rage that gets you sent to ISS for verbally threatening one of your bullies.

Autism is the teacher saying your handwriting looks like “chicken scratch.” In front of the whole class.

Autism is fighting with your mom because she wants you to dress “appropriately” but the fabric of the jeans is too overwhelming and all you want are ugly sweatpants.

Autism is being a terrible and possessive friend because you’re so scared of being alone again.

Autism is not having voice modulation, and shouting when you’re nervous.

Autism is not understanding why the class is laughing at you when you mispronounce “Uranus.”

Autism is not ever being able to enjoy fireworks because your brain equates it to being shot at.

Autism is never going to loud concerts and missing out.

Autism is not being able to stand working in retail because your brain fixates on the music until it drives you bonkers. Autism is constant miscommunication with customers.

Autism is not liking the feel of deodorant, so you smell like BO until a teacher calls you out on it.

Autism is farting in class because you don’t know you’re not supposed to do that.

Autism is not knowing you’ve bled on yourself until ANOTHER teacher points it out.

Autism is not being able to look teachers in the eye, even if it’s for something good, because it feels humiliating.

Autism is knowing, deep down, there must be some kind of disconnect, some kind of reason that you only gel with the other autistic kids, but your parents and counselors not having enough knowledge to help you.

Autism is your friends not knowing that THEY are also autistic, or are in denial about it. Even as adults.

Autism is your parents being in even deeper denial about it, because you’re so “high functioning.” But your therapist saying you are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, autistic.

In closing, I don’t completely hate being autistic, I don’t want to be cured, but I’d never say I’m “glad” I have autism. Life has gotten easier not being in public school, but the workforce still sucks with autism. It is what it is.

#long post #tired talks #it's not like i can get a diagnosis here #i was too hopeful #however one day #autism #ADHD #mental health

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ramshackle-dweller · 2 years ago

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Don’t mind me, having a Malleus-thinker moment...

I’ve been in love with the idea that Malleus knows way more about other students than they expect (and far more than anyone knows about him.) Like he’s never invited to things and spaces out on attending stuff but also he’s still at the school, you know? Like he’s still very much watching and listening while in class and around campus, even if he’s rarely approached.

So he knows people’s names even though they’ve never spoken to each other before and despite what everyone might expect of the high-and-mighty Prince of Briar Valley, he’s genuinely invested in what he learns about others and commits it all to memory.

Maybe he even develops the habit of recalling these facts, hoping it will aid him in building a rapport with his fellow students. Like it’s really kinda sweet, but like many of his quirks it often backfires into making him seem that much scarier.

Then once he’s befriended the prefect it gets so much worse. Like he’s obsessed with spending time with his wondrous little child of man, who tells him all about their shenanigans and what the others around them are up to. So suddenly he knows even more about everyone else and his passing mentions of scenarios and conversations he wasn’t present for start to seem like ominous threats or proof he’s keeping tabs on others with malicious intent.

Coming out of an interaction with Malleus feeling confused is a pretty standard occurrence but once there's an uptick in frequency and specificity the phenomenon goes from occasional head-scratcher to full blown campus-wide conspiracies regarding the fae prince.

“Good afternoon, Duce Spade.” The dragon fae’s low tone rumbled. Deuce’s head shot up so fast he nearly clipped it on one of the bookshelves in front of him. He whipped around, desperately trying to recover from his moment of panic.

“Erk! Oh h-hey there Dorm Leader Malleus, sir!” He chirped respectfully, trying his best to maintain his latest attempt at his new honor student demeanor. The taller man was almost comically relaxed looking by comparison- shoulders back, gloved hand leafing through the books on the shelf beside where Deuce had been hunting through the bottom shelf. The fae’s dark eyebrows had shot up at the first-year’s energetic reaction and his face still wore a look of honest curiosity.

Instinctively, the blue haired boy started to readjust his stiff posture to look more casual under the assumed judgment of Malleus’ electric green gaze. The dragon tilted his head, about to speak when he noticed the paper in Deuce’s hand.

“History of Animal Magic?”

“Oh- uh- yeah the next paper for Terin’s-” Duce froze as the dark haired man reached near where his shoulder was resting against the bookshelf. Malleus pulled a book from the shelf, his gaze never leaving the other’s face.

“It’s up a few shelves from where you were looking.” Malleus' somewhat otherworldly features seemed to show the slightest hint of a smile as he held the book out.

Deuce, who was admittedly still adjusting to being up-close with the fae folk, snapped out of whatever fascinated stupor had overtaken him and took hold of the book, bending slightly at the waist, ‘thank you’s and apologies falling from his lips in a jumbled mess. Malleus let out a small, almost unnoticeable noise of frustration. He wasn’t about to give up though, it’s not like the boy had run screaming yet…

“Sebek mentioned that assignment, it was only just issued to you and yet you're already on top of it, I see. I commend you for your dedication to your assignments. I’m sure your mother is quite pleased with your progress here at the college. I know how eager you are to make her proud.” Malleus felt the slightest tingle of nervous energy- he was really doing quite well this time! He was being so friendly and having such a nice chat with this human underclassman!

“Oh! Uh th-thanks! I’m glad it seems that way!” the younger man beamed a bit at the complement. Then his blood ran cold- wait what did the dorm leader know about his mom? How could he mention something so specific? Malleus seemed about to speak again when Deuce shuffled a few steps backwards, “Well! I better get on it now that I have the book! Sorry to rush off Mr. Malleus sir! Thank you again!” he chimed frantically. Malleus simply nodded and waved him off calmly,

“On your way then, Deuce Spade. Take Care.” The prince dismissed the other gracefully as Deuce hotfooted it out of the library.

Later that evening, he recounted the run-in with his friends….

“I dunno man, maybe he’s psychic?” Ace threw his hands up in surrender.

“Is that something fae can do?” Deuce breathed, hugging the book to his chest as he walked. Grim’s ears lifted slightly as he rode on the prefect’s shoulders.

“Woooah if they can I wanna learn!! Human, we must find a fae student who will teach me! The great Grim demands it!” He announced, thumping his padded paw on his ride’s forehead.

“I dunno, maybe he just listens? I mean, you do talk about your mom to us a lot. I know it’s one of the first things I would mention when talking about you.” the perfect assured Deuce with a smile.

“Ooooor He’s got super spooky evil spies all over campus that watch us all and report back to him.” Ace grinned, elbowing Deuce in the ribs.

“Oh come on, Ace…”

“What? It’s not like you’ve ever met the guy, right? Trust me, Prefect, everyone says he's like, super scary!”

“Still seems kinda rude to accuse people of having evil henchmen.” The perfect sighed.

“Bold statement coming from a henchman!” Grim snickered, pawing at their face again.

“Bold actions from someone who can’t open a tuna can without a pull tab.” They replied with a threatening squint as the four arrived at Ramshackle dorm.

“Well, goodnight! Don’t spend all night out walking around with your weirdo Diasomnia friend! He might be one of Malleus’ spies!” Ace called with a wave as he and Deuce turned to leave.

“Hornton isn’t a spy, he’s my friend.” the perfect huffed, shaking their head as they retreated inside the rickety old building, Grim hopping off their shoulders. With a rattle, the old door shut and the prefect stretched a bit, already watching the window for the first sign of little green fairy lights.

#Twisted Wonderland #Twist #twisted wonderland writing #twist writing #Twisted Wonderland Malleus #Twist Malleus #malleus hcs #twist hcs #Twisted Wonderland hcs #malleus draconia

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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago

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Title: blood son [oneshot; filthy rich sequel] Pairing: millionare!sakusa kiyoomi x y/n [filthy capitalist au ft. kageyama tobio as your son] Genre: major angst ahead, thriller, yandere!au-ish

Synopsis: A full circle of madness finally comes to an end.

Warnings: sexual themes, rape, yandere behaviorisms (just some obsessive and disturbing stuff), very dark themes, anxiety, trauma, depression, eating disorder, unwanted pregnancy/children (y/n hates her kid here), suicide, gaslighting, and Y/N’s decent to madness

Notes: happy 800 due to a lot of uh people asking for a short sequel, here it is...for better understanding, please read filthy rich skskksks anyways onto the story…i cant write smut for shit sIKE also fuck men and women like this, if you see them chok’em and chunk’em in the basin. yes tobio is ur bby boy here idk kageyama and sakusa have the same energy i just couldnt resist i swear sksks

Filthy rich // series masterlist

A moan escapes your lips when you feel the hot liquid fill your hole, your expression is tantalizing and completely erotic. Something that he can’t seem to stop looking at, your body that was now a canvas of his marks, was a reminder that no one could have you.

You're oblivious to it all, the things he did. The things he wanted to do to you, the dark thoughts, you were like a small rabbit in the den of a large wolf. Completely trusting, completely dumb and he’s taking advantage of it.

He stuffs and fills you up with his seed so that you’ll never leave him.

He wants to breed you.

Your belly swelling with his children.

It was definitely a dream come true.

Your eyes snap back to reality as the bus stops in front of the new town, you had moved towns earlier since the town started to become a tourist destination. The idea of staying there would be too risky despite having the alias of Kageyama Miwa. You were still in hiding and you feared to even open the news despite it being eight years since you ran away.

“Okaasan, are we going to go down now?” a small voice asks.

You turn to find his son staring right at you, it had been a cruel reminder for him to look a lot like his father. You knew that he didn’t have any part in this, he was a victim just like you but you couldn’t help but be distant and not-so affectionate.

This was his kid.

His blood.

You couldn’t help but shrivel away.

“...Okaasan will just take her duffel bag on the overhead, just wait right behind me.” You say quietly. Tobio was a good boy, he was quiet and obedient. If the circumstances had been different, you’d adore him but every time you looked at him, all you saw was his wretched father and the unnamed things he did in the name of ‘love’.

To be honest, you didn’t know what else Sakusa did aside from trying to get you pregnant and holding you back from leaving.

You didn’t even want to try to find out. If he was willing to go through such lengths to have you stay, it was more than enough reason to run away. You held onto your child’s hands as you made your way to your new home, it was smaller than the last one but this was alright.

It was clean and livable.

Tobio stays at the side, out of your way as you begin to fix up the house. The young boy isn’t social for his age towards his peers and you should be worried yet you can’t bring yourself to be, “Okaasan’s going to go to the grocery store, would you like anything?” you ask.

“Milk.”

“Alright, just stay here okay?”

He meekly nods as you awkwardly pat his head and tie your roughly chopped hair in a tight ponytail, over the course of eight years, time has not been kind to you. You had grown unhealthily thin, probably lost some hair due to stress, and the bags underneath your eyes due to the lack of good sleep was evident.

You tell yourself that he isn’t looking for you now.

That he probably found a new plaything but you couldn’t help but look behind your shoulder every time. You didn’t even expect to get this far away, last you heard whilst you were at the station towards the last town eight years ago, you were being searched up and down by the police all over Tokyo.

You really thought you’d be found out and you feared for the worse but the farther you went, the less news reports you saw.

They probably thought you had died.

Which was good on your part that time because you’d rather be dead in a ditch than be caught up with a man like him again.

“...-Kusa Kiyoomi is expected to marry the daughter of Akiko Corp soon…”

You tense up at the mention of the very familiar name as you pass by the appliance store, shakily you turn to the tv screen to find a video of Sakusa Kiyoomi with a woman who had the same hair color as yours. Everything around you is muted now as his cold gaze fills the tv screen, your heart is thumping quick.

He isn’t here.

“...It’s quite the love story of the century, don’t you think? After the disappearance of Kiyoomi’s beloved eight years ago, he met her a few years back and he seems to be doing well.” The tv anchor smiles on the screen as she talks to her co-host but inside you were shaking, what did happen to your missing person report? Curiosity starts to gnaw your insides as you head to the internet café before going to the grocery store.

You didn’t have the guts to look then but after seeing that report, you pull up on the secluded part of the internet café and search up your case. Your mouth dries up, the search was still on-going much to your surprise. There was even a website dedicated to it, “...Y/N L/N might be suffering from hysteria and psychological problems, please contact us immediately when you see her.”

Your eyes narrowed at the report as you shakily cup your mouth and choke back a laugh, that bastard really had the audacity to diagnose you with that when he was the one sick to the head.

Once again, the bile on your throat starts to pile up.

It still wasn’t safe.

You’d probably live your whole life on the run.

On the run with his son that scarily resembled him, how fucking cruel.

Sakusa Kiyoomi’s eyes glaze over the small town in discontent, apparently his bride-to-be wanted to get married here and who was he to refuse? All he wanted to do was get this over with so her father can shut up.

“Kiyoomi-san.” a small dainty voice calls out, he turns to his side to find (h/c) staring right at him. Akiko Hideyo is the daughter of one of the most powerful businessmen in Tokyo, he met her at a function a few years ago.

The very first time he saw her was from behind, it was a rather scary resemblance that he had to stop himself from approaching her by calling your name yet when he started to talk to her and hear her dainty voice, he realizes that she’s not even like you at all.

She was gentle and dainty like a deer.

Albeit his little bunny was gentle when they got together sometimes, he always recalled how you were filled with spunk. How you weren’t even afraid to put him in his place and how you were all over the place but seem to look beautiful whilst doing so.

He always recalled wanting to control you yet you never seem to succumb to it.

It had been eleven years since you first met, eight years since you had disappeared without a single trace and Sakusa is stuck with some third-rate look alike for relief. Every time they fucked, it was always from behind. Hideyo thinks it’s just his preference but in reality, it was because her back had such strong resemblance to you and he’d imagine every time that it was you.

He misses the roughness, the high, the erotica.

The only things you could provide.

It was never enough, it was only you, you, and you.

“...Have you decided what flavor you wanted? Komori-san mentioned that you liked vanilla.” his fiancé meekly says.

Hideyo was boring.

Sometimes he wonders if he’s just doing this because he has never seen someone closely resembling you, “Anything would be fine.” He replied in a clipped tone. As the car comes to a halt for a moment because of a large truck backing from a driveway, his attention shifted towards a young boy bouncing a volleyball against the pavement outside his window. There are scratches on his knee cap yet the boy had a blank look on his face, he was sort of reminded of himself when he was younger.

As he was about to look away, he sees a woman approach the young boy and bends down to his level to check the scratches.

The woman’s small figure isn’t even the least bit familiar yet his attention can’t seem to go away. He watches her tuck the strand of stray hair and he finally gets a good look and it feels like the world stops turning at how the woman scarily resembles you. Albeit the figure was smaller and the hair was another color and unevenly chopped short.

It was no mistake.

“Y/N.” He mumbles yet as he’s about to open the door, the car starts to move. Kiyoomi’s fist tightens as he uncharacteristically yells at the driver to stop the car, Hideyo jumps on the seat and before she could say anything else, the business mongrel is out of the car, running to where you stood.

Yet just like a ghost, you were gone and so was the little boy who had oddly resembled him.

These days you had even a harder time sleeping. Maybe it was because there was a little leak on the ceiling, or better yet, maybe it was because the heater wasn’t working, or maybe it was because you were at a new place which made it harder to adjust.

You sat at the side with your expense book on hand, your gaze on his son who was peacefully asleep. Tobio was growing older soon and he needed to settle down at one place for high school and college. A part of yourself ventured deep and dark in your mind, the thought of leaving him at an orphanage seemed better now.

He had a fake last name anyways, the bastard wouldn’t be able to find him.

You’d be doing this boy a favor since you never saw him as your kid and he’d be away from his very messy world.

Your thoughts are immediately disrupted when you hear a brief knock on the door. This made you tense up, it was late, Why would there be a need for visitors? Your son is quick to be awoken by the second knock and you immediately press your hand on his mouth and while your other finger is on your lips to signal him to keep quiet.

Another knock.

Tobio looks worried, it wasn’t his first time to see an episode from you but this time, something feels different. You're shaking more and you look like you’re about to pass out any moment. “Stay quiet.” you mouth as you crawl towards the door and press your ear on it to confirm who was on the other side, too afraid to even take a peak on the window.

Silence.

The only sound that could be heard was your thumping heart, Tobio had voluntarily placed a hand on his mouth to keep himself quiet.

Another knock.

You shut your eyes tight, praying to whatever god out there for this person to leave.

“...I don’t think anyone lives here.” You hear someone say on the other side, the voice sounded so familiar but you just couldn’t pinpoint who it was, this wasn’t Sakusa for sure, “Are you sure that the information was right?”

Silence again.

“Hm.” The person hummed, knocking again, “Well, this place seems like a dead end. The landlady said that she’s not familiar with the tenants here so we could be wrong…”

The voice started to decrease and you feel yourself slowly starting to breathe easier. Tobio slowly put down his hand and there you saw it, the fear on his eyes. You breathe in and out, calming yourself, this place isn't safe anymore, “Tobio, take your bags. We’re leaving.” you only say.

You don’t even hesitate to leave despite it being the middle of the night.

Tobio is right in front of you as you go down your small apartment and you think everything is well, you really do yet luck didn’t seem to be on your side that night.

“...Y/N?”

A dreadfully familiar voice calls out, didn’t they leave? Why? why was he here?

“O-Okaasan.” Tobio mumbles, grabbing your hand and hiding behind you.

Your head hurts, you wanted to just be selfish and leave Tobio here with this man, his father, the wretched, vile creature who had betrayed you. You wanted to run.

You didn’t feel safe.

Sakusa Kiyoomi didn’t make you feel safe.

“Y/N…” He repeats, slowly approaching you, “It’s me, bunny.”

Oh, how you hated that pet name. It sounded like you were his plaything, like you could never escape from his set-up. Before you could say anything else, he invades your personal space once again and envelopes you in a very,very tight hug.

“I’ve missed you so, so much.” He whispers on your ear and your shivering, not from pleasure but from fear, “Shh, it’s alright. I found you. It must’ve been hard to be alone out here.”

Get away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” You yell, pushing him off of you as you stagger away from him. Tobio remains behind you, completely shaking.

“Now, Y/N-” he tries to shush you, “We should go home now, you’ve spent so much time away from me but I understand, you were probably just scared to tell me you were pregnant, right?”

He cups the right side of your face and places a chaste kiss on your temple, tears are threatening to spill as you realize that this was all over. You couldn’t escape now, this lunatic wouldn’t let you have at it.

The soft and plush bed is completely foreign to your back, Kiyoomi had you separated from Tobio because apparently you were still too ‘unstable’. It made you mentally scoff, between the both of you, he was the unstable one.

You wondered if they started to feed the small boy lies about you, Kiyoomi definitely milked it out to the press for sure. When he had found you, not only were your friends and family in a frenzy, the media was having a field day too. He had broken off the engagement and he used your ‘mental illness’ card on them and it worked.

Another story was weaved on papers, a love that transcended through time.

You let out a low sardonic laugh.

Mental Illness, you wondered if this could be a ploy for a suicide. After all, you’d rather be face first on the pavement than stay here with a son about to be fed on lies and a crazy bastard who sleeps next to you at night.

You stare out your window, the curtains were drawn as you looked at the free birds.

How envious.

“Y/N?” Kiyoomi comes in, a food tray in hand, “It’s time for dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N it’s been two days, all you ate was an apple-”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N, our son-”

“He was never my son.” You harshly snapback, your voice sharp, “He’s yours through and through, a fucking incarnate of you and a curse. He’s not mine. He never will be.”

You suddenly feel the presence of the small boy behind the door and there stands his boy, staring right at your eyes yet you feel nothing for him. You never felt anything for him. The moment they placed him on your arms to nurse, there was no joy nor light.

All he brought was a painful reminder.

Kiyoomi places the tray to the side and closes the door behind him, Tobio’s blank gaze still on you, “...Those aren’t words a child is supposed to hear, Y/N. Especially ours…” he inches closer and you clench your fist tightly and he places his hand on your neck and lightly holds it.

You aren’t scared of him anymore, the nicest thing this guy could do was kill you, really.

“Maybe we should have a girl this time, hm?” his hand trails upwards to softly caress the side of your face.

You’re immediately frozen by his sudden choice of words, no, no-

“Maybe you’ll learn to love Tobio even more when you’re pregnant with another of mine-” before he could finish what he was about to say, you raise a hand and slap him right at his face, it must’ve been hard since it left a mark, “Ah, Y/N. I didn’t know you still liked it rough-”

“D-Don’t, I-I can’t get pregnant.” You're shaking this time as you try to come up with a lie, “I-I can’t…”

“Oh?” He tilts his head, “Why not?”

“I’ll die.” You lied, “When I had Tobio I almost died, my body couldn’t handle it. T-The doctor had said that if I were to have another, I’d die…”

The lie didn’t save you that moment, really. He has become an expert at detecting your lies so instead of a reply, he harshly places his lips on yours and despite protests, he just pins you down.

He’s harsh on you that night, spilling and stuffing you with his cum, whispering that you’ll have it all and that you’d be his everything but all you could do was let a small hiccup escape your lips as you tried to hold back your cries.

‘Someone, anyone, please.’ you pleaded internally.

You don’t see Tobio until a week later, the boy has grown a tad bit chubbier and is adorned with expensive clothes. Sakusa, on the other hand, has been force-feeding you to the point where you threw up right after meals (secretly, of course)

You sit down at the couch as your son blinks at you, “...I’m sorry.” He breaks the silence and you shut your eyes tight as you recalled the harsh words he heard last week.

“I’m sorry too, Tobio.” you could only reply because genuinely, you did feel like you went too far this time. He didn’t choose to be born, a part of you should’ve saved him the misery and left him at the orphanage that time, “Do you hate me?” you ask.

“No.”

“You should.” You say quietly, “You should hate your otosan too.”

Tobio remains quiet at your words.

“When you grow older, don’t end up like him. don’t end up like us. forget us when you have the chance.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good and If you ever get the chance to leave, promise me that you get out and don’t look back.”

Tobio may have been eight years old that time but he knows fear when he sees it and he knows promises aren’t meant to be broken. He remembers those words well because it was the last long conversation he has with you.

The month of December rolls by and it’s cold, you’ve given up fighting back at this point. Your glassy eyes are directed to the window, not even wanting to look down at your bulging stomach. Kiyoomi doesn’t even need to tell you twice to not leave the house, you decide upon yourself to just stay at your room on bed the whole time.

You wonder, just how high is it from up here? Would it hurt?

“Y/N?” a dreadful voice calls out.

“Hm.”

“You haven’t gone out of our room in two months. You haven’t even seen Tobio.” Sakusa points out, you were like a obedient doll now. So lifeless, so still, you wished he’d discard you already.

“I might say something again, I don’t want to bother.” You replied truthfully, gaze still avoiding his.

The raven-haired man starts to caress your plump face, you had grown chubbier since the beginning of your pregnancy, he couldn’t be anymore happier to finally be there for you.

This was perfect.

You were finally his.

You weren’t letting go.

“...Don’t you ever regret it?” You finally ask, turning to him, your blank eyes staring at his rather deranged ones, the eyes that you once loved was now just a reminder of your resentful life.

“Which one?” He asks, inching in closer to kiss your neck, your collarbone. You let out a meek sigh as you shut your eyes and internally prayed for this to be over quickly as he removes your ribbon that held your flimsy nightgown together.

“You killed people.” You uttered, “Took my life away, don’t you regret it?”

“Why would I?”

Right, how could a monster like him have such empathy? You feel his cold fingers brush against your folds, trying to stimulate it.

Everything except your body screamed no but you were just too powerless now. You wondered, how could you even end this all? Was jumping out the window the only solution now?

“...Right...” You let out a soft painful moan as he dips his finger inside. You’re under the idea that despite this happening countless of times, you’re body would be numb to it all yet each time it happens, it pains you even more, “You even had to kill your ex-fiancé’s father for us to get married.”

You had come to realize just how deep his obsession was, the man was willing to kill to anyone who got in the way of your ‘love’. You remembered finding out about your ex-chief one night, about how he had chopped off his fingers and left him to bleed dry in the alleyway for the rats to feast on.

You remembered when a news came up that his supposedly future-father-in-law had died in a violent explosion during breakfast time and how he was nonchalant about it.

“...It’s all for you, Y/N.” He implores as he kissed your thighs and continue to stimulate your now wet folds, “All for you, Tobio, and my new little girl.”

“You’re sick.”

“Mhm. You smell good, I should continue using the soap from awhile ago when I clean you, right?” he hummed, ignoring what you had just said as he dipped his head in and take a kitten lick on your sex. You let out a small cry as your body betrayed you.

Your prayers for today are unheard yet again.

“...Y/N, you barely come out of your room these days.” Komori exclaimed, it turns out the visitor from last time who knocked on your door was him and as much as you wanted to knock his teeth out, you decide not to because you don’t see the point in doing violence these days.

“I’m tired.”

“Yeah, pregnancy does take a toll on your body.” He nods in agreement, it seemed like this was a casual thing for him, like you just weren’t repeatedly rape or mentally abused by his cousin, “Tobio certainly takes after his father, don’t you think?”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of the little boy, you had small hope for him either ways so you didn’t exactly cared for him anymore.

“I suppose so.”

“You’ve gotten boring these days, Y/N.” Komori plainly pointed out, “It’s a wonder how my cousin gets to stick around ya. No offense.”

“None taken.”

Komori’s eyes narrowed at your hollowed response, you were so ungrateful. Here his cousin was, treating you with such delicateness and with all the attention that the other women wanted but you looked anything but happy about it.

If this was Hideko, she’d be elated.

But no, he had to be stuck with an ungrateful pompous bitch like you.

“How high up are we, Komori-san?” you suddenly ask.

He blinks at the rather weird question, “Fifty floors.”

“Hm.” You hummed, “That certainly is high.”

Komori would regret answering that question very soon though.

When the winter dawned upon a new year and you finally snap, you decide to answer your own prayers and opt to salvage yourself from this madness and cruelty once and for all.

Sakusa Tobio is nine years old when you, his mother, six months pregnant, jumped out the bedroom window from a fifty-foot story building two months into the new year. Your face is flat on the pavement and completely unrecognizable, the last conversation you both had replays on his head like a broken record through the years and only when he’s old enough that he realizes that he was no one’s son.

His okaasan didn’t loved him nor did he want to be associated with his father for all he did was bring pain and disgust.

The boy is eighteen, fresh out of the academy, right in front of his baby sister’s and your mausoleum. He makes it a habit to visit you both a day before your death anniversary, not wanting to be in the same room as his father yet this year he makes an exception.

Recently, he had turned over some evidence and his own testimony about what his father had been doing. Everything, from illegal works to the people he killed to your tragic end. It’s enough to file a case and have him set to jail for life, even his fancy lawyers couldn’t defend him.

His lips sting because his Uncle Komori had punched him in the face and called him an ungrateful bastard like you but it was alright.

It was all over.

He plans to change his name back to Kageyama Tobio (the haux name you had given him when you were on the run) right after all the fiasco, it’s a kind name and the first name you had given him, he likes to think that this was also a gift from you that time, a new beginning straying away from you and his father's cruel ties. He had also felt that it was too unkind for him to use your last name despite his grandparents' persistence (he was after all, conceived through forceful means).

And although he wanted to hate you for those words you said that time when he was eight. He couldn’t really bring himself to after hearing what you had to go through, you were a victim. He couldn’t dare imagine what his father did to you during the last few months leading to your death.

Yet, right now. It was finished.

You could rest now.

“I did it, Y/N-san.” He mumbles as he bows down. As he got older, he has also foregone the idea of calling you by the name you loathed and shriveled away from, “I got out and I didn’t look back. Thank you for everything.”

Kageyama Tobio never visits you right after again, as promised.

#haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!#haikyu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu yandere #sakusa kiyoomi imagines #sakusa x reader #haikyuu x you #sakusa headcanons #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #yandere!sakusa #yandere warning!!!#oh right tobio is ur son here #filthy rich #📝📝.filthy rich series #hostclub.adulting

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wonhoarctic · 4 years ago

Text

flash | lee hoseok (wonho)

word count: 2.2K

resquest: hii! may i request a wonho angst fic, please? 🥺🥺 thank you in advance!! (i've translated to english)

a/n: hi love! ofc you can, here's your request, by the way, i hope you like it!! ah, and you don't need to be like this with me, we're friends!! (i was going to write it in portuguese but idk if there are people who use to read this, and i did something with ain't about you and with you, that are your favorite songs!! <3

pairing: idol!wonho x idol!fem reader

genre: angst, but with some fluff and smut undertones

contains: wonho can't help but remember about you, lee y/n, the love of his life, his wife and the mother of his beautiful daughter, in the middle of an online concert he's holding, specially when performing his new song flash, which was made just or you (the songs are not in order of albuns!! it's all mixed)

flashbacks are in italic!!!

tw// death, car accident, sasaengs!!

the concert started out with the 'smutty songs', so he wouldn't cry at the beginning, but he couldn't help but remember about when he wrote with you, thinking about you two, loving each other until the morning, or having some rough sex, it depended on the mood, but it was about you two, and he couldn't help but remember; your blissed out face, the sounds you made just for him, mewls, whimpers and moans, just for him, the love bites and scratches you leaved on his skin at hidden places so no one would figure out, your scent, your taste... everything came back to his mind in that moment

hoseok wished he could be at least turned on from the memories he had, but he was broken, he couldn't be nothing but sad remembering about his love, his sweet y/n, who's not here anymore to comfort him after a bad day, to take care of him when he's sick, to make love to him, to kiss and cuddle, to cook his favorite ramen flavors, and to help him to take care of your newborn baby, to help him to change diapers when he don't know what to do, to see you breastfeeding the sweet embodiment of your love... how he wished you were there at that moment, he couldn't believe that you'd left him, that you had left your family

he swore he lost his energy after singing open mind, thinking that he couldn't handle that anymore, he just wanted to lay on the ground and cry, hoping you could hear him and come to cuddle and comfort your husband, but wonho knew you wouldn't come

when lose started to play, he smiled a bit while singing, remembering how you got moody when you entered the set to support him and saw your man hugging the actress by behind, the same way he used to do with you while cooking or doing something important, or when he wanted to talk with the baby during your pregnancy

your pouty face was the death of him, he remembered exactly the texture of your lips on his when he was saying how sorry he was

"you're not going to say a word to me, baby?" you shook your head no "okay, so..." he leaned forward to kiss you, taking care of your growing stomach "do you forgive me now?"

"u-ugh, fine" you blushed, hearing his giggle "but please, do it with me the next time" you laughed

"i swear that in my next mv, you'll be the actress, and our little princess needs to be there too, right?" he smiled

when the sexy concept songs ment ended, a vcr came out, and he made sure to include you on the behind the scenes of the concert, the few last clips of you two together, you helping him with choreographies and figurines, a long video of you guys choosing the right outfits for open mind mv (yeah, he did some of them without the help of his staffs) playing while he changed and prepared himself to the other ment

when lost in paradise started to play, while he sang, hoseok couldn't help but remember that day in which he asked you to marry him, he asked you to be the woman of his life, and he also remembered about your wedding day, smiling widely while thinking about when the two of you started a life

'i got a feeling it's you' said the lyrics, and yes, he got that feeling, and he was completely right, it was you, the love of his life

the wedding ceremony has ended, you two were at a hill, even though he has acrophobia, he insisted to have a wedding at that place, he felt safe in your arms, and now, the two of you looked at the place, seeing the lake below you, and the beautiful view you had from the little forest, his hands still on your hips

"how does it feel to be finally my wife, love?" he smiled

"i feel like... i feel like this is all a dream" you said, caressing the hand on your hip with your other one "and i don't want to wake up. never."

he smiled widely, turning to face you, his hand still in your hip, while the other one caressed your face, carefully wiping the joyful tears that escaped from your eyes, trying his best not to ruin your makeup

"i wanted this dream to come true so bad... i feel like i'm in paradise now" he said "and i'm so happy that our dream finally came true, y/n, i love you so much, and i'll love you forever" he whispered, kissing you

yes, it was true, maybe he was really lost in paradise with you, but now, you weren't there anymore, just memories about you

even losing you seemed to have a different meaning now..... how he wished he could be there to save you, he wanted to protect you

now, it was the interview time, and he wasn't all smiley like before, and the interviewer wasn't helping that much

"so, wonho-ssi... some of your fans noticed that you're not smiling too much today... what happened?" she asked him

"i wasn't going to talk about it, but i can't hide it from wenees anymore..." he sighed "it's just that... every single thing i do here remember me from y/n, my lovely wife, who's not here anymore"

"and what happened to her?" the interviewer didn't seemed to be aware of the situation

"there might be some wenees who don't know what happened... okay, i'll explain" he felt himself getting braver to talk about what was making he lose his sleep "i've hid about my relationship with y/n for about 7 years, but when we got married, i knew lots of fans would talk about it, so our relationship became public... how could i hide this from my precious wenees? i wanted my fans to know about my family" he felt the tears starting to run on his cheeks "i was so happy when i announced that she was pregnant... i thought wenees would be happy, too, but unfortunately, some of them started to become aggressive towards y/n" he was sobbing, even the interviewer couldn't held her tears, starting to feel guilty by asking him that "some obsessive fans started to stalk her when eunbi turned 5 months old and she started to sing again... and near to our princess' 11 month anniversary, when y/n was coming back from mcountdown, some of those wen..." he corrected himself "those sasaengs collided with her car, they were at a high speed, so it was a huge accident, and she didn't resisted..." he was angry, sad, he couldn't help but cry "i couldn't thank her to be with me, to be the mom of my precious daughter... i couldn't say a last 'i love you'... the last thing we did together as artists was the ain't about you mv... and that morning, the last thing she did before going out was to feed our baby girl, and kiss me..." i miss her so much... please, y/n, come back to me... the police had arrested those girls already, but please... say that you love me one more time" all he could do was cry

the staffs thought about ending the concert without an encore, but he insisted to sing the song he wrote for you, flash, while calming himself when the cameras were off

hoseok saw eunbi, his now one year old daughter sleeping while a staff kept an eye on her, he smiled, his eyes were still red and swollen, his face was puffy, so the baby seemed to notice, even if she was still half asleep when her dad held her tightly in his arms, she managed to grab his nose while smiling with the pacifier still in her mouth, her other hand holding the bunny plushie her mom gave her in the 10 months old birthday

"my sweet eunbi" he cooed "daddy will sing a song for mommy today... will you sing with me?" the baby smiled, her pacifier almost dropping, but wonho put it back in her mouth as soon as he could

he kissed her forehead, and then, started to retouch his makeup and change the jacket, holding eunbi in his arms again, going back to the stage

he grabbed the mic, knowing that they were on air, the first public appearance of his daughter, a beautiful moment, even if it was melancholic

Tonight I am still standing In the middle of nowhere, not knowing how you’re feeling I’m trying to find you because I was the only one who didn’t know When and where it went wrong like a fool I want to turn back time and stop it An endless flash, my love for you

while singing, he meant each one of those words, his love for you would be infinite, he'd never stop loving you, or the huge present you left him — a precious daughter, and photos of the two of you were passing through the big screens behind him, photos of your family, wedding day, honeymoon, selcas... everything he had to remember from you

The day I hugged you for the first time The day that will never come again I repeat the words alone, I love you

all he wanted to do in that moment was for you to be there, to sing with him, both of you holding your daughter, smiling... being a happy family, suddenly, he remembered that day, wishing he could turn back time to the day of your first hug, he wanted to hold you in his arms forever

You shined on me like a lighthouse When I was on my own and lost my way, flash You were shining, flash Will I ever forget you? I miss you You held me like a hero When I was unknown, tired and collapsing, flash You were warm, flash Will I ever find you again? I miss you

you were his light, when someone broke him, when he got into those scandals, when he couldn't go back to his fans, you were the one there, you were his flash, helping him to find the way back home, to give him the love he deserves

You left me and I’m the only one here I call you but there’s no answer, what else can I do? I thought I cared for you more than anything But it was my mistake, how hard was it for you? Come back to me please, give me one more chance Shine on me beautifully like you’ve always did I know bae gone be the last time This is how I’m feeling If I can see you one last time, one love

he was calling you even now, his mind was wandering back to all the memories he had with you, his one and only love, but you weren't going to answer him, you couldn't just come back from the dead

The day I let you go from my arms The day that will never come again I repeat these words alone, I want to see you

suddenly, hoseok felt guilty again while singing this part, he shouldn't let you go from his arms that morning, he should've faked being sick, or anything he could just for you to be home and live a little more

You’ve given me so much I still have more to give you back We can’t stop like this If I have one more chance

he wanted to do all he could for you, but you wouldn't be there to see it, and he would never be able to give back all the love and support you gave him, so he was doing his best to be happy for you even tho he's broken, he needed to be strong for his daughter

You left me and I’m the only one here I call you but there’s no answer, what else can I do? The shining flash, yeah Now I can be your destiny Like I’m your everything? If you’re in my arms, I won’t let you go The flash will be shining on us I’m waiting for the day you smile again

he felt the tears teasing his eyes again, but he held them back this time, ending the song with a smile, playing with the baby in his arms, hearing eunbi's loud laugh, filling his heart with some joy, finally, and he truly smiled, laughing with her

"y/n, i love you! thank you for giving me everything!" was the last thing he shouted before ending the concert

even when you're not there anymore, he felt as if he was being the most loved man in the earth by you and your daughter

#monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x x reader #monsta x fluff #monsta x angst #monsta x wonho #wonho #wonho angst #wonho fluff #wonho scenarios #wonho imagines #wonho x reader

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beelspillowpet · 4 years ago

Note

Brothers reactions to a fem disaster bi MC who swoons over like every fem demon they see in the devildom?

Just got finished screaming over how much I LOOOOOVE THIS PROMPT. BI DISASTER YEEEEAAAAHHHH

Thank you for being the first to request something from me! 😭😭😭 I apologize in advance that these hcs aren't SUPER FOCUSED on the MC being a female themselves, but I tried my best with sneaking it in there when I could!

I've decided that along with MC, the brothers are also bisexual for the prompts too! You can be a mess together! <3 Sorry it took so long!

Lucifer

Oh. You seemed so interested in that girl who passed you by. You were smitten, he might say. Never mind it, he didn’t want to assume anything of it. Maybe you were just really fond of that girl's appearance.

The next girl he spotted you talking with, he was a bit concerned. You shouldn’t be off making friends with just ANY demons. They could be plotting to take your soul if you aren’t careful. Your palette seemed to be meshed, you were now talking to boyish women and feminine men. It was starting to come together for him now that you are, in fact, bisexual. A truly chaotic one, at that.

Over the next few weeks, he sees you flourish more and more with your obsession over women and men together. It’s not like you’ve forgotten about him, far from it. In fact, sometimes he listens to you rant about how beautiful this girl is at RAD, talking about her eyes or her lips. Other times he listens to you cry over how absolutely GORGEOUS this man is. He will never admit that he finds your taste in men and women to be quite similar to his. Almost exactly the same.

He listens to you sometimes talk to his brothers about how unrealistically, unreasonably cute, that girls are. You don't have nearly as much energy talking about men than you do women, but it's still there. He doesn’t really indulge you as much as he should, but he gives you enough input to invite you to keep ranting about BEAUTIFUL women and men.

Mammon

Same, dude. Same.

Mammon is a powerful bisexual, and you are the one who made him realize this(?!). He pretends he's not listening to you half the time, but he's hanging on your every word. When you two hang out, sometimes you push your D.D.D to his face to show you another model you've found on Devilgram. "His abs are SMOKIN' hot, Mammon, look!!" He has to agree. He's got a nice body. "Look at her soft face! She's SO unbelievably cute! And those curves, oof!”

He's watching you swoon and he can't believe it. You're both chaotic disasters, swooning over man and woman alike. You put much more life into your talks about women than you do men, and it worries him sometimes that he might not actually give him the time of day whenever he works up the courage. When you talk about those cute women, he does mostly still think about you. You have such beautiful eyes, and soft hair, when he's allowed to touch it. He wonders why you haven't seen it yourself.

At some point he let's it slip that he, himself, may or may not be bisexual, when you catch him scrolling through Devilgram of some of the models you've shown him in the past. The two of you spend hours on end, swooning over every male and female in sight.

Leviathan

You two are feral bisexuals. Especially fond of girls. Leviathan and you have both played those H-games. You know the ones. He catches you from time to time, listening to ASMR of girls patting your head or talking you through a rough patch in your life. He definitely knows when you're listening to lewd audio clips of women too.

He thinks for a while that you're a lesbian, and he's completely fine with that. It isn't until your attention abruptly SHIFTS when you find a SMOKIN' HOT anime boy that he realizes you are a disaster of a bisexual. Sometimes it's like a day and night shift with you. When you see girls at anime conventions you swoon uncontrollably. Gripping his arm and giving those compressed SCREECHES from the throat with shut lips. He can't help but think you're hyperbolic sometimes.

Deep down inside, he feels the exact same way. It's just too embarrassing to act like that though. But even though he feels that way, he watches you shuffling over to the cosplayers and otaku girls and asking for pictures. If you're lucky, you might even score a number from one of them! How dare you have better social skills than him? It's SOOO not fair??

He decides one of these days he'll take a page out of your book. He'll happily geek out about girls to you (especially if there's a Ruri-Chan cosplayer!?) and occasionally about the guys too. You both lean towards females anyway, and he's glad he's found someone just like him.

Satan

Oh. Girls? Guys? He's here, and he's listening.

He doesn't have any picture books, but the way the books describe some of the women? *chef's kiss* He loves it! He's watched you attempt to capture their beauty on paper (or tablet and laptop!) and smiles at your attempts. He calls them attempts because that's what you call them. "Nothing I do can truly capture the beauty that is any female that exists here." And he AGREES.

He finds your ridiculous chanting of GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS to be a riot. He joins in if it means pissing Lucifer off with the noise pollution. When you shift to guys, he's still as vocal as before. You probably aren't that great at drawing guys yet, but that's cool. He appreciates your enthusiasm. You catch him staring at you from time to time, and you wonder if he ever thinks you're as cute of a girl as the other ones you two fawn over.

Like a distorted clock, you talk about girls for at least two hours of his time, and then another hour about boys. He can't believe how much energy you put into loving women. He wonders if you're like Asmo, and just appreciate women a little bit too much. After all, the previous mention of chanting GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS is still fresh on his mind. You really are a messy bisexual, but you're his favorite messy bisexual, at least.

Asmodeus

OH HECK YEAH. YOU BOTH ARE A WRECK!

GIRLS. BOYS. GIRLS. BOYS. It's a never ending cycle with you two. It's like you're rabid animals, constantly going out to The Fall for the scoop on the next hottest guy to walk in. When you see a girl though, it's like you're straight out of a cartoon. You don't howl or whistle or anything of the sort that may be unsightly or rude but you ARE WATCHING. RESPECTFULLY.

You and Asmo are unashamed when it comes to flirting with men and women alike. You share tips that have worked in the past for each other, and having the Avatar of Lust give you pointers is a nice bonus overall. Asmo thinks for a while that you are a normal bisexual, but he's proven wrong when you find a group of beautiful women, who you hyper focus on for the next few weeks. He's honestly impressed.

It's like your attraction to men has almost disappeared, and he worries that perhaps you don't love him more than any woman you run across in the Devildom anymore. Your attention to men is still there with passing comments of "yeah he's really cute" but you're RIGHT BACK to the topic of GIRLS. he can't blame you. Women are QUEENS, just like you're an absolute QUEEN to him. He's more than happy to indulge some lewd talk about women, and you both spend hours doing exactly that most nights.

Beelzebub

Oh, that's cool. Someone else in this house likes both men and women. He's glad you're comfortable sharing so much with him. Usually when you do go for jogs in the morning, he watches you at his side while he listens to you. There's apparently this blonde woman with dark skin and she looks absolutely DIVINE. His brain focuses on imagining a pretzel with salt sprinkled over it, and he drools. He likes that thought, very much.

It's when you see said jogger does he truly realize your fixation on women is something to be feared. You're practically floating when she jogs by, almost wanting to go after her. Beel stops you, and asks if you're okay, worried that you might trip over your own feet if you swoon any harder. He thinks its cute. You start to dress like this jogging woman, wearing her color scheme in hopes that she'll notice you. Maybe he'll try to help and play wingman for you.

He doesn't open up about it at first, but eventually he does finally speak up when you bring up a man you see at the gym with him from time to time. He blushes a bit because he knows immediately who you're talking about. You like that guy, and Beel really likes him too. When you two see him at the gym, you both swoon a bit too much. While spotting Beel one time, he passed by and Beel nearly dropped his weights on his chest. This caused a bit of attention your way and flustered, you helped Beel set the weights back up and make sure he was okay. That wasn't the first or last time an accident happened at the gym either.

At the Fangol games, it's even worse, somehow. You sit as close as possible to the field, and halftime is your FAVORITE time. All those cute cheerleaders? Cheering for their teams? You forget in all the glory that is the ABSOLUTE BEAUTY OF WOMEN that you're supposed to be rooting for Beel. You spend the rest of the game reimagining the routines that were performed, and Beel is right there admiring them too. Quietly, at least. You're a bit too enthusiastic about your love for women, and Beel thinks you're cheering louder for them than you are for him when he's playing. He doesn't mind it too much though. He'd probably be the same way, provided he let loose a little more.

Belphegor

He doesn't bother with you. It's like you talk a mile a minute, only interested in girls for the most part. Occasionally you'll talk about a hot guy, and well, he's listening but... It's sort of hard for him to fall asleep with all your rambling about women. With such detail, it's like you're trying to give him material to imagine while he sleeps.

Belphie tries his hardest not to tell you to quiet down sometimes. He's forced to come to RAD, he's stuck by your side, mostly because your taste in men and women are quite similar to his. He's been sorely lacking on the cute girls and guys here at RAD, but he can count on you to provide eye candy for him. Not that he's going to act on it. Most of the time, he's too busy trying to block out your constant rambling. He notices it's mostly about women.

He thinks you're insecure at first, trying to appeal to him, presumably a straight guy, while appearing interested in men to seem straight too. He let's it be known for your comfort, if you like girls more than guys, then it's fine. He's not one to care or judge others on their interest. An anarchist at heart, and your chaotic bisexuality freak-outs are what he lives for. If you were more quiet about it, he would find it easier to fall asleep to. He manages to do that a few times.

Let's it slip while talking about a dream he had that he's interested in guys too. Maybe a little more than you are, though. 50/50 at best. He doesn't really encourage you to talk more about the girls you absolutely DROOL over, but whenever you two are out and you spot a woman, he's always side eyeing you and telling you to wipe your mouth. He sometimes makes a show of it, teasing you by panting like a dog, or telling you to heel. It's all in fun though, and he lets up before it gets too embarrassing.

#om!#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphgor

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jayeray-hq · 4 years ago

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Sakusa : You Know We’re Meant to Be

JayeRay’s fluff prompts

Post Time Skip/Manga Spoilers!

Warnings: A little but of Hurt/Comfort and bullying but lots of Fluff after

If you like this, please check out the Character Masterlist!

This is part of a collaboration I’m doing with @lilolpotato some fluff to counter some of the hate from the Sakusa Hate Night thing that was going around 😊💖 Also a huge huge thank you to the amazingly talented @yuujiscurse for the banner! Their work is amazing! 😊💖

You weren’t sure if they simply didn’t know you could hear them whispering or if they simply didn’t care, as you stood waiting for your boyfriend to emerge from the locker rooms. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to wait long, Sakusa was usually the first out due to insisting on showering before the others of the team could infect the space with their germs. Still today you hoped he would hurry, even faster than usual, so you could leave the receptionist and the woman she was talking to, likely someone who worked in the building, far behind you.

“What does he even see in her?” the woman who’d greeted you almost every time you’d entered the building with a saccharine smile that was apparently hiding a mouthful of venom whispered to her blond coworker.

“I certainly don’t see anything special,” the other woman, a pretty brunette agreed giving you a clear once over a blatantly dismissive look on her face, “She’s probably absolutely hideous behind that mask she wears all the time.”

Your hands balled into fists in your jacket, as you tried to ignore them, reminding yourself that you wore the mask for a reason. It was for both your comfort, and your boyfriends. Sakusa’s germaphobia was a very real fear, and frankly you didn’t mind doing a few things to accommodate his fear, or make him feel more comfortable where you could, especially since you knew he would and had done the same for you before.

Wearing a mask out in public was a simple thing, and frankly considering the pollution in Japan, not all that uncommon. The women were clearly being deliberately petty and you sank deeper into the jacket burrowing into it, and taking comfort in the familiar smell and feel of it. It was one of Sakusa’s old Itachiyama jackets, one he’d gifted to you when the two of you had first started dating.

It was warm and comfortable, and a blatant reminder of how very much your boyfriend cared about you. After all very few people were allowed to touch his things, and even fewer were given gifts, especially sentimental gifts. Komori had teased the two of you for days when Sakusa had first given it to you, exclaiming every time he saw you wearing it that even he had never been allowed to touch Sakusa’s Itachiyama jackets and he was his cousin.

It smelled like him, clean and crisp from the detergent he preferred to use for all of your clothing, one you’d become quite fond of yourself, and that you associated solely with him. It took your mind off the cruel women in front of you, at least for a little while.

“Can you believe just the other day he dropped his towel on accident, I tried to hand it to him, and he gave me the most disgusted look and just walked away,” the brunette told the receptionist clearly deeply offended by the incident, “As if I were something dirty he’d found on the bottom of his shoe.”

“I’ve tried to give him pens to use before,” the receptionist admitted equally huffy as she explained, “He won’t touch them, not until he disinfects them with a wipe first, and even then he’ll only hold them if he’s wearing gloves.”

You sighed quietly to yourself, a part of you wanting to storm over there and defend your boyfriend and an equal part understanding, just a bit where they were coming from. Sakusa had a fear, one that was very real to him, even if it seemed silly to others, and he had extreme ways of reacting when forced to face that fear. Still even you could admit sometimes his inability to properly interpret social cues could leave him coming off cold, or even cruel even if he didn’t mean to be that way.

“I bet she’s not even his girlfriend,” the spiteful brunette hissed, “Just an obsessed groupie who follows him around.”

“He probably treats her like trash,” the receptionist added in a cruel enjoyment to her unkind speculations, “Which is really no less than she deserves honestly.”

The women were clearly lashing out, and on the only target the had readily available, but that didn’t stop you from feeling hurt or furious on behalf of your boyfriend. How dare they insinuate he treated you badly? The idea was infuriating especially when you knew how very hard he tried for you.

Sure, your relationship wasn’t all smooth sailing, but then what relationship was? Yes, you’d had to exercise a lot of patience as Sakusa slowly worked himself up to touching you, but it had been completely and utterly worth it. The feeling of being held in his arms, knowing he desperately wanted you to be there, so much so that he fought off his worst fears in order to do so was indescribable. You’d honestly never felt as loved as you did when your germophobic boyfriend reached his hand out to you, assuring you that he wanted to be able to touch you.

Even several years in you still couldn’t cuddle without a thorough shower beforehand, and some aspects of physical intimacy, including public displays of affection were especially hard, but it was worth it. You were so proud, both of your boyfriend and how very far the two of you had come as a couple, and it infuriated you that these two women, who knew absolutely nothing of his struggles would dare to insinuate such awful things about him.

Oh, you knew they probably didn’t actually believe them. You’d dealt with jealousy from other women before. Your boyfriend was undeniably incredibly good looking, stunning even, and for some reason a lot of people found his supposedly aloof and cold demeanor cool and enticing. He’d had fans for as long as you’d known him.

Still it didn’t stop you from wanting to march right up to the women and force them to take it back. They could say what they wanted about you, but in no way shape or form would you allow them to badmouth your secretly dorky and completely socially inept boyfriend. Honestly one more word from them and you might’ve done just that, fortunately or unfortunately your furious thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Hey,” the sound of his voice pulled you from your murderous thoughts and turned your attention to Sakusa who had emerged from the locker rooms at last. His hair was still a little damp from his shower, the dark curls not quite as springy as they usually were as they fell across his forehead, and he was fully zipped into his Black Jackals jacket, hands in his pockets the traditional mask covering half his face, “let’s get going before the others come out.”

“Sure,” you agreed trying to keep your tone as upbeat and normal as possible ready to fall into step with him and head to the store, which was the whole reason you’d agreed to meet him at the Black Jackals usual practice gym in the first place.

However it seemed you hadn’t done a very good job of concealing the lingering upset from overhearing the women’s gossip session. That or your boyfriend was getting better at reading you, though both honestly were possibilities. He stopped in his tracks, forcing you to come to a halt as well, his brows sitting heavily over his dark eyes as he peered at you intently, clear concern visible in them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice taking on the clipped edge that let you know he was deeply concerned. Apparently, you’d been more obvious than you’d thought.

“Nothing,” you tried to assure him, forcing your tone to be upbeat, not wanting to drag him down, “Why would something be wrong?”

“Don’t lie to me,” he ordered, the words blunt, but the clear care in his tone taking any sting out of them. Honestly he had very little in the way of tact at times like these, something you should probably be annoyed by, but could only find strangely endearing.

“It really is nothing,” you assured him, your own tone softening at his clear concern for you, “Just overheard people gossiping about us again.”

“Were you upset by them?” he asked hesitantly, clearly peering into your eyes, his whole body fidgeting with restless energy, a tension to him that reminded you of a rubber band stretched and ready to snap. For all that many read him as uncaring you knew that Sakusa was extremely protective of the few people he allowed close to him, and that you were one of the privileged few. He was clearly ready and willing to tear verbal strips off anyone who’d dared upset you.

“Yes,” you told him, figuring honesty was probably the best policy at this point, “But only because they were saying untrue things about you, about how you treat me.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders relaxed at that, and his eyes softened. You couldn’t see his mouth because of the mask, but long familiarity let you know the corners would be curling up in relief,. He clearly didn’t care a bit what people said about him, an attitude you wished rather desperately that you could emulate.

“Let them say what they want,” he told you firmly, “It’s not something that bothers me, so don’t let it bother you.”

“If only it were that easy,” you told him your own lips curling into a wry smile.

Your eyes widened in surprise as he pulled one of his hands from his jacket pockets and gently took hold of your face, the warmth of his shockingly bare fingers on your skin making your heart flip over in your chest his thumb gently swiping across your cheekbone rendering you completely and utterly speechless.

“The only opinions about my person that I care about are opinions from people who matter to me,” he told you sincerity dripping from very word, “And the only opinion I care about when it comes to our relationship is yours.”

Your heart was beating a rapid tattoo against your ribs at his fervent declaration, especially since you knew he meant every word. Your boyfriend was nothing if not completely and utterly honest when it came to you, even brutal at times. He was never one who’d spare your feelings, which was how you knew moments like these were as raw and honest as it was possible to be.

“I love you Kiyoomi,” you told him a little helplessly, the words falling out of your mouth before you’d had a chance to really think about them.

“I love you too,” he responded without missing a beat, even if you could see the faintest of pink blushes decorating the tops of his cheekbones over the mask, “And I don’t like seeing you upset. What people say about me doesn’t bother me, so please don’t let it bother you.”

“But wouldn’t you be upset if people were saying things about me?” you pointed out reasonably, well aware he would be, as he’d proven many times over in the past.

He clearly couldn’t think of an argument to that and so instead remained silent, so you continued, “You mean so much to me Kiyoomi and it hurts to hear anyone might think poorly of you or insinuate cruel things about you and how you treat me that are blatantly untrue.”

He watched you with soft eyes, his thumb still gently tracing your cheek as he explained, “So long as those things don’t cause you to doubt me I could care less.”

“Never,” you assured him fervently, “I like to think that by now I know you pretty well Kiyoomi and I don’t think there’s anything ridiculous petty gossipers could to make me doubt you, to doubt us. Despite the fact that we’ve had our challenges I always felt like we fit well together. Like two pieces of a puzzle.”

“I’m glad,” he admitted freely, “I’ve always hoped that you’d felt the way I do.”

“The way you do?” you repeated curiously.

“Like you know you’re meant to be,” he told you the words stealing the breath from your lungs and you were fairly sure you forgot how to breathe entirely as he leaned forward to press a gentle masked kiss to your forehead.

Fortunately, or unfortunately you were pulled from your thoughts by raucous sounds from behind the two of you. It turned out you’d been so wrapped up in your conversation with your boyfriend you hadn’t noticed you were blocking the hallway and keeping the rest of the team as a captive audience of sorts. Apparently the private, intimate moment wasn’t nearly as private as you’d thought, and you were suddenly incredibly grateful the mask helped cover your cherry red cheeks.

Apparently Bokuto was the one who’d interrupted your moment, too moved by it to stay quiet any longer, and now the former Fukurodani Ace was fervently congratulating your poor boyfriend about how smooth he was. Sakusa looked incredibly put upon as the team swept you up with them as they left the building in a small herd, all of them gently teasing or congratulating the two of you on how very cute your relationship was.

In the midst of all the chaos your boyfriend managed to sneak his hand into yours, his fingers twining together to keep you close and connected to him. You accepted the gesture, feeling warm, and secure and completely and utterly loved, enough to shoot the poisonous receptionist and her bitter friend a blinding smile on your way out the door.

Sakusa was right. Their opinions, especially on your relationship, shouldn’t matter to you, at the end of the day you knew he loved you and that was more than enough.

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa fluff #love sakusa #sakusa love #sakusa x y/n #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x y/n #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #haikyu fluff #haikyū!!#sakusa oneshot #JayeRayWrites

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sweatersstyles · 4 years ago

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wonderful and warm

gif credit

I’m so excited to share this piece with y’all for @tbslenthusiast‘s dad-a-thon!! I’ve been debating whether or not to expand more on I Want Your Belly for a while now, so I’m considering this part two to that, though you don’t really have to read it first to understand this one. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

thank you @peachybloomss and @tbslenthusiast for beta reading for me! love y’all both!!

word count: 2.6k

You had been adamant about not telling anybody for at least the first two months.

Your mom’s complications with each of her pregnancies prompted a fear in you that you might share in that gene she carried, so you just wanted to be sure. Make it to your first ultrasound at least to confirm the baby was happy and healthy. Harry, of course, had agreed to whatever it was you felt was best. He wanted you to be comfortable and truth is, all the complications or things that could go wrong, terrified him too.

But the second you put this man in front of a crowd, all his previous filters go out the window and it was slipping from his lips easily, telling the world that you were having his baby. You were angry at first, spending half of the show trying to calm your shaky hands. Honestly, most of it was just nervous energy at the idea of so many people knowing. It was out, and you had no control over the reactions of the millions of people that shared in loving your Harry. He was quick to remind you that you were the one he loved, no one else’s opinion mattered to him and it shouldn’t to you either.

Making such a public announcement meant the news reached your families ears a lot faster than you’d planned too, and you just didn’t want any of them to be hurt that they weren’t told first.

Anne is the first one to contact Harry from his side, promptly inviting you to dinner the following weekend with a small group of Harry’s family. But the closer you get to the day, the more anxious you are and he once again reminds you how much his family adores you already, would now love you even more.

“Even more than they love me now, probably,” He chuckles, taking your hand on the drive to his mother’s house, “Gonna be just like any Sunday dinner at Mum’s, innit? We just have something a little extra special t’celebrate now, lovie.”

Gemma answers the door to let the two of you in and she tugs you in for a hug, pulling you into the house without so much as a glance to her younger brother.

“Nice to see you too, Gem.” He follows the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ignore him..someone’s just jealous they won’t be Mum’s favorite anymore.” She giggles, rolling her eyes as she leads you into the kitchen where Anne mimics her daughter’s greeting, scolding Harry playfully that he spoiled the surprise so soon.

By the end of the night, the two of them are already making predictions about what the baby will be, giving family name suggestions, and planning a baby shower for you.

Calling your family was a whole new level of anxiety you hadn’t experienced yet on this journey, and you paced back and forth in front of the desk where your iPad was already set up to FaceTime them. Harry sits on the foot of the bed, waiting for your nerves to settle enough to contact them.

“D’you want me to join you?” He doesn’t look at you, just continues to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.

Your head pops up to where he sits, “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, “S’just..sometimes I think you might still be a bit mad at me. For letting it slip earlier than we wanted. Thought you might wanna talk to them alone first..in case they’re upset with me too.”

“I was never really mad. And I don’t think they’ll be upset..just may take them a little longer to accept that I didn’t tell them before you told everyone. They may not have even seen it yet.”

That was a lie. Your sister had texted you last night saying that she was thrilled to soon have a niece or nephew, but your mom had cried for a two whole days after they saw a clip from the show and your dad refused to even talk about it. Your brother was normally so far out of the loop that you truly didn’t know if he had heard the news, so you make a mental note to call him later too.

You wouldn’t tell Harry any of that though, not now anyway. Maybe later, when everything didn’t feel so tense. You knew your family wouldn’t be upset forever, they loved Harry almost as much as you did. The joy of having a new baby added to the family would soon override any hurt they were feeling now.

“Harry, whatever they say..this is still happening. I’m still having your baby. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy that makes me.”

The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, drawing you closer to sit next to him.

“Say that again.”

“What? How happy I am..”

“No, the part before that.”

A giggle works its way up through your chest, a deep blush flushing your cheeks, “I’m having your baby,” You can’t resist, the tune now stuck in your head, changing the lyric slightly to fit, “It’s none of their business.”

“What? S’your family, of course it’s their..oh, right.” He shares in your laughter, melting away any tension that had settled in the room, restoring your confidence that everything would be alright.

As many changes as your body had gone through during pregnancy, one thing that hadn’t changed was Harry’s love for your belly. His obsession had grown with each month, constantly finding reasons to be close to you throughout your days spent together. Usually it was a hand nudged gently against the side of your bump, trying to coax the baby to kick or move for him.

Your child already adored the sound of their dad’s voice, would normally start to wiggle around the second Harry would start talking or singing anywhere around you. The first time it happened, the two of you were attending a birthday party for a friend and Harry was halfway across the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of your mutual friends. It was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him so quickly, his ability to have a room full of people so captivated by a tale you were sure they had heard at least 5 times before.

But he doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s reactions, his eyes continuously flicking back to gauge your feedback, knowing which parts make you laugh the hardest no matter how many times you’d listened to him tell it. When your mouth falls open with a soft gasp and a hand clutching the side of your belly, he hurries through the ending to weave his way back through the party to you.

“You okay, love? Somethin’ wrong?” The tears falling on your dress don’t match the glowing smile radiating across your face and he’s turning his head amusingly from where he hovers over you.

“Everything’s great, H. Think someone just loves the sound of daddy’s voice.” You take the drink he still holds in his hand and set it on the table in front of you, turning your body to face him and tugging his wrist down to where you had felt the kick moments before, “Say something else now that you’re closer. See if she moves for you.”

“She? You find out somethin’ you wanna tell me, darlin’?”

“No, just a feeling. Haven’t you thought about which you would rather us have?”

He shakes his head no, his eyes bright with a pride you’ve never seen burn so intensely, “As long as you and they end up happy and healthy in the end, s’all that matters to me.”

He scoots his body to sit on the bench next to you, bending his head to speak softly, “Hello, little one. S’daddy. Mummy’s here too. Wanna move around a bit more f’us?”

He rests his head there for a moment, a hand rubbing along the side of your stomach, not caring who at the party may see the two of you or how silly he may look. He looks like a child who’s just been granted his one and only wish when your baby responds, a foot landing against where his cheek is pressed.

“There you are, baby. You kickin’ at me? Cheeky little thing y’are already..just like mummy, huh?” He turns to kiss the spot where the foot had been, ”We’re g’nna have so much fun when you get here, angel.”

Harry watches your feet a lot more closely these days.

You didn't notice it at first. But today as you're coming down the stairs, you catch his eyes watching carefully as he waits for you. One of your hands cradles your bump that seems to be growing daily now, while the other glides along the railing to keep yourself steady.

"Am I wearing mismatched shoes or something?" You lean forward in an attempt to look at your feet over your belly, nearly toppling down the last few stairs. The look on Harry's face would have been comical if it wasn't laced with so much fear as he lunged forward to meet you and help you the rest of the way down.

"Careful!" Even with you settled safely now against his side, his voice is full of worry, "Nothing's wrong with your shoes, honey. Just wanted to make sure you made it down safely, know how clumsy y'are."

"You worry too much, Harry. I would've made it down fine if you hadn't been staring at my feet."

"My girl's carrying my baby..m’allowed to worry about you both. Y'sure I can't convince you to stay home and let me do the grocery shopping this week?"

"No, I wanna go. Last time you forgot the bagels."

"Are you ever gonna forgive me for that?" You're glad to see the fear has fallen away from his face as you both reach the bottom of the stairs together.

"Maybe." You shrug, "Might take a few more kisses though."

"Deal." One of his hands comes to rest warmly on the underside of your belly, the other one still supporting the small of your back as he bends down to place kisses across your face.

A kick from within your stomach has both of you giggling and looking down to where it's pressed between the two of you.

"Are you mad at daddy too, hmm? Already two against one around here, I see. Alright then, baby gets kisses too."

“Harry will you please get up? We only have an hour to get ready and make it to the appointment. I don’t wanna be late!”

He rolls over, intending to pull you closer to him for a morning kiss, an important part of his usual routine. He frowns when he finds you’re already out of bed, digging through drawers of your dresser to find what you need to get ready for the day.

You haven’t noticed he’s awake yet so you keep encouraging him, “C’mon, made you breakfast. It’s an important day!”

“You’re not allowed to do that, y’know.”

“Do what?” You’re only half paying attention, tugging a dress over your head and scowling at your reflection in the full length mirror when it doesn’t fit over your belly. You quickly pull it back off and toss it in the pile you’ve already tried (and failed) to stretch over your growing bump.

“Daddy’s s’posed to make breakfast for mummy while she sleeps in, not the other way ‘round.”

“Well, mommy was too nervous to sleep in so she’s up getting ready, as daddy should be!” You tug one of your maternity shirts from a hanger in your closet and throw it over your head, declaring to yourself that it’ll just have to do. Thankfully it pairs well with the black leggings you’ve already struggled through pulling on. You plop on the edge of the bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips as you look around at the mess you’ve made of your shared bedroom.

“Mummy needs to relax. She looks beautiful in whatever she wears, no matter what day it is.” He rubs a hand along your back, up to soothe over the pinch between your shoulder blades.

“Nothing fits anymore, swear this belly gets bigger by the day. If I find out today you put a set of twins in me, Styles, you are gonna be in so much trouble.”

He throws his head back, a deep rumbling laugh erupting from his chest, “Aww c’mon, lovie. Twins would be so fun! Think we’d get lucky and have one of each? A boy and a girl?” He kisses your shoulder.

He’s pulling you in to rest against his chest now, the fabric of his well worn t-shirt cool and soft on your cheek. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss firmly to the top of your head.

“Just lay with me a minute, hmm? Did you get any sleep last night? Felt you tossing and turning for half of it.”

“Maybe a couple of hours. I was too nervous.”

“You should’ve woken me. Hate the idea of you being awake and nervous alone, honey.” One hand trails up to cup your chin, a thumb smoothing over the tension set in your jaw.

“I honestly don’t know how you got any sleep. I wasn’t alone though, I think I kept the baby up half the night too.” You shift to face him, resting your chin on his chest, seeking the comfort of his face, “Are you okay? You’re not nervous at all?”

“M’fine. What’s to be nervous about? We get to see our baby today, find out what it is. I couldn’t be happier about that.” He brushes a strand of hair softly away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Maybe it’s more excitement than nerves. I just felt..restless. Maybe it’s silly, but I just wanted to look nice today too and none of my good clothes fit me anymore.”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, baby. But now? I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you look now. S’important to me that you know and believe that as much as I do. I’ll remind you everyday if y’need me to.”

“You really mean that, Harry?”

“‘Course I do. I know this has been new and scary for both of us, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve fallen into this with such ease and grace, already started gettin’ our home ready for our little one. I can’t wait to see you with them when they’re born.”

“You’re gonna be the most amazing dad. Teaching our child kindness and love, reminding them it’s okay to be whatever they choose to be. It’s important to me that you know how much I adore you and seeing you become the dad you were meant to be? It’s gonna be incredible. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”

“Me either. Think I’d be miserable if it were anyone else.”

“Nah you’d get used to them eventually. Especially if they were having your baby.”

He laughs again, pulling you closer to smush his lips against your temple.

“Alright, up we get,” He scoots away to push himself up and off the bed, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up, “Let’s go see if our little bub got blessed with your nose or cursed with mine.”

You’re over the moon every time you see Harry’s beaming smile when he passes the black and white sonogram photo now proudly displayed on the refrigerator; your son’s nose a perfect mixture of yours and Harry’s.

#dadathon #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #my writing #dad!harry

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years ago

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that final phone call

— Miruko is one tough rabbit, but eventually even the toughest of people need a helping hand. —

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pairing: usagiyama rumi (miruko) x fem!reader

warnings: angst, cursing, blood

word count: 5,836

a/n: this is for the bnharem angst april collaboration!!! here for the best girl miruko. I would die for her and yuh, im so tired its 5:40 am and I just finished this LMAOOO and its scheduled for 9am posting. lets hope for the best, enjoy bbs. angst masterlist here.

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Riiing.

“Pick up…”

Riiing.

“Don’t ignore this…”

Riiingggg.

“P-Please pick up,” Rumi mumbled into the phone, her head spinning, her breathing weak and faint. “Pick up the phone, y/n…”

Riiing.

“Please…”

Riiing.

Rii—

“H-Hello?” your tired voice answered, and just like that, warmth flooded Rumi’s chest. She had to resist the urge from cringing; there was no reason to cringe, she berated herself, accept your feelings Rumi. “If this a prank call, I swear—”

“Y/n,” Rumi finally whispered, the energy that always existed within her fading quickly.

She didn’t need to be in the same room with you; she already knew what you were doing. How your back stiffened at the sound of her voice and how your stomach clenched, remembering what had happened two months ago.

“Why are you calling?” you said so emotionlessly that it was a sucker punch to Rumi’s stomach. A sharp reminder of what she did to you, of what had happened because she was weak.

A ragged breath escaped Rumi’s lips while she closed her eyes, her head laying against the cold concrete, listening to the lull of the line.

“I needed to hear your voice…”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

One and a half years ago.

Usagiyama Rumi, better known as the Number Five Pro Hero Miruko was — to put it lightly — a powerhouse.

Known for her almost brash entrances, sturdy legs, and quick temper, it made sense as to why she wasn’t known as the Bunny Hero. She wasn’t soft enough to be a bunny, nor was she meek or gentle. No, Rumi was a hurricane of energy. She was fast, vibrant, and deadly. She was unmatched in her field of expertise, and she had no problem demanding people know that about her. She dived into her work, no matter how big or how small she handled everything with her fullest capability.

She was obsessed with her job because she always had something to prove.

But even a workaholic such as herself needed a break — or at least time outside of her uniform.

It was nearing midnight, and Rumi was strolling the dark streets of Hiroshima, her hands shoved into her jacket pockets. At the same time, she observed the neighborhoods she protected. It was a Saturday night, meaning that street life was quite busy. After working for two months straight without a single day off, her office staff had forced a two-day vacation on her. Still, it didn’t stop her from scouting these blocks for any sign of criminal activity.

But she stilled when she heard loud arguing many alleys ahead, and with an excited smirk, Rumi took off.

It took her approximately thirty seconds to travel an entire block and into an alleyway where a large and burly man was arguing with a small woman. Rumi stilled, her eyebrow quirking in her confusion, what was going on?

“You have to let me in!” you insist again, your nose scrunching in your annoyance, your chest puffing out, and your eyes blazing. “I have reason to believe that there is a drug-pushing gang in this very club!”

Rumi shifted closer to you, and this now apparent bouncer who was looking less than impressed with you. A drug-pushing gang? She had been trying to find intel on that gang but had been coming up dry, she wanted to know more, to find out more. It seemed that it was her lucky day that she wasn’t relaxing at home because it seemed that you had information she could use. It was ballsy of you to show up at a hideout with such demands… she liked that. Rumi’s eyes looked over at you, and her smirk turned into a grin.

You wore a charcoal grey pantsuit, a white shirt underneath the opened blazer with the first two buttons undone. Her eyes noticed the scruffed up short heels you wore, and the way that your hair was in a chaotic bun. How amusing.

“Oh yeah, little miss nosey? And who the hell do you think you are exactly?” he sneered, taking an intimidating step forward.

The bouncer was easily twice your height, and Rumi watched you, expecting you to take a submissive step back, but was surprised to see you hold your ground.

“The investigative journalist for The Daily Hiro!” you inform back, your eyes daring him without a single bit of nervousness in their blaze.

The bouncer opened his mouth, obviously ready to kick your poor journalist ass when another voice from the alleyway spoke up.

“She is not an investigative journalist,” the voice clipped, evidently very annoyed with your words. “She’s an intern. She makes coffee runs and edits my works, ignore her.”

Rumi’s eyes shifted on an angry reporter she knew by name. Hirano Naoko. A ruthless reporter that she often found herself at odds with because he didn’t agree with her... enthusiastic approach to being a hero.

A pained yelp escaped your lips when he grabbed your bicep and pulled you to him.

To an average person, there would be no way to hear the conversation between the reporter and the intern. Still, Rumi was not an ordinary person, after all.

“I thought I told you to take witness’s statements,” he hissed pulling you away into the darkness. “Not stir up fucking trouble! Drop the fucking gang shit before you get wrapped up in things you don’t want to get caught in.”

“But you don’t understand Hirano-sama, I saw—”

“I could give two shits about what you saw! That doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want! This isn’t some fucking cop show, grow the fuck up. You’re an intern, not a reporter!”

Rumi figured she had enough.

“Hold on!” she yelled, her voice bouncing off the walls of the alleyway, and all three heads snapped her way. Her arms folded across her chest while she tilted her head. There was nothing like the way all three eyes widening when they recognized the famed Rabbit Hero standing before them with a feral grin and civilian clothes. “I want to see if this intern is right, open the door, bouncer.”

The bouncer was like a mountain to the Rabbit.

Tall, muscular, and frightening in this dim and yellow light.

“M-Miruko!” he stammered, his fingers searching for something, and Rumi lowered her stance. Was he trying to inform them that she was here? “What a pleasure seeing you here!”

Then she heard it, the familiar noise of shuffling plastic. He was trying to alert someone.

In an instant, she was before him, her heel slamming onto his chin and sending him flying, knocked out cold.

“This is why we wear heels,” she snickered, watching the mountain of a man crumble to his face. How weak, pathetic. Her attention turned to you, the intern who looked both ready to pass out from this scare and vibrating with excitement. “Intern, you promise those villains are in there?!”

Your eyes flutter, and Rumi takes you all in. Strands of hair fall over your eyes, your painted lips pulled into a large ‘o’ from your shock, but there was that confidence in your eyes that made her lick her lips in anticipation.

“On my life.”

Rumi snickered, now that was an answer she wanted to hear.

And as a one-woman show goes, she flung open the door and, in under twenty minutes, single-handedly brought down the most extensive drug unit within Hiroshima. She had defeated them all, leaving her with significant cuts on her cheeks and arms, a fat lip, a broken heel, and bruises on her toes. But damn did she feel alive.

Rumi watched with a broad grin when the twenty-three men were put into police cars, their injuries far worse than her own. How amazing was that! Months of worrying disappearing on a leisurely night stroll! She couldn’t have done it without… her mouth frowned.

She did it with help?

Her eyes flew over to you, an intern, talking to the cops with a whole file that seemed to come from nowhere with incriminating evidence against this group. Rumi shoved off the medics that were applying more useless bandages on her and walked over to you.

“Oi, intern!” she called, and both you and the police officer turned around. Thankfully, the police officer was either done interviewing you or smart enough to leave once Rumi approached with her trademark grin. “You did good work out there.”

“Miruko-san, oh, um, thank you!” you smiled in return, bowing in greeting when she stopped in front of you. “Congratulations on closing that case!”

“How did you crack them? I’ve been working on finding them slip up for months now, but you figured it out?” Rumi asked, her arms folding and head tilting. “What did you see that I missed?”

Rumi could hear your heart stop and watched the way your eyes widened significantly. “O-Oh, well, I don’t know… I guess I have a knack of being at the right place at the right time?” you laughed, rubbing the back of your head. “To be honest, it was probably more important to me than it was to you… so I able to crack it before you?”

“What makes you say that?” Rumi asks, unsure if she should be offended or not. “Are you trying to say that I’m not working hard enough?!”

“Oh my god, no!” you panic, your hands out in a motion of retreat, your head shaking quickly. Rumi wanted to open her mouth and grill you for answers, but there was something about you that made her hesitate, that made her still. You shrug your shoulders, your hands clasping together. “My future career was riding on this case. The company thinks I’m a nutjob, so if I could prove my ‘conspiracy theories’ were right, I could finally be appointed a job as a journalist!”

Rumi hummed, taking a step closer to you, enjoying the way that your heart sped up when she did so, her head tilting in her amusement, “Well, you did what you had to do, congrats.”

“T-Thank you!” you brighten at the praise, and Rumi does everything she can to not throw an arm around you.

“Usagiyama Rumi,” she introduced herself to you, her hand extended.

You stared at her hand as if she was some goddess instead of a person. But that fire that had interested her well before that erupted back in your eyes. You extended your hand, grasping hers firmly.

“Y/l/n y/n,” you grin, and it’s at this very moment that Rumi solidifies that she indeed likes you.

You were a quiet fire, unlike her own raging one, but she was no idiot. You were something that would burn the entire world down because no one would see you coming, and she liked it.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Six months later.

“RUMI!” your voice shrieks from the kitchen. “HAVE YOU SEEN MY LAPTOP?!”

Rumi was soaking in a bath right now, her eyes closed while absorbing the warm water. Two weeks of straight and intense battles had left her body a bit beat up, but hey, she was currently in her girlfriend’s apartment presently being taught how to relax.

Yes, shocking, her girlfriend’s apartment.

It took a solid week for Rumi to realize that she had feelings for her, something that took a while for her to sort out because she thought she was mentally ill for a second. Nevertheless, her good friend Hawks laughed in her face about how she was not dying but instead just having romantic feelings for you. After that, it took two seconds for her to confess and three minutes for you to say yes.

It was very new for both of you, but Rumi was very pleased with where everything was going at the moment. Dating certainly wasn’t something on her radar for years now, but for some reason, that fire that burned through your soul was enough to pique her interest.

“Check under the bed!” she called back, listening to your feet shuffling against the wooden floor to get to the bedroom.

“Aha, I found it!”

Rumi cracked open a single eye to watch you waddle into the bathroom with the laptop in your hands and a wide grin on your face.

“So, I’m a junior journalist now, nothing too big or fancy, but… I think I have something outstanding in the making!” you excitedly inform her, throwing open the laptop while sinking to the floor next to the tub.

“I thought you said bath time was a no-work zone,” Rumi teases her lips perking and her red eyes drilling into your own.

An embarrassed look flashed across your face, but as you always did, you stood your ground and challenged her.

“I can give my information to a hero who wants it then!” you huff, moving to close the electronic device. “Like you care about my rule, anyways!”

“What a brat!” Rumi barks with laughter, her shoulders rolling in the warm and murky water. Her eyes watched the way her long white hair gently flowed in the water, something you had pointed out looked like moonbeams one night. It had been stupidly stupid, and she would forever remember the way you curled in a ball at your embarrassment. “Tell me!”

Snickering, you nodded, your fingers moving quickly against your keyboard while you searched for the document.

“I have information on the soon to be most dangerous crime group out there,” you inform her, your voice taking on a serious note when you look up at her. “Name it, they’ve done it, and worse yet, they’re a cultish family.”

Rumi felt a chill run down her spine at that information. That wasn’t a title you gave out quickly, nor with such confidence. Together the two of you had taken down four villain groups, and some of them had been nasty fuckers.

“What’s their name?”

“They go by the name Shinseina,” you inform her, your knees pulling up to your chest, the laptop balanced on your knees to show Rumi your document. “I got one tip about two months ago, and that’s all I’ve managed to find on them.”

Rumi stared at the document.

‘Organization Name: Shinseina

Symbol: A Black Sun

Number of Members: ???

Warnings: ???

Leaders: ???

Location of Base: HQ thought to be in Hiroshima, the possibility of there being more is very high

Crimes: Quirk canceling drugs, quirk enhancing drugs, murder, gang affiliation, rape, robbery, theft, illegal quirk usage, money laundering, and 12 more.

Number of Heroes Killed: 16+.’

Two months of hard work, and that was all you had managed.

Rumi didn’t even need to use her quirk to hear your hammering heart, this was obviously upsetting you.

Sighing, she pulled her wrinkled hand out of the tub to motion for you to place the laptop away, her eyes holding yours when you do as commanded. “Come here, loser.”

“That’s rude,” you grumble, but still, you slide to the edge of the tub and watch Rumi.

Rumi sits up in the tub, her lips pressing against yours in a sweet embrace.

Your eyes flutter close at the feeling of her soft and smooth lips against yours. The slight coldness of her skin from just sitting in this water, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine. Rumi chuckled, and the next thing you knew, she was dragging you in.

Rumi relished in the way your pitched screams echoed off the walls, your denial of being brought into the water was useless. Eventually, she pulled your fully clothed body into the lukewarm water with her, and your cries of disapproval faded into beautiful laughter.

Your cheeks burned while Rumi’s fur stood up in triumphant victory.

“I told ya, squirt, I don’t lose.”

You slammed your head against her collarbone, moaning loudly in your defeat, “I hate you!!!”

“Sure, you do!”

Rumi could only dodge out of your way when you went in for a weak attack. It was okay though, she thought, teasing you again for your weak punch. She would always protect you.

Her eyes rapidly blinked when those thoughts fully sank into her mind.

Excuse me?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Six months later.

“An obstacle course?” you repeated, your eyes looking at the bouncy house that was apparently a place for a date. While you pursed your lips, Rumi looked back at her friends who seemed excited. “I’m sorry, but in what world do you expect me — a journalist — to be able to keep up with you Heroes?

Rumi once again turned back to look at Hawks and his intern, who both seem ready to compete. So she turned back around to face you and nodded in egotistical confidence. Your mouth dropped when she finished nodding.

“The only time I exercise is when I chase after people who run away from me!” You cry, obviously not at all prepared to compete against people who practically worked out for living!

“Don’t worry, they won’t use their quirks, and this is a team obstacle course!” Rumi laughs, her arms flexing to show you that there was nothing to worry about. She would make sure you both won even if that meant she would have to carry you to the finish line. “I won’t let you get hurt,”

She knew you wouldn’t like the idea of it; after all, you hated losing. But you were not one to back away from a challenge, and Rumi loved that about you.

“Fine,” you huff, turning towards the obstacle course.

With a loud hoot, Rumi bounced after you, an arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

“This’ll be fun.”

The objective of the course was to get across some pretty insane things together. There was a maze, obstacles to climb over, crawl over, powerfully slam through, all leading up to a freakishly tall wall to go down a slide, which was the finish line. Rumi was brimming with excitement, if she had to launch you across the course, she would. No way in hell was she going to let Hawks of all people beat her.

Shoes came off, and Rumi bounced on her toes at the entrance. She was shoulder to shoulder with both you and Hawks, and her eyes were on the finish line. She was going to win with you, that was the truth.

The employee working the festival stand sighed, staring at the four of you and getting an okay from his coworker.

“You both need to be at the final obstacle at the very end, but only one person needs to cross the finish line to be the winner,” he explained, and his hand raised for a countdown. “Ready?”

Rumi turned toward you, her hand reaching out and grabbing yours and placing a reassuring kiss on the back of your hand.

“Set.”

“Stop being so gay, Rumi, how embarrassing,” Hawks teased to her right.

“Suck my lesbian ass, pigeon.”

“Go.”

Rumi took off instantly, tugging you along with her, and before she knew it, the two of you were on the course. It was actually going better than she was expecting, you weren’t as incapable as you thought. You were able to keep up with a bit of struggle, but Hawks had smacked into a wall earlier, so she wasn’t concerned.

Obstacle after obstacle, the two of you conquered until you reached the wall.

Rumi looked back and noticed that Hawks and his intern were still stuck on the second to last course. That maze had been pretty bullshit.

“I’ll climb first!” Rumi explained, and you agreed with a pant.

Rumi turned back to the wall and began climbing the poorly reinforced steps that were there. It was obviously constructed to be able to withstand a child’s footing and not anyone over the age of seven. So as it was already stupidly tall, it was a struggle to climb.

Rumi was almost to the top when she looked down at you. You were a few steps down, your face twisted in your attempt to concentrate, your arms wobbling under the strain of trying to support yourself. Her attention snapped over to Hawks, who seemed to be scaling the wall, and her eyes widened.

She needed to win.

She scampered up a few more steps before a cry came out.

“R-Rumi!”

Her focus slammed back to you and the way that your fingers slipped from the grasp, and in slow motion, you tumbled. It was without a doubt that this fall wouldn’t have hurt you, not a chance in hell would you have been injured, but Rumi’s instincts took over, and before she knew it, her arms were wrapped around you.

The trampoline bottom crashed onto her back, and you slammed onto her stomach.

Rumi had caught you.

She groaned at the discomfort caused by this action but lay still her hands stroking your cheek. Your eyes were wide, staring up at your girlfriend in complete shock.

“Are you okay?” Rumi asks in a rare moment of softness. “You weren’t hurt, right?”

“Why did you jump after me?!” you yell that amusement she loved so much burning brightly in your gaze. “I wouldn’t have been hurt, you dork!”

“I promised I wouldn’t let you get hurt,” Rumi insists, rubbing her nose against yours.

Once again, she can hear your hammering heart, and it relaxes her.

“But you let Hawks win!”

Rumi blinks at the realization, and suddenly the wheels in her head are turning rapidly.

“Would you ladies mind moving? The champions are ready to visit other stands unless you don’t wanna hang with us anymore!” Hawks calls out to both Rumi and you.

Rumi watches silently when you push off her, pressing a grateful kiss to her lips before responding back to the Pro Hero.

“Oh, Hawks! Has Rumi told you about the new detail about the Shinseina case I’m working on?” you called off, skipping to catch up with her friend that she had allowed to win.

Rumi gave up a victory for you… she threw it away to save you from nothing… she thought that there were things about you that she loved. It didn’t sit well in her chest, and she watched with a twitching nose when you exited the course with that captivating bright smile.

She couldn’t be in love… no, there was no way!

Love made you weak! Love made you insignificant! Love was a demonstration that you weren’t strong enough on your own, and to Rumi — no, to Miruko — that wasn’t okay.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Four months later.

Rumi at the edge of your bed, her head down, ears wilted, nose twitching, and face clouded.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

“Bunny?” your tired voice called out in the silence of the night.

The noise surprised Rumi. It had so quiet until then, and it had completely caught her off guard. Her! The Pro Hero with some of the best ears around! Who could hear the quietest things meters away!

“Are you okay?”

Rumi wasn’t okay.

“I pulled a kick today,” she whispered to you, her hands shifting into fists on her lap. She shook with rage, her body trembling like a leaf.

“Is that a… a bad thing?” you yawn, shifting on the bed and finding her body, relaxing at the heat she gives off.

“Yes.” Rumi snaps, her body stiffening against your touch. “Yes, it’s obviously a bad thing.”

“Why?”

Why?

Rumi’s eyes concentrate on her bruised thighs, her frown increasing. How could she tell you the truth? How could she say that you were her weakness?

For years she had been a headstrong hero, someone who didn’t think but reacted. She lived her life to the fullest every day, and she gave it her all every chance she got. It applied to her social life and her work life, especially her work life. She wasn’t one to laze about; she would die on the job if she had to, and her opponents always knew that, but lately, things had changed.

She found herself praying to some god about making sure she lived through these battles so she could go home to you. She prayed that someone else would find the Shinseina and bring them down so she wouldn’t be taken down. Being weak wasn’t a problem; after all, she was motherfucking Miruko, so she was used to building on her weaknesses, but this was different. No matter what she did, she couldn’t love you any less. Fuck, did she love you.

She loved the way your eyes narrowed whenever you interviewed people. She loved how you were quickly gaining traction in the media for being the best investigative journalist ever. She was so in love with you, and that’s where the problem was. Her love for you was so pure, so genuine, she wanted to give you the fairy tale ending. She tried to think before she acted, and villains were starting to notice.

Villains were threatening to hurt you, and Rumi was trapped.

“We need to break up.”

You weren’t expecting that, not in the slightest.

“W-What?”

“I don’t want to be with you anymore,” Rumi lies, and she feels you move away from her body, and it takes everything in her to not cry.

“Why not?” you ask, your voice steely smooth.

“You were access to the information I wanted. My office team is ass, and you were always getting your hands dirty with cases I needed to solve. But it seems that you’re nowhere near close to figuring out the last group I care about,” Rumi wills herself to say, her ears moving back up to show that she wasn’t lying. “I pretended for a year to be in love with you, but I can’t anymore.”

“Y-You’re not a great liar,” you state, challenging her false words.

Rumi loved it when you challenged her, but there was no time for that. So with a tight chest and flaring red eyes, she snapped around towards you, lips pulled into a snarl.

“Do you think I’m lying, y/l/n? I stuck around because you made me stronger, but now? You’re no better than the dirt on my shoes. Pathetic, useless, and a disgrace. I don’t need you anymore, so I’m cutting this off because I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Standing up, Rumi storms over to the door, ready to leave.

She wishes she could say that it ended there, but it didn’t. Not even close to being done.

You spat acid at her, and she returned it at the same toxicity. Over and over again, the two of you verbally battled. False emotions taking the better of you both until you were in her face, tears streaming down your face, fingers shaking in her face.

“You are a fucking coward, Usagiyama,” you sneer, the effect only dramatized by your red eyes and deep eye bags. “Get over your stupid fucking commitment issues, being apart of a team i-is not weak! I’m here to make you stronger, not for you to want to be a one-man squad again! You’ll die alone that way!”

“I know being apart of a team isn’t weak,” Rumi states, her heart long frozen over. “I just don’t want to be apart of yours anymore.”

A humorless laugh escapes your mouth, and you shake your head, “Don’t show your face here again, if I see you, I’ll call the cops.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

“— and Miruko, you’ll enter first. You’ll be alone for about five minutes if that’s okay.”

Rumi looked up, her mind freed from her daydream about what was happening.

It was two months since she had broken up with you, and things had only taken a turn for the worse. She threw herself into work. Overusing her quirk in ways that over-injured villains who were petty thieves, or underusing it in ways that she kept landing herself in the hospital. To put it simply, the rabbit hero was a mess.

“Yeah, got it,” she nodded.

Things with the Shinseina ended up being brought to the light finally by you. You had noticed a slight clue in your office that had been undetected and ended up having you thrown into the Witness Protection Program due to the severity of the secret. But still, you provided an updated and completed information:

‘Organization Name: Shinseina

Symbol: A Black Sun

Number of Members: 237 thugs and lower cult members, 57 leaders and mid cult members, 12 senior members of the cult, 1 leader.

Warnings: All have dangerous quirks that can be used for assassination.

Leaders: Hirano Naoko

Location of Base: HQ - Hiroshima. Other sites detailed in the secondary report.

Crimes: Quirk canceling drugs, quirk enhancing drugs, murder, gang affiliation, rape, robbery, theft, illegal quirk usage, money laundering, and 12 more.

Number of Heroes Killed: 84’

“Hey, you get one call on this, we don’t want them finding anything on us in case we fail,” the leader spoke to her. Miruko breathed in deeply, accepting the cellphone that was given to her.

“Got it, thank you,” she muttered, and with that, they headed out.

Five minutes, that’s all it was.

Five minutes for Miruko, the Rabbit Hero, was nothing. Especially when she was zipping through room to room, taking out cult member after cult member. Everything was a blur, and she could only see her streaming hair following her like moonbeams in her wake.

Moonbeams…

Rumi thought of you, your face when you were happy when you were sad, and that night you broke up. Her lip trembled when her foot connected with someone’s chin sending them flying. Panting harshly, she stood in a room full of unconscious cult members. She had three minutes before backup would storm through the door, but which door to—

“SHIT!”

She just felt the impact. An intense tingle, similar to a severe electric shock coursing through her body. Rumi realized then that thousands upon thousands of circuits have just been broken, and it was burning her up. The heat was nothing she could have ever imagined, festering strongly in her bleeding wound. But there was still no pain when her foot connected with the man’s throat, instantly knocking him out.

He had snuck up on her, his quirk concealing him even from her rabbit ears.

Rumi whimpered when she fell to the ground, blood pouring from her wound despite her best efforts. He had managed to land seven blows on her, and the world was darkening quickly.

Three more minutes until they came, but she could call them now…

When Rumi collapsed on the floor, her vision swam when she pulled out the phone, a warm and sticky puddle forming underneath her, staining everything that was white about her. Rumi’s fingers punching in the number she wanted to call.

Riiing.

“Pick up…”

Riiing.

“Don’t ignore this…”

Riiingggg.

“P-Please pick up,” Rumi mumbled into the phone, her head spinning, her breathing weak and faint. “Pick up the phone, y/n…”

Riiing.

“Please…”

Riiing.

Rii—

“Y/n,” Rumi finally whispered, the energy that always existed within her fading quickly.

“Why are you calling?” you said so emotionlessly that it was a sucker punch to Rumi’s stomach. A sharp reminder of what she did to you, of what had happened because she was weak.

A ragged breath escaped Rumi’s lips while she closed her eyes, her head laying against the cold concrete, listening to the lull of the line.

“I needed to hear your voice…”

“Do you even know what time it is?” you almost growl, and that fighting spirit sends a warm feeling in Rumi’s chest. “What in the fuck do you need?”

“It’s two a.m., I know that, but I need you right now,” Rumi staggers into the mic, your spirit bleeding through the call.

The line goes silent for a bit, and Rumi’s eyes feel heavier with every passing second. She wants to tell you she loves you, please give her the chance to say it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t go back to you anymore,” you curtly respond. “You made sure of that.”

How ironic, Rumi thought, because now she would never go back to you anymore… never…

“I know,” she hoarsely responds back, her mouth trembling and tears slowly pouring from her eyes. It hurt so much, how horrible it was to go out because of stab wounds. Of all ways to go out, she never expected it to be like this, nor did she expect it to be done with regret in her actions. Because fuck, she regretted how she ended it with you. She regretted letting you go. She thought of your face and how you looked the first time she admitted she loved you, of how dorky you were for your first anniversary. How your eyes glowed whenever you corned the people you were investigating with something that seemed straight from a story. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry, y/n…”

“Are… are you okay, Usagiyama?”

“I love you…” she whispered before the phone fell from her fingers, crashing onto the bloodied floor.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You stared at the phone, confused.

Frowning you placed it down, the call had ended, but why was she calling you?

How this stupid bunny pissed you off sometimes. Turning your phone back on, you went to recent calls and recalled the number she had reached you on.

Riiing.

“Sorry, but the number you’ve tried to call is no longer available, please try again. Thank you!”

Beep.

You frowned a pit forming in your stomach, but you put your phone away, and for some reason, you couldn’t fall back asleep that night.

It was eight in the morning when your phone blew up, and with a heavy hand, you grabbed your phone and looked at the billowing messages. And at the headliner, your stomach dropped to your toes, and bile climbed to your mouth.

‘RABBIT HERO: MIRUKO KILLED IN ACTION DURING Shinseina RAID!: It’s being reported that she was stabbed several times while alone, and while she was given a phone for backup, she used it on a call they cant trace.’

You couldn’t read it anymore, your heart hammering erratically while a blood-curdling scream escaped your mouth.

She was gone, she had called you last night to say goodbye, and you didn’t give her the time of day. She was gone, and you would never get the chance to convince her that having a life partner wasn’t weak.

Usagiyama Rumi was gone, and no amount of hoping, praying, or crying was going to bring her back to you or to redo that final phone call.

#miruko x reader #mirko x reader #usagiyama rumi x reader #bnha #bnha x reader

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silverbyuls · 3 years ago

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( lee hyeri, cis female, muse i ) oh snap! is that SHIN EUNBYUL they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE AVERAGE JOE. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( optimistic. ) but also pretty ( dishonest. ) they’re TWENTY TWO and they’ve been living in woodstock for TWENTY TWO YEARS. it must be their shift because i totally hear THE CRANBERRIES blasting from the record store. ( a little tikes piggy bank tucked under the bed, clothing label sticking out from the back, snap clips with varnish peeling off, jelly shoes with the strap taped together, leaving lisa frank stickers along record crates ) @volumeupdates

BIO

the luke hemsworth of the family but middle child

goes by byul

tried to go by ‘e.b.’ but her mum went berserk because she’d reduced her name to two letters for the ease of her yt friends and her brother bullied her for being e.t’s ugly sister so now she tries to go by silver star (her name translated into english) but it doesn’t quite stick

claims that her older sister and younger brother stole all her beauty, brain cells and height

family invested everything into older sister so she could go to college in new york: savings, loans, moved to smaller house which is even further from the town centre

brother requires all attention as he has high hopes of getting into college on a baseball scholarship and she lowkey can’t wait until he’s far away from woodstock

her grades have always been average so no one expects her to leave – her parents talk about how nice it is that she’ll be with them forever but she knows that’s because they want her to take care of them when they’re old … which she would! if they didn’t live in woodstock

she tells them she’s going to move to california, but they think she’s as serious about that as she is about wanting to go to college, or becoming supermodel of the world, or an olympic swimmer, when she has average grades, of average height, and can’t even swim

if her life was a movie, she’d have fallen asleep in the first ten minutes – it has always been so boring and uneventful, so she lives up in her head with her fake scenarios to keep things interesting – most of the time, they’re taken straight from a book or magazine

sometimes these thoughts spill over into reality because she can’t fathom the idea of people realising she’s as plain as she is, and her little white lies give her a bit of sparkle to stand out (in her opinion)

but she will get to california!

she even has a plan:

she’s been working at freddy’s diner since she was fifteen, escaping to high volume whenever she can, a place where she can pop her headphones on during her breaks and pretend she’s getting ogled at on venice beach, but she’s terrible at saving so seven years later she’s still grinding

once she graduates high school, she has enough time for a second job and she’d dropped enough hints in front of jerry for him to kindly offer her a job. after all, she spends as much time in high volume as she does at freddy’s so there’s not much of a difference once she becomes an employee -- still floating around the place, sipping on her coke can, either people watching or people chasing -- except now she has access to the register

after a big argument with her parents, she ended up moving out into a place in the middle of town. that was never part of the plan because saving was easier when she lived at home. she’ll say things got really bad but really, she was just getting closer to her target and she wanted a valid reason to put it off for a bit longer

she was only supposed to do it once – stealing from the cash register. it was just right there, no one was around, and she thought it was going to be her last shift because jerry was angry at her for being late again (granted, he hadn’t actually been mad, but it was one of those days when everything felt personal)

besides, she’d overheard a group of girls she’d idolised in school talk about how they stole some underwear and they made it sound so cool

she felt like everyone could hear her heart thumping against her chest as she walked out of the store but the day after, no one said anything about it, no one even noticed, and she wasn’t fired. so she did it again, and again, and again, and eventually she didn’t even bat an eyelid

the extra money was supposed to help her reach her goal faster but, again, she’s terrible at saving and her parents are so hardworking, she can’t help but feel guilty and buy nice things for them every once in a while and when they ask where she got the money from, she lies and says jerry gave her a bonus for being a good employee

on the other hand, if they’ve had an argument, or they’ve forgotten about her again, she’ll have a full on les-mis-i-dreamed-a-dream episode then splurge out on a cute jacket because it’s hers and it’s new! rather than worn out hand-me-downs from her sister or brother!

started her own side hustle called the separation agency – inspired after a customer at high volume asked her to help him break up with his boyfriend. so she’s the messenger for people who have things to say but don’t have the balls to say it to someone’s face themselves. usually they’re horrible messages, like break ups. she’s had like three customers and tries to promote her side hustle whilst on her shift at high volume

she thinks her “business” could actually thrive in a bigger city which is just another reason why she needs to get out of woodstock – it’s holding her back!

anyway, jerry’s missing, which is perfect for her because she gets to come in late and not get told off, and maybe steal a little more than she usually does

PERSONALITY:

when she’s around people, she seems like an extrovert: bubbly, talkative, dramatic ... which uses up a lot of her energy and her social battery is weak, so needs her own space often, and likes doing nothing by herself so sometimes she’ll lie to get out of plans or bail last minute

she has big dreams, and talks about all her big plans, but has leaving anxiety which is why she’s shit at saving and makes up excuses as to why she can’t leave just yet

has main character syndrome -- likes to live her life as a romcom, most of her lies revolve around her love life because she wants to be seen as desirable, but also will overanalyse everything

sensitive, passionate, immature, sympathetic, fickle, clumsy, dramatic, caring, head in clouds

will pretend to knows things to fit in like ~hipster~ bands or anything really, depends on the crowd

could gladly spend all day talking to customers at work then the next day she’ll prefer to day dream in the storage room

rides a bike to and from work and almost everywhere else too -- the only one out of her siblings who had to bike to school because small car and siblings took up all the space -- she’s had the same bike since high school

loves spice girls but feels like she’ll be judged so keeps quiet and plays it when she’s closing

honestly could hate you one day and have a crush on you the next but you wouldn’t even know it -- a vicious cycle

collects stickers and leaves them everywhere and on everyone - often passive aggressive through them, basically uses them like emojis

will try to order food and get others to pay for it - especially kfc, never gets to eat the drumsticks at home so will honestly cry if people steal the drumsticks from her

buys lottery tickets and scratch cards because she has a 50/50 chance of winning

WANTED CONNECTIONS: (current connections)

start up: stolen str8 from a kdrama that ruined my life hehe her parents set her up with a pen pal to keep her busy out of guilt because they’re so busy with her siblings and work and obviously she romanticises it !!! her parents would’ve asked to lie a little bit, just so she’d be writing to someone she’d easily obsess over -- love island vc: someone who ticks all the boxes

xoxo gossip girl: someone who loves a good gossip sesh -- they probably send 👀 at each other across the store when things feel a bit tense, which is code for ‘meet me in the storage room’ so they can chat away for the rest of their shift

lunch stealer: she makes her own lunch every day and is extremely protective over it but one day it went missing and she knows it was them (maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t) so now they are her sworn enemy

sister’s/brother’s friend: therefore an automatic enemy

shut up: someone who just tells her to shut up because she chats so much shit and she’s insane - just sandra x dina vibes from superstore (x)

carpool karaoke: she hates cycling in when it’s raining, so either she’s trying to get them to be her designated driver or has already succeeded and is annoying about it

crush #1: someone she has a crush on (more of an infatuation) and they’re not interested in her in the slightest but in her head they’re giving her mixed signals and she has made up a fake boyfriend to try to make them jealous

crush #2: someone she thinks has a crush on her. either because they’re nice or tease her or just mean, it doesn’t matter, she’s insane so she’ll interpret it however she wants

ex: they never broke up, or even dated, but she thinks something almost happened between them and she thinks she cut things off by giving them space

separation agency: someone who once used the agency either out of the kindness of their heart or for a different reason entirely and now she won’t stop pestering them to try and get them to use it again

no thots just vibes: i just like this gifset tbh (x) and we can brainstorm !

#volumeintro #*releases into the wild*

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nct-lian · 4 years ago

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her style (seven categories)

— daily wear (casual wear)

lian’s entire wardrobe is the definition of ulzzang fashion. she loves loves loves the korean style !! lian can get cold really easily, and so she tries to incorporate some sort of long sleeve into all her outfits.

it works out perfectly as well because when i tell you she’s obsessed with cardigans and jeans- lian owns SO MANY JEANS like half her closet is just jeans and it’s scary :0

she doesn’t normally gravitate towards layering clothing, but i promise that when she does, it looks so so good.

she has no problem layering a simple sweater vest or putting on a thick sweater over something thin, but she’s expressed how she finds it to be uncomfortable if she layers a bunch of thick clothing on top of each other.

lian also really loves skirts !! her legs have never really been the target of cold weather, so wearing skirts in the fall (or even winter at times) has thankfully never been a problem for her. she particularly loves mini skirts with a solid colour or a plaid design.

her colour scheme consists of neutral colours, black and whites and occasional pops of pastel!

— formal wear (meetings, company dinners, etc.)

there’s a rule in sm that states: the idols aren’t to wear anything denim or “lazy looking” while attending important events within the company or meeting new people in public because it’ll set a good first impression.

lian makes sure not to go overboard when dressing formally, but she’d get scolded if she were to underdress. and so that leaves her with a limited amount of options when choosing what to wear.

she tends to go with the simple blouse paired with a mini skirt, or if she doesn’t have the energy to try, she’ll throw on a pair of trousers with a solid coloured top and call it a day.

whereas if she were to be attending a company gathering with her seniors, she’ll wear a pretty dress or expand her “blouse + mini skirt” outfit into something a little more extravagant!

again, her formal colour scheme sticks to a neutral palette with black and whites. it’s rare to see any sort of colour if she hadn’t decided to wear something plaid.

— comfy wear (lounging, hanging out at home, etc.)

as much as lian wishes she could just stay in her pyjamas all day long when they’re off schedules, she knows that’ll do her no good. forcing herself to get up every morning and change also gives her the motivation to brush her teeth and wash her face like she needs to.

that being said, if she has to change so early in the morning, then she’s sticking with something incredibly comfortable.

tons of oversized shirts and baggy pants—the shirts normally belonging to the boys. no joke, johnny has lost over fifteen sweaters to lian, and they’re definitely not going back to him.

like his shirts basically go all the way down to her knees and so there’s no need for pants to keep her legs warm. a random pair of shorts and she’s good to go!

all of her comfy clothes are super soft and fluffy and perfect for sitting around to do nothing! she practically swims in all of these clothing items, but that’s part of the fun :D

she doesn’t really care about the colour, but she does have to match the pants with the shirt because if she doesn’t, then that’s just wrong, guys.

— sleep wear (pyjamas)

the fifth floor’s heating system has been broken for like the past three months and nobody has fixed it yet, so the dorm is constantly cold.

but lian does this thing where she freezes herself before she goes to bed because “it’ll feel nice when i sleep.”

the boys always tell her to go put on a sweater or change into a longer pair of pants because her sleep wear is literally the thinnest material ever—and not to mention, she’s wearing short sleeves most of the time!

lian seriously despises going to sleep in long pants because they make her overheat and it’s all uncomfortable when she’s under her thick ass duvet, so her pyjamas are normally short.

again, lian doesn’t really care about the colour because they normally come in sets and everything matches anyway. she definitely prefers to have a thin and soft material!

— award show wear (first row: while performing, second row: red carpets)

okay say it with me: LIAN PRETTIEST GIRL !! the stylists absolutely love love love lian, and they make sure to show it when putting her outfits together. whenever lian is performing on stage, she’s always decked out in a glitter filled outfit so that she shines even brighter than she already does—especially if she’s with the boys.

it’s no secret that lian is rather ... vertically challenged, and the stylists want to make sure she’s not completely enveloped into them to the point where she can’t be seen. they make sure her outfits a little more sparkly so she’s able to be seen well, but they always have to match with what the rest of of them are wearing.

if she doesn’t match, she’ll looks like a random girl just following them everywhere they go, and that’s something nobody wants!

while walking the red carpet, lian literally looks a million dollars. all her outfits are personally made just for her so they fit perfectly! unless it comes from a designer brand, of course.

she’s obviously had a little bit of malfunctions because the “too short for their body type dress” has happened once or twice despite having all her outfits custom made. make that make sense tbh ??

the colour scheme is super colourful and diverse! like stated before, the stylists love to have her stand out and shine, so they love to take risks while creating her outfits :)

— jewelry (necklaces, rings, earrings, etc.)

lian loves her jewelry! she’s always seen wearing pretty necklaces, shiny bracelets and gorgeous, dangly earrings :) but she has a very strong love-hate relationship with rings.

there are only certain rings she’s able to wear because bulky and chunky ones make her very uncomfortable. she leans more towards the dainty and thin style.

for earrings, she really goes all out with them. her earrings are always dangly and shiny, and super extravagant! she has a lot of piercings as well so she’s able to wear several earrings at a time.

her necklace preference is fairly basic; just the simple dainty chain with a diamond on the end or a trail of pearls.

— head wear (hats, headbands, hair clips, etc.)

lian honestly doesn’t care for hats that much. she prefers having her hair flow nicely with a couple of hair pins to keep it in place, but it’s necessary to have a hat on while dancing because her hair will go EVERYWHERE everywhere if it’s not secured in some way.

she only likes bucket hats and baseball caps because she believes that the other ones are ugly. no offence to beanie wearers, it’s just not her style!

headbands aren’t something she’s too into either, she’ll only wear them if she believes that it’ll go well with her outfit. she’ll also wear them if she has to keep the front pieces of hair out of her face for the day.

lian’s hair clips are like her children. she’s always wearing some sort of pin and they’re literally so beautiful and match her outfits so well!

not only does lian absolutely love the way her hair clips look on herself, but she likes how the boys look with them in their hair as well. when yuta still had his long hair, she would constantly be styling it for him.

he would be adorned in golden bobby pins and sparkly clips basically 24/7 :D

majority of lian’s clothing sticks to a neutral colour palette, so she buys hair accessories that match well!

#lian: get to know her!#nct addition #nct female member #kim chungha #nct 127 #nct #nct dream #wayv #lianna bae #nct 127 added member #nct 127 female member #nct dream female member #nct dream added member #nct 22nd member #nct 24th member

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ssajj · 4 years ago

Text

Believer

Your dogs fall in love first.

2.2k

TW for mentions of a minor injury

The week after you move into your new place, you find a good dog park to take Bloom to. She's been barking like a mad woman, letting you know that she's done trying to watch you unpack your stuff. She wants out.

"Okay, girl!" You laugh, gently pushing her down. You made the mistake of taking her leash out in front of her, so now there's no turning back. You clip it to her collar, scratching behind her ears as her tail thumps on the ground. "Let’s go find that dog park, huh?

The walk doesn't take long. Bloom is kind of terrible on leashes though, so you're pretty sure she's walked a couple more miles than you have because of how much she's weaving around. You're still hoping that she'll settle down a bit as she gets over, even if her energy and spirit never fail to make you smile. It sounds cliche and maybe a little dumb, but you really don't know what you'd do without her.

Once you get to the park, you take her leash off, nudging her gently so that she'll run off. She bounds off, running to the biggest group of dogs. They welcome her gladly, all sniffing each other's butts. You scoff and find a bench to settle down on, pulling out the paperback you brought with you. It's easy to relax here, even if the dogs are loud and it smells a little strange. Bloom is happy, you're happy, and the sun is shining.

You start taking her every weekend. There are certain dogs she seems to get along with more, other regulars. Soon, you start matching dogs to people. One in particular stands out. He's absolutely gorgeous and you're pretty sure the dog that's obsessed with Bloom belongs to him, not that you've worked up the courage to go talk to him. You don't even know what you'd say.

Of course, that changes the day said dog decides to tackle you to the ground.

It's an accident. You know it is. The dog tries to go for Bloom, but a slip means she slams full force into you.

"Oh," you groan, putting your hands above your head. Both dogs are trying to kick your face.

"Roxy!" You hear a man shout. Before you know it, the dogs are replaced by the cute man you've been eyeing. "Are you okay?"

You nod, shifting your weight in an attempt to stand up. The man offers a hand, which you take gratefully. "Strong dog."

He laughs a little, but you can see concern on his face. "Yeah, Roxy's a tough girl. Are you sure you're okay? You went down pretty hard."

"I'm fine, promise," you laugh, running your hand through your hair. Bloom's pressed close to you, nosing at your leg. You scratch behind her ear. "I'm okay, girlie."

"What's her name?"

"Bloom."

The man smiles. "This is Roxy."

"Hi, Roxy!" You pet her, leaning down to let her lick your face. "Please don't try to murder me again."

Before you can ask the man's name, his phone starts blaring. You've never heard a ringtone so loud, noting that a few other people looking over as he answers his phone. His face closes off as he answers. To you, he seems like a completely different guy in less than a second.

"Okay, I'll be there ASAP," he says, hanging up. "Sorry," he looks back at you. "I have to run. Work. C'mon, girl."

And with that, the mysterious cute guy is gone.

You go back to petting Bloom. "I'm turning into an old spinster," you whisper to her like you were sharing a big secret. She just licks your face.

You don't see Roxy or her owner for almost two weeks. When they show back up, the man looks beyond exhausted, settling down on a bench and folding his legs under himself. In a moment of boldness, you go up to him.

"Is it okay if I sit here?" You gesture to Bloom and Roxy, who have already found each other. "I should probably get to know you. Looks like our dogs are dating."

He startles, making a wave of guilt rush through you. You're a little reassured by the way his face brightens when he looks at you. "Of course."

"I didn't get your name last time."

"Oh! I'm Luke. You?"

"Y/N," you tell him, settling down on the bench. The two of you watch your dogs run around together. "Roxy seems like a sweetheart."

There's not a single person on planet earth that doesn't love it when you compliment their dog. Luke isn't any kind of exception. "She is! I'm glad you're not holding it against her that she slammed into you."

You shrug. "She saw Bloom and got excited. Happens. God knows Bloom has taken me out on more than one occasion."

"Roxy loves her. She isn't usually the most social dog on the planet, you know? Like father like daughter."

"You're both being pretty social right now," you point out, making him laugh.

"You got me there. Maybe you two are just special."

A blush spreads across your face. It's stupid, but you can't really help it. "Bloom is definitely special. Is it lame if my dog is my best friend?"

Luke shakes his head. "Nah Roxy's my best friend. Got her after I was discharged."

"Military?"

"I served in Iraq, yeah."

You whistle. "Damn."

Unexpectedly, his response makes you snort. Your brow furrows. "What?"

"People usually thank me for my service. I don't think I've heard "damn" before."

"Oh!" You feel like a bit of an idiot. "Oh, was that like, super insensitive of me?"

"It's kind of refreshing, honestly," he shrugs. "Maybe don't go around saying that to everyone who served, though."

"Noted."

Luke and Roxy disappear again. It's probably not a big deal, and you're definitely dramatic for worrying. It isn't like you know his schedule, so you don't actually know how much he goes to the park. You don't know anything about what he does outside of taking his dog here, either. Bloom always seems a little sad when Roxy's not around to play with.

"Your girlfriend isn't here, huh?" You ask Bloom, letting her rest her head against your leg. She's getting tired, making you gather your stuff up to head back home.

As you stand up, you hear a voice calling your name. Bloom goes sprinting off, suddenly getting a bunch of energy. You look over and make eye contact with Luke, who's walking towards you.

"Hey!" You greet him. "Haven't seen you in a few days."

"Work." He looks between you and the bench you just vacated, his face doing something you can't quite place. "Are you leaving?"

"Bloom seemed sleepy, but I think Roxy showing up changed that."

The two of you settle down. "I don't even know what your job is."

Luke grimaces. "Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI."

You can feel your eyes widen. "Holy shit."

At least that makes him laugh.

"You hunt serial killers, then? Sounds super safe and not at all time consuming."

You end up talking for a long time. It isn't until Bloom and Roxy come back to you that you notice the sun is starting to set. Luke looks just as startles as you.

As you pack up your things, you feel a gentle hand land on your arm. "Hey," Luke says softly. "Is it okay if I ask for your number?"

You grin.

Insomnia hits you hard a week later. It's been over two days since you've slept for more than an hour at a time. Bloom keeps whining, obviously aware that you weren't acting right. She settles down on the bed next to you, her head resting on your chest.

"Sorry we can't go anywhere, sweetie," you whisper as you pet her. "I can barely even function enough to go to work."

She licks your face.

As you're staring at the ceiling for the millionth hour, your phone starts vibrating on the table next to you.

"Hello?" You answer without looking at the screen.

"Y/N?"

Oh shit. "Luke?"

He sounds nervous. "I hope it's okay that I'm calling. You just- Roxy misses Bloom."

"Too tired."

"What?"

You belatedly realize that you should probably try making sense. "Sorry. Insomnia is really bad. Too tired for the park."

"Aw, Y/N. Is there anything I can do to help?"

You shake your head no before actually saying the word into the phone.

Bloom is ecstatic the next time you take her to the park. She drags you through the fence and you practically have to tackle her to get her leash off.

"I would have offered to help, but you looked kind of cute." You look up to see a smiling Luke. He grabs your hand to help you straighten up. "You're a little dusty now."

You snort, brushing off your shirt. "I guess you were just here for moral support, then?"

He nods. His face sobers a bit, ducking his head so he can look you in the eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine."

"Come on. You sure?"

"Yeah. I got a full ten hours of sleep last night," you say, resisting the urge to wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. You don’t know what's wrong with you. Before, you figured that as you got to know Luke, you'd lose interest. It's what usually happened when you started talking to a guy. You weren't sick of Luke, though. Actually, your heart was racing.

His smile comes back. "Good! Roxy and I missed you guys."

You're asleep when the phone rings. "What the hell?" You ask, groggy. "It's like, 3am. The devil’s hour."

Whoever is on the other end pauses, the breaks out into laughter. It's a woman. "You didn't say she was funny!"

There's a rustle on the other end of the line, and you think you can hear the woman swear. "She has insomnia!" You can hear someone talking faintly in the background. Even if your brain is fuzzy, you can recognize Luke's voice. "You can't call her so late! Or at all!" Another pause, then his voice is louder. "Y/N, I'm so sorry about that."

"What's happening right now?"

"The team is out drinking. Garcia thought it'd be funny to grab my phone. No clue how she got my password."

"Why'd she call me?"

Luke sputters. You wish you could see his face. "I've just talked about you. And Bloom! They know Roxy made a friend."

More yelling in the background. The line disconnects shortly after, making you snort.

You just go back to sleep.

His face is bright red the next time you see him. Just like always, Bloom and Roxy go off on their own. You slide up next to Luke.

"So," you start. "Were you hungover on Saturday?"

He groans.

"You're limping!" You cry, running toward Luke and putting your hands on his shoulders. Roxy's at his side, so you unclip her before moving back to Luke. "What happened?"

"Hey, hey," he tries to soothe you, because he is a ridiculous man who is trying to comfort someone while he's injured. "It's just my leg."

"Sit down!"

You walk with him over to the nearest table, holding his hand as he gets himself situated.

He doesn't let go of your hand like you thought he would. Instead, he squeezes it. "I got grazed. It'll be sore as hell for a few days, but I promise I'll be as good as new." He reaches forward with his free hand to brush the hair from your face. Your heart freezes, but he doesn't seem to notice. He just looks soft. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Not forgiven," you grumble.

After you've known Luke for a couple months, you decide to start walking Bloom and Roxy together.

"I think they're in love," you tell Luke, watching Roxy as she kisses Bloom. "I'll start getting ready for their wedding."

Luke snorts. "This is definitely the most attached Roxy's ever gotten to another dog."

"Same with Bloom."

It's nice, walking around with Luke. He's sweet, he's funny, and you can tell that he cares about you, even though you don't know if it's platonic or romantic. Either way, you know how you feel about him. It's almost enough to scare you off, but you've planted your feet in the ground next to him. You aren't going anywhere.

"I don't really connect with people, either," Luke says suddenly, looking over at you. "So I'm glad that you met you, Y/N."

You feel warmth spread over you. "Oh. Thank you. You're not too bad, you know." You knock your shoulder against him, smiling when you manage to make him stumble. Luke is a sturdy guy. Huge muscles. You wonder how easily he could lift you, how easily he could envelop you. "How's your leg, by the way?"

"Good!" He nods. "It's all better by now."

Once the walk is over, you agree to his suggestion to do it next week, as long as Luke isn't on a case.

"Should I ask him out?" You ask Bloom, who wags her tail in response. "Is that a yes? I don't speak dog. You're not being super helpful."

She just stares at you.

Before you can ask Luke out, he asks you out while you're walking the dogs.

"Hey, Y/N." You note that he sounds nervous, his usual demenor gone. "I have something I want to ask you."

"Yeah?"

After a moment of hesitation, he continues. "Do you want to go on a date with him?"

You smile widely enough to break your face. "I'd love to."

#luke alvez #luke alvez x y/n #luke alvez x reader #reader x Luke alvez #luke alvez insert #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #dorothywrites

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years ago

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone -Chapter 26

Title: Preparations

Warning: it’s filler. I figured we needed some cute daddy Tyler. lol

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip

“When you met mumma, you guys were working together, right?”

Addie poses the question as she sits atop the kitchen island; legs swinging back and forth as they dangle over the edge, the heels of silver and gold glitter infused jelly sandals lightly thumping against the wood. She insisted on bringing one of her favourite pairs of shoes from home; arguing that she didn’t care that they were ‘out of season’ and that she would wear what she wants, when she wants, and no one could tell her otherwise. In the end they’d gone perfectly with the new ‘Christmas’ dress she’d picked out Bloomingdales; a vibrant yellow concoction with capped sleeves embellished with strips of lace, a sash around the waist that ties in an enormous bow at the back, and an elaborate tulle skirt several layers thick that shimmers in the light. Forgoing all the burgundy, emerald green, and red dresses that had lined the regular priced racks in favour of an outfit from the leftover and highly discounted summer section. It was a hill Esme hadn't been willing to die on; preferring that Addie showcase both her independence in choosing her own outfit, and being proud of her personal style and preferences. And it suits her; as bright and adorable as her personality with just enough ‘no fucks given’ sprinkled on for good measure.

While tiny and seemingly fragile, she can be extremely assertive and adverse to any form of compromise; tenacious to a fault and digging her heels in and sticking to her guns when she feels she’s one hundred right about her stance. Even if there’s mountains of proof to show that she is, in fact, completely wrong. Someone so stubborn and feisty lingering inside that cute, wee package; able to hold her own while out playing with her older siblings and not afraid to get a bloody nose or a fat lip or a black eye. And not deterred in the slightest when she DOES get injured; right back to what she was doing only hours after getting stitches or a cast removed. Not shying away from climbing trees or splashing in mud puddles or helping muck out the goats stalls while wearing clunky rubber boots paired with a Disney princess dress. Very much like her older sister had been at that age; enjoying being physical and active and playing sports and rough housing one minute, then showcasing her more ‘girly side’ the next. Loving trips to the salon with mummy for manis and pedis; enjoying picking her own shade of polish and then getting to sip orange juice from a champagne glass while getting a facial and her hair trimmed. Collecting dolls along with various rocks and shells and beach glass. Superhero figures taking up residence on her bedroom shelves right alongside stuffies of her favourite animals -koalas, sloths, and kangaroos currently at the top of the list- and snow globes from different parts of the world. Her closet filled with not only frilly dresses and sparkly leggings and colourful sweaters emblazoned with unicorns and french bulldogs and flamingos, but old hand me downs from her brothers; ripped and faded jeans and tattered t-shirts and board shorts.

“Right,” Tyler confirms, as he tends to running a brush through her waist length hair; damp from misting it down with a spray bottle in order to easier part it into sections.

It’s a far cry from his old life; his beaten and busted up hands with their multitude of scars and calluses once used to being soaked in blood and caked with dirt. Large and weathered with misshapen knuckles, they’d long ago gotten accustomed to hard, manual labour and the brutality that he’d had to inflict on others; fists that pummelled bodies and faces and fingers that pulled triggers and wrapped around throats and choked the life out of combatants. And while they still get caked in mud from working around the house and they’re still entrusted to load magazines and are capable of taking a gun apart in thirteen seconds flat, they’ve morphed into other uses. Beginning with diapering babies and tending to the impossibly tiny snaps on jumpers, buttons on little sweaters, and zippers on sleepers. Moving on to tying kid sized shoe laces and cleaning and patching up skinned knees and elbows. Advancing to far more difficult hair styling techniques than the simple ponytails he’d began affixing on Millie when she was a toddler; various styles of braids adorned with ribbons, and snapping barrettes and clamping clips into place.

Being a girl dad is unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. The six short years -despite the little time he’d actually been home- he’d spent with Austin had prepared him for raising boys. His son, when healthy, had been extremely active and fearless and full of curiosity and energy; getting as messy and as dirty as possible and loving every second of it. Obsessed with superheroes and sports and always clad in clothing that displayed his favourites; football jerseys and baseball caps and sweats emblazoned with Superman or Batman logos. He had been terrified twelve years ago when the news had come in that Millie was in fact going to be a girl; not only envisioning frilly dresses and a closet full of pink and those ridiculous headbands parents insist on putting on their infants, but thinking back to his own treatment of women. The days when he’d used them for nothing more than sex; random strangers picked up in bars or that he’d meet on the street in whatever city a job sent him to. A failed marriage; putting more of a priority on the military than he did on treating his wife properly. And all he could think about was how having a daughter was somehow a punishment for the bad shit he’d done. A little girl that he’d have to protect from guys like him.

It was hard to get used to; big fingers having to master putting in tiny earrings and tending to impossibly small zippers and buttons , getting comfortable with the amount of pink and purple in their rooms and closets. Eventually graduating into attending tea parties and playing with Barbies and helping make crafts; getting used to paint on his palms and between his fingers and glitter stuck under his nails and in his hair and beard. Determined to be a hands-on father even if its activities are way outside of his comfort zone; gymnastic meets and dance recitals as opposed to lacrosse matches and football games. Being a girl dad isn’t for the weak; having to worry about your little girls’ hearts being broken and if the guys they pick will treat them right and if they themselves will make smart and responsible choices as teenagers. And the hormones; the up and down emotions and the drastic switch from bitchy to overly sensitive. Having a wife go through it once a month is enough. never mind the thought of three other girls. The worry of how he’ll handle not only the emergence of puberty, but if all four female ‘clocks’ decide to sync up. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle THAT; all the women in his life going through the cramps and the moodiness and the demands to be coddled and babied one minute and left the fuck alone the next.

“Does that mean mummy beat up and killed bad guys too?”

“No. She never did any of that stuff. That was my job, not hers.”

“What did she do?”

“She tracked down the bad guys. And where they were doing mean things to good people. Then she told me...or guys like me...where they were so we could go and take care of things.”

“So you could go and kill them?”

“You don’t always have to kill people. Sometimes it’s enough to just rough them up a bit.”

“And other times they fight back and try to hurt you and you have to hurt them first?”

“Pretty much.”

“Have you killed a lot of people?”

“Not that many," he lies. It's actually a staggering amount; the death toll -from his hand alone- in Dhaka putting the count well over three hundred.

“How many is ‘not that many'?’”

“I don’t know, Peanut. I’ve never kept track.”

“But you’ve helped more people than you’ve hurt. That’s what mummy said when I asked if it was true. If Tyler was lying when he told me you kill people for a living.”

“That’s a while ago. That you asked mummy that.”

“I was three. That’s a whole two years ago. But sometimes I think about it. Especially when you go away. I think about you having to kill people.”

“And what do you think WHEN you think about that? About what I sometimes have to do?”

“I dunno know,” Addie shrugs, and then lifts the spray bottle clutched in both hands and holds it towards her face; giggling when she pulls the trigger and catches some of the mist in her mouth.

“Does it bother you? When you think about it? That I’ve killed people? That sometimes I still have to?”

“Why would it bother me?”

“Kind of a hard thing to hear, don’t you think? That daddy has to do stuff like that?”

“It’s your job. It’s what you do. You have to hurt people to save other people. And sometimes, if they try and hurt you first, you have to kill them. Because if you didn’t, they might kill you and then you never come home and we never get to see you again. It’s not THAT hard to hear. I’d rather you kill someone and come home than never see you again.”

“You know,” he plucks the spray bottle from her hands and dampens a section of hair. “You’re pretty smart for only five.”

“Smart like mummy.”

He leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Cute like her too.”

“Are you going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Who would I get in trouble with?”

“God. Isn’t that one of the things we’re not supposed to do? Kill people?”

“How do you know about that? We don’t talk about that stuff at home.”

“I hear things. At school. Some of the older kids talking. Are you? Going to get in trouble? For killing people?”

“Probably,” he admits. “I’m sure I’ll face some kind of judgement for it. When my time comes.”

“But wouldn’t it be okay ‘cause you only kill bad people? That were hurting good people? Wouldn’t that be allowed? And if you had to kill someone so you could come home to us, wouldn’t that be okay too?”

“I don’t know,” he snags a yellow cloth ribbon off the island and begins braiding a section of hair around it. “I’ve never thought that far ahead about things.”

“It would suck if you got in trouble for helping people. That wouldn’t be fair at all. If you got sent to hell for doing stuff like that. I mean, you were doing something GOOD. You weren’t doing something bad. You HAD to kill evil people to help good people. And to make sure you come home to mummy and us kids. I can’t see you getting in trouble for something like THAT.”

“Doesn’t make much sense to me either. But not a lot does anymore.”

“I’ll be really mad if you get in trouble and sent somewhere different than me. I don’t want us to be in two separate places. I want us to be together. All of us. You and mummy and all us kids. I don’t want us to all be separated. Well, maybe Millie could be. Because she’s mean to me. All the time.”

“Millie is going through some stuff. She’s going to be a teenager soon. A lot of drama leading up to THAT.”

“She says I’m annoying. That she used to really like me when I was a baby and couldn’t do anything. But now I can do lots of stuff and I can talk and she says that pisses her off. That I’m a bratty little sister.”

“You are NOT bratty.”

“Right? That’s what I said. She’s bratty if anything. Am I annoying, daddy? Don’t lie. You can tell me the truth.”

“You are not annoying. If anyone is annoying, it’s Millie.”

“I said THAT too! But she’s mean. She even threatened to cut my hair off. Shave it. Because I couldn’t find my brush and I borrowed hers and she didn’t like that. So you know what I did? While you were gone?”

“What did you do?”

“I took the tops off two Oreo cookies and I ate the middle and then I put in mayonnaise and I put the tops back on and gave them to Millie. I told her I was being a good little sister and bringing her a snack. And she put a whole one in her mouth! She almost puked!”

He can’t help but chuckle. “You actually did that?”

“Yup. It was awesome. I laughed so hard, I almost peed! But then she started chasing me around the house threatening to kill me. Mummy was screaming at her to lighten up, that it was just a joke. And then she told mummy to shut up and Tyler got mad. REALLY mad. He tackled Millie and grabbed her by the hair and pushed her face into the carpet. Then he put her in a figure four leg lock and made her cry.”

“Millie told your mom to shut up?”

“Oooops…” Addie tilts her head back to look at him, a sheepish smile curving her lips. “....I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part.”

“Who told you not to tell me? Millie?”

The five year old shakes her head.

“TJ?”

Another shake, followed by a tiny “No.”

“Addie…”

“It was mummy! She said not to tell you because you’d get pissed off and you didn’t need to. Because she took care of it right when it happened. Well, Tyler did. He was really, really, REALLY mad. She learned her lesson. I’m sure of it. He made her cry. Lots.”

“Did that happen a lot? Millie getting mouthy with your mom?”

“Not really.”

He stares pointedly down at her.

“A few times,” she reluctantly admits. “She said some things that were really mean. To mummy. And she said the F word once, too. Mixed with the B word.”

“She said that ? To your mom?”

Addie chews nervously on her bottom lip. “Yeah, she called her an f-ing B word.”

“What did mummy do?”

“She didn’t get a chance to do anything. Desi freaked out. And he’s really big and he can be really scary when he wants. Like you. Desi told her that she should never, ever talk to her mum like that. And that you’d be really mad if you found out. And that she’d rather deal with him than you. Which is true. Desi might be bigger than you, but you’re definitely tougher. I mean, he doesn’t kill people for a living. You do.”

“Things were pretty bad, huh? While I was gone.”

“A little. Millie went off the reservation. Big time. She’s lucky she’s even breathing. ‘Cause Tyler was ready to kill her. And I don’t blame him. You’re mad, aren’t you. Are you mad, daddy?”

“A bit.”

“You know how I can tell? That you’re mad? Your neck moves. Right here,” she reaches up to press to fingertips against the side of his throat. “Where the bad guy shot you a long time ago.”

“How did you know about that?”

“Mummy told me. I asked her how you got that scar. She said that a long time ago, her and Ovi were in trouble and you had to get them out of a really bad place. And then you made sure they were safe and sound, but a bad guy shot you. In the neck. And that’s why you have the scar there.”

“Did that scare you? Hearing that?”

“A little, I guess. I mean, you could have died, right?”

“I could have, yeah.”

“And then you and mummy never would have gotten married. And had kids. Millie would be the only one to exist. None of us would. So yeah, that part scared me a bit; that the bad guy could have killed and none of us ever would have been born. Did you kill him?”

“Eventually.”

“Mummy said she stayed with you. After it happened. And that she went back to Australia with you and that’s how she ended up there. It’s where you guys got married. And had Millie and me and Kota and Brookie. That we were the ones born there. So we’re REAL Australians, like you. Everyone else is American.”

“Everyone else WAS American. You’re all Australian now.”

“How does that work?”

“A lot of papers you have to fill out. To become a citizen. But you all are. Mummy and I made sure of it.”

“Is mummy an Australian too?”

“By marriage, yeah.”

“It’s a good thing she married you. You’re a lucky guy, daddy. That someone like mummy fell in love with you.”

“I am,” he confirms. “Very lucky. She’s a pretty good mummy, huh?”

“She’s the best mummy EVER. If we could pick our mummies, I’d pick her. Because she’s nice and she gives good cuddles and kisses and she tells the best silly jokes. And she’s super smart and really cute too. And little! Like me!”

“That’s where you get from. Being so cute and wee. You’re just like your mumma.”

Her eyes sparkle as she smiles broadly up at him; the corners and the bridge of her nose crinkle. “And that’s a good thing, yeah?”

“A very good thing,” Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he brushes the tip of his nose against hers; smiling at the way she throws her head back and giggles.

He’s seen her mother do that exact movement and expression a number of times; excitement while on the rides at Disney World with the kids, when she’s had one too many glasses of wine and even his terrible ‘dad jokes’ are suddenly hilarious, when they’ve been on one of their ‘mommy and daddy’ vacations and she’s gotten up the guts to try something new and exciting; emboldened by his encouragement and forever feeling safe and secure as long as he’s by her side. So much of Esme in the tiny little girl in front of him; tenacious and ferociously intelligent and loving deeply and fearlessly. Knowing the darkness and the horrors that exist in the world but not allowing herself to be tarnished by it; always finding ways to smile and laugh and find the beauty in every day.

“What do you think mummy would have done if she didn’t do the job she did?” Addie inquires, when she finally drops her head back down and he’s able to return to tending her hair.

“I don’t know. Teach? Be a nurse? Maybe a doctor?”

“How would you have met her? If she didn’t do her old job?”

“Maybe I would have met her on the beach. In Australia. Maybe she would have come there on a vacation.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you would have gone to where she used to live. In Chicago.”

“She used to live in Colorado. That’s where she was born and where she grew up. Chicago is a totally different place.”

“She used to live by the mountains. When I was in her tummy, you guys lived on a hobby farm. And you had goats and chickens. Mummy says we still own that house.”

“Yup, we do. We rent it out.”

“Can we go there one day? I’d like to see it. I’d like to see where you guys were living when I was in mummy’s belly. Is that where I was made?”

“We’re pretty sure that’s where it happened. Not many other places it could have been.”

“Maybe we can go and visit. And I can see where I was made. That would be fun. I want to see the mountains.”

“Maybe one day.” He finishes up the first braided pigtail, securing it with an impossibly small elastic before turning his attention to the other section of hair.

“If you met mummy a different way, would you have still liked her? Would you have still fallen in love with her?”

“Yup. Why wouldn’t have I? She still would have been mummy. She still would have been the same person. Still would have been the most beautiful girl ever.”

“Do you think she still would have fallen in love with you?”

“I sure as hell hope so. Would sure suck if she didn’t. Your mumma is pretty special, Peanut. She’s the love of my life. Took me until I was thirty five to meet her.”

“You were married before, though. To Austin's mom. You didn’t love her?”

“I did. But not in the way I love your mum. Your mum? That’s who I want to spend the rest of my life with. Grow really, really, REALLY old with. It’s a whole other kind of love. And you know what? It’s not easy to explain. You just know what you feel.”

“Imagine if things were opposite? If you went to Colorado and met mummy instead of her meeting you in Australia and working with you? And then you would have stayed there; where the snow and the mountains are instead of the beach and the ocean. How come you moved? Why didn’t you guys stay? Where the mountains are?”

“Things changed. We weren’t happy there anymore. We needed to get away. Go back to the place where we were the happiest.”

“In Australia?”

“Yup.”

“That’s where I’m happiest too. I love it there. I love how warm it is; the sun and the sand and the water. I like the sound it makes; listening to it when I’m trying to fall asleep. And I like how the beach feels; between my toes and when I let it run through my fingers. And I love my room and my toys and my school and my friends and all the goats and our pigs and our chickens. And Charlie. I love him the most. I love making him peanut butter sandwiches. I’d miss him the most. If we had to leave. We won’t have to leave will we, daddy?”

“I don’t see why we would have to.”

“I don’t ever want to leave Australia. It’s perfect there. It’s where I was born. And where you were born too. We have that in common. We were BOTH born there.”

“Yeah…” he grins, and presses a kiss to the back of her head. “...we were.”

“I mean, we have other stuff in common too. Because you’re my dad and that means you helped make me so that means half of me is half of you. The other half is from mummy. And we both love surfing. And animals. And Vegemite. I LOVE Vegemite. It’s sooooo good.”

“Speaking of Vegemite, was it you that left the Vegemite and Nutella sandwich for Santa?”

Addie giggles. “Maybe…”

“Why would you ever put the two of those together?”

“Tyler made it for his school lunch once and he let me try a bit and it was really good! So I thought Santa might like to try it. Part American, part Australian.”

“You know, that’s pretty genius. And it worked. I tried a bit and it wasn’t bad.”

“Right?! You wouldn’t think it would work, but it does. Somehow. Kind of like you and mummy.”

“What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

“You and mummy are so different. You’re really tall and big and she’s really short and small. Like, you know how mummy is a morning person? She’s always really cheerful and smiley? And you’re not? You’re moody and miserable. A total grump face! And you don’t like to talk until you’ve had your first coffee. With three shots of espresso in it.”

“You notice all that stuff?”

“I notice everything. Mummy says I’m very observant. And that I have really good instincts. Like you. She says ‘cause my tummy tells me if something is right or wrong. And yours does too. You know how else you and mummy are different?”

“How?”

“Mummy talks to everyone! She’s very talky talky. A chatterbox.”

“Geez,” Tyler grins, and tugs playfully at the completed pigtail. “I wonder who ELSE is a chatterbox?”

“She’s a social butterfly. She makes friends everywhere she goes. People like her. Because she’s so bubbly and cute and she makes peoples hearts feel warm because she’s so nice to them. You’re more serious. You don’t talk a lot. At least not to people you don’t know. People are scared of you sometimes. Because how big you are and because you got all the drawings on you and the scars and stuff. They think you’re mean. ‘Cause of all that.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think you’re just daddy. I KNOW you’re not mean. I KNOW you’re a nice guy. I KNOW you give awesome hugs; your arms are big but they feel nice and they wrap all the way around me! If people really paid attention, they’d see that you’re nice. You have soft eyes. They’re blue and they’re pretty and they’re kind. Especially when you smile and they go all crinkly. If people really gave you a chance, they’d see you’re not scary at all. You’re only like that if you HAVE to be. If bad people are near mummy or us kids.”

“Are you ever scared of me?” It’s a recurring thought; if his children ever pick up on the worry and the tension and the fear that comes with his issues. It’s a feat some days; forcing himself out of bed and putting one foot in front of the other. Wanting nothing more than to stay under the covers and surrender to the exhaustion that comes with doing battle with his own mind every day. But his family is his number one priority, whether it’s a good day or a horrible one. And he’ll ‘fake it until he makes it’ as long as his children and his wife know that they’re loved; provided and cared for and made to feel safe and protected.

“Why would I be? Why would I be scared of my daddy?”

“Well, you know what I do for a living. You know what I’ve had to do to people. Does that scare you?”

“Nope. Because that’s just your job. It’s not who you are. When you come home, you’re just daddy. You take us bike riding and hiking and swimming and surfing. And you help us find rocks and shells and you let me sit on your shoulders when we walk on the beach or go into town. And we take naps. On the hammock. I love our naps on the hammock.”

He smiles. “So do I.”

“Sometimes I get a little worried. When you get upset. Or you and mummy argue. I don’t like when you guys argue. I always worry that you’ll hate each other. That you’ll get a divorce. And then you won’t live with us. It makes me sad when I think about that.”

“You don’t need to be sad, Peanut. That’s never going to happen. I’m never going to go and live somewhere else. I’m going to stay right where I am; with you guys and your mumma. And just because we argue? That doesn’t mean we’re going to hate each other. I could NEVER hate your mum. And I’m pretty sure she’d say the same thing about me. We love each other. Very much. Divorce is NOT something you need to think about. But do I ever scare you? Have I ever?”

“I don’t have a reason to be scared of you. Because you love me. You’d never hurt me. I never worry about that. Not even when you yell and your voice gets REALLY loud. I know you’d never do anything mean to me. Just to bad people. And I’m not a person. I’m a GOOD person.”

“You definitely are. You’re a VERY good person. An amazing little person.”

She smiles. “Like mummy.”

“Just like her. More than even I ever realized.”

******

“Addie…” TJ singsongs as he saunters into the kitchen, both hands tucked behind his back. “...what are you doing?”

“Tyler!” She cheerfully greets, and excitedly waves to him with both hands. Her entire face lighting up at the sight of her second favourite male in the house

She’s become extremely close to her oldest brother during her five years on earth; idolizing him and turning to him for help and comfort when daddy is either caught up with one of the other kids, tending to work related matters, or out of the house -and sometimes even the country- all together. And TJ dotes on her in return. Spoiling her and babying her ever since she was an infant and he was always more than willing to help change her diapers and give her feedings. In awe of how tiny she was and how she’d look up at him with so much adoration. He’s the quintessential older brother; patient and loving and ready to kick anyone’s ass that dares messes with her.

“Look at my dress! It’s the one I picked out when I went shopping for mommy. That I kept a secret. Isn’t it awesome?”

“Awesome just like you. It’s really pretty, Ads. Your favourite colour too!”

“Yup! Mummy bought it for me. She said it’s perfect for me. For my personality. It reminds me of Belle’s dress. From Beauty and the Beast.”

“Looks a little like it, I guess. But you know what? It’s even prettier. And you’re more beautiful than Belle. WAY more beautiful.”

“Really?” she gasps, and a noticeable blush creeps into her cheeks, spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “You really think so?”

“I REALLY think so. Belle has nothing on you. You’re the prettiest princess EVER. Way prettier than ANY of them.”

“Oh goodness!” She clamps both hands over her mouth in embarrassment, then giggles into them. “Like mumma? Just as pretty as her? Mumma is the prettiest EVER.”

“Just a smaller version of her.” TJ leans in close and presses the tip of his nose against hers. “Guess what I have? What you forgot in my room?”

“Adeline!” she cries, when he reveals the item he’d been keeping behind his back. And she snags the doll from him and showers its head and face with kisses as she clutches it tightly to her chest. “Adeline! I’m sorry I forgot you! I didn’t mean to!”

“I kept her safe for you,” TJ says. “So Declan wouldn’t grab her. You know how he likes to get a hold of dolls and torture them. I didn’t want him getting her. She’s way too pretty and I know how much you love her.”

“He’s mean to my dolls! He’s always taking their heads off and putting their arms where their legs should be and crazy shit like that.”

“Hey,” Tyler frowns, and tugs on the half braided pigtail. “What did I say?”

“No bad language. Especially on Christmas Day. I can’t help it though; sometimes it just slips out. If you didn’t swear so much around us kids…”

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus.”

“You swear A LOT, daddy. Especially in the car. When other people don’t drive fast enough or use their blinkers. If mummy knew exactly how much you DO swear around us, she’d be mad. REALLY mad.”

“Your mum has a worse mouth than I do.”

“As if!” Addie scoffs, and he can’t help but smile; easily hearing Esme’s voice and picturing the expression on her face; the corner up her mouth and her nose scrunched up in disgust, eyes slightly narrowed. “Thank you, Tyler!” She curls an arm around her brother’s neck, squeezing as tight as she can. “You’re the best! Thank you for keeping her safe from the Ginger. You’re the best brother EVER! I only trust you with her. And daddy. That’s it. You guys are big and strong and will keep her safe no matter what.”

“What the hell are you wearing?” He addresses his son as the latter moves to the fridge, pausing in the braiding of Addie’s hair to survey TJ’s wardrobe a pair of ill fitting and impossibly baggy jeans, an enormous untucked dress shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a loose pink, purple, and grey striped tie.

“Your pants. And one of your shirts.” TJ reaches into the fridge and grabs a carton of chocolate milk and a jug of white. Closing the door with his hip and carrying them to the counter by the sink; pouring a mix of both into a plastic tumblr retrieved from the dish rack and then snagging two straws from the cupboard. “Mum told me to. She said none of my clothes were good enough for Christmas dinner. All my jeans have holes in them and all t-shirts have to do with surfing. We’ve never had to dress up for Christmas dinner before. Why do we have to start now?”

“Your mum’s trying to make things perfect. To avoid drama. With your grandmother.”

“Too late. Grandma brings drama with her. And drops it on everyone else.” He drags a bar stool across the floor and places it in front of his little sister. “Here Ads,” he holds the cup in front of her. “A yellow straw just for you. So you don’t have to share my germs. Let me hold it; so you don’t spill anything on your dress.”

Giving a delighted squeal and a smile of appreciation, she takes a pull from the straw. “I think you look handsome, Tyler. You’re growing up. You’re going to be as big as daddy soon.”

“It’s going to be a while before I’m THAT big. But I’m going to work on it. As soon as I’m allowed, I’m going to lift heavy too and put on ALL kinds of muscle.”

“Then you can go after bad people too. And beat them up and kill them when you have to.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tyler suggests. “Something tells me mummy might have an issue with that.”

“Why doesn’t mum just tell grandma to get lost?” TJ inquires. “It’s not like they like each other. They never have. They’ve always fought. I remember how they’d get into it at Christmas. When we were still living in Colorado. Grandma would get drunk and she’d pick fights with mum and mum would fight back and cry and then you’d go off on grandma. Is that going to happen this year? ‘Cause it’s been nice and quiet at Christmas. Do we HAVE to listen to grandma's shit?”

“What did I just tell your sister? About the language?”

“She’s five, but she’s right. It IS hard to stop and it does just come out. But do we, dad? Do we really have to put up with her?”

“It’s one night. I think you can manage. If I can grin and bear it, so can you. Suck it up.”

“If she starts in on mum about ANYTHING, I’m going to lose it. That’s my mum. No one talks to my mum like that. I almost taught Jacobi a lesson. For calling mum cute and wanting to ask her out. I’ll teach grandma a lesson too. I’m not afraid of her.”

“If anyone is going to teach her a lesson, it’s going to be me. You stay out of it. Your mum wouldn’t want you getting into it with her. You’re TEN.”

“Doesn’t matter how old I am. That’s MY mum. And no one is going to treat her bad. We’re supposed to protect her, remember? You and I.”

“You’re supposed to be a kid and stay that way as long as you can. I’M supposed to protect your mom. And I think I’ve been pretty damn good at it for the last twelve and a half years. And if your grandma starts? I’ll stop it. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Why does she hate you so much anyway? Is it still the same crap? How she’s pissed because you stole mum away from her family and moved her all the way to Australia? ‘Cause you got her pregnant before you married her?”

Addie scowls. “Who cares? Lots of people have babies and they aren’t married. And so what if mummy didn’t go back home and she stayed with daddy? She’s an adult. She can do what she wants. And she wanted to be with daddy. None of grandma’s business. I’mma tell her that too. If she starts saying mean things about daddy or mummy. I’mma tell her what for.”

“You’re not going to do a thing,” Tyler informs her. “You’re going to leave all the telling off to me, got it?”

“I don’t like her,” Addie says. “She’s not a nice person. She has a mean smile. And her eyes are empty. They don’t sparkle or anything like that. Are you sure that’s mummy’s mummy? Because when mummy smiles, her eyes sparkle. She LOOKS happy. Grandma? She just looks mean.”

“No one likes her,” TJ grumbles. “Best thing we ever did was get away from her. But IS that why, dad? Is that really why she doesn’t like you? Because she still thinks you stole mum and took her all the way to Australia?”

“It’s a few things.”

“I bet it’s the job too. I bet she really has a problem with THAT.”

“Again…” Addie huffs dramatically. “...who cares? So what if daddy kills people? They’re BAD. They deserve it. He helps good people and sometimes when he’s helping them, he has to kill the bad guys. I don’t see a problem with that. If they try and hurt him or kill him, he HAS to kill them first. So he can come home. To us. And mummy. It only makes sense.”

“If Ads can get it, ANYONE can,” TJ says. “She’s only five. What’s grandma? A hundred? If a five year old can get it…”

“Daddy makes the world a better place because he gets rid of the bad people,” Addie continues, as she takes another sip of the drink her brother offers her. “If we had less bad people, everything would be great. There’d be less wars and less people getting hurt and everyone would love one another and be happy. Daddy’s doing a good thing. By sticking up for people. Like you do. At school. You beat up the bullies when you have to. Remember the older kid that tripped me and shoved my face in the mud? Remember him? He’s in grade eight AND you kicked the crap out of me. Because he picked on me.”

“You’re my sister. It’s my job to protect you.”

“And remember that other guy? On the playground by mummy’s store? The one that pulled my hair and told me I was adopted because I’m small and I don’t look like any of you guys. You freaked out on him and made him apologize and scared him away. He’ll cross the street now if he sees you coming.”

“You can’t let bad people get away with doing bad things,” TJ reasons. “If you don’t stop them, they’ll just keep doing bad stuff.”

“Exactly! So it’s a good thing that daddy goes after the bad guys. Grandma needs to learn. And she needs to learn TODAY. You should tell her, Tyler. You should tell her off. You’re not scared of anyone.”

“Not being scared of anyone or anything is not always a good thing,” Tyler informs her. “If you’re not scared, you don’t take a situation or people seriously. That’s when you get hurt. And you know what? No matter how big of a bad ass you think you are? There’s always a bigger one out there somewhere. Believe me. I’ve learned THAT lesson the hard way.”

“The guy who shot you just got a lucky one in,” TJ reasons. “You were already hurt. You weren’t one hundred percent. Some guy had already shot you, hadn’t he? A sniper?”

“What’s a sniper?” Addie inquires. “Is it like Swipper on Dora? Something like him?”

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Tyler says. “You don’t need to know that stuff. Not until you’re older. WAY older.”

“A sniper’s a guy that hides somewhere and shoots you,” TJ replies. “Somewhere where no one sees him. It’s why they’re so dangerous. You don’t even know where they are. They just shoot you. And they kill you before you even know what happened.”

“But daddy didn’t get killed. If a sniper shot daddy, shouldn’t he be dead?”

Combing his hand through her bangs, Tyler tips his daughter’s head back. “What did I just say? About you not needing to know about this stuff?”

“I’m curious now. Tyler said they hide and shoot people and kill them. How come you didn’t die? If a sniper shot you?”

“I guess he didn’t manage to get a good shot in.”

“It was the other guy that almost killed him,” TJ says, and takes a sip of the concoction in his hand. “The one that got him in the neck. That’s when he almost died. Mum saved him.”

“How? How did mummy save daddy? Daddy…” she swivels around in her stool to face him. “...how did mummy save you? Did she shoot the bad guy back?”

“Mum stuck her fingers in his neck,” TJ says. “To stop the bleeding. Or he would have bled to death.”

Addie’s eyes widen. “She DID?”

“When you’re older, MAYBE I’ll tell you more more about it. But for now…” Tyler places his hands on her shoulders and gently turns her back around. “...you don’t need to know this stuff. And you…” he stares pointedly at his son. “...don’t talk about this around her. She doesn’t need to know about this. She’s a baby still.”

“I’m not a baby!” Addie objects. “I’m five! I can almost ride my bike without training wheels. Babies can’t do that.”

“Just don’t, alright?” He addresses TJ. “Don’t talk about this stuff around her. Because she’s going to repeat all of this and she’s going to repeat it to your mum and that won’t end well. For you OR me.”

“It happened though. I mean, it’s part of how you guys met and got together and ended up getting married and stuff. It’s your history. I don’t see why…”

“I said ENOUGH. No more. Not around her. Got it?” He’s on edge; the mere mention of Dhaka and the incidents on the bridge playing straight into the anxiety and the panic he’d felt the night before; when he’d woken up from the nightmare and been on the verge of losing control and had turned to the fentanyl for relief. And it scares him; how easy it had been to not only access the powerful med, but actually take it. He’d encountered no resistance or hesitation; remorse and guilt not setting in until the following morning when he’d woken up and it had been the first thing on his mind. It’s alarming how quick things can return; an addict’s mind and behaviour.

Nodding, TJ holds his hands up in surrender.

“You’re both going to be nice tonight,” he says, and finishes Addie’s final braid. “To grandma. Because your mum is already stressed out enough and we don’t need to make it worse for her. So if the best you can do is smile and nod, just do that. I’m not asking you to kiss her ass. I’m just asking you to be civil. Can you handle that?”

TJ nods.

“You?” He tugs on one of Addie’s pigtails. “Can you do that? Be civil?”

“Do I have to be near her? Or sit on her lap? ‘Cause I draw the line there.”

“You don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Just don’t be a little asshole, alright?”

“Me? I’m Mary Freaking Sunshine, remember? That’s what Grandpa Koen calls me.”

“Well then live up to it and be nice to your grandmother. Smile until your face hurts, got it?”

“What do I get out of it?”

He smirks.

“Mummy says to always negotiate. Never settle for the first offer. Can I sleep in the big bed tonight? For being nice to grandma?”

“No.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he lifts her off the stool; pressing a kiss to her cheek before setting her on the ground.

She turns to face him. Head cocked to the side and one hand clutching her doll, the other planted firmly on her hip. “Can I have ice cream for my bedtime snack?”

"Maybe."

“Maybe isn’t good enough.”

“You ARE just like your mom, aren’t you.”

“I’ll be nice if I can have ice cream for my bedtime snack and you snuggle with me and draw on my back for half an hour. And that’s after FOUR stories.”

“You're bossy, you know that? Two stories.”

“Three. That’s as low as I’ll go.”

“I will give you two stories, ice cream for your snack, and forty five minutes of snuggling and drawing on your back. Instead of half an hour. We got a deal?”

Her eyes narrow as she considers it; nibbling on her bottom lip and swishing her hips back and forth. “You’re good at this.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo, Peanut. I’ve dealt with tougher than you. What do you say?” He offers a hand. “Deal?”

“Deal!” she agrees, his hand easily swallowing hers as they shake on it.

Grinning, he runs a hand over the top of her head and then drops a kiss on her hair. “You really DO have a lot of your mum in you.”

“Great things come in small packages,” Addie reasons, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down and pecks her lips. “Thank you, daddy!” she chirps. “My hair looks beautiful. You always do it perfect.”

“Pretty hard not to when my subject is so cute. Good thing I married your mum, huh? So I could have a kid as cute as you?”

“You really are a lucky man!” she declares and then cheerfully skips out of the room.

“I hope grandma is on her best behaviour,” TJ says, as he finishes the drink in his hand and then slides off the stool and returns it to its place at the island. “Because if she DOES start on mum, it’s going to be a wild night. I really hope she watches her step.”

“My too, kiddo,” Tyler sighs, and reaches out to tousle his son’s hair. “Me too.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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