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babyboibucky · 4 years ago

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Elevate Thy Hate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Not a day goes by that you and Bucky don’t argue.

Word Count: 4,642

Warnings: Cliché plot but slight angst, self-doubt and Bucky being a loveable idiot who sucks at communicating

A/N: Surprise one-shot because I just remembered I wrote this like...last year lmfao

MAIN MASTERLIST

You woke up feeling great and excited. The mission was finally finished, debriefings were done and reports have been submitted. Everyone was given an entire week to get some rest and since rest days were pretty rare, you truly looked forward to this day.

Before you could even saunter in the kitchen, you had already heard the chatters from your fellow Avengers. One particular voice irked you though but hell no, you weren’t going to let one Bucky Barnes ruin your day.

A chorus of good mornings greeted you as soon as you walked into the kitchen. Nat and Steve were on one side of the counter sipping their coffee while Sam and Wanda were finishing up their food. Tony and Bruce were out of sight, probably holed up in the lab doing experiments as usual. Bucky didn’t acknowledge you and quickly headed out of the kitchen, thankfully. You weren’t in the mood to pick a fight.

Walking up to the cupboards, you quickly grabbed you favorite cereal and proceeded to pour it out on your bowl. None came out though. You peeked inside bag and saw that only crumbs of it were left.

“Who the—“

Everyone was already pointing at Bucky when you turned around to ask. And of course, Bucky did it on purpose because he stood there at the end of the hallway, watching you with smug grin on his face.

“I hope your day sucks.” He said and flipped you the bird before turning around to walk away.

You groaned out loud, ignoring the amused chuckles from everyone else in the kitchen.

“I’m not stooping down to your level, asshole! I hope your day is average!”

The day was fortunately uneventful, except for your ruined breakfast care of Bucky. You were determined not to let that annoy you for the rest of the day. So far, so good. You could only wish it’d continue that way for the rest of the week.

“I told you not to rush!” Bucky snapped.

“I had him already! If you didn’t throw that goddamn smoke grenade I would’ve killed him!” You explained.

You could see Sam shaking his head in frustration. Bucky always had to blame something on you even though you weren’t the one at fault.

Bucky snorted, “He had a sniper for fuck’s sake! One shot and you’re dead.”

“Oh wow, says the one who got shot before I did.” You rolled your eyes at Bucky.

The two of you continued to bicker until Nat and Steve walked into the living room looking confused as you and Bucky exchanged insults while Sam remained sandwiched between the both of you on the couch.

“Who got shot?” Steve asked, glancing at you and Bucky alternately.

“Did we miss out on a mission or...?” Nat continued.

Sam chuckled, “We were playing Call of Duty and we lost.” He explained, taking the opportunity to get up from the sofa.

Steve still looked lost, something that Nat immediately picked up. “It’s a video game.” She explained.

“You two are fighting over a game?” He asked you and Bucky.

“They fight over everything.” Nat shrugged and walked out of the room with Sam tagging behind her.

“I’m outta here too, I’m so done babysitting the kids.” He muttered under his breath.

It was past midnight when you were in the living room alone, watching television while eating a Whopper. The lights were turned off and it was absolutely quiet in the compound, setting the perfect ambience for the crime documentary you were watching.

Not long after, you heard someone walk into the living room. It was only when your heard the familiar grunt that you realized who it was. Of course, it had to be Bucky.

“Are you eating a burger?” He asked incredulously.

“No, it’s popcorn. Of course it’s a fucking burger, are you blind or just dumb?” You snapped, your eyes still glued on the television.

“Dumbfounded that you’re eating that at this hour. No wonder you suck at cardio.” Bucky said as he sat down on the other end of the sofa.

“Are you body-shaming me?” You gasped.

Bucky snickered, “I didn’t say anything, I just said you suck at cardio.” He said, not looking at you.

You chose to ignore him and brought your attention back to the television. It was quiet for moment. You almost forgot about Bucky’s presence until of course, he decided to annoy you yet again.

“Can you pass the remote?” Bucky asked monotonously.

“No.”

Silence.

“This show sucks.” He commented.

You were focused on the show but noticed that Bucky was staring at you.

“Can you please pass the remote?” He asked again.

“In case you didn’t notice, I’m watching. I was here first. I hold the rights to control the remote.” You deadpanned, refusing to look at him.

There was a flash of black and gold right before your eyes. Everything happened quickly and the next thing you knew, Bucky was hovering above you, trapping you between his body and the arm rest of the sofa.

“The fuck, Barnes?! Get off of me!” You protested and started pushing him away.

“You gotta work on your reflexes, darling.” He said, finally leaning away from you, remote now in his hand.

He grinned triumphantly and switched the channel before placing the remote inside his sweatpants, “Want to switch the channel? Come and get it.” he taunted as he leaned back on the couch, opening his legs wide as he showed off how the remote created a tent in his sweatpants.

That was the remote...right? You mentally slapped yourself for actually thinking about what Bucky was packing beneath those pants and frowned.

“You’re an asshole and a disgusting one.” You told him.

“God, I hate you.” You muttered and crumpled the wrapper of your burger before throwing it at Bucky.

Deciding that you didn’t want to argue any further, you got up and left the living room, but not without telling Bucky again how much you hated him for making your life miserable.

“The feeling is mutual.” You heard him say.

The petty fights with Bucky went on and on during that entire week of rest. Despite the arguments, there were small moments of kindness shared between you and the soldier.

“Where are you going dressed up so nicely?” You asked Bucky upon seeing him walk into the kitchen wearing a leather jacket on top of a black shirt, dark, tight-fitting jeans and a pair of Doc Martens.

It was meant as an insult, of course. You took every opportunity to tease Bucky and his newfound sense of fashion. Said fashion meant his taste for very millennial outfits despite his old age.

“Grocery.” He replied as he went over to the fridge to pour himself a glass of water.

“Ooh, can you buy me Starbucks on your way back? I’ll pay.” You asked kindly.

Bucky just stared at you as he drank from his glass of water. He slammed it on the counter before walking past you.

“Not a damn chance.”

He did buy you Starbucks though. It didn’t shock you that much considering that the both of you didn’t hate on each other all the damn time. But what surprised you was that he brought you your usual drink and your favorite pastry too.

Steve must have forced him to do so, probably told his best friend your usual orders as well so you made a note to thank him as soon as they got back.

And thank Steve you did, but you didn’t expect the reply that you got.

“Oh was that the reason why Bucky kept bugging me about stopping by Starbucks?” Steve asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “What do you mean? I thought he told you I asked him to buy me Starbucks.”

Steve chuckled, “I guess now I know why he wouldn’t shut up about it.” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

“I don’t understand, Cap.” you said.

Steve just smiled at you in response before squeezing your shoulder, “Maybe you will understand soon.”

And with that, he left you feeling even more confused. You honestly didn’t understand the context of the conversation so you decided to just ignore it. Steve sometimes would say weird shit that none of the Avengers knew about. You dismissed it and thought that maybe it was Steve being a decade old, it was probably an old man thing.

You decided to make coffee for Bucky the following day, as a simple gesture to thank him for the Starbucks. He didn’t ask you to pay him back so you felt obligated to do a little something for him. You were an asshole to him sometimes, yes, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to give credit where credit is due.

Okay, so maybe you didn’t really hate Bucky. If you did actually hate him, the entire team would probably do something about it. Maybe force the two of you to talk things out. The hatred was all fun and games, everyone seemed to be amused by it too.

You still considered Bucky your friend despite the constant bickering. You had to admit, the arguments were pretty fun.

Although, you were wondering whether Bucky felt the same about considering you as his friend. Sometimes, his attitude towards you confused the hell out of you.

One day he’d eat the chocolate you’ve been saving up for cheat day just to spite you. And it definitely did because you ended up cursing him out loud when you saw him munching on it. The next day he brought you a new one. You were watching Netflix when he waltzed into the living room and threw a bar of chocolate at your lap before walking out without saying a word.

These exchange of small yet kind (and confusing) gestures remained unacknowledged. You didn’t know why but you also didn’t feel the need to talk about them. You weren’t going to lie but Bucky’s random acts of kindness would always put a smile on your face.

The vacation unfortunately came to an end and everyone had to go back to saving the world. All of you were gathered in the conference room with Fury for a briefing about the next mission. It wasn’t as big as the last one but it still required a lot of planning.

After explaining the mission, Fury let Steve take over the meeting to strategize.

Some were assigned to do surveillance around the parameter while some were appointed to do all the groundwork. Steve of course, just had to partner you with Bucky to do the actual infiltration given that your skills complemented each other’s.

You grinned and was prepared to roast Bucky’s ass when you turned to him and was met with a scowl. He shook his head with what you assumed was disappointment and turned away from you.

It was the first time he ever dismissed you like that. Sure, you were rude to each other but the look that Bucky gave you wasn’t a teasing one. He wasn’t mocking you nor frustrated. Bucky seemed to really hate the idea of being partnered with you. It was the first time that the two of you had to work together without anyone else. Usually, Steve or Sam joined but for this mission, it was just you and Bucky. Concluding that he must have woken up at the wrong side of the bed, you chose to ignore your gut feeling and focused back to Steve.

After the meeting, everyone else exited the room and started with the preparations for the mission. As you walked down the hallway leading to your bedroom, you heard some soft chattering coming from Steve’s bedroom.

You were supposed to ignore it until you heard your name, making you stop in your tracks.

“I can’t be partnered with her, Steve.”

Bucky.

“Buck, just go with it. I can’t be changing assignments at the last minute.” Steve explained.

Bucky sighed, “You know I can’t function properly when she’s around, let alone be partnered with her. She distracts me, Steve. Her skills distract me and I swear on our friendship, I would end up dying on this assignment.”

“You’re being overly dramatic, Buck. Just suck it up, pal. Do the mission and get it over with.”

“Steve, you don’t understand. I really can’t deal with her. Especially if it’s just the two of us. You know how much I fucking—“

“Hate me?”

You couldn’t help but interject in their conversation. How could you not? Bucky was complaining about how he couldn’t deal with you. It really hurt hearing Bucky say all those things about you. Sure, you were somewhat new to the team and you didn’t have superpowers nor years of training like the rest. But you worked your ass off to be in this position. And for him to say that he couldn’t function with you being around struck a nerve. The last thing on your mind was to hold back your teammates, that’s why you train twice, thrice as hard.

Steve and Bucky stared at you as if they’ve seen a ghost. It’s as if all their blood was drained out of their body when they saw you step inside the room. Bucky was about to say something but you decided to cut him off, not wanting to hear more about how he doesn’t want to be partnered with you.

“We don’t get along that well, I get that. But I honestly thought that our arguments were harmless. Hell, I consider us friends. I didn’t think that you actually hated me.” Your voice quivered because you were truly, deeply hurt.

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky insisted.

“You literally said that you might end up dying because of being partnered with me, Bucky! Look, I know that I don’t have a super serum running through my veins. I can’t move things with my mind and I can’t come up with life-changing tech. I wasn’t trained since childhood nor have the perfect aim. But I worked hard to be in this team. I trained hard not to be a burden to anyone and I’m sorry if my skills aren’t up to your standards.”

What did you even do to Bucky for him to hate you this much?

“Don’t worry, I won’t burden you. Once this mission is over, I won’t bother you anymore. Ever.” You said before walking out of the way, ignoring Bucky when he had repeatedly called your name.

The ride to the location was filled with tension. Although everyone else had no idea what happened, they somehow knew that the tension had something to do with you and Bucky.

Thankfully, the quinjet was big enough for you not to end up sitting beside Bucky.

“You okay?” Wanda asked, noticing how restless you were.

What you heard definitely affected you in more ways than one. You kept on double checking your weapons, your gadgets and you even ended up doubting yourself. Were you really equipped to be an Avenger? Steve said that Bucky was merely overacting but what if he was right? What if you weren’t skilled enough to protect him or your teammates?

“That’s not true.” Wanda said out of the blue. “I didn’t mean to read your mind, though. Your thoughts are coming off too strong, kinda hard to ignore.” She said apologetically.

You softly laughed, “I should really be staying away from you.” You joked.

Wanda smiled and placed her hand on top of yours, “I mean it though. You’re amazing at what you do. I don’t understand why you’re doubting yourself about being an Avenger.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you offered Wanda a grateful smile. You noticed that Bucky had been staring at you the entire time but simply ignored him. You weren’t going to let him snap you out of your focus.

Once on location, everyone started to split up and listened for Steve’s orders through the comms. You and Bucky managed to get inside the base, all thanks to Nat and the Hulk who handled all the guards.

The building was completely empty when the two of you walked around in search of the hidden quarters where all the intel were kept.

Bucky whistled to get your attention, you turned and saw that he was motioning towards what seemed to be a regular brick wall. However, there were a few bricks out of place and upon examining it, you realized it was some sort of a secret door. You managed to figure out which bricks to push and thankfully, it didn’t take you long enough to open the door which revealed an old, steel elevator.

“We found the entrance, Steve.” Bucky said into the comms.

“Careful in there, there were suspiciously a few guards within the parameters. They all might be in there.” Nat warned.

You heaved out a deep breath before stepping into the elevator with Bucky trailing behind you. There was only one button in the elevator, a red one.

“Can someone scan the elevator and make sure this button won’t set off any boobie trap or something?” You asked nervously as you inspected the elevator for any hidden traps.

The comms cracked with Sam’s voice. “Button is safe although...” he trailed.

“Although what?” Bucky asked, examining the elevator as well.

“You’re in for a long ride.”

You frowned, “How long?” You asked.

“Can’t see. It’s way too deep.”

Sam was able to scan the entire base and true enough, the elevator would lead deep down into the hidden laboratory. How deep into the ground it was, none could tell. Neither Sam nor Tony’s technology could see through due to the lack of signal. Steve said it might be dangerous to proceed given that there were no other ways into the lab except for the elevator.

The lack of signal down there meant no communication.

“Guys, I don’t think it’s a good idea to continue with this mission.” Steve said.

“But we’re so close, Steve.” You said.

“I think Steve is right. It’d be hard to call for back up when things go south.” Bucky interjected, not even sparing you a glance.

You snorted. Bucky sure wasn’t overacting when he was complaining about your skills. He definitely didn’t trust you. You weren’t going to settle for that.

“We won’t need any back up.”

And with that, you pressed the red button and completely ignored everyone’s warnings through the comms. Bucky looked at you with disbelief and tried to press the red button again in hopes of halting the elevator. However, the brick wall had closed and the elevator started its descent.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He yelled and tried to search the elevator for some sort of stop button.

“We’ll follow soon!” Steve’s voice was the last you heard before your comms completely lost its signal.

“Christ, we don’t even know whether it’s the lab that’s down there!” Bucky said, continuing his search for anything that would bring the both of you up to the ground floor.

“I’m not as stupid as you think I am. All secret doors lead to a top secret room and no, we won’t be needing any back up because I am totally capable of taking down anyone who gets in the way.” You stubbornly replied and leaned against the wall.

You wondered how long the elevator ride was going to be. At the speed that it’s going, it wasn’t impossible to take at least fifteen to twenty minutes if the lab was really far down into the ground. Bucky’s frustration was evident from the way he kept on inspecting the elevator walls. At first it was easy to ignore but Bucky was becoming more and more desperate to find a way to go back up.

“Your desperation to stay away from me is just...astounding.” You said with a bitter chuckle.

��I’m finding a way to get out of here, not away from you.” Bucky explained calmly.

You shook your head, “You don’t trust me to keep you alive, I get it. But can you tone it down even for just a bit?” You spat at him.

Bucky pressed the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated sigh, “You don’t need to keep me alive.”

“Of course not, you don’t need me to do so ‘cause you’re so capable. How did I not think of that?” At this point, you couldn’t stop the word vomit.

You had tons of things to say to Bucky to prove to him that you were totally good at what you do, that he didn’t need to underestimate you just because you were a new addition to the team.

“That’s not what I mean.” Bucky explained again.

It was starting to annoy you that the more you were becoming agitated, the calmer he was becoming. And he kept on telling you that he meant differently with his statements but he never really attempted to further explain his side.

“Then what do you mean, Bucky?” You pressed. “What did I ever do to you for you to hate me this much? Did I say something offensive? Do I have to train 24/7 for you to think that I deserve to be working alongside the Avengers?” You kept on babbling on and on and on.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand, “I don’t hate you, okay?” He doesn’t even spare you a look.

All this time, he was looking at anything but you and it was really getting on your nerves.

“See? You keep on telling me that you don’t hate me but you can’t even look at me! I mean, if you really loathe me then own up to it! It hurts me more that you keep on denying it when you can’t even explain a damn thing. At least tell me why!” You were never an emotional person and Bucky knew that, so when he finally turned to look at you, he was surprised to see you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey...” Bucky coaxed and tried to hold you but you stepped away from him.

“Just please tell me why, Buck. Tell me and I promise to stay away. If you think I suck at being an Avenger to the point of irritating you, tell me so I can train my fucking ass off until you deem me fit to be an Avenger. If my jokes offended you, I’m sorry. If I—“

“It’s because I like you.”

“...what?”

Bucky Barnes...likes you? It’s as if the silence went on forever inside the elevator that seemed to keep going. How long were the two of you inside it anyway? You couldn’t tell anymore and you didn’t know whether Bucky was simply fooling around with you.

“That’s not funny.” You said.

Bucky shook his head, “It’s not a joke.”

You stared at him doubtfully, “Explain.” You demanded.

Bucky licked his lips and let out a soft chuckle, “I’m an idiot.” He said.

“That doesn’t explain anything. If any, I’d think you’re simply fucking with me.” You pointed out and crossed your arms over your chest.

That seemed to urge Bucky to finally explain. “What you heard in Steve’s room was correct.”

“So you really hate me.”

Bucky groaned, “Let me finish, please?” He pleaded. When you remained silent, he continued to explain himself.

“You really do distract me during missions. Because you’re so amazing and I never doubted your skills. But I also get worried and I hate it when I see you in pain or wounded and it fucking distracts me. I didn’t want to be partnered with you because when I see you, I just...fuck. I like you that much. You kick someone’s ass and I’d end up watching you with awe that it’d cause me my own demise. That’s what I meant. That I’d probably end up dying because whenever you’re around, you have my full attention.”

The anger within you dissipated just like that. You could feel your face heat up from Bucky’s unexpected confession.

“But you’re an asshole to me.” You pointed out.

Bucky laughed, “Because that’s how I get your attention. You walk into a room with a kind-hearted super soldier, a witty bird brain and a few more intelligent men and yet I’d be the first one you’d acknowledge. With a snarky comment but still, attention is attention. It’s the only way I get to interact with you without feeling awkward. I suck at conversations, I mean, you heard me and though I was hating on you when I was merely blabbering to Steve about how much I like you.”

This time, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. All along, Bucky was finding a way to talk to you even though it meant constant arguments over the pettiest things. To be fair though, he really did suck at communicating.

“I’m sorry that it came across like that.” Bucky apologized sincerely. “I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.” He admitted.

You shrugged, “Oh but it does. In fact, it changes everything.”

Bucky’s face fell.

“Because I think I like you too and I kinda want for things to change. For the better of course.” You grinned.

Bucky chuckled and scratched his forehead bashfully, “You think, huh? Not sure?” He asked and turned to you just as the elevator doors opened.

Indeed, it led to the lab where almost all of the targets stayed. The man nearest the elevator had his gun pointed at Bucky but before he could even pull the trigger, Bucky had thrown his knife at him without even sparing a glance and choked the next guy to attack with his metal arm before throwing him towards a group of armed men. He was just gazing at you with a smittened smile.

“Still not sure about liking me back?”

Impressed at his gesture, you smirked.

“Now I am.”

By the time Steve, Nat and Sam walked out of the elevator, the mission had already been done. You walked towards the trio and handed Steve a USB.

“All their data is already saved there. Wiped out their entire system clean too.” You told him, voice chirpy and all.

Bucky was right behind you, a couple of folders in his hands before handing them to Sam, “Lotsa confidential info in there too which includes our next targets.” he said and walked past Sam with a certain jump in his steps.

The three exchanged glances before looking around the entire lab. Men were scattered on the floor, most were dead and others heavily injured.

“What the hell happened here?” Nat asked, avoiding the injured men on the ground as she walked around.

“The mission happened, Nat. All that matters now is that everything has been resolved. I mean, everything.” You said meaningfully and threw Bucky a flirty smile before walking into the elevator.

He followed suit and saluted at the three before pushing the red button. The doors weren’t even closed yet when Bucky couldn’t hold back and quickly leaned to press a soft kiss on your lips. An action that definitely didn’t go unnoticed by the three. You couldn’t help but chuckle when you noticed their reactions before the elevator closed.

Said trio stood there dumbfounded and confused as hell. Early on, the tension between you and Bucky was felt by everyone. The kind of tension then wasn’t even a sexual one. It was so intense that Nat was actually expecting to see you and Bucky at each other’s throats when they got down to the lab.

“Guess that the long ass elevator ride did something. Whatever was in that elevator seems interesting. Wanna go check it out, Nat?” Sam asked suggestively.

Steve chuckled and shook his head.

Nat simply smirked and walked past Sam, “In your dreams, Wilson.”

Everything Bucky Tag List:

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#bbbwrites #oneshots: bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #sebastian stan

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kythed · 4 years ago

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what love tastes like

terushima yuuji x reader

synopsis: in which you learn that falling in love tastes like monster

“Taste,” he says. He holds the cold rim of a freshly opened can to your lips, and first it’s metallic, salty, but then it’s sweet.

You take a sip.

“So you’re telling me you’ve never tried Monster before?” he asks, taking a drink himself. The two of you are sitting on a park bench across the street from a gas station. He licks his lips-- the silver ball embedded in his tongue winks at you, a shallow token of youthful rebellion that somehow seems more significant on him.

“Never. I’m more of a Dr. Pepper girl.” You reach for the can again, letting the saccharine liquid sloshing inside coat your tongue. It’s really too much for me, you think. But of course, you won’t tell him that.

“Not anymore,” he says, and he slips a firm hand around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and daring you to look away with a wicked grin-- it’s attractive, to say the least. “Now you’re my girl.”

You’ve barely parted your lips to respond before his mouth is on yours, tongue halfway down your throat, and you’re whimpering into the kiss as he snakes a hand down your back and presses your body to his. The whole ordeal tastes like Monster and feels far more energizing than the packaging promises.

Within your first day of meeting him, Terushima Yuuji has already claimed you as his own.

And you’re okay with it.

He’s about as healthy for you as the Monster is-- which is to say, not at all.

In your next couple months of dating him, this becomes apparent. He takes you to the edge of the woods at twilight and lights your first cigarette, laughing as you take a draw and end up coughing. Plucking it from your fingers, he holds the cig high as smoke curls into the hazy sky and eventually melds with the faintly orange cumuli. “Guess it’ll take a little practice before you can smoke with the big dogs, huh?”

You flush and snatch it back, determined to prove your aptitude for defiance. By the end of the night, you can blow smoke rings-- he applauds, and for some odd reason your heart swells at his lazy grin.

(The next kiss tastes like tobacco and novelty.)

He shows you each of his tattoos, some of which peek out from underneath his clothes, some of which aren’t exactly visible to the onlooker’s eye. There’s a tendril of ivy climbing down his forearm, a flock of wild cranes taking flight from his left shoulder. A dark silhouette is on his chest, kneeling low to who knows what. You trace the image of an unlit candle on the back of his neck, asking what it means-- for a millisecond, his mouth tightens into an expressionless line, but then he laughs. “Why, you want one too? Let’s go to the parlor then.”

When you decline, he takes a permanent marker from his bedside table and prints a small label on your inner wrist. ‘Mine’ it says, accompanied by an oddly appropriate smiley face. “Then this will have to do.”

(This kiss tastes like ink and enigma.)

He brings you to a decrepit manor on the outskirts of town-- legend has it a young, newly wealthy couple purchased it twenty years ago, unaware its foundations rested on a centuries old cemetery. The spiteful spirits drove them to the brink of madness. The sort of madness that could only be alleviated by the resounding finality of death.

“They were found hanging from their bedsheets in the west wing,” Yuuji whispers to you, his breath tickling your ear. An unwanted tremor runs from your head to your high-tops. You don’t believe in ghosts, so it must be because you’re cold. (At least, that’s what you tell yourself.) “I want that kind of love.”

You turn, surprised to see his expression remains entirely serious. “The kind where you die for one another?”

“The kind where you die with one another,” he corrects, wistfully gazing into the dingy bay windows protruding from the manor’s anterior.

You remain silent.

“Life is just an accumulation of bad decisions, and love is just an accumulation of bad decisions you make with another person,” he muses, still peering at the grandeur of the lonely estate. He turns to you, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Wanna make a bad decision with me?”

The next hour is spent in the modest company of Yuuji, a couple of baseball bats, and the empty halls of a long dead house. There’s no one to witness the two of you shattering each dusty antique vase save for the portraits on the wall. Soon, their frames, too, receive a violent visit from a vindictive bat, usually accompanied by Yuuji’s unadulterated glee and a resounding whoop.

You’re not a fan of destruction. Especially not the destruction of rare, precious items reminiscent of a life bygone. Yet, it’s exhilarating to indulge in it, to swing your bat with a meaningless vengeance and watch as whatever priceless heirloom that evoked your baseless wrath fractures into pieces. You demolish a set of fine china found in the dining room cabinet and Yuuji gathers you into his arms, kissing you fiercely (it tastes like some sort of perverse, seductive joy, rosewater mixed with ashes). He chuckles into your mouth when you push your tongue into his, retribution for your first kiss many weeks ago. It’s deliciously gratifying.

If Yuuji is right, and love is just a mosaic of bad decisions and desire-- maybe you’re okay with that. Maybe this is all I really need, you think, watching Yuuji from the corner of your eye on the drive home. Yellow street lights cast irregular shadows on his angular features, lending him an otherworldly sort of beauty.

“What is it?” he asks, without taking his eyes off the road. One of his hands inches up your inner thigh, giving it a quick squeeze before retreating to the responsibility of the steering wheel.

You hesitate, just for a second. An unseen force constricts around your throat; you banish it with a hard swallow. “I love you.”

One second passes. Then two.

He says nothing the rest of the ride home, and you sit in mortified silence, watching traffic blur by with glassy eyes. You must’ve misread this whole thing. You’re just a fling Yuuji plans on discarding whenever he grows tired… your mouth goes dry with regret.

When you pull up in front of your house, he walks you to your front door. You can hardly stand to look him in the eye.

“Well, thanks for today,” you say, examining your shoelaces with false interest. “I had a lot of--”

“I love you, too.”

Startled, you look up. “I- what?”

“I said,” he says, stepping close, putting a hand beneath your chin to tilt it upwards. Your body is eclipsed by his larger one, and you’re overwhelmed with the sudden urge to hide from his penetrating gaze. “I love you, too.”

A beat of silence.

“Oh,” you breathe, and, suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you fervently— but this time, it’s chaste, it’s… loving (and it tastes like honeyed laughter). Only for a second though.

Then his hands are on your waist, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises; he’s aflame with a hotblooded passion-- your body is his Holy Grail and your mouth is its rim. He leads you into the hallway, fumbling to close the door behind him. You gasp when he pushes you up against the wall and harshly sucks at the sensitive skin beneath your jaw, your nails digging into his back through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“I love you,” he mumbles, painting your neck with a line of ardent kisses, trailing from right below your ear to right above your collarbone. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

There’s something a little too tender in the way he caresses your face the next morning to wake you after he’s slipped his clothes back on, in the way he smiles softly at your bleary eyed confusion, in the way he holds you in his embrace a fraction of a second longer than you hold him in yours before saying goodbye.

Terushima Yuuji may play the part of a reckless delinquent, but he’s not your average troublemaker. There’s something inscrutable behind his gaze, even as he sprays obscene graffiti on stop signs and shoplifts alcohol from the neighborhood drugstore, a walking cliche of hoodlum culture.

There’s something a little too careful about the boy who claims to be careless.

Yuuji is still fun, of course. He takes immense pride in being fun. He invites you to one of his friends’ gigs, some sort of grunge-esque affair with a heavily pulsating bass line and a preponderance of cheap liquor in red plastic cups. The drummer winks at you during one of the songs-- later Yuuji slugs him in the jaw, taking a few hits in the process, and makes a show of kissing you sloppily while the poor drummer nurses his rapidly forming bruise with a pack of frozen peas. (The kiss, of course, tastes like blood and pride.)

He teaches you how to use a switchblade-- “Just in case,” he says, wrapping his hand around yours in an effort to show you the proper grip. In exactly what situation you’d be forced to use a switchblade remains unclear, but when you ask he just laughs and shrugs, spinning the knife in between his slender fingers. “You never know.”

(He tells you a story of a fist fight years ago and lifts his shirt to point out a pale, faded scar-- the other guy brought a knife concealed in his sleeve. You then agree it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.)

The two of you trespass on the regular, scaling fences and picking locks to dip your feet in private pools, to run barefoot on the soft grass of a golf course late at night, to explore taped off tunnels and underpasses.

All of it is fun, all of it depicts your relationship as something accidental, something reckless, the convergence of two beings as coincidental as the convergence of the two cells that provoked the Big Bang.

But your intimate moments, the faintest imprints in between the lines, tell a different story. One onlookers don’t see.

They don’t see how Yuuji places a hand on the small of your back to guide you over a crosswalk, or how he pours a coffee and carefully blows on it before bringing it to you. They don’t see how he laughs when you laugh and smiles when you smile.

They don’t hear what he whispers to you under the sheets-- sweet nothings that would make Cupid himself blush-- as he touches you slowly, purposefully, following your curves deliberately as a sculptor molding clay.

They don’t feel his kisses, delicately placed on your lips, your neck, your stomach and thighs. They don’t feel his eyelashes fluttering on your cheek as he allows himself to rest with you in his most vulnerable state.

It’s during these moments that deep secrets are so shyly exchanged in the sleepy haze of late nights and early mornings. He bares his soul to you in all its imperfection (you suspect you are the only one to have ever seen it in this state). He shatters himself bit by bit like the vases you splintered so long ago, offering you the fragments so you can gradually piece together the entire portrait.

“You know how I told you my dad taught me how to fight?” he asks one of these times. Your head is in his lap as he strokes your hair ever-so-lightly. You nod, looking up into those sweet brown eyes-- they look sad today. “That’s only half true. He didn’t teach me, but I had to learn because of him.”

You take his hand and brush your lips over his knuckles, humming softly, and he takes this small act of comfort and stores it away like he always does.

I’m sorry.

“I’m scared of trying to be someone different than I am now, but I want to be. I wish I could be.”

You can.

“I’m sorry for getting you into so much trouble these days.”

Don’t be.

“I think we should run away, just you and me. We could make it, you know.”

I know.

Of course, all good things come to an end. You know that.

You just aren’t anticipating something so good to end so soon-- as suddenly as Terushima Yuuji becomes yours, he disappears.

One morning, he’s sleeping in the bed next to you, and the next he’s gone without a trace. Literally. He leaves behind no extra t-shirts, no stray sock or phone charger, no note. You pad down the hall, ducking your head into each room.

“Yuuji?” you call. “Is this some sort of joke?”

It’s not.

You call his phone and reach his voicemail. Hey, this is Terushima. Not available right now, probably busy doing somethin’ stupid or taking a piss. Leave a message if you want.

The sound of his voice grows more and more painful to hear over the next six months. At first, you call every day, then every week, then every month. At month six, you’ve stopped calling at all. If he wanted to answer, he would. You don’t even know why you’ve kept it up so long when he obviously left for a reason.

So, you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and cobble them together again. It’s not a graceful recovery, but it’s a recovery, and that’s what matters. The gaping hole he left is gradually filled by your family, your friends-- you don’t go on a single date, but that’s okay. (You’re just not ready. You tell yourself that you will be, someday.)

Soon, you’re whole again. As you discover, there are ways to find yourself other than falling dangerously in love with a dangerous boy.

You run into him one day, eight or so months after his disappearance. You’re filling your car at a gas station, and at the park across the street, he’s sitting next to a girl you don’t recognize. She laughs at all his jokes and sips a can of Monster he offers her. As if he can feel your stare, Yuuji glances over and catches your eye. He jogs across the street, dodging traffic, and you two exchange tentative pleasantries before the conversation comes to an uneasy rest on the taboo-- why he left.

It wasn’t because of you, it turns out. At least, not really. You were just the catalyst.

“I was the problem,” Yuuji says, laughing, though the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “You remember how I once told you I thought love was making your bad decisions with someone by your side?”

You nod, and the wound has scabbed over enough for you to remember it lightly, with a slight curve of the lips.

“You showed me that wasn’t true.” He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt absentmindedly, not quite meeting your gaze. “I started wanting to make good decisions instead. And that just wasn’t me. Love isn’t for me.”

“It could’ve been,” you say simply. He stares at you, momentarily unable to form a response. Then he laughs it off, a sound you used to adore that now sounds harsh and grating.

“Maybe someday,” he says, but his expression tells you otherwise. It tells you how scared he is of ever being that person.

The thing about love is that it gives you something to lose. It gives you a reason to make good decisions. It gives you something to fear for.

As he turns to leave, Yuuji freezes in his tracks. He throws a look over his shoulder. “Just for the record-- it hurt. Leaving. I did love you.”

You smile. It’s a genuine smile, but it’s sad, too. “I know.”

And the thing about fear is that some people can’t bear it well enough to let themselves love someone.

You watch his retreating back for a brief moment before climbing into your car. It’s not until you’re halfway home that you realize you’re crying. Tears roll down your cheeks into your lap, staining your jeans.

You hope he comes to love that new girl, the one he’s sharing a Monster with. You hope she loves him back with all her heart. You hope she spends hours and hours picking through his pieces and reassembling him from the bottom up. You hope she comes to find that his kisses taste like tobacco and novelty, like ink and enigma, like rosewater and ashes and joy. You hope that, to her, those kisses never taste like regret.

You hope that this time, he’s scared. But not so scared he can’t let himself stay.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hq terushima #terushima #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #terushima yuuji x reader

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

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Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself.

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence, now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.”

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition.

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

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ghost-kitty-draws · 3 years ago

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Hidden in the Field

You live in a small cottage in a huge field of various flowers. The cottage was in a very remote place, the nearest city was most likely a few hundred kilometres away. But despite that you didn't mind it. You prefer living alone, away from the polluted "hell".

One morning, as the sun was rising, you were sitting by the fireside. Drinking your tea as you looked out your window. The pastel colors of the sky makes your morning better every day.

Suddenly you hear something fall into your flower field, it sounded like something big. You immediately set down your cup and ran out your home, hoping whatever fell down didn't get severely hurt.

You walked out, the cold breeze flew immediately made your skin freeze and your body shake. Despite that you were determined to find out what's in your garden.

You wandered into the field, soon you found a skeleton with his skull almost half of it was cracked, they wore a dirty blue fluffy jacket.

You rushed to the skeleton in worry, are they hurt? Where did they come from? Questions flood your mind like a tsunami.

You put them aside and carried the injured skeleton, bringing him into your home and setting him on your bed.

As Hours pass, and days flew, the skeleton still haven't woken up. The atmosphere grew more intense as dark thoughts closed it all.. are they dead? What if this was a mistake, and they were once the remains of a human? You questioned your sanity for even showing concern towards the deceased bones, you have never met with them before, yet your conscious says to stay put.

More days blew by while the tension grew stronger, alas, the figure made a sudden movement out of spite. Your hopes grew more to see the skeleton wake up after a long rest, you were relieved and grew a smile to see it was alive. (Thank you for my friend Spice for writing this and the paragraph above :) )

"Oh thank stars you're alright!" You exclaimed, the skeleton looked at you with an odd expression, he seemed suspicious of you. Which was understandable. You were just some random person that brought em into your home. "Who... who are you..?" the skeleton asked, his expression was tensed, so in an attempt to calm them down you introduced yourself. Which worked..! ..kind of..

———

This one was from January lmaooo

#sans au #2 years of writing #writblr #writing #writer #fanfic #sans the skeleton #sans x reader #sans #cross sans #sans oc #snas #horror sans #horrortale

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 4 years ago

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No Rest for the Wicked- HardDom!Dabi X Fem! Brat Reader

Prompt: Dabi just wants to take a nap but everything goes wrong

I asked a friend in one of my discord groups for a random writing prompt when I was up late. Something about this one activated my inner ✨brat✨

Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.3k

Kinks/Warnings: brat taming, degradation, pain play, spanking, belting, mild dacryphilia, bondage, edging and denial, hints of dubcon

Banner made by the always lovely @ladyshinigami!

••••••••••••••

Exhausted.

That was the best way to sum up Dabi’s mood as he trudged through the bar fronting the League’s headquarters. Shigaraki had sent him out on a mission with orders to “stake out and take out” a small band of up-and-coming heroes. It had been easy enough to find them (newbies can never resist being flashy), but making sure they were all disposed of was another matter. A matter only made more complicated by a few rogue civilians that happened to spot him. It had taken him two full days to track everyone down, leaving him covered in blood, soot, and burns. In short, Dabi needed a break.

“Well, well, well.” Came the nasally voice of their fearless leader, “The prodigal son returns! Took you long enough, Dabi. Hope that means you didn’t fuck up the mission.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dabi snaps back, too tired and sore to care about his tone. Not that he’d be any kinder to Shigaraki if he wasn’t. “I did what you asked and left no witnesses. Now piss off before I turn you into a smoldering pile.”

Shigaraki didn’t rise to Dabi’s bait, opting to simply flip him the bird before going back to whatever game console he was currently obsessed with. Dabi returns the gesture in kind, glowering as he disappears behind the bar and into the League’s living quarters. Their warehouse provides more than enough space for everyone to have their own room, and the boss even allowed them to decorate and furnish them as they pleased. Wasn’t that generous? Dabi plods down the hallway to his assigned room and kicks open the door only to find it was occupied. By you.

“Dabi?” You question for a moment before your eyes light up with excitement. “Dabi! You’re back!”

As a fellow Stain devotee, you’d sought out the LOV and been initiated as a member a mere six months ago. And two months later, you’d been initiated into Dabi’s bed. You wouldn’t exactly call yourselves “lovers.” Love was few and far between in a hornet’s nest of villains. But you’d certainly become something more than the occasional lay.

He grunts as he stalks into the room, shedding his coat and boots as he went. Dabi was never big on grand displays of affection. And in his current state, that small show of acknowledgment may as well have been equivalent to a bear hug.

“I missed you.” You chirp back, undeterred by his gruff response. “How was the mission?”

“Long and shitty.” Came his terse reply as he strips off the rest of his clothes and grabs a towel from a nearby wall hook. “I need a fucking shower.”

He wraps the towel around his waist before he sets about searching for body wash and a first aid kit. Greedy eyes roam the plane of his toned torso, eager to touch the scarred and stapled flesh you’d spent many a night mapping out. Before joining the League, you’d never had an opinion one way or the other on touch or physical intimacy. You didn’t dislike it by any means; it was just something people did, fuck buddies or otherwise. But now that you’d shared a bed with Dabi, your perspective had changed. His rough touch was your drug of choice, intoxicating in all the best ways. And with him being gone for almost 72 hours? It was safe to say you were jonesing for a hit.

“Oooh, sounds like fun.” You purr, sprawling out on the mattress in a catlike stretch. “Want me to join you? I think we could use a little… quality time together.”

He snorts derisively at that, straightening up once he’d found his supplies and fixing you with a deep scowl. So pretty even when he’s pissed. You bat your eyelashes in return.

“Don’t get cute, dollface. Once I get cleaned up I’m passing out for the next century.”

Before you can shoot off another coquettish remark, he turns on his heel and marches out the door in the direction of the communal showers. You huff and clamber out of bed to follow him, determined that he wouldn’t get away so easily.

“C’mon Dabi!” You whine, trotting along behind him as he stalks down the hallway. “I haven’t seen you in days! Are you really just gonna give me the cold shoulder?”

“Yup.” He snaps back, shooting you a harsh glare over said shoulder before barging through the bathroom door. From the other side you can hear his bark of “Move it, psycho!” followed by an indignant squeak from whom you can only assume to be Toga. You huff and stamp your foot like a petulant child, turning on your heel to flounce off in the direction of the League’s bar front.

“Bastard.” You seethe under your breath, “Who does he think he is, ignoring me like that? It’s his fault I’m so pent up. If I tried ignoring him when he was all hot and bothered–!”

You pause for a moment as a lightbulb goes off in your head. A single impish thought flashes through your mind and it causes your lips to curl into a Cheshire grin. He wants to play games? You’ll give him games.

You continue your trek into the dimly-lit, woodpandeled speakeasy, a renewed vigor in your stride as you make a beeline for the bar top. Kurogiri is standing behind it as per usual, wiping out a pint glass like the faithful bartender he pretends to be. You sidle up to the bar and place both hands on the oaken surface, adopting a sweet, too-innocent lilt to your voice.

“Kuro-baby.” You purr, the cutesy pet name causing the misty specter to look up from his task. “Can I have a glass of water, please? With lots of ice, if you don’t mind.”

Wordlessly, Kurogiri sets down the glass and picks up a shorter one, using it to scoop up a generous portion of ice from the freezer below before filling it nearly to the brim from the tap. If he has any suspicion of you, he’s very good at hiding it. The same can’t be said for Shigaraki, sitting a few stools down from you and still tapping away at the buttons of his console.

“Fucking with Staples again?” He questions disinterestedly, followed by a hiss of annoyance when the game lets out a series of gunshots. He must have gotten himself killed again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You shoot back airily, swiping the glass from Kurogiri’s outstretched hand and hopping off your own barstool.

“It’s your funeral!” He calls after you, waving you off with one hand. You snicker as you march back into the living quarters, one hand wrapped around the chilled glass and the other flattened over the top to ensure you won’t spill a drop along the way. Soon you find yourself back in front of the bathroom door and, suppressing the urge to giggle, you slowly push through it and into the steamy room beyond. In spite of the hideout’s outward appearance, the place is surprisingly clean and well-kempt (all thanks to den mother Kurogiri). Two sinks stand against the left-hand side of the wall, with two doors opposite them leading to the toilets. Next to the sinks are the showers: three open-faced, tile cubes barely covered by flimsy plastic curtains. Toga is standing in front of the nearest sink, wearing a skimpy pair of Hello Kitty pajamas and washing the blood and goop from her latest transformation out of her navy, pleated skirt. She looks up at you when you enter and you quickly put one finger to your lips, smirking as you point between the glass and the running shower beyond. Toga lets loose a sadistic giggle of her own before hastily shushing herself when you hear Dabi’s bark of “Pipe down out there!”

As you move past her, you can see her mouth the words, “You’re so dead, big sis.”

You can feel a jolt of adrenaline course through your veins as you sneak up to the edge of the tiled wall separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom, the glass in your hand shaking briefly. A small amount of water sloshes over the rim and spatters onto the floor, the sound barely overshadowed by the shower.

“Doll?”

His low, rumbling voice coming from the other side of the curtain sends another shiver down your spine.

“What are you up to out there?” He growls dangerously, as if he has a sixth sense when it comes to you and your shenanigans. For just a moment, the rational part of your brain takes over and makes you question your actions. Dabi’s already in a foul mood, and getting worse by the second by the sound of it. Maybe if you hold off and behave like a good girl–

Your body seems to move of its own accord. The next thing you know, the contents of the glass are sailing through the air, arching high over the plastic curtain rod and landing with a messy splat onto your unwitting victim on the other side.

“What the fu–!” Dabi’s curse is cut off by yours and Toga’s mad giggling as you sprint out of the bathroom and down the hallway. Passing by a very confused-looking Spinner, you dart inside Dabi’s room and slam the door, locking it for good measure. Seconds later, he’s pounding on it, using enough force that you’re convinced it might splinter and break off its hinges.

“Open this door right now and make this easier on yourself!” He roars, furiously jiggling the handle.

You let him pound away for a few more seconds, in part to allow yourself time to catch your breath but mostly to delay the unenviable punishment. With a deep, steadying breath, you plaster on a mildly amused expression, undo the lock, and pull open the door. Dabi is visibly seething, water dripping from his hair and cascading in rivulets down his toned chest onto the towel slung low on his hips. His brows are knitted together in rage, turquoise eyes flashing dangerously while one hand is still raised in a fist.

“Oh hey, babe. Done with the shower al–?”

His hands are around your throat before you can blink, your sassy remark devolving into a high-pitched squeak.

“You little bitch.” He spits at you, forcibly backing you further into the room as he advances. “Was that your idea of a joke?”

“N-no.” You gasp in response, voice slightly raspy from the pressure on your jugular. “I just thought–“

“Thought what exactly?” Dabi growls, kicking the door shut behind him with one foot before giving your shoulders a hard shove and pushing you onto the bed. You land with a slight bounce, the momentum giving you just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Well?” He hisses, venom dripping from the word as he glares down at you.

“I was worried.” You start slowly, tone almost loving as you gaze up at him with big, doe eyes. “You seemed so tense when you got back. And don’t think I didn’t notice those new burns on your arms. So I thought, since the mission was so hard on you…”

Your face suddenly splits into a shit-eating grin.

“I thought you might need to cool down for a minute.”

Dabi blinks for a second, seemingly struck dumb by your remark. And then his hands are back on you in an instant, roughly flipping you over to lie chest-down with your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Of all the stupid–“

Your shirt is ripped over your head from behind.

“Immature–“

There goes the bra, clasps and straps lost to a wildfire of blue flames as it falls away from your body in a charred heap.

“Bratty little schemes.”

Your leggings and panties are harshly yanked down, slipped off, and discarded into some unknown corner of the room. You feel cool air hit your legs and backside, moments before a harsh slap lands on your right cheek. With a yelp, you cast a wide-eyed glance over your shoulder at the menacing presence behind you; a pillar of rage and sadistic urges looming over your naked form.

“You wanted my attention that badly, dollface? Well I’m sorry to say you’ve got it now.”

Before you can react beyond a pained, needy whimper, Dabi hooks his right arm under your thighs to haul you up and onto the bed. He lays his full weight across your back and reaches around and underneath the farthest edge of the bed to produce a simple, black cuff, attached to the nylon spreader running along the underside of the mattress. Giving it a few cursory tugs, he grabs ahold of your right wrist and yanks it towards the corresponding corner, attaching the device with practiced speed and precision. You continue to writhe and pant below him, muttering a litany of curses and “no’s” as he does the same to the opposite side. You’re now bound by both wrists, unable to do more than thrash wildly on the mattress in a humiliating, spread eagle position.

“Seems like you need a reminder of who’s in charge around here.” He snarls in your ear, pushing himself off of you and marching over to his discarded pile of clothing. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric, followed by the telltale clink of metal on metal that makes your eyes go wide.

“Y-you wouldn’t dare…” You start breathlessly, just before the first blinding sting of leather greets your exposed skin, right at the juncture where the soft swell of your ass meets the tender flesh of your thighs.

“That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dabi says mockingly, his tone dripping with false pity and saccharine sweetness as he takes his place at the edge of the bed once more. “I don’t have any problems dealing with a mouthy… little… brat like you.”

His words are punctuated by three more vicious blows, this time striking the meatiest part of your ass and sending the pliant flesh jiggling. The metal rivets in his belt only add to the pain, biting into your rapidly heating flesh and causing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. Shifting your hips in a futile attempt to get away from Dabi and his newfound torture device, you roll partly onto your side and look over at him with watery, pleading eyes.

“S-sir… Dabi, please!” You sputter out, voice already wavering as your resolve crumbles beneath the stinging sensation. But Dabi’s not in the mood for bargaining. Instead, he growls as he wraps an arm around your waist and shoves his left knee underneath your belly, hiking your ass further into the air.

“Hold still!” He barks at you, another crack of his belt sending a fresh wave of searing pain along your already raw skin. You scream in agony, unable to do more than wriggle and squirm against his hold.

“Start counting, brat.” He demands huskily, your only warning before the next punishing spank meets your burning flesh.

“One!” You gasp out, “I’m sorry! Please–!”

Another blow lands, somehow harder than all the others, revisiting the spot where ass and thigh meet and causing you to wail in pain.

“Too late for apologies, dollface. The only thing I wanna hear from that slutty little mouth is counting. Understand me?”

The arm looped around your waist tightens in warning, and you hiccup before sputtering out a shaky, “T-two.”

“That’s more like it.”

He continues spanking you at a steady pace, the only respite coming when he pauses to hear you choke out the next number. By ten strokes, you’re bawling. By fifteen, you’re practically brain dead, unable to quell the sobs that wrack through your body or think beyond the next count. He mercifully stops at twenty, dropping the belt and loosening his own grip on you. All you can focus on is the burning pain radiating out from your tanned backside, sobbing as you bury your face into the pillow below you for comfort. Dabi’s own breathing is heavy and ragged, and he takes a few deep, measured breaths to steady himself. After a few moments, that hand that once held his belt is carefully laid on the curve of your ass, and you gasp both at the gentle touch and the shock of prickly pain it brings. Judging by the way he strokes the heated flesh, you’re sure the silver eyelets have left a series of bruises behind.

“S-s-sir.” You blubber, “I’m... I…”

“Shhhh, quiet down.” He says softly, voice uncharacteristically tender as he runs his hand along the width of your heated cheeks. “It’s over now. You did so well.”

The unexpected praise makes you whimper beneath his affections, devolving into a quiet moan as his hand travels even lower, fingers coming to rest at the entrance to your heated core. He begins to gently massage at your folds, middle finger slipping inside to find you impossibly wet and clenching around the digit.

“You filthy little thing…” He breathes out on a chuckle, “Are you really that turned on by me beating the hell out of your cute little ass?”

His finger delves deeper, pussy eagerly sucking him in as you keen below him. His free hand begins to lightly scratch up and down your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of each careful caress. Without thinking, you shift further onto your knees, fighting through the pain to push against his hand.

“Please, Sir.” You moan wantonly, “More. Please.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi slips a second finger inside of you and begins to languidly pump them in and out. Pain and pleasure meld together in a sinful symphony, pants and whimpers coming from you as you rock your abused body against his own scarred flesh. He adjusts the angle and crooks his fingers downwards, curling them just shy of that sensitive bundle of nerves you know would have you seeing stars. Your back arches as you hungrily push against him, dignity forgotten in the face of pure, carnal desire.

“Getting impatient, are we?” He growls teasingly, fingers suddenly slipping out from your sopping core and wrenching a high-pitched whine from the back of your throat. He moves off the bed entirely, ordering you to stay put as he walks over to the nearby dresser and opens up the top drawer. Like the cuffs would allow you to do anything otherwise.

“Ah, here we go.” He says after a few seconds of rummaging, striding back over to the bed and taking up residence behind you. You feel the mattress dip under his weight seconds before his hands find your hips, roughly hauling them upwards and forcing your face further into the pillows. You shriek as he grabs ahold of your left cheek and squeezes harshly, pain shooting up your spine like a bolt of summer lightning. Something hard and cool prods at your quivering entrance, briefly brushing against your clit before being plunged inside of you. The sudden stretch feels at once too much and deeply satiating, sending burning, pleasurable heat licking across your oversensitized nerves. Once the toy is sunk to the hilt, Dabi gives a short grunt of satisfaction before sliding off the bed and circling around to lean over your quivering form. You turn your head to face him and he smirks at the sight of your fucked out expression: eyes red and puffy, cheeks streaked with half-dried tears, lips swollen from the bluntness of your own teeth.

“Aren’t you a sight?” He hums lowly, brushing away an errant strand of hair to plant a condescending kiss to your temple. “Such a needy little slut for me.”

With another dark chuckle, Dabi pats your cheek, straightens up, and turns towards the door.

“Wait!” You squeak out, squirming against your restraints as you watch his retreating back. “You’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“That’s the plan, dollface.” He shoots back, casting you a wicked grin over his left shoulder as he pulls the door open. “At least until I finish my shower.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #dabi x reader #Dabi #mha smut #mha x reader #tw: noncon #tw: pain play

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babylooneytoonz · 4 years ago

Text

mr. shelby's secretary [CEO AU]

[GIF by @maskingfragility]

— pairing: Modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

— summary : Prompt request 1) “Can you shut up for once in your life?” 2) “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.” 3)“You’re insane,” “You love me,” “Not right now I don’t.” 4) "I think you might be my soulmate," as requested by @sighonahurricane and @screechingexpertpruneneck [ Hope you like it. I decided to club both the requests into one as the prompts were almost the same ones.🤍]

— warnings: none

[Masterlist]

You had been an exceptional student, all through school, then all through college and then had begun working for one of the most famous firms in London. Due to unforeseen circumstances, when your father passed away due to a terminal illness, you had to quit your job in London and move to Birmingham to take care of your mother.

Birmingham was an altogether different world, atleast as compared to London, but it was a good change for you. Even luckier for you was the fact that just weeks into moving to Birmingham City, you interviewed for a secretary position for CEO of Shelby Brothers LTD, Thomas Shelby and you had gotten the job.

You had been now working for him for over three months now, but the journey had definitely not been easy. You still remembered how your first day at work had been an absolute disaster. You had arrived on time, at 9 am. You still had an hour to go before Tommy entered his office at 10 am, and there were a few stacks of papers that you had to clear.

Before starting your work, you had decided to get yourself a mug of coffee to boost up your day but while you were at the pantry, sitting and sipping your coffee, your phone beeped. When you looked at the message, colour drained from your face.

Thomas Shelby had a meeting at 10, and thus, he had decided he would come in early, and he hadn't found you in your adjoining cabin, and neither were the papers from his room that he wanted gone were actually gone. The colour drained from your face when you saw his text— in three words did he write— get in here, ASAP.

The hearing that you received from Tommy that day, you doubted if you had retained your job after the first day, but strangely, Tommy didn't fire you. That was the only time you actually made him angry though and things slowly changed after that. Thomas Shelby began relying on you more and more as the days passed. He even took your opinions, or let you select the suits he was going to wear on events, without even expressing any doubt on you.

For Tommy, you were like a breath of fresh air in times he needed it the most. You were exceptionally good at your work, but what he liked secretly about you was the fact that you were good at handling him— be it his anger, that you took almost gracefully, without even bothering to spite him back. You listened to him scream and yell at you, but you never lost your own temper. Or be it the recognition of his tiny needs, like when he was in a dire need of coffee.

Tommy would be lying now if he said that he didn't need you; he was now completely dependant on you. Everyday, when he came to work, the first thing he looked at was your smiling face through the glass panels of your adjoining cabin, before he disappeared into his office, and there lay his mug of piping hot black coffee without sugar, and a sandwich, or pancakes, you knowing well aware that the man came to office on an empty stomach. He would call you into his cabin atleast fifty times in a day.

Few months into you working for Mr. Shelby, you were finally growing to despise the man less and less, and learn to get accustomed to his cold outer exterior, and get warmed up to the minutest reflections of the gentleness he hid inside of him.

Tommy was getting impatient, as he leaned against his mahogany desk, his shirt rolled up by the sleeves up to his elbows as he rested the elbows against the surface of the desk. A lit cigarette rested in his left hand, as he stared at the rain clogged glass window in his office. It was raining heavily, and he wondered if it was the weather that had you actually running almost two hours late when you never were late.

He swiped his palm over his face, worry gnawed at the pit of his stomach. He knew you weren't like that. In fact, you were one of the most punctual person he had actually met. He stood up, dabbing the lit end of the cigarette into his ashtray, before he grabbed his coat and walked out of his office. Mary, one of the employees who were friends with you, was outside, talking to one of the interns.

"Mary? Have you heard from [Y/N]? She isn't in yet," Tommy asked, and the woman turned, her eyes almost widening for Tommy seldom spoke to anyone in the office, unless required.

"Mr. Shelby, uh, sir, I don't know. I haven't seen her in today, I was also wondering—" she began, but before she could complete her sentence, impatient Tommy had cut her off.

"Mary, can you go through the company records and give me her address?"

"Definitely, Mr. Shelby," the woman drawled, as she hunched over her system, her fingers tapping against the keypad as she pulled out your address from the company records. She noted the address down on a slip of paper, and looked up at him, "Mr. Shelby, I can ask someone to check on her if you'd like? Maybe due to the weather, her car broke down."

"It's okay, Mary, I'm already headed out, just hand me the address," he impatiently threw out his palm, and the woman placed the parchment in his hands, knowing well as to not say anything else. Tommy turned around and slowly began walking out of the building towards the elevator and pressed the button.

The rains were not going to die down anytime soon, that was something that Tommy noted as he brought the car to a halt outside the address that Mary had handed him. He squinted his eyes, eyeing the plain looking building that stood in front of him, eyeing the first floor that you occupied. He wondered if you had already left for he couldn't see your car anywhere in sight.

Finally, he pulled out his umbrella from the back seat of the car, and stepped out into the lashing rains, dashing through the puddles towards your apartment where an elderly woman was at the door, shielded from the rains underneath the front porch.

"Can I help you?" The woman said in a kind voice, as she moved out of the way, and let Tommy fix himself underneath the porch to find a shelter from the rains.

"I'm looking for,uh, Miss [Y/N]. She works for me," Tommy muttered, under his breath.

"Oh, dear. You're Thomas Shelby? The CEO of Shelby Brothers LTD?" The woman's eyes began glistening with excitement and Tommy nodded, his eyebrows creasing into a hint of a frown. He wasn't here for a fangirl moment.

"Is she here?" Tommy's impatience was a good enough answer for the woman, who nodded and immediately informed him that you had already left for work over an hour ago.

This did nothing to cease the worry pooling inside of him. If you had already left for work, then why weren't you in office? He pulled out his phone, placing his palm on the screen as though shielding it from the woman's unwanted, prying eyes, hoping you had left him a message but you hadn't.

"Thank you," he finally muttered, as he ran out into the rain again, and this time, he didn't even bother using the umbrella, letting himself get drenched from the porch to the car.

Turning the ignition on, he slowly pulled the car on the road, and he started driving in a slow pace, his eyes on the road in front of him.

As if someone had been listening in on his thoughts secretly and had decided to act on it, Tommy brought the car to an abrupt half, applying the brakes. There you were, right in front of his eyes, and Tommy couldn't help but let himself smile warmly, after ages.

From what he could see, it was clear what had taken you so long. You had your heels in your hands, your body was drenched in the rain, your hair sticking to your face. Your knees had mud on it, but that didn't deter you from running about the muddy road, helping the elderlies out of the bus that had broken down.

He saw, as you took the shopping bags from one of the older men, and gave your arm to him that he took and you helped him step out of the abandoned vehicle, and you helped him cross the muddy road, where the tyres of the bus had gotten stuck.

He watched you for a few minutes, leaning back against the car seat, his hand flying to his wet hair. After a few seconds, he decided to quietly head back to the office, without even letting you know that he had seen you.

About an hour later, you rushed into your office. You had managed to head back home and change into a fresh set of clothing, and put your dead phone on charge. Now you were back, and your heart was strumming inside your chest with fear, you knew Tommy would be mad— very mad.

Slowly, you brought your fisted palm to his door and knocked twice.

"Come in," Tommy called out from the inside; he sounded much calmer than what you had expected him to be, and this made you frown. You had expected him to be snarling. Timidly, you made your way up to his desk, your fingers nervously toying with each other as you looked at him. He had his laptop in front of him, and his fingers skimmed over the keypad. He gave you one glance, and looked back at the screen once again. His ignorance made your heart churn.

"Mr. Shelby?" You asked.

"Yes, [Y/N]?" Tommy looked at you, through his round frames.

"Aren't you angry I'm late?" You blurted, mentally cursing yourself, silently.

He looked at you, amused. Your innocence made his heart flutter but he wasnt going to admit it anytime soon. He noticed your body posture, you were standing like a meek little lamb, afraid of him. He stood up from the leather chair he was sitting on and placed his glasses on his desk, before he moved around his desk to where you were. He then fixed himself directly in front of you and gave you a smile, "Why would I be angry? Go take an off today, [Y/N]. You deserve it."

You were confused by his sudden behaviour but you dared not complain, or question him lest he changed his mind. You gave him a haphazard smile as you dashed out of his office, weirded out by the change in his behaviour.

It was Saturday night, and it meant staying up late with a good Netflix series on, and some good bingewatching and munching on snacks for you. Your mother had already gone to bed, for she was an early sleeper. You had managed to sneak into the kitchen, and heat up the leftovers from lunch; the pasta your mum had prepared for you.

You turned your laptop on, letting it rest against your belly as you began browsing through the newest Netflix collection, trying to settle on a movie, when there was a buzz in your phone. You squinted your eyes when your phone started glowing. Your hand reached out as you grabbed it and began reading the SMS from your boss.

Thomas: be at Richard's at 7 in the eve. Got some really imp clients coming over. will be needing you to take the notes.

You frowned, there went your Sunday weekend plans down the drain; not that you had any solid plans, other than Netflix.

Sunday came by faster than you had imagined it to be, and you were standing in front of your wardrobe, weighing the different outfits that you had to fix a suitable one for the dinner at Richard's. Richard's was one of the posher restaurants, and you wanted to look your best, even if it was just business.

Finally, even though your bedroom looked like a typhoon had occurred inside your room, you were able to pick out a dress. It was just the right amount of professional, and casual. It was navy blue, the neck cut deep enough but yet, it wasn't trashy one bit. Once you had changed into it, you admired your form in the mirror, secretly content by the way it hung across your curves, ecen accentuating your curves. You couldn't help but secretly think of Thomas Shelby's reaction when he saw you in this dress.

You were startled when your phone started ringing, pulling you out of your not so in innocent thoughts about your own boss. When you saw his name flash on your lockscreen, you couldn't help but frown. Reluctantly, you tapped on the talk icon, flinging the phone to your ears, "Yes, Mr. Shelby?"

"Grey or black? Red tie or navy blue? I can't fucking decide what to wear. Why is it the fucking weekend [Y/N]. I don't fucking know what to wear," he sounded exasperated and worked up on the other side of the phone and you couldn't help but chuckle silently, silently enjoying this. You knew this would happen.

"The grey with the blue tie, Mr. Shelby, you can make any girl crazy in the grey tux of yours," you smiled, aimlessly drawing your fingers through your hair. You didn't know how you got that courage to openly flirt with him, but you didn't stop yourself from doing it. What suprised you was the fact that Tommy only let you do it. After a minute of silence, he hummed and you could hear him practically pull his tux off the hanger and he murmured, "the grey one it is then."

You kept the phone to your ear, not wanting to disconnect even though he wasn't speaking to you. Oddly enough, even in the silence that lingered on that call, you felt a sense on intimacy, something that you didn't want to let go off, as you grabbed your lipstick and using your free hand, began applying it delicately to your lips.

"What are you wearing?" Tommy's voice reached your ears, and you couldn't help but bite into the insides of your cheeks, feeling giddy in your chest.

"Navy blue dress I wore at the office party, Mr. Shelby. I can change if you want, it's a little too much, don't you think?" You nervously babbled.

"No, keep it on. It compliments my tie."

You smiled upon listening to his words, and just like that, without a parting, Tommy disconnected, sliding his phone into his pocket, his fingers toying with the fabric of his navy blue tie. Even if he was bent of wearing the red one silently, he was now going to switch to the blue one, just because you were wearing blue.

"Miss, do you have a reservation?" The manager asked you, and you smiled courteously.

"Yes, it should be under a Mr. Thomas Shelby?" You replied, and the man immediately nodded and his eyes began scanning through the contents of the register in front of him.

"Ah, you must be Miss [Y/N]. Please follow me, we are delighted to have you," he slowly turned away from you, and you began following him through the open air restaurant, where archaic white gazebos stood tall, adorned with fairy lights, and inside the gazebos were comfortable tables and dine in facilities.

Tommy was finally in sight. He was at the farthest gazebo that stood directly beside the narrow stream, that shone due to the moonlight falling on it.

It wasn't Tommy that captured your attention though, it was the woman dressed in a beautiful red evening dress, her perfectly toned legs covered in sheer black stockings. Her long black hair fell lusciously over her shoulders as she threw back her head and laughed at something Thomas probably said. What made you a tiny bit of jealous was the fact that the two of them looked like they were long time friends; Tommy rarely smiled, and especially never in the open.

You cleared your throat a little too loudly and Tommy turned towards you, and so did the woman in the red dress. You couldn't help but think how beautiful the woman was.

"Tatiana, this is my secretary [Y/N]. She will be going through the final papers and the other formalities," Tommy blinked, his palm ghosting the low of your back as he guided you into an empty chair and you sat down, smiling at Tatiana.

"[Y/N], this is my friend, and soon to be business partner, Tatiana Petrovna," You watched from the corner of your eye as Tommy leaned towards her and he placed his hand on her thigh. You grabbed the fabric of your dress, awkwardly balling the fabric along your fists, although shielded by the table.

The business meeting lasted for an hour, and by the time the three of you were done, half of the restaurant had gotten empty.

"It was a pleasure meeting you once again, Thomas, and even a greater pleasure doing business with you," she gave Tommy her hand and they shook it. You noted how the handshake lingered for a little longer than it was supposed to. Thomas stood up, but you kept seated, as you watched the woman turn away and began strutting down the garden path, towards a massive black SUV parked by the other side.

After a minute of silence, Tommy sighed and he sat down, his earlier jolly expression having dissipated into thin air. He pulled out a cigarette box from the pocket of his tux and brought it up to his lips, flicking you a quick glance.

"You alright?"

"Me? Oh I am more than alright, Mr. Shelby. It's a lovely night, and I'm sitting at one of the loveliest places in Birmingham, with such a lovely company," you deadpanned, giving him a stare down.

"You don't look happy to be here, love," he brought the lit cigarette to his lips, inhaling smoke from it as he eyed you carefully. One of the waiters stepped forward, clearing his throat and you saw that he had a bottle of wine in his hands. Tommy blinked and motioned to the waiter to fill up the glasses and once he had left, his fingers curled against his glass and he lifted it, taking a sip of it.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby, I am delighted to be here, don't you see that? Can we leave?" You arched forward, letting your elbows rest against the table, your glass of wine laying untouched.

Tommy parted his lips, as though he wanted to say something but before words came out, he pressed his lips shut and stood up, grabbing his coat that hung from the back of his chair, "Alright, I'll drop you home yeah? Come on."

Tommy and you quietly walked back to his car and you got into the passenger's seat as Tommy got into the drivers. He slowly pulled the car off the driveway and began driving towards your apartment.

You were still fuming; raging from the inside as you kept glancing at the silhouettes of the buildings passing you by.

"What is the matter with you, ey?" Tommy suddenly turned towards you, lowering the speed of the car and moving it to the side so he could slowly bring the vehicle to a halt.

"Nothing is. Can we please keep moving, Mr. Shelby? I don't have all night," you hissed venomously at him and he just ran his hand through his hair, exasperated. He didn't know what had gotten into you suddenly.

He suddenly reached for your arm and pulled you forcefully towards him, his eyes gazing into yours, "Will you answer me? What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Oh, nothing's the matter with me, Mr. Shelby. I don't get why you had me over that wretched little romantic dinner as a third wheel when there weren't even enough notes to make," you blurted out the entire sentence in one go, firing the words at him so fast that it took him a minute to digest them.

"Wait, romantic?" He tilted his head slightly, and his index came to rest on his chin for a second before he sat back against the car seat again, "you think me and Tatiana..?"

"Don't spill your romantic or your sexual endeavours in front of me, Mr. Shelby, Im just a lowly secretary," you fumed, and Tommy couldn't help but feel his lips twitch in amusement at how adorably cute you looked when you were angry and jealous.

"Well, now to think of it, eh, we did have some good fucks a few years back," Tommy muttered, in a low voice. Although he knew this would most probably not end very well, but a devil inside of him was already rising, and your jealousy had given birth to a sudden desire in him to have you spill everything you felt for him to him.

You gasped, your jaw dropping as you turned to him, studying his face. Your hand flew to the car lock, and you unlocked it, immediately stepping out of the vehicle, and Tommy cursed under his breath when he realized that he had probably taken it too far. By the time, he stepped out after you, you had already drawn your phone out, and you were trying to book an Uber when he snatched your phone.

"Get into the fucking car, [Y/N]."

"Give me my phone back, Mr. Shelby, I am not in the mood to do this," you threw out your hand, nudging him to hand you your phone.

He was ready to give you back your phone but before he could, his thumb mistakenly pressed on to the power button, and your phone lit up, your cheeks turning a scarlet red when he saw your lockscreen that had his photo on it.

"Wait, am I your lockscreen?” he looked at you smugly, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the sight of it. Great job done [Y/N].

"You weren't supposed to see that," you whispered, tonguing the insides on your cheeks, flustered.

This time he gave you a smile that was gentler than what he had ever given you. He handed you your phone back, and decided not to tease you about the lockscreen.

"Get into the car, [Y/N], please?" He looked into your eyes, his eyes beckoning yours to listen, and you groaned, nodding. He opened the car door for you once again, and quietly you sat down inside, crossing your arms over your chest.

It was as if he knew that you were in no mood to talk, because he didn't force you to. Quietly, he manoeuvred the vehicle through the cuts and turns and you let your head rest against the windowpane. Within seconds, you were drifting into a light sleep.

About ten minutes later, Tommy pled up on your driveway, but even the car coming to a halt wasn't enough to break your slumber. He slowly turned to look at you, and the sight of you was enough to melt his heart. Reluctantly he brought his shaky palm up to the side of your face as he pushed your hair off the side of it, his fingers gentle against you. You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering awake as Tommy smiled to himself, whispering, "I think you might be my soulmate, eh, if there is a concept of one. I'd like to believe you're my fucking soulmate." It was so low, you couldn't hear any of it.

"We're here," he announced, louder and clearer this time and you took this as a hint to get the fuck out of his car.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby, I'll see you at work tomorrow," hurriedly you got out of the car and before Tommy could utter another word, you ran down the side of the apartment towards the side staircase that led to your first floor apartment.

Tommy kept watching as you saw you cash up the flight of stairs, struggling to fish out your bunch of house keys from your purse. He watched as you unlocked the front door and stepped in, hurriedly slamming the door shut.

He kept sitting in the car, and finally turned the ignition on.

"Fuck," he cursed as he turned the ignition off, pulled the car keys out and got out of the car. With big steps, he strode towards the side staircase, from where you had just ran up a few seconds back and reached your doorstep, bringing himself to ring the bell. He waited nervously, tapping the wall awkwardly with his fingers until you opened the door.

He pushed himself inside the minute you opened the door, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Why are you here?" You bit back on your words, trembling slightly. He could see that your eyes were red and puffy, and that you had been crying.

"Were you crying love?" He asked, trying to reach for you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you towards him.

"You're insane," you whispered, your eyes planted to his lips, but you dared not look up and look into his eyes.

Gently, he let go of your wrist, and instead, placed his palm on the low of your back to hold you steady in his arms, "You love me." He rasped, in a low voice that caused your lips to part.

"Not right now I don't, Mr. Shelby," you spat at him, feeling your eyes start getting cloudy again. To be fair, you were feeling stupid, and embarassed at yourself, for reacting this way, showing him how weak and vulnerable you were, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't stop thinking of Tatiana and Tommy, and the more you did, the more angrier you got. You looked away.

"Look at me, love," Tommy chastised you, placing his hand on the base of your chin as he tried lifting your face up, but you dodged his hand and glared at him,"You're not my boss in here, Mr. Shelby. This is my house."

He gave you a tight lipped smile, and his palm reached out to cup your face, his fingers tracing the outline of your lips. He parted his lips, and fluttered his eyes close, letting an exhale out, before fluttering his blues open again, "this fire within you will be the fucking death of me someday, woman." You curled your lips slightly, licking the insides of your mouth and your nostrils flared, "Shouldn't you be with your business partner? Shagging the fuck out of her? You seem to be at the wrong apartment."

Tommy growled, pushing you to the wall; his knee coming to press against the wall, between the space of your legs. His hands fixed on either side of your head, barring you from escaping.

"Can you shut up for once in your life? I did not fuck Tatiana, ever, yeah?" He looked down into your eyes, and you glared into his, wondering if he was lying.

"You.. didn't?"

"I didn't. And I don't intend to, in the future," he said, in his low husky voice. You fluttered your eyes shut and slowly, like a doe, lifted your face so your lips were now in line with his. You parted your lips, waiting for him to kiss you. He took the hint, a ghost of a smirk forming against his lips as he brought the distance to a close, his plump lips pressing against yours as he kissed you by the wall, "now let's not talk of her now yeah? I would rather spend my night in your bed than stand out here, talking about a woman that doesn't interest me."

"then what interests you?" You smirked.

"You do. You interest me, love."

Your cheeks hurt and your eyes leaked water; tears of happiness flew openly from your eyes. You were dressed in a beautiful black evening gown and your son, Charlie, held your palm, his eyes everywhere but on his father as he walked up to the podium to where the microphone was.

You knelt down gracefully, tickling your son lightly on his Adam's apple, and murmured, "Look, Charlie, your daddy is up there, would you look?"

"Dada!" Charlie babbled, and you hoisted him up and fixed him on your hip as your eyes met Tommy's and he gave you a nod, his eyes twinkling.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming. You see tonight, eh, is a very special night for me. And I am pleased to announce my endeavours first with you—" He found your eyes again, and you smiled at him, wondering what he was referring to. Ever since you found out you were pregnant with Charlie, two years back, you had decided to quit your job.

"I am pleased to announce [Y/N] and Charles Shelby Center for senior citizens," Tommy turned slightly so he could move out of the way and a huge projector began showing the architectural designs of a massive modern looking building on the screen.

Your heart swelled with pride as you watched your husband gracefully walk down the stairs. People came and greeted him, shaking hands with him, and he stopped momentarily to greet them back. You tickled Charlie's belly as you began striding towards where he was.

Tommy threw out his hand towards you and you gladly accepted, as he pulled you to his side, planting a quick kiss on Charlie's forehead. You lifted your neck up high and you and Tommy posed for a few pictures, and soon the cameras left you alone with him. He leaned closer to you and smiled, "Did you like it, love? I've been planning it since I saw you that day, four years back, helping out in the rain. You were beautiful. "

"You saw that, Tommy? Is that why you didn't even scold me for being late?" You gasped, and he smirked, nodding.

"No wonder I kept thinking that something was wrong with you, Mr. Shelby."

He suddenly turned around and his right arm came to rest on the low of your back as he pulled you to him. On one hip, you adjusted your son, who was now struggling to get into his daddy's arms; you placed your free hand on Tommy's chest and patted it before grabbing his tie, "If there was something bloody wrong with me, why would you still choose me as your husband and then gift me with a lovely boy?"

"Well, because, Mr. Shelby, I love you, and wouldn't trade our family for anything."

#modern! tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #ceo! tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders ceo au #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction

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blackcatrph · 4 years ago

Text

** evermore sentence starters.

willow.

“ i'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night. ”

“ you cut through like a knife. ”

“ i never would have known from the look on your face. ”

“ the more that you say, the less I know. ”

“ i'm begging for you to take my hand. ”

“ life was a willow and it bent right to your wind. ”

“ i could feel you sneakin' in. ”

“ you are a mythical thing. ”

“ i come back stronger than a '90s trend. ”

“ wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark. ”

“ show me the places where the others gave you scars. ”

“ anywhere else is hollow. ”

champagne problems.

“ you booked the night train for a reason. ”

“ bustling crowds or silent sleepers, not sure which is worse. ”

“ i dropped your hand while dancing. ”

“ your mom's ring is in your pocket, my picture is in your wallet. ”

“ your heart was glass and I dropped it. ”

“ you told your family for a reason. ”

“ you couldn't keep it in. ”

“ no one's celebrating. ”

“ your hometown skeptics called it champagne problems. ”

“ love slipped beyond your reaches. ”

" this dorm was once a madhouse. "

“ don't think we'll say that word again. ”

“ sometimes you just don't know the answer. ”

" she would've made such a lovely bride. ”

“ what a shame she's fucked in the head. ”

“ she'll patch up your tapestry that I shred. ”

gold rush.

“ eyes like sinking ships on waters, so inviting I almost jump in. ”

“ i don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch. ”

“ everybody wants you. ”

“ everybody wonders what it would be like to love you. ”

“ i don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bones crush. ”

“ what must it be like to grow up that beautiful ? ”

“ i see me padding across your wooden floors. ”

“ it fades into the gray of my day-old tea. ”

“ it could never be. ”

“ my mind turns your life into folklore. ”

“ i can't dare to dream about you anymore. ”

“ the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure. ”

'tis the damn season.

“ If I wanted to know who you were hanging with while I was gone, I would have asked you. ”

“ it's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass. but I felt it when I passed you. ”

“ there's an ache in you. ”

“ but if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me. ”

“ you could call me "babe" for the weekend. ”

“ the road not taken looks real good now. ”

“ the holidays linger like bad perfume. ”

“ you can run, but only so far. ”

“ i escaped it too. ”

“ remember how you watched me leave ? ”

“ now I'm missing your smile. ”

“ hear me out, we could just ride around. ”

“ i won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay. ”

“ i wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm faking. ”

“ the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own. ”

“ we could call it even, even though I'm leavin'. ”

tolerate it.

“ i notice everything you do or don't do. ”

“ you're so much older and wiser. ”

“ if it's all in my head tell me now. ”

“ tell me I've got it wrong somehow. ”

“ i know my love should be celebrated, but you tolerate it. ”

“ i greet you with a battle hero's welcome. ”

“ i take your indiscretions all in good fun. ”

“ while you were out building other worlds, where was I? ”

“ where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? ”

“ i made you my temple, my mural, my sky. ”

“ i'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. ”

“ always taking up too much space or time. ”

“ you assume I'm fine. ”

“ what would you do if I break free and leave us in ruins. ”

“ took this dagger in me and removed it. ”

no body, no crime.

“ he did it. ”

" it smells like infidelity. ”

“ that ain't my merlot on his mouth. ”

“ i think I'm gonna call him out. ”

" i think he did it, but I just can't prove it. "

“ no body, no crime. ”

“ i ain't lettin' up until the day I die. ”

“ his mistress moved in. ”

“ there ain't no doubt. ”

“ somebody's gotta catch him out. ”

“ i've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene. ”

“ they think she did it, but they just can't prove it. ”

“ i wasn't lettin' up until the day he died. ”

happiness.

“ i see this for what it is. ”

“ all the years I've given Is just shit we're dividin' up. ”

“ i can't face reinvention. ”

“ i haven't met the new me yet. ”

“ there'll be happiness after you. ”

“ there was happiness because of you. ”

“ there is happiness past the blood and bruises. ”

“ haunted by the look in my eyes. ”

“ leave it all behind. ”

“ tell me, when did your winning smile begin to look like a smirk? ”

“ when did all our lessons start to look like weapons? ”

“ i hope she'll be your beautiful fool. ”

“ no, I didn't mean that. ”

“ i can't see facts through all of my fury. ”

“ there'll be happiness after me. ”

“ in our history, across our great divide, there is a glorious sunrise dappled with the flickers of light. ”

“ i can't make it go away by making you a villain. ”

“ no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you. ”

“ now my eyes leak acid rain on the pillow where you used to lay your head. ”

“ after giving you the best I had, tell me what to give after that? ”

dorothea.

“ do you ever stop and think about me?”

“ you got shiny friends since you left town. ”

“ i got nothing but well-wishes for you. ”

“ this place is the same as it ever was. ”

“ it's never too late to come back to my side. ”

“ the stars in your eyes shined brighter in Tupelo. ”

“ and if you're ever tired of bеing known for who you know, you'll always know me. ”

“ you'rе a queen sellin' dreams. ”

“ they all want to be you. ”

“ are you still the same soul I met under the bleachers? ”

“ i guess I'll never know. ”

coney island.

“ break my soul in two looking for you. ”

“ if I can't relate to you anymore then who am I related to? ”

“ did I close my fist around something delicate? ”

“ did I shatter you? ”

“ sorry for not making you my centerfold. ”

“ lost again with no surprises. ”

“ it gets colder and colder when the sun goes down. ”

“ what's a lifetime of achievement If I pushed you to the edge? ”

“ you were too polite to leave me. ”

“ will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care? ”

“ sorry for not winning you an arcade ring. ”

“ were you waiting at our old spot? ”

“ did I leave you hanging every single day? ”

“ did I paint your bluest skies the darkest grey? ”

“ the sight that flashed before me was your face. ”

ivy.

“ i'd meet you where the spirit meets the bones. ”

“ your touch brought forth an incandescent glow. tarnished, but so grand. ”

“ i just sit here and wait, grieving for the living. ”

“ my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand. ”

“ i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland. ”

“ my house of stone, your ivy grows. and now I'm covered in you. ”

“ i wish to know the fatal flaw that makes you long to be magnificently cursed. ”

“ your opal eyes are all I wish to see. ”

“ clover blooms in the fields. ”

“ what would he do if he found us out? ”

“ he's gonna burn this house to the ground. ”

“ i'd live and die for moments that we stole on begged and borrowed time. ”

“ so tell me to run, or dare me to sit and watch what we'll become. ”

“ it's a goddamn blaze in the dark. ”

“ it's the goddamn fight of my life. ”

cowboy like me.

" dancin' is a dangerous game. "

“ now I know I'm never gonna love again. ”

“ i've got some tricks up my sleeve. ”

“ takes one to know one. ”

“ you're a cowboy like me. ”

“ i never wanted love, just a fancy car. ”

“ i could be the way forward. ”

“ the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up. ”

“ the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one. ”

“ now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. ”

“ forever is the sweetest con. ”

long story short.

“ i tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me. ”

“ the knife cuts both ways. ”

“ if the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break. ”

“ i fell from the pedestal, right down the rabbit hole. ”

“ long story short, it was a bad time. ”

“ i always felt I must look better in the rear view. ”

“ missing me at the golden gates they once held the keys to. ”

“ but if someone comes at us this time, I'm ready. ”

“ i wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things. ”

“ your nemeses will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing. ”

“ rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. ”

“ long story short, I survived. ”

marjorie.

“ never be so kind that you forget to be clever. ”

“ never be so clever that you forget to be kind. ”

“ what died didn't stay dead. ”

“ you're alive, so alive. ”

“ never be so politе that you forget your power. ”

“ nevеr wield such power that you forget to be polite. ”

“ if I didn't know better I'd think you were listening to me now. ”

“ you loved the amber skies so much. ”

“ and if I didn't know better I'd think you were singing to me now. ”

closure.

“ it's been a long time. ”

“ seeing the shape of your name still spells out pain. ”

“ it wasn't right, the way it all went down. ”

“ i got your letter. ”

“ i know that it's over, I don't need your closure. ”

“ don't treat me like some situation that needs to be handled. ”

“ i'm fine with my spite, my tears, my beers and my candles. ”

“ i know I'm just a wrinkle in your new life. ”

“ it's fake and it's oh so unnecessary. ”

evermore.

“ i replay my footsteps on each stepping stone trying to find the one where I went wrong. ”

“ i was catching my breath. ”

“ i had a feeling so peculiar that this pain would be for evermore. ”

“ I can't remember what I used to fight for. ”

“ you cannot think of all the cost and the things that will be lost. ”

“ can we just get a pause? ”

“ is there a line that I could just go cross? ”

“ when I was shipwrecked I thought of you. ”

“ in the cracks of light I dreamed of you. ”

“ it was real enough to get me through. ”

“ i swear you were there. ”

#sentence meme #sentence memes #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp meme #ask meme #roleplay meme #lyrical meme #lyric meme #memes by j

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rotshop · 3 years ago

Text

get prankt this isn't an angst fic lol ,,

ANYWAY ,, i realized earlier that i could've just been calling 'auditor reader' employer reader this whole time and then i had a funny silly goofy little idea and now we r here,,,lol,,, ill proof read this later but i did this in one go no breaks so . help.

I might continue this later so!! consider this a sort of 'introduction' if u will,,

note ; auditor uses he / she / they pronouns in this bc ive decided im just going to push my propaganda onto all of you <333 also Hank uses he / they / xe

tw ; dissociation, dereality, some light body horror

Bloody Management

"This is out of your jurisdiction. You've wasted enough time here," you seethed dryly, staring down at the shorter being. "You've made no progress and have only proved your operation to be a strain on our relations and resources."

"Out of MY jurisdiction? YOU'VE never even been there before! You think you can just storm in and suddenly kick me out of my own work?" Auditor shot back, hands slamming down on the mahogany desk in front of her.

"Yes, actually, I do," you snapped, eyes narrowing. "I think you're forgetting just who you're speaking to. You've let this drag on for far too long and your ego has grown in tandem with its pointlessness."

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continued. "Look, I understand. You put effort and thought into this little pet project of yours, but the results have all proven zilch. You fucked up, that's fine, but you can't keep meddling with this reality in hopes something will suddenly work again! All you're doing is tearing and poking holes the rest of us will have to deal with later."

"If you just gave me a little more time I could-"

"We've been giving you time. We've given you more time than we've ever given any project like yours," you gave a desperate look, "It's over. You tried and we tried, there's nothing that can be done. If you just worked with us then we could help you."

There was a long silence as they faltered, hands falling into their lap as their gaze followed, landing on the floor.

"And what happens to my Nevada?"

"We'll try and clean it up again. Return it to..some sort of normalcy," you hummed, "Though, with some of those tears in the fabric it'll take a bit longer than anticipated. That..clown, is proving to be rather difficult."

You paused, grin finding it's way onto your face.

"It's been tricky, if you will."

"Not the time."

You gave a 'tsk' in response, shrugging lightly, "I don't regret it."

"You'll be going back to our depths, effective immediately. While this project was a failure, we're still curious to see if there's anything else that can be done in a different time and place."

"And what about you? Are you going to sit all pretty in this fake office for the rest of eternity?" She questioned sarcastically, eyes dragging up to meet yours.

"God, I wish. I mean, seriously, you have no idea how nice it is to have some peace and quiet after dealing with that fuckin' office."

With a dry snicker and -presumably- an eye roll, they finally stood accepting their defeat.

"I presume I'll be seeing you?"

"If your little posse doesn't cause me too much trouble, yes."

"Have fun with that, I do hope it's as grueling as possible," he hummed, turning and striding towards the door to nothing.

"Thanks, was nice seeing you too."

The door peering to the void shuts soundlessly.

"Was the pun really that bad?.."

---

"What do you mean they're just neutral suddenly? It's not like they all just suddenly unionized or sum' shit! There's gotta be something going on," Deimos groaned, irritation dragging onto him and clinging desperately.

"Well- What do you want me to say! I'm just as confused as you are," Sanford huffed back over comms, making a vague gesture with no audience.

Hank stood in the other room, staring down at the few agents that were on their knees with their hands held tight behind their heads. They'd made no attempt to attack Sanford and xem, simply staring in a bit of surprise when the two'd busted in. It'd completely thrown the raid off, leaving them both in a state of stunned confusion. The agent that they'd asked about the sudden change in demeanor just gave some shaky shrug, stammering out that they'd all received an order to not attack under any circumstances from some unknown contact. 'They really just listen to anyone then?..'

It was hard to believe, hard to find any reason or meaning in that lead to any conclusive endings. Which, had lead to a small dispute going nowhere and fast. Hank only picked up on little parts of it, the words being muffled and distorted through the wall. Xe didn't really have much interest in getting a clearer reading of it though, it didn't sound like it meant much.

"Look, I'm just going to try and look for any documents or actual recordings of this apparent 'ghost order,' alright?..." A pause. "Deimos? Are you there? Shit- Of course the line dies now of all times."

The line wasn't dead. It was somewhere else, some-when else.

---

The ground felt cold.

No, was it warm?

Wait- No no no, it wasn't warm..

Was it even the ground?

Did it even matter?

Deimos could fuzzily recall it. Arguing with Sanford over the line. The points he made exactly didn't seem to ring through the fog of confusion and numb in his mind. Something about the Auditor, the agents, blah bla..something.

He'd been making to say something else when he'd seen it, something off in the corner of his eye. It wasn't anything huge, if you asked him he wouldn't even be able to tell you what it was. There was something wrong, but there wasn't. The ground was cold, but it was warm.

Something was wrong.

Everything is fine.

He'd turned around, looking around for whatever in his vision wasn't right.

That's rude to say, you know.

He'd never found it, something reaching from the depths to grab him.

You're making me sound awfully cruel.

With a groan, he picked himself up off the ground to observe his surroundings. White and black stretched infinitely around him, the 'ground' underneath him was the deepest of not-color while the 'sky' was its blinding twin. A building stood in front of him, a mix of ivory and ink twisted to form its structure. The door faced him, standing tall and straight as a soldier in spite of how tilted and off the world felt.

Before he could even really register it, something was pulling him up off the floor. There were no hands or strings physically attached, nothing sticking from him to drag into the infinite beyond his comprehension, no no. It was something quiet, a ghost or a whisper in his mind that pulled him through the ocean and to shore. The door grew larger- closer. His mind grew blanker. His hand twisted the knob.

Color flooded into his vision finally, the room in front of him coated in it graciously. The floors were a velvet carpeting, a wine red that felt of lavish and glitzy. The walls were lined in bookshelves, each filled to the brim with titles somewhere between poetry and latin white noise where imagination fell. At the head of the room stood a desk, polished mahogany standing tall and still, frozen indefinitely in time. Behind it, you.

Me.

Once again, he was pulled forward. Each step fell in front of the other, unsure of weight behind them and noise that followed suite. He felt half there. Half of a man and half of a void. It was..something.

Not pleasant, not bad.

The ground wasn't cold, wasn't warm.

It just was.

He finds himself meeting your gaze as he plops down into one of the seats in front of you. He finds his neck straining and bowing under phantom limbs that aren't there. He finds his eyes training on yours which stare back pointedly, finds himself between hot and cold. He finds himself sitting down before you as he watches from the window.

There's no window in the room.

"You must be so confused."

Your voice is in front of him, right? That's where you are, so your voice should be coming from there. It isn't though. It's around him somewhere. Even as you tilt your head to the side the noise of your own voice doesn't seem to follow it.

"Don't think too much on this all, alright?"

You mutter something. 'These grunts really weren't made for this- to be here. I'm surprised he even woke up.'

Someone nods in agreement.

"Wh..who are you?"

Is that his voice? It is. It has to be, it fell from his own mouth. He barely even felt it move. Is it his mouth? It has to be.

You pause for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. He doesn't know if its because he spoke or because of what he asked. Nobody clarifies.

"Why don't you call me [name]? That'll be easiest for you. I do apologize for dragging you here rather than appearing there," you hum, leaning forward on your desk. "I just wanted to make sure we had the utmost privacy."

I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be able to forget.

"Now, Deimos," is that his name? "I need to tell you something, I have to work on restoring things for you, so I can't deliver this message to everyone myself in the most..effective of ways. You won't mind filling your friends in for me, right?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. His tongue is lead and his mouth is stuck shut, if he opens it will surely be left that way for the rest of infinity- for the rest of this place, this time. Someone says yes in his voice.

"Good. Now, try to listen carefully..."

---

He wakes up on sand. He's sitting up quickly, stilted as his mind finds his body. His tongue is lighter, teeth separated once more as his jaws are their own entities again. The cliff is still under him, wind passing by him peacefully. The horizon stretches infinite.

The ground is warm, there's no mistaking it.

"Deimos? Are you there?"

He pauses briefly.

"I need to tell you guys something."

#deimos x reader #SORTA???????#I MEAN. U GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS HIS ASS SO LIKE. TAKE THAT AS U WILL...#idk he's definitely in gay love w/ you but like in that 'aha hey bestie what if we kisses and you were a cosmic horror :flushed:'#madness combat imagines #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madcom x reader #auditor reader #employer reader #<- gonna be usin that tag too now ig??

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Text

The Exception

My friend let me try playing Hades on her switch and well... I kinda liked it. Namely, I liked all the characters, so my brain went like “what if they were yandere” and I had an idea for this story that I threw together this morning before working on the Fox Wedding (: The latter isn’t done yet, but this sure is, so who knows, mayhaps some of you will enjoy it! Just tried to answer the question how we could get Thanatos to whisk us away.

Characters: Yandere!Thanatos x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Blood, War, Wounds/Impaling, Major Character Death (???) or well dying, I read into greek history for almost an hour but if I gotten something wrong then so be it

Thanatos had seen enough of the world to know that he didn't want to stay on the surface forever.

The current battle spreading before him was a mere reason to sigh deeply as he watched bodies fall left and right, their souls soon leaving to a better, or perhaps worse, place. It was mandatory he stayed, but Thanatos was well aware of which side was winning and which was losing. It was his duty and his work to know these things, even though it didn't make the fighting any less futile in his eyes.

Letting his gaze wander over the battlefield, he watched the red splatters on the ground, heard the crushing sounds of iron against iron and the cacophony of fearful and devastating screams. He still couldn't believe Zagreus would want to come to such a place. A place where there was futile fighting and too much light, but perhaps, it was a world that fit the Prince of the Underworld, as he was the same, even if Thanatos only recognized this fact bitterly.

Finally, the battle was closing in on its end, just like the hundreds of people that found their death because of it. The ones who weren't dead yet slowly but surely started to hesitate and retreat. Even as the personification of death, Thanatos reckoned that a pointless death was scary, even though so many humans chose it over desertion. Their death was inevitable, preordained by Thanatos sisters. Still, he had seen many hold on to the last sparks of hope that they could escape Thanatos' grasp.

And then, on the other side of the coin, were those that practically would have offered their life to Hades and fought to the end.

You weren't an exception. Yes, your quest and pride were your downfall, and by the gleam in your eyes Thanatos could tell you knew. You knew and recognized that you'd die. However, as if you were spiting him personally, you still continued to fight ahead of everyone else, gaining questioning glances from your comrades and contempt from your enemies, which you pulled to the ground one after another and sending them to hell.

Many before you had this overzealous compulsion to make that best out of their inevitable demise. Thanatos would admit that yes, most had a good reason for it, like saving their family or fighting for their own life. Others simply lucked out on the gift of pride and ignorance, forcing themselves and occasionally many more lives with them into the deep, dark pits of death.

What was your reason? Thanatos wondered.

He still had time before he needed to take action, he could allow himself a short - minuscule, really - different thought than his upcoming work, and you presented yourself so nicely to him as the incarnation of death waited for the end of today's battle. It wasn't often that he had the leisure to let his thoughts wander, so Thanatos intended to use these few seconds, which would fall under the radar, to still his curiosity.

By the looks of it, you weren't an inexperienced fighter. Or perhaps, you were just a farmer judging by your muscles. Surely, you seemed enthusiastic about your task, so were you fighting for something more significant than the glory of your country? Family? A loved one? Thanatos couldn't help but be curious about what your drive was, as he had seen so many reasons, yet they were all the same. Perhaps, yours was new?

Even so, you were graceful as you swung your sword around. What did he know about footwork, but at least, yours seemed to pay off as you weren't dead yet. When one of your foes managed to smack off your helmet, Thanatos believed that was it, but alas, you regained your strength, charging at the very same attacker.

In a way, fighting was like an elaborate play. The only difference was that neither of the parties knew the other one's move. The person reacting better was the winner. He couldn't find joy in watching wars, but even Thanatos had to admit that it was a joy watching you. Even if you lacked the enthusiasm as the heroic shades that lingered below, like Theseus, had, you fought a fight worth mentioning in the books as well.

Every move you made, Thanatos could see the calculations in your eyes, that keen shine reflecting in them. The sun seemed to break through the clouds just to reach out to you, making your armor sparkle in its rays. Yes, you were a formidable human, and Thanatos caught himself thinking that it was a shame you were fighting even if you looked so beautifully while doing it.

Taking another deep breath, he could see the swirls in the air left by it. While the winter wasn't affecting him, no matter how little clothes he wore, Thanatos felt a second of pitiful understanding for everyone who had to fight in those conditions. Undoubtedly, the cold armors, freezing hands and weapons, and frozen ground were another nemesis for every soldier out here. Even if their bodies stayed warm from adrenaline and running, it certainly was another reason many of your human bodies gave out quicker, merely submitting to their fate. It was fair enough for Thanatos. It meant his work was over faster, and judging by you being circled and the other soldiers at your side beginning to see the end coming towards them with long spears and sharp swords, it was all over soon.

You had fought bravely, that much he could give you. Perhaps you had impressed him enough to put in an unusual good word for you with Hypnos, who'd pass it on to Hades himself, granting you a shot on being put into Elysium. But your fate had long been decided, and as you fell to the ground, the battlefield erupted in victorious screams, announcing your time of death.

And also, his start of work.

As the winners retreated one after one, happy whenever they found a friend that survived too, Thanatos passed by them and onto the battlefield instead. Unseen by the human eye, he began his duty of reaping, one soul after the other, as mangled and frustrated over their death as they were, following his orders as he shushed them away. Usually, some pleaded and bargained with him for another shot of life, but even if Thanatos had wanted, there was no way for him to help them. But that day, everyone seemed awfully aware that there was no negotiating nor mercy waiting for them as they looked at his figure, frightened and frustrated. A pointless battle, with meaningless deaths, brought forth the self-pity in them, but this wasn't the first battle Thanatos tended to, so he felt nothing akin to that. It also wasn't his duty to take care of the souls gathered here, as it was Hermes' job to lead to them.

He had something very different on his agenda. You.

It was unfortunate for both of you, but when he reached you, you had yet to breathe your last breath. One eye slowly and in pain, opened, the other one damaged from the blow to the head you had received. However, as you looked at him, serene clarity laid in your gaze, and you recognized him, mayhaps by the giant scythe he carried around. Your stare was clear and less afraid than he expected you to be when acknowledging him, but you closed your eyes as a cough overcame you, hot, red blood dripping down your lips.

"Guess that's it," you croaked, and Thanatos could only stare. Conversing… wasn't his strong suit, and there wasn't exactly a reason to talk to you.

"Are you going to kill me?" you continued, undeterred by his silence, and Thanatos weighed his actions. "No, of course not," he eventually spoke, shaking his head slowly, the hood on his head shifting along to his movement.

"Ouch, that's cruel. You'll just wait until I die like this?"

Your words were nothing he hadn't heard before, and he didn't feel offended by them. However, he didn't expect your lips to briefly curl into a smile, adding a jesting notion to what you said. Even that wasn't new, but… it struck a chord inside the usual stoic bringer of death. "I can't end your suffering," Thanatos explained, hoping you'd simply know about the unspoken rule that he couldn't harm you.

"I think, I get it," you heaved, feeling worse by the minute. "You are just making sure I know I am supposed to die here."

That assumption wasn't wrong, even though there had been more playing into his service than just that. Too many kept trying to escape their fate, and sort of, Thanatos was just checking and cleaning up what would be left. You still had some time before your organs would fail and finally take you to the grave, different from the other souls that were already leaving for their new home.

"No, you will die here," he retorted firmly.

"I could," you chuckled, followed by another painful cough.

"Don't test me, Mortal."

In between deep breaths, you allowed yourself a short laugh. Just like him, you were probably aware that there was nothing worse that could happen to your situation, so his threat was just a way he hoped to shut you up with. In silence, he watched over you, until eventually, your eye opened up again. This time your gaze was searching for him - or something really - but your sight had already begun to cloud. No matter how proud and achieved you are in life, in the face of death, everyone looked the same.

"I think I did a good job. You know, fighting. Thought that if I already had to do it, I might as well give it my damn best."

More coughing. Thanatos watched the puddle of blood around you grow by the second. The spear inside your body must have been stirring up your insides the more you talked. Thanatos had expected something like this, you, young as you still were, had been led by the belief that doing your best could make up for the fact that you'd die. "But in the end, it was worth nothing, right? We lost after all."

Thanatos could only stare as he wondered what you expected him to say. He came here, knowing your life would end here, so really, the hope you had put into yourself didn't have the same disappointment to him now as it did to you. And yet, as he listened to you, seeing your body battered up with cuts and bruises, for the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to pity for you, and you specifically.

"Why did you fight then?" he asked, perhaps against your expectations.

"Why? Because they told us too. The King ordered us to fight this battle, and only he could have known how many soldiers our opponent would bring."

"You could have run." Thanatos tried to stay as detached from you as possible, though it didn't quite work, your words taking their influence on him. "Can you?" you retorted before letting out a long sigh. Death was near, literally as well as figuratively.

"Can you run from your duties? You don't have to do this either, do you?"

"I do--"

"Really?"

There was no immediate response this time, your question justified, despite your little mortal soul undoubtedly never understanding the burdens on the shoulders of Gods. The world would stop if they all decided to not continue their work and fulfill their duties and expectations. If Thanatos stopped, no one would die anymore, and but the suffering of everything would never disappear too.

"Dying sucks," you whispered, turning your head away.

"I reckon," he muttered indifferently. Not like he could talk about it from experience. It must be painful, dreadful, and, depending on the circumstances, frustrating too. Right now, though he couldn't imagine the extent, you must have felt so hopeless and so, so scared. There wasn't much other reason for your banter.

"Thanatos… I always thought it was a pretty name, even if everyone feared it." Regaining his attention after finding himself momentarily lost in thoughts, he looked down at you again, watching as your eyelid closed slowly. "Say what you want, but you can't blame them for fearing death, and alas, me."

"Perhaps if they talked to you, they wouldn't be so afraid."

"Meaning you don't feel so afraid anymore?"

A smile danced over your lips once more, a truly unusual sight for a soul so close to their end, and especially after talking to him. Hypnos often teased Thanatos with being too formal and dutiful to be amusing, and Hades beware, comforting. Though he didn't care for his twin's words, yours did make him feel... happy.

"Let's go then," you whispered, and Thanatos kneeled down, his hand falling to your wrist, listening to your pulse. Even with the feeling of your heart still desperately pumping blood through your body, only to lose it through your wounds, you didn't utter another word afterwards. You undoubtedly were dying, but perhaps, for now, you were merely unconscious as your lungs didn't stop reaching for air, and your heart used all your strength to function.

Once more, the sun broke through the clouds, shining down right at you two, bringing Thanatos into the predicament of being blinded as it reflected off your armor. Perhaps he understood it now. Understood how unfair it was that someone like you, innocent and kind, was doomed to die out here. How awful his job on this day was, forcing him to take you to Tartarus and put you before the judgment of the god residing there.

So what if... he didn't.

He couldn't heal your wounds, nor make you feel better. But what he could do is battle the fate, earn the scorn of many, but at least, even if he took out the spear from your bloody body, you'd live. You'd live to tell your tale, and who knew, even he could apply some bandages, so maybe you'd recover some.

It was a risk, and one Thanatos did not like taking, nor found pleasure in executing. But you couldn't refuse to come to this battle, whereas he, perhaps, after all these years, could refuse to do his job once. For your sake, and unbeknownst to him at that time, for his own even more.

His scythe disappeared in favor of Thanatos grabbing for the dreadful spear. Never before had he experience the kind of sound a wound could make from so close, and by the gods, he hoped he never would again. It was just your luck that you were unconscious, or the pain would have perhaps killed you faster than your wounds.

Leaning down, he scooped you up, his hand sullied with your blood and the dirt on the ground. The snow wasn't cold when he touched it, but your body was warm in his arms and still alive. Your threat of fade wasn't cut yet, and he wouldn't do it. With you in his arms, he stepped back, looking into your sleeping face before he retreated from the battlefield with a quiet, "Let's go."

No, the surface wasn't a place Thanatos liked to linger. It was too loud, too wrong, and too bright. But to see your smile, lively and happy, one more time, he didn't need to stay above ground. Where you were going, it was dark and, at times, lonely if you weren't a being born there. But you'd also be safe and alive for as long as you wished to.

And Thanatos would be with you, even if everyone would turn against him and his decision, for all eternity if he must.

#thanatos #thanatos hades #yandere thanatos #yandere!thanatos #hades #hades the game #yandere hades #yandere!hades #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

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aristobun · 2 years ago

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Helene arrived at Col’s house a little after noon, her backpack filled with water, a sandwich, some sweets and the flashlight with enough batteries to keep them going for a few hours. It was going to take them a good few hours to reach those railroad tracks, so it would be approaching twilight time when they eventually started the ghost hunt they had every intention of undertaking and seeing through until they captured something worthwhile.

‘ Come on, Colly, we gotta get there before the sun goes down, ‘ she yelled from outside, hearing the other girl yell back that she was coming and to hold her horses. ‘ Boy, that lilt of yours really comes flying out when you’re pissed, ‘ she chuckles, pulling the straps back over her shoulders as they started to slip down her arms.

‘ Jesus, you’d think I was still sleepin’ or somethin’, ‘ Colleen was laughing in spite of how much annoyance she felt at being rushed, although she understood too well and wouldn’t want them stranded in the dead of night with miles and miles of train tracks to follow back home.

‘ Y’know, sometimes it takes you so long I’d be thinkin’ you were. What took you so long? ‘ Hel is amused at the frustration but quickly lightens the mood as she hands her best friend a packet of skittles from her bag and pulling one out for herself, too.

‘ Skittles aren’t gonna make your naggin’ easier to deal with, Hel, ‘ Colleen laughs, brushing off the troubles and popping a handful into her mouth as they started their walk, further and further along until the houses went out of view and the forest up ahead wasn’t too far away. ‘ How long do you think it’ll take to reach the tracks? ‘ she asks, downing a mouthful of water.

‘ I reckon at least three hours of walkin’, with stops along the way cause I haven’t walked that far since my dad took us hiking a few years ago. Do you remember that weekend? My legs haven’t endured that much work since.. getting old in our late teens I guess, ‘ she heaves a sigh and can already feel the tension in her legs as they cross a clearing until they’re a few feet from the trees which will at least give them a fair bit of shelter away from the blazing sun.

‘ Christ, I hope my own legs don’t pack in before we get there, ‘ the green eyed woman sighs but realises the upcoming shade they’re about to experience will benefit their journey greatly. ‘ Chris and the boys haven’t even been back up this way in a few years, ‘ she adds.

‘ Oh yea, I overhead Chris tellin’ Gordie just last week they won’t ever go back there where that kid died.. I think everythin’ that happened with Ace scared them all off going near the place, along with witnessing the sight of a dead body, too.. obviously, ‘ Helene rambles on, taking a long sip of water as they continued on through the forest, passing snacks back and forth.

‘ Right, I don’t blame them really, that would put me off goin’ back for the rest of my life, ‘ Colleen answered, popping a piece of gum into her mouth and beginning to chew as she handed one over to her bestie, who willingly accepted the fresh mint as a change from the gummies.

‘ Ace and the boys should’ve gotten some reprimandin’ I think, for what they did.. or at least what he tried to do, ‘ Helene says, ‘ God, I would have shot him if he’d actually hurt the boys. ‘

‘ He’s gonna be in trouble with the law for the rest of his life at the rate he’s goin’. Hell, it’s been a few years since and he still hasn’t quit with all the bullshit, ‘ Col states, shaking her head because the two of them had been sweet on each other on and off for a long, long time.

‘ You and him still going together or? ‘ Hel asks, curious and turning to look at her friend.

‘ Nah, we haven’t been for a while now.. at least six months or so, I just don’t think I can wait for him to grow up, or at least stop gettin’ himself thrown behind bars every other weekend. I almost never got to see him when we were together cause he was never out long enough, ‘ she sighs.

‘ I don’t blame you, really. I would be pretty fed up with him, too. I remember that boy years ago who came into town, who I tried to get with.. that Landon Carter, do you remember him? he lasted about two months here before his dad had to ship them both back off out of the state to return home, cause the town didn’t want him here, ‘ Helene shook her head in distaste.

‘ I remember, didn’t he also hang about with Ace and the boys a lot before they headed on out? ‘ Col asked, the two girls relating a lot in terms of past boyfriends and how immature they were, which gave them little to no hope for a happy relationship in their futures.

‘ He did, spent most of his time with Eyeball I think, but tried to lead the group as much as Ace, which I think pissed him the hell off and he got booted and not long after that is when they left town, ‘ Helene sighs, downing some more water and digging around in the bag for a baby ruth for both herself and Colleen. ‘ Here.. we better eat these before they melt. ‘

‘ Oh you’re a gem! chocolate for the hike, ‘ Col says, unwrapping the bar with eagerness only a child would have and chomping down right away, which Hel followed suit with as they walked.

‘ Almost there, I can see the bridge from here, too, ‘ Helene remarked, biting down into the bar again and pointing ahead to the appearance of the tracks just to the left.

#drabble #save #helene marie starling #colleen murphy

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angry-geese · 4 years ago

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Fireside

Leone Abbacchio x Gn!Reader

Warnings: sfw. mentions of violence and injury. pre vento aureo

Notes: how Abbacchio met his s/o + some relationship fluff

When Abbacchio heard that there was going to be a new member of Bucciarati's gang, he was less than thrilled.

Abbacchio hated when the group expanded. He hated the new faces, the new names to memorize, and how didn't know them yet. He had no way of knowing if they were reliable or not. He hated change. Every day for him was on repeat: get up, work for Bruno, drink himself to sleep. He was content with the way things were. He's never eager to see something change.

If you had any say in the matter, you would have never joined Passione. After a debt brought on by your family, you found yourself running out of options. It was join or die. You would be assigned to Bucciarati's gang after passing Polpo's test. The stand you gained wasn't strong enough for you to join the guard, or even the hitman team. For that, you often considered yourself lucky. Things could always be better; its them getting worse that worries you.

Passione was nothing like the old mafia movies you watched as a kid. You're not quite sure what you expected, but this was a lot worse.

Bruno was a decent leader- his teammates respected him and he only tried to kill you once. Compared to some of the others, you had it easy. Narancia and Mista warmed up to you rather quick. They were a bit hyper for your liking, but soon grew on you. Fugo took longer to come around, but eventually got used to you. When Abbacchio first laid eyes on you, he couldn't figure out why you were there. For as new as you were, you held your own pretty well. You weren't outright weak, but it was clear you had not been in the life for long. It was impressive, but not enough to say anything about it. Compared to the others, you were reserved. That didn't mean you were quiet. If the others got you going, you could be just as loud as them. Nobody was spared from your and Narancia's pranks. You grew into your stand. Bucciarati made the transition easier. They quickly became family; your annoying brothers and adoptive father.

Early on Abbacchio was a real prick.

Overall he was hostile and prickly. His personality was hard to get along with. In the beginning you kept your distance. You quickly became too consumed with work to worry about him, and pushed him to the back of your mind. Abbacchio gave you a week before you either broke down, or were killed. For him to respect a newer member, they had to prove themselves to the gang.

You lasted longer than he expected you to.

Over the year that you would work for Bucciarati, you had only been assigned on a handful of jobs with Abbacchio. Your conversations had been few, and only in passing. It pissed you off just a little bit. While you weren't the most personable either- at times you were outwardly hostile- you figured he'd have come around by now. With as aggressive as you could be, it shocked him just how easily you charmed the others. To him, it almost felt artificial; it was a skill bred from the need to survive in Passione's underground, not true charisma. He never failed to let you know that you hadn't proved yourself to him.

You two were only sent on the same assignment together because everyone else was busy. Despite your reservations about Abbacchio, there wasn't much you wouldn't do for Bruno. It was only one job. If it was that bad, you'd ask to not be partnered with him again.

Your job was to retrieve a dead drop, then return to the hideout. It wasn't anything high-stakes. Abbacchio sat the entire car ride in silence. It wasn't hard to tell when he was having a rough day. He was never the most talkative, but he always participated in whatever conversation the others were having- if only to insult them. Today he was quiet, which didn't seem like a good sign. If someone gave you an inch, you'd take a mile. Getting them to talk was a way to get the ball rolling. Any polite conversation you tried to have was shot down with a glare, so you quickly scrapped that idea. You figured he was hungover, and thought it best to leave him alone.

You suppose it was better than him complaining. There was only so much you could put up with.

It was really no fault of your own that things went wrong. Expect everything that can go wrong, to go wrong. The mission wasn't supposed to be high-stakes; there was no reason why another group would be after the dead drop. A rival gang spotted you and went for the package. Abbacchio took it and ran while you tried to hold them off for as long as possible.

As you were heading back to the car, you were cornered.

The kid couldn't have been much younger than you. He aimed a gun between you and Abbacchio, who was only a few feet behind you. He gives you two no time to respond, and only hesitates for a moment when he pulls the trigger.

He missed.

You still don't know how he missed, only taking a moment to thank whatever higher power that just saved your ass. That didn't stop your short life from flashing before your eyes. The bullet struck the ground just a few feet behind you, sending up a spray of dirt and rocks. Part of him couldn't believe that someone was willing to take a bullet for him. Really, you were just trying to protect the package, but it was probably better if he didn't know that.

On the trip back home he scolded you for being so reckless. Since the kid missed, you saw no issue in it. What he feels isn't a sense of pride, more than it is guilt.

He found you less annoying than he'd ever admit.

Whatever you did, it planted the seed of affection within him. Admittedly he was the last place to nurture feelings, and akin to planting flowers in a barren desert while refusing to water them, it didn't stop it from blooming.

There was a mutual respect between the two of you. The man was a mess, and rarely sober, but began to pick himself up a bit. This did not go unnoticed, though the others rarely mentioned it. You would go on to be assigned more jobs together. He was getting less and less vocal about how much he disliked you. While you didn't talk much, you spent a lot of time together. He often found your presence comforting. He'd grown to not only tolerate your company, but enjoy it. The two of you would never admit to being friends- he was too stubborn for that- but that's what you seemed to be.

On late nights he'd walk with you to your apartment. He claimed he didn't want you to get mugged, and that you lived in a bad part of town, but the act was dropped when you mentioned him being chivalrous. You would invite him in for a drink or two. While you didn't want to encourage his bad habits, he never said no to a glass of wine. He never said no to you. You'd had gotten used to being around him. The little spare time you had was spent with him- not doing anything in particular. It never had to be anything special, often times you just lounged around the hideout together.

One night he was out for a job later than usual.

He insisted on taking this one alone. Bruno raised an eyebrow to that, but made no comment on it. Abbacchio had been in a bad mood all day, and while they couldn't prove it was you, the others had the sneaking suspicion it was. You argued. Often. It was rarely serious. He showed his affection by bullying people. What he threw at you, you would send right back.

As much as you didn't like him going alone, you didn't fight it. Mostly out of spite.

By then the others had gone to bed- or gone home for the night. It was only you left at the hideout. On the few nights he'd go straight home, he'd shoot you a text. There wasn't any particular reason you stayed back for him. Maybe it was a gut feeling. It felt a bit childish to wait by the door. He was your partner and you weren't eager to see him sent back in a pine box. Unfortunately, he was important to you.

By the time the door opens, you're dozing off. You're on your feet the moment you hear it.

"You scared the hell out of me." You say.

"The front door. Scared you." He says.

"You scared me," dramatically you roll your eyes, "asshole. You always tell me when you'll be gone this late."

His heart races when you give him a once-over for injuries. While you don't touch him, the way your gaze travels over his body makes him a bit anxious. On his best days he doesn't want to be looked at, on his worst its unimaginable- he just doesn't want to be perceived. If he had any say in it, he wouldn't care about how you saw him. But you make him worry about how others view him.

"This isn't your blood I hope." You say.

Slowly he nods.

You motion for him to sit, before grabbing the first-aid kit from the other room. The wound looks better when all the blood is cleaned away, and doesn't appear to need stitches. Gently you set your hand on his. It's rather cold. When he doesn't pull away- or show any sign of discomfort- you wrap your arms around his neck.

"What are you-"

"Just let me have this." You say. "We don't have to talk about it ever again."

His arms awkwardly wrap around you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. He can't remember the last time someone has held him like this. The smell of your shampoo is comforting. His heartbeat drops for a second before picking up in pace.

"I was worried about you." You say.

No matter how many times he goes over it in his head, he still doesn't believe it. It's not that he doesn't feel the same way- he's head-over-heels for you- but he's in denial about it.

"I love you."

It's under your breath, and so quiet that he almost has to do a double take.

"Say it again..." He says.

"I love you."

He doesn't believe it, but he's so content in your arms he won't question it. He could die happy in this moment.

It would take the others weeks to realize you two were dating.

To their credit, it was sooner than you expected. Not much changed when you made things official. Abbacchio wasn't a fan of pda. They were only tipped off because of Narancia. The prank was harmless- he did that sort of thing all the time- but god it pissed Abbacchio off. Nobody had seen him that mad in years. When you told him to calm down, and that it didn't bother you, he sat in the corner to brood.

You moved in together not long after that. The change felt natural, and took little effort from either of you. It was easy to settle into a routine with him, seeing as you spent so much time at his apartment anyway. Abbacchio always woke up first, although he stayed in bed until you woke up. He's not sentimental- nor will he ever admit to be- but he never passed up the opportunity to watch you while you were so at peace. His nightmares existed long before Passione. He rarely slept, and usually got four hours on a good night. Sleeping next to you helped.

On the rare days off you had together, you spent your time lounging around your apartment. When he was sober, he was a decent cook, and often made dinner for the two of you. He preferred dates at home, over going out in public. He'd bring you coffee while the two of you would watch Italian soap operas. If he was feeling particularly soft, he'd let you braid his hair. Physical touch was something he was still getting used to. It's not that he didn't like it; it was unfamiliar to him and that made him uncomfortable. If it made you happy, he'd try it, even if he personally didn't see the appeal.

He often finds himself thinking about the future. Before it never seemed too bright. Thinking about his past is an almost immediate slope into self loathing. He wasn't all better, but he was healing. Both you and Bruno made sure of that. There wasn't much that he wouldn't do for you.

Every day he wakes up slightly more in love than the last.

#jjba #jjba part 5 #jojo's bizarre adventure #golden wind #vento aureo #leone abbacchio #leone abbachio x reader #jjba x reader #abbacchio x reader

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catzula · 4 years ago

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Change

a/n: this is a lil brain dump bcs I've been really inactive lately, sorry!! I wrote it in one sitting and I dint really know how I feel about it but yeah

warnings: toxic relationship i think? But its resolved in the end. Angst, miscommunication, anger management issues, conflict, break-up, but as I said, resolved in the end.

honorable mentions: female reader, 1.9k words, not proofread

Katsuki Bakugou.

Many might think he's an open book, a simple, hotheaded boy with anger management issues. He doesn't know any feelings other than anger. He can't understand others' emotions, doesn't care.

They were right about him being bad at controlling his emotions, but everything else was false. Bakugou had never been a simple person, and it was rare he met someone who truly understood him. You, for instance, were the only one that had come as close to understanding him, but no one could ever understand someone fully, could they?

Still, ever since he had met you, Bakugou was trying to change, or he liked to think he did. You did, too.

You tried to ignore those times it became apparent that he couldn't, didn't, wouldn't. As much as Bakugou tried to prove to you that he was giving it his best to try and change, there were times that proved it incompetent, not enough, and even a lie.

But you always did your best to forget, suppress the thoughts. It was near impossible not to when Bakugou came back to you, an apology hanging from his lips -although never spoken-, warm hands pulling you to him for a hug.

He's trying to change, you repeat to yourself. He's trying to change.

You think of the last fight you had and shiver as he lies on you, eyes droopy with sleep, nuzzling his face to your neck as you rub soothing circles on his back. The way his back rises and falls steadily makes you smile.

It was gradually getting worse, the fights.

As the months passed and exams approached, Bakugou became even more jittery. You felt your heart sink as you remembered his spitting words, "you're not even in the hero course! How would you fucking know how I feel?" But you did. You knew your boyfriend far too well, and even though you weren't experiencing it firsthand, you could see how stressful it was for him.

"Stop fucking babying me!" He had shouted when you tried to approach him, to get him to calm down. "Can't you see I'm trying to change? I'm doing all of this for you, and you keep asking for more- I-I'm doing it for you, okay? I'm trying to become better, so stop asking for more!"

You weren't asking for more, that, you wanted to say. You were trying to-to help.

"I don't want you to do this for me, if all the reason you're changing is for me, stop! I want you to change for yourself, not for me!"

That was unfair, how he was looking at you like he hated you, like he wanted you to disappear.

It's okay, you tell yourself. Katsu's with me now, in my arms, calm, promised me he would try to get better.

And he did, too. He always did. After a fight, Bakugou became the kindest person you knew, treating you like fragile glass, showing you love in his way. And it always led you to think. This is it. No need to worry anymore, you tell yourself when he kisses you softly, oh, so- so softly that you're sure there's no way this man that's holding you like this would ever hurt you ever again. Never.

That never is never longer than a few days, though.

In a few days' time, he- Katsuki forgets. The spite comes back, the snarky comments fitted in his sentences, the slight anger in his eyes. Why is he so angry? That, you can never tell. He's furious with you all the time, even when he himself doesn't know it.

"Katsuki?" You whisper meekly, and his eyes flutter sleepily. "Do you love me?"

Yes, he wants to say, I love you more than I love myself. But it's a soft grunt you get as an answer.

It's okay, though, since you understand it well.

"Tell that extra to bring my shit back." It's a gruff sentence voiced with a fury that tears you away from your thoughts.

For a second, your heart leaps. It's Katsuki! But the feeling sinks quickly. "It's Bakugou to you." You remember when he told you that, you remember too well the way he spitted the words as if he had spitted them on your face, a lump appearing in your throat quickly. He's not talking to you, rather about you, and it stings even more. You're the extra now, an extra that has his belongings in their room and nothing else, and he can't even tell you to bring them himself. Kirishima does it for him.

A half a bottle of his perfume that was never successful at suppressing his sweet smell.

A sweatshirt of his that he knew was your favorite.

A pair of socks, pencils and some other pieces of clothing, the usual.

A full, newly-bought bottle of his shampoo.

For some reason, that last one hurts more than anything else. It's not the shampoo itself, rather the fact that it's new, that Bakugou bought it just a few days ago when breaking up was never a thought.

Why did you break-up? It's very complicated. So complicated that you don't know it yourself. But you do know that he's angrier than ever, with you even more, for some fucking reason. He can't stand the sight of you, you know, he knows, too.

Bakugou himself doesn't know why he's so angry at you. He was the one who broke up, so what gives him the right to feel like this? Why do his hands clench into fists with the sight of you? His heart beating twice as fast with fury, head dizzy, his teeth clench, he can't breathe, a tightness heavying on his chest. With anger, he repeats. All these feelings are because he's so angry with you.

The day you knock on his door, a soft thump audible from the other side of the door, Bakugou knows you brought back the box of his belongings, and he wants nothing more than to open the door and pull you in. But what is he going to do after that? He doesn't know. All he does know is that the lump in the back of his throat is because he's holding back angry shouts. His eyes are stinging with tears that are caused by anger. There is a feeling boiling in the pit of his stomach that makes him feel sick, but it must be fury.

Why did you leave it to the door? Couldn't you have waited for him to open it and look at you for once? Do you hate him that much?

You have the right, too.

Bakugou hates to see you cry.

It's so annoying, he decides one day, as he catches a glimpse of you crying in your friend's arms, hugging them, telling them how much you missed Bakugou as they rub circles on your back.

"He never deserved you, anyway." He hears them say. It makes you cry even more.

Seeing you cry always makes him feel angry, Bakugou decides.

The way he discovers the reason for his anger is in a rather sick way.

All it takes is for him to see you laugh.

It's spring, the winter you broke up is over, the feelings aren't, though.

You're laughing, and you look so pretty under the tree, body swiftly shaking with laughter that doesn't seem to end.

Bakugou knows you like spring, and he notices it's been more than a winter since he last saw you laughing like this. Even before you broke up, he realizes you hadn't been laughing as you did now. That realization stings. You always laughed, smiled when you were with him, but it had a tinge of bitterness that never seemed to go away.

For the first time, it doesn't anger him, but it hurts.

Somewhere inside, Bakugou had always been able to sense your bitter melancholy. It's a feeling you felt even when you were the happiest, but he just hadn't realized it. Like pieces of a puzzle, every other realization starts dawning on him too.

He was angry at you because you always made him feel like he could never make you happy. All he could do was make you cry, you cried and cried, whenever you were with him, and it made him feel so frustrated- he hated it, he hated, hatedhatedhatedhatesyou.

But it wasn't you, it was never you Bakugou was angry with, but it was Bakugou himself.

Bakugou hates himself for never being able to make you happy.

Bakugou was never angry at you, he realizes. He was heartbroken. All those times he thought it was fury he felt when he saw you-

People think Bakugou doesn't feel anything other than anger.

They're wrong.

Bakugou feels many other things than anger, but he doesn't know how to differentiate them.

The next time you meet, there are two changes you realize about each other.

It's a cold night, another sleepless one you let yourself feel everything you suppress during the day. You don't expect to hear footsteps approaching you, it's the dead of the night and very cold, but you freeze when you take note of the sweet smell the sound brought with it.

You can't speak, do anything other than raising your eyes that are wet with tears to see if it really is the owner of your heart.

"We need to talk."

You don't want to, but you missed his voice more than you thought, that you're unable to leave.

But it's the moment your eyes meet with his blood-red ones that you realize why he's here. For the first time in a long while, there isn't a trace of anger in Bakugou's eyes.

He looks sorry, and that night is the first time you hear him apologize to you.

Despite how much he wishes it was, this apology isn't the last.

Bakugou is flawed. He will and does make you cry, maybe more than anyone else. He knows it, and you do too. But love is a strange thing, and it took him years to realize that you would rather cry your heart out than be without him.

So this time, when he takes you between his arms and lets you cry, two things have changed since the last time you both were in this position.

1: You noticed that this wasn't going to be the last time you cried because of Bakugou.

Throughout your relationship, you hoped, prayed that fight you had was going to stay the last, it never was. This way of thinking was flawed, damaging the relationship as much as the fights did. Bakugou could feel your growing sadness, dissatisfaction, fear that you were going to fight at every smallest disagreement you had, and they did nothing but make him angry, turning the conflict into a full-blown fight.

2: Bakugou wants to change. And not for you, but himself.

He wants to be a better person. He always did, but it was only because you asked him to. He wanted to be better for you, and it was the only thing he could think of whenever you told him he had to change. Its pressuring, made him insecure, made him feel like anything he did was never enough. But this time, right then as he envelopes you and pulls you into his embrace, Bakugou wants to be a better person. Not for you, not for anyone else. He just wants to be better, and he will start here.

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jaskiersvalley · 4 years ago

Note

Hey

Hello

How's it goin'

I just wanted to stop by and say 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍 you're amazing and I love you and I'm so lucky to know you and feel comfortable interacting with you and I just 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Doug! My darling! My spouse! It is always such a delight to hear from you, I love chatting (and I need to hear more about those Vikings!) and this ask has absolutely made me grin the whole day. As a token of my undying affection, please accept some Lambden with some fun mutation caused shenanigans (did you know that a cat's purr can help promote healing?).

CW: Injury

Really? Right Now?!

The contract would have been one that Lambert would have passed over if he had been on his own. But, thankfully, he was rarely alone nowadays. Somehow, he had found himself, dare he say it, in love with someone who loved him back. Aiden was nothing Lambert ever expecting and almost everything he had secretly craved; a companion, a lover, a best friend. He was also great back-up for the more difficult contracts, even if he loudly declared that Lambert was the back-up. Case in point, the arch griffin was a contract Lambert would only have ever taken if he was desperate. Not very noble, Wolf-like behaviour but Lambert favoured living rather than taking unnecessary risks for ungrateful humans. But, with Aiden to help, it was less risky and the pay promised to be good. The fight was even going well until they realised it was a mated pair and they were in for a world of shit.

One griffin down, the second one was enraged. Personally, Lambert didn't much care whether it was the male or a the female, it was big, it was angry and it was trying to kill him. Even worse, his sword was still stuck in the dead griffin, he had triumphantly made the killing blow which meant Aiden would be the one to order their food in the evening. However, there was now a very irate second griffin headed his way.

Never before had Lambert been bodily shoved out of the way as well as having aard blasted at him from close range. It slammed him into the body of the dead griffin and, through sheer, dumb luck, near his sword. The outrage of being the one in need of rescue filled him with enough spite to yank his sword free and turn, wielding it, only to see the other griffin in its death throes to one side. A little further away, Aiden was hunched at the base of a tree, curled in a little.

Stalking over, Lambert's nose scrunched up as he picked up the soft vibrations of a purr rumbling through the air.

"Really? You purring right now? Alright, laugh it up you bastard, no need to be so fucking smug," Lambert growled and kicked a clump of grass and earth at Aiden.

"Lamb." Aiden's voice quivered with his purring and he turned his face to peer up at Lambert. There was no triumph or amusement in his expression. If anything, it all looked pinched tight. "Sorry."

Which made no sense and Lambert glared down at him. "You better be. Throwing an aard at me in such a close proximity. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"You're safe."

That wasn't the point and Lambert wanted to really rip into Aiden for being such an arse. Curled up like he was, purring away as if he was the most content cat on the Continent.

"Yeah. No need to rub it in. I had it in hand." No he didn't but that wasn't the point. "You're still ordering dinner. I'm not dealing with the snooty barkeep. But if you keep purring like the happy twat you are, I'm going to be making more demands."

"Not happy." Which Lambert could see but Aiden was purring, he only did that when he was exceptionally pleased with himself. At least, he believed that until Aiden moved and he could not only smell but see the blood pouring from a gash across his stomach.

"The fuck?!" Lambert dropped to his knees and pushed on Aiden's shoulder to get a better look. "The fuck you do this for? Should have let me face off with the griffin and saved yourself the trouble."

As he peeled back Aiden's ruined clothes, he could feel the purring through all of his partner's chest. "Just stop purring you idiot. Wastes your energy."

"Helps," Aiden bit back, voice fading as his blinks became slower and longer.

Lambert growled at him. "Sure thing pussycat. Next you'll tell me that pushing my glass of water off the bedside table every morning is a magical cure for your insufferable humour."

That, at least, earned him a tired chuckle. Not wasting any more time, Lambert grabbed Aiden's hands and pressed them down over the wound. "Behave for me and keep pressing down while I get my kit."

He left his purring partner to get his pack. The injury wasn't anything some potions and a bit of good old fashioned stitching up wouldn't solve. But the energy expenditure on healing still sucked. They likely wouldn't be moving until the next morning, Lambert would have to hunt them dinner and deal with the two griffins. He would relish in grumbling away about it, mind already stashing away teasing quips to throw at Aiden about being a lazy cat when the time came. But, in the privacy of his own mind, Lambert cherished the idea of being able to throw those insults at Aiden still, that the griffin hadn't done more damage. It wasn't anything he could ever say but he knew Aiden would understand. After all, it wasn't just anyone that Lambert would patch up and declare "glad you're not dead, dickhead" to. That was just for Aiden, especially when followed up with a kiss to the forehead that was so quick, he could blame it on being a figment of his partner's addled imagination. Still, Aiden would understand. He always did.

#lambden #lambert/aiden #lambert #aiden #the witcher #cw: injury #tldr: cats purr to help the healing process

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