#and forgetting that anything after actually happened beside a few key events | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

serendipitous-magic · 3 years

Note

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

_-_

5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.

It also informs character behavior and personality.

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

729 notes · View notes

shiraishi-mai · 3 years

Text

[2:00am]

You sat at the end of the table, swaying slightly in your seat. A department event was tonight and your friends finally convinced you to leave the house for once, claiming it would cheer you up.

"And I hate to admit it, but when he's nice, he's amazing," you sniffled. "And handsome."

You grabbed your friend's hands. "Like realllly pretty." You frowned.

"I hate him."

Your classmate looked at your friend amused.

"Is she going on about him again?" He sighed nodding.

"Damn she's been going at it for a while. Three weeks of just ranting about how horrible he was and how in love she was and crying."

"Why'd he have to say all that terrible stuff," you mumbled as you propped your face on your elbow. "Everything was so perfect." Your head nodded downward.

"Did you know she even had a boyfriend?"

"She blurted it out one day when Koko made fun of her for being single. But she studies all the time like she's in the library early in the morning, goes to classes, then studio, and I don't know when she even sleeps let alone have time to get a boyfriend."

"Or even hang out with him?" She spends her weekends either working or at the studio." Your friend frowned. "I kept trying to get her out of the apartment but-" they glanced at your half asleep figure. "Maybe it wasn't such a good idea."

Their eyes widened as you laid your head on the table, cheek squished against the wood and facing away from them.

"y/n, y/n do you want to go home?" your friend tentatively asked.

"Nope, all good!" you threw a thumbs up high enough for him to see behind you without moving your head. "I'm just going to try to get the room to stop rocking." He nodded hesitantly and slowly your friends started conversing about school and other things while you tried to focus on your breathing. You closed your eyes in an attempt to reduce the strong pounding in your temple.

The door to the bar opened and a tall figure walked in scanning the bar. When his eyes landed on you, he drew in a sharp breath as he took in your slumped figure. Even half-passed out drunk, hair mussed, and head plopped on the table, you were so damn pretty.

"Is she sleeping," a familiar voice came from beside you and your eyes tightened in response. You were too out of it to register it and frankly to exhausted to care about whatever was happening around you.

"I don't think so," your other friend said, "But she was drinking a lot."

"y/n, let's go home." The voice was closer to your face now and you could almost feel the warmth radiating from the figure lowered in front of you.

"My head hurts," you whined.

"I know baby, let's get you some painkillers and then you can lie down."

Baby? He's real? Your friend mouthed at your other friend. He was shocked as he observed the very large man crouching in front of you with a soft expression. His yellow hair was a bit damp and his baby face had faint dark circles under his eyes. And you were right, he was handsome. They didn't expect your ex-boyfriend to look like that.

"Let's go pretty girl," he repeated and you slowly opened your eyes.

"'Tsumu I'm tired."

He swallowed as he felt the ache in his chest grow worse. You sounded so tired. A stark contrast to your usual lively self. Were you sleeping properly? Eating? You had a tendency to forget to eat...

You gazed at him and he resisted the urge to stroke your cheek.

"I know. I'm sorry." He frowned. "There's food at home though. Maybe that will make you feel better?"

You gave him a dreamy smile, "Yay food. Okay."

"Okay," he repeated, standing up while you attempted to.

"I don't think she would want you taking her if she was sober," your friend frowned. "y/n didn't you say this morning you didn't want to see him? What if he does something weird?" Atsumu opened his mouth with an offended expression when you said, "It's fine. He's an asshole but he wouldn't pull anything."

"Besides," you breathed, "I'm going to pretend tonight didn't happen anyway."

Ouch. Atsumu thought as you grabbed onto his wrist for support as you made your way out of the bar. When the cool air finally hit you, you sighed in relief as the throbbing in your head finally decreased. There was a small walk to the main road where the cabs were and you debated kicking off your shoes.

A squeal came from your mouth as you realised you were being picke dup.

"This'll be faster," Atsumu said as he carried you bridal style. He wasn't wrong and you didn't want to walk anyway so you just wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned into his warmth.

Having you in his arms and watching you automatically nuzzling into his chest made Atsumu clench his teeth, upset at the whole situation. If he hadn't messed everything up, maybe they would have been at home, snuggling or watching a movie. Or he could have gone with her and met her friends and they would have gone home happily, safely with each other.

***

When you reached the apartment, you fumbled with your keys before stumbling in and turned to stare at Atsumu as he stepped in after you.

"I'm just going to make sure you get to bed and don't hurt yourself." He said with his hands raised. Your face was expressionless as you just turned and walked into your room, flopping on the bed.

"y/n you need to change," he said following you in. "And you said you hate waking up with makeup."

"I don't care," you said quietly and Atsumu closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath as he walked over.

"Princess, sit up for me? Please?"

You sat up sleepily rubbing your eyes.

"Leg," he ordered and you stuck it out in front of you so he could take your boot off. After doing the same with the other, you watched him disappear into the bathroom.

Is he actually here? You thought hazily. He shouldn't be right? I should kick him out.

But you felt the fatigue in your bones and couldn't find the energy to yell or tell him to leave. After the breakup, balancing everything in your hectic life and doing it all with a smile when all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and do nothing was apparently unsustainable.

Seeing Atsumu made you want to wrap yourself around him and never let go. He was your support and had always helped you through bad days. It was ironic that the person you wanted to comfort you and talk about everything with was the cause of the problem.

You were staring at the floor when you felt something damp on your face. Atsumu was slowly dabbing at your cheeks with a wipe, gently taking off your makeup. He wouldn't meet your eyes as you stared at him. His eyes were tired too and something in them didn't look right. HIs entire face seemed less...bright?

"Close your eyes for me." He shook his head, resisting the urge to kiss you and continued.

When you opened them back up he was finishing taking off the last bit of lipstick, mouth slightly open and then smiling softly when he said, "Okay done."

I'm still in love with you. You felt the words bubbling on your tongue.

I love you so much. He felt selfish at the thought.

You sighed and began unbuttoning your shirt and Atsumu's eyes widened.

"H-hey," pink tinged his ears, "Um I'll go get you some water."

It's not like you haven't seen me naked before. You slipped on a shirt thrown on the floor and pulled shorts on.

"You're wearing my shirt," he commented when he came back in. You glanced down and remembered how you had worn it for the past few weeks, trying to find any form of comfort from the hurt you felt.

"It doesn't smell like you anymore," you mumbled, crawling under the blankets. The instant relief you felt as you laid down almost made you moan. Atsumu didn't reply as he gently set the glass of water by your bed stand.

"I guess I'll go now," he said, standing a bit awkwardly and picking up his jacket from the chair. He froze when he reached the door as he heard a quiet sniffle. The desire to be in his arms was driving you crazy and you felt your willpower crumbling.

"Could you stay," you bit your lip and kept your eyes closed. "At least until I fall asleep?"

There was a silence and you cursed yourself for asking, feeling another pang in your chest at the rejection.

You felt the mattress dip and your eyes opened in shock as Atsumu laid down carefully beside you on top of the blanket. He stuck an arm under your neck while the other wrapped around your back and moved you closer to his chest. He smelled like home.

Your tears had finally stopped and both of you sighed in relief as the tightness in your chests lightened considerably and your bodies relaxing for the first time in a while.

"Does your head still hurt?" he asked quietly.

"A bit."

You felt a hand begin to stroke your hair, smoothing out any tangles before resting on your cheek.

"I miss you," he said to the darkness.

"Me too."

"I'm sorry," his thumb stroked your cheek.

"Okay." you moved up to place your head in the crook of his neck and he rested his chin on top of your hair, tightening his arms.

***

You woke up confused. How did I get home?

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a box of meds and a note stuck on top.

"I got you some hangover meds and coffee should be made in the pot. I know you hate waking up alone but I thought it'd be better if I wasn't here. I know it doesn't mean much but, I still love you."

Your lip trembled and you looked up at the ceiling to keep your tears from falling.

"You're such an ass," you whispered. He still loved you but you had already forced Atsumu Miya out of your heart and there was no going back now.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq x reader #atsumu angst #atsumu x reader #atsumu drabble #atsumu miya x reader #ialreadyhaveaparttwolol #hq angst #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles

292 notes · View notes

asupernaturalgirl · 3 years

Text

Bruises At The Bar

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Someone leaves a bruise on the reader when she goes to the bar with some friends. She tries to keep it from Sam so he won’t worry.

A/N: This is a little different than what I’ve written before but I’m hoping you like it. I wanted to highlight the fact that being protective over someone is okay, but stopping them from doing the things they want to do is not and Sam strikes me as the kind of guy that would understand that. I hope everyone enjoys it!

Warnings: Creep at the bar, bruises, worry

...

If you could stay in a hotel and avoid your boyfriend for the next few days, you would. You stood in front of the door to the bunker, contemplating whether or not to go inside and hide the freshly forming bruise on your arm or instead hide yourself for the next few days. The idea of putting Sam in that much of a panic just because of someone that happened at a bar didn’t seem all that appealing to you.

Sam always wanted to give you as much autonomy as he possibly could. He was so respectful and never wanted you to feel like he was holding you back or being too possessive just because he was worried for your safety. That was why he always encouraged you to go out with your friends whenever they were around. It wasn’t healthy to only be around your boyfriend for the rest of your life and he could take a few hours of worrying if it meant you got to live a happy, enjoyable life.

Your best friends had come into town to visit you. You had to be very hush hush about hunting and knowing that you had some profession that required you to be very secretive, your friends had offered to stay in a motel nearby and you could all go out together one night. Sam was so happy to see you happy and encouraged you to do it when you showed hesitance. He said he wanted to make sure you were getting a break from the everyday drain that your lives could be at times.

Everyone was going fine. You’d dressed up nice at their motel and all of you left together, walking into the bar confidently and ordering the drinks you wanted. Occasionally a guy would come up and try to talk to the three of you. The group would playfully flirt until finally telling the men they were just having fun tonight.

One guy got a little bit too into it though. He was flirting specifically with you, obviously very interested in the cleavage that showed in your dress. Used to wearing flannel shirts and jeans, you slowly were becoming more and more self conscious. Finally, you asked the man to leave, telling him you had a boyfriend.

“I’m sorry, but I’m really not interested,” You started, shaking your head and turning your body away just slightly to try to end the conversation. “I’m just out having fun with my friends. I’m actually already with someone.”

“That’s okay,” He leaned in too close, his breath hitting your cheeks. “I won’t tell him we did anything.”

You gave him a warning stare and pushed him away slightly. “Well, you won’t have to because nothing is gonna happen. Now leave, please.”

“C’mon,” He reached up to push a piece of your hair away and you cringed back, trying to move away from him. Your friends had now ended their conversation next to you and noticed the creep you were dealing with. “Just one night. It won’t take long.”

You reached up and moved his hand away from you. You wanted to break his hand, to break his wrist, but it would bring too much attention upon you and you weren’t sure if this was the time to use those skills. Dean had taught you those things for hunting. Would this even be an appropriate time to use it?

“Get away, dude,” You exclaimed firmly, giving him one final warning. Your friends were beginning to back you up, wanting him to go away as well.

Finally, his anger came to an accumulation and he grabbed your arm, pressing so hard that you let out an exclamation of pain. “Ah, what the hell?!”

As soon as the gasp of pain came out, your two friends pushed him away and the bouncer had now become aware of the situation. He quickly walked over, grabbed the man by the back of the shirt and escorted him out of the building. After making sure you were okay and safe, you and your friends decided to call it a night and left the bar.

You finally made the final decision to enter the bunker and attempt to wear long sleeves for a few days until he would inevitably find the bruise and you could pass it off as something other than the imprint of a male’s hand. Pushing your key into the doorknob, you walked into the entry and smiled at Dean who was sitting at the table on his computer and drinking a beer.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” He said, using the affectionate nickname only he used as he turned away from the computer and towards you. “Did you get hammered?”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and chuckled slightly, setting your purse on the hook beside the door and moving towards the table to sit down with him. “Anything to forget the past, Dean. Where’s Sammy?”

He furrowed his brows and covered his heart with his hand. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“Where is he?”

“He’s taking a shower. You know how he has to do anything to not worry about you when you’re gone,” He said, going back to searching on the computer for a small case to go on. We weren’t looking for anything too big recently but if need be, we would go.

Sam tried not to let you know that he worried about you, but you knew he did. When you came home from anything you did alone, a thousand things would always be done. It was the only way to keep his mind busy. After losing so many people he loved, it was nearly impossible for him to just go about life as usual. It wasn’t always bad though. You knew all you had to do was pick up the phone and he would be where you were in a matter of minutes.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” You let out a sigh and pushed back from the table, walking slowly down the hall. “Night, Dean.”

“Good night.”

Your boyfriend stood in the room the two of you shared, a towel around his waist. His muscles flexed slightly as he took another towel to his hair. While you definitely enjoyed his physique, it was the way his eyes lit up when he noticed you that made you feel almost completely better after the eventful visit to the bar.

“Hey, baby,” He said, walking over and kissing you on the lips slightly before going back to dressing from the shower. He put on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, knowing he would be going to bed soon. “How was the bar?”

You walked to the bed and laid down, allowing the muscles in your body to completely relax. “Good. You know that’s not really my scene though. I usually just go for Y/B/F/N.”

He nodded. Whenever Dean would try to drag the two of you to a bar, you would always try to fight it. Usually, you could convince the older brother to go to a diner if you promised to buy him pie. On other occasions, he still forced you to go and you would sit with Sam in the corner, slowly sipping a drink.

Sam crossed the room and got on the bed with you, slowly wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer. “You want to put some pajamas on so you can get ready for bed?”

It was hard to imagine how you were going to pull this off without bringing attention to yourself. You’d been with Sam for a while now and getting dressed in the same room was commonplace. You stood up from the bed and grabbed some clothes to sleep in and began making your way towards the bathroom.

“You gonna take a shower?” He questioned, wondering why you were leaving to the restroom.

There was your excuse. “Yeah, I’m just feeling a little icky from the bar. Bunch of sweaty bodies all together, not a fan.”

He laughed at your explanation of the bar and turned on the TV in the room, decided to watch a bit of television until you came back into the room.

You changed in the bathroom, sliding on one of Sam’s long sleeve t-shirts. It comforted you to have his scent around you. Even though you liked to imagine yourself as a strong, independent woman, and you were, you had still wished for a moment in that bar that Sam would have walked through the doors and helped you. He wouldn’t have even allowed it to get as far as it did.

Exiting the bathroom and slowly padding across the floor, you climbed into bed on top of Sam. He turned off the TV and moved his hands around your waist, holding you close to him. “I’m happy you had fun with your friends. You deserve it more than you know.”

It always made you blush when he talked like this to you. He was so kind, so considerate. “Thank you, Sammy.”

The two of you laid together for a while, enjoyed each other’s company. He would occasionally press a kiss to the side of your head while his hand gently moved up and down your back. You asked yourself constantly how you deserved him? How was this the man that walked into your life all those years ago?

“I need to go get a glass of water,” Sam said, moving to stand up. He moved his hand over and pressed against your arm as he lifted himself from the bed. You let out a wince and tried to quickly cover it up. He had already noticed. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. You winced. What did I do?” He quickly tried to grab your arm but you pulled it away. He didn’t need to worry more than he already did. “Did I hurt you that bad? Just show it to me.”

“Sammy-”

“Y/N, if I hurt you bad, I want to see it,” He was being more stern now, slowly growing frustrated with himself for what he thought he had done. You moved to the side of the bed and let your feet touch the ground.

“You didn’t do it, Sam,” You finally said. If he thought he had hurt you, he would never forgive himself. “It happened at the bar and you just happened to press on it when you got up.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he took in your words. “What do you mean it happened at the bar?”

Sliding up the sleeve on your shirt, you allowed him to see the fingerprint shaped bruises. His eyes widened and he gently took your arm, running his thumb along your skin. “Who did this?”

His eyes met yours. You could see that he was trying to remain cool to keep you calm but could see the fury brewing in his eyes. “This guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was trying to get me to leave with him and he grabbed me a little too hard.”

Sam closed his eyes and kissed the bruise, looking up at you painfully. “I should have been there. I would have made him leave.”

“It was okay, Sammy,” You reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. He always felt guilty when you were hurt. “As soon as it happened, my friends pushed him away and the bouncer got him. Everything was okay.”

“You don’t have to hide things like this from me, Y/N. I want to know when things happen.”

Dean peeked through the open door to say goodnight to Sam and stopped when he saw the position you two were in. “Everything okay?”

He was the one you really had to worry about. While Sam was concerned with respecting your autonomy and making sure you felt supported in your relationship, Dean saw you more as his sister and had no issue telling you no in order to protect you. He didn’t see the same relationship boundaries that Sam did. “Just dealt with a guy at the club.”

The older brother seemed concerned as he moved into the room. He got a look at your arm and clenched his jaw. “What bar?”

“Dean, pipe down. It’s not a big deal. I’m fine, I’m safe. He was just getting a little pushy,” You said it to Dean but directed it to both of the brothers. He bit his lip and rolled his eyes, walking out of the room.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sam apologized. “I’m sorry that you have to deal with this sh*t when you go out to have fun.”

You shook your head. “It happens, Sammy. I just didn’t want you to be worried.”

“I’ll never stop you from doing the things you want to do, Y/N,” He said, pushing your hair back slightly. “Although, I wouldn’t mind if you let me come with you and sit separately next time.”

You laughed and laid back in the bed. It seemed like the best solution for the current problem. “Thank you for being the best boyfriend, Sam.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I know. I am pretty great.”

#supernatural #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagines #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shots #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #dean x reader #imagines #one shots

303 notes · View notes

mythiccheroacademia · 3 years

Text

— what you fight about (pt.2)

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟙

𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤: 𝕚’𝕞 𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪. 𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝕪'𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤. 𝕒𝕝𝕤𝕠 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕨𝕠 𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡𝕖𝕕 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕣’𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜 <𝟛 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕥𝕠𝕩𝕚𝕔 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕣𝕤/𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡𝕤, 𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕥 ℙ𝕋𝕊𝔻, 𝕒𝕟𝕩𝕚𝕖𝕥𝕪, 𝕡𝕖𝕠𝕡𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕪 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪’𝕣𝕖 𝕦𝕡𝕤𝕖𝕥 :/

Tamaki Amajiki:

you love everything about tamaki

all his faults and his strengths

but sometimes…it feels like you’re the only one keeping it together

and to always be the strong one is hard

It had been a difficult two weeks since your last mission.

Perhaps you were naïve to believe you wouldn’t experience a death any time soon. However, you had been bright and hopeful. The hero you worked as a sidekick for rarely got involved in super-high level threats. You dealt with misdemeanors and a few moderate-sized threats.

Maybe you were being stupid. Nevertheless, the tragedy hit you hard. Both physically and mentally.

You were out until you could safely use your quirk again. In the meantime, your fiancé had done all he could to take care of you. But he was worried.

Tamaki couldn’t help but panic. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you better. Honestly, he wanted you back to normal. He just didn’t know how to do it. You were always the strength of the relationship.

He felt so pathetic over his inability to help, spending hours on the phone with Mirio and Neijre crying over the issue. Afterwards, he’d crawl into bed, cheeks wet with tears, and despite your sadness, you’d wrap your arms around him.

You’d comfort him like you always do and it’d make him feel even worse.

You knew he was trying his best and appreciated that. Though, there was a point to which it all got to be too much for you to handle.

Mirio and Neijre came over to help put up some Christmas decorations. You wanted to cancel. Today hadn’t been a good day. However, Amajiki began to worry over your mood again and so you held your thoughts to avoid his tears.

But it seemed like your tears were the ones you should’ve been worried about.

You sat down on a chair and held your head. The world was spinning, and your ears were ringing. Your eyes burned so badly you felt they’d melt out of your head.

“Bunny!?”

“I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I just need a minute.”

“What can I do?” Tamaki rushed to kneel beside you, fear shining in his glossy eyes.

You shook you head balling your fist near your lips to keep in a cry. “I’m fine, baby,” you sniffed, but that was a lie.

Your head was swimming, buzzing, and filled with nothing but noise. No matter how hard you tried to make it go away, you just couldn’t. You couldn’t deal with that or—

“I-I’ll take care of you. Just p-please tell me what to do!” he begged. You could feel his anxiety seeping into your body and it nearly sent you over the edge.

“Tama, please.”

“I can—I can do something. Anything. Anything you want. An-and—"

All you could think about was how you failed the mission, the girl, her parents, your team, your friends, the public, and—

“Amajiki.”

“B-bunny, I know I haven’t been a good fiancé l-lately, but I-I promise I’ll—"

“AMAJIKI!”

Tamaki jumped, eyes wide and body frozen as he took in the near panic in your eyes.

“I CAN’T—” your voice was shrill before you hiccupped, choking back a sob. You squeezed the air by your head, hoping to ground yourself to something that wasn’t there.

“I just can’t deal with you right now, okay? I-I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Your breaths left in puffs as you silently watched his mind work to process your words, and when it did, you saw his heart visibly break.

He grabbed his hand to cradle it into his chest like it was wounded. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper, not even a decibel above faint.

“N-no, it’s…I—I’ll give you some space.”

He tried to offer a brave smile, but it wobbled too much to do anything. The tears that ran down his cheeks seemed to suffocate him, and Tamaki couldn’t bite back his cry in time before he quickly left the room. Mirio worriedly gazed at you before running after his friend.

Your eyes remained transfixed on the space where your fiancé once stood. It wasn’t until moments later, when you felt Neijre’s comforting hands around your torso, that you doubled over and wept.

Togata Mirio:

he’s optimistic

too optimistic sometimes

you love the light he brings into your life

but it’s at the cost of him dismissing your feelings and worries

You checked the backseat when the car stopped at the red light to ensure your sleeping son was still there.

“Two minutes and 20 seconds. That’s a new record babe,” Mirio chuckled.

“Very funny.” You threw an unimpressed glare at your husband before turning back into your seat. “But can you blame me? After the heart attack I had this morning, I wanna chain him to my chest and never let go.”

The blonde hero hummed thoughtfully. “That’s only slightly psychotic.”

“Mirio.”

“I’m kidding!”

You huffed and looked away. You were a bit annoyed over the nonchalance your husband seemed to have over what occurred today.

Your son had presented with a quirk and, to your horror, it was similar to Mirio’s—if not even more dangerous. When you came back to find your baby fading away before sinking into the ground, you screamed like murder.

Mirio had never phased into a room so quickly in his life.

After getting both you and your kid (mostly you) to calm down, you went straight to the hospital to make sure everything was still intact. They gave you some quirk inhibiting medication for your kid, a quick pep talk, and you were on your way back home.

The hectic morning made your son knock out as soon as he hit the car seat. You wanted to follow suit but were too paranoid to do so. In fact, you wanted to hold him—just in case. But Mirio insisted the medication would hold him until you got home. Then he cracked a joke about your kid turning into tumble weed and laughed like it was the funniest thing he ever said.

And he kept making jokes. Like this was funny.

Forget annoyed. It was pissing you off.

Mirio peeked a quick glance over your stiff figure. A small grin graced his lips, and he placed a comforting hand on your thigh.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. I’ll chill with the jokes. Just promise not to blow a gasket on me, will ya?” he smiled.

You averted your eyes away from the moving tress to look at him well. “You could take this a little more seriously, you know?” you said.

“I assure you, I am 100% serious.”

He couldn’t even say that with a straight face. You rolled your eyes, groaning into your head tilt.

“Ooou you get on my nerves—”

“Sunshine, it’ll be fineee,” he happily assured. “It’ll just take some practice before [S/N] gets control of it.”

“[S/N] literally turns invisible before he permeates through surfaces. That’s so scary. I can’t do anything for him unless you're there and even then, that might not always work out. We need to figure something out.”

“His quirk is really not too far from mine. And you remember all the funny things that happened when I was a kid.”

You incredulously looked at him. “Yeah, all the funny near death experiences!”

“And I turned out fine!” Mirio laughed.

You wanted to rip your hair out. There was literally no getting through to him.

“Forget it. I don’t even know why I bother.” You scooted away from his hand, crossing your arms in frustration. “It’s not like you take my feelings seriously anyways.”

That last part was meant for your own ears, however Mirio heard them loud and clear. He turned into the neighborhood, brows subtly scrunching together.

“Now that’s not true. I care about that a lot actually.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Well that was not the answer he expected.

There were a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence before the car reached your garage and was turned off. You two looked forwards for a moment before someone spoke.

“I feel like we should talk about this,” Mirio slowly said, turning to watch for your reaction.

You gave him a glare that caused him to goofily purse his lips. You then got out of the car and went to go unstrap your son so you could hold him until the events of the morning faded from your mind.

As a last resort to make you smile, Mirio permeated his torso through his seat to give you the cheesiest grin.

“I love you, honey bunny~” he sung.

To which he earned a car door slammed in his face.

Dabi:

he’s selfish

you know it and he does too

yet you still stay around because you love him

but it seems like he couldn’t care less about whether or not you do

You impassively sat on the couch of your small apartment. Your hands were folded across your chest, teeth chattering against the raw skin underneath your nail bed. For a minute straight, your knee bounced in place before you stood up and took to pacing in order to release the energy bubbling in your chest.

It felt like hours before your apartment door opened.

Dabi threw his keys onto the closest surface and shrugged off his heavy jacket. You didn’t realize you’d moved before you took the jacket to hang on the wall.

“It’s cold as shit out there,” he shivered.

“Yeah, there’s supposed to be a blizzard sometime soon,” you replied, yet it sounded distant. However, Dabi didn’t seem to notice.

“Can’t wait,” he huffed. A mischievous glint grew in his eyes as he pulled you into his chest by your waist. Usually that would’ve made your thighs tense with anticipation. But all you could do was stand there like dead weight—and again, he didn’t notice. Did he ever? “But I guess it won’t be too bad if I have you to keep me warm, hm?” he smirked.

You stood stiff as he kissed your lips and tears burned your eyes as he moved to your neck, hands affectionately squeezing your hips. The bubbles in your chest rumbled and popped like angry bees when you realized he hadn’t noticed. He never noticed it. He never noticed anything about you. Just like he hadn’t noticed—

“Dabi, what day is it?”

His lips continued to pepper your skin with licks and nips, mindlessly working to find your sweet spot again. “Mmm…Thursday, sweetheart.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I am too.” Dabi looked up and met your stone cold face that looked angrier by the second. He quirked a brow. “What’s up with you?”

“It’s our one year anniversary, you asshole.”

You pushed him away, stomping towards your room. However, Dabi grabbed your arm, pulling you back into the conversation. But instead of hearing an apology, you received an inattentive eyeroll.

“Don’t be like that, doll-face. It’s really not that deep.”

“Excuse me?” you spat. “You said the same thing ever since our 6 month and I let it go, but now you wanna act like this isn’t a big deal? You know how much this means to me.”

“And you know that’s not my style. I don’t care about shit like that.”

“Well I do.” You moved out of his grasp and put distance between yourselves to help you think.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, stress in his movements. “Are we really gonna do this right now, Y/N?”

“Yes! Because you don’t get it!”

Fed up with the argument already, Dabi threw his hands in the air, letting his frustration carry the words through his lips. It had been an awful day, his staples were aching from the weather, and this was making everything worse.

“I already missed the damn thing, what do you want me to do!? You want me to say I’ll make up for it?”

“I want you to care, Dabi!” you desperately exclaimed. “I want you to care about me, about this relationship. Damn it, I want you to care about anything else besides what’s in my pants for once in your life—”

“Well that’s all I wanted until you started asking for more shit and I gave you that. What more do you want from me?” he sneered.

There was a silent pause between you two. You blankly stared at the man you’d come to love despite the hell he put you through. When you observed the honest irritation in his eyes, everything became clear. It was in that moment you realized it wasn’t that he never noticed. It was that he didn’t care. He never did.

That’s when you felt the deep ache of heartbreak nestle between your lungs.

“What more do I want from you,” you repeated, tasting the words. You numbly laughed and nodded your head, silently accepting his truth.

There were no tears, just bitter emptiness.

“Well, uh…you don’t have to worry about that anymore. You won’t be roped into another anniversary with me again.”

It was a moment too late when your soft whisper broke through the angry storm that clouded Dabi’s head. His face sunk with the exhaustion of a man well beyond his years.

“Y/N, baby, can we just talk about this—"

“Leave the spare key on your way out.”

And before he could utter another word, you shut your bedroom door like it was never to be opened again.

#tamaki amakiji #tamaki x reader #suneater #mirio togata #mirio x reader #lemillion #dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #bnha headcanons #mha drabbles #angst

1K notes · View notes

keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

sugar sugar - the planning 1.0

Summary: The planning for their wedding can start 🥰

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Daddy kink, cock warming, some smut

Wordcount: 4.3k

A/N: Did I go out of my way to make edits? Yes

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

October 1st 1 p.m.

‘Where the hell did you get that from?’ I ask Genevieve, who places a large and thick book on the table. On the front cover she wrote THE CAVILL WEDDING in beautiful pink letters (she most likely printed it out, but okay) and I see she went out of her way with some stickers as well. Design like that isn’t really her forte, but the slight amateurism in it, makes me chuckle.

It has overdoing it by Genevieve Donahue written all over it.

‘See this as a little preparation,’ Genevieve says. ‘I want to make getting married as easy for you as I possibly can.’

I look over to Viola, who takes a sip of her drink. ‘We knew about the proposal back in July,’ she explains. ‘Henry wanted our input on the engagement ring. Gen wouldn’t be Gen if she didn’t go out of her way, already looking for certain stuff.’

Henry fixes his tie, since he is going to work, but he still hears what my friends are saying to me. ‘It’s a cute book,’ he says.

‘You already saw it?’ I ask.

‘Of course. I wanted their input on the ring, they wanted my input on their ideas.’

‘Hm, I see. Gen, I’m not gonna lie. I’m very keen on on checking out that book.’

My friends squeal and are absolutely delighted that this is happening and I am thankful they are willing to help me. I have great ideas, but my planning skills are severely lacking. Besides, calling for appointments? Those are my worst nightmares.

‘Okay ladies, I’m going to work,’ Henry says, walking up to the table where we’re all seated. He sits next to me and places his hand in the back of my neck. ‘If you need anything, just call me, okay?’

‘Of course,’ I say.

He gives me a kiss and whispers: ‘Remember, no budget, okay?’

I roll my eyes, but simply nod. Ever since we got engaged, he continues to tell me we don’t have a budget for the wedding and while that is of course amazing, it’s not like I want to spend a million dollars (if not more) on a party. Sure, having the wedding of my dreams is amazing, but I’d rather invest in a great marriage. ‘I love you, honey.’

He smiles. ‘Love you too, darling.’ He gets up, grabs the keys and as he says his final goodbyes, he walks out of the penthouse.

‘Fuck, he is so hunky,’ Genevieve says. ‘Goodness me, that ass on that man.’

Normally I’d scold her, but now I simply can’t. I let out a giggle and say: ‘And he is my fiancé!’ I obnoxiously wave my hand in front of their eyes, showing off the ring like I have been doing that for quite some time now. ‘Oh, I still can’t believe that.’

‘He is so romantic,’ Viola says. ‘I mean, we all knew he was totally smitten with you in the first place, but going engagement ring shopping with him… Gosh, it was absolutely endearing.’

‘You have no idea how nervous he was,’ Genevieve says. ‘So sweet. He kept double checking with us, because he wanted to make sure you would like the ring.’

I look at it and say: ‘I love it. It’s so bizarre. Who would’ve guessed that I would ever get engaged?’

‘I do,’ Viola says. ‘Have you seen yourself? Of course you would get engaged to the most desirable man on this planet.’

I blush. ‘Still so crazy.’

‘And,’ Genevieve continues, ‘he said no budget, so this wedding is gonna be amazing.’

‘He maybe said no budget, but I’m saying we do have a budget. I swear, if you guys cross a line—’

‘We won’t,’ the voice of reason named Viola says. ‘Promise.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Genevieve, Viola and I went through the book and thankfully my friends already did a lot of work together with some input of Henry. Genevieve told me she is gonna make an appointment for a wedding dress and bridesmaids dress fitting.

She circled in the book full of magic the venue that Henry really liked and thankfully, that was my personal favorite as well. When the two of us finally make a decision about the date, we can arrange it.

Thankfully, she (and Henry as well) is willing to make the calls. Calling makes me nervous, because I can’t see the other person’s face. Henry does most of the calls, if not all of them and while he doesn’t mind, I sometimes hate myself for not being able to put on my big girl shoes and call myself.

By the time my two friends left, I am in the penthouse by myself. Henry told me he’d be home soon and soon really is soon, because the door opens not long after I made myself comfortable on the couch, looking through the wedding book again.

‘There she is,’ Henry says as he enters the living room, ‘my gorgeous fiancée.’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘Are you gonna keep doing that?’

‘Until you and I get married, yes. After that, I’m gonna replace fiancée with wife and you’ll probably be sick of me very soon.’

‘Never,’ I chuckle. ‘Never ever.’

He sits next to me on the couch and presses a kiss on my lips. ’So, did you ladies make some progress?’

I nod and tell him that Genevieve is gonna call for some appointments, for some fitting sessions.

‘Genevieve is gonna call?’ he chuckles.

‘Don’t make fun of me,’ I say, squeezing his side. ‘Tell me, you have a date in mind?’

He simply shrugs. ‘What kind of wedding would you like, baby girl?’

‘Probably a spring wedding,’ I say with a smile. ‘Spring is gorgeous. I love spring.’

He smiles. ‘How about we get married somewhere in April?’ he suggests. ‘It’s usually nice spring weather.’

‘Yeah?’ I ask him. ‘You sure you want a spring wedding?’

‘Honey, you know what I think. I could literally get married to you any second of whatever day. Name a date and we’ll get married then.’

‘April twenty second,’ I say. ‘That sounds like a cute date, doesn’t it?’

‘April twenty second it is. Something happened on that date or…?’

I shake my head. ‘No, it’s just a cute date. Oh, wait a minute. We could do April twenty fifth, if you want the date to be significant.’

His brows knit together in confusion. ‘What happened on April twenty fifth?’

I gasp out loud. ‘You don’t remember?’

He makes a face. ‘I really don’t, I’m sorry, baby. Please enlighten me.’

‘It’s the first time I accidentally called you daddy. During the one and only driving lesson I had.’

‘Oh,’ Henry says with a smile. ‘That’s right, you did call me daddy for the first time then. That’s a great date, the two of us should get married then.’

‘Why?’

‘Because that’ll be our little secret then.’ He presses a kiss on my nose and says: ‘I remember your color drenched face. You were the human embodiment of mortified.’

‘Shut up.’ I hide my face in my hands and say: ‘The shame I felt was uncanny.’

‘I know,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, if it made you feel better, it did turn me on quite a lot.’

‘Oh dear, did you masturbate because of it?’ I joke.

His eyes dart from one point in the room to the other. ‘I might’ve.’

I certainly wasn’t expecting that. ‘No way!’ I exclaim. ‘Oh my goodness, you did? This is such a compliment.’

His cheeks turn red and says: ‘I couldn’t help it, okay. You looked so cute that day and I kept hearing the word leaving your lips. Of course I had to. But then you said it again on my birthday,’ he continues.

‘Remember what happened on your birthday?’ I chuckle.

‘How could I ever forget?’ Henry runs his tongue over his bottom lip. ‘My naughty lady wearing a thong to the club. Still can’t believe you did that.’

I giggle. ‘You always had this dominant edge to you, but that night it was totally obvious what a dom you are.’

Henry starts to laugh, but that is mostly to mask his slight embarrassment. ‘Do you have to say it like that.’

‘Of course I’m gonna say it like that.’ I straddle his thick thighs, as it’s my favorite spot to sit on. ‘You know, I actually don’t mind it at all.’

��What do you mean?’

‘It maybe sounds a bit dependent of me on you, but I like that I can follow you through life. That you show me how to do certain stuff, how you kinda lead me through it all. Believe it or not, I need that guidance. I need you calling for me, I need you to drive me from place to place and I need your encouragement before those book events or other events that make me nervous. What I most need are your praises.’

He smiles. ‘You’re sweet.’

‘It is? You’re sure it’s not submissive in a negative sense?’

He shakes his head. ‘Absolutely not. I get it, baby, with the life you had, it can feel nicer to be guided. I will happily be that person for you.’

I give him a kiss, a sign as a thank you. ‘It’s funny how faith works sometimes, isn’t it? You and I sign up on a sugar daddy/baby site and eventually, when we finally admitted our feelings towards one another, we’re here. As an engaged couple.’

‘It sure is amazing,’ he says, pushing up my shirt to place his rough hands on my sides. ‘Did you, Gen and Viola find some inspiration?’

‘We did some Pinteresting,’ I admit. ‘To find the perfect wedding dress. And some bridesmaids dresses. It’s just that planning with Genevieve, means probably a million dollar wedding.’

‘Okay,’ he says, but I glare at him. ‘What?’

‘We’re not having a million dollar wedding. Really, I don’t want that.’

He nods. ‘Then we’ll have a less expensive wedding,’ he chuckles. ‘Just don’t worry about the money, just whatever feels good for you.’

I smile and give him a kiss. For a few seconds, something is brewing inside my brain and it rolls out before I can even overthink it. ‘Do we need to talk about a prenup?’ I ask him. For Henry this comes totally out of the blue, because his eyes enlarge. ‘Or not?’ I quickly add. ‘We don’t need to discuss it now.’

‘You and I are not gonna get a divorce.’

‘No, no, no, I know that,’ I say, ‘it’s just that I kinda thought about it already. I think that we should have it. You worked hard for your money and I don’t want to take that away from you. Besides—despite me telling you to stop—you continue to transfer money to mine, yet refuse to let me pay for myself, so you constantly hide my credit card to give me yours.’ I send him a look, causing him to grin. ‘I have enough money to start a life for myself.’

‘But baby,’ he says, ‘even if we get a divorce in the future, before that I am planning on making you the mother of our children.’

Hearing him say that, makes me involuntarily smile. A family with Henry, I cannot believe that. ‘And?’

‘You think I’m not gonna provide for my family? I would be an absolute asshole if I did that. You can count on alimony, both for the kids and you. I’ll make sure you and I can continue to live civil with each other. Really.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Henry,’ I say with a smile, ‘you are so fucking romantic.’

‘I know. So no prenup for us and don’t you dare ever saying that again.’

‘Sure?’

‘I’m absolutely sure, baby girl.’

October 20th 10 a.m.

After Henry and I agreed on the date (April 25th, a little dirty secret of ours), he called the venue we’ve been thinking about for some time. Genevieve, Viola and I are now sitting in the Range Rover, as Henry is going to drop us off at the boutique.

‘This is so exciting, wedding dress shopping,’ Gen says. ‘Just humor me and put on a princess ball gown, please.’

‘And why would I do that?’

‘I want to have a laugh and maybe, if it actually looks decent, I’ll hire you as a birthday princess for when I have daughters.’

I roll my eyes. ‘I hate you.’

‘You love me.’

Viola laughs. ‘Well, I can’t wait for you to find the dress.’

‘Me neither,’ Henry says, holding my hand in his, before pressing a kiss on my fingers. ‘You sure you don’t want me to see it?’

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘I am one hundred percent sure. I want you to be surprised.’

‘And you better cry at the altar,’ Genevieve says, ‘otherwise I’ll force her to walk down the aisle again and again and again, until you cry. I could even help you out, you know, by punching you in the nose, that’ll make you cry.’

Henry can’t hide his amusement. ‘I’ll probably be teary eyed,’ he says. ‘That’s enough for you?’

‘No,’ Genevieve says. ‘I want the real deal. Ugly cry, snot, red blotches on your skin.’

‘I don’t,’ I say. ‘We have to take pictures later on.’

‘Okay, let’s not jump the gun,’ Viola says. ‘We’ll make sure she looks stunning in the dress, Henry. We promise.’

✤ ✤ ✤

I don’t know how many dresses I’ve tried on, but I think this might be the one. The fit is simple, but that seems like something that would be totally me. It’s on the tighter side, but with the straps loosely on my shoulders and the deeper neckline than I wanted, but not overly too much, I realize this is actually could be the one.

I show my two friends, who both have tears in their eyes. ‘This is the one, right?’ I ask them.

Always overly dramatic, Genevieve grabs some tissues and blows her nose. ‘It’s beautiful, Beck,’ she says. ‘You look like such a bride. It’s so real now.’

‘Right?’ I ask with a chuckle, mostly to cover up the fact that I want to cry. ‘It’s… It’s perfect.’

Viola stands up and gives me a hug. ‘I love you, Becky,’ she says. ‘Is it April 25th already?’

‘No, time passes by too damn slowly,’ Genevieve says, before forcing herself into the hug as well. ‘You’re gonna look like an absolute vision. If Henry doesn’t cry, I’ll skin him alive in front of the altar.’

November 3rd 4 p.m.

It’s been a long day. I spend around four hours with Genevieve and Viola looking for bridesmaids dresses and there have been a few changes made. A very significant one and it is still a shock to me.

I walk into the living room, to see Henry sitting on the couch with some papers in his hands and oh dear, he is wearing his glasses. Sometimes I feel like he is doing it on purpose, looking so perfect like that.

‘I have a confession,’ I tell him.

Henry looks up. ‘And what is that?’

‘The bridesmaids dresses are not gonna be pink.’

‘What?’ Henry asks, as he is standing up from the couch. He places his hand on my forehead when he stands in front of me. ‘Are you okay? Do I need to call a doctor?’

I swat his hand away. ‘Very funny, ha-ha. Every pink dress was not in the right shade of pink, however, I found a better color.’

‘Can I see?’

‘Of course.’ I grab my phone and show him the picture I made of Viola and Genevieve. ‘It’s sage green.’

‘Oh, I love this,’ Henry says. ‘I’ll tell the tailor, to make sure that Peter and Gino wear a tie in that color.’

‘It’s so beautiful and it feels a bit more real now,’ I whisper. ‘First a wedding dress, then these dresses.’ I blink my eyes and say: ‘I’ve been a mess this entire afternoon.’

‘Not a mess, just my emotional baby girl,’ he chuckles, giving me a kiss. ‘It’s getting more and more official now. Oh, by the way, darling. Something came for you in the mail.’

I gasp. ‘Is it what I think it is?’ I ask him, following him to the table. He hands me the envelope and I start to squeal. ‘Daddy, this is the interview for Books4U.’

‘I figured. Open up, open up,’ he says, sitting on a chair, pulling me on his lap. I rip open the envelope, careful not to ruin the magazine. I go through the pages quickly, to find the my interview.

‘How is it possible for someone to look so effortlessly gorgeous in a random cafe?’ he asks. His hands traveled from my legs to underneath my shirt. He places them on my stomach and I don’t feel like I need to have suck in my stomach. It took me quite some time to get used to it, but with his sweet words, I realized I can be myself around him. No more sucking in, needing to be perfect (which I knew for a while), but simply be comfortable as much as I needed to be.

‘It’s so crazy to think that this interview was truly happening,’ I say with a smile.

‘I’m proud of you,’ Henry says, burying his face in my neck. ‘So, so proud of you.’

December 16th 3 p.m.

I joined Henry to his tailor for the right suit, but something has been bothering him for quite some time now. He hasn’t been himself this entire morning and when the tailor walks away for just a second, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I get up from the chair to walk towards my fiancé. ‘Honey, what’s wrong?’ I ask him. ‘You don’t like it?’

‘I love it, baby, I really do,’ he says blankly, staring ahead.

‘What’s with the long face then?’

‘Just realization,’ he says, as he runs his fingers through his hair. ‘I’m going to marry the most beautiful woman on the planet and I just want to look good.’

‘But you do,’ I say, placing my hands on his hips. ‘You are the most handsome man I have ever seen in my life. Don’t you worry a thing, you’re gonna look amazing.’

‘It’s silly, just forget about it.’

‘It’s not silly.’ I stand on my toes and give him a kiss. I quickly check if there is no one within hearing distance and I say: ‘I love you and only you, daddy.’

‘Always knowing exactly how to make me feel better,’ he chuckles.

‘Of course. I’m gonna be your wife. It’s my job to make you feel better.’ I wrap my arms around his waist and he presses his lips on my forehead. ‘I love the suit. Makes your toosh look cute.’

He smiles. ‘Let me change, then we’re going home, okay?’

I nod. ‘Of course. I’ll be right here.’

Henry talks to his tailor for a few more moments after he got changed and when he walks over to me, I get up from the chair, holding his hand tightly in mine. His hand is warm and protective. As we’re going towards the car, he tugs me closer, a lot closer.

Like he needs me.

Henry can’t seem to be able to forget about it, not even when we’re in the car. His hand’s on my leg, but mostly since it’s a force of habit. I hate that he is feeling like this. I wonder what made him this insecure and unsure of himself.

‘Daddy,’ I say, since we’re in the privacy of our car, ‘are you still worrying?’

‘A little,’ he says. ‘It’s ridiculous, I’m sorry.’ Henry parks the car on his assigned parking spot underneath our building and he clenches his jaw. ‘Wait here.’ He gets out of the car and opens the door, but there is something missing.

Love.

When we’re inside of our apartment, he walks towards his liquor cabinet and grabs himself a whiskey. ‘I’m gonna be in my office.’

In other words: I want to be alone.

‘Okay, let me know if you need anything,’ I say to him. He simply nods and disappears into his office.

✤ ✤ ✤

It’s been a few hours and I still haven’t spoken to him. He has left his office, to go to the bathroom and I hear he is in the shower. I don’t even knock on the door and simply march in. ‘Are you okay?’

‘No,’ he grunts. ‘Get in here.’

He is mad and clearly frustrated. Oh dear. I shred myself from my clothing and get in the shower cabin with him. He is sitting on the tile bench, his jaw clenched. I try not to notice his hardened cock, but I do. How could one not notice?

‘Come here,’ he says, not even looking at me, patting his thigh.

I turn the shower head a little, so I can feel the hot water against my skin. I straddle his lap, like he wants me to. He places his forehead against mine and sighs deeply. My arms snake around his neck, as I press my chest against his. ‘Let me in, daddy,’ I whisper. ‘Please tell me what is bothering you.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You can. You can always tell me everything.’

He groans, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of my butt. My hand reaches in between us and I wrap my fingers around his member.

‘Want me to comfort you?’ I ask him, when he isn’t quite responsive to me pleads. ‘I can do that.’

He simply nods and I rub his fiery red tip against my clit. Henry closes his eyes as he leans his head back against the tiles. When I know I can take it, I bring him near my throbbing entrance, before he slides deep inside of me. His jaw is clenches and he grunts, both from pleasure and relief from the frustration.

I take a deep breath, getting used to his length and girth. ‘Now, tell me about it,’ I say. ‘Please, daddy. Let me help you.’

He sighs. ‘I remembered something. A picture of my parents when they got married.’ It’s obvious that Henry doesn’t want to look at me, so I pull him closer. I feel him placing his chin on my shoulder and not having to look at me, is better for him. Now he can talk to me.

‘When I saw myself in that tux, specifically for our wedding, I saw that picture again.’

‘Oh,’ I whisper. ‘Did that trigger something?’

‘It did.’

‘I’m sorry, honey. But remember, you’re not your dad. We’re not your parents. You and I are totally different.’

‘He visited me again the other day,’ he says. ‘My dad. It was right after your interview came out.’

‘Oh,’ I say, a bit taken aback from the sudden bomb he dropped. ‘Did you file a restraining order against him?’

He shakes his head. ‘No, he wanted to congratulate me on our engagement,’ Henry says. ‘It’s… It was different seeing him now. He gave me that picture I just told you about. Said to me that I had to do better than he ever did, which would be easy. When he left, I got so mad, but I had to pick you up, so I pushed it aside.’

Isn’t that typical? ‘How long ago was this?’

‘Three weeks.’

‘Henry!’

‘I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you, but I… I couldn’t. I hated feeling like this and I didn’t want to burden you.’

I sit up straighter so I can look at him again. ‘You can never burden me,’ I tell him, in a harsher tone than I intended. ‘I need you to tell me about your feelings.’

‘I’m sorry, baby,’ he whispers. ‘Shit, I’m so sorry.’

I run my fingers through his hair and he gives me a kiss. It’s a desperate one, one that deepens. He forces me to grind on his lap, his cock already twitching. ‘What do you need?’ I ask him, knowing that scolding him won’t do him any good. ‘Please, tell me what you need.’

‘You, baby girl,’ he says. ‘I need you.’

‘Then have me.’

✤ ✤ ✤

Henry is barely showing any mercy to me. His eyes are a few tints darker, his jaw is clenched and he has a tight grip on my body. His thrusts are growing even more rough as he would bend me in a position, exactly to his own liking.

I notice the tears running over his face and place my hands on his cheeks, wiping them away. ‘It’s okay,’ I say to him, when our eyes meet. ‘It’s okay.’

His hips stutter against mine and he gives me a kiss on my lips as he rides out his high. He nearly collapses on me, without any intention of him pulling out. With no intention. I love his weight on me, I love how no matter how tired he is, he always makes sure I won’t be crushed underneath him.

‘Daddy, are you okay? Tell me you feel better.’

‘I do,’ he says. ‘I love you. I love you so much and I should’ve told you sooner. Never keeping this quiet from you. You are my girl, my lady, my wife and I should tell you these types of things. I know that.’

‘Next time something like this happens,’ I say, ‘know that you can tell me. You can tell me anything.’

‘I know that,’ he says. He turns us around, so he is on his back and I’m on top of him. He pulls the covers over our body and holds me close to him. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

‘Of course not,’ I say. ‘You needed this, I know that.’

‘It won’t happen again,’ he promises me. ‘Like the real adult I am, I’m gonna talk about my feelings.’

‘I’m proud of you, daddy. So proud of you.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x becky kim #sugar daddy!henry cavill #sugar sugar #asian ofc #becky kim #sugar sugar the wedding

125 notes · View notes

azucanela · 4 years

Text

6. LOCKED IN A CLOSET | BAKUGOU KATSUKI

1K CELEBRATION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: In which Mina Ashido gets sick of the pining turned avoiding, so she decides the best course of action is to steal the Janitor’s keys and lock her idiotic friends in a closet until they sort themselves out.

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: kissing, pining, stealing, references to events in season three, damn?

A/N: i was considering using another gif and realized that bakugou’s hands literally SMOKE after he uses his quirk

This was the last straw.

Mina had been observing Bakugou for a while now, and she had determined a few things. First of all, Bakugou does care, he just has his own weird way of showing it, his concerns were laced in with his insults in an attempt to prevent others from noticing that he cared. Even though he would complain about the presence of Mina and the rest of the Bakusquad, he’d never outright kicked them out of his room. And when they needed help, with anything, he’d be there. Studying happened to be something they did together frequently, and though Bakugou insisted on insulting them every five seconds, he was actually a fairly good teacher. Then again, Bakugou also sought to be good at everything.

The second thing Mina had noticed was that actions like this were far more pronounced whenever he was with Y/N L/N. It seemed the girl made him, ‘soft’ to put it simply, not that Mina would ever say that out loud, seeing as she wanted to live to see another day. But it was clear in the way he encouraged the girl, pushing her to work as hard as she could, and yet when she overworked, he was there to keep her from the edge. It had been pretty obvious the day he’d offered Y/N his lunch because she’d forgotten her own, and sure, his offering was couple with a few insults about how foolish she was to forget her meal, but it was an offering nonetheless.

It was then that Mina began to wonder if Bakugou could feel things other than anger. She’d tried to ask him herself, but he’d simply blushed furiously and begun cursing her out. So, Mina hatched her plan to try and get him to admit feeling something for Y/N. She’d send Kirishima to ask him about it, only for the boy to come back with holes blown into his clothes by Bakugou’s infamous explosions. Then, she’d tried to get Kaminari to hit on Y/N, to gauge Bakugou’s reaction.

That didn’t end well for Kaminari.

Prior to beginning her effort to bring the two together, she’d gone to Y/N to determine if the possible feelings were mutual. Though the only answer she got was, “I don’t see why it matters, Mina.” Which Mina had a feeling meant, “yes I do, but I doubt Bakugou would like me back since he has his sights set on being a hero.” Not that Mina needed confirmation, she just would’ve preferred it, though the few times Y/N had offhandedly mentioned Bakugou in conversation were confirmation enough.

But no, watching Bakugou, seated closely beside Y/N as he explained the homework that had baffled her, Mina knew that whatever Bakugou felt for Y/N, it was far from platonic. He hadn’t cursed, hadn’t called her an idiot or some other crude name, hadn’t teased her for not understanding the concept they’d been learning in class all week. No, he’d simply told her to shut up and listen as he explained. If Mina had made such a request, he would’ve told her to start paying attention in class, or to quit being such a damn idiot.

This, this was the last straw. Now, this definitely wasn’t Mina’s brightest idea, I mean, who in their right mind would lock Bakugou Katsuki in a closet? Nobody. And yet, there Mina stood— with keys she’d asked Sero to... borrow from the school janitor— ramming the keys into the keyhole and locking the door behind Bakugou and Y/N. Mina refused to watch the pair pine for each other any longer. If they wanted to simp for each other mutually, then they would do it as a couple.

Also, Mina just loved to play matchmaker with her friends.

“LET US OUT OF HERE RACCOON EYES.” Bakugou called out, fist ramming against the door as he glared at the girl through the door, not that this was possible.

He could hear Mina begin to laugh as she simply replied, “sort yourselves out and then I’ll let you out.” All the subtle hints of their true feelings disappeared after Y/N accompanied Midoriya and his friends to save Bakugou, Mina was fairly sure that Bakugou was avoiding Y/N at this point, though she couldn’t come up with a good reason why, aside from the kidnapping itself. So now, she would force them to make up, and hopefully confess their feelings.

The tension was getting tiring for everyone in their class.

This only serves to anger Bakugou more, and Y/N seems to take notice of this as Bakugou feels her hand come to his shoulder, he can’t help but hate the way he relaxes as he turns to see Y/N, shaking her head, “Calm down.”

“Yeah, Katsuki, we’ll be back in an hour. Have fun, lovebirds.” Mina could vividly recall the day Y/N had accidentally called him by his first name, the boy’s cheeks had become a bright red, but when Y/N tried to correct herself, he shut her down almost immediately. And yet Mina couldn’t even remember the last time the two had even acknowledged each other now.

These words earn a growl frmo Bakugou, who is moving backwards to aim his palms at the door, hoping to activate his quirk and blow the door down, only for his back to hit Y/N. “I don’t think using your quirk would be the best idea.”

“Well do you have a better idea?” She was right, if he used his quirk, it could easily do more harm than good. Bakugou wasn’t sure how reinforced the doors of the school were, especially in light of all the recent attacks, he also didn’t want to pay for any damage he did. That and he could easily end up harming Y/N in the process.

She exhales deeply, hands moving to his shoulders to force him to turn around in the small closet and face her. “We wait until someone comes by, the janitor will definitely be looking for his keys.”

Bakugou evades her gaze he turns to glare at the locked door once more, “what if no one comes by and we have to wait for those idiots to come back?” Y/N shrugs, looking behind her before moving to sit on the ground, just for Bakugou look back to her incredulously, “what the hell are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable.” Y/N brings her knees to her chest, resting her head on top of them as she continues, “it’s not like she’d free us until we sorted ourselves out.” The words come out harsher than Y/N intended, but she was annoyed at the way Bakugou had been treating her recently, the way he was obviously avoiding her.

The boy before her grimaces, but settles down against the door nonetheless. The closet isn’t that large, Even with his knees bent, there still isn’t much space between him and Y/N, who had taken to staring at one of the many cleaning products in the room, rather than him. “There’s nothing to sort out.”

A bitter laugh escapes Y/N as she returns her gaze to him eyes narrowing, “you’ve been avoiding me for weeks and there’s absolutely nothing to sort out?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grumbles out, averting his eyes from her cold gaze.

And suddenly Y/N is grabbing one of the boxes of tissues on the shelf beside and and throwing it at Bakugou, hitting him square in the chest because of his spread legs. “What the hell?”

“I’m gonna keep throwing stuff at you—” She picks up another item, this time a spray bottle, “until you are honest with me.” Comes her response, throwing the item, only for Bakguo to catch it, placing it down beside it.

Y/N is already moving to grab something else off the shelf as Bakugou begins to protest, “hey—Hey! Cut it out.” Y/N is already throwing an unopened bottle of hand soap, which Bakugou dodges, glaring at Y/N as he hears it hit the door behind him. “Y/N, I swear if you—” she doesn’t break eye contact as she reaches beside her for another object, only for Bakugou to launch himself forwards and grab her wrists to prevent her from continuing her assault. “Stop.” There’s a tone of finality in voice, but Y/N disregards it as she begins to speak.

“You ready to talk yet?” She makes an attempt to yank her hands from his grasp, but Bakugou’s grip remains firm as he holds her. “Because I am sick of this, Bakugou.”

He pauses, brows furrowing as his grip on her wrists loosens and he releases them, “what did you just call me?”

“Your name.”

Bakugou is scowling now, falling back into a seat, though he’s no longer pressed against the door as he replies, “that’s not my name and you know it.”

Y/N can’t help but scoff, “first names are reserved for people who you care about.” He’d barely been interacting with her these past few weeks, ever since his kidnapping. Y/N had a feeling that had something to do with his behavior, but she’d assumed he had needed space to process, until space turned into Bakugou avoiding her entirely. She’d confided in Mina about the possibility once, and the girl had simply told her to confront Bakugou.

That was easier said than done.

“Do you really think I don’t care about you?” He asks, disbelief clear in his voice as he watches her, “Y/N, you could’ve died going to save me like the damn idiot you are. And what would I have done?!”

Y/N inhales deeply, bringing her hands to her face as she begins to speak once more, “Bakugou-”

“Don’t call me that.” He snaps, looking away from her, silence engulfs the pair as Y/N stares at him, still processing his words when he decides to continue, “I thought things couldn’t get any worse, but seeing you there? ” Bakugou runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it as he contemplates what to say next momentarily, before looking back up at Y/N, “I’ve never felt more horrified. So don’t you dare say I don’t care.”

Y/N is about to respond when the small light above them began to flicker to nothing, effectively darkening the room. Y/N can hear Bakugou rise to a stand, hand coming to the wall and ficking the light switch a few times, only for nothing to happen. Her breath hitches as she grabs the edge of one of the shelves, rising to her feet as well. “Do you think the power went out?”

Y/N can hear the way Bakugou inhales shakily, causing her to reach out for him, hand meeting his chest. Y/N could’ve sworn she could feel his heart beating as her hand fisted at the material of his shirt in an attempt to bring him closer to her. “You don’t think it;s an attack do you?”

Oh.

“It’s not, this is just an old light.” She assures, pulling him closer, something Bakugou doesn’t fight. “Bakugou.” Y/N mutters, trying to garner his attention, she can’t see his face right now, and he seems to have gone completely silent save for his breathing. “Bakugou,” she repeats, brows furrowing from his lack of response. “Katsuki, listen to me.”

A hand comes to her arm, grasping it tightly, “what?”

“Your quirk— do you think you could make an explosion small enough to light up the room and not cause any damage?” Seeing as they were in a room filled with highly flammable chemicals, it was a gamble, but Y/N had a feeling this would do more good than bad.

He doesn’t respond, simply removing his hand from her and taking a step back, Y/N can hear a small crackle as the room lights up spottily, small explosions at Bakugou’s fingertips. His brows are drawn together, attention focused on his hand that was now lighting up the room,

Y/N found herself bringing her hand to Bakugou’s forearm as she moved closer, causing him to look up at the small explosions faltered. “See?” She mumbled, “we’re safe.” Y/N is rubbing small circles in his arm as she looks up at him, meeting his eyes.

“You don’t know that.”

Shaking her head, Y/N replies, “are you calling me a liar?” She brings her free hand to the back of his neck, hand tangling with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I didn’t say that.” He grumbles, the small explosions now steadily brightening the room. “And be careful, idiot.” Bakugou tries to pull away from her, worried that the explosion could harm her, but Y/N doesn’t accept this, grip on his hair tigtening.

She scoffs, eyes narrowing as she looks around the room for something that could help them escape the closet, to no avail. Y/N fails to notice the way Bakugou’s eyes trail over her, watching as her face is lit up by the glow of his explosions. When Y/N turns to look back at him, she doesn’t expect his eyes to already be on her, and can feel the her cheeks warm.

Their eyes lock and and Y/N finds herself moving closer to Bakugou, he makes no attempts to stop her this time, but Y/N can see red blossom on his cheeks in the glow of his explosions, which were beginning to become more infrequent. It’s not until the explosions come to a stop entirely that Bakugou presses his lips to hers, his warm hand coming to her side as he pulls her closer.

Y/N’s hand leaves his hair to grip his other arm, just for Bakugou to force them to switch places without his lips leaving hers. He forces Y/N’s back against the door, only for her to pull away, mouth gaping open as Bakugou’s lips find their way to her neck as he breathes heavily.

“That was a very sudden change of pace.” Y/N mumbled, a small laugh escaping her.

Bakugou grunted in reply, playfully biting at Y/N’s neck and causing her to swat at his chest gently, before looking back up to her, not that either of them could see much. Despite this, Bakugou’s hand finds its way to Y/N’s face gripping her chin as he brings her into a much shorter kiss, “you’re my girlfriend.”

It wasn’t really a question, mostly because Bakugou wasn’t asking, but it wasn’t a demand either. Even though she couldn’t see him, Y/N could practically feel Bakugou’s eyes burning into her, awaiting a response, whether it was an agreement or not.

“Okay, Katsuki.”

A/N: well that escalated quickly, also i hate editing kjashkjdahskjdh

TAGLISTS[lmk if you wanna be added or removed via reply or askbox]:

BNHA: @shawkneecaps @beifongsss

BAKUGOU KATSUKI: @hadespleasesteponmyneck

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #bnha x you #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugou x you #y

929 notes · View notes

jujutsubabe · 3 years

Text

Similar Undertones

Itadori x reader

Word count: 3.2k

Song recommendation: Take me where your heart is-Q

Synopsis: Itadori and you go on your first car date together and he is freaking out.

Megumi and Nobara were going to absolutely lose it within the next three seconds. There was nothing new being talked about as Itadori repeated the same question in ten different ways.

“If this is our first car ride together do we hold hands while I drive? Or Is that too forward?”

“Wait, do you think it’s sexist if I want to drive? I kinda don’t want her to drive, it’s pretty late... wait— not saying she can’t do it! Women are strong! It’s just— is it rude to drive her?”

“Should I make a playlist of her favorite songs...? I’ve been saving them.”

Nobara and Megumi stared at the dork sitting in front of them. His questions didn’t have any more depth than this, you had a chaotic effect on this guy. The boy who never thinks before acting, is actually thinking. All it took was a quick “I’m hungry, can we go to McDonald’s?” from you to put him into absolute shock.

It should have been a casual answer, like “yeah I’ll get you now.” But no, the poor boy only officially asked you out a week ago after months and months of crushing on you. So he needed a full hour to mentally prepare himself enough to not ruin this moment with you.

“Itadori you’re giving me chills.” Nobara rubbed her arms. “Why can’t you two be normal?”

“Don’t put me in the same category as him.” Megumi rubbed his face. “Itadori why can’t you ask her what she wants?”

Itadori sunk into his bed, throwing his arms around wildly. “Are you kidding? If I asked her all that she would think I’m crazy.”

“She doesn’t know that already?” Megumi asked and Nobara cackled beside him.

Itadori whined into his pillow kicking his legs. “I don’t wanna mess this up, this is my first real girlfriend and if we broke up...”

If you looked at him with disgust before making up some random excuse to leave? If you started avoiding him in the city as he passed you by? if you went on with your lives not knowing each other anymore and then years later going to your wedding as a guest? Somehow getting the task of being a godfather and babysitting your kids for the rest of his life? Then becoming a school janitor and accidentally drowning in one of the toilets?

He could imagine it all now, you standing at his casket, sighing, “If only he let me drive instead...”

He screamed into the pillow. He couldn’t stop the inflow of the thoughts, each scenario more stressful than the last. He hated how much he worried over such trivial things.

Nobara pat his back, “Okay, yeah we get it. Calm down.”

The two looked between each other and their friend. It was difficult dealing with him in this state, they had to be extra careful with what they said. He usually comforted them, but when the roles were reversed it caught them a little bit off guard.

Megumi sighed, “I don’t think she would care about those things. She seems like a good person.”

Itadori only grunted.

“Seriously though. You two have known each other forever.” Nobara poked his sides. “At this point, anything you did now couldn’t make her run away.”

He thought about it. You did stay through a lot, you stayed during that whole finger swallowing incident. And that time he died for a little bit. Also the time he laughed so hard milk came out of his nose. (He found that one to be the most traumatizing.)

If you can stay with someone through all of that, then maybe, possibly, you wouldn’t mind staying if he was a little nervous on your ride together. If his hands were a little more sweaty than usual maybe you would giggle a bit and hold them anyways.

Maybe, there was nothing to worry about, and in the end the both of you would have a fun time. He thought too much of what would happen, he needed to relax.

With a long inhale, he rose from the pillow. Nobara clapped as he got up, “There we go, you’ve got it Itadori.”

“This will be a good date.” He reassured himself.

“It will be! That’s the spirit.” Nobara said.

“We’re going to hold hands and I’m not going to mess this up!” He stood from his bed. “I’ll make sure she’s comfortable and goes home telling her friends what a good boyfriend I am.”

“Fushiguro play the motivation playlist! We need to get him an outfit.” Nobara threw her phone to him as she headed to Itadori’s closet.

Megumi sighed, he really hoped this date went well enough for him to never ask for help again because...

He watched Nobara throw shirts to one side while Itadori rummaged through his half empty sock drawer asking Megumi if he had matching socks he could borrow instead.

...He genuinely couldn’t go through this again.

Itadori popped in his fifth stick of mint gum as he checked his reflection. He looked out the window every few seconds before fixing up his appearance. As he looked at himself, he realized maybe he did too much...

He remembered Nobara pulling out a full suit, “This will be good. Girls love it when a guy dresses up.”

“That looks like too much. We’re getting fast food.”

She shook her head, pushing him into the closet, “Trust me, she will be so disappointed if you dress up casual.”

“I’ve never heard of that! Never! Megumi this is ridiculous isn’t it?”

Little did they know, Megumi left as soon as they turned their backs, right now he was back in his dorm reading a nice book under his comfortable covers. There was no way the two could bring him back into the room now. While he was going through his nightly routine, these two were preparing for war.

“Just try it on, if it’s bad you can change...” Nobara checked the time, “Hey what time are you supposed to get her?”

“Uh,” he squirmed into his pants, “like eight.”

“Huh... Like thirty minutes ago eight?”

The closet door snapped open as he stumbled out, “What? Where’s my phone?”

He groaned when Nobara shrugged, he looked through the large heap of clothes on the floor, then opened all the dresser’s drawers before grabbing it from the sock one.

It was already half past eight like she said, he scrolled through a few missed calls from you and frowned. He never missed more than one call from you, you probably thought he was dead (again) at this point.

He would definitely be losing points for that. He would be lucky if you didn’t text your friends about what a horrible date he was being. First he was late and then he showed up in a suit? He would never live that down.

He did a quick little debate as he stared at himself in the mirror, he was way too dressed up for this little encounter. He had no time to change though, so instead of comfy shorts, he accepted his fate to be the awkward guy who dresses up way too much for something that’s supposed to be way more casual.

It’s like those kids who dress in suits at public schools, it’s out of place and everyone scratches their head wondering if they went to the wrong event.

He shook his head, with no more time to dwell on it, he grabbed his keys. Before he left though he pointed a finger through the door, “Later, we will argue about this later.”

Nobara laughed as he hurried out the door. “Tell me how it goes after!”

Itadori shook his head, still not really over the past events. Fixing his cuff he glanced out the window once more before catching sight of you. He took a deep breath before getting out his car.

“Hey!” He waved out to you as you squinted from your door. The closer you got the more confused you looked.

“Shoot, we’re we going somewhere fancy?” You looked over your oversized shirt and sweat pants. “I thought we were getting fast food.”

He was jealous of your comfort wear. Any other day he would be jumping in joy over how cute you looked in house clothes, but right now he craved some of his own.

Itadori thought about those moments in typical romance movies where the girl steals the guy’s sleepwear. The guy gets all flustered because she’s wearing his clothes and looks so comfortable, the girl is happy because she gets out of her uncomfortable dress clothes and finally gets to relax. It’s a bonding moment between the two.

He wished he could be the girl in that situation right now.

He scratched his neck. “No, we are. My friend just bullied me into wearing a suit...”

You laughed, “Really? Was that why you ran late?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he winced, “I lost track of time. I really was going to wear something normal.”

Your eyes darted over him before you pursed your lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a suit before.” You picked at dust on his shoulder, “It’s a little out of place but it’s cute.”

He hung his mouth as if you kicked the breath out of him. You said that with so much ease, you two have known each other for so long but he’s never seen you be this much of a flirt. He felt like a firefly was lighting him up from inside out, blinking on and off as he stared at you unable to move.

We’re these the benefits of being in a relationship? Random touches and compliments that could make any worrying heart swoon instead? It was his first time dating his crush so every little thing you said or did made him bounce off the walls.

He wanted to cherish the moment with you touching his shoulder and calling him cute for a moment longer. You somehow made him forget every single worry that welled up in his chest.

He wondered if he made you feel this way as well.

Itadori is a cute driver. The two of you keep a good conversation, but when he makes a turn he goes quiet. He also goes quiet when someone crosses the street, sometimes he talks to the drivers in front of him even though they can’t hear him.

Little sayings like, “You can go.” “You don’t have to run across, I can wait.”

He fumbles with the radio station until you wave his hand off and change it yourself. You can tell it takes a weight off his shoulders, he looks content whenever you switch it.

He drives with both hands too. At every stop light he taps his fingers on the wheel, glancing at yours every once in a while. You never know what to do, debating on whether or not he's trying to hold your hand. You didn’t want to come off as being too forward by grabbing his hand, but also didn’t want him to initiate everything for your little date.

You hadn’t been in a car alone with him before, you didn’t know the rules about romance in the car. If you made a wrong move you two would have to sit in silence until he dropped you off, or worse until he kicked you out the car.

You could imagine it all now, you go to grab his hand and he pulls it away. “Isn’t that a little too early? I don’t think we’re that close yet...” and then he turns up the music to ignore the tension.

Then you pass each other in the streets, then he dates someone completely different and you see them together all the time, then you become a realtor sell a house to him and his new wife, constantly wishing you could have been the one moving in with him, then you are living in his basement without his knowledge, eating sardines before dying under his house.

Itadori would shake his head at your funeral, “If only she never held my hand...”

You internally screamed. You couldn’t mess this up. He was so different from any other person you’ve met, you didn’t want to be too fast with this. You liked him since the first day you met, it would pain you to see all those months of friendship and growth go down the drain by being a tad too forward.

You couldn’t bear going back to the friend stage again, though fun at that period of time, you were in too deep to go back. The idea alone gave you chills, that would mean no more cute little touches or flirty gestures, just awkward waves when you passed by.

You fiddled with your fingers, glancing at his. The thought alone gave you butterflies, the two of you holding hands in a car at night screamed aesthetic Pinterest board. Your hand craved to feel whatever those Internet couples felt.

Your chest tightened a bit when the drive thru came into view and he asked for your order. It was like a reality check, the little drive filled with mindless chatter and laughs would be ending soon, with neither of you making a move.

You bit your cheek as he pulled up to the cashier window, time started to dwindle. You wondered why he couldn’t make a move first. His chances of rejection were in the negatives.

If he held his hand out you would hold it, you didn’t care if any of the employees witnessed such a display of PDA. You didn’t care where he held it, you didn’t care if it suddenly turned green… well you would be concerned about that… but there is nothing more romantic than holding hands in the middle of the night with someone you are infatuated with.

...In the McDonald’s drive thru.

He pulled to the next window and talked about something for a while before he interrupted your racing mind, “You okay?”

You popped out of your thoughts, about to pull an excuse from the top of your head but when you turned to him you didn’t expect to see his hand. Your eyes went wide as you saw his palm open and his expression soft and heartfelt.

It was like a small explosion of color went off in your brain. Like confetti rained in your mind and every single wish you’ve ever had suddenly became true in this very instant.

Itadori is actually offering his hand to you. Maybe you were imagining this and he wasn’t real, but even if he wasn’t, why not take the hand of this apparition?

So with the widest smile and biggest set of heart eyes, you fit your hand into his like a slot piece. His hands were warm like food out the oven, or fresh laundry, or a ray of sun washing over you. They were a little sweaty, but it was cute, everything about this moment was exactly how you dreamed about it. You could feel your heart settle itself down.

Until, Itadori cleared his throat, “I was asking if you could hand me the money from there...” he pointed to the glove compartment.

Your face dropped when you saw the cashier standing at the window scratching his head and Itadori still pointing at that cursed glove compartment. This was something right out of a horrible coming of age movie, you couldn’t believe this was real.

“Oh!” You slipped your hand out, snatching whatever amount from the compartment box and handing it to him. “I’m so sorry, that’s so embarrassing.”

No, no embarrassing was an understatement. You more so felt like a ball got kicked in your face on live television. You didn’t know if you could ever recover from this, you wondered if you should change your name and move across the country now or later.

While you were deciding on a new name, you were thrown off, when he cocked his head instead of agreeing, “Why? I was going to hold it anyway.”

Oh.

Oh?

Oh!?

“You were?”

He nodded, “I was nervous I might freak you out but—“

“I felt the same way!” You interjected, “I thought I would make you uncomfortable.”

You didn’t expect him to be as nervous as you were, the both of you seemed to get onto a mutual plane of understanding. You both said what the other person thought, peeling off that initial layer of worry like an orange.

To think someone as confident ltadori would be nervous. You were used to him doing things without thinking and going in with full confidence this threw you off guard. You were seeing a different side of him you weren’t used to.

“Don’t worry, you can’t make it uncomfortable. I'm fine with whatever!”

“Me too, if you want to hold hands we can.” You bit down on your cheek, a loud buzzing coursing through your arms.

Itadori grinned back at you so hard, the both of you in this little bubble. Maybe this night wouldn’t be as bad as you imagined. You might be able to keep this date in your mental memory, looking back at it whenever you wanted to smile.

The cashier cleared his throat, still standing there, the both of you jumped before looking, “You’re holding up the line.” He pointed to the money in Itadori’s hand.

“Right sorry!”

You laughed as he scrambled with the money. The both of you turning to each other and giggling when he finally left the drive thru. You sorted through the food while he found a place to park. (to which you mentally squealed, you two could now spend a little more time together)

Your conversation now had an interesting topic as you both discussed how nervous you were beforehand, then talked about the pace you wanted the relationship to go in, then your days, then the weather, and then it went quiet.

You were cleaning up, wiping away the salt from your fingers and crumpling up trash. Doing minor things like adjusting the air and checking your face for crumbs in the mirror.

Maybe he shouldn’t be looking at you with so much intensity, but he couldn’t help it. His glances were quick and out of the corner of his eye at first, but after some time he completely forgot to keep the looking secret and started staring at you.

You weren’t even noticing. You were in your own little world, thinking about a catchy little tune you heard over the radio while you cleaned your nails.

It was all so simple, but he couldn’t help his eyes from noticing every little thing you did. He didn’t understand why his heart thrummed so fast when you pursed your lips or drummed your fingers onto your lap. Tiny itty bitty things he didn’t pay attention to earlier were so eye catching for some reason.

You had such a content look on your face, it physically pained him. He could feel the weight of his heart, the buzz in his fingers, he wanted to know if you felt the same. If you felt there was no one else who could fill up this place in your chest. Like no matter where you were, each moment was perfect as long as this feeling stayed.

He couldn’t help but intertwine your hand with his. You smiled up at him and he wondered if he was allowed to have this. Your hand or this moment, he didn’t know if he deserved it, yet he couldn’t help but take it. It would be wrong not to.

He squeezed your palm to his, maybe you could see the sparks behind his eyes as he did so. He hoped if he looked close enough, you would share the same sparks behind your eyes as well.

#Itadori x reader #jjkmag #Itadori yuuji x reader #yuuji x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #fluff #itadori/reader #we love nervous Itadori #first date jitters #he’s such a dork in this okay #I’m nervous I haven’t posted in so long #I hope u like!#kisses #💓💓🎉🎉🎉

116 notes · View notes

tooweirdforyou · 3 years

Text

Chapter One » Target

A/N : obviously my starting out isn’t going to go well but I’m sure it’ll get better, hopefully. Let’s just hope! And enjoy!

and I know I mentioned who would be included in here, but I’d like to know your thoughts if there are any characters you wish to have as love interests! :> it’s so I can confirm and get an idea.

Masterlist | Chapter Two

MULTI-BILLIONAIRE CEO PASSES ON — [LASTNAME] INC. TO FALL?

“[Name] [LastName]? I heard her father passed away last week.”

“No way, the [LastName] corporation is bound to fall without their CEO, what’s going to happen now? Is she going to take over?”

“She’s so young, I doubt they’ll hand everything to her. She doesn’t have the backbone to handle it.”

Walking past the gossiping pair, you tilt your head to the side and after a minute of walking, your shoulders relax and you heave a sigh.

“People don’t have anything better to do but gossip.” You thought, expression holding a look of disinterest, as you glance down at your necklace.

The only memory you had of your mother.

It was a simple, small and cylinder-like key, silver and hooked onto a thin silver chain. As if it was some sort of screw, in other words. Too bad you never found out what the key actually led to or unlocked.

Not like you actually looked around though.

If it wasn’t the last thing you had of your mother, you probably would’ve thrown it away by now.

Tucking the necklace inside your shirt, you make it to an ice cream stand on the street and stop in front of it, standing behind a tall ravenette.

It seems like it’ll be a while before the male would choose something though. You purse your lips and look to the side. ‘Maybe I should just go..’

“Oh, my apologies, miss. You can go on ahead, I’m actually waiting for a friend, I’m not in line.”

You look back to the male and found the freckled face smiling at you kindly. Blinking, you glance at where he was standing and where the vendor was, and felt a blush creeping up onto your cheeks. “Oh..”

‘So i’m just stupid.. idiot.’ You internally curse yourself before nodding at the tall male. “Er.. sorry. Thanks.”

He merely chuckles and waves it off, returning to his phone that was in his hand as you move ahead to the vendor behind the stand.

“What can I get ya?”

You ponder for a few seconds before stating what you wanted from the ice cream vendor. Once the salesman gets your desired ice cream, you hand the cash over to him and take the ice cream.

Gripping the fabric of your mask, you pull it down to your chin to reveal your face and lift the ice cream to your lips.

Thanking the man, you walk away and just as you proceed to take a bite, a sudden loud crash interrupts your process. ‘Gunshots?’

Screams erupt from people around, some quick to start running away, others freeze still in fear at the sight.

Before you could even do a thing, shouts are heard and running figures chasing after a speeding bike.

“Ace, it’s time to go!”

Amidst the shouts and screams, the motorbike pulls up near you and the freckled man from before is quick to hop onto the back, behind the one driving. “Marco? What happened?!”

“I’ll explain later, just get on!”

“Hey! Stop right there!”

“Don’t shoot, you can hurt the civilians!”

The blonde behind the drivers seat, his hair a little messy and half-lidded eyes, held a cigarette between his teeth clicks his tongue and revs up the gas. “Shit.. hold on!”

Just before they drove off, you made direct eye contact with the blonde for a brief second before he broke it.

With that, the bike begins to drive off with speed, the men in white-clad police uniforms with guns strapped on their backs continue to chase them before stopping in defeat once the motorcycle was out of sight.

“Damn it! We were so close to capturing one of the Whitebeard members!”

“Forget about it, we need to get back to headquarters. Let’s go.”

The men began to retreat back, you just standing still in shock at the event that just occurred and ended in like five minutes.

‘What the hell?’

Slowly biting your ice cream that was melting in your mouth and a bit on your hand, you look back at where the bike had disappeared to.

Your mind wanders back to the blonde from before. “What was with that look?.. Did he recognize me?..”

Muttering to yourself, you continue to eat your dessert, deciding to make way back to your place, before your father’s assistant could lecture you.

‘This is why I don’t leave the house.’

“Miss [Lastname], you’re back early this time.”

You plop yourself onto the couch of your living room once you made it and laid down, heaving a heavy sigh. “Yeah.”

Pulling off the black mask around your ears, you laid it on your chest and shut your eyes.

“Any particular reason?” The raspy, deep voice asks from the hall, coming into the living room and standing at the entrance, his eyes taking a look at your sprawled form on the couch.

Sitting up slightly to get a better look at the assistant, you watch him stare just as intensely back at you with his sharp dark eyes.

Axel.

The male was dressed in dress shoes, black slacks and a ironed white button up, with the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. He had rounded, silver thin framed glasses that rest just above the bridge of his nose. His tousled black hair brushed over his eyes a bit, and if you didn’t know better, you would’ve assumed Axel was a CEO owner himself.

But he was nothing but an assistant to one. Or, formerly was. You were surprised he still stuck around after your father passed.

Keeping the eye contact for a few more seconds, you shut your eyes and turn onto your side, facing the backrest of the couch. “No, just didn’t feel like receiving a lecture from you.”

The scoff that escapes his lips is heard as his footsteps come towards you.

“You deserve my lectures, you always seem to forget them.” He says, picking up the mess of magazines on the coffee table and stacking them neatly together.

“I can’t forget something I don’t bother remembering, so— ACK!”

Axel is quick to roll up one of the magazines and whack the back of your head without hesitance, a slight scowl on his lips. “Perhaps you should start remembering then!”

You sent a glare to the older male and rub your head to soothe the pain, keeping shut to prevent yourself from possibly getting even more hurt.

“Now, come on. Get dressed so we can get going to meet the lawyers.”

Furrowing your brows, you look at him in confusion, watching him place the magazines away onto the shelf. “Lawyers, what for?”

He tilts his head behind him to glance at your expression. “Your father’s will. To confirm your inheritance of his belongings so you can be given all his things.”

“Ah....” You then lay back down with force and groan out. “No way! I don’t want to handle all that! Why don’t you just take it?”

“Take everything that the owner of the [Lastname] company owns? No, thank you.” Axel mutters, pushing up his glasses with his index finger from the side.

“You don’t want it?”

“I don’t think I’m capable of handling something like that, much less when I’m not supposed to in the first place. Besides, my hands are full with taking care of a helpless, troublesome, lazy-ass toddler.”

“Oh? Who?” You smugly feign innocence whilst turning away, causing Axel to roll his eyes as he brushes a gloved hand into his black locks of hair.

“Funny. Now, if you don’t get your ass up, Miss [Lastname],” he clears his throat loudly. “We’ll be late to discuss your father’s will with the lawyers.”

“You’re so mean sometimes.. what kind of assistant are you?”

Ignoring your sulking, Axel proceeds to walk away to start the car, but not before releasing a soft sigh at the female.

“What am I going to do with you?..”

- meanwhile

With the Straw Hats Crew «

“What do you think, Luffy?”

The navigator looks to their captain on the end of the dining table, rolling up the newspaper in her hand after reading the headlines aloud.

The male was busy shoveling meat into his mouth to listen but merely nods. “Sure! *omn nom* Sounds like an adventure!”

“God, you’re hopeless...”

The archaeologist lets out a little giggle. “He never ceases to amuse.”

“If we get our hands on that treasure, we can have everything?” The long-nosed questions, crossing his arms and the taller, Afro-wearing man laughs. “Yohoho~ how exciting!”

With the Heart Crew «

“The chance to have everything you could desire..”

“Wealth, power, love..”

The big polar bear in an orange-clad jumpsuit hums. “Should we try to acquire it, Captain? It won’t be easy.”

The doctor / leader of the group leaned against the wall silently, arms crossed as he thought about it, the newspaper headlines laid across the table.

“We’ll have to come up some plans to get it, considering we’ll have to make contact with her somehow.”

With the Kid Crew «

“To get the chance to have all power and money in the world, huh?” The red-head smirks dangerously as he listens to his right hand discuss the newspaper article.

“Think this through, Kid. Won’t be easy to capture the girl, and I’m sure we aren’t the only ones looking to get this treasure.” The masked blonde warns, but the red-head wasn’t listening.

“How unfortunate for her to have to experience such a thing, but I will get my hands on her and that treasure, no matter what it takes.”

With the Whitebeard Crew «

“I see..”

The tall, older, white haired man comments as he sits in his chair, hands resting in his lap.

“We actually drove by her on our way here after the run-in with the police. Eating ice cream.” The blonde says, shifting his weight and resting a hand on his hip.

“And you’re positive it was her?” A tall orange-haired male questions, wearing a yellow foulard.

The freckled man nods, smiling a bit. “I’m sure. She stood behind me in line, thinking it was to get ice cream.” He laughs lightly at the memory.

Another voice chimes in, belonging to a rather beautiful man with a sexy deep voice. “Well, if it truly is her, I guess we won’t have to look far. Question is, how we’ll get in touch with her again.”

The older, bigger man in front merely laughs. “Not a problem, my sons. Leave it to me.”

With the Police «

“It’s a danger to have that so carelessly around, if it lands into the wrong hands, we can have a tragedy.” The rice-cracker eating leader states, arms crossed as he stares hard at the picture of the female under the headlines.

“So you intend to confront her about her father’s belongings, then?” The old man on the couch of his office asks, picking his nose with disinterest.

“E-Excuse me, sir.. but would it be in the wrong hands.. if Miss [LastName] is supposed to inherit her father’s things?..” the pink-haired male shyly asks, sweating a little bit in fear of having interrupt the two.

“We don’t know for sure, that is why I insist we should hold her here for questioning and her intentions!”

With the Revolutionaries «

“It’ll be interesting, to say the least.” The blonde with goggles around his top hat hums, a smile present on his lips as he leans back in his chair.

The brunette female with a bright smile just sighs. “Thats for sure. No doubt that everyone will be having their eyes on that one of a kind opportunity. What should we do?”

“My, my, imagine being able to wield such power! No wonder her bounty is so high in the black market! Going for over a billion beli’s!” The extravagant purple haired man exclaims. “I must meet her face to face!”

“Ah— Achoo!”

Sniffling, you rub your nose and let out a sigh, groaning slightly.

“Oi, you better not be sick, Miss [Lastname]. We don’t need you to be catching a cold at this time. I’m not going to be taking care of you.” Axel warns, eyes lingering on you and you huff in annoyance.

“Shut up, Axel..”

taglist : @deputy-videogamer

a/n : hi! I’d love to know what you think of this so far and what you think of Axel! I might post this on Quotev as well but I can’t say for sure.

So it’s not great, but not horrible, but regardless, I hope you enjoyed it! :>

not proofread-

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #one piece x reader #op x reader #x reader #op #one piece writing #Target #syd’s fic

99 notes · View notes

ssa-babygirl · 3 years

Text

Out of my League [Part 7]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 2.5k (i know it’s so short i split it up again so part 8 will be out quicker)

Summary: Months later, you finally get a call after midnight from Spencer and he seems… off.

Warning(s): Angst, mentions of grief and death, swearing, allusions to schizophrenia, mentions of sex/smut, partially unedited cuz grammarly’s a lil BITCH but it’s ok i’m good at grammar

Author’s Note: HI IT’S HERE SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG HAVE FUN ENJOY I’M GONNA GO BACK TO MY DEPRESSIVE EPISODE NOW

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

(not my gif)

10 Weeks Later

(Reader POV)

It was a little after midnight when you were jolted awake by your phone buzzing next to you. You just nearly rolled over and ignored it, but you were already up. You reached across your empty bed to your nightstand and turned your phone over, the bright screen burning your eyes. Squinting, you tried to read the name displayed across the top: ‘Doctor Spencer.’

You sat upright in bed immediately and answered, “Spence?”

His voice was a bit frantic, “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, I was up,” you lied, “What’s wrong?”

“How soon can you get here?”

You were already climbing out of bed and looking for your keys by the time he asked. He never called you that late unless something was wrong, “I’ll be right over.”

And that’s how you ended up driving through the almost deserted streets at top speed, racing to see the man who you hadn’t heard from in almost three months, the man who kissed you and then kicked you out, the man who needed you at nearly one in the morning.

The man you loved.

You didn’t drag your feet getting out of the car. You went straight up to Spencer’s floor and went to knock on the door before it swung open. Spencer was waiting for you. He only met your eyes briefly before turning away and walking back into his apartment, leaving the door ajar for you to enter.

“Spence—” you started before he cut you off.

“Am I crazy?”

The question caught you off guard, “What are you talking about?”

His fingers ran across the scars on his forearms, trying not to scratch, “Am I?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Answer me.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong here. It’s been months, I don’t even get so much as a text, I have to hear about how you are from JJ, and now you’re calling me over to your place at one in the morning, begging me to tell you you’re not crazy. What’s going on?”

“Emily’s alive.”

You hear the words from a million miles away behind walls and walls blocking the sound from your ears. You can’t move. Your voice feels like shouting, but sounds like a whimper, “What?”

“I can’t tell if it’s all a dream, or I made it up, or something, I don’t know, just please, tell me I’m not crazy.”

“Spencer.”

“Don’t. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m just some kid. It’s the same exact look you gave me when I told you about Alexa! I hated it then and I hate it now, so just… stop.”

You struggled to find words after his sudden outburst, all you could manage was “How—”

“She’s been hiding in Paris. Call her if you don’t believe me.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Spencer was already dialing a number into his phone and handing it to you.

“Hello?” A groggy voice came from the speaker. It wasn’t Emily’s.

“Sorry to wake you up, JJ—”

“Y/N? What are you doing on Spencer’s phone?”

“Long story.” You chewed your lip for a moment, “Actually, no, it isn’t. What’s this about Emily?”

Dead air crackled through the phone.

“He told you?”

“Of course he did, he can’t sleep over it.” You avoided looking at him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I couldn’t tell anyone, you have to understand that.”

“I do. I just wish it hadn’t come to that.”

“Me too,” her voice was smaller than it was before, shrunken not by sleep but by guilt, “Wanna talk to her?”

“Is she there?”

“Yeah, she’s staying with Will and I until she finds a new place.”

“Well I don’t wanna bother her if she’s sleeping.”

“You think she’s sleeping?”

You almost laugh. Almost.

Before you can say anything else you hear a voice that you never thought you’d hear again, “Hey.”

The sound brought tears to your eyes as you were finally able to bring your gaze back to Spencer, “Oh my god…”

“Surprise!” You could hear the guilt bleeding through into Emily’s voice like she was scared you’d be angry with her, like any of this was her fault.

“You’re…”

“Yeah. It freaked me out too.” Yep. It was really her alright.

“How… I was at your funeral, Emily.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. You’re…” you fought back a sob, “you’re back now. That’s what matters now, okay?”

“I’ll take it.”

“And we have brunch plans soon, understand me? We have months to make up for.”

She laughed, god, did you miss her laugh, “It’s a date. Give my love to Jamie.”

“Of course. Bye, love you.” You weren’t missing your chance to say that to her again.

You lowered the phone from your ear and nearly dropped it from your loose grip.

“Am I crazy?” Spencer asked for what felt like the hundreth time.

“No.” You crossed the room and placed the phone onto the table beside him, “She’s alive.”

“Did she ever really leave? I mean this whole thing just feels so ridiculous it can’t be—”

“Do you trust me?”

His silence stung.

“Well do you?” you croaked.

“Yes! Of course I trust you, Y/N, you haven’t been lying to me!”

It was absolutely not the right time, but it’s not like timing had ever been your strong suit, “Actually I have, Spencer.”

“What?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“What? Is everything okay?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“Y/N stop fucking with me what the hell are you talking about?” He rarely cursed with you, and his expression softened once he noticed your shock at his language.

“You’re either a shitty profiler or I really should have pursued acting—”

His jaw clenched once more, “Damn it, Y/N, what is it—”

You practically lunge yourself at him, pulling him down to your level by his collar and smashing your lips to his. His hands were quick to land on the small of your back, arms looping around your waist and pressing you close to his body as your hands danced from his collar to the nape of his neck, carding through the hair on the back of his head, the tears on both of your cheeks mingling, the past ten weeks of missing each other poured out into that kiss.

You weren’t the one to pull away this time. He guided his hands back down to your hips and pried himself away from your body, “Woah, wait, wait…” he mumbled against your lips as he tried to break the kiss.

When his shining brown eyes met yours, he looked at you like it was the first time he ever saw you. He held your face like you were a precious thing made of glass.

“Is this real?” Was all he could muster. The hoarse whimper cut through to your heart and summoned a new wave of tears to your eyes.

“This is real, I’m real,” you gestured between the two of you, “This is real.”

“You actually want this?”

You nod, breaking out into an earnest grin.

“Please say it.”

“I want this. I want you, Spencer.”

You just barely get the words out before his lips are on yours again. The kiss was brief before he broke it again, pressing his forehead to yours and just holding you close, taking heaving breaths and trying to memorize how you felt in his arms.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“You’ve done it before.”

“I meant for real. You deserved better than…” He tried to shake the memory from his head, “Y/N, I—”

“Me too,” you rushed out, desperate for him to know already.

“Please let me say it, I’ve been waiting the last eighteen years.”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Okay, go.”

“I love you.” He sighed, peppering kisses against your smiling cheeks as he whispered, “I love you so much,” Kiss, “I have loved you ever since you helped me up off the locker room floor and I don’t think there’s been a minute since then that I had ever stopped loving you.”

“I love you too, Spencer.” You couldn’t help but giggle as his little kisses migrated from your cheek to your neck. You’d never loved anyone like this before, and you were glad it was him. You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck and brought his lips back to yours. It was slow and sweet and gentle, so different from the previous kisses that were filled with the last few years of longing for each other’s touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything. The past few months. I should have just talked to you, but I was convinced you hated me and I didn’t know what to—”

“Spencer. It’s okay. Just,” you fixed the collar of his pajama top, “talk to me now. No more dancing around things. If we have something to say, we say it. Deal?”

“Deal,” he sighed and kissed your forehead, “I love you so much.”

(Spencer POV)

The next few weeks felt almost exactly the same. Our dynamic didn’t change much after that. The only differences were the occasional dinner dates and the consistent ‘I love you’s. And the kissing. That was all new. We were still navigating that part about a month later when I attempted to make us dinner and ended up ordering Chinese takeout and watching Doctor Who reruns on my couch. I forget how exactly she ended up on my lap, but I wasn’t thinking about the chain of events when I had more pressing matters on my mind.

My hands were in her hair, hers on my chest. How I was still breathing, I had no clue. Not an inkling of where I got the confidence to move my hands to her waist. For one of the few times in my life, there was not a single thought in my mind because my fingertips brushed over the bare skin between the hem of her shirt and the waistband of her jeans. The sigh she let out against my lips did nothing to bring me back to reality, I was still a million miles away in my own little world where this was happening and it wasn’t freaking me out.

My hands involuntarily drifted upwards, meeting the underwire of her bra, which was another reality check I completely missed out on. I was nearly convinced that it was all a dream when she pulled away.

“Hey, can we stop for a sec?”

This definitely was not part of my dream.

“What’s wrong, are you okay?”

“Yeah! Uh, fine, it’s just...” Her eyes wandered around the room as if looking for an excuse.

I lifted her off my lap and placed her next to me back on the couch, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” She stayed silent, “Is it something I did?”

“No! No, no, no, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You can tell me anything,” I tried to give her space, but still laced my fingers with hers.

“I know! I just…” She trailed off and avoided eye contact, eyes fixed on our hands in her lap, “I haven’t done anything like this is a while.”

I couldn’t stop the sigh of relief, “Alright, is that it?”

“Yeah, can we just… take things a little slow? I don’t wanna seem like a tease—” She rushed the words out, almost like she thought I’d be upset with her.

“Hey, you don’t have to worry about that, okay? I love you, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Her shoulders relaxed, “Okay, thank you.”

“You don’t have to answer this, but how long has it been since you… did that?” She covered her face out of embarrassment, bashfully grinning a little bit, “Seriously, don’t answer if you don’t w—”

“No, it’s fine, just… don’t laugh, okay?”

“I’m not gonna laugh. Promise.”

She bit her lip and spoke so softly I almost couldn’t hear her, “Since I left Kyle.”

Well, I definitely didn’t laugh. The guilt bloomed in my chest almost as quick as the genuine shock that flashed across my face, “Sorry, I—”

“No, I get it! It’s a lot!”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but how?”

She giggled at the absolute bewilderment on my face, “Well I didn’t really have a lot of time for dating when Jamie was little, I was working two jobs, so I didn’t take my friends up on their offers to set me up. And when I moved out here, I just didn’t know anyone.”

“But you’ve lived here for years now, you didn’t go on any dates at all?”

“Well, by the time I had friends here…” She finally met my eyes after far too long, “I didn’t want anyone else.”

Oh.

I didn’t realize—

She didn’t want anyone else.

She wanted me.

After years of trying to feel what I felt for her with people I hardly knew, I find out she only wanted me. She didn’t go on dates like me, she didn’t hook up with strangers like I did. For the first time ever, I’m with someone I’ve had more sex than.

The first emotion I felt at that moment was guilt. I never thought she’d want to be with me, let alone wait for me, but she did and I was the asshole that slept around. But it’s not like I knew how she felt. I was in love with a woman I thought I’d never get, so why wouldn’t I try to get over her? It’s not like it worked anyway. If anything, it made me feel worse. No one I slept with made me feel as much as I did when Y/N smiled at me.

The next thing I felt at that moment was extreme pressure. She’s been waiting years for me. What if I don’t live up to her expectations? What if I disappoint her? Would that be so bad she loses feelings for me?

The next emotion at that moment was embarrassment. That was ridiculous. If sex mattered that much to her, I highly doubt she would’ve gone back to Kyle so many times.

The last emotion I felt before I kissed her was relief. The last guy she was with was Kyle. As if his name isn’t enough of an indicator that he was sub-par in bed, Penelope let it slip that Y/N had confessed to faking it with him during a night of drinking.

The kiss was short and sweet. I was the one that pulled away, not wanting to start things back up if she wasn’t comfortable with it. She just smiled and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Did you wanna stop doing that?” I asked in reference to what we were doing before. She laughed and shook her head, “Are you sure? ‘Cuz I can just make us some tea and—” Her lips were on mine again.

It didn’t matter to me how much longer I had to wait for her. She was mine.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes @collectiveuniverses @annesauriol @eevee0722 @supersouthy @spencerwaltergubler @llilithsdaughter @silverhetdanes @voidtruealpha @takeyourleap-of-faith @unholyobsessions

108 notes · View notes

angelanimedesaray · 3 years

Text

Through the Looking Glass Chapter 12: The Caged Bird

AN: ....I feel like this went by really fast, but CLEARLY it did not, considering this is almost 13000 words and I STILL ended up splitting it into two parts...but I still feel like it happened SO FAST!!! And that worries me...for reasons that will become obvious, cause you all know I want to try and handle sensitive topics properly, and I don’t like the thought I might have rushed through this....

Characters: Levi, Reader, Roy (Original Character), Furlan, Reader’s Father, Various BG Characters

Pairing: Levi x Reader

Warnings: Language, Violence, Injuries, Blood, Threats of Death, Peril, (SPOILER) Abusive Relationships, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Past Violence, Mentions of Past Abuse, Allusions to Abuse. NOTE (Also a spoiler): If you’re worried that the actual trauma/effects of abuse wasn’t properly handled, most of that is coming in the next part. This part is dealing with the ESCAPE of abuse, dealing with the event/aftermath itself is the next part.

Word Count: 12558

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

(Gif found HERE)

(Four Years Later)

*Levi’s POV*

“Levi--I found something you might appreciate. It was tucked away at the bottom of this crate--I think someone was trying to hide it.”

Levi came over to where Furlan was going through one of the three crates they’d managed to snag in a riskier heist earlier today, taking the tin Furlan was offering him and checking the label. Tea. High end stuff, too. Normally he’d celebrate by instantly taking it for himself, but considering where it was hidden and the size of the payload, he was a little worried. What the hell was it doing tucked into the bottom of one of these crates?

“You don’t think these crates--or at least this one--were going to any of the big shots down here, do you?” Furlan asked, a serious look in his eyes.

Levi set the tin aside for the time being, resolving to take it for himself if they decided it was safe to keep the crates. “Keep looking. If there’s nothing particularly dangerous or valuable in here, we might be able to avoid trouble so long as we sell the goods fast,” Levi rationalized.

“And if there is?”

“Ditch the crates with the high risk stuff and let it be someone else’s problem,” Levi said flatly, crouching back down in front of the crate he’d been looking for, seeing if there was anything else they should keep for themselves.

Finding a friend down here had certainly been...unexpected, and at first Furlan had followed him around like an overly eager puppy, wanting to follow after Levi when Levi turned down following him. They’d been working together for almost two years now, and Levi was finally comfortable being around the other young man, the two of them working well together on the heists they pulled to pool their money together--both to survive, and to save up enough money to buy citizenship on the surface and at least a starting place to live, even if it was just one room. The main goal was getting topside, where they started out living didn’t matter much--improvements could be made after they were up under open sky instead of underground.

Open sky…Crystal blue or dark as ink with thousands of stars burning above, or a cloudy grey with swirls of snow falling to coat the world below. It had been four years, but he still remembered every detail, from the freezing air against his cheeks or droplets of rain sliding down his upturned face, the sound of snow crunching beneath his feet or a roll of thunder in the distance, a warm hand in his or a flash of a brilliant smile framed by soaked hair.

His fingertips patted out the piano keys to a song, the light tapping audible, but no musical sound to accompany it except his memory of the times he’d practiced it with her.

“You’re timing something in your head before you try it?” Furlan abruptly guessed. Levi stopped his tapping, but otherwise didn’t react, shifting through a bolt of fabric in the crate to see if anything was concealed in it.

“No,” he answered bluntly, and Furlan sighed before going back to what he was doing.

He’d been trying to guess what that tick of Levi’s was since he first saw Levi do it, and he so far hadn’t guessed. He probably wouldn’t, either, but it was amusing to watch him try sometimes.

Even if he guessed right by some miracle, Levi wouldn’t tell him. That time...that time was a memory for him. Those little pieces of music some of the only things he could take with him to remember her by, besides the memories themselves. It was why he still practiced in the dirt and open air, or against his leg or whatever he happened to be holding at the time, why he still tried to remember the sound and the pattern after all this time.

Sometimes, if he let his focus drift away from the present, he could almost feel her hands against his.

Levi let the old ache persist for a few more moments, holding the memories at the front of his mind before he reminded himself it did him no good to dwell on what was unreachable to him now. At least when he was supposed to be focused on something else. The dwelling was meant for the quiet moments he was left to himself, or while he stayed up with nothing but his insomnia and the memories to keep him company.

After the first two, three years of not going back, he’d resigned himself to the reality that his worst fear regarding his visits to her world had finally happened. One day the visits had simply stopped, and he had to find a way to move on from the brief glimpses into a better world he’d been given, the door appearing to be fully shut and sealed to him now, with Y/N on the other side.

He hoped she was all right, wherever she was now. He hoped she got into that college she’d wanted to go to despite everyone telling her she couldn’t make it. He hoped she got far away from that town, but she was still in close contact with her family. He hoped she found more friends, that she was able to build up a comfy lifestyle by now. Or at the very least, was well on the way there by now.

He knew how hard that could be, but at least she’d started well above where he was at now. He had longer and farther to climb.

He just wished it could have been to where she lived.

“All right, I don’t see anything with too much heat on it in here. What about you?” Furlan asked.

Levi sighed, eyes roaming over the contents he’d been shuffling through while he spaced out with a much sharper eye, looking for anything he might consider a red flag item.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was usually so focused, he was almost embarrassed how much his memories were sweeping him away and bringing his mind elsewhere right now.

Opening his eyes, Levi was determined to focus and make sure him and Furlan didn’t accidentally bring home anything that was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

The crate was gone. And his hand was hovering just above a dull beige carpet, the light much brighter than it had been a few moments ago, and artificial instead of the usual firelight he was used to.

Levi’s breath had caught, and he held very still, as if afraid the slightest movement might shatter the reality around him. A slight stretch forward, and he could feel the sponginess of the carpet in front of him, which confirmed that what he was seeing was real.

Heart pounding, Levi turned his head to look around him, taking in the sight of a small house, fairly sparse, lots of flat and dull colors, a few cracks in the walls, and he was pretty sure there was a picture strategically placed on the wall to hide a hole. He was standing in a hallway with an open archway behind him and what looked like a back door at the end of the hall, stairs just off to the side in the same direction leading to a second story. He turned enough to see a small dining room behind him with a simple table and two chairs, and just around the corner must have been the kitchen. And from there, he could hear movement.

Y/N...?

Levi got to his feet slowly, his steps careful and quiet just in case he was wrong. He crept towards the kitchen, heartbeat rapid in his ears as he peeked around the corner, hand pressed lightly against the wall.

There she was, standing at a stove in this tiny little kitchen, bent over two pots as she cooked something to eat, a recipe book open just off to her left to give instructions on how to make whatever it was she was focused on.

She hadn't noticed him yet, and he had to swallow a sudden wave of complicated emotions at seeing her again, the most predominant of which was joy and longing. It had been four long years. He was only praying the universe wouldn't be cruel again and separate them before he had time to say something to her.

Well then, he shouldn't be standing here gawking like an idiot if he didn't want that to happen. He needed to say something--anything.

"Y/N?" He managed to get himself to say, tone making it sound like a question, the word feeling strange but reverent falling from his lips after so long not uttering them.

She jumped at the sudden voice, turning with wide eyes to see who had spoken, then freezing like a deer who'd just made eye contact with a predator. Her shock lasted a few moments, neither one of them daring to move and break the illusion before she spoke, the wooden spoon falling from her hands with a clunk into the water and against the metal rim of the pot.

"Levi?" She asked, voice breathless and small as she stared at him, eyes drinking him in as she took two hesitant steps forwards before she suddenly barreled towards him, hands clutching the front of his shirt as she buried her head in his chest.

There was a sharp intake of breath from both of them at the contact. Levi because he'd expected excitement, but not her throwing herself into his arms and...his shirt was damp, was she crying? Not to mention it had been years since someone touched him like this--he'd started to forget how he was supposed to react, how he wanted to react.

As for Y/N, the contact was when she breathed in and held it, the confirmation that he was real. She might have been trying to stem the flow of tears as well.

"Oh my God, you're real. It's been so long since…" she swallowed, a shaken laugh leaving her as she pulled back, looking up at his startled features. “I didn’t think you were ever going to come back! Where have you been? How have you been? How are you here now?”

Those tears were still in her eyes, and she was throwing herself at him with unrestrained...ambition? Passion? He was rusty reading her moods, so he couldn’t quite pinpoint what she was feeling, especially while she was still teary and still recovering from the shock of seeing him again.

She pulled away completely, seeming to realize how emotional she was getting right now as she wiped her eyes with her wrists, trying to regain her composure. “I’m sorry, I-I’m overwhelming you, aren’t I? Sorry, one question at a time…” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Are you all right?” Levi asked in mild concern. There had been far more waterworks than he’d expected in that reunion, and it made him worry.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I just...I really didn’t think I was going to see you again,” she said in a tiny voice.

“Neither did I,” Levi admitted. Now that he was here, and the awkwardness was settling over them…

The last time they’d seen each other, he’d kissed her. And now it had been four years. Was it even relevant even more? Was it even something he should bring up? Probably not right away, maybe save it until a little further into the day.

Levi looked around at the dull-looking house around him, the slightest pull of a frown starting to appear on his features. Now that he was looking...there was no piano. No splashes of color or personal touches, no scattered magazines or little projects she was working on. He’d always felt the places she lived were warm and personal, cozy, comfortable. This place was...indifferent and impersonal. Worn down, even. The cracks along the walls, the low-end furnishings...it reminded him of the Underground, and that didn’t sit well with him.

“You moved again,” he commented, eyes still moving around the surroundings.

“Yeah. I moved out for college, so no living with my parents anymore. They’re both...in different states now. Mom’s still in the same state as before with my stepdad and little sibling, and my dad’s a little closer, but still quite a ways away, and in another state as well...It’s a new area, though. Northwest--very northwest. It’s…” She seemed to struggle not to say dreary, settling instead on simply saying, “it rains a lot.”

Levi’s frown only grew. “I thought you said that school you were trying so hard to get into was out on the east coast?” Levi asked observantly, studying her closely. She turned away, but not before Levi caught a flash of pain in her eyes as she tried to feign that she was reminded of the food on the stove and was trying to focus on it.

“Yeah...but, ah...plans changed,” she said quietly.

Levi’s eyes narrowed at something in her tone he couldn’t pinpoint, but he certainly didn’t like it. “Plans change? Did you not get accepted?”

“I did.”

“Then it was too expensive.”

“No, I had a full ride, it was all completely paid for, nothing out of pocket.”

“Was it not what you expected?”

“It just didn’t work out,” she said much sharper than Levi had been anticipating, agitated by Levi poking at the subject trying to figure out what exactly had changed. “I don’t want to talk about it, Levi,” she said softly, body language stiff and closed off.

What happened in the four years he was gone? What had he missed? And why was she so...different? She didn’t feel like the same girl who’d pulled him into a rainstorm and drove him out to a hayfield simply to look at the stars, who’d marveled at snow and ice right with him and pulled him into so many different situations without hesitation, no reservations, just pure energy and happiness.

Now that he stepped back and looked at her, really took a moment to feel the energy in the room and take the time to get a proper read on her once the excitement of being back started to fade...she wasn’t bright, she was dulled. She was withdrawn and reserved, hesitant and quiet, a slight hunch to her shoulders, hiding her face.

What the hell happened? And why had he missed it?

She sighed over where she was bent over her food, and Levi felt himself rapidly withdrawing inside himself, kicking himself for thinking this was going to be even a modicum of what it used to be. His gaze was turned away, expression going from the worried frown and maybe a spark of hurt in his eyes that she cut him off so sharply to his usual indifferent expression in the silence that hung in the room. He suddenly became painfully aware of a distance that seemed to be yawning between them, four years of distance, so much apparently happening and he had no idea what besides college “didn’t work out” for reasons unknown.

And the last he’d seen, she’d been desperate to crawl out of the place she was living and get to the east coast. Instead she ended up in this dump on the complete other side?

“What about you? Are you still underground?” she asked, her tone suddenly normal and casual, though something about it felt insincere, like it was a front. Maybe not the question itself, it sounded like she genuinely wanted to know what had happened with him the past four years, but the casualness, the appearance that everything was fine--that was what felt false.

“Yeah,” he said shortly, watching as she moved away from the food to reach for the glasses in one of the cabinet and fill them with tap water, offering one to Levi, who left it sitting on the table beside him as he chose instead to watch her closely, his steely blue gaze following her every move and expression.

“Okay...I know you didn’t really talk much about what your life is like, but...is there anything you can tell me about it? How you’ve been, how you’re doing?”

“Only if you tell me how you’ve been in return,” Levi countered quickly. She looked away uncomfortably, going to open the fridge and fish around for the milk. As the door drifted further open, Levi’s gaze zoned in on the collection of brown bottles that clinked as she moved them aside to get to a small container of milk in the back. Whether it was his world or another, beer seemed universally recognizable. And there was a lot stocked in that fridge.

“I didn’t know you drank,” Levi said, his expression and tone as unreadable as he could manage, gaze fixated on her. She quickly shut the door, milk in hand as she headed over to the pots again to add a little milk to one of them.

“I don’t--those aren’t mine,” she said briefly.

“Whose are they, then?” Levi asked before she could try to direct the conversation back towards him. He didn’t want to talk about all his thievery and fights in the Underground, anyway. He wanted to know what had changed...everything, so drastically.

And if those weren’t her beer bottles, what were they doing in her fridge, and whose were they?

She was ignoring him, it seemed, choosing not to answer, her back to him so he couldn’t see her face once more.

“Y/N…” Levi started to say, the worry seeping into his tone this time as a rumble outside grew louder, and for a second, Levi thought that it was raining outside and he just hadn’t bothered to look out a window. Y/N, however, stiffened, then swore, abandoning what she was to suddenly start pushing him down the hall.

“Quick, out the back,” she said frantically.

“What? Why?” Levi asked, thrown off as the rumble got loud enough to be coming from just outside before abruptly ending.

“Because it looks really, really bad that I’m home alone right now with another guy--just, just--down the street to the intersection, take a left, then a right, another left, wait for me by the store that says Wal-Mart on Kensington Avenue, I’ll come as soon as I can get away, okay?”

“Y/N--”

“Just go!” she said sharply in a hiss, pointing towards the back door by the stairs he’d noticed earlier as she disappeared through another door towards the front door, straightening her long sleeve shirt and nervously brushing hair from her face before she vanished from his sight, Levi hesitantly creeping towards the back door even though he had no idea why he had to flee so suddenly when he never had to before.

As Levi quietly opened the back door, he heard conversation faintly from the living room.

“You’re home early, darling. I’ve almost got dinner ready, just a little longer. Let me get that for you…”

Levi paused with his hand still on the doorknob, even though he knew she might be trying to buy him time to slip out the back. But hearing that--darling, home, the beer in the fridge, her comment about being home alone with another guy--

Suddenly he felt like some kind of secret lover being smuggled out the back window. And it bothered him far more than he wanted to admit, the thought of being the other man, even if as far as he knew they were still just friends, considering their kiss had been years ago. She had every right to move on, and he had no right to be jealous. It shouldn’t bother him, he shouldn’t expect her to stay single when neither of them expected to see the other again.

But it still bothered him.

Before he could cause any drama between the two, Levi did as he was asked, shutting the door quietly behind him and hopping the fence of the back yard to sneak out to the street out front. There was an unnecessarily high off the ground truck out front that must have been the source of the rumble sound. Levi spared it a glance before taking a look up at the murky skies up above, a gloominess seeming to hang over the area that seemed like a conglomeration of small, thin houses in various states of disrepair, messy front lawns, cracked pavement…

Levi hesitated in front of the sidewalk, a bad feeling stirring in his gut as he stared back at the house. Nothing about this felt right to him. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be here. Yeah, he knew life was shitty, but she’d always made it...brighter. There was nothing bright or warm about this place, and what little conversation they’d had so far left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, her sudden (At least, sudden to him) shift in attitude and demeanor was disconcerting, and he was worried about her.

The chill in the air, however, turned his attention away from the house she didn’t want him inside right now and back towards the street in front of him, mind shifting to finding the location she’d mentioned in the hopes he could find a warmer spot. He wasn’t exactly dressed for a cold breeze, since he was below ground where he lived and currently didn’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

He followed her instructions until he ended up outside a grey and blue building, standing on the sidewalk near the sign that had the street name on it, on the end closest to the direction her place was. He wanted to make sure she could see him when she came, so he stayed outside, even though he was worried it would be a while since she’d mentioned she was making dinner for her and...whoever that was.

Levi sulked, his expression darkening as he stared at the ground, trying desperately not to think about their relationship. Clearly it was further than just dating, they were living together. Were they married? Was she happy with him?

He wouldn’t think so, given her attitude change and the look of the run down house, but who was he to judge? How would he know? He’d been gone for four years, and clearly a lot had changed. Plans for college out the window, she was far from family, she was living in a place that reminded him of Underground houses...It was fucked up how the man’s truck looked more expensive than the house. Wouldn’t you spend more money on where you lived, not your mode of transportation? Y/N had owned a car that was reliable--it wasn’t shiny with a fresh pain of coat, she’d mentioned it was an older car, but it was reliable...and he noticed it wasn’t out front. There was no second car, just the truck.

Is she okay? Is she really okay with this? Is this really what she wants to be doing?

Time continued to stretch by, time that Levi spent simply standing by a street sign waiting for someone who still wasn’t showing up. He was starting to freeze up over here, and while he’d expected it to be a bit of a wait, this was getting a little too long. He was starting to get anxious that he’d spend whatever little time he had here trying to get her.

Just as he started to think to hell with it, he would head back to the house anyway and knock on the front door, she finally appeared on the other side of the street, fiddling with her long sleeves to pull them down again and with a scarf tied neatly around her neck, cheeks flushed and breathing a little heavy like she ran over here. She crossed quickly to reach him, a flicker of that old fire of hers in her eyes as she smiled shyly at him, coming to a stop in front of him.

“Sorry I made you wait,” she said timidly, though she offered no explanation as to why it took so long. “What?” she asked self-consciously, fixing the scarf when she realized he was staring at her with an odd look.

“Why the scarf?” he asked. This was the same girl who rolled around and played in the snow with him without a scarf, leaving it stuffed in her pocket after it kept falling off in all the roughhousing. And that hadn’t been just because they were kids and they didn’t know better or care--this had been four years ago. She hadn’t cared about now sneezy the cold might make her, and she hadn’t cared to even wear the scarf loosely thrown around her neck when she /did/ wear it. Yet now that it was a little nippy out, she wore a scarf tied so neatly around her neck like a second skin, but nothing else? No coat, no hat, no gloves?

She shrugged. “It’s not too bad out--I just wanted something to keep my neck and cheeks warm on the way here.”

Yet the scarf wasn’t pulled high enough to cover her cheeks. Just her neck.

Maybe he was just over analyzing because he was worried about her...

Before he could question her again, she started forward, cutting across a brief green space to head towards the store, pulling briefly on his sleeve before letting go and keeping her hands to herself.

“Come on, let’s get inside where it’ll be warmer. I snuck a twenty, so we should be able to treat ourselves to something. I’d say ice cream for the good old days, but I don’t think the weather’s fitting for that,” she said sheepishly, prattling away. Once more, it didn’t feel quite as natural as it should have been. It felt force, purposeful to distract him. Like she was putting all her effort into putting up a front as she led him through the doors.

What gave it away was her inability to stop talking. Even before, she’d known when to stop and let the silence speak for itself, when to give Levi a chance to talk. She wasn’t doing that right now, prattling on about the store being a chain store found all over the place, talking about how normally the outdoor section they walked through was filled with plants in the spring and summer but they had been put away or pulled inside for the fall and winter seasons, how you could find a general collection for most needs here--whatever came to mind as they walked, she droned on and on about, like it was a nervous tick.

Eventually, when it was just them at the end of an aisle with no one around and he’d listened to the meaningless prattle for a good fifteen, twenty minutes, he couldn’t take it anymore, and he lightly grasped her arm to bring her to a stop. She flinched slightly at the sudden contact, words stuttering to a halt as Levi’s gaze burned into hers.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her bluntly. She forced a smile, and it sickened him, made his heart sink. Was this the same girl who’d gotten him to open up and show her some of the broken pieces he kept hidden inside himself? The same girl who’d vented and cried into his shoulder before? Who was at least honest with him before if something was bothering her, simply telling him if it was something she’d rather not talk about, but giving in if it was something she should talk about. Who was this stranger in front of him, thinking forced smiles and lies would convince him that she was fine here.

“Nothing’s wrong--” she started to say, the answer rehearsed and the most false she’d given him yet.

“Don’t pretend. Not with me. It’s insulting,” Levi cut her off before she could continue, wounded that she thought such a thin charade was going to pacify him, and wanting nothing more than to do something if there was something wrong.

The smile faltered, and something deep and dark flashed in her eyes. Not dark as in threatening. The scared kind. The emotional kind. The arm he was still holding trembled slightly in his grip.

“It’s nothing that you can fix, Levi,” she said in a small voice, looking like she suddenly wanted to bolt.

“Why not?”

“It’s complicated.”

“It’s not. You’re just making it complicated. And I don’t know why,” Levi said, letting a bit of his frustrations leak through as well as his worries as his eyes roamed her face, trying desperately to find the answers of what happened, what changed. “You’re not even yourself right now, you’re just pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. What’s really going on with you?”

“It’s been four years--”

“That’s an excuse, not an explanation.”

“Levi, please, let it go.”

“No. Not this time. Whatever this is, it's not something you can sweep under a rug, Y/N. It’s everywhere I looked in that damn house, and you’re an entirely different person, so tell me so I can try to help--”

“Y/N?”

The new voice made them both look up in surprise, both of them lost in their hushed conversation and as such, completely missing that someone had spotted Y/N from the other end of the aisle and was currently making their way towards a scene that could easily be misinterpreted.

Levi let go of her instinctively before anyone could freak out about the shady guy that wasn’t her boyfriend or whatever that had a hold of her arm, staring at the man that was now approaching them, worry in his gaze as he looked between the two.

Y/N had turned fidgety, staring at the other man with a bit of recognition in her eyes, but not familiarity. “Is there something you need?”

A spark of pity appeared in the man’s eyes. “You’ve wandered a little ways from home, haven’t you?”

Levi’s brows furrowed in confusion at what the man was saying, but Y/N seemed to grow nervous, which put Levi on edge.

“No, I’m just--I’m just out with a friend. For a little while.”

The man’s gaze flickered to Levi, his expression telling Levi that he didn’t really believe her. “Right...but I’m sure Roy is worried sick about you. Let me just call him and let him know where you are so he can--”

“No! No, listen,” she said with panic in her voice, and Levi felt a chill go down his spine as a thought started to take root in his mind, growing with each word uttered in this bizarre exchange in front of him. “I haven’t seen anyone in two years, I know, I’m going home after this, but I just want to spend some time with a friend for a while before I head back.”

“I know what it means when Roy’s not here, you can’t be out on your own like this, you’re confused, you could get hurt--”

“I’m not crazy!” she snapped. The stranger reached out for her arm, she flinched away, and Levi’s hand snapped out to grab his wrist before it could reach again.

The eyes that looked at him were not filled with pity, but hard accusation, apparently deeming Levi as some kind of threat. He wasn’t to her, but he was about to be to whoever the hell this was.

“I don’t know who you think you are taking advantage of a confused girl like this--” the man started to say, but Levi cut him off in a harsh and hard voice.

“I’m a friend who’s known her longer than this Roy guy, and if you don’t keep your hands off her, I will remove them myself.”

The man flinched back from Levi’s grip, which Levi allowed because his attention was elsewhere now, the suspicion that was growing in the back of his mind just needed a little physical proof he was certain he was about to see.

Without asking for permission or giving her any kind of warning that might give her time to try and hide again, Levi gently grasped her arm and yanked back the sleeve. Instead of smooth, unblemished skin, there was a collection of bruises and even a few cuts. His hands turned deceptively still as hers began to tremble.

“Levi, stop, what are you--” she tried to protest, the panic clear in her voice as he grabbed the other arm--gently, again--to pull back that sleeve and reveal the same thing beneath the second sleeve. She tried to flinch away when he reached for the scarf, but he had enough of a grip it pulled loose, revealing fresh, ugly bruises around her throat she’d been trying to cover up by wearing it.

The man behind them was finally silent, and Levi stared wordlessly at Y/N, processing what he was seeing and the confirmation of his theory as she refused to look him in the eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks as she looked away in shame.

He’d been trying to figure out what happened to her, what changed, why she was so different. He’d thought maybe his disappearance had hurt her more than he thought, maybe something went wrong at college and things had spiraled out of control, maybe something happened that made her give up hope.

Except this was worse. This was much, much worse.

Of all the things that came to mind in this very moment, he thought of the day he’d seen the fire in her eyes when she swore she wouldn’t be caged. And now he was staring at the shaken form of a woman who had been forced into a cage when she’d fought so hard to escape them and their limitations. Someone had forced that fiery soul he’d admired to bend and break and conform until it was jammed into a too-small and isolated box without color or life.

It was wrong. It was disgusting.

And he was livid.

“Levi...Levi, wait!” Y/N called out in a panic, but for once, he ignored her, gaze dark as he turned without a word and left the building, purposeful steps leading him back the way he came as Y/N chased after him with calls of his name, trying to stop him. He wasn’t going to let her stop him, not this time.

By the time the house came into view, Levi’s blood was burning in his veins, that power in himself that he’d unlocked long ago when he’d decided to protect her from this ugly world rearing its head and chomping at the bit to sink its teeth into this Roy guy.

He tried the front door, only to discover it was locked. She must have snuck out the back, earlier, then, like he had.

“There you are you little sl--”

The angry growl from another man’s voice was cut sharply off as Levi, not in the mood to waste time jumping a fence and coming through the back door, kicked the door in with one simple move. The door’s abrupt burst inwards was what caused the voice to be cut off, as the edge of the door slammed into the man’s face and sent him reeling back.

Levi wasn’t paying attention to physical features, what he looked like, how much larger than him he was, nothing like that. He stepped inside, saw the man holding his nose in surprise, and descended on him like a sicced dog.

Eyes flashing dangerously, Levi gave no explanation for why he, a stranger to this man, kicked down his door and attacked him. He just started swinging, one hand grabbing Roy’s shirt so tight it started to rip and the fabric cut into his throat while the other formed a fist and started repeatedly bashing into his face. Blood sprayed in the first two seconds, but Levi kept going, ducking out of the way as he tried to return a swing, getting underneath him and tackling him into an end table that splintered with the force of the impact, sending them both to the floor.

At that point, Y/N had caught up, and she was standing in the doorway shouting for him to stop. Again, Levi ignored her. He would stop when he felt like Roy’d had enough, and right now, he didn’t think he had. He was on his feet now, foot flying out in violent kicks to do damage to more than just the man’s face, taking his fury of what Roy had done to her out on any body part that came within reach of his foot.

Timid hands locked around his arm, and Levi turned to see Y/N grabbing his arms with tears in her eyes, looking scared and desperate and shaken. He finally stopped, staring at her for a few moments and the tears in her eyes as, once more, she begged him to stop, except now he was looking at her, and he was paying attention.

“Levi, please, I just…” She sniffled, sobbed, and then started to cry, and Levi’s rage started to melt away, heart softening and aching painfully to see her clinging to him sobbing so openly. The last time she’d done that had been when she’d ran away and got lost, and that had been nothing like this.

He turned to face her, hand gently reaching out to touch her shoulder, part of him wanting to stop and comfort her, but the other part knowing this wasn’t the time for that, not yet, anyway.

“Is the house yours?” he asked.

“No…”

“The car?”

“No.”

“Pack your stuff. Whatever’s yours, whatever you want to keep, pack it. I’ll meet you outside,” Levi said softly, giving her a gentle push towards the hall to get her moving and away from the bloody sight of Roy on the ground.

Well, he’d pushed himself up and crawled over to the weathered chest in the center of the room that acted as a coffee table as Levi was focused on and talking to you, flipping open the lid and drawing Levi’s attention back towards him as he heard a faint but recognizable, even in this world, click.

And the weapon was not aimed at Levi, but Y/N still standing in the doorway of the living room looking timid and afraid to leave because of what Levi might do while she was gone.

“Fucking bitch--” Roy yelled as Levi’s hand shot out to knock the weapon out of his hand, the gun firing and the shot going wild as Levi yanked Roy’s hand closer towards him--but the barrel wasn’t aimed at Levi, he wasn’t stupid. The bullet embedded itself into the wall right of Y/N, who screamed as the shot went off.

Levi twisted Roy’s hand until there was a snap and the gun clattered to the floor as Roy let out a short scream of pain, Levi kicking the gun far out reach and pulling out his knife to keep Roy compliant, dragging the man effortlessly out the front door and onto the front lawn, throwing him to the ground as Y/N followed at least just outside the door instead of heading back inside.

“Levi!” she started to shout, but Levi pointed one of his bloodied hands back at the door behind her.

“Go get your stuff--I’ll handle this,” he said firmly, and she hesitated a few moments before she finally headed inside the house to go pack, leaving Levi alone with Roy.

Levi pressed his knee against the man’s back to hold him down, one hand fisted into his hair to hold his head back, knife out and pressed into his throat until blood started to dribble down the blade.

“The only reason you’re not dead, is because I don’t want her to see that. Not to mention you’ve got her so fucked up right now I doubt it would only make her more upset,” Levi said in a low, threatening tone, keeping his words quiet as he spoke so only him and Roy could hear if Y/N came back outside. “So I’m taking her, we’re leaving, and you’re never going to darken the same town as her. If you so much as think of her again, I will gut you and leave you for dead in some dark alley no one will ever find you in. And I was gutting grown men before you had your first beer and started calling yourself a man, so when I say that’s what I’ll do to you, I mean it.”

Levi removed the blade, stepping away and pulling out his handkerchief to start cleaning the blood off his hands and knife, keeping his gaze sharply on the beaten man below him as he waited for Y/N to make a reappearance.

“Who the hell do you think you are to take what’s mine?” Roy spat.

Levi kicked him so he would turn over, putting his boot on the man’s throat to stop him from talking anymore--he didn’t want to hear the filth pouring from his lips.

“I’m the man who will kill you without a second thought if you try anything with her ever again. And she was never yours. She’s a person, not an object.”

Levi watched him struggling underneath him, putting more pressure on his throat whenever Roy tried to claw him off, not an ounce of his currently vicious attention leaving him. He was aware that they had an audience--some neighbors were standing on their porch to see what was going on, no one brave enough to come face the man with the knife who’d beaten Roy to a pulp. Though some of them seemed to be on phones, probably calling for actual help. No matter. They’d be out of here before any police arrived.

Y/N finally appeared, a single, small suitcase in hand, a coat on her frame this time, the scarf tied in place once more to hide the bruise on her throat. Levi’s boot lifted off Roy’s neck, the knife he’d been cleaning now tucked away and out of sight and his hands clean as Y/N timidly started to approach him.

“You won’t make it out of town before the cops--” Roy started to wheeze, but Levi kicked him hard in the head, knocking him out in the process.

He should have done that earlier, honestly.

Levi held out an arm, pulling her protectively to his side with his arm around her shoulders as they quickly left the house behind.

“People are staring,” Y/N mumbled. Her eyes were red from the crying, her cheeks flushed and wet with tears. Levi’s hand gave her shoulder a gentle rub of comfort, trying to give her a bit of assurance.

“Don’t worry about that, let’s just get you out of here,” Levi muttered, taking the directions she’d given him to at least get them to the store she’d had him meet her at.

They could have taken the truck to get out of there faster, so they could just start driving, but he didn’t want to risk Roy coming after her for stealing anything that was legally his, so they were going to have to start on foot until they could find transport.

And as much as he wanted to be the one to take care of her right now, to tell her she didn’t have to worry about anything and he would take care of it all, he was a stranger in this world, and he didn’t understand it nearly as well as she did. He needed her help to get her out of here, get her somewhere safe and secure where Roy couldn’t touch her.

They needed transportation and money. Those were the two important things right now.

“Do you have any money? Any at all?” Levi asked her as they came up on the store.

“No--I haven’t had a job in two years. The twenty from earlier I took from Roy,” she said quietly.

“What about a phone so we can call someone, like your parents?”

“I haven’t had a phone in two years, either.”

Levi made a noise of frustration with how truly stuck Roy made her. He moved her across the country away from everyone she knew (Besides Levi, who appeared wherever she was, but had been missing for four years), took away her transportation, took away her phone so she couldn’t contact anyone, took all of her money so she couldn’t buy her way anywhere, told their neighbors if she was out and about without him she was in trouble because she was unwell or sick in the head or some bullshit…

“If we go inside we might be able to borrow the store’s phone, though,” she said in a small voice. “And get you a new shirt. There’s blood on yours.”

There was. They would probably get odd looks if he went inside with blood on him with a girl that looked shaken and scared, maybe get the police called on them again. This wasn’t the Underground, people weren’t guaranteed to look the other way.

“Give me your coat, then. We’ll go inside, get a new shirt, and you can borrow a phone to call your parents...do you remember their numbers?”

The only number he had to remember was 911 with that lesson she gave him a while back, but he was aware the other numbers were ten digits. And it had been a while since she called them.

“I’ve always known my dad’s number like the back of my hand. And he’s never changed it, so...I can call him,” she said, her voice shaking slightly at the prospect. But she was shrugging off her coat, so clearly she was accepting the idea.

Levi pulled on her coat and covered himself up so the blood on his shirt wasn’t noticeable. The blood on his pants and boots was another story, but that he might be able to brush off as paint or mud considering the dreary weather. Once his hands were through the sleeves, he grasped her hand in his own and gave it a firm squeeze to reassure her, pulling her along after him as he headed for the doors they’d gone through earlier.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he said lowly, guiding them inside. Once inside, though, she took over, walking unsteadily to the other side of the store and approaching the counter with a nervous, jittery disposition as the lady on the other side stared expectantly at her. “Can we, um...can I...I mean…”

“Can we borrow a phone?” Levi interrupted after watching her struggle to get the words out for several painful moments. The lady looked taken aback, gaze scanning them over and narrowing at them suspiciously. “She needs to make a call to her father.”

The woman’s analytical gaze didn’t lessen, but she did gesture to a phone behind the counter. “You can use this one.”

*Reader’s POV*

Your hands were still shaking as you moved around the counter, repeating the number in your head over and over in the hopes that doing so would make it correct. When you were younger, you’d always mixed up two of the numbers, and you were hoping you weren’t about to do that again. You needed this call to go through.

You were still shaken by the abrupt turn this day had taken. When you’d first seen Levi, you were just happy to see /anyone/ outside of Roy. Especially the young man you had been convinced you’d never see again.

But Levi had always been observant, always good at reading people, and it hadn’t taken him long to start digging at things that made you reflexively panic, instinctively trying to hide the truth of your situation even from the one person you thought you might be able to be open with. But Roy had too tight a hold on you and your life--you were too terrified to even let anyone suspect what was going on behind closed doors. It wasn’t like you’d had a way out. He’d stripped you of every freedom and mode of independence until it was too late, until you were isolated and locked in with no sign of ever escaping. So you tried desperately to make it work, for your sake.

And when Roy got home, the thought of him seeing you with another man...you’d felt like you were staring death in the face. No amount of saying Levi was just a friend would convince him, which was why you’d sent him out the back. Of course, you’d forgotten about the two glasses you’d poured earlier, which was where the bruise around your neck came from. Roy had picked you up by the throat and slammed you against the wall, demanding the truth as you desperately spun a lie about pouring yourself a glass and forgetting where you put it until after pouring a second. Your insistence even after you ran out of air might have been what saved your life.

Getting out had consisted of waiting until after you’d finished and served Roy dinner, claiming you were going to take a bath to clean up after all the housework and instead sneaking out the back door. You knew there would be hell to pay when you came back, that Roy would be furious you snuck out of the house he kept you restrained inside, but to see Levi...seeing Levi made it worth it.

Even being in his presence made you feel a little safer, made the air feel clearer instead of suffocating, made a bit of hope peak through the gloom you’d been trapped in. You just wanted a few minutes of that before Levi inevitably disappeared, just a few moments of safety and warmth beside him would be worth any retaliation Roy doled out when it ended.

But the moment was shattered. Any attempt you made to keep Levi from finding out, afraid of what would happen when he did, only made Levi more suspicious, because he knew you, and he’d known something was wrong from the start. It had only taken one look for him to realize you were a bird with broken wings shoved in a corner of a cage and left to die. But you were too afraid to say anything, too afraid of the fallout, of what would happen to Roy. Because part of you had kept believing that if you just tried a little harder, if you just stopped messing up, if you could do one thing right, maybe he would go back to the way he’d been when you first met, maybe you could fix it. It was your fault it had developed to this point, anyway, not his. That was what you believed, anyway.

So seeing the dark fury in Levi’s eyes, remembering the few times he’d come through to your world in the middle of a fight, that one time when you were young that he came back covered in blood, you’d been afraid. You might have never seen Levi like that, but you knew what it would lead to. But Levi was faster than you, and unlike before, he wasn’t going to listen to your pleas to let it go, to stop and leave it be. He was going to do something about it.

The fight had been terrifying to witness--mostly because every witnessed blow made you flinch, and you had never seen Levi with that dark fury in his eyes lashing out at someone with such murderous intent. You really thought Levi was going to kill Roy in that moment.

When you stopped him, maybe part of it had been a conditioned reaction to not let Roy be hurt, maybe part of you was still afraid for Roy because he was still your partner. But Levi was close to you in a way Roy could never fill, no matter how badly you tried to fit the cold and cutting square peg that was Roy into the round hole that was where Levi’s warmth and comfort was supposed to be. You were afraid, but while Roy had conditioned you to be obedient and follow his whims, Levi was the one with your loyalty, with the history, with the true and even reciprocated affection. When you’d stopped that fight, if it could be called that, it was because you just wanted it all to be over. You just wanted out of that hell house and somewhere safe, you wanted Levi to take you with him anywhere but here. You didn’t want him to look scary and covered in blood right now, you wanted him to whisk you away and hold you and tell you it was going to be all right.

But it seemed right now wasn’t the time for that in his mind. He was taking the part about getting you out of here seriously. The only form of comfort you had right now was the fact you were away from Roy at the moment, the small squeezes Levi gave your hand, and the protective arm around your shoulders.

But you kept thinking what would happen when Roy caught up to you. When the police were called and this was considered a kidnapping, when Levi got arrested for the assault at least, possibly worse. When you were dragged back to the house where a punishment that would probably finally leave you dead would be waiting for you. It was what had you so terrified. That someone would pull you out of Levi’s comforting grip and throw you back to Roy, that this couldn’t last, that you’d be dragged back. You had nowhere to go, and no way to leave. No money, no car, no phone, no friends or family in the area, you were isolated and surrounded by people who might see Levi and think he was the abuser.

Your fingers shook as you dialed the number, almost messing up more than once pressing the buttons on the cord phone that was used in the Wal-Mart, waiting as the rings droned on, then ended with your father’s voicemail.

It was the right number.

You just needed him to pick up even though the Caller ID would likely be Wal-Mart from a state he didn’t even go to. He would think it was a scam call. So you had to keep calling until he answered--praying he would answer before the cops caught up, before Roy came back, before the woman at the counter stopped eyeing Levi like that and decided to just do something about whatever she was assuming in her head.

You called again. No answer.

Again. No answer.

No answer.

Nothing.

“Pick up, please,” you let out in a small sob, only realizing then that you were openly crying as you desperately tried to get your father to pick up the phone. You felt a warm hand on your back and looked over to see Levi standing beside you with concern in his eyes.

“Breathe. Just keep trying,” he said softly, giving your back a small rub to help calm you down as you sucked in sharp breaths of air in your effort to calm back down, rubbing at the tears in your eyes as you kept trying the number back to back.

You tried five more times before you finally heard the dial tone interrupted, your heart leaping into your throat. “Whoever this is--” came the familiar voice of your father, the same time that you squeaked out,

“Daddy?”

The word shook and cracked, already showing that you were vulnerable and emotional and needed help. There was a second of silence as your father registered that you were the mysterious caller, and the tone immediately softened from angry and annoyed to worried and even a little panicked.

“Y/N? Are you all right? What are you doing calling from a Wal-Mart? Why haven’t we heard from you in so long? Are you in Washington? Where have you been?” he asked, a thousand bottled questions from two years of silence starting to flow out.

“I’m not. I mean, I am but I’m not. Daddy, I’m in a really bad...Levi found me, he got me out,” you said, looking at Levi as your voice shook, glad to see he was staying firmly by your side with his hand on your back as you spoke, giving you silent encouragement and not moving away at the vulnerability. You didn’t think you could speak if he wasn’t right there to reassure you. “But we don’t have anywhere to go now. We don’t have a car, or money, or even a phone, we stopped at the Wal-Mart two miles from…”

You sniffled, tears blurring your vision as pent up emotions started to bubble to the surface. You didn’t even care that you were in a public place anymore. You just knew you had a man who truly cared about you that you cared for in return at your side, your father on the other end of the line, and you wanted desperately to go with them and be safe and not get dragged back to Roy’s.

“Daddy, I’m scared,” You admitted, hand shaking on the phone and feeling Levi step closer and his grip reflexively tighten on you at your words. “I think they called the police--the neighbors. Levi sort of...he hurt Roy really bad and I think they think he kidnapped me, Roy might try to have Levi arrested, but I don’t want to--I can’t go back there, I just want to get out of here, I can’t go back there.”

Levi full on wrapped you up in one of his awkward but learning hugs, and you turned your head to cry into his chest for a few moments as he murmured to you that it was going to be alright, he wouldn’t let anyone take you away, you holding the phone further away in the hopes your dad wouldn’t hear because a part of you didn’t want him to hear just how bad it was at the same time you wanted to tell him everything.

“Sweetheart, you need to listen to me,” he said once you had the phone pressed back against your ear to hear him. You recognized that voice--it was his ‘I’ve seen a lot of shit as a soldier and led an interesting life, and I’m about to teach you something important as gently as I can, but you need to listen to me’ voice. “I’m going to give you my bank information, you go to the ATM at the Wal-Mart and pull out two or three hundred dollars. Use it to buy a burner phone, get at least a few hours on it, get some food and something to carry it in, anything else you need for two or three days. I’m going to buy greyhound bus tickets the closest to you I can find that’s leaving in an hour or two, one for you and one for Levi so he can keep you safe, so you have enough time to get what you need and get there. Text me on the phone you buy so I know where to send the tickets, I’ll send you the information, and then you need to call the police and tell them what happened so they arrest Roy, make sure you stress that Levi was defending you and trying to get you to safety and they might not come after the two of you to arrest him. Just focus on getting out of the state first.”

You were fairly certain, considering you knew your father and the way he phrased that, that he was telling you two to evade the police at the same time so Levi wouldn’t be arrested and he could stay with you to keep you safe. You were pretty sure extraditing was a thing, but you weren’t going to worry about it right now--especially because you knew Levi would disappear from custody anyway.

“Okay,” you said in a small voice, listening intently as your father moved on to explain how a cardless cash withdraw worked on an ATM and how he was going to approve the withdraw from an app on his phone, while you only needed to enter his number and the codes he was about to tell you, and the amount, and you would have the money. You said a very shaky goodbye that consisted of some I love you’s before you hung up the phone with the codes running in a loop through your mind, hurrying with Levi over to the ATM that was correspondent with your father’s mainstream bank, entering the phone number, the codes, and then ending up with three hundred dollars in your hands, plus the twenty you took from the house.

Levi let you take the lead in this, since you knew what you were doing even if you were the shaken one that was being rescued. You hurried back to the electronics section, buying and quickly activating the first phone that would suit your needs. Once you had it in hand, you texted your father, who replied with four greyhound bus tickets--two for you and two for Levi, the reason for which being he included a transfer, with enough gap between drop off and pick up time for you and Levi to get a room at a hotel and get a good night’s rest before having to get on the next bus. He explained that there was a curbside pickup spot close to your location at a local gas station that would only require you to show the ticket to the bus driver before you were let on, and that it would be there in a little less than an hour. That allowed you time to do any supply shopping and hurry over there, though he again stressed you needed to call the police immediately and try to explain as much of the situation as possible so you could safely run from Roy without it being considered evading the police. And so they wouldn’t be after Levi for kidnapping, at least.

You were pretty sure what Levi had done to Roy went beyond defense, though, so you weren’t optimistic about that. At least there was no trace of him here in this world besides your stories, not even a birth certificate or a match to a fingerprint. Levi was a ghost here. So long as they didn’t catch him, they couldn’t prosecute him.

That was your thinking right now, anyway.

You grabbed a cart, headed over to the fresh foods section, and started grabbing from the lemonade, salads, wraps, sub sandwiches, potato salad, crackers and cheese trays--everything that was premade and ready for you and would keep in a lukewarm environment until you were in a hotel to put it in a minifridge for a while. Stuff you could eat when you felt like it when you needed it. You hurried over to the men’s aisle, and the two of you found a nice white button down and a pair of black dress pants that he could replace the ones he’d been wearing with. By that point you felt like the breath was being squeezed out of you as you ran out of time and pushed your luck only a few miles from Roy’s house, the police probably at the scene and taking statements by now. But that phone conversation was not one you wanted to have in a store surrounded by all kinds of people. You’d probably cry again, and maybe you’d be asked questions you couldn’t answer around so many people.

So you rushed through buying the food and Levi’s replacement shirt, Levi going into the men’s room with the bag to change while you shakily dialed 911 on the phone as you waited for him to finish, putting the phone to your ear.

“911, what’s your emergency?” came a woman’s voice.

“Um...my name’s...my name’s Y/N L/N...I don’t know if there’s been any calls regarding me yet, but I...I needed to call and clarify what hap--what happened before a false report happened, or whatever it is.”

“I’m sorry, what exactly are you calling for?”

You looked around to make sure there weren’t a lot of people, lowering your voice as you tucked yourself against the wall you were leaning against with your bags at your feet, the food in a newly bought, spacious satchel bag and your suitcase on the other side of it.

“My, um...my boyfriend, Roy Higgins, he um...he was...it was a really, really bad situation. An old friend of mine found me--”

“Found you? What do you mean by found you?”

“Roy isolated me. Moved me where there was no one around that I knew, took away my phone and my car and my money, told people I was sick so if I was out alone, without him, to bring me right back. No one knew where I was, they probably thought it was voluntary.”

“Just to clarify, Roy was abusing you.”

“Yes.”

“And you say your friend found you?”

“Yes. He found me, and he saw...he saw how bad I was hurt when I snuck away to see him, and he went back, to Roy and he...they got into a fight. He beat up Roy pretty bad, and Roy drew a gun on me and he tried to shoot me--”

“Was this before or after the fight?”

“In the middle. My friend was...He was coming to get me out of there, he told me to go pack and we were going to leave, and that’s when Roy tried to shoot me, and L--my friend dragged him out front, I don’t know what happened out there cause I was packing, but...I’m not in danger now, I just, I know neighbors were on phones and I didn’t want the police thinking I was kidnapped, or Roy telling the police I was taken, I want to leave, I don’t want to go back there--I can’t go back there and…” You choked off again, ducking your head away as someone walked by so they wouldn’t see you were crying. “My friend’s just trying to get me somewhere safe, where Roy can’t find and hurt me. I didn’t want any police arresting him or bringing me back there, so I...I called 911 so I could...I could report the abuse...and make sure that it was known I left willingly, my friend didn’t take me he was helping and defending me, and he felt my life was in danger, which it was because Roy almost...before I snuck away to see my friend he almost...and Roy’s just trying to drag me back there.”

“Y/N, is it possible for you to come into the police station to give a statement to clear things up?”

“No. No, I can’t stay here, I just, I have to get away, I just want to get far away from here. If you want a statement just let me, let me do it over the phone, or at the station in the other state when I’ve finally stopped running from him.”

At that point, Levi came out of the men’s restroom, looking clean and proper as he took in the sight of you on the phone again, fresh tears on your face. You rubbed your eyes to get rid of them and straightened, Levi picking up the bags at your feet and gesturing for the two of you to get moving.

You followed after him as you continued speaking on the phone, knowing he knew where to go because you’d told him while the two of you were shopping for clothes and food.

“Okay, then Y/N, would you be willing to at least answer some questions right now so the police know some of what Roy’s done, so they can charge him properly?”

“Yes,” you said simply, staring at Levi’s shoes as you spoke while the two of you walked almost side by side. The questions that were coming, you felt like they might be the kind you didn’t want Levi to hear, but you wanted as much as possible on the record as fast as possible. Hopefully Roy would be locked up, and you would have some time before he could come after you.

Because, surely, he’d come after you. He’d want his prize back.

“How long were you two in a relationship?”

“Three years. Roughly.”

“Was he always abusive?”

“Not at first. He eased into it.”

“Was the abuse physical, mental, emotional?”

“All of it.”

“Did he ever sexually abuse you?”

Your gaze flickered to Levi, your voice tiny and barely heard as you spoke into the phone. “How...how would you define that?” You asked quietly, your mind flashing back to what happened to Levi, at long last able to understand what had happened that day, exactly, beyond ‘someone hurt him terribly,’ but unsure if what happened to you counted as that kind of abuse.

“Did he every touch you when you didn’t want to be touched, or pressure or force you to have sex with him when you didn’t want to?”

“Yes,” you said, voice somehow getting lower as you confirmed it. “More than once.”

You were trying to be very brief and vague about the way you confirmed what she was asking, because you didn’t want Levi to figure out what you were talking about, still attempting to shield him from at least some modicum of the reality of what you went through.

What you didn’t know was the Levi could hear what was being said. He was on full alert, keeping his eyes out for the slightest sign of trouble or Roy, and one of the things that meant was that he was listening very hard to his surroundings...and he could pick up the words coming from the other end of the phone with how close to him you were standing. If you were looking at his hands instead of his feet, you would have noticed the white knuckle grip on the bags in his hands, as well as the slight tremble in them.

“You mentioned earlier that your friend was trying to protect you, and that he felt you were in danger. That Roy shot at you. He actively tried to kill you?”

“Twice. Also before I met with my friend,” you told her.

“Had he reached that level of violence before?”

“Yes, but he usually stopped just short of it.”

The questions continued beyond that, the operator fishing for chargeable incidents she could put on the record of the call that you could talk about right now, your answers still kept brief with Levi next to you but still trying to make it clear so no one could claim too much ambiguity and shiftiness in her answers. You were still on the phone as you and Levi stood at the pickup point for the greyhound bus, Levi keeping to himself for the time being as you answered questions on the phone before, at long last, you hung up, pulling up the tickets on your burner phone and making sure to keep your father updated. You told him you were at the stop and that you’d given your side of the story, as well as telling him how much money you had left after the phone, food, and Levi’s clean change of clothes. He mentioned you might need to withdraw a bit more when you stopped to sleep at a hotel, and that he would shift around some money in the meantime so it would be there if you needed it, and that he would be ready to set up the bank withdraw through his phone again if you needed it.

Finally, finally, you tucked the phone into your pocket, looking up and around you at the bus stop, the sun starting to set and making darkness quickly settle over the area, the already chilly air getting gradually colder. The unknown yawning in front of you was terrifying, waiting for a greyhound bus to come and take you far, far away from Roy. The freedom was enough to make fresh tears well in your eyes, but the fear that the rug could still get yanked out from under you, the fact that you didn’t know where to go from here, that still terrified you.

You looked at Levi at your side, noticing that his eyes were still on you even though he’d been keeping to himself and letting you have your conversations in peace. He was tense, even though the lean against the bus stop bench glass wall suggested relaxation. There was only a bit of blood on the brown vest he was wearing over the white button up, the rest thoroughly washed away.

Fully grown, past the teenage years and childhood in general, Levi’s features were sharp and...even more attractive than they had been before. Though he also had a tougher exterior now, a general air of ‘do not mess with me’ that usually the kids in actual gangs in high school used to have. But that vibe wasn’t a deterrent for you, because you knew him as a person. You knew how soft and gentle and warm he could be--as he’d been with you since he’d appeared even when he pushed to try and get the truth from you for your own good, so he could protect you.

And after seeing him beat the shit out of Roy, even if the violence hadn’t been what you wanted because you were so sick of violence right now, and seeing him derail the shot so no one got hurt, you were never going to doubt that he could protect you ever again.

“Everything set?” Levi asked as you stared at him, straightening up and coming to stand directly beside you now.

You nodded. “The trip should bring us...or me, if you disappear again...to Dad’s,” you said, a slight waver in your voice at the thought of him disappearing. You didn’t want to go again. He was your safety blanket, your stability, the thing you were clinging to right now to get you through this, to get you to take the necessary steps to freedom, what was making you feel safe right now. You didn’t want him to disappear, you weren’t ready for him to disappear, especially with that lingering fear that it might be for years again, that you wouldn’t see him for so long--

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe,” he said bluntly, holding your gaze to make sure you understood he meant it.

Though you didn’t know how he was going to stop the universe throwing him back into his world, you didn’t question him. Instead, you stepped closer, put your arms around him, buried your face in his chest, and started to silently cry, seeking his comfort once more.

He put his arms around you tenderly, holding you securely against him until the greyhound bus appeared at the end of the street to take both of you far, far away from this place.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea @hauntedhousecat @peaches-and-clouds @queenofcurse

Through the Looking Glass Tags: @artist-bby @kaz2y5-pie @tartheyes @super-peace-fangirl @huntersbunker @nefelimalfoy @soft-levi-girl-blog @honeygivemeachainsaw @regalillegal @sugas-daddy7 @cathyannecookie @chaoticshepardplaid @roayaloveslife @sanrioclit @wvnderfvllyalvne @sparkling-gayyyy @do-not-feed-sugar

70 notes · View notes

kiivg · 3 years

Photo

.I decided to just go with my three heroes instead of like all my dragon age romances because I’ve got someone for Blackwall, Gaspard, and I’ve got a mind for someone with Dorian too. Then I’ve got a whole load of OC x OC as well, and trying to draw all of them would be time consuming. However! During drawing this, I realised that, technically, Andrastopher, Anders, Marcus, and Zevran, have all slept with one another. Whether that’s between two people or more just depends on when in the timeline haha…. ,’:)c.

.Anyway there’s some things about my Heroes and their love interests below :), thank you for asking! I’m always excited to talk about my OCs.

...

.Andrastopher and Zevran’s relationship starts out as quite a basic thing. Something that’s not talked about in camp or on any of their journeys, but everyone knows it’s happening. On Andrastopher’s side, it’s something to make him forget for a little while, something to take his mind of everything that’s happening to him. Zevran, after all, offers this to him as more of an incentive to keep him alive knowing that Andrastopher most likely will end up killing him. Something that Andrastopher wasn’t exactly quiet about, he did actually plan on presenting Zevran’s head to Arl Howe at some point.

.Of course, everything changes with the course of time. Fighting beside one another in such dangerous situations, it was bound to leave them closer than before. They save each other’s lives, they tend one another’s wounds, and one night, Andrastopher doesn’t slink back to his own tent with a satisfied hum in his belly and stays curled around the other man. There’s a tenderness that blooms between them both, and what was not talked about before, is shown more and more openly.

.Zevran, I think, falls in love with Andrastopher before Andrastopher falls in love with him. He’s too broken to glue himself back together long enough to even think about such a thing. It probably doesn’t help that Zevran had started off by complimenting him on his looks above anything else, and Andrastopher knows he’s a weird looking man; more of a curiosity than a crush to anyone who looks at him. Anything Zevran had said after that was taken with the knowledge that the man would be lying.

.By the end of the blight, something that Andrastopher had hoped to die in, he’d found a reason to live again. Completing Morrigan’s ritual was a risk to take, but one he did so willingly so he could waken next to Zevran another day. However odd their beginnings were, neither man was willing to see the other one gone.

.After the blight, Andrastopher struggles with everything he knows. There’s no place for him in the world, and he cannot hide in Zevran’s arms as if there is nothing wrong. He takes a year to himself, sacrificing himself to the Qun, accepting that he needed a restriction in being who he was meant to be. It was a hard time apart, but the reunion was a sweet one. Though time and work takes them apart for perhaps months at a time, they remain loyal to one another. They marry at some point, a small thing which really only included the pair themselves, a chantry Mother, and Oghren who was both amused and embarrassed about it all.

.To this day they remain together, and regrets have been spoken about how they had initially started out. Andrastopher knows he should have treated Zevran better, something the man has forgiven him for over and over throughout their years.

...

.Marcus and Anders’ relationship was in-game the rivalmance because it’s so much more delicious than the basic romance. But, in my mind, it’s different.

.They start off butting heads in Kirkwall, Marcus needs Anders’ help, and Anders’ needs Marcus’ help. The idea of anything between them isn’t really on the table at the time since Marcus has been spending his time between Meeran’s legs more often than not. They both find each other insufferable for a variety of reasons; Marcus is egotistic, narcissistic, overtly cocky, and spends most of his time either fighting or fucking or playing that ridiculous lute he won in the Hanged Man. Whilst Marcus thinks Anders’ fight has been blown to unrealistic proportions, and he’s championing something that can be overcome easily enough, the man has a hero complex that grates on his nerves. Marcus is a Fereldan apostate who lives freely, and he can’t understand why people don’t just escape from the circle; his father did easily enough.

.After the Deep Roads expedition, coming home after eating nothing but mushrooms and drinking rock water for weeks, just to return to Carver’s newfound templar job really makes him rethink his attitude in Kirkwall. Marcus becomes openly supportive of the Templars, he has no choice; Carver’s relation to a mage has him under valiant watch, and though money helps, Marcus has to be on his best behaviour. Being seen with Anders can only damage his reputation, but they had kissed in that foggy desperation in the Deep Roads, not that they’d spoken of it, but it remains a memory that tasted sweet despite their breath.

.Marcus spends most of his time in the Blooming Rose in the next few years, wealth and desire letting him flaunt his time in rented beds. Anders yet plays on his mind, pulling him back time after time whenever he hears the man needs his help. They fight and disagree, snapping with magic curling in their fingertips. Anders feels like Marcus is betraying the very core of himself; denying that he’s a mage in every positive song he sings of the Templars. He hates the man with an intensity that boils over in the need to return to that time in the Deep Roads; when mages and templars didn’t matter, and the once fat Fereldan apostate gave away his shares of tasteless fungi to the mage who knew how to heal wounds. They fight and kiss, biting at each other with teeth and nails, and it is Marcus who storms away; burning with confusion and singed footsteps, and awaiting a visitor at the end of the night.

.When things get particularly bad, Marcus gives in to Anders’ way of thinking, apologising for what they had been through over the years. He gives him a key to the Hawke estate. It’s a safe place to hide, a safe place to smuggle mages in and out. He warns him on Carver’s inclusion, Marcus can’t be seen helping; it would only come back upon his brother and he’s not willing to risk such a thing.

.Anders stops by the estate more and more, and the animosity between them settles into something of a comfort. The man is there when Leandra is killed, he is there to stop him from killing Merrill just a few nights after, he is there to drag him home from the Blooming Rose when he drinks too much to remember where he lives. Marcus knows he doesn’t deserve any of it, and he is selfish when he kisses Anders for the first time in years, selfish when he tries to drag him into bed, selfish when he asks him to stay the night. Marcus’ rise to Viscount is the only thing that keeps Anders safe, and is the only reason that Anders is able to be smuggled from Kirkwall after the explosion.

.It’s a year and a half before they see each other again. Justice has been calmed over the months, and Marcus’ attempts at keeping Kirkwall sane had slowly been overthrown by a group of zealots. A mage couldn’t hold position for any longer, and he had no choice but to flee. He’d spent six months building a home for himself in the ruins of Lothering, and he welcomes Anders with laughter and disbelief when he sees the man again. Years had passed since they had first met in Darktown, but seeing Marcus with a small herd and a weight settling in his gut, it’s the most real he’s ever been.

.They settle together, never intending for it to be permanent. But there is a loneliness that could only be combatted together, and when mages begin to find them it’s hard not to fall in love with one another when they work to rebuild what was once lost. A small village sprouts around them, mages seeking safety and succour found under the guidance of a heavy stranger named Conchobhar, and that taller fellow named Jarl.

...

.Goddard and Yetta’s relationship isn’t actually an in-game thing, since he’s seventy-one at the beginning of Inquisition, and like what options do I ever have apart from making him a sugar daddy (I missed a thing there for sure AH), so I gave him a wife called Yetta.

.Essentially, it’s an arranged marriage for them. Which begins terribly, because neither want to marry the other; Goddard is still holding out hope that he will find his first love again, and Yetta was betrothed to him since she was a child so she’s never had a choice. Their wedding is awkward, Goddard tries to convince his little brother, Milward, to take his place, and Yetta is caught trying to escape from the actual event. Goddard also turns up in Orlesian finery in an attempt to insult Yetta’s family and to remind them that he spent a good few years in bed with a chevalier. It works, but, the wedding still goes ahead, and they’re both miserably married by the end of the day.

.Despite his tactics, Goddard promises Yetta that he’d stay truthful to her regardless of whether or not they end up in bed together. And, in the beginning, neither of them wanted to. Goddard spends his nights sleeping on the floor, and there’s a more than obvious rumour floating around that they haven’t yet slept together. Despite all the pushes and shoves they receive; Goddard being pushed into Yetta’s room as she dresses for the day, Yetta being forced into the bathing chambers whilst Goddard is alone in there, conversations of sex being brought up at their meal times, and even being locked in their bedchamber for so long that Goddard ends up bum rushing the guards who bring them food at meal time.

.It’s not the best beginning, but there is a camaraderie that begins between them in their joint frustrations. Their attraction to one another begins in the written letters they send over the years. With Goddard working in Ferelden, and Yetta remaining in Ostwick, it’s the only way of communicating they have. And though it takes years, it’s hard to deny the way that their feelings grow each time Goddard gets some weeks away from the military.

.Together they have three children over the years, agreeing to stop trying after that due to Wakefield’s complicated birth. They remain happy together until this day, accepting a few blips over the years, and the rather gargantuan blunder of Goddard having an affair whilst incapacitated and presumed dead in Ferelden. Everything that is thrown at them is tackled head on and together, and it is obvious in almost everything that the do together, that their love grows ever stronger every minute they spent beside one another.

.TL:DR: all my heroes are happy and loved and alive :)c.

172 notes · View notes

keiyoomi · 4 years

Text

ang iwasan

☾pairing: tsukishima kei x reader; (ft. oc)

☾genre: angst

☾word count: 1,485 words

☾note: i have zero self-control. i haven’t written in english for years and the wc is kinda unexpected. i’m currently accepting requests while trying to complete my never ending WIPs. ah! and forgive me for not putting a ‘keep reading’ somewhere.

☾currently playing on repeat: ang iwasan by moira dela torre

☾ masterlist | part two

“KEI! Come here!” Your heart stopped as soon as you heard a familiar name coming out of your club mate’s lips. You were silently praying that she was calling a different man, but you know that your prayer did not work when a familiar manly scent engulfed your senses.

‘Did any deity ever listened whenever I pray?’ you asked before looking at the blond man, standing beside Akiko. He looks taller than you last saw him. His blank face reminds you of the days before formally knowing him. “H-Hi.” You were hesitating. Should you pretend that you’ve never met him before, or should you greet him the same way you greeted your other senpais?

Tsukishima briefly glance at Akiko before staring at you. He sat next to her before holding her hand. You forced a smile before looking at the two. “Hi,” he greeted back. Akiko leaned on his shoulder while looking at you.

“He’s a big baby, to be honest.”

You smiled bitterly. She didn’t have to tell you anything about him. You knew. You knew a lot about him. You know him all too well. His habits, his sarcasm, even his terrible sleeping pattern whenever they’re about to face strong opponents for the interhigh and spring tournament qualifiers. You know it all too well, but you can’t say anything.

What happened between you and Tsukishima was nothing, but a mere illusion, a mere daydream by someone who admires him from afar. Even Yamaguchi didn’t know that you were in a relationship with Kei during their third year in high school.

“Y/N, you’re also a Karasuno graduate, right?” she asked before taking a sip of her drink. You nodded your head in response, afraid that your voice will sound shaky after remembering some moments you’ve had with Tsuki. “Oh! Then you’ve heard about Kei! I’ve heard that their volleyball team reached the finals and ranked third in the country before their batch graduated.”

‘Of course, I knew. I was there. I was with them after the match. I was with him when he cried in silence, disappointed with how their match turned out. I was there.’ If only you could voice out what’s on your mind. You shook your head before smiling. “I wasn’t paying attention with any sports club. Our club’s also busy handling numerous events during that time.”

“Oh.” Then, she tapped Tsukishima’s hand. “We can take her with us. She probably knows some of your team’s members.”

Your eyes met his before you look away. You were planning to skip the said gathering. Even if Ennoshita is persistently telling you to come. Even if Yachi threatened that she will drag you out of your apartment if you’ll try to skip it. You were planning to skip it in order to avoid him. In order to forget what happened almost two years ago.

But it seems like life has some twisted humor.

A week later, you found yourself wearing a black sweater and skinny jeans, paired with black velvet pumps. Yachi pointed out that it looks like you were about to attend a funeral, she’s not completely wrong though. You were really about to attend a funeral—the funeral of your dying heart that is still yearning to be with Tsukishima.

Old familiar faces greeted you with warm hugs. Even Kageyama wrapped his arms around you making your eyes widen. You were lowkey panicking as you searched for someone inside the room. Then, your eyes met hers—Akiko’s.

“Y/N, have you seen Tsukishima? He finally brought a girlfriend!” Hinata says enthusiastically while dragging you towards the ‘new’ couple. Akiko was glaring at you as you stood in front of them. “Akiko, this is Y/N—”

“—I know,” she cut-off. “We attend the same university and have several classes together. I didn’t expect to see her here, though. I thought she has something to do today.”

Hinata shook his head. “She hates any type of gathering. She didn’t even send us off when we graduated,” he said before looking at your pale face. “Wait, are you okay, Y/N?”

You forced a smile before answering. “I’m dizzy, but I’ll live.”

“How about you take a seat for a while?”

“I wouldn’t turn down your offer,” you responded almost instantly.

You thought you’d be able to stand Kei and Akiko’s presence, but clearly, you can’t. It was suffocating and it makes you feel sick. . .betrayed, at some point.

“You should’ve confessed your feelings to him before he graduated if you really like him.” You sharply turned to Yaotome who handed you a drink (which you accepted and downed within a minute.)

“They were together for less than a year,” Tokita says, which made you elbow his side making him wince. “It wasn’t my fault that you’re a terrible drinker,” he added as he gave you another plastic cup filled with beer. “Any alcoholic beverage is like a truth serum for her. Once she gets drunk, she’ll spill any secrets she knows!”

“SHUT UP, TOKITA!”

Everyone turned their heads towards your direction, including Shoji who shook his head while looking at your direction. “Do not say another word you fucking idiot. I will definitely cut your tongue if—”

“—YOU’RE ALREADY AT THAT STAGE?” It was everyone’s turn to look at Tsukishima’s direction. Sugawara’s voice was louder than the music playing in the background. “Daichi, Akiko says they’re already planning their wedding. Can you believe it? Tsukishima’s getting married before we do?”

You feel sick.

“I-I need some air,” you said before walking out of the establishment. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you descended the stairs. As soon as you stepped out of the entrance, you’ve decided to run. You weren’t exactly sure where you’re going, but anywhere is better than staying at the same place as Tsukishima and his new girlfriend.

You were running with tears clouding your vision that you didn’t even noticed the gap on the sidewalk, twisting your ankle and making you fall on the ground. You removed your pumps before throwing it away.

You were in pain. Physically and emotionally. You were hoping that you’d be able to heal your brokenheart, but you simply can’t do such thing. Not after discovering when they began seeing each other. Not when they’re already three steps ahead in their relationship compared to what you had with him. The worst part, he actually announced their relationship to everyone. Unlike yours.

You wanted to scream out loud, hoping that it would ease the pain you’re feeling inside. You wanted to but nothing else, aside from sobs, comes out of your lips. You were hitting your chest when a hand wrapped around your wrist, keeping you from doing so.

You tried to pull your hand from his grip as soon as you see his golden brown eyes. “Let me go! Let go you fucking ass!” you screamed while hitting him. “Let me go! Please let me be. . .” you sobbed.

“Why did you leave? Were you trying to worry Suga—”

You scoffed. “Why? Did you expect me to stay in the same place as you? After everything I’ve heard from Akiko last week? You expect me to. . .”

He let your wrist go before placing his jacket on your shoulder. You immediately stood despite feeling the sharp pain on your ankle. Then, you removed the jacket before harshly throwing it to him. “Fuck you,” you said angrily before walking away from him.

He gripped your arm making you glare at him. “Let me help you.”

“Fuck off. I don’t need your help.”

“You’re hurting yourself.”

“I’ve been hurting myself this past few months!” You yelled, tears streaming down your cheeks. “This physical pain? This is nothing.” You forcefully removed his hand from your arm. “Don’t act like you care about me. Not after hurting me like this.”

You tried to fight back the tears, but you can’t. Especially with the heaviness in your chest, one you’ve been carrying for months. “You could’ve told me that you no longer love. . .” you sobbed before scoffing. “Did you even love me?” you whispered before looking at his eyes. “You could’ve told me that you’re no longer interested in me. Instead of making up some shitty excuse about not wanting to have a long distance relationship.”

“Let me explain.”

You shook your head, slowly pushing him away from you. “You don’t have to. I’ll. . .I’ll be fine. Eventually.” You, then, fished something out of your pocket. A silver necklace with a moon pendant, one that he gave your during your first month together.

“Let’s just pretend that nothing happened between us, at all. It’s not like anyone knew what happened between us anyway.” You placed the necklace on his hand before forcing a smile. “I hope you’ll be happy with her, Kei.” You lightly caressed his cheeks before smiling sadly. “Goodbye.”

☾ taglist: @haikyuu-ink ; @kenchiko ; @agaassi ; @benvo ; tba (send an ask or dm if you’d like to be added/removed!)

#keiyoomi: angst #keiyoomi: haikyū!!#tsukishima kei x reader angst #tsukishima x reader angst #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #hq tsukishima #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima scenarios #hq!! angst

508 notes · View notes

ghstandpucks · 3 years

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 9

Hi everyone! I hope you are all doing well! Sorry this chapter took forever! But I hope you enjoy it! I have the rest of the series planned out, and it should be about 6 more chapters. I’m excited about where it is going and I hope you are too! Stay healthy, safe, and enjoy! Let me know what you think! Tags are open!

Prologue Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8

The following Wednesday you were at practice. Bednar had the team gathered in a semi-circle as he informed them of the upcoming schedule before the holidays. “Oh and Coach Y/L/N. In case you didn’t know, we are playing Anaheim this Sunday,” Bednar turned back toward you.

“Oh yay!” you said, clapping your hands together quickly. You couldn’t help but be excited to see some of your friends on the Ducks again. As soon as you said that though, you had many unapproving looks shot at you from the team. “I mean, oh no?”

“Who are you really rooting for Coach?” Tyson called out.

“You guys, obviously,” you stated flippantly. “I know how they skate and I know how their skating coach skates so we got this.” Bednar chuckled.

“I was going to ask if there is anything we should know about your time with the team?” he asked, and you looked at him questioningly.

“No?” you said, confused at where he was going with this.

“Just asking. Hockey players make comments and I would like for us to be prepared if they say anything about you,” he explained.

“Oh,” you said, and thought for a second. “To be honest, I was mostly just around them for a quick showcase, charity events, or galas that they had. I have a few good friends from the team but I don’t think they would really say anything. I was more like everyone’s little sister when I was with them,” you said and everyone nodded. “Oh! If you hear the term ‘little dove’, that’s me.”

“Little dove?” Gabe asked, and you shrugged.

“A few called me little duck at first. But then after a showcase at one of their events I had performed in this greyish-pink dress and Getzlaf started to call me little dove. The rest of the team just followed along,” you explained. You caught eyes with Nate, and he smiled softly. You had just told him about that nickname last week when he saw a comment on your Instagram post from Hampus Lindholm. You had posted a funny picture from practice of Tyson laying flat on the ice and you doubled over laughing at him because he had seemingly tripped over nothing. You accompanied it with a caption of how the team always seems to brighten your day with a laughing emoji. Hampus commented “We feel so betrayed little dove.”

After practice that day, Nate was over at your apartment after having gone to the store to get stuff for dinner. You wanted to cook that night, so he thought it was only fair if he bought the groceries. Since the two of you had started dating, you tended to stay in at his or your place, not wanting to fuel rumors. A picture of the two of you dancing at the gala was posted recently, the media team not thinking much of it, but oh boy did it spread like wildfire. While your fans thought it was cute, Nate’s fans were a mix. You were starting to see how vicious some hockey fans could be.

You were finishing the shrimp for shrimp scampi when Nate came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I have a question,” he mumbled into the hair at the top of your head. You hummed, encouraging him to go on. “What do you want for Christmas?” he asked. You smiled, forgetting that it was already December.

“Nothing,” you said simply.

“There has to be something,” Nate stole a shrimp from the pan and you batted his hand away. He chuckled and kissed your cheek. You finished the dish, turned off the stove, and turned to face him.

“Well, there is something,” you smiled up at him. Nate smiled back at you, raising his eyebrow in question. “A unicorn.” Nate’s face fell and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Seriously Y/N?”

“Actually, in all seriousness, I want a unicorn that poops rainbows. But I know those are hard to find,” you laughed as Nate rolled his eyes at you. He maneuvered you away from the stove and lifted you onto the counter, standing in between your legs.

“Why are you being difficult?” Nate asked, humor in his voice.

“Well what do you want for Christmas?” you asked, smiling widely at him. Nate shrugged.

“I don’t need anything,” he said.

“It’s not about what you need. What do you want?”

“Nothing.” Nate smiled mockingly at you.

“You can’t say nothing and expect me to tell you something!” You laughed. The conversation went on like this for another 10 minutes, neither one of you giving in. You kept up with wanting a unicorn, much to Nate’s dismay. He knew he wasn’t the most romantic, and really wanted to get this right with you. Since he wouldn’t tell you anything though, you didn’t budge either. It seemed like you had both met your match when it came to stubbornness.

A while later, Nate had just got out of the shower and you were finishing putting the dishes away from dinner. As you turned your lights off and made sure your front door was locked, you looked out the window and immediately smiled. It was snowing. Running into your bedroom, you started to grab your big coat and a beanie, shoving your feet into a pair of boots. “Going somewhere?” Nate asked as he walked out of the bathroom, highly confused.

“It’s snowing outside! Let’s go!” you squealed, throwing his shirt and sweatshirt at him.

“This isn’t the first time it’s snowed since you’ve been here Y/N,” Nate chuckled, but continued to get dressed to go outside.

“Yes, but it usually happens when I’m sleeping or at the rink! I haven’t been out while it’s snowing yet!” You bounced around your room, continuing to check the window to make sure snow was still falling.

“It’s just snow,” Nate said, finally finishing putting his shoes on. You grabbed his hand and pulled him to your front door.

“Yes, but I’m from Southern California! I always had to drive to the snow. I want to go outside while it’s coming down actually!” You grabbed your keys and left your apartment. Nate allowed you to drag him along, silently amused at your excitement. Luckily for the two of you, your apartment building had a secluded courtyard in the middle so you didn’t have to go out front to the main street. This allowed Nate and you not to worry about being seen together this late at night. That would definitely be the source of more speculation.

Once outside, you giggled with excitement and ran to the middle of the empty courtyard. Looking up toward the sky, you stuck your tongue out to catch the snow as it came down. Nate walked up beside you and grabbed your hand. You took out your phone and had Nate take a picture of the two of you, realizing you really didn’t have any. What better way to commemorate your first snow in Colorado than with Nate? After spinning around all excited for a moment, you walked back over to Nate and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his sweatshirt as your nose was starting to freeze. Nate held you close to him, looking down and tilting your chin up so you met his eyes. He chuckled softly at your red cheeks and nose, leaning down and fitting his lips to yours. The two of you stood there for a moment, lost in a blissful bubble you had created. You pulled away slightly and shivered, the cold starting to get to you. Nate smiled softly and kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you inside before you freeze,” he muttered, taking your hand and leading you back up to your apartment. Once back in your apartment and in your pajamas, you crawled into bed and over to Nate who was already laying down looking through his phone. You cuddled into his side and weaved your legs with his.

“Jesus babe! Your feet are freezing!” he jumped slightly, putting his phone down. You laughed but didn’t move.

“Poor circulation from tying my skates too tight over the years. Sorry,” you giggled. Nate shook his head, but didn’t bother moving. If being with you meant dealing with cold feet, he didn’t think that was a bad price to pay.

~ ~ ~

Sunday had arrived and it brought with it the Ducks. You were currently standing by the bench with the other coaches as the team was warming up. You had just finished talking with Bradie Tennell, the skating coach for the Ducks. The two of you were on the Olympic team together and had become good friends. She let you know that the team had been good to her so far, and that made you happy. You were leaning against the board when Ryan Getzlaf skated up to you.

“How are they treating you, little dove?” he asked, and you smiled at the familiarity of the name. The question didn’t surprise you; he had always been protective. You were young and talented when you first started to skate in Anaheim, and some of the rookies took interest in you. Being so focused on making the Olympic team though, you barley noticed. The captain announced one practice that you were off limits, and they complied. After that it seemed the whole team had become extra protective of you.

“Good! They’re a good group. I like it here,” you answered honestly. He nodded and looked back out over the ice.

“Is that why it looks like I’m about to get in a fight with 29 tonight?” Ryan smirked at you. You found Nate on the ice and smiled at him, and the tension in his jaw seemed to release as he went back to what he was doing. Nate knew you were friends with the Ducks and figured some may go talk to you; but he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy that they could talk to you so openly and no one would question it while the two of you had to date secretly.

“He’s just protective like you are,” you tried to laugh it off, but Ryan gave you a look that said you were not fooling him. You smiled sweetly and he shook his head.

“Whatever you say little dove,” Ryan said and skated off.

“Be nice!” you yelled after him and he let out a laugh.

“Will you stop fraternizing with the enemy Coach?” Tyson asked skating into the box.

“Just for you Tyson,” you winked at him.

Later, the third period had just began and the teams were tied. The whole game had been a back and forth with scoring. A few times when one of the Ducks would skate by, they would say hi, wave, or wink at you. The winking seemed to happen only when Nate was on the bench, and you were wondering if Ryan had said anything. You needed to work on being a better liar.

Nate was on the ice when Hampus Lindholm skated by before a face off. “You know, we were all sad when Y/N left us to come here. I would think she’s a good coach,” Hampus judged Nate’s reaction. Nate side-eyed him, but didn’t say anything. “She’s cute too,” Hampus pushed a bit further. The Ducks’ captain had said that chirping about Y/N was off limits, but he had also said he felt it may get under MacKinnon’s skin. When you talked about being friends with some of the Ducks, Hampus was one of them. He didn’t want to be disrespectful toward you, but he thought it would be fun to see if he could push the center’s buttons. Nate took a deep breath and continued to ignore him. “You know she was my date to a charity event once,” Hampus continued. Nate did know this; you had told him you went as friends since you were going to the charity also. He knew it was nothing, he knew Lindholm was trying to dig at him, but that doesn’t mean that it didn’t bother him. When the puck was dropped, Nate threw himself into the defenseman, promptly flattening him out on the ice.

Nothing was called and the play kept going, but you stood behind the bench with wide eyes. What had just happened? You were so distracted in your own thoughts that you hadn’t realized the buzzard had gone off, signaling an Avs’ goal. Turning your attention back to the team celebrating at the end of the ice, you saw them all gathering around Nate. Of course you had missed it. That was the only score of the third period, the Avs winning 3-2.

After the game and interviews were done, you had said bye to some of the guys and Bradie. Nate had asked if you wanted to stay at his place that night, so you made your way to his apartment. You texted him that you were there, and he told you the front was unlocked. Upon walking into his apartment, he called you over to the couch where he was laying down and pulled you down on top of him. You gave him a quick kiss, then settled your chin on his chest, looking at him expectantly. “So,” you started. Nate knew where the conversation was going.

“You really did just go to the charity thing with Lindholm as friends, right?” he asked, furrowing his brow a little.

“Yeah, that’s all it was. Why?”

“He said you were his date,” Nate shrugged and started to play with your hair, twisting and untwisting a strand around his finger.

“As friends. I have no feelings for him whatsoever,” you explained, then realized why he was asking you to clarify. “Is that why you hit him so hard during the game?” Nate averted his eyes from you, slightly ashamed he let what Lindholm had said get to him. You giggled, knowing that was the issue. “Nate, babe. There was nothing there, nor will there every be anything there. And that goes for the rest of everyone. Don’t let it get to you okay,” you said, kissing him softly. You pulled away and rested your palm against his cheek. “Plus, he’s not my type.” That perked Nate right up.

“So, what is your type?” he wrapped his arms around you with a smirk.

“Big, burly, 6-foot Canadians with blue eyes who are just as stubborn as I am,” you smirked at him. Nate rolled his eyes, but laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. He flipped the two of you so that your back was to the couch now with him hovering over you. Nate started placing quick kisses all over your face and you giggled as his stubble tickled your neck. The two of you stayed like that for a while longer before ordering take out and getting ready for bed.

~ ~ ~

The holidays fast approached, and you were thankful the team had four days off for Christmas. You had already booked a flight back home for the morning of Christmas Eve, and would be flying back to Denver on the morning of the 26th. For you, going home was easy as it was only a two in a half hour flight. You had booked it when you first got the schedule back in September. You were starting to feel bad that not everyone on the team would be going home though, Nate included. If you had known that you would have been in any sort of relationship, you may have opted to stay as well. When you brought this up to Nate, he told you not to worry about it, and that he would even take you and pick you up from the airport.

On the 23rd, you and Nate had just got back to your apartment after having dinner with everyone who was still in town. Since there were multiple people going, you figured nothing would come of it to be seen out with Nate in public. The two of you were still keeping your relationship from mostly everyone on the team, so it was easy to act like you had been at practice. To anyone who didn’t know, it just looked like you two were good friends.

You showered and put your pajamas on, setting out your present for Nate on the coffee table and finding a movie to watch while he showered. You had settled on watching a Hallmark Christmas movie, because who doesn’t secretly love the cheesiness of it all? Nate sat down next to you on the couch and pulled you into his side. Placing a blanket over the both of you, you settled into watching the movie, pointedly trying to ignore the Christmas gift bag he had set down on the coffee table next to your gift to him.

After the movie, you turned the tv off and just enjoyed being in each other’s company. The only lights on were the Christmas lights from the fake tree you had set up, and other Christmas lights you had decorated with. Your apartment looked a bit like Christmas exploded in it, but it made you happy and Nate laugh. You made some hot chocolate, and sat back down facing Nate. Handing him his, you took a sip and set your mug down on the coffee table, in turn picking up your gift to him. “Present time!” you sang, handing him the gift. You weren’t sure what he would think of it, realizing it was difficult to buy for someone who seemingly had everything he wanted.

Nate unwrapped the gift, and smiled upon taking it out of the box. It was a wooden watch, one that you had found on Etsy. It was a dark stained wood that you had engraved on the back of the watch face. As Nate turned it over in his hands, he smiled wider and chuckled. You were able to convince the designer to engrave a hockey skate and a figure skate. Above the skates read “Merry Christmas” with the year, and both your initials. “I know you already have a watch, but I thought the wood was neat and I was excited when the person said they could engrave the skates on it, and…” you were cut off from your rambling by Nate pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“It’s perfect Y/N. Thank you,” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead and admiring the thoughtful gift. He set it down and handed you the gift bag. You smiled while you took the tissue paper off the top, feeling fabric at the bottom of the bag and took it out. You laughed, seeing the familiar burgundy and blue. Holding it out in front of you, you saw the 29 on the arm, turning it around to see ‘MacKinnon’ on the back. While you unfolded it though, a smaller box fell into your lap. “I know you can’t wear it to games, but I wanted to get you my jersey,” Nate explained as you slipped it on over your pajama top.

“Thank you,” you said, blushing slightly and turning your attention to the box. Opening it up, you saw the most beautiful, small and delicate figure skate charm you had even seen. It was gold with diamonds encrusted into it. Taking it out of the box, you noticed it was attached to a delicate gold chain as a necklace. You turned it over in your hand, feeling something on the back of the charm. You giggled, noticing a ‘29’ engraved onto the back. “Nate, it’s beautiful.”

“I thought you could at least wear my number to games this way. If you don’t like it we can go get you something else,” Nate looked at you unsure, and you shook your head.

“Help me put it on?” you asked, and turned around. Nate deftly clasped the necklace together. “How does it look?”

“Perfect,” he said, and you grinned at him.

“I love it, thank you,” you said, and leaned in to kiss him. What was an innocent gesture quickly turned heated as Nate pulled you onto his lap, you straddling him. Your fingers carded through the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands pushed the hem of the jersey and your pajama shirt up, gripping your hips. You pulled back after some time, needing to take a breath and maneuvered yourself to where you were sitting in Nate’s lap and leaned your head on his shoulder. Nate chuckled, kissing your forehead.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you can’t wear my jersey to games. I don’t think I could concentrate,” he mumbled. You giggled and pecked his neck, the both of you settling back down.

The following morning Nate drove you to the airport. Thankful for his tinted windows, you kissed him quickly before anyone would figure out who the both of you were and grabbed your bags. “Merry Christmas Nate,” you said, slipping out of the car.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” he said with a soft smile, and you felt your heart tug at the thought of leaving him for a few days. It struck you that this was the first time since September you wouldn’t be around him almost every day.

“I will,” you returned his smile. Nate quickly reached over the center counsel for your hand, bringing it up to his lips.

“Merry Christmas Y/N,” he said lightly, realizing the same thing you were. You grabbed your bags and smiled, waving as you shut the door and headed into the airport. Nate made sure you were inside the building before he took off, not being bothered by the honks he was receiving from annoyed holiday travelers.

Tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @comphybiscuit @calesykar @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #Cutting Edge

105 notes · View notes

marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

You woke up in a sweat. Little beads dotted your upper lip and temples. The source of the heat was all around you, encompassing the space you occupied. It held you so close that you wondered in your hazy awakeness if you would ever feel the cold again. Not that you wouldn’t mind. Summer was always your favorite time of year. But right now, you could use a break from the personal space heater.

Eyes breaking open, you sucked in air at how close Minseok was. His entire outline was a blur, only his nose and mouth in sharp focus. The previous night’s events came back to you. Though still slightly hazy, you remembered falling asleep during the movie, Minseok bringing you up here, and then asking him to stay. It was quite possibly the most peaceful rest you’d had in your life.

Minseok was still asleep. His mouth was open just a bit and the slightest bit of tension in his eyebrows. Your arms were pinned between your chest and his. If you uncurled your fingers you could touch his slack jaw. Minseok’s arm was tight around your waist. He sighed happily before snuggling in closer, moving his face so it now rested in the crook of your neck. Okay, as satisfied as he was, this was now getting a bit uncomfortable for you.

“Minseok?” He didn’t move. “Minseok.” You kept squirming until he finally woke up.

At first he merely blinked away the sleep. When his eyes focused on you, they grew wide in horror. He scrambled back to give you room.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“It’s okay,” you said. The smile was nearly impossible to hold back. As you also sat up, your hand slipped under the pillow, hitting something hard. You frowned. It felt like a book. Did he like to read before he fell asleep? You pulled the book out. No.

It was your notebook of ideas.

Panic set in his eyes. “I swear I was going to give it back.”

“Where did you find it?”

“I’m the wolf you’ve been meeting in the clearing, remember? I found it the first day. I meant to give it back to you, but it would have been hard to explain, given the circumstances.”

You took a deep breath. The notebook was a reminder of all the information that had been dumped on you in the last twenty-four hours. It had been so easy to ignore the processing time your brain needed. Being in Minseok’s presence made it easy to forget a lot of things. “I, uh, I think I should go home.”

Disappointment was an understatement for Minseok’s expression. “Yeah. Right. I’ll take you back home.”

“Actually, I just need to get to my car. I parked it on one of the back roads.”

“Okay.”

He waited patiently for you to get out of the bed and put your shoes back on. He didn’t question why you’d parked out there. Simple answer was that he had made the connection to your little hike. You excused yourself to go to a bathroom, in which he pointed you towards. You didn’t have anything to brush your teeth or hair, so you settled on a splash of water to the face. Your go-to bathroom habit at this point. When you returned to the bedroom, Minseok was in fresh clothes. Keys in hand, he stepped passed you without a word. You followed him down to the first floor. Using your notebook as a shield against your chest, you tried to be as invisible to any of the others you ran into as you exited the house. Out in the garage, you got into the car that Minseok indicated.

The ride was quiet, save for the few times you gave Minseok directions to where you’d parked your car. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the glass. You were still tired and could feel a headache starting to emerge.

“Uh, (y/n)?”

“Hm? What is it?” You opened your eyes and nearly shot out of the car.

Several police cars and at least twenty civilians were all huddled around the area where your car sat. Erik was amongst them, talking to one of the officers. As soon as Minseok’s vehicle was pulled over to the side and the engine turned off, you bolted.

“Erik!”

He looked so relieved when he saw you. The officer looked shocked, then his face rested into a neutral expression. “You must be (y/n).”

You nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s going on?”

Minseok came up just then. Erik did a double take then frowned. His eyes drifted down to your hand. You were still holding on to the notebook that Erik would recognize in a heartbeat. He motioned to Minseok with his head as he asked you, “The guy from the pictures?”

Minseok looked surprised at the comment. And even a little embarrassed. But he did the gentleman thing and held out his hand. “I’m Minseok.”

Erik ignored the hand, barely glancing at it. “We were all worried about you. Do you realize what we thought when your phone was off and the cops found your car out here?”

You flinched back. “I’m sorry, I was… taking pictures. I lost track of time.”

“You lost track of time?” Erik scoffed. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Hey, back off,” Minseok growled, taking a step so he was now partially between you and Erik. “She’s a grown adult. She doesn’t have to check in with you every three hours. She can make her own decisions.”

Erik looked him up and down. “That much is apparent.”

Shaking your head, you turned to the third man in the group. “I’m sorry, officer. This was all a misunderstanding.”

“It’s alright. Just be careful next time, okay? Maybe let someone know where you are.” He looked at Erik. “We’ll call off the search party and let everyone go home.”

“Thank you,” Erik said. His tone was low and short. The officer left to scatter the rest of the people. Erik barely looked at you. “I’m glad you’re safe. Turn your phone back on.” With that, he stalked off towards his car.

Minseok scratched the back of his head as he shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“It’s fine. Really, it's my own fault.” You dug your keys out of your pocket. “I should get home.”

“I understand. Can we talk? Later?” He sounded so hopeful, so sure. But you still needed time to think. Your brain felt scrambled, pulled and stretched like taffy on a hook.

“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Later.”

He must have been hoping for a more enthusiastic response. You didn’t have the energy for that right now. “Okay. Um, okay.” That was his goodbye as he turned and headed back to his car. Did he have to look so much like a wounded puppy? You watched his car disappear down the road, a cloud of tan dust following closely behind.

You waited for everyone else to clear out before getting into your own car. For a minute or two, you sat there. It seemed so bizarre, surreal, the situation you found yourself in. And it wasn’t even the pack of humans-to-wolves that had you so disoriented. It was the fact that Erik had called the police, that a search party had been formed to find you after one night away. It was obvious that he still cared, break or not. Turning on your phone, you groaned as the notifications stacked up. Missed calls, texts in all caps, other social media contacts. You tossed the device into the passenger’s seat and drove home.

Willa was waiting for you at the dorms. As soon as you walked through the door, she pounced.

“Oh, thank god you’re okay!” When she let you go, she punched you in the shoulder.

“Ow!” You rubbed the sore spot. “Was that really necessary?”

Willa pouted. “You could have least told me that you were heading out. Might have saved us this fiasco.”

“You were asleep.” And you would have been punched anyway. Willa insisted that she had no control over her limbs in that groggy state, but you didn’t entirely believe that. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Minseok’s right, I'm an adult. I don’t need babysitters.”

“Who’s Minseok?”

Oh… crap. “Um, he’s just a friend. A tutor, really.”

Willa took that pathetic explanation. Although, truthfully, that was how it all started. “Oh, did you finally decide to get help so you can finally pass math class?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Jerk.”

“What?” Willa said innocently. “I want to see you graduate. You’ve been talking about getting your masters and I want to see you do that. Kind of need to pass your classes to get there.”

Stalking past her, you fell down on your bed, face towards the ceiling.

“Hey, you okay?” Willa asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just tired.”

“I bet, if you stayed out all night.” Willa sat down on her bed across from you. “Where were you, anyway?”

You shrugged. “Just… around. Clearing my head.”

“You were safe, at least?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good.”

Nearly a week went by. You went to class as normal. You were nearly finished with your extra credit project. Minseok had given you the perfect jumping off point and diving into the project had given you the ultimate excuse to not think about anything else. Between that and your other classes, you’d hardly had any interaction with the people close to you. Besides Willa, you’d almost completely isolated yourself. The reasoning you had given yourself was to think things through, to decide if you would turn back around and go down the other road or keep heading forward. The only problem was, you kept avoiding it.

You didn’t think about Erik or Minseok. Or, you tried not to. If little thoughts of them started to creep up, you would find something to distract yourself with. A jog, a scary movie (avoiding anything supernatural), or homework. You would immerse yourself until the thoughts went away. Avoidance might not have been a healthy coping mechanism, but it was the one you were going with.

You were currently participating in that mechanism as you lied on your bed, watching videos on the internet. It was simply you and your short laughs as you switched from clip to clip. The internet was a black hole. Once you got too close, you were sucked into a place where time no longer moved at a normal pace.

Willa walked in and dropped her bag on the floor. You barely acknowledged her long, drawn out sighs that were clearly made for attention. She sighed again. Louder, this time. When that still didn’t work, she threw her pillow at you.

You turned off the phone and finally looked at your best friend. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”

“It could have been avoided if you’d looked up from your phone the first time.”

Sitting up, you turned to her. “Okay. What can I do for you?”

She pursed her lips. “I’m hungry.” Like it had been waiting for an invitation, your own stomach growled. Willa smiled. “Sounds like you are, too!”

You laughed. “Sure, okay. Let’s go get something to eat.”

Willa hopped off the bed and switched her things from her backpack to a purse. You pulled on a pair of shoes and shoved your feet in. As the two of you headed out and towards Willa’s car, she came up with an additional idea.

“Why don’t you ask Erik to join us?”

You cringed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

She sent you a look. “Why not?”

That was right. You hadn’t completely updated her on the recent events of your life. “Because… we’re on a break.”

She unlocked her car and opened the driver’s side door, but didn’t get in. Leaning against the open space, she said, “Like… a real break or a Ross and Rachel kind of break?”

You shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.”

Willa was quiet for a second. She was looking away from you, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Was he the one who suggested it?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“I-” She clicked her tongue several times. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it wasn’t my place and I didn’t know what the situation was anyway. This is college, we all have to work with others and-”

“Willa, spit it out.” Your heart was picking up speed in anticipation of what secret she was about to reveal.

“I’ve seen Erik talking to some girl in the theatre department. A lot.” She threw her hands up. “Innocently, by the way. It didn’t look suspicious at all, besides the frequency. And the fact that it was just the two of them. Did I just make things worse?”

You found the corners of your lips turning up. “No, actually, I feel a lot better.”

“Really?” Willa looked taken aback. “Are you saying that… you might not be in love with Erik anymore?”

“I think we’ve grown apart,” you said.

“Maybe… because of someone else?” Willa looked at you with a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s take this one step at a time, okay? Get in. I’m hungry.”

Willa laughed softly to herself, but got behind the wheel. The two of you had dinner at the small malt shop that had been a staple in the city for decades. You munched happily on the fries and sipped on your chocolate shake with no worries whatsoever. Willa saw your sudden change in mood, but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation on a lighter note.

Apparently, talking to someone about what was going on was, indeed, a good idea. It was natural for two people to grow apart. And you had been destined for someone else all along.

The next day, you went about your routine as normal. After your last class, you headed towards the theatre. It was hell week, as the thespians say. It meant every spare moment was spent in the theatre to get ready for opening night. Erik would be there to make sure any last touches on the set were taken care of. As you neared the building, a familiar spectacled man exited the front doors with a small group of people.

“Eric, wait.”

He stopped and waited for you to meet him. He had a tight grip on the strap of his messenger bag. The group stopped and waited, but he shooed them on.

“What is it, (y/n)?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for this.” He looked down at the cement sidewalk, kicking an invisible object. “I guess the break will be permanent, then, huh?”

You moved your own gaze off to the side. “I… um.”

Then it hit you. Why did you have to be so scared about this? It wasn’t a permanent ending. And you were allowed to make your own choices. You shouldn’t have to beat around the bush and spare his feelings. Wouldn’t it be better just to be honest?

“You know what? Yes, it will be,” you said assertively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but that’s life. People change, others come along. And from what I hear, you’re moving on, too.”

Erik’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” you said. “And neither have I. But feelings change. It's okay to follow them.” A mindset you were only now learning for yourself.

Erik adjusted the bag’s strap to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s good that it ended this way. Maybe... we could still be friends?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Arm’s length friends, anyway.

Erik looked over his shoulder at the group that was now huddled around a car. “I’ve got to go. But… thank you. For talking to me about this. I feel a lot better. I hope you do, too.”

You blinked. “Yeah, of course.”

Erik gave you one last wave before going to join the others. The sun was starting to go down, but you didn’t want to go back to the dorms just yet. You decided to head downtown, to walk around and figure out what exactly you would say to Minseok. You knew it had to be in person. Simply calling him wouldn’t be enough. You needed to see him.

Hey, so Erik and I officially broke up. And I like you. Heck, I might even be falling in love with you. I want to be your mate. Now what?

Yeah, you could be so articulate sometimes.

Night had fallen by now. The brightest stars in the sky were shining, breaking through the city lights that drowned out the others. A few people milled about. It was that lull time of night when the dinner rush was dying out and people were getting ready for their late night escapades.

“(y/n)!”

You nearly laughed out loud before turning around. It was like Fate was pulling the strings, putting you on the path that would lead you right back to him. And you couldn’t say that you were upset about it. In fact, it might be the push you needed.

“Hi, Minseok,” you said in a quiet voice as he approached. He was alone. Thank goodness. You didn’t really want to have an audience for this.

“How have you been?” He kept his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. His shoulders were tense, pushed upwards as if he were holding himself back.

“Not… too horrible,” you replied. “You?”

“Anxious.” He was honest. Too honest. Knowing that he’d been anxiously waiting for you to do what you promised, to talk to him, made you feel horrible, selfish. Might as well stop stalling and pull the bandaid off in one go.

“I, um, I talked to Erik.”

His head shot up, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You did?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “We… we broke up. For good. People drift apart. And, not only did I find myself drifting away from him, but I drifted towards someone else. Someone really special, made just for me.”

A smile so wide that his gums were showing spread across his face. He took a step towards you. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Really.”

Minseok didn’t hesitate. He reached forward, cupping your face with both of his hands. Then he kissed you.

The first kiss was deep and electrifying. It was warm, soft. He took it slowly as you followed along. It was perfectly right.

He was still smiling when he pulled away. You giggled at his happiness. He took that as an invitation to pepper your lips with more short kisses. He moved to your cheeks and your nose, making sure to capture every inch of your face. You were surprised by the shower of affection, but you certainly enjoyed it. An eruption of cheers broke the sweet moment.

To your left, nearly the entire pack was clapping and cheering in jest. Junmyeon looked guilty and apologetic while Jongdae simply rolled his eyes.

“And here I thought this was going to be a private moment,” you groaned through your teeth.

“Sorry,” Minseok sighed. “Not in this family.”

You smiled at him. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”

He leaned his forehead against your own. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf au #exo werewolf!au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #The Untamed Universe #Catching Rain

245 notes · View notes