#can you believe how some people make their personal angst Everyone's Damn Problem
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Strangers
People can go from people you know to people you don’t.
This can be read from the point of view of either a romantic or platonic relationship. However, I think this is even more heartbreaking if you read it from a platonic relationship perspective, because sometimes friendship breakups are sometimes just as hard :(
I know Damian Wayne stans will come for me on this one, but I can’t help it! I feel like his personality would definitely hurt some feelings and cause problems in some relationships.
The summary is from Selena Gomez’s song “People You Know”, which I think perfectly describes this fic!
Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!
Pairing: Damian Wayne x gn!reader
Theme: Angst
Word Count: 1,567
You stop dead in your tracks. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Was that really him?
You squint slightly, examining him further. You instantly regret squinting though, because it only solidifies your hypothesis. It only confirms a recently acquired fear. A fear of seeing him in public. Up close. Alone.
It's funny how seeing Damian used to bring you so much joy, but now, it brings you bone-chilling dread.
Your breathing becomes abnormal. Sweat starts to precipitate in your palms and feet. Your heart skips a beat or two.
What should you do? Should you continue in the direction that you were originally going in? Should you break out into a run? Do you keep your head down? Do you turn around? Should you wish for a black hole to swallow you up and spit you out anywhere else in this universe? Anywhere but here? Anywhere where Damian Wayne isn’t.
His head was slightly down, as he walked with one hand in his pocket and the other scrolling through his phone. He hasn’t noticed you yet, but he was coming towards you. It would only be a matter of moments before the two of you be mere inches from one another.
You shook your head in an attempt to get out of your trance. You knew that if Damian saw you in that moment, you would look like a deer in headlights. And then he would know. He would know in that moment that he still had an effect on you. He would know with just one look at your face that you were still hurting. He would know that you still thought of him. He would know that your heart was still broken. And if Damian knew all this, that would mean that he won. And you would be damned if you ever let Damian win again.
It sounds childish to say, but having a relationship with Damian was like playing a game. Except you didn’t realize it was a game until your relationship disintegrated. You didn’t even know the rules, but Damian did, and he made sure that he changed those rules whenever it was convenient for him. That’s what being with Damian was like. His early childhood with his grandfather, Ras Al-Ghul, and his mother, Talia, primed him to be the next in line for the League of Assassins. This only inflated Damian’s ego, making him innately believe that he was truly better, stronger, faster, and smarter than everyone else. His father eventually was able to deflate his arrogance slightly, but being the child of billionaire and greatest detective alive Bruce Wayne further confirmed Damian’s belief that he was someone special. He was still better, stronger, faster, and smarter than most other people. He was meant for greater things.
All that might be true. Damian is a very special person. He may very well be a more well-rounded human than 99% of the population. Most people in his life catered to his every whim. Most people didn’t care to discipline him or teach him a lesson in kindness. Bruce, Alfred, and other people in the bat-family tried their best to steer him in the right direction. But ultimately, people just excused his behavior because…well, he’s Damian! And Damian is just special, and he doesn’t face the consequences of his actions like most other people do.
So, if other people couldn’t set him straight, why did you think you could? Why didn’t you let him continue using you as a doormat? Why couldn’t you just take it like everyone else?
It’s because you loved him and saw his potential. Not his potential as a crime-fighting superhero, or a super genius, or a businessman. You knew it was in him. You knew he had the ability to soften up. You’ve seen it with your own eyes before. The kindness he exhibited towards animals was unlike anything you’ve ever seen. His ability to connect with other life forms that were considered “lesser than” humans was unbelievable. You saw how he cared for his family and friends by showing up when they needed him. You even saw how he secretly waved and smiled at babies and toddlers whenever he thought no one was looking at him.
But you eventually became emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted. Resentment began to build up. Every argument had to end with Damian triumphing over you. His word always mattered more than yours. His opinions were more important. He was always right, and you were always wrong. The last time you saw him was the night when things permanently changed. You would never forget his stone-cold expression as you cried for him, begging him to change. Begging him to treat you the way you wanted to be treated. You were pleading with him to show you some mercy from his harsh criticism and unwanted advice. You poured your heart out to him about how you were hurting so bad it felt like you couldn’t even breathe around him. You cried like you never cried before, bawling like a baby, wishing that he would scoop you up in his arms and whisper apologies in your ear. You wished that he would make promises to treat you like the fragile object you were.
What good did your outburst do? It only led to the end of you and Damian as you knew it. The two of you hadn’t spoken since then. You’ve seen glimpses of each other on social media, and caught each other’s glances at a few mutual gatherings. But now is the first time the two of you didn’t have the luxury of hiding behind screens or friends.
You wanted to walk past him with an air of confidence, as if Damian was any other person. A stranger. Someone you never shared secrets with. Someone you never laughed with. Someone who never had a piece of your heart. Someone who didn’t infiltrate your thoughts almost daily. Seeing Damian in person brought buried memories to the forefront of your brain. Both good memories, and bad ones.
You felt like your feet were glued to the floor. But you had to move. You had to continue walking forward.
He got closer and closer. You gulped audibly. Your eyes began to water. Not because you were sad. Or mad. No, of course not. Your eyes were watery because you couldn’t blink. Or at least that’s what you deluded yourself in thinking in your frozen state.
His eyes were still glued to his phone. He was walking closer and closer. Your feet felt like they weighed tons. Your breathing became so erratic that you thought you would pass out. Your ears were ringing, the world around you was muffled. The only sounds you could hear were that of your own heart beating and his steady footsteps.
You were still frozen just as he nearly brushed your shoulder. He was so close you could see just about every vein and artery on his neck. Your eyes widen exponentially as you see his green eyes travel from his phone to your shoes, to your knees, to your waist, to your collarbone, and finally, to your eyes. You two lock eyes for the briefest moment, but it felt like an eternity to you. He caught you in your flustered state, with your shocked eyes, red face, and mouth gaping open. But Damian doesn’t stop walking for a single millisecond.
Just as you began to register what was happening, the moment quickly ends. He blinks and returns his gaze to his phone. Your jaw drops open. He knew who you were. He recognized you. And he still walked past you without so much as a hello. But that didn’t matter to Damian. You were someone that he didn’t know anymore.
Anger ravages through your body. Tears threaten to leak down your face. Your hands form fists and you began to shiver as your icy hot fury spreads like an infection to your entire body. You weren’t even sure why you were so hurt. Didn’t you want to ignore him anyways? Why did it matter that he did the same to you?
Just as soon as the anger covers your body, it dissipates and is replaced by overwhelming melancholy. You knew why it hurt you. It hurt because this was once Damian, your Damian. You secretly hoped every single day that Damian would swoop back into your life, with a grand apology and promises of kindness. With every step that he took farther and farther away from you, you realize that your hope was shattered. Because Damian was never really your Damian anyways. It was your own fantasy version of him. No matter how much you wanted him to change, Damian had to make the decision to change for himself. In just a few short seconds, you realize that there was no one to really be angry with but yourself. Damian showed you who he was unapologetically. You chose to blind yourself to indulge in your imagination. You chose to let him treat you like that. You had only yourself to blame for being so naive.
You watch as his form becomes smaller and smaller as he walks away from you. As far as you can tell, he was completely unaffected seeing you. It was almost as if you two never existed. You let out a chuckle as you allow just one tear to escape. You gave yourself just one tear, before you inhale deeply for what felt like the first time in years. You then continue to walk, away from Damian, and away from your past. Who knows? Maybe you two will reunite in the future. Or maybe you two will forever continue walking past each other like you two were always strangers.
#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne x gn!reader#damian wayne x gender neutral reader#damian wayne angst#damian wayne x you#dc comics
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𝒌𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒂'𝒔 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒔
this list contains writing prompts for fluff, nsfw, and angst. i welcome anyone else who wants to use it to please do!
fluff
"your hair is so soft.."
"it's too cold! come back."
"No. i'm not letting you go. It's too early to get out of bed."
"I'm not going to stop poking you till you give me some attention."
"I like the way your hand fits in mine."
"You can call me whenever you want... even if you don't have a reason too."
"You look really cute in that sweater."
"No, like... it's just, i can't believe you're actually wearing my clothes."
"I've been trying to get ready for like an hour and a half, because i know you're going to look so good and i need to try and match up."
"Your lips are really warm."
"Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."
"You are my new pillow."
"Don't get up– i'll do it."
"Stargazing was a good idea."
"I'll always be here for you."
"I'll be here to protect you."
"Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you."
"Your bed head is really cute."
"let's go home. You're freezing and I don't want you catching a cold."
"I'm not going to get sick, you baby. Just let me hold you."
"I'm not moving, your lap is comfortable."
"I know your mad at me, but will a kiss change your mind?"
"God, I miss you so much."
"Hey, let me in. I'm outside with your favorite pizza."
"I'm only doing it because you're cute."
"I'm tired, just cuddle me."
"Sorry for waking you, baby. Go back to sleep."
"Time for bed, sleepy head. Come on, I've got you."
angst
"Please look at me."
"I'm just disappointed."
"You... you never had a problem with it before."
"You're making me think that what they told me about you was right."
"Does it ever stop hurting?"
"No, you just make room for it."
"I'm trying, all the time, but it's just too hard."
"I let you down."
"I tried to move on, but nobody is you."
"Do i look like I moved on?"
"I feel like everyone just forgot I exist."
"You're really drunk right now. I don't think you're gonna remember any of this."
"No. I'm not drunk at all. You're just blurry"
"Did it ever occur to you that you're hurting me too."
"I just want to forget you."
"How much do you miss them?"
"More than I should."
"I'd rather stay in my own head so I don't have to live in the world you ruined."
"It wasn't your fault."
"Don't leave."
"Don't do this to yourself."
"Stop pushing everyone away."
"I need help."
"I'm so, so sorry."
"I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter, the it wouldn't."
"I broke my rules for you."
"Don't make promises you can't keep."
"Damn it, are you drunk?"
"I just need time to myself."
"Let me help."
"You haven't been yourself lately."
nsfw
"I know a workout you might enjoy."
"I want it hard."
"I just want to feel something."
"I swear. I'm gonna fuck the next person that comes through that door."
"I'm either joining or watching, you pick."
"I love it when you act all controlling like that knowing damn well I can leave you shaking under me."
"You're mine."
"I'll let you do anything if you just touch me right now."
"Stay quiet."
"If you can't sleep... how about we have sex?"
"Let me show you why you should stay in bed."
"If you want to keep sitting on my lap, you have to stop wiggling."
"We're really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?"
"Be a good girl/boy for mommy/daddy."
"If I have to stop what I'm doing then you're not gonna be able to walk for the next week."
"There's people here!"
"I know"
"You're still horny? Didn't I fuck you hard enough last night?"
"Spank me. It's the only way I'll learn."
"I'd hold onto something if I were you."
"You can get louder, can't you?"
"I'm really in the mood to tease you today."
"Bite me."
"If you insist."
"Just let me finish this/this level and I swear I'll go down on you till you come at least three times."
"I'm going to put some clothes on before you say anything else."
"Were you masturbating?"
"U-uh no... I was just.."
"Want some help?"
"I won't apologize for marking you up. Everyone should know you're taken."
"You look so good with my hand around your neck."
"If you complain that it's hot one more time, I'm going to give you a reason to sweat."
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https://www.tumblr.com/facesblurry/749217969128734720/nobody-gaf-but-i-might-write-a-little-angst-fedri
nah, with all due respect, ferran’s a bum. i like him as a person and i appreciate his relationship with pedri, but there’s no way he should be playing for barça. he makes for an alright sub, the problem with that is he was bought for €55M and there was never a time before or after that he was ever worth that money. not to mention that according to capology.com he has gross base salary of €10M, which means he earns around €192,308 per week, not including bonuses. to put that into perspective, he has a high gross base salary and earns more per week than both pedri and gavi who are both far more important players to barça than ferran will ever be. he’s such an incredibly mid player to be taking up that much space in barça’s salary cap. and don’t even get me started on that whole “shark” gimmick, he did well in the beginning of the season but he’s totally stagnated since. not to mention he has no ambition, he doesn’t want to leave barça to go to a club where he’d actually be a starter and is more than happy to remain a bench player. i don’t know, i genuinely don’t know how he’s fooled people into thinking he’s a different player than the one he was last season. i don’t hate him despite my long-winded rant saying otherwise, i don’t dislike him as a person but i certainly dislike him as a player.
I totally get some of your opinions, believe me. I too think he is pretty mid as a player, however i disagree to some points, like the opinion that he has no ambition. One never knows how much work a player may or may not put into training to become a better player. So, on that front, neither you or i can argue, although i’d say that, from an outsider perspective, he has been trying to get better, even more physically. That can be proven by his own team ferran updates. To what extent? i don’t know.
The salary discussion is something that everyone and their mommas have talked about many, many times. When he joined, i also thought the money could’ve been spent differently, and would’ve been happy to sign if it was for much less, although we are in a really bad economical stance to flunk on signings and need to actually sign close to elite players.
BUT we also this thing at barca in which people expect every damn forward to score 50 goals in one go, and if a player does not deliver that, they are criticized. Have we forgotten them games we won because of ferran? especially bc lewa was not there. And when lewa returned, he was absolutely ass, and xavi would not sub him FOR SHIT. we forget a lot of things a player may have delivered to us because they cannot deliver on a constant basis (especially when they have almost no minutes) and i believe that that is so ungrateful, and a characteristic barca fans have to the core.
Ferran has definitely done some good to the team but the thing is he has not added a lot as people might expect, again, especially due do our economical status. He has improved though, from the past, and i believe he can improve more but he is not getting any fucking minutes right now, especially since xavi sucks lewan’s cock up and down every damn game. Not even vitor roque is given minutes ffs. How do we expect him to deliver?
Anyways. we can let ferran go, whatever, let’s overly expect from another player who comes in. The thing is, who is coming? huh? who tf is coming to replace ferran for a cheap fee? fucking bernardo silva and his goddamn 50M? in this economy?
sighs. yall can hate on ferran as a player as much as yall would like because he has been put on high as fuck expectations, but don’t speak on his motivation, especially after literally reading he was mad he did not get to (1) play more minutes and (2) kick that free kick. I think that’s enough to know he cares about a spot on the team.
now, if a really good offer comes and we find a way better player that is NOT OVERHYPED or OVERRATED, then so be it! i will gladly take them because the betterment of my team is what i seek right now
love and peace tho!
#kai! asks#ferran torres#ferran#transfers#fc barcelona#mini rant#nobody reading all dat#i still had to speak my mind#im going to still write that little one shot IDGAF
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an angst imagine with briss where HE is the one getting hurt by a girl he thought was his forever
to make it even sadder, this one's slightly inspired in liability by lorde :)
this became too personal, i'm sorry i'm just projecting
love's a weird thing, brendan thought to himself. you can love your family, friends, things or whatever and, albeit they're the same thing, they're always different types of love. it was a thing capable to make people insanely happy or sad, cause wars and inspire writers, artists and many other people.
some people just want to be loved by others, especially romantically, so they spend their whole lives chasing it but that's not how it happens. in brendan's case, he thought he had found his forever, the person that would love him the way he deserved, but the boy couldn't be more wrong.
when he first met her, he felt a deep connection, as if he already met her. the conversation was easy, they had a lot of things in common and the chemistry was perfect. one thing led to another and soon they were dating.
and that's when the problem begins, at least to her, because brendan thought everything was fine. he was, in fact, a needy person. that was a thing he could only share with a few people, having to disguise it under the cool side personality and everything, when in reality, deep down, he was just a person desperately needing love and affection. of course he had that with his family, but, somehow, it wasn't enough for him.
with her, he felt safe enough to show this side and he truly thought it was ok, he felt seen and cared for, but never loved, though. everything went south when she stopped answering his texts after a few months of relationship. she always came with different excuses and brendan believed every one of them.
then, she always seemed busy with something so they stopped hanging out almost completely, while the texts became more sparse. at that point, brendan started to feel the numbing fear growing inside him. the familiar fear that preceeded rejection and abandonment. insecurities took him and, during the last days, he used to cry alone in the dead of the night, thinking about how he was just a liability and not enough to anyone. not to his family, not to his friends, and especially not to his partners.
finally, he reunited enough courage to confront her. he asked her out and they went to some cozy cafeteria in the campus. there, brendan started asking if something was wrong, receiving a negative response, "no, everything is fine," she had said.
but then, at some point, she gave up on trying to being nice.
"you really wanna know what's wrong, brendan?" the boy just nodded. "you're so damn needy all the time, you need affection, then you need love, you need attention like a fucking pet. you know, when i first heard about you, i thought you were some cool dude that was really cool and nice, but turns out you're a little much for me. at first it was cool and everything because you didn't show this side of yours but i can't stand it, i only kept it going because i like what you give me. but i really can't and that's why i think we should break up."
brendan could only nod, too flabbergasted to speak as she left. when her words started to sink in, he felt terrible, like someone was repeatedly stabbing him in the heart. that was the reason he didn't allow people to see that side of him but he knew the risks and took them anyway. in his melancholic walk home, he could only think "yeah, maybe i'm a little much for everyone."
that day, he cried and cried for hours and no one was able to help him or make him stop crying, the pain too recent, the wound too open. that was also the day he fully stopped believing that, eventually, he would find someone who would love him as much as he loves them. that would understand his side and reassure him, not hurt. that day, he decided no one would ever hurt him again because he wouldn't be open to the world anymore.
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Time and Space
In some other place
In some other time
There is a me
That knew you
When you still remembered
How to be kind
In some other world
In some other era
There was a me
That never knew you
When you only remembered
How to be cruel
In some other dimension
In some other epoch
There will be a me
That forgives you
When you finally remember
How to be gentle
One of the most difficult things to endure in mental illness is the role our relationships with others play in how, when, and why it expresses itself the way it does. These are the people who should be the support we fall back on when we can’t do it on our own; and oftentimes, they step up to be that helping hand. Sometimes, however, they don’t. Sometimes their lack of understanding, their panic, their own extremes of emotion, simply cause more pain. Sometimes they may even be the source of the pain in the first place. That latter group is what this poem is about.
I’ve written before about boundaries and why setting them in a measured, healthy way has been important in my recovery. Today I’m going to talk about how I knew what boundaries to set and why.
I’m going to come out and say it: I had some relationships in my life that were toxic up to and including being abusive towards me. Emotional and verbal, primarily. Note that I did not say the people involved in them were abusers. It’s a distinction I’ve learned to make—abusers exist, but not everyone who behaves in a toxic or abusive manner is, themselves, an abuser.
It’s taken a very long time for me to be able to make that distinction. This is a poem I wrote within the last six months; I turn thirty this year and I’ve spent most of my life believing myself a victim…which in some instances was true, but it wasn’t helping me to think about it that way.
So here’s the distinction, so maybe you can learn it earlier than I did: people do things out of their own fears, angst, and feelings of helplessness, and we often see others as the source of those feelings and the sometimes cruel things we do when overwhelmed by them, when ultimately it’s our own responsibility how we act. Anyone can behave toxically towards anyone else; frequently we do. Sometimes it’s just us lashing out on rare occasions, sometimes it’s a pattern, sometimes it’s an attempt to undermine or control others so we can feel better about ourselves, causing them harm in the process—that last one is what we call abuse.
That’s the behavior. It’s a pattern, and a lot of the time the person who’s doing it either doesn’t realize it’s abusive or knows it’s wrong but doesn’t know how to stop. In those cases, it’s the behavior that’s the problem, not the person. That’s a pattern that can be broken, if the person is willing to put in the time and effort to make the change and you are willing to point it out to them when they don’t see it themselves—in a calm, rational, gentle manner, which is the hard part when it hurts that damn much.
When they do know it’s wrong, and actively continue it, maybe try to convince you that’s not what it really is and you’re overreacting every single time…that’s when it goes beyond behavior and into some major warning signs. That’s when you get the hell out.
So in my case, I had a number of people in my life who behaved toxically or abusively but didn’t recognize the behavior for what it was. Fair enough, it can be hard to identify. As I’ve mentioned before, cutting everyone who ever behaved that way out of my life entirely would have left me very, very alone. I had to set boundaries for what I was willing to give, but also what I was willing to accept.
I can accept an occasional snappish comment when someone is stressed. It doesn’t bother me because I know it isn’t about me.
I can accept someone dropping off my radar for a bit and then coming back. That’s really just about them needing time and space to deal with what’s in their own heads; believe me, I’ve done the same.
I can accept disagreement on matters both large and small. I don’t expect everyone to have the same opinions and beliefs as I do, that’d be unrealistic. I simply say, “I see we don’t agree about this, and that’s fine. Let’s talk about something we both enjoy,” and move on.
I can accept comments made out of ignorance. I know that I have information about the situation they do not—often they don’t have it because I haven’t told them. Probably because they’ve made similar comments before and previous attempts just resulted in disagreement. So I let myself think only of what I know to be true and let the rest slide away. I choose what to trust people with, and what I will not trust them with.
What I can’t accept is when personal information or old wounds are used to hurt me or someone else, deliberately. That is the line I draw. That is when I say: “That was out of line. I think we need to give each other space and then try to reconnect when we’re all calmer.” If it’s part of a pattern, that is when I remind someone of why that particular thing they said or did is hurtful and ask them to think about what they want out of a relationship with me, because harming each other is not something I’m willing to preserve in a relationship. In the most extreme cases of it continuing despite that question, that is when I would cut someone out of my life.
It is hard. It is so freaking hard.
But I don’t want to live my life fearing the people around me. So I do what I have to, to make a life without that fear possible.
This poem is a reflection of the evolution of thought that led me to this approach. It is born from my yearning for a time when a particularly painful family relationship wasn’t complicated by the other person’s fear, helplessness, and misery being expressed in harmful ways. It is also, at the end, something I’m beginning to see in my current life: a chance for a better relationship, no dimensional travel required.
I hope talking about this with y’all has given you a bit of perspective on what boundaries you might set. As always, thanks for reading. Take care, listen well, and share your stories.
—Blythe
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dead on my feete
#not literally i am lying down right now. but also#can you believe how some people make their personal angst Everyone's Damn Problem#why. just keep that stuff where it belongs (inside) (and then you die)#me on days when i actually get to do mostly only technical stuff at work: :)#me on days that doesn't happen which is unfortunately quite a lot of them: >:[#neutral face of disappointment.png#i am an ENGINEER. i do not PEOPLE#ok annoyance over looking for cat photos now#ramble tag#vent#mildly
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Heyy i would like to request #23 from your list! Also can you make it reallllly angsty but with fluffy happy ending ? Thank youu!
𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝 𝕀𝕟𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕖 (ℍ𝕪𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕖)
♩ gn!reader, angst then fluff, hurt and comfort, self-doubt, a lot of babbling, mentions of alcohol consumption, crying, a lot of crying
♩♩ word count: 4.1k (ik ik, that's why this took me so damn long)
♩♩♩ A/N: anon wanted angst with fluff ending so there's plot which means it's longer which also means i'm splitting into hyung and maknae (hanie and felix ) line againnn ┗( ▔, ▔ )┛ wip list here
hannie and felix here
go show the reason i stay some love plz i'm very proud of it
Chan
Bang Chan was the leader of Stray Kids, the all-rounded leader.
He could sing, dance, rap, write lyrics, produce songs, play sports, the whole package, it was widely believed that he could do anything.
The number of people who wanted to be his lover was countless, and the line could probably drive from Seoul all the way to Sydney.
But the one he fell in love with was you, you who didn't care about those things at all.
You just saw him as an ordinary person, like anyone else.
To be honest, that was probably the part of you that attracted him.
But also because of this, all his achievements, all his status were as if they did not exist.
In your eyes, he was just Bang Christopher Chan.
(continue under the cut)
He thought that all you wanted was a normal relationship.
A normal relationship, like everyone else's.
That was what he assumed he couldn't give you.
He couldn't see you every day, he couldn't go out with you freely, he couldn't go to a restaurant and have a meal like a normal couple.
His love for you was getting deeper and deeper, but he felt further and further away from you at the same time.
Why haven't you left him yet? Why were you willing to stay by his side when you didn't care about his reputation or achievements?
Why did you never complain to him about anything? He obviously never gave you the life you wanted...
That night, he drank a lot. He thought and thought but could not come up with an answer that would satisfy him.
He couldn't get an answer, even when Minho sent him home.
Minho handed Chan over to you with a serious look and told you to talk to Chan properly.
"Hurry up and sort out your problems with each other on your own, I don't want to hear him cry every day."
Did something happen between you guys? You didn't even know.
Chan has been crying for the past few days? This was also something you didn't know.
With a serious nod, you take your boyfriend from Minho's hands.
He clings to you like you're the last piece of driftwood, muttering something you can't understand.
He reeks of alcohol, which is not a common occurrence; he doesn't usually allow himself to get this drunk.
Sure enough, something must have happened.
After sending Minho away, you help Chan to the bed and lay him down.
After helping him take off his jacket and shoes, you prepare to go to the kitchen to make him a bowl of sobriety soup.
But he suddenly sits up and pulls you into his arms.
Losing your balance, you fell on the bed and looked at him with a slightly shocked look.
"Chris? What's wrong?"
He held you, his chin resting on your shoulder, you suddenly felt something liquid slide down your collarbone.
He was crying again, like Minho said.
"If I'm...if I did something wrong, or...haven't been doing enough......you have to, tell me ......"
He spoke so disconnectedly that you almost didn't understand what he was saying.
Although even after you did understand, you could not quite comprehend his words.
What did he do wrong? What didn't he do right?
What nonsense is he talking about?
"What do you mean ......?"
"Don't act like nothing's wrong! I know...I know I'm not good enough! I know you must not be happy at all! With me, you must be...you must not be happy at all with me, right?"
"I can't give you anything, it's like everything I have you don't need! I... I don't know how I can...what I can do to make you happy......"
"You must be looking for a reason to break up with me, right? I know...I know you must have been holding back, you-"
"Bang Christopher Chan are you crazy?!"
Breaking away from his embrace, you looked angrily into his eyes.
He seems startled by your sudden movement and shrinks back like a scared puppy.
Seeing him like this, you couldn't help but feel your heart sting.
You reached out and took his trembling hand in yours, then leaned forward a bit.
"Channie...why do you think that? Why do you think... I'm not happy with you?"
Because that could not be any further from the truth.
"You never talk to me about... anything bad ......there's never any complaints from you."
"Just because of that? Just because I have no complaints about you, you think I'm unhappy? I don't understand your logic very well..."
"Aren't you hiding it?" He looks at you defiantly, the drunkenness in his eyes having long since disappeared without a trace.
"Of course not! I'm not complaining because I really don't have any complaints about you, because you're perfect."
You continue to lean forward and kiss his puffed eyes.
"People can't be perfect..."
"But you are perfect for me."
"Maybe not in every way...of course I wish you had a little more time for me...but you're perfect enough."
"So...you don't want to break up with me?"
"Not in this lifetime. Channie, I was worried that you might dump me for being too bland. How come you're starting to doubt yourself when I haven't even said anything?"
"You're not bland at all! How could I possibly dump you! Not in this lifetime! You-you're Y/N Y/L/N!"
You laugh and stroke his head, your eyes full of love.
"Look, you understand perfectly fine. The feeling is mutual Channie, what would you do if it was me crying and saying things like that to you like you're doing now?"
Chan looked down and thought a little, then twisted his head a little shy.
"I'm an idiot......"
"That's right, you're an idiot. My idiot. So now, does my dummy Channie want to go take a shower?"
"Can you come with me......?"
You sigh and shake your head with a smile.
"Yes I can, but there's a catch." You held out your own pinky finger, curved into the shape of a hook. "Promise me you'll never say anything like that again, okay?"
"Okay."
He obediently stretched out his own pinky finger as well and hooked it with yours.
You looked down and kissed his knuckles to seal the deal.
"I love you so much..."
He whispered.
Minho
When you got home and found him not lying on the couch or in the kitchen cooking you realized something was wrong.
Pushing open the bedroom door, you quietly peeked in and looked inside.
The lights are off and the curtains are drawn, but you can see just by the light outside the door.
Your boyfriend is curled up in bed.
"Minho, are you not feeling well? Why are you in bed so early?"
It's not in line with his habits; normally at such times he would be nestled on the couch watching anime or in the kitchen preparing dinner.
He stirred slightly at the sound of your voice, but didn't answer.
Feeling weirder and weirder, you walked into the room and squatted down by the bed.
He wasn't facing you, but being so close, you could hear his unsteady breathing.
It seems to be... It seemed like he was crying.
You've hardly ever seen Minho cry, and the last time was during the survival show.
And that was a few years ago.
So now you're worried to see him like this all of a sudden.
"Baby? Please talk to me...you're scaring me......"
You shook his shoulder, hoping to get a response this time.
But he did nothing but sniffle and let out a slow, shaky breath.
You stood up and climbed onto the bed, laying down and hugging him from behind.
Although he didn't seem to want to talk to you very much, at least he wasn't resisting your physical contact.
Maybe he just wasn't ready yet? That's all you could assume now.
With you by his side, his breathing slowly calms down.
Some time passed with the two of you staying in the same position, just when you thought this was going to be it tonight, he turned around, grabbed your collar, and buried his head in your chest.
You followed his movements and gently cradled his head, pushing your fingers into his hair.
"Did I not do it well enough......?"
After a long time, just when you thought he was about to fall asleep in your arms like this, he spoke coldly.
"Who said that?"
You asked, holding back the anger in your heart.
If someone had really said something like that to him, you would have rushed up and beat them up.
Your Minho has gone through too much to get to where he is today, and you will never allow him to question himself because of someone else's trivial words.
"No one did."
Yet he says no one did.
"Then why do you think so?"
No one said that, which means it's his own problem. He himself thinks he's not doing enough.
In that case, the problem is more serious than if it was someone else who said.
"If I'm doing well enough...why in our new song, I ......forget it, it sounds really stupid doesn't it ......"
While he said this, you felt the fabric on your chest get wet again.
You sat up with a tight frown, taking him with you.
"Minho...how is this stupid? Nothing about you is stupid."
"But I feel so selfish Y/N...the other members have more time to show themselves, which is obviously a good thing ......"
He lets go of your shirt and sits helplessly on the bed.
"But why, do I still hurt so much? Am I a bad person? Me crying like a worthless child because of something like this... Isn't it humiliating to you?"
You heartbreakingly reach out and cup his face, making him look you in the eyes.
He's still intentionally avoiding eye contact, but you won't let him off the hook so easily.
He was so wrong about this, and you won't let him continue to think that way.
"Lee Minho you look at me."
There was a seriousness in your tone that he hadn't heard before.
"You're not selfish at all, you're not a bad person, you're not a worthless child, and you do not make me feel ashamed, ever. It's only natural that you want to show more of yourself to your fans. It's only right that you feel lost because you didn't get what you deserve. All eight of you are equal, no one is a step above anyone else, and you shouldn't get less than anyone else. This kind of thing is not something unimportant, it's something crucial, so don't feel ashamed of yourself."
"Do you hear me?"
He nodded, the fog in his eyes fading quite a bit.
"I suddenly feel like a fool when you put it like that."
He narrowed his eyes and smiled, seemingly returning to his normal self.
"Because you are a fool! Stupid Lee Know!"
Seeing that he has gotten better, you let go of his face and tapped on his slightly red nose.
"You say that again and you won't get dinner tonight."
He has the mood to threaten you? Yeah, he's getting better.
"Fine fine, my Lee chef, hurry up and go make dinner, I'm starving after lying here with you for almost an hour."
He rolled his eyes and wiped the tears that were still at the corners of his eyes.
"Isn't it your responsibility to comfort your sad miserable boyfriend? Just one hour of hugging and you resent me huh...seems to me your asking me to put you in the air fryer."
"Then you'll lose a supportive, loving Y/N. Do you want me to become your dinner?"
Yeah, you realized right after you finished, that that sentence was kinda weird.
But it was too late.
Minho raises one eyebrow.
"I wouldn't mind eating you for dinner tonight."
Yeah, he was completely fine now.
Changbin
Changbin was generally not a person who feels insecure, basically nothing could really make him feel "insecure".
But there are exceptions to everything, and Changbin's exception is you.
When it came to you, he couldn't seem to get his confidence up.
Before he got involved with you, he never felt he was such a possessive person.
But now he wanted to keep you tied to him so that you didn't attract any "butterflies", even if you don't intend to.
He's afraid to take you to the practice room for fear that you will fall in love after seeing Hyunjin or Minho.
He's afraid to take you to the recording studio for fear that you will think Jisung's rap is better than his.
Do you think Felix is better looking than him? Do you think Jeongin is cuter than him?
Do you think Chan is more mature than him? Do you think Seungmin is more suitable for a boyfriend?
He really loves his members, but sometimes he hates how all of them were so talented.
After MAMA, Changbin along with the other members went back to the standby room.
You who were watching the replay.
You seemed to sense your boyfriend's presence and looked up at him.
"Binnie! You did a great job! I'm so proud of you!"
You stick out your thumb, the corners of your mouth list a smile, your eyes narrowed together.
But he just comes and sits down next to you, not saying a word.
After seeing that he wasn't jumping around happily boasting about how great he was as usual, the proudness in your eyes faded slightly and you looked at him with a more serious expression of worry.
"Binnie, what's wrong?"
"Did you see it all? The whole stage?" He asked in a cold voice.
"Of course, I am a competent lover, of course I have to support my boyfriend's group! Just ask the staff, I was screaming for all of-"
"Then you saw Hyunjin's dance part too, right? Was it good? Isn't he gorgeous?"
You frown, wondering why he would suddenly bring up Hyunjin's business.
"I saw it...but Hyunjin is not as gorgeous as you are, Binnie-"
"No need to say such lies, I know everything."
He stood up and walked away without waiting for you to finish, leaving you sitting in the same place a bit confused.
That's when you realize that Hyunjin has been standing there all this time.
"I'm sorry Jinnie, I don't know what's wrong with Changbin today... You did a great job too! The opening dance was awesome! You all did a great job ...... Congratulate Chan for me and... I've got to go find Changbin now."
Hyunjin stands aside and nods, giving you a little smile.
You grab your jacket and run out in a hurry.
Paju is farther north than Seoul, and the nights are cooler.
Changbin just running out like this without a jacket on was definitely not a good idea, what if he catches a cold?
You looked around for your boyfriend.
"Changbin! Changbin hiding! Come out! It's too cold outside! We can talk about this when we get home!"
What the hell is wrong with him today? He's never been like this, he's always been mature in your relationship... How did it come down to this?
After searching around for a few minutes, you finally find your boyfriend with frozen red ears by a flight of steps.
"Binnie! Put the jacket on..."
You rushed over and threw the jacket in your hand on him, holding his face in worry.
That's when you realize he seems to be crying.
"Baby?"
You wipe away his tears, but he knocks your hand away.
"Leave me alone..."
"I'm your lover, I'm the last person that's gonna leave you alone. Changbin you're acting really weird today...you don't act like this normally-"
"Have you ever thought that... I'm faking it?"
That made your heart stop.
"What?"
"Can you just...look at me? Don't look at anyone else, just at me?"
You pursed your lips as you finally began to understand what was going on.
"Binnie, let's talk inside."
Walking from the freezing outside to the inside, your body felt much warmer, but your heart didn't.
You were now faced with perhaps the biggest problem you've had since you started dating.
You press Changbin into a chair and kneel down in front of him.
"You don't want me to look at anyone else because you're afraid I'll fall in love with them?"
He didn't expect you to be so direct, but after thinking about it he decided not to beat around the bush with you and nodded his head.
"They're all better than me..."
"They? Who is "they"? If you're referring to the members, then you're very wrong."
"But-"
"No "buts" Seo Changbin, you listen to me."
"There are seven billion people in the world, but I chose you. Don't you think there's a reason for that? So many people, like you said, everyone from Stray Kids. Whether it's Chan, Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin or Jeongin, none of them is a millionth of you in my heart. The one I chose is you, the one I adore is you, you are the best in my heart, can you understand what I am saying? What they do, whether it's singing, dancing, rapping, or writing songs, is nothing compared to you. You're the only one who can make my heart sing, you're the one I love."
You stand up, then bend down and rest your forehead against his, feeling his warmth.
"I didn't think I would need to say this to you, but it's nice to say it. It would be nice if you would never feel insecure, or uneasy, about it again. At least when it comes to this."
You hear him sniffle and chuckle slightly.
"Well, our big baby, your members are still waiting for you in the waiting room, don't you want to go home early?"
He nodded.
"When we get home, we can cuddle under a warm blanket, we can put on some of your favorite music, and I can give you a little massage or we can take a bath together. How does that sound?"
"Y/N...I'm sorry ......"
He said quietly.
"There's nothing to be sorry about, I'm the one who has to say sorry for not noticing your feelings sooner."
He thought he couldn't love you any more, but as it turns out, he was wrong.
Hyunjin
Hyunjin has an angelic face, which was something everyone knew.
But for Hyunjin, it was a big concern.
It has been bothering him since pre-debut times.
There were always trainees who would say to him, "You can debut even if you can't do anything because you are good-looking."
What he wanted people to see was his hard work, his skills, not just his face.
Of course, having a pretty face had its advantages, but at the same time, it was a big blow to his self-esteem.
Especially... After dating you.
He couldn't help but wonder what the reason was that you were with him.
Was it because of his face? Was it because he's good-looking?
Was it just because of that?
You always said he was good-looking when you complimented him, although it was indeed a compliment, but was that the only thing you valued?
These questions plagued him constantly, on and on and on.
Like drops of water slowly dripping into a bottle, slowly rising and reaching the mouth of the bottle, on the verge of overflowing.
All these accumulated negative emotions burst out one night.
That night, you two were just lying on the couch and watching TV together as usual.
The stage they had pre-recorded a few days before was going to be aired on TV and you were very excited.
When Hyunjin's part came on and he walked out from the back, you screamed and shook him beside you, shouting, "Hwang Hyunjin, you are so stunning! How can someone be this handsome?!"
Obviously it was just a simple compliment, but he suddenly seemed like he was viciously offended, and all of a sudden he stood up and looked at you with teary eyes.
You thought you accidentally hit him or something, you were just about to apologize when you saw the look on his face.
Then your heart dropped.
This is not the "accidentally hit him" when the eyes will show.
This was... This was the expression he would show only when he is truly sad and extremely hurt.
The last time you saw this look on his face was when he found out he couldn't continue to participate in Kingdom with the Stray Kids.
He looks at you for a moment, biting his lower lip and seemingly holding back tears.
You tried to reach out and take his hand, but he turned around and sprinted toward your shared bedroom.
You ran after him, but he closed and locked the bedroom door before you could get in.
"Hyunjin! Don't do this baby... What's wrong? Don't lock the door... Come out and talk to me, okay? At least let me know what's going on ......"
There was nothing but his crying voices inside.
You kept knocking on the door, trying to get him to come out, just for a little while or so, you just wanted to know what just happened.
He was sitting right behind the door, in a sitting position with his back against the door, you kneeled down just enough to hear him clearly.
But ten minutes have passed, he still didn't respond to you, he just kept crying, crying his heart out, clutching his knees, curled up in the corner.
Just a few minutes ago he looked at you with that look, like you had done something horribly wrong.
With that huge reaction, you must have really done something to hurt him.
What could be the thing that made him so upset?
You carefully recalled your behavior just now, but just couldn't figure out what went wrong.
If you could think calmly, you could probably find the problem.
But listening to the person you love most cry like this, you simply couldn't focus on yourself.
You just wanted to do everything in your power to make him stop crying.
"Jinnie...please don't cry......I'm sorry for whatever I did, just please ...stop crying and talk to me?"
Your voice sounded a little breathless, but that was the line that got a little reaction out of him.
"Complement me..."
"What?" You were a little confused.
"Please...complete me." He sounded like he was going to break down again if you didn't start right away.
You speak up immediately.
"You dance well, you rap, your singing keeps getting better. You are gentle, kind, generous, you love animals, you are thoughtful, and always put others ahead of you. You are considerate, very good at drawing, and get really good at things you focus on. You are dedicated, you don't cheat, don't lie, you're honest, and you are the best boyfriend in the world."
You said all that in one breath.
Then you heard the person on the other side, your Hyunjin, exhale a shaky breath.
"Why, are you dating me?"
You frowned at the question.
"Because you are Hwang Hyunjin? Because no one else can make me feel this way? Because no one else can make me feel like the sky is falling just because they're crying? Because you love me, and I love you? Hyunjin...what's been on your mind recently? Why are you asking me this? Do you think I don't love you anymore?"
"No... It's not like that ...... I just......omg this sounds so dumb now...I, I just ......"
"Baby, can you open the door? I want to hug you."
You interrupt him before he could continue talking.
This time he obeyed and opened the door.
After seeing his red eyes and equally red nose, you immediately wrapped him in your arms.
He melted away just as you wrapped your arms around him, putting his entire weight on you and relaxing completely.
"I... I thought that you only wanted me because I .......my face. I don't know why I thought that! I really don't know... I shouldn't have doubted you...you're the last person I should have doubted. I'm sorry... I'm such an idiot......"
He was about to cry again, so you hastily tightened your arms around him a little more.
The last thing you wanted to hear right now was him crying.
"Don't say that, you didn't do anything wrong to me, you don't need to apologize to me. Not being fully trusted by you must be my problem... But now you know, that you're so much more than just your face, right?"
His head, buried in your chest, nodded slightly, then lifted to look at you.
"You'd love me even if I was ugly, wouldn't you?"
"You could be a nobody living in a cardboard box, and I'd still love you." (that's a quote from The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo)
"I love you, I love you so much."
You could have sworn that you saw stars in his eyes.
#stray kids#skz#skz imagines#stray kids imagines#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz reactions#stray kids reactions#skz headcanons#stray kids headcanons#skz scenarios#stray kids scenarios#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan imagines#bang chan x reader#bang chan fluff#lee know imagines#lee know x reader#lee know fluff#changbin imagines#changbin x reader#changbin fluff#hyunjin imagines#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#bang chan angst#lee know angst#changbin angst#hyunjin angst
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The Avengers
Platonic Natasha Romanoff x teen!reader
TW: ANGST, abuse, S. abuse, hurt/comfort, don't read if it triggers you!
Summary: You're an exchange student, working at the Avengers compound. You have a nightmare and an unlikely person comes to your aid.
NOT YOUR FAULT
You've been working as a science exchange student at the Avengers compound for about 5 months now. You mostly talked to Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, and Bruce who teaches you science. You two became so close he was practically like an uncle to you. You got along with everyone as you have a kind personality and people loved your calming presence but you never got close to the redhead of the team. Natasha Romanoff. You were slightly intimidated by her and she was intimidated by you and your kindness. She always thought she was like a rose with thorns and everyone who got close to her were accidentaly stabbed by her strong character, and you were a daisy, gentle and fragile.
It was January when you came back to the compound after a long holiday you spent at home. Peter Parker greeted you joyfuly alas you ignored him and headed straight for your room which used to be the guest room. You were so damn tired from your family and you didn't know how to trust an adult about your family problems that drained your energy, causing you to be depressed. You lied down on the bed after you closed the blinds and simply stared at the wallpaper. How ironic it would be if it was yellow. You heard a knock on the door. »Y/N, are you alright?« Bruce was worried. »Just tired from the plane ride, thank you.« You lied. »Can you tell Peter I apologize because of the way I acted?« You added. »Sure thing. Get some rest.« you heard him reply. Tears fell down your cheeks. Your heart ached for comfort but you were so afraid and ashamed so you cried and cried, and eventually you fell asleep.
Natasha Romanoff was never really a good sleeper, demons haunted her the most at night so she prefered being awake, her mind occupied with television. The woman was pouring herself a glass of water when she heard screams, your screams to be exact. She ran down the hallway and turned on the lamp when she entered your room. You were facing away from her, still crying in your sleep. »Wake up, baby« the redhead whispered, gently holding your forehead. »Don't touch me.« you jolted awake and after noticing it was only Natasha calmed down a bit. The calmness didn't last long though as you remembered your nightmares and the cause of it. The women sat by your side watching you and your bruised eye. »Can you tell me what happened, Y/N?« her hand caressed your hair. You hugged you knees and closed your eyes. Would she believe you? Could she help you? You didn't want to be a burden yet at the same time you wanted to get it out of your chest once and for all, after all she already saw the bruise and you were never really a good liar. You opened your mouth but nothing came out. You tried, you really tried. »Your parents?« Natasha simply asked when she saw you struggling. You nodded. »My mom. And dad… he get's drunk sometimes and acts different. Disgusting. It makes me sick to my stomach« you blinked. »Has he ever touched you, Y/N?« »Yeah« you blinked again, not daring to look the older woman in the eyes. »H- has he ever done anything worse?« You knew what she hinted at and you could only let out a sob. Natasha immediately wrapped her arms around you. »It's not your fault« she rocked you. »Let it all out, Y/N, let it all out« You continued crying as she gently held your head against her chest.
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Sorry for any grammar or/and spelling mistakes. Hope you like it! :)
#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x teen!reader#black widow#the avengers#mommy sorry mommy sorry mommy sorry#bruce banner#pepper potts#peter parker
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waves that hurt | k.bakugou + i.midoriya.
♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x gn!reader x izuku midoriya.
♡ word count: 3.04K
♡ rating: everyone.
♡ genre: pro hero!au, hurt, angst and comfort.
♡ summary: dark days mean dark waves that crash across your mind, intrusive and mean the waves pull you under— but they are the helping hands that pull you up and let you breathe.
♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy tw for depression, intrusive thoughts and self depreciation, self doubt and low self-worth. this fic is written mostly from personal experiences and may not be accurate to how everyone feels! mentions of therapy.
♡ author’s note(s): this is my contribution to @doinmybesthere ‘s mental health awareness collab, this is kinda personal to me and something i experienced recently!! i hope it can provide some comfort to anyone out there, please don’t forget to check out everyone else’s works and i hope you’re all safe ‘n well <3
♡ masterlist | requests | kofi
“kacchan, it’s much worse this time, i really think you should come home early tonight.”
deku whispers into the phone, his marred hands rub slow and soothing circles into your back from over the duvet— you can feel his warmth, light and airy through it but he feels and sounds much further away. a million miles across a dark ocean that trickles through your thoughts, intrusive and mean, keeping you under and away from clear air.
you wouldn’t want to pull him into this, bother him with the way you drown in dark thoughts— so you pull away from your boyfriend and tuck yourself away into the sheets.
izuku doesn’t retract his hand even as you pull away, listening to katsuki grunt orders down the phone— make sure yn’s eaten, make sure yn’s had water. basic things you should be able to do on your own but can’t, paralysed by the anxiety and depression that clamps down on you like a vice and refuses to let you up so you can just breathe. you want to breathe and not feel like the world is crashing down on you, to have a second to yourself where everything seems like it’s okay.
brushing fingers over the nape of your neck, toying with the coils of your baby hairs, your boyfriend speaks, only gently. “baby,” says quietly, his weight causing the bed to dip. “katsuki will be home soon, do you want to come with me to let him in?” you shrug, a sick feeling twisting in your gut. you see the black tendrils and waves in the back of your mind, bringing forth a new batch of ugly words that force you down. are you really that much of a burden these days that katsuki has to call it quits on work for you? “how are you feeling?”
you don’t know, you don’t know how to tell him that every thought you have hurts and there’s a pain in your chest with every breath you take. “i don’t know, it’s just...bad izu…” you want to explain how you feel deep inside, but the words are trapped like balls of tar in your throat— fear that if you say something he’ll walk away.
“you don’t have to say anything, don’t force yourself to…” he speaks with a soft voice, cotton to your ears in an attempt to soothe you. you can just about feel the clean air flowing through your lungs at the sound— it tells you he loves you, no matter what and you almost believe it before sinking back under. “let’s get you some water okay? wouldn’t want kacchan scolding us would we?”
the joke hangs in the murky and heavy air for a few seconds before you muster a small smile— your green haired boyfriend lets out a tiny sigh of relief and pressed a kiss into your hairline, the affection simmers under your skin and briefly brings light to your dark mind as izuku starts leading you to the kitchen.
you’re curled up in izuku’s lap when the front door pops open with a click— signifying your other boyfriend had arrived home. you flinch, hiding yourself in the blankets keeping you warm and locking away the dark thoughts from the eyes of your lovers.
part of you hated them seeing you this way, that’s why you forced yourself to keep everything away from them— but they knew, they always did and always came to your rescue. you didn’t want them to feel like they had to look after you when the days were bad and draining and your mind took hold of everything that you felt. you didn’t need the weight of your own problems on the shoulders of two pro heroes who had enough to deal with.
in the end, you would destroy them like you did with yourself.
you can hear katsuki shedding his gear by the door, feeling his intense and heated presence flood the room and barely penetrate the barrier you created for yourself even while you lay in izuku’s arms. for as long as you’d known the two— even from back in your U.A days, bakugou had hated self-pity, of course in recent years he’d cooled down a little and spoke less on the actions of others but even still, you weren’t sure if you could handle him looking down on you for looking down on yourself and for feeling this way.
the blanket is suddenly lifted from your head, momentarily blinding you with the overwhelming light that is your boyfriend, katsuki bakugou. a twinkle of concern lines his ruby eyes and you can see traces of his charcoal eyeliner that he usually smudges underneath his mask— he’s so beautiful but you’re afraid of the twitches of worry, afraid that he’s mad at you for being the way you are.
“hey honey,” bakugou hums, crouching to your level to cup your cheeks, stress bleeding from his body when you nuzzle into him.
izuku gives you a squeeze, an encouraging one and you nod. “hi,” is all you can muster, afraid of blurting the intrusive words that crackle across your brain.
katsuki sits back on his haunches, looking between you and his boyfriend before he attempts to kick off his shoes. the room is full of a thick, ugly quietness that you know you’re responsible for— they don’t have to say anything, you know that it’s you. because when you’re like this it’s hard for bakugou and midoriya to talk, afraid that they’ll say something to set you off and you afraid that they’ll leave if they knew how you really felt. how trapped and alone you felt inside, how the twisted darkness added tones to your vibes and dragged you down with every step that you took.
they don’t need to say it because it flows from your body like a rushing river and drowns them, fills their lungs and it’s your fault for infecting them with your own bitter taste of life.
“have you eaten?” the blonde of the two boys asks, looking you dead in the eye. you want to answer, but again the viscous back from earlier starts to flood through your body. you try to take care of yourself of these days where you feel it the hardest, but it’s difficult to move and to breathe— and the drive to complete even the simplest of tasks is barely ever there.
you move to speak, caught up in the thick smog of your own brain when izuku gives your body a squeeze and shakes his head, the forest of his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’ve had water, right?” izuku has no problem answering for you. “but nothing to eat,” he whispers, keeping his voice low as if to hide his worry from you— it’s light in his tone but tremors throughout the number one’s body. you feel sick for making him feel that way.
katsuki’s gaze shifts back from his boyfriend to you, his expression unreadable because he knows how you get if they worry too much about you. you’re thankful, partly for that at least, his blank face prevents your mind from reading too deep into things and blaming yourself for things out of your own control.
“‘m makin’ your favourite for dinner. you’ll eat it, no questions asked.” the explosive pro hero states firmly, rising from his place crouched down by your side, obviously not before thumbing over your cheeks to wipe away evidence of your dried tears. “gonna run you a bath too, damn nerd better get you upstairs and ready by the time it’s done.” deku’s chest rumbles with a light hearted chuckle beneath you, lifting the heavy weight of the air within the room— bakugou had always loved brashly, with a fiery intensity that hardly left room for the answer ‘no’, and while izuku was more tame, they balanced one another out in a way that felt more like a warm hug than a battle. they grounded you, in the best of ways.
true to his disgruntled words, your blonde headed boyfriend runs you a hot bath. you don’t miss the addition of lavender oil to the perfectly warm water, the baking soda which you’re sure he only knew to add because his mother had said it would remove the demon spawn toxins in his body. izuku is the one to help you strip, holds your hands as you kick off gross comfort clothes and folds them away, after pressing kisses to your groggy face and chin.
it’s almost funny to see the two biggest and beefiest pro heroes sit on your bathroom floor crossed legged and beside the tub— both of them taking up the majority of the room. you know for a fact that no one would believe the sight unless they saw it, but they’re there. both of them, izuku midoriya and bakugou katsuki are with you encompassed in the silence while you wash away the ugly words that plague your mind and fill the pores of your skin.
they’re still there.
even as sweet lavender water moves in soft waves over your bare body, while black ink moves in the same way across your brain— tattooing self-depreciating thoughts into every inch. you’re not worth their time, they say, you’re wasting it. because how could their precious time be put to good use if you’re taking it up, they could be saving people but instead your boyfriends are here, drowning in your own darkness.
they’re still fucking here.
when they could be out there saving the people who needed it, who were suffering out there in the world outside of your home.
and the suds against your body, the warm water sloshing over your thighs isn’t enough to get rid of the burning sensation of vile phrases printing themselves against your body and clouding every thought that you think. toxic, mean and nasty things you can’t scrub away— none of it is enough to make you feel like you deserve bakugou tenderly lathering you up with the rose scented soap his mother had sent you for christmas or the sips of cool water midoriya brings to your lips in order to prevent you from overheating in the steam of the bathroom.
deku catches the painful twist in your face, pausing his movements to study you. “whaddya need?” you need it to stop, to find something to replace the pain and doubts that fill you.
“water, hotter,” you croak quietly, tears building up in the base of your throat as katsuki catches on and flicks the tap for a stream of hot water to fill the tub. “please,”
they tell you to let them know when to stop if the heat gets too much, but the scalding water burns away any reminders of the self loathing you feel across every inch of your mind, your body and your soul. it stings at the darkness in a way that’s painfully soothing and maybe if you sink under— it could stop hurting completely. if you could slide deeper into the water, would the waves of darkness not crash so hard?
and then the damn breaks, like a tsunami the guilt and anguish you feel crashes over your body and takes control, leaving you fighting for oxygen in the form of your happiness.
everything that you’d been holding back flows freely in salty tears from tired eyes, scorching a path down the apples of your cheeks and mingling with the contents of the tub below. your boys, they don’t notice at first, how you cry and curl in on yourself until you think the world won’t notice you anymore but then just as they always do, they’re pulling you into their warmth and bubble of light— freeing you from black intrusive tendrils even if it means they have to crawl into the tub and wade their through the ocean you’ve made to set yourselves apart.
“don’t—!” you heave with an uneven voice, signs of you falling apart evident in every way. bakugou and deku pull away from you slowly, with dripping shirts and worry written across freckled faces and red eyes. they’re scared for you, hate seeing you force your feelings down and away from them. “please don’t touch me—you’ll—“
the water in the bathtub sloshes from where you retract from their touch, backing yourself up against the wall and away from your boys. “we’ll what?” izuku presses but only gently, keeping you afloat, stopping you from sinking and bakugou stays put in his place, letting the latter talk you down.
you shake your head, trying to think of the right words but it’s hard to, with the crashing waves heavy against your ears. how do you tell your lovers that everything hurts, to think and to feel, to live day by day. you don’t want to bother them with and an extra stress to their busy lives. but you can’t keep it in any longer, bursting at the seams. “you’ll drown. i-if i touch you, i’ll pull you under, you’ll drown with me and you won’t be able to breathe and all those horrible things that i think about will burn in your lungs until you give up fighting like me,” your tears and hiccups interrupt your words, but they listen. bakugou and deku, they listen and they stay.
“yn—“
“because if you do, then all that i feel will be a burden to you— i’ll break in ways that can’t be fixed and you’ll be forced to pick up the pieces and i’ll just be a burden,” you continue, not even pausing to take a breath while you continue to cry. “if you stay to pick up the pieces, you’ll be taken away from people who need you, who are worth saving, and can be helped and—“
you can’t recount how many nights, similar to this in which you wondered why and how two pro heroes could want and love you, why they dealt with your down days that sometimes outnumbered the ups— even if they’d shown you how much they cared, you couldn’t help but feel guilty as if your sadness took up their time to save someone else.
“you can be helped, yn. you don’t have to go what you’re going through alone, you’re worth the time and the effort of helping, no one deserves to suffer,” the green haired of your two boyfriends cuts through the tail ends of your words, still keeping distance until he knows it’s safe to touch you again. there is no look of condescending pity on his face, no sign to show you’ve pulled him into the dark of your mind. it’s just izuku, trying to help you pull through.
you look to katsuki hesitantly, he hasn’t said a word. “but i don’t want to be seen as...as weak, or to worry you because i can’t get out of my own head—“
“y’not fuckin’ weak, we’d never think that of you. we see you try to hide your pain, pretend things don’t get to you when they do. but fuckin’ handlin’ things on ya own can make y’stronger than any two heroes combined,” a look of anger flashes across his features, finer with age and tired with work. but bakugou isn’t angry with you, but with himself for leading you to believe that you were an extra weight on his shoulders. both of their shoulders. “yer not gonna get rid of us or scare us away, we love ya, we’re here for ya ‘n if it’s help that you need or think yer not worthy of, we’ll find some. it’s okay t’ask for help.”
maybe it’s hearing it from someone else, that your pain and your depression is valid, that you’re not an extra weight on the people you love that allows you to come up from a tar-like ocean for fresh air in your lungs, for the waves to calm and the storm raging in your mind to soothe. maybe it’s the two of your boyfriends being there for you despite the fear that you’d scare them away with not being okay that washes away some of the awful things you think.
you know that their support won’t make things go away over night, that it will take time for you to heal but for now you can keep your head above the water just long enough to breathe.
“can i touch you now? is it okay?” deku asks, feeling less distant from you than at the start of the day, but as your body shakes with the last of your tears all you manage is a nod before the number one hero is pulling you into his chest from the tub and the number two is wrapping a towel and his arms around you.
you sit sandwiched between the two, they keep you at the surface— holding you tight while you let out what you’ve been holding back. “we can get some help if y’want it, the doctors...therapy might be nerve wrackin’...scary even, but it can help and we’ll be there every single step of the fuckin’ way,” katsuki reasures you with pets to your head, rocking you back and forth on your bathroom floor, steam clinging to the air that you can finally breathe.
izuku nods along in agreement, pressing kisses to your wet hairline. “we’ll be here. you won’t be alone.”
the murkiness of the water in your mind starts to clear, but only just— their warmth starts to push through the clouds like sunshine brushing against your skin. a light to the dark that's plagued your every waking moment, the waves no longer crash and destroy but instead lap comfortingly at your painful thoughts and tame them just enough for you to have a moment of clarity.
you don’t have to be alone or millions of miles away, you deserve the hands of your loved ones that offer you help instead of pushing them away. the process of healing and things like therapy or meds will be hard sometimes, but katsuki and izuku will be here by your side, to help you manage days where darkness rolls in waves that hurt and help you breathe once again.
#tteokdoroki#tw depression#bnhacity#🥂 — louvre’s angels#bakugou#deku#mha x reader#mha x you#mha imagines#mha fanfic#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha fanfic#bnha angst#mha angst#mha fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou imagine#bakugou fanfic#bakugou fic#bakugou angst#bakugou fluff#deku x you#deku x reader#deku fluff#deku angst#deku imagine#deku fic#deku fanfic
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Could I request a Bucky Barnes x reader smut? Basically she and Bucky have been together for some time and maybe it’d be a little angst where the two are talking about the future and Bucky not thinking he can ever have a normal future? Which would result in soft smut and later reader being revealed as pregnant so Bucky finally gets his family
I’m Home
Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary | based on the request ^^
Warnings | angst, smut, oral sex (m receiving), fluff, pregnancy, mentions of death
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
The Wilson’s boat rocked sturdily upon the water, swaying as the boats worked aboard. Your hand held the weight of a silver spanner, twirling it in your fist as though it were a knife, thinking of the long road ahead of you. Sam had the shield now, that was a good start, but still, there was a ways to go until the world recognised him as the captain that he was meant to be.
There was so much destruction ongoing in the world, what with the flag smashers, and whomever the power broker was, and surely, you knew on the shallow surface, that there would be masses more problems to arise. It was exhausting, to know that there was no end to the war on earth, and that you were surely going to be fighting the threats until you could no more.
Bucky felt the same; he had just gone from one war to another, losing everyone that he cared about along the way. Steve had given everything up to finally find peace, and yet, the two did not share the same opportunity. An escape was never laid at your feet, instead, the pair of you were trapped in the cycle of cruelty, being blended around in a shredder by reality.
“Hey.” A voice confiscated you from the lonesome containment of your thoughts; it was Sam’s hosting sister, Sarah. I’m her own way, though you doubted that she would never admit such a thing, she was a hero. She had become a widow, and not to mention she remained a stable mother to keep her boys afloat, as well as nurturing half the kids that lived within close proximity.
“Hi Sarah.” You put the tool down, giving her your ample attention as you stood, tugging your fingers into the loops of your jeans as you stepped out of the boat, and onto the dock. “Anything I can help with?” It hadn’t passed your attention that Sam and Bucky had disappeared, but not into ash like last time. Instead, they had walked off in the direction of the house, most likely meddling about with a ball, in the back yard with Jim and Jody.
“I just came to let you know I’ve made the sofa up for you and Bucky. Are you sure you’ll be all good, I could always kick Sam outta his bed and make him sleep on the living room floor?” The two of you had nightmares, if you were to be separated from him for even a night, it was certain that the pair of you would greatly suffer. That was something you didn’t want to burden any of the Wilson’s with, screaming in the middle of the night because flashes from your past struck an unconscious nerve.
“All good, and thank you Sarah. You didn’t have to let us stay here, we both appreciate it, a hell of a lot.” One thing that you had learnt throughout your years was to show gratitude. The smallest amount shared had the ability to spring up moods, and had even set you on a much more heroic path than the one that you had been originally been placed upon.
“You’ve earned your stay.” Sam’s sister shrugged with modesty, acknowledging the help that you and Bucky had not only given to Sam, but to her family’s legacy. The two of you had aided with fixing the old wreckage that had now returned to the form of a boat, keeping it afloat rather than permitting it to sink from the quarrels that Sam had with himself regarding fixing the damned yet meaningful port of transport.
“This life you have, it’s great. I get it’s not easy, but it’s beautiful. You have two wonderful kids, that you’ve done such a great job raising, and not to mention, these community that you have is so loving and kind, even to us outsiders.” The pair of you had paused outside of her front door, speaking. “Sam is lucky to have you, he truly is.”
“Well, maybe one day this life could be something similar to what you’ll have.” The sister of your friend smiled, though your mirroring expression retracted. In a stumble of thought, you shook your head, not believing that possibility. This all was... perfect. That was something that you had never had, nor would you think that you’d ever be permitted such a peaceful lifestyle.
“I don’t think that would work out.” You sincerely mumbled, feeling the sad swelling in your chest at the prospect of all the luxuries that life had denied both you and Bucky of. It wasn’t fair all the same, but the two of you were used to being denied human rights, let alone the simplicity of nothing more than a life together. “As nice as it sounds, me and Buck aren’t really cut out for all this I suppose.”
“The world does not choose who can and cannot have a family, there’s always a way. Just because you haven’t had the most ideal line of story does not at all mean that you can’t make it work, from as much as i know, you two deserve a life together, that doesn’t include being shot at, or shooting at other people. Sometimes, you’ve just gotta go for it, and hope for the best.” She gave you a final nod, before heading inside, and you trailed after her into her her residency.
The two of you went your separate ways, and there, you saw Bucky, sat up on the sofa, his hands clasped together as his eyes stared towards the tan bag, that concealed not the shape, but the Stars and Stripes of the infamous shield. It was much a relief that it was no longer in Walker’s toxic clutch, however its presence, among other things, were taking a clear toll on your boyfriend.
“You ever feel like we’re stuck?” The air was tense around you both as he spoke solemnly, it diverting to match the mood of his question. “Like we’re us, and I love us, but it makes me think that it’s it. Just me and you, on this path for the rest of our lives, never getting a compensated break, nor an average person’s future. I want this, what these people here have, not the combat that is aided by this metal arm, or the associations that stick to us like life lines.”
“All the time, it’s on my mind James.” With a sigh, you came to sit beside him on the couch, resting your head against his bionic shoulder. “I ever wonder if there’s a timeline of you and me where there’s none of this ruckus, we just have a nice little house in a quiet and accepting place, and maybe a kid or two in the future.”
“I’d give anything up for that.” He looked at you, almost wide eyed, as his hand slithered down onto your knee cap, rubbing small circles as he wore a blunt and endearing smile upon his infatuating lips. “I mean that Buck, that sounds...”
“Perfect?” He asked, leaning closer as he grabs your chin with his wondrous fingers, his nose brushing alongside your own as his puckered lips fell upon yours, earning a small hun of content from within you. “Because you’re perfect to me, and no matter what life we are encased in, I want to share it with you. I want stare at the night sky and watch the moonlight illuminate the side of your face, and the stars reflect in your entrapping eyes, that I want to look into like a medium’s orbs forever, because that is how I will see the future that I ever so hope for.”
“How long have you been working on that one Barnes, because you are usually not that smooth?” A small laugh erupted from your mouth, but you were quickly silenced as you felt a cold metal hand slither up and beneath the back of your tank top, rubbing along the seam of your spine, as his lips ran down the column of your throat, evoking small and delicate whimpers out of you.
“Shut up doll, because I really want to fuck you now, and those words leaving your mouth are making it kinda hard to concentrate.” A furrow imbedded between his brows, as you tilted your head at him, a smirk proclaiming your expression as you pulled the material over your head, and reached behind yourself to unclip the back of your bra.
“Kinda hard to concentrate, hun?” You asked nonchalantly as his gaze zeroed in on your bare breasts, his hands smoothing along your ribcage as he adjusted his grip of you so that he was palming at your breasts, and squeezing the nipples. “I want you in me baby, I’ve practically gone days without you inside of me.” Licking your lips, you reached down to palm your beloved through his layers, earning a positive groan from the former assassin.
“Hours, you mean. I fingered you on the road trip here.” Yes, that was true, however, it was only his fingers, not even the metal ones, and whilst you loved what they alone could do, he had to be discreet as you were sat on the back of the truck, which had carried the primary parts for the Wilson’s family boat. If you were to scream out, they’d have surely thought that you’d fallen off the back of the truck and pull over, or if they had much sense, they’d have noticed that there was more going on than two passengers sat side by side on the journey to their small neighbourhood by the docks,
“You heard me Barnes, otherwise I’m sure Sam wouldn’t have any problem if I came to his room in this state of undress that I am currently portraying.” Growling was never Bucky’s fortes, however the sound aggressively ripped through the tunnel of his throat, as he threw off his grey top, quickly unfastening his belt, as he awaited for you to strip the rest of your clothing before him.
But rather than doing so, as he stood before you, your hand had trouble resisting the sight of his cock that had bobbed to attention, and thus, you wrapped it around his toned flesh, giving it a couple jerks that had his head reeling back, before you tongued his tip, moaning to yourself at the taste of him invading your sensitive taste buds. “Love your cock.”
As soon as you said that, Bucky gently gathered your head in a ponytail so that it was free from bombarding your face, and groaned as quiet as he could as you sucked him in your mouth, running your tongue up the side of his shaft. “Is that a part of your dream world baby doll, the sight of my cock throbbing to be inching down that perfect little throat of yours?”
To answer him, you pressed your head down deeper, humming around him as your eyes ogled up at the sight of your super soldier, who was trying his hardest to keep his eyes open, and attuned to the sight of you. He held his bottom lip between his teeth, as you lightly gagged around him, pulling off him, and squeezing his balls, before running your hungry tongue along the middle of his sack.
“Always. It would be a dream if you made love to me right here and now though, I’m not sure I can wait any longer James.” Bucky took a long inhale, before ravishingly pulling down your jeans and panties in one go, and tossing you so that he was below your form, and you hovered over him, toying with his erect cock. “I love you so much Bucky, and I’m scared of what’s to come. I have a feeling that there’s gonna be a fight.”
“There’s always a fight doll face.” He rubbed his thumb soothingly across your jaw, pulling your hips down closer so that you were rubbing your slick folds against his standing cock. “But this is what we’re fighting for, the rest of our lives together. I’d be damned, one day after this, and if I were to die, I’d be a happy man. There’d be the memory of you to keep me forever happy in the afterlife, and not to mention, there’d be no more wars for me to participate in.”
“I’m not going to let you die Buck, even hypothetically. We saw how your little hypothetical synopsis went last time.” Tapping his cock against your clit, a breathy sound evicted from your lips, as you stared down at the two of you intimately touching, the sight alone making you more turned on and impatient. “No one is allowed to kill you, otherwise I’ll unleash hell on all their flag smashing asses.”
Giving him one last stroke, you guided his tip towards your entrance, removing your hand once you had him situated, so that you could rest it upon his sturdy shoulder, and sink down on him, the feeling of him stretching you being the most euphoric sensation that you had ever endured. Hushed moans ceased from the both of you, as Bucky’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, only adding to all of the pleasure that was erupting within you.
“Think your pussy is gonna kill me before anyone else does; your so tight.” His pitch had rose, as your fingertips danced along the left side of his handsome face, invisibly connecting the dots of his beauty marks. You allowed the pair of you to adjust for a simple moment, before you began to raise your hips, sliding up his super soldier rod, only to slide down it again.
The actions were repeated, as your own hands trailed down his warm skin, to drag down the golden lines of his vibranium arm, only to bring the weapon to your mouth, and kiss every black finger up, as you tried your best to muffle the moans that were hoping to reap free. “So fucking big, I love you and your cock.” You muttered, your sight turning blurry as Bucky realised that it was his turn to do the work, and thus, he thrusted up into you, making echoing sounds of your skin slapping together reverberate around the room.
“Love you more.” He gritted his teeth, pulling his metallic hand away from your numb lips, so that he could swirl the elegant digits around your clit, the action provoking whimpers to rapidly surpass your exterior, as you bit harshly onto your own lip, and screwed your eyes shut. “Cum for me doll, want you to cover my hard cock in everything you have. Come on baby, you can do it.”
Without much thought, as your mind was too scrambled to do so, you reached for Bucky’s spare hand, pulling it to your mouth as you sucked on his fingers as though you were blowing him. A low moan that was dialled down from the presence of his flesh digits, ran from your mouth, as you began to bounce your hips, chasing and eventually reaching your high. You came around him, pushing him too over the edge, his seed filling your walls, as you collapsed atop of him, huffing from exhaustion as you removed his salivated hand from the realms of your mouth, resting your head against his panting chest.
Stringed sighs fell from Bucky’s breath as he tried to catch his own breath. His hands rubbed your back, not only to comfort you, but also to subconsciously pull you closer against him, and his softening cock that was still inside you, and was keeping his cum plugged within your tender and pulsating walls. If life was easier, there’d be more time for this, and that, but for now, it was just every now and then. Maybe you’d win this fight and survive until the next one, but maybe, you’d lose and never battle again.
Life was precious, that was something that you had not only learned as an avenger, but also something that had been told to you by Isiah. That man thought that you deserved a normal life, no fighting, no super soldiers. He himself was the biggest yet silent critic of those with additional strength, but his opinion was never going to sway you, not as you stared out into Sarah’s backyard, and watched the man that you loved play with the boys.
They had the shield, and were whisking it through the air like a frisbee; dangerous, yes, but again, life could only amount to so much without an ounce of pain. A content and satisfied smile absorbed any pain on your face, you were enraptured with the sight of Bucky like this, he was like an uncle to these two kids. He was no captain America, that was for sure, but you didn’t want a man in Stars and Stripes, all you wanted was him to be at peace, and it was a fact unbeknownst to him, that you had made such an alternative to that.
“Still want all this?” Sarah emerged, a cheap yet formidable bottle of wine pursed in her hand, as she held two clear and tall glasses in her hand. You hummed, watching as she poured the thin red consistency into one glass, but as she went to fill the other, you held out your hand, shaking your head. The woman was confused, last time you had visited, and were entangled on her sofa with the limbs of your boyfriend and a shaggy old blanket, you had kindly accepted her offer.
“Sure do.” You sighed, staring out into the green abyss where Jim was hanging from Bucky’s arm like it were a branch. “How do you do this, this whole mother thing? I’ve never been able to wrap my head around how you make it look so easy, it’s just, you do such a good job.” Your palms rested flat on your thighs as you laughed at Sam ordering Jody to jump on Bucky’s back, as he fell down in faux defeat.
“It never is easy y/n.” She placed the open bottle down, along with the mismatched glasses, that were asymmetrical considering one was half filled and the other wallowed in emptiness. “But every step of difficulty is worth it. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss their father, but they’re my priority. For Jim and Jody, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, and you’d understand that if you ever opened yourself up to giving your life of heroism up to have all this.”
“I might have to.” Twiddling with your fingers, glancing up at your boyfriend, realising that he was in fact not looking over, you clasped your intwined hands over your stomach, smiling softly to yourself. “And maybe not having another option is the best option for me and Buck, because we don’t have to fight with ourselves over being included in our duties, we have new ones.”
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Sarah asked, resting her nurturing hand upon the tile of your shoulder, prompting you to turn your face towards her. There was a conflict in your eyes, it was something that she recognised her younger self having once worn. It was the idea of putting everything aside, all for a child, everything that she had ever known, so that she could put her baby boy first. “Does Bucky know?”
“He will.” You shifted your head down, unsure of yourself. This had been what you had wanted, and whilst you still envied Sarah for the role she had, you were hurt. A part of you wanted to be an avenger until you were nothing but a soul drifting in the abyss of non existence, another didn’t want to let the knowledge of being a carrier for a new future crumble you. “I just need a moment to tell him.”
“I’ve got it.” She sent you a wink, picking up the items she had brought out, before she called on Sam and the kids to come inside. Sarah had gifted you the opportunity of revealing the truth to your partner with no one else around; you appreciated that. As he stalked closer, you met him halfway, sinking into his arms as he hugged you.
“Looked like you were having fun with the boys.” You verbally noted, loving the feeling of him running his fingers through your hair. “You’re amazing Bucky Barnes, to me and to everyone. I just, don’t want you to freak out on me, I have something big, really big, to tell you, and-“
“Baby, I know.” He smiled, pulling back so that he could look you in the face. “I have super human senses, I heard their little heart beat for the first time yesterday. We’re having a baby, and I couldn’t be happier about it. In fact, I want to ask you if you’ll accept my question of making Sam the godfather.” You nodded, tears standing in your eyes, as you brought the man down for a kiss.
“Yes. But I’m not sure that he’ll be praising us for making a baby when we technically created him or her on the couch inside.” Bucky shook his head at you, kissing your forehead before walking inside with you, preparing to tell the Wilson family, that had along the way became your own, the good news- well, not the sofa bit.
#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes imagine#bucky oneshot#bucky imagine#bucky reader insert#bucky x pregnant!reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes request#imagines#imagine#xreader#sebastian stan smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fluff#bucky fluff#bucky barnes ff#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader
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You probably know this by now, I don't know if you keep up with Whumptober, but one of the prompts this year includes "blindness". I'm not blind but based on your posts about writing blind characters, and based on how I would feel if one of my disabilities were used as a whump prompt, I'm not super comfortable with it. I was wondering what your thoughts are on blindness being a Whumptober prompt.
(unironically and with feeling) thanks, I hate it.
Yes, I’m familiar with Whumptober, but I’ve never participated myself and I haven’t seen this year’s prompts.
Edit: I later did see the prompts and check out the blog. I think it's a good set of prompts and I look forward to all the promising content, especially since some of my favorite tropes are there. To be clear before you read this, I have no problem with Whumptober2021 or whump in general. This is not the first time blindness has been included for a list of whump prompts, and it won't be the last.
This post directed at the concept of "blindness" as a whump prompt and why I think it's a bad idea. The intended audience is individual writers thinking about future projects.
The timing of this is almost too perfect because I read a fanfic earlier this week that would meet that prompt exactly. Tags included whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. Now whump, hurt/comfort, and angst with a happy ending are tags I enjoy reading, but blindness as whump has a specific message to it.
To explain that message, I want to discuss what whump is. Many readers are already familiar with the genre, but I think taking the specific definitions and picking apart what it means and what expectations we carry when reading whump fanfiction
Urban Dictionary defines it as: taking a character and putting them through physical and/or mental torment and is typically followed by the same character being treated for their traumas. To indicate the characters place in the situation they’d typically be called a whumpee (the character being hurt/comforted), the whumper (the character that causes harm and trauma), and the caretaker (the character designated the helping/healing/comforting the whumpee).
Fanlore has a page for whump that explains it in depth, including where it started in fanfiction, examples of whump, and even a list of “popular targets” in different fandoms. (Warning: you might find yourself called out on the popular targets list)
“The term whump (or whumping) generally refers to a form of Hurt/Comfort that is heavy on the hurt and is often found in gen stories. The exact definition varies and has evolved over time. Essentially, whump involves taking a canon character, and placing them in physically painful or psychologically-damaging scenarios. Often this character is a fan favorite…”
To add to that, I think an important detail is the distinction Fanlore makes between hurt/comfort and whump:
“While some communities and fandoms may use whump as a synonym for hurt/comfort, there is still a recognition that whump refers to darker and more extreme scenarios. And there are still whump fics been written that have very little, or no comfort at the end of the story.”
The big appeal of hurt/comfort is getting to both explore the darker sides of pain and then experience the catharsis of being taken care of, of being supported by your loved ones as you recover from the trauma. The character is the proxy for experiencing those highs and lows while you yourself are safe at home.
I personally don’t read much/any whump without some h/c involved, but I’m happy there are stories out there for people who do enjoy it. I’m not here to judge what you like reading or what you do to your characters.
What I want is to express how blindness, my disability, used as a whump prompt personally makes me feel and what message it sends to me, to others, and how that message affects my daily life.
Whump undeniably involves watching a character suffer through something painful and traumatic.
My use of the word “suffer” is what I want you to focus on.
Vision loss can be painful and traumatic. I personally developed an anxiety disorder in response to vision loss. Others experience depression. For some it might result in relapsing into old, maladaptive coping mechanisms like drug use, self harm, or eating disorders.
A big part of my anxiety was how people reacted to my vision loss. It was a cause of their stress. They were worried because they genuinely believed I would never live a happy life without normal vision, and that my life would only be struggle and pain.
I recently saw an old friend who hadn’t heard about my vision loss. The conversation was awkward, but the worst part was how they reacted as though I had experienced an insurmountable tragedy. And even when I assured them I’m happy with my life, they clearly didn’t believe me. They acted like I was just lying or in denial.
I love that people want to empathize with my situation and ask themselves what they would do in my situation, but I hate when the conclusion they come to is something along the lines of “I could never do that, I’d be too miserable thinking about everything I lost, I’d never be able to do anything I enjoyed ever again.” But I did go blind. And I’m not miserable, I’m actually happy with the direction my life is going, and I still enjoy my hobbies, even if I engage with them differently.
I’m not suffering. My life didn’t end with vision loss. It’s not ruined, broken, or worthless.
I read a fanfic that was tagged with whump, blindness, and angst with a happy ending. A general synopsis of the plot: the whumpee had gone blind due to a curse. It was true love’s kiss that broke the curse. Even from the summary I knew it was going to end with whumpee being cured somehow and that I’d leave that fanfic vaguely dissatisfied no matter how good the rest of the fanfic was.
I can say this for the fanfic: the whumpee had already accepted that they would likely be blind for the rest of their life, but everyone around them was treating it as a tragedy that needed to be fixed, working tirelessly for a cure despite the whumpee’s protests that they didn’t have to.
It actually hit home to my personal experience.
I still left it dissatisfied with the ending. I might love curse fics in that fandom, and I love the “true love’s kiss” trope, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from the fact that: an actual person out in the world thought the best happy ending, maybe the only happy ending, would be if the character got their sight back.
(note: I clicked kudos and exited out of the story's page because no fanfic writer deserves unsolicited critique or hate, especially for content I consumed for free and at my own volition.)
Why read a story I knew would disappoint me?
Because blindness representation is so damn rare that I feel like I’m wandering in a desert, dying from thirst and desperate for that oasis. But sometimes that oasis is a mirage and the author is unintentionally telling you that your life is actually awful and you’ll never be fully happy like this. And that is a shit mentality to walk through life with.
I don’t appreciate blindness being a whump plot. I hate it. Hundreds (thousands?) of fanfictions featuring blind characters are about to enter the internet and the overall message is going to be “You poor thing! You must be in so much pain, you must be miserable! Who’s going to save you? Who’s going to comfort you? Wouldn’t it be terrible if there was no one in your life to take care of you? You poor helpless thing!”
And I feel objectified. I feel trivialized. The mirage in the desert is going to become a starch, empty room filled with dozens of water bottles, almost all of them poisoned. My representation is going to hurt me personally, and it’s going to reinforce that idea strangers have about how awful my life must be.
(I returned to school this past month, and every day I’m hesitant to tell someone I’m visually impaired because I don’t want to be treated differently. If I’ve managed to pass as sighted this whole time and then suddenly reveal “oh yeah, I’m visually impaired” I feel this instant silence, this pause of awkwardness as people suddenly question how they’re supposed to treat me. They treated me like a person, and now I’m something strange and unfamiliar.)
I’ve worked so hard to improve representation for blind people, to give internet strangers the exposure to a blind person they need to normalize blindness because I hope that if they’re ever so lucky as to meet a blind person, they’ll treat that person with respect. That hope that another person in the blind community will find a friend they feel comfortable and accepted with. I hope that I’ll meet people who accept my blindness as just another aspect of me (like being bisexual or gender fluid or a writer or a cat lover).
Please don’t turn me and my community into a caricature. Don’t erase everything I’ve worked for with this blog.
To be clear, this is not just me saying "I hate the cure trope" again. This is me saying "the purpose of whump is to painfully hurt your favorite character, and I hate that your idea of pain and suffering is my daily (wonderful) life."
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Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!
Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST
A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)
Word Count : 2.3K
Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;
He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.
“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.”
His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.”
His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.
The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom.
It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer.
Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do.
Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.
“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother.
“I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either.
Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself.
Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything.
Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room.
“She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…”
“I don’t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.
The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo.
She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours.
As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected.
“We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo.
“What are you doing, Asmo?”
He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.”
You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs.
“Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#obey me! swd#obey me! shall we date#obey me!#om! swd#om! shall we date#obey me x reader#obey me x f!reader#obey me x mc#obey me angst#obey me Asmodeus#obey me Asmodeus x reader#obey me Asmodeus x mc#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#Asmodeus x reader#Asmodeus x mc#tw pregnancy#tw children#tw babies#tw abortion#asmodeus avatar of lust#obey me Mammon#mammon avatar of greed
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𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢
requested by anon: GREAT! Since you write for shinsou can I request (if you have time) shinsou bumping in a new student and he just thinks they are so pretty and he can see that they have fluffy ears and he's just in love so he introduces himself quickly but the person is just standing there wide eyed looking around panicked and he thinks they won't talk to him because they are afraid that he will brainwash him and spits out a bitter "i'm not a damn villai" only to find out later that day that they're selective mute
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: shinsou hitoshi x gn!reader
𝐰.𝐜: 3.688
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: y/n has social anxiety, which is the reason for their selective mutism, angst because shinsou thinks he’s being judged because of his quirk again
𝐚.𝐧: this might be the best thing i’ve ever written and i am not taking criticism on that because it is the truth! 😌 (if words only always came this easily to me 😔) also for some reason this turned into a little bit of a character study...i- i have no excuses. i hope you enjoy this anon!! 🥰🥰
𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃. Most people would probably describe him as cynical even and they’d be right.
Hitoshi learned to take everything at face value. Trust was earned, friendships were mendable and love was nothing but a chemical reaction.
It wasn’t easy to impress Hitoshi as he saw most interactions with others as trivial, one of the only exceptions being Midoriya Izuku who had really managed to get into his head and wedge his way into his life.
Other than him though Hitoshi meant it when he said he wasn’t in UA to make friends. He wasn’t here to be distracted by superficial relationships. He wanted to join the Hero course and he wanted to prove himself. That was his goal and nothing or nobody would stand in the way of that.
Not even a pretty stranger.
And he had never seen a stranger as pretty as you.
Love at first sight was a silly concept. To Hitoshi and to most other people, everyone but the naive optimistics that liked to dream of fairies and unicorns and all that shit.
Hitoshi didn’t really believe in love, especially not at first sight, but he was willing to admit that there was a possibility to lay eyes on a person and be instantly drawn to them. In a not-love way.
He was willing to admit it because he’s experienced it and before he saw you he would have scoffed at the mere idea of himself being such an illogical fool.
But there was just something about you, your face mostly, it was very pretty, and the small set of fluffy ears, he thought maybe they looked similar to cat ears, but they were set too low and laid flat against your head.
Or maybe you were feeling uncomfortable.
Considering he bumped into you and made you drop all your notebooks and papers and it was only a few minutes until class started it would have been a justified emotion. He hadn’t seen you around before and he was pretty sure he heard someone in his class mention something about a new schoolmate from one of the other courses, so you were new, too, if he wasn’t mistaken.
First days were awful and he felt sorry he had just made it a little worse for you by not looking where he was going but in his defense he had just come back from a morning training class with Aizawa and he was just feeling exhausted and a little inclined to just go back to bed.
Considering he wouldn’t have bumped into you, he felt less frustrated about Aizawa pushing him over his limits this early in the morning, although your cute face couldn’t fix all of his problems…he thinks.
Maybe you had a quirk that gave you that power, he wouldn’t be all too surprised. That would be an explanation for his uncharacteristic enchantment with you.
Or maybe it was the cat ears.
He loved cats.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, because he had just realized that he had just been staring at you for who knows how long after running into you…take that in a literal way.
“I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.”
And why was he introducing himself now? Must be the exhaustion or maybe you being pretty did more to him than he liked to accept.
You looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights, eyes wide, and he couldn’t blame you because he was so weird and your books were still spread out on the floor. You probably wondered why the boy who just bumped into you didn’t even find the time to help you pick up your stuff but instead introduced himself at the most ill-fitting moment.
He glanced down at the mess of papers, noticing how you hadn’t made an attempt to pick them up either so he decided to be a gentleman (because the idea of impressing you a little made his heart flutter a little…gross).
He crouched down and started collecting your things, chuckling a little as he told you how you must think he’s such an asshole for making you come late to class. You scrambled to help him, but you didn’t answer and he was a little curious if you were maybe mad at him now.
He hoped he hadn’t made this pretty stranger mad at him already, though he would understand.
But when he looked up he saw your face was still pulled into an anxious expression and you wouldn’t meet his eyes, stubbornly staring down at the floor.
He didn’t think much of it, maybe you were shy, that was cute.
When he had helped you pick up all of your stuff and you were standing again, you were pressing your books to your chest protectively and now he thought you probably didn’t trust his ability to walk and that offended him a little because did he look like a clumsy boy with two left feet?
Maybe he was spending too much time with Kaminari…he would have to fix that if push came to shove.
Hitoshi could have left then (he had a functioning body after all), he could have just turned around and hurried to get to his class, but instead he remained stood in front of you. Because somehow the thought of leaving without finding out your name and ensuring you were on a friendly basis filled his chest with something heavy and uncomfortable.
He gave you a grin, and no, he wasn’t all soft just because of a pretty face, he wasn’t.
“You’re new, aren’t you? If you want I can show you to your classroom,” he suggested, gesturing casually to show you it was whatever.
He was cool and all.
You should know that, hopefully you knew that.
You shook your head, the movement hectic and overexaggerated, your fingers closing tighter around your books, grip so hard it made your knuckles turn wide and he saw you bite your lips…as if…as if you tried to keep your words inside your mouth...
His grin dropped in an instant and he hated how he hadn’t realized, because this had been so obvious. How had he missed this? How had this silly emotion he felt when looking at your features, the instant interest, made him this blind to this entire interaction.
You were uncomfortable. Clearly.
Not just anxious or nervous because you were new and you had bumped into somebody on your first day of school, no that was a different kind of dread. Your whole posture was rigid, your stance defensive and your eyes were still glancing around as if you’d hoped there was somebody who could rescue you…from him.
Not to forget about your ears, something he’d thought of as cute, laying flat against the back of your head signaling distress and fear.
He’d really hoped you didn’t know about it yet. Hoped he had a chance with you before somebody else’s words about him could ruin it…
No, if he was being honest, he had hoped that even if you knew you’d be less judgemental. Have a nice and open mind matching that pretty face.
What had he just said about naive optimistic people? They were idiots and he was one of them.
How could he think that there was anybody who was unafraid of talking to him despite his ability of brainwashing, despite the reputation of something labeled as a “quirk matching a villain”.
He scoffed, trying his best to appear as unaffected as possible, face set in a neutral expression, but the anger and the disappointment made it hard to not grimace at you.
And he had thought you were so pretty!
Hitoshi, you truly know how to make a fool of yourself…
“Whatever, forget i ever said anything,” he knew he couldn’t hide the frustration in his voice but he was allowed to feel hurt when everybody kept treating him like he would turn around and start brainwashing people left and right, “Not a shitty villain.”
And he wasn’t even sure you heard that last bit because looking at your wide confused eyes and twitching ears made him feel sick so he pushed past you, not looking back, fists and jaw equally clenched as he walked towards class.
Shinsou Hitoshi didn’t believe in love at first sight but somehow your rejection made his heart hurt like not many other things had ever managed to do.
—
His mood had dropped significantly and having to sit through boring social studies with his teacher monologizing for 50 minutes did not help distract him from you and your anxious face.
Why did it even bother him? He didn’t know you, had just met you once and had a very one sided fragment of a conversation with you. Yes, you were pretty but that shouldn’t make him this upset at the thought of you being a judgemental asshole.
He should be used to it by now. Quirk discrimination was fairly common in this society and mind quirks especially were highly debated.
Nothing as vulnerable as the human mind, after all.
The school day dragged on, slowly, minutes ticking by in a pace that made it seem like hours and maybe it was, maybe his teacher’s monotone voice had actually managed to fuck with the time somehow or maybe it was because of the one hour less sleep he had gotten due to his extra training.
It wasn’t until the ringing of the lunch bell that Hitoshi realized he had forgotten to take any notes. Great, that was just great.
He decided to just ask one of his classmates for them later, nothing to do about it now when everyone was already leaving the classroom to rush to meet up with their friends at the cafeteria.
Hitoshi didn’t have any reason to rush, most times he sat alone, sometimes, more commonly now, Midoriya joined him or called him to sit at his friends’ table and yes maybe Hitoshi had said “No friends.” but something about Midoriya’s sincere insistence had him cave in a little bit more every day.
He did see you again. Sitting at one of the tables in the back, surrounded by a group of other students who he assumed to be your classmates. He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on you as he stood in line for food. You looked nervous still and although the girl (fairy wings out of all things growing out of her back) sitting next to you was talking to you he didn’t see you actually respond, you only nodded softly and smiled a little.
It looked off, your smile, even from this distance he could recognize that and…wow now he felt like a stalker.
He quickly turned his head before anybody else, or you, noticed him staring like a creep because what was he doing questioning a stranger’s behaviour? That was none of his business.
Since when was he getting into other people’s business? Maybe he should spend less time with Midoriya as well.
He hated people being nosy with him so why was he doing exactly that to this new kid. Just because he was attracted to you? Is that what his mother warned him about when she talked to him about hormones and puberty and other normal teenager things?
If yes he was officially quitting. He did not need any of that.
This was the opposite of pleasant. This was just annoying and completely irrational.
Hitoshi chose a table at the far end of the back, far away from you and most other people and almost directly next to the vending machines.
It was one of his favorite seats in this whole school, with his beloved Georgia coffee nearby whenever he craved the taste of caffeine and bitterness. (Basically the two materials his soul was made out of.) Just a few steps away and wasn’t that just the definition of heaven?
And after all of the mental acrobatics he had gone through, thanks to you, and considering he had only survived half of the school day, he really really needed that can of coffee now. Preferably with double the amount of caffeine. Or maybe thrice was better.
So the first thing he did after he put his food down, was walk towards that vending machine, hand already searching his pockets for some change.
Two girls were in line before him, chatting idly with each other and when Hitoshi stepped closer he recognized one of them as the one girl that sat at your table and had tried talking to you. The one with the fairy wings.
“They don’t talk at all?” Her friend asked when he came to a halt behind them.
Fairy girl glanced at Hitoshi quickly before recognizing he wasn’t whoever the both of them were talking about and turned back to her, pulling her friend to the side so Hitoshi could go ahead and get his beverage.
He gave her an appreciative nod and went ahead.
Beloved coffee, here he comes.
“No, I didn't think it was that bad! Our teacher said it’s caused by anxiety but I thought maybe if I kept talking to them they’d warm up to me at least.”
A sympathetic hum came from her friend.
“It’s so hard changing schools in the middle of the school year, it must be hard enough already without the selective mutism,” she continued on and the girl did really sound worried.
Hitoshi had perked up at her words, his brain slowly connecting the dots.
They must be talking about you, you were the only new student he was aware of. And the fact that you didn’t just not talk to him, no you didn’t talk at all.
Due to anxiety.
He’s heard of it before, he thinks he remembered somebody in his elementary school having something like it. The boy hadn’t talked at all, not to any of the other kids, only to a cousin he’d known for years.
He knew he shouldn’t be so happy about this revelation, it must be hard for you to deal with it, especially in a society where everybody expected you to engage in conversation and socialize.
All the time.
But if that was true, if you just couldn’t talk around certain people, he still had a chance to get to know you better. You weren’t scared of him or his quirk, you were scared of people. Equally. He could deal with that. That was understandable.
People were quite scary.
“They’ll grow comfortable soon, you’ll see. We can help them adjust and hopefully they’ll warm up then,” the friend suggested and Hitoshi wasn’t even really listening anymore at this point, too indulged in formulating a plan.
A plan of how to approach you without stressing you out too much or make you feel forced to talk with him. He didn’t want to force you into anything.
He also needed to apologize for being so rude to you, that must have made everything worse for you. After all, you didn’t know about his sensitivity towards his quirk and other people’s reaction to it.
You had just been scared and he had been a jerk.
—
He waited until after classes had ended to look for you, just to find you sitting under one of the blossom trees near the entrance to the school building. You looked even prettier like this. Surrounded by beautiful blossoms, some of them scattered on the ground around you, stray rays of sunshine illuminating your hair.
Yes, he was a little doomed.
You were sitting cross-legged with a notebook resting on top of your lap, tapping the pen against the paper in thought. The way your face was scrunched up in concentration, eyebrows drawn together and lips pulled into a pout…could you stop already before he combusted?
Hitoshi decided that starring again truly was creepy and he should stop. Stop staring and stop being a coward. He had to apologize, after all.
He stepped closer, towards the tree and towards you sitting beneath it. You heard the steps and looked up, eyes widening when you recognized him and he saw your hands clench around your notebook to hold it a little tighter.
Shit, he hadn’t left a good impression, at all. He needed to correct that instantly.
Be approachable, Hitoshi!
He smiled, hopefully it was welcoming because he didn’t do it very often and Kaminari had told him it was a little strange looking. Although the boy had ensured him that it wasn't strange looking in a bad way after he realized that that wasn’t the nicest thing to say to somebody.
Kaminari was blunt like that.
You still stared at him.
Well, at least you didn’t run. That was something. A start he’d like to hope and why was he turning into one of these naive idiots who dared to hope for silly things like silly crushes not running from you.
After all of this was done he needed to go cool down, maybe hit his head against a wall a few times. Get rid of all of this mush in his brain.
He waved at you, because his brain was mush and you looked a little confused.
Without beating too much around the bush and making even more of a fool of himself with...waving even more, who was waving these days? Oh, right. Kaminari was. Start avoiding Kaminari, right up there on his to-do list.
He extended his hand to you, a small folded piece of paper sitting comfortably in his palm. You stared at it, more specifically at the drawing on the outside. It was a cute cat, because he liked cats, with the words “Meow! Open me!” written above it. It was childish, sure, but he didn’t really care. He had nothing to lose either way.
You looked up at him in question, silently asking if this was something you were meant to take and Hitoshi nodded, but instead of waiting for you (you might be feeling anxious about it, he realized) he took it upon himself to place it on top of your open notebook.
He didn’t wait for you to open it, he turned around and walked away. Not because he was rude, but because he didn’t want to intrude in your space. Instead of standing in front of you and staring like a stalker, which would just end up making you feel uncomfortable, he settled with sitting down at one of the benches a few meters away. He also grabbed one of his notebooks and pens out of his bag as well, deciding it wouldn’t be so bad if he started his homework. Not making it too obvious he was anticipating your reply to his note.
His note that read “I’m a jerk, forgive me? P.s: you’re pretty.” with loads of pleading cat faces decorating the paper. Damn, he really hoped you liked cats, too, because otherwise that would be awkward.
He waited for a while, he thinks, he wasn’t actually sure because sleep deprivation did tend to fuck with your sense of time a little. He tried to concentrate on homework instead, considering his teacher was out to get him and why did they teach some of this shit anyway? After a few minutes he heard shuffling from the direction where you were sitting under the tree and shit, you were packing your bag and leaving, weren’t you.
He scared you off, it was probably his face, he had a resting bitch face if he was to believe Kaminari (“You’re still hot, dude, don’t worry.” “I don’t understand how these two things could go together...”). And maybe calling you pretty just like that made you uncomfortable, as well? He did not think this through enough.
His thoughts came to a halt when instead of walking off, you made your way towards him, sitting down next to him on the bench, several inches between the two of you. He looked up to you, noticing the hint of a blush gracing your cheeks and yes, you were biting your lips again.
Wordlessly, and staring at your lap, you held out a different piece of paper to the one he had given you, folded neatly. A drawing of a fluffy cat peeking out from between your fingers. He took the note from you, carefully, his lips curling into a soft smile.
You were so cute.
He inspected the drawing closer, noticing how neatly you had drawn the lines in comparison to him. Just like you had put more care into folding the paper, it made his heart flutter at your cuteness. Your cat was fluffy, tail long and bushy and eyes closed in relaxation. You had copied his silly words, “meow! open me.” written above the pet.
He did that, being greeted with cute sketches of several other cats. Some big and fluffy ones and some small and scrawny ones and...this cat looked a little bit like him. No, he must be imagining things now. Your cuteness was getting to his head.
In between the cats you left a note, as well, reading “I’m Y/n Y/f/n, nice to meet you! :) P.s: You’re pretty, too.”
He couldn’t believe his eyes. A smile spread on his face at the sight of the words. Y/f/n. Pretty just like your face. Cute just like you. And you thought he was pretty, too! Hitoshi with his resting bitch face.
There was a warmth in his chest, blooming and spreading to his cheeks and when he glanced back at you, he saw you were playing with your fingers, glancing back at him quickly, a soft smile gracing your lips.
Maybe being a naive optimist wasn’t as bad as he always thought. In this moment, dreaming of fairies and unicorns and all that shit didn’t seem so bad at all.
“Nice to meet you, too, Y/n,” he replied softly, folding the paper and putting it into his blazer pocket. For later.
Then he ripped a page from his notebook and began writing a new message.
Taglist: @crystal-lilac @duf3h6237 @hufflefluffslytherin @chucky-26o1 @crapimahuman
#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou hitoshi x reader#shinsou hitoshi oneshot#bnha#bnha x reader#bnha oneshot#shinsou hitoshi fluff#shinsou hitoshi angst#bnha fluff#bnha angst#tw: anxiety#shinsou#shinsou x reader#shinsou oneshot#shinsou fluff#shinsou angst
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How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]
[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]
[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]
Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!
No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.
It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.
It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.
Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.
In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.
It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.
With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.
The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.
And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.
Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.
[ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]
#my writing#ml salt#lila salt#lila salt prompt#now technically there isnt any actual class salt or adrien salt in here because its more of a prompt but to be safe il tag it anyway#adrien salt#class salt#ml salt prompt
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Definitely, maybe.
Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.
Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.
Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan
Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.
Word count: 6.4 k
a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.
All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.
Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.
—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.
Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.
You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.
—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.
—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.
—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.
—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.
—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.
—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.
You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.
The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.
You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.
The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.
Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.
Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.
—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.
—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée
—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.
He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.
You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.
You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”
—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.
—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.
—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?
—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.
—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.
—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.
—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.
—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.
Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.
—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.
You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.
The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.
—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.
You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.
—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.
You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.
—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.
—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.
—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.
—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.
—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.
That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.
—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.
—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.
—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.
—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.
—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.
—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.
—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?
—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.
He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.
—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.
You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.
—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.
You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.
—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.
—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.
—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.
—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?
—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.
—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.
—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.
—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.
—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.
—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.
—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.
—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.
—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.
You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.
—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.
—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.
—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.
—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.
—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.
—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.
—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.
—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.
You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.
—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.
—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.
—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.
—For the good ones.
The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.
—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?
—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.
—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.
You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.
—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.
You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.
↬☀︎︎
A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.
—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.
—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow
The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.
—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.
—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.
—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.
—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.
—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.
—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.
Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.
However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.
—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.
—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.
—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.
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For your love
chapter two - Venus Doom
[ series masterlist ]
previous chapter | next chapter
pairings : reader x damiano david
story summary : damiano and reader are in very loving relationship that sometimes almost too quickly becomes too toxic for anyone likings
chapter warning (s) : basically I want to describe you how I imagine Y/Ns and Damianos relationship in the best way possible.
THIS IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SHOULD LOOK UP TO OR IDOLZE OR ROMANTICIZE!!!
slight angst , mentions of corruption , mentions of sex , mentions of abuse and some mental illnesses , god complex , mentions of various kinks ,
song recommendation - venus doom
Damiano David was a very complex person. He was a very hard to define persona. Adored and respected by many who knew him or not , never feared but was certainly often a main topic of various gossips.
He was very energetic and optimistic person , he loved to provide good time for the people around him but he also expected to be entertained. He was so artistic and charismatic, he had this cloudy velvety aura that could describe him as royalty.
He wanted everything or nothing .
He wanted to be dominant in every field he could reach. He was hardworking and stubborn.
He had a vision he didn't hesitate to fulfil.
His looks and his self presentation was mainly an act put up as guarding system and some sort of mechanism to prevent himself from bad outcomes.
Only his closest family , his bandmates ( whomst are also practically a family to him ) and his beloved dearest lover knew him truly.
Y/N however , knew him better than he did himself .
She was the first girl he let under his skin and under his layers of colours , luxurious presentations and egoistic posture.
He was bewitched by her. He opened himself up in all sort of ways he could to her.
She was the first girl he was making love to , not simply just fucking , but making love to, the first girl he ever cried in front of , the first one he introduced his ENTIRE family to , the first one he considered having their own family with etc .. etc ..
She was simply love of his life.
There was nothing much more to say about him than either to praise him or despite him.
Depending on if you wanted to be him / with him or if he stole your girl.
He was a sweet manipulative heartbreaker who was just simply along his fame and talent bored to death.
He cared about his physical appearance a lot , he took extra care when it came to facial and body hygiene and he loved to look good and markable.
He loved to dress fancy and he loved to wear accessories , he loved being in some dim spotlight.
He meet Y/N through his band mate Thomas , almost 3 years ago , and now they are dating 2 years in a row. Never breaking up but constantly fighting.
Her family loved him , I mean , everybody in her surrounding did. But their not so hidden aggressive and toxic relationship was not something they tried hiding.
He never laid a hand on her , only when fucking , he never cheated on her , only flirted to make her pissed , he maybe once beaten up a guy for talking to her , he never controlled her movements or tried changing her habits but he did liked to make bitchy comments trying to hide his jealousy and concern.
He had a huge pride along his ego that he was so damn skilled at hiding , but Y/N saw it instantly.
He was in fact often insecure when it came to dating , especially if it was a relationship he cared about.
He was not insecure about his looks , his habits , his actions , way of making love to a girl or if someone liked him or not. He was insecure if he is good enough at pleasing his partner in a spiritual and sensual way.
I repeat what I said . He always must be dominant.
So , in a situation like this , where you have a person whomst is consisted of su much pride and ego and insecurities , what are you going to do?
Y/N questioned her sanity and her mental health so many god damn times.
She was thinking for herself almost every second or third day if this is really what she wants for herself ? Is this the person she swears her life upon?
Yes.
And million yes in a row.
Damiano was a complex person with some certain needs that was just simply afraid of losing the most valuable person in his life.
His pride was not allowing him to admit that to her verbally , but his actions ( which Y/N knew like they where hers) gave him away.
So instead of reassuring himself somehow that their relationship is not in danger when it came to those simply and silly small things they fight over each day , he became violent and possessive.
His toxic and deadly behaviour and perfect skill of manipulation was the any way he thought was possibly good enough to keep her beside him.
She got hooked onto him.
She couldn't live a day without him. She would rather fight and yell at him than to leave him. He was her everything and so was she to him.
They where not so different. Y/N was also very capable of getting her way through manipulations and coping his actions.
But believe me... They where the sweetest and most dear people you could stumble upon.
They where both very supportive of each others carriers , they always had cute dates planned ahead and they had surprisingly the same hobbies.
They simply adored each other.
They where madly in love and it was taking over their racional reactions.
When a huge dramatic beyond the borders fight happens between them Y/N either gets kicked out of their apartment for the night or she simply leaves by herself.
In those times the only safe place is her parents house and she often heard her mother repeat the same damn words.
" Y/N I love that boy so much and he is very dear to me and your father as well , but he crossed the line again, you should start to consider if he is the healthiest option for you. "
Y/N hated her mother for being so right in such times.
Their mutual mental health was not a thing to brag about. They never mentioned paying visits to some kind of relationship adviser. They thought it was not needed , that they can handle themselves the best.
But Y/N did seek for some professional help and Damiano did not hold her back. He was happy even to hear about it. He never considered going for himself but he was happy and somehow sad that his lover could open to someone professional who could help her out with coping around stressful situations.
He was more than aware that he was causing her the most damage.
Their apartment was cozy , creamy coloured and modern. Their fashion taste was opposite yet similar.
They had a small dog and 2 gold fishes. They also planned to move into a bigger house with bigger yard once they decide on having family.
Damiano was convinced him and Y/N would be the most amazing parents a child could wish for , both of them spoiling their children with love and switching between good and bad cop role. He wanted a girl and a boy , in that order.
But he also wanted to focus on his career , Y/N as well.
Maybe those children will bring them closer to that inner peace they are eagerly searching for.
When it came to appearing together in public places they had one simple rule.
If I am not coming neither are you. They all shared mutual friends and they where always invited together on events and such things.
There was a difference actually.
When the band Måneskin, in which Damiano was lead singer , was invited somewhere Y/N always came , often mistaken for the 5th member or their menager. But in fact she way jealous of everyone landing an eye on her glorious boyfriend.
Those nights went peacefully some might say. But they didn't see the hand or thigh gripping under the table , the oral sex in public restrooms and silent eye language of hate and despite in their eyes . The kind of language only Y/N and Damiano knew for.
Y/N had a lot of friends. She was never forbidden to see them and she could go whenever as long as she was telling him where and with who she was , never turning her location off and always answering his calls and messages.
He had no problem with it , after all he followed her around secretly. She found out maybe 2 times out of 102.
Damiano is a type of ' a small circle of close friends and wide circle of acquaintances ' person. Victoria , Thomas and Ethan witnessed many fights of theirs.
Y/Ns best friend Y/Bsf/N as well.
The 4 of them would often exchange worried looks on their faces as Y/N would throw things at Damiano and he would shout such filthy and problematic stuff at her.
Ethan and Victoria had an intern joke that soon became something they rarely mention cause in each da they became more and more concerned for their friends.
" I don't need to watch porn , all I need to do is imagine Y/N and Damiano fucking after fight. "
Everyone thought that it was a phase these two lost themselves in. But it was not.
And it never got worse , it was always the same old tiring stuff between them.
Both of them where hard smokers , never considering doing drugs or overdosing with alcohol. Tho Damiano knew to drink beyond his abilities.
" If both of them would stop smoking , they could build two skyscrapers on the spot in one day. " Thomas and Y/Ns dad joked oftenly.
Thomas was the closest to Y/N out of the other band members. Damiano was never jealous of him neither did he felt like he could ruin their relationship.
First reason was that Thomas was the one who met them and thanks to who Damiano found the love of his life.
Second reason was that Thomas was beyond scared to even try thinking of doing something more than friendly to Y/N.
Victoria and Y/N had such a great friendship indeed. Having rare but meaningful girls night and sleepovers and rants about everything.
They cooked , went in shopping and shared topics about everything together.
Victoria was there for Y/N so many times listening to her cry on her shoulder about Damiano being an asshole.
Ethan was a huge softie for Y/N , he saw role model in her and he had just an amazing amount of respect for her. There was so much adoration between these two.
Damianos and Y/Ns sex life was yet another (not so much surprisingly) aggressive but consentive thing in their relationship.
It was built on mutual respect towards their partners needs. Simple as that is Damiano would never do and has never done something to make Y/N uncomfortable , same goes for her to him.
Before even sleeping together for the first time they detailedly talked about everything they where and where not interested in.
Their sex was rough, fast , aggressive , filled with degradation coming from his side.
Damiano was a switch top , but when it came to his so to say submissive side , it was expressed in very small amounts .
He loved being in charge , he was very flexible and he loved to use his tongue a lot , he loves to blindfold her and torture her , he loves slapping and biting into her soft creamy skin , shoulders , neck and chest especially.
He loved when Y/N left marks on his back and thighs from her sharp nails , he loved how she took good care of her hygiene and now she smelled.
He loved her hair and loved to squish her thighs. Did I mentioned he was into biting?
Y/N was flexible when it came to kinks , but she was definitely a switch bottom , it was just that she wasn't interested in being dominant and there was no need for it in her opinion.
She knew how to seduce Damiano , she knew very well.
After each time they slept together , regardless if it was fucking to realise all that stress or if it was love making he would always , but always ask her the same.
'Was it good , how are you feeling mio amore?'
Mio amore or simply amore was his favourite nickname for her . Aftercare was huge kink for them.
Damiano was not into letting Y/N leave visible marks on him , neither was he so much into marking her visible spots but sometimes when rage blinds him her porcelain heck is his canvas.
He loved planned dates and he loved bringing her various flowers every third or forth day. He never forgot about a single special day of theirs and he sometimes remembers the birthdays of her family members even before her.
He loved , and i mean loved spoiling her with gifts. Y/N also loved giving him gifts but more than that she loved to cook with him some delicious and various meals.
Damiano and Y/N where not near the perfect. But they where madly in love. And no one could ever take that away from them
A/N sooo as i sad on the beginning this is my personal view of the relationship these to have going on. This was in fact inspired by my personal experience and i want this story not fully to be a smut or nsfw but a kinda lovey one , just wanna say this is not kind of behaviour you should tolerate or romanticize !
#damiano david#damiano maneskin#maneskin#eurovision#eurosong#eurovision 2021#eurovision italy#victoria de angelis#ethan torchio#thomas raggi#relationship#toxic behavior#fanfic#toxic relationship#slight smut#slight angst#smut#zitti e buoni#love
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