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#hi sorry this just sUrGed through my mind when i had a similar moment in the meeting i just had. like wow bless the person in my class
marvelstarker-mha98 · 6 months
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The Runaway Distance Life Of A Little Stark chapter 24: The Last Goodbye
Pairing: Tony Stark & daughter!Reader, Dr. Cho & Tony stark, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark
Summary: Tony and reader having heart to-heart talk warning: You have to read completely Co author with: callikc Previous Tag:  @venomsvl  @geeksareunique
The first thing Tony felt when he woke up was a painful migraine, a weight at the corner of his mind that somehow seemed heavier than his entire body.
Everything hurt, and yet, even in the glum room, the ticking had a relaxed feeling, as if it were a heart-beat at rest. He was in the medical bay. One of them anyway.
There were voices too. Quiet and murmured, but close all the same. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he made sense of Dr. Cho and Bruce talking in the hushed whispers.
"No..." Dr. Cho was saying. "It's my responsibility to tell him."
Tony frowned, trying to turn to face them properly. Even that simple action hurt.
"Tell me what?" He managed to speak up in a croaky and strained voice.
The two were startled and turned to him with the same expressions of surprise and sudden guilt. Bruce looked pained, and Dr. Cho had a similar secretive yet sad look about her.
No one said a word.
Tony tried to sit up and ask again but grimaced as a sharp pain shot through his body. He held his abdomen and looked down to find a red-stained bandage wrapped around his middle.
"Well, shit." He mused, falling back on the bed.
"Yeah, I wouldn't do that." Bruce advised, doing his best to smile. "You got hurt pretty bad out there."
"I'm fine. Just a sting. I don't feel any..."
He trailed off as his mind was suddenly overcome by flashes of the fight with the masked man. The blows, the stabbing, and the words exchanged all came surging back as clear as day.
You were hurt too, far worse than he was. The last memory he had was of you in tortured pain, bleeding out.
"(Y/n)!" He exclaimed, looking over to Dr. Cho. "How is she?"
But he didn't get an answer, simply the same look of sorrow as earlier.
"Come on, don't hold out on me now, Doc." He said, attempting to lighten the mood.
It was as if the air was trying to suffocate the room. It was just so thin and heavy at the same time.
"She's in another recovery room." Dr. Cho explained. "Agent Barton is watching over her."
Relieved, Tony finally relaxed. A recovery room was always a good sign.
"Tony..." Dr. Cho hesitated, clearly conflicted on her own thoughts. "She's in critical condition. I'm sorry."
The relief crashed.
"But..." He struggled to figure out what to say or ask first. "But you said 'recovery room', what else is it for?"
"She's there because we did all we could and the rest is simply up to her. I removed a bullet from a shoulder wound inflicted a few hours before the other incident, but when I tried to reach the one in her abdomen we discovered it had broken and split. There was... There was an unidentified substance leaking from the fragments. We think it's poison."
"Then cure her!"
"Tony, we can't administer a cure without knowing what the problem is. A sample would've helped but whatever it was had already entered her bloodstream. It's damaged her organs."
"What..." His voice was now starting to crack from how quiet he had become. "What are you saying?"
"I'm so sorry. We don't know if she'll make it."
No. That wasn't good enough.
Without even thinking about his actions, Tony struggled to his feet and stumbled his way past them and to the door.
"Tony!" Bruce called.
It was futile. He wasn't listening to them. He didn't stop until he was right in front of the elevator and pressing the button desperately.
Of course it would be when he needed it the most that others were using it. It was moving too slowly. With every second wasted, you could be slipping away.
He wasn't there. He should have been, but he wasn't. Again.
His injury was starting to play up now, causing him to mutter and curse under his breath as he got more and more impatient with each floor the elevator stopped on.
He couldn't help but remember that moment. You were so close. He could see your smile through the pouring rain and the harsh winds, he could have reached out and wrapped you in a hug right then and there. But he was too late.
He remembered the bang of the shot and you collapsing on the hard ground. He remembered fighting the man and then feeling the knife plunge into his own skin. Now of course he was stuck with Dr. Cho's words.
'We don't know if she'll make it.'
With just one sentence his world was crashing down all over again.
"Tony!"
He turned around to find her and Bruce finally catching up, both breathless. He didn't realize how fast he'd been walking.
"I need you to listen to me!" Dr. Cho insisted, coming to a stop in front of him.
"No, you're lying!" He snapped. "She's not gonna die! Not after all this! Not after all the hell she went through!"
"Enough!" Bruce ordered, uncharacteristically grabbing Tony by the shoulder and forcing him to turn his way instead. "She's not lying, Tony. I looked at (Y/n) myself and it's true. I'm truly sorry, but under the circumstances... It's dire at best."
Tony wanted to fight and argue, to insist it was all some ridiculous scheme cooked up for twisted humor, but Bruce wouldn't do that to him. To anyone for that matter. If he could trust anyone to be truthful, it would be him.
You were dying.
He let out a choked sob, hands over his middle as he fell to his knees. Bruce cautiously wrapped his arms around Tony's shoulders, the billionaire shaking as he took it all in.
"I'm sorry." Bruce whispered.
Tony closed his eyes tightly as the tears fell, holding onto his friend's arms as he cursed and cried. "What am I supposed to do?" He trembled.
"There isn't anything to do." Bruce confessed. "What happens next is entirely up to (Y/n)."
"But she's my kid! I can't lose her again... I'm supposed to protect her from the world and all I've done is let it destroy her."
"No, Tony. You've done the best you can, and you never stopped looking for her. That's the only thing any parent can do."
Despite his friend's assurances, all Tony could hear were Dr. Cho's words telling him you were going to die, and the masked man taunting him about the very same thing.
-
Back in the present, Tony was standing in the doorway with labored breathing. He had both hands over his bandaged wound as the stabs of pain kept spiking up.
"Dad..."
You looked so vulnerable from his point of view. The machines connected to your stomach looked far too complicated and horrible, and the slow beat of your heart on the monitors was more haunting than reassuring.
"We'll give you some time." Dr. Cho spoke up, smiling sadly.
Tony entered the room slowly and unsurely, and with each step feeling like the weight of the world. The door soon closed behind him, leaving only the two of you in the room.
"Miss me?" You asked in a meek voice.
Tony couldn't speak at first. He just managed a shaky nod as his eyes sparkled with tears again. He practically fell into the chair at your bedside.
"Can I..." He hesitated, worried that you wouldn't be happy to see him or that you were too hurt. "You know..."
You knew what he was trying to ask and nodded. "I'd like a hug, yeah."
Relieved, he quickly wrapped his arms around you. You did the same, unable to believe that you finally got the chance. When you were sixteen, this didn't seem possible, all you did was fight and bicker. You couldn't believe it took years of separation to finally appreciate each other.
You stayed as you were for what felt like forever. You were afraid to let go now. You knew you didn't have long, and you were okay with that in the long run, but this moment felt too perfect - too fulfilling - to let go. You just had so much to say.
"I'm sorry." You whispered, closing your eyes tightly.
Tony held you close, shaking his head lightly. "You have nothing to be sorry for, (Y/n)."
"But I do." You reluctantly pulled back so you could look him in the eyes. "I left with no warning, scared everyone, scared myself."
"It's okay-"
"But it's not, though. Everyone says it is, but I was a stupid kid who got scared and chose the easy way out. Even after-" You paused, wincing at the memories. "After you dealt with Obadiah and everything, I should've come home. But I didn't. I got paranoid and I didn't want the people I cared about getting hurt."
He didn't reply for a moment, considering your words. Then, with a light sigh, he nodded.
"I can't lie and say I wasn't mad, because I was." He confessed. "But when I found out why, I realized it was my fault."
You went to argue but he held up a hand to stop you.
"It's the truth." He continued. "I was so harsh on you, I never... I wasn't a dad. I realized how much I missed out on and I wanted to fix it so I didn't end up like my old man. And you're here now and it's good. You got scared and that's okay, you still managed to look after yourself. I do think SHIELD was a poor career choice but you do you."
You choked out a laugh. "That's the part you're concerned about?"
"Have you even seen the conditions in those places? Disgusting. And cheap."
"Maybe. But it wasn't all bad. I had people, and Fury always looked out for me."
That was another thing Tony didn't like. He was annoyed and even jealous that Fury was the one who was there when he couldn't be. Fury was the one who got to talk to you every day and see all your work, not him.
"Well, you're fine now." He said, trying to focus on the happier aspects of the situation. "You're home, and you're - you will be - okay."
Your smile fell.
He knew.
It was the way he said the words with such... Diffidence. Self-distrust. The way he had suddenly looked away and forced any tears away.
He knew you weren't going to make it.
You tried to smile again but it was weak and small, the epitome of hopelessness. "I'm not."
Tony looked back at you, a little surprised. "Hey, of course you are."
"No." You shook your head. "I know I'm not fine. I know I'm dying. I'm checking out, biting the dust, the whole shebang."
How was he supposed to react?
How was he supposed to try and pretend you weren't stating facts?
How was he supposed to live with himself knowing by that time tomorrow you'd be nothing but a memory?
So he didn't say anything. He simply looked down and held your hand in silence.
"I'm sorry." He whispered tearfully.
"Everyone is apparently." You mused, still hoping to keep the topic light.
"(Y/n), I-" Once again, the words fell short. "This wasn't supposed to happen. It was - It wasn't supposed to go this way. You weren't supposed to get hurt."
"Look, I don't regret what I've been through. I've had ups and downs, super highs and some really low lows, but they all led me here, back to you. That's all I care about. You don't have to be sorry for that because I'm definitely not. I forgave you a long time ago."
But the words only hurt more. It made facing the upcoming hours even harder than they were meant to be.
"You shouldn't." He said, still unable to meet your eyes again. "I don't deserve it. I'm arrogant and selfish and I never listened. I spent time with so many different people yet somehow forgot about the most important of all. I missed... All of it. Even when I realized my mistakes I couldn't fix them. I couldn't save you."
"Maybe that matters, and maybe it doesn't. It's true you were arrogant and selfish, got around and cared for no one but yourself, but you've changed."
You remembered being a teenager, pissed off and confused about why your own dad spent all his time with literally anybody but you. He seemed to have more of a connection with his hookups than his own daughter. If it wasn't plain ignorance and loathing, it was parties or business or personal projects. Something always seemed to come up when you tried to act like a real family.
"Yeah, you're different." You decided, looking down at your hand in his. It made you smile. "Since starting the hero craze, you changed for the better."
You remembered finding out your dad was Iron Man. The shock and disbelief and pure awe had lingered for days afterwards. You remembered being oddly prideful at one point, though you didn't really want to admit it to yourself back then.
"I was proud, you know." You admitted. "I mean, how many people can brag about their dad being a goddamn superhero? I was still angry of course, but... Yeah. I was happy too. You were out there protecting the entire planet. You fought the bad guys and protected the good. You helped people who couldn't help themselves, you saved them, gave them a chance few ever get."
You remembered reading all the articles about the one and only Tony Stark becoming a hero to the people. All the donations and support he offered for the people affected by tragedies. The sheer amount of people who still had their lives because he was the one there to protect them. In particular, you thought about Peter and Harley. Your dad helped them before you met them. Because of him, you got to befriend two of the brightest minds to grace the world.
"And you seemed so happy." You added. "You scored a family, you finally got with Pepper, you founded a better world..."
You remembered wandering the city streets and coming across the entire team once. They were hanging around just as normal friends did, laughing and teasing each other without a care in the world. While you had been so happy for them, you couldn't keep away the envy either. It was like some kind of cruel irony, the universe letting you get so close and yet so far. There were so many times you could have just reached out and called his name.
"I stayed the same." You whispered, closing your eyes for a second. "I was still a coward, the scared little brat that thought running was the only way to fix things. But even with that, I still don't regret a thing. I lived my life my own way and that's all that matters. I don't care how short it was."
Tony listened to every word, simply letting you express everything. He had spent your entire life thinking you despised him just as he hated his own father, only to just now be corrected. While you insisted your life wasn't wasted, he couldn't help thinking that his was.
"My mission was dangerous." You said. "I knew I had to infiltrate a compromised agency and retrieve a dangerous artifact, but I did it anyway. I knew it would end badly if I messed up, but I accepted it. I didn't know if it was the right thing to do, but it got me here."
He finally looked up, his expression almost heartbroken. "What do you mean? The right thing?"
"Yeah." You shrugged, but regretted it when a sudden wave of pain washed over you. You tried not to react. "For years I put it off because I didn't know if you wanted me back. I didn't know if I was worthy of being your kid. I didn't know if you even wanted me at all, that you probably regretted me being born in the first place."
You remembered pulling your hand away every time you saw him because you simply didn't want to ruin his newfound happiness. You had convinced yourself you were both better off apart. After all, you had the Parkers as family. You had Coulson and his team as friends. You had your own happiness.
"I don't regret anything." Tony said, bringing you back to the present. "I've made so many mistakes it would take all the resources in the world to list them, but you aren't one of them. You never were. (Y/n), you're my... You're my greatest creation. You've saved me."
You had to wait a moment as the words processed. Involuntary tears began to well in your eyes as it set in that he truly loved you after all.
"I kept it, you know." He added.
"Kept what?" You asked quietly.
"The necklace."
You watched as he used the hand that wasn't holding yours to move the collar of his shirt to the side. You saw the chain around his neck and felt a strange warmth deep in your heart.
"I won't take it off. I... I can't." He confessed. "I thought you might come back for it. It kept you close. And it confused Loki the Great Horned One."
You tilted your head curiously. "It what?"
"Yeah, he had a few performance issues. Or maybe it was just an off day. Either way, I'm glad I had it."
Your tears began to fall. You felt too emotionally and physically weak to stop them. In fact, you felt tired. Some sleep would be nice.
Seeing you cry made Tony hate the circumstances even more as he carefully cupped your cheek.
"You've always been with me."
He smiled and kissed the top of your head softly.
"I'm sorry for not being there. I didn't get to see the important bits, to watch you become... You. You were as beautiful as your mother but I thought you'd just end up like me. I didn't want that for any kid."
Your tears were coming faster. Partly because you were so sad and happy at the same time, but also because you were starting to feel weaker.
Something was wrong. You didn't have long left.
You could feel your limbs aching, the urge to relax, your eyelids fighting the choice to remain open. Your body was done.
Using all the strength you had left, you gripped his shirt. You were scared.
"I need you, Dad." You said. "I need you safe and well and happy. I need you to be okay because that's the only thing that's gonna keep me from going crazy right now."
"Don't worry about me, sweetheart." He said. "Just stay with me, alright? Keep looking at me. You're safe, and you're gonna be fine. I've got you now, and I'm not letting go. I'm always going to protect you. You're my life."
"Promise me. Promise that when I'm gone you won't be sad... That you won't push Pepper away or leave the Avengers... That you'll live. I need you to do that for me. Don't waste your life because mine ended. It's too precious."
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The words hit him like a brick, and suddenly he was back in Afghanistan with Yinsen telling him the same thing. He was overwhelmed with the sudden emotion and embraced you tightly, hoping that as long as he could hold you, you couldn't slip away.
"I will." He promised. "I will, babygirl."
Although you didn't want to, you had to let go.
"Dad?" You whispered.
"Y-Yeah?"
"I... Love you... 3000."
The words froze him in place.
When you were a kid, you didn't understand why he wasn't there all the time and you had to come up with numbers to try and emphasize how much you missed him.
All Tony could do was watch helplessly as your grip loosened and your eyes slowly shut. He wanted to beg you to come back but his throat had turned to sandpaper.
And then the flatline filled the room.
"N-No..." He shook his head, pulling you close again. "No!"
He cried and sobbed and rocked back and forth with your body cradled against his.
It was over. All of it.
You were gone.
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chaosmax · 3 years
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Alright I know I already made a post about the friendship denying character(tm) before but short new ramble again. (Also please don’t tag this as any ships, that isn’t what this is about)
Another thing that kind of character does is deny offers for help and feel that no one will / can / should help --
Isolation and lack of self-worth, or feeling like a burden or a bother like what you have to offer in return pales in comparison to what other people have to offer and that people wouldn’t want to put up with that because it’s not a fair trade. Or even the sense of responsibility that after standing alone for so long you have to continue. That, “I’ve done this/been fine alone before, so I should be able to do it again” mentality and that your worth is dictated by what you can do on your own.
I know we, as media consumers, tend to poke light fun at the characters that keep on denying help or teamwork when its been proven to them that it does work. They’ve seen it in action and/or participated in it themselves-- and yet they seem to keep having to re-learn this lesson. It may seem foolish, or illogical to an outsider looking in--the proof of it working is right there buddy, don’t you get it already?
I feel it’s a lesson many people have to keep reminding themselves of (myself included) and that can be tricky especially when there’s large gaps of being independent, and then once more needing to lean on someone else/others again. It worked before, sure. But will it work again? Or will they take that away?
Kaiba, in a aggressive way denies the hands that reach out to try and help him. He doesn’t even explain his predicament with Pegasus to Yugi and Co. instead he jumps right into fighting them to get to Mokuba. He’s annoyed that they come to help Mokuba save him in the Legendary Heroes arc. The Tag duel against Lumious and Umbra, Kaiba refuses to work with Yami for the longest time even though that’s the literal point of a tag duel, he goes off on his own to save Mokuba from Noah despite them helping save Mokuba a bunch of times before. He gives Yugi/Atem Devil’s sanctuary with not much hope of it actually working at first-- it’s just a probability enhancer to defeating Marik. 
Despite the idea of being able to depend on others and bonds has been just about beaten over his head, again and again his first reaction is to deny it, push it away.
Until: (Take this first one with a grain of salt because it’s filler arc) The duel against Dartz. The first turn move is literally to summon a FUSION monster of two of their strongest cards, a literal representation of unity. It’s a start. A hint. And then he’s back arguing with Atem over attacking the mirror knights etc.
(Disregarding filler) Until: DSoD. As Diva comes back to fight Seto and Yugi once more, this time its Kaiba that extends the offer to team up. “Do you still have the strength to fight?” (and sorry can’t remember if this is dub or sub line but either way, Kaiba spoke first) To which Yugi falls right in agreement with the plan to tag duel. With a bit of a hesitant grin, as if it’s a pleasant surprise.
This doesn’t mean from then on Kaiba will be jumping at the opportunity to collaborate, things aren’t that easy it’s an ongoing struggle and battle, and this doesn’t mean people have to change for others. It’s a continual work in progress.
I suppose my main point with all this is-- it may seem like a redundant lesson, it may seem foolish that characters have to keep relearning something, falling back into old habits, and relearning again--but to me, it’s also realistic and telling of a character. When you’ve been so stuck in a mindset of needing to be independent/self-sufficient the idea of people genuinely wanting to help without wanting something out of you in return, or the idea that you can both help each other for the betterment of all parties, it feels foreign. Like an unrealistic dream. An illusion, maybe even trick. It’s hard to get out of that mode of thinking. But when you do, even just slightly, you get struck with a slight re-epiphany when you realize you’re not quite on an island as much as it feels you are-- Oh. People are willing to genuinely help.
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parkersbliss · 3 years
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Tough | K. Brekker
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pairing: kaz brekker x reader
warnings: blood, cursing, kaz being a simp
wc; 2K
synopsis: mission gone wrong… gone right?
prompts: 028: “hey, hey, hey, I’m right here.” 030: “you could’ve died!”
a/n: I don’t know how I always end up so off track
Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List
“This is ridiculous,” Jesper hisses, looking between you and Inej. “Someone tell him that!”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell Kaz to back out of a job? No way.”
“I prefer to keep my head,” Inej said.
Jesper rolls his eyes. “You’ll lose it either way at this point!”
“Jesper, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not! Do you realize how-”
“Shut up, Jesper,” Kaz scowled through the earpiece.
Jesper mumbles something under his breath, but you don’t catch it.
“How’s everything looking, Kaz?” Inej asked.
“One last round of guards, and then you two can come in.”
You nod, securing your gun in place as you stand up.
“If you two don’t come back, I told you so!” Jesper said.
“If we don’t come back, we probably ditched you,” You quip back.
Jesper scoffs, standing up. “At least I still have Wylan.”
“No, you don’t,” Wylan responded through the earpiece.
Jesper throws his hands in the air, “No one appreciates the voice of wisdom around here.”
“(Y/N), Inej, go.”
Inej takes the lead, climbing the gate and dropping safely on the other side. You follow after and make a run for the main entrance. You hide behind a column, holding your breath as two guards walk back to their posts. A hand sticks out from the opposite column on you, and Inej makes a hand signal that means go.
With what you hope are quiet footsteps, you emerge from behind the column and follow Inej to the hallway to the left. You patiently wait as two Grisha emerge from the bedrooms, and in the span of a few seconds, it takes the door to close; you both rush in.
Inej opens the closet, throwing you a kefta, and you gasp at the softness of the fabric.
“Do you think we can keep these?” You jokingly ask.
“Unless you want to be an even bigger target in Ketterdam: I’d advise not.”
“They’re bulletproof and warm,” You said, slipping on the blue kefta with red and yellow detailing.
Inej only hums as she slips hers on, which has green swirls embellished on it.
“Tidemaker,” You said.
“Inferni,” Inej replied. “Suits you.”
You both walk out of the bedroom, the kefta’s making it easier to walk through the palace undetected. The Grisha all automatically assumed you belonged there. They didn’t bother to take a good look at your face.
“Status?” Kaz asked.
“On track,” You said softly, passing by two Grisha’s.
Kaz nods on his side, dressed as a guard inside of the palace. He waits patiently by the door for the two of you. He can just barely spot Wylan in the distance, acting as a servant to the Queen.
She was too stuck up to ever notice or acknowledge any of the servant's names. Similar to the Mercher’s back in Ketterdam.
What snobs they are.
Kaz watches as you and Inej round the corner. The Kefta’s fit both of you surprisingly well. He nods at you two, giving Wylan one last glance before going to unlock the Queen’s room. His fingers and quick, and the lock cracks open in a few seconds.
In those few seconds, someone screams. You can hear Wylan laughing nervously before being pinned down by a guard.
Kaz instantly stops what he’s doing as you all watch the scene unfold. They disarm him, grabbing a remote and throwing it across the floor.
“Get back!” Kaz shouts as the button lands first onto the ground. There’s a moment of silence, utter stillness as you and Inej look toward the Queen’s room, and then it explodes. The blast echoes through the castle and shatters everything. Pieces of rumble rain down as the building begins to shake.
You slam against the adjacent wall, coughing at the dust and groaning. Blood trickles down from your forehead, and your entire body aches.
A low moan catches your attention, and you look up to see a crystal chandelier, cracks surrounding the ceiling it was attached to.
“(Y/N)!” You can hear Kaz scream as it gives way.
You don’t have enough time to get away, you know that. Your vision was still blurry, a loud ringing in your ears. You were too disoriented to even comprehend the idea of being pierced with the decorative piece.
But Kaz isn’t.
He lunges forward, tackling you to the opposite end and shielding you with his body. He’s holding his breath the entire time, counting in his head and reminding himself that it’s just you. If he lets go, then you’ll be dead.
Don’t let go. He repeats it like a mantra inside his head, focusing on the sound of glass shattering as you both skid across the floor.
Sharp glass shards pierce his jacket and skin, but he’s barely fazed by it. It gives him something else to focus on other than the feeling of you.
“Don’t move,” You said quietly, and you can see his eyes widen because by saints he needs to, or he’s going to pass out. “Kaz, if you move, you’re going to push a piece of glass further into yourself.”
He starts shaking his head because the feeling of you breathing under him is overwhelming. Your voice had snapped him out of his daze, and now he was fully aware and fully scared. He doesn't know why. It's you and you were the one person he wishes he could be able to touch, but right now, he can't.
“I can’t,” He whispers.
“Kaz, don’t.”
“Please.”
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here,” You assure. “I’m alive, okay? Just breathe slowly until I can get out.”
Kaz closes his eyes and breathes deeply. Every nerve in his body is screaming. It’s worse than the shard of glass sticking out of him. He can’t do it.
“Kaz!” You scream as he rolls off of you and onto the floor.
Almost instantly, the glass pierces through him, and he groans. There’s a huge shard sticking out of his stomach, and you can feel panic surging through you.
Your instincts overwhelm the pain, and your senses come rushing back to you. There’s no way you can grab the glass without cutting yourself in the process, and Kaz would bleed out before you can do anything.
“Kaz Brekker, don’t you dare die on me.”
“I’m not trying to,” He hisses back.
“Inej!” You shout, searching for the Suli girl through the rubble.
“A healer,” Kaz coughs out. “You look Grisha, call for a healer.”
You blink, still amazed how Kaz’s mind is still working, before standing up. “Healer!”
On cue, a girl with a red kefta and silver detailing runs over from the area where Wylan was. You don’t want to imagine how many others are hurt. Behind her is Inej, who nods at you, and you thank the saints for her.
“I need to get the glass out," The healer said.
You look at her, then back to Kaz. “Okay. I can do that. Trust me."
“What you did was stupid,” You said to Kaz, kneeling down by his side once more.
“You were going to die,” he protests weakly.
You slowly grip the glass tightly, trying to ignore the sharp sting of it as the jagged sides cut through your skin.
“You could’ve died!” You scowl, but Kaz could hear the fear in your voice. “You still could.”
“It’s better me than you.”
“No, it isn’t,” You reply, “Kaz, how can you not see it?”
“See what?”
“That I'm in love with you!”
His eyes widen, and at that moment, you grab the glass and yank it out. Kaz screams out in pain, shutting his eyes. “Fuck!”
It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him curse.
The healer jumps into action. She leans over Kaz, and with a single motion of her hand, stitches him up.
She looks at you, and before you can say anything, she heals the cut on your forehead and the gashes on your hands.
“Thank you,” You said.
She nods, and Inej thanks her as well before turning her attention back to you and Kaz. “We need to go, like now. Wylan’s already running out the door as we speak.”
You nod, looking to Kaz. “Okay, can you walk?”
Inej hands him his cane, and he uses it to steady himself. “I can.”
“Okay… can you run?”
“I don’t think we have much of a choice,” Inej said, tugging on your kefta and gesturing to the guards eyeing you down.
“We’re running!” You announce, taking off with Inej and Kaz on your heels. The guards immediately start pursuing you, and you try to lose them in the many hallways.
“Where the hell is Jesper when you need him?”
“Right here!”
“I’m here as well!” Nina shouts, coming to a stop behind him. “The Kefta’s suit you two.”
“Thanks.”
Jesper winks before beginning to fire as Nina drops their heart rate.
“I take it the mission was unsuccessful?” Nina asked, turning to run when the guards become too many.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Jesper said.
“I would,” Kaz seethed.
“Yes, well, you happen to be the most pessimistic person here,” Jesper replied, firing a shot at an approaching guard.
“(Y/N) confessed her love for Kaz,” Inej said through labored breaths, finally reaching the exit.
Nina whirls to face you, “What?”
“About damn time,” Jesper grumbled, ignoring the look Kaz gives him.
You roll your eyes at him, grateful to see your getaway carriage on time.
“And then she pulled a piece of glass out of him,” Inej added, opening the door and hopping into the carriage.
“Oh wow, that’s really the cherry on top of it, isn’t it?” Jesper asked sarcastically.
“You guys are the only people that gossip while being chased down with guns,” Your driver, Matthias, chuckled.
“When else are we supposed to be doing it?” Nina asked, getting into the seat next to him and grabbing the reins.
“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there’s a time and place for it. I’ll stop being a criminal and getting chased now,” You sassily replied, climbing in behind Kaz.
“Just go!”
Nina and Matthias don’t have to be told twice, and you all take off, leaving empty-handed, or so you thought.
Jesper and Wylan sit across from Inej, you, and Kaz. The curly-haired boy holds a bag tightly to his chest, and you’re not oblivious to it.
“What’s in the bag?” Inej asked.
Jesper grins. “Why thank you for asking. Care to share, Wylan?”
The boy rolls his eyes and opens the bag, revealing a crown.
“Oh my god,” You gasp.
“I told you we weren’t leaving empty-handed,” Jesper smirks, leaning back and ruffling his boyfriend's hair.
“How?” Kaz asked.
“Stole it from the queen after the explosion and quite literally ran for my life.”
“We taught him well.”
The ride back to Os Kervo is long, and most of the Dregs fall asleep, except for Nina and Matthias, of course.
Inej rests her head against the window, using her hoodie and scarf as a pillow. Jesper does the same, with Wylan resting on his shoulder.
However, you’re wide awake, not finding a comfortable position to sleep in.
“Did you mean it?” Kaz whispered, turning to face you.
His features stick out more in the moonlight, casting sharp shadows across his face. His blue eyes feel like they're piercing you in a single gaze.
“Mean what?”
“What you said before you yanked the glass out of me, or was it just a distraction?”
“Oh,” You said softly. “I meant it.”
“I mean it too.”
You raise a questioning eyebrow at him.
Kaz realizes he has to say it back. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he felt like a child once again. There were butterflies in his stomach as he speaks. “I love you too.”
“Is that so?” You ask, a slightly teasing tone to your voice, and he knows it.
“I don’t risk my life for just anyone.”
“No, I suppose you wouldn’t.”
“I also don’t offer my shoulder to sleep on to anyone.”
Your eyes brighten. “Kaz?”
He gives you a small smile, “I can take it.”
“Are you sure?”
“If it means both of us get some shut-eye, yes.”
A slow smile spread across your face as you pull up your own hoodie, having shed the Kefta long ago. It was too bulky for you.
You slowly let your head fall onto his shoulder, and his breathing stutters for a brief moment before relaxing again when he can feel your heartbeat. It should freak him out, and it does, but he stays strong. That’s what you do for the people you love.
You tough it out.
That, and Kaz falls asleep a few moments later with his own head resting on yours.
— END —
🏷 Kaz Brekker Taglist: @ms-awkward @kykymyeon @alcottsangel @kaqua
want to be added? click here!
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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years
Text
If I Could (Drew Starkey)
Author's Notes: All I want to do is party with the cast of OBX. This is a similar formula to Tonight, where Drew and the new show writer have a new relationship. So if that's your style I hope you like this! Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you for your support! xoxo
Warnings: Sexual innuendos, references to sex - sexual language, Drinking, mentions of drug use, and brief drug use. It gets a littttttttle smutty, but no actual sex - I left that out.
Requested? NO. Requests are open for OBX characters.
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
It was too beautiful of a night to stay inside, so the cast decided to bring their drinks outside to the parking lot of their apartment complex for a small party outside.
"Drew Starkey!"Madelyn yelled as she stumbled over to him with a bottle of wine in her hands.
"Madelyn Cline." Drew laughed as he reached a hand out for her to take.
"Why aren't you over there with her? What's going on with you two?" Madelyn asked as she brought the bottle to her lips. She stared at her friend expectantly. She knew he liked the new show writer, and she knew the feeling was beyond mutual for the man who played Rafe Cameron.
"I mean, we're hanging out." Drew replied as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes fixed on the woman across the lot.
"I hang out with a lot of people, but I don't see or touch their vagina." Madelyn scoffed with a roll of her eyes.
"Maddie." Drew laughed as she stared up at the sky. His friend wasn't entirely wrong. He didn't have a lot, or any, friends that he had an overtly sexual relationship with other than Her.
"She's not wrong, man. You're rocked up like, one hundred percent of the time she's around." Rudy replied as he walked over, a joint behind his ear.
"I'm not rocked up. Fuck you." Drew scoffed as he ran his free hand through his hair while the other clutched his tumbler of whiskey.
"Sure about that?" Chase grinned as his hands made a move to hit Drew between his legs.
"Don't! I'll hit you back." Drew replied as he backed away from Chase's fist, his own hand balled and at the ready.
"What's going on here?" Came her giggle to Drew's left. His heart raced, and maybe he felt his pants tighten. But he wouldn't tell Rudy that.
"Hey." Drew smiled down at her as his arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders to pull her close.
"Hi." She replied softly as she wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him.
"Where's your drink?" Drew asked as he kept her against him, her body heat felt good despite the heat of the evening.
"I'm pretty sure JD stole it." She laughed as she reached her left hand up to press it to Drew's chest.
"Share mine?" Drew hummed as he took a sip of his whiskey then handed it to the woman under his arm. She graciously accepted his glass and took a sip as well.
"Thank you." She smiled up at him as she handed the drink back, their fingertips gently skimmed each other over the glass.
"You guys are fucking cute." Rudy grinned as he placed the joint between his lips then flicked his lighter.
"Like you and Elaine aren't gross and cute." She replied quickly with a roll of her eyes.
Drew smirked as he reached the arm that was around her shoulder down to her waist. He gave her a squeeze and pulled her chest to his.
"Come inside with me for a second? Get a new drink?" Drew smiled as he polished off his drink, then licked his lips.
"Okay." She smiled as she grabbed hold of his hand then pulled him towards the lobby of the apartment complex.
Inside the elevator once the doors closed Drew pressed her back against the wall of the elevator. He lowered his head down so his forehead touched her, his body propped up on one strong forearm.
"Finally." She sighed as she wrapped her arms around his torso, her hands on his back.
"Missed me, too? Drew asked as he brushed his nose against hers while his free hand reached for the frayed edges of her shorts.
"So much." She groaned as she stood on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. Drew breathed out a sigh of relief at the feel of her lips on his for the first time in hours. He gripped at her thigh as he leaned his body into hers to keep her pinned to the wall.
The elevator alerted them to their floor, Drew reluctantly pulled himself away from her. He grabbed her hand, pulled her out of the elevator and down the hallway to his apartment.
"What are you drinking, gorgeous? Pretty sure I have it all." Drew stated as he led them into his apartment and flicked on the lights to his kitchen.
Drew turned around to look at her when he didn't get a response and his heart sped up a little more in his chest at the sight of her.
"Nice panties." Drew stated flatly as he stared at the object of his affection in just a cropped top and a sheer black thong in his kitchen.
"Oh, thanks. I was going to ask to borrow some sweats." She blushed, as if she had not begun to undress herself in his foyer.
"Can't let you do that." Drew replied as he took a few large steps towards her. He grabbed at her backside with one hand and used his palm to pull her against him.
"No?" Her fingertips toyed with the buttons of his shirt anxiously. His heart swelled that she thought he would ever deny her. He could never.
Drew wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up onto his kitchen counter where he stood between her legs. He smiled as she squealed with laughter, her hands clutched at his shirt.
"No. Because first, I'm getting you of your clothes and then I'm not sure I'm going to let you put anything back on." Drew smirked as he placed his hands on either sides of her bare thighs.
"I like your plan better." She nodded with a deep breath as she shifted her body as close to him as she could on the counter.
"Wanna do it here?" Drew grinned with a raised eyebrow as he hooked his thumb beneath the strap of her underwear.
She surged forward to press her lips to his. Drew grunted while his fingers pressed into her thighs. He pulled her closer to him, their bodies as close as they could be give their barriers.
"You wanna have sex with me in your kitchen?" She asked when she let him breathe, his lips swollen.
"Sweetie, I would've had sex with you in the elevator if I could have." Drew panted as he placed his right on the small of her back.
Drew watched as she pulled off her cropped top, the space between them limited but he didn't mind. Her bra matched her panties and Drew thought he might combust as he looked her body up then down shamelessly.
"You're so fucking gorgeous." Drew muttered as he looked her over, half naked on his kitchen counter.
"No. You are, Drew." She replied as she tossed her arms around his neck once more.
Drew placed his hands on her thighs and leaned down to press his lips to hers again. He groaned when he felt her fingers start to unbutton his shirt.
"Drew." She breathed out when he rutted his hips into hers. She pulled at the last button his shirt and scratched her nails across his abdomen.
"Hey are you guys coming back...They're fucking! I knew it!" Rudy yelled as he walked into Drew's apartment unannounced, and spotted the woman wrapped around Drew.
"Rudy, get out." Drew glared, his voice a low growl in his chest. He pulled himself away from her briefly to show his bare chest to Rudy, broad and already covered in scratch marks.
"I knew it." Rudy whispered with a point of his finger as he stumbled out Drew's apartment, closing the door behind him.
"Drew..." She trailed as she tugged him back to her with a finger hooked in his chain.
"Yeah, sweetie. Sorry." Drew replied with a clear of his throat.
"You're hot when you're mad." She smiled as she tugged him down for a kiss by the gold chain around his neck.
Please let me know what you think if you have a moment, I know this one might be a little more blatantly sexual than the others. To be honest I toned this one back before posting it, there's parts I didn't even post at all. Please let me know what you think, as I do not want to cross boundaries/ make anyone uncomfortable. That's not what I'm here for. This one ends with Rudy sitting in the doorway and saying , "That was fucking hot" and Drew and Rudy wrestling in the hallway. So.... (you get a little bit of my version of drunk Rudy)
REQUESTS FOR OBX ARE OPEN!! Thank you for your support xoxo
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queensoybean0724 · 3 years
Text
Succession Chapter 8 (Karl Heisenberg/female reader) Resident Evil Village fanfic
Chapter 8 is here!
Title: Succession Chapter 8
Characters: Karl Heisenberg, female reader, OC
Rating: R for language and explicit gore (may be triggering with the descriptions of the bodies in the factory)
Summary: you discover a long lost relative has died and made you his sole beneficiary.  While flying to collect your inheritance, you crash in a village in Romania.
Author’s Note: I do not own the characters from Resident Evil Village. This is a work of fiction.  Anything remotely similar to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter 8
The soft tugging of your wrists woke you from sleep.  You blinked rapidly and looked up to see Heisenberg removing the cuffs and setting them on the floor.
“What are you doing?” you asked, bringing your hands close to your body and rubbing your wrists.
“Sorry to wake you,” Heisenberg murmured, “but I’m going to work for a while downstairs...didn’t want you to be shackled to the bed the whole time.  Do you need to use the bathroom before I go?”
You nodded your head, realizing you were in need of the facilities.  Standing slowly to your feet, you padded to the door and walked across the way into the bathroom.  Once you relieved yourself, you washed your hands and made your way back to the room.
“I’ll be down there for several hours,” Heisenberg said as he rinsed his hands in the sink, “I’ll probably skip lunch.  Help yourself to whatever is in the refrigerator.”
You thanked him and curled back up under the covers.  You couldn’t believe it, but this fucked-up picture of domesticity was starting to grow on you.  Last night’s dinner outside at sunset was quite pleasant.  Heisenberg didn’t talk much aside from the occasional grunt or nod if you said anything.  It seemed that something was weighing on his mind.  And when you asked him what he had been working on at his desk a few hours earlier, he once again told you to mind your business.
Heisenberg put on his hat, sunglasses, and trenchcoat and left without another word, closing the door behind him.
You fell asleep for another three hours before finally waking up and looking over at his clock on his nightstand.  The time read 11:46am.
Rising from the bed, you cooked yourself some breakfast and filled a mug full of water.  You ate leisurely and leafed through a fashion magazine that had been stuffed into one of the suitcases Heisenberg had brought from the crash site.  
Once you were finished with your plates, you washed them in the sink and put them away.  You had made up your mind that you were going to shower.  You hadn’t washed since Heisenberg brought you here and it was creeping up on day three...or was it day four...five maybe?  Either way, you needed to wash.
You gathered your shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and sponge.  You also reached for your razor and shaving cream.  It had been several days since you shaved your legs and you wanted to be clean and smooth...just in case…
No, you thought, not because of Heisenberg!  But because I want to get back to feeling normal again!
There were a couple of towels hanging over the windowed walls of the shower, no doubt used by Heisenberg himself.  You made a mental note to ask him for towels of your own when he got back…
Then it occurred to you.  When he left, he closed the door, but you didn’t hear the loud click that his key usually made in the lock...
He didn’t lock the door.
*
As you shaved and showered, you mentally weighed the pros and cons of whether or not you should leave Heisenberg’s living quarters.  He had never not locked the door.  Maybe whatever work he had planned was at the forefront of his mind and he had simply forgotten to lock the door.  Or maybe, just as he trusted you to go back and forth from the bathroom without him keeping watch over you, maybe he was starting to trust you not to leave the room.
The monotony of the room was starting to become boring...perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to walk around and stretch your legs.
You put on a pair of jeans, a long sleeved shirt, socks, and sneakers. Promising yourself that you wouldn’t walk too far, you opened the door quietly and peeked out into the hallway, looking right and left.  Heisenberg wasn’t in the vicinity.  The usual sounds of the factory rang out in the distance.  You strained your hearing to listen for footsteps.  Except for you, the area was empty.
Pushing the door all the way open, you stepped out into the hall.  You walked down the hallway, making sure to keep your steps light and quiet.  The pounding of your pulse was ringing in your ears and you were terrified of Heisenberg finding you outside of his living quarters.   He would not be happy with you if he could see you at that moment.
You walked to a closed door and opened it to see the suspended walkway you had run across on your first day.  The noises were louder as you looked out among the metal, chains, steam, and rotating bodies.  A large body of water was several feet below you.  You stood there for a minute and looked all around, afraid that Heisenberg would be nearby and see you on the walkway.
The coast was clear.  You quickened your pace as you walked, making sure to tiptoe.  You reached the door on the other side, pushing it open.
This was uncharted territory. You didn’t know what was around the corner and made a mental note of which way you turned, how many flights of stairs you went up and down, and factory signs.  The signs were written in Romanian, but you sounded them out in your head in hopes you would remember your way back.
Occasionally you would open a door or two along the way, poking your head in and scanning the rooms.  A part of you felt guilty...you were being invasive and nosy.  This was Heisenberg’s home and even though he was keeping you here against your will, you thought it unlikely that he would want you poking around in his factory.  You could picture him now:  his brows furrowing, his gloved hands balling into fists, and his mighty voice booming as he yelled at you to get back to his quarters.
Dear god, why did that turn you on?
You had descended stairs earlier and hadn’t seen another set in quite a while, so you assumed you were down in the dregs of the factory.  It started to feel warmer the further down you went.  Why wasn’t Heisenberg’s room down here instead of higher up where the cold slid in through the walls so effortlessly?
You turned a corner and came up to a heavy steel door that was slightly ajar.  Leaning forward, you peered down a dark hall...with bodies hanging along the right side.  “Oh my god…” you whispered.  You couldn’t tell whether they were alive or dead, but a gas mask sat over each of their mouths and they hung from a tight leather strap wrapped around the breastbone and up under their arms.  Their skin was pale and their eyes closed.
Keeping your back flat against the left side of the hallway, you quietly and slowly made your way across.  You counted in your head...one, two, three, four, five, six bodies spaced out along the hallway.  Was this part of the work that Heisenberg was doing around here?  You shook your head.  Why was he doing this?  What was he doing with all of these bodies?
Another steel door was at the end of the hall and you silently turned the knob and pushed it open.
Upon entering the large room, you gasped audibly, your eyes wide.  The place looked like a morgue.  Five steel tables sat in the room...with five more corpses lying on top of them.  They each looked recently dead, their skin not as pale as the men hanging in the hallway behind you.  Decomposition had not occured yet.  The bodies had various trauma to them.  One was missing an arm.  One had its left leg sewed on.  
The other three were fitted with a visor over their eyes.  They laid shirtless on the tables.  One was a woman, her bare breasts visible with a gaping hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be.  She was clothed from the waist down in a uniform that looked familiar...she was wearing a flight attendant’s uniform.  Could this be one of the attendants from your plane???
The other two bodies had something different over their left chest.  A circular metal contraption was lodged inside.  “What the fuck…” you murmured softly, walking amongst the carnage.  You were beginning to think that maybe you should have stayed inside Heisenberg’s quarters.
A door was opened on the other side of the room.  You crept towards it and looked inside.  The room stretched out before you and you could see a steel wall in the middle, separating one section of the room from the other.  A steel table stood next to the edge of the wall and you saw that you would have to circle it to see what was on the other side.  Swallowing the growing anxiety in your throat, you stepped closer.  
You reached the table and the wall and leaned forward, peering into the room.  Your mouth dropped, your eyes widened, and you gasped loudly.
“Bruce???”
Bruce Williams sat in what looked like a dentist’s chair, his body slumped forward.  A visor, just like the ones the three bodies were fitted with in the previous room, was also sitting over his eyes.  Three or four tubes were hanging from the ceiling and plugged into different areas on his body.  But the worst thing was his arm...the forearm from the elbow down was missing...and what replaced it was an electric saw.
A tear rolled down your cheek.  Oh, god, Bruce, you thought, what happened to you?
Before you were able to put two and two together, there was movement behind Bruce’s body.  An open door was against the back wall and Heisenberg entered the room, both of his hands holding surgical tools.  He stopped in his tracks when he looked up and saw you standing before Bruce.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Heisenberg growled, “how did you get out of my room?”
Panic, disbelief, and terror surged through your body.  You found yourself mourning for Bruce all over again and being gripped with fear over being caught...but even greater, fury had begun to make your blood boil.
“What is this?!?!” you cried out shrilly, “what are you doing to him???  Bruce...he was seated next to me on the plane!!!  OH DEAR GOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HIM???”  You took several steps back, your fingers gripping your hair.  This was not happening....this was not happening...you were dreaming again…
“Y/N, let me explain…” Heisenberg said, fastly approaching you, putting his tools down on the table.
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!” you screamed, turning on your heels and running out of the room.  You ran into one of the bodies on the table, your body falling forward.  Your chin touched its cold skin and you let out another loud scream.
“Y/N, stop!” Heisenberg commanded.  You felt him behind you, his hands gripping your shoulders.  You yelped and whirled around, shoving his body away from you.  You ran for the exit just as one of the tables with a body flew out in front of you, blocking your path.
Adrenaline was pumping through you and you quickly ran around the table and out of the door.  You ran down the hallway, ignoring the hanging bodies, your heart hammering in your chest.
“Y/N!!” Heisenberg yelled as he ran after you.  You were in total flight mode and you couldn’t remember which way was up.  The little notes you had jotted in your memory were long gone and you had no idea how to get out of the factory.
As you turned a corner, you saw a large industrial lift.  You darted inside, gripping the sliding elevator door from above, and pulled it down shut.  Looking over at the buttons, you hit the UP arrow rapidly in pure panic.
Heisenberg ran full force at the door, his fingers wrapping around the wooden railings.  You screamed loudly, scrambling back against the other side of the lift, pressing your back against the wall.
“Y/N!!” Heisenberg shouted, “Y/N, STOP!!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!!!”
The elevator lift began to ascend, putting more and more space between you and Heisenberg.  You could hear him shaking the wooden railings, screaming your name over and over.  Looking upwards, you watched with growing impatience as the lift slowly made its way higher and higher until it stopped at the very top.
There was a metal door before you with thin railings.  You looked between them to see a small field surrounded by a barbed wire fence.  The metal door was shut tight.  You started to kick at the door and shove your shoulder against it, desperate for it to open.  After what felt like several moments, you shoved your body once again and the door flew open.  You spilled into the grass and looked around wildly.  Where could you go?  Where could you hide?
You looked to the left and saw a small section of fence that was rusted and pushed back, creating a space that would allow you to escape.  Running as fast as your legs could take you, you pushed at the wire and slithered your body through the hole.  Jagged edges snagged your skin and your clothes, but you were too fueled by panic to worry about scratches.
After clearing the fence, you jumped to your feet and ran towards the trees and the mountains, desperate to get as far away from Heisenberg as you could.
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free-pool-trash · 3 years
Text
everything - peter maximoff
PART 2 TO DISAPPOINTMENT (you can read it on its own but it might be a tiny bit confusing)
hey guys, i missed peter and i hope this makes you guys feel better abt the first part of this fic <33
comments/reblogs/asks always appreciated <3
word count: 4k
warnings: angst, panic attack, fluff, probably some mistakes its 3:33am 😩✋🏻
summary: peter comes to your new reality <3
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His fingers drummed rapidly against the metal table located in the jet hanger, beneath the basketball court. Hank waited too, although, the beast was considerably calmer than Peter was at the moment.
“The radio has been quiet for like twenty minutes… do you think something went wrong?” Peter forced the words out in quick succession as he gnawed on his lips.
Hank sighed as that was the fourth time Peter had asked that question, every five minutes for the past twenty minutes- like clockwork, he’d asked Hank the same thing. The only varient was that the question started with, “It’s been five minutes...,” then, “It’s been ten minutes…,” to, “it’s been fifteen minutes…”
Hank understood that the boy was nervous, he was too, afterall Peter wasn’t the only one with a girlfriend on the uncharacteristically sketchy mission. However, if Peter asked him the same question one more time, he’d turn blue out of annoyance.
“Peter, I’m begging you to stop asking. They’re probably fine, the mutant’s energy surges probably just fried the radio,” Hank explained, trying to sound convincing for his and Peter’s peace of mind.
Peter gaped in response, “And that doesn’t worry you?”
Hank threw his head back with exhaustion and groaned, “Of course it does,” he started, running his hands down his face before continuing, “But stressing out about it isn’t going to do anyone any good. All we can do is wait for them to get back,” he finished, fixing Peter with a stern look as he’d began to bounce his knee relentlessly- annoyingly.
His fingers drumming faster than the human eye could see, his knee jolting at a similar speed, a feeling of unmistakable dread had started forming in the boy’s stomach, and no amount of finger tapping or knee bouncing could make it go away.
He had a feeling in his gut, one that he wouldn’t be able to back up with any type of logic or reason, but regardless, he had a feeling seated deep in the pit of his stomach that told him, extremely definitely, that something wasn’t right.
As best he could for the next hour and a half, Peter tried to stay quiet. Leaving the hanger to run laps around the basketball court; his attempt at exerting some nervous energy, his attempts were fruitless though as all he could focus on was that feeling in his bones that told him that you, his longtime girlfriend, were in danger. What only served to amplify his anxiety was the fact that if something terrible had indeed happened to you at the hands of the reality jumping mutant; there probably wasn’t much he could do to reverse it.
The conversation he’d shared with you last night rang through his head while he weighed up every possible outcome of your situation, and in conjunction; the situation he could possibly find himself in.
“So say your lovely girlfriend does get sent to an alternate reality… would you follow?” Within a second of your question, Peter had flipped your positions so that your back was against the mattress and the man in question was hovering on top of you with a cheeky grin.
“Sweet cheeks, I’d follow you anywhere.” He told you and you giggled at the stupid pet name before pulling him down to kiss you.
He meant it, he knew he meant it. Peter Maximoff had never been so sure of a fact in his entire existence; he’d follow you anywhere. His issue was that anywhere usually didn’t extend to alternate realities, but to him, if it meant rescuing you, he’d figure out a way to work out the kinks. Peter shook the thoughts from his head, he needed to be rational. You were probably fine, but yet again, he found last night's words echoing in his brain, the promise you’d made rattling around the confines of his head as violently as a screen door during a hurricane.
“Pete…” You whispered, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. “I’m gonna be okay. Raven and Charles will be with me the whole time, we’ll be in and out. I promise.”
When his heart began to beat out of control, he stopped running at lightning speed in favour of leaning against a thick tree adjacent to the basketball court. Aiming to steady his pulse he briefly closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. He thought about you; about how you’d play with his fingers to stop him from drumming them, how you’d cause any and all of his intrusive thoughts to be ejected from his mind when your lips would meet his in surprise kisses, or how you’d drape your arms around his shoulders and rest your cheek against his chest at random times. Those were the small interactions that brought him the greatest amount of serenity. Just as his heartbeat returned to its usual overactive pace, the jet you’d left on earlier was flying overhead.
Peter rushed back to the hanger, nervous energy at an all time high when the jet landed before him and Hank. Peter bounced on the heels of his feet as he waited for you to bound into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. But that didn’t happen.
Peter’s heart dropped into that familiar pit in his stomach when Raven and Charles stepped out of the plane, looking crestfallen and solemn when their eyes met Peter’s wide, fear filled, brown eyes.
Before anyone could say a word, Peter sped into the plane, unfortunately confirming his suspicions; you weren’t there. Only a second later, the boy was back in his original spot in front of Charles and Raven.
“She better not be where I think she is right now or I swear to God, man-“ Peter began to threaten as Hank let out a shaky breath of disbelief.
“Peter,” Raven placed her hand on his shoulder when he looked like he was about to hyperventilate, Charles had yet to speak, no doubt trying to find an appropriate way to tell a young mutant that the only constant in his life, his only pacer, had been lost on a mission due to his negligence.
“Where is she? Tell me where she is, I’ll go get her I can be there in back in like five minutes just-“ Peter immediately rushed to speak, ignoring Hank’s confused gaze and Charles’ pained grimace.
“Slow down, bud,” Hank voiced when Peter neared the point of vibrating where he stood.
“The mutant, Galan, he said he’d bring her back, if, and only if, we complied with his demands,” Charles started to explain, grimacing again when Raven cut him off rather bluntly.
“But we can’t. His demands are insane.” She glared at Charles as she spoke, she believed that he shouldn’t have even brought up the option in front of Peter, there was absolutely no way they could accept the deranged mutant’s demands, Charles knew that, and Raven hadn’t wanted to give Peter false hope.
“So what?” Peter yelled, anger replacing nervousness. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. You’d warned them it was a bad idea. It could’ve been avoided. Had he been there, he could’ve saved you. “So what, she's just gone? My girl is just gone and what? I’m supposed to just be okay with it?” He seethed, his breath heavy while his chest heaved with rage.
When, after a moment, nobody spoke, Peter shook his head, “Come on you guys… you’re not seriously considering leaving her in some wacked out world all by herself, are you?” His voice sounded pleading, like a child, stripped raw and entirely vulnerable in a way that made them all wish they’d been more careful, hell, even Hank felt guilty and he hadn’t even been there. He, too, had been against the whole mission in the first place, actually.
“We’re really sorry, Peter,” was all Charles said before he exited the room, Raven stayed rooted in place though, at a loss for what to say or do next.
Peter swallowed thickly, his throat closing and his heart pumping at a rapid rate as tears welled in his eyes and oxygen seemed to disappear from his general area when the reality of the situation set in. You were gone, he’d get you back; even if it took him the rest of his life he’d get you back, but right in that moment, you were just gone. He hadn’t heard Hank’s and Raven’s “Woah!”s as the silver haired boy stumbled on his feet, his knees buckling before he had a chance to steady himself. Nor could he hear the gut wrenching rasps that left his mouth as he slipped into a panic attack that would surely result in him passing out.
“Peter,” Raven was in front of his face, but it wasn’t right- no, you were the one who talked him down, not Raven, it wasn’t right. “—you need to calm down, breath—“ her voice was distorted, as if he was hearing her from beneath a surface of water.
The older woman looked to Hank in desperation, he only furrowed his brow and gradually lowered Peter to the ground. He watched as the speedster rasped and muttered, he only managed to pick up a few words, his heart pulling with each one.
Hank rubbed a soothing hand up and down Peter’s back, while Raven prompted him to breath, eventually they managed to get through to the boy, though, Hank could tell it was more a matter of him having worn himself out.
“You’re alright,” Hank tried to soothe but Peter only whimpered.
He sniffled and met Hank’s gaze, hollowly and miserably, his lips quivering as her spoke in a desperate whisper, “I have to get her back, man. I just have to.”
*
The kettle screeched out a whistle from the kitchen, letting yourself and Wanda know the water was boiled, “I’ll get it,” you told her, you stood from the porch steps, squeezing Wanda’s shoulder on your way in as she gave you a grateful smile.
It’d been a few months since Wanda had sought you out after WestView broke down, you recalled the words she spoke fondly; “You don’t have to be alone. Remember what I said when we first met? We could help each other.”
Of course, you’d agreed to go on the run with her. And true enough, you’d both been extremely helpful to each other. She was a true friend and if nothing else, she was a bright light in the confused foreign world. As much as you adored Wanda, and as much as she adored you, neither of you were so naive as to think you weren’t still swamped in a pool of loneliness, craving for what you’d both respectively lost.
“Wands, was it peppermint you wanted?” You called from the kitchen, grinning slightly when she responded.
“Ya! With honey!” She yelled softly, “Please!”
Dutifully, you made the two cups of tea before returning to your spot next to Wanda on the steps, holding the hot cup between your hands and breathing in the minty steam. The scenery that surrounded you was gorgeous, nothing short of breathtaking. Rolling hills, huge lakes and flower fields that surrounded the cabin gave it the vibe of something plucked right from a storybook. If it was taking yours and Wanda’s story into consideration, you thought, it’d be one tragically dark storybook, but all the good classics were like that, you supposed.
Despite the eye catching backdrop, your mind was elsewhere today, more so than usual.
Wanda’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, “May I ask you something?”
Taking a sip from your tea you gave her an amused smile from over the rim of your ceramic cup, “Always.”
With that, Wanda turned her body to face you and you mirrored her action, then, she tilted her head curiously, “I’ve been wanting to ask you this for a while, but I didn’t want to pry,” she began causing you to snort out a laugh.
“Never stopped you before,” Wanda rolled her eyes, but smiled, continuing to her actual inquiries.
“When we were in WestView, you woke up a few times, but only when the imposter acting as my brother was near you,” you let out a heavy sigh, which stopped her in her tracks. This conversation had been brewing for a while, you could see it in the way Wanda sometimes hesitated before bringing up certain topics.
“In my reality, I have a boyfriend. He’s my everything, really,” you told her, staring blankly out into the fields as you spoke, “We’ve been together since we broke his father out of a high security prison together in ‘73– did I ever tell you that our timelines are different?” You wondered, losing the thread of your thoughts as you recalled the most significant few days of your life that had transpired in 1973, when you and Peter were just eighteen. It was only five years ago for you, but in this reality, the 70s were more than forty years ago.
“You’ve mentioned it,” she reminded you and you nodded, clearing your throat and getting back to the explanation that Wanda was expecting.
“Well, he’s a mutant like me. He’s got super speed, like your Pietro. His birth name is actually Pietro but he hates it, had it changed to Peter when he moved to the states— kids used to pick on him for it,” you explained, laughing lightly, thinking about the way his nose would scrunch up cutely when you’d call him Pietro.
“That man in WestView… he was identical to my Peter and he had the mutation and… his last name is Maximoff so, I don’t know, I guess it made sense that he’d be playing your brother. When we met I thought nobody was ever going to come for me, then I saw him and I was so happy…” Wanda rested a gentle hand on your knee when your face grew mournful.
“I thought he’d come to save me, bring me home, you know? But it wasn’t him at all, just some guy called Ralph Bohner,” you shrugged with a small pout, attempting to diffuse the weight of the confession with a light, humourless chuckle, “Stupid name.”
Wanda fixed you with a genuine smile, “Tell me about him,” she promoted and you sighed, dreamily this time.
“He’s kind, and funny, he makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known— seriously, I could be having the worst day of my life and all he’d have to do is look at me and everything would feel better,” Wanda’s smile widened, she understood, her Pietro had that effect on her too.
“He’s honest, he’s so good hearted but he can be so full of mischief sometimes, he’s a huge prankster back home,” you paused, biting back a smile for a second, then carried on, “He’s got killer taste in music, before we actually started dating he used to lend me his favourite vinyls and make me mixtapes… he used to write crap on the top of the cassettes with black sharpie, like, “kinda cool songs for a sorta cool girl” or, and this is my personal favourite, “songs that make me think of you”, he drew a little winky face so, naturally, I thought it was going to be super cute,” your own laughter cut you off, Wanda’s mingled with yours and she raised her eyebrows.
“And was it?” She asked, chuckling when you shook your head, your smile the widest she’d ever seen it. She couldn’t help but smile too, the more you told her about him, the more she realised he really was just the alternate version of her brother.
“The only song on the whole thing was ‘Let’s Get It On’ by Marvin Gaye!” Wanda threw her head back in laughter, your cheeks hurt from smiling but your heart felt lighter having spoken about the boy you love.
Once she’d stopped laughing, Wanda took you in before speaking the thing she’d been thinking about since you became friends, “You know, I think Pietro would’ve liked you very much,” she joined you in staring off into the fields, “Peter sounds a lot like him.”
“You’d like him, I think,” Wanda nudged her knee against hers and sipped her tea.
“I hope I get to meet him someday,” she stated, causing your tone to dampen ever so slightly as you agreed.
“I hope so too.”
*
Peter hadn’t slept in weeks, by now, the speedster was running on nothing but twinkies and redbull. He hadn’t gotten a chance to sleep really, he’d left the mansion almost two weeks ago on what he was calling a solo mission. By solo mission he meant; finding the mutant that sent you to another reality and asking him, politely, to just plop him wherever he sent you. He had no return plan, but he knew what the X-Men had planned, well, more specifically Erik. He was going to kill Galan, and if that happened that eliminated every chance Peter had of getting his soulmate back.
Peter made a choice the second he left the mansion, he’d rather be in an alternate reality with you than in this reality without you.
Besides, he was sick of his friends telling him he should “move on”, you’d only been gone six months and everyone was acting like waiting for you was a hopeless waste of time, it was driving him insane.
You were it for him, he wouldn’t move on for as long as he lived and he knew you felt the same, but, regardless of that, he wanted to find you sooner rather than later.
Your side of the bed didn’t smell like you anymore, your favourite blanket (which Peter had shoved in his rucksack that he brought with him) didn’t hold the same warmth as it did when you’d wrap it around his shoulders. To put things simply, missing you was eating him alive.
He was following leads to get to Galan and finally, in a dingy motel in some lesser known area of the south, Peter found him.
“You’re one of the X-Men aren't you? Here to agree to my terms? Took you long enough,” the mutant spoke lowly, his grumbling voice all the more intimidating in the dimly lit room.
Peter stood awkwardly, out of place, while the mutant stared at him expectantly, “Uh, no, actually,” Peter finally managed to choke out after a moment of silence.
Galan scoffed, “Look, like I told your buddies; I’m not bringing the girl back-“
Peter shook his head, cutting Galan off frantically, “I don’t need you to bring her back. I want you to send me to her,” Galan raised a scarred eyebrow at the young man in front of him, he looked like all hell, bags under his eyes so prominent they almost didn’t look real. He had something of a nervous quality about him, Galan thought.
“You’re Quicksilver, am I correct?” Peter simply nodded his head in confirmation and Galan rolled his shoulders, “I gotta admit, it’d be nice to get you out of my way.”
Peter looked at him pleadingly, “So? Will you send me to her?”
Galan nodded his head, there was no downside for him, really. “Don’t see why not. But humour me for a second, kid. What’s so special about this girl?” Galan asked, a smirk on his face that unnerved Peter.
Peter took in a deep breath and looked Galan straight in the eyes, “I love her, she’s sorta my other half. I’m a total loser without her,” Peter tried to sound aloof but his body language and pleading gaze weren’t fooling anyone.
Galan snorted out a laugh, muttering something along the lines of “Ah, young love” but that was the last thing Peter heard before the world around him faded away.
When he came to, all he knew was that he was freezing, which was saying something considering he was nearly always too warm. He jolted into a sitting position, darkness surrounded him and all he could smell was grass and a very faint smell of smoke coming from somewhere in the distance. After a few seconds, Peter’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and all he could gather was that he was somewhere very, very hilly. The noises of wild animals in the distance spurred Peter to get onto his feet and start running.
He ran for maybe one minute until he reached a cozy looking wood cabin. The lights were off but smoke still poured from the chimney.
Too cold and too exhausted to think too much, Peter walked up the porch steps and knocked three times on the door.
“Hey, uh, anyone home?” He called when nobody came to the door after a few minutes. Just as he was contemplating running away a girl he didn’t recognise opened the door. Her eyes were wide and her mouth hung open in shock, Peter wasn’t sure why.
“Come in,” she told him immediately, and again, Peter didn’t question it, the strawberry blonde led him to a sofa and motioned for him to sit down, with a flick of her hand the fire sparked to life and Peter let out a silent breath of relief. Whoever this girl was, she was a mutant like him. “I’ll be- I’ll be right back.”
Wanda practically ran into your room, shaking you awake roughly, a crazed smile on her face like a child on Christmas, “Y/n, wake up!”
You cracked your eyes open with a groan and hid your face against your pillow, “What?” You asked in a whine and Wanda would’ve been endeared by how much of a child you were when you were sleepy, had it not been for the love of your life sitting on your living room sofa.
“Just come on, will you? You’ll sleep better once you see this,” she prompted, you let out a weak groan but threw your duvet off your legs anyway, sluggishly following Wanda into the living room, your fuzzy socks helping you shuffle over the hardwood floors without needing to lift your feet off the ground too much.
“It’s like 3am, Wands, this better be—“ you cut yourself off with a sharp gasp immediately upon seeing him, “Peter?” You asked, this time you had to be sure.
His own eyes widened and before he could even consider giving you a verbal answer, you were completely encompassed by his arms, but that was all the answer you needed.
A choked sob left your lips as you wrapped your arms around him, his back shook and his tears were already soaking through your tee shirt, letting you know he was crying too.
“Y/n,” he muttered against you, pressing feverish kisses all over your face while he took in your appearance, “You’re okay?”
You nodded your head, eyes watery and smile shaky. Yours hands cupped his cheek, your thumbs brushing the tears away from under his tired eyes, “I’m okay.”
Peter’s eyes continued to rack over you, his fatigue catching up to him as your soft thumbs stroked his cheekbones, “When was the last time you slept, Pete?” A sleepy smile formed on his lips at the sound of your voice, he would never be able to articulate how deeply he’d missed you.
“S’been a few weeks,” he answered and your eyes widened.
With a sad smile, you placed a kiss on his cheek before taking both of his hands in your own, “C’mon, you need rest so you can answer all the questions I plan on asking you in the morning.”
Wanda, it seemed, had already slinked back to her own room.
Once you arrived in your bedroom, Peter shimmied out of his jeans before crawling into your warm bed and opening his arms, beckoning you in. You didn’t need any convincing, you happily crawled into bed and let Peter wrap his arms around you as you laid your cheek against his chest.
“I have so many things to say but I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out,” Peter said softly, squeezing you against him as closely as possible, burying his nose in your hair and sighing gently.
As gently as you could, you leaned up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, “You can say everything you need to say when you wake up.”
“I love you,” Peter whispered, chasing your lips with his languidly, “You’re my everything, you know that?” Of course, you wouldn’t know how much weight the statement held just yet, that didn’t matter to Peter, though. He had you back, the other details didn’t seem so important anymore.
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lemonhobgoblin · 3 years
Text
A Casual Night
Mothman x human reader (gender-neutral)
Word Count: 7k
(I remember saying I would have a fic done the same week I posted my other fic. Well, that was a lie. After dealing with work, creating new wips, and editing what started as a 2k fic became this long-ass post. I tried to keep this gender-neutral, but if there are any parts thats not gender-neutral, or if something doesn't make sense give me a message and I'll fix it. Anyway hope you enjoy!)
The faint sound of your car running and the sound of the wind whipping against the surface was muddled out by old tunes playing from a random radio station filling the lonely ride home. Your eyes trained on the dark empty road ahead, your headlights on full beam, lighting your way. The subtle notes of a box of cooling pizza wafting in your direction every so often.
You were driving from a city over from where you lived, coming back from a friend’s home who was having a small get-together. It was a great time, unwinding from the stresses of work and life in general, with games, movies, playful banter, and sharing a couple of drinks. As the night progressed, things began to slow down, one of your friends passed out on the couch while everyone else turned to some lighthearted conversation. Leading the host to pipe up if they were willing to spend the night given how late it has gotten and mostly due to how much some people drank.
While everyone was willing to stay the night and continue their night of merriment. You on the other hand as well as one other person had to leave for the night due to work obligations you both had tomorrow morning.
Regretfully, you made your exit not without being offered leftovers for the ride back. But halfway home, you received an email detailing how you were not needed for work tomorrow as you were getting gas.
With this newfound information, you had the choice of making a U-turn back or continue straight home.
Rather than driving back to your friend's home, you were just going to continue your way home. You already said goodnight to them, and you were almost home even though it was still quite a ways to go. Nevertheless, they probably turned in for the night by now, and there was always next time to make it up to them.
So driving down an empty two-way road, with no lights fixture to light the road. With no other cars passing through, keeping you company. Only the trees crowding around the road giving you some sort of haunting looming audience. This was a normally busy road; however, by how late in the night it was, it was understandably dead.
Fortunately, enough, you saw your first signs of life up ahead. It seemed to be a herd of deer passing by. You honked your horn to scare them away from the oncoming danger that was your car.
Except instead of dispersing, they stayed in place, it didn’t seem out of the ordinary why else did they have the saying 'a deer in headlights.'
But what was odd, was the closer you approached the herd of deer they seemed to be floating off the pavement, apparently, they were one entity and not a group and had a pair of red glowing eyes. It stirred an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Promptly, an undiscernible screech erupted all around, jolting you in your seat, feeling a pang of sudden fear washing over you. Convincing yourself it was only the radio going off the fritz, peeling your eyes away from the road you scrambled to shut off the device. During your haste to bring an end to the blaring otherworldly sound, you didn’t realize how fast you were driving.
"What the fuck?!" Seeing a flash of a large dark mass smashing against your windshield - shards of glass flying around and onto you.
Swerving your car over to the side of the road, feeling the right side slope down, the bumps of the grass making you rattle and jostle in your seat. Putting your car to a complete stop.
Frantically, you scrambled to free yourself from your seatbelts, ripping yourself from your constraints, you busted out your car. Not giving a single care to the state of your car or your frazzled state. Only concerned about what or who you hit.
Jogging down, you saw a crumpled figure on the ground, he was a good distance away from where you parked. "Oh my god," You exclaimed.
“I didn’t see you coming, I’m so sorry," you yelled, hurrying to aid the individual. You didn’t get a response or see any movement - he did hit your car pretty hard.
Scared for their wellbeing you slowed down and fished for your phone in your back pocket to call for help. But before you could dial for help, you saw something that put halt to your actions. You starred in disbelief as your phone locked out.
From the figure, a wing stretched out toward the sky before folding back in itself.
What the hell did you hit?!
Cautiously, you crept forward to get a better look, you could see he was wearing a fur jacket. No. He was furry everywhere, dull in color but with an interesting print on what you believed was the wings, the pattern was similar to a moth's wing. A costume perhaps? His legs were a digitigrade structure and his feet are similar to a bird's foot arrangement. The talons of which were scraping against the road like an animal in pain.
"A moth?" Perplexed at what exactly you were looking at, it still seemed human, but it was too large in stature given it curled up on the ground. This had to be some large person in a very convincing costume. Assuming it was someone dressed up, as what you could only think of as Mothman. A random tall person dressed head to toe in an extremely convincing Mothman in the middle of an isolated road, for reasons you couldn't conjure but there had to be a rational reason as to why.
The closer you approached, the more of your rationality began to slip. Carefully you squat down, putting your hands on its back, it felt real. Too real.
The wings felt warm, stroking your hand down, you felt the ridges, bumps, and what felt like a pulse, in the wings. You noticed it had a plush ruff around its neck that could’ve been mistaken for a scarf. And there were antennas on its head, it was featherlike and twitched every few seconds. You had no desire to investigate further, yet you had a gnawing sense of curiosity that compelled you.
Besides what if was someone who was severely injured and needed immediate help. And what kind of person would you be if you just drove off without a second thought, leaving them to die. You couldn't live with yourself if that was the case.
This is too unreal. But all the signs suggested otherwise.
Bracing yourself, you gently turned him over to face you, the moment you caught a glimpse of his face, you felt instant regret surge through your veins. You stumbled backward, landing on your back, trying to push yourself away from the massive creature with your legs.
"MOTHMAN!!" You screamed.
This in turn alarmed the cryptid, flapping his wings erratically in response to your sudden outcry. It was emitting these indiscernible sounds that you had heard earlier in the car, it provoked that familiar immense fear within you.
Except, this was louder than when you were in your car, the sound reverberated through you, chills traveling up your spine. You could feel your heart palpitating within your chest, your trembling limbs growing numb. You felt your senses heightened at an alarming rate it was nauseating that you felt your mind blur. If these disquieting sounds alone could trigger your flight or fight response, without the presence of the monster. It was nothing in comparison to the full show that was in front of you, it was overwhelming in all the senses, inciting you to get far as possible.
"Holy shit!" Pulling yourself from your state of shock, you turned over onto your hands and knees, pushing yourself up and away, making a straight beeline to your car without delay.
The screeching stopped behind you. Glancing back toward the monster curious if it was making a move towards you. But all you saw was a poor incapacitated being, pitifully attempting to lift itself away. One of its wings was flapping while the other was barely moving at all. When it tried to move its stiff wing, it wouldn't fully extend before retracting it back, making what sounded like a pained low screech.
In all honesty, even in your fear-driven state, it pained you to witness this distressing scene. Pondering back and forth between taking the car and leaving, or taking your chances with the monster.
Inching toward the car, all without removing your eyes from the scene. Then you heard a more distressing shrill, stopping you dead in your tracks. You couldn't leave him.
He still needs help.
Inhaling a deep breath, you shakily walked back, each step was challenging you felt so weak in the knees and you felt lighter than usual. Your mouth desiccated of any moisture but persisted in swallowing nothing. It felt as if you were walking down to your execution and it might as well be. You couldn't predict what it would do or what it was capable of doing if you got any closer. Regardless, you tried to push your fears aside and help him, even if it killed you.
"Hold on, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just don’t hurt me please." Easing yourself onto your knees, mindful of not doing any sudden movements to provoke it any further for both of your sakes.
Bringing a hand back to where you had it before, you delicately brushed your hand up and down in small strokes on its wing. Focusing on his state and not his appearance, you saw cuts and scrapes littering its wings and body.
You grazed over an open wound, causing the creature to flinch, silently apologizing to him in a hushed tone before continuing to pet him while avoiding any more wounds.
Its breathing began to slow, quelling its jitters. You took this as an indicator of the creature growing at ease at your presence. “See I just wanna help." You whispered as the Moth creature peered up, gazing into your eyes in a sort of mutual understanding. Ensuring a feeling of reprieve within you and within him, or so you thought. It was soon to be proven wrong. The moment was short-lived when the cryptid began to thrash around again, this time trying to keep you away from him.
"Wait I thought we had an understanding there." Pulling yourself into a ball to avoid the cryptid's violent flapping wing and arms recklessly whipping around. "The eye contact we had! The eye contact!" you screamed after being betrayed by this false sense of amicable trust you thought you both had shared at that moment. But this ineffectively did nothing to fix the dilemma, merely adding more to the chaos.
"Please I want to help you." Reaching your hand out to calm him once more, without the screaming and flailing this time. "This was my fault, I wanna help and then you can go on your Mothman way, okay?" You tried to coax. Once more the monster began to quiet down, its quick shallow breathing slowed. Weary of his soothed behavior, you waited a bit before wrapping his arm over your neck.
"Okay, I'm gonna pick you up or at least try to." You said, guiding him upward into a standing position.
"Christ, you’re heavy!" Bending under the weight, propping him against your frame, so you could get a proper footing and grip on him. You struggled to the car, trudging over, but not without one of your legs giving out from under the weight occasionally. What caught your eye was how his head lulled forward or side to side, he might be disoriented from the blow. Not wanting to move his head much, you trudged much slower than you already were and stopped every few seconds.
Arriving at you your vehicle, you rested against your car, before opening the car door and easing him inside into the backseat. Tucking in any stray limbs and wings fully inside the car. Shutting the door you looked at the heavily cracked windshield. It was damaged pretty well, you summarized that you had to slowly drive all the way home. Wait home.
"Wait, I can't just bring you to my house." You said, bringing a hand to your mouth, realizing a new issue. "Someone's gonna see you." Remembering you lived on a busy street near pubs and shops, and it was Friday night you could only assume there were still people out and about enjoying the nightlife. Peering inside your car, your eyes locked on your jacket in the front seat.
"Maybe I can disguise you, and it is Friday night maybe people would be too drunk to notice."
"As long as we don't draw too much attention." You said, getting into your seat and starting up the engine. But something about saying those words aloud, felt like it was going to bite you in the ass but what’s the worst that can happen, you had him handled.
….
Here you were driving back home with the low-volume melody playing like before. However, this was different, before you were alone and you welcomed the tranquil ambiance you had riding home. But now you were riding back with an elusive creature. Creating an unsettling silence within the vehicle. What was maddening was that you were unsure what he was thinking, making you unsure of what to do besides drive. Maybe you were overthinking this but you felt you had to do something to break this disorienting atmosphere because this was too hard to fathom as reality.
"D-Do you want gum? L-Leftover pizza?" Your voice cracked, quickly clearing your throat asking again in a stronger confident voice.
No response. You tapped your fingers on the steering wheel, sucking in your cheek prompting you to purse your lips in your endeavor of finding what else to say. Flitting your eyes back and forth from the road to looking around your car on what else to offer.
"My coat?"
No response again.
Looking at your rearview mirror to get a glimpse of the cryptid only to be met with its red eyes staring directly back at you. Hastily looking back to the road and sinking into your seat, alarmed. How long was he staring at you? Why was he staring? At least he seemed less disoriented now, but you didn’t need that right now, maybe you could draw his attention onto something else other than you.
"How about some air?" you asked, hoping he would stare out the window or put his head out, anything but him staring at you all the way home. Gliding your left hand over to the window control panel on the side of your door, you pushed down a button making his window rolled down. This captured his attention, redirecting his gaze towards the open window, watching the trees and road signs passing by. O thank god. but just as he turned his head to the outside, he took this as an invitation to spread his wings to catch some air.
"That doesn't mean you can start flapping, put your wings down." Whipping your head back and forth from the creature to the road, drawing a hand at him, swinging it around to get him to fold his wings down. "PUT YOUR WINGS DOWN! PUT YOUR WINGS DOWN!" Veering your car off to the side of the road.
.....
Back on the road, after sorting out the matter. "Okay, no rolled down windows." You remarked. Mothman looking like a perfect angel in the back tapping at the rolled-up window while you were in the front with your hair messed up and arms lightly scratched. You weren't a mother, but you now had a vague idea of what it would be like and further respect and admiration for them.
Needless to say, you rode the entire way back in silence without a single word being uttered.
…..
Steering your car on the side of the street in front of an apartment complex, you placed your car in park. You turned off the engine. Street lamps and other building lights were illuminating the street. The neon signs from the local business started to shut off, looked like some of them are turning in for the night.
You snatched your jacket from the passenger seat before slipping out and making your way to open Mothman’s car door.
"We need to move, quickly." Throwing your coat over him to conceal him in the event of someone walking by. Mothman pawed at the coat and clutching it closer to get a better look and smell of the material. After gathering your phone and keys, you whirled back toward Mothman. Fussing at him to not move the jacket, readjusting it over his head. You surveyed the streets for anyone coming down or seem like they are heading out in your direction.
Once more putting his arm around you, you strode as quickly as you possibly could to the complex without either of you falling over. Mercifully, you got to the door with no problem at all or bumping into anyone.
Until you heard something you’ve been dreading on the way home, something that made your heart sank down into the deep trenches of your stomach
"Holy shit! Is that Mothman!?!" A male voice exclaimed.
You whirled your head toward the stranger who was slowly approaching you two. Fuck!
Where did he come from and what made him so confident that he’s looking at Mothman. You glanced back over to Mothman noticing that the jacket that was covering his face, was now draped over his shoulders. Drastically you scoured your brain for an excuse or some sort of explanation to counter how this wasn't a cryptid. But he beat you to the punch before you had a chance to find a solid response.
"Dude sick costume!" He said excitedly.
O fuck. Relieved that it wasn't the worse, but you were surprised he didn't question any further especially how close he was to you both. Even you would've questioned, the details and just the overall realism of said 'costume'. It didn't take long for the answer to hit you square in the nose. When a waft of alcohol invaded your nostrils, the man was drunk, and you never were more grateful.
"Thanks." You nervously laughed.
"That’s crazy good man, you did this all yourself?” He asked enthusiastically towards Mothman, beholding every bit of intricacy on the creature.
"He can’t talk right now; he drank too much to function." You interjected. “We just got back from a party.”
"I gotcha, but is it okay if I get a photo though?"
FUCK! you blurted internally, but externally with faux delight, you said "Sure!"
" 'Chad' you cool with that?" you sheepishly asked your moth friend with the first name you could think of for him. And why were you asking him? As if he could make a cohesive verbal response. But you were hoping at this moment he could magically talk, alas all he did was blankly stare.
"I'm not hearing a no." You heard the man say and you woefully agreed.
"Gimme a sec." The man pulled out his phone and tapping it unlocked.
"Okay," your heart was racing in your chest and you could feel a layer of sweat beginning to form and pool in places. But by some sweet grace of some higher being, a miracle happened right before your eyes. You heard a melodious chime sweetly ring through the crisp early fall air.
"O dang getting a call, hold on" the man answered the call, turning his back towards you.
Maybe there was a god, after all, a fucking sadist with a sick sense of humor. Either way, you were not about to pass up this chance for a free getaway.
You took this God-given opportunity to jam your key into the lock swiftly to get the both of you inside. Twisting to unlock the entrance, you could overhear the man to what sounded like him wrapping up his conservation. Turning the knob, you ushered Mothman and yourself inside the apartment complex, but not without throwing a quick apology to the stranger. Slamming your back against the door shutting it closed, a wave of relief washed over you.
"Aw man, that was too close." leaning your head against the door, desperate for a quick breath from your ordeal. You hadn't felt this much adrenaline since, since. You were so winded you couldn't even recall a memory.
Peeling yourself off from the door, feeling ready to make the final steps home. Deceptively though your body wasn’t as ready to move just yet.
"Nope wait." still trying to catch your breath. Doubling over, leaning forward, and resting your hands on your knees. Mothman all the while just tilted his head at you, confused. While you were over there feeling like you were going to be sick. The wave of nausea quickly fading away allowing you to straighten yourself out.
"Okay, we're good." You said as you grabbed his hand leading him up the stairs. Unbeknownst to you, the large creature was zoning in at the unfamiliar contact.
During his entire time with you, he was just as wary of you as you were with him. He wasn’t one to present himself to people, only as a forewarning of what was to come or an indication that Mothman will be the very last thing they would see. He trailed and stalked others like you in your car but was never hit, that was a first for him. Albeit though, him getting hit with your car, leaving him cut up and bruised did give him another reason to be extremely defensive and antsy around you.
Yet, you were gentle, loud but gentle with him when he wasn’t. Risking your safety in an effort for him to get mended. Lightly ghosting his thumb over the soft skin of your hand, tightening his hold on you. But you didn't notice, you were too preoccupied with climbing higher up the stairs, vigilant for any neighbors.
"Come on we're almost to my place." Giving a reassuring hand squeeze.
"Try to stay quiet a little longer." Peering back at the cryptid flashing him a quick warm smile, before looking back straight ahead. The creature looked directly at you, then to stairs, and back to you again. He came up with a grand idea to help with your effort. But first, he had to gain your attention and for this to work, he had to disregard everything you told him not to do earlier. The cryptid started to emit his screech directly at you to get your attention. And to you, he was making a ruckus, that was echoing through the entire stairwell and halls.
"What part of stay quiet do you not understand?" Grimacing at the noise. You stopped your movement, aiming to cover his mouth with your free hand, you felt his mandibles tickling underneath your palm.
The creature pulled your hand away and into his own, clutching both of his hands close to himself, bringing you into him. This gesture was unexpected and left you feeling warm in the face by how close he was pressing you into him. But it didn't last long when he began to bend his knee and flap his wing readying himself to fly up.
"Wait don't" Pushing yourself away from him, you freed yourself from his grasp to stop his actions. He was still injured this would only cause more harm to him and to you if he tried doing what you thought he was about to do. In your effort to stop him, Mothman tried to reach out for you again, only for his wing to smack into you causing you to land on the hard edge of the concrete stairs; headfirst. “Shit."
Groaning, "Well, I deserved that." you brought your hand to your head, you winced at the touch. As you yanked your hand away you caught a glimpse of red in your peripherals. Bringing the hand in your line of vision you saw blood smeared on the tips of your fingers.
Mothman immediately brought his actions to a halt when he saw what he had done to you. His antennas drooped down, he came close, giving you a hand up. Gladly accepting the gesture, he brought you up to an upright position, he felt bad for what he had done to you. Tentatively, he brought a hand up, lightly swiping his claws over your forehead making a low pained screech.
“It’s okay, you just wanted help didn’t you.” He nodded in response, you pressed a hand to the wound preventing the blood from dripping down. You couldn’t be mad at him he didn’t know better, and you did hurt him first, it only felt fair. Disrupting this tender moment, you heard yelling and heavy footsteps approaching one of the doors on the floor you were on.
"Let’s go!" you rushed up the stairs, luckily for you both it was the final flight of stairs. Reaching the top of steps in record time when you heard the front swing door open.
"What's with all that commotion!?" A neighbor yelled upward toward the sound of your feet stomping up. Coming to an abrupt halt at your door, you whispered for Mothman to stay where he was, while you dealt with the matter below. But he decided to follow behind instead, not wanting to leave your side.
"Sorry I was just goofing" You admitted, showing your face over the rail, outing yourself to your neighbor.
"Sorry my ass, I got work early tomorrow, you expect me to sleep with this fucking racket outside, and now this." They argued back, and rightly so, who wouldn’t complain about an unearthly ear-piercing screech penetrating through the halls along with banging sounds hitting all around the walls. But you couldn’t help but feel annoyed
"I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, promise." You leaned forward resting against the rail while one leg was kicked up behind you, preventing Mothman from coming toward the railing. You exchanged a few more words with your neighbor to avoid the landlord getting involved. Finishing up, you pulled yourself away calling it wraps on the conversation as the individual below continued spewing profanities at you and about the building.
You unlocked and opened your door “In! In! In!" You shoved the imposing cryptid inside, already getting peeved by the neighbor's continuous rambling. It wasn’t anything new they hated everyone in the building, but it wasn’t something you grew used to though.
"Jesus Christ finally." you sighed, kicking the door behind shut.
Slipping off your shoes, leaving them by the entrance, your feet ached in relief from its constructing confines. Dragging yourself through the small hall leading the way to the main part of your home, it was small but cozy.
"Here we are home sweet home." you chimed, leading Mothman further into the living room, grabbing the jacket from him and tossing it to the couch. As well as turning on a lamp to properly illuminate the room. It didn't take long for Mothman to be drawn to the light fixture like the moth he was. He grabbed the lamp hugging it towards him, looking directly at the bulb. Chuckling at the sight, you could’ve given him a flashlight on the way home if he was going to be this mesmerized. You proceeded to make your way to the kitchen for your first aid kit.
"You can make yourself comfortable, but don’t wreck anything please," you shouted from the room over, but Mothman was unbothered, he was solely transfixed on the soft light, eyes wide and grabbing at the lampshade. "I'm gonna go find my first aid kit to fix you and my cut." You really hoped nothing else gets broken, there was already enough screaming and thrashing for the night.
Shuffling through the kitchen, trying to remember where you last placed the kit. You rested and slid a hand over the cool smooth linoleum counter, looking between cabinets for any sign of a small box. Coming to the last cabinet, you rummaged through before finally pulling out your first aid kit.
But you couldn’t help but stop and think about tonight’s events. It started as a fun night, then filled with pure dread, mothering, and now what felt like taking care of a drunk long-time friend. Except, what really dominated your mind was this odd feeling you started to feel, you recounted back in the hall the way he held you close. It made you feel bashful, to say the least. Up to now, you saw him as a friendly harmless dare you say, an unexpected friend. But that didn’t accurately describe what you were feeling. Shaking your heading, you had other pressing matters to attend to.
"Got it, let's see." And not to your surprise you saw the tall cryptid sitting on the couch, clutching the lamp close to him as if it was his lifeline. You contemplated whether you should take the lamp away. But he looked to be enjoying the light source, hearing faint happy chirps emitting from him. Sadly, you decided to ruin his fun, seeing as there were wounds you needed to tend to on his chest and you needed the light to properly see them.
You attempted to pull the lamp away so you could have better access to examine his injuries. In response, he chittered in objection to his lamp being taken, and nothing was going to separate him from his precious lamp. He was going to soon learn that the lamp was barely holding onto the outlet. Hugging it closer to himself, the plug came out, extinguishing the light. Perplexed as to where his light disappeared to, he presented the lamp towards you hoping you would bring the light back.
“I’ll bring it back, but only until I get a look at you.” He nodded vigorously as you grabbed the lamp and setting back on the mini table, blindingly trying to find the plug and inserting back into the outlet turning on the lamp again. You sat on the couch next to him, motioning for him to come closer so you could get to work.
......
"I don’t see any major cuts or anything broken." Scouting out the state of the injuries, they were honestly not that bad, you guessed it was probably due to the now dried flaky blood around his cuts gave the appearance that they worse than what they were. He got pretty lucky but it was probably due to his build that he was capable of taking on more than a couple of hits.
"Only just a sprain and a couple of cuts, that’s a relief" Thinking to yourself glad it wasn't any worse, you couldn't imagine the stress of trying to keep him at your apartment while he heals, and away from your neighbors’ eyes. The fear of him getting caught and taken away and dissected. Being bombarded by officials and Mothman lovers. And getting questioned or probed, maybe even both. You didn’t know if they would, but you knew deep in your heart they would probe you for answers. Stopping your paranoid-filled train of thought from delving any further. You finished tying up a couple of loose ends and sticking on on salve on minor areas.
"See all better. Don’t move too much, it'll heal quickly that way" Gathering any trash to throw away. Everything is fine now; you don’t have plans tomorrow so you could probably sneak him back out the next night.
Huh.
Letting him go. The idea of it should have given you some relief and yet you couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Would he come to visit again? No that would be reckless. Or you could convince him to stay longer to heal, no that would be irresponsible and selfish of you. He deserves to go back, and you're going to help him get back on his feet and let him be on his way. You walked back to the room.
“Feel much better?” you inquired to Mothman who busy was playing with the bandages on him.
He looked directly at you and nodded in response.
"That’s good, the sooner you get better the sooner you can leave," you told him, seating yourself back next to Mothman who hasn’t kept his eyes off of you. You peered up to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, only to capture him looking directly at you with his head tilted.
Not this again. you thought.
He’s certainly not making this any easier. You looked away trying to focus on anything else in the room before you resorted to looking at the floor.
"You know it’s still kinda crazy, that this is even real. Like I feel like I’m going insane," you jokingly confessed to Mothman, laughing to yourself. But you thought about it more, maybe you were, "O my God is this what a psychological break is?" You looked back at him, having an unfazed look on him.
"Can I?" you asked reaching a hand forward. He stared at your hand for a bit, until he leaned forward giving you permission to proceed.
"So soft" allowing yourself to fully feel him, combing your hand through his dark fur and traveling up his ruff. It was surprisingly plush for how it looked, it felt you were touching a cloud but with some tiny debris within it. You gathered more courage to let your hand wander up to his face, giving a couple of brushes before stopping your motion, cupping the side face. His eyes were a brilliant red color comparable to a lustrous gem.
"You really are real." You muttered, stroking a thumb over his cheek.
Mothman brought a clawed hand to your face in a likewise manner, curious of your own features. Where for him he found them peculiar and to other individuals such as yourself they found it normal. The universe was messed up, making it much harder for you to separate yourself from him when the time comes for him to leave, but you allowed this, forgetting your initial plan.
Feeling a sharp claw gliding up against your skin, perfectly capable of nicking you or doing so much worse to you than you could imagine. But he had no intention to do so, merely entranced by you.
His hand wandered up to your forehead, where your gash was, flaky and dried the blood was chipping at the edges. His antennas lowered and chirped in response, for what he did to you back at the stairwell, he didn't mean to. Even if you said it was alright, it still didn’t make him better, bringing a hand to skim the wound, you flinched at the sharp pain of your forgotten injury, knocking you out of your trance-like state.
Mothman drawing back in his seat, alert and worried thinking he hurt you again.
“It’s okay, you did nothing wrong.”
You reached a hand out to calm him, you aimed for his arm but managed to miss and land your hand on his thigh. Wow, that’s great! you internally cringed feeling a blush rush over you, instead of pulling back you still tried to alleviate him by patting his leg, telling him it was the injury that was hurting you not him.
Instead of defusing his concerned mindset, he only tried to push away from you to avoid causing you any further harm. Hand still anchored on his thigh, you launched yourself trying to stop him from hurting himself more.
Fortunately, with your luck, you ended up top of him, Mothman laying on the couch while you hovered over him, with both of your legs planted on either side of his thigh. Your left knee was alarming close to his crotch if you moved an inch closer you would be bumping your knee right into it. Your hands rested squarely on his chest, finger splayed out as you looked down at him with a similar wide-eyed expression.
You gotta be fucking kidding me.
Maintaining your effort of trying to console Mothman, you coughed to clear your throat and your mind of any dirty thoughts from springing up. “Hey, I know you didn’t mean to, and if you did, I would tell you and- and I’m sorry that I gave you the impression that you hurt me and I’m sorry for hitting you with my car, I feel like saying it doesn’t do justice for what I did.” You panted after your long-winded speech.
“Also, I’m sorry for tackling you down that wasn’t my intention. So, you good? I didn’t hurt you?”
He slowly shook his head, as a response that you didn’t hurt him. Startled yes. Hurt no. Bobbing your head in understanding, you carefully crawled off him.
"Well, I guess I should go get the blood washed off, I'll be right back." You informed the still cryptid who made no effort of getting up, just continued to lay on the couch staring straight ahead in shock.
Walking off to clean off the blood and to regain your composure. You were just going through too many emotions than you should for the night. On your way to take care of your problem, you could’ve sworn you heard something akin to a cat purring where Mothman was. But you blew it off and justified it as hearing the blood rushing and the beat of your heart pounding in your ears.
Striding down a hall and into the bathroom you turned the faucet on allowing the water to flow into the sink and onto your hands. Water pooled in your cupped hands before splashing the cold water onto your face, the water, and dried blood dripping together down around the curves and grooves of your face into the porcelain bowl below. It was a satisfying contrast to your heated face, splashing another round of water at your face but an intrusive memory replayed the moment that happened a few seconds ago. Leaving your face buried in your hands, groaning from sheer embarrassment. Fucking hell why am I like this?!
Unwillingly you slid your hands off and look at yourself in the mirror you looked like the accurate personification of a hot mess. You weren’t going to think too much into this, you are going to pretend what happened didn’t happen, you were going to disinfect and stick a bandage on your cut and not dwell on your emotions around the situation at hand. Allowing him to leave as soon as he is better and not have any other affiliations with him again.
Opening the medicine cabinet for an alcohol wipe and unwrapping the wipe from its small packaging.
"Now for the worst part." Quietly hissing at the contact with the antiseptic. Finishing up on cleaning the wound, you foraged through the cabinet looking for a bandaid. Noting there wasn’t one to be found, you sighed.
Guess I need to go find one.
Turning toward the door to walk out, you looked up and saw Mothman standing at the doorway, watching.
How long was he standing? And how the hell is he so silent for such a big guy and why wasn't he like this before? You were about to question him what he was doing here or if needed something when you noticed he was fiddling with a band-aid in hand. Slowly he brought it up, placing it over your cut.
"Thanks." Laying a hand over the band-aid, feeling not just your cheeks warming up but now a butterfly feeling in your stomach, solidifying your emotions for him.
So much for my plan.
Weaseling past him, before enthusiastically asking him, "Well, we got time to pass, so what do you want to do?"
…..
The sun rays bled through the curtains lightening up your home, the light seeping past your eyelashes and into your eyelids forcing you to wake up. Blinded by the light, you groaned in discomfort, pushing yourself up hearing a couple pops in your back. Rubbing a hand up and down your face trying to wipe away the sleep.
What the hell happened here? Why was there glass everywhere? Looking up you saw your window smashed in with only a few jagged pieces in place around the sides. Turning your attention away you looked around the room, wasn’t there someone else here. O yeah.
But the question was, how did you end up falling asleep on the floor, and where was the large cryptid. Wait a minute.
"No, you can't go out, you're still hurt." Trying to hold him back from going through the window. Everything was fine, you both were sitting on the couch, watching whatever, and snacking on fruit, and next, you found yourself asleep but woke up to a ruckus, the tv still on, and seeing Mothman trying to rip the curtain off the window nearby. Jumping to action to stop him, he successfully pulled off the curtains along with the rack, you assumed he was trying to leave even though he wasn’t better or so you thought.
And here you were struggling to hold him back, you thought he was difficult before but now that he fully adjusted and patched, you fully experienced that he was pure indomitable power.
"At least wait till the street is clear." You insisted, noticing some people walking or jogging down the street in the dark early morning. But he didn't listen he was adamant in making his exit. So, you made the decision to let him go.
"Okay, okay at least let me get the window, I don’t want glass on the floor." Racing in front of him to slide the window open. A quick gust of wind whipped against your face, causing you to squint your eyes in response.
"There! AH-!" the last thing you saw was Mothman coming at you and the last thing you felt was his frame bulldozing you down by fast approaching torso.
"O right." That explains how you ended up on the floor and the glass strewn all over the floor. More incredibly, even when you opened the window, the creature still managed to break the window in its haste to leave. Your head was pounding, he really is a force to be reckoned with. Bringing a hand to your head, you winced at the contact to your forehead but noticed something else. Delicately raising a hand back to your forehead and skimming along the surface. There was the band-aid from the stairwell and on the other side was another. You didn’t remember adding when did you?
Oh.
……
"My window," you muttered groggily, your vision fading out not before the moth creature gave his assistance to you for the last time and a thanks to you by sticking a band-aid on your sure-to-be bruised noggin as you lulled into an unconscious state.
……
At least bug boy was nice enough to get you another band-aid when he put you out cold, before making his exit. Slowly standing up to get started on assessing the mess and knowing full well that you needed to inform your landlord of the window. You peered out the window, curious of any indication of Mothman to spot, unfortunately, all there was to see the was hustle and bustle of the city around and below.
Turning your attention back to the mess, maybe you could make a fib of some large man drunk man pretending to be Mothman breaking into your home believing it was his. Sighing, you went to grab a broom to clean up the mess, at least you were able to encounter a real living and breathing legend. Made you wonder if other cryptids exist, but you’re pretty sure handling one creature was enough for now after last night.
Finishing up, you gathered all the shards and brought them to the trash. You didn’t have work for today, which gave you the opportunity to get a breather and get things done. Making your way to your room and getting ready for the day.
As you were getting clothes on and getting a good look at yourself in the mirror. There square above your eyes and your right eye was a bruise evident from last night's escapades. Shaking your head, laughing to yourself you weren’t going to be able to cover up the contusion. Bringing a hand to your head, you couldn’t help but smile at the cryptids' cute gesture. Walking out of the restroom deciding to let the shiner shine, ready to do some damage control.
Grabbing your keys, and heading out the door, and yet you couldn't stop thinking of that little moth guy. What are the chances of seeing him again? Probably unlikely, a mere once in a lifetime chance but you were grateful to encounter a sweet bug boy like him.
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hobilluvvr · 3 years
Text
lost ocean troubles | 2
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college au! sub!armin x dom!reader
words - 2.7k
warnings - vomit, blood, mentions of abuse , injuries
parts - |
~
so incredibly sorry for this late update but testing season is approaching and I need to study sadly :/ this part is very rough with spelling errors and grammar but will be revised later !
please enjoy this update and constructive criticism is always welcomed :D . If you want to be added to the tag list please don’t hesitate to ask !
taglist - @haikyoonn @kenmas-nintendoswitch
~
The flowers had this magnificent pale blue color to them, the sun hitting them just at the right angle and the sage leaves accented the stem, the weight of the beautiful petals making the stem slightly wilt downwards .
this piqued armins interest, so much so that he walked towards them , feet trudding against the soft sand. As he comes close the overwhelming smell of coconut with a hint of sea saltseasalt overwhelmes his senses, his nose srunching up in question, the scent resembling of clean linen,a quite odd observation , even more so for a flower .
Just as he reaches to pick the flower up, the sun all of the sudden blazes furiously, the rays bouncing everywhere and blinding armin, now groaning as he squirms in abrupt discomfort. His feet dig at the sand … or what was the sand… the feeling of plush fabric instead meeting his skin, surrounding his body in comfort and warmth.
Snuggling further into this random source of heat, the sudden realization hits him. His eyes open the tiniest bit and he stops for a moment … this isnt the beach… in fact he’s laying on a bed… an unknown bed
At this his body jolts upward and armin frantically looks around his surroundings, the white pillows and the grey blanket not correlating in his mind as his. ‘This isnt my room’ the panic quickly sets in, quickly throwing the blanket aside and standing up abruptly which proves to be a grave mistake as a headache and the urge to vomit surges up his throat.
He clutches his stomach as he runs to the bathroom ,quickly kneeling over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach, the acidity already making his throat burn angrily. The sound of quick footsteps echo the walls and he goes to turn his head towards the door when the second round of bile threatens to escape his throat.
His ingers clutch the toilet ,violently puking when a second presence is felt . armin feels someone kneel next to him and gently rub at his back
“Its okay , its okay ,let it all out “ you push his bangs away from his face while the other hand rubs at his back . armin lifts his head up ,groaning as he moves away from the toilet feeling his head throb way too violently.
You hand him the cup of water and pain killer you set down when you entered the bathroom
“Here take this, dont move too much . your head is most likely killing you” he takes the items and pops the pill in his mouth quickly downing it with the water. When he sets the cup down he looks at you ,eyes squinting, clearly confused
“Where am i ?”
You chuckle lightly, standing up and lean against the counter “you dont remember anything do you huh?” the boy sitting on the floor thinking ...
Suddenly armin visibly stiffens, his cheeks flushing “uh w-ww di-idnt do i-it ,rig-ght?” his eyes all of the sudden finding great interest on the floor tiles .
You give him a light smile and laugh even louder this time “no, no we didnt ,dont worry about that. Here cmon” you reach out a hand to lift him up off the floor
He takes your hand sheepishly ,shoulders relaxing in relief, his red cheeks calming down “ then what happened? Why am i here ?” he asks following you out of the bathroom and into the room.
You cringe at the events that happened the previous night and you wonder if you should tell him everything. You head over to your drawers and open them, turning your back to the stumbling boy “well you got extremely wasted and this creep saw that you were alone and he tried messing with you but i took care of it”
your hands clench harshly at the shirt you were holding thinking about the old fuck. God humans can be pieces of shit
“Oh.” armins bit his lip and he desperately tried to remember exactly what happened , your answer being quite vague , but this did nothing but make his head throb once again . wincing in pain he goes to lifts his hand up to hold his head when he notices the bandages around his wrists ‘what happened ?did i get injured ?’
After picking out what you needed , you turned to face him and you catch his line of sight , looking at his wrists . as if you heard what his thoughts you say “ the perv was being really aggressive towards you and he injured you quite badly but i brought you up to my apartment and fixed you up a bit “giving him a warm smile you hold out the clothes you had previously searched for
“ here , take this and clean your self up a bit then i can take you home, yeah ? you got a little bit of a stain forming on you “ you chuckle, head nodding towards the vomit on the shirt before walking out ,leaving him in the room alone
His eyes widen at your comment immediately rushing to the bathroom and sure enough his vomit is all over the shirt , the mirror reminding him of his earlier commotion . armin sighs in embarrassment ,blue eyes scanning his appearance, finally now knowing how much of a hot mess he looks like . he notices another bandage on his face, his cheek specifically , a bit of blood staining the white bandage along with another few scratches all over his face.
His finger traces around his facial injuries ‘wow, what exaclty happened last night ?’
He shakes his head , not wanting his head to pound again, instead just focusing his attention on the shirt you gave him noticing that it looks similar to the dirty one he is wearing currently.
‘Oh god …..dont tell me …. Im wearing her clothes ‘ the realization hits him and his ears turn an angry shade of red. ‘God how much more of a burden can he be to you ?’ he groans before closing the bathroom door
As soon as you close the door , your eyes land on a very dishevled eren leaving his room , hand shielding his squinting eyes away from the harsh sunlight “what happened ? i heard what sounded like someone vomiting” his morning voice rasping out, following you to the kitchen and sitting down on the kitchen bar stool
“Oh he woke up and well... , you know how hangovers are like “ you open the fridge , scanning the interior “wait why is the fridge empty ? i thought i told you it was your turn to go grocery shopping this time ? what happened ? “ you frown turning towards him, crossing your arms
Eren only yawns and stretches his body, not seeming to mind that you were glaring holes at him “dont you remember ? i couldnt go so you said we’d go together after we ate something yesterday but then you got too caught up fighting someone if i recall correctly ” he confidently said, fingers tapping at his chin , eyes meeting yours, glaring back.
You sigh giving up “ ahh yeah i remember now….” you take a quick glance around the kitchen and see nothing of nutritional value “ the hell are we going to eat then ? and why didnt you clean up the medical supplies from last night ?” you badger him looking at the medical supplies messily strewn all over the counter
Eren scrunches his face , hand running through his bedhair, still groggy from just waking up a few minutes ago “ we can always just doordash something” he picks up the bottle of rubbing alcohol remebering how you carried armin into the apartment when he passed out and set him on the couch leaving eren to tend to his wounds.
*
Just as armin was falling , passing out after just vomiting all over you , you quickly grab at his waist and preventing him from hitting his head on the floor . the stench of the vomit was awfully intense and you scrunch your nose trying to stop the smell from affecting you “ can you be any faster over there ? you tease seeing him struggle with the keys , his fumbling being weirdly endearing somehow
“Im trying , im trying. I swear this cold is messing me up or something “ he puffs out now fumbling with inserting the key right . you roll your eyes upon seeing this , giving a light chuckle before reaching a hand underneath the blonde boys legs and bringing them towards your chest, effectively lifting him up bridal style.
You walk into the apartment and set the boy softly onto the couch before looking down to the mess that your clothes are in , heading towards the bathroom “ hey eren could you patch him up for me ? i have to clean myself up before he’s not the only one with body fluids all over the floor.” you smirk
Eren scoffs “dont you go throwing up on me , you hear ? i just mopped the floors yesterday and im sure as hell not letting you mess my hard work up “ he hears your distant laugh down the hallway , before the sound of boots fade, leaving him alone with the boy
Eren looks at the boy slowly sliding down on the couch and ultimately sighs before going to the cabinet where all the medical supplies are stored. He opens it while lowly muttering “just cause my dad was a doctor and he taught me a few things doesnt mean i have to tend to everyones wounds “
Grabbing a few bandages and bandaids, and rubbing alcohol, he grabs a stool and places it in front of the boy. ‘Your injuries shouldnt be that bad ‘ he thinks before he lifts the boy and positions him upright. Immediately the sight of scarce blood and vomit greets erens eyes . eren winces in slight sympathy and disgust before he wipes armins face clean with the cloth he has in hand and disinfecting the wounds next
The rubbing alcohol stirred a reaction out of the blonde boy seeing as he squirmed in discomfort , the position he was put in faltering, falling into the nearest thing, which so happened to be erens chest, more specifically his neck
Eren was flustered ,not knowing what to do he freezes , his ears turning red upon feeling the shallow breath of the boy on, his sensitive neck . Eren looks down and he admires the peaceful features on the petite boy .’he looks so peaceful, pretty even ‘ eren stares for a bit before he snaps out of it and pushes the boy off his chest , tending to his wounds , doing what he first came to do.
*
“ i left the supplies out because i knew i would have to tend to your wounds too “ he gets up , walking to the other side of the bar, heading where you are
You squint your eyes in visible confusion “ my wounds ? what are you talking about ?” he scoffs rolling his eyes, “dont play dumb with me , you beat up someone to a bloody pulp and dont expect any damage to your hands, more specifically your damn knuckles ? “
He reaches down, grabbing your hand and lifting them up as to make a point “look at this “ you look down towards your hand and the sight of multi colored bruises,blood and even some open skin greets you.
“ you didnt let me tend to them yesterday so let me do it now “ you meet eyes and his are practically pleading you, but before you get to open your mouth to say anything, you hear rustling and you look behind eren to see what it is .
Armin is awkwardly standing there in the living room, the clean shirt you gave him reaching his knees , and the sweatpants a bit too baggy . you have to physically stop yourself from cooing , the sight being way too adorable for you to handle this early in the morning
Eren senses his presence as well , turning around , both of you guys forgetting about your previous conversation . you clear your throat, sensing some sort of tension in the room “ hey youre finally out ! i was going to make you something to eat but turns out the fridge is empty “ you rub your neck sheepishly , making a mental note to go grocery shopping asap .
Armins eyes widen at this , his hands extending and quickly shaking “ oh no no , please you dont have to, i dont want to be more of a bother than i already am ,” he shyly looks down at the floor , swinging his body , slightly nervous
You smile seeing his cute habit of not making eye contact, fetching your car keys off the wall “ well i bet youre missing your home right ? i can drive you home now if you want “ you also grab the plastic bag off the floor by the corridor
Armin seems to stiffen again , eren now chuckling , his hands stuffed in his sweatpants , noticing how the blonde boy seems way to nervous around you guys . armin looks at eren momentarily before he looks at the floor again ‘ how the hell do you guys look so good this early in the morning ‘ he thinks ‘ meanwhile here he is looking all messed up ‘
“I actually dont live too far away, i can walk home by myself “ armin lies straight out of his teeth , clearly not doing it well judging by the look of your face . youre not convinced seeing as the whole reason why he’s here in the first place was because he was wandering alone.
“ id feel much better knowing that someone is walking you home , i dont want a repeat of what happened yesterday .” you bite your lip, now staring more intensely at the boy in front of you
Armin mentally groans ‘ damn you and your kindness, why cant you get the hint that he doesnt want to hassle you any longer ?’
“Well um … “ he pauses, intensely thinking of a solution that doesnt involve him burdening you guys any further when he hears some shuffling and then someone handing a phone to him. Armin looks up and green eyes stare back at him
“Do you have anyone you can call ? a friend maybe to come pick you up ? “ eren suggests , reading right through the boy
“ o-oh y-yes i do umm thank you , for your phone i mean “ armin scrambles to take the phone and calls his roommate , knowing for sure she is freaking out about his whereabouts
He hands the phone back to eren and shuffles his feet “ luckily she is around the area and can pick me up in 5 minutes , i can wait outside …” you ponder for a second at this suggestions , before ultimately nodding
“Yeah sounds like a solid plan , okay , here take this bag before you head out “ you hand it over and armin looks at you and tilts his head slightly “ its your clothes from last night , i washed them and folded them , oh and your bag is also inside “ you explain while he peeks at the contents inside grief striking his face
‘How much exaclty did you do for him , he’s the worst guest ever in history , throwing up all over your bathroom ‘ he cringes at the thought. He's definitely gonna think about this experience at night,when he reminisces about all the embarrassing moments he's had in his lifetime
“Thank you guys so much for all youve done , i really do appreciate it “ armin rubs at his nape laughing out softly “ well i should get going “ he goes to the entrance, hand on the knob
“Yeah absolutely no problem , take care pretty boy ! “ you say waving , smiling brightly when you see his cheeks flush once more , eren just nodding goodbye . he waves a small goodbye before leaving , closing the door gently . sighing in relief when he got out.
Armin walks out into the street and sure enough there is his roommate , waiting and the look on her face looks not so pleasantly happy .he knows what is going to happen. he opens the car door ready to hear her badgering soon enough
“Look , mikasa , i can ex-” not so shortly as he begins his sentence, she yells out
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOUVE BEEN ? DO YOU KNOW HOW WORRIED SICK I WAS WHEN YOU DIDNT PICK UP MY MANY PHONE CALLS ? ARE THOSE BANDAGES IM SEEING? “ armin winced at her reprimations, slowly sinking further into the passenger seat as she kept rambling, knowing that he has to face her wrath for the whole drive home .
he still has no clue as to what exactly happened last night, the only thing he can do is hope his memories would come back soon and clear up his many questions
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sirisuorionblack · 3 years
Text
The doctor (part 3)
Cedric Diggory x Reader
Summary - When a 25-year-old single father Cedric Diggory was woken up by his daughter to get shots he knew something was going to happen but not in the slightest bit did he know he was going to find new love. (Muggle AU)
Warnings - none
A/N Ahhh I am soooo sorry! I'm updating this is series after ages because my interest shifted from Cedric but its back! So have these! Sorry once again!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
You were indeed anxious for what might be the result of the hearing and that alone made it difficult for you to sleep that night. After tossing around in the bed trying to find a comfortable spot for you to fall asleep, you gave up the attempt and made a good decision in opening the psychology textbook that you have read over and over again for years.
Your eyes were blankly staring at the words that made no sense in your mind, the thoughts of the hearing leaving no space for it. You knew how much it meant to Charlotte and Cedric and you could only hope for Cedric to get his daughter’s custody.
It was wonderful seeing Cedric with his little girl. You watched as he held her in his arms, looking at her as though he would bring the stars down for her. You had also seen her mother in a situation that made you simply despise her. How could she leave such an angel in the care of a man who loved her so dearly and hope for them to be a family? And then fight for custody of the very daughter she left after years? It would always bewilder you.
Charlotte was indeed such an angel, and you could see how much she adored you that immediately felt a surge of protectiveness washing over you when you were with her.
You didn’t know when sleep had overtaken you but the next thing you remember was someone shaking your shoulder.
You blinked your eyes to clear the sleep out of them and the first thing you saw was Cedric’s sparking grey eyes, smilingly in hurry although never failing to captivate you. He stopped fretting for a moment before shaking his head and whispered, “I have to leave now. Is it alright for you to take care of Charlotte today, right?” 
“You're leaving already?” You checked the time on your phone and it was 4 in the morning. 
“Yeah, you will be able to be alone with her, right?” Cedric asked, concerned. 
You nodded, “Yep,” you managed to stand up straight and followed him outside your room. Cedric grabbed a cereal bar from the kitchen counter on his way to this door. 
Before leaving he turned around, looking at you unsure, “If you don’t mind can you be in her room? There is a couch in the room. I'm sorry but she is afraid to-”
”Cedric,” you chuckled, “I will be with her, don’t worry. She's in safe hands,” 
He breathed of relief and looked at you for a second standing there awkwardly. You took a deep breath and pulled him in for a quick hug, not providing Cedric enough time to sink in the comfort of your arms, and think of dropping all his plans. 
“Your gonna rock it, I promise,” You smiled at him and patted his arm. Cedric looked relieved when he stepped out of the door and took a deep breath. He dreaded the day. 
You sighed and closed the door after him. Dragging your feet to the kitchen, you gulped down a glass of water. It was all a mess beyond any ability of comprehension in the sleepy state of your mind. Blindly complying with what was told, you left to Charlotte's room, silently. 
Smiling at the elegantly placed pillow and blanket on the couch, you glanced at a fast asleep Charlotte, and allowed the sleep to take over you once again.
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"(Y/N)?" For the second that day, you had shot up in alarm, only to recognise a similar pair of shining grey eyes and relax.
“Charlotte, what’s wrong?” You sat up and asked with a hoarse voice. She whimpered and looked at her hands. You noticed how her breathing rate quickened and her bottom lip wobbled and you didn’t need to be a detective to know what had happened.
“Come here, honey,” You opened you arms as an invitation for her to climb onto your lap which she did without an ounce of hesitation.
“Its alright, darling, I’m right her with you,” you said and patted her back. You rocked the two of you slightly and tried to calm her down.
“I love you,” you heard her whisper and felt your breath get caught in your lungs. You blinked twice and slowly let out a breathy chuckle.
“What did you say? Charlotte? Darling? You asleep, already?” you said but received no response in return.
You sighed and mumbled an “I love you too,” back and leaned against the couch. Rubbing circles in the small of her back and you were certain you would not be able to sleep any longer.
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Charlotte had laid in your arms till noon and prevented you from doing almost anything. Unable to control you’re bladder anymore, you laid her on the bed and quickly left to the restroom.
When you returned to the bedroom after brushing your teeth, you were thankful to see Charlotte stirring, “Good morning, love,” You greeted warmly and grinned. Crawling onto the bed, you sat next to her and leaned against the headboard.
“Good morning,” She threw an arm over your lap and rolled over towards you, her eyes still closed. You chuckled and ran your finger through her curls.
“Where is daddy?” she asked and pulled away to look at you in the eyes.
You sighed and thought of reason to tell her, not having the energy to tell her he was out in a court fighting for her with her mother. You resorted to a simpler and easier answer, “Your daddy is out, darling, he will be back soon,”
“When will he be back?”
“I don’t know, honey. He will call us when he leaves,” you said, massaging her scalp. She hummed and pouted, “Why didn’t papa tell me he was going out?”
You took a minute to wonder why she called her father with different names at different times without any reason. You blinked and shook your head, “It was – uh – a sudden plan, darling! That’s why he couldn’t tell you because you were fast asleep when he decided it,”
“When did papa tell you?” She asked, her big eyes staring at you, hopefully, like you had answers to every question of hers; perhaps, it was trust. It wrenched your heart as you provided false answers to her question but she didn’t need to know of them just yet.
“Early in the morning. I think about 4 when my little girl was fast asleep, snoring,” You tickled her sides and watched proudly as she giggled but didn’t pull away rather moved closer to you and tugged at your hands.
“Alright, alright,” You took her into your arms and stood up from the bed, “You’re going to go brush now and I’m going to try to make you some-”
“Pancakes!” She yelled, raising her hand in the air.
You chuckled, “Pancakes, is it, then!” you let her down and pushed her gently to the bathroom, “Now, go brush,”
She stood at the entrance of the bathroom, and turned to glare at you with her hands on her hips, “Papa used to brush me,”
You narrowed your eyes at her playfully, and copied her position, “I live with you for over a week, darling. Now, go brush,”
“I can’t reach!” She whined, stomping her foot.
“Your just like your father, aren’t you?” You shook your head and took her in your arms again and placed her on your hips.
“What?” she scrunched her eyebrows, adorably.
“Both of you get what you want,” you said, pinching the tip of her nose, lightly. She giggled and buried her head in your shoulder.
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Hours passed and Charlotte spent the time without much thoughts of her father rather warmed up to you in the comfort of your couch, happily watching Disney movies with you. Then, came your much awaited ring. You darted to your phone and picked up immediately, Charlotte bounding after you and jumping up and down the couch as you answered the call.
“Hello?”
“The hearing is finished. I’m coming home, now,”
“How did it go?”
“I’ll tell you everything when I get there,”
“Alright. Oh, wait, wait, don’t cut the call, Charlotte wants to speak to you,”
“Yep,”
“Daddy!”
“Hey darling. Are you enjoying your day, puppy?”
“Yes, papa! (Y/N) is soo fun! When you come back can you get me some chocolates, papa? You told me you’d get them,”
“Of course, my love!”
“Love you, papa!”
“Love you too, darling!”
“Papa is coming home with chocolates!” She jumped into your arms. You chuckled and spun around with her secured in your clutch.
Within fifteen minutes of her excitement, the door bell rang and Charlotte was more than happy to receive her father. Opening the door for her, you anxiously leaned to look at Cedric, worried of the result of the hearing.
You were relived to see him catch his daughter in his arms and pepper her face with kisses, a wide grin on his face, “I love you, darling!”
“I love you too, daddy!” Her little arms were wrapped tightly around his neck and her head was buried into the crook of his neck when he stepped into the home.
The beautiful grin on his handsome face brought tingles to your stomach and you felt your heart swell.
‘We won,’ he mouthed, tears stinging his eyes. The years of struggle finally paid off and he had his daughter t himself. He no more had to fight to be her father. He no more had to leave her alone to that damned hearing every other time.
You placed a hand over your mouth and nodded asking for a reconfirmation. A  rapid nod in response and both of you resisted the urge from just pulling the other into a tight, warm hug.
“Puppy?” Cedric leaned back to look at charlotte in the eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed over her cheek as he kissed her forehead, “You’re my little girl, darling,”
Charlotte giggled although he could see the confusion in her eyes. Cedric ruffled her hair, “We are going out tonight,”
“Where, papa?!” Charlotte asked, smiling widely making his heart swell with love and pride.
Cedric kissed her cheek, “To the restaurant down the street,”
“Can we get shawarmas!?” She asked, excitement bubbling in her eyes.
“Anything you want, my love!” Cedric said and looked back at you, “Get ready, alright? We will leave within half an hour,”
“Me too?” you asked, taken aback.
“Yes, of course,”
“Uh, alright,” You fiddled with your fingers, nervously and nodded your head, hesitant, “Sure,”
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The sun was already setting by the time you left the home, dressed casually. Cedric and you stood on either side of Charlotte, who held your hands tightly and spoke as she pleased.
To the onlookers the three of you would have looked like a little happy family with a loving father, a caring mother and their little princess. They would have noticed him looking at you with much admiration in his eyes and watch your eyes skim over his handsome features when he wasn’t looking. They would have seen love weaving the three of you into a tightly knit family wrapped in warmth and protected against everything.
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teddy06writes · 3 years
Text
Come Back Home
requested by this anon: “ hello!! i was wondering if i could have a karl x sapnap x quackity x reader where the reader falls out with one of them and there’s loads of angst, but it ends in fluff and just cute stuff. i love ur writing so much, thank you <3″
as well as this one: “ hello :D may i request some angst then comfort scenes for a karl x quackity x sapnap x reader? “
so....
sapnap x karl x quackity x reader (lowkey musician!reader)
trigger warnings: yelling, swearing, mentions of hook ups, drinking, angst
premise: you think you might be falling out of love, or something close to that with your boyfriends, so you ask to take a break until you can figure things out, and nothing seems to feel right till you go back; song credit is Come Back Home by Anthony Ramos {I changed parts of the second verse}
(y/n/n)- your nickname
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“I- I never said I knew that I was!” You argued. 
Alex folded his arms, “What about them? You fucking lying to them too?” 
You ran a hand through your hair, “I’m not lying about anything!” 
“YOU JUST SAID YOU WERE FALLING OUT OF LOVE!” you jumped, surprised at his yelling, “So if that’s true why’d you fucking tell us you loved us last night?” 
“I don’t know if I am Alex! I need time to figure this out!” 
“So it’s just me then. You just want to leave me!” 
“I might be falling out of love with all of you!” You shakily admitted, desperately searching your boyfriends eyes, “And I’m terrified! I don’t want to fall out of love! I don’t want to leave any of you! I just need time to figure this out.” 
Alex sat in silence, refusing to look at you. 
Shakily you grabbed the bag you’d been packing when he found you, just a few of the outfits you kept at that apartment, along with your music stuff, “I’m going back to California, just for a month or so.” 
“I thought you sold the apartment.” He sounded to blunt, to broken. 
“I pulled out of the deal, and my stuff hadn’t been shipped yet. I- I don’t want to leave Alex,” You slipped your bag over your shoulder, “I- didn’t want it to be like this.” 
“So you were going to leave when they were out.” He spat. 
You froze in grabbing your guitar, “I was going to try and make this hurt less. If me leaving to find out if I should stay or not is what it takes, then why make it hurt more?” 
“What am I suppose to tell them?” Alex asked desperately. 
“The truth. I’ll be back when I figure this out.” 
“And if it isn’t what I want it to be?” 
You took a deep breath, “I think you’ll know.”
You walked out the door, trying to ignore the way small sobs filled the apartment as you left, tears working there way into your own eyes.
~~
California, though isolating you enough to sort out your feelings, was far too numbing to provide Alex the technical closer he thought was coming. 
Karl had been heartbroken when he found out you left, and the few months that you’d been gone had only helped to break him more, especially as the only news they got about you came from the updates on your upcoming album. 
Nick had been equally heartbroken,  though somewhat mad, he’d learned to live with it, instead focusing his angry energy into keeping his boyfriends together and functional. 
~~
You sighed, sitting up as your apartment door closed. 
You knew it was wrong, deep down, these one night stands, and evenings lost in a haze of alcohol, deep down, you missed them, and none of this was making the feelings you’d tried to press back down after the first experimental hook up. 
Rubbing at your eyes you quietly began to get dressed, ideas running through your mind. 
Pulling up twitter you found yourself scrolling through Alex’s twitter, he seemed to be doing okay, Nick was, well he hadn’t been active on twitter before, but Karl’s twitter remained silent. 
That was what got you worried. 
Karl was never not active on twitter, but even his second account had remained quiet since you left. 
Grabbing a bottle of water you sat down, thankful for your moment of clarity as you picked up your guitar, ready to get to work. 
“I only feel the ground under my feet...”
This was going to be a huge gamble.
~~
“Guys!” Karl called softly from his place on the couch. 
“Yeah baby?” Alex yawned. 
“(y/n) just posted a new single on youtube.” 
“So?” Nick asked, bitterly, “Why should we care?” 
“Oh, I- I was just wondering, if we could watch it. We- we don’t have to.” Karl said softly. 
Nick softened upon hearing his voice, “Alright, lets see it.” 
They cuddled together next to Karl as he pulled up the video, the description reading, ‘come back home, less of an apology, more of a plea’.
The video opened on a dark room, partially lit by a lamp in the corner, only about half of your face was visible, as well as the guitar in your hands. 
You took a deep breath a sighed, before beginning to play. 
The screen split to show the recordings of you playing the other parts, both in similar dark rooms. 
“I had to leave, to see, how good I had it, I had it, I had to go, to know how good I had it. Would you have me if I came back home?” 
They watched as the scene shifted, you as you walked through a park in LA, “My mama said when I was six years old,  I would always sit up by the window, I would always say this city way too cold. Wish there was another place I could go She would ask where and I would say,” 
There was an arieal of the same park, “Where, anywhere, tell me where 'cause I'm scared, If I'm here then I'll never see paradise, I just wanna see paradise.”  As you repeated the chorus, back in your room, and then moved on to singing about them, “Yeah I’d been dating Nick for three years, we’d made a promise, cause we were just kids in college, thinkin’ bout our tomorrows, 
“then we met Karl, course we had to keep ‘im, he made the grass even greener, cause theoretically he made us even more complete, 
“but then along came Alex, and we pulled him in, but he looked me in the eyes when I said ‘my heart isn’t in it’ , he challenged that thought, asked me ‘So where is it?’
Alex clamped a hand over his mouth, burying his head in Karl’s shoulder. 
“I said, where, anywhere, tell me where ‘cause I’m scared, if I’m here then I’ll never see paradise, I just wanna see paradise.” 
The scene changed from the park back to your room, “So I had to leave to see, How good I had it, I had it, I had to go to know, How good I had it, Would you have me if I come back home?”
The room remained dark, though your voice became a bit more upbeat as you sang, “Nothing better than my mama rice and beans, All the sound, the people yellin' on the street, The lights when I land at JFK,The cold wind when it hits me in my face,
“I only feel the ground under my feet when my boys are standin' right there next to me and Those the things that make me feel at home And that's the only paradise I know, so..” 
The room began to brighten, just a bit, as the extra voice overs were added.  “I had to leave to see, How good I have it, I have it, I had to go to know, How good I have it (How good I have it) I have it (So I'm comin' home)”
Pictures began to flash on the screen, pictures of you all together, during streams, while you were working on music, a video of you and Karl, trapped by an Alex sleeping across your laps while Nick laughed.
The beach day you’d had last year, Karl and Alex decorating your recoding spot with fairy lights, Nick with you up on his back, you and Alex singing, behind the scenes of one of Karls mr. beast videos, midnight moments, and small moments, all flooding the screen. 
“Nothing better than my mama's rice and beans (Ooh, ooh, I'm comin' home) All the sound, the people yellin' on the street, The lights when I land at JFK, (Oh, I'm comin' home), The cold wind when it hits me in my face I only feel the ground under my feet when my boys are standin' right there next to me and (Yeah, I'm gon' come back home) Those the things that make me feel at home, And that's the only paradise I know.” 
The pictures faded, and you smiled softly at the camera, “Would you have me if I came back home?” 
The video faded away, and the boys were knocked out of there trance by a knock at the door. 
Shakily Alex stood up, blinking away tears as he moved to answer it.
“(y/n).”
You smiled, “You saw the video yeah?” 
He practically burst into tears, “Yeah.” 
“So? Will you have me since I came back home?” You sang softly. 
Alex surged forward, throwing his arms around you, tears falling from both sets of eyes as he pulled you inside.
In the living room Nick was holding a still crying from the video Karl,  glaring up at you, “You had to make him cry one more time?” 
Karl sniffled, “These are good tears.” 
You smiled, setting your bag down before maneuvering to sit down with Alex still wrapped around you. 
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left for that wrong. I do love you all.” 
“We love you too.” 
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Text
Meeting and Dating Hermione Granger
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(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)
(I’m sorry but Hermione in her uniform is beautiful.)
- You and Hermione meet during your first year at Hogwarts. The two of you wound up being partners in potions class and we all know how Hermione is when it comes to her schoolwork.
- She’s very much so the “here let me do it” sort of person when she sees that you’re doing something wrong. Not that you mind; you aren’t exactly keen on getting on Snape’s bad side.
- She’s also very adamant on teaching you how to do things and having you try again; after she shows you the correct way to do them, which gives her the chance to look at you more closely and say to herself “wow she’s pretty”.
- Initially, she sort of just thinks that she’s envious of your good looks or that she finds herself looking at you merely because you’re pretty and people like looking at pretty things. It’s only after a bit of reflecting that she realizes she likes you more than a person likes flowers.
- The only logical conclusion is that she has a crush on you and …oh dear.
- Yeah, Hermione isn’t …the best with crushes. The minute she realizes that she likes you, she turns into a bit of an awkward mess.
- She’ll say somewhat strange things before nervously trying to correct herself. She’ll touch you for a bit too long or without meaning to before jumping away upon realizing what she’s doing. She’ll give you handshakes instead of hugs when you greet each other or do good on a joint project or what have you. Etc, etc, etc.
- She’ll do whatever she can to hang out with you one day while avoiding you like the plague the next; usually because she’s having a bad hair day or something similar. The boys are clueless as to why she’s acting strange but they agree to help her with whatever she asks; usually meaning that they help her hide from you.
- Once the two of you become friends; which is somewhat inevitable with Hermione and the people she likes since she’ll force herself into their lives, she’ll subtly hint at a relationship between the two of you and try to find out more about you and your type.
- There’s going to be a lot of mutual pining. Hermione’s obviously pretty so of course you’ll fall for the strong willed, activist girl who’s now your best friend. And she’s been in love with you since first year but it’ll take a while for her to admit her feelings.
- Viktor Krum probably found out Hermione liked you midway through fourth year and immediately began hyping her up, teasing and telling her to confess her feelings to you. He also probably got you a date to the Yule ball and you four hung out all night because he’s a sweetheart but I digress.
- The thing is, you’re now close friends and she doesn’t want to lose that, so she ends up spewing her feelings out in a fit of desperate frustration. She calls you an idiot, telling you that she loves you and has loved you for years, and if you’re too stupid to notice then nothing; not even her tutoring sessions, can help you, and you’re too stunned to even be offended.
- So there she is, standing there and trying to catch her breath, close to tears and embarrassed before you finally manage to find your words. You tell her that she’ll have to deal with your stupidity forever now because you like her too.
- She takes a deep breath, furrowing her eyebrows slightly and nervously saying “you …do.”, like she’s trying to quickly process what you’ve just said; as though she anticipated a wildly different response.
“Good.” She says after a moment, nodding as she does so. She says the words in a stunted, sort of relieved tone, like someone who didn’t expect an issue to be resolved as soon as it was.
- The two of you have your first date at Hogsmeade where you sort of just wander around the village and talk, trying to bond while enjoying a bit of privacy. Harry and Ron probably show up midway through and she tries her best to signal with her eyes that this “isn’t a good time” before she’s forced to give a pointed, whisper yelled “could you two please leave”. 
- Hermione tends to give a lot of cheek and head kisses to the people she’s close to and you would not be exempt from this. Just saying. 
- The two of you share your first kiss about a month or so after your first date. She’d been stressing over something and you’d laid a hand on her shoulder, reassuring her that everything was going to be alright until she finally managed to calm down. 
- Later on, as you were getting up to leave, she’d leaned over and planted a soft, somewhat chaste kiss on your lips before you both made your way out of the room. You had smiles on your faces for the rest of the day. 
- Congratulations, you’ve managed to score the brightest witch in all of Hogwarts. Consider yourself a very lucky girl; she certainly considers herself to be one.
- The wizarding world seems pretty progressive all things considered so pda isn’t a taboo when it comes to your relationship. She’s more than happy to engage in it though she keeps it polite and innocent out of pure preference. 
- Her slinging her arm around your shoulder. 
- Tight hugs; especially when you’re reunited after a long time or you come back from something dangerous. 
- Handholding. 
- Cheek and head kisses. 
- Sweet and soft kisses. 
- Abrupt and passionate kisses; usually after a surge of emotion courses through her. She’ll occasionally get flustered and apologize for getting ahead of herself, as though you’re not in a relationship. 
- She usually just calls you by your given name but occasionally she’ll call you something like honey or dear. 
- The two of you cuddle laying on your sides with your arms wrapped around each other. Sometimes Crookshanks will wiggle his way between your bodies and you’ll get a nose full of cat hair but you get used to it. 
- Speaking of the orange baby: plucking cat hair from each other’s clothing and taking turns snuggling the endearingly ugly creature.
- Helping her carry all the books she lugs around.
- Getting matching bracelets/necklaces.
- Helping her with her hair.
- Compliments; the two of you are constantly praising each other. She tends to comment on your schoolwork like how you’ve improved so much or congratulating you on doing so well on an exam.
- She’s “secretly” really fond of making you little cards and origami. She lives for Valentine’s Day and you can’t help but find it adorable.
- Supporting S.P.E.W. and wearing one of her badges; whether or not you agree with it.
- Quiet days spent inside. The two of you usually just sit in one of your dorms or the library, talking about whatever comes to mind or doing your own things.
- Study dates.
- Assuring her she’s going to do great on tests. She always gets really stressed and frazzled before a big exam so you always have to make sure she breathes and relaxes a bit.
- She’s always jumping to help you in any way she can, and she always has the knowledge to do so.
- Writing letters to each other over the summer.
- Sitting together in the courtyard.
- Going to The Three Broomsticks and getting a bit tipsy off butter beer. She’s a lightweight.
- Having a cute little book club. The two of you take turns reading to each other and discussing the different novels you’ve read.
- Playing the piano together.
- Baking together.
- Play fighting. The two of you do that cute, grabbing each other’s arms and trying to push each other while giggling sort of thing that couples do.
- Having your dates interrupted by the boys. The two of them are going to be completely clueless about your relationship for a while before finally catching on and giving you more space; unless something oh so important happens.
- Tagging along and helping the golden trio whenever you can. You’re a certified member of their clique by now.
- Cheering the boys on at Quidditch games together. The two of you are usually huddled close to keep warm. 
- Speaking of cheering: she's your biggest cheerleader. She’s always wishing you good luck and rooting for you and giving you an enthusiastic whoop; even if it makes people give her funny looks. 
- Breaking her out of her shell and getting her to let loose a little more. She feels the need to constantly be put together and perfect and you do your best to reassure her that, sometimes, she can just have fun. 
- Dancing together. 
- Whenever she’s really excited and/or really wants your attention for one reason or another and you have homework, she always ends up impatiently snatching it with a “give it here” before doing it for you and launching into whatever it is she wanted from you. 
- Being on the receiving end of her scolding looks. You always get one if you’ve done something or are doing something wrong. 
- Comforting her. She’s a bit sensitive and cries sort of easily; particularly when she’s angry which she gets embarrassed about, so you’re always there to make her feel better.
- She’s constantly checking you over and taking care of you when you’re hurt and/or sick. It helps to have a half blood girlfriend who knows nearly every spell like the back of her hand.
- She always just seems to understand you and know how you’re feeling. She’ll always be there to give advice and comfort you.
- Defending her from wizard racism. You might not stand up for yourself but you sure as hell are willing to hex a man half to death for saying something about her. 
- She has a habit of grabbing onto you when she’s scared so expect to have her wrapped around you or holding your hand in a death grip whenever anything spooky occurs.
- Hermione is smart enough to tell when something is entirely platonic so she doesn’t get jealous very often. It’s only when someone shows actual interest in you that she gets a bit self conscious. She can usually keep herself in check but she’ll occasionally tell you that they were flirting with you in an exasperated tone before you reassure her that you don’t want them.
- She’s more protective in the “I’m going to take care of you” sort of way but she has been known to throw a punch at or use a hex on someone who hurts you or your feelings. She worries over you a lot so rest assured, if you’re upset/hurt, she’ll be right by your side fussing over you.
- She hates being wrong so that’s where most of your arguments probably stem from. You really don’t have a lot of arguments though, all things considered. She’s perfectly capable of communicating her feelings so you rarely need to fight about anything; at least not for long.
- She has a habit of holding grudges and won’t want to admit she’s wrong so expect her to take a bit of time before she says she’s sorry. If she’s proven right then she’ll pointedly say that “well, someone owes someone an apology” but if she’s proven wrong she’ll admit that she owes you one.
- She’s a big softie so she tells you that she loves you quite a bit; mainly in private though she isn’t afraid to say it in public.
- She’s gonna go places and she’s taking you with her. After everything that happened, the two of you enjoy a peaceful, fulfilling life together and she couldn’t be happier.
166 notes · View notes
crescentsteel · 3 years
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Keeping a Secret - Part 6
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pairing: Tsukishima x f!manager of Sendai Frogs genre: sexual tension/crack/fluff/slow burn wc: 7.1k
Part 5 || Part 7 || masterlist
[a/n]
I’m sorry for the slow update (As you know, I finished my other mini series last week and I was just a ball of exhaustion, until now tbh)
I think we’re halfway along the story now. I think. Lmao. 
AO3 link is on the masterlist’s page.
Let me know if you want to be part of the taglist uwu
No one budges - not Tsukishima, not the team, not even you. You scram the insides of your brain, trying your absolute hardest to come up with a panic-stricken solution on how to remedy the carelessness brought by your surge of pride from winning.
You can feel your heart pounding on your chest. Or maybe it's Tsukishima’s against yours. You can’t tell at this point and you don’t bother trying to. You push your cognitive skills to its maximum as you strive to think for a fix for your current predicament.
Luckily, you’re not a university scholar for nothing.
You release Tsukishima and open your arms wide to the next person you lay your eyes on.
“Kyou-kun! Good job,” you manifest the joy on your face as you come up to Kyoutani for the similar hug you just gave Tsukishima.
Like Tsukishima, Kyoutani also stills when you embrace his perspiring body. Kyoutani is not a touchy person, but unlike Tsukishima, you know he’s fond of you. So he doesn’t push you away. Rather, he awkwardly pats you at the back.
“T-thanks,” he says with his low, raspy voice. You beam at him and move on to the next player until you’ve hugged all six on the court.
When you come back to the benches, there’s an organized line of the rest of the Sendai Frogs.
You blink quizzically for a few seconds, wondering why, until you realize that they’re waiting for their turn as well.
“Aww, you guys!” you gush dotingly at how adorable they are. Yet, you can’t indulge them.
“Maybe next time? You need to line up already,” you remind them. They all groan downcastedly, but Coach Mira castigates them immediately.
“What the hell are you all sighing for? You won. Stop dawdling around and fall in line over there, not here!”
The guys snap out of it and do as they’re told. Before Coach Mira joins them, she shoots up an eyebrow at you, probably looking for an explanation for your behavior.
“Sorry, Coach.” You chuckle as you apologize for getting the team a bit sidetracked, but provide no reason why you did so. “Won’t do it again,” you supplement the apology.
She lets it go casually and lines up with the team as well.
Once the match is officially done, you head over to the restroom. You enter one of the cubicles quickly and lock its door, you knock your head on it.
‘What is wrong with you, you dumb bitch!’ you lambaste yourself while staring at tiles with petrified eyes as you replay the scene again.
When you made the deal with Tsukishima, you were confident that there wouldn’t be problems with hiding what you two have. He is one of your athletes first and foremost; that hasn’t slipped out of your mind. Yet for one moment there, you blurred the line that you and Tsukishima had established.
You got cozy with him when you’re not in private--when you’re not supposed to. It was just a hug, but still, it was something when you’ve made the whole Sendai gymnasium your audience.
You’re the one who even assured Tsukishima that no one will know about your set-up. Tough luck, you’re also the first one to mess up.
You bang your head on the cubicle door again. The sound of your frustrated groan echoes through the whole bathroom. After a while, you take a deep breath and unlock the cubicle. You go back out to the halls.
When you turn left to head for the bus, you’re startled at the presence of the blonde that was just in your mind. Tsukishima is there, leaning against the wall next to the door you emerged from.
“Fuck! You scared me,” you exclaim.
“Tell me about it,” he replies with a straight face. Despite the nonchalance, you know there’s meaning behind his short retort.
You scan the area, looking for any other member of the team who might be present. When you see none, you drag Tsukishima outside to a secluded area at the side of the gym. Once there, you check around again just to be sure no one will pass by.
Tsukishima just watches you acting in distress, waiting for whatever it is you’re going to say. Obviously it’s important enough to you that you tugged him all the way here. Once you’re done confirming that the coast is clear, panic sets in your face.
You clutch his jacket and start lamenting. “I’m so stupid, Tsukki! Oh God. They’re gonna find us out. We’re screwed!”
He thought that you were just going to explain and apologize for your slip-up earlier. He was stupefied when you did it. He’d probably be giving you an earful right now had you not resolved your mishap before it became an object of inquiry to the others. Admittedly, he was still planning to scold you a bit. However, seeing you this freaked out about it makes him change his mind..
“I’m so sorry!” you go on as you drive yourself deeper to hysteria.
He can’t understand why you’re having this kind of reaction. You solved the problem. You hugged five huge, sweaty men to make up for it. That was a convincing distraction for testosterone-filled players who just won a match.
“Can you calm down? I do-”
“Maybe we should stop it already,” you suggest strongly, cutting him off as perturbation clearly clouds your judgement.
This throws him off. The idea didn’t cross his mind at all. He was just going to reprehend you to be mindful, not call off the agreement you two made.
He doesn’t mind it anymore - kissing you. Sometimes, they’re more enjoyable than he initially anticipated them to be. Most importantly, they’re harmless. They’re just meaningless kisses born out of what little attraction you two have for each other. No one is getting out of line. You don’t go beyond kissing. You both act like the deal doesn’t exist unless it’s just the two of you in your room.
That’s why he is willing to let your mistake go, apart from the fact that you were successful in covering it up.
But instead of contesting your suggestion, he says, “If you say so.”
Even though he’s accepted that kisses from you are allowable, if you want to back out from it, why the hell should he stop you?
“Right??” you persistently convince him even though he basically said yes already.
“Right,” he presses on as well to satisfy your apparent need for him to agree with you.
His answer effectively calms you down as you let go of his jacket and sigh a breath of relief. You swiftly regain composure and face him with your trademark sassiness. “Awesome,” you say with a reassured smile.
“You go ahead first so Coach won’t ask me to chew your ass for taking too long to get on the bus.”
“And you?”
“I’m the manager. I’m always the last to get on the freaking bus.”
He turns around and walks back to the bus. That’s strange. He thought you love taking advantage of every opportunity there is for you to pick on him. He might be wrong.
He can be sure about one thing though: you really are the manager who looks out for everyone, including him.
Maybe that’s why it bothers you so much. Above all else, you are their manager. So when you acted upon something other than such in the court, you lost your cool.
Oh well.
It’s not as if scrapping the deal off is a loss of any kind. He’s gained some sort of fun from it. That’s that. Nothing more. Nothing less.
--
Tsukishima knocks for the second time. He wouldn’t have bothered knocking since it’s your scheduled time to meet today, but he also doesn’t want to barge in without your permission. So he knocks again.
Sure enough, it opens this time. Yet, no one’s there to meet him.
“Tsukishima...”
His eyes drop further down to where your voice came from. You’re on your knees, your head faced down on the floor, and your arm reaching on the doorknob where your hand is latched onto.
What is it this time? What kind of antic will you throw his way? He waits for you to do something unearthly again, readying himself for anything you might surprise him with.
But nothing. You just stay where you are while he stands still.
You groan weakly and ask, “Did you not get my text?”
He slouches down and gets on your level, still not discarding the thought that you have a trick up your sleeve, and you’re waiting to spring it on him.
“What text?” He didn’t check his phone on the way here so he doesn’t know.
You lift your chin to face him while he anticipates your big reveal -- your comedic idea of the day -- but it doesn’t come. What greets him are your squinted eyes, almost beet red cheeks, and pale lips.
“Not today,” you struggle to say which comes out raspy and frail.
He instantly reaches for your forehead to confirm his speculation. His eyes widen with worry when his palm touches your skin. Even without a thermometer, he can confidently conclude that you’re sick. Not just sick, you’re burning with fever.
He looks behind you and sees your laptop open with a mug filled with brown streaks of fried liquid he can only assume to be coffee.
“Jesus Christ,” he hisses. You really won’t fucking stop at nothing even if you’re literally sick already.
He peels your hand off from the doorknob. He scoops your legs and waist with ease and stands up.
“H-Hey,” you protest. You’re gravely debilitated so you do not move at all aside from a hand feebly clutching his shirt for support. He kicks the door close and walks over to your bed.
“Do you have a fucking death wish, y/n?”
Even with his harsh tone, he’s extra careful to duck down from your top bunk because he’s too big for the damn thing. If he’s not mindful, he’ll surely bump his bed on the metal frame.
He delicately lies you down on your bed as he manages to sit beside you without hurting himself.
Your eyes are closed and your whole face screams of discomfort. Your mouth opens as you scuffle the words to come out.
“Go home. You’ll get...sick too. Game soon,” you whisper hoarsely.
As usual, you’re still thinking about the team. Is it always everything else before yourself? Don’t you really know how to take a fucking break? It’s an eyesore. Watching you slowly but surely deteriorate yourself is more taxing than handling your childish nonsense.
He’d love to give you an earful of his thoughts about your pressing behavior, but it’s not what you need to hear at the moment. “Who should I call to be here?” he asks instead.
You force your eyelids to open and look at him. “No one. I can take care of…,” you trail off as your eyes begin to flutter close again.
He can’t decide if it’s funny or foolish that you think you can take care of yourself when you can’t even finish your sentence. “Right,” he says, unable to help himself from sounding sarcastic despite your situation. It’s just so stupid how this easily could be avoided if you didn’t push yourself too hard.
He’s in no way responsible for you. He should just walk out like you said. You did this to yourself. There’s no reason for him to stay there.
Yet, he puts down his bag and takes off his jacket.
“Do you have a medicine kit?”
His question is no longer heard. You’re already passed out. He stands up and starts looking around your room for anything that resembles a first aid kit. If you do have one, you didn’t place it where someone can easily see it.
He sighs as he’s left with no choice but to go out and buy the stuff you need. He can’t possibly go through your things. It feels like an invasion of your privacy.
When he comes back from the pharmacy, he’s expecting that you’d ease up even a bit since you finally stopped working. But when he sits beside you again, he can see the same worrisome distraught wrinkling your pretty face.
Alt hough he doesn’t want to disturb you, he has to. He needs to feed you, get you to take medicine, wipe you with cool compress, chang e your clothes, then tuck you back in bed. After that, he still needs to stay to make sure your stubborn ass won’t get back to working once you feel a tiny bit better.
He feels all his facial muscles droop down at the amount of chores he needs to do for you. He really shouldn’t bother. He can just turn a blind eye and go home, leave you alone since you brought this upon yourself.
But there he is, tending to your needs for no substantive reason other than him being a decent person. Well, he’s already taken the first step, so screw it.
He can still work on his own uni requirements while he watches over you anyways.
Although you resisted a bit at first, your own lack of strength makes you give in to his attempt to cater to your sickly needs. The feeding and the medicine was an easy task. You were practically a lifeless doll and just went with whatever he tells you to do.
Now that he’s in your bathroom with a small basin of cool water and a small towel hanging on his shoulder, he contemplates on how to proceed with the next step: a sponge bath. He should just hand you the towel along with a new set of clothes, leave the room, then come back after a few minutes.
Because he is not doing it.
He won’t be undressing you and wiping your naked body. Just no. You should gather whatever energy you have left because you’ll be doing that all on your own.
He dips the towel in the basin and squeezes the excess water out of it. He puts the moist towel in a container and goes back to your bed.
“Hey, sit up for a bit.”
You groan softly, but does as you’re told. He puts the small plastic case with the towel on your bed and helps you get up. “I’ll get you a new set of clothes, then wipe yourself down,” he instructs you.
You let out one short hum of approval, so he goes to your drawers. He pulls the first shirt and bottoms he sees. As long as you have your blanket, it should be fine if you’re not wearing thick clothing.
When he turns around, he finds you holding the wet towel to your shoulder, completely still as you rest against the wall by your bed. You fell asleep with the towel soaking up your shirt.
“Crap,” he curses as he rushes back to you.
He places your fresh clothes to the side and hurriedly removes the towel off of you. He’s about to shake you back to consciousness but aborts his plan as soon as he touches your other shoulder.
You look like you really want to do it yourself as well. Even now, he can see minute movements from your fingers as if you’re still trying to follow his directions earlier.
Goddamn it. It’s really up to him now, isn’t it?
He glances at you one last time, thinking of another way out. If you hadn’t gotten your shirt wet, he would have ditched the sponge bath idea already. Now he’s left with no choice but to proceed with it.
Whatever. It’s just a human body for Christ’s sake. He shouldn’t be as alarmed as he currently is. He’s seen a female human body before. Yours should be no different.
He takes a deep breath and gently tugs up the shirt you’re wearing.
‘They’re just mammary glands,’ he repeats in his head but makes sure his eyes never land anywhere near the blob lump of fat on your chest.
He gets to work, brushing the cool towel starting on the sides of your face, then down to your neck. You must only be half-asleep because you lift your chin up a bit to allow him access to the column of your neck. He keeps his eyes on it as his hand travels down a bit further.
He spreads the coolness of the towel on your chest, but as soon as he feels a particular softness, drags his hands back up. With his hand still on your chest, he feels the pace of your breathing quicken a bit. When shoots his eyes up to your face, you’re already looking at him with dazed eyes and slightly agape mouth.
Beautiful. Too fucking beautiful for his liking.
It’s ridiculous. People are supposed to look like shit when they’re sick, not inviting.
A certain delicate temptation kicks in, urging him to back away a bit to reward himself with a quick sweep of your semi naked figure.
‘No,’ he grounds himself.
He’s not that barbaric. He’s not doing this so he has an excuse to ogle at you.
So why is he doing this?
With the turbulent thoughts reigning in his mind, he unknowingly squeezes the moist towel he’s holding against your skin.
The cool water drenching from his palm distracts him from his pondering. Reflex makes him look at his hand and involuntarily follows the slow trickle of water down the supple mount of flesh he’s been meaning to avoid looking at this whole time.
He realizes he’s been staring, but he’s too enthralled to stop. He lets his eyes wander further down, still watching how the droplet glides to your stomach. It gets absorbed by the fabric as it reaches down the waistband of your shorts.
The absence of the water he’s been trailing with his eyes snaps him out of his trance.
What the fuck is he doing?
He quickly moves on to your arms, patting your skin aggressively and haphazardly so he can finally get this cumbersome chore over with.
When you recover from this, he’s going to barrage you with a litany of fulmination on your self-destructive habits.
He’s supposed to wipe your thighs and legs too, but the idea is already tossed away as his train of thought is antagonizingly twisted today.
As fast as he can, he puts on the shirt he got for you. He was being gentle previously, but his priority at present is to cover up your exposed body away from his sight.
When he successfully clothes you, he gently lays you down again. He pulls the blanket to your shoulders and looks at your overall state.
You look a bit better now so he goes to your study table. He tidies up your stuff and puts them aside for him to set down his own.
Finally, he can get his shit done while he waits for your fever to go down.
He’s halfway through his elective course when he hears you whimper. He ignores it the first two times, but he hears it again louder the third time, he concludes something is wrong.
When he gets to your bed, you’re shivering frantically even with your blanket covering your whole body. He quickly searches for another one and piles it over the one you already have.
It only lessens your trembling but it’s still there. Your pretty face is still ruffled with unease. He touches your arm and finds out that you’re shaking way worse than you look.
In just seconds, he slips inside the blankets and draws you in to provide you the body heat you might need. You desperately cling onto him, pressing your body to share what he silently offered. Your fingers that are clutching the back of his shirt are quivering. You sink your face on his chest with agitation, badly in need for an additional source of warmth.
His displeasure towards your self-negligence dwindles when he feels your trembling body against his. Yes, this might be your fault, but he’s certain you hate this more than he does. Not only are you in pain, but you probably see this as a waste of your valuable time. You brought this upon yourself, but you don’t deserve it.
He encases his arm on your waist and tugs you even closer. He lowers his body a bit and gently nestles your face on his neck so you can feel the direct warmth of his skin on your cheeks.
Within a few minutes, you begin to relax within his embrace. The tremors become less and less until your fingers on his shirt loosen up.
You faintly pull back to look at him. “Sorry, Tsukki,” you mumble groggily with forlorn eyes.
“Shut up,” he utters without any trace of hostility as he cups the back of your head and buries your face on his neck again.
Your grip on him slackens but you don’t let go. You ease into him with your breathing getting even and your heart beating softly against his chest. When your chills completely fade away, he’s left with nothing but the softness of your body within the confines of his touch.
He becomes more aware of your bodies tangled against each other now that you’re completely still. The plumpness of your breasts are pinned on him. Your ample lips are grazing his neck. His pinky and ring fingers are hovering just below your spine, almost touching the curve of your behind.
To make things worse, you begin letting out small moans of succor which he can hear only because you’re too close.
He should be immune to this. He’s already had his fair share of kisses with you and sometimes, it involves a lot of touching. However, it is never as intimate as this. The furthest you two have gone was when he slipped a hand underneath your shirt before your friend barged in.
Before today, he had never seen your bare body. He had never held you to the point that almost your every curve melds with his. He has never thought about what it’d be like to do more than just making out. Only now when you’re not even doing so.
He considers himself a level-headed person driven by logic and rationality, but for crying out loud, your thigh is nudging on his crotch as if challenging his self-control.
As much as he wants to keep himself in check, his own body betrays him when his dick starts to nudge back at your right thigh.
‘Breathe in, breathe out,’ he reminds himself repeatedly to calm himself down.
“Hmmm,” you snuggle even more on his neck, your moist lips tracing his skin before you press it on him as you relax even further.
Fuck.
The shameful tent in his pants is becoming painful on his jeans as his imagination runs wild. How will you sound if it's the other way around, if it's his lips that’s traveling on your neck? How will you react if it’s his palms kneading the supple flesh pressed against his chest right now? Would you blush a deeper shade of red than the one you’re wearing if he slams his…
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
He can’t decide who is more sick: you or him, who’s lusting over you despite your situation. His plan to chastise you for your own inattentiveness for your own health is back in action. He’ll make sure it's ingrained into that irresponsible, beautiful head of yours.
To distract himself from his inane fantasies, he forces himself to recall the scientific names of all the reptile species he’s aware of.  And when he’s exhausted his mental list, he moves on to whatever animal species he can think of until he dozes off with you.
--
You haven’t opened your eyes yet, but as you regain consciousness, you can tell that you had an amazing nap. For the first time, you reap the benefits of a power nap. It feels like you slept for a complete eight hours or even more. You no longer feel sick. You celebrate the after effects of the nap, stretching your legs before you get up.
You look out your window and see that the light is still a dark shade of blue so you still have the whole evening to finish what you need to do.
When you turn your glance to your table, Tsukishima’s seated on the floor with his laptop in front of him.
Why is Tsukishima here? You texted him and called off your meeting today.
Something’s off.
You don’t really remember going to bed. You just remember doing one of your subjects when you heard someone knock.
“Tsukishima,” you call his attention urgently.
He turns to you, but you can’t see his eyes from the light reflecting on his glasses from his screen. “What time is it?”
He looks back to his laptop. “It’s 5 am.”
What?!
You didn’t take a nap. You fucking slept. A more horrid realization comes to you when you remember what happened before you did. You passed out and Tsukishima fixed you up.
Shit! He’s been telling you all the time to stop overworking yourself and he had to be there and clean up the mess you did to yourself.
You panic when he sits beside you. You sit properly, hands on your lap, pressed lips, eyes on the floor as you prepare yourself for a long, tedious arduous lecture from the blonde.
“Hey.”
You slowly turn towards him, anticipating the slew of curses about to unroll from him.
“Y-yes?”
You keep your eyes leveled on his chest, embarrassed of yourself for burdening him with your unwell ass.
Instead of speaking, he inserts a thermometer in your mouth, causing you to shoot your gaze up to him. Neither of you say anything and just hold each other’s stare until the thermometer beeps.
He takes it out of your mouth and checks your temperature.
“You’re okay now,” he announces, then starts getting ready to leave. “Don’t bother coming to training later or else I’ll tell Coach that I caught you extremely sick,” he threatens nonchalantly.
Your mind is running laps on how to process everything all at once, but you decide to deal with the most pressing one.
“Uhhhh..”
He glances at you, silently waiting for what you’re going to say, but you only gape at him as well.
What were you going to say again? Shit, you actually can’t remember what it is.
He disregards your quietness and proceeds to your door. “You should just stay in. One day of missing classes won’t cost you your scholarship,” he says before he closes the door behind him.
“Wait.”
He’s gone. It’s only then you remember you wanted to say thanks.
--
When you come back to the gym two days after, everyone expresses their worry about you. You assure them that you’re completely fine now. Even with the love and concern you are showered with, your eyes scan for someone who isn’t among the players in front of you.
There he is, dribbling the ball and is about to do a jump serve. Just before he tosses the ball in the air, he looks at your direction.
“Y/n?” Kogane’s voice pulls you back to them.
“What was that?” you ask because you didn’t hear whatever they were saying.
“He was asking if you’re really okay now,” Eiji says.
You nod enthusiastically. “So stop wasting your training time on me and practice instead,” you say with cheerful authority that they’re very pleased to hear again.
Once the crowd disperses, you spring your way to the middle blocker who didn’t welcome you back.
“Hello!” you greet him sprightly.
“What?” he asks with a bored tone.
You step closer to him for the next thing you’re going to say is for his ears only. “I really appreciate what you did the other day.”
Tsukishima sees the earnest, grateful expression on your face, but what grips his attention is how refreshed you look. You look brighter than you usually do.
He was almost sure that you were going to ignore what he said about going absent on both in classes and in here, but you seem to have taken his advice with how well-rested you are.
But most of all, he didn’t expect you’d bring it up during your working hours. Neither of you talks about what happens in private when you’re the ‘Sendai Frogs’ manager,’ not his classmate, or occasional kiss-buddy .
“I don’t,” he responds vacuously to your thankful sentiment. It was a very tough night for him. When he woke up, his erection was still raging through his pants. As undignified as it was, he got himself off in your comfort room just to ease the unbearable sexual tension that was still there in the morning.
As usual, you don’t take offense from his sour remark. You chuckle whole-heartedly and pat him hard on his shoulders. “Of course you don’t,” you say mirthfully before you walk over to Coach Mira.
It was a very tough night you made him endure, but he’s relieved to see you back on your feet.
--
The team is going to the fourth match of the regular rounds. Three more after this and you get the chance to have a game from the bottom two teams from Division 1.
As you and the team march towards the court, you hear someone call Tsukishima.
“Tsukki!”
You look at whoever it is and stop when you see Kotarou Bokuto, the wing spiker of MSBY Jackals, crazy energy on court, super clean line shot.
He’s waving energetically at Tsukishima while the latter just nods at him. You grab Tsukki by his shirt and stop him from advancing any further.
“You guys go ahead. We’ll be there in a sec,” you tell Kogane who’s the person in front of you. He nods at you then walks off with the rest of the team.
“Why did we stop?” Tsukishima asks with a frown.
“How do you know Bokuto?” you ask.
“I used to train with him during high school,” he says like it’s nothing because to him it really is not a big deal. Bokuto and Kuroo practically coerced him to join their free practices when he already wanted to call it a day. Training with them was a drag - a drag that pushed him to become a better blocker.
Among the four of them who regularly practiced in the third gym, it was him and Bokuto who went professional. Even if the wing spiker is in a higher division, he still sees Bokuto as the same person who told him it only takes one hit to be hooked on the sport. Bokuto just got better at it.
Other than that, he still seems like the silly guy Tsukishima knows him to be.
“Can you introduce me?” you say as you try to hide the zeal in your eyes, but horribly failing to do so.
“Shouldn’t I go warm up?” he counters instead of responding to your question.
“I promise to be very nice to you in the three succeeding training days. Introduce me, please, ” you beseech graciously at him, insistent on meeting the athlete.
“Make it five days,” he tests to see your conviction.
But you easily agree, “Deal!”
Seeing that you won’t let this go easily, he thinks it would be better to just give you what you want.
You both walk over to where Bokuto is. Beside him is another part of the third gym, Kuroo, who’s now the official promoter of the Volleyball Association.
“Hey hey hey, Tsukki!”
“Hey,” the lack of enthusiasm in his response totally contrasts Bokuto’s. “This is-“
“Hi!! I’m Y/n, Tsukishima’s manager,” you cut him off which makes him jolt. Why even bother asking him to introduce when you’re more than capable of doing it yourself?
You grab Bokuto’s hand and shake it vigorously. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” you dramatically state, your eyes twinkling with idolatry.
Bokuto, as expected, is exceedingly glad from the adoration. He uses his two hands to shake yours and reciprocate the same energy you gave him.
“I’m such a huge fan. Personally, you’re my favorite player from Division 1. I don’t care what others say. That chest bump. Flawless save!” you drag on, endlessly showering the spiker with compliments which Bokuto is totally eating up.
He’s egging you up even more by constantly nodding, laughing, and agreeing in everything you’re saying.
Meanwhile, Kuroo and Tsukishima are just standing there watching the whole exchange.
“I’m sorry if this is a stretch, but can I hug you?” you ask almost like a tame puppy.
He’s been disregarding the entire conversation, but really? A hug? Have you no shame? Not that he cares but should you be ogling at another athlete when you’re wearing the uniform of Sendai Frogs?
Great. Go worship a big brawny dude from Division 1 minutes before your own team’s game. How thoughtless.
He imagined it would be a civil hug but then you open your arms to Bokuto and envelop him in the warmest hug he’s ever seen you give. His eyes drop to Bokuto’s limbs which are ensnared around your waist as the spiker hauls you closer to his body.
How imprudent. It was a mistake bringing you to Bokuto. You should have known it’s unwise to mix up your personal agenda with your work. You should have known that it was better if you just ignored Bokuto and made him warm up, than make him introduce you to your favorite player.
What is wrong with you?
Kuroo’s attention slips from you to Tsukishima’s change of demeanor. Tsukishima is usually unbothered, but as soon as you embraced Bokuto, Tsukishima’s mood became sour. It is an amusing sight to watch.
He never thought Tsukishima would associate himself with an individual as lively as you. But who could blame him?
He, himself, has just been watching since you fanned the ego of his old buddy. You have not graced him even a glance since you approached them. Your eyes were all set on Bokuto. You’re probably not aware that another presence is also there.
So he’ll make you be aware.
“Ehem,” he clears his throat to grab your attention, which works as you shift your gaze from Bokuto to him. “Hello,” he flashes you the best smile he has, but has no effect whatsoever at you.
The difference in treatment is drastic. While you revere Bokuto with adoration, you regard him like a nuisance. It’s not that palpable, but it’s there. You look at him like he’s an obligation to deal with.
Your smile is rehearsed and so is the cheerful “Hi” that you give him.
“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he introduces as he offers his hand. You take without hesitation, firmly gripping his extended hand for a brisk, professional handshake.
“Y/n, manager of the Sendai Frogs,” you respond in an amicable, yet refined manner. He gets his business card from his pocket and hands it to you.
“So, Miss Manager, how are the Frogs doing?” he asks to strike up a conversation.
You scrutinize his business card for a quick while then pockets it. “I believe as their manager, I, myself, represent the team more than my words can. So what do you say, Mr. Promoter?” The professionalism chips off and reveals a real slice of you - sly and mischievous, as you compose your stature and put a hand on your hip, accentuating your curves.
He crosses his arms as he eyes you from head to toe without any reservation, then back up again.
“I say the Sendai Frogs are looking hot this season,” he says with his own grin that’s just as devious as yours.
“There’s your answer then,” you give him a wink that almost makes his heart flutter.
‘Geez, lady. Take it easy on unsuspecting men,’ he thinks to himself but easily recovers as his grin spreads out.
“Oy, we should be getting back,” Tsukishima says, breaking Kuroo’s trance towards you. You snap out of it as well, agreeing with Tsukishima as you give the blonde a nod.
“It’s so nice to really meet you, Bokuto,” you tell Bokuto before turning around. Even though you’re treating Kuroo as if he doesn’t exist, he can’t help but be intrigued even more by you.
“Bye, y/n,” he says a bit loudly for you to hear since you’re already a few steps away from them.
You’re about to look back but Tsukishima puts a hand on your shoulders and starts talking to you. Kuroo would have disregarded it, but he doesn’t miss the quick glare Tsukishima throws at Kuroo and Bokuto. What’s even more eye-catching is how Tsukishima’s hand travels down a bit on your back.
You don’t take notice of it though. It might because you’re preoccupied or because you genuinely don’t mind. But for Tsukishima to do so, it’s a different story altogether.
“Hey Bokuto, did you see that?” he turns to his friend.
“Uh huh. She’s so pretty!” Bokuto squawks out, obviously not catching what Kuroo did. Kuroo just lets it go since it wouldn’t really do much even if he tries to explain. He looks back at you and agrees with Bokuto instead.
“Yeah, very pretty.”
--
Even though you’re the one who broke off the deal, you still feel the urge to kiss Tsukishima at times. He does too. You notice the way he glances at you briefly then returns to his work as soon you catch him.
It’s not awkward. There’s none of the tension-filled air, probably because you’re both aware that the impulse is there. You just silently agreed to dismiss it.
It’s all good though. It’s for the best. You don’t want another slip-up like the one from the Jaguars’ match. What’s weird is that even though you’re no longer making out, it feels like nothing has changed.
You still sit beside him. He still lets you lean on him. He still lets out nasty side comments but he’s not as rancorous as they used to be.
“You’re spacing out again,” he points out.
“That’s cause I’m done, Tsukishima,” you counter immediately while still gazing at your window across you. “Anyways, I’m gonna nap,” you announce.
He stops typing and looks at you. That’s weird. He’s always the one strenuously suggesting that you take a break when you’re feeling tired. What gives?
“Are you sick?” A bubble of unwarranted concern rises within him from your sudden inclination to take a nap.
“Oh, no. But I’m going to a party later so I need to recharge a bit.” You head to your bed and start straightening out the crumpled bedsheets.
Party? Are you out of your fucking mind? You could rest instead, make the most out of the night by catching up on sleep. But you’d rather attend a pointless party? Here he thought you were being thoughtful of your own health.
Not to mention, there might be perverts getting their hands all over you again. Obviously you can protect yourself, but wouldn’t you prefer not having one ogling and harassing you?
“Mind enlightening me how a vomit-smelling gathering is of any benefit to you?”
“Mind enlightening why it’s any of your business?” you retort instantly.
“It’s not,” he responds just as swiftly. “I’m just curious because I honestly don’t get it,” he says calmly. If you want to go to the damned party, then by all means. He really doesn’t care what you do with your free time.
“If you’re so worried, Tsukishima, you’re very welcome to come,” you tell him, mockery dripping from your invitation.
“I’d rather not,” he says dryly.
You shrug as you slip under your blanket. “Lock the door when you leave.”
“Unbelievable,” he mutters.
--
‘Truly unbelievable,’ he tells himself again as the smell of cigarette and alcohol tickles his nostrils while he sits at the bar, mulling over whatever the hell possessed him to come there.
It definitely isn’t because of you.
He’s not looking for you either nor is he worried about you.
It’s worse than he remembers. There are more people than last time and the music is banging on his eardrums.
“Are you getting anything?” the bartender asks him.
Although he absolutely detests alcohol, he feels like punishing himself tonight for lack of better judgment in coming there.
“Your worst drink.”
--
Even though you slept that afternoon, you still don’t plan on staying out too long for the party. You just wanted to catch up with some uni friends and instead of meeting them all one by one, it would be efficient if you attend this party and meet them all at once.
Although you would prefer if you just slept or watched a documentary, you think it’s necessary for you to be here. You almost don’t have any time to spend with friends. This might be your last chance to do so since it’s almost graduation.
As usual, you avoid drinking since you hate dealing with hangovers. You learned that the hard way when you had to keep up with who’s scoring points in an official match while an invisible hammer pounds your head.
So, despite the endless free shots given to you, you persistently decline. You also did not pay much attention to the dance floor to save your energy.
After a while of talking to everyone you know, you look around to check if you missed anyone. That’s when you catch a glimpse of a familiar blonde slouching by the bar.
‘ No. It’s not possible ,’ you say to yourself but you’re already smiling hard as you saunter to where he is. It’s very unlikely that it’s him but on the rare chance that he is, you’re not going to let it slip by.  
He’s facing down his glass which is joined by two empty shot glasses. You lean back with both your elbows on the counter.
“You new here?” you playfully ask. If it’s not who you think it is, you’ll just dance awkwardly to throw him off.
“I actually am,” he says as he encircles the rim of his glass with his index finger. Then he raises his face to turn to you.
When he reveals his face, you confirm that it is indeed Tsukishima, but at the same time, he looks nothing like his usual self.
The tips of his ears up to his neck are burning red while his eyes are dazed like you’ve never seen them before. But that’s not the weirdest thing.
He’s smiling. He’s fucking smiling like a happy idiot.
“Tsukishima?” you ask him for confirmation in any case that it’s just someone who looks extremely like him.
“Hmmm?” he asks with a little bit of a slur that throws you off.
As if you’re not astounded enough by the scene unfolding before you, he grabs you by the waist and lugs you until you’re situated between his thighs.
“Who did you think it was, manager?”
Part 5 || Part 7 || masterlist
taglist (those crossed out can’t be tagged)
@ameliaxo @suikrem @akaashisslave @tsumurai  @loving-unicorns106 @flairlust @geektastic84 @anaiss97 @berna-dette @just4readingfics @suteorra @xxekitten69xx @simp4tsukkii @music-is-all-i-need @keshinslittlegirl @raspberrysunshinebby @iminlovewhaikyuu @pdiddy11 @lightyagamami @sailorscout1902 @lovershaikyuu  @expectonothinfromme @finnydraws @namelessidentity @hqbeesun @yatoatyourservice @mrkozume @suzuyamitsuki @celestialarchiveshq @yongboxerrr @gomenpudding @kutiekoge @fizzfrick @flamingosis @korean-bbq @ihaterainbowsprinkles @red-lint @backtonormalthings @borpcorp @lonelyheartxn​
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willowisbunger · 3 years
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God Im Sorry (A tapeworm clef fanfic)
Before we begin. This is all for jokes. I am so sorry for anyone who has to read this. Its also just a draft and will be complete at some point. For now enjoy what little I give you.
You find yourself resting on the couch of your dearly beloveds bed quarters. You scroll through your phone looking fondly at old text messages of when you and your husband to be's first text messages. All the ridiculous nicknames you two exchanged, all the flirting, photos, and various other things you two have sent to each other over the years. You couldn't help but giggle. You find it hard to believe this all started cause you decided to help some weird blonde guy with a ukulele out with his broken leg.
You two have been dating for almost 8 years and two months ago, the man, Dr. Alto Clef. He took you on a date. Just a nice simple stroll around the woods, which ended in a nice picnic by a river. In which you saw the man you have fallen head over heels for, get down on one knee and began plucking at the strings of his ukulele. Singing a sweet melody like a song bird in the spring, before pulling out a wedding ring and asking those simple words of "will you marry me". Your heart flutters with glee as you chuckle. You feel giddy and so over joyed with happiness. Right as your giggle fit calmed down you heard the front door open, and there stood your beloved. With a wide grin on his face as he held some folders in his hands. He had a doctors appointment that day since he had been feeling strange. With his face showing his usual bright beaming smile and his three beautiful eyes showing their usual mischievous gleam, it was clear that he was in more than perfect shape.
"Heya there pumpkin. I'm home. And I've got some great news." He spoke in a raspy slightly southern voice. At first it was grating on ya, but now its like all your favorite songs combine into one incredible tune. "Welcome home sweetheart!" You chirped as you ran up to your beloved teddy bear to give him a quick peck to the lips as you hugged him close, "What's the good news teddy? I can tell from that big dumb grin of yours ya got somethin real good to tell me. What did the doctor say?" You said as you affectionately pinched his cheeks causing him to laugh as he took both your hands to hold. "Well besides me being fit as a bull. Looks like I'm gonna be eating for two from now on."
You blinked and tilted your head in confusion, slowly processing the information as you stepped back a lil. "How? Babe I never top and we always use protection. Who-" "Oh no pumpkin. I ain't pregnant" He interrupted, chuckling as he ruffled your hair. "I got a tape worm. The doc took some sonograms of my stomach to see if there were any issues and yeah, there's a lil fella in there. Look." The blonde handed you the folder, which you opened and began reading through and your face turned pale at the sight of the tape worm in the photo of an ultra sound. You gagged a lil as you shoved the folder back into clefs arm. "Babe that's not okay!!!! That's a parasite!!!! Its gonna just keep reproducing and shit and its gonna fuck up your insides." You said quite loudly, usually you were quiet but this, this was making you quite distressed. Your fiancés face turned from a smile to a disappointed frown "I thought you would've liked clef junior....".
You stood baffled at the situation before you. Your dearly beloved, just, accepting and seeming to be happy about the fact he has a god damn TAPE WORM living inside of him. You've seen some shit in your days working for the foundation. A sheet of music that makes people go bonkers and try to bleed, Kondraki -clefs ex- ridding on god damn 682, and other shit that would boggle anyone's mind. But this. THIS RIGHT HERE. Just.... Leaves you speechless. "Pumpkin?" the third eyed man spoke in a concerned tone, which rarely came from him. "Are you okay?" You held your head in your hands as you sat back down on the plush couch and just took a deep breathe, and just as quickly as you sat down you sprung back up, grabbing your jacket and zipping it up. "Babe.... I just.... I need a moment.... I'll be out for awhile.... This is just, strange even for you and I need a moment to think about this." You sped walk past your -potentially ex- husband to be to the door. You shut the door, seeing Clef's face look uncharacteristically sad at you. It hurt you a little to leave your teddy bear like that, but you still needed time to just, think and process this whole situation.
You leave the housing area for researchers and quickly the site as well. You hail a cab and as soon as you enter the bright yellow vehicle you tell the faceless driver to "Take me to the nearest motel." Which he happily complied especially with the hefty tip you gave him. You just, Needed awhile to think and god knows how long that could be so you may as well rent out a room away from that hell site foundation to have a clear mind. After all who knows what might happen. Fucking Dr. Bright could tell you to give it a chance and raise the worm together with your teddy bear or some shit. You never know with this job and the people you worked with. While in your thoughts you rented out a room, room 105. Great another reminder of your hell job, even though it was just the simple numbers of 0 and 5 you can't help but be reminded of your faceless higher ups and the fact you work for them.
You found your room and quickly made your way inside to flop down on the bed, beforehand making sure to put up the "Do not disturb" sign and locking it. You burried your face into the hard cheap pillows of this motel, missing the one you had back at your place with its soft textures and the scent of your beloved.... Which once again brought you back to the worm. That fucking worm. Why the hell was your husband so keen on keeping it? He's at least some form of scientist he should know that tape worms are a dangerous parasite that affect your health. You stare up at the popcorn ceiling just, trying to wrap your head around WHY. Why would your partner; your future husband; the one who knows everything about you and you know everything about them.... just why are they keeping the tape worm?
You of course knew the stuff your teddy was known for, sleeping with that statue after a date, killing a dangerous reality bending child, father to 166 (who you were honestly happy to take in as your new step daughter). Out of everything. The tape worm makes you break. Makes you rethink your relationship with the man you've been dating for years at this point. All you can do at this moment is sigh, hearing the phone in your coat pocket buzz. You pull it out and set it to "do not disturb" as you set the device aside on a night stand. "Maybe I should sleep it off. Maybe I'll have a clearer mind then...." You say to yourself as you threw your coat off and roll onto your side. Feeling uncomfortable in your current clothes but you didn't pack a bag so, you just ignore the discomfort until eventually.... You drift off to sleep. The shallow hum of power surging through the building and the busy city outside envelop you as you feel unconsciousness take over.
While in your state of unconsciousness you hear a silky smooth, deep yet gentle voice speak to  you. "Y/N... Y/N its time to wake up Y/N". You slowly awoke, opening your groggy eyes, what laid before you, you didn't know. They had a handsome chiseled face, comparable to the statues found in ancient Greece with even a similar tone of white marble. They had thick luxurious hair that went down to their waste, rippling muscles that went down both torso and back.... They were ungodly white though. And didn't have legs. You stared at the bottom half and slowly processed what you were looking at..... A fucking tapeworm man. A fucking humanoid tape worm what the fuck. "Im going back to bed" You said as you laid on your side, and tried to ignore the hallucination.
The tapeworm creature, slid over you just to get to the side you were facing. You shivered feeling it’s disgusting body wiggle about. You close your eyes tightly as you did your best to ignore it. You could feel yourself holding back even more shivers as you felt their cold hands touch your face. “Y/n…. Look at me…. I just want to talk.” “And I just want to be left alone and not think about tapeworm men trying to seduce me while I’m contemplating breaking up my engagement.”
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capsironunderoos · 3 years
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Fire
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DINCEMBER - December 7 - Fire
Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) X Reader
Summary: Din’s cyare has been captured and held at an Imperial base, and he stops at nothing to get her back.
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: Mentions of torture via Imps, a very angry Din, some fighting, and very brief mentions of death
Author’s Note: Ahhh this is so overdue! My student teaching started back up again after finals and I had some assignments to complete for it that kept me from writing. I had hoped to write more today, but that just didn’t happen. I hope to just post a bunch of the Dincember prompts at once in the next few days to get back on track! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!
Here’s the previous prompt:
DINCEMBER - December 4 - Hoth Chocolate
And the link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist
This is the hardest that he has ever pushed his body. 
His arms are weak and his legs tremble, but he doesn’t stop. 
He can’t stop. 
If he does, he will suffer an unbearable loss, and there is only so much he can carry, so much that he can endure. 
His blaster never leaves his hand, becoming almost an extension of himself as he fires without so much as a glance. 
It makes no difference, the blaster bolt hits homes every time. 
He is focused, his skills as a bounty hunter and Mandalorian warrior continuing to serve him as he tears through the Imperial facility. 
Din thinks to himself that the Imps are beginning to multiply faster than womp rats, but he does not stop to dwell on the implications of that thought. 
If he stops for anything, to catch his breath, to check his surroundings, he will surely collapse. 
The stress of the past few days, of the constant searching and questioning have begun to take their toll. 
He shakes the thought of stopping from his mind, forcing himself to continue, regardless of the pain in his legs, and the ache that has already settled into his shoulders. 
He has never fought so hard before. 
His hands land punches that force the receivers into the nearest wall, and his feet connect to bones with such strength that the sound of their cracking rattles around his helmet like thunder. 
He spots an officer now, watches as he is hunched over a switchboard, punching at buttons as he glances from the control panel to the Mandalorian stalking towards him. 
Din will not admit it, but the fear in his eyes spurs him on. 
Good, he thinks, let them tremble before me, let them be afraid of the repercussions of what they have done. 
When he reaches the control panel, he grabs the officer by his throat, pushing him as he walks until they reach the wall. 
The officer’s head bounces off of the wall from the force of Din’s hand around his throat, cueing his hat to fall, and the echoing thud of his skull settles into a sick sense of satisfaction in Din’s stomach. 
“Where is she?” 
He growls out from behind his helmet, and the modulator amplifies the anger tenfold. 
The officer is visibly sweating now, thick bullets running down his forehead as he tries to look anywhere but at the enraged Mandalorian in front of him. 
This only stokes the fury growing in Din’s chest, and he picks his hand up off of the officer’s neck just long enough for him to gulp in a breath of air before his hand is settled around his throat again, and this time Din does not hold back. 
He cannot stop himself before a sickening crack fills the room around him, and the officer falls to the ground below him. 
Din huffs in annoyance, his adrenaline beginning to surge again. 
The pounding of his feet begins to subside as the chemical overtakes his body, and he feels a renewing sense of energy. 
He strides over to the control panel and is pleased to see different angles of a room displayed on it. 
The feed is live, and he stands stoically still as he sees you suddenly fall into frame. 
Your clothes are tattered and dirty, and your hair falls around your face as you collide with the floor. 
He can see your chest rising and falling, and a sense of relief begins to overtake the adrenaline. 
Din silently chants for you to get up, to show him that you never gave up hope that he would come for you. 
Maker how he hopes and wishes that you never gave up on him, that you always knew that he would travel to the farthest edges of the Outer Rim just to have you safe again. 
His heart rate speeds up when he sees two stormtroopers taking their time as they walk to where you still lay on the floor. It’s clear that they are speaking amongst themselves, but he doesn’t know how to work the control panel in order to hear what they are saying. 
He watches as one of them bends down to scoop you up and off of the floor, and as soon as he does, you leap up, swinging your leg to knock his out from under him. He lands on his back, and before either of them can react, you have grabbed his blaster, aimed, and expertly killed the both of them. 
Din watches with bated breath now, and he isn’t sure he remembers how to move. 
Seeing such a small glimpse of you, and in such a drastically different mental state than the last time he saw you, is enough for him to forget how to even breathe at all. 
His brain screams at him to move, to find you, but he does not listen until he sees you run out of the frame. 
He locates the identification numbers of your cell on the control panel and begins to run. 
Din is sure that the pounding of his feet against the floor would be enough to crack the tile, but he doesn’t care. 
He pushes himself, harder than he ever has before, to reach you as quickly as he can. 
You have been gone from his presence for far too long, and he cannot stand another second without you. 
As he rounds yet another corner, he knocks into something solid, and further extends his already drawn blaster in order for it to be in front of him, pointing at whatever he just knocked over. 
His actions quickly change as he registers that it’s you. 
You quickly jump to your feet, the trooper’s blaster you had stolen aimed at Din. 
He notices your hands shaking, and he can see bruises and cuts laced around your face. He notes how swollen your right eye is, and the blood resting against your split lip. 
“Din?” You whisper, almost in disbelief, and his heart plummets to his stomach. 
Had you given up hope that he would come for you? 
“They said you were here, but I didn’t believe them. I’m sorry, I didn’t believe them,” you begin to repeat your words, and Din notes that you are still aiming the blaster at him. 
He slowly holsters his own, before raising his hands in surrender in front of him. 
“Cyare, it’s me. It’s me. It’s Din.” 
He repeats, hoping that the words will register and that you will lower the blaster. 
Upon hearing his name, you do just that, and the blaster clatters to the ground before you fall into his raised arms. He is caught off-guard, but moves quickly to catch you before you meet the ground. 
You are crying now, soft whimpers as you clutch onto the chestplate of his beskar. 
He wraps you up into his chest, pulling you to him as he holds you. 
The alarms are blaring, and the lights are starting to flash, but he ignores all of it. 
When he hears the distant tone of talk through a stormtrooper helmet, he does not hesitate to scoop you into his arms. When you don’t protest, he looks down to see that you are either sleeping or have passed out, and he hopes that it’s the former. 
Despite the fact that he had to fight his way in, he manages to remember a way out, and by some miracle he doesn’t run into any trouble, except a mouse droid he has to shoo off. 
Once he emerges into daylight again, he begins running and he feels his body physically sigh in relief when he sees the Crest sitting just before him.
---
After jumping onto the Crest and immediately taking-off, Din quickly discovered that you had indeed passed out. He had let you be for the few moments it took him to launch the Razor Crest, but as soon as he was able to click on the auto-pilot he was back at your side, moving you to rest on the cot the both of you share. 
He sits beside you on said cot now, his hands moving to cup your face and turn it towards him. 
“Cyar’ika. Please wake up,” he begs, and oh, how he begs. 
He begins to make promises to the Maker, to the stars, hell, he thinks he even makes a promise to the force at one point. 
Din knows you require medical attention, but he wants you awake so that you can explain to him what has happened to you, even if he is unsure that he will be able to listen to you describe what you have endured. 
His hands move to your shoulders, and with a firm, but gentle, shake you gasp back into consciousness. 
You grab at his arms and he helps you sit up before realizing that you think he is one of them. 
“Cyare, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s me, it’s Din.” He whispers, and you look at him with wild, wide eyes. 
He can tell you are trying to figure out if you should trust him, but when you catch a glimpse of the signet on his right shoulder pauldron relief instantly floods your eyes and you look down at the similar symbol on your skin. 
His right hand finds it, his glove-clad fingers coming to rest against the mudhorn there on your wrist. 
You look back up at him then, and you can feel the emotion and exhaustion rolling off of him. 
“I need to get you cleaned up,” he deadpans, but his words are soft and laced with care. 
You nod and allow him to lead you into the cockpit of the Crest. 
He softly guides you into the pilot’s seat before he disappears for a minute to retrieve supplies, but you barely notice his missing presence. 
Your eyes have found the stars, and you drink them in as if they are cold Bantha milk. 
It had been days since you had seen them, and you missed how many there were, how easy it was to stare at them and have them calm every thought in your mind. 
When Din returns, he stands for a moment to watch you look at the stars in wonder. 
Their light shines into the Crest, illuminating the cockpit and painting a stark silver onto your features. He notices then just how bad your bruised eye is swelling, and how the bright light from the stars seems to deepen every cut he finds on your skin. 
Din can’t help but to let out a shaky sigh at the thought of what you’ve been through, and at the thought of what would have happened had he not gotten there when he did. 
Hearing his breath escape through the modulator cues you to snap your attention in his direction, and he wonders how long it will be before his presence no longer incites fear. 
“Cyar’ika, it’s me. It’s your Din. I’m not going to hurt you.” 
Your eyes stay wide and wary, but a small smile works its way onto your lips before it falls again. The cut on them has begun to bleed at the motion, and Din slowly makes his way to you to tend to it. 
He squats down in front of you, and you sit rigidly still. 
He lifts a wet cloth in front of you, and watches as you look between it and him. 
“I need to clean that up, okay? Is it okay if I do that for you?” 
You slowly nod, and his left hand moves to cup your cheek and keep your head still as his right gently swipes at the blood sitting on your lip. When he is satisfied that he has stopped the blood flow, he exchanges the cloth for another. 
“Now, cyare, I need to clean up the cuts and bruises here okay?” 
At the word “here,” he taps his left thumb softly against your cheek as his hand still cups your face. 
You nod and he removes his hand to brush the hair out of your eyes and away from your face. 
You whimper at the loss of contact, and the sound and action is so unlike you that it catches Din off-guard. 
“Haar’chak, what did they do to you?” 
He whispers, and he takes note of the tears that begin to sit along your waterline in response. 
“I wouldn’t tell them,” you start, and your voice cracks at the use of it. 
Din is quick to hand you a glass of water, and you take it from him, greedily gulping it down. He wonders then if you have been fed or given water at all since your capture. 
“I wouldn’t tell them where you were, or where he was. That got me time with some angry troopers. I think they may have broken a rib or two. One of them could land a pretty solid right-hook, for an Imp.” 
You try to laugh off your words, to pass over them as if they are nothing, but the sound won't come. A sad smile rests on your lips as Din continues his ministrations. His touch is soft as he does his best to clean the cuts on your face.
“Then I wouldn’t tell them your name, or the name of the child, and that afforded me a visit from an angry officer. He asked for the cameras to be turned off, and then proceeded to beat me so bad that I couldn’t stay conscious for most of it.” 
Din can feel his hands beginning to tremble as he continues to clean you up. They shake in both anger and sadness, and he is glad that it is time to apply the bacta patches. This gives him a moment to gain control over his nerves.
“I need to apply bacta now, okay?” He asks, and you nod. 
When the medicine hits your open wounds, a sharp hiss escapes through your gritted teeth, and Din’s heart constricts at the sound.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and you shake your head before talking again, trying to mask the pain of the healing agent against your open cuts. 
“When I didn’t tell them if he was special, or gifted, or whatever they want to call him, they sent in the firing squad. That was when they told me you were there to rescue me. I didn’t fully believe them, but I knew if you were there that it would be my best chance to escape.” 
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you, cyare.”
You place your hand on his arm that rests in your lap, and he glances down at it.
“I never gave up that you would come for me, Din.”
He nods and returns to his work, his heart beating so fast he is sure that you can hear it hitting the beskar that sits on his chest.
As you sit in silence now, Din softly rubs at the cuts on your skin, his mind growing increasingly angry the more he thinks about what you endured, but his heart reaches out to you, aches for you. 
He was in pain too, upset that your capture had been because of him. That they had tortured you to get to him, to learn about the little one. 
As if you can read his mind, you ask him about Grogu.
“Where is he, Din? Please, please tell me he is okay,” you whisper, and it is the first time Din has been able to fully meet your eyes. 
“He is safe, cyare. I left him with Cara on Nevarro. We’re going to get him now.” 
You nod, satisfied with his response. Din hands you a cold compress and instructs you to press it onto your swollen eye. 
“I got this when I wouldn’t explain my relationship to you, or why I wear our clan symbol.” You mumble, and Din’s eyes flit to the mudhorn on your wrist once more. 
He thinks then about his clan of three, small and a little broken, but strong, and his all the same. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, and you stare at him before he says it again, louder this time. 
“I’m sorry I turned my back for too long during that fight. I’m sorry I didn’t come for you sooner. I’m sorry that I’ve dragged you into this mess, this is no life for you, or the child.” 
He rushes out, and you are shaking your head in disagreement so hard that it has started to ache. 
“Do not sit there and apologize to me, Din Djarin. I know what I signed up for, and I willingly signed up for it. I would give my life to protect that child, and I would do the same for you. Have I not proven that? Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.” 
Din’s helmet jumps up at the quick movement he makes upon hearing those words escape your lips. 
His eyes search yours through the visor, and he finds nothing but sincerity staring back at him. 
“I’ll kill them for what they did to you, cyar’ika.” He states, and you smile at him. 
“I would set the world on fire to keep you warm.”
Here’s the next prompt for Dincember:
DINCEMBER - December 9 - “Let It Snow”
301 notes · View notes
kaitycole · 3 years
Text
Love Two: the hard love
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Summary: Miya Atsumu is an adventure and a half which is exciting for you after a mundane high school relationship. But what price has to be paid in order for you to be in his world?
Parings: Atsumu x Reader
Word Count: 7187 (my apologies)
Warnings: Angst. Toxic relationship tropes. Toxic behaviors. Slight physical violence (towards the end - it’s a wrist grab and a slap). Adult language.
Rating: 16+
A/N: This series is based on an article that talks about how in live, most of us experience three types of love. I’ll link the article in the series master post for anyone who wants to read it!
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Golden yellow hair.
Chocolate brown eyes.
Burnt cinnamon cologne.
These images burn into your mind as tears sting your dry eyes. You swallow hard, trying to get the lump in your throat to dislodge but it only reminds you of how dry your throat is, how sore it is from screaming. Your head lays heavy on your pillow, a dull ache wraps around your head and you aren’t sure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying you’ve done over the last three days.
You two had a fight, another fight, the same old fight. You screamed, he brushed it off, leaving in a rush and slamming the door while you slid down the doorframe, sobbing. You thought that you’d be used to this, the constant up and downs that came with loving Miya Atsumu, the rollercoaster of emotions that came with the cycle of being together, breaking up and then getting back together. You’d been doing it for three years now, on and off again, but never being off for long before he dragged you back into his arms, not that you ever refused.
Your head hangs to the side as you slowly push yourself off the floor, your body too tired after fighting to climb into your bed the night before. For a moment you consider crawling down the hall before your pride takes over as you stand up, legs stiff but wobbly at the same time as your feet drag you to the couch in the living room. You aren’t sure what time it is, your eyes slowly adjusting to the large amount of sunlight coming into the apartment, the apartment he surprised you with and you had loved, now it felt like a prison.
Your phone starts buzzing and when you look, there’s several notifications from your two best friends Kaneko Yua and Higashi Naoki. You shuffle to the kitchen, grabbing a cup as you perch your phone between your shoulder and cheek, filling you cup with tap water.
“Y/N! Where are you?” Yua’s voice is too loud for the linger ache in your head, you jerk the phone from your ear to turn the volume down.
You chug down the ice-cold water that does nothing to remove the dryness from your mouth or throat, it’s as if it’s been coated in a thick layer of cotton. “Apartment.”
She’s silent for a minute, you can hear her mumbling to someone next to her. There’s a muffled sound coming from her end before a new voice comes through the line, fresh tears prick your eyes when you recognize it’s Naoki.
“We’re coming over, don’t leave.”
*                      * Three years ago
Your high school days had been filled with volleyball matches, practices, tournaments and while you have no ill feelings towards the sport or the boy who brought it into your life, you just hoped university would broaden your horizons.
Yet here you stood at a MSBY Fan Greet, your younger brother all but vibrating with excitement as he waited to get his overprice photograph signed by his favorite team. You previously made plans to hang-out with Yua over the spring break, but since your parents both couldn’t take him, your brother guilted you with the  “but I miss hanging out with you” card and puppy dog eyes.
“For you.” His accent coats his words, passing you small folded piece of paper before your brother makes his way down the line to the next player for an autograph, tugging at your pants for you to follow his lead.
** “Wanna get something from the vending machine before the next class?” Yua asks. Kaneko Yua became your friend when you both started university last year, the two of you quickly became the best of friends even though the only interests you share is in your shared Art History major.
“I’m done for the day.” You tilt your head, smiling right before you stick your tongue out at her.
She throws her head back, groaning as you continue to walk, “how’d you get such a good schedule.”
“Told you to take those early morning classes.” You wink before running into her as she suddenly stops. “Yua-ch—”
Golden yellow hair and a cocky smile catch your attention as he leans against a flash sports car in the library parking lot. Yua looks at you, her eyes wide, you had mentioned that you got his number a few weeks ago to her, but that nothing but short conversation came from the exchange which only lasted a few days.
“Y/N!” He calls out to you, obnoxiously waving one arm up in the air to catch your attention, it does, along with the rest of the student body that’s outside.
He starts walking over to you and Yua, pulling off his sunglasses you see that dark chocolate eyes that captured your (e/c) ones just weeks ago. Your heart is thumping against your chest as he quickly closes that gap that has been between you, a short arm’s distance away from him. You can smell his cologne, it’s a strong smell, something similar to burnt cinnamon being carried by the wind the circles around you.
Yua looks at you for answers but you couldn’t give her any if you even tried. You find yourself swallowed whole by his dark eyes, feeling like you’re about to sink. “M-Miya-san?”
“Atsumu.” He smirks, “sorry for just showing up. I was in the neighborhood and thought we could go get something to eat. You aren’t busy, are you?”
“No, she’s not.” Yua nudges your arm, bringing you back to reality, “she’s actually all finished for the day.”
“What do you say? Will you come with me?” He reaches out his hand and you almost immediately take it and maybe you should’ve been more cautious, after all this wasn’t like it was in high school.
** The first few months with Atsumu are blissful, perfect and you start to wonder if this is what you were missing back with Ushijima. Every day with Atsumu is an adventure, you never know what to expect which is a sharp contrast to that same day everyday feeling you had back in high school. He keeps you on your toes and you love it, you eat it up, spending all your free time with him and it shows when you get back a test with a failing mark.
“Budding romances aren’t the most important thing in life, Y/N.” Your professor speaks low when he places the paper on the desk, he doesn’t have to tell you how he feels about it, disappointment drips from his words.
Atsumu didn’t offer much help on the subject either, simply shrugging at it and telling you that there’s always the next test. “Let’s go out.” “I really should study, ‘Tsumu.” You tilt your head back to look up at him, he’s sitting on the couch behind you.
He says your name, dragging out each syllable, “it’s the last night I can. I have an away game that I leave for on Friday.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” “Must have forgot.” He looks down at his phone, “coming or not?”
You know that you shouldn’t have gone, that studying is more important, but him leaving meant that you’d be apart for the first time and he had that lopsided pout on his face, so you agree. Grabbing your jacket and following him out the door as he drapes an arm around you, “I can always count on you.”
*                      * Two years and four months ago
“I’m gonna kill him!” Yua shouts as she walks into your dorm room. She practically ran from her part-time job in the library to your dorm when you called her, unable to talk from crying so loudly. While she took the elevator up to your room, she managed to see the text explaining the cause of your distress and is fuming.
“You’ll…go…to jail.” You finally manage to spit out, the sobs and hiccups breaking up your words as you wipe your running nose on your sweatshirt sleeve. Usually Yua would scold you, telling you just how disgusting that it, but tonight she just sits next to you, letting you lean on her shoulder.
She gently rubs your arm as she wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to her side, “maybe I’ll key that fancy car of his.”
“I think it’s his brother’s.”
“Deflate his balls!”
“Yua!”
“Volleyballs, get your head out of the gutter.” She smiles when you let out a small laugh. She leans her head down on yours and you are thankful that you’re close enough for the silence to be comfortable, for certain things to be left unsaid.
*                      * Two years and two months ago
The next few weeks seem to drag by, each day seemingly longer than the last. Yua has all but moved into your dorm, refusing to leave your side for more than the duration of classes. With her there, you realize even more that your phone hasn’t gone off, there’s no surge of messages coming through from a certain setter. Things take a bit of a turn when you hear a nearby conversation, two girls gushing about some famous model getting into a relationship to a volleyball player.
But it’s that said volleyball player’s name that anchors your feet to the ground, that name that echoes in your ears while your lungs struggle to take in the air you want to force into them.
Miya Atsumu
Yua essentially banned the use of his name or anything related to him into your life and for better or worse you’ve both manage to uphold it, especially seeing how with his newest brand deal, his face is everywhere just like Michael Jordan’s was in the U.S. during the 90’s. Somehow, you manage to avoid it, until now when your body seems to act on its own and you’re sudden reading several headlines confirming the match.
*                      * Two years ago
“Are you sure you’ll be okay alone?” Yua looks at you, worry etched on her expression, “I don’t have to go to this guest speaking event.”
“Yua, you’ve been talking about this for weeks, you’re going.”
“Promise to call if you need me to come back? I’m only going to Tokyo, so I can get back within three hours.”
“Yes, yes, I promise.” You make a “shoo” gesture with your hand, walking towards her as she picks up her back to leave. You pull her into a quick hug, reassuring her that everything will be fine for one weekend.
** You let out a dramatic sigh, towel drying your hair as you walk out of the bathroom and towards your bed.
8PM on a Friday and I’m getting ready for bed, lame.
You’re slipping on a pair of fuzzy socks when the music you’ve been playing gets interrupted by a phone call. Within much thought, assuming it’s Yua, you answer, only to stop in your tracks when a familiar and husky voice calls your name.
“Y/N!” Each syllable of your name is drawn out with a slight lag, a telltale sign that he’s intoxicated.
If Yua was there, she would tell you to just hang up and block the number, that you had been doing better lately and should just let someone else deal with it, but Yua isn’t there and you feel that it must mean something if you had been the one he called.  Drunken words are sober thoughts, right?
His drunken voice and repeated plea of your name is enough to melt you, enough to make you throw all rational thought out the window, quickly throwing on a hoodie, rushing to the address he barely slurred out.
Fortunately, the restaurant he is at isn’t too far from your dorm, however it is embarrassing when you walk in and could hear him across the room, shouting for you.
“Atsumu.”
He quickly turns to you, that sloppy grin of his piercing you in the heart as he stumbles over to throw his arms around you. The scent of alcohol hits you before he does, leaving you to wonder just how much he’s had as you stagger backwards a bit before steadying the both of you. You just barely get the both of you to a cab, his constant swaying challenging you until you’re able to shove him in the vehicle, hesitating when asked where they were taking you. You didn’t know where he was staying these days, you still weren’t sure what he was doing in Kyoko, so you settle for the only address you know to go.
** “Are you serious?” Yua shouts, all but pulling out her hair.
Three weeks. That’s how long Atsumu had been back in your life and how long your best friend had been in the dark about it. You wanted to tell her about the night Atsumu called drunk, but felt it was best to do it in person since it was such a touchy subject, but when she got back, she was still so excited about the speaker and to tell you about it, you lost your nerve.
Then as the days continued to go by, you kept coming up with a reason not to tell her. What you weren’t expecting was her for to just show up out of the blue or for a fresh out of the shower Atsumu to answer the door. You felt confrontation coming and that was something you weren’t a huge fan of.
“I know it looks bad, but I can explain.”
Yua shakes her head, her lips in a straight line, foot tapping on the tile flooring. “This is why you’ve been cutting classes and missing assignments.”
“I don’t see how this is your business at all.” Atsumu glances over at Yua, an amused smirk on his lips, “jealousy doesn’t suit you, sweetheart.”
Yua turns abruptly on her heel, storming out of the dorm room and when you grab her arm, there’s tears in her eyes when she turns to face you.
“He’s changed, Yua.” There’s such a hopeful look on your face, an expression that screams that you actually believe him.
She drags her arm across her eyes, wiping away the tears, “why can’t you see he’s not good for you!”
*                      * 1 year and 10 months ago
The shuffling of your peers is lost on you, motionlessly staying in your seat as all of those around you practically bolt out after the 55 minutes long public speaking class. Your eyes are trained on the board in front of you but the notebook on your desk is unopened, your pen still capped.
It takes a few moments for you to notice the weight of the hand on your shoulder and the back and forth motion it's pushing you in. Shaking your head, you snap out of whatever daze you’ve been in and look over to see Naoki with a concerned expression on his face.
“Do you need to see the nurse?”
You shake your head, “oh, no. I was just thinking.”
He raises an eyebrow at the quick smile you throw his way before he sighs, giving into your excuse, even after only knowing each other a few months, Naoki knew when to just let things go.
“Good morn—You aren’t Yua.” You stopped your greeting when you noticed the shuffling at the chair next to you wasn’t Yua but someone you’d never seen before.
“Oh no, sorry. I’m Higashi Naoki, I just transferred here.” He gave you a big bright smile, extending his hand out.
“Uh, oh, hello.” You felt embarrassment creep up the back of your neck as you awkwardly shook his hand. Luckily your phone vibrated, allowing you to focus your attention to something else other than the rather attractive brunette sitting next to you.
You read the words on the screen, somewhat understood the meaning of them but your mind kept going back to the warm orange brown eyes that looked at you with such kindness. They reminded you of the way you felt back in high school, the way that Ushijima made sure you always felt: safe.
To your surprise, Yua had already met Naoki, they shared the glass before this one and Yua was actually excited that you two had ended up meeting. After that, the three of you were fast friends, almost as if you had all been friends for years rather than just several weeks. But not everyone was excited for your new friendship and he had no problem being very vocal about it.
Atsumu wasn’t keen on the friendship when he randomly showed up to the campus one day, seeing the two of you sitting outside, laughing. You had to run after him, he took off without letting you even introduce Naoki, trying to tell him that he was just a friend, but Atsumu seemed to already have his mind made up on what was what.
A week later, after not hearing from Atsumu you got a message from him telling you that he needed to dedicate himself more to his team, his career and being in a relationship with you just wasn’t it.
“You can copy my notes during lunch, Y/N.”
“Thanks, Nao-chan!” You smile up at him while shoving your things into your backpack. He clears his throat, blush spreading across his cheeks as he turns away from you.
** Professor A: Missing Assignments
Professor B: Make-up Test Notice
Professor C: Mandatory Advisor Meeting
XMail: Unread Messages (12)
You feel a pit in your stomach, not wanting to read the emails, already knowing the disappointed messages they held. You hadn’t been your best self lately especially when it came to your studies and had several unfinished assignments and 0’s in the gradebook. It wasn’t like this was the first time you and Atsumu had been broken up but for some reason, each time felt worse than the previous time.
Leaning back, you let out a deep sigh as you glance around at the boxes that liter the room. After you and Atsumu broke up the most recent time, Yua managed to convince you to move into her off-campus apartment. At first you didn’t like the idea, not wanting to be a burden to her or cause anyone to think anything of her with you living with her, but she wouldn’t heard anything but yes. She told you that she had the space (her parents insisted on getting her a two bedroom even though it was just her) and it was easier for her to keep an eye on you.
There are still some things that are in boxes, mostly things from Atsumu that you didn’t want to toss out, but didn’t think should be on display either. Plus, with all the catching up you had to do, there wasn’t much time for anything else especially with the schedule that Yua had made for you. The two of you shared most classes, so she had all the notes and study guides you needed and to be honest, it helped keep your mind off a certain MSBY setter.
BZZT!
Nao-chan: I’m heading up, let me in! (1:42PM)
A smile spreads across your face, pushing yourself from the desk and quickly slipping out of your room and towards the door. By the time you open it, you see him walking up the hallway and he flashes you his signature smile when his eyes meet yours.
“Nao-chan!” You crash into him, wrapping him into a hug, one that he returns effortlessly.
“What have I done to get such a warm welcome?”
“I can’t just miss you?” You tilt your head when you look up at him, stepping away from him to look him in the eye. You hold back a laugh when you see his face turn red, turning his face away from you before mumbling something along the lines of “yeah, no, that’s fine.”
You bring back two cups of juice (Yua refused to let soda into the apartment) and notice that Naoki seems to be nervous, wringing his hands together and looking down at the ground which is different that he usually acts.
“Nao-chan, what’s wrong?”
“Oh, uhm, well I wanted to ask you something.” He makes eye contact with you and you nod for him to continue, “I bought these and thought we could go together.”
He pulls something out of the inside pocket of his jacket, passing it to you and for a second your blood runs cold, eyes scanning over the item picking up the word ‘volleyball’. By the warmth suddenly on your arm, you could tell that Naoki sensed your discomfort.
“Forget it, it was a dumb idea.”
“No! It’s not, it’s just…uhm…”
“I just thought that it might be a good way to get out of the apartment and it’s an Adlers’ game so maybe you’d seen your friend.”
You scrunch your brows together before looking back at the tickets. It was for a game between the Schweiden Adlers and Tachibana Red Falcons, a smile spread across your face, a mix of excitement to see Ushijima play again (his play style is still one of your favorites) but also that Naoki remembered these little facts about you.
“I’d love to go. I’ll call Ushijima and tell him we’ll be there!” You give him a quick hug, rushing to your room to get your phone, leaving a smiling Naoki behind.
** Naoki smiles watching you all but vibrate as you wait in line to go into the gym. The game had been all you talked about for the last two weeks, eager to get out of the apartment for anything other than classes or your on-campus job. You spent most of your free time telling Naoki just how amazing Ushijima is on the court and how he had already asked to meet Naoki, who seemed a bit nervous when you mentioned that.
“I didn’t know you liked watching volleyball, Nao-chan. Did you play in school?”
“Oh, uh no. The person I’m interested in likes it, so I thought I’d learn more about it.” He hands over the tickets, the two of you being ushered into to the building. His shoulder brushes yours due to the large amount of people all in the crowed hallway.
“I didn’t know you had your eye on someone! I’ll teach you all I know about volleyball so you can impress them!” You beam a huge smile at Naoki before your attention is pulled to the other side of the hallway. “Nao-chan! Let’s get t-shirts!”
He follows you as you drag him towards a table set up with shirts to memorialize the game. You intended to get matching ones, but due to size differences, you had a settle with a white shirt for you and a black on for Naoki. After you reluctantly let him pay, the two of you make your way to the gym, Ushijima had seats held for the two of you.
Once the whistle blew, you were back in your element, a huge smile on your face watching Ushijima command the court just like he had been for as long as you could remember. For the first time in years, you feel light and free, happier than you can remember being. Ushijima catches your eye at some point during the second set and you eagerly wave to him, giving him that same toothy grin you did as kids.
** “Toshi!” You barely give him time to turn around, running straight into him as you throw your arms around him, both Toshi and Naoki chuckle at the fact you managed to knock Toshi off balance for a few seconds.
“Y/N.” He pulls you into his broad chest and if you hadn’t known him for years, you wouldn’t believe that this tall and muscular man was the same boy who ran around with a watering can that was almost as big as him. “I’m glad you came today, it’s been a while.”
“Since high school.” You bite your lower lip and notice that Toshi squeezes your arm, a gesture he’d do to comfort you. He gives you a reassuring wink, letting you know that there’s no hard feelings about the past before he looks over at Naoki, “are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend?”
“Oh no! No, no, no.” You stumble over your words, frantically waving your hands around.
“I’m Higashi Naoki, nice to meet you.”
“Nao-chan is just a friend.”
Linking your arm with his, you look back at him and see his smile drop for a split second before it reappears while shaking hands with Ushijima but that quickly leaves your mind when you see a familiar poof of orange hair. But before you can take the time to figure out who he is, you hear an accent that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget.
“Just friends, huh?”
Your eyes widen in horror, immediately turning and seeing the familiar sight of golden yellow hair walking away from you.
“Y/N—” Naoki reaches out to grab your arm, but you’ve already started running after Atsumu, calling out his name as you rushed to catch up to him, weaving through the crowded hallways.
“Tsumu!” You finally grab ahold of his wrist, trying to pull him back but instead he just yanks you forward as he tries to get his arm away from you.
“Don’t call me that.” His tone is icy with an expression that matches, “why are you even here?”
“I came to see Tos—Ushijima.”
“I mean why are you here talking to me, you are clearly on a date with what’s his face.”
“Nao-chan? We’re just friends, it was just to get out of the apartment and have fun.” Your voice is trembling, bottom lip quivering listening to the harsh tone of his voice.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you were all over him, just stop lying.”
“No! I wasn’t.” The tears you’ve been trying to hold back now slip down your cheeks, you couldn’t figure out why he was acting like this especially when you were broken up.
“I never thought you’d end up like all those other girls, just another pig wanting to date me for status.”
Your heart is pounding loudly in your ears that you don’t hear whatever else he mumbled before turning and walking away, your arm weakly reaches out to him before your knees hit the vinyl flooring. After several moments pass, you feel someone pull you up and wrap their arms around you, the familiar scent of men’s body wash washes over you.
“Thank you.” You choke out, the comforting embrace causing more tears to fall.
“Best friends forever, right?”
*                      * 1 year and 3 months ago
“Are people looking at me?”
“Huh?” Yua raises an eyebrow as she looks over at you.
“There’s a psychology term for that feeling, it’s called spotlight effect.” Naoki says, trying to reassure you that no one’s looking.
“No, I think she’s right.” Yua stretches an arm out in front of him, causing him to stop walking before you drop your backpack on the ground, shocked.
Atsumu is standing on campus, wearing a suit, carrying a stupidly large bouquet of flowers, going around asking where you are, all but shouting your name to the sky. Part of you wants to disappear, of course he’d choose to stand in the middle of campus, catching everyone’s attention.
You trip slightly over your bag, marching towards him, barely hearing Naoki calling after you before Atsumu’s attention snaps to you, his eyes locking in on yours.
“Y/N!” Gleefully, he scurries towards you, handing the bouquet to you, it’s heavier than you thought it’d be.
“Atsumu, what are you doing?”
“I want, no, I need to talk to you.” He drops down to his knees and you can hear the increase of hushed tones, you glance back to see a very confused Yua and Naoki wears a horrified expression. “I’d like to try again, please.”
“Atsumu…”
“I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”
“Okay, okay, just…please get up. People are staring.” You try to hide your face behind the flowers, the pure embarrassment causing your face to burn.
He pushes himself off the ground, grabbing your hand as he pulls you towards the faculty parking lot. It doesn’t feel like you are in your own body, your legs moving to keep up with him before he stops.
Once again, he drops down to his knees, grabbing your hands with his, pleading with you to listen to him, to believe that he really means it when he tells you that he’s changed, asking you for just one more shot. For most of his speech, you look at the top of his head, seeing that the golden yellow is being overtaken by his natural dark brown roots, your fingers twitch, wanting to run through his hair. It’s when you finally lock eyes with him that you see the tears that line them, a single one slipping down his cheek from the corner of his right eye.
“I shouldn’t have come.” He wipes his eyes, sniffling a bit. He squeezes your hands before he stands up, letting you go. “I’m sorry for doing this you.”
There’s no way to explain it, but he seems different and suddenly you want to see this new him, to be the one that gets to be part of this new and mature Atsumu. Throwing all your sense out the window, pushing the rational and logical voices of Yua and Naoki to the back of your head, you wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his back and you can feel his heart pounding in his chest.
“Don’t go.”
*                      * 9 months ago
“Y/N! Door!”
Still in the process of buttoning your shirt, you poke your head out of your room, “I’m almost done, can you get it, please?”
Yua and Naoki share a look, when you had told them you decided to get back with Atsumu they weren’t shy about telling you how they were against it, that as your friend they hated seeing you so hurt, but they also told you that they weren’t just going to leave you either. It had been an unspoken rule that when it came to all things Atsumu (including opening the door) that they didn’t want to be part of it, for you to keep that part of your life away, unless he did something to hurt you.
Naoki reluctantly gets up, you can tell by the way he sluggishly walks his way towards the door. Dipping back into your room, you finish getting ready, grabbing your phone and sweater before pulling the door shut behind you.
You hear the door slam shut and look to see an irritated Naoki, “where’s Tsumu?” Naoki goes to speak, but you don’t give him a chance, instead just rush out of the apartment.
“Tsumu! Tsumu!” You shout out to him, barely catching his attention as he presses the button for the elevator. “Where are you going?”
He clenches his fist; the gesture catches your eye. “Home. I didn’t sign up to be humiliated tonight.” He looks at you, a type of rage in his eyes that you’ve never seen before and you aren’t sure what could’ve happened to make him so upset. Since he showed up on campus, begging for another chance eh always made sure to be open about his feelings.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You have to tell me, Tsumu.”
“I just don’t like him being in your apartment.”
The elevator dings, doors opening and just as he goes to step into it, you pull back on his arm, pleading with him to stay, tears filling your eyes. He jerks his arm from your grip, not that you were holding on that tightly, and he steps into the elevator.
You aren’t sure why your relationship is like this, why it has so many ups and downs, why it hurts this much. You aren’t sure why being with Atsumu is so hard, why it feels like all you see is his back while he walks away from you, leaving you broken each time. In high school, you hated the almost boring way each day with Ushijima felt, but in this moment, you’d give anything for that because at least back then you felt safe and knew where you stood.
*                      * 5 months ago
For the last four months, Atsumu spoiled you rotten with daily gifts and elaborate dates. You received a flower a day, it was the flower of your birth month, boxes of your favorite candies, along with cards that had some romantic quote in them.
For dates, he takes you to the best restaurants, buys out move theatres, flies you to various parts of Japan to not only watch his games, but to show you around. When you’re together, he actually listens to you, takes his time to finally get to ask you about your upbringing, family, and where you see yourself in five years. He shows you how he’s remembered things you don’t like and even the things that you do and for the first time in the two plus years you’ve known him, it feels like things are starting to even out, that all the turmoil might just be over.
** “Do you like it?” His accent drips from his words, you’ve noticed the accent gets thicker when he’s either nervous or excited.
You glance around the empty apartment, a bit confused as why you’re standing in the middle of it. You thought that Yua apartment was big, considering it had two bedrooms, but this seems to be even bigger than hers. The large windows allow an abundance of natural light and you really do like that.
“It’s a really nice apartment.” You smile as he walks over to you, pulling you into his toned chest, his chin on your forehead.
“I’m glad, it’s yours.”
You pull back, shock written all over your expression, too many thoughts racing through your mind for you to form a sentence. Atsumu did a lot of crazy things, did a lot of spur of the moment things, but this, this really did top them all. “What?”
He shrugs, digging in his pocket before placing a key in your hand, he looks a bit scared to you. “It’s just…my lease was up and I know it’s a bit further from campus than Yua’s, but I was thinking you’d like to live here…with me.”
Without any hesitation, you throw your arms around Atsumu, repeatedly saying “yes” as you awkwardly bounced up and down. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands, bringing you closer for a kiss.
You can’t stop smiling, eagerly nodding your head as Atsumu talks about furniture and getting your things boxed to be moved, not really hearing anything because all you can think of is that things are finally going to work out between the two of you and that’s why your heart is thumping against your chest.
*                      * 3 months ago
Two months.
8 weeks.
60.8 days.
That’s how long your relationship of bliss lasted, how long you saw the caring and loving version of Atsumu, the side of him that stole your heart even after months and years of back and forth, ups and down, on and off.
You hate it because things were going so well, everything was perfect, even better than how great things had been with Ushijima back in high school. What you hate even more is the fact that while you had been packing up your things, you said some not so nice things to Yua, telling her that she was wrong about him, that this time things were going to work out. You had all but bragged and even hit below the belt with saying she was just jealous that she didn’t have someone that loved her the way Atsumu loves you.
Nine times out of ten you’re alone in this apartment, your music on the highest volume isn’t loud enough to fill the silence that creeps through the rooms and wraps around you and when the silence gets to you, you’re forced to think about things you’d rather not. Like how right Yua had been, how Naoki was only looking out for you, how every time you got back together with Atsumu, it just seemed to hurt worse than the time before.
During that one time of ten that Atsumu is home, the two of you just fight, you fight about everything really; your classes, his games, your friends, his friends and now that you’re all but isolated from your friends, it just makes things worse. You’ve always hated comparing the two, Ushijima to Atsumu, knowing both relationships are/were different, but recently, you’ve wondered if repeating the same day over and over, if that almost suffocating comfort, you wonder if that would be easier to live with now when looked at next to the way your current relationship has been.
*                      * Atsumu flips his phone face down, muting it after it had begun to ring, turning his attention back to the movie the two of you were watching.
You scoff, pushing yourself off his side to lean against the other side of the sofa.
“Don’t start.”
“Start what? I was just getting more comfortable.”
“Cut the shit. You always do this.”
You roll your eyes, already irritated. “Did you want me to leave the room so you could call her back?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” He pushes himself off the couch, shaking his head as he storms into the kitchen.
You reach across the couch, swiping his phone from the armrest, trying to get into it, but no surprise he’s once against changed the passcode. You’re fuming at this point, shoving yourself off the couch before you start to walk to your room. You were done, have been done with all of this.
His hand tightly wraps around your wrist and jerks you backwards towards him. He starts yelling, demanding that you give him back his phone and the anger in you takes over and you throw it across the room. You start to scream about how you’re done, you’re tired and don’t deserve to feel this miserable. He yells back telling you that he’s giving you things anyone would be thankful to have and you smack him with your free hand.
He freezes, dropping your wrist as he runs his fingers through his hair, the expression on his face is something you’ve never seen and without another word, he storms out of the apartment.
You didn’t see him for three weeks, if it hadn’t been for his teammates Hinata and Bokuto stopping by, you wouldn’t have known that he’s okay and has been staying with them. When he does come back, he has a long-winded apology and a large bouquet of flowers. He falls to his knees in the door way, telling you that he’s sorry, that he can’t believe his actions and that he swears that he’ll do better.
*                      * Present Day
When you open the door, Yua throws her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace and you feel yourself start to sob again. She holds you up as your knees get weak, letting the exhaustion take over you as you inhale her familiar perfume.
Naoki slightly pushes by the two of you, angrily making his way through the apartment, brows scrunched into a scowl. You watch as he flings open every door, stomping through each room before he walks back to you, rage radiating off of him. “Where the fuck is he?”
You’re startled, panicking you look up at Yua who wraps her arm around your neck and pulls you back into her, your face pressing just below the top of her shoulder.
“Obviously not here, so chill out.”
She ushers you over to the couch, Naoki handing you the throw blanket to wrap around yourself as you finally catch your breath. You lean your head on the back of the couch, it just adds pressure to your headache, but you’re having a hard time opening up to your friends.
“How’d you know something was wrong?” You slowly lift your head up, looking between the two of them, your face turning red when you hear that you called Naoki repeatedly around 2AM, leaving incoherent voicemails where they only picked up on the words: fight, Atsumu and leave.
“I really think you should move back in with me.” Yua speaks with caution, knowing how sensitive the topic is.
You just nod, defeatedly. You’re more upset about failing to maintain the relationship than you are that the relationship is over. Part of you wants to know why you put yourself through so much to prove you could stay with him, was it because you didn’t want your previous break-up to mean nothing? That if you could make this one work then you weren’t an awful person for ending things with Ushijima for an almost comical reason?
“Just pack what you have to have and we’ll replace whatever you don’t bring and need, okay?” Naoki gives you a small smile before Yua stands up telling you that she’ll grab your things from the bathroom and Naoki can get the things throughout the living room.
Roughly half an hour later, you have most of the things you brought, minus any gifts that Atsumu gave you, but you can’t seem to step through the threshold. Yua and Naoki are standing in the hallway waiting, but you’re afraid to make the step because all of a sudden it symbolizing a bigger commitment that you intended. Once you step out of the apartment, once you shut the door and drop the key in the box, you’re officially shutting the Miya Atsumu chapter of your life and that shakes you to the core.
“Y/N, you’re going to be okay. We’re right here. I’m right here.” Naoki reaches out his hand and you decide to take that leap, grabbing on to his hand like a lifeline. Your knees are wobbly as you place one foot into the hallway, straddling the threshold. “C’mon, just one more step. I got you.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, frantically taking that last step before throwing your arms around Naoki, repeatedly saying “I did it!” He puts his hand on the back of your head, pressing you into him, telling you that he’s proud of you.
You take one last look into the apartment that for some reason now fills small, it feels different, like you no longer belong there and while you’re still terrified of letting go of the rope that ties you and Atsumu together, there’s something exhilarating about starting over. Your eyes are closed as you pull the door shut and when you turn and open them, you see proud smiles on both Yua and Naoki’s faces and you couldn’t help but be excited for this next chapter.
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