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kiwiraccoon · 4 months

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Never Again

Gang member Mingi x reader

Word Count: 1335

Summary: you and Mingi fight, and when you run away an opposing gang member catches you in the alley way on your way out and tries to force drugs down your throat. Mingi, on his way to get you back, sees and loses his shit but calms only once you say his name.

Notes: MDNI, cursing, angst, fluff, drugs forced, attempted kidnapping, gang violence, gang related topics

“That’s it!” He yells throwing his phone down to the couch beside him trying to release some anger without breaking anything. A habit I helped him break.

“Oh that’s it? Alright fine.” In the heat of the moment I gather just my phone jacket and keys and start to walk out the door hoping he might say anything to stop me.

“Fine.” He says with the anger shaking his voice. If I were anyone else he would have said more and if this were a drug deal he would have either beat them to a pulp or used that brand new gun I got him and ended it before it got worse.

Instead of saying anything more I leave our apartment, his apartment and head straight for the elevator. In my fit of anger I can’t even comprehend the time. It’s dark out that’s all I know, and being in a relationship with a gang member I should know to never go out alone at night, but my clouded judgement does nothing but push me further out the glass doors.

The empty streets do nothing to clear my mind, and the damp air does little to help my breathing calm. “So fucking stupid!” I curse under my breath kicking a pebble with my heeled foot. “All of this over a damn drug deal that they don’t have enough information on! That’s it! God forbid I fucking care. My bad I didn’t know I shouldn’t fucking worry that the love of my life could die. Oops. Fucking ridiculous.”

My whispers to myself add to the silence of the night around me. That is until I get pulled into an alley way not far from the apartment, “what the fuck!?”

“Shut up!” A gruff voice says from behind me pulling me in close to their chest and holding me so tight my lungs struggle. He slams me against the brick wall and pins me against it. His face is covered by a mask but his eyes I can see. This black that makes my skin crawl.

“Who the fu-“

“Shut the fuck up!” He says again with so much anger that I think he’s the one who just had a break up argument. Instead of covering my mouth he grabs something from his pocket and through my hazy vision I can just make out that it’s small and held between his fingers. He raises it to my mouth and tries to shove it in but I do that best I can and bite his fingers hard.

He curses and drops the pill to look at his fingers to see blood. “You bitch.” I go to say something but in a second he is thrown off of me and air is brought back into my lungs. My vision is so blurry from tears and anxiety that I can’t see what is going on and I’m so afraid that my hearing has gone silent.

I slide down the wall and just let sob wreck through my body. I let out all my anger and fear and say the one name I wish could save me now “Mingi.” I continue sobbing into my hands whispering his name and saying my apologies for walking away.

Someone tries to pull my hands away and I freak out thinking the man won and came back to drug me again. “Baby I’m here. I’m here. It’s me baby. I’m here for you. Come here.” His strong arms pull me into him and instantly know who it is. He waists no time in picking me up and carrying me away to what I hope is back him.

He continues to whisper sweet nothings to me and hold me close occasionally rubbing my back while his other arm holds me up by my thigh. I cling on to him as if my life depends on it and refuse to open my eyes and face reality.

“We’re home baby.” He whispers and slightly let’s go to see if I will drop from his hold but I hold on tighter. “I’ve got you baby.” He holds on tight again and carries me to what I assume is our bedroom until I hear the sound of the shower. “Come on let’s get these off.”

I finally let him set me down on the counter but I keep my eyes closed shut, I don’t want to open them and find out all of this was just a drug induced dream. As soon as my clothes are off he picks me back up and I feel that he is still fully clothed. Under the water I realize this is reality and open my eyes to see the shower wall and let out a sigh of relief. “I got you baby. I won’t let you go.”

“Your clothes.” I say and notice my voice is weak from all the emotional distress.

“It’s okay. I’m going to set you down okay?”

“Okay.” He sets me down and turns me to face away from him. Mingi washes me hair with care and makes sure to massage my head just the way I like that calms me down. He takes some time to place kisses on my head and shoulders telling me he loves me and that he’s here.

“Mingi?”

“Yes baby?” He asks finishing washing out the conditioner from my hair.

“I’m so sorry.” I say and turn around the hug him tightly around his waist. He doesn’t hug back at first from the shock of my words.

“What?” He pulls me away to look in my eyes and push any stray hairs away from my face. “Baby you have nothing, absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”

“But I-“

“No. I don’t care what you think in that beautiful head of yours, you did nothing to be sorry about. That motherfucker took advantage of you and tried to fucking drug you. And I was so worried about my pride and ego that I was pushing you away and it led to this. If anything I’m sorry, but he should be the most sorry. He should rot in hell. He would be there if you didn’t say my name. I was seeing red.” He pulls me back into him and hugs me tightly. “I’m so sorry baby. Let’s get you dried off and in bed, okay?”

I let my tears fall as I nod and let him pull me out of the shower to wrap a towel around me. He sets me down on the counter again and leaves for a few minutes to change his clothes and grab some for me. He comes back in a large black t-shirt and sweat pants and dresses me in my favorite hoodie of his along with underwear. He brushes my hair just the way I like and wipes my face clean with my products. After he’s down he moves us to the bed and cuddles me close.

“It’s not your fault.” I say into the darkness still clinging on to him and nuzzling into his chest.

“Yes it is. If I did-“

“No Mingi. It’s not anyone’s fault. Couples fight, we fought. But neither of us knew what would happen so it’s not our fault. Please don’t blame yourself. Please.” I beg and sit up to face him. In the darkness I can just make him out and can see that he is looking at my every move.

“Fine but never again. We won’t fight again, we won’t walk away again, and this won’t happen ever again. No one will ever touch my baby ever again. I will protect you with my life at all costs, okay?”

“Me too baby.” I say and stick out my pinky finger, “promise?”

“Pinky promise.” We lock fingers and then he pulls me into a kiss, on that has my using his chest to hold my self up and his hand in my damp hair holding me close.

“I love you Mingi.”

“I love you more than you will ever know.”

#Mingi #Ateez Mingi #Mingi ateez #Ateez #Mingi x reader #Gang member #Song mingi #Song mingi fic #Mingi fic #Mingi imagine #Ateez Song Mingi #ateez fanfic #ateez fic

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desswright29 · 1 year

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Beggin’ & Pleadin

Word Count:2.1k

Pairing: Angry/Toxic Shuri X Drunk/Toxic/Singer reader

A/N: Sooo last night. I was drinking. And when I got home I was scrolling through tik tok and was reintroduced to this song. And this is what we got! I wrote this drunkenly in 2 hrs in between 1 and 3 am soooo. Enjoy?! 🤷🏾‍♀️ lol. I’d also suggest listening to the song. Brandy did her big one!

“I know you’re fucking lying Shuri! You’re fucking that bitch!” Shuri grabs your wrist taught, pulling you into her, throwing her arms around your waist trapping your arms against your body as she pressed you against hers to stop the blows that you were trying to throw. Her mouth angrily bear down on your ear “Y/n this is not the fucking time. You drank too much again. You are reeking of alcohol.” Shuri growls into your ear, looking around the banquet hall as every eye in the building was turned towards the scene. It was taking everything inside of Shuri to conceal her anger.

“I don’t give af! About these muthafuckas! You’re trying to play me like I’m a dummy nigga! I don’t care who you are! You’re not bout to play in my gotdamn face Shuri!” You smash down on her foot with your heel, push out of her arms and start beating at her chest. Immediately she gets you back into her grip, not with out you two getting into a slight scuffle as you yell obscenities at her. Shuri easily gets the upper hand, tossing you over her shoulder and begins heading to the exit with you in tow as the Dora surround you both trying to block the scene unfolding in front of everyone. “Get off me! Get the fuck off of me Shuri! You lying bitch!” You scream beating on her back. Bursting through the front doors with you in tow Shuri finally places you on your feet. The rage in her eyes unmistakable as she grips your arms as hard as she could without breaking them. “WHAT. THE. FUCK. Is wrong with you!!! Who do you think your dating a fucking rapper?! This is not the HipHop Awards y/n this is a political event!”

“Move around with that ‘I’m a Queen Bullshit’! You knew who I was from the begining!! And you know I’m not on no pussy shit! So what made you believe you could sit in my face with one of yo’ hoes Shuri!” Shuri allowed an incredulous snicker to escape her mouth.

“BAST! I’m so sick of this shi-“ Taking a deep breath she calms herself to the best of her ability. “You know what you’re right. I was of aware of your background, but I was also under the impression that you were a grown ass woman capable of controlling your emotions and having adult conversations but you know obviously I was wrong about that!” Shuri threw up her hands in exasperation.

“My Queen, I don’t believe this is the place to have this conversation. The crowds are starting circulate again.” Aneeka interupts. Shuri looks around and people have begun to file out of the building onto the steps to see the drama unfold. She groans from the back of her throat, running a hand down her face. “Come on.” She says reaching for your wrist again you pull back again. “NO! Fuck that! I’m not going no where until you answer me!” Shuri turns away, chuckling in pure pisstivity. Thumb flicking the tip of her nose. “I’m loosing patience Sthandwa. We can talk about this at home. I’ll tell you all you need to know.” Her finale attempt at being rationale with you once again went ignored.

“Tuh! I don’t give a FUCK about you loosing patience Nigga! You gon’ tell me what I need to know now!” Shuri bit the inside of her cheeks, followed by a hard bite to her bottom lip, her limit finally reached. Stepping into your face brows creased and face intense with anger, she snaps. “You want to do this shit now?”

“Yea! Let’s do it!” You challenge.

“Ok we’re doing it!”

“Bet!”

“Bet! Who im fucking will no longer be your concern because I’m done with this childish bullshit!” She spat in your face. Your lips turn up in amusement and disbelief.

“You’re done?”

“Done y/n! So done that you can walk your stupid ass to where ever the fuck you’re going because it’ will not be to my place of residence. I’m tired of this drunken insecure fuck shit you pull every other week! So you can get the fuck out of my face.” Your eyes grew wide with shock knowing you’d went to far this time, but never one to back down from a fight.

“Oh Nigga! You got the right bitch!” You laugh sinisterly. “You can keep this shit!” You take your engagement ring off and throw it at her. “Take that shit and give it to one of them other bitches. It’s niggas dreaming about gettin this pussy. And you just opened the flood gates baby!”

Shuri nods and turns away heading to the car.

“FUCK YOU SHURI!” She gets into the car without another glance in your direction and her and the Queens court pull off, leaving you outside on the steps of the banquet hall. You turn around to see people gawking at you.

“The fuck are y’all lookin’ at!” You hike up your dress and begin walking.

————————————————————————

A week had passed since the incident. Luckily because of the exclusivity of the function you and Shuri were attending your falling out was purely hearsay. Only being spread around by unverified sources. But after sobering up. Regret fell heavy on your chest. You’d been trying to reach Shuri for days with no luck. You were layed up in a hotel and though it was nice, it wasn’t home. So now you were headed back to were you belonged. You made your way up to the doors of the palace only for the Dora to block you from entering.

“We’ve been informed by the Queen not to allow you entry into the palace.” Your neck snapped back as you stared them down.

“She can go somewhere with that shit. My stuff is in there.”

“The Queen, says once you have a secure address she will be glad to send you your things.” You laugh out loud. “Get the fuck out of here! Call her and let her know I’m here for my shit! Since she want me gone so bad. GIVE ME MY SHIT Shuri!” The sound of the Dora’s staffs banging against the ground pounded in your chest. “Ms. Y/l/n, we will ask you one more time to remove yourself from the premises or you will be removed.” You scoff.

“I can’t believe this shit. It’s cool, y’all ain’t gotta do all that. I’ll leave.” You turn and walk away embarrassed and feeling bottom of the barrel.

——————-

Rumor had it that Shuri was wilding. Out in the clubs with women flocking to her side. Willing and waiting to get a piece of the Queen. Tonight it was said she had one of the hottest clubs in Wakanda shut down for a party and you were determined to be present. Putting on your sexiest dress a gold metallic low back dress that hung off of your glistening body like a cloth. Leaving nothing to the imagination.

Surprisingly, getting into the club was easy. The only requirement being to be the baddest of the bad. Once inside you walked over to the bar and ordered a rum and coke and began scanning the crowd looking for her. When suddenly there is commotion at the door. The women flocked to Shuri like moths to a flame as her sexy stride led her to a conversation pit like V.I.P section in the center of the club. You watched as women threw themselves at her as you angrily threw back drink after drink.

When a woman slinked her way over to Shuri sinking into her lap, your body got hot all over. And when she began grinding up against her and Shuri’s hands gripped her ass keeping her pressed against her crotch you’d had enough. You downed the last of your drink and stumbled off of your stool making your way through the crowd to the VIP section. Once again you were stopped short of getting through to her.

“She’s my fucking fiancé, I can talk to her if I want!” You slurred to the guard blocking off the section. “Hm. Drunk again my dear? If my memory serves me correctly you threw my ring. Told me to “keep that shit” remember? Now I’m holding auditions for your position.” Shuri eyes the woman in her lap as the woman laid her head on Shuri’s shoulder. “I think I may have found a winner.” Shuri licked her lips and sent a sly smirk you way.

“Ok Shuri! What the fuck you want me to say. I’m sorry?! I’m sorry ok! Stop tripping. I want to come home!” Shuri giggled. “Idk. I didn’t like that one. That didn’t feel hmmm apologetic enough for me.” She said tapping her chin with her pointer finger. With that you stormed away stumbling through the crowd. Behind you you could hear laughter from the women in the section.

———————————

A little time passed when suddenly the lights on the stage flashed on and the club went silent. The sound of your heels clicked against the stage floor as you slightly stumbled up to mic stand. Your eyes connected with Shuri’s as her eyes pierced through you from her section. You slowly lift your arm and signal the band with a snap, the guitar sounds.

Damn girl, why you make it so hard?

Stop puttin' your foot on my heart

I know I did my wrong, I know I did my dirt

Didn't know how bad I would hurt

Told you, "Walk out that door, and you can keep your last name"

Now I'm down on my knees, it's a shame

I'm beggin' and pleadin'

Shuri leaned forward elbows to knees one eyebrow raised as she tuned in to your performance.

Forgive me!!!

You take the mic stand in both of your hands.

Squeezing as you close your eyes singing with all of your heart.

I'm beggin' and pleadin'

Forgive me!!!

Told you, "Walk out that door, and you can keep your last name"

Now I'm down on my knees, it's a shame

Good God almighty

Kicking the bottom of the mic stand. You tip it over to the left and catch it in a lunge just in time to start the next verse.

Damn girl, why you make it so hard?

Stop puttin' your foot on my heart

Know I cussed and I screamed, even took your keys

You drag the mic stand around the stage forgetting you could remove the mic. Ridiculously intoxicated.

Got so bad, yeah I stopped wearin' my ring

Told you, "Walk out that door, and you can keep your last name"

Now I'm down on my knees, it's a shame

I'm beggin' and pleadin'

FORGIVE ME!!!

Finally, you snatched the mic from the stand as you continued to sing the chorus bending down on one knee. Looking out into the audience seeing the women still surrounding your fiancé pissed you off. You stood too your feet and began to slowly descend the stairs keeping full eye contact with Shuri.

Wave me back

All them bitches won't love you like I do, wave me back

You wave your arms around at the women in the area. Pushing a few out of the way.

I got a couple niggas that I can call

Wave me back, wave me back

Yeah I'm hopin' and wishin', every night and day

Waaaave me back, Ahhh wave me back

I’m beggin’ and pleadin’

This time when you made your way to Shuri’s section there was no issue getting through to her. She now sat manspread leaned back against the plush couch one arm tossed on the back of the couch while the other lie lazily across her lap. She watched you intently as you made your way to her. Begging through your song.

I'm beggin' and pleadin'

Beggin' and pleadin', hopin' and wishin' for a change

Forgive me!!!

Beggin' and pleadin', hopin' and wishin' for a change

Ooooohooo I'm beggin' and pleadin'

Beggin' and pleadin', hopin' and wishin' for a change

Forgive me!!!

Beggin' and pleadin', hopin' and wishin' for a change

Making it in front of Shuri. You fall to you knees inbetween her legs. Dragging your mic-less hand from her knee all the way up her thigh. Until you could feel the heat of her core.

Told you, "Walk out that door, and you can keep your last name"

Now I'm down on my knees, it's a shame

Good God almighty

Your head fell into her lap as you finished singing and the band continued to play and a backup singer continued with your “Good God almighty’s” Shuri took her hand that was draped across her lap and took your chin between her pointer finger and thumb, lifting your head so that you could look her in the eye. A smirk spread across her face as she places her bottom lip between her teeth. She lightly taps your cheek twice and says..

“Good girl.”

#letitia wright #letitiawright #shuri udaku #spotify #shuri x reader #shuri fanfiction #shuri x you #shuri angst #shuri fic #Spotify

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honeyglz · 2 years

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I know damn well Outlaw!Cowboy!Izuku wouldnt make me feel like shit w/ other ppl. He listens. I know he told me himself. So because he told me heres some cowboy word vommit. Because I felt like shit tonight lmao!!!

He's so nice too. He would never talk down to you, well sometimes but he means well!! He likes to hear you rant, even if its angry incoherent thoughts spewing from your mouth. He doesn't care, he wants to hear you speak, just you <3 Sometimes he since he's not rlly supposed to be around ya, he will find ways.

Man's pulls up in a milk man outfit and you have to patiently ask if he bought the milk or if you have to put him back in his cell. "C'mon darlin its just some milk!! And plus, I know you missed me." He's smiling at you with the stupid lopsided grin as he confidently puffs out his chest in declaring you missed him. Which is true but how tf he know that?- Yk what who cares. "Go put back the milk." "But-!" "No but's Deku." He's literally sulking, eyes to the floor as he pouts turning to reluctantly give the milk man back his delivery, and clothes ig :(( BUT THEN "And hurry back, it's my day off and as far as I'm concerned, my property is off the towns border." "Meaning?" "Meaning, if your fast enough your food will still be hot" He RUNS. Like literally little cloud of smoke in the shape of him and everything. When he gets back he realizes you weren't joking. Whole home cooked meal and everything. (If u cant cook than imagine u got horse uber eats or sumth??)

He's vry grateful, even plants a lil kiss on the top of ur head when he walks in. To which you promptly try to ignore in hopes of not making a fool of urself. He probably thinks he's dreaming cause if it were up to him he wouldn't leave. Screw breaking the law he wants to break out a ring and get down on one knee. Hehe I love him. But lets not keep the others waiting shall we? Now Izuku wants to stay but you tell him he needs to scram cause u have things to be doing. He's understanding, bidding you farewell before heading into town to do whatever. So here u are, alone, doing ur thing. When all of a sudden u hear knocking. Weird. You decide to ignore it and eventually it stops. It's not until someone comes running to your door, banging down the door screaming that someone is running around town shooting in the center and I quote this next bit- "Telling 'extra's' to come out and fight him like a man" Yea safe to say u know who this is. So being so nice u head into town ON UR DAY OFF TOO to sort out this mess. And there he is, standing on a barrel in the middle of town is Dynamight, gun out and pointing at what your assuming is some poor bystander. Now you know Bakugou. And as fond of the blonde as you may be, your not the type of person to allow violence, ESSP in ur own town outside ur damn office. So you do something about it. Now he's yelling and cussin all over the place unaware of you standing directly behind him. You don't bother to try gain his attention, instead pressing the cool barrel of your gun to his back. Even through his thick coat he knows that pressure, that familiar sense is one that's not so easily shaken. He goes silent, mouth turned up despite the drying sensation in his throat. He lowers his gun, chucking it to the side. "Took you long enough." The town goes silent watching as the blonde menace steps down from his makeshift throne while you cuff him. Mind u he's smirking during the whole thing. Izuku is watching this from the bar, rolling his eye whole you throw Bakugou in his cell. Stupid sillies. AN- this has been rotting in my drafts for like a week so here. It is vry unfinished but idc lmao

#HoneyGlz #Bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo hcs #katsuki bakugo mha #Bakugou mha #Katsuki Bakugou x reader #bakugou headcanons #x reader #Deku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoria x reader #bnha izuku #izuku midoriya #mha headcanons #I hate this kinda #eh

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anantablake · 1 year

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Fanfic: Good until not

Mighty Med

He enjoyed every minute. Or they thought he was. Until realization hit like a train going 200 m/h

Or my boy is not good but no one realizes until too late

Major tw; don't like don't read

Notes:

Tw: Suicide themes, sh

____________________________________________

For him it was like drowning. Whenever Skylar would barge into the hospital and talk about how she beat a villain with her now recovered powers was like one faucet opened dropping water to his confined space. Hero was all he wanted to be. Instead he is stuck at being a normo at a hospital for superheroes; watching everyone living his dream

It is unfair that he is the stupid friend. It is unfair that he is the middle child that gets no attention. It is unfair that no one is able to notice the hurt behind his face, the pain hiding behind every joke waiting to be uncovered by someone who actually cares about him.

One week

It started with some unwanted attention. He stormed into the bathroom in the verge of tears. Entering the bathroom stall he lets the tears run down his cheeks.

Earlier Tecton's powers were malfunctioning. Superspeeding out of control the damage was severe. One of which was the breaking of the bathrooms mirror

He looked at a little piece of the mirror before picking it up. Its sharpness could easily be identified by the fact that as soon as the shard was in his palm a cut could be seen, slowly dripping a deep red substance.

Blood

He always liked it. The color, the sight of it. Even its smell. That metallic taste of it.

Without thinking he dragged a line to his wrist. A euphoric feeling ran through his body. Realizing how noticeable it was he quickly made a cut to his leg under the shorts he was wearing as to not be noticeable. He quickly wrote the word that made him lose control. 𝑼𝒈𝒍𝒚.

After washing the blood He exited the bathroom.

Seven months this got to be the routine.

On the anniversary of that day for the 8th month, Horace had a fight with Alan. The boy entered the room silence awkwardly existing in the room. Horace out of control yelled at him about his laziness and how not useful he was being. How much of a waste of space he is and how he does not deserve to be in that world.

The last straw was drawn. There was no space for any more cuts. It was time for the space to be opened for someone worthy. He was going to do it.

He went to the medicine cabinet and tried to find the strongest one. There on a small space under the syringes was a white bottle with a red tag on it. The tag read 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂! 𝙀𝙓𝙏𝙍𝙀𝙈𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙍. 𝙊𝙑𝙀𝙍𝘿𝙊𝙎𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝘼𝙇.

He picked up the bottle and ran. He ran to his best friend asking for a hug. He refused...

The hurt could be seen from his eyes. His own best friend was too busy and annoyed to give him a last hug. Of course he didn't know it would be the last time he would see him alive.

Going to his home he went straight to the bathroom. With no one home it was like it was already over.

He picked up the razor and wrote:

𝑼𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

The blood was coating his hands as the water started to fill up the bathtub with him inside. His clothes started sticking to his skin giving an uncomfortable sensation.

Without much hesitation, after some more cutting, he opened the container and took every pill inside. The large white circles went down his throat as the feeling of drowsiness entered his body.

That's when the doorbell sounded.

Oh shit

No one was supposed to come tonight...

Horace's voice sounded through the door. "You forgot your backpack" his voice sounded hoarse with a hint of annoyance.

Tears run through his face as he realized that Horace might be the one finding him.

Horace's pov:

I am certain the boy is home. I knocked the door in case the doorbell was faulty. Nothing. I started banging as a bad feeling ran down my spine. After minutes passed I backed away before slamming my body to the door opening it. As soon as I entered a well known to me smell hit my nostrils. As I explored the house the thick metallic smell was becoming a much more noticeable smell. I saw a locked door. After a few tries the door opened to a sight worse that I have every seen. A scream of a name scratches it's way out of my throat as I ran to the bathtub

"KAZ"

I run to him with a speed i didn't know I had

" Kaz,wake up. Come on. Open your eyes"

I scan his body as tears run down my cheeks. His bloodied wrists wrote the word useless. Was this real? Did the cheerful normo, his kid, do this to himself?

My face lights up when I see his beautiful chocolate colored eyes open. "KAZ! You're ok, you'll be alright just hang on!"

"Ho'ace" like a whisper my name echoes.

"Kaw stay awake, help is on its way!"

I see his eyes begging to close

"KAZIMIERAS DON'T YOU DARE DIE ON ME; DO YOU HEAR ME"

I hear him whispering "itz ok. No big- bigchie"

No biggie? That's what was on his mind?

I quickly pick him up bridal style and ran outside to my car.

Moments later third pov

Skylar looks up hearing a scream. She had just finished telling the story of how she beat Megahertz last time. Horace runs to a gurney putting a blooded Kaz on it. Her eyes widen at the sight. She is ready to puke.

Horace screams " Emergency" as nurses run to look and treat the boy "EXTREME BLOOD LOSS"

Kaz silently let's out a giggle. Horace had not taken notice of the pill container. There was no way he would survive. He closed his eyes with a slight smile on his face.

They try every possible method there is. No pulse; he is long gone.

Skip to the next day

Oliver quite anxiously enters the hospital wondering where Kaz and Skylar were during school time, hoping to find them at the hospital. He lets out a sigh when he sees her back. "Sky!" Something is wrong. He can tell by the looks on everyone's face. Something is really wrong. As Skylar turns to look at him her shining face and puffy eyes give that away.

"Whats wrong?" He asks as everyone turns to look at him with sad eyes. Horace makes an entrance with a serious look on his face

"Who died" Oliver jokes unknown to him the cruelty of it.

"I need to talk to you.... Privately" Horace says with a stiff voice not appreciating the try for the lighting of the mood.

They enter a room Oliver being more concerned.

"Did Kaz ever seemed... weird to you?" Horace asks.

"No... why?" Oliver says weirded out by the question

"Oliver..." Horaces voice fades as hesitation enters his mind

"Kaz last night attempted suicide... successfully..."

Oliver's eyes widen at the realization. His friend. No, his Best friend. Is dead. He killed himself. His knees buckle as his attempt to fall failed due to Skylar catching him while entering the room. He can't believe it. How had he not realized it? He cried into Skylar arms sobbing and screaming. Skylar is looking at him with grief written all over her face while Horace strokes his hair as an attempt to comfort him.

Everyone went to his funeral. All normos and superheroes. Even villains. All dressed in a mourning black seeing as the last rose fell on top a grave with a gravestone that wrote Kazimieras Queen

Went away to soon

Brother, son and friend

And a date longing to fade as no one should really know the young age that the boy left this world. Next to it a photo a boy. Maybe 16 years old. Young and cheerful. The same one that 3 days later willingly took more pills that he should. Kazimieras; a boy gone but never forgotten.

Notes:

Find me on Wattpad and Ao3 as AnantaBlake.

Hey! I didn't cry my eyes out. Jk I really did. And sorry for any grammatical error, english is not my first language:)

And sorry.

If you are struggling right now please talk to someone who is able to offer assistance! Maybe a line you can call. A parent or a psychologist.

Stay strong, stay healthy, stay safe, positivity to you 💙

#kaz #oliver #mighty med #skylar storm #horace diaz #angst #trigger words

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kingexplosionfucker · 2 years

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I Never Thought This Would Happen To Me

TW: SA, Self Harm Mention

I never thought that this would happen to me but maybe I should’ve. It’s one in five women after all and that’s not a small statistic. But I always thought I was careful, I was always in safe place. I was loud and brash and didn’t let other people walk all over me. I thought I had a shitty enough hand in life. I never thought that this would ever happen to me.

It was consensual from his point of view, probably. I never said no even though I wanted to. I just wanted it to be over with, for him to be satisfied and get away from me so I said yes. If I said no, he probably would’ve back off, right? So why didn’t I just say no?

But then he wanted more. He wanted to put his dick in me. I kept deflecting, hoping he’d get the message. “You don’t have a condom.” “We’re outside. Not here.” I could say everything except for no, that stupid word caught in my throat, feeling like I swallowed battery acid. I tried to picture him as someone else when he entered me but it was no use. It hurt and I felt bile rise up only for it to die in my throat. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t my body. The paint is coming off the siding of the house. I wonder what song is playing inside. Why does it hurt? Stop. This isn’t me. This isn’t my body. But it is. And it hurts. I finally get the strength to disintangle myself from him when he takes a breath of air, mumbling something about having to piss or throw up or something. Anything to break away.

I try not to look as panicked as I felt as I stumble into the bathroom, not noticing that my wig was gone, a casualty of whatever had just occurred, gone like what was left of my innocence. I closed the door behind me and collapse onto the shut toilet seat, my finger nails digging into my arms as I replay what happened in my head against my will.

Why did I do that? Why did I let that happen? What’s wrong with me? I feel the bile rise up in my throat as I stand up and lean against the wall, staring at my hollow dead eyes in the mirror, not recognizing the person staring back at me in the mirror. I still don’t notice that I lost my wig, like I still don’t notice that I lost a part of me. I’ll never get it back. I remember taking my pocket knife out of my purse and wanting to do something to myself I knew I would regret.

T knocks on the bathroom door. They ask if someone is in there because they need to piss. I apologize, I think. I don’t remember what I said. I just know that I vacated the bathroom and let them do their thing. I remember standing in the bedroom next to the bathroom door, feeling my heart beat rapidly against my chest, eyes darting around, looking out for Him the way a deer keeps a look out for a wolf. I never thought I’d be prey. I never thought of myself as a deer.

I somehow got back home. I remember getting a ride to my car and driving it the short distance home even though I was drunk as shit because I was too panicked to care. I remember gripping the steering wheel and repeating to myself like a mantra that I just had to get home. I’d be safe at home. He didn’t know where I lived.

I wasn’t safe there, not from myself anyway. I broke down as I stumbled into my own bathroom, tearing off what remained of my costume like it was poison. I made eye contact with my reflection. “What happened to my wig?” I ask her. My reflection shook their head.

And that’s when I broke down, tears running down my face, washing away what little remained of my makeup on my skin. I vowed that I would never drink again, never party again, never be touched again. I remember screaming with a voice that was not mine as I repeatedly punched the bathroom wall until my knuckles stung as much as my heart did. I yelled at my reflection, asking them why they let that happen to them. I called her a whore. I didn’t mean it. Maybe I did. I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

I frantically texted my friends from high school who go here, hoping that one of them would be awake. I never beg but I begged. I couldn’t be alone. I could still feel him. I wanted to destroy myself and rip my skin out and rub it raw. I wanted to shave my head and claw every recognizable feature from my skull so that I would never be the same girl I was before that night.

D answered and asked if I needed her to come over. I said yes. I remember how I collapsed into her arms before she even crossed the threshold, my screen door wide open and potentially letting bugs in. I didn’t care. I just openly sobbed into D’s shoulders. I rarely cry in front of people. I can the amount of times I’ve cried in front of people on one hand. But I couldn’t stop the flood of tears that haven’t fully ceased since I arrived home.

She’s been letting me stay in her dorm since I’m scared of being alone. She’s an amazing friend and I’m beyond thankful for her. I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I hate relying on people. It makes me feel weak.

Everything makes me feel weak now. I never thought of myself as weak.

But then A told me that RB saw what happened and hearing that made me want to claw my skin off. Who else knows? Who else will see me as something dirty now, something tainted? I’m a slut. I never said no. I said yes and I didn’t want to but I still did. I want to rub my skin raw.

So now I’m scared of what people will think of me. I’m sweating in a turtleneck because of scared of what people will think of me, with these bruises of shame tattooed on my neck. I hate looking in the mirror because it is a harsh reminder of what I have lost. What I’ll never be able to have back.

#journal entry #tw sa #tw self harm

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mobbothetrue · 2 years

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Why do I keep having a reoccurring nightmare about a yeti in my house

I am not part of this dream. There are different people living in my house. Chris Pratt and a woman. It’s her house, but she made a deal with Chris Pratt— as long as he goes downstairs every day and closes the vents down there, he can stay.

Downstairs is infinite. There is no exit, and no light strong enough to light it up. It’s a maze, light by occasional, flickering lightbulbs. There’s an old man down there, who will lead Chris Pratt around and speak in stern tones about something. Every time we pass a vent, he’ll point it out, and Chris Pratt will close it. This time he’s angry.

The yeti will not enter the light. Both the old man and Chris Pratt know it’s down there. Walking between lights is so fucking scary. Eventually Chris Pratt closes enough vents for the night and is able to return upstairs. All of the lights are off. He turns them on— the stair lights, the hall lights, and his bedroom lights. The woman understands the stair lights, but turns off the hall lights. She does not believe that there is a yeti.

The dream usually ends with me, or Chris, stood at the top of the stairs and screaming at the yeti. It only got partway up the stairs once. This time it didn’t even appear, but I was so aware that if I stopped yelling, then the Christmas event would trigger.

The Christmas event is supposed to be the hardest thing in the game, because this dream has migrated from one of my mothers rom-com movies to a game. The yeti gets halfway to the woman’s room before you, foolishly, wake up.

Or maybe you think it’s safe. It’s morning. There is light. You will go Christmas shopping for the woman— there is a mall downstairs. You can’t afford rent, but you can afford this. You hope she’ll like it.

The yeti is no longer scared of light.

#mobbtalks #the yeti never gets me and I never see it more than a bit #but it is so ducking scary I wake up terrified that there’s a yeti in my room #also I do say yeti but it is more of a Bigfoot type creature #I remember the old man describing it as ‘matted and stinking of carrion’#also dont ask me abt Chris Pratt. I want him in my dream as much as I want the yeti in my dream #which is none #okay typing this out has chilled me out a bit I’m gonna try and go back to sleep #(also also if you are wondering abt the yelling it turns out that is what I do when I am very scared but there’s nothing I can do about it)#(I will yell stupid shit until my throat breaks. if I run out of words it just becomes noise. full of yelling)

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devildomdisaster · 3 years

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Comfort spell gone wrong (the dateables)

Anonymous asked: for the lore Olympus ask but with the dateables. (Deleted this ask by accident but here it is)

Comfort spell gone wrong

Not only had the brothers been completely horrible the past few weeks but even your friends in purgatory hall and Diavolo himself had been too busy for you.

You understood that Simeon was busy helping Luke work through some things. But still, being brushed aside after the brothers had been so cruel towards you hadn’t helped your crumbling self-worth.

Solomon had heaved a big sigh and told you “They're demons Mc. It’s what they do. You’re going to have to grow a thicker skin. Besides, I don’t have time to help you with something so trivial.” Before handing you a page from a spellbook “if you really can’t deal with it yourself use this for comfort.”

You’d undeniably ruined Barbatos’s hard work when you’d tripped and tipped over the cake he’d been working on all morning. The demon had shooed you from his domain with barely concealed rage and asked you not to come back until “you can prevent yourself from causing me more work.”

Diavolo, despite always telling you you could come to him with your troubles, had snapped that Solomon seemed to be doing just fine. “So maybe you need to try harder, Mc. Rather than blaming your problems on other people.”

The spell Solomon had given you seemed simple enough. Although it was in an unfamiliar mix of Latin and Infernal. Couldn’t hurt to try though. At least not anymore than you were already hurting. You’d cast the spell, stumbling through a few words and thinking it hadn’t worked when nothing happened. Figures you couldn’t do it, you were still new to magic and just as useless at it as everyone had so kindly reminded you the last few days. It still sapped your energy though, stupid spell. You closed your eyes thinking that maybe it was better that the spell didn’t work. You’d never live down the embarrassment if anyone found out you tried to use a comfort spell.

Lucifer calls the others asking if anyone has seen you, after several days of radio silence from you. Solomon, Luke, and Simeon rush to the house of Lamentation once they hear you haven’t been seen for days. They find Lucifer and the brothers crowded around you, worriedly discussing the spell which has covered you and your room in vines. Babratos and Diavolo are already there, both looking guilty. Solomon feels his stomach drop when he recognizes the page from the spellbook.

“Lucifer, I recognize that spell, I gave it to them when-” Solomon begins

“Yes, it figures you would have your hands in this Solomon.” Lucifer glares.

It’s Simeon who steps forward to undo the spell, giving Luke’s shoulder a comforting squeeze on his way by. “Lucifer if you would,” he says gesturing to your form “this will take both our magics to undo, I believe.”

Solomon:

Shit, shit! Solomon recognizes that spell! He gave it to you.

It wasn’t supposed to do this, it was just a simple comfort spell!

But he can’t help feeling responsible for what's happened.

He feels like he should have known, should have realized something was going on when he gave you that spell.

You’d just wanted to talk, but he was so caught up in trying to find a way to make pacts with the brothers that he totally brushed you off.

He handed you a page out of a spellbook instead. And told you to deal with things yourself.

Solomon is crushed. He has always told you that if you ever need to talk to another human, he’d be there. But he wasn’t. He told you to deal with it alone.

When Simeon and Lucifer break the spell he is by your side in an instant.

Hands fluttering over your body, brushing withering plants off you. Feeling utterly useless.

The spell had gotten so convoluted and twisted in ways he’d never seen before, he hadn’t even been able to break it.

You blink your eyes open, Solomon’s distraught face coming into focus.

“Mc, I shouldn’t have given you that spell. I’m so sorry. I-I said I’d always help you if you needed me but all I did was hurt you instead.”

He wants to distance himself from you. But he knows that won’t make you feel any better. It won’t make him feel better either.

Instead, he’ll be far more careful with the magic he gives you. He’ll start teaching you more magic, so you can practice spells safely.

But he’ll also do his best to make sure you never need a comfort spell again.

He wants to be your comfort.

Solomon will plan elaborate outings and magic filled dates. He gets all these grand ideas and half of them turn into disasters but somehow he’ll make sure the two of you still have fun.

It’s easy for Solomon to forget that he needs to communicate better. But he’s trying. Instead of snapping at you again he’ll be sure to set aside time for himself. Besides, being in the Devildom is more fun with an apprentice anyways, plus teaching you magic gives him plenty of time to make sure you are happy too.

Simeon:

Simeon is shocked when he sees you.

A shiver runs down his spine when he feels the spell sucking the energy from your body.

His eyes don’t miss the botched comfort spell on the ground and he wonders why you didn’t come to him.

And then he realizes. You did. But he brushed you off to help Luke and even when you were hurting you didn’t want to burden him.

He feels like he’s failed you by making you feel like you couldn’t come to him.

When you open your eyes Simeon is the first thing you see.

He gently brushes the plants from your face and hair.

“Oh my sweet little lamb, you are never a burden to me. I am so sorry I made you feel you couldn’t come to me.”

Simeon brings you to Purgatory hall while your room is cleaned.

He gently untangles bits of plant matter from your hair, humming what must be some Celestial lullaby to you.

“Mc,” he begins once he’s removed the remaining plants from your hair and skin, and you’ve allowed yourself to relax into him. “Forgive me, Mc. I should have seen how much you were hurting.”

He is being so gentle with you. But his voice takes a stern edge as he tells you “Next time you feel like this, promise me you will come to me. If you tell me what’s going on I will always have time for you.”

Simeon makes sure to check in on you now, to make time for you. He’ll invite you to Purgatory hall for dinners and/or sleepovers. Oftentimes Luke joins you. But sometimes he’ll sneak you in so the sleepover is your little secret.

Diavolo:

Oh, Mc! He hasn’t seen a spell like this in centuries.

He knows it’s a mistake, but the power it must have taken to cast this spell is impressive.

He’s curious to know what kind of power you’ll have after you’ve been trained properly.

That not to say he isn’t concerned, it's just he knows the spell can be undone, and he finds it easier to deal with the situation if he doesn’t think about how close he came to losing you.

He’ll request that the brothers keep a closer eye on you, not that they weren’t going to anyway.

Diavolo will scoop you from the tangled vines, brushing the remaining vines from your skin as he carries you from your room.

He sits down on his throne, with you still held in his arms. For a moment you're afraid of his thunderous expression.

And then his eyes soften. “Mc,” he whispers. Emotion making his throat tighten, choking off his voice. “Why?”

“Why don’t you find a human who can do better than me Diavolo? You said so yourself, I’m a disappointment.”

“Mc, I didn’t mean! I didn’t want you to-! I didn’t”

He knows what he said. But he never meant for you to take it to heart like this. He was just stressed and he took it out on you.

“I’m sorry, Mc. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you. You haven’t disappointed me. I’m sorry I made you feel like you can’t rely on me. Please understand that I would do anything in my power for you.”

A frightening promise from the prince of the Devildom.

Diavolo is careful to control himself in the future. To prevent himself from letting his stress and anger get the better of him.

Careful to remind you how important you are to him, and not just because you are an exchange student, but because he cares for you.

Barbatos:

Anger. Fear. Barbatos tumbles between the two emotions.

It seems that by placing you in this timeline to protect you from Belphagor’s anger he has put you in a new kind of danger. One he didn’t see coming.

This makes him question his decision not to look into the future more than necessary.

Humans are so fragile. And this is just more proof of that fact.

Barbatos is by your side the moment you wake up.

He is lifting you to your feet and guiding you from your room.

Barbatos is a perfect gentleman as he helps you clean up. Helping you scrub the plants from your skin, wrapping you in the softest blankets.

But he remains silent the whole time.

Once you are safely tucked into bed Barbatos speaks. “Mc, I know I have made you feel useless. I should not have taken my anger out on you. I should have known better.”

For a moment you think he’s going to leave, that that’s all he is going to say.

But then he asks if he can stay with you. If the answer is yes, he’ll curl around you in your bed. Holding you to him as if you are likely to disappear.

It has been a long time since Barbatos has had something or someone he has been afraid to lose. “I’m sorry Mc. Please know you can come to me, even if I may be upset. I’d rather you make me face my shortcomings then lose you.”

Barbatos starts having you over for tea more often. He’ll take you on errands with him, if he thinks you’d find them at all interesting.

Mostly he just wants more excuses to spend time with you.

This made him realize how important you are to him and he’ll make sure you know it.

Luke:

Scared little sibling vibes.

Luke is so scared to see you like this!

You are so still and pale that he thinks you might be dead.

When you open your eyes he is so relieved.

Please don’t scare him like this again!

He’s got tears in his eyes, and he half yells half cries at you “Mc! You- you can’t just do something like this. What if- if you had died? I know these demons-” he shoots a watery glare at the demons “can make you feel sad but you’re my friend.”

He’ll ask you to stay at Purgatory hall for a while. He 100% thinks this is all the brother’s fault.

In fact he wants you to move into Purgatory hall permanently and he is so insistent that Diavolo might just let you if that's what you want.

He’ll make sure you know that he sees you as a big sibling, a friend that he could never replace “so please don’t think nobody cares Mc. I know we’re not really related but you’re like a sibling to me.”

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poguesholland · 3 years

Note

Tom x fem! reader where when it comes to arguments or yelling reader kinda shuts down (like her emotions just aren’t there and she’s kidna like a shell) due to a toxic relationship maybe with her parents or an ex it’s like her defense to not get hurt. So her and Tom get in a stupid fight and maybe he yells at her and that triggers the defense and Toms trying to snap her out of it and it just ends in fluff

“God, I’m so fucking sick of this Y/N!” Tom yells, running his hands through his hair in frustration. You furrow your eyebrows in disbelief. “Then just fucking leave Tom!” You shout out then stop to calm down, “Fucking go already, s’not like I’m dying to have you here all the damn time”. Tom’s facial expressions drop at your words, eyes looking at you for any sign of anger on you face.

Maybe you were just mad? Just blurting things out because you were angry? But your face said otherwise. Tom’s heart ached when he searched your eyes for regret, only to be met with a stone cold glare. “What?” Tom asks quietly, waiting for you to apologize or take it back. Breaking the eye contact between you two, you unclench your jaw and immediately switch your act.

It’s what you were used to. When you were younger and you’d fight with your parents, you learned to shut off you emotions fight after fight. Until it was an automatic reaction, almost as if any type of yelling triggered it. However, Tom didn’t know that and this was his first time to see you look so heartless, to see you look at him like he was nothing to you.

“If you wanna go, then go Tom. Dunno what you’re waiting for me to do about it” You speak in monotone, pressing play on the movie you were watching. Tom stands there, baffled at the sight in front of him. There was no way you just turned on a fucking movie in the middle of an arguement.

Tom clenches his jaw before angrily walking over to you and snatching the TV remote out of your grasp, turning off the movie. “What do you want now, God” You groan, turning to look at your boyfriend. The bewildered expression on his face doesn’t fall for a second. “What are you doing?” He let’s out, voice sounding hurt.

You don’t let it hurt you, your wall already built too high to be broken down by his tone. “Trying to watch a movie but apparently that’s not going to happen” You smart mouth but Tom wasn’t having it. “No, I mean what are you trying to do here? Are you trying to shut me out? What the hell are you doing to me right now?” Tom mumbles angrily.

No response. You huff, crossing your legs over each other before slouching on the couch, as if you were bored. What did he want from you now? “Darling, I-I don’t understand. Talk to me, why aren’t you talking to me? C’mon, let’s fix this, that’s what we do. We fight and we make up, my love.” Tom almost pleads and your eyes meet his, a look of confusion displayed on your face.

“We did talk. I told you to leave since you didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Don’t say shit you don’t mean next time if you actually wanted us to talk” You spit. “Why are you acting like this?” “Like what Tom” He shakes his head and you cross your arms against your chest.

“Stop calling me Tom! Stop acting like you don’t care!” His fist slams down against the couch and you raise your eyebrows, “I don’t care”. “Yes you do! Yes— you do, Y/N. I love you and you love me, and this isn’t how you act when you love someone. You don’t pretend to not give two shits, you’re supposed to care and you’re supposed to be able to be vulnerable and not put this wall you’re putting up between us.�� Tom almost pleads.

You look away and try to tune him out, knowing that if you listened you would break down the wall you put up. He lightly grabs your face, turning you to face and make eye contact with him. Your eyes fill with tears as you try not to let his words affect you. “Y/N?” Tom calls out weakly, the lump in his throat causing him to clear his throat.

A tear leaves your eye by accident and you try to lift your hand and wipe it, but Tom grips it. He leans in and kisses over your tear before kissing your temple, then forehead. Then he leans his forehead against yours and you know you’re close to breaking. “I know you care, and that’s okay. You shouldn’t try to hide that from me, its me, you never have to hide anything from me” He speaks softly.

And you snap out of it, blinking once then all your tears fall freely as you let out a choked sob, wrapping your arms around Tom to hide your face in his neck and just let yourself cry. Your body shakes in his arms as it pains him to see you like this. What had happened that made you like this? Made you this upset? You couldn’t believe how you upset you made Tom, how the look of hurt on his face was caused by you, by how heartless you tried to act.

“Darling” Tom murmurs into your hair, rubbing your back softly to try and calm you down. “I’m sorry, I’m so sor-sorry” You hiccup against him, Tom only holding you closer to him at the sound of your broken voice. “Just breathe love, okay? Can you calm down f’me? Please?” He soothes, and your breaths slow. Tom pulls your face away from him, wiping your tears softly.

You sniffle as Tom seats you in his lap, wrapping your legs around him. “I’m sorry” you almost whisper, not finding the strength to higher your voice. Tom shakes his head as if to say there’s no need, but there was. “It-It’s just that ever since my parents were getting divorced, I’ve learnt to- I, I don’t know, switch my feelings off during a fight? So I don’t get hurt I guess.” This was the best explanation you could give as you spoke so quietly, almost embarrassed.

Your eyes couldn’t meet Tom’s, looking down at your thumbs fiddling with each other. “Darling, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got so angry over nothing. I didn’t know but that doesn’t justify it, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Tom says, voice as quiet as yours. His thumb rubs your cheek and you look up, making eye contact.

“But you have to understand that I would never hurt you, A’right? You don’t ever need to shut yourself down with me, I promise you.” You nod and Tom smiles lightly, automatically making you cheer up, which he took notice of. “Thank you Tommy” You mumbles against his chest, your cheek resting against him.

Tom leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, squeezing your waist lightly. It warmed your heart how much he cared. Of course it would be hard for you to stop a habit you’ve developed over the years but Tom made it easy. You knew how much he loved you and how much he cared for you, so slowly you realized that you feel safe around him, unlike your childhood. You can be you with him.

You reach your head up and Tom looks down to meet your gaze. Your hand goes to cup his cheek and pull him closer to you, until you connect your lips slowly. It was a gentle kiss. Almost a reminder that your love for one another will always be there to get each of you through the worst of times. And that’s exactly what Tom helped you to do.

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut.

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl.

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day.

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.”

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way.

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key.

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number.

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too…

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through.

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you.

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze.

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that.

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question.

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it.

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding.

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop.

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty.

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is.

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath.

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning.

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan.

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out.

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch.

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to.

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference?

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream.

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts.

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection.

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed.

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers.

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him.

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere iwaizumi #yandere iwaizumi x reader #yandere iwaizumi hajime #yandere iwaizumi hajime x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: stalking #i've said it like 48 times today #but ily fairy #you deserve the world #if you haven't gone to wish her a happy bday #GO NOW

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mywritingonlyfans · 3 years

Text

Angst fic with Damiano David

prompt: a angsty about reader being sad (dami bff) 'cause damiano doesn't feel the same way romantically. ps. there's a lot of victoria de angelis being a angel in this fic, and it's basically about reader going through it.

warnings: none? it's just a bit sad and longer than usual.

All the soft touches still tingled all over your body. His scent was until now stuck to you, you never thought you’d feel happy to have woody essence along with cigarette smoke on you.

Folding the sleeve of his sweater, you put your tea in one of the cups you always use when you were there. His cotton piece was comfortable, making you didn't regret wearing it in the morning; it was cold and wearing your tank top from the night before didn't feel right. The shorts from yesterday, that were making your legs freeze were enough trouble for you to handle. The remnants of your clothes and belongings were collected from the floor of his room and placed carefully on his headboard, you made sure you were being quiet. Damiano has always been a heavy sleeper, but your counscious prevented you from risking disturbing him when he looks so peaceful. You had already spent much time at his place so you memorized where every thing in his kitchen - and others rooms - was; baking eggs and making tea wasn’t a mystery for you. You had even separated a Tylenol tablet for Damiano, so he could have it with his tea when he woke up with a wicked hangover. He wasn't the type to get drunk and forget what he did, nor were you. Since when you were teenagers, you have gone out and been drunk together a lot of times, and although your feelings were already present, nothing never happened. This time, however, alcohol helped injecting a dose of courage on him. Being honest with yourself, you didn't remember who started it; but the kiss in the midst of the loud music, his hand on the back of your neck, the exchanging glances while dancing and the moment he took you home, they were pretty vividly in your mind. You still felt relaxed, as if his sweaty body was still over yours. Minutes with your eyes closed was enough to feel his eyes roaming your body all over again.

“Hi,” he said in a slurred voice, cutting off your line of thoughts. You jumped, briefly scared but soon turned your attention to reality; a tired Damiano scratching his eyes in front of you.

He was dressed, wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, duly comfortable according to the weather.

“Headache?” You knew he was. He was always a good drinker, he put up with it a lot, but he was never one to get rid of the effects of alcohol on the next day. You, on the other hand, got on better with this issue; fortunately from the night before, only the good moments remained with you.

“Yeah, a bit,” he giggled. “What a night, I’d say.” He added, in a lower tone. What was acceptable, you also felt a bit weird to be in front of him.

“I got you some pills,” you pointed it out to him on the counter, trying to maintain a normal behavior; with no shacking voice or sweaty hands. Quite impossible. “I made tea too.”

“Dear God, you’re a life saver!” He smiled at you, eyes crinkled and all of his perfect teeth on display. Contagious.

You grinned, feeling your body getting lighter. “No worries. I’m glad to help.”

“Y’know, when I woke up and saw that you weren't there I thought you were gone. You know? Friendship destroyed and that whole thing. I’m happy to see you; relieved.” He took a sip of his tea, and maybe a bit of your heart with it. You were an explosion of feeling when it comes to him, you always have been. “That sweater looks good on you, you can keep it if you want. You know that’s my fave one.” And, yeah, you knew.

The tension on you was no longer intense, comforting you to let out the breath you were holding. “It’s good to hear that,” Your genuine smile managed to say many things, you wished Damiano had noticed you earlier on other occasions. “Do you remember that one time, when we were younger, that you were a bit crazy about a girl; Alice was his name.” You stopped; in need of air - nervous - and watched Dami's attentive face. “She was the first person to whom you dedicated a song, you played it to her at school break. The cutest thing I had ever seen. I think it was there that I realized, a little jealous—“

“Y/N,” his voice had been almost inaudible, causing no effect. Had he really tried?

“How in love I was with you.”

His face was paler than usual, he was paralyzed; speechless. You had never seen Damiano like this, the men was always all over the place in a sweet talkative mess.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to read his expressions and realize how fucked up you were. The dose of happiness in your blood had been able to manipulate you to believe in what you most wanted to happen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” your blood had gone up to your ears, all you could pay attention to was the pressure in your head. How had you thought that after one specific night he would suddenly decide that he was in love with you? After all of this time that you were just a good friend for him? “I’m truly sorry but I’m don’t—“

“Feel the same way?” You finished. He nodded, apprehensively. You have never felt so stupid. It was a mixture of shame, fear and insecurity. You were unable to look directly at him, you knew that there was no change in following a friendship after what you just said, much less after the night before. You had never been so screwed.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have said a thing.” You whispered, realizing that the lump in your throat had turned into tears that you didn't even know were running down your face.

“Come here,” he opened his arms, walking towards your emotionless frame. You allowed yourself to melt in his grip.

Your tears fell freely; you could even try to hold it back but there was no strength left for you to think about it. Your crying was silent, as was the kitchen room. Your head was full of questions and cursing at yourself. Suddenly you wished Damiano had yelled at you, asked you to get out of there or said he wouldn't never speak to you again. It seemed easier to deal with it in this alternative way than to have him comforting you for loving him. “Shh, it’ll alright. I could never be mad at you.”

He talked about your friendship, but you knew that nothing would end up well. Maybe for him. But for you? It’d not be that easy. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known better, you were so loving with me last night that I thought— Fuck, we slept together. Which I know isn’t your fault because I don’t even remember who—“

“Stop, Y/N. Look at me,” He was being careful. You were making a person like Damiano calculate his words, that made you feel like pure shit. You stopped talking, looking at him was still difficult. He understood that you wouldn’t be doing so. “That’s fine. I don’t feel bad about you liking me in that way, you’re wonderful. I don't regret anything, last night was great, but I just... don't feel the same. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I can't even imagine how hard it’s being for you right now.” His words sounded sweet and sincere. He had tears in his eyes as well. His ability to be so empathetic to everyone was something you loved the most about him. He was probably killing himself on the inside for breaking you.

You nodded, leaning on the counter. You wanted to ask him if he remembered that he was your first kiss at the age of seven or all the times he sent you vinyl records with some message - that he had written himself - inside the cover. How did he not feel the same, shouldn't you be everything he wanted?

“Dami?” You sighed. Your eyes were red, your face probably swollen. You then looked straight at him; that surprisingly wasn’t much better than you. “Have you ever looked at me and seen me in another way? Something more than just your best friend?”

He didn’t say a thing, just look at you standing there. You get it.

“I think I should go,” You broke the silence that had been formed. You thought about taking his sweater off, but since you weren't wearing anything underneath, you thought it was better not; you’d have to go to his room to change, and then pick up your things only to delay your leaving.

“I can drive you home,” he said in a hush, looking for his car keys.

“It’s okay, a walk will be fine.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, I can't let you walk over there like that.”

You ignored what he said, walking around the house to the front exit. He tried to grab your arm just for you to step back.

“I know you're just trying to help, but I need to be alone right now, without you near me.” You tried to say it in the most normal way possible, you didn't want to be mean, you only wanted to be fair to yourself.

“Sure.” It was the last thing you heard him say before you left, feeling the cold wind on your body. You didn't know if he had entered his house again or if he was watching you hug yourself as walking slowly to somewhere. You wouldn't dare to look back.

--------------------------------------------------------

“C’mon girl, get up here,” Upon hearing the husky, strong voice, you were relieved.

Victoria wasn’t wearing her usual jewelry and looked like she had just been woken up by force. You weren’t as close to her as you were with the other boys, however, you had never been so happy to see her.

You got in her car. “Thank you,”

“God, you look terrible. You’re fine?” You looked at your reflection in the rearview mirror and well, fine was definitely something you didn't look like.

“Dami asked you to come and get me?” Your throat was scratching, it was difficult to speak.

“Yeah,” she looked at you quickly, but due to your discomfort she backed off. More tears would come. “He didn't say why though, he just said he needed someone to come to you before you froze to death.” She said it in a way that made you laugh, even with your eyes filled with tears. “Did the two of you have a disagreement? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to.”

“Something similar.” You said shakily; due to your crying and chilly. Inside the car was heated, but your body was so cold that it didn't seem to be enough. You tried to snuggle in the passenger seat, letting your head rest against the window like in a sad film. Maybe that’d help.

“Here,” she handed you a coat, without hesitation you took it. “I brought it to you in case you needed it.”

You nodded slowly. “Thank you, Victoria,”

“You can call me Vic, just like everyone else,” she laughed.

You gave her a half smile. “Okay then, thank you very much, Vic,”

The rest of the day would be crying while you curled up in your bed, you’d let yourself feel at your worst; promising that you would try and change that the next day.

———----------------------------------------------

You expected the first few days to be the hardest, but it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Damiano had tried to call you a few times and in all of them you responded dryly, using short words, pretending it’d be okay. You truly tried, but you needed time to process what happened. You told him that, and then time he gave you.

After completing a month of the incident, you noticed how 'dependent' you had become on him. He was always around since you were kids, any problem you had you would look for him to talk to, now you felt like you had nothing. Your friends were friends of his, too, more of his friends than yours. You missed having Thomas failing on teaching you how to play guitar on your couch and besides you thought about calling him - just to distract yourself - you remembered that he was more a friend of Damiano than yours. It’d be weird. None of them contacted you at that time, not even Thomas. You couldn't figure it out if Dami had told them what happened and they decided to give you space or if they just didn't care about you when you wasn’t around Damiano.

Basically, where Dami was you would be and vice versa. It had always been like that.

When you saw that just time wasn’t solving anything, you programmed yourself to live in a way that you were busy all the time. Your routine became work, home and most of the time taking the work to be done also in your home. You didn't feel energized to make new friends, and going out on dates could help momentarily but it wouldn't be fair to go out with someone in the ‘mood’ you were in; then these ideas were soon discarded. Sleeping was impossible, you spent hours rolling over in bed; both for the flashbacks that plagued your mind, but also for the fact that you missed him. The nights were worse when you visit your mother or when she called and said, "Dami never came to see me again." or something like. “Are you still talking to each other? We don't let someone like Damiano leave our lives.”

Deep down, you knew there was no way you could be in love with him forever and that no matter how much it hurt at that moment it would pass. You started to repeat it to yourself as much as you could, so when the boys got in touch with you again you didn't hesitate to answer. Nothing bad would happen, you just need to pretend to be fine. The first to send you a message was Thomas, with simple questions, he acted like nothing had happened, you liked it. Even though it was obvious that Thomas, as one of his boys, would know this in more detail than you did (which was a lie, but at least he knew how Damiano was feeling about it, which you wouldn't know). He updated you about Dami, who was great as always, and you said you were doing well when he asked. You answering him made Ethan talk to you too, although they were all polite and delicate, they seemed more to be sorry than to miss you. Pity wasn’t something you were expecting.

After five months, you still felt like crap. You had tried to stop counting the days that had passed since you last saw Damiano, but it was almost impossible. You could still remember that night vividly, but you were still trying your best to move on; leave it behind. Mysteriously, you wanted to see him, see how he was doing and find out if he had anything else to say but you were afraid to see him, go back to your place as his best friend just to realize that your feelings for him had not abated at all.

“...I haven't seen you in a while. I wonder if you're alright,” you heard when answering your phone. Your head hurt, your eyes stung. You had slept on spreadsheets that you brought home from your work.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Shit,” she murmured.

You looked at the phone screen. “Sorry Vic, I just woke up I'm still trying to copy.” You laughed to calm her down.

“I thought I didn't have my number,” her voice became softer, as if she was relieved that you had saved it. “I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to know how you‘re doing, since I used to see you almost every day, y’know?”

You thought about saying that you saved her number the day Dami called to pick him up at a bar since his phone battery was dead and he was in no condition to drive, but Victoria clearly knew that. “Is Dami with you?”

“No,” her tone matched yours; Dami had told her, now she was being careful with her words. “I saved your number the day Dami needed to call you, in case I needed to call you again.”

“That’s alright, thanks for checking on me then.”

“But he would love to talk to you. He always asks the boys about you or comments on you so that someone can bring you up to the convo. He seems a bit lost when you not ‘round to be honest.”

Somehow hearing that made you happy. Still, the image of discomfort whenever you thought of talking to him scared you. The phone line was filled with silence, until Victoria's husky voice filled the line.

“Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about Damiano. We finally finished the album and decided to have a small celebration at my house,” you giggle at the formality. “We thought you should go, since you were present in more than half of the process. I‘d like you to come. We’d all like you to come.”

———

Your heart accelerated with each step you took as you entered Victoria's house. The rooms had a glow of being calm and the music that was playing helped to make the place cozy. The instrumental of the band reminded you of Fleetwood Mac, and for the little that you knew Vic you would say that the type of sound reminded you of her.

Her house wasn’t crowded, there were only a few people around; some you’ve seen before, some you haven’t. You thundered your fingers over some vinyl that were arranged in a corner, pretending to read them. You were looking for familiar faces, honestly even for Damiano, but for some unknown reason you didn't want to make that obvious. Your eyes captured Thomas talking to some girls, and soon you felt relieved to be dressed according to the occasion; or at least according to the girls who were close to Thomas. It didn't take long until he noticed you standing there, you waved and he came to you. He looked surprised, still he didn't wait for you to say anything else, just wrapped you in his arms so tight you had to ask him to let go in between muffled laughter.

“Vic working miracles! Come, I'll take you to the others.” He said in his cute form, holding your hand as guiding you through the house. “So, how's our best girl?”

Your lips parted in a smile. “I’m alright, pretty much the same to be honest,” there was no time for him to ask another question because you soon spotted Ethan and Victoria with their beers in hands. They seemed to be shocked to see you as well; and it was starting to irritate you for reasons you couldn't explain. Thomas put you behind him, hiding you from the two of them as if they hadn't seen you already. He was being such a sweetheart that he had even managed to soften the anxious butterflies in your stomach; but not enough to keep your mind free of worries and Damiano David. Thomas made a funny noise with his hands as Ethan ignored his attempt to be amusing, pulling you into a hug. Who would have thought you would have missed them so much.

“How long without seeing you, I force you not to do that again. Without you we are just another disorganized mess.” You laughed at his nonsense. Your smile was sincere, like it hadn't been for months, still you were forcing yourself a bit more to appear to be actually 'fine'. You’d like to know if they noticed, even though you were appreciating that they didn’t.

“No worries, I‘m not planning on leaving you guys alone.”

Ethan and Thomas started to discuss about something, Ethan was already under the effect of alcohol, and from time to time they asked for your opinion on how Victoria had been strangely quiet. Atypical of her, but she didn't seem to be out of place or uncomfortable, just quiet.

“Did a cat eat the tongue of my newest attractive friend?”

“Not this time,” she showed you her tongue, and then smirked. Her eyes shone in differently way under your gaze and her make up was making her look more mature. “Are you feelin’ good? Thank you for coming.” Victoria was happy to see you, you could feel that. She might be curious, but pity wasn’t something possible to see in her; different from the other boys. “You must be tired of hearing that question, I'm sorry. It‘ll no longer be asked.”

Her voice was soft, comfortable to hear. “I appreciate that. I really have heard a lot of that, but despite everything, I feel good ‘bout bein’ here.”

“I feel even happier that you came then,” she put her hand gently on your waist. The other two didn't even remember you and Vic were there. “Let's get you something to drink, we bought that red drink Damiano always says you love.”

“No way, it’s bishop cocktail?” You looked at her, a big grin on your face, even though you remembered that this was the drink you were drinking when the universe decided it would be a good idea for you and Dami to have a one-night stand. Just a lovely reminder. “Have you mixed everything up? like the rum with the red wine? or with red drink you just want to say you bought wine?” You asked, ignoring your internal conflicts. Everything would be fine, you ket repeating to yourself.

“In fact, I remember once hearing you comment you didn't mind it being mixed up in a random bottle.”

She pulled a glass bottle out of a bucket full of ice and you couldn't believe she remembered that; given that you could count on your fingers the times that you had actually spoken to her. You didn’t avoid each other, just didn’t have much of the opportunities.

“Oh my god, that’s so fuckin’ lovely.” You whispered. She was quick to pick up a glass and hand it to you, filling it with the so well remembered liquid. You took a sip, and the taste - or alcohol - made your butterflies calmer. “Thanks for that, tastes like heaven.” She took a glass for herself, by her expression she thought it was a waste of rum. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“If you think so, who am I to deny.”

“Don’t be a bummer,” you bumped your shoulder with hers, eliciting a cute sound from her that made you laugh as well.

You wish that sensation had lasted longer, even so when a random girl approached you to ask something, you felt heavy; like a sign. Her hair was golden in perfect waves and her face was angelic in an almost divine way. You might have been overreacting, but she was the type to catch all the attention to herself.

“You’re Y/N, right? I was startin’ to think that I’d never get to know you.” She hugged you tight and you wondered if she really didn't know you. When she released you, you felt your heart breaking right there in front of her. She was wearing Dami's sweater; the same one from that night, the same one that you wore. You wanted to be wrong, but you’d know that sweater from a distance even after years. “He talks so much about you. Can you believe we never met?” She asked, alternating her gaze between you and Victoria. She had been silent, you had forgotten that she was still there. Your head was miles away in thoughts, making you dizzy.

“Hi, Bella,” Victoria said. You remembered that name. Damiano talked about her on a few occasions, anyways he didn't seem to be in love - or you just didn’t want to see that. Maybe you haven’t been able to read him due to your stupid passion. “How’s everything?”

She started talking to Victoria and you couldn't concentrate on listening; all the alcohol in the world would not ease what you were feeling. How long have they been together? What was so special about her that Damiano gives her his favorite sweater? Were they together when you slept together? How did she end up with the same sweater you slept in that day?

She held the cup that was in your hands and handed it to Victoria. “Are you okay, hon’? You look a lil’ unwell. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No need, I’m alright,” she patted your arm, and then checked your temperature. She was being nice, yet you couldn't pretend to be interested in being there anymore.

Thankfully, Victoria put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you want to join her to have a smoke. “It’ll be good, fresh air will do good to you.”

You agreed. Bella was worried and you felt bad about having to run away from her. She looked like an incredible person, sure Damiano was lucky to have her, that was just too much for you.

“Do this, you will feel better. We can talk later and so you can tell me everything about you and Dami, I’d love to hear you, since you’ve known each other for so long.” You looked for some irony in her voice, but you didn't found it. She was interested in you; after all, you were her boyfriend's best friend. It made sense.

Victoria guided you to the balcony, or at least halfway to it. Midway, someone stopped to talk to her, she tried to dismiss the person, however, as it was a thing related to the album, she would have no way out. “Victoria, it’s fine, I need some time alone.” You whispered to her, patting on her arm. She looked at you reluctantly, but understand. There wouldn't be much she could do for you.

Entering the balcony you felt an absurd urge to cry, your eyes itched and your legs were trembling. Was being in love meant to hurt this much, or was it just a game of chance?

You tried to take a deep breath, ease your heartbeats, telling yourself it was okay. You just needed to calm down. You leaned your body against the wall and watched the place. The plants near the fence - which you didn't know how Victoria had time to take care of them - the streets, and then the sky. Starry and moist, made for good memories that wouldn't come to you. When you felt ready enough to go out and face the party again, you ran into the one you were trying to avoid, Dami. Minutes ago you were anxious with the possibility to see him to know how he was, now you just wanted to run away and wipe these last months out of your mind.

“Y/N,” his body collided with yours while his arms wrapped around you, it was supposed to be a good thing, that you‘d feel safe as the same way you used to feel, except that was uncomfortable now. You couldn't even respond to his hug, for a second you thought you would escape without having to see him. He noticed and gave you space. “I swore that you wouldn't come. My god, it's so good to see you.” He ran his hands through his hair and you remained paralyzed in front of him.

You tried to focus on your breathing so that your voice came out without too many complications. “Yeah... It's good to see you, you look great.” It didn't work, your voice was shaky making your lie sound even worse. He looks great, you didn't lie, he seemed even happier and well rested. You wondered if it was because the album was ready or because now he had Bella.

You forced a smile, but unlike the others, Damiano knew you were acting. He didn’t judge or question, his face became tense, apprehensive. He knew that nothing was right.

“I thought about callin’ you more, goin’ to see you or something. The boys convinced me that it‘d be better not, that it could be even hard for you. I wonder if I shouldn't have done something different to help you because I know I fucked up too.” His hands were undecided between running through his hair and staying inside his pockets. He was nervous, at the same relieved to have spoken to you.

“It wasn't your fault, I’d never blame you for that,” you sighed, smiling slightly. It felt terrible to make him feel that way about it, but there wasn't much you could do. “I'm glad you gave me space when I asked, it's still hard to see you or think about talkin’ to you. It is as if everything that is tormenting me comes all at once.” It was good to say that to him. He nodded and you looked at each other for a while. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.

He was a few feet away from you while you were admiring the night, with your back against the wall. You wanted to leave, maybe go cry in your bed until you fell asleep, still you wanted things to work out with Dami, you wanted that tension and fear of seeing him to get out of your head. Despite that, if it was necessary to suffer in that process, it would not be worth it.

“She’s amazing,” it hurt to say that, but it was the truth. “Bella’s amazing, lucky girl.” You smiled sadly. Saying her name and seeing Dami smiling at that made you thank God for not seeing the two of them together, hugging or kissing. He‘d probably put his hand on her waist while she was talking to one of his friends or giving lightly kisses to her temple, just because he felt like it. Damiano was the cute type, you've seen it before.

“She is, an amazing person. She was all happy to have spoken to you. I told her all about our teenage years and how you always supported the band,” He had told her about you, would he have told her about you being in love with him? You thought to ask, soon giving up. It’d be shameful if so. “If I knew you would be here I’d not have come with her.” It made you think that he had told her.

“What would you do? Would you hide me from her for the rest of your life?” You sighed. it was supposed to sound like a joke, regrettably your voice sounded too cruel for that.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “I was just tryin’ to think of you and—“

“I think I need to go Dami, it’s being too much. I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there, you couldn't stop the tears anymore and you knew it was a bad idea to talk about her with him.

You took a few steps back just for Damiano to grab at your arm, without putting strength, just like a few months ago, to stop you in front of him. You turned your face away from looking at his eyes, feeling as the tears run down your cheek. You'd never be able to face him, this situation was only proving that to you even more.

“Please, Y/N. Just tell me what I need to do. I will do anything for you to talk to me again. I need you, you know that. The past few weeks have been a mess without you around. Even little my mom misses you. I’d do anything to have you back like before.” He was about to cry, his eyes shone with tears and it was painful to watch. He could do anything for you to stay; except what would make you stay. Unfortunately, it didn't depend only on his good will.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you said in a lack of air, signaling the space around you with your finger. “But this, this is too much. It kills me to have to be close to you or to be close to things or people that remind me of you, seeing someone else with you doesn't help at all. I still think about the fact that we slept together... I can’t just forget it ‘cause it meant so much to me and to you, to you? it was nothing.” You were out of breath, you just wanted to cry in peace, put everything out until there was nothing left.

He released his hands of you, his face red and damp. It wasn't going to be easy for either of you. Time wouldn't matter; it wouldn’t change a thing because whenever you looked at him you’d wonder about how things could have been like if he had chosen you.

He whispered one more time that he was sorry, then let you go. He could have stopped you, but it's not like he knew what to do anymore.

He watched as you walk out without even looking back.

——-

You went through the party walking fast, avoiding acquaintances and questions about why you were like that. Your body was heavy as well as your conscience. Outside the house the street was empty, the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and along with the silence of the street you felt invited to sit there. You brought your knees close to your body, trying to breathe calmly. Pulling the air in, and then releasing it in a normal way. Your heart was beating so fast that your whole body was agitated. You tried to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy when you saw someone walk out the front door of the house. You dropped your knees, trying to look decent, but gave up as soon as the person came closer to you and you saw that it was Victoria. She sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. You were happy that she went to you.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, hugging her waist and hiding your face in the fabric of her shirt.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re far from being fine, I won’t judge you sweetheart,” she comforted you, giving you a extra squeezing. You were far from being alright, but it helped, having someone there helped.

She placed her chin on top of your head, soothing you until your crying softened. She rubbed your back and whispered that it’d be okay.

“Did Damiano send you here?”

“No, darlin’. He said that you had talked, and then you had to leave, he didn't look well, I thought you wouldn't be either.”

“And then you decided to look out for me?” You laughed, still tucked in her warm arms.

“Yep, sounds like you need me, don’t you think?” She laughed too, causing the vibration of her chest next to yours make you feel taken in.

“Why’s love so painful?”

Victoria didn't answer, she was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then she stood up, holding out her hand for you.

“What?”

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, you’ll get in the car with me and we will do something, anything, drink milk shakes, fill up our bellies with pizza ‘til we can't take it anymore, or even rob a bank.” She held you by the waist, lifting you up for her. “Please,”

You didn't see why not to accept. There was nothing worse that could get even worse at the moment, maybe going somewhere would do you good. “Even rob a bank?” She nodded, pointing to where her car was.

A smile spreading across her lovely face as you realized you’d go anywhere she wanted with her. “Yes, even robbing a bank.”

#damiano david #damiano david x reader #måneskin #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano imagine #damiano angst #maneskin #fanfic #fiction #imagines #maneskin x reader #writing

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

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Can you do a reader x Damon salvatore where everyone thinks the only reason they are together is because damon sired her, but she gets angry and tells them the truth that she always had feelings and didn't say anything because she knew he liked Elena...

Sire Or No Sire

damon Salvatore x reader / masterlist

summary; it is easily perceived why you look at Damon the way that you do, though most people think that is an affect of him having turned you to save your life. And that is the last straw of you realising that they know nothing / warnings; mentions of Damon x Elena, mentions of Damon x Caroline, jealousy, angst, mentions of the sire bond, mentions of sex, swearing, angst, breakup, toxic friendships

Their voices, their aloud opinions, brought you nothing but pain, the tragedy seeping into your vervain allergic veins, as you shook your head. It was as though they thought that you were unable to hear their chatter, but you knew that they would be wrong with assuming so. You were no longer weak, with human senses flooding your every whim, you were a vampire.

An immortal. It felt strange to think that you would no longer age in physical layers, instead, your mind would be the only participant within your body to forever grow with the various memories that you would be collecting through the next decades. Though, you weren’t the only one, Caroline was in that room, reprimanding Damon for saving your life.

You could hear her words loud and clear, as the Salvatores and the rest of your friends stood by, some agreeing with her, such as Elena, whereas others remained silence, such as the vampire that had turned you in the first place. The viscous tone hissing out of the blonde’s mouth scathed you emotionally, and ended with you thudding back against Damon’s bedroom door, before entering the room, and ensuring that it was locked behind you.

“The two of you are only together because of the sire bond. You turning her, had become nothing more an excuse to fuck and put a label on it!”

Did she think that she was defending you? Because to you, it didn’t sound like it, but that was Caroline for you, always insistent of her opinion, though, you two did get along. The pair of you understood what it was like to be on the sidelines, whilst perfect Elena played the victim every time, and got any guy she wanted, even her friends were swayed with the young gentlemen first.

Elena Gilbert was the epiphany of perfect; she was the damsel in distress, giving the opportunity to whomever she sought after to come and save her. You weren’t her, dissimilar to the whiny brunette, you were prepared to fight the monsters that threatened your life, human or not. And that included Damon long ago, before you saw how sweet the over century old man was.

One thing that you had never done though, was date someone and bluntly flirt with their brother. That was crossing a line, you appreciated honesty, especially in this lifestyle, and Caroline had declared her thoughts. She spoke truthfully, believing her own words, though they were far from facts.

They needed to know that you weren’t invested in a relationship with Damon because of him turning you, it was something you had never asked for, nor dreamed about. But it had happened, and whilst it brought the pair of you closer, there was no maker bond, instead, there had already been a flirtatious brewing between the pair of you whilst you were still human.

You becoming like him gave the two of you more time together as he trained you to breathe idly in and calm your bloodlust. Or how in the middle of the night, he would come by your house, and awake you from a terror, afterwards taking you for an innocent stroll through the woods.

Without him, you’d have been on a path to nowhere, lost and unable to find a route to continue on, wading through the life after death with no direction, nor set course to keep you in line. Surely, you’d have murdered many a man or woman, if you were dependant with surviving with her bewitched curse of immortality, digging into their inviting throats with your dagger canine teeth, that pulsed to be fed.

“That’s a load of- you know what, think what you want to think, you have a history of jealousy filled, toxic and werewolf involved relationships, you are not exactly the best person here to judge me on my healthy and loving romantic partnership with y/n!”

Damon half yelled at the vampiric blonde, however, another tone was fast to respond to his defensive outburst and cause the both of you a disgruntled pair of expressions. “She was turned by you brother, that runs the risk of a sore bond appropriating her feelings.”

Oh, noble Stefan. He had caused you to snap, thrusting the door open to his brother’s bedroom open, making its hinges weaken, as you whisked through the halls in seconds, joining the compendium of mystic falls in the living space, all eyes turned to you, well aware that you had heard all their smart mouthed and toxic opinions.

The sire bond wasn’t something that was too uncommon, however it affected nothing in your life. It was just for them to pick at something that was good, they could never allow something that was actually decent to revel in existence. They had to be the ones with the perfect prissy lives, not others.

“Shut your mouth, ripper!” Yes, you pulled at that string of his life, dangling it degradingly before his eyes, watching as his eyes that were focalised into you turned sour. “I love your brother, and just because you loved the love triangles the pair of you would be involved in with bitchy Gilbert over there, or bloody Katherine, does not make any other people that he or you are with invalid!”

Elena stepped forwards, her doe eyes boring with contained anger towards you. Though instead of speaking to you, her words were directed at her ex, and she wanted to gouge your reaction. “You promised me that we were going to last forever, are you going to do the same to her?”

“No, because I don’t need a time span to appreciate her presence in. I don’t need to tell her lies nor make selfish promises, because with her I am a better man.” Damon sneered at her, coming to stand beside you, protectively wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s the sire bond.” Elena stated furiously, hating the fact that she was not getting her way. In turn, you laughed, shaking your head at her incessant denial of allowing Damon to move on.

“Shut the fuck up, if you had maybe given a shit about me in the past, you’d have realised that I would stare at you enviously when you were at his side. But maybe you knew, and you just wanted to brag, but I can prove that there is no bond other than the one we already built together.”

“Yeah, and how are you going to do that?” She pestered, and with a sorrowful glance directed at Damon, you dropped your head, anything but proud with what you were about to do. Swiftly you turned, watching as Damon’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to leave.” Whence you began to walk, a hand grasped your wrist, keeping your feet locked where they were. Caroline’s voice broke through the air, her eyes were filled with regret, from all the things that she had said, and all the opinions that she had formed.

“You’re not serious! You’re gonna break up with him because of us?” Stiffly you nodded, watching as Damon felt a taken back. He gaped his mouth open, in shock.

“I’d do anything for my friends, despite the circumstances not being reciprocated. I’m not even allowed to be in a relationship with the man that I love because you are all endorsed with the idea that it’s some stupid bond. Yes, we have a bond, but it’s not a sire one.”

“Baby, don’t.” Damon practically begged, watching as you yourself were torn and conflicted in regards to the situation. A sad smile monitored your face, as you slipped out of his grasp.

“We might have to wait another lifetime until we’re allowed to be together without resorts of undermining and people that don’t really care about us. Some people want there to be a whole ass agility course to separate us, but maybe if we wait, we can prove how wrong they are, if they’re not dead by then.”

Caroline felt terrible, once again Stefan had taken his brother’s life from him, and Elena, well she felt accomplished. She went to reach for Damon’s arm, but he threw her consoling manner and herself across the room, heading straight after you, with a bottle of bourbon.

If you could leave them to prove a point, so could be; he loved you. That was enough, especially for him, he could leave those doses of poison behind, if he would grant himself permission without asking, a peaceful life with you.

#damon salvatore angst #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore x reader #damon x reader oneshot #vampire diaries damon x reader #Damon x reader angst #damon x reader imagine #damon oneshot #tvd damon x reader #damon imagine #damon salvatore x y/n #damon salvatore one shot #tvd angst #tvd one shot #tvd request

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a-jynx · 3 years

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Hi love! How are you today? Also, I have a request for you. What do you think about, Platonic!Tommy x Reader, where they are bestfriends, and Tommy catches a cold, and gets all clingy with the reader, and ends up falling asleep in their arms. While he is asleep, reader goes live on insta, or tiktok, you choose, and “makes fun if him” for “not being clingy”. Just two best friends cuddling, ya know? 😅 (but nothing sexual)

Hello, hello dearest! I am doing pretty well, I hope you’re doing well! And I genuinely love everything about this request - it’s too adorable! Sick!Tommy definitely needs all the bestie cuddles he can get :D So I hope I do this request justice and thank you so much for the request !! <3

Platonic!Tommy x reader (I wasn't sure if you wanted C!Tommy or CC!Tommy, so I went with CC!Tommy since the Content Creators are who I've been writing for, however I can rewrite this! ) *Especially if against boundaries*

~~~~

You knew! You absolutely knew when Tommy told you about going to the water course, on a partially frigid day, something was going to happen, now look where he was… Acting like a whiny, snot-nosed toddler.

“Y/nnnnn,” Tommy’s voice trailed from your bed, making you shift in your seat to see the tall blond sprawled out against your covers, groaning and sniffling. “Tom, if you get as one drip of snot on my sheets,” your warning - of course - fell to deaf ears as he sat up, groaning from what you could tell was the sinus pressure and headache. “Would you like me to turn off the lights?” You murmured, hoping to not agitate his ache more than it already was, however, he gently shook his head.

“No, but forget your stupid editing for two seconds and come ‘ere,” he all but coughed as you winced, hearing the rawness in his throat and with the soft lights you could see his eyes were slightly red and teary, as well as nose blushed red from blowing it. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes as you pushed your chair back, shaking your head at your ill best friend with a tut. You flopped onto the bed, causing him to jump with the impact with an annoyed huff - glancing at you with a frown. “That ‘stupid editing’ I’m doing is actually for your stupid channel, so watch it or I’ll corrupt all your files,” you bit, wiggling your fingers towards him, attempting to possible irritate him, but he just pushed your hand away and scooted back against your mountain of pillows with a groan. You laid next to him, pressing your shoulders together as you both stared at the dinghy ceiling.

“You wouldn’t dare,”

“Try me, big man,” you both broke into grins at the nickname as Tommy broke out into a fit of coughs, making you frown. Scooting closer, you wrapped him into a hug, not minding the warmth from his hoodie. He slumped into you, sighing as you both laid peacefully. It didn’t take long for Tommy’s snores to rattle you, blinking as you glanced at him - his mouth parted and a bit of drool sliding down his chin.

“Gross,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone from it’s charging port with a wicked grin. Opening your phone, you maneuvered yourself to be comfortable with the weight of the lanky blonde boy in your arms as you clicked onto TikTok, grinning as you clicked the Go Live.

Viewers began to pour in as you glanced between the “hello” and “hi’s.” Since becoming one of Tommy’s few editors, and even jumping onto the bandwagon of streaming - you gained a following quickly.

“Hey, guys!” You whispered, keeping your voice a low hum as Tommy moved, somehow cuddling closer as you snickered, attempting to keep the phone steady on the two of you. “I’m a bit pinned down at the moment, so Tommy’s new video may take a bit to go out! But, how’re you all today?” You watched chat - catching a few ‘good!’ and ‘better now.’ You were thankful for the community you gained - yes, it may’ve been because your best friend was a well-known streamer, but you could care less! You were proud to be by Tommy’s side as he accomplished his biggest dreams, and you couldn’t be happier for him.

“Yes, Tommy is with me, chat - I know! Look at this absolute teddy bear! He’s like a child with a death grip on their mother’s arm!” You snickered, as the chat agreed adding a few ‘haha’s’ and laughing emojis as a few questions came in, leaving you to answer a few while adding a few jabs at Tommy for clinging to you when he always mentions how ‘big man’ and ‘macho’ he is. It was the perfect opportunity!

“I’ve known Tommy for awhile - we knew each other from when we were younger and sort of became inseparable,” you giggled, remembering how Tommy used to ask you for help to reach his juice cup or the cookie jar, but now you’re always asking for help from your tree-height best friend. “Plus, he’s the one that pushed me to get into editing and streaming - so we all have him to thank for pushing me out of my comfort zone.” You smiled as an annoyed groan came from beside you, making you freeze as chat began to spam ‘HE’S WAKING UP’ and ‘RUN Y/N RUN!!!’

Tommy moved to sit up carefully, his yawn even sounding scratchy as he coughed some, mindful to keep it away from you. He blinked, his eyes switching between your slightly widened eyes and the TikTok live stream, as well as chat still spamming for you to quickly book it while you still could.

“Y/n…” Tommy hummed with his hoarse voice, the scratch in it as you slowly began to sit up, moving to try and give yourself at least a small chance to run. “Why’re you live… On the TikTok community… Hm?” Each word came out a bit breathless as you could barely contain your grin, sitting up on one of your knees while your foot grazed the floor.

“Tommy, Tomathy, Tom Simons, Big Man, come on,” you giggled, moving your hands up to keep him back if he tried to grab you. “It’s nothing!”

Your persuasive argument - you really tried to get out of that one - didn’t work as he reached for you, only to be pulled off the bed as you leaned back to get away from him. A shout came from both of you as you landed on your thankfully carpeted floor - chat was spamming as you and Tommy groaned, laying in defeat beside one another as he reached over, ending your little live as you turned towards him, grinning.

“A TikTok live? Seriously?” Tommy groaned, dropping his head back against the plush carpet as you broke into a fit of giggles. “What?” He huffed as you wiped at a fake tear, gesturing towards his face as he frowned, reaching up and wiping away a thick line of drool that had clung to his chin.

Your soft laughter caused him to break out into a smile, joining in on the laughter as he rolled his eyes as you both held your sides, still laughing before you both settled into the soft flooring, your shoulders touching as you sighed, glancing outside. The sun had begun to set, leaving the room in a soft light - you knew Tommy had another vlog to do tomorrow with Jack, Tubbo and Ranboo. You turned towards him, smiling softly as Tommy glanced at you, still holding a bit of a frown.

“You’ve got a busy day tomorrow,”

“At least I’m not stuck editing,” he snickered as you punched his shoulder, making him cry out and rub at the wound.

“What the fuck!”

“I should make you edit your own vlogs, dickhead,” you groaned, moving to sit up as he followed your lead, huffing as he began to massage his temples. The reason why he came over suddenly came back to you.

“Shit, what’re you going to do about tomorrows’ vlog? You’re still sick,”

“I’m a big man, Y/n, I think I can handle a head cold-”

“Yeah, okay, not even half an hour ago you were whining and grumbling about your much your head hurt and how much you needed your best friend,”

“Aye! Don’t make me sound like a pussy!” He grumbled as you rolled your eyes, snatching your phone and flopping back onto your bed, going onto Twitter to see all of the screen records and clips your fans had gotten from your small live. Tommy sat on the floor glaring at you before standing, still glaring before attempting to climb over your comforted body.

“Tomathy!” You growled as he flopped back into his previous spot, snuggling into the comforting feel of your pillows and even your own warmth. It felt comforting for him to feel your precious, but he’s not a pussy so he’ll never admit it.

“Are you done?”

He side-eyed you, pursing his lips with a huff. Not answering as you rolled your eyes before returning to your hunt on Twitter. Tommy side-eyed you again, before scooting closer and watching a few of the clips with you. Tommy couldn’t hold back the scoff as there was a picture of him practically on top of you as you tried to speak to your chat.

“I am so sick of you,” he suddenly grunted as you glanced at him, rolling your own eyes while closing your phone and staring at the ceiling, once more that evening.

“I know you’re not, you can’t lie to your best friend, TommyInnit,” you scoffed as he sighed, closing his eyes as you felt your own body slowly become warm and comfy on your comforter, sighing as you and Tommy both began to drift asleep.

“You’re right.. But, I don’t see Tubbo here,” he mocked, his eyes still closed as you snapped open your eyes, frowning. You moved around some before snatching one of your smaller pillows and smacking it against his chest, causing him to yell out again.

“Now, I’M sick of you,” you huffed, settling in and closing your eyes as Tommy scoffed, as you two settled in, too tired for any more bickering and allowing you both to find comfort in your best friends arms once again - this time no lives, no chats, and no more annoying sniffles.

~~~~

a/n; I hope you enjoyed this anon! I definitely loved writing this, and I hope to see more requests in the future!

Until tomorrow, I hope you all have a beautiful day! ~ J

#dream smp x reader #platonic!tommyinnit x reader #tommyinit dsmp #platonic #best friends #dsmp x reader #mcyt #mcyt x reader #cc!tommy #*will change if need be*

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the-passenger-if · 3 years

Note

one of my favorite angst tropes is someone breaking up with their partner in order to keep them safe! how would the ros handle this if newman did this to them? (also, would any of the ro’s break up with newman to keep them safe?)

combining it with

How would the ROs react to Newman who just texts them out of nowhere and the message just say "I love you always bye sorry" as if Newman was in a hurry and no matter how hard they try to contact them, no one picks up.

also

some angST!! How would the ROs react to Newman breaking up with them after being together for a looooong time?

and

ROs reaction to Newman wanting to break up with them after a while of being together?

Jonny and Horizon would break up with Newman to keep them safe. Fiama knows she can keep both of them safe, and Roach will do their best but if they have to die then they will die together xD

Combining Newman just up and disappears one day with Newman breaks up with RO after being together for a long time.

Long angsty scenarios under the cut.

“Mommy… kisses me… on the… cheek. Cheek. Cheek, Bruno. Listen, cheeeek. That’s chek.”

Bruno mutters the word ‘cheek’ under his breath a few times before adding another ‘e’ just on top of the first one.

“No,” Fiama tells him. “Erase the word and rewrite it. Well this time.”

Her son scowls but he does as he’s told. His round eyes slip away from the exercise book to the front door and stay there.

“Bruno,” she calls him. “Bruno.” He looks at her, and she knows. She just knows what he’s thinking about. Who he’s thinking about. “Cheek.” She points at the book.

He writes down the word very slowly and forcefully on the page. She still can read the wrong word under it, but she decides to let it go.

“The chick eats corn,” Fiama continues, “The… chick… Chick, Bruno.”

He bites his lower lip, staring at her.

“Remember the chicks? Grandpa took you to see them…”

Bruno mutters ‘chick’ under his breath a couple of times, then his eyes go to the front door again.

“Bruno,” and she doesn’t want to lose her patience like this, but she’s tired and she wants to… she doesn’t know what she wants to do yet, but doing homework in the living room with a very distracted Bruno isn’t it.

Her boy scowls at her, pencil shaking in a tiny angry fist. He opens his mouth to retort when someone knocks on the door. His eyes widen, the scowl vanishes. He jumps off the chair, homework and pencil and Fiama completely forgotten.

“Bruno!” she calls out, but he’s already dashing to the door and yanking it open.

“Oh! Hi there, rabbit,” Fiama’s mother says.

“No!” Bruno replies trying to close the door again.

That’s when Fiama stands up and grabs him by the arm. “Don’t you shut the door in your grandma’s face!”

“Don’t you grab him like that!” her mother yells at her, and she lets go of Bruno as if he was a hot iron.

“Why are you here?” Bruno screams at Fiama’s mother. “I wanted it to be them!”

“Bruno!” Fiama scolds.

“No!” her boy yells at her. “This is your fault! You did this!” Then he’s running off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Fiama isn’t the type to care about metaphors, but right now she completely understands what people mean when they say 'it felt like a bucket of cold water'.

The one that breaks the silence is her mother. “Well, didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Not now, mom.” Fiama grits out.

“Let us hope it doesn’t affect Bruno too much…”

“I said not now.” The glare she sends her mother’s way is enough for the woman to shake her head and turn away.

Fiama closes the door very carefully, and then rests her back against it, scowl set on the table where Bruno’s homework was left unfinished. A thought like a flash; the table toppling over, books and pencils, and the ceramic fruit basket flying in the air. It passes quickly. Fiama is taking slow deep breaths. She still remembers what happened the last time she let her emotions get the best of her. That familiar wave of shame and guilt washes over her as she remembers Bruno’s stunned silence when he found her sobbing in her room, sat in the midst of broken pieces of whatever she had lying about in there.

A single tear rolls down her cheek, one Fiama swiftly washes away. She promises herself this is the last she’ll ever waste on them.

---

There's one lonely cloud floating in the blue sky and Jonny's eyes have been following its snail-like march for the last ten minutes or so. His neck is starting to feel stiff but he doesn't shift his position; watching the lazy parade happening outside of his window has kept his mind in silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

It isn’t surprising that it doesn’t last. Somebody is knocking on his bedroom door and Jonny really doesn't have the energy for this. He closes his eyes shut, focuses on the inverted shadow cloud burned in his tired retina. The door clicks open and he keeps still on his bed, chest barely moving. It's childish, he knows this, but it's the only thing that seems to keep Joaquin and Lucia from asking how he's doing or commenting about his love life, or even worse, trying to give him advice.

The visitor lingers there where they stand for another moment, before closing the door again. Jonny thinks he’s been left alone to go back to what apparently has become his favorite hobby as of late, when he hears approaching footsteps.

“I know you’re awake.”

“Don’t tell me they called you,” he says in a drawl, opening his eyes and fixing them on the man sitting on the bed across from his. Quino has the same green eyes, straight nose, and wavy brown hair Jonny has, however, his twin chooses to wear it shorter and well out of his face. He is, after all, the good-looking one.

“They didn’t,” Quino assures him with a conciliatory smile. Jonny’s skepticism must be written all over his face because his brother crosses his heart and shrugs.

“Why are you here?” Jonny knows why, but he also knows Quino too well and his twin has never been the type to start awkward conversations unless Jonny opens that door for him first.

“Do I need a reason? Can’t I—?”

“They broke up with me,” Jonny cuts him off, “I’m feeling like shit, I just want to sleep until I forget I ever met them, but every time people ask about it I think about them, and every time they tell me ‘it will pass’, and that I’ll ‘find someone new’ I just want to jump in front of a car.” Quino doesn’t say anything, he just nods while picking at his nails. Jonny rolls on his back, stares at the ceiling. “I know I’m way too old to be acting like this, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“You aren’t too old to feel like shit, Jonny. You loved them, and they left you. It’s completely understandable.”

He presses his lips together. He did love them. He does love them still. Stupid, so stupid.

“If you want to cry—“

“Screw off.”

“Not in front of me, heaven forbid,” Quino says with mock horror, “but you should cry sometimes. Crying is good for you, you know?”

Maybe it is, Jonny guesses, but he might have cried himself dry the night Newman broke up with him over the phone. Over the fucking phone, of fucking course. He rubs at his dry eyes. He doesn’t want to think about that. “Yeah,” he mutters.

The silence stretches until Quino clears his throat. “So, do you want to know why I’m here or not?”

Jonny turns his head and then frowns at the tickets in his brother’s hand. He blinks twice, recognizing the iconic font printed on them at once. He sits up an instant later. “You’re shitting me.”

“No, I’m inviting you to see Metallica in Columbia.”

“Their last two albums suck,” Jonny says, yet he still takes the ticket from Quino’s hand.

“What doesn’t?” his twin asks with a laugh, and this time Jonny can feel himself smile.

---

One of the humans is awake. Shit. Roach thought they had at least another hour or two, now they’ll have to deal with them and their overfamiliarity and their hands and their faces.

The stub between their lips trembles and they realize it has gone out. They take it, frown at it and then flick it off. It flies in an arc, landing among its dozen of dead brothers. Roach knows at least ten of those are theirs—not that the parking lot of this dingy motel could look any worse by having more dead cigs lying about.

They look for their smokes in the denim jacket they are wearing—a gift from a trucker with a tendency to comment on people’s appearances and leave his jacket behind when going to the restroom—and almost drop the entire pack when the door at their left opens.

“Those things will kill you,” says the woman coming out of their shared motel room.

“Life is killing me,” Roach replies without missing a beat, but they don’t smile; she won’t see their face anyway, not when the sun has yet to come out, and the only lightbulb over their head suddenly burned out.

“Do you have another one?”

She comes to sit next to them on the bench and Roach doesn’t need light to see the deep crow's feet at the corner of her eyes and the dark circles under them. Their conquests always look immensely better under synthetic lighting, once outside, once they’ve used one another, it’s like the spell breaks.

Roach holds two cigs between their lips and lights them with practiced ease. They offer one to their broken Juliette. It’s the least they can do; they do remember biting her hard at some point in the middle of their sexcapade… or maybe they bit one of the others, they aren’t sure anymore.

She accepts it with a thanks and takes a long drag. She sighs out the smoke, peers at Roach as if she could somehow pierce through the shadows and take a good look at them. “You are young, darling,” she croaks out. “Way too young to be doing this shit.”

“Smoking?” Roach asks innocently. Words read out from a script, tone sweet, face immobile. The face of a ghost really, one that haunts and judges them.

The woman shakes her head and then points with her thumb at the room behind them. “I bet you aren’t even thirty yet.” She tilts her head at them, eyes narrowing and still trying to see. “Whatever happened to you… you can opt out. It isn’t easy, but you can move on, you can leave your old self behind. It’s never too late…” A coughing fit interrupts her fortune cookie monologue, and Roach is super ready to skedaddle now.

They stand up, rub their hands together. “Speaking of,” they exclaim with fake enthusiasm, “I should hit the road now. It was a pleasure, really,” they add just as if they were wrapping a 5-cents bow around used pair of socks. Here, happy birthday.

Roach jogs off before she can add anything else.

“Hag,” they mutter around their cigarette. They stop as they catch a glimpse of their reflection in the window of a stripped car. The face scowling at them is silently judging them for stealing it and then using it to lure in humans. “It’s poetic, ok?” Roach explains with a tense grin. “You fucked me over so this is my way to return the favor, pet.” The reflection doesn’t reply, but Roach doesn’t care. They don’t care. They never cared, actually. Who said they ever did?

---

Slow, deep breaths. Inhale, one… two… three… four. Exhale, one… two… three… four… five… six…

Horizon opens their eyes. They are crouched in front of the ceremonial pitcher. Looking down at their reflection in the water makes something like a thumb-size metal ball roll in the back of their skull. They wince in pain and lose whatever little balance they had before. Horizon doesn’t yelp when they fall back on their ass; the sudden waves of nausea coming up like lava inside a volcano could turn a bad situation into a nightmarish one at the flip of a hat.

“Ah,” they whine in a whisper, “if there truly is anything out there, up there, or around, please make it stop.” They run a hand down their face, suppress a fiery belch.

They blindly look for the pitcher and submerge their other hand in the cold water. Dominus Dove and Domina Basil would blanch in horror and anger, but right now, this is the best Horizon has felt since Velour dragged them out of bed, wrapped their robes around them, and pushed them into their office.

Running wet, cold fingers through their messy hair is the best feeling in the world, so they continue this little ritual for a while… and another while… and a little longer…

The door opens just a crack and Horizon’s gaze jumps to Velour’s so fast that the metal ball comes back with a vengeance. An arrow piercing their brain back to front.

“Ahh!”

“This isn’t happening,” Velour hisses as they slink into the room and close the door behind them. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

“This isn’t happening,” Horizon mutters trying to smile through the pain. They open their eyes to find a very frowny, very serious Velour staring down at them. The smile slips off their face like a slug going down the drain. “I’m so sorry, Velour.”

“As you should,” they reply coldly, and Horizon wants to cry because there’s so much more to their tone than just scorn; they are truly disappointed and they have all the right to be.

“I’m a mess,” the words sound strained to Horizon’s ears, and they can feel new tears threatening to spill down their face again.

Velour’s jaw tightens before they crouch down shaking their head. “You are drunk,” they whisper in a mellow way. “And we can’t let anyone know that.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them you are indisposed. Wait here, and please, stop playing with the sacred water, Domini.”

Horizon can feel themself blushing in embarrassment, but they nod nonetheless and almost don’t wince when the metal ball ricochets around their skull.

Velour steps out of the room, their voice booming in the cabin, “Domini Horizon has fallen ill with a fever. Today’s prayers will be under my supervision.”

“Are they ok?” somebody asks.

“Yes, but they are very tired and would appreciate being left alone in their cabin. Any concerns or questions you have can be brought to me.”

Efficiently, they march into the office again. “Lean on me, Domini,” they instruct and Horizon does as they say. A few moments later, The Domini is back on their feet and being herded out of the office and through the cabin. They keep their head down, letting their hair cover their face.

“Poor Domini,” another person loud-whispers, “they are drenched in sweat.”

Next to them, Velour tenses up, but they don’t let their discomfort show in any other way.

Once in Horizon’s cabin, their assistant sits them on the bed and fetches them a glass of water.

“They aren’t worth any of this, Domini,” Velour says, and Horizon keeps still, lips barely touching the water. They look up at their assistant but say nothing. “That’s all I wanted to say, and that’s all I’ll say on the subject.��

Horizon puts down the glass on their lap, both hands holding it still. They lower their gaze before softly replying, “Noted.”

Velour makes to leave. They open the door before saying over their shoulder, “And stop drinking. If I come back to find you drunk again, I swear I’m leaving. For real this time.”

Horizon nods slowly, and doesn’t look up until Velour closes the door behind them. Once they are out, the Domini puts the glass down, next to the bed, carefully lies down, and lets the ugly sobs come gushing out of them like muddy water from a broken levee.

#ask #tp fiama #tp jonny #tp roach #tp horizon #is this dramatic enough #hope it isn't too messy n_n'

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miyagihawk · 4 years

Text

why’d you only call me when you’re high? pt. 2 | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

part one

here’s part 2 by popular demand! based off the arctic monkeys song and amazing request by @deadbeatharlz <3 thank you guys for the support on part 1 im so happy you liked it :)

warnings: self harming behavior, LOTS of swearing, alcohol and drug abuse, sooo so angstyyyy buckle up

summary: it’s been 3 months since your last night with hawk, and you haven’t been yourself.

word count: 3,062

The past 3 months have been rough. Maybe the worst you’ve ever been. You fell into the deep hole that you dug yourself. The hole of loving Hawk Moskowitz.

You never thought you’d be one of those people who let unrequited love devastate their whole being. In fact you always thought the whole heartbreak thing was pathetic and melodramatic. Until it happened to you.

You hate yourself for letting him have this effect on you. But there’s a pestering voice in the back of your mind that reminds you: it’s all your fault. He didn’t ask you to love him. It’s just easier to blame him for your downfall.

Parties, drugs, alcohol. Sex with people you don’t even know. High on the same drug that compelled him to call you in the night.

You’ve become so desperate to forget him that you ruined yourself. It hurts your pride to be the whiny heartbroken girl who let a stupid boy’s rejection shatter her self worth. But the hole is too deep and there’s no hope trying to grasp onto the dirt walls to get out.

The worst part of it is that he sees it all. At school, (if you even go) he looks at you like the scum of the earth as he passes by with his little karate gang. When you end up at the same party, he’ll have a disgusted expression on his face and leave as if he can’t bare to look at you.

Tonight is one of those nights, and you watch him from across the backyard as he goofs around with his friends. He hasn’t noticed you yet, hence why he’s even still here and not on his way out the door to get away from you.

“If you stare at him any longer, I think he’ll shoot up into flames,” your best friend Robby hands you a cup, and you don’t hesitate before downing its unknown contents. The burn in your throat makes you hum with content.

“That’s the plan,” you take your eyes of off Hawk to look at Robby. You gesture to his own cup in his hand, “Are you gonna drink that?”

“Easy there, Y/N. We got here 5 minutes ago,” he warns, but holds out the drink towards you anyway. Robby’s always been worried about you and your habits, but he knows how you can be when you’re told no.

You swallow down the drink in a few seconds, ignoring his remark. “5 minutes? I can beat my record!” you cheer sarcastically, and start walking to the kitchen in search of a keg. Robby follows closely behind you, a wary look on his face.

The fuzzy feeling starts to take over your body as you throw back drink after drink. It’s the buzz you crave every second of every day because it just makes you feel so good. Everything is happier and your cares feel so far away. Hawk feels so far away.

You sit on the couch next to Robby in your dazed trance, drunkenly rambling to him about random things. He glares at anyone who comes near you and looks like they would take advantage of you in your state.

Robby really hates you like this, but he can’t help but feel protective over you. He’s not even a fan of parties; he really only goes to keep an eye on you. You’re grateful even though you act like you hate it when he babysits you.

“Heyyy pretty Y/N! Want some?” Yasmine approaches where you sit, a joint held between her fingers. Her eyes are drooped and she sways as she stands.

You reach out to take the blunt, but you feel Robby push your arm down. “You’re already drunk. That’s enough,” he says sternly, making you roll your eyes.

“I can do what I want, Dad,” you taunt, and take the joint from Yasmine. Smoke fills up your lungs, immediately giving you pleasure. Robby just shakes his head in disapproval as the air around him becomes hazy.

“I’m going to the bathroom. Stay here,” he orders, getting up from the couch.

You nod, but of course, you don’t listen. The sound of splashing from outside sets off a lightbulb above your head and you feel like you’re floating while you walk to the backyard.

Right as you step out of the house, you make eye contact with none other than Hawk. He gives you a distasteful look like always, before turning back to his group. Asshole.

You just scoff and stumble towards the pool, where a couple is making out and a few people are drunkenly playing with the water like little kids.

Reaching the edge of the pool’s rim, you let yourself fall in with a splash. You feel the pressure in your ears start to build as you sink to the bottom. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re cross faded, but being underwater feels like a world of bliss.

The loud music of the party is muted, creating a sense of serenity. The legs of the other people in the pool make you laugh to yourself, sending bubbles from your mouth to the surface. It’s glittery and pretty and you want to stay forever.

You don’t know how long you’re under there for, but you don’t notice your lungs running out of air. It just feels good to be alone for a second. Next thing you know, you feel your eyes start to droop closed; a strange peace overcoming your body.

A loud thrashing noise in the water makes you wake up with a gasp. You swallow too much water as you feel someone grab hold of your arm. It’s all a blur and you’re being pulled up to the surface, taking you away from the tranquil world you were just in.

The music is pounds against your ears again and the air is cold on your skin. You feel your body being laid down on the concrete of the poolside, but everything feels numb. You just feel sleepy and you want to close your eyes again.

“Y/N, hey, wake up. Wake up,” a voice makes your eyes shoot back open. Someone is looking down at you, with a hand shaking your shoulder. Your vision is somewhat blurry, but the mohawk gives it away. It’s him.

You suddenly become aware of the large amount of water in your lungs and you turn over to your side to cough it up. After you get it all out, you notice the people at the party looking at you with eyes of pity mixed with judgement.

“What the fuck were you doing? You could’ve died, are you fucking stupid?” Hawk curses, but even in your inebriated state you can hear a hint of worry in his voice.

You sit up to face him. He looks angry; his clothes and hair are as wet as yours.

Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen in your brain, or maybe it’s the marijuana and alcohol, but you just feel the urge to laugh. So you do. Like a complete maniac. The way he probably just saved your life like he cares is sickly comedic to you.

His face twists in confusion as you break out into a fit of giggles. “Are you serious? You’re fucking insane, Y/N,” he gets up, shaking his head at you. He gives a glare to the people staring, and they look away in fear.

You think he’s going to leave like usual, but he surprises you by grabbing your arm to pull you up. People whisper amongst themselves as he drags you through the backyard, going through a gate that leads to front of the house. You trip over your own feet, still feeling dizzy from almost drowning, but he just pulls you along.

“What are you doing?” you ask, tugging on your arm to try and release it from the tight grip he has on you. You’re both dripping chlorinated water, leaving a track of drops on the concrete below.

“You’re going home Y/N,” he says sternly. You two arrive at his car and he opens the passenger door. “Get in.”

“Hey!” a voice yells from the house and you both turn to see Robby rushing towards the car. He looks pissed, and now you remember him telling you to stay put. Shit.

“Robby I-”

“Don’t get in there with him Y/N,” he says, sending a death stare to the boy next to you.

“I’m taking her home, Keene, so back the fuck off. Get in Y/N,” Hawk snaps, clenching his fists.

You keep quiet, not wanting to add to the fire already starting. They loathe each other; if not because of the karate rivalry, then because of you. To Robby, Hawk broke your heart and made you spiral. To Hawk, Robby is the piece of shit who he thinks is your boyfriend, and he won’t admit it but he’s jealous.

“You’re not driving her, asshole. You’re probably as drunk as her,” Robby reaches to take your arm, but Hawk pulls you back.

“You don’t know shit about me, Keene. I’ve been sober for three months, so yeah, I will drive her,” Hawk picks you up like you’re a doll, placing you in the passenger seat and closing the door. You don’t resist, you just feel tired and your head starts to pound as if the mix of drugs in your system are punishing you. The window’s down, so you can still hear the two boys loud and clear.

I’ve been sober for three months, his voice echoes in your head.

“Oh so now you care so much about her? It’s your fault she’s like this!” Robby raises his voice even more, starting to move towards Hawk threateningly. You begin to feel scared that a physical fight might actually break out, but you don’t know what to do.

“I’m not the one who almost let her die a few minutes ago, am I? Just fuck off, we’re leaving,” Hawk dismisses him, walking around the car to the driver’s seat. You’re surprised by his self control to not throw a punch, especially with his reputation.

“Robby, it’s okay. I just want to go home. I’ll call you, alright?” you reach your hand out of the window in reassurance and he takes hold of it. Hawk clenches his jaw as he turns on the engine.

“Promise you’ll be careful? I’m sorry I left you,” Robby furrows his eyebrows in worry. When he came out of the bathroom, someone filled him in on what happened to you and he almost had a heart attack.

“Promise. And it’s my fault,” you hook your pinky with his, before the car pulls out of the curb and separates you from your best friend. He watches you guys drive away, an anxious expression etched on his face.

The whole situation has sobered you up pretty well, and now you’re left with a throbbing headache, wet clothes, and awkward tension. You hate it. Being sober. You miss the foggy feeling that prevents you from thinking too hard about things. But now you’re inches away from the boy who broke your heart, all by choice.

You don’t know why you agreed to go with him, but did you even have a choice? You’re confused by his actions. He acts like he hates you but he jumps in a pool for you. He yelled at you but he’s driving you home. It all makes you overthink and it causes your head to ache even more.

You hold your head in your hands to try and ease the pain as Hawk drives quietly.

“You good?” he breaks the silence. His voice is softer compared to how he talked to Robby minutes ago.

“Head hurts,” you mumble.

“What were you doing back there? If I didn’t get you out, you’d probably be in the hospital right now,” he says. You peek at him through your hands and his eyes are on the road.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “It was just peaceful. I didn’t really even think about breathing.”

He scoffs. “Well that’s just fucking stupid. You’re lucky I noticed you were under for so long.”

“Well thanks,” you reply quietly, feeling like a little kid being scolded.

There’s a couple beats of silence before he speaks, “What happened to you?”

The question makes you sit up and look over at him. “What are you talking about?”

“The old Y/N wouldn’t even touch a drink. You’re different,” Hawk taps his finger on the wheel in thought. His icy blue eyes quickly glance at your confused look before returning to the road.

“You happened, Hawk.” You pinch your temples in frustration. Anger starts to bubble up in your stomach at his criticism. At the mention of “old you”.

“I didn’t do this to you,” he shakes his head, as if trying to convince himself of his own words.

“You did,” you raise your voice, making him flinch. “You know it.”

“What, because I stopped sleeping with you? I didn’t make you fall in love with me, Y/N. You did that to yourself,” he spits, sending a knife to your heart and making you see red.

“You knew I loved you way before I said it. But you still stringed me along, didn’t you? You knew I would pick up everytime you called. You knew that I would let you into my bed because I was the girl who loved you no matter how fucking shitty you were!” you fire back, vomiting out words that you’ve wanted to say for months. The alcohol in your system makes you bolder than usual, but you’re grateful for it.

He’s at a loss for words at your outburst so you continue, “I didn’t ask for this Hawk. Loving you. I’m sorry that I’m such a burden and that you hate me so much that you can’t stand being in the same room as me. But please just answer me this and I’ll leave you alone forever. I’ll leave when we show up at the same party and I’ll even hide in the halls so you don’t have to see my face.”

You pause, choking on your words. You didn’t even realize that the car is already parked in front of your house and your clothes are halfway dry.

“Why don’t you love me?” your voice cracks as you spit out the question that has caused you to throw yourself away. The question with an answer that could dissipate your self worth in a mere moment.

Hawk finally looks into your glassy eyes with shock. He could’ve never anticipated what you asked him and his mouth runs dry.

“I told you, I- I don’t deserve someone like you loving me,” he swallows, but you shake your head.

“That’s not what I asked.”

He blinks slowly, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse, to avoid telling you the truth. You can see the inner conflict on his face, the panicked speed of his running thoughts.

“You should go home, Y/N,” he deflects, turning away from you. Putting on his mask to keep you from reading him like a book.

“I’m not going until you tell me,” you demand.

“Just get out of the car, fuck!” Hawk yells, slamming his hands down on the steering wheel. It makes you jump a little, but you’re too angry to fear the flames in his eyes.

“Why can’t you just tell me!” you fire back. “You came to me almost every night, so why do I feel something that you don’t? Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?”

“What do you want me to fucking say Y/N! That I do love you? Fucking fine. I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear? Just get out.”

I love you.

The same words you said that made him leave.

“You don’t even mean that,” you blink back your tears.

His voice is softer now, more gentle. “If I didn’t mean it then I wouldn’t have said it.”

“You said you needed me and then you left me,” your voice shakes and you hate how pathetic you sound.

“I-I didn’t leave you,” he stammers before taking a deep breath. “I left because you wanted something more than I could give you. I would’ve felt like a selfish asshole if we became more than just sex, Y/N. You deserve someone like Keene and yeah he’s a pussy but he’s good. Better than me.”

It feels like every piece in the puzzle is being put together. Everything makes sense. He does love you, but he was just afraid. He can’t be near you because it hurts too much to see someone he can’t have. Somehow, you can’t find the anger you’ve held against him for these past months; you just understand him now.

“I’m sorry, alright? For everything. For treating your feelings like shit. All of it.”

You swallow, thinking about his words. It all feels too much and the truth is now looking you in the eye, demanding an answer. You love him, but he dropped your heart on the floor for you to pick up every shard. Is one sorry going to magically fix everything?

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit, and he nods in understanding.

“You don’t have to say anything. Let’s just... move on. And you get better... I hate seeing you like this,” Hawk scans your red eyes and dilated pupils. “We’ll get to a better place and you and me, we’ll be good.”

It’s bittersweet, but he’s right. Being together now just because he loves you back would be a huge jump that would only end in broken hearts and toxic cycles. It would be foolish. As much as you want him, the only person who can fix you is yourself.

So it’s a meet up at the top of the mountain, when you’ve both made the journey from opposite sides.

“A better place,” you reiterate, before placing a light kiss to his cheek and leaving the car with a new sense of closure.

a/n: that was longer than i planned and a freaking roller coaster!!!!!!! im not sure if there should be a part 3? lmk what you think maybe it’ll just be short. but hehe i added robby into the mix he was so cute. ty for reading!

taglist for people who wanted part 2 :) ty friends for the support <3 @littlered6307 @deadbeatharlz @spiderman-berries @axastasiasstuff @r0-xie @estupidteen @hawkwhore @idkwhatishouldput4

#eli moskowitz #hawk cobra kai #cobra kai #cobra kai imagine #cobra kai x reader #eli moskowitz imagine #eli moskowitz x reader #hawk imagine #hawk x reader #cobrakai #hawk moskowitz

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